The Sum of My Wisdom

Time to pull this all together: you now know what to know, here’s when to know it, with the links to my posts on each topic:

2 Years Out: Take a look at your finances. Can you afford this? Start saving, and start optimizing your reward programs. Set a target date for when you can go.

1 Year Out: Start narrowing down your destination choices. Catch up with your favorite travel books. See my short guides to France, England, Italy, Spain/Portugal, Scandinavia, Ireland, Germany (& Germany).

335 Days Out: If you have enough miles for award flights, start looking for booking them this far ahead.

9 Months Out: If you have your heart set on a rental apartment or vacation home, start looking now. For popular destinations, these book out well in advance.

8 Months Out: If you’re serious, start working on some language skills.

6 Months Out: Check your passports. Make sure they will cover your trip, plus six months beyond, some countries will not let you in if your passport is soon to expire.

5 Months Out: Check your wardrobe. Are your best clothes stashed in your “when I lose 20lbs” section? How good do you want to look in the trip photos? The best way to enjoy Europe is often on foot; you don’t have to be a marathoner, but being able to walk for an hour between wine bar stops is a plus. 5 months = 21 weeks = 21lbs on a steady diet. 20lbs is about a pant size for men (e.g., 36 vs. 38). No idea how it works with women’s sizes. Anyway, you can do it.

4 Months Out: Start looking for flights – optimum purchase time is usually 3-4 months out, seldom more than that. And make sure you can take the time off – clear that with your boss.

3 Months Out: You’ve booked your flight, so now you need to map out your sights and locations. Reread your books, and start the logistics. Once you know specifically what you want to see, book your hotels. And book your rental car, or any other transportation modes.

2 Months Out: Pick out your apps and scout for food, especially. Get your gadgets squared away – dedicated camera vs. phone. Correct converters and cords. Pick out your luggage.

1 Month Out: Confirm everything: flight, hotel, passports, rentals. Use a checklist for this.

3 Weeks Out: Work on a packing list and strategy. Make arrangements for your absence from home – watering plants, taking in packages, etc. Get a hold on your mail at the post office. And (if you’re over 60) stop your newspaper delivery.

2 Weeks Out: Make sure you’re all caught up at work, if that’s necessary. Don’t take it with you! Switch your phone plan over to the Euro Data package. Call your Credit Card companies to let them know you’ll be traveling, so they don’t cut you off.

10 Days Out: If possible, get everyone into quarantine. Start popping vitamin C boosters. Buy a case of hand sanitizer. Wear a surgical mask. You don’t want to get a cold three days before your trip.

1 Week Out: Get a haircut for everyone. Pack!

3 Days Out: Start shifting your sleep patterns, if you can. Try getting to bed as early as possible: 7:00 PM. If you wake up at 3:00, go with it. Bang out work, prepare supper for the evening, etc.

Night Before: Pray to whatever God you believe in that, against all common sense, a 300 ton chunk of aluminum and plastic can defy gravity for 9 hours.

Day Of: Smile! You’re on Vacation!

Languages: Whom Are You Kidding?

Just about anywhere you go in Europe you’re likely to find someone who speaks English. The frequency and quality of English speakers will vary depending on location, obviously; you may have an easier time understanding someone in Geneva than Glasgow, though you can read the newspaper in the latter. Most western Europeans take English lessons in school no later than the 5^th grade, often earlier. Before you say, “well, I took Spanish in the 5^th grade and can’t speak a lick,” remember continental Euros also get reinforcement through pop culture – from listening to U2 to watching the Avengers, your Euro teen will have plenty of opportunity to pick up some natural English. So, don’t worry too much about the language, wherever you go. You’ll make yourself understood.

That doesn’t mean you can’t have fun by learning a few stock phrases – and it is a lot of fun being able to conduct basic transactions in a foreign tongue, without the second party immediately shifting to English. The first step is to plan for what phrases you want to learn, so map out your situations. You’re on vacation, so chances are you’ll have to buy tickets for, say, museums or attractions. Great, learn how to do that. I knew I was going to have to get train tickets from Milan to Venice for the family on my last trip, so I had my phrase ready – “Quattro adulti e due bambi per favore, a Venezia, secunda classa, senza retour.” Four adults, two kids, please, to Venice, second class, no return (or something like that, I’m shooting off the top of my head, please don’t email me that my Italian is horrible, I know it is). But see, I spelled it all out in my practiced phrase, which headed off the chance for any questions by the ticket agent (because the moment you start getting questions, you’ll probably be lost). I also knew the price ahead of time so I didn’t need to figure out if she said 63 or 36.

