Success! B finished the marathon in a great time and S became the most popular spectator in Florence after running the first segment by actually clapping and cheering. Italians are mostly too cool to do that. Porcini mushroom pizza is a great way to celebrate, to be followed by a blow-out meal tonight.

November sunset on the Arno

We always forget how beautiful Florence is. This is at least our third visit (fifth to Italy) in the less-than-three years we've been dating. We've both been here enough times that we tried to navigate without a map yesterday (our beautiful laminated map of Florence has perhaps disappeared into the cracks of our apartment?!). Unfortunately, we failed.

Florentine food remains as good as ever. In Pisa yesterday we did have to stop by our favorite bakery (sounds pretty good, doesn't it?) for some Pisan ricciarelli and pine nut cookies. This was after going by the Museo San Matteo, which has the most excellent collection of Pisan crosses in the world. The crosses move from late 12th century ones, which still show the upright form of Jesus merely leaning against the cross, to the 13th and 14th century where he hangs, arms stretched, eyes closed, and head leaning down, every agony traced.

By the time we got to Florence, we were starving. So we found an osteria that had an artichoke special for B and a fish carpaccio to fulfil my desire to try something new almost every meal while travelling. The fish had been smoked somehow, and was served with arugula and fennel. Delicious! Today we went to the marathon mall (this is the reason for the trip: while I was able to run in Frankfurt four weeks ago, B came down with food poisoning and couldn't run). The marathon goody bag here was amazing: a technical long-sleeve shirt, warm winter running pants, a gel, a gel wrist pouch, and more. The rain was pouring down as we headed back to the hotel, changed, and then across the river to the Via Santo Spirito, which houses a series of pretty consistently good restaurants. For lunch, then, I had another artichoke salad (B went with the mixed bruschetta, which was very good), my first bowl of ribollita (I know, embarrassing!) and the most amazing fritto misto, consisting of incredibly tasty mushrooms and two whole deep-fried squash blossoms, whose delicate taste and texture absolutely made my day. B went all the way: pasta with white truffles. Mmmmmm! (A favorite cookbook author always quotes her Italian grandmother saying "Fritto, anche un stivalo" [fried, I would eat even an old shoe]. My squash blossoms were nothing like an old shoe.)

Then it was off to the Brancacci Chapel, where Masaccio's frescoes retain their fresh expressiveness and naturalism. We spent the most time enjoying the properly Protestant (or proleptically Protestant) painting of Peter's fish with caesar's coin inside: the attitude of the disciples, Masaccio showing off his technical virtuousity, and down in the corner the picture of Paul visiting Peter in prison (as if!!). Now we're resting up for tomorrow. The fantastic marathon course is tempting me to run the full, but my knee has made it clear that I should stop at the halfway point. It won't be an official result, but at least I can see my time and cheer B on should he survive without vomiting or other accidents.

Bebenhausen

Bebenhausen I

Bebenhausen II

Bebenhausen III

Snow in Tübingen

Snow on the roof of the Evangelisches Stift

Snow on the roofs of the buildings Am Markt

We awoke to snow falling this morning. We welcomed it feeling assured that our marathon, which is now only a week away, would be nice and chilly (or at any rate a far cry from the oppressive heat that greeted marathoners in Chicago a few weeks ago).

The semester has just gotten underway, but much of the excitement and sense of new beginnings has past us by, although that today's sermon assured us that faith is always a new beginning (a contention that met a bit of resistance when the text for meditation detailed Joshua's military exploits in Palestine)! The preaching at the Stiftskirche aside, we both feel a bit behind with respect to some of the goals around which our Fall activity has been ostensively structured. S has, however, found the prospect of the upcoming trip back home an incentive to plod ahead with disseration work. For my part the recent work I've picked up has helped to structure my week, but is draining some of the energy that researching and applying to programs demands. I'm teaching six classes a week and will start picking up additional hours as a Hiwi (wissenschaftliche Hilfskraft [research assistant]) for a theologian at the university here as soon as I can collect the requisite paperwork.

I know I just posted, but here's another.

One of the benefits of training for a marathon (only two weeks to go!) is how much you get to eat. During the last 8 weeks, I've run about 34 miles a week. That's not much when training for a marathon, but given my injury history, I'm so pleased. Not only have I gotten WAY faster (although I am still a tortoise in a world of hares), I also get to eat. All the time. As much as I want. And no, I haven't gained any weight. B's bad eating habits have been rubbing off on me--chocolate, these delicious cream-filled things that one of the half-dozen bakeries within two minutes walk sells--but generally, I've kept it under control.

On Friday, we each did an 8-mile tempo run. Although we were supposed to do a 15-miler today, we had to change it to yesterday as B has a game today. And let me tell you, trying to run 15 miles after doing 8 miles the fastest you've ever gone is no fun at all. So we cut the run "short" at about 12 1/2 miles. We were hurting, and I mean HURTING! Legs, calves, everything--I felt like my lower half was running 7 minute miles while my upper half was running 13 minute miles--no cardiovascular effort, but pain in the lower body! So B just went off to his game. But I, thankfully, have the day off. And I decided that I want sweets!

There's not much in the house so this recipe (without baking powder or sugar, with a bit more honey, and with quantities reduced) with lavender added became the basis for the dessert I just made. SOOOO delicious! Here's the bad part: I just ate the whole thing. If B finds out, he won't be happy! So tomorrow, when the stores open, I'll have to get some more ingredients.

The lavender I got at the local market adds so much to such different recipes! Savory, sweet--a drop of lavender works in many, many contexts.

Now, though, I'm full!

There hasn't been much news coming from us lately, as we've finally had the chance to start... just settling in. Our sofa and chair arrived this week, we mounted the mirror, but the famed guest bed is not here yet as they could not get it up the stairs. Hopefully, it will arrive in about 8 days. Our twisty-turny stairs are a bit difficult to navigate. Sometimes I think this house looks like the basic structure was built ages and ages ago, and then modifications were just made here and there and on top of each other (at one point, coming up the stairs, you see what seem once to have been doors into the neighboring house, but only the bottom third...?).

Without much exciting to report, let's talk about food. I hate pizza, as everyone who knows me knows. I HATE pizza. It is my most-hated food almost of all time. I do not like it. It's gross! There's too much cheese, too much sauce, and too much useless fat. (Fat exists to add to flavor, not to pool uselessly on top of the far-too-much cheese.) Of course, there are exceptions. When my family used to go to Rome when I was 12-14 years old, there was a pizza place near the Pantheon that sold the most amazing artichoke pizza, which basically consisted of flatbread topped with artichokes and oregano. That was it. And it was good! We'd fight over it in the train! Normally, though, ugh!

On the other hand, I LOVE my own homemade pizza. Yeah, I consider myself a decent cook, but nothing fantastic. My own pizzas, though? Amazing! On Thursday, I was wondering what to make for lunch. We had pretty much nothing in the house other than potatoes, and I was HUNGRY. So, pizza it is. You cut the potatoes super-thin (those big holes on the side of the grater are pretty good for this), cook them until tender over high heat with little oil in a non-stick pan, cut lots of garlic into thin slices and combine with crushed dried chiles, sage, rosemary, and (bear with me) a tiny bit of lavender. Sprinkle over the pizza dough, top with potatoes, add a little salt, some goat cheese, and a sprinkling of parmesan, cook in the super-hot oven for about 7 minutes, and bingo! Pizza. Even better is the version we tried last night: with thin eggplant slices (cooked in a hot oven), spread with a layer of non-fat quark, and dotted (thickly!) with homemade parsley pesto from a mortar. WOW!

