Best Kind of Lost

Best of August

by Noelle and Dave

 

Although we are dismally lagging behind in our blog posts’ timeliness (yes, we realize it’s mid-October), due to family visits and a trek through the Nepali wilderness, we recently took some time to reflect on our favorite moments from our August spent traipsing across Eastern Europe.

 

She Says:

10. Budapest’s Chain Bridge provided an incredibly romantic place to watch the world go by. Armed with wine and an assortment of snacks, we sat with our feet dangling over the Danube and enjoyed a quiet evening.

9. The bus ride from Split to Dubrovnik gave us some of the best coastal views I’ve ever seen. I am usually one to be found with my head in a book during long drives, but I found I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the window.

8. Our trip to Schonbrunn Palace in Vienna was a beautiful way to pass a sunny afternoon. We lazily strolled the impressive grounds and spent a few hours reading in the shade on a bench overlooking the gardens.

7. Catching a late night showing of Orson Welles’ 1949 black and white film, The Third Man, at a tiny theatre in Vienna will be something I’ll never forget. Watching a mystery unfold on the streets of a post-war Vienna was incredibly moving.

6.  The Wiener Schnitzel at Vienna’s Figlmueller was life changing. That is all.

5. Walking the quaint streets of Cesky Krumlov as evening fell and feeling like the only people who’d ever been there. Loved the spontaneity of our trip to the tiny town, and the vibe was exactly what I had been craving from our European travels.

4.  As our Istanbul visit straddles both August and September, you’ll most certainly find “Turkey food” on both Top 10 lists. The particular experience for this month was our 2 day-long quest to walk as much as we could, fueling ourselves with kebabs, fish sandwiches, baklava, street food and black tea along the way. With endless lamb, spices and sweets devoured in neighborhoods across the city, the culinary experiences this city provided will not soon be forgotten.

3. Prague beers. Cheap, delicious, everywhere.

2. Our day trip to Croatia’s Lokrum Island was just what we needed. Lounging on the stone beaches and snacking on a picnic of bread and meats between dips in the cool waters of the Adriatic Sea was absolute heaven.

1. Dave planned a date night in Istanbul for our first night of arrival, and it was the perfect introduction to a city we quickly fell in love with. After dinner at a cozy restaurant where the food was divine, we next headed to a rooftop with a stunning view of the Hagia Sophia and Blue Mosque as we sipped martinis. After our usual commitment to scrappiness, it’s always fun when you treat yo’self.

 

He Says: 

10. Our victory lap in Stellenbosch. Our flight up to Prague from South Africa was cheapest if we waited a few days after our safari ended, so we spent them in Stellenbosch to revisit one of our favorite stops in July. Really hope there will be a third trip in our future someday.

9. Eating pork knuckle in Cesky Krumlov. Our restaurant felt like we were eating backstage at Medieval Times, and the we got to eat this:

8. Walking Dubrovnik’s City Walls around Old Town. Despite the unfortunately negative connotation I have with much of our time in Croatia (mainly due to crowds and costs), it’s impossible to deny the appeal of the aesthetically pleasing and abundantly historic walls of the Old City as you walk the 2km length of its impossibly well-preserved walls.

7. Schnitzel and kuchen in Vienna. My opinion on many places we have been has been influenced by the food more than I could have imagined. And the breaded pieces of heaven and the sugar coated treats this city has on offer were pretty spectacular.

6. Dinner on the Danube in Budapast. We sat on the edge of the riverside walking path, feet dangling below us as we nommed on some cheap eats from the grocery store and sipped on cheap wine from a water bottle. And the view was pretty breathtaking. I know it’s technically just a lit-up bridge over the Danube, but the Chain Bridge in Budapest is a sight to see at night.

5. Walking the streets of Cesky Krumlov. Strolling the cobblestone streets of this enchanting little town makes you feel like you’re taking a walk back in time, with the medieval castle always over your shoulder as you turn down streets that have probably looked the same for centuries.

4. Our dinner date in Istanbul at a hidden gem of a fish restaurant didn’t disappoint. We’d just endured a brutally long travel day to get to Istanbul, and (excuse me while I pat myself on the back for planning this one) a quiet dinner at a “locals only” hole in the wall behind all the tourist traffic followed by drinks from a rooftop with a view of some of Istanbul’s lit-up landmarks was just what we needed to ease into what would turn out to be one of, if not the, best stops on the trip to date.

3. Walking and eating our way through the start of Istanbul. Our first three days included the Grand Bazaar, Spice Bazaar, Hagia Sophia, Blue Mosque, Basilica Cistern and no less than six “we have to tell someone about this because it’s so friggin’ good” meals – all accomplished on foot without a single train, cab or other form of transportation. Exhausting at times, but so worth it.

2. Our self-guided pub crawling through Prague started off as a plan for one of our days, but quickly became a theme (to varying extents) of each day spent here. With beer being cheaper than water in many places (and oh, so tasty), can you blame us?

1. Calling an itinerary audible in Croatia may seem like a minor event, but this was a game changer and re-energized us for the last half of August which became an amazing one and a half week stretch in Vienna, Budapest and Istanbul. These types of spontaneous decisions are one of the luxuries of this style of travel, and we love us a little spontaneity.

Let’s Talk Turkey

by Noelle

August 29 – September 2

 

…or rather, anything but. Turkey quickly emerged as a frontrunner for our best meals of the trip, but you won’t find the popular white meat on any menu. Lamb, spices, bread and veggies dominate Istanbul’s culinary landscape, and we weren’t complaining.

I had expected lots of flavors due to what I knew of Istanbul’s famous spice bazaar and the tasty mezes they are known for, but the mere barrage of options blew us away. That being the case, Turkish food clearly earned its right to its own post (for a taste of Istanbul’s inedible offerings, check out Dave’s post here). I’ll highlight a few culinary experiences and mouthfuls as I recall my favorite tastes from our time in this beautiful Bosphorus-side city.

But I must first give credit where credit is due. To the kebab. It’s everywhere, served from the grill, a spinning spit or the oven, and it’s ALWAYS good. Take it from two recently-dedicated experts. However, I also must take a moment to thank Anthony Bourdain for making our acquaintance with the very best of the best. The kebab platter from family run restaurant Sur Ocakbasi in the Fatih neighborhood was everything we wanted it to be and more. Spicy, juicy, and served on a plate the size of a small toddler with toasted flatbread on the side, we left swearing we’d never eat again. Which we didn’t. For 4 hours. Not to be outdone, Dürümzade in Beyoglu found us drooling at the spit for their durum kebabs (EDITOR’S NOTE: That’s right. Even our drool was drooling.). We see you Tony. And we like it.

That said, any notions that THIS is the ONLY food worth visiting Turkey for should be abandoned as you indulge me a stroll down Mouth-Watering Memory Lane.

– As I mentioned, meze is big in this part of the world. Which, roughly translated, pretty sure means, “same plate space, more variety of stuff.” With up to 10 items to try at a meal (which for indecisive diners such as ourselves is a gamechanger), we were never left wanting justonemorething (EDITOR’S NOTE: Objection. Technicality. I never wanted “justonemorething” after these meze plates, but just about every time I wanted justonemoreofeverythingwejustate.). One of our favorite (and accidental) meals was at a tiny nameless (literally) place where the handful of tables are cozied up around the kitchen as the chef prepares your meals upon order.

