Munich: More than Oktoberfest

I finally got to Munich after a very late train (and you'll learn more about what transpired from that in a later blog). I chose to get a hotel within 5 min walking distance to the Munich Hbf (main Munich train station) and would highly recommend the Metropol Hotel because 1. the rooms are totally cute; 2. They have balconies with a view of the city (where I am writing this); 3. They let me go into the bar after hours and get myself a beer (that I am now drinking on my balcony writing this)!

Walking around Munich I may have let out a couple of gasps because of how prominent and intense the architecture is. It’s almost like a punch in the face...and it makes you feel rather small...I wonder if that is the feeling it was meant to convey...

Karlstor - a medieval city gate

New Town Hall (Neues Rathas)-Gothic Revival architecture; home to city government

Marien platz (column with gold Mary on top) and the Glockenspiel - 2-3 times a day it starts playing music and 43 bells go off with 32 life-sized figures spinning all around telling a marriage story of a Duke from the 1500's, complete with a jousting tournament + the story of Schafflertanz - a dance that started in around 1517 during the plague to give hope to people...I can't make this stuff up.

I got a notice on my phone about my train reservation from Munich to Venice - it was all in German so I copied it into Google Translate and...still didn't understand what they were trying to convey. Something about delays, cancellations, might be done today or yesterday or tomorrow, and Austria was mentioned. Anyways, I went to the hotel front desk and the guy read it (he's German) and he didn't understand what they were saying. He suggested I talk to the Information Desk at the train station (so good thing it was close). 

I got there, told the woman that I received a notice, she looks at my itinerary, starts typing, and hands me a piece of paper, "do this instead". Ok. This itinerary had me leaving earlier and it has "Bus IC" as one of the items...I used common sense and thought this was probably a bus. The itinerary included two transfer points of 10 minutes each. One transferring from a train to a bus, and then back to a train from that bus. When asked if we can actually make that transfer the answer: "da, you will be fine." (I was not convinced).

So what happened with the train schedule? In Austria (and I know some of Italy as well) they had a ton of rain the week+ before I arrived and apparently the rain had washed out some of the train rails. Many of the train routes going from Germany down into Italy require you to go on the Austrian tracks. 

I go pack up and head back to the train station, find my platform, and watch the little reader board thing to make sure it still has my train info. Person after person walked up to the same platform with a very confused look on their face...I knew we were in this trip together. There were many Americans, Australians, and English-speaking Europeans waiting for this train and we all started trading notes. Some people had no idea why they were booked on an alternate route and some didn't realize we had to transfer on and off a bus so we were showing each other where we had to run to for the transfers.  

The train that we are all supposed to get on arrives and we depart on time. I'm chatting with a couple from Wisconsin when we hear this very stern Austrian voice come over the speaker basically saying German tickets were no good on this train. This is a problem because all of our tickets were booked through DB (the German railway system). So, we just wait to see if we get kicked off and when the ticket person came they scanned our tickets and went about their business. We still have no idea why he was saying that.

We get to the first transfer in Rosenheim, hop off the train, and easily find the busses (specially marked with a crossed out train emblem). There were more people than trains and I was happy to only have a backpack. We leave a couple minutes late headed towards Kufstein. And then traffic happened...I mean, if Seattle, New York, and Los Angeles were to have a traffic baby, this was it. This was the baby. Our "10 minute transfer" took about 40 minutes and we were all sitting there watching the clock tick wondering if the train might wait for us (I know, that's funny, right). 

Quick note: The Kufstein area is incredibly beautiful and I might have to add it to my bucket list...never cared if I went to Austria or not, but now I need to go back.

We get to Kufstein and confirm our train is gone but a tall, well dressed (mysterious - not really, but sounds good) Italian man tells me that they told him to get on this other train to Innsbruck because there are lot more train transfers from there. So we go. And I see all my new friends on that train again. I really enjoyed these people. The couple from Wisconsin were retired, their starter home is paid off, none of their kids live at home, they eat at home and use every single dime they have to travel around the world. The family from Australia had two young-ish girls with them and although we were all tired we just kept smiling and laughing - because we're in frickin' Germany and Austria heading over the Alps and the Dolomites into Italy with some incredible scenery. It's hard to be upset about that. 

We'll finish this story in the next blog for Venice...arrivederci!