I've always made pesto in a food processor (and yes, I know, PESTO is really only made with basil, pine or walnuts, and a mixture of parmesan and pecorino, but whatever!) and am addicted to every version I've ever tried. But one of the best ever is parsley pesto, made of course with flat-leaf parsley (the other kind has no flavor). In the food processor, it takes about 90 seconds to make and comes out really good. Here, I have no food processor, but I do have a mortar and pestle (the heavy marble kind). I tried making basil pesto the other day, but it came out a little stringy (probably because the basil wasn't quite at its peak). So I decided to go for some parsley pesto. I rough-chopped the parsley into the mortar with scissors, added some salt, and started pounding. Soon I was greeted with the most intoxicating of aromas. Throw in a clove or two of garlic, keep pounding, then rough-crush the walnuts and start tossing them in (I think walnuts have more body and stand up better to the earthiness of parsley pesto). Finish with a good drizzle of olive or walnut oil (bought at the regional market last weekend, so I know it came from local trees--cool!). Then stir in a little grated parmesan or pecorino. Amazing, in any form, but perhaps most especially with runny eggs in the morning.

Hey, primitive living has its compensations, right?

Our new place is everything we could have hoped for minus the fact that it has demanded a lot in the way of human labor to make it livable. Here are a few before and after shots of the bedroom and kitchen (the only two rooms that in anyway approximate completion). Bedroom before

Bedroom after

Kitchen before

Kitchen after

Kitchen before

Kitchen after

We've moved! Sort of. The stove in our new place came yesterday, but it still has to be connected. The living room is partially oiled (the wood needed some treatment), but we ran out of oil and couldn't get more, so it's not quite finished. We did install a cool closet treatment in the closet room, a couple of racks in the kitchen, and we built a workspace/cart that we got at Ikea yesterday since there are no countertops, cupboards, or anything similar in the kitchen. We have no hot water and the toilet seat is not attached to the toilet. BUT: we have a bed. If we compare the current bed with the king-size bed of days of yore, it shrinks into insignificance. But if we compare it to the mummy-shaped camping mattress in the tiny hole? It suddenly seems like acres of paradise. Although the bells of the Evangelische Stift do not intend to allow us lazybones to sleep beyond seven am, there is little or no traffic here and that is delightful after listening to the 3am road races at the old place. We still go back to the other apartment to cook and shower, but we'll be out of there tomorrow.

It was great to have a visit from an old friend who is also over here in Germany this weekend. Not only were we able to use his strong muscles to help us carry our new (antique) Spanish chest from the Flohmarkt (flea market) to the new apartment, but we were able to eat, talk, and plan dissertations and trips. After he left, B and I headed out for what promised to be a delightful, relaxing 15-16 miler after last weekend's 20plus. I'd carefully planned out a new route that took us past the cloister at Bebenhausen, up through the woods, and back along the Neckar. The first hour or so was as delightful as promised, but then we started having trouble finding the way. This broke things up a bit so that it was hard to settle into a rhythm. As long as we remained in the woods, it wasn't so bad. At the point where we were supposed to be returning along the Neckar, however, it turned out that we were initially returning along the Autobahn. Far less pleasant! Eventually we hit the path that brought us through clinging vegetation along the bottom of a cliff--much nicer than it sounds, except that it was getting dark. Neither of us could figure out why it was getting dark so early, though. Stranded at last on a two-way highway bridge with deceptive footpaths that lead us onto the bridge and then left us, we finally climbed down in the dark and accosted a man with two children and some glow-in-the-dark balloons. We were only a mile and a half from home, but when I turned off the heart rate monitor to check the time, we realized that it was so dark because we had somehow spent 50 minutes along the way looking for the way! In other words, a run that was thankfully, gratefully forgotten as soon as it was over.

Today is a holiday in Germany (Reunification Day), but no one celebrates. Unfortunately, the stores close anyway, so we won't have oil for the floor or screws to attach our new Ikea purchases to the wall (don't get me started on our trek from the Ikea south of Stuttgart to the subway station... sweat, misery, and cross-training with heavy heavy furniture are all involved, plus locals calling us crazy). Coming home to discover that the new bathroom lamp was half missing, the new mirror and towel rack have no screws included, and so on? Not fun! But as I write this over the stable internet connection IN BED!! and watch the sun stream in through our (multiple!) windows onto the wood floor and the newly laid bedroom carpet, who cares?

On Sunday, I attended the Stiftskirche here while B headed south to play lacrosse. We were both pretty sore and miserable after covering a full 32 km/20 miles Saturday evening. We ran from Tübingen to Unterjesingen, to Pfäffingen, to Poltringen, to Wurmlingen, to Rottenburg am Neckar, to Hirschau, and back here. Although I got totally exhausted, and B ended up trying to steal apples from trees to sate his hunger, it was a lovely way to get a sense of the countryside. According to all the weather reports, we are coming to the end of the summery fall weather we've been enjoying, but the beautiful weather has been bringing out people in droves. Our run through Rottenburg was complemented by the presence of medieval knights celebrating medieval week in full dress.

While my Sunday was a restful recovery day, B headed three hours away to play lacrosse with his old team. They won both their games by a substantial margin, but he hasn't stopped moaning and groaning since. Last night, he was even doing it in his sleep, until I (mostly asleep also) tearily begged him to stop so I could get some rest! We both break out in longing exclamations whenever we see a bed larger than the narrow pallet that serves us on more or less alternate nights. We've even started imagining that a full-size bed might be large enough, while back in the US, a king-size was the minimum we could handle.

This evening we headed into the Altstadt to hunt for a grater. Ever since returning from this summer's trip, my favorite meal has been som tam (green papaya salad) and tom yum (spicy sour soup with mushrooms or similar). However, green papayas are quite expensive in Europe. In Norway, we paid 11 Euros for two, while here, the going rate is 1.30 Euros for 100 grams (a large papaya is about 500g). An unorthodox solution, albeit delicious, turns out to be buying very unripe papayas at the local supermarket (YES! there is one!! Right next to the historic nuns' house!!!), which cost 1 Euro each, and using those instead. However. The kitchen, to dignify it with an undeserved name, that we are currently using, does not include a grater. The other day, I made papaya/cucumber salad with a peeler, but it took about an hour and my hand was cramping for some time afterward. So, grater needed. Did everyone but me know that graters can cost over 50 Euros easily? Of course, the Altstadt tends expensive, but that is pretty out of control. Especially when the Verkäuferinnen give you evil looks for not wanting to spend that much! We did find a cheaper one eventually, and just gorged on papaya-cucumber-lime-lemon-habanero salad. Thankfully, the Asian market is just around the corner.

Everytime we go somewhere, we decide just to walk by the new place to look at it. Even though showering in the kitchen and using the bathroom in the room that leads to the attic will be somewhat inconvenient, and we'll miss the cable TV with 42 channels that has been keeping us updated on all soccer events (hello, Mourinho!! and will Klinsi be hired?), we cannot wait to be able to shut the door on each other. Our landlady was wondering how that can be such a necessity after only six months of marriage. Perhaps the camping mattress has something to do with it?

Yesterday we furnished pretty much an entire kitchen for a total of 18 euros. This included buying a full set of Ikea pots and pans, never used, small and large plates, coffee cups, a frying set (but that seems made for pasta--easy draining!), a small marble cutting board for cheese, a wooden one for other things, and more. There is such an excellent used store here! We also hopefully found a fridge. Yes, we pretty much have to furnish a whole kitchen, although there is hope that we only have to find a fridge and not a stove as well. The stove may arrive early in the month. Our kitchen, while very stylish (stone floor!), is hardly... modern. Given that we now know that there are documents on the house our new apartment is in that go back 500 years, that is not, perhaps, difficult to explain. (Which also explains why the floor in one of the rooms tilts.) Tempting as it is to go crazy in the used store buying cute individual pieces, we need to get a sofa first so we can build things around it.