– Dave was up for August date night and found an incredibly cozy, delicious 5-table, 2-man restaurant in Sultanahmet neighborhood, where we were staying. The man who kept the place running was approximately 100 years old, complete with grandfather tendencies, like making sure we ate while the food was hot and insisting we needed more to eat. The chef, a man full of personality (and seemingly, himself), brought the food from the kitchen to our table, anxious for our applause. We gave it to him. First over the grilled calamari, and next over the cold eggplant salad. As a finale, a full, deboned-at-the-table fish dripping in its juices stared back at us, daring us not to drool. We lost. Following dinner (and a standing ovation), we strolled a few streets over, climbing to the rooftop for stunning views of both the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia, nursing an overpriced martini. Worth every penny.

– While we didn’t necessarily dine here, we certainly exercised our scent palate at the spice bazaar. With rows and rows of Turkish and Indian spices, we risked the crushing crowds filling the aisles for the chance to check it out.

– Baklava! Need I say more? Okay, fine. Sticky, gooey, flaky baklava. With dozens of variations of this tiny sweet treat that packs a punch, you could piss off Jenny Craig just stepping into a sweetshop anywhere in town.

– I never thought I’d try a Turkish Delight. Despite being in the cubed candy’s namesake, the thought of putting the seemingly-slimy, expensive “candy” in my mouth had always turned me off. But after realizing that they give FREE samples of the damn things everywhere, my standards evaporated. And thank you to the bakery gods that it did. YUM! The trick? Try the newer, honey-based concoctions. A bit firmer (thus losing the slippery look of it’s sugar-based relatives), and infused with pistachio, rose, pomegranate or almonds, the “free sample” plate became a sudden point of interest as we roamed the streets (EDITOR’S NOTE: Best served with a side of guilt after sampling just about every variety without splurging to buy any of the overpriced packs).

– Fish sandwiches, bones and all, are a common sight near the water, as are the fishermen who catch them. Lined up along the Galata Bridge railing, men (and a few women) young and old toss their poles in hoping to catch a meal. Freshly caught, seared on a grill and tossed on a huge chunk of bread and voila! Lunch.

– Turkish coffee. No. Just No. Unless you’re a martyr like myself and “can’t leave without at least TRYING it,” then fine. But get ready for the sludge. Don’t let the cute mug fool you.

– TURKISH BREAKFASTS. If you take one thing from this post, let it be this. Turkish breakfasts are absolutely-freaking brilliant. Olives, cheese, jams, veggies, chocolate, hot pepper pastes, and a loaf of bread to serve as a shovel to your mouth. I haven’t even mentioned THE VERY BEST PART. The heap of clotted cream doused in honey-goodness they call bal-kaymak. If you can ignore the sound of your arteries clogging, you’ll find yourself in a blissful state that would make any yogi jealous.

– Lahmucen, a flatbread topped with minced meat, veggies and herbs is the fast food of Turkey. It’s a quick, spicy snack that, served hot and doused with lemon, can make your afternoon.

– Kumpir stands litter the Ortakoy neighborhood. What is a kumpir you ask? Some exotic Turkish wonder you must run out and try? Not so much. It is a giant stuffed baked potato that provided one evening’s filling, on-the-go dinner as we strolled along the Bosphorus. Disregarding our carb limit warning sirens, we capped the meal with a chocolate and fruit filled waffle.

– …And everything else…like salted cucumber-esque street food, “wet sandwiches” that taste like sloppy joes and are actually extremely tasty PRE-1 am (EDITOR’S NOTE: Nineteen…. err 21-year-old me would have thrown a dozen of these back per weekend. So good.), the weird bagel-like carb, Simit, topped with sesame seeds and sold on every street corner, the national yogurt-based drink, Ayran, whose sour taste made Dave a one-time sipper and black tea, the ever-present beverage that we learned to crave.

We miss you, Istandbul. As do our tastebuds. Write soon.

Taking Istanbul by the Horns

by Dave

August 29 – September 2

 

Istanbul is a giant global intersection. The city where east meets west… Where Europe meets Asia… Where mustaches are in fashion above the lip and above the eyes… Where cliché meets cliché… The list goes on and all are the descriptions are fitting (at least the ones I didn’t make up), and help convey the abundance of diverse and cultural riches it keeps in its arsenal. And even after just five days in this city where old meets new (as another popular name/saying goes), we were hooked and couldn’t help but leave while still wanting more.

We’ve had shorter stays in previous cities (both on this trip and other weekend getaways in years past), but I can’t remember another place we’ve gone that I’ve been more bummed about leaving than Istanbul – even despite the fact that we barely took a break to catch our breath (unless the shortness of breath was induced by shoveling food into our mouths) during our five days.

While much of what we loved about this city centered around food, I was Istanbullied by Noelle into sticking to the sites, while she dedicated an entire separate post to the mouthwatering offerings we tried (check it out here). But there was more to the story than what we ate. The city has many unique and interesting neighborhoods scattered across the shores of the Bosphorus strait. The majority of Istanbul is in Europe, but a handful of its neighborhoods stretch into Asia, helping Turkey lay claim to being one of only a handful of countries in the world that straddle two continents. One of the more popular and well-known (for visitors at least) neighborhoods is Sultanahmet. Its notoriety comes from, among other things, its major landmarks which include the Blue Mosque, Hagia Sophia and Basilica Cistern.

We rented an apartment in a quieter corner of Sultanahmet, a steal that came complete with views of the Blue Mosque and the Bosphorus Strait pouring into the Mediterranean from the bedroom windows. It provided a good central base to see as much as we could both on and off the beaten tourist track. After a very necessary nap upon arrival, we decided to take a lap around our neighborhood to catch a glimpse of the history in our backyard. We would save the visits inside each landmark for another day, but our tour around the area helped us fully wake up after the fog we were living in from a brutal 24 hours of planes, trains and automobiles (we’ll spare you the details).

Once we got our legs back under us we set out on the town for the first of many mouthwatering meals. I found a hole-in-the-wall seafood restaurant about 10 minutes away from our apartment with local fish that garnered some rave reviews (and rightfully so), and chased that down with martinis at a rooftop overlooking Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque.

The next morning we game planned how we would divide up days to see each area of the city before we left. We began with the two well-known bazaars the city boasts – the Grand Bazaar and the Spice Bazaar. Holding claim to being the oldest mall in the world, the Grand Bazaar offers up everything from touristy t-shirts to Turkish rugs and jewelry in its seemingly endless aisles. We had heard a lot about it and expected a bit of madness, so we took our time taking it all in. Every stall we walked by was staffed by respectfully aggressive sales people – meaning all of them would absolutely do everything in their power to get you to make a purchase, but they were more likely to let us keep going when they knew we weren’t serious customers (unlike many other hawkers we’ve encountered across Europe). It was a cool experience, even if the only thing we purchased there were two kebabs for lunch.

A few more passes through the aisles later, we found ourselves trying to figure out where the heck we were spit out on the other side. After about 20 minutes of walking around hoping we’d find something marked on our map we happened to stumble upon the Spice Bazaar. Not quite as large in size as the Grand Bazaar, but what it lacks in size it makes up for in sensory overload. As soon as you walk in your hit with a wave of smells that beckon you to brave the shoulder-to-shoulder foot traffic to come in and explore.

