Crossing the Border

The relocation to Germany is nearing its final stages.  Next week the moving company will roll up with a truck and all our possessions will be cleared out of our house in Ettelbruck.  Then, they'll hustle to get everything into the new place just before Christmas Day.  It has taken a lot of prodding and pushing to get the ball rolling on this process after The Company made its last minute decision at the end of November to move us.  Being that we're the first ones to take this assignment, several kinks needed to be worked out in the system and it seems the policy of the HR departments is to settle these things if they feel like it.  Thankfully, we have been hooked up with a relocation agency this time around.  Those guys have been absolutely marvelous through all of this.  The folks with the moving company have also been incredibly helpful and willing to go above and beyond to get us settled before the holiday.  While The Company itself hasn't been cooperative since launching this operation, we're very thankful that we have a bunch of other people in our corner who are doing everything they can to make this as painless as possible.

Of course, the most important thing to work out is finding a new place to live.  Last week, my husband and I drove over to the Frankfurt area to meet with our relocation agent.  Then, the three of us spent a good portion of the week visiting just about every rental property within our budget that was in a 30km radius of my husband's new office.  Whew.  What a wild few days that was!  Apparently, we are moving at a weird time of year (or at least that's what we kept telling ourselves).  Nearly every single property we looked at was in a terrible state of disrepair.  They were downright nasty.  We looked at a place that was designed as an office building.  It was a fabulous office building.  It would not make a great house.  I mean, you'd wake up every morning wondering if the dentist was about to walk in.  The kitchen was a sink and microwave.  Another house had a pool in the basement.  And, not only a pool, but a sauna and a tanning bed too.  Sounds pretty sweet, huh?  No.  This stuff was probably awesome in 1980, but apparently nothing had been cleaned since then.  It looked like a set from Cormac McCarthy's The Road.  Another house we looked at could have housed three families it was so huge and labyrinthine.  It also had a pool, in which a majority of the garden furniture had ended up.  The whole place was decorated with clowns, Jesus, and life-sized portraits spanning the entire life of some guy named Willy in all his afroed glory.  Another house's entire interior was painted black and burgundy.  It seems the former tenant fancied themselves living in a vampire coven?  My nightmares have plenty of material for the next several months, that is for sure.  Dear Frankfurt area real estate agents, please Google "staging" and "vacuuming."  Dear readers, I'm so sorry I have not provided pictures of these stellar properties for your entertainment.  I think I was in a state of shock and completely forgot to pull out my camera.

When all looked hopeless, we ended up in a little village in Bavaria along the banks of the River Main.  Swans bobbed around in the water and an occasional boat or barge drifted by.  It was a quiet place.  Someone pedaled by on the bicycle path in front of the house.  As we waited for the owner to meet us, the idea began to creep in that perhaps this area would be a nice place to live for the next couple of years.  I crossed my fingers as the owner opened the door and whispered, "Please don't be filthy."  It wasn't.  Oddly enough, this was the only property not being shown by a realty service and it was the only one that was spotless and freshly painted, in white.  We took it on the spot, hoping that it wasn't a hallucination.

The new place has a small garden area this time, large enough to enjoy, but not so large I'll be enslaved to it for the next two years.  We have a balcony once again, but this time when we step out we're not looking at garbage cans, walls, cigarettes, and pigeons.  We get to enjoy this view:

Even on a dreary day it's a beautiful thing to look out onto.

There isn't a bar around the corner.  Our only attached neighbor is a single, older woman.  The nearest construction site was four blocks over.  We're not on a main, high traffic road.  In fact, the only real traffic it gets are pedestrians and cyclists enjoying the green space along the river.  The house is the largest place we've lived in yet.  It has five floors!  We're still working out what to do with all the rooms, but there's no concern that we won't have space for the bikes.

The village is much smaller than any place we've lived, however.  The population is just over 4,000.  There are a couple butchers and bakeries, a few other shops, and a handful of restaurants.  There are, strangely, a lot of wineries.  A lot of people sell goods like eggs and honey from their homes.  The closest grocery store is 10 minutes away by bike.  The biggest city, Aschaffenburg, is an easy 45min by bike following the river.  It's a beautiful city with everything one needs for entertainment, cultural activities, and shopping.  The only drawback is that the house is too far from his office for my husband to cycle to work regularly.  But, thanks to the beautiful German highway network, the drive will usually be under 30 mins.  There's always going to be a trade off when you're moving under time constraints as expats.  But, he was willing to have a longer commute in order for us to be in a nicer town this time.  Being a little further out in the country will provide the opportunity for me to get around by bike again instead of on foot.  We're still going to be a single car house.  So, we'll be getting quite the well rounded experience in Europe with time living in a city and now time living in a village.  We're pretty excited to begin the new chapter.

Well,  more than likely this will be the last post for a bit.  We need need our new German residency before we'll be able to set up things like internet and cell phones.  That process usually takes about a month.  So, I'll be seeing you sometime in 2014.  Until then, Frohe Weihnachten und ein glückliches neues Jahr!

Moving On

Happy Thanksgiving to all my readers in the USA!  It's hard to believe we're back in the holiday season already.  While we are having a typical Thursday here in Lux, our thoughts are with everyone back home and especially with friends and family who we miss.  Sometimes we think that the holiday season is about the traditions, the celebrations, the to do lists, and the inevitable stress.  But, I think I can speak for all those who live far away from their homes when I say that the holidays are really all about spending time with those you love.  So, despite all the hassles that come along with this time of year, treasure those times and make the most of them.

My husband and I had a quiet Thanksgiving dinner just the two of us last Sunday night.  We are just finishing up those leftovers today.  We didn't order a turkey from the UK this year, but decided to just do chicken.  There wasn't pumpkin pie.  I didn't pull out the decorations.  Before you start thinking we've fallen into a holiday depression, let me explain.  We've been a little busy.  While normally we would like to have the usual shindig with all the trimmings, we spent most of the weekend taking pictures off the walls, sorting our belongings, and deconstructing furniture.  It turns out our tour here in Luxembourg is ending sooner than originally planned.  As things stand now, we'll be moving out of the house, out of Ettelbruck, and out of Luxembourg before the end of the year.  Instead of heading back home, however, we're going to be setting up shop a little further to the east, just outside of Frankfurt, Germany.

We're pretty excited to say the least.  While starting the house hunting process and getting the legalities settled once more feels a bit daunting, it's kind of fun to be at square one again.  We'll get to learn about a new place and culture, and new opportunities will present themselves.  I'm pleased to have more time in Europe than we thought we would.  This move means a bonus year.  Now we will have a chance to get to those places on our list we thought we'd miss.  It'll be interesting to try my hand with German too.  I mean, it can't be any worse than my French.  It's a brand new adventure and yet another chance to experience the blank slate of expat life.  My husband is the first American to be assigned to this branch of the company, so we're definitely walking into unknown territory and breaking new trail.  We certainly can't say this will be a dull experience.  This coming weekend we're off to find a new house and town to live in.  No doubt we'll be spending our Christmas break sorting the kitchen and unpacking boxes.  Once again, we're leaping into the unknown.

So, on this day when we think of all the things we're thankful for I know I have a lot to list.  It has been an amazing experience in Luxembourg.  We have learned so much about the world we live in and who we are just in these two years.  We've met and formed relationships with an incredible group of people from all over the globe, relationships that have been at the core of an overall positive experience here.  We have been to beautiful, life changing places.  We've had a lot of epiphanies.  We're so very thankful to have the opportunity to continue the experience from a new locale.  Most of all, we're thankful for the friends and family at home who have supported us on this journey.  It means a great deal to be remembered and to hear from them, especially at this time of year.  We know this chance isn't a common one and there's no way to describe how grateful we are to have been presented with it.  Thanks of course to all of you who keep reading this too.

Happy Thanksgiving and while we're at it, Wir wünschen Ein frohes Fest!

