Stuck in the Middle...

My first flight since attaining Platinum status on American Airlines was not a pleasant one. Apparently, being upper class isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I actually was flying British Airways, so I shouldn’t really complain, but I figured since they are partners, I could at least finagle my way out of a middle seat. I couldn't.

I also thought there was some kind of rule against congregating in the aisles or near the restrooms, but British Airways for some reason seems to encourage socializing. For almost the entire trip, there was basically a happy hour going on in the back, just a few rows behind me. It was pretty rowdy. Not that I really could get comfortable enough to sleep anyway, but it seemed awfully disrespectful and inconsiderate to the other passengers.

The good news is that British Airways does offer a terrific selection of entertainment on the individual TV’s. On this flight, I went with Get Him to the Greek and Toy Story 3.

GET HIM TO THE GREEK: Russell Brand picks up where he left off as Aldous Snow in Forgetting Sarah Marshall. There are some funny scenes here and there, but it’s not the most balanced picture. As in way too many comedies these days, it tails off severely in the second half of the movie. I was surprised that they could show this one on a an airplane as it contained a healthy amount of nudity and several sex scenes of comical, but still kind of graphic, nature. On this note, I don’t mind this kind of humor, but in movies like this, I feel like it comes across as very lazy writing and a cheap ploy for laughs. The Jeffrey, however, was kind of brilliant.

TOY STORY 3: I’ve wanted to see this one for a while and for some reason, Jenn wasn’t overly interested. I think maybe she thinks she’s too cool for cartoons. The movie was terrific and one of the best movies I’ve seen in the past year. The writing, as with the previous two Toy Story movies, is incredibly sharp and clever. The very well crafted story maintains a fine balance between humor, action, suspense, and emotion. No, I didn’t cry, but there definitely are some touching scenes that really tug at the heartstrings. It was great. I recommend it to anyone who ever had a toy or toys they loved as a child. I also recommend it for anyone who has trouble giving anything away or throwing anything out.

I haven’t finished it yet, but I also put quite a dent in the current book I’m reading, “The Omnivore’s Dilemma” by Michael Pollen. To put it simply, it’s about where what we eat comes from. I’ll give my full thoughts on the book at a later time, but I’m really enjoying it. None of it is earth shattering stuff, but it’s still very interesting and is good to be reminded that we should think very hard about the decisions we make regarding what we eat. It was kind of ironic to put the book down and then dine on airplane food.

I’m back in Austin this week for some work stuff. It continues to give me chills every time I fly back the United States and the customs agent says “Welcome home” after stamping my passport. It doesn’t matter how long I live in Europe. This is still home.

Ain't Dat a Shame

The Saints lost to the Seahawks a week ago today. It’s not that it’s taken me a week to collect my thoughts. I just haven’t had the time to write. I’m finishing up the current project I’m on at work, we started Slovak lessons again, and I had to get my act together for a work trip to Austin.

If last year had never happened, this loss to a 7-9 Seahawks team would have stung so much more than it did. It would have been another very painful moment for Saints fans who have endured so many over the years. But, last year did happen. They won the Super Bowl and they and Saints fans will always have that, even if they do go another 40 years without a title. Having said all that, I still would have preferred that they didn’t lose to the team many were calling the worst playoff team ever. That Marshawn Lynch run will haunt my dreams for a long time.

Personally, I, and I would guess many Saints fans, knew this year’s team wasn’t realistically going to win the title. It was improbable, though with Breesus behind center, certainly not impossible. They had too many injuries and a few very glaring flaws, particularly on special teams and defense. I knew all this because I had the good fortune to watch every game for myself either live or recorded on our Slingbox, which I do not think gets enough credit for being the amazing product that it is.

The Saints will be back again next year and hopefully will beef up the defense through the draft and free agency, especially up front on the D-line and the linebacking corps. I hope they figure out a way to restructure Reggie Bush’s contract to keep him and also re-sign Pierre Thomas (though I’m not sure this will happen). They also must sign Drew to a long term contract to make sure retires as a Saint. He’s the best thing to ever happen to this franchise.