Next up were the three major landmarks we were anxious to see – Hagia Sophia, the Blue Mosque and Basilica Cistern. We were especially looking forward to these after reading about how our boy Bobby Langdon navigated his way in and around all three in Inferno. And since Bobby (or Dan Brown) did such an amazing job of describing all three in the book, we were our own tour guides. (EDITOR’S NOTE: If by “were our own tour guides” you mean “shouted, ‘look, Medusa!’ in the Cistern,” – the location of the most important scene in the book – then suuuuure we were.)

The Hagia Sophia, complete with its “floating” dome ceiling, has served as a Christian church and a Muslim mosque since it was built in the 6^th century. Confused? So were we. Originally built as a church, it held Christian services for over 900 years until Mehmet the Conqueror came along and was all “I’m here for the conquest… no seriously, it’s part of my name.” After doing what his last name indicates, Mehmet converted the Hagia Sophia to a mosque to remain a symbol of the conquest. Finally, in 1935 the landmark was ordered to become a museum and to recognize both its Christian and Muslim background. Today you can still see signs of both, with distinct mosque features such as the minarets surrounding the exterior that are paired the frescos of Jesus and the Archangels painted across the walls.

Just a stone’s throw away from the Hagia Sophia is the Blue Mosque. It’s another visually impressive building, and is one of the most well known mosques in the world since it’s the only one other than the Grand Mosque in Mecca that has six minarets.

 

The name comes from – you guessed it – the colors in and around the mosque. The domes and minarets are distinctly blue and the interior is adorned with intricately designed blue tiles on the walls.

The Blue Mosque was hard to miss since it was right out our window every morning. That, and the five times daily call to prayer we would hear over the loudspeakers at the mosque. Ezan, as it is called in Turkey, was actually heard throughout the city at sunrise, sundown and in between.

And finally we found ourselves in the Basilica Cistern. Although it’s practically sandwiched between two significant religious buildings, it once served as nothing more than a water source for the city. But what it lacks in historic and religious significance, it makes up for with mesmerizing visual appeal. Set beneath the streets, there are over 336 columns that reflect on the pools of water with red-shaded spotlights. The whole setup gives off a very ominous and eerie feel. But I’ll stop wasting time describing it when the pictures do a much more justice…

When we weren’t checking out the main tourist sites, we were walking. A lot.

We crossed the Galata Bridge to weave our way around the Beyoglu neighborhood on more than one occasion. The Istiklal Caddesi always has something to offer, and many times for us that meant exploring to see what coffee shop, kebab stand or bar we would come across to take a load off.

This wide pedestrian street climbs the hill all the way up to Taksim Square. The same Taksim Square that dominated headlines coming out of Istanbul earlier this year due to some violent clashes between protesters and local police. Being very cognizant of the recent history, we treaded lightly on our way up, but there was nothing stirring so we felt safe enough to check out the area. Even though there wasn’t any “action” to speak of, the police definitely let you know they were there.

One of the days happened to be International Peace Day we were told, and there was a small group of peaceful demonstrators with signs who were flanked by what looked like bulletproof, fire hose-weilding police tanks surrounded by groups of officers decked out with helmets, shields and the full riot control get-up. Not like any of that was intimidating or disconcerting or anything.

We continued even further north to explore the Ortakoy neighborhood after reading about its famed kumpir – basically the most loaded baked potato you can ever imagine. The neighborhood also happens to be just below the Bosphorus Bridge, providing some nice waterfront real estate to take in that we used to distract ourselves from the fact that we were eating about 5 lbs of baked potato for dinner.

Speaking of the Bosphorus, we felt obligated to take a ride up and down one of the most trafficked trade routes in the world to view the city from the water. The Bosphorus strait connects the Black Sea to the Mediterranean, and hosts non-stop boat traffic between ferries, cruise ships, oil tankers and other watercraft of all shapes and sizes.

So we did it. A relaxing couple hours on the water, to be certain, but not necessarily the first thing we’d write home about.

And finally, we made a point of exploring some of the less-frequented Asian side of the city in the Kadikoy neighborhood.

We could have gone over just for the brunch and back and I would have been satisfied (mouthwatering photos and prose to spare here), but we spent the entire day lazily walking around, taking in the waterfront walkway with views out into the Mediterranean and zig-zagging through the streets in search of some local markets and eats. We found both in more than one location, and also found ourselves a quiet bar for some beers to rest our legs. After the first round we ended up being joined by a drunk local who was excited to see Americans visiting this side of the city. So excited in fact, that he picked up our tab. Jury’s out on whether he a) remembered or b) regretted this decision when he sobered up later. Either way, a nice way to wrap the day up across the water before we ferried back to Europe while the sun set over Sultanahmet.

And to think we were this close to not even coming here. We fit a lot into our short time, and still felt as if there was so much more we weren’t able to cram into our time. Here’s to hoping we meet again soon, Istanbul.

Danube Dreamin’

by Noelle

August 26 – 28

 
First lesson in our Hungarian crash course…this small Eastern European city responsible for the Rubix Cube, bendy buses, mass production of soda water (long story, but to hear them tell it, it vaguely has to do with them “inventing” wine spritzers…hmmmm…), the ball point pen and Zsa Zsa Gabor is actually pronounced “Buda-pescht.” Take note and avoid ridicule. You’ll thank us later.

Arriving in the early morning hours due to our dependency on the local train schedule, we stopped first quickly at our Budapest accommodation to drop our bags. We scored BIG with this place, finding a new posting on Airbnb that included a living room, kitchen and bathroom all SEPARATE from the bedroom and steps from St. Stephen’s Basilica…all to ourselves. A welcome respite in our recent “who’s who” in cramped-European-room history. Did I mention the mode of transport to this mythical land?

The hosts, Edina and Mark, were awesome, and we spent some QT with them getting tips on their hometown before heading out to explore. They live with their kids outside the city but had been in town to catch the Pink Floyd concert the night before. Like I said, awesome.

We immediately ventured out and after first fueling up with coffee (priorities. it’s better for EVERYONE involved), we hit up Central Market Hall, the largest and oldest indoor market in the city, pedaling everything from clothing and handmade tablecloths to meats, cheeses and local wines. Our research prior to arrival had encouraged us to pick up a Lángos from the second floor, and this fried piece of dough topped all sorts of awesome (the local favorite including cheese and sour cream) proved secondary to my happiness after coffee. Taking it a step further on this rainy day, we ponied up to the cozy bar nestled in a far corner of the market, the lone patrons aside from two eighty-year-old men, whose loud, clunky (to our ears) Hungarian, empty beer glasses and playful winks sent my way pegged them as regulars who did as they pleased. Naturally, Dave immediately wanted to befriend them.

After a few hours and short venture down the popular pedestrian shopping street, Váci utca, in the rain, the promise of a comfortable couch in a spacious room that didn’t include a bed, led us to the decision to make it an early night, bringing snacks and wine back to our place.

As an aside, something that continued to catch my attention throughout Europe was the dedication to details on bathroom and street signs. Perhaps we have the Renaissance to thank for this creativity? It became a habit to snap shots of my favorites as we went along, and Budapest didn’t fail to add to my arsenal.