You’ll be tempted to do this in restaurants, of course, that’s where most phrase books take you. Except it’s surprisingly hard here, unless you’re ordering fast food. Waiters are trained to ask questions, since they want to know if you need anything; they also want to upsell you on the special. Even if you can figure out how to say “je voudrais une coca-cola et un sandwich avec jambon et fromage,” they’re apt to prattle on about their choices in cheese for your sandwich, and since France has over 400 varieties…well, good luck. Though by all means, try, just be prepared to sheepishly shift to English. I try mself, but I also prefer to stick with the more controllable situations – tickets, as mentioned, or basic commercial transactions. And I have the general pleasantry stock phrases at the ready – yes and no, obviously, as well as please and thank you: make sure you have “pretty please” and “thank you very much” ready, too. Grazie is cool, but grazie mille? Now who’s the International Man (or Woman) or Mystery!?!

So, where are you going to learn these stock phrases? Don’t even try to pick them up out of a book. Well, you can try, but it’s not sufficient. The letter sounds in English bear only a passing semblance to the sounds you’ll get in German or French, from the same letters. Blame the Great Vowel Shift for some of that – our “long e” is the equivalent of a “long i” in German. That is, it’s not “Berlinner”, it’s “Berleener”. Etc. And I won’t even go into Umlauts.

You’ll have to have the phrase read to you aloud. And, if possible repeat it back to someone who can correct you and improve it. Sigh…this was a vacation, and now you’re lapsing into schoolwork. You can do it that way, of course, take a class at a local community college or whatnot. Or, if you’re doing this for your family, bring in a tutor to your home, have a group lesson for four tailored to your trip. You don’t need a lot of the basic words and phrases you learn in most classes – cat, nose, uncle. You don’t need the foundations of grammar – no one’s asking you for the dative form of that beer you wanted to order. No, you need basic travel phrases.

The Berlitz guys have been doing this for a while, and you can shell out a few hundred bucks to go through a course. It works, to be sure, if you’re committed. The idea is that, if you shelled out $500 for a course, you’ll make sure you actually do the work. The same theory has been used for gym memberships and exercise equipment. You tell me.

You can tamp it down a bit and try some of the cheaper language training apps that are out there. I won’t even bother to list them – they’re usually free to start, and you pay to unlock more training. I’ve used Rocket, to try to learn Spanish – go ahead, ask me how my Spanish is. Yep. Without someone pushing you along, chances are you’ll back-burner this, too.

At the very low end, you can take your Google Translate along, and speak into your phone. And, have your conversation mate speak into it, too. This doesn’t work at all, but it’s hilarious to try. Google translate is still a long way from going beyond basic words.

It does, however, work for picture translations. Hold your phone over a foreign word in Google Translate, and it will produce the English version. Not bad! It can help with simple restaurant menu items, a lot quicker than looking it up in a book. Unfortunately, modern menus have turned from “ham and cheese sandwich” to “Bluebird farms organic raised house cured ridgeback ham, with hormone free 14 month aged Emmentaler on sustainably harvested spelt bread”. Congratulations, you just crashed the Google servers.

I would recommend Bravolol as your go-to app here – it’s a simple phrase book on your phone, with pronunciation assistance. Pick your favorite phrases – mix and match, if you want to string something together, like my train ticket approach. Have them play out loud, and practice – best to have a partner listen to both, and give pointers as to where you weren’t accurate. If need be, you can play the phrases abroad when you need to, but believe me – it’s lame. You’re telling the waiter “I didn’t bother enough to try to learn your language – here, listen to this machine.” Not the way to get the best out of someone.

Top 5 Reasons You Want to Visit Ireland

5.) Kathy Ireland is your all-time favorite SI model.

4.) You’ve seen the Quiet Man, and tiddled your last wink.

3.) You want to laugh at the people who are foolish enough to kiss the Blarney Stone, knowing full well what the locals do to it when the tourists have left.

2.) You have ancestors who clawed their way out of that damp and miserable little island to make something of themselves, and you think going back to that damp and miserable little island is what they’d want you to do.

1.) You have a limited budget, but want to go to Europe, so you appreciate that flights to Ireland are especially cheap – less than $500 R/T from NYC, for example.

You know that Ireland drastically overbuilt during the housing bubble, and so have some wonderful hotels and resorts that are desperate for customers, and are willing to discount.

You’re aware that Ireland’s labor laws are less strict than other western European countries, though certainly not so loose as to make you feel guilty about paying less.

You appreciate the charm and sophistication of Dublin, with fine dining and credible theater.

You want to drive the Kerry Ring, and see crystal-clear lakes, lush green fields, fluffy sheep, and picturesque villages like Kells and Killorgin.

You think your kids would get a chuckle about going to visit Sneem.

You know they’ll get a kick out of the many castles that dot the landscape, as well as the stone circles and formations left by the mysterious Celtic druids.

You’re interested in seeing northern Ireland now that it’s peaceful, you want to get there while it’s still relatively undisturbed, from a tourist perspective.

