Greece has good things too.

So there's been a lot of questions surrounding Greece recently.  Will they/won't they default on their loans?  Is the drachma coming back?  And who exactly came up with that word "Grexit"?  It's all been pretty negative (not unexpected given the situation), and Greece doesn't exactly seem like the best place to be right now (which is quite unfortunate for them given that it's high summer holiday time right about now).  But even if Greece loses the Euro, I don't think it will be losing its gorgeous island sunsets, its beyond blue Mediterranean waters, or its title as the birthplace of democracy any time soon.  So it wasn't too hard to decide to meet up with Justine and Ryan in Greece (friends of ours from CO who now live in Australia) while they were doing some traveling in Europe back in May.

   

We headed to Athens a few days early with the intention of checking out one of the nearby islands for a few days, but a May 1st ferry strike changed our plans.  We ended up along the coast outside of Athens, and we never would have gotten eaten by fish or discovered the best Waffle House ever if not for the change of plans.  Let me explain.  The beach town of Vouliagmeni is about an hour bus ride outside of the city (and I got closer than I wanted to be with what seemed like half of Athens on that bus ride).  Besides its gorgeous beach, it's home to Lake Vouliagmeni, a natural mineral lake fed by underground hot springs.  And Lake Vouliagmeni is home to those little black fish that eat the dead skin off your feet.  I can't say that I enjoyed the fish experience (I guess I'm too ticklish), but David was a different story (it's his feet in the photo).  Vouliagmeni is also home to the best Waffle House ever.  I'm not sure anyone's told them that the name Waffle House has a bit of a sketchy reputation in the USA, but the line of people out the door at this place made me look past the name.  I was rewarded with freshly made waffles topped with homemade ice cream, and we went there 3 times in 2 days.

Back in Athens, Justine and Ryan met up with us for a day exploring the ancient city.  And just in case you start to forget how old this city is, all you have to do is look up and see the Acropolis presiding over everything or turn the corner and find another archaeological site.  The first part of the day was a walking tour of central Athens (accompanied by several of the city's homeless dogs and led by a funny guy who would say things like "The Parthenon was built in...shall we say...450 BC").  Then, we popped into the Acropolis Museum for air conditioning and frappes (and maybe a brief nap during the introductory movie about the Acropolis...shhhh) before climbing up the hill to check out it out for ourselves.  I still don't think I can fully wrap my mind around just how long those pillars have been standing there.

  

Changing of the guards at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier

Temple of Olympian Zeus

Hadrian's Library

Climbing 1000+ years old steps

History!

Acropolis Hill

With the three day weekend over on Monday, David headed back to Aalborg to resume satellite building duties while I tagged along with Justine and Ryan to the island of Milos.  Milos is basically the opposite of Santorini or Mykonos in terms of party reputation, but it has all the pretty white buildings, delicious Greek food, and fantastic swimming and kayaking that we could ask for (and for much cheaper).  We arrived at the tiniest airport imaginable at 7am.  Luckily, Petrinela's Guesthouse was so wonderful and let us into our rooms that early.  I took a nap while Justine and Ryan climbed a nearby mountain (morning people...ugh) before spending the day swimming, hiking around the island, and fending off the sickly-looking cats that seemed to appear anytime we were eating something (what's with this country and its stray animals).

         

                                                                                     

Slathering on the SPF 50 like crazy, the second day on Milos was a kayak tour to some cliffs, caves, and coves only accessible from the sea.  Now, sometimes when you see pictures of the Mediterranean, you think (or at least I do) that photo has got to have some Photoshop going on; water really isn't all those colors.  But I was wrong, folks, I was wrong.

