Tag Archives: i am not a travel writer or a photo journalist but i play one on my blog

Der Rambling über Berlin [sic]

I spent 7 Euro for the privilege of going inside the Berliner Dom. Money so well spent.

 

So… This happened. I walked into the hotel and there’s this giant aquarium about 25 metre tall in the middle of of the lobby.

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Aqua Dom. I found this extremely amusing. Spent $15 Euro so I could get this pic.

 

A room with a view.

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What happens when a German, an Italian, a Dutch, an Asian Indian, an American and a Chinese walk into a traditional German cafe/bar/restaurant?

Have beers, lots of beers of course. Then make fun good-natured of each other’s country and other European countries that were not represented at the table.

#ProTip: For a greater does of fun, shout into the table “How about football?!” when with a European crowd and watch them ribbing each other.

When in Berlin. Muss man Bier und Schweineschnitzel haben.

When in Berlin. Muss man Bier und Schweineschnitzel haben.

We really enjoyed the food and atmosphere at Schwarzwaldstuben, a great, casual bar/restaurant specializing in Swabian food. Rothaus beers are really good. I don’t usually enjoy beer (gasp!) but I happily had 4? 5? I had Schweineschnitzel at almost every meal on this trip and none tasted as good as the gigantic one I had the luxury of polishing off on my own my first night in Berlin at Schwarzwaldstuben.

Of course, I paid the price of having Schweineschnitzel (basically fried porkchop) and beers at every meal for three days…

 

The Berliner Dom at night.

Berliner Dom & the moon

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Flying home from the Berlin airport was a very interesting experience. I marveled at it while at the gate area…

PSA: you’re to find out which gate your flight is departing from on a huge billboard while driving into TXL, ordered by departure time. Each gate has its own custom (2 windows) and there is always a long line. This is when status makes a huge difference. Once you pass custom, you’re in a tiny room with everybody. One pretzel stand. One tiny duty free shop that looks like it’s from the 70s. That’s it. No bathroom. I’m sitting here wondering what do we/they do when someone needs to go?!?!

When boarding came, a shuttle took us on a LONG tour of the airport and deposited us in the middle of the airfield, next to the runaway. My jaw dropped.

 

Thank you for the tour of the runway Air Berlin

The Instagram Diary

There you go…

Oversharing on the road.

p.s. Will continue until I get home and start the long winding road of unpacking and adjusting to time zone and crying myself to sleep because I don’t want to go back to work…

 

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Going Home. Again.

Waiting to get on a plane that will take me to Tokyo Narita, and then onto Taipei. I am making my annual solo trip back home so I can pack 359 days of homesickness, guilt and filial piety into a 3-day visit. (I will spend 3 days traveling due to time zone change and the sheer expansiveness of the Pacific Ocean).

As my parents get older, the necessity of going home as often as I could becomes unbearable. The anxiety and sadness I feel every time I see them though becomes unbearable as well. I long to see the joy in my dad’s face as much as I dread seeing his tears. March on, little soldier. That’s what I have been telling myself since I gave the TSA agent my passport and boarding passes.

I will try not to talk about feeling like a Godzilla as soon as I land in Tokyo. But I will feel that way while stuffing my face with food that I have been missing all year.

And I will try and send in pictures to be posted here (and below if the Flickr plug-in works). Just in case you wonder what I have been up to. *Megalomaniac laugh* *Megalomaniac laugh*

Love and peace.

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Shoot

A couple of weeks ago, I was in downtown Chicago with my family. We do that from time to time: using the hotel points we racked up from business trips for a weekend in downtown Chicago. A Staycation. (Sorry for using the stupid buzz word) After a most satisfying lunch at Berghoff where I was surprised by one two of the best Tom Collins I’ve ever had.

Berghoff is billed as a historic restaurant in Chicago. A classic. A landmark. A local gem. You know what that means. That (usually) means it is a tourist trap and therefore I was not expecting much. Following the theme of Lowered Expectations, I was absolutely blown away when I took a sip of the Tim Collins. I have been looking for a good, old, solid Tom Collins for a while now, and I have been to quite a few places where the bar tenders actually asked me, “What is a Tom Collin?”  Not making this up. Little did I know that I would have found The Perfect Tom Collins that one afternoon when we sort of gave up and walked into Berghoff because it was still open for lunch at 3 pm and was not crowded.

After lunch, The Husband announced that he needed a nap. (Don’t say anything. I know. Ugh)  I looked at the boys, “Well, mommy is going shopping. Whom do you want to go with?” “Dad!”

*Cue evil genius laughter on my part*

That’s how I got two hours of Alone Time wandering around the Chicago loop area by myself.

The streets were mostly empty.  I took my time, walking slowly, deliberately, yet aimlessly.  Occasionally I would stop, whip out my phone to take a picture of something that struck my fancy. Lamp post. Intricate carvings on a building. Wrought iron works. Brass decor on top of an elevator door. Of course, my idea of me being a great street photographer trumps my actual photographic skills and that is why none of those photos are featured here. Believe me when I say that the images are whimsical and beautiful and fascinating when I have them framed like this with my mind:

Click. Click. Click.

