santorini

i imagined myself amongst the cast of the sisterhood of the traveling pants many a time during our visit to santorini. (the rory gilmore story when she goes to greece. obv) the backdrop of this small island appeared painted at every turn. the bright blue water we'd become accustomed to in crete also surrounded us here, as well as sheer cliffs tipped with domed white buildings that created the perfect setting for every photograph.

we stayed in an area of the island called karterados.  there was not much in our area outside of the breathtaking view, a few superb beach side restaurants, and our own lovely hostel, artemis village (where there was no shortage of free iced coffees and poolside sunbathers). the town of fira was only a few minutes away on a bike, and since we became quite skilled in crete, once again we rented a scooter.

unlike in crete, this scooter -while yellow and cool looking- was quite terrifying. it was small and shaky and struggled on every hill and corner. but he was a trooper and took us safely to all our destinations. fira was quite lovely with its winding streets, hidden markets and shops, and tasty but cheap gyros!

we took a ferry out of fira to visit volcano island. the hike to the top of the volcano was overwhelming and boiling hot, but climbing amongst the black rock was neat, and the view unbelievable. we also went swimming in the volcanic hot springs, which was one of my very favorite things we did on the islands. at first the sulfur in the air was overwhelming, but soon the natural heat of the water and natural exfoliation of the mud we wiped all over our bodies overtook my fear of suffocation.

our visit to greece was straight out of a bright romantic teen movie. we didn't meet any local men to fall in love with while we shared lucky pants that magically fit both of us, but other than that it was perfect.

lovefromkt

here are the links to our facebook pictures in greece if you haven't seen them!

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10102262384475310.3477724.13930058&type=3&l=e831558852


http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10102267220453970.3478643.13930058&type=3&l=b52a02ad79


http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10102267536834940.3478703.13910842&type=3&l=7903c66988

My Kingdom for a Gyro

I know everyone is all in an uproar over our (im)pending nuptials but I'm ready to provide the answer to what everyone is wondering.....What does Chris think about eating in Greece?

Our exploits in Greece are very similar to Harold and Kumar go to White Castle except the object of our affection was a gyro rather than a diarrhea inducing slider. Also, we're both extremely Caucasian. I love gyros so needless to say I was excited to get one where they originated. We started our search in Crete, but came up empty. The first establishment didnt seem to have them on the menu so we, thinking there must be some mistake, asked the proprietor for gyros. He explained that he didnt have any but said he would bring something relatively close. For those of you that dont know, a gyro is meat (usually beef/lamb) wrapped in a pita with veggies and tzatziki sauce. The man brought us two pieces of fatty steak. Mission failed.

From then on our search grew worse, with most people not even recognizing the word gyro. Maybe it was my fault since I pronounce it YUR-ROWS, which sounds identical to their monetary system the euro. Although maybe I could have phrased it better than GIVE ME ALL YOUR GYROS. It took us seven days before we got an authentic gyro, and in the end it was only okay. 

Meat on a stick and fat beers are staples in Greece. Hard to argue with that

In general, before you go to a Greek restaurant, you should make sure you have nothing going on in the next three hours, because if you do, you do not have time to eat. Tipping is 10% in Greece if anything so the waiters tend to not pay any attention to you. So you're not going to get refills, you're not going to get any more bread, and you better order all your beer up front because he is not coming back. Once you get your food you basically need to trick your server to come back to your with the bill. I tried the head nod and what I thought to be the universal two finger raise but nothing worked. At one restaurant, I waved at our server to get his attention and he looked up at me, smiled broadly, waved vigorously back at me, and then disappeared for twenty minutes.

It is deemed rude to try to rush out of a Greek restaurant on your own schedule. When we tried to leave our first restaurant in Greece, the waiter panicked and said something that sounded like, "One minute! One minute! Watermelon!" Now I, of course, thought this was just my American ignorance and clearly that was not what the man said, but then he quickly came back with a heaping plate of fruit. Yes, once your meal is done it is customary for the restaurant to serve you some sort of melon. And only after you make a sizable dent in said fruit will they bring you the bill. Again, you need a solid two hours. At least.

