Punting

So when you get to Oxford (or Cambridge), one of the things you MUST do, weather permitting, is punting.

Punting is the English equivalent of the gondola. Around  four to five people can fit on a single boat, and you can hire a guide--or do it yourselves, which is a cheaper and more fun alternative--to stick a huge metal pole into the river and move the boat by pushing against the bottom. Turning the boat is done by swinging the pole from side to side in the water. The latter was the hardest part, since you tend to overcompensate if you're bearing too far left or right, and then you have to readjust yourself. OR, if you're like me, on your first try, the boat ends up completely horizontal, and you have to make it turn another 90 degrees to right it.

To be good and fast at it, you need to have a lot of upper body strength, which I am clearly lacking. I got the knack of it in the end, but even then I was really, really slow. But smooth. No more bank-hitting.

I was a little dismayed by the views, though. Unlike Cambridge, the river at Oxford doesn't really penetrate the school, so the view wasn't as nice.

I don't really know what the tiny paddle was for, but it was fun to think you were doing something haha

Best part, aside from punting? When we were trying to figure out who was going on which boat, Alex jumped to the side and said, "I'm one boat!" A few people stayed where they were, and others moved to her side. Turns out, all the white people were in one boat, and the Asians were in the other, which led someone to comment on their racist subconscious, haha. The entire time we were punting, whenever our boats bumped each other, we were yelling, "Don't colonize us!"

Saxon Switzerland

I have uncanny bad luck when it comes to hiking. If I don't get lost at some point during the trek, then I discover my troubles were all for some pathetic view at the top. Or, as at Mt. Tamalpais with Ari, we manage to nearly get stuck at the top due to a poorly planned itinerary. And getting lost. Hiking without looking at maps seems to be a pretty bad idea.

The same happened in Saxon Switzerland. It was alright at first: I'd gone without an actual plan, but I knew I wanted to see the Bastei. It was an okay climb, some stairs and slopes, nothing too difficult. The view wasn't impressive until the fortress/bridge appeared.

And is it just me, or does this totally look like the Bridge of Eldin from Zelda?! Yes?!?1?!

Actually, it wasn't really that romantic. I played with the colors on photoshop hahaha. This is how it really looked.

Another view!

Anyways, when we'd finished that part of the trail, we hiked back into town, and I had no idea what to do. Most of the trails take 4 hours or so, and while I wanted to go down a smugglers' ravine, my mom's knees were starting to hurt, so I took the train to Schmilka, a town right at the border of Germany and Czech Republic with supposedly really good views.

What no one told us--or what I didn't know and didn't/should've looked up--was that it was a super steep hill paved with rough cobblestones on the way up. And the view, if there was any to be had, was completely obscured along the way by trees. We were planning  on taking the 30  minute walk, but 15 minutes in, we were so exhausted by the climb that we decided to stop  and start walking back down. Especially since the people walking down said there wasn't anything too impressive at the top.

Sigh. And so for the rest of the trip, we avoided major hikes, haha. Lessons learned. Although in Salzburg I really wanted to go hiking in some of the national parks, but there we couldn't get to the park without a car. The fast train ticket was too expensive, and the cheap train ticket took 6 hours thanks to the mountains separating the town from the parks. Nature hates me.

Day 2, Being Pretentious

Edit: I'd like to add that Oscar Wilde holds the record for entering and exiting the judicial affairs office at Oxford.

Half this post concerning the dinner is dedicated to Kai. You should've been there. You would've enjoyed it immensely.

After sleeping for a blissful 10  hours, I woke up at 8:59 (right before my alarm rang! take that!), had breakfast, and went to the mandatory orientation session where they briefed us on academics here in Oxford. I won't say much about that until classes actually start, but I am sad that I've been put on the waiting list for the architecture class. On the other hand, that means I may potentially have a 6-day weekend, considering how all the classes I'm interested in meet on Wednesday, and the architecture class would've been on both Tuesdays and Thursdays.

This was followed by a brief tour of part of the university. As you guys may or may not know, Oxford University is composed of 38 independent colleges, most of which have both undergrads and grad students. I think 6 colleges have only graduate students (or only undergrads? I forget which), and another school in particular, All Souls, hosts only fellows. Basically, fellows are the cleverest people--to the point where we haven't even heard of some of them probably--on the planet and can only be admitted via invitation. The other way in which you can enter is if you take a 12-hour examination, and if you pass, you have to be grilled by the entire faculty of the school. If you get in, however, you get a very, very large stipend to do anything you please. Apparently, one girl is now living in a cottage in Scotland writing a novel.

