The wide angle of sports

Ok, so I understand that this post does not fit with the flow of the blog . . . but, hey, it's my blog.

I played in one rugby match last Spring. It was a cold and rainy down in Scenic Tacoma. As it was the first game back from breaking my leg, my primary goal was to complete the 80 minutes unhurt. Having said that in my minds eye, I clearly remember laying one solid hit on this enormous Islander guy who was playing prop.

So . . . when I received an email yesterday with pictures of the game, I was obviously excited to see what they had . . . Imagine my disapointement. It looks like the guy tripped over my neck.

Some things are best left un-photographed.

Getting Residency in Luxembourg

Government offices all over the world are fun. Here is the simple process for getting a Residency permit in Luxembourg.

1) Open a bank account, so you can . . .
2) pay a down-payment, so you can . . .
3) sign a lease for an apartment, so you can . . .
4) prove that you live in Luxembourg, so you can . . .
5) obtain a residency card, so you can . . .
6) open a bank account.

Any questions?

Welcome Luxembourg

Finally, we made it to Luxembourg! We arrived on July 19 and as we stepped into the airport we realised that 1) there were loads LOADS of banks and (all the ads were bank ads) 2) that it was tiny (the baggage collection area is the size of our living room) !-)

We have been here 10 days and there are so many things that are great about this city:
1) no traffic, the most you can get is a 3-car line at 5:30 in the afternoon.

2) 1 bar per nationality: 1 English bar, 1 American Bar, 1 Scottish Bar, 1 Irish bar, ... all in the Grund (the lower and perhaps oldest part of the city)

3) The map of the city fits comfortably in an A4 ... (the European equivalent to an 8.5 X 11 piece of paper)

4) If you are in the city centre, you'll probably bump into the same person several times during the space of 1 hour. (ahh and he/she probably works at JP Morgan)

5) Don't ever, ever try to take a 'sickie', and if you do, just think why? ... you cannot go out. Someone will see you (free paranoia for those lazy ones)

Luxembourg is a Duchessy, and the the Grand Ducal Palace is where the Grand Ducal family lives. The palace is right in the middle of the Old Town. It is great to be able to walk almost as close to the door and not be stopped by police or intimidated by the guards. The calm and simplicity of life here is great.



On Saturday, the plaza Guillaume is filled with antique traders and florists. And we can get lunch outside if the weather is good. oh yes! the weather, I guess is great for flowers, but not for people living of suitcases ... temperatures can go from 16 - 32 in the same week.



So, that's it for now... :-)

French is hard

Having recently arrived in Luxembourg, we have now transitioned from being basically lost in German to being lost in French. I want everyone to know that we made the transition seemlessly.

I present a few examples of our early success:

Example 1 - In our first dinner in town, Ale ordered horse. I am disappointed to report that the waiter made her aware of her mistake and she quickly changed her order. Too bad, I understand it tastes like chicken.

Example 2 - We joined a gym on day 2 in town. As with joining a gym in the US, we were asked on the membership form where we had heard about the gym. As soon as Ale handed the form to the woman who was to enter our info, the woman burst into laughter. When I asked what was so funny, the guy behind the counter (who was now in histerics) made a strange motion and said that Ale had written something that, in French, sounds a lot like "the warm up." I stared at him not understanding. In my best French, I said "huh?" He explained further (with more odd gesturing) "the before period, the warm up, the entrance." At this point, Ale and I concluded they were nuts, laughed politely and left.

About 20 minutes later it came to me . . . he had meant "foreplay." She had learned about the gym during foreplay.

So you are probably wondering, why there are no examples of my French mistakes. After all, I have inadvertent language-driven comedy in my genes (sorry dad). Truth be told, I mostly avoid it. I find that speaking English and/or asking Ale to order for me works just fine. As with all things, this is going to come to an end. Ale has picked up on my little scheme and has threatened to only order me spinach and anchovy salad until I start speaking French for myself.

So despite my avoidance, I have had one encounter so far in Lux. Sitting at a cafe last weekend, I wanted a red wine. After Ale ordered her Campari and refused to help me, I said "Von Roosh, si vu play."

