Midnite's Global Journey of Spiritual Discovery* - Tiki Travel

M midnite Member 37? 47' N, 122? 26' W Joined: Mar 25, 2002 Posts: 1230	M midnite Posted posted on Tue, Dec 15, 2009 1:31 PM GREAT EXPECTATIONS MUNICH-STUTTGART-PRAGUE DECEMBER 09 Our Christmas trip came a bit early this year. That timing may have been off by a few weeks, but the trip was years in the making. As the year ends, and with it a decade, it can give one a sense of place and time. Perhaps even a chance at some personal assessment. Life is a journey, and sometimes, as those wacky Germans say, it's a sort of bildungsroman. Uh, well, they do make a mean automobile. MUNICH Just two short years ago I visited Munich and found it somewhat lacking. However, I adore the Munich Vic's so it was an obvious choice to return with Michelle for a few days before our trip to Prague. Last time in Munich it was June, this trip was literally six months later on the calendar. I'd counsel visitors to see Munich during warmer months. So much there is geared to outdoor activities, drinking included, it is a shame to be stuck inside. Unless, of course, you are stuck in the basement of the Hotel Bayerischer. Then the world is your oyster and a Tahitian Pearl would be a nice aperitif. Ahh yes, Munich Trader Vic's. I prefer to call it by another moniker: Heaven on Promenadeplatz. The old London v. Munich debate raged, until now. I can declare Munich Trader Vic's my favorite, and also the most outstanding, of all I have visited. If one wishes to compare the host cities then Munich is no match for London. However, if strictly which Trader Vic's to see if you could visit but one? Munich. Our three evenings spent at Vic's were the highlight of the trip. I was able to again trade stories with my favorite Trader Vic's bartender, Joe. He's still going strong but do get there and visit him soon as the word "retirement" is popping up in conversations. Any serious cocktail enthusiast should have Joe prepare a few for him/her. Now, for this recreational imbiber "a few" means...well, they use the metric system and with the conversion I am not sure how many it equates to in pounds, or dollars for that matter. I had a litre or two. Some new faves were discovered (Hello, Hinky Dink's and Siboney) and some old friends revisited (Ahoy, Tortuga and Tiki Puka Puka). One interesting side note for you cocktail fans would be Dr. Funk's Son. I asked Joe what the natives were drinking and he mentioned Funk's Son is a popular choice. A neat thing about Munich's presentation of this cocktail is they still retain the classic ice vessel. I have had a Dr. Funk's Son served this way only twice before. To see the cocktail come out encased in its own ice jacket: so cool! However, I still don't much like the Son...better to go with Vater Funk. Vic's was not all potent potables; we also ate quite well. Getting a table was rather a pill though. It was holiday season and the place was hopping, packed full of revelers. No table was available until 10pm! Now, as an American I find late dining to be as appealing as European plumbing. In a spot of brilliance I considered the time difference back home and the new fangled wireless device at my disposal. In what must stand as the ultimate manifestation of my Trader Vic's fanboy status I called in some "air strikes" from Vic's HQ to help me secure a better table. Help from the corporate cavalry was on its way. Still, while I waited I tried the ole midnite charm on our server, Susan. It worked, go figure. She set up a four top for us in the dining room near the bar. Susan was a real sweetheart and we were treated very well by everyone at Munich Vic's. The three days in Munich were not simply spent waiting for 1700 hours. No way, Hans! One day we took in a couple of the Pinakotheck Museums and enjoyed some very fine art, except for that glowing green installation that got us all Hulky. Those wacky German artists! Better yet, the days in Germany were also a way for me to make the Pilgrimage, my own Car Haj. A good trip was about to get epic. Next stop: Zuffenhausen. STUTTGART Munich is home to my cocktail haven, nearby Stuttgart is birthplace to another object of my religious devotion. In a stroke of pure genius the fair Michelle came up with the idea to visit Stuttgart and more precisely the new Porsche Museum. See why I love her? Porsche, Trader Vic's, my best girl. Could things get any better? Well, they could serve a club sandwich at the museum cafe. Still, in the realm of personal happiness, this day was way up there. I was able to stroll amongst the most famous efforts from my favorite marque, including one special model which played a prominent part in my own life. It was an exhilarating trip down memory lane in all its top-down and air-cooled glory. I got to touch "Number One", the first ever Porsche. Michelle had to drag me away before I signed papers at the dealership across the street for a Guards Red beauty and took European Delivery right there and then. I had to settle for a nice photo book. Plus, you know what they say about red cars anyway. PRAGUE As my travels continue I face the dilemma of expanding my tally of places to revisit while simultaneously maintaining a long list of destinations I have yet to see. Prague was until this trip on the latter but it won't be on the former. For over twenty years I wanted to visit Prague. I recall when the Soviet Union fell and I entertained, for a brief time, the notion of going there like so many other young Americans and starting a business. Prague was the beautiful capital of the country where my Father was born. It was, in a sense, the homeland. In some manner it held a spell over me. I