Back to Buda. With only a few days to enjoy this former Roman/Ottoman/Austro-Hungarian city (although I wouldn’t mention that description to anyone over the age of 20), the next morning we took advantage of our favorite trip discovery – the ever-popular free walking tour. Joining our local guide and a handful of eager travelers we quickly traversed the easily-walked city, checking out the major sites including Vorosmarty Square, St. Stephen’s Basilica and Parliament on the Pest side and crossing the Danube to the Pest side via one of the many bridges to complete the tour of the older monuments, like the Fisherman’s Bastion, Buda Castle and Matthias Church.

After tipping our guide, we took off to explore a bit on our own. Splitting an obligatory bowl of Hungarian Gulash (spicier than it’s relative in Prague) to stave off any h-anger (EDITOR’S NOTE: Traveling with Noelle is like a never-ending quest to avoid the Hanger Games, and the odds are never in my favor), we were once again ready to rock.

Our favorite spot quickly emerged as the elaborate Chain Bridge (known locally as Szechenyi Bridge) stretching across the Danube River. Stunning at day or night, the bridge seemed to be the unofficial center of the city, pulsing with energy at all hours, and providing a beautiful place to lounge and take in both sides of the river.

The remainder of our day included an exploration of the other side of interest in this city – the infamous Ruin Pubs. These pubs, housed in dilapidated buildings that were abandoned since the 1940’s, have come to popularity recently. Eclectic and funky décor (using otherwise forgotten items like a broken lawnmower or headless dolls…very retro-trash-turns-art…), with cheap beers and hipster vibe, we loved every minute, wishing we could stay forever, getting lost in the Jewish quarter where these pubs run rampant.

 

A long walk down the iconic boulevard of Andrássy Avenue, lined with lush trees, neo-renaissances mansions and high-end boutiques, led us to the final corner of the city left to discover. Heroes Square showcases statues of famous Hungarian figures, including the seven tribe leaders that founded the country in the 9th century and is surrounded by the never-ending City Park. Over 300 acres of picturesque and peaceful spaces, we could have passed days reading and wandering the grounds.

Plus, WE FOUND HOGWARTS.

And so you don’t think I’ve forgotten to address the fact that this city is built on world’s largest thermal water cave system, no, we did not visit a bath house. Although they rank high on every Budapest “must-do” list, we skipped this particular activity, as shared bathwater creeps me out. Plus our tour guide said he’d heard of many-an-orgy taking place in these places. So, no. Just, no.

Stagnant water aside, Budapest, although a last minute decision based on the fortunes of train powers that be, proved to be an excellent detour, leaving us yearning for more time.  However, with a flight to Turkey already booked from Vienna the next morning, we hopped the train back and waved goodbye to the Hungarian skyline.

In the Wien-ers Bracket

by Dave

August 20-25

 

After making our last-minute audible, opting for schnitzel, kuchen and coffee shops in place of the overcrowded, speedo-friendly islands of Croatia’s Dalmation coast, we find ourselves in the heart of Vienna.

So basically we swapped wieners for WIEN-ers.

Thanks to an eclectic Slovenian expat with a heart of gold, we spent a little under a week in a cozy, lived-in room in the heart of the city while our host was away volunteering in Ethiopia on holiday. Based in the shadows of St. Stephen’s Cathedral with easy access by foot to all of the major sights, bites and sips, we were confident in our to-do list for Austria’s capitol city.

Much like Prague, walking around Vienna fits the image I had in my head of what a historic European city should look and feel like. Neo-everything style buildings in all directions, littered with history and significance around every corner.

We arrived knowing little-to-no German beyond hello, goodbye, thank you, and schnitzel. We quickly learned “café und kuchen” (much more fun than saying “coffee and cake”), which we sampled anywhere and everywhere, and with that and “schnitzel” (much more on both later), we considered our German sufficient.

Based on what we had read about Vienna and seen in friends’ pictures from their previous visits, there were three main sites we wanted to check off our must-see list: St. Stephen’s Cathedral, the Naschtmarkt and Schonbrunn Palace.

So, naturally, our first stop was that giant cathedral around our corner. St. Stephens is visible from just about everywhere around the city because of the height of its spires, but it’s also impressive from up close.

The plaza around it, aptly named Stephensplatz, was buzzing with activity and foot traffic each time we passed through (EDITOR’S NOTE: Think Times Square, minus 300k people, plus cool accents).

We haven’t been keen to pay entrance fees for museums or other famous attractions (cathedrals among them) so we were content taking in the view from outside and around.

Next up was Naschtmarkt (best pronounced by trying to hock up phlegm at the “schtm”). It’s been around since the 16^th century, and where it lacks in vowels it makes up for with food for days. But we were there for just one, so we were quick to start picking things to eat. Some of us (read: me) were too quick. The first cheese stuffed olives we found were too much for me to pass up, and only after purchasing them did I realize  I had paid the Euro-equivalent of $1 USD per olive. My frustration was compounded by the fact that every single other vendor was selling the exact same olives for fractions of the price. Naschtmarkt 1. Dave 0. (EDITOR’S NOTE: New rule. No purchases allowed in first 10 stalls of any foreign market/bazaar.)

After the small misfire, we rightly indulged in some falafel and kebabs, bought some pita bread and fruit to bring back to the apartment, and washed the days’ spending frustration and food down with some local beers. So all in all, not a bad trip.

Schonbrunn Palace was a visual delight and gardener’s dream.

We once again passed on paying admission to go inside to look around and instead spent our time walking around the impressive and extensive gardens surrounding this summer home of the famed Habsburg family. You know, because why wouldn’t  you build a 1,441 room palace and designate it as nothing more than your place to get away during the summer?

So enough about the sites. We love us some eats and drinks, and Vienna is known for some of both. We begin with the signature dish – Weiner Schnitzel. As much my inner 12-year old was hoping the name had no particular rhyme or reason beyond providing easy humor (huh huh… it says weiner… huh huh…), it turns out there’s a logical reason for the name. Vienna goes by Wien locally, so it’s basically just saying that it’s schnitzel from Vienna. I’m sure many of you reading this had already put this together, but this guy had not. Pathetic jokes aside, there’s a reason it was named after this city – they do it right. And the place to get it – Figlmuller – just so happened to be a 2 minute walk from our apartment. Sure, you can say that breaded veal is breaded veal anywhere. But you would be mistaken. We had it again soon after leaving Vienna, and nothing matched the deliciousness on a plate that Figlmuller brought us. Just look at these monsters.

Austria also is known for its pumpkin seed oil, or at least some parts of the country are. Who knew? So we paired our schnitzel with some potato salad dressed in pumpkin seed oil. The zin to our schnitzel zang, if you will (and it’s fine if you won’t, I understand). After the food was served, this happened. Fast.

We may or may not have gone here twice. But when we weren’t eating and/or dreaming about Figlmuller, we found our way around some of the famed coffee shops in the city to try out some mélanges (a fancy way of saying coffee with steamed milk) and the always fun-to-say combo of “café und kuchen,” or coffee and cake.

My favorite for the coffee and the cake was definitely Café Central. The place boasts that it has been around since the 1800’s and has had a notable crowd of regulars over the years. If you stumbled in for some caffeine in 1913 for instance, there was a decent chance you could listen to Sigmund Freud talk psychology, Adolf Hitler spit nonsense, and Vladimir Lenin and Leon Trotzky discuss a Russian revolution.