These Two Years

We've passed the two year mark of this wild adventure.  It has felt like two seconds.  It has felt like two decades.  We don't know what is coming; we do know we can never go back.  There have been moments of supreme clarity and beauty.  There have been just as many moments of frustration and regret.  The expat experience isn't something that can be written up and shared in a glossy brochure.  It can't be explained away as one thing or another.  It can't be understood completely by those who haven't been there.  And each experience is so unique, one cannot even completely share it with those who have been there either.  So, we end up not talking about it much.  Sure, you answer the questions from those at home and you commiserate with your fellows about milk prices and inexplicable bureaucratic hurdles in your country of residence.  But, the other stuff, the stuff that no one else would really get ends up being packed away, tucked in a journal, filed in that part of the brain that shapes who you become.

Two years. Two years that haven't been remotely like any two years before.  Two years that are so different from everyone else's.  Two years that you wouldn't trade for any other two on offer.  How do you explain that?  You can't.  I, more often than not, find myself speechless at their immensities.  I don't know if there will ever be a point when I can sum this up in a crisp concise way that can make any sense to anyone.  Maybe I'll just fumble with it for the rest of my life.

The good?  The good stuff goes on and on forever.  You can't list it all, but I'm going to give it a go anyway.  The best part is standing in the middle of somewhere you never thought you'd stand, looking at something so incredible there's a lump in your throat that makes you want to scream, "Look at this!  Look at this, dammit!  This is what it's about!" Or it's a conversation with someone you never would have met any other way, someone who in a huge or small way will influence your life.  It's the conversations you would never have in your hometown, big conversations about life and death; conversations that have you rethinking just about everything.  It's the moments that are absolutely terrifying, those moments where you are on the brink of becoming paralyzed with fear but realize you have to keep moving.  Those moments change you.  You don't go back to who you were before.  Then again, sometimes it's all about the calm, the calm that comes with being completely broken from everything and everyone that used to define you.  But, there's lots of good in trying to share what they're like with those you encounter in the new place.  It's the liberation that comes when you know you never have to see the same place twice, the realization that tomorrow can be completely different and even the mundane is a revelation.  The good comes when you finally can be who you want to be every single day.  It comes with the slow comprehension that this life isn't something you win at.  Each day is a gift to explore, and do, and live a life you always wanted to try.  It's immersing yourself in something you dreamed of being immersed in.  It's not about being the champion expat with the longest "been there" list, the cleanest house, the busiest social schedule, the mastery of the local dialect, the most well-rounded children, the best bizarre food stories.  That's not the good.  The good are things seen, heard, tasted, smelled, and felt that wouldn't be profound to anyone else.  The good isn't in the pages of the guidebook.  It's moments short or endless.   The good is the reason we're here.  The good makes us better.  The good makes us grateful.  The good has the power to tip the scales.

The bad?  The bad is stuff that can't be talked about.  It's not the inspiring things.  It's the stuff that has you screaming, not in joy, but alone in your room so no one hears it.  It's the stuff that you're not proud of.  It's the stuff that breaks you down to the brink of retreating into yourself.  It's the confusion, the endless, always present confusion.  It's being left, ignored, drowning in the confusion as other's walk along the river bank without even looking your way.  It's the sad understanding that you don't belong where you are and you never will no matter how long you remain there.  It's having the experience of being unwelcome all too often no matter how much you smile, apologize, and kowtow.  It's the loneliness.  It's knowing that your loved ones are going through life's ups and downs without you.  It's being unable to offer comfort in tragedy.  It's watching from a distance and being powerless to intervene as someone jumps off a cliff of a mistake.  It's missing the incredible triumphs too.  The bad is being just a cliche, a walking flag.  It's having to explain where you come from, a place that everyone already has an opinion about.  It's trying to balance that with the fact that you love your country and despite everything, you are proud of it.  It's the inner battle to reign in the incredibly angry side of you that can't stand all the things that would be classified as "idiotic/horrible/criminal/totally wrong" back home but are completely normal where you are.  It's bad knowing that no matter how you explain the bad, no one is going to take it seriously.  You're living in Europe, quit whining.  But the bad is there for a reason.  It makes us grateful too.  It teaches us lessons.  It challenges us to take it, mold it, and turn it into good.

These two years are all that and so much more.  It's been way beyond a trip to the sea, cheering at a cycle race in Flanders, delving into the caves of prehistoric civilization, climbing mountain passes in Switzerland, tasting rare cheeses in Paris, laughing with friends in centuries old pubs, visiting long lost homelands, and being moved to tears.

Being an expat is a mishmash of the crazy good, the crazy bad, and the just plain crazy.  It can't be explained in a way that makes any real sense.  But, there is one thing that I can say clearly about these two years.  I know that they have changed my life, they are vital, they are priceless.  I cannot imagine nor would I want a life in which they didn't happen.  Hopping on that plane over two years ago to take that plunge is one of best decisions we ever made.  They are our two, painful, gorgeous, profound years.  And that's that.

The Existential Trail

I was sitting on a ridge when I realized what I feared.  The path, no more than a foot wide, was exposed shale and the ridge it traversed so precariously, stuck out like a ship's prow into a deep and seemingly uninhabited valley.  One step to the left or right, and down we would plunge into the valley below with the weight of our fully loaded packs hurrying our descent.  The burnt colors of the Ardennes autumn were just making their subtle appearance on opposite hillsides and the scrubby bushes at our feet.  Occasionally, a cold wind whipped from the northeast and found its way around our packs and through our clothing.  We left our packs on as we sat on the trail eating our lunch, for if we removed them they would go tumbling down never to be seen again.

I had been secretly obsessed with this path.  Some inner drive insisted that we stand here at some point during our journey in Europe.  However, I did not know that this specific place existed until we popped out of the undergrowth and trees that completely enveloped the trail only moments before.  As soon as the view of the valley and the simplicity of the path was revealed, I knew that this is the place I had longed for.  I had expected to step onto this treacherous track in the Alps or the Skarvheimen, but not a few miles from my doorstep.  Yet, there it was, just as I imagined it.  And here we were, perched on the edge just I knew we had to be.   And that is when I began to realize what I feared.  It wasn't the trail itself or the realization that one misstep would certainly ruin the day.  In fact, it had very little to do with the place at all, except being there planted the seed of a realization.

What would happen, who would I become if I had chosen a different trail?  What if in my search for the day's trek I had decided on a course with constant elevation or one with fewer or more kilometers?  Or worse, what if I had settled for a guidebook's recommend trail.  What if we had erred on the side of caution to follow a course others had told us to take.  We would never have been here.  We would not be standing in that place I had imagined.  I would still be visiting it in my dreams, where mist covers the view on either side only a few feet from the edges of the trail.  This place only exists where we were.  Similar paths no doubt can be found elsewhere, but there is nothing guaranteeing we will stand on them.  This trail would become a regret, because it had never been followed.  My great fear in fact was not something tangible such as an insect or an animal or a disease or a gruesome end it was, as Thoreau so elegantly put it, "when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

Those who travel regularly know the value of a good guidebook.  They provide that much appreciated information such as where to find museum passes and sample the best cannoli.  But, many times we fall into over reliance.  We turn our brains off and blindly follow the tour presented in the pages of Lonely Planet, Trip Advisor, and Rick Steves' Europe.  First, we head here, then at this time we go there, and finally at the end of the day we must end up at this place to see this thing.  We foolishly believe that a perfect travel experience can only be had if another says it is perfect.  It doesn't matter if it's a well worn tour or something off the beaten path.  It is only good if it says so in the book. We cheat ourselves.  We close doors in our own faces because we don't want to believe in the possibility that we can walk through them.  We no longer turn our heads from side to side to peer around corners because someone has convinced us that it is not worth our time or what is down there is not good.