had looked at many photographs of her beautiful cityscape. My international travels started, in earnest, a decade ago. Yet, Prague was backburnered, always the "next place." Years went by and it never was the next place, until now. Oh, the anticipation. Well, Pip, I'd say those great expectations bettered me. Prague was just, how do I put this, shallow and unfulfilling? More beautiful than all but a few places I have seen yet a city to which I could not warm. She's a beauty, but past the facade it's ugly and somewhat venal. I've known pretty girls like her. Girls from my earlier, and pitifully immature, days. The beauty she possesses will make your heart go arrhythmic. She's the one relying on her looks, playing off her physical attributes, and unable to go beyond that which people have said about her for so long. "So gorgeous, the Paris of Central Europe, a gem of a city, a dreamscape." She transacts in that currency, knows how to please, if only temporarily. You get a little glimpse, a look-see. Pay the price, be with the beautiful girl. "I'm yours" she whispers, "All yours, really." Ahh yes, Prague is that tall blonde with the pale blue eyes and I so want her to be mine. We alighted in Prague at the infamous Central Prague rail station, Hlavni Nadrazi. Now there's a joy to behold! Dig the Czech train station scene if you can. I cannot. Alarmingly dark, dilapidated, leaking buildings do not warrant my affection. This inglorious beginning to our stay continued as we unduly labored to get across the city to the Mala Strana neighborhood. This is not going as I had envisioned. Why are you treating me so poorly, Prague? Finally, a sanctuary of sort was found at our hotel in the embassy district, right across from the U.S. facility. A bad first impression is all, my love affair with Prague will soon blossom. Time to eat, time to get this trip moving back in a positive direction. Of the many dining options I found for our stay in Prague one was a well regarded small French bistro near our hotel. We came for the delicious steak entrecote but the cocktail menu had piqued my attention. Not unexpectedly, I heard the siren call of a tropical libation. Could that be the salve to this ghastly introduction to Prague? The gruesome main rail station, the surly locals, the never ending bloat of tourists? Zombie will make it all better. The sweet and familiar nectar of a favorite cocktail will surely soothe this increasingly savage traveling beast. Go forth and find thyself a well-made beverage and its spirits shall lift thou. Yes, that cocktail cometh, and it will be good and... It's blue. It's a blue drink. A...blue...drink. Jesus weeps. I had to laugh. I also kept an eye out for errant red cars the rest of the trip. Prague was not all bad news, hardly. We were quite pleased with the Alchymist Grand Hotel and our walks through the Lesser Quarter. The Charles Bridge in the early morning was a pleasure. Likewise for nearby Kampa Island. I enjoyed the Pilsner Urquell from a Tankovna pub. The small Mucha museum was a treat. By fits and spurts Prague offered contentment, in jerks and fools Prague suffered from too many. Her vistas are beyond spectacular: the red roofs of Mala Strana, the Art Nouvea of Old Town, the Vltava and its many bridges. She is so stunning, yet the city seems evasive, distant. I want to love this place, but am unable. Why? Clarity arrives late one evening as fog crawls over the cityscape. Ethereal light illuminates the gates of Karlov Most. The allure of this moment is breathtaking. It is a scene from centuries ago, one that has captivated so many before. Here it is, repeated again, just for me. Now my thoughts are familiar. I lived this moment years ago whilst under the spell of a similar beauty whose affections I so dearly wanted to recapture. "Say you love me, say I'm the one." was my plea,* "Say it one more time."* Ahh yes, I remember how that one ended. That was a lesson learned. Only this time I stop her before she can respond, "Forget it." I think, "I don't wanna hear it, not this time, not anymore." Prague, talk to you later. Save it for another guy. Sandwiches? Oh, I ate a sandwich or two. Worthy of note was the club sandwich at Pusser's in Munich, home of the Painkiller. I wish they had a lighter touch on the mayo but it was still quite good. More surprising was my affection for the house cocktail. It warmed my dodgy heart on a cold night in Munich. Spicy, yummy, rum goodness. On that positive note we end the travel year 2009. For many reasons this year's travels fell a bit short of expectations, great or otherwise. Good times were still had though, from Central Massachusetts to Central Europe. The past was a recurring theme in my trips this year and others. I suppose there was some personal searching amongst all the miles, a retracing of my history. Perhaps I was trying to assess what was lost and why. A decade of travel ends. I retire a well-used passport and recognize it's what can still be that truly matters. Looking backwards is really no way to travel. I do think it is time to close the chapter on Europe for now. Let's look west, and go east. Rote Autos, Blaugetränke und Blonde Frauen...sind schlechte Nachrichten. Herr midnite

GREAT EXPECTATIONS

MUNICH-STUTTGART-PRAGUE DECEMBER 09

Our Christmas trip came a bit early this year. That timing may have been off by a few weeks, but the trip was years in the making. As the year ends, and with it a decade, it can give one a sense of place and time. Perhaps even a chance at some personal assessment. Life is a journey, and sometimes, as those wacky Germans say, it's a sort of bildungsroman. Uh, well, they do make a mean automobile.

