Ninjas of Nürnberg

So Desi and I took our annual Christmas market trip international this year and booked a package deal to Nuremberg, Germany because:

a) Nuremberg is internationally known for its fantastic Christmas market, 

b) Desi's dad had been there and confirmed it's a wicked time, and

c) Strasbourg was completely booked.

The train ride from Zurich is six hours.  To fortify us, I did two things: made a liter of pineapple mimosas and read a well-timed article in the New York Times called "10 Apps That Make Magic on Your iPad," which gave me the genius idea of downloading Fruit Ninja.  

www.fruitninja.com
Trust me, you want this.  You need this.

If you have not yet downloaded Fruit Ninja...you need to get on that.  Fruit Ninja is a deceptively simple game whereby one swipes their finger across the touch screen in an attempt to slice fruit ninja-style (duh) while avoiding bombs and snagging wicked magic bananas that add considerably to your score and happiness.  The hours flew playing this game as we hurtled towards Middle Franconia, and Desi managed to hit a jaw-dropping best score of 408, a feat we later came nowhere near to approaching again.  Desi is able to accomplish this due to her dexterous hands, slim fingers and the fact that G-d clearly loves her more.

But I digress.  In any event, we finally made it to Nuremberg.

"Christmas Market: Glühwein inspection!"
Clearly, they heard we were coming.   

Before Berlin or Munich were much of anything, Nuremberg was where it was at, considered back in the day to be the unofficial capital of the Holy Roman Empire.  The Kaiserburg, the fortified castle at the top of the city, was built in the 11th century and served as a palatinate (Pfalz) for the Emperor's frequent visits to the city.  In fact, it was law that the every German Kaiser spend at least his first day in office in Nuremberg.  Fast forward to the 20th century, when Nuremberg was the site of massive Nazi rallies and where the infamous Racial Purity Laws were proclaimed.  Accordingly, the Allies bombed the crap out of them, obliterating 90% of the city's historical buildings.  Happily, Nuremberg has risen like a phoenix from the ashes and reconstructions have returned it to its past splendor.

Our first view of the market - but first stop was lunch!

Planning our plan of attack

After a fortifying lunch of German cuisine and beer, D-Ninja and I made our way into the massive crowds at market, held in the Hauptmarkplatz (which is, Desi learned, the largest pedestrian zone in Europe).  The Hauptmarktplatz is located in what was once the Jewish quarter of Nuremberg and in 1349 during some plague hysteria was unfortunately also the site of a massive pogrom.  Three years later, Karl IV commissioned the church that stands there today, the Catholic Frauenkirche, whose ornate facade thankfully survived the Allies' bombs.  Likewise for the Schöner Brunnen (literally, Beautiful Fountain), located in its golden opulence at the piazza's corner.

Crowds at the Hauptmarktplatz

Beautiful ladies visit beautiful fountains

Me in front of the Frauenkirche

Night quickly fell but the crowds stayed, visiting stalls stuffed with Christmas decorations, toys and gifts while keeping up their energy (and warmth) with famous Nuremberger Lebkuchen (gingerbread), Rostbratwurst, and (my personal favorite) Glühwein.  Sometimes it's very obvious why things are traditions; Desi and I happily partook of these delicious treats to stay warm and happy.  (Except for the bratwursts, which were more like mini breakfast sausages and I am not sure how I feel about them being called bratwursts because I don't feel like they're really big enough to qualify.  But I'm hardly an expert.)

Christmas Schmuck & other market treasures

Hot spiced wine: the delicious way to warm the blood

Eventually, after a long day of travel, seasonal sights and delights and cold, we called it a day, slept a few hours, and then kept going.  Fortified by a full English breakfast (coincidentally being seated next to some very loud English people), our first stop was to the Handwerkhof, a quaint - albeit tourist trap - walled-in area near to the city wall's tower with medieval-esque shops selling handcrafts.  

Poor Desi, being forced to pose yet again at the Handwerkhof

We then trekked up the hill to visit the castle and take in the view of the city below.  

