London, England

Amsterdam. What can I say. I really loved it and would go back in a second. Pretty much everyone spoke English so our Dutch dictionary was superfluous and this got me wondering how many of Amsterdam’s residents are relocated from elsewhere. Furthermore, is it due to the lenient drug laws or is it because of the culture. There are hundreds of museums, galleries, historical haunts, coffeeshops, shopping districts, I could go on and on. One would never tire of something to do or see, but if you did you could then just hang out at a coffeeshop and partake of a little red hair or space cake.

I wish I had at least a week there to see more of the city. Rebecca and I actually got so much done in terms of tourist hits. Rebecca and I saved the Anne Frank House for the evening in order to avoid the crowds and I am really glad we did. It is such a somber activity which you would want to experience with as few people around as possible. As we walked through the house and listened to the tapes of Otto Frank and others, there were only about four or five other people milling around us. A good amount. I have to confess to never having read her diary so I hadn’t realized they had all died except her father. Especially the fact she died with only a month to go before the liberation. I am also amazed at her level of comprehension, thoughtfulness, and intelligence at such a young age. She seemed far older in her diary.

The neighborhood where Anne Frank’s house is was also a cute area. It seemed to be the hub of the gay community. There was even a kiosk in front of a church that said “Gay and Lesbian Information Center” subtitled the “Pink Point.” We had some great Thai food in this neighborhood before heading back to find a coffeeshop.

We did make it to the Hemp Museum and the Sex Museum which could be easily skipped, especially the sex museum. But the Van Gogh museum was wonderful. I convinced Rebecca we need the audio feature so we rented the headphones and EMP like palm pilot thing. Of course I think another reason I loved the museum is because our spacecake hit right when we got there and all I wanted was to focus on the art and shut out everyone around me. The audio portion was amazing for this. Yet in every narration it says Van Gogh cut off his ear in a fit of hysteria really and they didn’t say anything about sending it to a woman. I think that part must be a lie. Also, he pretty much didn’t want to go to school or work so his brother supported him his whole life. Lucky guy. He didn’t even become famous until after he died so luckily his brother reaped the benefits then, but I wonder if there was any rift between them since Van Gogh was just an artist living off other people. Hmmm….That would be really frowned upon these days.

Our last night in Amsterdam we went to the Bulldog coffeeshop and enjoyed a view of the Red Light District’s best alley. If you haven’t been to Amsterdam, prostitution is also legal and orderly. The women stand in these windows like a display case and try to lure the men into their room. Then they close the curtains and the rest is obvious. Their “display cases” are lit with red lights so when you look down the alley it’s just window after window of this red glow with crowds of men window shopping. From our table in the coffeeshop we watched two women work all night trying to get customers. The most amusing part of the night was watching the same men circle around and around, I assume trying to decide which girl they want to go with. Sort of like circling a jewelry case over and over until you decide which ring you like best. It felt a bit like watching the Discovery channel. I asked some of our London buddies here if they knew how much it cost and how it works. They said “they heard” the ladies have to pay between 80-120 Euros/hr for the rent of the room and then give each guy maybe 20 minutes. In order to make your money back from the amount they spend on the room, they would have to charge a lot and have at least two an hour. We only saw one guy come out of a window in the two hours we sat there. Poor working girls. 🙂

We are now in London and heading out to go to a favorite restaurant of mine that Scott and I went to in Soho. Then a little shopping for a party tonight with Rebecca’s college friend and his boss. Last night I stayed in due to a headache but Rebecca was a trooper and went clubbing with the guys until five this morning. Crazy girl.

We better go. I’m starving.

Amsterdam, The Netherlands

We have arrived. After a dull visit in Geneva, too much fog to enjoy anything, and too busy an area to really see the beauty of Switzerland, we said goodbye to Charity who flew back to London last night. Rebecca and I then hopped on an overnight 13 hour train to Amsterdam and slept in some strange uncomfortable positions all night. Strangely enough we are wide awake, just hurting a bit.

But that will all be solved perhaps by a visit to a coffee house maybe? First we will do the good tourist/info-junkie stuff like visiting Anne Frank’s house and maybe the Heineken Brewery. My sister Marie says to skip it, but a free beer at the end sounds good. At her suggestion though, we may check out the windmills as well. We have two nights here in a nice hotel that we got a great deal on (although we wanted to shove their smiles up their #@!@#* when we got there because they said they were in Rembrandt Square, so with our backpacks on we hiked around for over an hour trying to find it only to discover it wasn’t even close to Rembrandt Square).

The shower felt great today since we haven’t had the best opportunities for showers and now we are out on the prowl for sights and sounds and of course a great cappuccino. Our backs are killing us so tonight may be the night to really experience Amsterdam and then head back to the hotel to crash.

