Half-Assing It

(1.) "Hey, aren't you leaving the country or something?
-Yes,and all too soon.

(2.) Are you ever going to post those pictures of your Barcelona vacation?
-Sort of.

The relocation back to the USA has been proceeding at an infuriatingly glacial pace, though we are expected to move at a rocket sled-like clip once we get all the facts and dates in... and sadly, that really hasn't happened despite/because of an oft-revised-- sometimes pushed forward, sometimes pushed back-- move-out date as dictated by B's employer (who are handling the actual logistics). As of today, it would appear that it's going to happen on or about August 10... except that the arranged temporary housing they set up in the USA doesn't kick in until the 15th, making us homeless for 5 days. It's a weird two-step we have to work with-- As I've been saying for nigh on 3 years here, Germany is different, so we have to more or less gut the apartment (renters in Germany are generally responsible for purchasing and installing all light fixtures and their entire kitchen, then removing everything upon leaving an apartment), and yet still figure out how to live here before the moving truck arrives. We're dumping all of our goods from the microwave to the car at fire sale pricing, and even something as basic as that was a hot mess due to a flubbed posting date that gave the general public a shot at the goodies before our circle of friends had a proper crack at it. We're going to lose thousands of Euros on the car alone, give away/donate a whole mess of other stuff (what? nobody needs a coffee maker?!) and we really can't do much about that-- we've run out of time. The actual paper trail of moving out has been a bit of a slog as well-- in Germany, canceling a contract is a 3-month process, meaning that even if you move out of the country you still have to pay your rent-- we notified our landlord on June 30, so we're obligated to pay rent until September 30 if nobody else wants to move in. We also found out from our local relocation agent (and thank the stars we have one of those) that certain papers have to be filed after we physically leave. I joked with blog doyenne Katherine With a K that for a country that really didn't want us here in the first place, Germany sure makes it hard to leave. Oh, I should mention that B has been in China on business for the last 2 weeks so our ability to coordinate and communicate with each other and the relocation company has been severely hampered. I wish I could spin this with my usual jollity and snark, but the process has become a long, slow grind. All moves stink whether it's across the street or halfway across the world. The fact that we have to work with 8-10 different people on 2 continents (while B is in a third continent) who aren't necessarily speaking with each other makes this one especially, um, challenging.

So between fending off the likes of ravenous buyers trying to nickel-and-dime me on the DVD player (and who then expect drop-off delivery 3 cities away-- true story), being at the beck-and-call of my relocation person for impromptu meetings and contract cancellation visits to the power company and attempting to keep the place clean for drop-by apartment hunters and assorted furniture buyers, I finally got around to posting the Barcelona photos. I really don't know if anybody bothered to read the commentaries I wrote for the previous photo sets-- if you haven't then feel free to proceed to the photo site and jump right in. For those who do read them, well it's still a work in progress. Part of it has to do with my lack of time; the other part of it has to do with the fact that the middle third of the photos were taken in "parts unknown"-- we really just wandered around wherever the wind took us, and I have no clear idea of where we were. Trying to cross-reference guide books and maps to get a bead on things (not to mention researching and writing about them) is terribly time consuming, and that seems to be one commodity I don't have at the moment. Patience, please. Barcelona photos can be accessed by the link on the right hand side of the page, or simply clicking here or here.

As with everything folks, this shall pass and we'll be out of here soon enough. In fact, I've hatched a crackpot plan that will give us one final Euro holiday weekend on the way back to the USA. Don't want to jinx anything, and everything is contingent on getting those move-out dates locked down and the destination to be reasonably affordable that it won't break our piggy bank (remember that August is high tourist season here on the Continent). More soon on that.

Photo is of the famous Sagrada Família Church in Barcelona, the most famous structure in the city and probably the most important piece of Surrealist architecture in the world. Construction began in 1822, and it still has several decades to go before it is completed. It's less than half-complete-- sort of like our move and my photo captions. See? I really work hard to tie everything together thematically!

Eww... Bad Form.

