Loreley in May

Bridal suite at Hotel Hindenburg in Königswinter. Super nice setup!

A little living room  with TV.

The quote over the bed says, "Take your time to dream. It is the way to the stars." Just what a newlywed bride and groom will be taking the time to do.

"Fun size" Ritter Sports for after the "dreaming."

Best meal of the entire trip, this sesame crusted Rotbarsch or ocean perch dish at the Rheinhotel Loreley was phenomenal. Really fresh seared soy sauce-laced baby bok choy and veggies with a ginger lemon risotto.

View the next morning.

Taking the retro tram to the top of the Drachenfels.

The amazing view at the top inspired many a poet.

A little exploring at the top brings us unexpected sights like this cool old building.

Schloss Drachenburg having a good hair day.

You also had the option of taking donkeys to the top of the Drachenfels.

Back down from our Drachenfels adventure, we head to the river to catch a ferry to Bonn for some lunch.

Sights while waiting for the ferry.

This guy has the right idea on the ferry and we follow suit with a round of beers for the pleasant cruise ahead.

Some nautical style.

Cool retro office building in Bonn.

In a square, seeking food.

Back at Königswinter that night we feast with the sunset in the background.

Another day, another city. We're now in Rudesheim and have made our way over to St. Goarshausen to check out the Loreley.

No siren-like mermaid here but Truffles! We check out the sites at the top of the cliffs near the Loreley overlooking the Rhine.

Get this view's autograph.

Bucolic beauty is aplenty in Germany.

Castle Katz (cat in German) has a sister castle. I'll give you one guess what it's called and it's not Castle Hund (dog).

The perfect peaceful little model town for Godzilla's next attack.

The hills are alive!

At the Deutsches Eck in Koblenz with our homeboy, German Emperor William I.

Truffles, just thrilled to be here.

A symbol of Germany's longing for unity, the German Eck sits at the corner, or Eck, where the Moselle river meets the Rhine.

The Drosselgasse area of Rudesheim is a carefully curated area of Disney like shops and restaurants in picture perfect condition. Many a tourist has gladly emptied their purses here for some overpriced but tasty food and a stereotypical German experience complete with oompa oompa bands, pretzels, and beer.

An example of the carefully tended Disney-like feel in Drosselgasse.

I opted for the strange as usual. Blood sausage is delicious to me but this one was spiced with too much cloves. Couple that with the fact that a pigeon pooped on me during dinner and you have the perfect comic-relief evening.

It has become an unspoken yearly tradition to make an amiable journey on the beaten path within the Fatherland somewhere with our friends, the Von Kries's. This year found us in the perfectly manicured riverside town of Königswinter and Rüdesheim right next to the Rhine river. The weather came right out of a romanticized German storybook and we had a glorious sun filled four-day mini-holiday complete with the vibrant rolling green hills everybody in the U.S. associates with The Sound of Music--which happens to be Austria, by the way. Completely different country.
No stay near the Rhine would be complete without a trip down it in a ferry and we took ours with a day trip from Königswinter to Bonn. Sipping beer on a clear sunny day afloat atop sparkling waters makes for the perfect buzz as you head into Bonn's downtown to do some shopping and sightseeing. Our meals in the evening ended in blissful strolls down the length of the river back to our hotel where we whiled away the evening on the rooftop of the Hotel Haus Hindenburg, having some good beers and conversation. The Loreley was just as much of a fairytale scene come to life and we got our yearly dose of the pastoral German utopia.

Funny aside: Our group of six--Jürgen, Rafaela, Georg, Vincent, Mario and Me--were having the complimentary breakfast buffet in the Hotel Haus Hindenburg dining room one morning, just buttering our next little bread rolls, when Rafaela and I overheard the conversation from the table of four adults next to us. Two middle aged women and men, very obviously American, were talking about our table aloud to one another because they apparently had no idea that most people in Europe can speak English. So embarrassing for me to see. Their table along with ours and one more party of three in a little table across the room were the only people dining that morning so I wonder what made them think we wouldn't be able to hear or understand them. It was really hard to concentrate on buttering our bread rolls as the ladies in the group were nonchalantly gossiping:

"Well that's not fair, four guys and two girls?"
"I think they might be married, look, the blond one looks pregnant." (Rafaela is not pregnant.)
"Did you see when they came in?"
"Yeah, they came sometime in the afternoon yesterday."
"Are they all staying in one room, you think?"
"No, I think they have three or four separate rooms, I saw the keys missing from downstairs." (Meaning the little hotel key rack with the corresponding room numbers above them.)

