24-27 December 2011 - Christmas in the Canaries

("Canary" by Liz Phair or, if you prefer, "Canary in a Coal Mine" by the Police, or perhaps the Christmas song, "Christmas Island" by one of the many artists singing it)

I decided to stay in Europe this year for the holidays. This was driven by two factors. First, it was my last opportunity to spend the holidays here while living here (yes, cry me a river, but the blog - at least with this type of semi-focused content - will be ending). Second, unlike the US where when holidays fall on a weekend you usually get a day off on the Friday before or the Monday after, in Germany there are no make-ups (though admittedly the firm - after I had already made my decision to stay - granted us an additional day between Christmas and New Year's). So there wasn't much actual time off. So I decided to stay here. Somewhere.

My original idea was that I would spend some time taking the train from one great Christmas market to another. Good in theory, but those markets actually close a couple days before Christmas itself when I would still be working, so not really workable other than on weekend trips (one of which I would spend in Orlando as noted in the previous posting). Hmmm....

So I did what any frequent traveler would do - I consulted my favorite hotel and airline (you should know by now that would be Starwood properties and Lufthansa). On the SPG site, they have a feature where you select a region or country of interest and then the types of activities in which you are interested and it comes up with some recommendations. So I selected Europe as the destination and beach, golf and spa as the activities. One of the suggestions it returned was the Fuerteventura Beach, Golf and Spa Resort and I had to wonder if it was renamed just based on my query result! Fuertaventura is one of the Spanish islands, so I figured that would be a reasonable vacation distance for a few days and Lufthansa flew there direct from Frankfurt. Perfect!

Of course it wasn't quite so easy. (And if it were, this blog would not have been necessary!) As a typical geography-challenged American, when I saw that the island was one of the Canary Islands of Spain, I assumed it was just off the coast of Spain, not off the coast of AFRICA!! Hmmm.... That explained the long flight length. Which flight was not on Lufthansa, but a partnership with Condor, which is the flight arm of Thomas Cook vacations (don't worry - Miles & Mores miles were still available!)

I flew out on Christmas Eve Day. The flight was generally uneventful, though I was somewhat surprised to see a rather scrawny-looking Santa Claus wandering around the check-in area at Condor. The seat selection process, if you want to call it that, is a bit interesting. Despite it being a Lufthansa codeshare, I had looked at Condor's website in advance to determine whether I would be charged extra for my golf clubs. The good news was that due to my Lufthansa/Miles & More status, there would be no additional charge. BUT, I had to register my bag 48 hours in advance, so it was a good thing I had checked.

I noted at the time that online check-in was also available, which I thought might be helpful in assuring I didn't get stuck in a middle seat as, since it was a codeshare, Lufthansa.com hadn't been able to allow me to select a seat. The reason became apparent when, 24 hours before the flight, I used said online check-in. When you check in, you are asked whether you'd like to select your own seat (for which privilege you pay EUR 10) or pay nothing and select the Seat Joker (not kidding - that was the name) option. I read this as, "If you don't want to be in a middle seat for 3.5 hours, you'll need to pay EUR 10." Of course, I wondered what would happen if you paid the EUR 10 for a seat, only to discover that only middle seats were available. That would really stink.

It was more or less all economy class with two rows in the front that were some kind of premium only in that the middle seat was left empty (kind of like Lufthansa's new continental Europe cabins) but without that pleated separation curtain between those rows and the rest of us commoners. There was a hot meal for all of us (no selection - you will just enjoy what is given to you or not eat) and several beverage services, which is much more than you would get on any US carrier that I know of on a 3.5 hour flight in economy.

The arrival was nothing terribly exciting, other than the distraction of the beautiful sea outside the huge plate glass window walls. I don't think I have ever had such a nice view from baggage claim. There were a few more scrawny Santas (maybe just because there aren't as many portly European men than there may be in the US?) in the airport including some passengers, but otherwise just a bunch of other people trying to get out of the airport and enjoy the sea that we'd been seeing through the windows.

When my taxi pulled up to my hotel I had to do a double-take. In addition to the flags of Spain and the European Union and a new one that I later learned was the flag of the Canary Islands, also flying high was a certain black, red and yellow flag. And I don't mean Belgium. Ummm.....

Now, I had heard a joke that Mallorca was the 13th Bundesland/state of Germany, but I hadn't thought the joke extended to all islands of Spain. But perhaps it does or should, because I was quite astonished to learn that staff at the front desk not only spoke very good English, but most also spoke some German and a few were much more fluent than me (which admittedly isn't saying a lot, but still....). I thought flying the flag was a bit much, though apparently they must fly them based on the mix of people staying there because I noticed when I left a few days later that they were also flying the Union Jack and there were indeed quite a few Brits around. But with a welcome glass of champagne for guests like me, they can fly whatever flags they want....