Bon Appetit

The winter is not a particularly busy time on the Cote d'Azur. Many of the hotels and restaurants are closed for the season and several of the little cities are like ghost towns. We were able to see a few museums, but for the most part, this trip was not about sight seeing. We instead planned our visit around food. Jenn and I love food. We are not food snobs (though I probably can be a bit particular about some other things). Good food can be found anywhere whether it's a local dive, a farmer's market, a popular or trendy establishment, a Michelin starred restaurant, or even at a Cheesecake Factory. We just like to eat and we prefer that what we eat simply be good.

If you aren't interested in pictures or descriptions of food, this post is not for you.

DAY 1 - Dec 26
We almost didn't make our flight. We took an early morning taxi to Vienna and right before we were to exit for the airport, Jenn realized she forgot her carry-on bag. We asked the driver to turn around and we headed back to Bratislava, where Jenn ran up and grabbed her bag. Our driver then could sense our urgency and turned what is normally a 45 minute journey into a 25 minute trip back to the airport. We made it in plenty of time to check our bags and board the flight. It was amazing. I couldn't take my eyes off of the speedometer the entire ride. I was mezmerized.

We arrived to a cold (in the 40's) and overcast Nice on Sunday morning. We expected it to be kind of chilly, but the gray skies were not a good sign.

After checking in at the hotel, Le Meridien, we quickly hopped on a bus for St Paul De Vence, but not before enjoying a morning croissant (the first of many). After arriving, we walked to the Fondation Maeght, a museum set up by private funding. The museum sits a little outside of the town in the middle of a wooded area. The large surrounding courtyard contains sculptures from Miro, Giacometti, and others, a cool fountain and a Chagall mosaic. It's a beautiful setting for a museum. The museum is open and has large windows letting in lots of natural light. We loved it.
Unfortunately, when we walked outside, it was pouring down rain and for some reason neither of us was wearing a rain coat and or even brought an umbrella to France. We walked in the rain and then waited in the rain for the bus back to Nice. It was miserable. For the record, Jenn read that the Cote d'Azur has 300 days of sunshine. Needless to say, we were less than thrilled to be witnessing one of the "off" days. We stayed inside for the afternoon and took a stroll through the Matisse museum, which was cool.

Dinner was at L'Escalinada, which was outstanding. It's a small unassuming place that honestly, we wouldn't have even thought twice about if Food & Wine Magazine hadn't recommended it. We sat at one of the 10 or so tables and dined on pissaladiere (a kind of pizza with onions on top), zucchini beignets, and a few other appetizers. Jenn had what she deemed the best lasagna she had ever eaten and I had fish in provencale sauce. We finished up with lemon meringue pie and I had a kind of peanutbutter pie. Everything was delicious. It was the perfect start to the trip.
DAY 2 - Dec 27
We awoke the next morning still on a high from the previous night's meal. We spent the day in glitz and yacht filled Monte-Carlo. I was actually expecting it to be much flashier than it was, but it was nice. To me, it looked a lot like a movie set. Everything was very clean and looked too perfect. We were early for our lunch reservation, so we walked around town a bit and trough the shopping mall attached to the Hotel Metropole. There were some very high end stores as expected, but the highlight was picking up some macaroons (one vanilla, one chocolate, and one salted caramel each) to go from the Paris based Laduree. Dare I say, they rivaled Pierre Herme's (our favorite).

Our lunch at Joel Robuchon at the Hotel Metropole was very good, but it would be quite an achievement if the food was able to live up to the exorbitant prices. We tried to not let that affect our judgment, but it wasn't easy. From the lobster ravioli to the scallop filled cannoli to the quail, the presentation was beautiful. It was like artwork. This is going to sound ridiculous, but the highlight of the meal was the cart filled with various different types of unbelievable baked breads. We joked that we should have just ordered water and bread. We seriously would have been perfectly happy with that. I am still having dreams about my pesto bread.
We spent the remainder of what turned out to be our only day with slightly decent weather walking the whole town and touring the Oceanographic Museum and aquarium. We held off on hitting the casino and decided we'd come back one evening as it's only about 30 minutes from Nice.

We got off the bus on the ride back with the intention of walking down to St Jean Cap Ferrat, but realized that it was not only a 90 minute walk to get there, but also down a path that was in complete darkness. Everything in the area was closed. It was eerie. It felt like were were in a horror movie. We walked to a bus stop, took the bus to St Jean, recognized that it too was dead, and then made our way back to Nice for the evening. We learned the importance of making reservations on the Riviera as we were turned away at a couple of restaurants. We ended up just picking up socca, a chickpea pancake, from a stand (Chez Rene) and then topped that off with crepes for dessert.