The Germany I Never Knew I Needed to See

From Zurich to Ravensburg, Germany it's about a 2 hour drive - it wasn’t a bad ride though in my friend's Porsche. We took the ferry from Konstanz to Meersburg and drank a cappuccino and ate a croissant on the short ride over the water. I love riding ferries in other countries and this one was fast and efficient. Right as we began pulling into Meersburg I started seeing all the vineyards growing on the hills...and as we got off the ferry you could see apples growing everywhere. Besides, apples and wine they grow a lot of hops and corn.

The small town of Ravensburg is still intact after WWII - from what I'm told it was because there was a bigger focus on nearby towns that were manufacturing airplane parts. It was a huge trading area and has a sophisticated, yet relaxed feel to it. Ravensburg is called “the city of towers and gates” and Mehlsack is one of those landmarks and is located in the highest point of the old town. 

After dinner we hit up a local bar, Gasthaus Rauberhohle, and had a beer and finished the night sipping whiskey, eating Swiss chocolate, and deciding whether I liked vanilla gelato with weird nut oils poured on it. 

On Thursday we walked around Ravensburg some more and then headed to Weingarten to the Basilika St. Martin because of the famous organ there that was built by Joseph Gabler and took 14 years to complete. After completion they refused to pay him what was owed but he had secretly taken out a piece of the organ so it wouldn’t play (maybe this is where the “pay to play” phrase comes from?). He eventually was paid and the organ became playable. Unfortunately, when we got there it was behind a wall as they will be shutting the church down for two years to do updates.

Fun fact: Gabler only built 3 organs during his entire career. 

After Weingarten we made a quick visit to the town of Lindau on Lake Constance. It’s a huge lake that the Rhine River pours into. On the Bodensee side of Lake Constance you are standing in Germany and looking across the lake at Austria and Switzerland. During the summer, on the opposite side of the lake you can buy tickets to the Bregenz Festival - an open air opera on the lake (added to bucket list).

I’m very thankful for my German friends for their hospitality and who helped me find the right train to take to Munich and then explained how to read the digital train schedule on the boards at the platform so that you get on the correct train in the correct compartment (I should’ve taken a picture but there will be other teaching opps on this topic). There are multiple companies running trains and some are local so they go very slow and stop everywhere, some require transfers, and some are direct with a few stops. I took the ECE train from Lindau-Reutin and chose to pay about $26 more for a reserved, first class seat (68 Euros total). 

I’ll stop here, and leave you on the train platform headed to Munich…waiting for my very late train.

Zurich: the Banking City of the World

There are banks everywhere in Zurich. Banks and high end shopping (which doesn’t interest me). Since I was only going to be in Zurich for a few hours I had planned on simply wandering around the city but my friend picked me up from the airport so we could explore together. I met Eberhardt and his wife, Ana, when I was a pinch hit support vehicle driver for a group of motorcyclists who did a tour around CA and NV in the summer of 2023. I absolutely adored them during the trip and promised them I would come out to Germany to visit - and here I am!

It was a little drizzly and rainy when I landed in Zurich but I had my winter jacket with me (more on that another time) so I was fine. I had a couple churches on my list I wanted to see. The Grossmünster is a Romanesque-style Protestant church and we were able to slip inside to look at the stained glass windows and Roman architecture. I also wanted to see inside the Fraumünster as it holds some Chagall stained glass windows…but there was a line and they wanted money...so we passed. 

We ate a little lunch and had a beer and continued walking around the city, to Lake Zurich and then made a trip up to the famous Dolder Grand hotel because Eberhardt had helped with the round additions to this hotel  back in the early 2000’s and it has quite a fabulous view. It is accessible by car but you can also take the tram that makes frequent trips up and down the hill to the hotel. I love walking cities but that would’ve been more like a hike and I was really hot because the sun came out (and I still had a winter jacket). And the tram reminded me of Hong Kong. It’s a luxury hotel for sure and has a golf course, spa, 5 tennis courts, limo service, a 2-star Michelin restaurant, an open air ice rink in the winter, and lots of beautiful art. It is a prominent fixture in the landscape of downtown Zurich.

I thought downtown/old town Zurich was very beautiful, but maybe a little too sophisticated for me. More to this day but it pushes into Germany so stay tuned!

Awful Good - a Visit to Dublin

I departed from Seattle 2+ hours late on Sunday because of a blackout or something in the Dublin airport that created delays. On my Aer Lingus flight I randomly sat next to a person with my same name who is now a new friend. She is a retired wildlife biologist and artist who has a business selling her beautiful drawings of nature. She gave me one of her bookmarks with birds she has drawn.