Nuremberg rooftops from the Kaiserburg

On the way down, we accidentally walked into some kids' event but managed to beat a retreat before getting further sucked in and instead enjoyed the smaller "international" Christmas market of Nuremberg's sister cities - with some nice surprises.

Visiting our English-speaking friends

Then we wrote some postcards and headed out.  There was some slight freaking out (okay, me freaking out) at the train station when we got there and it appeared that trains were somewhat (and in some cases, considerably) backed up.  

Guaranteed to make the Swiss in me freak

Happily, we were able to board ours and make our connection in Munich, returning tired, safe and sound to Zurich.  Well, "sound" more or less, and already looking forward to next year!  : )

Official Glühwein tasting judges
Second Annual International Glühwein Tasting Extravaganza
11-12 December 2010 - Nürnberg, Deutschland

I'm not late; I'm Italian.

I've just come back from four days in Rome, where I had a fantastic and fascinating time with an ever-moving crowd of Italians who took it upon themselves to ensure I had the best Roman experience ever.  Aside from the office of EY Rome (very convival and very energetic), I experienced Rome within the warm and ever-moving cocoon of Chiara, Bruno, Luca, Lidia, Eva and so many others with fantastic Italian names that I cannot list them all.

For approximately two years and some odd months, my friend Chiara has been insisting that I come to Rome with a dogged persistance that I usually equate with teenage boys trying to get to first base or people who trek across the Antarctic.  What could I do but finally kick myself into gear, book my Swiss-ified soul onto a plane full of boisterous Italians and head south to graciously accept her offer to stay with her, Bruno (her fiancé) and Luca (her brother) in their flat in south Rome?

Having already been to Rome a few times, I could enjoy things like driving past the Colosseum and having a drink at the Campo dei Fiori wihtout going into a raputurous "Oh, my g-d, it's HISTORY!" touristic freakout and instead could focus on the finer ways of Italian living.  Chiara, my quintessentially Italian friend (above, right), was a terrific role model.  From her, I learned many things like how to look beautiful and serene whilst walking over massive cobblestone streets, how to drink a cappuccino in 3 mintues flat, how to properly carry on two separate conversations on two different mobiles at the same time, and how to find the Pantheon from the Piazza Navona (evidently they moved it).  And that's not all I learned!

How to tell time in Italian

Understanding a few simple things in Italian will not only make your stay in the Eternal City that much more enjoyable and help you to avoid confusion and frustration, not the least learning how to tell time. Below are some helpful phrases and their translations to make getting around easy and stress-free.

"Now" = sometime within the next 60-90 minutes
"I'll meet you at the gelateria 3:30." = I'll see you there sometime around 4:15ish.
"I'm just arriving now." = I'm on the same side of the Tibur as you are.

Keep your cool and resist the urge to call your dawdling friend if only five minutes have passed.  Instead, watch the Romans milling about, admire the impressive architecture and, if at all possible, throw your watch into the river next time you pass it.

Eating in Italy

St Peter's may cast its shadow over Rome, but the true Italian religion is food. My week was spent in rapture over plates of pasta, pizza, cheese, wine, cornetti, coffee and tiramisu. In flagrant disregard of the deadly sin of gluttony, I abandoned myself to the incredible cuisine of the Italian kitchen.

Chiara & Bruno also took me to Travestere, a unique quarter of Rome.  Amidst the bars and cafés is a small bookstore with a bar in the back where you can treat yourself to a "Shortino," a tiny shot of liqueur poured into thin chocolate cup and topped with whipped cream and sprinkles. 

(Editors note: evidently, "shortino" is a bastardization of the actual name, which is "shottino," or "little shot."  However, to quote my source who hails from Calabria, as "Romans are ignorant," the vast majority of people now refer to them as "shortini.")

Shortini need to enjoyed in a very special way:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VxlR-UxsjbA

Here is the menu.  For those of you who can read Italian, you might get a chuckle:

And speaking of religion, I can confirm that there really is a G-d, and I'm pretty sure he plays for FC Palermo.  Though he is a bit younger than I expected.

All the twinkling lights

Greetings to you all during this warm and glowing season of Hanukkah and Christmas! 