DAY 3 - Dec 28
The bus ride to Grasse took a little longer than expected (over an hour). Grass is known as the perfume capital of Europe. It has something to do with fertile ground being good for growing fragrant flowers used for perfume. We first had lunch at Jacques Chibois, the restaurant at the Bastide St-Antoine, a really pretty boutique hotel on the outskirts of the city that screams French countryside. In order to find it and get there though, we needed some help, and it came in surprising fashion.

We went inside the Museum of Perfume which by the grace of God (for me) was closed for the day, but the gift shop was open. A man happened to walk in who spoke good English and not only knew the location of the hotel, but also called a taxi for us. We found out from our taxi driver that the man that called was a city official. We never figured out exactly who he is, but it really pleases me when people do nice things for one another. I've said it before and I'll say it again, the world would be such a better place if everyone was just nice and considerate to one another. It's a simple thing, but humans just can't figure it out.

The setting at the restaurant was really nice, but a little quiet and stuffy. The service was off the charts though. When places like this charge the amount they do, service should be part of the deal, and it was impressive to see how hard the staff worked to make it a memorable dining experience. The food itself was good, but as with Joel Robuchon, it's hard to feel like you're getting value for the price. The presentation of each dish was beautiful. I started with tuna and Jenn had this shrimp dish with purple potatoes. For the main course, I had the butterfish and Jenn had beef. Before dessert, they brought out an exceptional cheese course, with the superstar being this creamy one with truffles in it. We finished with the strawberry souffle for Jenn, which was outstanding, and a big upside down profiterole of which I do not know the name. They also brought us this edible wrapped present with petit fours surrounding it. It was a nice touch. It's always good when a restaurant finishes strong and that they did.
We realized that it wasn't that long of a ride in the taxi to get there, so we walked back. We visited both of the big perfumeries in town, Molinard and Fragonard. Neither was incredibly interesting or exciting, but there is of course lots of stuff for sale.

We headed back to Nice and after an afternoon nap, we ate dinner at Oliviera, which is a small (5 or 6 tables) restaurant run by a husband a wife who cook comfort food and sell homemade olive oil. The place was tiny, so the kitchen was out in the open. We could watch and smell our meal being cooked. It was nothing fancy, but everything was very good. We started with buffalo mozzarella and tomatoes, which was easily the highlight of the night. It was awesome. Jenn had lasagna, which she didn't like as much as the one she had the first night and I really enjoyed my beef cannelloni. Everything tasted so homemade. With each course, the owner came out and told us about a different olive oil as he drizzled it over our dish. I enjoyed this meal more than Jenn, but we both liked the experience. We skipped dessert as there wasn't anything too enticing on their menu. Plus, we were full. Keep in mind, throughout the trip, even if I don't mention it, we stopped at almost any chocolate shop we passed and bought something to sample.

DAY 4 - Dec 29
After a few days of riding the bus, we hopped aboard the morning train to Cannes, and in 30 minutes (maybe a little more), we were there. Our first stop was the Forville Market, where we picked up a few things for a picnic lunch. We still have a hard time understanding why almost every European city has a nice farmer's market except for Bratislava. It was a bit cold for a picnic lunch, but we still enjoyed snacking on bread, cheese, and tapenades on a bench. The setting wasn't all that nice either as we were on a busy street next to a bus stop, but we kind of had a view of the water. Our hands were numb at the end, but it was worth it.

There wasn't any sight-seeing we were especially interested in doing in Cannes, so we just walked the streets, window shopped, and hit up just about every chocolate store they had. Maybe it was the weather, but I really expected Cannes to be much nicer and prettier. There is a lot of shopping, some of which is incredibly high end (more thank likely to accomodate those docking their yachts there). There's also plenty of regular shopping, but that's really about all there is to do there. We had enough late in the afternoon and headed back to Nice.

Dinner that evening was at a place with the unfortunate name of Don Camillo Creations, but surprisingly still had very good food. I had fish again, which was fine, but not spectacular, and Jenn had the scallops, which she liked a lot. Dessert was a pretty good chocolate fondant. A chocolate fondant is always a nice way to end a day.

