Since we've decided to leave, I've learned that when planning a trip of this magnitude, everyone you know seems to get excited for you. In the few months leading up to our departure, Dana & I heard "I'm so jealous" more than we care to admit. I think this is because either (a) we have nice friends and family who won't say "You're Insane! What The F**k Are You Doing??" to our faces or (b) somewhere deep down, EVERYONE harbors dreams of traveling abroad to far-off lands. Either way, I know from personal experience, the mere fact that someone else you know is quitting their job and leaving everything behind to just "go" is inspiring (thanks Pell). If that guy can do it, you can do it too -- even if only for a little while. Of course, in this whole planning process, I've also learned that when you leave on a trip of this magnitude, you're scared as hell and you want to plan on seeing as many friendly faces along the way as you can. So I'm not sure if our long trip was their inspiration or if they finally just gave in to our begging, but in early August, Dana's family came out to Prague to meet us. It was good to see familiar faces. If only to ride the subway with.


Of course, there was more reasons than just us for Dana's mom and sister to come to Prague. Dana's dad defected from Czechoslovakia in the mid 1960s (right in the heart of the Communist era) so his family is still there. Morgan and Archer had also come to see Otto, their uncle and brother-in-law, as well as a whole bunch more of their family. (On the left in the held photo is Dana's dad. He couldn't make the trip for various reasons but he was with us in spirit.)


It was an exciting time. Dana and her sister were back in their half-homeland for the first time in 10 years, when they were backpacking across Europe.


Of course, this time they had some very handsome men tagging along. What a difference ten years makes. Finding men this attractive ain't easy.


As soon as Morgan, Reimer and Archer had arrived, we had a large dinner together with all the family. Their cousin Jana (in stripes) cooked a magnificent feast for us to enjoy. Delicious! Not only that, but she was also letting us stay in her wonderful "Penzion Louda" with its amazing views of the city of Prague. Thanks Jana! The couple on the left is another cousin, Fred, and his wife. They and Jana both spoke good English so the conversation (with translations for Otto) was flowing.


After such a good meal, all we could do was curl up and go to sleep. (the fact that the other three had just flown from Florida didn't hurt either). The next morning, we rose early, had a wonderful breakfast cooked by Jana and then headed out to see all the sights of Prague. Like Prague Castle on the hill behind us.


And Charles Bridge (which was quite nice to look at while we dined in elegance with Czech beers).


During the day, we saw the whole city with little or no problems, save the occasional almost-falling-over-the-castle-wall mishap.


Though almost all of us had been there before, it was easy to appreciate the beauty of Prague.


Just as it is easy to appreciate the beauty of our two ladies and their lovely mother...


After the sightseeing, it was time to eat again. We dined on traditonal Czech favorites, like spit-roasted pigs knuckle. Yummy. We also had beer. Beer in Prague is cheaper than bottled water. Such a great excuse to have more.


After dinner, Reimer and I were blessed with wonderful gifts from our lovely girlfriends -- Russian-style nesting dolls of our favorite NFL football teams.


It goes without saying we loved them. I mean who wouldn't?!? They were NFL NESTING DOLLS. Are you ready for some foootball!


We stopped in another small Czech pub for some more drinks and toasted to Prague and family.


Then we played with our world-champion Pittsburgh Steeler nesting dolls while making our best Bill Cowher face.


Finally, I topped off the night by downing a little absinthe, the green liquor Prague is famous for. Banned in the US and Europe back in 1915, it's hard to experience its ridiculously strong and potent green flavor anywhere but Prague. It was blamed for having psychotrophic properties (from the wormwood it was distilled from) but many artists and writers during the late 19th and early 20th centuries were noted absinthe drinkers. If this stuff was the choice of guys like Vincent van Gogh, I was going to give it a try. Well, now I know why he cut his ear off. It was definitely quite nasty -- like licorice fermented in rubbing alcohol. But I did feel tough. If only because Hemingway drank it. He liked some Pernod as an apertif. Too bad I never got to see a bullfight in Spain...


