The Sunshine State... A Few Months Late

I meant to post about the bi-annual family trip to Florida a few months ago, but, well, life got in the way.  You know the usual excuses, work stuff, moving, and so forth. So here it finally is, just in time before the new year! Highlights from Florida.

We were down the week tropical storm Emily was due to hit the mainland, but it turned away at just the right time, so we didn't have to make a run for it yet still got our daily afternoon thunderstorm. I was mostly successful in instituting Operation Tan-Not-Burned, which means that as of now (end of December), I am back to my splotchy pasty coloring.

There were big schools of baitfish, which meant.. there were also tons of dolphins!!! One of them was less than 10 feet from us in the ocean and was playing and surfing in the waves.. unnerving when it happens, though still cool.

I got up every day at 6 or 6:30 to see the sunrise; I'd throw on some clothes (though not very many, as it was really warm even without the sun having risen), grab a water bottle, run down 9 flights of stairs, and wander across the beach checking out sea turtle nests. Sounds like a nice routine, but my rising got later and more painful each day. I am just not a morning person, regardless of how awesome the sunrise may be.

We were there during the hayday of baby sea turtle hatching season. I learned what adult and baby turtle tracks look like in the sand and what all those colors and writing mean on the marked sea turtle nests. We also got to watch them dig up the remains of one that had already hatched. There had been dozens and dozens of eggs in it!

And that's that. I haven't done much traveling since I've been back in Tennessee, though I have done a bit of hiking and camping, just minus photos. Hopefully I will make myself get back into the habit of taking pictures and writing, but until then, best wishes for 2012!

Not Just an Eating Disorder

Why are Americans so fat?

This question is frequently pondered and expounded upon by various academics and health professionals, all offering different ideas about the core reasons why over a third of the US population, both adult and adolescent, is obese. Some propose solutions, including banning fast food, requiring restaurants to post calorie counts for their offerings, and even implementing special soda taxes. However, these control freaks forget that looking at obesity solely from the food angle misses out on over half the problem.

Walking into a typical chain grocery store, it doesn't take too much imagination to see where an unhealthy diet could come from: shelves full of prepared foods steeped in unnecessary sodium and MSG, corn syrup, and artificial flavors and sweeteners, all offering themselves as cheap and easy alternatives to things like fresh fruits, veggies, and grains. And let's not even talk about what you can find in the frozen food section (2 words: El Charitos). My guess is that the produce section of most grocery stores, particularly in the South, is visited a little less frequently than the paper and cleaning products aisle. Needless to say, if you show up at the cash register with a bundle of red chard, it may take the cashier a minute to locate the proper code for it since they don't sell it too often.

With that said, I know plenty of people who eat loads of unhealthy prepared food and even straight-up junk food who are actually quite healthy and in great shape. The difference is, they actually get off their butts every now and then to exercise and play. That's the missing piece of the puzzle: it's not just what you put into your body and how much but how you actually consume those calories that determine your body shape.

About a month ago, the results of a national study were released stating that over 80% of Americans don't get enough exercise at work. No kidding? As if we really needed a study to tell us that, though. I mean, how many steps do you take during a day at the office? How many people physically do anything as part of their job? As if total reliance on automobiles and hours and hours per day spent sitting in front of the television weren't enough on their own, we welcome 8 sedentary hours every workday.

So what is it that's making Americans fat? It seems the answer is employment. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not advocating unemployment, but I am suggesting that if you have some free time or happen to be between jobs, there's no reason you shouldn't take the opportunity to get yourself into great shape. Just take a 2-mile walk every day, and by the end of a few weeks, you'll have calves of steel. Unless you stocked up on Lay's and Little Debbie's to keep around as snacks...

Identity Crisis

Talk about culture shock.

For 8 months in Europe, I never needed to drive. I took trains, buses, and coaches across the continent, and I loved not needing a car. Flash to 3 weeks ago, when I arrived back in the US. There is no public transportation in the South, and I've probably averaged driving 50 miles a day getting across the sprawl.

Europe: I could walk into any store, buy a bottle of wine, and walk out without needing an ID or a brown bag to hide it in. After buying said alcohol, I could walk to a park or get on a boat and openly drink with friends, and nobody passing would even bat an eye. US: Alcohol has a pretty bad rep, and drinking when you're under 21? Criminal. Drinking outdoors? Only on very special occasions, where there are plenty of police patrolling to keep the rowdies under control.