Warm Glühwein and roasted sugard almonds are keeping my blood warm as usual this December.  I made the annual stop at the Zürich Weinachtsmarkt (Christmas market) in the main train station, which is the largest indoor Christmas market in Europe.  I say this like it's this massive complex, but it's actually really not.  If you don't stop for Glühwein at every Glühwein stand (and if you don't, what's the point?), you can easily make it around all the stalls in an hour.  Soaring from the center is the massive Christmas tree decorated completely with Swarovski crystals.  Now, go get another glass of Glühwein and have a look at those twinkling lights...they start to multiply for magnificent effect. 


Swiss Christmastide is often filled with nuts, and Samichlaus (sound like Santa to you?) comes on 6 December and generously leaves heaping bags full.  Once again, this December has seen massive amounts of peanut shells ground into the office carpet as we all happily crunch away during the day.  I'm not complaining.  I really like nuts, my favorites including walnuts, almonds and my mother.

This Christmas I'm spending in Slovenia with Mira and her family.  Ljubljana has some of the most unique holiday lights I've ever seen; they're really fantastic and seem to be suspended mid-air.  Small children will be relieved to know that Santa can find you ANYWHERE, no matter where your parents may schlepp you and no matter what airport you end up stranded in.  He knows where you are.  Big Brother is doing his good deed for the year and telling Santa.  And that's a comforting thing to know when you show up at your friend's parents house for Christmas lunch and find out that he made a stop under the tree for you.  : )

We took a quick trip to Zagreb (Croatia) yesterday to enjoy THEIR lights (they made a good effort) and explore the city a bit.  I had my usual hyperventiliation as we crossed the border (especially this time because the chick on the Slovenia side actually tried to say something...which turned out to be my name), but it was a very fun if short trip.  Mira and I even got a few leans in.



I'm back to Zurich on Tuesday, but in closing I hope your holiday season this year has been full of starry nights, bright lights and all good things.  I'm starting 2010 ready to take on a new decade surrounded by people who make me happy and things that make my life worthwhile, and when I remember that (and actually appreciate it) I can honestly say to you that I hope you are as happy as I am.

And one lovely afternoon in September, Jana got married...

... and, wow, did she look beautiful!  I should start by saying that the excitement in the weeks leading up had been nearly palpable, since everyone had been waiting for this day for over a year.  For the lucky person sharing Office 251 with Jana (aka me), it had been a year hearing about dinner courses and nametags, flowers, annoying guests who don't know how to properly RSVP, yes or no to a veil and Mystic Tanning (we went together - it smells strange but it works).  All of this, without Jana ever turning into Bridezilla!  I have no idea how she did it, and pulled off a flawless wedding, but she did.  And so after one and a half years of feverish planning and growing out her hair, Jana finally walked down the aisle.

The church wedding took place in our favorite Swiss village, Dittingen, in the old church there.  It was small but charming and sat perched upon a hill in the middle of the village, just up the road from where most likely 90% of the world's Jermanns live.  I must admit that part of me was feeling the frenzy primarily because I'd been given the honor of singing the processional song as Jana came down the aisle with her dad - quite the responsibility for someone who has a manic fear of failure.

(Kudos to Pischel-pix.ch)

But...it went!  And it went really well.  No one passed out, threw up, went flat or made an otherwise idiot of themselves.  There I was, parked in front of this nice little church in front of some 200 or so guests (a considerable portion of whom happened to be my colleagues, including my boss Barbara who took the great pic of me and Jana above and Claudia, resplendent in a water color-splashed dress that I covet).  Martin, also standing at the front of the church waiting to begin, looked very handsome in his dark brown suit.  We had a little chat as I desperately tried to put off the inevitable before it was time to begin.  And then suddenly there I was, opening my mouth and singing along, telling myself that under no circumstances was I allowed to look at Jana, which I of course did and then nearly started crying.  Before I knew it, my little part was over, just like that.  And so we finished watching the ceremony and then left for the apero.