The next day, the whole gang headed out to Malin, a small town outside Prague near Kutna Hora. This was where Dana's dad was originally from and we went to visit his family home, now lived in by Lenka, their cousin, and her husband Libor and their son Jakub. It was a short visit by a good one.


Afterwards, Otto picked us up and took us to a traditional Czech lunch of dumplings, pork and cabbage. It was delicious. Then he drove us out to the family's old vacation home somewhere far far from Kutna Hora. Then we came back to visit the Kostnice Ossuary right near Kutna Hora in Sedlec. Also known as the Bone Church for obvious reasons, it was originally was a Cistercian Monastery dating back to 1142 . The arrangement of bones dates from 1870 and is the work of a Czech wood-carver, František Rint. He was given authority to mess around with the bones by the new owners of the place after it ceased to be a church. There's supposed to be the bones of 40,000 people in there. Legend has it that Dana's dad once took a skull from this place, but he had such bad luck and was wracked with such guilt that he returned it soon after. We had to see it to confirm. There was no evidence of a stolen skull however. Just some coat of arms made from bones. Spooky.


After the bone church, we headed over to Otto's favorite bar for some traditional Czech drinks -- vodka and beer. Thouroughly sauced, we headed back to Otto's house for tea and coffee. By this time, we felt just like locals. Thanks for everything Otto!


Finally it was time to bid Otto adieu. We headed back to Penzion Louda for one late night (and then one more splendid breakfast by Jana!) before traveling on. Reimer & Morgan were bound for Italy, while the rest of us were off to Austria to see the place where Dana's parents met, Lech. After all that planning, it felt like our time in Czech Republic was over in the blink of an eye. But we'll remember it for a long time. On to Austria!

So we were supposed to fly from Barcelona to Prague on Friday to meet up with Dana's family who were flying in Monday. I'd booked the tickets months before when we put the whole plan in place.

Well, as fate would have it, the day before we were scheduled to fly, the ground staff of Iberia airlines blocked the runways at El Prat airport and effectively shut down the airport.

We'd seen the strike on the late news at Paula & Ivan's the night before, but we didn't have any other option but to head over there the next day. Once we arrived, we realized that Spanish TV had downplayed the magnitude of the problem. The airport was a complete disaster area. Like almost-post-hurricane disaster area. We stayed only long enough to (1) grab sandwiches and water from the first aid workers giving them to the thousands of people camped out on the floors, benches and every other foot of available space in the airport and (2) find out our plane had been diverted to Girona Airport the day before and (3) NO ONE was going ANYWHERE from El Prat for a very long time.(Indeed, we were supposed to leave on Saturday,the day after the strike and things were still screwed on Monday, the day we were supposed to be in Prague.

So Dana & I took matters into our own hands. We took off to the train station to travel overland to Prague. Simple, right? WRONG. The train station was jammed with people doing the exact same thing -- trying to find alternatives to their flights. Plus the Barcelona train station was like being in a DMV. We literally waited in line for HOURS just to have the ticket lady "Oh no, you need to stand in THAT line to get your itinerary" before gesturing to the other end of the station.

Standing in THAT line, we were reduced to just picking random cities in France and Italy and Switzerland which might have trains to them in the next 12 hours. Then we had to take those schedules to the OTHER line to see if there was open space. And there NEVER was. It was awful. We finally got a hit with a combination of five different trains which got us to Zurich, Switzerland the next day. This after four hours in the train station. Except that for some reason in the middle of the booking, the Spanish ticket lady couldn't get us there -- she could only book tickets to Lyon, France and we'd have to plan from there. We were just happy to leave Barcelona.


So we left Barcelona at 7pm Saturday taking a train to Cerebere, Spain then Marseille, France then finally to Lyon, France at around 8am Sunday morning. The second leg, from Cerebere to Marseille, we were lucky enough to have these lovely couchette sleeping beds. They were the best seats we'd get the rest of the way. We had them from 12am to 5am Saturday night.