DAY 5 - Dec 30

We started off the day at the Cours Saleya Market in Nice, which was fantastic. We liked it better than the Cannes one from the day before. We ate croissants (as usual, regular for me and chocolate for Jenn) and then topped that off with cookies from a place called Emilie's cookies that we found. We discussed how grand life would be if every day involved a morning walk to the market to grab a croissant for breakfast and then everything else we needed to cook our dinner that evening. Maybe we need a winter cottage in France. If you're thinking that we should hold off on having a second home before we even own a house, I hear you, but I kindly ask that you to let us enjoy our fantasy for now. If your response to that is that our whole life is a fantasy, I agree with you to a point, but as someone who has spent most hours of most days for nearly 32 years worrying and stressing about things that don't need to be stressed or worried about, I think I'm entitled.

We then took the train again, this time to Antibes. Walking to town from the train station, we passed yet another port filled with yachts. I haven't mentioned it yet, but in all these towns, there are not only tons of yachts, but also tons of yacht brokers, which leads me to believe that there is quite a lot of turnover. Someone's got to be keeping the brokers in business. I'll say this.  If you have some extra cash, a couple million or so sitting around, there does not seem to be any shortage of yachts or property for sale along the riviera. It's really a sad sign of the economic times that all these people have to sell their yachts and 3rd or 4th homes.

We walked through the Picasso Museum, which I would call half a Picasso Museum. It seems in many towns in Europe, if an artist spent time there and there's a handful or so of their artwork, they get a museum with their name on it, in hopes to lure tourists. The building itself is cool. It's in an old castle that overlooks the water. The art itself wasn't bad. Besides the painting, Picasso's time in Antibes also included work on ceramics, so there was a nice collection of plates and vases as well.

After walking around town a little and once Jenn had bought a postcard and a souvenir spoon (her standard purchases for everywhere we travel), we went back to Nice. One of the problems with not renting a car, is that it wasn't so easy to go back and forth between towns, so we ended up eating most of our dinners back in Nice. This night, we walked over to the port, which ended up being a little farther than we thought it was, but not too bad, and ate a little Italian place called L'Allegro. A woman, who I assumed was one of the owners, made the pasta fresh in the middle of the restaurant to order. That was worth the price of admission. Jenn's mushroom ravioli was huge and tasty. The chef was a bit heavy handed with the salt on my shrimp pasta, but it wasn't bad. The very rich chocolate brownie thing we had for dessert was nice.

We talked through New Year's Eve plans on the long walk back to the hotel.

DAY 6 - Dec 31
I'm getting exhausted just writing this, so I congratulations if you've made it this far reading it. I'll try to keep this one simple.

We had surveyed the options for dinner along the coast and after reading through fixed menu after fixed menu that cost a small fortune, we decided we would have our own New Year's Eve picnic in our hotel room. We hit the market again in the morning and picked up breads, cheese, tapenades, and a couple of clementines. We bought cookies from Emilie's again (double chocolate was my favorite), some chocolate from a couple different shops, Patisserie Lac and Cornet Philippe, and a bottle of champagne (Fleury, recommended by them) from La Part des Anges, which was a great shop recommended by Timeout. We were excited.

We quickly walked through the small, but nice Chagall Museum.

For the remainder of the afternoon, we walked around Eze and took in the beautiful views from the Jardin Exotique. We stayed up in Eze Village and didn't make it down to the water as we assumed it would all be closed as we saw with most of the small towns on the coast. We'll have to make a return trip to the Cote d'Azur when it's warm to hit up some of areas we missed.

Our New Year's Eve picnic was just as good as we thought it would be. The hotel didn't even charge us for the bucket of ice for the champagne or the glasses. Merci beaucoup, Le Meridien.

We showered and as Barney would say on How I Met Your Mother, we suited up. Actually, I suited up, but Jenn got dressed up too. We took the train to Monte Carlo to bring in the new year with the pretty people. Actually, Monte Carlo is really filled with a lot of people hoping to rub elbows with the pretty people, but not sure if anyone there is that pretty. The main square in front of the casino was packed with people, but they were kind of just standing there and not doing anything. I guess it was like Times Square in that way, except with no Ryan Seacrest.