Of course, one of the great analogies for life is travel.  In life as in travel, we often turn to the directives of others in order to map how we will live.  I do not refer to one's world view, sense of morality, or religion (be it the belief in a higher power or the conviction that there is none).  I'm talking about how we decide to use our time on this earth, the trail we choose to follow day to day.  We all have things we want to do in our lives, but it seems many times we decide we want them because someone told us we must.  First, you do this, then this, then you must do this, because then this has to happen, and only then can you die being fulfilled.  What would our lives be if we allowed ourselves to pick and choose what we want from the standard formula and then turn down paths more suited to ourselves?  What if we listened to our gut more than the directives of those around us?  Would our mistakes and unsuspected tragedies seem as horrific?  Would we turn to self-help books, fad diets, and approval of others so readily?  Would we lay all our hopes and fulfillment in relationships?  Would we rest our laurels on our children only to be shattered in the wake of their departures or their so called failures?  Would we gather so much unnecessary wealth and prestige in hoarded piles around us?  These things, these acts, are so often prescribed as what life is about or what will flesh it out, but is that not dependent on the life?

I believe so.  Like a vast stretch of wilderness there are many trails to be taken.  If we all choose to follow the same one, it becomes worn, littered, graffitied, crowded, and uninteresting.  We, as individuals, are meant for different paths, stretching in all directions.  There is no trail greater than the rest.  It is nothing but tragic when we ignore our gut and allow ourselves to be swayed to a different path.  The greatest tragedy, however, is if we attempt to drag someone else down ours.

While the great trails of the world that lead to famous mountain peaks and deep clear lakes are beautiful and inspiring, that moment sitting with our packs on that ridge was not meant for those places.  It could have only happened there, in a little known valley of the Luxembourgish Ardennes.  It was perfect.  It was absolutely necessary.  It was designed for us and no one else.

So, I did not fear being there.  I feared not being there.  I fear consciously abandoning my trail.

An Open Letter To Bose Corporation

Dear Bose Corporation,

There is a crater where my road used to be.  The house across the street is an obliterated pile of rubble.  The days are filled with the sound of explosions and endless pounding that rattles the dishes in the cabinet.  The nights are filled with the sounds of heated arguments in the streets.  If I didn't know better, I would swear my house is in the center of a war zone.  There are pictures of my neighborhood after the Battle of Bulge and it looks disturbingly similar.

However, this isn't a war zone.  It's a construction zone.  Except for holidays and the month of August, the small city square I live in has been in a constant state of renovation since we moved here almost two years ago.  They've dug up our street three times in the last 21 months.  When one building is demolished and a new one is built in its place, they move down to the next address.  As I write this, there are two demolition projects underway across the street, one behind our house, and the third attempt to do whatever it is they can't stop doing to my street kicked off yesterday afternoon.  Occasionally, one of our adjoining neighbors to our row home (architectural creativity has blessed us with 5) gets in the act with a sledge hammer or a hammer drill.  If there is a disease that creates an unquenchable desire to tear things down and rebuild them, there are a lot of infected people in this town.  One would think that after quitting time, all this racket would cease.  Alas, the clientele from the bar around the corner picks up where construction crews left off.  All told, there are approximately 3 hours a day of peace, between the hours of 4 and 7 A.M.

While I'm sure there are some people that thrive in this type of environment, I'm not one of them.  During the week, my time is spent editing photographs, painting, writing, or editing video.  I need a quiet environment so I can, well, hear myself think.  At the beginning of September the construction reached a new level of intensity and I found myself unable to stay focused on what I was doing.  The only time I could get somewhere quiet was when I rode my bicycle out to the middle of nowhere or I walked up into the forests.  Unfortunately, doing that meant I wasn't able to paint, write, or do anything else.  I was becoming frustrated, irritable, and sometimes downright enraged.

Then, one day I walked into one of your shops and popped on a pair of your Quiet Comfort 15 Headphones.  At that moment, I knew life was about to significantly improve.  They were playing loud music in the shop.  There were other people inside talking at a level to be heard above the music.  But, when I flipped that little switch on the right ear cup, all of that was silenced.  I heard absolutely nothing.  It was beautiful.  I'll never forget it.  I think I may have teared up a little.

I've owned these headphones for two weeks now and I cannot stop talking about them.  I put them on as soon as the construction crews roll into town at 7 A.M. and I'm blissfully unaware of their presence for the entirety of the day.  I thought that wearing headphones all day every day would be uncomfortable, but these are so light and soft I forget they're even there.  Whether I have music pumped into them or not, they provide that quiet environment I have been craving for so long.  They are allowing me to hear my thoughts again, to focus, and to express them.  I cannot begin to explain what that means to me.

In short, thank you, thank you, thank you.  Please, give your Quiet Comfort development team a hug from me.  I can honestly sayyour product has changed my life for the better.  That is big deal.

Sincerely and with my deepest thanks,

CG

Prisoner of Constructionville

Boot Tracks

One day it was summer, the next day Winter was banging on the door impatiently demanding that Autumn hurry up and do its thing so Winter can settle into its 7 month (at minimum) oppressive occupation of the region.  With its thunderous arrival comes the sad realization that we're beginning another long slog through seemingly endless wet, dark months.  While it is tempting to retreat into a large chalice of Belgian Strong Ales until next May, we're not willing to give up on all the cycling induced fitness we were able to grab a hold of this year.  However, our focus has shifted to training in a different activity besides cycling.  While we still commute by bike nearly every day, the pace has slackened as we use our reliable all weather FX and Redline.  The road bikes await the distant coming of drier conditions from their perches on the trainers.  Weekend excursions are no longer to Belgian roads and cycle paths, but to muddy tracks in quiet forests much closer to home.  It is officially hiking and backpacking season.

The forests of Luxembourg are magical places, especially in the Mullerthal region (Petite Suisse Luxembourgeoise).  While the region is only about 7% of the Duchy it is full of gorges, streams, ruins, crags, and rock shelters.  Except of course for the castle ruins, it reminds me of the sandstone ledge areas of the CVNP, Nelson Ledges, and the Liberty Park Conservation Area in Twinsburg.  The Mullerthal is stunning and, in my opinion, best seen on foot.  

We decided to take hiking one step further this year and try a backpacking session in the Mullerthal next month.  While backcountry backpacking in the traditional American sense can't be done, we can plan nearly the same experience with a few modifications.  You can still tromp all day with everything you need on your back and camp in a tent every night.  However, the camping bit has to be done at an official campground.  So, the getting away from civilization aspect is out the window (civilization is always close at hand).  However, you can still sleep on the ground, cook your meals outdoors, and enjoy being in the quiet solitude of nature for most of the day.  For a true backcountry experience Scandinavia is a go to region.  Someday, someday we will get there.

Nevertheless, we are quite enthusiastic about our Mullerthal backpacking plans.  Except for a few minor items, we already have the necessary gear.  The trails are just minutes from home.  Plus, unlike cycling, it is an activity our dog can participate in (he put the paw down on basket and trailer travel).  With the arrival of autumn and the start of school, the holiday season is coming to an end.  In the next month many campgrounds will be closing for the season, but a few stay open year round.  European Campgrounds are mostly designed for motor homes and short or long term cabin rentals.  But, they all have at least one area for those that want to, eh hem, actually camp.  Of course, this part isn't free.  But the fees to pitch a tent are incredibly reasonable.  Some people have told me that you can attempt to backcountry camp and hope no one comes along discovering you on private property.  For expats, it's best to obey the laws.  Anyway, with the cooler, wet weather tent camping shouldn't be as popular at the campgrounds.

When you're not in the campground backpacking is backpacking.  Walking in the woods is just walking in the woods.  Honestly, I can't think of a better way to embrace the passing season.  Instead of fighting the arrival of cool, crisp mornings and rainy afternoons, we're rolling with it with a pack on our backs and making boot tracks.

A Guide for the Guides

If you live somewhere far from your family or where you grew up there is a chance that you may have visitors from time to time. If you live near a place that is a tourist destination, you can count on it.  Having visitors from home is one of the highlights of being an expat.  It's always a pleasure to spend time with family and friends who come to visit us in Luxembourg.  Part of the time is always spent showing people around.  We've had quite a few people come through since our relocation and each time we learn something new about being guides.  So, here are our top tips for being a tour guide.