In Lyon, we stood in line and finally got tickets to Prague itself, via Paris and Frankfurt. We took the superfast-and-extremely-expensive TGV to Paris, then had back-to-back eight hour trains from Paris to Frankfurt, then Frankfurt to Prague. Plus the train to Frankfurt left from a different station in Paris. This then turned our 50 minute layover into a full-out barefoot sprint through the streets of gay Paree in the pouring rain looking for missing bus shuttles before finally racing into the metro and barely making it by minutes. Then our connection to Prague had a 10 minute layover, just enough to walk off one train and on to another. On top of all this, we only had unreserved tickets. Which means we were left scavenging for seats together as we walked on. In short, it was awful.


We made it to Prague at around 8am monday morning, sharing the last hour of our ride with commuters. One old woman yelled at me for having my feet on the seats. I could have bludgeoned her with her handbag. We'd been almost constantly moving since Saturday at 7pm. Any possible chance to be more comfortable and I was taking it. She could take her train rules and shove them up her a**. But I didn't speak Czech and I didn't have one spare ounce of energy. So I put my feet on the floor. Of course.

After a few hours of wandering the streets and subways of Prague, we found Penzion Louda and the sweet bliss of their best room. It was heaven on Earth. The whole debacle ended up costing about four times what the original Barca-Prague ticket cost. But it was worth it. It was Monday and Dana's family was coming in the next day. Time to explore Prague!

After Andorra, Dana & I drove back across Catalonia to Barcelona. A few days early for our flight to Prague, we were warmly welcomed into Paula & Ivan's beautiful brand-new condo in the Barcelona suburb of Sant Cugat. They let us crash there even though they'd just had their first baby only 25 days before! What friends! We were humbled by their generous hospitality. With the lovely Candy also in town, Paula took us out for sushi and some Spanish nightlife. It was her first night out without the baby!


Later Ivan joined us at the club. He was treating his employees for a job well done running a 4-day golf tournament in Platja d'Aro the weekend before. Great work people! We drank it up, did some dancing then headed home early. Which in Spain is like 3 am. It was fun.


The next day, we headed to Paula's parents house where we finally go to visit with young baby Izan. Only 26 days old! What a charmer.


While we were there, Paula's parents Joan and Encarna treated us to a delicious authentic Spanish lunch. (Seriously "delicious" cannot be overstated). First was beer and Iberian ham and bread in the kitchen, then we headed outside for large and delicous helpings of meat, pasta, salad, bread and, of course, Spanish wine. This feast was then finished off with some extremely strong coffee flavored liqueur from the Galicia region of Spain (pictured). After all this food and drink, I suddenly realized why Spainards take a siesta. You HAVE to.


Oh man, I love me some siesta.

After we had sufficiently recovered, we headed out to see Sant Cugat and then had a late dinner. The next day Paula took us to the Barcelona airport, where we were bound for Prague. Thanks again for everthing Sant Cugat-ans! It was wonderful!

As of now, we're in Vilnius, Lithuania. It is a strange place. We just returned from a visit to possibly the only Frank Zappa statute in the world. Don't ever say there is nothing to see in Eastern Europe! And Dana & I are trying to see it all! Tomorrow we are off to Warsaw, Poland...

Dana & I are currently in Lithuania, enjoying the good weather in the coast town of Klaipeda, before heading out onto the Curonian Spit tomorrow. The Spit is shared by Lithuania and Russia, and back in July, we visited another shared land: ANDORRA! After we'd soaked up the sun on the Costa Brava, Dana & I wanted to hike in the mountains. (That is to say, *I* wanted to hike in the mountains and Dana agreed, provided she got just a little more time on the sun-kissed coastline of Cadaques to work on her tan.) With the Pyrenees close by, we jumped in our little Citron and sped off towards one of the only co-principalities in the world!