Another note. In Greece, women are as invisible to servers as my facial hair. Katie was rarely addressed by waiters especially when the bill came. Even if she asked for the bill, it was given to me. At one of the our last restaurants in Santorini she handed the waiter our bill with her money and when he came back with the change he made it a point to hand it to me.  Katie was less than amused. Although it's a pretty sweet deal if you ask me.

Mythos should be your beer of choice while you are in Greece. 

Mainly because the label has a unicorn on it. A fucking unicorn. Check and mate

the day we got engaged

7.20.12  karteros, crete

our hotel was 100m away from the bluest sea and softest sand imaginable. the day was hot and the wind wasn't cool enough for comfort, so we headed to the water to soothe sunburned skin. the tide was strong and the waves were tall and we laughed as they knocked us around and we failed to keep our hands grasped.

we could see them coming: three enormous waves were building before us. we locked hands and eyes and i braced myself for the inevitable battle to keep the salt water out of my nose. he looks at me, and in that brief calm shouts "marry me!"

before i can think or smile or breathe my face is slammed by an enormous wave and i'm flipped upside down in the cretan sea, literally swept off my feet. when i'm finally able to find the air i am completely disoriented, and i reply with a heartily romantic, "whaaaat?!"

"will you marry me?"

wave number two hits and i am flying face first into the sand once again. but this time before i am able to wipe the salt water from my eyes, or even open them to find him, i shout back.

YES!

that third wave devoured our first kiss as fiance and fiance. worth it, salt water and all.

Pictures Pictures Pictures

For those of you not on Facebook, we've been lagging a bit on picture posting. I've been trying to post all the pics to Shutterfly but its being difficult so here are all of our albums so far. They are linked through Facebook but you can view them if you're not a member

Amsterdam 1

Amsterdam 2

Paris

Barcelona 1
Barcelona 2

Greece will be coming soon

one time in crete

I have been waiting to visit the island of crete since junior high, and am ecstatic to finally be here. Some ten years ago, my dearest sister Beth traveled to Crete. She studied, drank, cut her own hair, and upon her return, began every story with "one time in crete..." Thus my interest was sparked and our visit was planned.

We stayed at an enchanting little hotel called Minos Bay. Our first day we arrived at 4:00am, and there was a note taped to the door:

Minos Bay is family owned, as are many other businesses in the area. We were treated like regulars at Olga's, a small snack bar where only the middle school aged daughter spoke English. Grandparents, parents, and this charming young girl kept bringing us snacks and drinks all night long while pointing to themselves and saying "from me". We tried several fun Grecian appetizers and very potent drinks, and expected to pay for them at the end of the night, but the family only charged us for the two simple entrees we ordered. The snack bar was right down the street from our hotel, and they waved to us from then on whenever we walked by!

We rented a scooter for two days, and traveled the badass way around the island. One of us was slightly more confident, and one of us drove straight into the small rail separating us from a large cliff. I will leave it to the imagination which one is which. But when we were in our preferred spots, one as driver and one as relaxed passenger, we had a lot of fun riding around. It was a pleasant change from the smoltering heat and glacial pace of our daily walks, and provided some mind blowing views of impossibly blue water and sky.

We scootered out to Knossos, the ruins of the Palace of King Minos. It was cool to explore the rubble that was once grandeur, to see how much has survived. There were even some archeologists dusting away at what will undoubtedly be more neat rocks.