We went into the casino and contributed some money to the economy of Monaco. The building itself is ornate and quite pretty, but the atmosphere was kind of lame. It was extremely quiet and very business-like. I got the feeling it wasn't a lot of regulars and no one really knew how to act in there. Everyone, including us, seemed to want it to be high class and feel like we were in a James Bond film, but it wasn't to be. After taking in the fireworks at the port with the masses, we took one more peek into the casino, were not inspired to stay, and headed for the bus stop for the night bus back to Nice. The bus was 45 minutes late. We were frustrated, but at the same time, we were thrilled that it showed up at all and that we wouldn't be stuck for the evening on the streets of Monte-Carlo. It wasn't all ideal, but we had a fun evening. New Year's Eve never lives up to expectations, so we should all understand that by now.

DAY 7 - Jan 1
Bon jour, 2011.

We had a 3 and a half hour delicious lunch at La Petite Maison in Nice that could have been 2 and a half hours if not for shitty service. It's a small restaurant that has been very popular with locals that is becoming more and more popular with tourists. The food is clean, simple, and fantastic. We did the 10 course small plate menu which included artichoke salad, shrimp salad, buratta and tomatoes, smoked salmon, stuffed vegetables, fried calamari, zucchini flowers, scrambled egg with truffles, langoustine, and truffle mac 'n cheese. We liked every single thing we were served. Jenn chose the buratta and the shrimp as her favorites, and I would go with the truffle mac 'n cheese. We couldn't leave France without one more dessert, so even though we were full, we had white chocolate mousse with raspberries.
Needing to walk off the meal, we walked up to the old Chateau up on the hill overlooking the city. The views were great
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And as our vacation then came to an end, so does this very long blog post. Yes, it would have been nice if it would have been sunnier, warmer, and if more things were open, but we still really had a wonderful trip. We woke up the next day back to snow, Slovak food, and reality. Unfortunately, vacations (as with most good things) must eventually come to an end, though we're trying like hell to fight it.

For a few more pictures, click here

Movie Reviews

We had the opportunity during our ski trip to watch a bunch of movies in the evenings. We rented them on iTunes and watched them on the computer. I usually give my movie reviews only when I travel on planes, but since I have nothing better to do, here you go.

Scott Pilgrim vs. the World
Very clever and entertaining movie. It's based on a graphic novel and does a good job translating that visually. The movie follows Scott (Michael Cera) as he battles the seven exes of the girl of his dreams. It's very creative and funny. We liked it.

Easy A
We wanted something mindless and fluffy, so we went with Easy A. It was both mindless and fluffy, so exactly what we expected. We laughed a good amount. Nothing in the movie was necessarily new or different than any other high school comedy, though this was a bit smarter and had less nudity and vulgarity, which is either a plus or a minus (depending on how you look at it). It was supposed to loosely relate to the Scarlet Letter, and we know this because the main character, Emma Stone, wears an A on her clothing for most of the movie. I have never read the Scarlet Letter because my high school English teach chose the Blithedale Romance instead for some reason, but believe it or not, I was still able to follow the storyline. The writing was sharp for the first half of the movie but got pretty lazy in the second half. It's definitely not one you need to rush to see, but if you're bored or it's playing on TV one afternoon, you'll probably be entertained.

Wall Street 2
I guess this answers the question, if Oliver Stone took a dump and planted a sign in it stating it was created by Oliver Stone, people would in fact come and sniff it. I'm not sure why anyone felt that a sequel was necessary. Why can't Hollywood leave well enough alone? It should have been good. There isn't much storyline, but what is there is so dull and unoriginal. It basically takes bits and pieces of news stories from the actual economic meltdown and tries to mold it into a fictional tale, but it doesn't work at all. I think Oliver Stone was trying to get a message across, but what it is, I am not certain.

Eat, Pray, Love
I didn't get this one at all. I am not sure if it was Julia Roberts being Elizabeth Gilbert or just being Julia Roberts, but I found her pretty annoying. I'm all for food appreciation, so the scenes with pasta and pizza were great, but I can (and do) get that by watching Top Chef every week. Maybe the book is better, but the story didn't do it for me, though I realize that I was not the target audience. It's great that Liz Gilbert took a year of her life to "figure things out", but the whole thing seemed preachy to me. And again, not sure whether it's Liz or Julia, but she sure seemed awfully proud of herself for what she was doing. I've talked to Jenn about this, but I'll be interested to do some more reading on the internet to find out exactly what it is that spoke to so many women about this story. Maybe I should just read the book, but like going to the Turkish bath, that just seems like a bad idea from the get go.