We shall post more before we head back to London for a couple days. Starting to feel a bit homesick. As I was getting ready to hit the town today I had this aching feeling that I wanted to see my parents and my sisters. Crazy. I guess it will be good that we are all going to meet up in Hawaii for Thanksgiving. Not much longer now. I’m sure my homesickness will pass when we have our first night there and remember that a house full of Tofts is not always the best idea. 🙂 We’ll see.

Milan, Italy

We caught the overnight to Venice and arrived with accomodations right near San Marco Square which meant we were set. We couldn’t believe our good fortune. For only €85 a night total, the three of us each got a bed, a nice bathroom and shower, as well as the best breakfast spread I’ve ever seen. Have I mentioned how much I love that when you order coffee you get a pitcher of espresso and a pitcher of steamed milk to mix to your liking?

We spent the day exploring the crazy maze that Venice is. Rick Steves, who has quickly become our brazenly worshiped God, suggested letting yourself get lost in Venice and believe me, we did. I even went out on my own at one point in hopes of finding something nice to wear to dinner. The girls napped while I proceeded to get myself lost for over an hour. The plus side of this is that it kept me from buying any of the clothes that were well over my price limit (€500 for a blouse: that’s not my limit, that’s the average cost) and I did end up finding a cute little store where I bought some tape so I could put my tickets, receipts, restaurant cards and such in my journal. I’ve been doing a pretty good job of keeping a journal so the girls want me to photocopy it for them. Luckily it has been extremely clinical in the “chronical of what we’ve done” sort of way and not so much the editorial or personal growth kind of writing.

We are all sort of feeling like even though we are amazed at everything we see and we are having an amazing time, it hasn’t hit us where we are or what we’re doing. We think that when we get back and we see a movie or read a book or someone mentions one of the places we’ve been, we’ll suddenly get that feeling like, “oh my god, I was there, right there.” Especially in Venice. We sat along the river, drinking our wine and eating our pasta, watching a Gondole go by and smiling to ourselves, but not really having it sink in yet. Needless to say though, Venice is everything you think it’s going to be and 10 times more than that. It is incredible. To live in a place where instead of cars and roads, you have boats and canals; we just fell in love. And yes, we took a Gondole ride because we just had too. It was spontaneous and wonderful. I asked Charity if she thought there were many boat crashes or Gondole overturns. Then as we were coming around a corner and our “captain” hollered out that he was coming, so as to warn any real boats that might be coming, we collided with a big sturdy motor boat type thing. For the next 15 minutes our driver and that guy yelled at each other about what happened and whose fault it was (all in Italian of course, so I’m guessing here) and then they exchanged information, just like a car accident! We were actually quite pleased to have had the ride become so memorable. Rebecca of course would consider the whole incident the result of me jinxing us. We’ve done a lot of trying to combat any jinxes by then saying the opposite. That girl is funny about her jinxes, but we like her anyway. 🙂 Sidenote: every time we passed other Gondoles our guy told the other guys about the accident and by the end of the shortened trip, we were starting to know how to describe the whole thing in Italian.

Anywho, we enjoyed Venice and were on our way to Cinque Terra when we missed our train because we lost each other just before. Turns out this was good fortune because with the extra time we called for lodging only to find out that all the towns over there go to sleep before 7pm (in terms of letting us in) so we decided to get off the train in Milan. As we were heading from the train station into an Internet Cafe, a man asked if we were looking for lodging on the internet. Of course we were, so we followed him to a really nice hotel nearby where he gave us a great discount. We have a really nice room with great bathroom near the train station. We just ate a huge fancy Italian dinner and the wait staff thought I was funny because I ordered the lobster and linguine which they claimed was for two. I don’t see how that’s possible unless you are ordering something from every course. Anyhow, it was delicious and I think my hearty appetite made them like me because I got a lot of attention. Or as Scott would say, it might have been my boobs. 🙂

Two bottles of wine later and here I am, blogging. Tomorrow morning we head to Cinque Terra and as luck would have it, Nicole e-mailed and said she was traveling around with Ethan’s class and they will be there this weekend. We will most likely hike the little towns together. We’ll let you know!

Sidenote: After so much wine, and not enough sleep, I’ve probably misspelled things and mixed up some words, but I don’t have spellcheck so deal with it and don’t think less of me. Hic! 😉

Salzburg, Austria

Love Salzburg. Probably more than Prague. Things just keep getting prettier. We took the Sound of Music tour from Bob’s Tours recommended by Rick Steves and it was worth it. Our tour guide, Steve, was originally from Massachusetts so he was quite the character and immediately asked us if we were big fans of the movie. We said it was a part of our childhood, but that’s as far as it went. Turns out there are Sound of Music sing-a-longs in the same vein as the Rocky Horror. I’d love to see how that goes. Joey? Up for it? Let’s find one. As our tour guide said, “Usually in an area where you would find a gay population, and if you’re okay with that kind of thing, I mean I’m not into that but I’m not offended by it either, then you should check it out.” Very funny. Since we weren’t die-hard drapery-wearing brown-paper-packages-tied-up-with-string kind of fans, he made our tour a little of the movie and a lot of the area in general.