Of course, while I was taking my leisurely stroll, I had no idea that the pictures were coughcoughcough so I was walking around with the aura and euphoria of a street photographer exploring the beauties around me.

At one point when I stopped to take pictures of a wall scone outside one of those gorgeous Chicago buildings, a guy doubled back to ask me whether I would like a picture with the wall scone. I laughed and explained that I was simply taking random pictures of random objects. “Because I am crazy like this.”

Oh, yeah. I do say things like that to random strangers. I am indeed crazy like this.

“If you like Chicago architectural details, you really should go into this building over there,” he pointed at a building not far from the crosswalk where we both stopped at the light. “It has an amazing lobby with all the original details intact.”

Alas. (See above).

But all was not lost because when I came out from the building, I spotted a bride and a groom being led by a real photographer towards a deserted intersection. I ran. I was shameless. By god I was going to get that shot of the photographer taking a picture of this couple standing in the middle of a Chicago intersection.

I had just watched the trailer to the documentary Bill Cunningham New York and I might have been mistakenly inspired…

How ironic would that photo be. How awesome!

But when I got to within the optimal (photo) shooting range, I could not raise my phone. I was shy. It felt awkward even though there were others taking pictures of them.

I couldn’t help but smile because it was a lovely sight and walked across the street away from the trio, trying to look as if I meant to cross the street all along. As soon as I turned my back toward then, the little voice piped up,

“God damn it! You need to get over this! Chicken!” I thought to myself. “They won’t mind. People gawk and take pictures of brides all the time.”

“FINE!” I turned around to snap a picture and then quickly walked away, as if I had done something wrong.

 

Happy Monday. Or not.

In case you are wondering what the hack is happening to this blog. “I did not sign up for a PHOTOBLOG! (not that anything is wrong with it…)” My dear readers, my most sincere apologies. (And if you are actually happy about not having to read my ramblings, you are absolutely welcome!)

Just got back from our one week vacation from the Outer Banks in NC, and right back into Monday blues. I am still feeling quite disoriented. (Probably more because I have not had any coffee yet…)

Temporary cure for Monday Blues? Take two rainbows with a glass of ocean. (Side effect may include: wanting to repeatedly hit your head on your desk when the euphoria wears off)

 

Sundays in My City – SNOW! (What else do you expect?)

On February 1, 2011, at around 3 o’clock in the afternoon, snow started coming down together with the wind, fast and furious. The fortunate ones were able to stay in their own houses, waiting for the blizzard to end.

Before the sun came out again, the snow had stopped but the wind continued. When those fortunate people woke up on February 2, they were greeted with the aftermath of the blizzard and they picked up the shovels, started up their snowblowers and went to work.

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Unknown Mami

On a Clear Day in DC

At the in-laws. Can’t talk. I mean, it will not look too good if I remain attached to my laptop or my Blackberry or my fake iPhone, aka CONNECTED, the way I am at home. I can hide in the bathroom and tweet though.*

* I am absolutely not kidding about hiding and tweeting from the restroom… I sent a picture of the ladies room from Old Ebbitt to Wicked Shawn because she has been made to notice my strange habit of checking out ladies rooms wherever I go. I get excited about nice bathrooms…

And I absolutely love restrooms that make political statements, but only if they are left-leaning, liberal ones like those at the Luna Grill & Diner in Dupont Circle.

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So we “visited” the White House today. It was over in 30 minutes. No sightings of President Obama. I was absolutely crushed over that. We did get to see all the fancy rooms looking even fancier now with all the Christmas decorations. (This of course begged the question of: What do people SEE when there is no Christmas tree inside every single room?) We spent more time in the UNofficial gift shop across the street including having our pictures taken with the cardboard POTUS and the First Lady. Apparently, one of the requisite poses is of the famous photo taken of JFK at the Oval Office with John Jr. poking his head out through underneath the desk. Is it just me or has Monica Lewinsky forever ruined that iconic image for you too?

Nothing is allowed when you tour the White House; you are allowed basically your cellphone (which has to be turned off), wallet and car keys. When I saw a sign that says

PASSHOLDERS BEYOND THIS POINT ONLY.

I was so tempted to risk being tackled by the secret service and take a picture of it, for you, because the P was missing. Instead I have this underwhelming photo to show for:

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As a result of our trip to the White House, I spent the entire day out and about, including a jaunt to the trendy Dupont Circle, without my purse, i.e. NO lip balm, NO lipstick, NO compact, NO hairbrush, NO Kleenex, NO hand lotion, NO touch-up.

The horror.

I did take way too many pictures of the Washington Monument. What? I like reading the articles.

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This is turning into a travelogue, so I will stop, BUT not before I show you the most interesting thing I saw today. Kudos to my husband for pointing it out as a good blogging fodder:

At the Air and Space Museum, there is a small exhibit calling your attention with the intriguing question:

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Can you be a Stewardess in the early 1950s?

with 8 flaps emblazoned with categories such as Height, Weight, Age, Race, Marital Status, Education, Appearances.

5’2″ to 5’6″, 135 lbs. max, White, Never married, 2-year college or registered nurse, AND… [our favorite] Attractive – “Just below Hollywood” standards.

I have a phone (with a camera, like every other phone nowadays) and I am not afraid to use it…

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