We also scooted our way into the heart of Herkalion, the big city on the island, which made for much trickier moves on the bike. Chris' prowess as a video gamer allowed swervy moves to come easily to him, so he took over city driving. We visited a delightful market full of colorful art, local jewelry and oddly large knives.  But the distance from the sea was too far in the city, and once our sweat started hindering our vision we headed back to the strong winds and waves at our hotel.

tomorrow is our last day in crete before we ferry to santorini. there is a night beach party on our little stretch of paradise we plan to hit up. here's hoping there will be lanterns a la tangled for us to release into the stars!

lovefromkt

Barcelona

Handsome devils

Disclaimer: The following post contains some harsh language. Mom, I apologize, but Barbara Walters and I live by a certain code and we cannot censor the truth. 

There are many things that Katie and I have in common. We both have a deep love for pizza rolls, an appreciation of day drinking and public urination, and, of course, god given good looks, but unfortunately our idea of travel living conditions is not among them. She is perfectly happy with paying 20 euros to share a room with 12 other people with no sense of courtesy or bathing habits, while I would rather spring for a private bedroom where I am free to nakedly clip my toenails in peace. NOTE: Apparently this is still not allowed. 

That is why Barcelona has been so good to us. We shelled out a little extra cash and have spent the last three nights in a 5 star hotel. In hindsight, it wasn't the greatest idea as it's hard to get yourself to leave the hotel room when you're living like a king (every room comes with its own jester). As Katie put it, "I don't remember what my life was like before there was a foot fountain across from my toilet." I'll have to install some sort of bucket at home in our bathroom, or maybe just hire Colin to hang out in there and wash my feet. I imagine he's still unemployed. 

On the few times we were able to pry ourselves away from our palace, we found that Barcelona is a gorgeous city with classic architecture mixed in with modern day buildings. After a confusing experience with the Barcelona metro system, we decided to walk to our destinations yesterday and ended up trekking over 10 miles by the end of the night. Luckily we have that foot fountain. I think the most fascinating thing we've seen here so far is La Sagrada Familia. For those of you that don't know, it's a church that has been under construction for over 130 years. That's insane. So when we went to check it out, there were dozens of cranes and loads of scaffolding surrounding it. I'm not sure what will get finished first, La Sagrada Familia or the 3D puzzle of the Notre Dame I started in 7th grade that I angrily slapped off the table. My money is on neither.

It should also be mentioned that the first time we tried to find Sagrada Familia we didn't really look up "where it was" or "how to get there", and after an hour of searching we stopped for lunch. Goose decided that the best thing to do to welcome us to Spain was to get their special for the day: a liter of Sangria for 9 euros. I balked at this as it seemed like too much, but since we're both stupid Americans who know nothing of the metric system, and whose only experience with liters is "well it's half a two liter bottle so it can't be that much" we naturally purchased it. And naturally it was way too much and we had to head back to the hotel at 2pm due to being as my family puts it: overserved.

Challenge Accepted

Speaking of which, last night we went to Dow Jones an English bar with a Wall Street theme, so much so that the prices of drinks change based on how often they get purchased. So, for example, after Goose ordered a Gummy Bear shot the price went up by .25, while Amstel continued to drop as no one was purchasing it. There was a Dodger game on the TVs and half a Statue of Liberty....statue in the corner. Cue me on my knees in front of it yelling: "Maniacs! You blew it up! Damn you! Goddamn you all to hell!" The bar was mostly full of Americans and Brits that spent most of their time demanding blow job shots and sucking each others faces. Our potential hostel roommates no doubt. 

For today we're hanging in the hotel drinking some wine juice boxes and eating Pringooooals that Goose found at the co-op and then going out for some music and dancing tonight. Tomorrow is the Museo de Historia Barcelona and BEACH DAY before we whisk off on a night flight to Crete for three days, presumably for more beach days and drinking too much sangria.

CM

I can never eat normal Pringles again

paris

After one remarkably brutal and heroic mugging, the gods of travel graced us with one more day in Paris! In case you missed goose's gripping story, he was pickpocketed* on a metro on our way to the train station, and we were no longer able to leave the country that night. But we did find a lovely hotel with a romantic moonlit terrace that housed us for one last day in the city of love.