It was just the three of us and nice couple in their early fifties who had both just retired with a nice “thank you for leaving so we can pay a kid less then we pay you” package from the California School District. Steve took us around the outlying country and it was breathtaking. We kept asking what people do for a living because I think we all had the same idea of trying to move here. Mostly tourist supported work either directly or indirectly. Also, we learned the drink Red Bull originated just outside of Salzburg by a rich Austrian and the factory is here. It is called Red Bull everywhere because they thought the macho American name would sell better. Apparently so. I hate Red Bull though, but Steve started saying he could go for one (maybe with a little vodka mixed in) so we all agreed to stop at this “blow-your-mind” lookout where there was a little cafe. We had dessert (Linzer Torte) and coffee. No Red Bull. The coffee did us well though. Actually, to be accurate, we had espresso with cream or a few cappuccinos.

A lot of shopping and drinking to be had here in Salzburg, so we’ve made sure to do a bit of that. If anyone is ever here, DO NOT miss the Augustine Braustubla: a beer hall in Salzburg that is attached to a monastery and in which the monks brew their own beer. You grab a mug and they pour you beer straight from the wooden barrels. Amazing. Charity and I left Rebecca to sleep while we went and sampled a bit last night. We were at one point pleased to have the table of locals next to us say a loud traditional toast and follow it up with a four part harmony (all men) of a beautiful German song. All this while I was trying to translate the sign above them which turned to read, “Singing, Laughing and {something indecipherable} not allowed. A drunken Australian came up to them after and told them they were amazing and clapped for them. They smiled and laughed at him. Later we had the good fortune of meeting that same Aussie back at the hostel. Paul was quite a character and when Charity, Peter (a newly college grad from Massachusetts we met at dinner), and I started playing table football, Paul was quick to learn and soon proud to excel as he sobered up. He was surprised that all of us knew how to play. I was pleased that the east and west coast childhoods were actually very similar. I can remember science class freshmen year of high school, kicking some serious male butt at that game. I also remember that was the last quarter I got a 4.0. Maybe I should take the game up again.

This has become a long entry. We are waiting to catch an overnight train to Venice. We leave at one in the morning and get in a little before 9am. We’re hoping to find lockers for our bags because we won’t check into our lodging until later. Italian food, here we come! I’ve probably had enough beef, veal, and sausage for a while.

Sidenote: Any interest in Table Football, this site might give you a better idea of how it looks but no one actually makes a table or buys this thing. It’s all homemade, good ol’ imagination.

Prague, Czech Rebuplic

So who’s with me? I want to move to Prague. I love it here. We had a great time toolin’ around Berlin, but then we caught the train to Prague and introduced ourselves to the beauty of it by moonlight first. People are on the whole fairly helpful and friendly here, but the best part is how utterly breathtaking the architecture is and the preservation of everything. I am in love.

We are staying at the Prague Lion, a hostel/hotel which is really nice and everything in Prague is a deal. We had an amazing meal last night: three entrees, one soup, four drinks, three desserts, three coffees, all equaling thirty dollars. Total. For all of us. Not each of us. Can you believe that?

We are going to spend a bit more time here tomorrow before catching a train tomorrow for Salzburg where we will take the Sound of Music tour because let’s face it, that’s the only real reason any of us think of Austria. 🙂 Kidding. But we are going on the tour. And then it’s on to Venice. Italy, we’re almost there. Hoping to meet up with Nicole once we’re there!

To all I promised e-mails and postcards to, hopefully I’ll get to that. And to everyone who knows how much I was thinking I was too worn out for this, I was wrong. I’m so glad I came and the girls are the perfect pace for me. We all seem to want the same things at the same speed so far. Loving it. More to come.

London, England / Stansted Airport
Found the girls. Off to Berlin by plane! More to come. SO SO TIRED!!!

London, England / London-Heathrow Airport

I am in London waiting for the girls. I don’t know how long to wait or xactly where. We really planned this well. 🙂 I also can’t get into my e-mail so i’ll have to use hotmail. but post comments because that will be the easiest.

Dave! They upgraded me and treated me like a queen! Give my love to your uncle and his partner. Skippy was my flight attendant and he was amazingly nice and generous. More later.

Oakland, California
I have just returned from Atlanta and am preparing to fly out to London tomorrow. As Max and I were returning from Maine yesterday and bemoaning the fact we had to fly through Cincinnati, he pointed out to me that this was just the beginning of airports for me. So I thought about this.