You’ve seen Giant’s Causeway on the cover of a Led Zepplin album, and want to go there in person.
You’re a big Game of Thrones fan, and want to see Westros for real.

You like comfort food and drink, fun music, friendly people, cool weather, amazing scenery, cute as heck towns, even more friendly people, all at an affordable price. 

Scandinavian Skies

Did my $10,000 estimate scare you? Good, it was meant to. Yes, you can definitely get there for less, but you’ll spend more than you realize once you’re there. It adds up in a hurry.

If $5,000 is really all you have, don’t fret, you can do this. You just have to limit your destinations to less expensive options. The longer the flight, for example, the more expensive it will be. Every extra hour of flight time adds $100/person. So, instead of Rome or Prague, stick to the western edge of Europe.

Iceland fits this bill – you can get there in less than 6 hours from NYC, for $500/person. And it is technically a part of Europe. They speak a form of Norse that is readily understood by a Dane or Swede, and vice versa. I’m told the countryside is other-worldly, especially the volcanoes and thermal baths. And the Icelandic peoples are considered the most beautiful, physically, in Europe: tall & fit, if you go for that kind of thing. After all, their Viking forefathers did have a habit of carting off the prettiest girls from wherever they raided.

Beyond that…off the top of my head I couldn’t name a single famous Icelandic sight. There are no castles or cathedrals. No famous museums or medieval districts. No shopping boulevards or ancient ruins. If they have a national cuisine beyond herring, I haven’t heard, much less tried it. And I have no idea what they drink: meade? Beer, I suppose, but I can’t name a notable Icelandic brewery or style. And wine is right out. It seems to be a few cute & colorful seaside houses, and a lunar landscape beyond. Unless the latter is really appealing to you, I don’t get it. Please be sure: I don’t doubt the people are very friendly, and the fact that they haven’t emigrated en mass to the US is a good sign – life in Iceland is probably pretty good, currency crises not withstanding. However...visiting Iceland strikes me as the equivalent of going to Quebec for a week and saying you were in France. Quebec is lovely, the Quebecoise are delightful, and Quebec should be on your list of travel destinations -- but it’s not Paris.

Perhaps then you want to spend an extra few hundred and get all the way to, oh, Olso? I won’t stop you. Norway has more of what you’re looking for, starting with those darn fjords. They are unique, and astounding – nothing else quite like them anywhere else. Plus, Norway has a good chunk of continental culture, too – e.g., Edvard Munch was Norwegian. You’ll find art and architecture – bonus on that side, I find the cheery wooden temples of Norway to be a great break from the stone gothics further south. And remember that plucky Norwegian Air flies NYC-Oslo direct, at bargain rates. Go for it.

Norwegian Air, in fact, has stops all across Scandinavia. A week at the fjords seems like a long time to me, too, so perhaps you should include Sweden on your itinerary – or even start there. Sweden is an old kingdom – their relation to Norway is similar to Spain & Portugal. Sweden had wanted to dominate the peninsula for centuries, sometimes even successfully, but the Norwegians just wouldn’t let it happen. Sweden, in fact, had aspirations of being a world power, but could never quite get past pesky Russia. Eventually, they grew tired of their kings being killed on some foreign battlefield. They decided to just stick to themselves and build their own Great Society, based on equality, innovation and design; who can gainsay them on that? Visit Stockholm and you’ll find a clean, unspoiled, cosmopolitan city with great restaurants, fine shopping, friendly people, and a nifty mix of old and new. That's why the Swedes (along with the other Scandi countries) always rate high on those “happiness index” reports. They have everything – why be unhappy?

I don’t quite buy it, though. The Swedes should be happier than, say, the Italians, whose economy is perpetually on life support. But go visit both places, and you tell me who seems to be enjoying life more. I’m not much of a grit and earth traveler: I don’t vacation in Borneo so I can eat grubs like the locals, or spend a week in Almaty searching for the perfect hand woven tapestry. But I want some adventure, just a little, please? I think the Scandis, deep down, feel the same way. When you take away the struggle for the basic needs in life, food and shelter, what’s left but to drink, and ponder mortality? The Italians stared at post-Modernity and produced Fellini. The Swedes gave us Bergman.

Anyway, such for Sweden. Let’s pop on down to Denmark, a country which, frankly, should not exist. You figure Germany or Sweden would have scooped this guy up some time ago, it’s just hanging out there without the easily defensible terrain of Switzerland or Norway. And had Germany not been busy reassembling itself out of Richelieu’s 100 splintered principalities, Denmark probably would now be in the Bund, along with, oh, Luxembourg and chunks of Belgium, at the very least

Anyway, Denmark is lovely, with a vibrant kid-friendly culture – bring your little ones and you’ll get Hans Christian Andersen, the Tivoli gardens in Copenhagen, and Legoland, the good one, not those cheap mall-located Lego playrooms you’ll find scattered about the US. You can find excellent beer, haute cuisine, and fine shopping.  You can marvel at how these guys terrorized coastal Europe for centuries, and then settled down to peace and productivity. You can spend a fortune.

