good to be king

 

All the laundry from our road trip is finally clean after being home for six days! Yay! Whether it's all put away or not is another story. 

Now, I have some time to tell you a few more things we did on our trip. Like, this palace, for instance.



It is one of three built by King Ludwig II. A king who had enough funds to build a fake cave in its gardens. I was so freaked out by it, that I didn't even take a picture. Trust me. It was strange.

I did take a picture of this neat Moroccan House that was originally built in Morocco and taken to Germany by the king.

 

Graham likes to play prince and princess these days, so we wandered the gardens in the rain and imagined being royal and rich and living a life of luxury. It was a nice feeling.
 



It got me to pondering about what I'd do if I were a king and had enough funds and power to build palaces all over Germany. I couldn't decide exactly what I'd do other than feed the world's children and buy a farm or something, but I do know what I wouldn't do. I absolutely would NOT build a generic cave in my backyard. Not ever. Complete waste of time and money. Geeze.

porsche

 


Dear Grandpa,

Last week while we were in Stuttgart, we went to the Porsche museum.

 

I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry I drug you through all the art museums and churches while you were visiting me last Fall. I should have just driven you to this museum in Germany. You would have loved it.

 

I couldn't stop thinking about you the entire time we were there.



Please forgive me.

Love,
your "Katie Beautiful"

missing the Pullman

We're back in Naples...

I miss the Pullman.

What is the Pullman?
 

Well, I'm glad you asked.

It is the hotel where we stayed last week in Stuttgart, Germany while Tony worked.
 



With a playground and an organic supermarket right across the street, air-conditioned rooms with comfy pillows, fresh towels and chocolate that magically appeared every day,  a flat screen television for watching the Olympics,  and a swimming pool and fitness center downstairs complete with fresh lemon water and green apples, it was pure luxury for this mamma who usually stays in cheap (but charming) apartments or hotels when traveling and is now baking in her hot home on a bumpy road that is a 20 minute drive from the nearest playground or pool and Lord knows how far from an organic market, with crunchy towels that I have to hang out to dry myself and certainly no magically-appearing chocolate, no television hookup and an incredibly inefficient AC system...

Strangely, though. I've grown to love our Italian villa and the life we have made in it. If someone asked me if I wanted trade it in for the Pullman, my answer would be no. Okay, that's not true. My answer would be sometimes. Sometimes I wish I could trade it all in for some luxury.

Honesty is a virtue.

Now, could somebody please magically transport me back to Germany? I have some really important relaxation to do.

blog on Prague

The city of Prague was more fun than a bump on a log, but its outskirts (where we stayed) was not a place I liked to jog, because of the hills.
 
 

There was no smog, but you might get lost amongst the fog of tourists.
 

The delicious food was better than the COG's and the yummy beer was difficult not to hog, because it was so smooth.


 

The Infant Jesus of Prague was cuter than a frog (sorry, that's the only thing I could think of to make the Infant Jesus rhyme with Prague).
 

Overall, we liked Prague. It's beautiful romance made us want to snog and it helped me make my blog look pretty.

 

olympic fever

I interrupt our road trip coverage to bring you a story about the 2012 Olympic Games.

Graham got his first glimpse of the games today in the workout room at our hotel. As I critiqued the synchronized divers while stumbling my way on the elliptical machine, Graham studied their every move. His face did not turn from the TV screen for even a second. He was mesmerized, frequently shouting things like,  "aaah yah, oohya ah!"

After my invigorating elliptical workout, we hit the hotel pool where Graham attempted to perform several tricky jumps and dives. One time, he "dove" in belly first, swam under water, then came up doing an impeccable "freestyle" stroke that I'd never seen him do before and proclaimed, "I did it just like the swim racers, Mom!"

Shortly after his Olympic triumphs in the pool, we returned to our room to watch some gymnastics. Even though we didn't have Bob Costas helping us sort things out and get excited about Team USA, I still found myself standing up and chanting, "U-S-A, U-S-A!" Graham joined me and added his own sound effects, "Yaaahh boom! Ahhh ya!"

After they won, we celebrated with more chants , and then he attempted several flips and rolls on the hotel bed. He said with pure awe in his voice, "Mom, they did this stuff up in the air!"

I looked up the rest of the schedule for the evening and saw that there would be some swimming finals, including Michael Phelps, so I told Graham he could stay up past his bedtime to watch. Excited was he, and excited was I. When the breaststroke came up, I introduced Graham to Michael Phelps. Since Bob Costas wasn't available in Germany, I told him all about how Phelps won everything at the last Olympics and how he is the greatest swimmer in the whole wide world. Graham was beyond thrilled. I was certain Michael Phelps would not disappoint.



We bit our nails and chanted more "U-S-A!" And then Graham yelled, "It's a tie!"

"No, Graham. No. The South African won. Michael Phelps got second place," I said with teary eyes.

Graham didn't understand. That's not how it was supposed to happen. USA wins, right? No. No. Not always...

"Time for bed, buddy."

Tears began streaming down his face. He tried to fight them, but he couldn't. He laid his head on his pillow, crying, "The green guy wasn't supposed to win. It looked like a tie. The green guy...."

And so our night ended with explanations about how winning isn't everything and yada yada and "Did you see how Michael Phelps gave the green guy a handshake and told him 'good job?' The green guy deserved to win, bud."

"But, Mom? Why did the USA guy throw down his cap at the end?"

"Well, Graham, because he was disappointed and upset and that's okay to be disappointed... There will be more races, and I'm sure he'll win one of them."

Come on, Phelps. I'm counting on you. 

a smattering of things we've consumed

Lavender macaroons at a "Parisian" cafe in Budapest

 We like to eat.

Ice coffee, pistachio ice cream sundae, yogurt mango/mint smoothie from a fancy cafe in Vienna where Franz Schubert liked to chill after composing some masterpieces.

 We like to taste whichever culture we're in. 

Hungarian goulash from a roadside cafe just after entering Hungary

Weisbeer on the top of a mountain in Oberammergau

Tony likes to research good places to eat and then go out searching for them as we traipse across the towns or cities we're in. (He's a US Navy trained navigator, you know...)

There are cafes and eateries that entice you with every single step you take in European cities.



We have a small baby in tow, which requires us to stop and feed her.

My new favorite picture of Alaina. Taken by her amazing father.

 This all adds up to us eating (and drinking) a lot over here.

Viennese square noodles from Cafe Central, where Sigmund Freud used to sit, smoke cigars, and psychoanalyze himself.

Salmon and zucchini covered in dill sauce at a Rick Steve's recommendation in Budapest.

Graham's hamburger from the same place. Best hamburger in the world.

Chicken in yogurt sauce cooked in a clay pot from the same place. Delicious. Good job, Rick Steves!

Hot chocolate, piece of macaroon, and an apple/mango/cinnamon smoothie from that "Parisian" cafe in Budapest

Salad from the Great Hall Market in Budapest

 Yum...

And, believe me, that's not even the half of it...

I'll do better about taking pictures and posting these things if it's something you're interested in.

snapshots of Budapest

This is such an intriguing place.

 
 

You've got your Buda.

 

You've got your Pest.

 

 Connect um' with some bridges over the Danube, and you've got yourself a Budapest.
 

A thousand years of history that's been torn down and rebuilt so many times. It's hard to know when you're looking at something whether it is old or (relatively) new.
 

 
 

It has been a fun, educational couple of days for the Ramblin' Fam.
 

It's time to rest our tired bones, now.

Tomorrow, it's on to Prague for us.