Back on the mainland, I said goodbye to Justine and Ryan as they took off for further adventures, and I spent the few hours before my flight checking out the Monastiraki Flea Market in Athens.  I found a place that makes custom sandals for your feet and learned from the shopkeeper about the poet who revived the sandalmaking business in Athens.  Later on, hoping to get in one more gyro before heading back, I stopped by a restaurant planning to just grab one to go.  But I must have looked sweaty or something because the man running the restaurant insisted (in Greek) that I sit down and have some water and rest a while.  These encounters were fairly representative of the people I met throughout our trip...friendly, hospitable, ready to help (and to chat).  And that's what I remember about Greece...the spectacular beauty, the delicious food, and the friendly people (most of whom readily admit that their government is not doing so hot these days).  Yes, we did have some requests to pay in cash rather than credit card, and we heard a few protest rallies going on, but honestly, the Greece in the headlines was not the Greece that I saw.  The people we met were proud of their country, and based on our experience, they have every reason to be.

Focaccia is my new favorite food.

Do you like...
  hiking  ✔
  pasta  ✔
  wine  ✔
  the sea  ✔
  gelato  ✔
  charming villages  ✔
  friendly people  ✔
?

Then, search no further for your next vacation spot...Cinque Terre is your heaven.  David and I took advantage of the extra, extra long weekend over Easter in Denmark and spent a few days saying "Scusi, non parlo italiano" and stuffing ourselves with focaccia as we hiked through Cinque Terre National Park.

The name means "Five Lands" and comes from the five small villages sitting along the coast of the Mediterranean.  The villages are surrounded by the national park, and there's no cars allowed through the small streets (like they would fit, anyway).

Stepping off the bus into Portovenere

We started at the southern end of the Cinque Terre region

Hiking around Isola Palmaria just off the
coast of Portovenere

in Portovenere with its tall colorful houses built close together to help fend off pirate attacks back when...well...back whenever pirates still attacked these villages.  The village isn't technically one of the "official" five lands, but it oozed plenty of charm (and Italian food) nonetheless.  We met Giuseppe and Donatella who made us feel so welcome at their restaurant/guesthouse despite them not speaking much English and our lousy attempts at speaking a (very) limited vocabulary of Italian.  We knew Giuseppe was a good chef when even I could say that I liked the seafood he cooked (in all honesty, I liked some but not really all of the seafood dishes, but I tried, ok?).



From Portovenere, the plan was to walked northwest along the coast and end up in Riomaggiore (the southernmost of the official Cinque Terre villages) for the night.  Well, we did end up in Riomaggiore for the night, but it was after about two hours hiking through a light drizzle, about 30 minutes hiking through some soaking rain, attempting to fuel ourselves with focaccia in Campiglia (the halfway point) but ultimately deciding to wimp out and take the bus/train the rest of the way, making puddles in the fancy restaurant that also was the only place in Campiglia to buy bus tickets, buying french fries from the McDonalds (I know, I know, don't judge) at the train station in an effort to get some warmth back in our bodies, and ultimately ending up in Riomaggiore as the clouds cleared and the sun returned (of course).

Looking back towards Portovenere and Isola Palmaria from
the trail...it's about to get wet

Starting the hike from Portovenere past the old
castle wall and towers

Waiting for the bus and trying to warm up

We found the trail into Riomaggiore that we
would have taken if we hadn't wimped out

Fortunately for us, the weather redeemed itself the next day as we made our way from Riomaggiore through Manorola, Corniglia, and Vernazza and ended up in Monterosso al Mare.  Cinque Terre knows how to do hiking: start in one village...hike a couple hours to the next village and eat some focaccia...hike to the next village and eat some gelato...keep hiking to the next village and break for some wine overlooking the water...then end your hike in the last village with a dinner of pesto and homemade limoncello.  As much as I enjoy PB&J while hiking, I think this way is my new favorite.  The trails wound through the villages and the vineyards that overlooked them, and I definitely got in my stairmaster workout for like...the entire year but all while enjoying breathtaking coastal scenery instead of looking at other sweaty people in the gym.

There was a lot of this...