All Souls also have a really strange tradition that takes place every 100 years. It involves a huge dinner and chasing a duck around the building, hahahah, and I've completely forgotten the legend behind it. I'd like to see this. Oxford has many strange traditions and legends. Another is Mayday, where people get drunk and jump off the bridge into the river at night.

The buildings are also really interesting in that there is a story behind every grotesque (gargoyles stick out of the building, grotesques are stuck to the surface). For example, the boar on the Sheldonian theater represents the legend in which a student, who couldn't go home from Christmas, decided to go to the park to study Aristotle. He was so engrossed in reading his  book that he didn't notice a wild boar stalking up to him, preparing to attack and eat him. When he finally noticed the animal, he stuffed the book down his throat, causing it to choke and die, and he returned victorious with his own Christmas boar. Great story. See how useful it is to study Aristotle?

Anyways, I've been sorted into Corpus Christi, which is now one of the smallest of the oldest colleges in Oxford. When it was built, it was meant to house the students that "worked like bees" in their study of religion. Indeed, in the shield of the school, there is a pelican stabbing its breast, because it was said that the pelican would sacrifice itself to save the young. NOT MORBID AT ALL.

However, out of the three I could've been sorted into, the other two being Magdalen and Brasenose, Corpus has the best food. That's fine by me, too.

Finally, the highlight of the day: the welcome dinner at Corpus Christi. Everyone dressed up smartly for this occasion, and we were led to an old study that you really only see in the movies now, or at Ivy League schools: carpeted floor, dark colored walls, butlers/porters standing around handing out glasses of sherry. It was really impressive, and really pretentious. All the men standing in dress shirt, slacks and ties, holding a glass of sherry in their hands in the setting we were in. It was perfect. (Sweet sherry beats dry sherry any day. I had one sip. Andrew kept making fun of me for not finishing it. Whatever.) The one thing I do regret is being outside when the head porter came in and announced, "Dinner will be served shortly...you are invited to enter the dining hall..." in a British accent. Noooo!

We entered a room with a 40-foot ceiling, and three long tables were arranged with name-cards for us to sit at. It was awesome: three-course meal, followed by tea or coffee. Dinner should be served like that every day. Scratch that. Every meal should be served like that every day, and each should be preceded by its occupants laundering around in formal wear with a glass of sherry. Kai, you should've been there.

Anyways, that was that. Sadly, most dining hall meals will not be like that. At least I found an Asian supermarket so I can cook for myself before the halls open.

Finally, at Oxford

So, the day has finally arrived--starting from today, I'll be living at Stanford House in Oxford. My room is like a midrange hostel, very spacious, lots of closet/drawer space, but the sinks/showers are all located elsewhere. The walls are a beige color, and all the furniture seems to be made of oak. Some annoying factors 1) the desk has a bunch of shallow drawers that don't really seem to be useful at all, 2) the room is really hot 3) NO WIFI WHAT KIND OF BACKWARD COUNTRY IS THIS?! I think the last one is the most upsetting.

On a whole, though, the entire house is like a labyrinth. Apparently, this house was made by connecting a bunch of disparate houses together via halls and stairways after knocking the walls down. That explains why, to get to my room, I have to walk up two flights of stairs, turn right, walk up another flight, walk down a flight, then  enter a door before encountering the door of my room. There are loads of white doors everywhere, and they all look the same. It's ridiculously easy to get lost--end up in other sections of the house, other floors (and I don't even know how those are defined), other kitchens, showers, etc.

Like the rest of Oxford, the house is also really old. For starters, the showers are smaller than the ones in Cedro--and that's saying something. Every time I reach up to wash my hair, my elbow inevitably makes contact with one of the walls. But I think the object that best embodies the time period this house was built in is the washing machine. I couldn't really figure out if I was using it correctly, and even though my clothes came out okay, I still don't know if I did the right thing or not. Gah.

Anyways, aside from exploring the house today, I did some grocery shopping. Oxford doesn't officially start until 10/3, and until then, we have to make our own meals. Problem? I CAN'T FIND ANYTHING ASIAN!!! I was planning on getting noodles and making noodle soup, or chow mein, but there's only pasta. No Asian vegetables either. I really don't know what I'm going to do for the next 10 days. My perfect plan is ruined. (Read: Maybe I should learn to cook a more diverse set of meals.)

PS: I like how I'm already starting classes and Oxford, but I've yet to upload and blog about the majority of my trip in Germany. I blame lack of internet and shooting in .NEF. I promise I will finish someday!