Despite priding itself on being freedom-loving, the US has some pretty serious hangups involving things I perceive as "personal freedoms" that Europe doesn't. Whereas Europe is open and free with alcohol, PDA, and body image, Americans have a confused and at times repressed relationship with drinking, sex, and skinny people.

I'm caught between a rock and a hard place. On the one hand, I'm fairly European in my behaviors, consumption patterns, and appearance. On the other hand, Europe doesn't want me. The US may be the only place in the world I'm allowed to call home for the moment; I can't even go live in Canada without some serious visa paperwork! Going through customs in Philadelphia was a bittersweet moment: the man behind the desk welcomed me back to the States, and I couldn't help but feel a little sad, knowing that I'd feel a little out of place but with nowhere else to belong.

Fortunately, it's not nearly so dire as I paint it. There is a sunny side, and that sunny side is Americans. I may not be a fan of American consumerism, the valuing money over all else, a culture of disposability, sexual repression, confused body image, and dependence on cars, but the people are the best I've met anywhere. They're welcoming and kind, friendly and willing to chat with and befriend strangers. I've felt so energized since being back, and it's largely due to the people I've been able to surround myself with for the past few weeks. Southerners are great, and despite the negative points about being back in the US, I'm happy to try to add a drawl to my speech to fit into my new niche.

Never Upgrade

This has been my mantra for technology: once you've gotten it working, don't upgrade it.

I break from this strategy from time to time, and I always regret it. Case in point: a month ago, upgrading Android. For some amount of time (days? weeks? months?!), my Android had been politely informing me that there was a system upgrade available for my downloading, and I always politely informed it, no thanks, maybe some other time (thought what I really meant was never).

At some point, the system upgrades got a little pushy and decided it was high time for me to download OS version Gingerbread, so they started to pop up little message boxes every time I turned the screen back on. I could tolerate the boxes for the first few days, but it really started to get to me when I had to close the pop-up message every time I wanted to take a photo.

So I gave in. I downloaded the upgrade. And I regret it every time I use the phone.

First off, the battery life is now non-existent. No new programs appear to be running in the background, but possibly the new crappy icons and "whoosh" effect when the screen turns on and off has a hand in it, especially since the whooshing happens a lot when I have the wi-fi turned on but with the phone itself idle.


Secondly, I had a major problem with my free calling setup, the cause of which is unclear to me. I wanted to initially blame the problem on the upgrade, but I think the problem may actually have been with PBXes. So for any of you still sporting a SipDroid + Google Voice setup on your Android, if you start getting any SipDroid timeouts or 401 authorization errors, two things to try that will hopefully fix your problem:
1) Make sure your SipDroid password matches the password of your PBXes extension. (Not sure how mine became different, but at one point they did.. perhaps by magic!)
2) In PBXes, go to Personal Data, then restart it.

Sigh... shoulda just tried to get rid of the annoying pop-up boxes with the old OS version.

Graffiti Walk

Something I've noticed about Europe is that graffiti enjoys a very different status within the culture than it does in the US. Whereas in the US, graffiti is generally something frowned upon, to be cleaned off an afflicted building immediately, and generally located in less-than-savory areas of town or signaling the presence of crime, European graffiti seems to be a point of pride. It doesn't get painted over quickly (if ever), and it can be found in abundance in any location. There are even some spots specially reserved for artists to come practice their spraying art.

As expected, many sprayers are angsty teenage boys searching for an outlet, some advertising anarchy or other political messages, but sometimes the art is cute, sweet, or even poetic. Here's a collection of some of my favorite, most noteworthy small graffiti works I've seen over the past few months. (My favorite one, due to its striking contrast, was mentioned in an earlier post.)

Oerlikon Nord train station

Choose Your Leader

Not graffiti, but nonetheless interesting building; I like to think it's home to anarchist squatters

"She's My Baby" in Verona. See if you can spot it!

Zurich tram

Stuttgart artist, photographing his work

"The rock of truth and the water of righteousness form life for eternity." outside Zurich

Though I don't have a picture of it, one of the most inspirational graffiti works that I often think back on is painted on a sidewalk on Euclid Avenue in Berkeley. It's a simple, blue, stenciled-looking work with a picture of a small tree branch with leaves on it and the message "breathe, you are alive."

Mild Anarchy

I paid a quick visit to Strasbourg, France, and I have to admit, I was more pleased with France than I was expecting to be. The Petite France area was quaint, the Notre Dame impressive, the Rhine calm, and the trams comfortable, but it was the food and atmosphere that impressed me the most. We all hear about French cuisine being so great, but I figured it was just European snobbery; after all, food in Italy was good, but not all of it was fabulous, and same goes for most other places in Europe I've eaten. But every meal I had in Strasbourg was really good and well-prepared.

