Ich Bin Ein Berliner

I am 100% absolutely determined to finish writing about our honey moon before our 1 year anniversary.  Which means I have 6months give or take to write about 2 more cities.  Doesn't sound like much right?  Wrong.  Because the last 2 cities were momentous.  Like huge.  Partly because we packed so much into them and partly because they have so many momentously huge things to be packed into them.  Like the Colosseum people.  And The Brandenburg gate.  I mean really.  I could write about 7 posts about the Colosseum alone.  I could live in there.  I could walk around the Colosseum for 2 days.  Exploring every nook and crany.  I'd particularly like to explore the cranies they don't let you in...but being in Italian jail didn't sound appealing to me.

But anyway.....

Berlin!

Apparently as a small child I went to Germany.  I'm not really sure where in Germany because I was young and I was just recovering from a very rare form of Pnuemonia that I got and suffered through in Sweden (yes this is my life).  All I remember about Germany from childhood are castles.  They were around every corner.  And yogurt.  They had the best dang yogurt

So really Germany was a whole new world to me.  And I've never been to Berlin.

By the time we got to Berlin SP and I were pretty tired.  I love Paris but we don't speak French and that alone can be wearing.  And we had now been walking for about a week straight probably 10miles a day.  You know that saying...walk until your feet bleed?  We did it.  Literally.  I was also eating Ibuprofen like it was candy.

So when SP's aunt offered to pick us up at the Berlin airport and show us around while we were in Germany, I was so incredibly game.  We got into Berlin late at night so SP's aunt gave us the night time driving tour, then we went back to her apartment and crashed REAL hard.  The next day we went to a castle.

Just kidding, we did go to a mansion though.  And it was gorgeous and decadent and sunny and a much slower pace which we really needed.  We wandered through the house and the gardens and I once again imagined how lovely it must have been to be royalty (when IS my royal family coming to get me already?!)

 

Charlottenburg Palace

We also went to a beer garden.  Now that's a tradition I could get behind.  From my limited experience it seems that Germans take a lot of breaks and drink a lot of beer and they like to be out doors.  Yes. Yes. and Yes.  Sitting outside having a beer, enjoying nature, relaxing, chatting with friends - why are we not doing this more in the US?  It is an accepted part of the culture there to stop and have a delicious beer in the middle of the day.  Yes.  And the Beer.  The Beer is amazing.  comparable to the French croissant.  Like the best beer of my life.

BEST BEER & PRETZEL EVERRRRR

After that we did essentially every major site in Berlin there is to see in one whirlwhind afternoon. The architecture the sun the grass the beer, oh wait, did I mention the beer already?  I think I could be German except for one small thing...the language.  I feel that personally I'm pretty adept at languages.  I can pick up important phrases quickly and I know that if I put in some effort and use it I could learn most of your garden variety languages (nothing tonal that would never happen) but German sounds like nothing familiar to me. And no offense Germans, its kinda ugly sounding.  None the less I really liked Berlin and I would love to spend some more time in Germany in general...

 Reichstag building

 The Brandenburg Gate

 Fun Fact: The Hotel Aldon is where Michael Jackson hung his baby out the window

 Beautiful beautiful Berlin

After the quicksie poo tour of Berlin's major sites SP's aunt whisked us away to her country home.  Another trend I could get behind.  Apparently many German city dwellers also keep a place in the country where they can get away from it all when they are tired of the city life.  Sign me up.  SP's aunt's country house is beautiful and definitely out in the country surrounded by ponds and fields and green.  It was a breath of fresh air after SO MUCH hustle and bustle.  

We were REALLY in the country

 The Martin Luther Doors

The quaintness KILLED me.  Love love love 

Germans love their nature!

 Beautiful Beer Garden, Happy Sarah

And boy did we need that breath of fresh air as we set off to Roma...

It's My Birthday and I'll....

...Be an old lady if I want to....

Well I'm closing out another year and ringing in another new one...again...  But this one is my personal new year (that and everybody else born on this date (well...the 6th technically) of course, but in my world it's mine)  It is the first year where I think I'm starting to feel older.  I mean not like OLD OLD - SP reminds me regularly that old isn't until you hit at least 90yrs old.  But I just feel like my age I guess.  I'm an adult.  Like a real one.  And that's sort of weird soemtimes.  I'm married for goodness sake.  And I am hurtling towards 30 at a somewhat terrifying rate.  I mean not that I'm afraid of 30 (I'm not, I'm sort of looking forward to it to be honest) but the passing of time is going really really quickly.  I'm long out of undergrad now.  and long long (depending on who you talk to) out of highschool.  But mostly its the life benchmarks that keep me feeling older - like the being so insanely stable.  And the wanting to stay in on new years instead of out and crazy.  And the desire to talk about the future and buying houses and having kids - and not in that one day maybe wistful sort of way, but in the this is really gonna happen, planning sort of way.  It's pretty nuts.  And it's my life.  