MUNICH

Just two short years ago I visited Munich and found it somewhat lacking. However, I adore the Munich Vic's so it was an obvious choice to return with Michelle for a few days before our trip to Prague. Last time in Munich it was June, this trip was literally six months later on the calendar. I'd counsel visitors to see Munich during warmer months. So much there is geared to outdoor activities, drinking included, it is a shame to be stuck inside. Unless, of course, you are stuck in the basement of the Hotel Bayerischer. Then the world is your oyster and a Tahitian Pearl would be a nice aperitif.

Ahh yes, Munich Trader Vic's. I prefer to call it by another moniker: Heaven on Promenadeplatz. The old London v. Munich debate raged, until now. I can declare Munich Trader Vic's my favorite, and also the most outstanding, of all I have visited. If one wishes to compare the host cities then Munich is no match for London. However, if strictly which Trader Vic's to see if you could visit but one? Munich.

Our three evenings spent at Vic's were the highlight of the trip. I was able to again trade stories with my favorite Trader Vic's bartender, Joe. He's still going strong but do get there and visit him soon as the word "retirement" is popping up in conversations. Any serious cocktail enthusiast should have Joe prepare a few for him/her. Now, for this recreational imbiber "a few" means...well, they use the metric system and with the conversion I am not sure how many it equates to in pounds, or dollars for that matter. I had a litre or two. Some new faves were discovered (Hello, Hinky Dink's and Siboney) and some old friends revisited (Ahoy, Tortuga and Tiki Puka Puka). One interesting side note for you cocktail fans would be Dr. Funk's Son. I asked Joe what the natives were drinking and he mentioned Funk's Son is a popular choice. A neat thing about Munich's presentation of this cocktail is they still retain the classic ice vessel. I have had a Dr. Funk's Son served this way only twice before. To see the cocktail come out encased in its own ice jacket: so cool! However, I still don't much like the Son...better to go with Vater Funk.

Vic's was not all potent potables; we also ate quite well. Getting a table was rather a pill though. It was holiday season and the place was hopping, packed full of revelers. No table was available until 10pm! Now, as an American I find late dining to be as appealing as European plumbing. In a spot of brilliance I considered the time difference back home and the new fangled wireless device at my disposal. In what must stand as the ultimate manifestation of my Trader Vic's fanboy status I called in some "air strikes" from Vic's HQ to help me secure a better table. Help from the corporate cavalry was on its way. Still, while I waited I tried the ole midnite charm on our server, Susan. It worked, go figure. She set up a four top for us in the dining room near the bar. Susan was a real sweetheart and we were treated very well by everyone at Munich Vic's.

The three days in Munich were not simply spent waiting for 1700 hours. No way, Hans! One day we took in a couple of the Pinakotheck Museums and enjoyed some very fine art, except for that glowing green installation that got us all Hulky. Those wacky German artists! Better yet, the days in Germany were also a way for me to make the Pilgrimage, my own Car Haj. A good trip was about to get epic. Next stop: Zuffenhausen.

STUTTGART

Munich is home to my cocktail haven, nearby Stuttgart is birthplace to another object of my religious devotion. In a stroke of pure genius the fair Michelle came up with the idea to visit Stuttgart and more precisely the new Porsche Museum. See why I love her? Porsche, Trader Vic's, my best girl. Could things get any better? Well, they could serve a club sandwich at the museum cafe. Still, in the realm of personal happiness, this day was way up there. I was able to stroll amongst the most famous efforts from my favorite marque, including one special model which played a prominent part in my own life. It was an exhilarating trip down memory lane in all its top-down and air-cooled glory. I got to touch "Number One", the first ever Porsche. Michelle had to drag me away before I signed papers at the dealership across the street for a Guards Red beauty and took European Delivery right there and then. I had to settle for a nice photo book. Plus, you know what they say about red cars anyway.

PRAGUE

As my travels continue I face the dilemma of expanding my tally of places to revisit while simultaneously maintaining a long list of destinations I have yet to see. Prague was until this trip on the latter but it won't be on the former. For over twenty years I wanted to visit Prague. I recall when the Soviet Union fell and I entertained, for a brief time, the notion of going there like so many other young Americans and starting a business. Prague was the beautiful capital of the country where my Father was born. It was, in a sense, the homeland. In some manner it held a spell over me. I had looked at many photographs of her beautiful cityscape. My international travels started, in earnest, a decade ago. Yet, Prague was backburnered, always the "next place." Years went by and it never was the next place, until now. Oh, the anticipation.