So there I was, minding my own business with my buddy J at the Schanzenbräu brewery warehouse this afternoon, enjoying a cold hoppy helles beer. Schanzenbräu is an interesting story-- they were car nuts who happened to brew beer as a hobby. Over the years, their beer got more attention than the American muscle cars they imported into Germany and lovingly restored-- so now it's a growing brewery (and local restaurant) that also dabbles in classic Detroit iron restoration. Anyhoozle, J is a graphic artist by trade and has been working with Schanzenbräu to bring out some new T-shirt designs. One of his designs has the red-and-white Franconian flag prominently displayed (Franconia is the northern region of Bavaria, and Nuremberg is generally considered its capitol). For the purposes of the display, the design was mocked up on a black T-Shirt. No less than 3 people-- both the brewery owners and some random guy standing off to the side reacted immediately and negatively to this image on J's computer-- we were told that black, red, and white were a very VERY bad combination, and that they didn't want to "associate our beer with Nazis." Um, excuse me? Turns out that those 3 colors carry a lot of heavy historical weight in these parts still-- red, white and black were also the color of the Nazi flag. Whoopsie!

As soon as I heard that, my mind shot immediately back to the odd reception I got last year when I wore my Saint Kilda Saints jersey into town. Saint Kilda is an Australian Rules Football team, and you can see their jersey ("jumper" in Aussie speak) in the photo being modeled by all-galaxy player Nick Riewoldt. I have a long-sleeve version of this jumper, and I distinctly remember the day we went into town-- I got a LOT of attention, and even B mentioned it-- I figured it was because it's a pretty distinctive jersey, Germans are pretty sports crazy yet don't follow Aussie Footy, and they were trying to figure out what I was wearing. Um... whoopsie? Readers may be relieved to know that while I have an Aussie Rules Football jersey (I love that sport), I do not own the crazy socks or a pair of those short-shorts-- have to draw the line somewhere.

Your Entire Life In Here (With Room To Spare)

The tedious and stressful process of moving out of Germany officially began earlier this week with the arrival of the shipping agent. I'll give B's employer credit-- just as they did on our way over, they will cover the moving costs back to the USA, down to even packing our stuff for us. Not that it's that much stuff apparently: We're leaving behind and selling the car (EU-spec cars are different than US and can not be brought back), the standard IKEA particle board furniture endemic to expats, and all of our electronics (European plugs and electronics are not compatible with US electricity) will be sold as well. But I was mildly surprised to find out that all of the stuff we brought over and all of the stuff we purchased and are keeping-- including the good furniture-- still fits in a standard, lowly 20-foot shipping container as pictured here. Sure, there are some items waiting for us in storage back in the USA, but before moving we sold or gave away damn near all of our furniture (we lived like a couple of students, right down to the futons), so there isn't a whole lot there. The kicker is that after surveying the place, the estimator immediately said "20 foot container" without hesitation. When I asked him if he was sure, he confidently told me that there will be some extra room in there as well.

I'm still not sure whether that's pretty neat (we've never been fans of having a lot of "stuff"), or sort of downbeat... I mean, we're responsible adults with responsible jobs-- aren't we supposed to have an embarrassing amount of crap, bric-a-brac, gewgaws and trinkets by now? But at least it will make for a quick move-- our apartment will take less than 1 day to pack, and less than 1 day to put it in the container, where we won't see the contents until 2-3 months later.

A Nation Shrugs: Women's World Cup Soccer in Germany

World Cup? Wasn't that the soccer tournament in South Africa last year? Yes indeed-- but that was the men's World Cup. The Women's World Cup is talking place right now here in Germany. While my memories of business slowing to a crawl, entire city plazas converted into makeshift viewing areas with multiple jumbotron TV's, and a palpable sense of patriotism surged from the usually apolitical and button-down Germans (who eventually claimed 3rd place) last year, the women's World Cup has inspired a lot of... er, apathy. How apathetic? Well, both Puma and Adidas are located in the area, and through my connections and associations (trust me, English speakers manage to find each other when living abroad), I know for a fact that neither company is doing much to really support this event, nevermind that these are 2 of the larger players in the world of soccer. I don't want to tell tales out of school, but I managed to be hanging out with nearly the entire Puma soccer division the other weekend, and they weren't sure if they even sponsored any country's national women's team-- they honestly couldn't remember. Adidas, who has both the tournament's leading scorer and the winning team trophy named after the company, did not know if they were even going to be showing the games on the TV's there.