B is hoping to start playing lacrosse again soon, while I really want to be able to settle down and get to work. But while there is still so much undone, and we still take turns sleeping on the camping mattress, and space is still so tight, it´s hard. We measured our new place yesterday (some 50+ square meters, just over half the size of the old place), and took a measuring rod to the current one as well. No wonder we feel cramped! It is a beautiful total of 17 square meters (ca 180 square feet). I thought it looked rather like my high school room, where my best friend and I shared 12 square meters, but of course that did not include a kitchen area, bathroom, and shower--so no wonder there´s no room for two beds!

But no more complaining. In two weeks or less, we´ll be living in our charmingly inconvenient 15th or so century apartment.

We have the apartment. We move in October 4. Everyone who is planning to visit us: you are going to LOVE this place, and there will be plenty of room. Although not perhaps very much furniture!

Disappointing results in the Stadtlauf today, although I beat 2/3 of women and B was in the top 1/6 of men. Still, we were both hoping to run somewhat faster. It got HOT, though, and it took the first half of the first round not to be stepping on people´s feet and trying to pass all the time. We´re still trying to focus on the marathon. But in any case, all disappointment forgotten as we will 1) NOT be paying $2000 just to move in somewhere 2) NOT be staying in an apartment of 250 square feet much longer 3) NOT be dealing with brokers and other suspicious strangers 4) NOT be commuting in from Stuttgart 5) NOT be living outside the Altstadt 6) NOT be using my ENTIRE stipend JUST to pay the rent. So yay!

We have a lead on an apartment! If we believed in anything superstitious, we´d be requesting lots of good karma or some crap like that, but oh what annoyance, it´s out of our control so all we can do is hope. This place is amazing. In contrast to yesterday´s very expensive one, this apartment is charmingly run-down as it is in a house that is probably several hundred years old. The place is full of beautiful old-fashioned dark wood-work and even has a gorgeous brown ceramic wood-burning stove in the kitchen. The family renting it out has not advertised it (we heard by word of mouth) and the father is a theologian/philosopher who knows Ratzinger, among others. They are Middle Eastern, so instead of setting up an appointment to view the apartment, we were invited for coffee and cake. The mother had baked the cake specially! Turns out we have lots in common and finally, ten minutes before we have to leave, we get to see the apartment upstairs, which is still being renovated but is SO PERFECT: there´s even a view of the Marktplatz. There´s plenty of space, more than we need, and again the shower is in the kitchen and the bathroom in the hall, but in a charming/cute way rather than in the unappealing un-cared-for way of the last place. Plus, the room that the bathroom is in is directly adjacent, and also contains the absolutely most stunning old stairway up to the attic. We have no idea what the rent would be, since that is one of the things that didn´t come up, but I suspect manageable, and it would be flexible in relation to our time here (i.e., not having to pretend that we´re planning to stay forever). As B said, if he had less theological backbone, he´d be tempted to say that we were meant to have this apartment. Although perhaps it is just a mirage? We both agreed that we can stick it out for two more weeks where we currently are IF and only if we have the prospect of this place on the horizon.

We´ll hear on Sunday.

I Formaggi di Umbria

Artichoke Flowers

So I knew there was a reason we moved to Tübingen. Admittedly, since we've been here, we've found it difficult to remember what it was. But now it is clear: the Umbrian-Provencal market opened in the Altstadt today. HEAVEN!! Perhaps the highlight was the pasta with truffle sauce (4 EUR), but also the pecorino with grape must, or with truffles, or the horse milk cheese that we bought (at least that's what it seemed to say! It's really good), or the pickled salted lemons from Provence, or the panforte, the amazing bread with walnuts and olives, the unfiltered tasty olive oil, or I know not what. An orgy of eating has reconciled us somewhat to the difficulties of existence (more banking problems, for instance).

The market fills up the entire old city with people from all over the region. While local restaurants take advantage of the massive crowds of people as well, there are plenty of salespeople who speak only French or only Italian. Indeed, the cheese guy asked B if he was really Italian? Which, not so much, but cool. We also stocked up on baby artichokes for only 3.50 EUR per kilo, which we will clean and deepfry tomorrow. We're both running pretty much daily, which leaves B starving all the time, and the fridge here is only half-size, so we do a lot of shopping.

We also saw the most gorgeous apartment ever today. Yes, it's the one with the $2000 fee, and there's pretty much no way we can make it work, but what if we can't find anything else? The apartment is much larger than we had realized, with a separate bedroom, sun on all sides (it's the highest floor), an absolutely amazing kitchen--indeed, the whole place was renovated in April, but the guy who has it now is a commuter and was hardly ever here, so he couldn't justify keeping the place. I don't know if we could get it even if we could somehow borrow the money from somewhere, but it is simply the nicest place I have ever seen to live--nothing over-the-top fancy, just so simple and perfect. And since we've finally found the bike path that follows the Neckar, running would be literally at our feet.

We're both getting a bit nervous about the Stadtlauf on Sunday. Not that I have any intention of racing, due both to my general slowness as well as the fact that we are in the middle of the hardest weeks of marathon training, but it turns out to be such a big deal that it's going to be hard not to get carried away. It's the highlight of the market weekend, all the stores will be open, world champions and Olympic medalists are running, and every newspaper and TV show in the local region is talking about it. Hopefully we'll manage to focus on the fun, cheer each other on (B is running with the fast runners, me half an hour earlier with the slowies), and not injure ourselves. After all, the marathon is the real goal this fall.

Here is one of the concept cars used to test trial steering mechanisms.

The chic exterior of the Mercedes-Benz Museum.

Yesterday we headed off to Stuttgart with my German class for an excursion. Since we've been in Tübingen for all of 10 days, we were itching to move around some more. Kidding! But Stuttgart was great.

We started off in the Haus der Geschichte for Baden-Württemberg. Normally, such history museums are pretty standard: start off with early or pre-history, then have some random historical exhibits, followed by some lousy art which no one really wanted to put in a real museum. But this one is a pretty different story. Shall we just say that this Bundesland is LOADED, and so has spent more money on their museum (which opened in 2003) than any other region I've ever seen?! At the entrance, there's a fabulous map of the region that lights up as you step on it, allowing you to highlight the areas of interest to you as you jump around on the map. The tour through the museum then continues with Napoleon (alliances), poverty post-Napoleon, emigration to the US (numbers in the millions!) in the early and mid-19th century, Württemberg soldiers in the Civil War, consolidation into one country in 1871 (although for some reason that seemed pretty downplayed...), World War I, post-WWII devastation and rebuilding, and so on. The exhibits were excellent--for instance, in the section on the 1848 revolution, the floor tiles are actually loose to give the visitor a feeling of uncertainty! On the final floor there was a series of thematic exhibits showing immigration to BW, how BW despite its lack of natural resources has used inventiveness to get ahead (long exhibit on companies no one has ever heard of, but I'm sure they're making tons of money!), and so on. Most interesting to us was a section on BW thinkers. Lots of Ernst Bloch, including a first edition of Prinzip der Hoffnung. Fascinating stuff belonging to Jaspers, including the letter removing him from his teaching position (sending him into Ruhestand) because he was married to a Jew. Not coincidentally, I think, displayed right next to Heidegger's things. His letter accepting the rectorship of Freiburg. A first edition of the speech he gave when he accepted the position--the one where he famously says that a university must find its own identity and essence in order to adequately support the Nazi state. The letter where he resigns his position the next year. A heil Hitler signature. And, most interestingly, the academic garments he continued to wear at formal functions, signifying his position in the philosophy department, even long after he was removed from teaching after the war. There were also some of Gadamer's belongings, as well as a picture of him and Heidegger together at some elite seminar in Heidelberg. So a little candy shop for philosophy/theology types!