Well, Pip, I'd say those great expectations bettered me. Prague was just, how do I put this, shallow and unfulfilling? More beautiful than all but a few places I have seen yet a city to which I could not warm. She's a beauty, but past the facade it's ugly and somewhat venal. I've known pretty girls like her. Girls from my earlier, and pitifully immature, days. The beauty she possesses will make your heart go arrhythmic. She's the one relying on her looks, playing off her physical attributes, and unable to go beyond that which people have said about her for so long. "So gorgeous, the Paris of Central Europe, a gem of a city, a dreamscape." She transacts in that currency, knows how to please, if only temporarily. You get a little glimpse, a look-see. Pay the price, be with the beautiful girl. "I'm yours" she whispers, "All yours, really." Ahh yes, Prague is that tall blonde with the pale blue eyes and I so want her to be mine.

We alighted in Prague at the infamous Central Prague rail station, Hlavni Nadrazi. Now there's a joy to behold! Dig the Czech train station scene if you can. I cannot. Alarmingly dark, dilapidated, leaking buildings do not warrant my affection. This inglorious beginning to our stay continued as we unduly labored to get across the city to the Mala Strana neighborhood. This is not going as I had envisioned. Why are you treating me so poorly, Prague? Finally, a sanctuary of sort was found at our hotel in the embassy district, right across from the U.S. facility. A bad first impression is all, my love affair with Prague will soon blossom.

Time to eat, time to get this trip moving back in a positive direction. Of the many dining options I found for our stay in Prague one was a well regarded small French bistro near our hotel. We came for the delicious steak entrecote but the cocktail menu had piqued my attention. Not unexpectedly, I heard the siren call of a tropical libation. Could that be the salve to this ghastly introduction to Prague? The gruesome main rail station, the surly locals, the never ending bloat of tourists? Zombie will make it all better. The sweet and familiar nectar of a favorite cocktail will surely soothe this increasingly savage traveling beast. Go forth and find thyself a well-made beverage and its spirits shall lift thou. Yes, that cocktail cometh, and it will be good and...

It's blue. It's a blue drink. A...blue...drink.

Jesus weeps. I had to laugh. I also kept an eye out for errant red cars the rest of the trip.

Prague was not all bad news, hardly. We were quite pleased with the Alchymist Grand Hotel and our walks through the Lesser Quarter. The Charles Bridge in the early morning was a pleasure. Likewise for nearby Kampa Island. I enjoyed the Pilsner Urquell from a Tankovna pub. The small Mucha museum was a treat. By fits and spurts Prague offered contentment, in jerks and fools Prague suffered from too many. Her vistas are beyond spectacular: the red roofs of Mala Strana, the Art Nouvea of Old Town, the Vltava and its many bridges. She is so stunning, yet the city seems evasive, distant. I want to love this place, but am unable. Why? Clarity arrives late one evening as fog crawls over the cityscape. Ethereal light illuminates the gates of Karlov Most. The allure of this moment is breathtaking. It is a scene from centuries ago, one that has captivated so many before. Here it is, repeated again, just for me. Now my thoughts are familiar. I lived this moment years ago whilst under the spell of a similar beauty whose affections I so dearly wanted to recapture. "Say you love me, say I'm the one." was my plea,* "Say it one more time."* Ahh yes, I remember how that one ended. That was a lesson learned. Only this time I stop her before she can respond, "Forget it." I think, "I don't wanna hear it, not this time, not anymore."

Prague, talk to you later. Save it for another guy.

Sandwiches? Oh, I ate a sandwich or two. Worthy of note was the club sandwich at Pusser's in Munich, home of the Painkiller. I wish they had a lighter touch on the mayo but it was still quite good. More surprising was my affection for the house cocktail. It warmed my dodgy heart on a cold night in Munich. Spicy, yummy, rum goodness. On that positive note we end the travel year 2009. For many reasons this year's travels fell a bit short of expectations, great or otherwise. Good times were still had though, from Central Massachusetts to Central Europe. The past was a recurring theme in my trips this year and others. I suppose there was some personal searching amongst all the miles, a retracing of my history. Perhaps I was trying to assess what was lost and why. A decade of travel ends. I retire a well-used passport and recognize it's what can still be that truly matters. Looking backwards is really no way to travel.

I do think it is time to close the chapter on Europe for now. Let's look west, and go east.

Rote Autos, Blaugetränke und Blonde Frauen...sind schlechte Nachrichten.
Herr midnite

Post #499160 by midnite on Tue, Dec 15, 2009 1:31 PM