The apero was at Martin's parents' house just down the hill, so the the guests poured out and skipped downhill just as I imagine they've been doing for centuries in Europe.  The only things missing were the musicians playing the lute and strumming a medieval guitar while young virgins with garlands in their hair jumped about on the path with ribbons as we all made our way down.


A Swiss wedding apero is a time for chatting, photos with the bridal couple and getting slightly toasted in anticipation of the wedding dinner and dance, which in this case were held at the Dittingen airfield (remember the airshow?) above the valley.  After some good food, good company and a very good party (and poor Martin trying to teach me how to dance) - we cashed out early in the morning and slept the sleep of the well-partied righteous!

And while we're at it, September is a poignant wedding month for another reason.  On 1 September my parents, John and Mickie (at left in my favorite Parisian bistro), celebrated 30 years of wedded bliss and three fantastic daughters.  I hold that this is a good omen for Jana and Martin.  No relationship is immune to the ups and downs of life, but I hope that their life will be as good as my parents', which in my opinion as the Beloved Eldest has been pretty crazy (thanks to the Bretz genes), but also pretty fabulously well-lived.  Unless I'm missing something, and Mom and Dad are just really good actors, in which case I'm officially scarred and in need of a really good shrink.


Wedding season didn't begin here, and it isn't over.  Congrats to Lindsey & Nick who tied the knot on 15 August.  The Paris crew isn't done pairing off, either.  In less than a month Maggie is getting hitched, and yours truly will be on site in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin (how ironic, right?) on hand to celebrate.  Tune in next month for tales of the Parisian crew reunion.

I'm feeling positively romantic these days.  I really must do something about that before I start feeling the side effects.  : )

(Again, well done to Pischel-pix.ch)

Carly & Nature reach an understanding

I've never been the scientific type (or the math type, while we're at it), but I think I have somehow restructured the laws of the universe.  I don't think I can describe it in words, so in the spirit of my new-found discovery I've included a very scientific diagram of this Eureka moment below.  I like to think of it as the Law of Things that Usually Repel Each Other Not Repelling (the Things being "Carly" and "Nature"):

There are so many things wrong with this picture, I almost didn't know where to begin.  And yet, somehow, despite the odds, here it is - courageous and clearly a work in progress (kind of like the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, which is my least favorite construction I've ever personally seen).  Don't be alarmed.  It's unlikely to happen with much frequency, but for what it's worth it was actually a pleasant discovery.  I wouldn't have even made it if it hadn't been for Jana and Martin who decided to get married at the top of the world (aka Hasliberg, Switzerland) and I schlepped up there in heels to watch it.  The ceremony was brief but nice.  I'm always struck by how easy it actually is to get married.  You swear an oath that has to be the shortest of any solemn oath taken: I do / I will / Jawol / Ja.  And that's it, that's all it takes and you're in a legally binding relationship.  No wonder so many people get in trouble in Vegas.  Anyway, after that we had a fantastic lunch in the Alpentower restaurant and enjoyed a few hours of good company.  Then we traded our wedding finery for wandern Kleidung and made our way in down the mountain's slope in the middle of a breezy sunny afternoon.  (Above right: the happy Ehepaar)                                                                                                                                   

It was a lovely, brisk walk.  Along the way I had several full-fledged conversations in German and did my absolute best to enjoy all the natural beauty around me.  Autumn is settling in with her blushes of red and orange, but the slopes are still fairly green with just splashes of late summer flowers.  Jana's grandfather pointed many of them out to me along the way.

      

 

I will not claim that our little wander, though briskly made, was some mountain-scaling, gravity-defying, vertical-flying activity otherwise known to some as "hiking" (you know who you are).  Some of you will perhaps also remember that I recently tried a form of hiking last May with fairly disasterous results.  Despite the fact that I constantly tell myself and others that I don't actually care what Nature thinks of me, this is a lie.  I'm still actually somewhat depressed about how crappy of a hiker I turned out to be, so today was fantastic for restoring that can-do feeling, leaving me cheerfully confident in a shadow of some innate ability to move through nature and enjoy it if I really, really want to. 

It doesn't mean I'm going back to Ratitovec, of course.  I'm an optimist, not an idiot.