Next we headed out to find some Schwäbisches food. Having filled up on cheese, cream, and white flour (for vegetarians, Schwäbisches Essen is kind of monotonous!), we headed to the Stiftskirche, which was renovated in 2003. Although there has been some kind of church there since at least about 1170, there's little left of the original structure. (Among other things, almost the entire church was bombed during WWII, when 80% of Stuttgart was destroyed as it was an industrial center. A very interesting speech by Helmut Thielicke, the famous German theologian, is on display, where he talks about how much the church has meant to the community and reflects on what God may be trying to teach by allowing the church to be destroyed.) The current structure is stunningly elegant and well-proportioned, one of the most successful mixes of the traditional and modern that I've seen. The cool stone structure is traditional, but the stained-glass windows are (except in the front) kept in gray-green-blue tones to emphasize the starkness of their portrayals of the biblical figures, including a fantastic resurrection/ascention/Christ triumphant. The ceiling is decorated with steel-colored metal kind of stars: difficult to describe, but very effective. The gray pews and organ complete the effect. Absolutely a demonstration of the fact that Protestant churches can be as aesthetically effective and meaningful as any other kind.

Then we headed back to the Staatsgalerie. We had wanted as usual to peruse the collection of older art, but it is currently closed to the public as that section of the building is being restored. The new section, the postmodern building by the English architect James Stirling, was impressive enough on its own, however. The museum has the single most complete collection of Max Beckmann that I have ever seen, including a fabulous juxtaposition of his Auferstehung (resurrection) of 1909 with one from 1916. Most fascinating was perhaps Joseph Beuys' Crucifixion (see this link for an image), where Christ is represented (or absented) by a hanging needle. There were too many other treasures to mention, and by the time we got there we were tired enough that it was clear we will have to return repeatedly to give the collection our full attention.

Our final stop was the Mercedes-Benz museum near the Stuttgart soccer stadium. It is certainly a massive advertising success. Seven plus stories of Mercedes mythology. You are met at the entrance by sharp-suited executive-looking types who have clipboards with information about the day's groups. The free audio guide automatically picks up on your entrance into a new room, and starts describing the collection. The cars are absolutely the shiniest, most gorgeous things you have ever seen, but it gets a bit overloaded after a while. I mean, this is advertising! I can only get so excited... especially when the historical-contextual exhibits make sure to mention that the factories were damaged during WWII, but make no mention whatsoever about why that might be the case. (The fact that the company was designing and producing tanks, for instance. And of course Hitler's cars are not included in the gallery of famous people's cars, although Arnie's is, along with the Papamobile.) But whatever. You even get to keep the fancy lanyard that your audio guide hangs from, so all in all I'd call it successful advertising!

So I got sent home from German class today. When the teacher tells you that you might as well go home because there´s no point in staying, things are bad indeed. But we´re feeling slightly more optimistic on the apartment front. The place with the bathroom in the hallway (down a flight of stairs, as it turns out) was not too inviting: large, perfectly located, but really run-down and requiring a LOT of work to become habitable. We have appointments to see three more places this week, including the perfect apartment and one that may even be furnished! At the same time, we´re considering whether it might not make more sense just to move to Stuttgart (I would commute), since even downtown there prices seem to be hundreds of Euros less per month. Plus it would be easier for B to find work.

In other words, living on top of each other in a tiny place with little income and few prospects, we´re just where we ought to be on our six-month anniversary. We´ve amused ourselves by writing endings to this story if it were in a book (B would start drinking, I´d get bitter) but since this is only a temporary situation such endings seem a bit over-dramatized.

Today we got health insurance for me so that B can be co-insured until he gets a job. Then he might have to get insured on his own, although I'm not entirely sure how they would/could check on this. It will double the price. Oh well. At least they charge afterwards (so the first payment won't be until mid-November) and the insurance doesn't start until October 1. The woman at the Krankenkasse was kind enough not to write this on the proof of insurance that she gave us for B to show for his work permit.

I think we're starting to figure out how to deal with all the paperwork here. Today I made copies of everything I could think of, brought them to the post office where I had to prove my identity to get a bank account, to the Krankenkasse for the health insurance, and printed out even more stuff from various bank accounts to take to the Amt (office) on Monday when we will hopefully get B's work permit. Everywhere we've gone, people are very pleased when we have multiple copies of our marriage license, my Zulassungsbescheid (admission to the university), our registration with the city, and so on. Everything has to be documented. B called a vocational school that was looking for a teacher today, and they simply wouldn't accept his qualifications (the Yale degree and so on) unless they had been vetted by the state office here first. And so it goes.

After going to the Krankenkasse, we set off on a hunt for the used bicycle store. I got an adorable old-fashioned brown city bike, while B picked up a road bike. Mine came fully equipped with the legally required lights and with a basket for groceries, but of course B is much more interested in speed so he will have to buy a light to be legal. But the prices were great--40 EUR for mine and 75 for his. We rode the bikes to the running paths on the hill, or part of the way. I'm going to need some training before I can get up there with only 3 gears. B had picked up some delicious food at the market today--salmon, arugula, tomatoes, raspberries, cheese--so we had a lovely dinner just now and are feeling a bit more content with life.

We went to another expensive rental agency today to see if they had anything for us. I have no idea what these agencies do, because this one just gave us two addresses and phone numbers and then if you make a contract, which you do with the owner of the apartment anyway, you come back and pay them over a thousand dollars for what exactly? Turns out one of the two apartments the agency gave us was gone already--maybe the other one too? It's making it more tempting to go for the PERFECT apartment which we know will be available to see on Monday, but what if we can't get it? Plus, the agency fee on that one is UNBELIEVABLE, over two thousand dollars. I don't know how married people do it here. Obviously, it's easier if you're single, because you can rent a room in a shared apartment, of which there are plenty. But for us, that's not really an option, and not only because we're married. I can't take living with other people after living on my own for eight years. Even here, where our apartment is separate from the other rooms on this floor, we've been invaded by fruit flies because the Mitbewohner (other tenants) leave food out in the kitchen for days without cleaning it up. Pretty disgusting!

At least I don't have to go to German class until Tuesday!

So today I had my first full day of German classes. And, well, this isn't really going to work. The woman organizing my exchange program had promised to put me in a different class and, apparently, promptly forgotten about it. I was placed in the highest of three levels, but unfortunately, that doesn't mean much. Today? We repeated the Plusquamperfektum (we had done), a tense that I learned when I was (I'm not exaggerating) 12 years old. Then we did Futur I and II (will do, will have done)--unfortunately, I seemed to be the only one again who had learned Futur II before. Then we were given a list of irregular verbs to practice. Need I repeat that we were all memorizing those on the train as we commuted to school in junior high, and (even had I wanted) I have never been able to forget them? So it looks like I'll just attend the parts of the class where we might possibly do something I haven't already done a million times, and work on some theological/philosophical writing practice in the afternoons. The other kids (they seem so young!!) who are taking the class are college-age, and not really that focused on learning anyway, so that's even more frustrating to me when I have so much I really need to do and am wasting time in this class.