...and then a lot of this

Most times, we go for a hike to get away from civilization, but here I think the villages only added to the loveliness of the place.  The tall, colorful houses, the narrow streets, the sense that the villages are about to tumble down into the water.  They served as very conveniently-spaced pitstops to fuel up on exactly the carb-loaded food I like.  Not to mention the generous, hospitable people who welcomed us into their hotels and guesthouses (and are lucky enough to live in this beautiful place).  Sign me up for that any day.

Finishing the last stretch before Monterosso

The only thing we managed to bring back to less-than-tropical Denmark from this lovely corner of the Mediterranean was a fresh lemon snagged from one of the ubiquitous fruit trees.  Well, the lemon and legs that ached for three days every time I tried to walk up or down stairs.

#5 of 5...The End!

One year in.

So before we close out March and head full on into spring, we have a big anniversary to celebrate here.  The Gerhardts officially made it through one whole year on the Jutland peninsula back on March 11.

These pictures aren't really related to the blog post, but a post
with no pictures is kinda boring.

I don't know what you're thinking, but what I'm thinking is "What the heck?  It's been a whole year already?"  I'm pretty sure this has been the fastest year of my life.  New places, new people, new language, new foods, new job, new apartment...I guess I shouldn't be too surprised that it all seemed to go by so fast.  But it's hard for me to believe that it's been a year since we moved because I still feel kinda new here.  I think part of it's because I'm still not really comfortable with the language.  But a bigger part is probably because, no matter how long I've been here, I'm living in a culture that is not the culture/society that I'm most familiar with.  There will always be things that just seem weird to people who did not grow up Danish.

I'm currently reading a book called "How to Be Danish", but since I don't plan on changing my name to Mette or dying my hair blond (and the book is really more of observations on Danish culture than an instruction manual), I'll just have to be glad that I can now make it through a grocery store trip without feeling illiterate and I can at least tolerate the salty black licorice.

We caught the train down to Rold Skov/Rebild Bakker
which is a huge forest south of Aalborg.

And there are some things that I really like here.  Off the top of my head (meaning this is not a complete list but just what came to mind right now)...
The bike infrastructure is great, and traveling by train is actually a viable option (unlike in most parts of the US).  Paid vacation days, paid sick days, maternity leave, flex-time, and working from home seem to come standard with most jobs and aren't things that you have to negotiate in your employment contract.  The wonderful hours of glorious sunlight in the summer almost make me forget about my winter time complaints.  And the pastries...oh the pastries...how did I live without hindbærsnitter for 28 years of my life?  That thing Americans call a Danish is a complete insult to deliciousness that I have enjoyed over the past year.  And the beaches...definitely a nice surprise.

But for all the chocoladeboller that have blessed my stomach in the past 12 months, I'd be lying if I said that I didn't miss some things from the USA.  Like Mexican food.  And mountains.  The American kind of football.  Turning lights on by flipping them up instead of down.  120V kitchen appliances.  And being around people who have known me for longer than a year.

It's not the Rocky Mountains, but you definitely can't complain.

That last one is hard.  As someone who's pretty extroverted (surprise!), I enjoy meeting new people and hearing their stories.  And when you're a foreigner in a country, you tend to meet a lot of other foreigners in that country.  So I've been able to meet people from all over the world here and learn how similar and different their stories are from mine, and I've definitely learned a lot.  (Meeting new people here has also made realize that the "Boulder bubble" is definitely a real thing.  Boulder friends, did you know that not everyone likes camping, craft beers, and kombucha???  :D)

But, while meeting new people is exciting for me, sometimes I don't want the excitement but rather the comfort of being around people who already know my story.  People who know what I mean when I say "the rollerblading incident" or "that time I broke my elbow".  People who don't need me to explain why I doubted that I would ever finish grad school because they know, they were right there with me.  (And right now, I'm remembering just how thankful I am for David in my life.)  Of course, it just takes time to tell those stories to new people.  As most people who have moved to a new place as an adult can tell you, making friends is a lot harder when you're the only one who's new and you don't have tons of people (i.e. college classmates or whatever) who are also new and in the same situation as you and all wanting to make new friends at the same time as you want to make new friends.  And that realization makes me hugely grateful for the people we've met here who have been willing to share their already established lives with us.  It really makes me think about how I welcome new people that I meet and if I'm willing to show that same hospitality and love.