1. Know your audience.

Some visitors may be seasoned travelers, others may have just disembarked from their first flight.  Some people like shopping, others art, others prefer trying new food and drink.  It helps to make plans that take your visitor's interests into account.  If they do not travel often or haven't visited your area before, make sure they get to see the big sights, even if you have visited them 1,000 times.  While the sights may have lost their luster for you, being apart someone's first visit is always a lot fun.  Ask them what they would like to see and do and plan accordingly.

On the same note, when you're walking around (and you will be walking around a lot) you may be finding yourself wanting to point out some sights along the way.  Your audience's level of interest dictates how much detail you should to go into.  Months ago we had some visitors who were fascinated by pre-Roman and Roman history.  For me they were sponges, greedily soaking up all the historical details I was happily sharing with them.  Of course, most visitors aren't eager students of early European history.  For them, it's best to stick with big names and dates that they would be familiar with.
We've yet to host anyone with an interest in cycling...sigh.

2.  Allow some free time.

Unless you have a minor visiting, adults are capable of doing their own thing.  Allow your visitors to do so.  If someone wants to go shopping up and down the Champs-Élysées, by all means let them.  You do not have to hold their hand every waking moment.  We found that planning some free time for everyone is really helpful.  Everybody has the chance to do their own thing and then we can all meet up afterwards.  That way if your guests want to spend some time in high end boutiques and all you want is a table at a cafe, everyone gets what they're after.

3. Pace yourself.

Some guests like to do their sightseeing at a relaxed speed.  Others down coffee all day and won't want to quit until about 3am.  If your pace matches your guests, cool.  If it doesn't, make sure you compromise.  If someone ends up overstretched they could wear out and tensions could rise.  That's why scheduling regular free time is so important.

4.  Show them your favorites.

Whether it's a hidden spot for a drink or a quiet park in Paris no one knows about, take your guests to places that are special to you, not the guide books.  For example, there's an Indian Restaurant we that we always take visitors to.  Obviously, they don't serve local cuisine, but the the owner and his family are fabulous and the food is always spot on.  We eat there almost every week.  While most guests are interested in seeing the famous places, they really enjoy getting to see how we live day to day.  Even though the grocery store is far from being a favorite place for us, our guests often enjoy a stroll through the aisles.  For them, it's a peek into our lives as expats.

5.  Provide some challenges.

Part of traveling is pushing the borders of your comfort zone.  Whether it's trying new foods or a new experience, travel is the best way to broaden your horizons.  Some people are more open to this aspect than others, but everyone should have the chance to experience the thrill of trying something new.  As a guide it's important to make sure your guests have a few challenges.  Give them the opportunity to eat local delicacies, encourage them to take in a sight or go shopping on their own so they can interact with locals and see the place for themselves.  Of course, don't abandon them altogether, but a little push for adventure opens the door for them to have memories that are all their own.

So, whether you live a few states over or on the other side of the globe, those are 5 things to keep in mind when you are playing tour guide for your visitors.  But, no matter what you do or where you go, the most important thing is for everyone to enjoy themselves.  While they are getting the chance to see new places, you have the chance to spend time with special people who bring a little bit of home with them.

Mr. Black Died Six Days Ago

I was just thinking about him, just talking about him actually.  I think Hemingway got me thinking about Mr. Black.  Hemingway and Black don't have anything in common,  except maybe the white beard, but there was something someone said about Hemingway that got me thinking about Black.  I don't even remember what it was now.  I was also thinking about Black because I'm reading poetry and fiction more than usual, which over the last few years had been not at all.  It takes a long time for the rigors and mindsets of academia to leave the system.  

Mr. Black taught me about perspective, texture, Dadaism, that colored pencil drawings need to pop and for them to pop you have to put your back into it.  I made one of my favorite pen and ink drawings under his tutelage.  My mother had it framed and it's still hanging on the wall in their back hall.  Mr. Black was one of the old guard and he tended to intimidate most of the students who encountered him.  He still lived in the pre Post Modern world.  His style hearkened back to ads you see in Time Magazines from the 1950's.  He didn't get in on fads.  He rarely gave out A+'s.  He grunted if you had questions.  He positively yelled at those who wasted his time or, worse, were wasting theirs.  He was a grumpy second generation German-American.  He was so much more than that.

He told me I had potential.  I could really create some great things.  But.  But.  I was holding myself back.  I needed to give into the creative side more.  I was too concerned with structure and rules to really realize what I was capable of.  So, he lent me fiction.  It was fiction they didn't have in the school library.  Eduction at that school went only so far and would stop abruptly before it would offend any sensitivities.  I don't think you could even find Hemingway on those shelves.  The books he lent weren't very good by literature standards.  He knew that.  The school would not have been pleased he was loaning them out.  He knew that too.  The point of the books was for inspiration, a tap to access the right brain, to introduce a young artist's mind to images and worlds outside the strict Doric boundaries of a private, religious education system.

Mr. Black was an ally in a soulless place.  He knew the darkness inside those of us who inhabited that school on the fringes.  In his own gruff way he taught some of us that contrary to what we're learning in the other 90 minute sessions, a little darkness is just fine.  They kept him up on the second floor in the back corner where they thought he couldn't cause too much trouble.  He still did, quietly under the radar.  In a realm of black and white rules, with a Victorian sense of morality laced with hypocrisy, with a collective soul as dark and putrid as the world that it judges, there was an art teacher who kept generations of outcasts, teen philosophers, dreamers, and timid artists sane.   He died six days ago.  He lives in countless doodles, sketches, water colors, sculptures, screen prints, oil paintings, and photos created by those generations.

I Found Myself Within A Forest Dark

When I was about fourteen or fifteen I picked a hefty volume off the shelf in my bedroom.  Like all the other books in the classics collection my parents had purchased for me when I was an infant, it was bound in leather with gilt etchings in the cover and golden page edges.  I have no idea why I chose The Divine Comedy over the other classics on the shelf like Wuthering Heights  or Robinson Crusoe, but I did.  For some reason the medieval poetry didn't stop me from reading through Inferno or Purgatorio, but somewhere I faltered in Paradiso, exhausted.  Like Franz Liszt, I suppose, all my energy had been spent trudging through the darker realms of Dante's afterlife and I couldn't put much effort into the final rewarding conclusion.  Sometime later, I returned to Paradise and finished it.  But, it was a disjointed reading.  Well over a decade later, I've returned to that same volume to begin again from the start.  "Midway upon the journey of our life..."

Alighieri's unparalleled work has had quite the influence on the world.  Some say he was greater than Shakespeare.  His original written dialect became modern Italian.  The images of Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven directly created the common held views of those places today.  The Bible itself makes vague mention of the afterlife, so Dante has filled in the blanks for the human imagination.  The Divine Comedy is one of the most significant works of literature and has permeated the Western psyche.  For example, I often refer to visiting the grocery store as a journey through the rings of Hell.

But as I began my second reading another parallel struck me.  In a day or so we will be hosting some family members from the US.  We've had many visitors come and go from our house since our relocation, but this case is unique in that these visitors will be experiencing their first ever trip outside of the United States.  This is a huge life moment for all of them, and I can imagine in many ways it feels a lot like standing in the middle of a dark forest wondering where to go.  Of course, here the parallel abruptly ends.  In no way can I compare a brief tour through the region to traveling through any part of the afterlife, let alone Hell.  But, thinking back to the first time I ever left home for some place more exotic than Niagara Falls, I do remember a sense of great trepidation, even fear.

There is nothing like one's first trip.  It's an experience that can never be repeated or compared to.  Everything, from going through customs to encountering "foreign" bed linens is a new and exciting experience.  While you feel like a fish out of water, you can't help but look forward to what's around the bend.  It's a rush, and at the end of the journey, brief or long, you find yourself a different person.  For many of us who keep planning trips, we're after that feeling of another scary thrill and the rewarding feeling at the end.  We never find the same one we had the first time we set foot off the plane.  But, the beautiful thing about travel is, it always provides that sought after new experience.  No matter how it goes down, we always come back a little more enlightened than before.