It went on in the same vein for about two minutes more. We were more amused than anything and I must admit I continued speaking German so they wouldn't have a clue we could understand them because it was entertaining to see how far they would go in their conversation. Unfortunately for us, that was the most interesting bit of the entire exchange.

Oban, Scotland in July

To be honest, Scotland wasn’t on the top of my list of to-do’s for Europe. Gravitation towards warmer climes has always been reflex for me and I thought my next big trip for 2012 other than Barcelona would be some other balmy locale like Crete, Istanbul or Sidney. Instead, I found myself having one of the most magical times of my life happily tucked away with Mario’s American side of the family in a little fishing town called Oban.

Upon arrival I knew there was something special about this enclave of Scottish seaside charm as we hit up the highly recommended Seafood Hut on the pier, unofficially but better known as John’s Fish Shack since the owner and resident social butterfly,  John, is a pretty familiar face about town. The seafood at this little place became a siren call to us each day as we made our way to the middle of town from our lovely clan cottage and we couldn’t help ourselves as we ordered plate upon plate of freshly shucked oysters, steamed scallops in a garlic butter sauce--I’d swear they’re the best I’ve had in my entire life--and aromatic sweet Scottish mussels in a white wine schallot broth. The people working at the shack shook their heads in amused pity as they patiently indulged the hungry-eyed Americans in their seafood fantasies and even gave us a little anecdote about some Japanese guy they served a few days before who was actually even crazier and ordered something like fifty oysters all for himself and downed them all like shots. That made us feel a little better. The Fish Shack experience would not be complete without John, the loquacious owner, regaling us in his warm English accent about hunting, his hounds, rogue seafood-stealing seagulls (which we got to witness firsthand), all the while asking convivially, “Do you know what I mean?” Mario even got a tour one day of his smokehouse where he smokes his salmon just up the road from town. In time, we got around to knowing the equally awesome and very lovable employees of the Fish Shack who let us behind the counter for an oyster-shucking lesson and went out for a pub night with our favorite among them. Thanks again, Alanna, for making our Scottish experience most excellent!

It only goes to show how climate doesn’t necessarily reflect the personalities of the locals, because let us tell you about where we stayed! Our first day in Oban went a little like this:

1. Disembark from our three hour car ride from Glasgow to Oban
2. Discover John’s Fish Shack after asking a local for best seafood in town
3. Walkabout in Oban
4. Scenic 10 minute drive to Clan Cottages
5. Arrive, unpack and get an immediate tour of the premises by yet another John, get situated
6. Knock on the door, it’s John’s son Martin with a basket of home grown produce and fresh eggs from their hens
7. Visit by Mary, John’s wife, who tells us some really great stories about her family

The Clan Cottages of Oban are owned by John and his lovely wife, Mary, both paradigms in hospitality. During our stay they’ve excelled as considerate hosts, stopping by to let us know when to get the best fish in town, give us some freshly caught diver scallops, lend a pot for cooking French onion soup, inviting us to go fishing on Loch Nell, and gifting us with homemade Sloe gin, a delicious liqueur of local blackthorn berries. The generosity didn’t stop there. We met John by chance at a local pub and he bought us a round of drinks and we got his life story about how he started the Clan Cottages. We ended up hanging out with John every now and then for a drink at the cottage or a bit of conversation which really just added to a growing realization that people in Scotland are all naturally neighborly.

About 200 oysters, a hike through the mystical highlands, 10 loch swims, 20 crispy fresh haddock fish and chip meals, a whiskey distillery tour, 10 evening Settlers of Catan games, a breathtaking tour with a stop on the isle of Seil, a few pub crawls with countless pints of beer,  daily tune-ins to the London Olympics and an Oban 10k later it was already time to leave our newfound friends. After our two weeks getting a taste of its culture, you can be sure that many more Scottish cities, not to mention a highly anticipated future trip back to Oban, have now become new additions to my to-do list.