I also finished the book I've been trying to get through for months, called "Traders, Guns, and Money" by Satyajit Das. It was recommended on "Planet Money", which is the NPR podcast I listen to regularly. This was a miserable read and I do not recommend it to anyone. I am not a finance nerd, but I thought a book by a guy who has spent his career within the derivatives sector of the finance business sharing his experiences would be interesting along the lines of "Liar's Poker" by Michael Lewis, which is fantastic. This one reads like a text book and getting through it was like trying to finish an entire plate of something that tastes awful. Each page was agony. If I wanted to learn the technical details behind various derivative instruments, I would have actually picked up a text book. I wish Satyajit would have thrown in some personal stories and entertaining anecdotes, or anything to make this dry material a bit more readable.

Skiing For Beginners

Though we never went on ski trips as a family when I was growing up, I have had plenty of other opportunities to go, but it's just never worked out. When we were planning the move to Bratislava, we hit the winter clothing closeouts in Austin and stocked up on skiwear knowing that we would make a ski trip at some point. When it did come time to choose a destination, it was hard to decide as there are multiple options within vicinity of Bratislava. Ultimately, we chose the Gastein Valley, in Austria, south of Salzburg. An American colleague who worked in the Bratislava office for a while recommended a resort he and his family really liked, so rather than stress about trying to find the perfect spot, we went with it.

The Haus Hirt in Bad Gastein is a small family run boutique hotel. It's not in the center of town, so their shuttle came and picked us up at the train station. From the minute we checked in, the owner, Evelyn, and the rest of the staff really went out of their way to make sure our every need was met. The hotel sits on the side of a mountain and has beautiful sweeping views of the valley below. The two other big pluses were the hotel spa (run by Aveda) and the food.

The hotel was all inclusive, so all of our meals were there. Since it was a spa hotel, the food was on the lighter and healthier side, which was nice. It also was very good. Though I'm not a spa person as documented by my previous blog post about the Turkish bath, I kind of dismissed this amenity. This was until I realized how helpful and relaxing sitting in the sauna was after a day of skiing. I became a little addicted to it. The one thing that took some getting used to was that the sauna was co-ed. It was kind of like the gradual process of entering a cold pool, sticking a toe in at first and gradually easing in the rest of the body. The first day, Jenn and I both went in wearing our bathing suits, as a completely nude couple sat facing us. I stared at the floor the entire time. As we became more comfortable, we were able to go in with just our towels on, which wasn't complete assimilation, but good enough. I can appreciate the European easy going attitude toward nudity and sex, but it's very difficult to get past what we've been taught to think about in the U.S.

As for the skiing, I liked it for the most part. It's extremely frightening, especially when the slope is steep and/or the run is along the edge of the mountain. Being a beginner and having little control, it was impossible for me to get the thought out of my mind that any second I could fall, break a bone, or potentially kill myself. I watched very young kids all over the mountains during the week and it struck me that it must be so much easier for them because they don't think like adults. They don't worry about the consequences and aren't logically thinking about how dangerous this activity is. They just go.

My first day was a two hour private lesson in Dorfgastein, which was great. My instructor was really good and I felt really confident coming out of the lesson. I learned to plow, stop, turn, and that's about it. We stayed in the training area the whole time, which was perfect for me, even though I was the oldest one there easily by 25 years. Jenn sat out the first day with an ear infection and a cold. She went to the doctor and got some antibiotics and starting feeling much better the next day.