Paris did not welcome us with open arms, and on our first day here we wanted to go back to Amsterdam. The traffic was aggressive and the horns too loud. Passersby were rude and pushy, a constant reminder that the world is not "minnesota nice".  The hills were steep and not, as we'd hoped, alive with the sound of music. Instead they were full of vendors pushing mini Eiffel towers into our arms and lined with I heart Paris t-shirts, an aggressive tourism we did not see much of in Amsterdam. Scammers and thieves were on every corner, asking for your signature while they dip into your pockets or tying a string around your finger and then charging to cut it off. But a few mixed days of sunshine and rain in the heart of this city and we came to see it in a new way.

We were helped by strangers on the metro (a metro which Chris mastered immediately, btw, if anyone needs a future guide in France), and became very comfortable in our new neighborhood. We stayed in an excellent hostel, the Peace and Love, that boasted the cheapest beer in town in its bar lobby, and met wonderful travelers from Australia, Canada, Brazil, France, Germany and NYC. We adored the 7th floor windows of our private room that overlooked an excellent view of Parisian life, even though the lack of elevator made us vow each trip never to leave the room again.

We wandered the river Seine, past street artists and kissing couples. We snapped photos of strangers in front of famous sights, and they jovially did the same for us. We took a walking tour from the Latin Quarter to the Eiffel Tower that gave us an appreciation of the past and the present. And we used our last and extra day picknicking with baguettes and wine at the base of the Eiffel Tower (yes, our lives have been plucked from a romantic comedy).

So thank you, thief on the metro*, for giving us one more day and a new love for Parisian life. This happy accident even allowed us a drawing room together on the midnight train to Spain. Thus the bonus of having no plans, nothing to arrive on time for, no one to impress: We can't make any mistakes!
 Thanks for all the well wishes as we head into the Barcelona unknown.
Many missings,
lovefromkt

*side bar: Chris was not pickpocketed. We found his (my) ticket in his pack the next day. But the original story is far more interesting and heroic, so feel free to retain that one.
Note from Chris: I maintain that I was indeed pickpocketed but the criminal decided he had no need to go to Barcelona so he slipped the ticket into a different compartment of my bag. Crafty Parisian thieves

Disaster Strikes!

We were SUPPOSED to get on the train to Barcelona tonight but I was pickpocketed on a very crowded Metro. I had my ticket in my pocket with TWO buttons on it and when I got to the train station that pocket only had ONE button buttoned and the ticket was gone. Our first mugging wasnt as glamorous as we had hoped. I didnt even get the chance to do a quick one liner like "Thats not a knife, this is a knife". Apparently Ive been carrying this machete around for no reason, but in my defense you can't not buy a machete when you see them at home depot for $5. We tried to buy another ticket before the train left but the line took too long. Funny enough, I actually lost Katie's pass, not mine. Once i pointed this out, i was the only one who thought it was funny. So I still had my ticket and I offered to meet her in Barcelona if it would be more convenient. She declined.

Also, our new umbrella broke immediately

This isnt just a tale of woe, my friends. Some good things blossomed out of this carwreck. While waiting in line, a boy from Baltimore asked us how long we had been waiting as he too had to catch the train leaving in twenty minutes. We told Baltimore it was hopeless as we were moving slower than Qwest's internet. BOOM! International burn. He said that he was just going to hop on and try to avoid the conductor, which is possibly the coolest thing I could imagine. Katie pointed out that we wouldn't go if we had only one ticket so we gave Baltimore my ticket and said, "Godspeed, my friend." Seriously. It pretty much made up for my missed Paul Hogan opportunity.

Now we are lounging in a hotel room in Paris with a terrace, drinking wine and eating foreign chips (which have nothing on American chips. USA! USA! USA!). Tomorrow we're going to the top of the Arc de Triomphe, picnicking in front of the Eiffel Tower and breaking into the Louvre (if time permits).