Now, the waiter looked at me with such utter distain that I was almost shocked speechless. He shook his head signifying lack of comprehension. I tried again. Again he shook his head. At this point, I actually started to get a little annoyed because I was CONVINCED he understood me and was just fucking with me. Luxembourgish waiters don't work for tips so this was how he got joy out of work. I tried again, nothing . . . at this point, Ale stepped in and said . . . I swear to god . . . "Von Roosh, si vu play."

"Wee madam" and he was off. It took me 10 minutes to get my blood pressure under 300 over 200. (combination of his attittude and making me wait for a drink:)

Oh . . . but when I asked for the check he understood me perfectly. (Ladision si vu play)

The Blur de France

The tour de France came to Germany this year and we took the opportunity to go watch a stage. Ale checked the schedule and found that it started at 10am. We were about 30km from the start, so we estimated a 10:40ish arrival of the riders.



After getting up at the ass-crack of dawn and walking 6km up to the top of a category 3 climb, we set up base camp about 9:45 and waited for the riders. And we had a beer. . . . ah beer before 10am . . . glorious.






Finally about 10:45, we heard a roar coming up the mountain! Was it the riders? Oh no, it was the parade of sponsors. For the next 45 minutes every conceivable product was thrown from oddly shaped and brighlty painted trinkets-and-trash mobiles that whipped by often upwards of 50km per hour.

The utter lack of concern was truly impressive.

They threw hats, candies, pens . . . and beer! Can you imagine a parade with someone handing out beer to the all-ages crowd. Needless to say, I was impressed. In all honestly, all we got was a stupid Skoda hat and a can of beer. I really wanted the King of the Mountain hat but it wizzed by us and hit the old guy next to us. After he got hit by the hat, I didn't really feel like I could grab it before he did.

Several hours and countless "trips to the woods" later, the riders finally appeared. Now, I have to stress that we were in the front row on a bend so the riders went by within meters of us. I am talking all the big guns; Vino, Ulle, Floyd . . . and of course Lance.

But to be honest, I didn't see any of them. I mean, I am sure that they passed through my field of vision but I can't claim to have actually focused on any of them. Luckily, due to the magic of digital cameras and random picture snapping, I do have proof that they were there.

Please notice Jan Ullrich in the foreground and a little yellow jersey hidden in the back.

When Ale gets bored

An idle Ale is a scary sight. She takes pictures of her shoes.

I have titled this photo "Contemplation." Others might call it "Ordinary Brown Chuck Taylors on a hill in Southern Germany." Its sort of up to you.

I want to go on record that this was an actual old-school photo that required film and everything . . . sheesh . . . and we wonder why we can't afford nice things.

Our (un)usual weekends

During our short stay in beautiful Munich I drank more beer than I though I ever would. We used to go to a Beer Garden at least twice a week. Big tables, like the picnic ones with a long bench on each side. It is a Bavarian custom to go there with the family, listen to Bavarian music played by guys wearing leatherhosen at a roasting 85 degrees!

We did not make it to the Hofbrauhaus as often as we thought we would, but the Chinese Pagoda and the beer garden by the lake were two of our most popular stops. Look right, the photo cheats but the usual beer size = 1Lt! After that, any beer glass anywhere else looks like a miniature tea cup.

After a few of those Liters, is no suprise that we can no longer try to walk back home so instead we take the 'taxi-bike' (driven by a super fit guy who thinks - correctly - that we are just two tourists who had too much beer under the sun. ... Easy with the ride (please) .... the bumps are making us dizzy ! (but look, we keep a smile for the camera ...!)



.... If on our way back home, Chuck spots the Isar river, then that's it, we have to stop because he HAS to jump in! ... Now, although is summer, the temperature of the river is very very cold (I don't think he realises that until he gets in the water). He loves it .... It is funny, but you do not need a bathing suit there, just underwear or simply go naked. No one looks .... mmm ... not sure.


After the river, no taxi-bike will let us in . Now we are not only a pair of tourists who had too much beer under the sun, but we are also WET ... so Chuck & I have to 'walk' home.

(I thought it would be better not to show our faces, so here are our shadows - and look who is supporting whom?)