So I've sent an e-mail to find out if the shower-in-kitchen apartment is still available. I don't know if we could handle that, though. Also, it sounds like there are effectively two bedrooms but no living room--depending on the layout, that might be unpleasant. Another apartment came up today--I'm practically sitting on the phone hoping to hear back from the guy--which would be cheap and well located, but very much still on the small side. Given how difficult it has been living on top of each other even for the few days we've been here, we might not be able to handle a little closet-sized place!

It is cold here. Very cold. I'm trying not to complain after spending a summer being hot! But we've turned the heat on in the apartment! Already! Why did I leave my favorite wool coat in Norway, thinking I wouldn't need it for months? Of course, last week temps were in the high 20s/low 30s C, so maybe this won't last either. On a lighter note, I have a Handy (cellphone) now, and B's old number turns out still to work, so anyone who wants to give us a call and/or donate money to the decent-apartment fund, please get in touch!

We arrived in Tübingen on Monday, tired after lugging about 60 kilos each of luggage on the plane and then on three different trains. The train we had to run for in the rain? Not a good time. This town is even cuter than I remembered, but it is not going to be easy to find a place to stay. We've been trying to get in touch with a company that is renting out an apartment that looks very ideal for us, but despite having left a message and stopped by, no one has gotten back to us. Very strange. Another apartment has an ideal location, but according to the ad, the shower is in the kitchen and the W/C in the stairwell! Should we call, or not? Votes? (Note: even with these fairly major disadvantages, the rent is still almost $900!! For a 5-600 square foot apartment, half the size of my former apartment.)

We're currently living in a 25 square meter (generously measured) apartment that we rented from an Israeli Arab med student. It is small. Very small. Our stuff is everywhere. The kitchen is a half-sized fridge with two burners and no stove. But we were lucky to get it. The location is right on the edge of the Altstadt (old town), so it is convenient for everything we want.

It is going to be a hassle to get B his work permit here, although we should manage it in the end. As it turns out, because he doesn't have a job yet, I have to prove that I can support him--bank account printouts, proof of my income, etc. But the moment he has work, he has a permit to work, if you know what I mean. Even though I have health insurance, I might have to buy it again here just to get him covered at the student rate--another $75 per month that we don't particularly want to spend! So I'm hoping he gets a job, any job, ASAP, because it's going to be tight if not.

Here is a row of adorable fairy tale houses that sit on the northern bank of the Neckar. The northern bank of the Neckar marks the southern threshold of the Altstadt -- the area which we are combing for affordable housing. Inside the frame where the midground tree hits the background roofs (way to the left) you'll find the outlines of the Evangelische Stift which was once home to students the likes of Hegel, Holderlin, Schelling and Kepler. Students in Theology still live there. It's most charmingly located.

Boats on the Neckar

This is Am Markt -- the historic center of the city and the heart of the Altstadt. The Rathaus is on the left. The other buildings contain quaint cafes, restuarants, businesses, and apartments.

To the left is the Stiftskirche. These are typical cute buildings in the Altstadt.

View of Oslofjord from House

Everyone here in Norway says that the weather has been terrible this summer, but we've seen nothing of it. Sunny, comfortable: no more 36C/90% humidity. (Apparently athletes in Osaka have been collapsing at 33C/78%, so no wonder the running was hard!) We ran five times this week, which may be overdoing it a little but it's so tempting. As I write, I'm looking out at the sails on Oslo fjord. Maybe B will post a picture later, but the truth is that we haven't been anywhere on this trip that is more beautiful than Norway.

1. Most beautiful landscape: in Vietnam, between Sapa and Dien Bien Phu.

2. Noisiest: Hanoi.

3. Friendliest: Nong Kiow, Lao.

4. Furthest from anywhere: Gobi desert, staying with nomad families.

5. Most awesome city: Hong Kong. Not sure most other places are really cities.

6. Most peaceful escape from city: Beijing parks. The city is noisy and busy, but the parks, while full of people, are amazingly relaxing.

7. Worst (and only) sunburn: kayaking in Halong Bay, Vietnam.

8. Places we most want to return to: Laos, Beijing, and Mongolia, in that order.

9. Place we least want to return to: Izmaylovskaya park, Moscow. Or Russia, in general. At least not until we speak Russian.

10. Next major trip: probably the Black Sea.

11. Favorite hotel: Beijing Lotus hostel west of the Forbidden City. It had soft beds, a beautiful courtyard, was outside the main tourist areas, and we had our own shower and A/C. It was just such a blessing after Russia! And after days on the train and in Mongolia with no shower. Second place: the Madison Hotel and Sportclub in Düsseldorf, which also had wonderfully comfortable beds and friendly staff. Third: the five-star Langham Place hotel in Hong Kong with the most excellent views from Mong Kok.

12. Least favorite hotel: Lane Xang, Vientiane, although we didn't end up staying there. Second place: so-called "Old Quarters" hotel in Hanoi, which didn't even exist and had the rudest staff I have ever encountered at a hotel.

13. Least paid for a night's lodging: $5 for a room with own bathroom and scoop shower in Muang Khua (most expensive room in the guesthouse).

14. Cheapest meal (sit-down restaurant): Indian food in Vientiane, where ordering far more food than we could eat and drinks galore left us with a bill of $3 each.

15. Cheapest meal: fried skewers on the street in Beijing. Delicious! I came back from the trip determined to eat less pasta and bread, but am already falling back into wonted habits. I'm making delicious som tam almost every day, but green papaya costs 10EUR/kg in Norway so we've tried to develop a cabbage version which is actually quite good. We also were able to get hold of mangosteen, but they're even more expensive.

16. Most pleasant flight: Air China from Beijing to Guangzhou. Close second was the flight from Bangkok to Tehran, although we were nervous. Very friendly flight attendants on Mahan, although not perhaps the most experienced.

17. Least pleasant segment of the trip: overnight train from Hanoi to Sapa; let it be forgotten and sink into deserved obscurity.

18. Biggest difference everywhere we went from home: the proximity of animals. We've both meant to post on this, and we still might (we'll continue blogging at least until settled in Germany). Even behind my house, you don't have far to go before you encounter horses and cows grazing outside in the summer. But I could easily live much of my life without coming into contact with any animals, especially if I avoided the pasture on the way to the lake. But for most of our trip, that was not an option no matter where we were or what conditions we were staying in. In Russia, wild/stray dogs and cats are everywhere, and you don't have to get far into the countryside before cows are wandering close to houses that may also keep chickens, depending on the area. In Mongolia, the goats were impossible to avoid. My

19. Favorite animal of the trip: the goat that climbed into B's bed after having cleverly gotten through the barrier B had erected. Even in the center of Beijing, it was clear that animals were being raised for food, and we were never very far after that from chickens, goats, water buffaloes, and other animals that live side by side with people. It certainly made it very easy to see how people get bird flu, whether that ever turns into a pandemic or not. I'm also not used to animals just being allowed to graze where they wish, but it makes sense in less-trafficked areas that there is little reason to keep the animals from finding their own sustenance. And drivers are usually prepared for the water buffalo around the corner--it's probably one of the reasons there's so much honking in Vietnam, but maybe people just like noise too...

20. Scariest moment of the trip: dogs in Izmaylovskaya park in Moscow. (How does this keep coming up again?)

Three styles of Thai stupas Bangkok's Golden Palace: the first and oldest, Sukhothai; Ayudhaya; and Khmer.

It’s back to 20baht meals since S and B left. The food is often very good for what amounts to less than a dollar, but for some extra baht you can get great service, beautifully presented food, and fun ambiance. It’s hard to convince the locals to go all out on a regular basis, so it was great to have S and B to hop from one good place to the next—everyday! Even if in the delicious food courts in Bangkok malls! Missing the food spree already. Glad you all made it back safe.