I have to admit, I'm very excited to be apart of someone's first step down the unlit path.  While we're certainly no Virgil, it is an honor so serve as guides.  It will be our first time serving that capacity to virgin travelers.  I expect that to be an experience in and of itself.  Hopefully, no one's journey over the next 10 days is anything like a Canto from The Divine Comedy, unless it is from Paradiso, of course.  My desire is for everyone to have a trip for which they are grateful to have taken when they "walked out once more beneath the stars."

No matter what happens, I'm sure to have a list of do's and don'ts to share with those who may be playing Virgil in the future.

Dungeons, Dragons, & Handmade Soaps

Summer time in this part of the world means it's also Medieval Fest season.  They range from small affairs to enormous festivals that draw people from all over the region.  These are popular events to bring children to so they can see jousting, hear some music, and watch all sorts of demonstrations from blacksmiths to falconry.  The adults like them because they're usually cheap, have plenty of food and drink, and they sport the best people watching this side of the Rhine.

Besides all the obvious reasons to check out a medieval faire, there is one other reason I try to get to at least one a year.  Believe it or not, these festivals are a great place to pick up some fantastic handmade goods.  Carpenters, potters, cobblers, soap makers, basket weavers, bookbinders, leather craftsmen, blacksmiths, and purveyors of home raised & crafted foods all have their wares for sale at medieval fairs.  Basically, these events are kinda like farmer's markets, except with choreographed violence and elaborate costumes.

At a recent fair, I picked up this leather book cover which the
book binder custom made while I waited.  The leather is local
and tanned with historic processes.  He also had bound books
with handmade paper and parchment.

Many of the vendors travel from fair to fair so they are used to speaking with tourists from all over.  Most of them are happy to discuss how they produce their goods and some (depending on what it is) can make custom products while you wait.  The prices are usually quite reasonable, and are a higher quality than anything you would find at a souvenir boutique.  Many of these items are also made in the historical traditions of the period and the vendors are quite proud that their products are authentic.

So, if you're looking for something different to do or are in the market for a unique gift or story, seek out one these medieval fairs.  There are even a few with a Roman theme, if you prefer gladiators and pickled olives with wine instead of knights and camembert sausage with ale.  One thing is for sure; you will definitely get a show.

The Essentials of Travel

We are often asked for travel tricks and tips by those preparing to spend some time in Europe.  Many ask, "What do I need to know that may not be in the guidebooks?"  Others need some help packing.  International travel (and packing for it) can be an intimidating process if experience is limited.  But, like everything else, the more you do it the easier it is.  Of course, even if you travel frequently in the United States and have the logistical end of things well mastered, the game is a little different for international travel.  So, what should you know/do/pack if you're coming over to Europe?  Here are some things we've picked up over the last year and a half that you may find useful.

1.  Get some good luggage.  Now, I don't mean buy a full set at the department store.  If you only have two bags to schlep through the airport, on the train, the bus, and up those twisty hotel steps, getting from point A to B is going to much easier on you and your back.  I bring two bags- a backpack and a small carry-on sized suitcase with wheels.  The backpack keeps my hands free to manage doors and the suitcase is lightweight and maneuverable.  Once I'm at my destination the backpack takes over as my camera bag & day bag.  Purses really aren't practical for sightseeing trips unless you can carry yours over your shoulder.  If you're sightseeing you will want a bag that can take a beating and keep on trucking.  I highly recommend one that has a built in rain cover.  You may laugh, but we'll see who's laughing after that afternoon flash storm in Barcelona.  If you plan on bringing photo equipment, see about getting a bag that can carry it safely and also has room for other things you want during the day.  Having to carry a separate bag for the camera is a pain.

2.  The most important skill to master for traveling whether you're going abroad or a few states over is how to pack light.  How do you pack light?  Seriously look at your travel plans before you start packing.  Are you walking a lot for sightseeing?  Will you be solo?  Meeting people?  Attending a nice dinner with a group?  Unless there is a reason on your schedule to bring a specific outfit, ie. athletic clothing, evening wear, etc., leave that stuff at home.  But what if something comes up?  Then have things that you can make work.  Focus on versatile attire.  For example, slacks that can go casual or business casual.  Remember, trousers are heavy, but good ones can work for many days.  Only bring a couple pairs (including the ones you wear on the plane).  Shoes can be a big hang up for people.  My tip:  Leave your cute wedges that go with that one skirt at home.  Pack one (maybe two) pairs of shoes that will go with everything in your suitcase.  Make sure that everything you pack is comfortable.  But, avoid throwing items in that scream "tourist" like your Disney World t-shirt and your bright white New Balance sneakers.  Think about it this way, would you wear that if you weren't traveling?  If not ask yourself why you think you need it.  Do you?  Really?  A safari hat in Rome?  We'll get to avoiding tourist behavior later.  As for toiletries, except for items that you personally need such as cosmetics, medication, or allergy free products, you don't have to bring everything with you.  Hotels usually have shampoos, soaps, and hairdryers.  You can pick up other items as needed once you're there.

3.  Here are the essential things I always carry in my day bag.
- Tissues.  Besides having them on hand for their intended purpose, they will you save from the inevitable "the bathroom doesn't have toilet paper" situation.  It happens more often then you would think.
- Hand sanitizer.  Some people think it's lame, but seriously you will find soap even less than you find toilet paper (yes, even in Paris).  Additionally, not everyone has the hygiene standards you do.  You don't want to take home a souvenir virus or worse have one strike in the middle of your trip.  Pro tip: If you're squeamish, pay public restrooms are much cleaner than ones in restaurants and cafes.  You get what you pay for.
- Pocket Knife.  You may need to slice your takeaway pizza in half, open a stubborn package, or do some minor repairs on clothing.  A trusty, simple pocket knife can solve many problems.  Now, keep in mind that there are more knife laws in Europe than the United States.  Traditional pocket knives are OK, just make sure the blade isn't spring loaded, double edged, or long.  Need a guideline?  A traditional Swiss Army knife is a good standard.
- Corkscrew/Bottle Opener.  I can't tell you how much time we've wasted looking for something to pop a cap off with before we finally started carrying a bottle opener on us.  Go for the corkscrew/church key combo so you can tackle any beverage container challenge.
- First Aid Kit.  A small bag with some Band Aids, pain killers, and antibiotic cream can take care of minor needs (careful with that pocket knife!) so you don't have to go on a pharmacy hunt.  Pro Tip:  24 Hour pharmacies are rarities and few are open on Sundays.  Carry the basics and avoid the hassle.  Over-the-Counter medication isn't common on the Continent, even aspirin can cost quite a bit and must be purchased from a pharmacist.
- Hard copies.  Even in the age of smart phones and tablets, it's still best to have a paper backup for your hotel/flight/train information, a map, and a phrasebook.  Don't expect WiFi and 3G to be as available or reliable as it is in the States.  Even if you don't end up needing it, play it safe.  Pro Tip:  If you end up losing your Passport, a photocopy can go a long way in the replacement process at the Embassy.

Some other essentials: An electric converter to charge electronics, a coin purse, and travel journal to stash mementos
and jot down some thoughts.

4.  Bring a camera that you know how to use.  Even if all you have is a smartphone, that'll do.  You will want to have pictures of your trip and loved ones will want to see them.  Don't run out to the camera shop and buy the best one on the shelf without knowing how to take pictures with it.  I can't tell you how many people I see with high end cameras that they have set to Auto.  If you want to take a camera but you're not into photography, just go with a point and shoot and save some space and money.  Pro tip:  Never, ever, and I mean ever, use your Tablet as a camera.  Ever.  No excuses.

5.  Find balance.  No, I don't mean start off every day meditating in your hotel room (unless you want to).  Balance your plans for the trip.  If every day is packed with sightseeing and tours, you're going to burn out, you will get bored, and you'll get cranky.  Have days for sightseeing focusing on stuff that you want to see and do, not what the guidebooks say you have to see and do (personally, I found the Mona Lisa to be overrated).  Schedule in relaxing pursuits.  Even plan on sleeping in one or two days.  You'll thank yourself for the breaks.  Even if you love cities, still make sure you get out into the countryside so you can see more traditional culture, the natural beauty of Europe,  and be in a more relaxing environment for a little down time.