Did I mention that? Iceland is indeed a bargain – easy to get to, as mentioned, plus they’re desperate for tourism, having been crippled by the recent banking crisis. Their currency, the Icelandic Krona, was seriously devalued against the Dollar (and Euro), not having recovered: it’s a cheap stay. In contrast, Stockholm regularly ranks as one of the most expensive cities on the planet. Take a look at the “Big Mac” index: the cost of a Big Mac, adjusted for market currency exchange rate. The top five countries are:

1. Switzerland - $6.82 (6.50 CHF)

2. Norway - $5.65 (46 NOK)

3. Sweden - $5.13 (43.70 SEK)

4. Denmark - $5.08 (34.59 DKK)

5. United States - $4.79

You get the picture? Your dollar gets a lot less in Scandinavia proper. (Side note, makes me proud to be an American, landing at #5 on this list. Roughly, you can tell how well a country is doing by how quickly it drains your travel budget). Suddenly your $10,000 budget creeps into $12,000, and I’m not going there. Iceland starts to look a lot better in this regard, and, if I were living in NYC or Boston, I’d think about a short week or even a long weekend in Reykjavik. It would be cheaper than me, from Birmingham, spending a weekend in NYC or DC. Why not? It’s just not practical, though, to get there from the Deep South. So, no, as it is, the Scandis just don’t make my travel list. There are better options, stay tuned.

Europe #2

Birmingham Travel Dad – we go where other bloggers dare not, all in the name of making your trip the best it can be. Those with weaker constitutions and delicate sensibilities should take note of the title of this post, and consider finding a charming cat video for diversion.

OK, for the rest of us: Most of the popular Euro destinations – the ones I’ve covered, at least – are decidedly First World. You can get anything over there that you can here; often a better version of it, at that. You may have to put up with an inconvenience or two, especially for medications: several Euro countries don’t sell basics like Advil in grocery stores. You have to find a pharmacy for those, and their pharmacies aren’t the 24 hour mini-supermarkets that ours are – theirs sell medications, and that’s it. Every reasonable town has at least one 24 hour pharmacy, but often it’s just one. Good luck finding it. Go ahead and bring your basics pills along from the US – obviously, your scripts, but also antacids and pain relievers and such. Still, if you forget something, your hotel will point you in the right direction to buy more.

The same cannot be said for toilet paper. This is, I’m afraid, a topic on which the US and Europe simply don’t see eye to eye. Before my Euro friends get on me, thinking I’m denigrating their view on the matter, let me state categorically that I understand their position. We just have different values, that’s all. We in the US appreciate comfort above all else. Euros prize stability and economy: not that their paper is cheap, but Euros have a cool head for Total Cost. Use less, spend less, and that requires a more rugged species of paper.

So, when you go to a nice hotel and the papier feels cheap – it’s probably not, you’re just comparing it to the US brands which have traded durability for that extra comfort. No point in asking the concierge for a more plush brand, it’s not available over there. But consider the flip side – when Euro’s come here, they shudder at how quickly our paper disintegrates during application. Low-grade, they suspect, when the opposite is probably true.

You can try to appreciate the qualities of fine Euro paper, on an intellectual level, but that’s unlikely to give your foundation any relief underway. No, you can’t get used to it in a week or two. You can try to buy the Euro-feel equivalent in the US before your trip, and acclimate yourself months in advance – sure, blow through a case of industrial quality Scotts. Euro brand will feel luxuriant after that.

You’re clearly not going to do that, though, unless you were on some mission of total emersion in Euro culture. Your best bet is to go right ahead and bring a few rolls of your favorite brand with you. Why not? It’s light weight, compacts pretty well, and as it’s used, you’re freeing up space for bringing things home. Go ahead, take a six pack. If I could bring a portable ice machine along with me, I’d do that, too. There are some things on which never the twain shall meet. 

It's Only Money, After All

OK, so how much is all of this going to run you? I should have started with that question long ago, since that’s the first question that you should ask: what has it cost you, what have you won? When I go to Europe I start with an estimate of $10,000. $1,000/person for airline tickets, $4,000; $200/night for 10 nights, $2,000; $100/day for a decent rental vehicle with car seats, $1,000 – That’s $7,000 already. Call it $300/day for the actual fun stuff – dining, tickets, purchases. $10,000.