The Women's World Cup also differs in that there are less teams playing-- 16 instead of the men's 32, so the actual tournament is shorter-- it started on Sunday (June 26th) and will be finished by mid-July. I was working on a project at home today and I had the games on the TV with the sound off. You know what? They were actually really good-- the teams are very evenly matched so far with no blowouts. Aficionados of the women's game will tell you that the players at this level have much better skills and fundamentals-- stuff that men's players sometimes can cover up with better speed or power to compensate. We'll see how this plays out in the days and weeks to come, but early favorites to win the whole megillah are... Germany and the USA.

The header photo is not a Photoshop-- it's the actual cover of German Playboy with the German women's team in various cheesecake-y (but not compromising) photos. Naturally, there is a flap about this, but it should be noted that nobody forced the players to participate. Their logic is that, OK, we need more people to follow the sport, so if some yokel tunes in to see the "Playboy girls" and comes away an actual fan of the game, then so much the better and it was worth it. You can follow the Women's World Cup wherever you are by checking out this website, run by FIFA, the sport's governing organization. Unlike the 2006 Men's World Cup (also held in Germany), Nuremberg is not a host city/stadium. The closest city would be Augsburg, about 2 hours due south of here, and neither the USA or Germany are scheduled to play there.

Sketches of Spain Pt. 3b: Food Porn- La Boqueria

The excruciatingly slow Barcelona travelogue continues! Honestly people, it was never the intention to string these trip reports out for as long as it has, but what with work, guests, B's unexpected job offer, our upcoming move, procrastination, etc., etc., it's been an interesting last 2 months. But hey, let's get back to Spain for a bit and talk some more about that great food culture.

One of the must-see destinations of any Barcelona itinerary is the Mercat de Sant Josep de la Boqueria, known universally as La Boqueria, situated just off the main tourist street La Rambala and quite close to our hotel. In short, La Boqueria is an open air food market frequented by as many locals as it is tourists. But to leave it at that would be doing it a grave disservice, because La Boqueria is so much more-- it is a temple to food in all of its many forms, a social gathering hub, a place to eat and drink, and a crossroads of commerce and cultures all under one sizable roof. I didn't know what to expect (and the travel shows really don't do it justice), but it was amazing-- the sights, the smells, the colors, the people. You name the food, and you could probably find it at La Boqueria with a little bit of searching. Operating something like a farmer's market, La Boqueria has hundreds of independent businesses operating their own stalls (really microscopic individual stores, complete with below-ground storage, refrigeration, etc.), each with its own specialty or genre. Shopping for offal? There are 5 stalls. Do you really like olives? Salted fish? African spices? South American specialties? Yes to all. La Boqueria is also something of a grazer's paradise-- forget trolling the endcaps at Costco on a Staurday for corn dogs, you really need to be here for fruit so fresh that it nearly explodes in your mouth, artisan cheeses, fresh squeezed juice, sweets, all manner of meats (including many stalls dedicated to the near mythical Jamón ibérico: ham from black footed pigs fed a diet of acorns with the meat being cured for 36 months) nifty micro bars and so much more. I spoke of tapas in my last Spanish post, and there are also a few sit-down tapas bars serving food all day at the market-- they are justly famous, and we enjoyed lunch at both Bar Pinotxo and Kiosko Universal (if you watch the linked video, you can see why I'd use the term "sit-down" advisedly--these places are tiny, and I actually ate my lunch at Bar Pinotxo standing up, balancing my plate in one hand and my fork in the other, being jostled by the crush of humanity all the while). Some of the pictures we took in La Boqueria would be upsetting to some people who find skinned animals and severed heads a bit off-putting, so I'll won't post them here, but maybe on the linked photo site when time allows. But it was a great time with some fabulous food. If you find yourself in Barcelona and have 2-3 hours to spend, go to La Boqueria and definitely bring your appetite.

Just Like That, It's Over

Hey you! Getting sick of seeing that photo of a steak on the top of this flog for 2 weeks straight? Yeah, me too, but a lot has transpired here at expat HQ over the intervening time that made me hold off writing new posts. I will continue with the Barcelona entries soon enough, and maybe even tell the tale of B's brush with the byzantine German health care system for her owie, but the elephant in the room can now be revealed:

We're heading home. In record time. As in 7 weeks from now.