Various forms of "flying"

Last weekend was considerably action packed in a very good way.  This began early on Friday when all of our department schlepped out to Interlaken for a firmwide event.  This included (of course) the requisite dissemination of information to all employees concerning various work-related topics before our Chief led us to the festival grounds (yes, they were indeed called festival grounds) for the par-tay.  Several months ago, when we were initially informed of this event, they told us that any over-nighters would be granted accomodation in a tent.  Now, I'm sure you are all desperately trying to picture me in a tent and are failing miserably because the odds of this are about as likely as me becoming a nun in Iran.  This did not mean, however, that I was not going to enjoy the party.  It started off in the best way possible - they fed us.  And when I say this, I mean they truly appreciated the concept of providing delicous, succulent, readily available food:  Käsebrötli, chicken schnitzel, Turkish food, sweet and savoury crêpes, bratwurst, salted ham with green beans and fresh potato salad.  I was weeping at the bounty.  Washing it down was just as easy, with a well-stocked open bar for our drinking pleasure. 

We also had a team building activity - create a commerical using a random object (provided) promoting the firm.  Our object was a strainer ("water out, spaghetti stay"), and I must say our team was IN.GEN.IOUS.  The language lover in me was delighted that we even managed to incorporate "Welcome!" in TEN different languages!  Alas, we did not win, but I am trying not to be bitter about that.

The sun went down, the moon rose high, and we all went inside the festival hall for the musical acts.  Several groups had been brought in to play for us, one of which was headed up by the equivalent of a Swiss American Idol.  The band was pretty impressive (picture above right - check him, um I mean it, out).

The best part of any party, though, are the people.  We have the most awesome, rocking group of people in our department, and I'm pretty sure that we fly the highest at all work events (and this is not ONLY because of the open bar).  I have some of the best colleagues the world has to offer.  See how much fun we had?

Saturday, as you can imagine, required some R&R, which I happily did by treating myself to a pedicure (yay for LABOspa).  Sunday, it was off to Jana's for a BBQ and a chance to see the worldfamous

FLUGTAGE DITTINGEN!!!

(Dittingen Airshow)

For those of you unaware, Jana lives in Dittingen, "Weltdorf mit Herz" or "Worldvillage with Heart," with a lovely apartment providing us with a fantastic view of the airshow.  We had gorgeous weather and tons of fantastic food, compliments of Jana & Martin who hosted a slew of us on their back patio.  For those interested, also available were dips in the hot tub.  It was a great opportunity for all of us to gather outside the office with the sig others and friends and enjoy the last days of summer.  It was the perfect weekend.

I ♥ my people!  : )

London adventure!

I've just come back from an impromptu three days in London, the apex of which happened to co-incide with their hottest day of the year. You won't believe it but, it never rained! Because of the beautiful weather, I was above ground more often than I expected, but I still put my Oyster card to good use. I usually pride myself on being a world-savvy and subdued type of tourist, but for whatever reason being in the UK brings out the annoying American tourist in me. I grin excessively and have a constant and annoying desire to sprinkle my conversations with excessive "lovelys" and "smashings" and elongated vowels. I am constantly on the look out for little jolly and decrepit pubs called things like The Black Lion or The Horse & Whimsy where I can camp out with a pint and grin like I've got a screw loose at all the people talking about footie or whatever else it is they talk about. On top of this, I was always painfully aware of the fact that every time I opened my mouth I sounded as though my IQ had dropped at least ten points and that the English just sort of falls out of my mouth instead of lyrically skipping off my tongue...like theirs does. I hated this part, but I was undeterred, primarily because it would have meant speaking to only myself for nearly three days. I'm great company, but that's pushing it.

I arrived Tuesday and had an initial scout about town before heading out to Brighton to meet someone for dinner. She gave me a quick tour in her swank convertible before we had traditional fish and chips (and mushy peas!) at a restaurant near the pier, after which we took a nighttime stroll. It was also this time that I learned the difference between bread and butter pudding and bread pudding as well as custard and cold custard (subtle difference in semantics only). I admit that I am still confused about the various ways in which you can use the word "pudding," but I'm not questioning the people who gave me clotted

cream, BBC period dramas and the Royal We (an integral part to ensuring that you and your closest people are in synch on all important matters).