On top of that, there's a feeling of light anarchy, layered on top of shallowly-hidden hot tempers attitudes. I feel this disregard for organized rules is best exhibited at crosswalks. Pedestrians pretty much walk when they feel like it, though they generally do it when there's only a little traffic coming; with this attitude, I almost got myself run over back in Switzerland. I suspect the anarchy would be dialed up a notch in other parts of France that aren't tempered by Germans as the Alsace region is.

The Strasbourgeois seem to stay up very late, with streets not emptying until well past midnight, and in the dark of night, there were large numbers of people hanging out in the Orangerie park, chatting, making guitar and bongo music, and generally loving life. (Despite the reputations of France and Italy, however, I still think Switzerland seems to sport the most PDA of anywhere I've been in Europe.)

Lord help me, but I kind of want to move to France now.

"The Other Place" and "The Other Other Place"

My UK tour finished up with visits to Cambridge and Oxford, back-to-back. In Cambridge, I got to go punting for the first time, and the weather was lovely the whole trip, if a bit too windy.

Oxford was also quite nice, and a lot of the students had examinations that day, which meant they were running around in their navy uniforms with little pink carnations pinned to their blazers.

Neither is a school of slouches, with both places having lots of famous names associated with them: for starters, Cambridge has Isaac Newton and Charles Darwin; Oxford, Lewis Carroll and JRR Tolkien. Both have lots of character created by the lovely old stone architecture, spared from the bombings the rest of England experienced during WWII. The main differences I perceive in the two towns is that the colleges in Cambridge play a greater role in shaping the image of the town (or is it city? I get confused about the European standards); Oxford's colleges tend to be a bit more hidden, and Oxford itself has wider streets that seem a little more car-friendly.

I always figured myself for an Oxford type, based on the fact that I have friends associated with Oxford, but I have to admit, I think that when it comes down to it, I'm more of a Cambridge fan.

Nemo Me Impune Lacessit

I just got back from an excellent 2-week trek across the UK, and I thought I'd share my thoughts about the cities I visited in a fairly organized manner. For each city I visited, I will list the best and worst things about it. Coincidentally, I've also started watching some British trash television, including a show called "Snog, Marry, Avoid," and I will be assigning one of these three judgments to each city I present. (Snog = kiss/make-out, for you non-Brits.)

First off, Scotland, and more specifically, Edinburgh!

Let there be no mistake: I love Edinburgh. I think it's my new favorite city. I had consistently seen this seat of Scottish Parliament as the Top City to Visit by many people's standards, but I just had no idea. Originally, I wasn't even planning on staying a full day there, so I'm quite happy I ended up making it a slightly longer stay! As it was, I could have stayed for a week and not been tired of looking around.

Best about Edinburgh: Where to begin... it's clean, the architecture is absolutely beautiful, the skyline when you walk to the city centre from the bus station is just stunning, the weather was a nice sunny/cloudy/sprinkling mix, stores are open on Sundays (!), the museums and Parliament are mostly all free to visit, the Leith River walkway is a lovely 12-mile stretch of walking path, the Caledonian Backpackers Hostel was fantastic, and THE CASTLE (enough said).

Worst about Edinburgh: That I can't just up and move there (thanks for nothing, EU).. also, you won't find too many unintelligble Scottish accents here.

Snog, marry, avoid? Marry, baby; this city is awesome!


Next up, Aberdeen.

Bleh, the City of Granite is not high on my list of places to re-visit, despite its having a nice Robert the Bruce statue.

Best about Aberdeen: seeing a pod of dolphins swim by at the beach on the North Sea, the cool Kordova Klub pub near the train station, proximity to Edinburgh (only 3 hours by coach)

Worst about Aberdeen: that everything's made of this gray, institutional-looking granite; every museum in the city is closed on Mondays (when I was there)

Snog, marry, avoid? I'd avoid Aberdeen. Sorry, this place was just gray and not much fun.


Final stop in Scotland: Inverness.

Inverness is a pretty nice little place. It was chilly and super-windy, but fortunately, I was prepared for a little northern weather in the Capital of the Highlands.

Best about Inverness: ceilidh bars with traditional music, cool travelers in the Student Hotel, nice bridges over the River Ness, Loch Ness, Culloden Battlefield, walking from the Battlefield to Clava Cairns and Milton of Clava, the castle near the city centre, lots of good restaurants, tons of whiskey distilleries (including the small Bendromach distillery; the Malt Whiskey Trail goes through the area), thick Scottish accents, rainbows everywhere (I saw on average one a day)!