6.  Be a tourist without being one.  Don't be the ugly American.  Travelers that have fully embraced the tourist look are targets for pickpockets and they are incredibly annoying for the rest of us.  There's more to this than what you wear.  Body language and public behavior are just as important.  Besides leaving your safari hat and Hawaiian shirt at home, pay attention to what you are doing when you're out and about.  Watch where you are walking.  Take a note of how locals cross streets and interact in public.  If you need to consult a map, don't suddenly stop without warning to do so in the middle of the crowded town square.  A confused group of people turning round and round pointing at stuff is a dead giveaway.  It's OK to be confused, just don't make it obvious that you are.  Also, match your speaking volume to those around you.  This is a courtesy thing.  We Americans can be be pretty loud, especially at meal times.  While that is fine at Applebee's, it is extremely inappropriate in just about every European restaurant.  Pro Tip:  While they may not always admit it, many Europeans can understand English.  So, while you may not be able to understand their conversations, there's a good chance they can understand yours.  Don't be a jerk.

7.  Shop outside the box.  Whether you're picking up something for yourself or a gift for someone back home, look for things that are locally made and representative of the place.  Even better, look for something you can use back home so every time you do you can remember your trip.  Boutiques, art districts, and markets are the places to go for these items.  If you're lucky you can talk to the craftsman and get a more personal take on your purchase.

8.  Rent houses or apartments instead of staying in hotels.  Believe it or not, in most cases short term rentals will be significantly cheaper than a hotel for the same amount of time.  With a rental you can get more space and more options.  Many of them have kitchens so you can save a ton of money (and have more fun) by going to the local market and cooking up some regional products a couple evenings during your stay.  Most landlords are also locals and if you can communicate (many speak English), they can answer questions and give ideas that a concierge may not know.  Plus, your money isn't going to a big hotel chain, but right into the local economy.  With websites like HomeAway you can set all sorts of criteria in your search from pet friendly to internet access.

9.  Take the roads less traveled.  Public transportation systems in most Europe are lightyears beyond those in the States and it can usually be figured out easily.  But, if you do plan on getting a car for a more flexible travel schedule, get a GPS and don't be afraid to set it to "Avoid Highways."  Highway congestion, especially in summer, is as bad as morning rush hour but it lasts all day (and no, not just around Brussels).  By jumping off the highway you usually add very little travel time and you get to see the countryside and cool little spots you would never have come across.  Sometimes these little adventures are the best part of the trip!

10.  Attitude is everything.  If you step off the plane terrified of where you're headed, you aren't going to have a lot of fun.  If you go by cultural stereotypes you are going to miss out on meeting a lot of cool people.  Sure, there are jerks out there, but remember there are jerks in your hometown too.  Learn a few words of the language; the big ones- Please, thank you, hello, and goodbye.  Showing respect goes a long way with everyone.  Smile when you interact with people.  If they're not used to talking in your language, they are probably a little uncomfortable too.  If you start everyday with a good attitude and ready for a little adventure, you will have a well-rounded experience and you'll have a blast.

So, those are my ten big tips for traveling in Europe, and, I guess, traveling in general.  Hope they help you on your trips.  The important thing is being willing to ditch the all-inclusive resorts, the theme parks, and the cruise ships and get out there.  Traveling abroad will change your life.  Enjoy the journey!

The One About Chocolate

We all love chocolate.  OK, some of you out there don't, which I find very perplexing.  Anyway, most of us out there love chocolate.  Some of us, including myself, have rather strong feelings about it.  Except for special exceptions, dessert isn't dessert if there is no chocolate involved.  Now, in the quest for a more healthy lifestyle, the love of chocolate can be a bit of a hang up.  Tragically, one must pass on the delicious ice creams (sometime let me tell you about the glory of Mövenpick), in favor of healthier desserts.  Thankfully, chocolate can still make an appearance in the dessert bowls of those who love it dearly.

Chocolate, and when I say chocolate I mean Dark Chocolate, is known for its health benefits.  According to the Cleveland Clinic, consumption of dark chocolate that has not been overly refined in the production process can help lower bad cholesterol (LDL) and lower blood pressure, which increases blood flow throughout the body- which decreases the chance of heart attacks and strokes.  Dark chocolate is also rich in antioxidants which combat inflammation and it helps to raise insulin sensitivity in the blood, which helps your body process carbohydrates with more efficiency. For those leading an athletic lifestyle these benefits are particularly attractive.  Of course, you can't stuff yourself with it either.  The Cleveland Clinic recommends eating just an ounce (28g) a couple times a week. You also need to keep an eye on the label.  Sixty to seventy percent dark is where you want to start, if you can tolerate a stronger percentage that's even better.  Go any lower than 60% and you're mostly just getting other additives and not the ingredients you're after.  Don't even bother with Milk or White chocolates. Thankfully, several high end chocolate manufactures produce bars within these requirements.

One widely available brand, Lindt from Switzerland, produces a range of bars under the Excellence label that begin in 70% level and go all the way up to the 99% cocoa level.  Lindt is my personal go to choice because I can usually find it everywhere I go, from the American Midwest to Alpine Villages to the coast of Spain.  Other brands, such as Green & Black's, aren't as widely available.

http://www.lindtusa.com/index-exec/

The Excellence line can be found in nearly every grocery store in the United States and Europe.  Of course, this line also includes a wide variety of flavored bars- everything from wasabi paste to strawberry.  These flavored bars have a reduced percentage of cocoa, so they don't have the same level of healthy ingredients as the pure bars.  However, with many of the flavors coming from natural, non-sugary sources, I don't have a problem enjoying them from time to time too.  Sea Salt, Chili, and Mint are my personal favorites.  The flavors come from including the natural ingredient directly into the chocolate, instead of using synthetic syrups.  For example, the Intense Orange bar contains dried orange bits.

The Lindt Excellence line can take care or your chocolate fix in it's preferred, healthful form.  Two squares are 20 grams, your recommended serving.  So, if you love chocolate and want to make it apart of your diet in a healthy way, I recommend keeping an eye out for Lindt's Excellence.  No doubt you'll find something to relish amongst the selection.

How My Bike Is Saving My Life

The 100th Tour de France begins tomorrow.  For cycling fans this is what the year comes down to.  For the rest of the world, this is the only professional race they have heard of.  Rightly so.  It's a doozy.  While I waited along with you for the Tour of Tours to begin, I've spent a lot of time over the last few days thinking not so much about this upcoming competition or even the professional level of road racing.  Instead, I've been thinking about my personal relationship with the bicycle.  As the great race begins, we all enter into the second half of 2013.  Halfway through the year seems like a good time to assess how far we've come, with an eye to where we're headed.  The bicycle and I have come a long way together and I'm not just talking the kilometers we've travelled.  Like any journey, the past six months have been about more than distance covered.

Last week, my husband and I traveled home to Akron, Ohio.  We had been looking forward to this trip for quite a long time, probably about 6 months actually.  A year had passed since we had been home.  A lot had happened in that year.  We experienced things and saw places we'd only ever read about.  It had been, without a doubt, an incredible 365 days.  But, despite all that, we were really looking forward to visiting the familiar again.  We couldn't wait to see friends and family.  We looked forward to all sorts of things about home, not the least of which being all the edible delights.  Of course, we were looking forward to shopping too.  I was going to go to Walgreens for Band-Aids at midnight, just because I could.  But, one of the things I was most looking forward to was my annual checkup with my general practitioner.  Yeah, I know that sounds really bizarre.  It's true, though.  I couldn't wait to sit down with my doctor and chat about how my health had changed since the big move to Lux.

Never thought this rather lifeless view of the old hometown would warm the cockles of my heart.