Our safe arrival last night in Düsseldorf was accompanied by intense feelings of relief. Our last 40hrs in Bangkok proved stressful beyond belief. While we were aware that many countries in the Middle East, Iran included, deny visa requests and entry to individuals who have been to the occupied territories (the way Israel is referred to amongst those states who refuse to recognize its existence as legitimate), we did not know that Iran also denies transit to individuals who have been to the occupied territories (we flew the Tehran based Iranian airline Mahan Air). S and I have both been to Israel, but S, lucky her, was travelling on a passport that had not been. We debated everything from ripping out the page to glueing it to the adjacent page to sticking the baggage tickets over the prominent Ben Gurion visa stamps. We decided to nothing hoping that always showing the passport already opened to the picture page would deter the impulse to flip through the other pages. Plan B invovled S practicing phrases of Koranic Arabic that she would use to plead to the authorities in case of emergency. S was right to assume that the Farsi speaking Iranians would understand her basic Arabic, but we found this out by ordering vegetarian lunch at the cafe and not through an unpleasant confrontation with Iranian customs officials. The passport was checked twice and in both instances only the picture page was examined. The drama of the situation was highlighted by the lead story that headlined Iran´s english daily "Iran News" -- "Israel is Flag of Satan". It was a pleasure to read this story as the plane took off on its way to Düssedorf. It was interesting to note in Tehran´s Airport just how few interenational flights actually pass through the country daily. Only one (that we could see from the flight board) flies to Europe (the UK recently revoked Mahan´s license to fly its daily flights to Birmingham and Manchester on safety grounds). The country is isolated and it´s not helping that Condy Rice just took steps to have Iran Revolutionary Guard a terrorist organization in order to further control the country.

Now that B is on the mend, I can get back to blogging about important things like food. I have to mention a couple of things we've eaten recently in case I forget. I just picked up a Thai and a Sichuan cookbook at the best English-language bookstore in Bangkok, but I'm pretty sure neither of these dishes will be in the cookbooks. My Thai favorites, som tam and tom yum, both are, but in the last couple days in Chiang Mai we ate a few unusual things that I don't know if we'll find again. One day we drove out to the national park just north of the city and ate in a bamboo hut by the reservoir there. We ordered as always the som tam (very very phet--hot papaya salad--soooo good!) and the tom yum (seafood hot and sour soup, phet as well of course) and the fried fish with garlic. Along comes a whole deep-fried fish topped with deep-fried strips of green matter (either Thai basil or kaffir lime leaves--for some reason we couldn't tell) and deep-fried pieces of garlic skin! Now, I eat about a head of garlic a day at home, and for all these years I've been tossing the garlic skin when I could have deep-fried it and had an absolute delicacy to enjoy!

Another day we ate in one of the noveau Thai restaurants which served some (reportedly) delicious mussels in a coconut and some lovely crab--these were of course eaten by my dining companions and not by me. In retaliation, I ordered the fried cashew salad which came with chilis, lime, salt, and green onions--the simplest idea ever, but absolutely the perfect thing to serve for a snack. Although we're cutting back on the spicy food for a day or two--the heartburn I had during my last session of speedwork on the treadmill was probably a sign that I should eat blander food instead of demanding everything maximally spicy at every meal. So today we had sticky rice with mango and coconut for a snack--BEST DESSERT EVER, every time.

Bangkok is supposedly one of the most exciting cities in the world, but we have reached the limit of our ability to take in newness, so today we are hanging out in malls.

No posts for a few days due to anxiety and illness. B's sickness took a turn for the worse early Saturday morning in Vientiane. His fever shot up (although we couldn't find a thermometer that worked, it was clearly high), he developed a very painful headache, and the muscle aches got even worse than they had been. Fortunately, we were scheduled to fly to Chiang Mai that afternoon, but the trip was supposed to start with a tuk-tuk to the bus station, followed by a three-hour or so trip on a non-A/C public bus to Udon Thani in Thailand, then a taxi transfer to the airport. B was clearly in no condition to sustain such a trip, so (leaving aside all thoughts of budgeting as our trip resources have dwindled into almost-nothingness) we hired a private car to take us. That was pretty much the only decision that made the trip bearable for B, because our driver took care of all the immigration formalities both on the Lao and Thai sides of the border while we sat in the car. Standing in the six or so (it seemed) different windows to enter and exit each country is not what you want to do while feverish and in unbearable pain.

When we arrived in Chiang Mai, we headed straight for the hospital across the street from AD's house. We were quickly checked in, saw the doctor (who said he couldn't be sure what was wrong), took a blood test, got the results in about 15 minutes (no malaria, but otherwise inconclusive), picked up drugs, and paid (total: $30). We were told to come back tomorrow for another test, and went home to put B to bed, only to discover that his upper body was now entirely covered by a delightful red rash. Pretty sure of the dengue diagnosis, we filled him up with drugs, and put him to bed. When we went back for our doctor's appointment the next day, however, the doctor decided that it was not dengue but an upper respiratory infection. How he decided that, given that he didn't even listen to B's lungs (and he hasn't been coughing or anything like that!!!) is still a mystery to us. But this time he listened to my impassioned pleas and gave us codeine. B has been on about six different painkillers and tranquillizers until this morning, but he seems to be getting better so we're reducing his dosage (after all, three of the meds are mildly addictive!).

In other words, B has been pretty much in a haze for the last few days, but he's getting better. We're staying with AD, and it's really nice not to be in a hotel for the first time in a couple of months. Her neighborhood is pretty Thai (unlike the extremely expat-heavy areas of Chiang Mai). Right across the street is the lady who makes the best som tam (spicy papaya salad) ever! AD had her leave the crab out (ew!) and add lots of chili (convincing locals you can handle it is always the hard part), I took it home in a plastic bag, and there was a feast.

Yesterday was a holiday in honor of the queen's 75th birthday. In her birthday speech, she called for the separation between religion and politics to continue to be honored here in Thailand: she does not think that Buddhism should be included in the constitution. On Monday morning, the headline in the paper was: "Activists discontinue campaign." In order to honor the queen's wishes, the activists who have been very passionately calling for Buddhism to be in the constitution have decided to end their campaign. We will see whether this affects the constitutional referendum to be held here next weekend (another Monday holiday!).

On Saturday evening, exhausted and emotionally drained, AD and I went out to get a snack after putting B to bed. (He, on huge doses of Valium and opiates, was knocked out!) Right around the corner from her place is one of the coolest restaurants I've ever seen. The entrance is across a small pond with assymetrically placed stepping stones. We sat in a swing in the outdoor area next to the white bunnies hopping around. (Sounds like I took some of his drugs too, but I didn't!) The service was absolutely amazing, and the food delicious. The restaurant is red-themed, filled with red and purple lampshades with the occasional modernist touches. It is interesting to note how much one appreciates good service once one has gotten used to it. It is almost impossible to get used to it in Europe, because outside wildly expensive restaurants, it pretty much does not exist. The whole culture of customer service that is so essential to the development of late capitalism is still primarily an American prerogative--except here (at this restaurant), I would put those waiters head to head against any I've encountered (even at, say, Babbo) in the US. Totally unobtrusive yet utterly attentive: when the waiter brought the mosquito coil to burn near us, I exclaimed approvingly to AD (not to him): two seconds later he was back with mosquito spray just in case I'd forgotten to put some on (which of course I had). Just an example. I can see both why the lifestyle here would be very delightful and very seductive in perhaps unfortunate ways.