As for us during our multiple visits to Café Central, we didn’t talk about much other than the spread of kuchen in the place, and mowed through the apfelstreudel, chocolate truffle cake, peanut brittle cake and a couple other slices of heaven that they serve.

We also checked out a couple less crowded, but equally renowned (by those who write on the internets at least) spots such as Café Hawelka, Café Demel and Café Pruckel.

So in conclusion, we saw, we experienced, we ate, we drank and we enjoyed. But one last experience that my lovely wife discovered for a quiet night to complete our stay provided the icing on the cake kuchen. Just down the Ringstrasse (the main road that circles the heart of Vienna, and as we discovered, provides a perfect morning running route) from the famed Vienna Opera House is a charming little movie theatre named Burg Kino. And in addition to the current movies they show and promote on the large posters outside (I see you, Matt Damon) twice a week they show an old Orson Wells movie named “The Third Man.” The movie is based in Vienna and is set just after World War II. We don’t pretend to be classic movie buffs, but we were intrigued. We walked in to find the theatre to ourselves after getting tickets. How much were the tickets you ask? I don’t remember exactly. What I do remember is that we got a discount because… wait for it… we’re unemployed. No joke. The friendly faces behind the counter have a soft spot for those fresh out of work. I’m sure there are many other visitors who are unemployed by circumstance, rather than by choice like we are, but nonetheless we were pretty excited about it. (EDITOR’S NOTE: Look, ma! Told you there’d be a payoff!) Shortly after we sat down, the lights dimmed and the black and white film projected in front of us (no previews for the old-timers), making for a cozy old-fashioned date night to wrap a bow on our time in this charming and underrated city.

With little time to plan beforehand, I left feeling like we had seen and done just about everything we’d hope to in five days. We had planned following up Vienna with a couple nights in the quaint mountain town of Hallstatt a few hours west, (EDITOR’S NOTE: In full disclosure, the jaunt to the Austrian countryside had more to do with my vision of spinning in circles, arms raised, belting, “…the HILLS are ALIIIIIIVE” versus any actual historical merit.) however after getting the run-around from a guesthouse we thought we had a room reserved in (pretty sure I called “no take-backs” when she offered our room, but we got the silent treatment from the manager after a follow-up email and phone call to confirm the booking… so that was fun) we decided to maintain our August theme of spontaneous itinerary changes and shifted our focus eastward and booked a train to Budapest.

A Tale of Two Cities

by Noelle

August 11 – 20

 

Croatia. The unknown destination on our itinerary that we blindly assumed would quickly make it’s way to one of our highlights of the year. I can’t describe it another way – we didn’t know much about it aside from its famed beautiful Adriatic waters and Dalmatian coast, but we had a gut feeling we’d fall in love with this island-dense country on-the-spot.

Spoiler Alert: Our romance was short-lived.

The courtship started out strong with views like the below out the plane window. Our breath hitched, this was the relaxing “beach vacation” we’d been waiting for. Forget the endless days of sight seeing, animal hunting, wandering museums and contemplating architecture. I was going to get my tan on.

We landed in Split, the easiest destination for a flight from the Czech Republic. Croatia flirted with us, welcoming us with homemade sherry and a spacious room with air conditioning (the one downfall of our room in Prague) courtesy of our non-English speaking host (EDITOR’S NOTE: Whose name we never knew. An unlikely theme throughout our accommodations in Croatia). Setting out to explore this Dalmatian city, to our dismay, we found the early-relationship butterflies quickly subsided. The beaches were SUPER tacky, filled with endless tourists, hot dog stands and naked children (seriously, your daughter is 10…get her a bathing suit). And everything was outrageously expensive.

It’s not your fault, Croatia. You’re the Mediterranean’s Prom King. Even the EU has decided to let you play with them. We chose to visit at theverypeakseason that every guidebook discourages you against. And maybe we were still wistfully hung-up on our hot and heavy fling with the Czechs. Add to that our discovery that there are no sand beaches in Croatia…it was over before it began. (Did we mention the amount of research we did for this visit?)

Not all was lost, with amazing views like old European men in speedos playing chess. Nothing says confidence like this.

We did the obligatory stroll through the city, exploring the charming streets inside Diocletian’s Palace and roaming the many beaches, trying to rekindle “the feeling,” but it fell flat. Perhaps we are more immune to small “historical towns” at this point of our trip? The 2-day stay passed quickly, with a highlight in the form of one of our fallbacks – an outdoor picnic.

We boarded a bus to Dubrovnik, with hopes that our second Croatian city would wine and dine us with more panache.

Let’s take a minute to acknowledge the incredible scenery your coastline brings to the table, Croatia. Proving further it’s probably not you, it’s us. If a second chance for romance arises, I would work to convince Dave to stay at one of these cozy looking towns in the middle of this amazing coastline.

We arrived in the city known for its formidable walls that run almost 2k around the heart of the city (and more importantly to some – ME!, ME! – as the location used to represent King’s Landing in HBO’s Game of Thrones) and felt our pulse quicken. Looking back, this could have been caused by the adrenaline rush from arriving in a city with no room booked, giving our loyalty to the bus station stranger who offered the best price for a private room, and a free ride in his station wagon…again, remaining nameless throughout our 7-day stay. We’re not proud. But it happened.

Also perched on the Adriatic Sea, Dubrovnik’s crystal clear waters and old city feel charmed us upon arrival. With a full week ahead of us and nothin’ but time, we looked forward to exploring. Our shock at the lack of sand beaches had faded and we found a secluded beach used mostly by locals, laid out our towels on the rocky shore and sunned ourselves, like contented cats in a patch of sun. Appreciating the lazy lifestyle (and lack of sand in our suits), we readjusted our attitudes and enjoyed some long strolls through the limestone-paved pedestrian streets of Old Town, even discovering a hidden entrance to a bar built against the walls (brilliant) where we watched locals leap from the cliffs.

We took a day-trip to the island of Lopud (also full of tourists, but the change of scenery added flavor), walked atop the city walls for the best views Dubrovnik had to offer, and even caught a water polo game flanked by a pirate ship (the fans being the most interesting part to watch).  But, as our meals mainly consisted of groceries (see above: outrageous prices), often splitting a lackluster sandwich or salad, the usual food exploration we anticipated with each new country was left with much to be desired.

Overall, we were just missing “the feeling.” You know what I’m talking about. He’s gorgeous, he’s funny and smart, everyone loves him…but he’s just not “the one.” (EDITOR’S NOTE: What’s happening? Where is this guy you speak of? Introduce me to him and see what happens.)

Our final day gave us the closure we’d been looking for, in that “what an awesome last rendez-vous, but it’s clearly still over,” way. We took a short ferry to Lokrum, a small island right off Dubrovnik’s shoreline. The heavily wooded island brought to mind Jurassic Park – minus the prehistoric carnivorous threats – and we felt ourselves fully relax. With some new experiences (Google FKK beaches…but not at work…and definitely not the images), a peaceful walk through the hushed island and a couple lazy hours spent reading on shaded benches, we counted the ways we loved thee in a bout of optimism.

However, in the end, still slightly disillusioned (and budget-conscious), we dropped the idea of heading out to the more high-profile Croatian islands, only to have our heart broken further, and instead decided to go back to the one that has never let us down. The butterflies were back. We were headed to Vienna!