Worst about Inverness: needing to take a bus/train to get to a lot of the good cultural stuff, though it wasn't too complicated or expensive, and the view was nice; the damp chill and high winds that kept me somewhat chilled the whole time, especially when I didn't dry my hair after showering one morning

Snog, marry, avoid? Snog and maybe marry. Inverness seems pretty nice, though I don't know what it would be like to live there. I'd probably spend more time in the Highlands than in Inverness, quite frankly.


As for the title of this post, "No one attacks me with impunity" is the motto of Scotland, and it's written in many places: over the doorway of the Edinburgh castle, on coats of arms, and even in one of the holy chapels in Edinburgh! Fun fact.

Stop and Stare

No sooner had I stepped through Customs in the Zurich airport when I felt the renewed presence of the Staring. Having been in the UK for 2 weeks, I had mostly flown under the radar in crowds, never feeling like I was being scrutinized and examined by strangers. But once back in my Swiss train station, I could feel the eyes following me. Granted, at the time I looked like I was traveling in from Scandinavia, comparing my backpack, jeans, and two jacket layers to the Daisy Dukes and spaghetti strap camisole a nearby girl eating an ice cream cone was wearing. However, I quickly adjusted my wardrobe to the weather here (which feels simply tropical compared to Inverness, Scotland), and the staring continues days later.

Contrary to some belief, it's not just young guys staring. In fact, in terms of gender, staring seems to be an equal-opportunity profession. Sometimes it's older people, no doubt checking out the younger generation and shaking their head sadly as they think back fondly on the Good Ol' Days of their youth; if they hear me speak English and they're particularly right-wing, maybe they even harbor some ill-will towards me and all the other foreigners who've flocked to Switzerland in recent years. Sometimes those staring are young, and the most off-putting things is that I'm not quite sure why they're staring. When I feel the heat of so many eyes on me, I don't know if it's good attention or bad attention, so I go through a quick checklist: do I have on pants? A shirt? .. Yes on both counts? Well, that's pretty much the whole checklist, so I remain stumped.

Other English and American expats in Switzerland have noted this baffling phenomenon as well and offered different theories about it, but I guess regardless of the reasons behind being stared at, good or bad, we should just enjoy the attention... and maybe practice making faces at people and freaking out the Starers.

In the Shadow of the Matterhorn

Words can't really do justice to the Matterhorn. It's simply striking and even somewhat creepy at night when its dark outline is still visible against the twilight sky. Pictures can't fully do it justice either, but that doesn't mean I didn't try by taking about 50 pictures of the Matterhorn in its different phases of cloud cover.

Zermatt is mostly closed between the winter and summer seasons; it's very bizarre seeing a town full of grand 5 star hotels and restaurants that are simply closed down for the next 2 months. Unfortunately, it's still very snowy on the mountain peaks, so the hiking trails to the Schwarzsee and Hoernli Hut (base station where the mountaineers start their climb) were closed off, which was quite disappointing. On the other hand, it was great not to have the town and paths swarming with tourists, so I guess it was a fair tradeoff.

There's a graveyard outside the main church dedicated to those who have died on the surrounding mountains. Most of them were male and between the ages of 17 and 27 (surprise, surprise). Of course, maybe they made the initial mistake of trying Gusti's Viper poison in the village of Zmutt.

Also, only in Switzerland will you be on a tough uphill Wanderweg hiking path and suddenly run into a mom pushing a stroller with 2 kids alongside her.

Tour de Southern Deutschland (Minus the Bike)

I've been stressing myself out for the past week over my job hunt and my upcoming trip to England that I just planned last night (and leave for this evening). So this post is going to be a slightly lazier one, pictures of a few highlights with a little description.

Southern Germany is awesome. Fuessen is the best little hidden gem Bavaria has to offer, holding both the Forggensee (which dries up to a stream in winter time, that you can throw bicycles into if that's your thing) and Castle Neuschwanstein. The LA Hostel is pretty cool too, with lots of interesting and eccentric travelers, and the train ride from Fuessen to Munich is gorgeous.

Also in Bavaria is the Koenigssee, the Dear Leader's favorite vacation-ing area, not without good reason. It boasts the "most drinkable" water in Germany (though I wouldn't drink it.. there are tons of boats and stuff that go through all the time) and the (debateably) highest waterfall in Germany, the Roethbach.

When it's nice out, crazy people surf in the Munich English Garden. It's great to see the good ones and even better to see the wipe-outs.