Buddha Park (Leaning Buddha with Archer in foreground)

Buddha Park (Animals genuflecting to the Buddha)

Wat Sisaket Buddha Cloister

Wat Ho Phra Keo Dragon Detail

Sapa Trek on July 30

I finally have a chance to post! This one about Sapa on July 30. While S & B were on their 10 mile run on the nice paved read, aj. D decided to go for a trek down to the valley and back up to town and meet up with then two hours later. Rainy season, however, made all the tiny little offroads quite muddy. My first turn down the valley transformed my trek into a a delicate balancing act of sliding down the mud. I checked my watch, and realized I had already spent 30 minutes trying not to fall! Behind schedule already, I decided it was best to manouver through the narrow valley roads till I found someplace to climb back up the mountain to the city. At most, I thought I was 30 minutes behind schedule.

After about 20 minutes there was not another tourist in sight. Clearly, these roads were off the well-worn beaten path of other nice paths into villages you must pay a fee to enter. I passed several housing communities, just short of villages. Since adults and adolescents were out working in the fields, there were many, many young children about, being watched by their four year old siblings! It was quite interesting to watch; yet because there were no tourists, there was no place I could get a drink I so desperately needed! The cool waters from nearby streams held me over for a while.

By the time I got to a place where I could see Sapa town, I stumbled onto a little hut selling food and drinks. I interrupted about six men around a table having tea, and they gladly showed me a path back to town. Almost there! I thought.

On this path, there were only villages going to and from the road; no one tried to sell me anything, although I would have gladly bought a drink from them. The nicest little girl saw me struggling the mud, and found me a nice bamboo stick, and generously waited for me to made it up to the road.

I made it back, finally, but 2 and a half hours later. Poor S & B were so worried about me, poor things, sorry! But the dinner afterwards was totally amazing, and we were all in much better moods.

So AD and B think it was a big mistake to post about how we're feeling sick, but I thought we might as well include that info since we've been giving so many details anyway. I'm feeling much better today, but B's experience over the last week has been that the achiness gets better and worse, so I'm not holding my breath that it's over yet.

Yesterday we went to a couple of the important wats that are right around the corner from here. It was a bit hard at the second wat when the ibuprofen suddenly gave out, but after two restorative fruit shakes (watermelon and lime-mint) I felt better. We decided to try dinner at one of the riverside restaurants. It looked more like a bar, so we were worried about how good the food would be, but as usual, no need for concern. We ordered some steamed fish with a spicy lime sauce (excellent), sticky rice, and two salads, cucumber and papaya, very spicy. Well, the salads were spicy alright! Now, I can eat an entire habanero without crying, and even when B and I tone down the spice of food we cook for friends, it pushes the limits of many people's tolerance. But these salads had me in tears--just a little, but it was awesome. Since Russia, we've been on a hunt for truly spicy food that would challenge us a bit, and yesterday, we found it. Even more to my satisfaction was when the waiter came to clear away the table, and, amazed that we had finished both salads, he said (clearly complimenting us), "You eat spicy! Like Lao people!"

We're sick! It's hard to tell how sick--maybe just a little--but B has been having muscle aches for over a week and I've had them for two days. Worst-case scenario is dengue fever, but if so we have very mild cases--it just feels like there are little bugs burrowing into bones and muscles. We both are running slight fevers and have headaches, but nothing else--no rash, for instance, so dengue does seem fairly unlikely. We'll be in Thailand where there are good doctors on Saturday, so for now we're taking painkillers and trying to hold out. The really bad news in my mind is that Daddy says not to run until this is gone. What about my marathon? I'll just have to make it up in Norway on the beautiful trails in Marka.

Otherwise, Vientiane (Vin Chang, pronounced) is the most chilled-out capital city in the world, I'm quite certain. We're on a street right in the center, by the Mekong, and there is no traffic. Only a couple of streets seem to carry what could be described as traffic, and my guess is, they're mostly bringing in goods from Thailand which is only 25km away. Now's when we realize just what an effect the lack of infrastructure here has on the local population also: food, drinks, pretty much everything is just a bit cheaper in Vientiane than we've seen so far. Of course, people who live in Vientiane are less likely to be poor than people in very rural areas.

We had dinner last night in the absolutely friendliest restaurant I've ever visited, Fathima's. The proprietor made us feel like royalty, which was especially welcome after the horrible experience we had at the Lane Xang hotel when we arrived. We had called on Monday to reserve a room because the hotel had a fitness center, so we decided it was worth paying a bit more ($33) per night in order to have easy access to it. B had confirmed all of the details when he called, but when we arrived at the hotel--bone weary after a horrible bus ride from Vang Vieng that was supposed to take three hours but took four and a half, muscles/bones aching the whole way--they had no record whatsoever of our reservation.

At first, the manager was totally unhelpful. He must have asked us at least five times whether the person we had spoken with was male or female, when we called, and so on. He didn't seem to want to do anything to rectify the situation whatsoever. (My suspicion is that it was because we were carrying backpacks with raincovers. Backpackers are never popular in more "upscale" places, although the hotel didn't seem very upscale to us.) He kept saying that they would be happy to send us to another hotel (?!? our reservation was here), so finally I burst out crying and magically he decided to upgrade our room instead. The bellboy first took B to what was clearly the manager's own private love nest (mirrors in the ceiling etc) but as B was being shown the room, the manager changed his mind and decided to give us another room, less "upgraded", but that room was not ready yet. B decided to go look at the fitness center, the whole reason we were staying at that hotel: no treadmills. Yes, they advertise that they have a fitness center, but there are no treadmills. So, having waited at least 15 minutes for the second room to get ready, we up and left and checked into another hotel around the corner. This hotel is nothing special, but we have a TV which is nice while we writhe on our beds in discomfort. But it really took the wonderful proprietor of Fathima's to take away the sour taste that was left by the complete lack of professionalism at the Lane Xang hotel. (Now, it would have been another matter if I hadn't had to start crying for the manager to be willing to lift a finger about what was clearly laxity in his own staff's training. Imagine just not writing down a booking!)

I've forgotten to mention the amazing tropical storm that we saw in Vang Vieng. Lightning must have struck several hundred times (seriously)--it was like a strobe light lighting up the mountains. Lightning would flash maybe 6-8 times in a row, then we'd hear thunder as the rain and wind continued to intensify and intensify. It's hard to judge just how severe a storm it was for us non-tropics dwellers, but it was incredible to watch (from our private balcony, at $12/night).

We would love to see some comments appearing again! We miss feedback--trying to write every time we see an internet cafe is more fun when we think there might be comments!

Just arrived Vang Vieng, spending one night to break the journey to Vientiane. Hard to describe this place--think cheap backpacker heaven and you might start getting there. But whatever--we have a balcony, a view of the Nam Song*, and A/C.

*Edited. I said Mekong originally--my mistake. Now, in Vientiane, we're near the Mekong again.

Today we biked 30km round trip to Tiger Trails' elephant base camp in Luang Prabang. Many of their elephants have been rescued from the abusive life of logging teak from the jungle. This 3 year old elephant has mistaken S. for a tree trunk.

Stunning Luang Prabang building: at some point, this is supposed to house the Pra Bang, the golden Buddha statue that gave Luang Prabang its name.

Sinuous dragon staircase up to the wats on Phonsi mountain. These stairs are tiring to climb in the heat of the day!

Laos is filled with monks, mostly young. AD has been on a hunt for senior monks, but no luck yet. Many young Lao men cannot afford to stay in school, so they become monks for a period for the education. Unlike in, say, Thailand, monks in Laos work very hard. We saw young boys clearing brush, replacing roof tiles, sweeping streets, and so on. The wats are always hung with laundry: gorgeous saffron robes drying.