Bohemian Castle-sody

by Dave

August 9-10

 

Having never been to any part of Europe prior to this trip, the only exposure I’ve had to castles in person were with ones made of sand. Those ones sucked. But when hearing something described as a “small castle town” over in these parts, my ears perk up. That’s exactly what happened when our friends Emily and Jake suggested we look into a short side trip to Cesky Krumlov from Prague, and after some quick research we decided it was worth the 3-hour bus ride.

Cesky Krumlov has been around since the 14^th century, and the castle has been the center of the town since day 1.

Interestingly, the castle – second largest in the Czech Republic behind Hradcany Castle in Prague – is surrounded by a moat that to this day still doubles as a home to brown bears. Early occupants of the castle took up bear keeping as a hobby because why not? so they could use the imposing animals to discourage potential intruders. These bad boys have been relegated to the moat since 1707. There are four bears kept in the moat these days to ward off all the intruders attract tourists closer to the castle to pay admission for tours.

These days the castle and the rest of Old Cesky Krumlov has been designated a World Heritage Site by the friendly folks at UNESCO. While it attracts plenty of visitors, it’s far from congested. The crowds are just manageable enough for the town to maintain its Bohemian charm. The heart of the city is outlined and criss-crossed by the meandering Vitava River. And it comes complete with street musicians, delicious restaurants and local watering holes serving the same cheap and delicious cold beverages we grew to love in Prague.

Because we booked this two-night side trip so last minute (a theme that rang true for much of August), we arrived without a ton of background knowledge on this little town. So we started to familiarize ourselves by doing what we do best – getting outside to aimlessly walk around exploring until we find something worth stopping at.

That something happened to be a restaurant overlooking the river which we stumbled upon just as some afternoon showers started to come down. Delicious food, another giant beer on a river with a castle in the background and an oversized umbrella overhead? Don’t mindifwedo. We capped the night off at Two Mary’s with a bohemian feast. Chicken drumsticks, Czech dumplings, sauerkraut, some veggies and a few other items we’re not sure about filled the platter and then our stomachs and day 1 was a wrap.

We kicked off day two by booking a brewery tour at Eggenberg Brewery, a local outfit that has been brewing the same beers since the 16^th century. Sounded intriguing enough, but the tour took an unexpected turn as we got started. And by unexpected turn, I mean our tour guide was either high, drunk or both, and for being designated as an English tour guide, his handle on the language left a lot to be desired. Noelle was at her wit’s end early on during the tour, but I was loving every second (EDITOR’S NOTE: Seriously? I paid money for you to wander off midsentence on more than one occasion, leave us stranded in the brewery room when we stopped for photos and act as if anyone who didn’t have intimate knowledge on the brewing process already was a waste of your breath? That’s what a BREWERY TOUR GUIDE DOES, buddy.).

Imagine a Czech version of Seth Rogan, but with longer hair, not even a hint of deodorant and the awkwardness of Chris Farley from his Chris Farley Show sketches on Saturday Night Live. Now take that guy, let a week pass without showering and throw him in front of 20 English speaking tourists, and there you have it. Time for a brewery tour.

A few fun facts he shared – the building is falling apart (which he finds hilarious), he lives on the premises but only brews the beer two days a week (don’t want to infringe on his “extracurriculars”), and they brew an “employee batch” so that he and his buddies can constantly be drinking while on the job. But other than that, it was a super informative tour and totally worth the expense.

The one saving grace was that our admission tickets got us two free beers at the end in the brew pub. While enjoying our cold beers, we chatted up the couple across the table from us who we found out was from Malta.

Like we had done a handful of times before, we ended up sticking around to get to know our new friends for about an hour longer than we had planned to stay, and exchanged contact info so we now have free accommodations if/when we make it to Malta. A nice end to a confusing morning.

We chased our beers with a quick walk through the castle grounds to take in some views of the city from above, and even caught a glimpse of one of the brown bears in the moat. If you think seeing bears at the zoo can be somewhat depressing since they’re so far outside their natural habitat, imagine one that sits alone in an empty concrete moat all day for the viewing pleasure of people like yours truly. A rough way to live, but we weren’t gonna not take pictures…

Before we said farewell to this country we came to love so quickly, there was one last bit of local fare we had to try – pork knuckle.

We found a local restaurant named Krcma v Satlavske (try saying that 10 times fast) that supposedly had some of the best in town and we spent the afternoon salivating. Or at least I did. This giant crispy-skinned chunk of meat is as salty as they come, and once you get through thick layer of fat and have some of the savory meat and crispy skin, you realize that it’s some pretty tasty stuff. Pair it with some sauerkraut and a cold mug of beer and you’re scratching me right where I itch.

With full stomachs and livers begging for a break, we rose before sunshine the next day to begin the trek south to coastal Croatia.

 

58 Liters of Beer on the Wall

by Noelle

August 4 – 8

 

Czechs drink more beer than any nation in the world – 157 liters per person every year (more than the German or Irish). And so, as Dave and I polished off a total of 58 in a mere 4 days in Prague, we considered a permanent move as we’ve clearly found Our People.

Fine. Maybe not, but as we paid no more than $2.50 for a half liter of beer during our visit, we’re at least considering dual citizenship. This place makes their title a foregone conclusion, as it makes it impossible for you NOT to drink 157 liters of the cold, frothy beverage. It’s available ANY time (like with breakfast), ANY place (you’re at a book shop? there’s a tap.), and it’s cheap as heck (see above). And? It is so so GOOD.

And, like the Czech Republic, we were totally equal beer opportunists. Dark, light, big, small, full-bodied, flat, we liked them all. Except small. (EDITOR’S NOTE: Many of the no-nonsense bartenders would literally just ask “Dark or light? Big or small?” when we sat down. Almost a friendly, passive way of saying “shut up and drink your beer.”) We loved the strong, hoppy flavor of Pilsner Urquell and Kozel’s medium and dark lagers best (me, medium; Dave, dark). Runners-up included the sweet and somewhat flat Krusovice, the light, fruity flavor of Staropramen, Budvar (no relation to Budweiser), the unpasteurized Bernard with it’s distinct bitter-sweet flavor as well as the easy-drinking Gambrinus (the best-selling beer in the country…and more importantly to some, the sponsor of their football league).

In case after reading the above you have booked a plane ticket to Prague and leave tomorrow, here are a few things you should know:

• The number you see attached to your beer does not, as in America, refer to alcohol content. Instead, it identifies the “degree,” translating to the amount of malt extract used in the brewing process. What you Miller Lite and PBR drinkers are used to? Is between 10 – 12 degrees. But their beers can reach up to 19 degrees. That’s what the guy who just told you he rode Pegusus, the winged horse, to the bar that night is drinking.
• So you like your beers without bacteria? Well you may want to double check your order when you pony up to the bar at a Czech tankova, or tank pub. They serve unpasteurized beer on the regs. Normally, the beer making process includes heating it up to kill the lurking bacteria and basically make it okay for export (giving it a longer shelf life). Prague’s tankovas serve their pivo (what we locals call beer) from steel tubes or tanks (delivered by tanker trucks and hooked directly to the pubs basement pipes, no fuss). Beer is then served fresh from the tanks, ideally giving more complex flavors full of hops and spices.

Consider your self learn-ed.

And despite what you might be thinking, we didn’t just drink our way through the county. We DINED! Oh how we dined.