Jenn is an experienced skier, but it's been about 10 years since she last skied, so she thought one lesson would be good as a refresher. All the confidence I gained the first day was eliminated after the two hour lesson that Jenn and I had on day 2. We had a different instructor than the one I had the previous day and he wasn't good at all. I don't blame him too much as he obviously wasn't prepared to give a lesson that day. It seemed there was a miscommunication and they basically dragged him off of a group lesson with kids to teach us for the morning. At the end of the lesson, he escorted us up the lift to do my first real run. We went on a blue (beginner slope), which turned into a red (intermediate) halfway down the mountain. It was rough to begin with as I fell a few times, but I felt comfortable since the instructor was with us. Unfortunately, halfway down, he received a call from his boss telling him he was needed for something down at the ski school. So, he told Jenn the way to get down and then he left. I'd been skiing for a total of 4 hours in my life, and he left the two of us in the middle of an intermediate slope. It then took us about 45 minutes to get to the bottom and I fell literally about 15 times. It was awful. Jenn said later that on several of them, she wasn't sure whether I was going to get back up. I was sore at the end, but more pissed off that the guy left us than I was frustrated with the skiing. By the way, falling isn't so bad most of the time, but getting back up is a real bitch.

We expressed our dissatisfaction to the ski school when we returned, but they just didn't get it. One of the things that still drives me crazy in Europe is how they really are too easy-going at times. They often don't seem to care about anything.

The rest of the week was better. I became more comfortable as we went on several more blue slopes and a few reds. I still fell a lot, but by the end of the week, I was feeling much more comfortable and in control. There are plenty of things not to like about skiing, the main two being that it's incredibly expensive and the chances of injury or death are much higher than most would admit, but overall, I could see myself trying it again. For me, and this isn't to say this necessarily outweighs all the cons, the views are absolutely stunning and it is an amazing adrenaline rush. Once I really figure out complete control, I could see it being fun going on some of the more challenging slopes. I'm glad I tried it. I would guess many skiers won't tell you this, but I have a feeling part of them thinks like me in that they already spent so much money investing in the clothing and gear, they have to go back for more to get their money's worth.

I do hope we can ski again this winter. There are plenty of places within a couple of hours of Bratislava. I'd like some more practice and then I'll decide if its really for me or not.

For more pictures, click here

Below Zero

It's getting cold here in Bratislava. We had several days and several inches of snow. Neither of us has ever really experienced a true winter. Throughout the week, I saw the Tesco digital thermometer go from 0 to negative 8 (Celsius). The snow is really nice, but the biggest hassle, besides not being able to feel one's toes and fingers, is that it takes an extra 5 minutes or so to get dressed to go anywhere and an additional 5 minutes to undress upon arriving. We are adjusting though. It's not like this is going to go on for another three months. Oh wait...

We had a nice trip into Vienna yesterday to check out their Christmas markets, which were definitely nice. We had lunch with an old friend that I went to summer camp with, Jacob Lewis, his wife, Darcy, and their son, Hersch. The good thing about old friends is that I probably haven't seen Jacob for 10 years or so and it was like it had only been a week. They are living in Vienna while Jacob is on a research grant.

Here are some pictures from our weekend. And I finally posted pictures from our Istanbul trip here.

Bath Time

It's been a week since we went to the Cemberlitas Turkish bath in Istanbul. Now that I've had time to really process my thoughts about the experience, I need to express them. At the least, it'll be therapeutic for me to write it all out.

One might ask why I would even consider going to a Turkish bath. I don't particularly like public gym or locker room situations and this pretty much consolidates all the things I don't like into one. On top of that, I really don't like being touched by others. This is why I don't go to spas and why I've never gotten a massage.

The Cemberlitas bath was built in the 16th century and my understanding is that the original purpose was for Muslims to cleanse themselves before praying, though their website says this one in particular was built to generate revenue for the "Valide-i Atik Charity Complex in Toptasi, Üsküdar", whatever that is. This one is very popular though with tourists and from what we were told, we shouldn't be heroes and try to test out one of the less-touristy ones. Fine by me.

The services were a la carte, so I could have just gone with the basic entry to the bath, and had a swell old time on my own for the morning. It was only a little more to have someone scrub and bathe you and since that seemed to be the way to get the true and full experience, I went with it.
After walking in and paying, Jenn, Anna, and Rachel were taken in one direction to the women's bath section. I was on my own. I was already feeling extremely vulnerable, so it didn't help matters when I was shown to a changing room and told to disrobe. A pastamal, basically a cotton towel wrap, was provided to wrap around my waste. I left all my belongings in the changing room, locked it, and was then escorted downstairs. To get to the bath area, it requires walking through the main atrium where many people are either paying or sitting at tables hanging out. It's awkward.