I had arrived around noon and the weather was even then not hot. It was probably in the high 70s with a really nice breeze and, from my balcony that was in the shade, actually a bit chilly. The weather remained like this most of the stay - warm enough for the sun worshippers and just perfect for the golfers!

There were two particularly interesting features of the hotel that caught my attention. First, when I was roaming around the property, towards one of the back corners behind the tennis and basketball courts was a walkway besides which was a kind of tent/shelter roughly the shape of an aircraft hangar, but open at the ends. It was covered by a tarp that indicated it was a feeding station for cats and to please leave food for them. Ummm.... Odd, as usually most places would say to not feed the strays. It remains unclear to me whether there is a large rodent problem or something that cats help control or something else. But I found it interesting.

The second interesting feature was the 18 hole miniature golf course that was visible from my balcony. While I think the idea was that children would partake in this activity and pay for the use of a putter and a ball in the children's area, you can imagine how my mind started to work when I saw that there were light poles around the area. There were no barriers to entering the course, so I thought it could be quite relaxing in the evening to take my real putter and some balls down there in the evening and practice my skills. Alas, they didn't actually turn the lights on in the evening. Drat! Soooo disappointed.

My time there basically consisted of enjoying the great breakfast buffet (complete with champagne and some really interesting creations that look like black sausages but that had a mixture of rice, beans and meat in them - I pretended there was no meat because I was so fascinated - so kind of like a burrito in a sausage casing), hopping on the free bus around the area, playing a round of golf, and then reading and relaxing in the late afternoon/evening. Unfortunately, while the hotel has a very nice spa, it wasn't open until 10 AM, which is frustrating if you want to get a workout in before your early morning tee time.

Golf (and events surrounding it) was clearly the highlight of my vacation and one of my reasons for choosing the area, as previously mentioned. I had emailed ahead to get tee times, which was an interesting experience and should have been a heads up on the multilingual capabilities on the island. I emailed the hotel (in English but from my German account) asking whether the concierge could arrange tee times. They responded in German with the email address to which I should address tee time requests. So I emailed that address (also in English), requesting tee times for Sunday and Monday. They responded in German, but with what appeared to be a cut-and-paste from their reservation system, which was in Spanish. Made me smile.

So I showed up for my 8:50 tee time on Christmas morning. At the hotel, I had run into a Brit who said his tee time was at 8:54 and saw him again when I arrived at the course. However, there was no starter in sight. There were two women (also from the UK) near the tee and I started talking with them. They were scheduled to tee off at 8:58. Still no sign of a starter and the group in front of me had cleared the hole, so I just started playing. A few minutes later, a guy on a golf cart caught up with me with a (very faint) hint of authority and asked if I was assigned to play with anyone. I said that the pro shop hadn't mentioned anything to that effect when I had checked in. He then asked if I would consider golfing with the group in front of me. I said that since I had gotten to know the players at 8:54 and 8:58 I would prefer to golf with them. He drove away to go check with them. As I was finishing the hole (a very poor start to the day, I might add), he came by again and said that the two ladies would be joining me and I should just wait for them at the second tee. Fun!

And what a truly fun time it was. The ladies (to protect the names of the innocent, I will call them Lovely and Delightful, though the names would apply equally to either of them) had recently turned their attention to learning golf and our skills were all about on the same level, so it was perfect. The ladies had the good fortune to be spending an entire week there, not only focusing on their golf skills but also to celebrate Lovely's birthday. We had such a fun time, though, laughing at each other, our golf skills (or, rather, lack thereof at times), the various ducks and birds on the path, other players. Just a lot of fun. We decided to grab a beverage (or two) and some lunch at the clubhouse and the laughter continued, including a guy asking where we were from as we were obviously old friends. Well, I guess slogging through 18 holes does make one feel older. Had such a great time we coordinated our tee times for the next day as well. More fun and laughter and we continue to keep in touch. By far the highlight of my trip.

I should also note that during the meals and beverages, there was a little black cat wandering around our feet. He was quite friendly, but not begging for food and appeared to be well fed. I had to wonder whether his state of health was influenced by the little cat feeding shelter like the one at the Sheraton. All in all, though, the perfect host for a perfect couple of days.

