mychai's Diaryland Diary

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My weekend trip with lots and lots of pictures.

It started out as a plan for Levi and me, but Cheerboy and Slo-Mo ended up coming into the plans sometime over the night

The plan? Italy. We didn't really care where. Italy was just the destination. The real adventure was going to be the journey.

I was driving and Levi was shotty when we pointed the Centreon south on the autobahn and put the gas all of the way down. The fastest I got for an extended amount of time is 170 clicks, or roughly just over 100mph. Going down a large hill would sometimes get me to 180, but by then the steering wheel would shake and my armpits would sweat. I've always driven like an old grandpa, so this whole phenomenon of experiencing adrenaline while driving is new to me.

I am quickly adjusting to it and am liking it very much.

We crossed the boarder into Switzerland and quickly started seeing the famed Swiss Alps. The clich� rings true... the pictures I am showing you do not do the beauty of the Alps justice. In the States, I have seen both the Rocky and Smokey mountain ranges, and they don't hold a candle to the Alps.

With a lack of better words to use, it is just awesome to stand a hundred meters from a cliff that shoots up 1500 meters into the clouds that occasionally break to show a snow-tipped peak, with water falling from several streams all around you. It is quite romantic.

Too bad I was in a car with three other guys.

We stopped for lunch and a stretch in a little Swiss town called Sempach. Considering we live in Sembach, we figured it was a good sign. There was a gorgeous lake with a bunch of ducks. Cheerboy was taking a smoke as I chased around a few ducks in the grass. It was quacking at me in German, so I couldn't understand its crys for me to stop, har har.

Levi was off admiring the beauty of Sempach. I was chasing around ducks. Cheerboy was smoking. And Slo-Mo was trying to whiz on the white ducks. It doesn't look like it in that picture, but he was peeing, and the more he arched it towards the duck, the closer the duck got.

Weird Swiss ducks.

I know it looks like a street in Disneyland, but this is what most Swiss (and German) towns look like. It was around 1:30pm, and we hadn't eaten since around 7:30 Saturday morning. We were starving and ended up eating at the first restaurant we came across. It was a Chinese restaurant. I know... I know... We leave the comfort of America to experience new and strange foods in distant countries, yet we eat at a Chinese restaurant.

When you are jonesing for some food, though, you don't feel like searching.

It was an OK restaurant. Nothing spectacular except the fresh fruit they give you at the end of the meal in place of the fortune cookies. Personally, if I never eat a fortune cookie again, it will be too soon. Other than the cheap laugh you get when you read the fortune cookie and follow it with "... in bed." they aren't satisfying at all.

Through Switzerland, we stopped at several places for some good photographic opportunities in front of several mountains. Have I told you yet that the scenary was stunning and that I wish I'd have had someone to hold hands with? Levi just wasn't cutting it.

On one of our gas stops, we found a bunch of maps for sale. Levi, being shotty, was the head navigator and thus chose our destination point. We were heading towards the fashion capital of the world: Milan, Italy.

Is Milan the fashion capital of the world, or is it Paris? For the sake of this diary entry, we'll call it Milan. Or, as the locals call it, Milano. I thought Milano was the race of the offspring of a white person and black person, but I was told that that is something else completely different.

A few things about Italy:

  • Driving in Italy is completely mad, although I quickly grew to like it. Other than the center line, the streets have no lanes, so you are free to zoom by whomever you wish. In tight streets, with cars parked on both sides of the street leaving not 10 feet of clearance, I got up to 100 clicks. If someone gets in your way, you pass him whenever and wherever you can.
  • Parking in Italy is completely mad. They say invest in real estate because God isn't making any more dirt. Well, God is also slacking off in the "parking spots in Italy" creation process. People park anywhere and everywhere. In that pictures, you see the green car. You know... parked on the sidewalk. Behind it is the van, parked in the middle of the street. And behind the van is another car parked on the sidewalk. I was quite the fan of this and loved the many creative ways people park their cars.
  • Their central train station reminded me in a lot of ways of Union Station in Chicago. there are a lot of people and a lot of shops all packed into a very pretty building. Levi had to explain to me the story of the two folks sucking on teets and how they built Rome. I also like the different ways they do ads in Italy. Sorry it is a little blurry, but you get the idea.
  • You can do pretty much watever you want in Italy and nobody cares. Now, to be honest, I'm not doing what it looks like I'm doing. They have fountains all over the place that are constantly pouring water. People come up and wash their faces or dogs in the water. I just thought it would make a funny picture. Levi liked the graffiti on the walls, and there was a bunch of it. I'm not a huge fan of graffiti myself, but some of it was fun to stare at for hours. (Did I mention how I wish I had a girl with me on this trip??)
  • My favorite thing to do in Italy was to sit and watch Italians come and go. Every one of the women are beautiful (except for the ugly ones), and everyone dresses so well. Clothes are really cheap there, and next time I go I am going to do some serious clothes shopping. The typical Italian woman, as you know, has olive skin, black hair, and all of the right curves in all of the right places. Yum.
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On Saturday night, we ate at a corner Pizzeria, which was extremely delicious. They had a small wood-fire oven where they cooked all of their pizzas. I started with a "Salata Tricolore" or something along those lines. It was rocket (a type of leafy veggie, like a peppery flavored lettuce), boiled potatoes, and grilled octopus. They topped it with olive oil and gave a slice of lemon you could squeeze on yourself. If I make it here in Sembach (which I will), I think some capers would be a good addition.