Yep, that’s why I don’t go every year, or even every other year. I don’t have $1,000 in my monthly budget to set aside to save for a trip, which is what you should do. Your tax refund won’t cover that either, not by a long shot. But you should try to set aside $400/month in a fund, over two years that will get you there. Or, if you’re lucky enough to get a bonus, make that the kitty.

After that, you’re going to have to try to shave costs where you can. I put in $1,000/ticket, but shoot for $800. You can rent a vacation apartment for $1,000 for a week, plus a few extra nights, call it $1,500. Cut down on the number of driving days: $600. Go off season and save another 15%. Depending on where you make your compromises, you can still have a great time at $7,000. Below that and you’re risking your trip. But $300/month over two years will get you to that $7,000. Reachable.

You want to go for less? I briefly discussed travel agencies and packages. On the former – they can be great resources, true, if you have a good agent. They’ll certainly save you money if you don’t want to do any of the legwork I’ve outlined, but you won’t be going on the cheap. On Packages and Tour Operators…I firmly believe you get what you pay for, here. If that room is being discounted heavily, it *may* be because of volume through the operator. Or, it may be because that hotel has trouble getting repeat business. I’ve purchased through a package operator once: it was indeed a low price (though I can’t recall what it was). Covered flight (NYC-Paris) and a three star hotel in a convenient neighborhood. Caveats: you had to fly out of NYC, so factor in the cost to get there (I’ll guarantee you no tour operator runs packages out of Birmingham, and no, as much as I like putting these trips together, there’s not enough local volume to make it a viable business). The flight was Wed-Wed – it’s a small thing, maybe, but I hate losing the extra weekend. Ideally, you fly Fri-Sun combos, right, to max the weekends – fit in 9 days while only taking 5 off. It makes a difference. As to the hotel...it may have qualified as a three star, but it was pretty shabby, and the mattress was far from comfortable. To be fair, I’ve had that issue with other three star hotels, especially in France. This was in the days before TripAdvisor, so perhaps now you can do better vetting of package hotels before purchasing. More likely you’ll be able to AirBnB your way into a better spot. And I won’t even get into the group tours, nope, not waiting around for other people to get on the darn tour bus so we can go to the net spot.

So – count on $10,000, you’ll have a great time if you can swing it. Go off-season, if you must, and you can compromise on dining out – eat large breakfasts at the hotel (usually included) and make sandwiches for lunch. But *don’t* spend $4,000 on a cheapie trip and walk away from it remembering only the bad food and rotten hotel. In that regard, a trip is a lot like a wedding: horribly expensive, and not necessarily worth it. You get good memories and photos, mostly. But if you cheapen up on a few key things (e.g., cash bar) you leave with the wrong memories.

Travel Odds and Ends

Whenever I land Europe, I can’t help but have the Beatles loop in my head. Born in 1971, my earliest memories of Euro travel are tinged with the holdover from the late-Beatles era fashion and design. I wouldn’t hear the actual music until years later – no Beatles were played in our household – but the link in my mind makes it seem like Abbey Road was playing on the airport speakers whenever we landed in Hamburg.

It still seems that way – again, it’s an old association I’ve made, but strengthened by a few factors, including the remnants of 70’s design aesthetic, often in architecture that’s slowly being replaced, and noticeably in the color schemes and fonts on airport signage: earthy greens and yellows, frequently. And when you land in Europe, chances are dawn is just breaking: Here Comes the Sun, indeed.

Anyway, in the olden days, you might try to put a mixed tape/cd together for the trip. I suppose today it would be a digital playlist on your phone that you sync with the car radio. That assumes your rental can handle that, and it probably can: I’ll do it for my upcoming trip, but it won’t hurt to have a back-up CD, too. Nor should you be wary of the radio: sure, if you don’t speak the language fluently, you won’t pick up on what the DJ is saying. But they play hits just like we do here, and you may end up hearing one repeatedly that becomes the theme song for the trip.

You can also do the usual trippy activities to pass the time while driving, touring, or visiting museums. Scavenger hunts are always popular, but tamp them down a bit, this should be play, not work. The usual US road trip stuff – cows, bands, Hawaii license plates – can be replaced by local flavor items. Windmills (5 points for new, 25 points for old), castles, Finnish license plates, you name it. In Normandy, one year, we searched days for the elusive dovecoat (found them eventually, they’re only in the north, but nobody told us that). Set a team goal, as opposed to an individual competition, we don’t want anyone getting out of joint because they lost.

Scavenger hunts work in cities, too; I bought these hunt guides for my last trip, but they turned out to be a little too much effort for small kids. I got some good tips, though. In Venice, look for lions, the city symbol. Florence uses fleur-de-lit as theirs. Though kids will find their own occupation, for ours, it was chasing pigeons. Whatever works, right, but knowing the city symbol of wherever you’re visiting will add just that much more.