Sandwitched right in between France and Spain, Andorra is tiny -- only 180 square miles and most of that is mountains. Dana & I drove up straight north from La Seu d'Urgell, the only road to Andorra from Spain. Basically, back in the 800's, Charlemagne granted a charter to the Andorran people in return for their fighting the Moors. Governance of the territory eventually passed to the bishop of the diocese of Urgell. In the 11th century a dispute arose between the bishop and his northern French neighbor over Andorra. In 1278, the conflict was finally resolved by the signing of a parage, which provided that Andorra's sovereignty be shared between the French count of Foix (ultimately the French head of state) and the bishop of La Seu d'Urgell, in Catalonia, Spain. This gave the small principality its territory and political form. With a few twists and turns, Andorra has lasted another 700+ years as much -- shared by France and Spain. Still, it was only with recent advances in transportation and communication (which in turn helped boost the thriving tourist industry) that Andorra was finally admitted into the United Nations in 1993.


So over 9 million tourists visit Andorra each year, but as Dana & I found out, a vast majority of them came only to shop. With no taxes to speak of, everything in Andorra is duty free. The capital Andorra de Vella was packed with stores featuring all imaginable consumer goods and products, mostly expensive things like electronics, jewelry and designer clothes. Traffic on the small streets was a nightmare with touristas everywhere. We got out of town as soon as possible.


The few tourists that don't come to Andorra for shopping come for the mountains. The principality sits in two small valley ringed on all sides by the Pyrenees. In winter, the ski resorts are apparently extremely busy, but in summer, the vibe was distinctively more laid back. In fact, there was pretty much no one around when Dana and I rolled into Arinsal, a small ski village north of the busy capital. Already 4pm, we checked into a nice but inexpensive hotel, then grabbed the gondola to the top of the mountain.


So we were high above it all, hiking in the Pyrenees! We just hit the ground and kept on hiking. There were almost no tourists around down in Arinsal and there were exactly zero up in the mountains at 4pm. It a welcome respite from busy Barcelona and Spain -- just us, the sun streaming through the clouds and the mountains all around us. Later we saw a sheperd herding his sheep and a few mountain bikers but we were pretty much all alone. Wonderful.


Dana and I climbed for a while pretty much straight up. We hiked almost 2,000 vertical feet -- from Comallemple, the top of the gondola and base of the ski lodge, at 6,400 feet to a little bit below the top of Pic Alt de la Cara at 8,400 feet. The scenery was breathtaking and the weather was gorgeous, although clouds were rolling in being so late in the day.


It was after 6pm when we descended and the gondola was already closed for the day. We didn't mind however -- we simply hiked the rest of the way down to Arinsal on some rocky mountain bike trails. We finally made it back to the hotel and grabbed a bite to eat on the deck with the sunlight fading.


The next morning, Dana and I had a homemade breakfast on the beautiful balcony of our room, which looked out over the same gondola and mountains as the day before. Always satisfying to look up and say "I've been up there!" What a great way to start the day!


With no real time to spare before we were due back in Barcelona, Dana and I waved goodbye to Arinsal after breakfast and sped off in the Citron for Catalonia. It was a brief visit but a memorable one. I can truly say Andorra is one of the best self-governing principalities I have ever visited and surely the best in between France and Spain! Until next time...

Leaving Barcelona and the hordes of touristas on Las Ramblas behind, Dana and I escaped to the Costa Brava, a strip of gorgeous coastline that stretches from Blanes to France. We drove north through small towns like Tossa del Mar, spent the night in Sant Feliu de Guixols (known affectionately by us Americanos as "San Fee-loo dee Guac-shoals") and then finally made it to our chosen destination, Cadaques, near the French border. Cadaques is a beautiful white-washed town right on the ocean with plenty of charm. Spaniards have been vacationing here for ages.


Before we got to Cadaques however, we stopped off in Figures, an inland city with only one main attraction -- the Teatro-Museo Dali, the crowing achievement of famed Spanish surrealist Salavador Dali. In the early 1960’s, Dali came back to his hometown to construct his museum inside the ruins of the old Municipal Theatre. Once finished, he lived out his last years there and was eventually buried on the grounds. The outside of the place said it all -- classic Dali.