I got a pizza with fresh tomato sauce, mozzarella and gorgonzola cheeses, and some cured, dried slices of beef. The crust was very thin but also very tender. Not crispy at all except around the edges. One pizza, which could have fed two people easily, was only 4�. I chased down my whole meal with my very own bottle of Italian wine.

The rest of the night was a little hazy, due to the wine. I went to bed at around midnight, and the other guys went to find a club. They were unsuccessful, returning back to the room at 1:30. At least, that was their story at press time.


Since I got an early start to bed on Saturday night, I was the first to rise on Sunday morning.

European continental breakfasts in hotels are well known, and I wanted to see first-hand what all of the fuss was about.

It isn't a typical continental breakfast like you'd see in the States. There were no cheap sweet rolls out of a box. No Raisin Bran and Lucky Charms boxes that you pour milk in and go. That is pretty wimpy.

Try a breakfast of freshly made rolls and croissants. Try toppings of different soft cheeses of the likes of brie. Try all the Nutella you can eat!!!

They also had freshly squeezed blood-orange juice. They had espresso, cappacino, and all of the other weird Italian-sounding coffees. They had fresh fruit out the yin-yang and little sweet crackers that I didn't really quite know how to eat properly. I dipped them in my coffee and put cheese on them. I liked how it all tasted, so I must have been eating everything correctly.

Levi came with me to walk around and see Milan's Sunday fare. I didn't think anything at all would be open, but they had all kinds things to see. There were tons of little outdoor caf�s open serving different breakfasts -- mostly breads and cheeses with little slices of ham. They also had espresso flowing like, um, rivers of espresso. Since I had already eaten breakfast, I went to a little shop and got some (gulp!) Nutella gelato.

Nutella f'n gelato! Boy, oh boy, was our hero ever in a happy place!

Levi and I walked around and did some shopping here and there. The most I bought was in an "Everything's a Euro" store. I bought four little-bitty spoons for my neighbor (she's preggers, remember?) and a little baby towel for her as well. I also bought an espresso cup and a small cheese grater for myself.

We walked around for several hours. When noon came it was time to pack up the ol' car and head back home.

We were going to try and make some good time back to Germany at which point we would find a different route and do some more German sightseeing, but that option was quickly nixed when we saw a gondola lift thingie going to the top of a mountain.

The four of us squeezed into a car meant for two. The lift took us to the tip-top of one mountain that was right around 1500 meters high. At the bottom of the lift, it was warm and sunny. On top of the mountain, though, it was cold, cloudy, and hailing. I stopped and posed by a sculpture of the Virgin Mary holding a Baby Jesus flipping off Switzerland.

We spent about three hours on top of the mountain. I found a board and did some improvised sledding on the snow. And while the guys went walking up the mountain, I took a minute to ponder how small I really am. I felt on top of the world. I really did. I loved being on top of that mountain.

It was 4:00 by the time we left the mountain ride. We swore no more stops until we got home, but all of the tunnel rides and lack of radio stations throughout the Alps was really working on my ability to stay awake. My rental contract stated that I was to be the only driver, and if I were to let someone else drive and we were to wreck, then my ass would have been out many thousand dollars.

We stopped for a potty break along the side of the road, and I found a trail that led to a river. The river was fresh snow melt from the mountains, which means the water was oh-my-God cold. It was probably only a very few degrees above freezing.

Not being one to shy away from stripping down to my boxers in the name of getting my buds home safely, I decided it was a good opportunity for a swim. This was the coldest water I have ever been in! I was in the water for about one minute. One very, very long minute. I had to struggle to get out, and once out of the water my legs and feet throbbed with impressive intensity. A family of Germans came up to see what all of my screeming was about and what my friends were laughing at. The Germans cheered me on and wanted me to go back in.