On an unrelated note, we drank with a bunch of single serving friends last night and during a game of Dare Jenga I had to kiss the male French bartender. Twice. I'm leaving my mark on this city. One charming long faced bartender at a time.

Exhibit A

CM

Amsterdam and Hostile Hostels

Note: This feels like entrapment

Arriving in Amsterdam was a shock to the system as we got in at 1pm local time but our brains still thought it was 6 in the morning. This wouldn't have been a big deal if I had slept on the plane but naturally my time in the air was devoted to watching as many airplane movies as possible, all of which I had already seen but I just couldn't justify watching Legends of the Guardians: Owls of Ga'hoole. Our sleep cycle would never be repaired as staying in a youth hostel is like sleeping with a baby. As soon as you fall asleep some sound jolts you awake and it's often followed by vomiting.

Our roommates were mostly American with the exception of two mystery travelers who talked very little but had great mustaches so I gave them a pass and a boy named Rory from England. Katie kept slowly slipping into his accent when we talked to him. I see this being a major problem in England. The rest were Georgia Tech girls who were studying in Oxford and came to Amsterdam for the weekend to go out clubbing and get high. As they put it: "Lets get some weed brownies and go to Anne Frank." Lovely girls. They also told us that we sounded like "we were from the North". Now I may be incorrect but I'm pretty sure the only people who still call it "the north" are Confederate Generals and I'll be damned if I share a bunk with slavery sympathizers.

We spent most of our time wandering the streets of Amsterdam checking out shops and  markets and eating way too many Doner Kebabs, which are similar to a gyro but they are jammed into a bun instead of pita bread. We rarely had to use a map, thanks to my natural direction skills. I'm kidding of course. It turns out that i rarely know where I am and if it wasn't for Goose I would have fallen into a canal.

Every street has at least 5 lanes of traffic: two for cars, two for bikes, and one for crisscrossing trams, but navigating them was never difficult.  We were out walking for at least five hours every day so naturally we plan on being super buff (buffER in my case) when we get back. On the subject, Amsterdammers are quite fit. There are very few overweight people here. We never saw any homeless people and over four days we saw only three emergency vehicles with their lights on. Apparently they're doing something right here. My guess is on all the roaming dogs without leashes. Also all the prostitutes.


CM

amsterdam

Out of all the cities in the world, Amsterdam is definitely on my "yeah, I would live here" list. It is an old city with more than its share of history and beauty. Public transportation is highly efficient and easy to understand, but that doesn't matter much because everyone bikes. We've seen all sorts taking to the bike lanes this week, from children to oldsters, to couples holding hands under an umbrella, to texting locals. There are no horns, no road rage. It is a calming lifestyle. Plus the wine is cheap and delicious, and the parks to drink it in are numerous and gorgeous.

Chris and I are currently lounging in our newest hotel, the hotel de filosoof, just outside of the old center of Amsterdam. We are happy to have our own bedroom and bathroom, and are very excited to not have to pretend to be young and hip. Going to bed early can be cool, too.  We have spent 4 days in this beautiful city and have walked it all. There was the exception when we took a paddleboat out on the canals. This was a sweaty, and somewhat fight provoking way to see Amsterdam, but some tunes, sunscreen and "cool american" doritos helped that trip become one of my favorite memories.

Chris will share in more detail the things we've seen and done.  But for now I will say that I love this city. I love the canals between streets. I love the architecture, old and new, crooked and straight. I love the quirky attitude and the tolerant style of the coffee shops and the red light district. I love the kind strangers on the street. I am happy in Amsterdam. Yeah, I would live here.

many missings to our midwesterners,
lovefromkt

Final Preparations

We leave for Amsterdam in five hours. Bags are finally packed with two last minute entries: my Captain America costume and a bottle of hot sauce. (both for use in emergencies)


CM