This is one of the wats that gave Luang Prabang its UNESCO World Heritage status. The beauty and complexity of the roof can hardly be reproduced in a picture.

Typical Luang Prabang street: much French colonial. It's not all wats, although they are everywhere!

Another gorgeous wat.

These are the murals of the Buddha's life on the wat right across from our hotel in Luang Prabang. The wat no longer functions directly as a wat; rather, it is a training place for monks to learn traditional Lao crafts. It is supported by NORAD, among others. These murals are used to teach children about the Buddha and his life.

The wat across the street, from a different angle. Every morning we were awoken by the monks' drumming as they walked the streets of Luang Prabang, doing the alms walk where people fill their begging bowls with food. Luang Prabang is filled with signs begging tourists to behave respectfully during this ceremony.

Long Boats on the Nam Ou (about 80km North of the Mekong)

Nam Ou River between Nong Khiow and Luang Prabang

Charming Bungalow Bed Nong Khiow, Laos

Riverside Bungalow Nong Khiow, Laos

View of Rice Paddies from a Cave Nong Khiow, Laos

Nam Ou River between Mouang Khua and Nong Khiow, Laos

Nam Ou River Bungalow Mouang Khua, Laos

Kitschy Socialist-realist War Monument at Dien Bien Phu (erected 2004 on the 50th anniversary of the battle)

Elian Hill, Dien Bien Phu (site of the most intense fighting of the battle)

Leaving Ban Saphoun (the other name of the village I was in when I last posted) was a hard decision, but Luang Prabang is also a stunning city/town. When we arrived in Laos, we ended up in a town called Mouang Khua. We had to exit the bus and get into the longboat to cross the river to get to the town, as there is no bridge for miles. The town is stunningly located on the bank of the Nam Ou river. We stayed in a guesthouse right by the river and enjoyed the silence and the fact that there was nothing to do. In the evening, the electricity came on for four hours, so everyone in town gathered around the television. While travel in Laos is incredible, if you leave Luang Prabang or Vientiane, you do need to be prepared to encounter rats, geckos, or other critters. Plus almost no roads are paved, so travel is very very slow (especially in rainy season as one negotiates parts of the almost washed-out roads). But the country is so delightful that the pace seems rather an advantage than not.

From Mouang Khua, we decided to head downriver to Nong Khiow/Ban Saphoun. We chartered a boat with some Australians and puttered along for about three hours. As we entered the village, I saw some adorable new bungalows on the left bank and knew that this is where we would stay the night. Well. You know those pictures from Balinese resorts that cost $600 per night that show beautiful bungalows with local prints, four-poster beds, your own private terrace overlooking the water, and a stylish bathroom? That's pretty much where we stayed. We and AD had a bungalow each, four-poster bed with pristine white sheets, a writing desk, subtle lighting, the works. This at the exorbitant price of $24 for a double including breakfast. It was paradise.

The resort is owned by a Dane who speaks fluent Lao and has only been open for a year, explaining why it wasn't listed in our book. But it is probably the nicest place I have ever stayed, both for simplicity and ambience. Watching the river flow by was so relaxing, the food was excellent (especially the deep-fried eggplant and the tom yum soup), no one was trying to sell me anything, and there was no honking on the (paved) road as there was hardly any traffic. B and I went out for a quick five-mile run and, for the first time on this entire journey, were not treated as freaks who should be mocked but instead welcomed with smiles and "saibadee!" (Lao for hello) which we returned with enthusiastic smiles and waves. I know this sounds too idyllic to be true, but what can I say? It was awesome. We passed villagers gathering at the waterspouts to wash (the women wearing sarongs), carrying water using the traditional method: two buckets hanging from a stick across the shoulders, classic bamboo stilt houses with space underneath for cooking, water buffaloes, chickens, and storage, a cave we had visited earlier that was used by the villagers during the American bombings and a crater right outside the cave where a bomb hit. It wasn't too hot, because as we're here in rainy season it rains every couple of hours for a little (5-30 minutes, usually) and then clears up for a bit.

I could have stayed forever, but unfortunately, the hotel had a tour group booked the next day and only one room available for more than a night. So off we went on another boat to Luang Prabang. This boat ride was a bit less spectacular than the last, although we joined the Mekong and spent the last half-hour on it, which was amazing: the river is HUGE!!! But the ride was also made somewhat less pleasant by our company. There was a Scot who kept trying to urinate off the back of the boat (but didn't have the sense to go to the very back) so he kept hitting himself and the boat instead of the river, the four identically dressed Poles who literally took pictures (they had two huge cameras and a camcorder) of every single person we passed, including children playing in loincloths who were clearly shy (treating people like animals in a zoo again)--it was an unpleasant reminder of what tourists must look like to Lao: bizarre, rude fools with lots of money. It is terrifying to think of what tourism will do to this country, although it will enrich many people as well, and that is the paradox of travel. Laotians are poor. Really, really poor. The huge bridge over the Nam Ou that links Ban Saphoun and Nong Khiow had perhaps three cars pass over it the entire time we were there, plus a couple of trucks. Maybe 10 motorbikes. Most Laotians are not going hungry, but many, many children die before the age of five of preventable diseases like malaria (endemic). We are taking anti-malarial drugs (Malarone), but at a cost of $5 per pill, the price would have to be reduced to a very small fraction before most people here could afford the drugs. Not to mention that counterfeit drugs (especially for malaria) are a huge problem in Southeast Asia. It wouldn't matter if the drugs were effective, but they often contain only a small amount of effective ingredients and thus contribute to the increasing problem of resistant malaria.

Luang Prabang is already showing the effects of tourism, both good and bad (the city exists now primarily as a tourist destination). The city is gorgeous: containing dozens of wats (Buddhist monasteries, sort of), French colonial buildings, Lao buildings, a mixture of all styles and all preserved due to the lack of money for economic development that Laos has experienced for so long. (Here we call it Lao, because the real name is the Lao People's Democratic Republic, or Lao PDR.) Prices are reasonable, although higher than in the countryside (we are still struggling to spend over $5 each for a big meal with lots of drinks). But there are children roaming the streets constantly selling trinkets. I could almost shoot any tourist who buys them. The children are adorable (and seem mostly adequately dressed and fed), but it is the idiot tourist who feels sorry for them and buys one of their trinkets who is responsible for their being out of school selling crap to tourists and having to humiliate themselves in this way. If there was no market, farming families wouldn't take their children out of school and send them around telling tourists "beautiful hair, would you like to buy?" But I have seen at least 8 children so far roaming the streets here. We were also accosted by a drugged-up beggar wearing only shorts who reached for our purses when we refused to give him money. Many drugs are readily available in Laos (it is, after all, part of the golden triangle) and although the government, responding to US pressure (not accompanied by money) has tried to eradicate opium growing, it remains an important source of income for some, including minorities in the north who have no other way to make money.

Anyway. After days on end of moving around, we are settled in Luang Prabang for a few nights. B, unfortunately, is pretty sick with food poisoning so he's staying in as AD and I take care of business. We're hoping to arrange an elephant ride and maybe some kayaking for Monday. Tomorrow we'll probably wander Luang Prabang looking at buildings (and B will take pictures--he already has some pretty spectacular ones to post). Unfortunately, it is HOT here, and I don't think there is a gym, so some pretty unpleasant running may have to take place. But in mid-week we'll be in Vientiane, which is supposed to have at least one nice gym. Here's hoping!