I entered what appeared to be an enormous sauna. There was a large round marble platform in the middle and it was surrounded by "private" areas along the outer walls with a marble step to sit on and small bird bath looking basins of water. Wrapped in my pastamal, I took a seat on one of the side steps and made an attempt to relax. The sweat was nice, I guess. I've never thought of myself as a germaphobe, but all I could think about the entire time was when was the last time this place was sanitized. And this isn't to say the place didn't look clean, because it did, but it is a few hundred years old and lots of lots naked bodies pass through every single day. When was the water in the basin last changed out? How many other people previously were leaning their bare sweaty backs against the same marble wall against which I was leaning? Needless to say, and this will be a running theme, my biggest problem, is that I couldn't relax. A spa or bath will never be enjoyable without relaxation.

After a while, the other patron in there with me walked over to the large marble slab in the middle and lied down. As he did, one of the men who worked there walked in the room and proceeded to bathe him. I watched in horror as this was happening 5 feet in front of me not because of the actual act, but because I now knew what was coming. The whole process took about 30 minutes and the whole time I was trying to decide if I should cash in my chips right there and leave.

A few minutes later, my anxiety reached new heights as another half naked attendant walked in, first pointed at me and then pointed at the center slab of marble. Now, I know it's hot in there. It's literally a sauna, but I think that they could come up with some kind of uniform for the attendants that would not be too uncomfortable. There I was, lying on my back, with nothing covering me but the pastamal, looking up at a Turkish man in his 40's, also with nothing on but a pastamal wrapped around his waste, ready to use my body as his playground.

He tried to make it more comfortable and put me at ease by talking to me, but it wasn't helping. My body was rigid as a board as he used the loofah type sponge to scrub and exfoliate my skin. He used his bare hands at times to massage different parts of my body, but again, I was so tense, that it did no good. I had my eyes closed for most of it, trying to imagine I was somewhere else, specifically thinking back to February when I was at the Super Bowl watching Tracy Porter intercept Peyton Manning and return it for the game clinching touchdown for the Saints. This image usually helps me in stressful situations, but it wasn't doing much good as reality kept setting in when my hand or other parts of my body would inadvertently brush up against the sweaty flesh of his bare stomach. He could obviously sense how uncomfortable I was and it seemed like he wanted it to be over as much as I did. He continued though for what seemed like an hour, but was probably more like 15 minutes.
 
When it was completely over, he told me I could go back and sit in the sauna. I declined. I was done. I really felt uncomfortable at this point and somewhat violated. I don't use that word lightly and I'm not trying to be funny as I fully understand the connotation. However, I do feel it best describes my state of mind at this point. While I had an idea of what was going to happen, I know I didn't fully grasp what the full experience would be like until I actually went through with it. Now, I know.

I rinsed off in the shower, but still did not feel clean, and headed back upstairs to change. Before I walked out, my attendant strongly encouraged me to bring him a tip when I came back downstairs.

After changing, the upstairs attendant also pushed a tip jar in front of my face to made sure I understood that tipping was not an option. I also tipped the guy downstairs. If only there was an amount of money I could have paid at that point to erase the entire experience from my memory, I would have gladly forked it over.

I sat in the atrium and waited for over an hour before the girls were finished. I tried to think if there was anything that would have made it less stressful for me. I am confident it wouldn't have made a difference if it was a man or woman doing the scrubbing. The sex of the attendant wouldn't have changed the fact that it was a stranger, I was in a strange place, and in a completely vulnerable state being touched all over. They enjoyed the experience much more than me. We went and had lunch and eventually I was able to go back to the hotel and take a nice, long shower. I finally felt clean again.

I realize it sounds like I'm overreacting, and in a way, I know I am, but I'm also being honest. I can't help the way I feel. One of Tigie's (my grandfather) favorite sayings was "different strokes for different folks", so I totally get how some people would enjoy this type of experience. I understand why people get massages and go to spas. I just know it's not for me. It's strange because I come from a very touchy-feely family.
Personal space is sacred to me and I do not like people encroaching on it. I'm not sure why I am the way I am, but at least I know myself and my boundaries. There are other ways in which I choose to relax.

As I reflect back on the experience, I'm glad I tried. Even though I do usually have a very good idea whether I'll like something or not before I do it, there is always the chance I'll be surprised. If the worst thing that happens from trying is getting a naked Turkish man give you a full body scrubbing and rub down, I can live with that.