So I did. I lay down in it this time. And I quickly got out so I could get the throbbing over with sooner rather than later.

I was awake. I was shivering and in pain, but I was awake.


The rest of the ride home was pretty uneventful.

I accidentally took a wrong turn and ended up driving down the paved train path through a small German town. I've never reversed a car quicker and with such accuracy in my steering. Nor have I ever before heard three guys screem like schoolgirls. That was classic.

I also was stopped by the Swiss border patrol guards and was instructed to park and go pay a 30? (Frank) road tax. I did park. I did get out and see if I really had to pay, which I did. But I kinda told them I had to run out to my car and get the money.

And... umm... I kinda didn't return. I just sped out of the border patrol station and didn't look back. They are probably looking for me right now.


That was my weekend? What did you do?

7:33 p.m. - Mon., May 4, 2004

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This entry continued on Monday...

Very quick entry. It is designed to entice you to come back on Monday...

I rented a car for the weekend. I am going somewhere really, really cool. I have my digital camera. I have my camcorder. On Monday, I will tell you all about it.

And there will be pictures. Oh, buddy, will there be pictures!


It is Witching Night in Germany. Kids run all over town and pull all kinds of neat pranks. When I was coming back from getting the rental car, kids were already stretcing toilet paper across the streets of Sembach so cars could drive through it.

They also take garbage cans from all over town and put them in a big stack in the park.

Why doesn't America have cool holidays just for kids?

9:52 p.m. - Fri., April 30, 2004

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Ever get the feeling the car you are buying is smarter than you?

You are now reading the words of Europe's newest licensed driver!

I'm pretty excited about my latest accomplishment, but I must admit that it's kind of a shit deal for the Germans, and I can easily see how they get pissed at us being over here. Lemme 'splain:

To drive in Germany, Germans have to take a long-ass course -- as in a driver's ed course that lasts about a year. Then they have to take a test. If they pass the test, they gain the right to pay two-thousand Euros to get their license.

Then, let's say you get caught in the little cameras they have all over the f'n place on the autobahn for driving one kilometer an hour over the limit. And you get caught like this more than a few times.

Because there is no due process when it comes to driving violations. In the States, we have a cop who has to sit out beside the road to clock you while he eats donuts and drinks black coffee out of a thermos. He has to do a lot of stuff to ensure that you are proven guilty in court because you really are innocent until proven otherwise.

Not in Germany. Nope, you are guilty until proven guilty. Innocent doesn't exist here when it comes to traffic violations.

Anyway, you drive one klick faster than the posted speed limit one too many times. They revoke your license. To get it back, you do the whole process again, along with the 2,000� the German government liberates from your bank account.

That just plain sucks.

Then the Americans come over. We get a little red book to study on our own as long as we want. Two days? Good! Two months? I like it!

Then we take the test. We fail? We can re-schedule for Friday. We pass? We fork over $10 to process the paperwork and pay for the postage.

I love living over here. Don't get me wrong. This place is just pure beauty everywhere you look. But I could deal without the German government screwing over its people. And from what I've been told by German locals in bars and on the bus, they don't seem to like their government either.


So, I plan on going to the Smart Car dealership this weekend and see if I can get a test drive and see what kind of financing they can give me.

There is something about them that just looks darn cute. It's like a loveseat on four wheels. A toaster you can drive to Berlin.

And plus, nobody can accuse me of overcompensating for certain insufficiencies, if you catch my drift.

Gotsta keep it clean for the kiddies reading.

I want an all black Smarty. I think those look the sharpest.

You can legally park them in parallel parking spots by just backing them straight in so they face perpendicular traffic.

That's just soooo cool!

And plus, I could ship it home piece by piece via FedEx! For like $20 total!


News from home:

Picayune received 9-12" of rain between Saturday night and Sunday morning. It rained so hard that a dam broke, flooding several homes and causing a bit of panic as rednecks went fleeing their trailers for higher ground as if someone yelled out "FREE CHICKEN!"

The next day, the reporters for the Picayune Item went to interview people living near the lake. Someone only identified in the news article as "Another resident" said, and I quote, "We lost a lost of fish ... nice big bass, perch."

Only in Picayune... only in Picayune...


Yall have a good day tomorrow. I may have the day off to sit in the room of my friend who is participating in that exercise at the other base. His stuff is being shipped from back home tomorrow, and someone has to be in the room to ensure it gets here. Since he is running around with a helmet and a fake gun, I will probably get to sit in his room in my PJs to watch big, hairy, sweaty German men deliver 700lbs of boxes.

Can we all say FUN!

11:58 p.m. - Tues., April 28, 2004

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