In three days I will have hit 10 airports.
Sunday: Portland to Cincinnati to Atlanta
Monday: Atlanta to Dallas/Ft. Worth to Oakland
Tuesday: San Fran to Chicago to London/Heathrow then over to London/Stansted to Berlin/Schonefeld

If we include the last week and the count each trip to an airport and not just once for individual airports then it would be a total of 15 airports. Argh.

Needless to say, I hate airports and the only comforting thing is that I still hold Dallas/Ft. Worth as my LEAST favorite airport of all time. And that’s even on days when there isn’t a thunderstorm to keep you on the runway for four hours.

The worst part about all this? News that The Concorde is being decommissioned or retired or whatever was disheartening because I had big hopes that soon all our airtime would be faster than the speed of sound and eventually available to the average Joe.

If you’ve read KB’s blog, I’m sure you’ve gathered that my travels have begun, starting with a visit in Portland where I met up with a dear old friend. That’s right, Billy Idol. Alas, he had a show that night so we couldn’t hang for too long and I had California waiting for me so we parted ways. The life of a rock star is hard and he’s had to learn to adjust to my lifestyle because of it. Poor Billy.

With Kris and Joey still sleeping, I whispered a quick goodbye and headed out the door with hopes of making it from Portland to Oakland in one day. It’s funny to think as a kid how far it seemed and how necessary it was to make it a two day trip. Of course that was when leaving from Whidbey Island, but still I think ten hours is easy. Especially since I was accompanied by Stephen King’s “The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon” on tape and then followed by David Sedaris’ practically complete collection on tape as well.

There were points in my drive where I realized I was focusing so much on the stories or the road that I had completely blocked out the scenery. I found this strange because while traveling for work, I always noticed how beautiful everything around me was, or in some cases how dreadfully dry and flat. But since I was making an I-5 drive down to Cali, a drive which I could do blindfolded, I think I was…well acting blindfolded.

At this point I realized the only thing I had really noticed were big splashes of paint on the road in front of me every few hours. Somewhere in Oregon is when I first noticed a huge splatter of Hot Pink paint and the dented can off to the side. I made an unconscious note of this and drove on. Then shortly after entering California I noticed another giant stain of Hot Pink. It was at this point I thought to myself, “Oh my god, I hope that was all the Hot Pink they were carrying because that definitely does not need to go up on anyone’s wall, house, or fence.” Two hours later I was both comforted and pleased when I saw a nice shade of stucco splashed across my lane. The comfort came from the fact I felt as if I were being shown that despite my lack of attention to where I was going, I at least was going the way of the paint. Consistent with some tacky interior designer maybe, no doubt heading to the Castro district.

Around the final half hour of my drive I noticed the last bit of paint, apparently the primer, a stark white laid across marking the end of my trip. First, the thoughtful pensive Katie said, “And so I’ve arrived. Thank you good paint for leading the way.” But then the practical Katie thought, “Some poor fool is going to get to where they’re going and have nothing left but some paint brushes and maybe another can of primer.” At least we can rest assured the Hot Pink won’t be making an appearance anytime soon in some tasteless California home.

So this brings me back into blogging. You can hate or not, but I will try from here on out to keep you updated. I’ve been resting and getting things done the last few days, which includes finally mailing my taxes off (they owe me money so cut me a break) and making promise after promise to get Erin and Jenna moved over to Movable Type. It will happen you two, really. Just give me some time and I’ll be back in the swing of things.

And as Christy said, I had yet another flat tire, just as I was getting onto the Bay Bridge in rush hour traffic in San Fran. Luckily I was able to pull off quickly and in under 15 minutes had the tire changed and ready to go. I’m getting good at this. The “Katie luck” didn’t end there though; turns out the tire is shot so I just picked up my car from having a new tire thrown on it. Someone up there must think I need a lot of practice with the tire changing.

This is an added note to my previous post since I now realize I left out a vital part. BEFORE, I go to Europe and all that good stuff, I AM driving down to California and making Oakland my home base with Dave and John. Then from there I will be visiting Christy and Erika up and down the coast for a couple weeks before flying to Atlanta to see Max. When I get back from Europe I will be flying back to Oakland where I will have yet another week before I fly out to Hawaii.

So no worries, Christy. I am still coming. 🙂 I don’t consider driving to California so much as a road trip as going “home” in Navy terms. As a Navy brat we all know that there were never any real vacations, just moving to a new place or visiting the last place we lived. I’m doing that. But in the true fashion of evolution, as a daughter of a Navy captain, but not a military employee myself, I shall break the cycle of “pseudo-vacations” and go to Europe and Hawaii as well.

Can’t wait to see everyone. If I am skipping you on this trip, believe that I am making plans in my head to tell my next employer “I’m sorry, you did say this package includes 5 weeks vacation, right?”