So there's some thoughts on this adventure so far.  I'll let you know how the next year goes.

We made it.

Walking from my office to the bus stop...it's actually
light out and the sky is blue not grey!

To March, that is.  Whew.  We made it to March, a month where sunlight is a thing that actually exists.

When we moved to Denmark last March (more on that big anniversary later), we arrived on this beautiful spring day with the sun shining and most of the city out riding bikes.  And it pretty much just improved from there.  The days got longer, the weather got warmer, and we settled into to life here.  But I did think it was a little odd that, often, one of the first things people here would ask me when they learned that I had just moved to Denmark was "can you handle the weather?"

Can I handle the weather?  There didn't seem to be too much to handle.  Moderate temperatures and no snow until January with the bonus of the best summer weather that Denmark has had in past 10 years.  Didn't seem too hard to me.  Sure, it rained a lot, but nothing crazy.  "Just wait until the winter" they'd say.  Ok, but it's not like cold and snow are foreign concepts to me.

As it turns out, questioning my ability to handle colder temperatures and a few snowy days was probably the wrong thing to be asking.  In that respect, the winters I experienced in Pittsburgh and Boulder were definitely worse than Denmark.  No, the worst part of Danish winter, by far, was the utter lack of sunlight for practically 4 months.  (Now, I'm pausing here for a sec to ask myself "Am I exaggerating here?  Were there really no sunny days from November until March?"  And when I think about it, I think I can remember a few.  But a few sunny days over a third of the entire year is not that much.  So despite the tiny bit of exaggeration, I stand by my statement.)  It was SO dark!  At it's worst, winter days had barely 7 hours of "light", if you can even call what made it through those pervasive, grey clouds light.

Aalborg's Christmas Market

One of my co-workers, a Dane, described it to me like this... In November, the short days start to get to you, but then Christmas cheer comes to get you through December which doesn't seem so bad until the party's over in January and you never want to get out of bed and February is the longest month of your life.  But, he said, if you make it to March, then you have hope.  I remarked to him that most of the world is not like this.  You can live places where you naturally get vitamin D...year-round!

But this is not any of those places.  This is Denmark.  And since we're living here not there, we've picked up on a few things to get us through the season.

For example, Christmas is really big here.  Without Thanksgiving to hold them off, Christmas festivities started in November, coinciding with the begin of the dark days.  Streets were decorated, a giant tree from Norway appeared in the center of town, little stands popped up selling gløgg and carmelized almonds, and there was some kind of Christmas party every weekend.  So for a while, you actually enjoy the darkness because it makes the Christmas lights and candles look even prettier.

It's not dark...it's cozy.

Which brings me to a key item to surviving the winter...candles.  Candles everywhere.  I've never seen a bigger candle selection in my life.  But they really work.  When you light some candles, your house is no longer a sad, dark place, it turns into a cozy place where you want to curl up with a blanket and a mug of something warm and good.

And with that, you're well on your way to a very hyggeligt evening.  Throw in some friends and some good conversations and make it last as long as possible...who needs to go outside anyway?  The Danish (/Scandinavian) concept of hygge proudly has no direct English translation but roughly means "cozy togetherness".  It's believed to be a factor in how places with consistently terrible winters still manage to be the "happiest places in the world" (according to the people who rank those kinds of things) and is a big enough deal that the Danish tourism website even has suggestions for how to experience it on your next trip to Denmark.

And we'll definitely be spending as much time in the sunshine as possible now that it's starting to show itself again.  David noticed during the summer that everyone seemed to be outside all the time.  Not really doing anything special outside, just sitting in the park reading a book or hanging out with friends.  He thought that people must be outside so much in the summer in order to make up for lost time in the winter.  I didn't want to believe him, but now, I know.  He was totally right.