First, dear readers, I must file a complaint. Every woman in this country is so. damn. thin. And this perplexes me, because below is an average summation of what my daily menu looked like:

And did I mention the beers for breakfast thing yet?

So, I am just going to assume the stick-thin, clothing-light women of Prague have found the miracle to weight loss in carbs, hops and gravy. Did I also mention the moving here plan?

Oh right! The sights. Prague is BEAUTIFUL. The enormous Prague Castle (and St. Vitus Cathedral within the walls) was stunning and it’s gardens provided incredible views of the city. Old Town Square provided some of the best people watching of our trip, and the beauty of the Astrological Clock drew tourists from all over the city. The incredible myriad of architectural styles, vibe while strolling across the Charles Bridge and the easy way of getting around town had us hesitant to pack our bags.

 

And yet we must say our goodbyes. My parting advice…

During tomorrow’s layover en route to the beer capital of the world, make sure to take note of the following pubs that you must remember. U Zleteho Tygra (Golden Tiger), where a Czech president once took our then-President Bill Clinton, who as a result canceled his run for the next morning. Our favorite of the trip, U Cerneho Vola (Black Ox), one of the last authentic pubs built after World War II, later bought by the rugged regulars when talks of redevelopment of the building swirled so they could ensure a place they could afford to drink. And still do. U Pinkasu, the first Pilsner pub opened in 1843, with great food and an awesome patio nestled behind the building. Pivnice U Rudolfina, a Czech pub at it’s finest with long wooden benches along the wall of a basement, where the smoke is thick and the beers fresh from the tank. U Medvidku (Little Bears), built with five centuries of beer hall street cred and a mecca for Budvar drinkers. Finally, grab an outdoor seat at an oversized, shared picnic table and relax with beers and food at Pivovar Strahov, the monastery brewery. They even have IPAs for hop-lovers like ourselves. God bless you (even more, that is), Czech monks.

As we had slowly, but surely, completely rearranged our August (where we had planned to explore the beaches of Sri Lanka atop elephants, but had a change of heart that led us back to Europe), we were off to Croatia, but not before a quick side-trip to the Czech countryside.

Otherwise, I’d still be on the former Prez’s old stool sucking down some bacteria.

July’s Best From the Road

by Noelle and Dave

 

As it’s said, life is made up of moments. And in special situations (weddings, milestone birthday parties, prom, round the world trips), each moment is amplified as you are determined to make each count.

But are YOUR moments really as monumental to someone else? I think of this specifically in relation to the people we meet on the road. Will the New Zealand couple who gifted us a kiwi pin after a shared dinner in Spain remember our names upon returning home? Will the couple from Malta remember the promise to keep in touch that we traded over beers in the Czech Republic? Will the lone English hiker in the Simiens recall his offer for us to stay with him if we make it to Taiwan? The impact simple moments make on us during our travels continue to surprise us.

Speaking of moments…

Enough poetic waxing and let’s get back to our favorite moments from July – a month spread among four countries in Africa which saw us spending 25 days with a rental car or truck on the open road.

 

She Says:

10.  I will have many, many memories from our self-drive safari, but one of my favorite moments of each day was dinnertime. Specifically, the first evening, when I was still a bit nervous about our yet-to-be-tested “roughing it” skills. After failing to stock up on food before turning off the highway and making the long drive down the unpaved road that would lead to our first campsite (rookie mistake), we resorted to throwing some rice in a pot over our tiny gas grill, opening some peri peri spice packets and enjoyed this camp-made eaten-in-total-darkness dinner over some local wine more than most of our meals to date. Later upgrading to meats on the braii, this became a peaceful ritual I won’t ever forget.

9.  Walking a cheetah at sunset in the quiet of the wild was awesome. Dave’s unbridled anticipation for this day had finally rubbed off, and the power of these animals in contrast with their playfulness was a total trip.

8. With no plans for what was next, Dave and I called an audible and scrapped our plans for an unenthusiastically anticipated trip to Sri Lanka, booking instead, a flight to Prague, which led to a short tour through Eastern Europe. It’s the best part of this kind of trip – the flexibility for last-minute changes…not something that was formerly a forte! Look ma – GROWTH!

7.  I Skype with my family a lot. But I’ll always specifically remember Skyping with my mom and sister (home for a visit) over oysters and beers on a Knysna bar patio with Dave (we take solid internet wherever we can get it). We were literally laughing hysterically as we caught up. I always feel recharged after a long chat with home.

6.  The impromptu concert we witnessed at our middle-of-the-woods Wild Spirits backpackers lodge was to be precise, trippy. These things just don’t happen to me in Lincoln Park, and it was sweet.

5. Although the Knysna “Oyster Fest” failed to meet our expectations, I loved that Dave and I still made an adventure of it. The first night, after failing to find a single bivalve mollusk, we just hung out at the local craft fair feasting on mussels, beers and had an awesome night listening to a terrible local band. Sometimes it’s the unexpected that makes things more memorable.

4. Our Bites & Sites tour on a sunny day in Stellenbosch was by far one of the highlights of our whole trip so far. As it won’t surprise those who know me well, artisan food paired with local beers and wines more than piqued my interest…and appetite.

3. Despite my better half hosting most of the “passion for animals” in the relationship, the boat cruise on the Chobe river was absolutely incredible, and had me joining Dave in the “DID YOU SEE THAT?” chant, popular with safari-ers. With elephants, crocs, cape buffalo and hippos at every turn, our time on the water was unforgettable. This actually tied with the banana ice cream and tandoori sauce at the restaurant buffet, but animals won by a nose (get it??).

2. Seeing a lion in the wild. ALL UP IN MAH FACE.

1.  Catching the sunset at the top of Dune 45 in Sossusvlei was amazing, beautiful, peaceful and once-in-a-lifetime. African sunsets are in a league by themselves anyway, and with the added vista of the sun soaked red dunes, this one takes the cake.

He Says:

10. My beard’s last stand. Three and a half months without a trim resulted in by far the biggest beard I’ve ever had. In the end, the heat we’ll be in for the next few months would make keeping it unbearable, so it was time. It gave us unwarranted credibility (with people assuming we were “hearty,” being asked if we were on the Amazing Race, invoking fear to the point that we never once were questioned or slowed down at a border crossing) that we will try to regain at some point in the next 9 months. A little part of me died when my cheeks saw the sunlight for the first time since spring. But fear not, it’s going to grow back, just less like Forrest Gump and/or Zack Galifianakis.

9. Victoria Falls was an amazing thing to see and hear up close. It was also just bizarre to think that we were on the border of Zambia and Zimbabwe, even if for no other reason than it’ll be the only time I’m on the border of two countries starting with a “Z.” So there’s that.

8. Our Bites and Sites tour of Stellenbosch helped me quickly fall in love with this city just outside Cape Town. We lucked out by being the only ones on the tour, so we got to know some amazing cafes, wine bars, butchers and pastry shops in the span of 3 hours that otherwise may have been overlooked.

7. Wilderness, South Africa was a stop we enjoyed so much the first time through that we booked a second night on our return trip along South Africa’s Garden Route. With an amazing place to stay at Xanadu Guesthouse with the beach right out our back door, a day of canoeing and plenty of relaxation, we enjoyed all of our time here.