17 December 2011 - Not so magical Orlando airport

A few weeks ago this time, I was on a tin can en route from Frankfurt to Orlando. On Lufthansa, of course, which flies direct. But it was long flight - 10 hours and 20 minutes. Or longer depending on the Orlando operations, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

I was headed to Orlando for a big Americas partners meeting we generally have every three years, but had skipped the last one due to the economic crisis so this

was my first of these events. I was excited to see a lot of partners I hadn't seen for quite some time, but the fact that we would be in Orlando was largely lost on us as we would be in windowless ballrooms the entire day - it was just convenient because it has large hotel/event centers.

So back to the flight. In the boarding area, there were a bunch of people and children clearly excited about heading to the Magic Kingdom and others apparently headed there for golf and sun vacations (too bad for most of these as it was rainy and overcast most of t

he time I was there). I got more and more grumpy as I saw all the happiness. (Insert some music from "The Grinch" here.) Fortunately, I was in business class which should reduce the chances of cabin-wide happy people.

There are several cabins for business class on a Lufthansa 747-400. I was in the second cabin in the back row of the three-seat section on the aisle. The middle seat was empty, so I was relatively content. When I saw the red felt Christmas stocking that the amenity kit came in, I became totally content. And then there was a gentle tap on my shoulder and a flight attendant

suggested (in German) that I follow her. So I followed her further back in the plane to the third business class cabin which has only two rows. She offered me the two seats on the window side, suggesting that I might be more comfortable there because there was more light, it was a more quiet cabin and it was a bit more private. She was right and I moved immediately. At this point I was downright happy. Had a nice flight during I learned that this flight attendant lives only a few blocks from me in Frankfurt. Small, small world.

A strange thing (or several) happened when we landed, though. We had pulled up to the gate, the fasten seatbelt light went out with a ding and everyone got up and started heading toward the door. Normal so far, right. And we waited. And waited. And someone finally announced that it would be about 20 minutes until US Customs (or whatever we call this agency now) could clear our plane. The plane?? Maybe it's some kind of clearance rather than inspection, but I still found it odd. But by this time, we were already packed in the aisles and far away from our seats, so most of just remained standing for at least until five minutes until the pilot announced that we were going to be refueling so everyone would need to take their seats. Initially, I thought the refueling reference was somehow ominous, as in we might be shipped off somewhere else to wait, but then assumed that since we were already running a big behind, Lufthansa was trying to decrease the delay on the outgoing flight by refueling while we waited. Still not sure what refueling has to do with being in our seats as we weren't required to fasten our seatbelts but I guess it doesn't matter.

Anyway, we nevertheless had been ordered back to our seats and, again, no one is near their seats except perhaps those in the very back. There is a lot of baggage that has been hauled out of the overhead compartments. But the line did start finally moving backwards. And it was a bit awkward, particularly for those of us in business class who were looking at people who had already made themselves comfortable in the larger seats. Awkward.

We finally were let off the plane and hurried to immigration where the true nightmare was waiting and is I suspect the reason for the clearance of our plane by US Customs. When you arrive at the immigration area, about 80% of the immigration desks are designated for visitors and the remainder for US citizens and permanent residents, special needs and flight crews. It makes sense as I imagine there are a whole bunch more people flocking to Orlando for vacation and Disney than there are Orlando residents flying abroad for vacation. Just a guess... And the visitors lines were backed up like crazy, with the entire queue full - and that was before our plane was emptied.

While I had done my best to pass as German on the flight, at this point in time I was more than happy to display the blue passport and head to the short line. I was about fifth in line, so I figured it would be a short wait. I was wrong. I had temporarily forgotten that we were no longer in Germany and all precision and efficiency was left behind on the 747-400 that was probably still refueling outside. While there were four desks for citizens and permanent residents et cetera, only two were in use. And all the special needs people were queued in a separate line and the attendant always seemed to put them in front of the rest of us. We were not amused. It looked for a short while like a third desk would open up as someone entered the cubicle area, but was then joined by another colleague looking at something on the screen that was apparently fascinating. Approximately 45 minutes later, I finally cleared immigration (the actual process of which took about 2 minutes). Did I mention I was fifth in line?!

I headed toward the baggage claim area, assuming that my bags would be there and perhaps even already off-loaded. Um, no. Remember how the queue for the visitors was full when I arrived? Well, those passengers were from Virgin Atlantic and Air France flights. Each had two of the four baggage carousels (they put first and business class on a special carousel). Because they were still waiting to get through immigration, the majority of these individuals had not yet picked up their bags, regardless of class. So there was no free carousel for Lufthansa luggage. Grrr.... But I was wrong - German efficiency wasn't left at the 747-400. The local employees started pulling bags off one of the other carousels so that it could be used for Lufthansa luggage. Love it! So about 75 minutes after landing, I finally had my bags and headed out. Only to discover that the signage in that airport was the worst I had ever (and I do mean ever, which says a lot) encountered when all I wanted was a sign to the taxi line. Grrr....