Unlike Gaudi's mosaics, I've always been enchanted by Dali's work. We spent the afternoon walking through the museum looking at art. While it appears quite boring, the place was incredibly interesting. The museum itself was a work of art, not just the paintings on the walls. As the guidebook said "the museum deserves as much time as you could give it."


Dali was clearly a genius who loved upsetting the status quo. Many of his paintings inside the Teatre were ordinary things, with something amiss or all sorts of strange ants and nails all over them. Others were just amazing, such as this "portrait" of Picasso, done in the style of Picasso.


Another one of my favorites was this one. I forget the exact title, but it was something like "Part of a Series Where From 10 Meters A Tiger Is Seen, But From 2 Meters, Three Small China Men Appear". Or something like that.


After we were saturated with Dali art, we headed to Cadaques where he used to spend his summers as a small boy. The gleaming white buildings, blue ocean and bizarre and rough volcanic beaches no doubt inspired some of the landscapes in his works. While Cadaques was full of touristas (mostly Spanish and French), there were plenty of secluded swimming spots on both sides of town. We headed north from the main beach and made our way down dusty dirt roads to spots far away from town. We swam in the cool ocean and generally had a wonderful time.


This photo says it all. And yes, that is Dana. In short, Cadaques is bliss. We would have stayed there for a week, but we had to catch a flight to Prague. So we headed back to Barcelona...

First, an apology. It was my full intention to update the blog more frequently than once every few weeks, but without constant access to the Internet, this has proved difficult. If only I had an indestructible-yet-featherweight laptop seamlessly connected to a worldwide satellite internet network, i'd be blogging from cramped seats on crowded trains and from the back of tiny Euro rental cars. Sadly, this is not the case. So I simply have to make due with aging PCs in smoke-filled Internet cafes like this one in Prague on the second floor of a wine shop. (The logo of the cafe is a photo of Sherlock Holmes. He's smoking a pipe. Go figure.) In any case, dear reader, let it be known, I am trying to keep the posts coming and the stories flowing. So just keep checking because you never know when I'll be able to steal a few hours in front of a PC in Helsinki (our next stop).

Barcelona was a few weeks ago, but it already seems like years. After coming up separately from Alcoy, Dana, Celia and I headed out to the famed Las Ramblas to drink the night away Catalan-style in the various bars and pubs.


In short, we're supertough. (When you are supertough, it is crucial and mandatory to show off the guns to let everyone else know.)

After we were all good and toasty on Spanish beer, Amanda and Oli eventually made it over to the Ramblas from L'Example and we met up at City Hall, a happening nightclub. The mere fact that City Hall was just opening at 2am should tell you all you need to know. Good times.

Tired and drunken, the three of us headed back to our extremely fancy room in the Front Hotel Martim which is where you stay when you let your girlfriend book the room on Hotels.com. Still, Dana got a good deal and the place turned out to be right across the road from one of the best beaches in Barcelona. So it was perfect. We slept in, showered like 6-7 times in the amazing bathroom, and headed over to the sand to sun ourselves silly. Oli and Amanda made it over and we all drank and hung out and generally had a good time.


The next morning, we said our goodbyes to the Alcoy kids and headed over to the train station to rent a car. Alas, the Spanish siesta struck again and the place was closed from 1-4pm. It was a blessing in disguise however, because it gave us just enough time to grab the subway into the city and see the touristy things we'd been missing. We first witnessed the famed Sagrada Familia, Anton Gaudi's magnificent unfinished cathedral, then we trekked up the hill to Gaudi's beautiful Parc Guell, featuring lots and lots of mosaic art.


In truth, the park itself was beautiful but I wasn't overly impressed with the iguana made from bits of broken tile. Still, he was a massive hit with almost everyone else in Barcelona that day, including Dana who bought a little replica of the beast later in the day. So we were glad we got to see it.


And even the babies liked the little lizard. So maybe I'm being too hard on him.


After soaking in the view from the park for a while, we made our way back to the train station and the now-open rent-a-car office. Then we picked up our tiny-but-powerful Citron C2 and headed North to the Costa Brava. It was goodbye to Barcelona for now, but we would be back...in the next post...