The short story is that B's home office had an opening that was just too good to pass up. I'm simplifying a lot of details here for the sake of a compact entry, but suffice it to say it was still a very difficult decision to make. It wasn't so long ago that we were discussing staying in Europe long term (the vagaries of German taxation and retirement benefit laws force non-EU workers to make the decision to stay or leave by the 5-year mark), and we even seriously pondered a posting in Southeast Asia. But... assorted freelance projects aside, I was getting antsy doing the Hausmann thing here (something which would have continued in Asia), B had progressed up through her company's ranks thanks to this German posting and was getting noticed by the right people, and then this plum job opened up in our beloved Portland; there was no guarantee that a similar position would open up in 2012 or 2013-- which is when we planned to look into heading home. There's more-- a LOT more, but that's the absolute bare-bones abstract of it. I've taken to calling this a perfect storm, but that's not necessarily in a good way.

Figures. I just had my first full, coherent, complete and grammatically correct conversation in German with my local merchant unaided by hand gestures (my charades game will positively slay when we get back), I've been getting more and more work projects including an offer of a long-term position in a downtown office, we were making early plans to host more guests and relatives, not to mention picking out our next holiday destination here (Amsterdam? Copenhagen? Sevilla?)... but Murphy's law had other ideas. I swear, this must be the contractual expat equivalent of washing your car just before it rains.

Fear not readers; I have an embarrassingly large backlog of photos and stories to tell of our European adventure that could last well into the winter, and plans are afoot to regale you about the nightmarish 7 weeks ahead and the bumpy road to "extraction" (as it's known) and repatriation. Should be an interesting ride. Stay tuned-- things are just heating up.

Do I have to rename the blog now?

Sketches of Spain Pt. 3a: Food Porn--Tapas!!

Interesting week here at expat HQ-- a couple of freelance jobs coming to fruition for yours truly, the wall problem that has plagued us since we moved in way back in Winter of 2008 seems to be repaired (fingers crossed), and some other odds and ends that I will probably reference in the near future... but for now, back to the slow reveal of our trip to Barcelona.

Thus far I've discussed some of the headaches of our trip, but once we got out of the airport and our hotel room, it really was a fun time overall. Right now, Spain is known far and wide as a bit of a foodie paradise, and availing ourselves to that was one of our few objectives when we planned the trip. I've capped on our hotel, but the front desk clerks have my everlasting gratitude for pointing out a newer restaurant a few blocks away, and just off Las Ramblas: Bar Cañete. Despite being in what is generally considered a touristy area, this little gem was very much a locals-only joint, which made it all the better-- because this is how the natives eat, and brother, I must say that I'm insanely jealous. Bar Cañete is a tapas restaurant, which means that they primarily serve "small plates," just one or 2 bites worth of food at corresponding prices. The cool thing about tapas is that everybody orders 3 or 4 dishes each and you can share your food with your date or your friends. We also happened to be supping at the bar (where we had a primo view of the open kitchen-- best floor show in town) while the FC Barcelona vs. Real Madrid soccer match-- a long and heated rivalry-- was on the TV. Barcelona won 2-0, and the place was rocking is all I have to say. And the food? We've been to a lot of restaurants, and have had the extreme good fortune to enjoy some excellent meals. But this one was definitely Top 3 of all time material. It really was that damn good. So good in fact that we happily... nay, gleefully broke one of our personal cardinal rules of travel: Never eat at the same restaurant twice-- there is so much to experience; do not confine yourself to the same place. Not this time.

The dish you see pictured was not tapas, but more of a smallish main course: a perfectly cooked flatiron steak on a bed of whipped potatoes topped with... wait for it... foie gras. Decadent (and actually too rich for me to be honest)-- but man alive, the first few bites were revelatory before I separated the beef from the pate. Lurking in the background are a husky Spanish house red and another wondrous discovery: Barcelona's own Moritz beer which worked great with the meal. If anybody is heading over to Barcelona, I can not recommend this place enough-- this is a food lover's dream, with the freshest ingredients prepared simply and expertly. We'll remember Bar Cañete for a long time.

In the meantime, here is a short promotional video of Bar Cañete, and its expert chefs going through their paces-- grab a napkin; you're going to drool.