And the crazy part is.  I.LOVE.IT.

Being an old stable lady really is for me.

So stop rambling and get on with what I actually did for my birthday you say?  You got it!

Well on Friday SP made an adorable dinner in.  And by made I mean picked up from our favorite Italian restaurant and we ate it by candle light and it was fabulous.  On Saturday we spontaneously decided to head to San Francisco to see the "painted ladies," walk the Fisherman's wharf, visit the Musee Mechanique, and eat ice cream at Ghiradelli Square.  My bestie even met us there!  It was the perfect day.  And on Sunday I spent my entire day in my stretchy pants.  We even ate lunch in bed while watching trashy rom com's.  Oh SP, she indulges me so.  Best birthday yet and they're only getting better!

 The Beautiful Painted Ladies

 My gorgeous baby on the gorgeous pier

Delicious Cafe Lunch at the Bean Bag Cafe (YUM)

Musee Mechanique 

Chocolate Paradise

And how my REAL birthday started out.  Coffee and my FURBABY

And that's a WRAP!  26 over and OUT.

Paris - My Love

The Second Installment of the Honeymoon Chronicles...really really late...

Besides SP & Babies & sometimes Kori, Paris is my all time favorite topic to talk about and dream about.

Paris is pretty dang romantacized.  Everybody dreams of Paris right?

Well my love affair with Paris it didn't quite come to full bloom right away.  My love affair with Paris has been a long time growing - no love at first sight for this girl and Paris.

My first trip to Paris was when I was like 12 yrs old.  And at that age when you have been uprooted from your "normal life" Paris isn't much to see.  Especially because you can't walk on the grass, there isn't a free bathroom within a 100 mile radius, French people aren't really into American kids, or tourists, or noises etc.  I mean you have to pay to get into the playground.  Which is basically the biggest injustice in life when you are 12 and really really bored.  So needless to say the 1st trip was a little rough.

My second trip to Paris wasn't quite love at first sight either.  But it was definitely a better situation.  I was older, I had recently finished AP art history and was in love with all things art and Lourve.  And while the idea of spending 6 weeks with only my younger brother as a companion (sorry Bro, I love you!  And in retrospect I'm glad you were there) wasn't my favorite teenage dream summer, I wasn't totally against it.  This, angsty teenage trip however is where that little fire in my heart started to grow for Paris.  The people were still rude and you still couldn't walk on the grass, but at least McDonalds had a free, smokeless bathroom to remind me of home.  And in 6 weeks.  When you are living in Paris - not staying in a hotel, you become a Parisian.  Whether or not you dress as well or can speak the language.  Being an akward teenager allowed me to not be as well dressed.  And letting my brother and mother struggle through the communication portion of the trip meant I didn't need to be able to speak the language to enjoy - that and the fact that if you feign French, the Parisians will often forgive your Americanness and then switch over to English and speak to you with loving disdain instead of just ignoring you.  In those 6 weeks my mom and brother (while my dad was slaving away somewhere) we DID Paris.  Like everything you could possible do in Paris.  We hiked every spire and lit a candle in every single church.  I took some of my best photography there (with FILM) and my eyes were finally opened to the amazing people, culture, art, and experiences this world had to offer me.  My wanderlust was instilled young because of my Dad's propensity to foreign, lengthy sabaticals.  For that I am forever grateful.

So when we were planning the epic european honeymoon I knew SP had to see Paris.  Had to see the churches, and the people and the art and the history.  She had to see through my teenage eyes and fall in love the way I had with the smells and tastes of other possibilities.  She had to try every croissant and see every adorable cobbled street and love it the way my heart has grown to love every foreign corner.

Going back to Paris was like going back in time to find my teenage self and tell her that all of her dreams would come true.  It was like finding familiar streets and loving all of the strangeness and familiarity at the same time.  The Louvre was still ginormous and full of art and history and dreams and flashbacks to my AP Art History class.  The Eiffel Tower was still towering and majestic and the best (and coldest) views of the city.  The Churches were still full of mystery and awe and the lingering smell of incense and reminders of my history and my forever love of the Virgin Mary (the Catholic runs deep - as does the obsession with our Virgin Mother).  Every twist and turn and chruch was still gorgeous and still perfect.  The Parisan's were still rude (one instructed SP on the correct way to eat mussels - she wasn't thrilled about being corrected in public) and the bread and pastries were still the BEST.IN.THE.WORLD. Amen.  Versailles was still a 25acre dream full of palaces and blistering feet and gilded frames.

I have literally 400 pictures from paris (397 to be exact) so this is the INSANELY slimmed down version.

Dream with me…

Versailles is my REAL love

 Also if you can only go to one art museum other than the Louvre - go to the Musee d'Orsay!

Also I ADORE Gargoyles!

 The street art is also off the chain...

 I could spend DAYS in the Louvre 

 ...and in Notre Dame

Au revoir my loves!