The Dublin airport is beautiful and customs was a breeze once I got into the correct non-EU passport line. (Regular security on departure took me less than 10 min to get through early morning - even with them going through one of my bags).

I slept some on the plane and was still pretty tired when we landed but I knew I could not nap if I was going to beat out jet lag (btw, I won). I only had about 6 hours to explore Ireland. 

My first task was to figure out where the Maldron Hotel shuttle bus was doing pick-ups from. I met a nice local who advised me to just walk there…it was great advice as the walk was only about 15 minutes and the weather was ideal.



Once checked into my hotel I took a FreeNow (like an Uber) to Howth Cliffs for a stroll. My driver, a Polish guy named Edward, dropped me at the end of a random road and told me to walk down it and at some point I would hit a trail…I watch a lot of crime shows so in my head I’m thinking, “this is how I die,” but also at the same time, “what a great adventure”. Edward was right. As I stood on the edge of a winding trail overlooking the Irish Sea, with a cool breeze blowing and the sun beating down on me, I felt invigorated…and grateful.

The town of Howth is small and quaint with a relaxed local vibe. The marina made me think of home and some epic stone houses sat on the rocks just above the water where people were fishing from and diving for things.

I love public transportation so I figured out how to take the Irish Rail from Howth to downtown Dublin. In contrast to Howth, Dublin has a fast-paced, vibrant city vibe while also feeling very chill (I loved it). Modern buildings are mixed in with old, beautiful historic buildings and there are bars everywhere. I turned down a street and heard loud, live Irish music blaring out of a packed Temple Bar Pub (not a local hangout I was looking for but whatever), found a seat, and drank a pint of frothy, delicious Guinness (possibly made in the storehouse down the street) while chatting with an American from San Diego.



I told some people this trip is like a European taster menu. When I travel I usually like to find a long term home base and explore from there but I loved my short visit to Dublin and will definitely be back!

I’m writing this all on a plane to Zurich to meet up with some lovely German friends I met last year during my stint as a support vehicle driver for a motorcycle tour. Until the next update…Slán go fóill!


Note on regional flights in Europe: they are STRICT on bag weight and size for carry ons. My backpack only weighs 20 kg and the lady laughed at me when I asked if I had to check it - their carry on weight limit is 7 kg.

Daily Faux Pas
On my flight to Zurich I ordered a coffee. The lid was weird. The flight attendant told me to keep the lid on when drinking. I wasn’t sure why she was telling me that. In the U.S. the little flapper on the lid pushes back toward the center of the cup and clicks into a notch. This lid was backwards. So I broke off the flapper and took a sip. Very quickly, I realized the cup is designed to produce a French Press style of coffee which I learned from taking a huge sip full of grounds. The mesh side wasn’t to cool off the coffee, it was to drink from...

A Wild Ride

It's been 3 short years since I last "birthday blogged". Since then I've lost a parent, cried with friends and family through numerous tragedies, all while working through my own newly discovered insecurities.

Those were the bad parts of the last few years. They were difficult. Really, really difficult at times. But one thing I have not allowed those events to do is to define me.

I've never met a person without insecurities. Ever. And if you say you're that person, I won't believe you. Because if you're actually LIVING every day to its fullest you will find that as you push forward in this thing called life, that new insecurities will constantly find you. They have to if you are striving for something more.

When you're pushing yourself to learn a new skill...you're never the smartest.

When you're stepping out into a new venture...you have no idea what's going to happen.

When you let some stranger cut your hair for the first time...you have no idea if they are going to make you look like your mom did when you were 7 years old when she had no idea how to cut Asian hair (love you, mom).

LIVING is full of insecurities, and I don't necessarily think that has to be a bad thing. But how you decide to move forward in the midst of those insecurities is what will define failure or success.

Insecurities are like tight muscles...if you just keep walking and stretching them, they will begin to feel much better.

Don't be a victim. I will never try to minimize what people have been through. Your life story has meaning. It will always play a factor in how you see the world, but you can't allow it to define you or you will never move forward. You'll find yourself blaming everyone else each time something negative happens. Depression will seek you out - and likely find you. You'll burn bridges everywhere you go. No one will trust you. It will be the loneliest place you can ever imagine.