The past six months have been, well, all about the bike.  I was determined to be at or very darned near a place physically where I could ride all day, every day.  I wanted to become a cyclist.  Really.  Through that process I wanted to get in the best shape of my life.  Ever.  Why?

I don't want to jostle for position in a crit or suffer through a stage race.  While I love to watch the competition, to me participating in such an event is about as desirable as a root canal.  I don't even want a QOM on Strava.  Heck, when I was a kid I'd intentionally misspell words in spelling B's so I wouldn't have to go head to head with my friends in front of the school.  The way I see it, we have enough conflict with others in life without purposefully inducing it.  But that's just the way I feel.  I have complete respect for healthy competition and those who participate in it, especially in sport.  But competition is not why I climb on the bike every day.  So, why am I here?

I don't want to wake up one morning wondering how I let things go so far.  I don't want to be popping pills for conditions I could have avoided by just living a healthy lifestyle.  I don't want to be held back from things I want to do whenever I want to do them.  I don't want to look back on my life at some point and regret a wasted youth.  In short, I want to live.  I want to live my life until the moment I finally clock out of here.

I'd made some mistakes that if continued could derail those hopes.  I knew from experience that the bicycle was going to be my ticket to correcting those mistakes.  We all have something, some sort of physical activity that we can do and love doing.  We just need to figure out what it is and then run with it.  For some it's team sports, for others it's solo sports.  For some it's the joy of competing against our peers, for other's it's the joy of competing against ourselves that keeps us coming back.  I never had a doubt about which sport was my thing.  It has always been the bike.  Figuring out exactly how the bike would become my thing has been a longer decision.  The bicycle isn't really like any other piece of sports equipment out there.  It can be used in so many different ways and in so many different disciplines that sometimes finding the one that fits takes a while.  I started on the bike with an interest in transportation that branched into recreation.  Being in Lux simplified things significantly.  I've had the means to discover a real love for road cycling.  So, road cycling is what the bicycle has become for me.  Sure, I'll still take the FX to the store, but when I think of cycling it's me alone (or with my husband), crouched over the drops, on a road somewhere, pushing myself.  Pushing myself to live.

The process started on January 1st, like all good resolutions do, and despite travel and illness it has
continued (miraculously) right up to today.  So, I was pretty excited to see how things stacked up with my doctor's records from the end of 2011.  When the first thing she said to me was, "Whatever you're doing, keep on doing it," I knew things looked good.  Blood pressure, heart rate, and cholesterol numbers have dropped and are exactly (and in some cases better than) where she wants them to be.  But the big story here is weight.  I've lost 40 lbs since I saw her in December 2011.  Thirty of them were lost since January of this year.  That's a big deal.

Everything has its specific place
in my diet.  In espresso's case, it's pre or mid-ride.

Obviously, it isn't just riding my bike that has gotten me to this point.  I wanted to redesign my life around the bike, not just make the bike a part of my life.  To do that I had to change the way I approached what I put in my body and how I helped it recover.  I totally changed the way I ate, from something that usually was the highlight of my day to something that helped me with what was now the highlight of the day- my ride.  High fat, high cholesterol foods weren't going to do me many favors on the bike, so they got reduced on the roster in favor of lean proteins, healthy carbs and other foods that are more efficient fuels.  Cheese, for example, while being one of my most appreciated foods had to be approached differently.  I wasn't going to cut it out all together (no need to be crazy), but I made it something I could enjoy more by giving it a different status in my diet- a special treat to be savored and appreciated, not tossed down without a second thought.  Beer had to be approached differently too.  Once again, I wasn't going to stop drinking it.  I was going to drink it differently.  Instead of going for a local pilsner, I only have beer when there's something available I haven't tried yet or I really like.  If a place doesn't have anything that meets my standards, I'll go for the water instead.  I'd rather wait for something more interesting.  Beer, in fact, is an excellent recovery drink.  So, after some of my more long and hot (there was a week here of proper summer temps) Womens 100 training rides, I'd reward myself with a small beer as a recovery aid.  Truth be told, I didn't cut anything out of my diet completely.  I didn't go vegetarian, paleo, carb free, or sugar free.  I didn't hold back on vacations either.  I use foods for how they can benefit me in my goal to be a cyclist.  Pretty much all foods can help in that process as long as they're used correctly, even bacon can have a role.

Recovery became extremely important too.  I made sure not to go overboard with the cycling, which can be hard to do when you really love it.  I listened to my body.  If something was hurting, I'd back off, do what needed to be done so it could heal, then figure out how to avoid the pain coming back in the future.  I made sure to get plenty of sleep.  I'd shape my meals around fuel and recovery, by eating things before my ride that will help my ride and eating certain things afterwards to help my muscles recover and heal.

I also started noticing some unexpected side-effects.  Cycling has given what could easily become a disjointed purposeless existence as an unemployed expat a focus.  Sure, I have my other interests and hobbies, but skipping out on photography for a few weeks isn't going to have a major negative impact on my health.  The bike keeps me on track.  It gets me up on time and in bed at a decent hour at night.  Additionally, there are mental health benefits to pedaling every day.  Something that they don't tell you in the expat brochure is that a majority of Americans struggle with being in Luxembourg for a long period of time.  Many end up on anti-depressants.  Why?  Well, it's probably for a number of reasons.  Luxembourg is not like the States.  I'm not saying it's a bad place, it's just very different and getting used to it can be hard to deal with.  The weather itself is no doubt a huge factor.  Thankfully, we come from a place in Northeast Ohio that's almost as overcast, but even the endless days of grey rain begin to take their toll on us.  Of course, it probably just comes down to living somewhere far from home, living a completely different lifestyle, and having to handle things you've never dealt with before.  You get lonely.  You get low.  But, at least for me, getting on the bike everyday has thus far combated that low feeling.  It's not just the known mental health benefits of daily exercise that have been there.  I think it has more to do with getting me out in this beautiful country.  During every ride there is a moment when I look up and say, "Wow, I can't believe I get to do this today.  Here.  I'm so incredibly blessed."  After those ride rides that totally kick my butt and then kick me when I'm down I can't help but think, "Europe is beating that crap out of me.  That's still pretty cool."

Have I met my goal of becoming a cyclist?  Yeah, I think so.  I certainly have the tan lines.  But, I have further to go.  That's the really cool thing about cycling.  There's always something else to look forward to.  The Womens 100 ride is next weekend.  When that's over, I'd like to keep up that level of riding to the winter.  When next year comes around, perhaps the goal will be doing 100 Miles instead of 100K.  Someday I want to get to a place with climbing that doesn't feel completely excruciating.   I'd like to look at almost any road, shrug, swing the leg over, clip in, and begin cranking those pedals with more excitement than trepidation.  But, I'd like a road to be out there somewhere that still holds a little dread.
 
Cuz, ya know, that's living.

Do Not Let These Roads Deceive You

We all have those rides that are just perfect.  From the moment we clip in to the final dismount, every moment is a joy.  Perfect rides are uncommon things.  We treasure every single one.

Just one of the views from the roads of the Belgian Ardennes.

It was no surprise to us that one of these rides would happen in Belgium.  I'm not going to tell you the specific route, except that it was around Bastogne.  The roads were devoid of all types of traffic and, well, I'd like to keep it that way.  There's something sweet about clicking into the big ring, getting down in the drops and just going, going for kilometer after kilometer without a care in the world.  We had that for 50kms.  When we weren't in the big ring, we were climbing.  Those climbs were steep and choppy, but clear to attack from whatever angle and pace that worked.  The only other traffic we encountered besides fellow cyclists was a tractor at the bottom of a descent and a tethered horse chilling on the MPU at the end of the ride.  They weren't your common obstacles, but at least they were few.  While it had been threatening rain and thunderstorms, we had hours of sunny bliss.  The storm finally arrived after we returned to our house in Ettelbruck, cleaned up, and had cold Belgian beers in hand.  We couldn't have asked for a better day.