Finally: Pick a theme food, for your kids to follow. You don’t want every meal to be the same, but have one thing that you can compare from place to place. In Barcelona we had the Barcelona Bomba at every tappas joint we tried – please, don’t laugh, we are well aware that the Barcelona Bomba is strictly a tourist food, but it’s just an appetizer, no harm done. In Italy? You’ll have multiple gelatos. Have the kids compare and contrast after each. Germany? Regions have different style sausages, give each a shot. France? There’s a crepe within 10 minutes of wherever you are, no matter where you are. You get the picture. I don’t think this is a small thing, btw. You’re justifying the $10,000 you’re spending on broadening your little dears’ horizon, and learning discernment goes along with that. If you have them compare different things – pizza Napoli vs. spaghetti prima vera – personal preference takes over. But if they compare Schnitzel A vs. Schnitzel B, well, then you’ll have to do a comparison between the two similar products. “I liked A because the breading was crispier”. That’s a step towards refinement.

Two, Much Germany

Did I mention that Germans love their cars? Sure, we in the US have a love affair with the automobile, but ours is different. Our cars are about freedom and power: hulking, intimidating vehicles that, if need be, you can live in on your rambling three week drive across the US. Engine blocks big enough to tinker with yourself without taking the whole thing apart – crucial for when you break down outside Bakersfield.

You can cross Germany comfortably in 10 hours. German cars are light & efficient. Germans love them for their technical refinement and precision. You can’t take these cars apart yourself – they have to fit together *just* so. If something goes wrong, you have to call Heinz, your mechanic, and get your wallet ready.

The German model is winning, if you haven’t noticed. American boys don’t tinker around on their cars anymore. Ask your kid what a carburetor is: used to be your average 10 year old could rebuild one. Now they think it’s a menu item at Taco Bell. Only old fogies still love their cars for what they stand for – Springsteen’s “I swear I found the key to the universe” line was written 45 years ago. Your grandchildren won’t even get a license, they’ll just ask their Apple car to get them somewhere. Or, they won’t even bother going. Who needs to visit the Grand Canyon, it’s available in VR? They’ll mark their freedom in how much wifi access they have.

Wait, this is still a travel blog, right? Back to our story. Germans love their cars, so it’s no wonder that they designate their major tourist sites as “Strassen” – roads. Germans want you to get into your car and drive (fine, you can do it by train, see previous post). It’s not a hub & spoke system like staying in London, or a circuit like the Irish Kerry Ring.  You’re supposed to go from point A to point B, and experience things along the way. It’s the travel version of a Bildungsroman.

Appropriately, the most famous German route is The Romantic Road. The translation suffers here: this isn’t romantic, like a week at a Sandals resort. The German is Die Romantische Strasse, and they’re thinking along the lines of literary romanticism. A brief refresher – this is literature that stresses the imagination and emotion. That’s what you wanted when you were squeezed into a coal-fueled factory for 16 hours a day, and that’s what Germans found in the half-timbered villages and walled towns along the DRS.

The DRS starts (or ends, depending on your PoV) at our old friend, Neuschwanstein, and runs to Würzburg maybe a couple hundred miles north. Though I prefer its slightly less touristy neighbor, Dinkelsbühl, the high point is considered Rothenburg ob der Tauber, about midway along the route.

I remember once visiting the frigate USS Constitution moored in Boston. The tour guide described the constant maintenance that was necessary on a vessel like that – he estimated the woodwork had all been swapped out four times over the life of the ship. I got to wondering – am I standing on the actual USS Constitution, or is this really just a replica? What does continuity mean anyway? When I visit Rothenburg, it looks like a medieval town, but surely in the last 500 years buildings have been gutted, facades rebuilt, whole blocks razed and recreated. I mean, it’s cute to stay in a 400 year old inn, but you wouldn’t want to do it unless it had undergone some renovation, right? So, what does it mean for a medieval town to be “authentic”? For that matter…I remember hearing as a kid that the atoms in our bodies are constantly changing out – that we swap out our entire bodies’ atoms every seven years or so. What does that really mean – am I still me? Am I a totally different creature from, say, 10 years ago?

Ahem. Sorry, but these are the sort of thoughts that are bound to pop into your head as you travel the melancholy Romantic Road, even in memory. Be prepared for having your kids look at you quizzically as you stare off into the distance.

Maybe you don’t want to consider the universe, and you place in it? Maybe you just want to have a few days of fun and relaxation. Good times, noodle salad.  If so, then consider the German Wine Road. Die Deutsche Weinstrasse runs parallel  to the Rhine (though not immediately next to it) in Germany’s western region, close to where the border with France takes a sharp left turn on the map. DDW is certainly a poorer version of, say, a drive through Champagne, and it’s much shorter than most other designated touring routes. Let’s face it, German wines are only in moderate regard. That doesn’t mean you can’t get some excellent ones, and the scenery is breathtaking: flowered villages set among leafy vineyards. The route is even better if you pair it to a drive along the Moselle River, which is close to the northern end of DDW. The Moselle is truly spectacular: it’s regularly featured in marketing materials, with good reason. Cochem is not to be missed, dominated by a picture book castle. Tip from my wife – sign up for the falconry display, your kids will get a kick out of seeing how these birds were used for hunting. The Cochem castle has this, and I’d bet many others do, too.