Ask for help. In my 40's I have seen more and more friends turn to professional counseling to help them walk through different seasons and tragedies in their lives. There's a negative stigma that surrounds accepting "professional help" - one that looks at people as being weak for needing it. I completely disagree. My friends who have asked for and sought out help are the bravest people I know. They are choosing to face issues that are holding them back, head on. They understand there are people out there who need them - need the whole, confident person they were born to be - and they have my highest respect.

The loss of a parent (whether you're close to them or not) may be one of the most indescribable feelings a person can have. The only people who can truly relate to the feeling are others who have lost a parent. I'm not saying that to minimize the condolences offered or the tears shed by family and friends, but it really is such a surreal experience.

When my mom passed away, she had been sick for over a decade. I had reconciled that she would likely die sooner than she should and had a lot of time to prepare myself for the reality. It didn't help. I found myself shutting myself away and laying in bed for long periods of time. I started feeling and getting sick more often than I had at any other time in my life. I was allowing myself to drown in my sorrows.

And then a friend lost a parent. And then another. Then tragedy struck another friend. People needed me. A lot of people needed me. How could I hide behind my own pain and pretend like the world had stopped when so many people I cared about needed some of my strength?

I remember laying in my bed one day with the shades pulled shut and in the darkness thinking to myself, "You have got to get your ass out of this bed." And little by little I joined the living again. I opened my shades. I didn't allow myself to lay in bed all day. I got a gym membership. I started talking to people again. And some days were really difficult. The darkness of a comfortable bed was alluring in many ways. But I made a decision to not allow the sorrow to define me.

If you are reading this and it resonates with you, my birthday wish is that you take a hard look at who you are, how you see the world, and take inventory of the loved ones in your life who care about you. Get help if you need it. Allow people to love you. Life is a wild ride - and it can either be a dark, lonely ride, or one filled with bumps and sharp turns, but continually filled with joy. It's your choice.

For the Birds

I've never been a huge fan of domesticated animals. I believe animals should run around in their natural state, not in zoos or cages or stuck inside a house all day. And they always seem to misbehave around me.

Dogs always jump on me and lick my ankles while their owners shockingly say, "I swear, he never does that to anyone!" And don't even get me started on picking up animal poop with only a slim plastic lining protecting the hand.

Cats and I also have an iffy relationship. In my younger years I was actually attacked by one of our family cats. It snarled and hissed and then pounced on me, ferociously clawing at me. I ran and tried to hide under a thick down comforter and screamed while I watched its claws come at me through the material. It was like being in a bad horror film.

So when my friends decided to become chicken farmers I promised myself I would never help them clean the coop, feed the chickens, touch the chickens, or collect their eggs. They all have crazy foodie names like Snack, Donut, Egg, etc. and their kids love them and they find happiness in it, so what do I care?

A few months ago, however, the chickens started to disappear. Raccoons maybe? Owls? Well, one day while I was doing some writing on my computer, I saw some commotion out of the corner of my eye. I looked up to see orange feathers flying through the air - followed by a peppy coyote carrying a large, limp chicken into the woods by its neck. It had massacred the poor thing. Chicken skin and feathers covered the ground outside. At this point, the coyote had killed all but one of the chickens.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago. Four more chicks had been brought home and were put into the garage under a heat lamp to grow. Two black ones and two yellow ones. The yellow ones grew very quickly and just yesterday my friends decided to put all four of them into the chicken coop with the original hen. When they checked up on them later they observed the four little chicks all huddled up together. How cute, right?

Two of the four new chicks

Today after returning from the gym I looked outside to find one of the yellow chickens wandering around the yard by itself. I wondered how it had gotten out and after talking to my friend assured her I was capable of catching the one yellow chick and putting it back in the coop. I had just conquered an hour long workout...surely I could do this. I was a strong, confident woman!

I put on my slippers and headed outside. Having no idea if there's a "come here chicky-chick" noise you're supposed to make, I simply started talking to the yellow chick. It didn't run away from me and I easily picked it up and carried it to the gate. The big original hen ran over to the gate, waiting for the chick to be returned. "How sweet," I thought to myself, "It's being protective of the new babies!" ...Or so I thought.

The minute I placed the yellow chick into the coop that big hen turned into Satan. She started pecking at the yellow chick, chasing it around the coop as it gawked and ran for its life. I had no idea what to do. The big hen finally chased the yellow chick into the corner of the coop where it shoved its head into the ground and pushed itself under the fence and back into the yard - obviously how AND WHY it escaped the first time! I literally stood there in shock.