The Bastogne region is a special place.  Cycling fans know it because it is host to La Doyenne, the old Liège-Bastogne-Liège race.  Those who are familiar with a little WWII history know it for being the center of the action during the Battle of the Bulge.  Nearly seventy years later, The War is still a raw memory in these parts.  Even where we live, further to the southeast, the memorials to resistance fighters and liberators dot the landscape.  The church in our town still bears the scars of mortars and bullets.  Plaques are on every corner.  The old synagogue behind our house no longer serves its original purpose.  It is now rented out for meetings and special occasions.  It doesn't take a history expert to figure out why.  There's a picture in the museum a few streets over that shows our street in 1944.  All it shows is one building and a pile of rubble.  Ettelbruck likes to be known as Patton Town, in honor of the famous General who coordinated its liberation on Christmas Day 1944.  There's a big statue erected in his honor just outside the city limits.  All along the line, towns like Ettelbruck were hit hard during Hitler's last attempt to push back against the Allies moving towards Berlin.  There doesn't seem to be any desire to forget that, nor the sacrifices made by allied soldiers and local resistance fighters.

The situation in Bastogne during Christmas 1944.

Bastogne in particular is remembered for being a town under siege.  From December 20-27, 1944 members of the 82nd and 101st Airborne along with the 10th Armored Division became encircled around the town by the Nazis.  They didn't have enough supplies or ammunition because supply drops were stalled due to snow and thick fog.  Despite heavy barrages and hand to hand combat within Bastogne, it never fell to Hitler's forces.  Eventually, with the arrival of Patton's Third Army Bastogne was officially liberated.  It is probably one of the most famous battles in military history and is definitely one of the most significant of World War II.  From that moment on, Hitler didn't have a chance.

The massive Mardasson Memorial above Bastogne commemorates the besieged defenders
who held the town despite heavy Nazi offense during Christmas 1944.

The main historic site, the Mardasson Memorial Visitor Center, is currently closed for remodeling.  The Memorial itself is still open for viewing.  However, down in Bastogne itself there is a small but professionally designed exhibit called "I Was 20 in '45" presenting the perspectives of not just the combatants, but also of the civilians.  The footage from the battle and aftermath is horrific.  The recorded interviews of survivors are just as moving.  I remember in particular an interview of an old woman siting in front of her house in a blue flowered dress, thick framed glasses are perched on her nose.  She looks like just another Belgian grandmother.  In a calm voice she is telling her memories of Christmas 1944.  Her husband had gone off in the woods outside the town with his fellow resistance fighters.  He was shot and killed somewhere along the way.  Their house had been completely destroyed during one of the artillery attacks.  So, she took her newborn and hid in the woods, without food or proper clothing.  She hid there for days, almost completely frozen.  Her child didn't survive.

As we were riding along the roads and trails, past the massive monument that towered above us on the hill, I couldn't help but think that the peaceful woods which we rolled through are still pockmarked with foxholes and bomb craters.  Those pasture lands still hold battle debris and the personal effects of soldiers and civilians.  It seems like a perfect place now, but there is still blood in this landscape.  All along the way are street signs pointing to places like Noville, Bourcy, and Foy.  There'd be a marker here, a fluttering American flag there, unexploded ordinance turned monument a few kilometers later.

I realized that 70 years really isn't that long and that this route we planned wasn't so perfect after all.

Here Are The Facts

Humans have been moving about this planet for some time now.  You would think over millennia of constant migration by foot, wheel, and water that we would have this whole traveling thing figured out.  However, it is quite apparent that most people haven't a clue how to get themselves from one point to another in a responsible and safe manner.  It doesn't matter if they're driving a car, a tractor, a golf cart, walking on their two feet, pedaling a bicycle, or pushing a scooter.  The attitude of many is one of complete self-absorption and disregard of others.  Alas, statistics indicate that this is a global problem.  Deaths by car accident in the United States have been averaging around 30,000 a year for the past four years. In Luxembourg, there have been 4 serious car crashes in the past three days.  Three of those wrecks were fatal.  Sure, we can blame their mode of transport and say cars are the problem, but honestly, unless there is some sort of mechanical failure the cause of the carnage are the drivers themselves.  Their disregard of others is usually the root source.  We focus on cars because they are involved in the most deaths.  Their "accidents" are the most deadly.  But, pedestrians and cyclists and everyone else in between all suffer from the same selfish ignorance.  This is not good.

In an effort to disseminate useful information to the general public here are some facts to help you understand the basics of proper travel behavior, whether you're walking to the store or driving 2,000 miles cross country.

1.)  You are not the only person on the planet.  The first fact of traveling is the most important.  You would think we would all know this.  I mean, obviously there are other people around.  We interact with other people on a daily basis.  But, for some reason many people seem to think they are the only ones on earth when they're out and about.  Newsflash:  Not true!  You cannot move about as if you are completely alone, with total ownership of all roadways, sidewalks, and multi-use paths.  If you do, you or someone else will get hurt or killed.  Master this first fact, and the rest make perfect sense.

2.)  Roadways and pathways are for moving traffic.  Did you know that the first paths on this earth were created so people could get from one place to another easily and as directly as possible? Modern roads and pathways are designed with the same exact purpose!  That's why roads aren't intentionally blocked by obstacles and if an obstacle appears, it is removed immediately.  A blocked road is useless.  Therefore, the next time you are traveling and have an overwhelming urge to stop for whatever reason, move off the road or path.  Roads and paths are for people who are moving.  They are not for family reunions, sunbathing, games of catch, bicycle repair, or changing diapers.  There are other places designed for such purposes.  If you can't tell the difference, you have no business being in public without supervision.

3.)  You are responsible for your dependents.  Traveling with a child or a pet?  Excellent.  Glad to see they are out and about.  But, did you know your children/pets are your responsibility?  It's true!  While it is the public's responsibility to behave in a manner that doesn't endanger your loved one, it is actually your job to keep them out of harms way to begin with.  If you remember Fact #1 you will realize that dog leashes are a necessity and children need to be kept under control.  If you refer to Fact #2 you will realize that the roadway isn't a dog park or a playground.  If your dependents can't behave properly on the roadway then you should take them to one of those facilities.

4.)  Roads and paths can and do have various users.  It is completely legal, unless otherwise posted, for pedestrians and cyclists to be on roads.  While you may not agree with them being there, they have every right to be.  Taking 30 seconds to pass with care isn't going to make you late.  If it does, then you should have left earlier.  Additionally, multi-use paths are, well, MULTI-USE.  Walkers, please refer to Fact #1.  You are are not water.  You do not have to fill all available space on a pathway.  There's nothing shocking or horrifying about a bike being on a path intended for bicycle use.  To prevent any issues, please accept their presence ahead of time and leave space on the path for them.  If you don't, they will ask you to move.  They're not asking you to move because they are horrible people, they are asking you to move because they don't want to hit you.   If they've had to ask you multiple times because you chose to disregard Fact #1, then expect some frustration from them.  Cyclists, you have the responsibility to communicate your presence to slower traffic.  Even if there is room to pass, the decent thing to do is communicate that you intend to pass.  That's just common courtesy.

Finally, and most importantly.

5.)  You and your business never take precedence over another person's life.  It doesn't matter if you're the Queen, the Grand Duke, the President, the Mayor, or the prettiest girl in school.  Your life is not more important than the lives of the other people on the road.  It doesn't matter if you're late to the birth of your first child or your first day at work.  No matter what excuse you give, it never makes killing or injuring someone ok.   Never.  Put the phone down.  That call or text can wait.  Seriously, it can.

There you have it, people.  Those are the facts.  I'm sorry that some of you were never taught them, but it's never too late to learn to something new.  Commit them to memory.  Share them with your friends and loved ones.  Post them in your car, by your walking shoes, or by your bike.  I guarantee that if you accept these things as fact and travel with them in mind, your traveling experiences will go much more smoothly.  Your risk of injury or injuring others will be greatly reduced.  Also, you may notice you are no longer the recipient of gestures or reprimands by random strangers.

See?  Everyone can benefit from a little education and personal responsibility.