That’s what you really want, right? I mean, you can drag your kids to one Weinstube after another, but they’ll get bored while you get tipsy. Castles are fun for all ages, and luckily, Germany has a route for that too. Die Deutsche Burgenstrasse bisects north and south Germany, from Heidelberg all the way to the Czech border and into Prague.  The most lovely stretch is considered to run along the Neckar valley from Heidelberg to Heilbronn, but you would do well to choose to see then entire stretch as one vacation. You’ll get a lot of variation in the process – you’ll cover several German states along the way, not even counting the dip into the Czech Republic. And the scenery is marvelous.

If north-south is your preference, another option is the German Fairy Tale Road. Like Die Romantische Strasse, the translation of Die Maerchenstrasse is a bit off. This road takes you through the region of Germany that the Grimm Brothers mined for their fairy tale collection – it’s not necessarily dotted with actual fairy tale-like sights. Some towns play up their association – there’s a village that claims to be the origin for the Pied Piper tale, and so have adopted the rat as their town symbol, you see little rat footprints in the sidewalk meant guide you along the town. But I think of this road more as a curiosity for the philologist, or cultural historian: the towns along the route are actually functional, and hence less fairy-tale than the deliberately touristy roads on the romantic road.

The forests that gave birth to many of the fairy tales have largely been razed, too – you’ll find more farms than anything along the DMS. That’s OK, since we tend to associate tales like Hanzel & Gretel with Germany’s premier forest, the Schwarzwald. I won’t go into this one now, since that’s where I’ll be heading in a few weeks: you’ll get a full account soon. Just know that I consider it to be chock full of the fun activities for the whole family. As they say: Stay tuned. 

Germany, If You Must

As has been noted, when Germans go on tour…you'd better lookout. If you go to Italy or Spain, you’re bound to run into marauding Teutonic hoards. Don’t fight it: they have more money than you, and their complaints will be heard. They’re not a squeaky wheel, they're the blaring siren.

This isn’t a terrible thing: Germans know and demand quality, and efforts to lure them have forced more than one hotel to update dilapidated rooms. Regrettably, Germans love plain white walls, which robs some locations of local charm. But clean and white is better than filthy.

Beyond the hotels, you’d be hard pressed to claim that German influence improves the quality of local food, outside of what – adding beer and sausages? Now, don’t get too smug. The American reputation for food abroad is hardly better, indeed mostly worse. If you want proof, go ahead and order a Pizza Americano in Italy. The result is pure humiliation, especially once you realize it’s not far off base.

 Anyway, wherever you go, the Germans will be waiting for you. A tour bus from Teuteberg or charter flight from Chemnitz have booked your favorite restaurant. Fritz from Frankfurt and Hanna from Hamburg just took the last lounge chairs by the pool. You can’t win.

Best you can do, really, is take the fight to them. Sun Tzu says, if you’re weaker than your opponents, invade! And in this case, you are weaker – you can’t outspend a German on holiday. (Fine, that may have changed now that the Euro is at $1.10, but you certainly couldn’t when it was $1.40).

Germany has never been a popular place to visit, even when they’re not pointing 88’s at you. Survey’s regularly place them outside of the top 10 for Euro destinations; even asylum seekers from desert climates prefer to move to the frozen north, if given the chance. There are known cases of Iraqi refugees returning home because they couldn’t put up with yet another currywurst. That’s fair enough. Germany’s reputation as being orderly and efficient, clean to the point of sterility, mostly humorless, and generally dull have some merit. Their humor actually tends towards the scatological, oddly enough, and you won’t be going there to party in some crazy rave, that train left for Moscow a decade ago.

But you’re going with your family! And clean & orderly isn’t so bad when you have two or three bewildered kids in tow. Your kids will appreciate the simple sausage and cutlet fare, too, and take my word for it, German soft-serve ice cream will be a huge hit with them, as will the cakes and pastries that festoon the landscape: getting fresh rolls from the local bakery every morning is still de rigueur for much of the population. Kinder brand chocolate can’t match the Belgians for sophistication, or the Swiss for depth, but you’ll find yourself stealing large portions of whatever Kinder bar you purchase from your kids.