Stuttgart has a great zoo, complete with a Peacock Guard patrol; the birds work together and protect each other from annoying little kids that chase them.

It also seems to have its own Angry Bird, starved for attention and biting its cage, possibly wanting to bite me even though I'm pretty sure I didn't do anything to offend it.

Then I almost bricked my phone, so I don't have any pictures of Tuebingen's castle. The phone is okay now, but alas, I have no pictures of the great view of Tuebingen and the Albs (not the Alps).

Brescia: A Lackluster Finale

After being dragged away from Venice, the final stop on the tour was Brescia. Brescia on the whole is a normal Italian city, which means it kind of sucks for tourists yet somehow still managed to have some aggressive flower- and badly-copied-CD-salesmen. To its benefit, it does have a grand castle on the hill where you can easily spend a few hours wandering, enjoying the views, or lazing about on the grass. And its Santa Maria delle Grazie with its accompanying sanctuary and courtyard easily beats the pants off the more hyped Duomo.

Overall, Italy had good food, nice weather, non-sucky trains, and non-disgusting cities. It far surpassed my expectations, and I completely understand the expats who lasso themselves old, wonderful houses and vineyards there. Hopefully sometime I'll get to make it to Rome!

Venice: Where the Streets (Sometimes) Have No Name

Proxima fermata on my Italy trip was Venice. What can I say, except that I love Venice. I don't love all the little salesmen trying to hawk roses, fake Gucci bags, or light-up flying helicopter things, but I do love the absence of cars, the crazy winding streets, and the old stone buildings.

Contrary to popular belief, Venice doesn't really smell. Sure, there were a few spots where the scent of sewer managed to waft its way out of the ground, but on the whole Venice just smelled like a city (although it might have helped that I was there in spring and not summer and also that there hadn't been any recent garbage worker strikes).

Venice has its own tower, which I didn't pay to go up in, the royal Palazzo Ducale, and the Basilica of San Marco, which is absolutely incredible, covered in gold paint and tile mosaics. (Oh, and also free. Take a lesson, Verona.)

I wouldn't have minded too much getting lost in the streets of Venice and never making it to the train station. After all, there's no being-emo allowed in the Piazza San Marco, and anywhere with that as a rule can't be too bad.

... Where We Lay Our Scene

The rumors are true: trains traveling between Switzerland and Italy really do break down the second they reach the Italian border. Possible scenario for the commuter returning to Switzerland after a week's trip in Italy: your replacement Italian train will show up 20 minutes late, covered in graffiti, and with no working air conditioning. Since Switzerland is so keen on keeping its trains running according to a tight schedule, that super-late train you're on might be required elsewhere, so instead of taking you to your promised final destination, you get dumped off at Arth-Goldau and are expected to wind your way back to Zurich via Zug (the place) and Zug (train). Actual experiences may differ.

Speaking of "differing," never trust Kayak to show you an accurate depiction of the location of a hotel you're booking. I accidentally ended up staying in a 4-star hotel about 10 kilometers southwest of Verona in a little town called Azzano, which incidentally has a pizzeria with the best 4-cheese pizza I've ever tasted as well as some mafia-looking houses surrounded by razor wire. Getting from Azzano to Verona and vice versa was easily accomplished with the Verona area bus system, but the only catch is that the stop names are neither announced nor shown on the electronic signboards (which are forever plastered with the message "Buon viaggio"), so you have to do a little homework beforehand to know when you should expect your stop. (You can ask the busdriver, but he might drop you off about a mile away from where you actually wanted to go.)

I was a little worried that Verona would end up being pretty lame, but I really enjoyed it. Verona has a nice mix of tourists and locals. As it's home to the renowned Shakespeare play, most of the school children and tourists swarmed over to the Casa di Giulietta, but it was easy enough to avoid that location. The Torre dei Lamberti belltower provides a great view over the city and has the added bonus that you can go deaf on either of two different platforms within it when the clocks strikes noon! Neary by the Torre is the Piazza delle Erbe, which is a nice place to stroll through when it's not overcrowded for lunch.

Across the river is the Teatro Romano, perched on the hillside, which also provides a nice view over the city and houses the old theatre ruins and sculptures. The only real disappointment in Verona was that all the churches charge money for admission. Having seen lots of awe-inspiring cathedrals in Bavaria and Austria for free, I couldn't find it in my heart to cough up money to go into the Sant'Anastasia or the Duomo. Plus, there were plenty of interesting sights to see outside, like this artsy lump of locks on a bridge.