Wednesday morning I woke up ready to take on London, or more accurately Oxford Street. In order to fortify myself for the adventure I considered having a full English breakfast but ultimately decided against that because I am still somewhat suspect of baked beans in the morning. The weather was beautiful, so I strolled all along the northern parts of Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park, stopping at the fountains and the Long Water for a while, to Marble Arch where I began the more materialist aspect of my holiday. It was walking down Oxford Street that I encountered an overwhelming sight - The Gap. The Gap the size of my apartment building. I was overcome. My knees grew weak and my eyes nearly misted because I knew that in that store was a pair of jeans that would fit me and not cost a month's wages (though I did hold off). In addition to a few other purchases, I also bought a fascinator for a wedding in September, and I am working up the courage to actually wear it.

Shopping left me happy but depleted, so I picked up a sandwich and plopped myself under the leafy oaks in Green Park. After lunch and a brief rest, I was back on my feet down Queensway to The Mall and Buckingham Palace. Sadly, Her Majesty was not in residence.

By this point I was absolutely baking, so I did like everyone else, crawled over the lip of the fountain at the base of the imposing Queen Victoria Memorial and plunged my feet into the deliciously cool water while watching the throngs try to tempt the bearskin-hatted guards into cracking a smile.

I finished my day at Westminster Abbey and Big Ben before catching one of the famous double-decker buses back across town to the hotel. I sat on top but I didn't get to sit in the front seat, as all of them were already occupied by particularly annoying tourists.

By the time I got back to the hotel, I was hot, happy and hungry. After

dropping off all excess "bits and bobs," I went down to the corner pub, the Prince Alfred, for dinner. There I treated myself to some Guiness and cottage pie. I didn't really know what exactly cottage pie was, but it seemed quintessentially English, and that's what this American was after. It turned out to be very good and completely hit the spot. I camped out at the corner window with my paper watching the world go by, or rather watching it come to the pub on the corner.

Finally, before heading back to Zurich on Thursday afternoon, I spent the morning at the Victoria & Albert Museum. I enjoyed the fashion exhibit, which had some beautiful and incredibly ornate dresses and shoes from across the centuries. I also found the collection of Islamic art awe inspiring. It boasts over 400 objects from the Muslim world from Spain to Afghanistan from the 8th to 20th centuries, including the world's oldest carpet from Iran.

I also visited the Northern Renaissance collection (1500-1700) of chalices, statuettes and other like bric-a-brac. I generally avoid these types of galleries because I find them to be full of figurines of pasty and strange-looking people bending anxiously over yet another bleeding Jesus, and this always slightly creeps me out. It seemed to me that this collection, while obviously well curated, did indeed feature similar themes, until I got to the end where I saw a wooden statue from southern Germany (ca. 1510) of Jesus about the size of a small child riding on a donkey. The whole thing was set on a rolling platform and was entitled "Jesus Riding on an Ass." Evidently this kind of thing was common for Palm Sunday celebrations. The thought of this trundling about some ancient village made this an exhibit I won't forget. It also made me really glad that Jews don't believe in Hell.

(photo not mine)

I flew easyJet to and from London. I had heard about its wretched reputation (although Ryanair's terrifies me so much that I don't think I will ever fly with them), but I must say that except for the fact that they didn't serve coffee until we were basically landing they were a really friendly bunch and I was able to buy my ticket from the airport to the city and my Oyster Card (for mass transit in London) on the plane, saving me both time and stress. This was ingenious, and they have earned a little place in my heart for that. They also let me carry my baggage onto the plane as hand luggage on my way back, even though it took a small stretch of imagination to believe it would actually fit into that annoying box for measuring hand luggage dimensions.

So here I am, people, back in Zurich. It's still hot, but it's considerably calmer, and I'm looking forward to wrapping up the last few days of my summer holiday week doing pretty much nothing at all.