The Meridan Bar and Restaurant in the Birmingham airport was a pleasant surprise with its atypical food offerings.

Spinach lentil burger was the best thing we ordered. Pair that with fries, a Speckled Hen and fish fritters and it's a winning preflight meal.

The Black Sheep in Glasgow offers fresh local fare with a cozy atmosphere.

Watermelon, blueberry and rucola salad.

Pork belly was biting off a little more than I could chew, literally. Wish I had ordered the haggis instead.

Homemade strawberry shortcake was out of this world.

English breakfast at the Acorn Hotel in Glasgow made by the girl at the check-in counter. The fried toast was my fave.

Crooked steps at the Acorn Hotel made me veer into the wall on the left with my heavy suitcase while walking up. :)

Oban, seafood capital of Scotland.

The Seafood Hut's, aka John's Fish Shack, menu.

The patient and cheerful staff listen to Beyonce while shucking oysters.

Best scallops I've ever tasted. That orange stuff is the roe--very tasty to me--and left on in Europe but typically discarded in the US.

Sweet prawns in the traditional Fish Shack butter and garlic sauce are also the best I've ever had.

The Fish Shack crab sandwich has plenty of crab roe for a creamy rich consistency. The local seagulls knew how good they were and almost made off with a bag of these babies that we had bought one day but John managed to scare them off.

Oyster slurping faces.

Oban from the Seafood Hut's side of the harbor.

Fresh greens and herbs brought by Martin.

Excitement being expressed. Martin: "I'll leave you to it."

Mario and my room was the bridal suite and one of three rooms in the cottage.

The modern well equipped kitchen with generous appliances.

Our woolly talkative neighbors.

Loch Nell has a new fan.

John and Mary's amazing dogs. Maggie the shepherd dog likes to follow people, sometimes for miles, on runs.

Marylouise's Scottish lamb roast was the best lamb I've had in ages.

Lots of quiet crisp afternoons were spent reading and exploring our surroundings.

View out our front door. We had the MacKinnon cottage which slept 6.

Our days were peppered with bleats from the sheep who get to wander all over the hills here. We couldn't help but break out laughing sometimes because of how complainy the bleating sometimes sounded.

Idyllic setting makes for the perfect loch swim.

No loch monsters here except for the white bellied one!

Another gorgeous afternoon.

Dining al fresco was a must!

John enjoying another picture perfect cottage evening with us.

Hike up to Cow Hill Summit.

Highland wanderers.

Ben Nevis shrouded in fog, heather in the foreground.

Local fish broiled with herbs and garlic and a pear and blue cheese spinach salad.

Seared scallops with an orange butter citrus glaze atop arugula.

Local caught trout that Kris made into a delicious breakfast with potatoes, garlic, herbs and eggs.

Little hike up to the Celtic grave right near the clan cottages.

Atop the grave site, a snake-like ridge that overlooks Loch Nell on the other side of the cottages.

Dan shows us how business is taken care of at the Fish Shack.

Mario gives it a go.

On the way up to McCaig's Tower.

The famous Highland cow in all its glory.

Who can blame them for wanting to hang around here.

Bringing the center part for hairstyling back into style.

Road block! We came up to him with the car with maybe a foot left between us and it still wouldn't move.

Dunollie Castle

Inside Dunollie

Something out of Lord of the Rings.

After our Oban 10k race, we were ready for a pint of something refreshing!

The midgets got to clown-car it in the trunk. We're off to the pubs!

Oh the excitement of the Olympics!!

Go, Phelps, go!

Go team USA!

On the ferry to the Isle of Mull.

The Oban bus tour was soooo worth it! Included is a trip to Seil, a small island of slate near Oban, and you get views like these along the way.

The famous slate that built Seil.

Last trip to the fish shack. We'll miss these two--meaning the lobsters! j/k Dan and Alanna!

The crazy Americans and their friends who fed them well.

Last round of deliciousness and bit of hanging out at the Seafood Hut, what we did twelve times during our two weeks in Oban. It was a goal of mine to have oysters almost every day here and we missed only two days.

Mario's tour of John's fish smoking facilities.

John himself with that glint of mischief in his eye.