God Is in the Barren Places

Maui's famous road to Hana was everything I thought Hawaii would be: verdant rainforest, waterfalls, vistas of undulating coastline and azure ocean, bright tropical flowers and hidden swimming holes. 

Yes, that was nice. But it was the road that stretched beyond Hana that swept me off my feet. 

Here was the inverse of everything that had come before, a barren and empty land of rocky soil, the occasional windswept tree, and very little evidence of human presence other than the rutted road. There was almost no living thing out there - just gold, grey, brown, and sun-bleached stones. It was like I had eternity all to myself. 

A Perfect Day: Krakow, August 2011

It's been nine months, but I really have to post something about Krakow. In reality, our time in Krakow was split up over three or four days, but in my head, we had one perfect day in Krakow. That perfect day went something like this:

From the train station, our short walk to the old town takes us across the planty for the first time. The planty is a park (yes, the plant-y is a park) that encircles the old town where the city's medieval walls once stood. Shade trees line tidy paths; locals watch passersby from the green benches. There is always something to see in the planty. 

Today it is several hundred young scouts from around Poland, looking homogeneous in their militaristic green and beige uniforms and knee-high socks. It's the 50th anniversary of the country's scouting program, and the President is in town for the occasion. Scout leaders try to corral the kids into scraggly lines while the marching band warms up and the flag bearers smugly congregate in front. I can't help but feel like the towheaded youth are about to storm the castle.

From the planty, it's a quick jaunt through the old town to Market Square, the heart of Krakow. We have timed this perfectly. Only during certain summer months, on certain days, between certain hours can you climb the city watch tower next to St. Mary's Basilica. With even greater temporal precision, we emerge at the top of the tower right before 11 a.m. On the hour, the trumpeter on duty (finishing his 24-hour shift) emerges from his little office and circles the wood-beamed room to play the city's famous hejnał four times - once in each direction.

So there we are on a beautiful summer morning, looking out over Krakow's old town and the bustling Market Square, and right next to us is one of Krakow's (and Poland's) greatest symbols, playing the same short melody that has been played here every hour, every day, for centuries. Awesome.

Berlin is free

I love it when new experiences come free (see, for example, my notes on London). Don't get me wrong, I am more than happy to shell out for awesome museums or tickets to the ballet - but it's like shopping a sale: you love that cashmere sweater all the more when you know you got it for a song.

Berliner Dom

Berlin is like the Filene's Basement of new experiences.

Three Views of Salzburg

I have learned something from all my travels with Jeff: the value of a good city view. Except that while Jeff insists on climbing things (typically church towers), I prefer to take my views with ice cream or a celebratory beverage.

Luckily I was accompanied to Salzburg with a friend similarly inclined to food, drink and leisure.  Thanks to Rick Steves' Germany (yes, Salzburg is in Austria), we spent most of our one day in Salzburg staring out at three remarkable views.

View #1: If you take the train to Salzburg (as we did), you approach the city from the east side of the river. Before crossing over to the heart of the old town, we paused at the rooftop terrace of the Hotel Stein.  Lounging on wicker couches and shaded by giant umbrellas, we worked our way through multiple rounds of champagne and Italian antipasto while gazing out over a postcard of the city.

View #2: Salzburg does not take long to explore (it's not all that big, after all). After some ornate churches, pretty graveyards, and quaint streets in the midday sun, we knew what we really needed: ice cream. Enter Cafe Tomaselli, a classic ice cream parlor fronting one of Salzburg's main pedestrianized plazas. The ice cream itself was nothing to write home about (nor were the prices), but it was served in fabulous old fashioned sundae glasses, and it came with a fabulous balcony view. The ensuing hour was spent in the blessed shade, nursing our sundaes while watching other tourists struggle through the August heat.

View #3: Salzburg is ringed by rugged, forested hills. On other days, I might have insisted on hiking around the Monchsburg ridge to the old fortress. But not this day. This day, we took the municipal elevator up and wandered for about 10 minutes along the ridge until we reached the hostel Die Stadt Alm, where large, roughly hewed picnic tables were arranged right on the edge of a cliff overlooking the city. Heaven is a giant plate of wienerschnitzel, a cold beer, and Salzburg in the golden hour before sunset. Trust me. It's spectacular.