I finally found the taxi line and headed to my hotel, where I was treated just like another American, rather than one of the poor, unwashed foreigners who had suffered through a long flight and immigration hassles. No sympathy. I realize in retrospect that when he asked for identification, I should have given him my German driver's license and spoken with an accent, if for no other reason than to confuse the poor guy and see whether he started speaking to me in a loud voice as if I were a foreigner (as Avis often does when I present the German driver's license). Nevertheless, the guy gave me a room with what was supposed to offer a view of the fireworks display at the Magic Kingdom, but which required staying up even longer. I made it. Barely. And fueled by chicken quesadillas. Oh, how I miss America's version of Mexican food....

And all that aside, the Marriott World Center has a special on FourSquare whereby you get 250 bonus Marriott Rewards points. I'm just sayin'....

8 December 2011 - Raclette

(Roxette's "Run to You" - because Roxette sounds like raclette and I would run to it if I knew it were around)

I made a passing reference

to raclette in the Zürich weekend entry a month or so ago, noting I could write an entire entry about it. So, after having experienced the joy again yesterday, I decided it was time.

Raclette is a meal that has its roots in Swiss (and perhaps also French, as the Savoy region of France also lays claim to the meal) cow herders (I don't think it would be right to call them cowboys in europe) who would pack the semi-firm raclette cheese and some bread when they went out to the fields. They would build a fire at night (no - there is no Pace salsa ad coming up here), heat up the cheese and melt it onto their bread. Perhaps like an early form of a grilled cheese sandwich?

The modern version is slightly different. The cheese is still the same, but you buy different forms of it in packages in an entire refrigerated section in the Swiss grocery stores. The cheese (which normally comes in large wheels) is pre-cut into square slices that are about 2-3 times the slice of a normal slice of cheese you might buy to put on a sandwich.

Instead of grilling over an open fire, there is now a special tabletop grilling oven/machine. The machines come with little fireproof trays that are in the same sized square as the cheese, along with a small spatula of the same non-flammable material. You pop the cheese into the tray (you might also add seasonings) and slide the tray underneath the heating element of the grilling machine. When the cheese begins to bubble, it is pretty much done.

Meanwhile, you assemble the other ingredients used in the raclette dining experience, including vegetables like tiny boiled potatoes, baby gherkins and pickled onions, as well as some slices of meat such as a wonderful laser-thin sliced and air-dried beef.

Once the cheese is done, it more or less slides out of the tray onto your plate over the other ingredients and you can scrape out the rest with the little spatula. I'm sure there are specific ways this should be done, but in any case, it is a delightful way to clog your arteries. I'm told it is particularly great after a day of skiing, so perhaps that combats the artery situation. In any case, it is wonderful and I highly recommend enjoying some of this delightful food when you are in Switzerland during the winter.

6 December 2011 - St. Nikolaus Day

("Jolly Old Saint Nicholas," of course)

The 6th of December is a special day for children in Germany and likely many other countries. But while I am, of course, accustomed to references to St. Nicholas and St. Nick, I had always that was just another name for Father Christmas and Santa Claus. Apparently not.....

On the 6th in Germany, is a gift-giving day. When evening comes, St. Nikolaus (Nicholas) knocks on the door of homes and asks about the behavior of the children inside (think "naughty or nice," for which he had a book), including more or less quizzing the kids themselves, who in turn are supposed to recite or sing something or otherwise demonstrate their unique skills. Upon successful performing, the child then receives a gift. It strikes me as a bizarre form of "Trick or Treat" but with only the treat/performance element.

So where did this tradition come from? Based on my not-so-extensive internet search, this tradition came from the legend of St. Nikolaus, who died on 6 December in AD 343. What's interesting to note, though, is that St. Nikolaus had a sidekick called Knecht Ruprecht. Ruprecht was initially along for the ride to punish the bad children. In addition to putting them in the sack he carried, he was also known to distribute lumps of coal or stones to bad children children or whips with which the children would be beaten, as opposed to the sweets and good things given by St. Nicholas. However, one online source noted that over the years, Ruprecht became known as one serving baby Jesus and eventually became known as the patron saint of Christmas - Father Christmas or Santa Claus. I find this somewhat unlikely, but again, I don't really understand the tradition.