6. Our boat safari in on the Chobe River in Botswana provided some amazing and up-close animal viewing with a backdrop of the unmatched sunsets of Botswana that lived up to the hype. It was the first of multiple days where I was embracing animal overload.

5. Watch the sunset at Dune 45 near Sossusvlei, Namibia. We would have loved to have clear, calm weather for our other full day in the dunes of Sossusvlei and Dead Vlei, but Dune 45 would still have been hard to top. Amazing colors of the dunes with shadows dancing as the sun set across the valley. Running down was cool, too, but one thing that will always stick out is the deafening silence at the top. Don’t know how else to describe it.

4. Our dinners during the self-drive safari were the best. Our grilled lamb chops and sausages outside the gates of Etosha National Park or our grilled sausages on the Okavango River in the Caprivi strip were some of my favorites, but there’s just something about any meal cooked over the fire while camping under amazingly clear star-lit skies while hearing wildlife around you that won’t ever get old.

3. Cheetah walking – we got to walk a cheetah on a leash. Need I say more?

2. All of our animal sightings in Etosha will not soon be forgotten, most notably the male lion on our last day and the two nights spent at our campground’s waterhole watching elephants, rhinos, giraffes and other animals all interact. This was the pinnacle of our animal viewing that I had been looking forward to for months.

1. Making it through nearly two weeks of sleeping on the roof of a truck while on our own in Africa. This will forever be one of, if not the, coolest travel experiences of our lives.

 

August filled up fast with stops in the Czech Republic, Croatia, Austria, Hungary and Turkey, providing even more unforgettable moments for our second stint in Europe. Stay tuned!

 

We Bid Our Self-Drive Safari “A-dune”

by Noelle

July 26 – 31

 

We departed from Etosha, plum tired of spending all day playing I-spy in national parks, where your tired eyes play tricks, replacing bushes with crouching lions and a breeze through the trees with a yawning leopard. Not to mention the constant adrenaline rushes and skipped heart beats when you do spot one of the more elusive animals. Okay, well, one of us was tired. Our drive now turns to more scenic adventures, with our first order of business taking us miles and miles through Damaraland, a strange, mountainous stretch of desert-like land, pocked with red hills and petrified forests. Perhaps it was once again my prior ignorance of Africa’s topography, but I was shocked at the dramatic change from the dry plains and salt pan of our previous drives. Either way, it was beautiful, and if you’re driving at least 4 hours a day, the scenery is important.

I’ll spare you the details of a few stops and skip to the end. What’s that you say? You need to know our every movement? Fine. For you, here are the highlights of two otherwise un-noteworthy stays:

Damaraland:

We set up shop at a tiny restcamp, nestled between the rocky red mountains, seemingly in the middle of absolutely nowhere, relaxing at sunset with a few beers. The vastness of this country still continues to amaze us, especially as you think about the folks who run these sporadic camps and make their homes there. The young German man who ran our camp seemed completely at peace serving the handful of guests he had each evening. But I guess with the peace, quiet and views, you pick your complaints.

Swakopmund:

Another all-day drive through, this time, miles of endless, gravel plains brought us to this former German colony on the coast of northwestern Namibia. What makes this sleepy stay worth talking about? The nude photos that adorned every wall, tabletop and ceiling of our temporary digs. Did I mention that the B&B owners were lovely hippie liberals stuck in the 60s? Or that the photos were of these very same owners we shared lengthy conversations about the fall of capitalism with?

Yes. That.

Before returning our mobile home to the rental company, we have one last adventure with her – the Namib Desert. 43 million years old, it is largely considered the oldest desert in the world, and I had been anxiously awaiting our visit due to the incredibly beautiful red sand dunes found in Sossusvlei. This salt and clay pan hosts some of the highest dunes in the world, their red hues a result of the high percentage of iron in the sand (resulting in oxidation). The redder the dune, the older the sand. Not that I cared a lick about any of this when we were planning to visit. It was more like, “Ooooooooh SHINY!”

A quick check-in and scoping of the campsite later we were back in the car en route to catch the infamous sunset “from the dunes.” We were not disappointed. Climbing 80 meters up Dune 45 rewarded us an incredible view of miles of these rust colored dunes, shaded on the sides away from the sun, and glowing golden where the setting sun hit its slopes. Absolutely breathtaking.

We spent an hour sitting at the top watching the sun sink below the last peak, with our feet sunk deep in the cooling sand. What an experience. And to cap off the awesome, we chose a quicker, and way more fun, route back to the car parked at the base – running down the side of the dune. We felt like astronauts, each ankle-deep step seeming to float into the next. (EDITOR’S NOTE: (Cshhh) One small step for man… (Cshhh).)

We headed back to camp to make dinner (working through our stockpile in the final days, so believe this meal was a masterpiece of rice, complete with canned corn and peas) and get a good night’s rest before a full day of exploring further into the dunes – we were like kids on Christmas Eve.

Ones that apparently had been very, very naughty.

1 am rolls around and I’m shaken awake. Not by Dave, or even a ballsy wild animal (yes, these are two separate entities), but by the SAND STORM that has chosen to visit the Namib Desert. I don’t know how else to describe it other than the fact that I asked Dave if he thought the truck would tip over. Gale force winds at their finest. After managing to convince myself that it will blow over (pun intended) by morning, and Dave half-convincing me it’s impossible for the truck to tip over, I fall into a few more hours of fitful sleep. 6 am finds the winds even more mad at us, to the point where it’s difficult to climb out of the tent down the ladder. We’re talking coal in stockings, people. Sand is blowing fiercely in our face, hair and clothes, and remember, we have no shelter except the teeny tiny cab of the truck and tent perched on top. So we take refuge in the cab after playing Wrestle Mania with the roof tent to get it packed up, and head to reception. Told that these storms COULD LAST FOR DAYS, we discussed how badly we wanted to see some of things we had on the itinerary for the day.

An hour later, finding myself trudging headlong into the desert wind toward Dead Vlei with a face scarf accessory (EDITOR’S NOTE: One step below my face hair accessory in effectiveness at blocking wind, sand and other elements including but not limited to world hunger, sickness, the new One Direction movie and… I really miss my beard.), I can say it turns out the answer was “a lot.”

The experience was really cool, minus the natural exfoliant my face was getting. 900-year-old Dead Vlei, or “dead marsh,” is a clay pan that long ago was home to shallow pools, where camel thorn trees thrived. After the climate changed and drought hit, the trees died, but their skeletons remained…apparently refusing to decompose because it’s so dry. Where the pools dried up, a parched mirage-type stretch of cracked sand remains. It’s definitely an eerie place to be. Not sexy enough for you? Did I mention J-Lo filmed scenes of The Cell over 10 years ago here? So it’s legit.

Back at camp, we huddled in the tent and told ourselves that “not everyone gets to witness an African sand storm, so that’s pretty cool,” each pretending to believe it.

The next day, we headed to our final drop off spot 5 ½ hours north. When we hit the Namibian capital of Windhoek, reality came crashing back. The big city, filled with gas stations, fast food restaurants, shopping malls and most jarring, other cars, we were already nostalgic for the long quiet days on the road and peaceful connection to nature we’d so easily become accustomed to.

This particular once-in-a-lifetime experience had come to a close – the very first thing of this whole crazy trip we booked months before we headed out– and it was indeed a grand adventure.