Chicken Farming Hell

After debating with myself for a few minutes on what I should do, I caught the traumatized yellow chick and put her in a box. Then I decided I must rescue the other babies. Armed only with my slippers and a short stick I ventured back over to the coop only to witness the Satan chicken chasing the smaller chicks around, stomping on them, and at one point pecking one really hard and then picking it up in its beak and tossing it. I called the Satan chicken a bully. I told her she was mean and that no one liked her. I tried to poke her with the stick, but she tried to peck me with that vicious beak. I was horrified.

The other yellow chick made it over to the gate and I quickly opened the door and rescued her. That must have made Satan's Bully really mad because she then went after the two black chicks. Cornering one of them, the first black chick went into survival mode and stuck its head in a hole and pretended it was dead. The other one got chased around and around the coop, getting pecked at here and there.

It felt like hours later when Satan's Bully got bored and sauntered into her hen house. It was only then that I was able to close the door and lock her in there. I rescued the two black chicks who, at this point, were shaking from the whole terrifying experience.

The four baby chicks are now safely back in the garage, no thanks to my slow chicken responses, fear of getting pecked to death, and poor footwear choice. But I saved them. I touched them. My hands were covered in chicken poop. I can say that my dealings with chickens in that hour was enough to fill a lifetime and my opinion of chicken farming has not changed...it's definitely for the birds.

The Reason You Should Never Back Out Of An Adventure

I'm partaking in some R&R this weekend in Arizona and while making my plans I decided I would hike and photograph some of the Grand Canyon and Sedona. Every single person I've spoken to says Sedona is absolutely stunning. But I've actually heard mixed reviews about the Grand Canyon.

So this morning when I woke up at 5:30am (don't EVEN ask - I have no idea...) I decided to just start driving to the Grand Canyon and arrive early enough to beat the weekend crowds. It was beautiful and sunny in the small town of Mayer as I began my journey - but about 30 minutes into the drive everything changed. The sky turned dark and it started raining. And it kept raining and raining and raining. The drive was about two and a half hours and it rained most of the time.

As the elevation climbed to 7,000 feet I began seeing white stuff on the ground - snow. "Crap," I said to myself. Crap because I wore shorts, KEEN hiking sandals and no jacket. Don't ask me what I was thinking because I don't know. I suppose in the back of my mind I had been preparing for the 100 degree weather in the Phoenix metro area later this week. Snow and 39 degree weather did not even register as a possibility.

But I drove on.

I parked my car and had a few moments of chickening out. Let's face it...I'm a total baby when I'm cold. And next weekend I'm getting on a flight that will take me a day and a half to arrive at my destination. I can't afford to catch a cold. And I probably should have brought my hiking boots. And why is my backpack so heavy? ...and so on and so on.

But then I decided to just do what I usually do when I am adventuring by myself and have no idea what I'm doing - just go for it. So I got out of my car, grabbed my jeans from the trunk of my rental and proceeded to buy what is likely the ugliest, cheesiest-looking fleece known to mankind from the gift shop (don't ask me how much that cost - I'm still offended by it).

I changed in the public restroom and then hopped the orange bus to the South Kaibab Trailhead on the South Rim. I'm feeling good at this point. That is until the bus driver makes a joke telling everyone to look out the window at the Grand Canyon...you can see NOTHING. It was so foggy I could have been anywhere in the world on a bus full of strangers. As we exited I started speed-walking towards the trail. I wasn't going to allow myself a moment to back out.

As I started the decent I decided that even if I didn't see anything, I was still getting good exercise. So that's good, right? Then, at about the 10 minute marker, something happened that always seems to happen on adventures - things changed. The fog started to lift. Bits of rain came down here and there but with it the fog seemed to dance in the Canyon and within a half hour a majority of it had lifted and gave way to some absolutely spectacular views. I proceeded to do what any good Asian would do - I took a lot of photos.

As I continued down, the fog lifted completely and the sky opened up presenting fluffy white pillows rolling on the bright blue sky. I stopped at the edge of the trail overlooking the Canyon and could not believe what I was seeing. With the sun bursting through the clouds and a bit of rain still falling, a rainbow had formed. I took some photos and then just sat on a rock in awe.

 

I am now more excited then ever to do a rim to rim hike some day. For those of you who told me the Grand Canyon was "so-so"...I'm not sure we can still be friends. I only saw one small part of it but I'm writing this hours later - smiling, and thinking about the breathtaking beauty I witnessed today on an adventure I almost backed out of.