What also remains unclear to me is the relation, if any, between Knecht Ruprecht and Belsnickel (Belschnickel if you are a Preuscher). The latter was also said to have given lumps of coals and whips in the stockings of children on Christmas, though he seems to be considered a bit on the scary and evil side - at least moreso than Ruprecht. At the same time, Belsnickel is said to deliver socks or shoes of sweets on 6 December. But if you're a Preuscher, Belsnickel visits on New Year's Eve to, allegedly, deliver the things that Santa forgot when he visited on Christmas Eve (read: "after-Christmas sale").

In any event, the St. Nikolaus holiday is celebrated widely in Germany and, as I learned this week, in its friendly Lufthansa skies. On my flight last night, instead of the regular half-sandwich wrapped in cellophane, I received a small drawstring white cotton bag with Santa Claus embroidered on the front. It contained the half-sandwich, a clementine orange, some Lebkuchen, a piece of chocolate and little piece of paper that contained both a scratch 'n' sniff sticker of holiday scents as well as the following explanation:

"Every year on the 6th of December, it's an old German custom to celebrate St. Nicholas Day. On that morning St. Nicholas makes the eyes of all good children sparkle with joy. Because on the night before, he came with his big bag of treats and filled their boots with nuts, sweets or little surprises.

"We too would like to surprise you on St. Nicholas Day - with this little sachet full of goodies in the spirit of the season. After savoring the treats inside, you're welcome to take it home as a little memento of the Lufthansa St. Nicholas. Enjoy!"

Sweet, huh? I'm still wondering about the coal guys, but pleased that at least Lufthansa, if not Knecht, are looking out for my interests.

4 December 2011 - O Tannenbaum

(Obviously, "O Tannenbaum," aka "Oh Christmas Tree")

As noted in my previous post, I am for whatever reason in the Christmas mood this year and started decorating. I even went so far as to consider a tree for the house. In prior years, I have just used the one Christmas decoration I brought over from the US - a metal structure from Crate & Barrel that consists of two triangular outlines that, when liked together, form something like a squarish Christmas tree which holds 10 taper candles. It works for me (I mean really - who doesn't like a good fire hazard?), though you can't really decorate it given the obvious flammability considerations.

So last Saturday, I headed out to Hornbach, my favorite hardware store that is conveniently located next to IKEA where I picked up a few more Christmas tchotchkes. Hornbach also is where I stock up on the gel fuel for my fake fireplace (as I type this and hearken back to one of the very early blogs regarding the "search for incendiary devices," I am beginning to wonder for the first time if I have some issues with fire).

Anyway, I found the trees in the garden area and was wandering around when one of the clerks came up and asked me if I needed some assistance. I told him that I was looking for a rather small tree since I do, after all, have cats that would love to climb (and topple) something taller and there's the small matter of transporting a larger tree. So he took me over to a different section where they had all of these little trees that were nearly so round as to be qualified as Christmas bushes. I found one that I thought would be fine, though, and that's when I realized that it wasn't just a tree ending in a stump, but a tree that was actually potted in one of those black plastic containers that you would buy a tree in if you were going to plant it at home. Uhhh....

Well, I was told (but not able to independently confirm this) that there is some EU regulation that, in order to further "green" goals, a certain portion of the Christmas trees sold are to be sold in pots with the idea that they would then be planted outside in the spring. Fascinating idea, no?

In any event, I liked the idea of something with a heavy base like this as it would decrease the odds (especially with the tree's (a picea pungens glauca, for those interested - I have nicknamed him "Picky") lower center of gravity due to its bush-like figure and relatively short height) that the Lads could successfully engage in tree-tipping. Not to mention that a tree that is alive should be less likely to lose needles in massive quantities.

So pictured here is, following repotting into an empty container from the balcony, the Christmas bush. Decorating is still ongoing, not only to find a proper top and a longer string of lights but also to try and find the right placement of ornaments to escape notice of the dangly ones by the cats. So far, only two have been batted down and, with location of unbreakable ornaments at the very bottom, no casualties.

The experience also reminded me of when I was in El Salvador as the Christmas season approached. It's obviously quite hot there and not exactly Picky's native habitat, so the trees would quickly dry out and lose their needles. If I recall correctly, Willy had said that the trees would be sent down in air conditioned train cars or trucks and they were in very short supply. Fascinating. But of course there were tons of poinsettias, which we got from Antigua, Guatemala, which is another story entirely. But I can't recall when I have ever seen something so beautiful as the acres and acres of poinsettias in the greenhouse. I will try to add a picture later if I can find one. But in the meantime.... "O Tannenbaum...."