As for sights – what, do you really want to compare with the high points of the Renaissance that you’ll find in Florence? The splendor of Louis XIV’s court? The grandeur of ruins of Rome? Oddly enough, you can find some of all of that in Germany, to varying degrees – yes, including some excellent Roman ruins. But most of what you’ll find is just a notch below the original: Cologne Cathedral is spectacular, but doesn’t quite stack up to Reims. Burg Eltz is a fairy tale castle, but no match for Carcassone. German Rieslings are delicious, but I’ll take a glass of quality frogwater any day. You get the picture.

So why bother, if you’re not getting the best of why we go to Europe? The best art, food, architecture, scenery? Germany’s case is that, while they may not have the best entry in any individual category, their entry is usually a credible second or third place, and they compete in all categories. Let’s go with food. France is the undeniable king, and I consider Italy to be second. Third place, Germany? You may laugh, but the little town of Baiersbronn in the Black Forest has more aggregate Guide Michelin stars than all of London.

How about cute towns? Hilltop Tuscany usually wins here, but Rothenburg and Dinkelsbuhl are as picturesque as they come. Germans love to put flowers everywhere, which you won’t usually get in the corresponding French versions.

You can get specialized, too: If archaeology is your bag, then the British Museum is stop number one. Stop number two? Berlin’s Pergamon Museum.

There’s simply no other country in Europe that offers the breadth of quality sights and interests as Germany. There’s something for everyone on your travel list, and when you travel with 4-6 people, this becomes important: everyone has to have a stake. Wrap that up with OCD level cleanliness, clear and efficient transportation, high level of personal security, and you have a travel destination that, pound for pound, stands up to any other.

Now, when most people think of travel to Germany, they think beer halls and oom-pah-pah bands: Oktoberfest fare. Germans will bristle at this: what we think of as typically German is specifically Bavarian. The correlative would be of a German assuming a New Yorker carries a revolver and a ten gallon hat. Your typical Northern German doesn’t think he’s much like his Bavarian counterpart: if you can believe it, Bavarians are considered to be “impulsive”. As an outsider, we may not see much of a difference, but they do.

Still, if you’re going to Germany, Bavaria is a great place to start. You can take your kids to the Hofbrauhaus in Munich, if that’s what you want, but don’t be that guy/gal. There’s plenty to do elsewhere.

And in my opinion, elsewhere is outside of Munich. Venture south and you bump right into the Bavarian Alps. Remember when I said Germany had the second or third best of everything? This falls smack dab into that category. These aren’t the Swiss Alps, or even Austrian, but they’re delightful, none-the-less. The southwestern corner of Bavaria is home to Castle Neuschwanstein, which is decidedly not a second or third place finisher: it is the best castle in Europe (Carcassone really falls into the category of walled city). Yes, there are long lines, and you’re in for a good deal of walking, but it’s the arch-type for magical castles. The lovely little town of Fuessen serves as a good base for exploring this region, which is dotted with sparkling mountain lakes and joyous local kids frolicking in their lederhosen or dirndls.

Move due east, and the mountains begin to dominate. You’re in true Catholic Alpine country now, and from the former Olympic village of Garmish-Partenkirchen you’re only a bobsled ride away from the Zugspitze, Germany’s tallest mountain (it sits right on the Germany-Austria border, the way Mont Blanc straddles France and Italy). More snow-covered peaks and bovine-infested valleys await.

Keep moving West, and you will eventually run out of Germany. But not before you can duck down into that wee little corner where you’ll find Berchtesgaden. Yes, the town will never quite be able to erase its stink as being the Nazi’s playground, but you can’t blame the surrounding nature for being so darn attractive. And once you’re all sceneried-out, pop over the border and visit Salzburg: Music City, Austria.

If you’ve gone that far, you’ll have to back-track a bit. Things really don’t get amusing again until you’ve reached the north of Bavaria, and the Imperial cities. In particular: Regensburg, which is also a good spot to hop on a short boat tour along the Danube to this place. Then on to Nurnberg, which has its delightful medieval town center and castle (completely and painstakingly rebuild after WWII). Finally, Bamberg, which tosses its hat into the ring for the “prettiest town in Germany” title (it was the largest city to escape allied bombing). You decide, but I don’t gainsay them on this.

From there, head west to Wurzburg, and the baroque Residenz; north to Coburg, an unspoiled gem; east to Bayreuth, and see if you can snag a ticket to a Wagner opera.

This itinerary has a bit of a cuteness overload factor – the kids will go for it only so much. Once you get past the Bavarian Alps, it’s one half-timber town center after another, one more baroque church to be viewed. You can capitulate by giving your kiddies a day in the Playmobil Funpark outside Nurnberg (admit it, you’re curious), or take the opposite tack and tour Dachau. I don’t think my kids are ready for the latter, and I’m not spending a precious vacation day at the former. I prefer to cut back on Bavaria and see other sights. To be continued.