Urban Design II

One of the things I miss most about Berlin is its urban design. It is such a beautiful yet efficient city. All the space is used economically, and they really pay attention to the details to make everything pleasing to the eye and incorporate it into whatever it's a part of. For example, the architecture of the Holocaust and Judisches (Jewish) Museum are as much a part of the museum and memorial as the displays within it.

The Holocaust Memorial. The blocks don't really symbolize anything, but between the rows, the paths roll up and down like hills. It's also really dark in there.

The inside of the Holocaust Museum. The rooms were all completely dark--really somber. In this one the white projections are historical documents like letters from the concentration camp prisoners. The translation was written on the side.

Jewish Museum. Really cool architecture. The entire building was designed as three crooked pathways originating from the entrance. One was the Axis of Death, which led to a completely pitch-black, sound-proof room with one window at the top of the room. The Axis of Continuity led to the actual museum on the history of Judaism and the effects of the Holocaust. I think the other was the Axis of Exile, which led to a garden. The metal glints you see at the bottom of this picture were flattened discs with faces on them.

And then there's the public transport system. It's just so well organized; at every stop, there's an electronic sign showing times until the next line arrives. (They're also timed to the second. I became so used to this that in Munich, when a bus was just 1-2 minutes late, I was completely flipping out and going, "Is the bus not running today?! What's going on?!" And I'm not even usually punctual myself. ) At signposts in tourist areas, the number of meters until the destination is displayed. Little things like that are so useful. They've clearly put a lot of thought into planning everything, and it shows. Other tiny things: the escalators start only when people step on them in some areas, doors on buses and trams only open if you press a button, the bike lanes are an extension of the sidewalk rather than on the side of the road...everything is optimized for the consumer.

I'm also an interior décor freak, which explains why I love IKEA so much. In Berlin, I've discovered a plethora of other brands like iittala and BoConcept. I would've bought everything in the shop if I had an infinitely expandable luggage and money at my disposal. Visit their websites for some of their super cool designs.

 In my next life, I totally want to become a product design major. Or urban design. Just insert ----- before design and I will do it.

Other really cool architectural designs from Berlin:

Sony Center at Potsdamer Platz. This hung over the entire open air plaza, which was full of cinemas, film mmuseums, and restaurants. On weekends at sunset this would glow purple, pink, and blue.

Reichstag, the Pariliament building.

The funnel goes through the glass and ends in the middle of the actual parliamentary room.

You can walk up around the glass funnel to the rooftop.

Crooked Houses

Quedlinberg, a few hours from Berlin.

The Epic Fail Bridge

I mentioned Dresden before in an earlier post about how it got blast to smithereens in WWII, rebuilt, and now houses one of the biggest treasure troves in Germany. Well, part of the city lies right along the Elbe River, and this area is exactly where all the old, albeit rebuilt, palaces and residences are located, making the scenic riverside a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

At least, it was until 2005, when the government built a highway bridge spanning the Elbe River in the original heritage site, effectively ruining the view. Compare:

JPEG made this pixelated...it looked better as TIF boohoo

See the highway bridge in the distance? So plain and boring?

The old, rebuilt bridge.

 On the one side, you have this gorgeous view of the river and the old bridges and buildings that adorn its banks. On the other side, you have...traffic.

Anyhow, by building the bridge, the government essentially breached World Heritage Convention, which sparked a lot of controversy. They're currently trying to find a way to get the status back, but I think it's chances are slim. Fail. I mean, they could've at least made it look like the other two bridges spanning the river, right?!

Wurst Wurst Wurst

German food is the bomb.

Best soft-serve ever!!! The vanilla tasted more like vanilla than sugar for once, and the chocolate was slightly bitter. Perfection. I  ate the first one without taking a photo so that I would have an excuse to buy another one later on.

Everything here tastes better: fresh rye bread is amazing in the mornings, and for breakfast you add cucumbers and ham/salami to make a sandwich. Yum! The cucumbers are juicier and crunchier than in the US, and the apples are, too. The butter and the honey taste fresher as well, but I really have no explanation why, aside from the fact that this is clearly not America. For processed foods, the absence of high fructose corn syrup is probably a major factor: everything tastes better when the flavor is largely derived from the major components, not sugar.

Of course, German traditional food can't be beat, either.

Wurst (sausages) from Nuremberg are some of the best in Germany. I agree completely.

New fad of currywurst! Consists of wurst, tomato sauce, and surprise, curry powder. This restaurant got third place in the national currywurst competition, but I didn't like it as much as some of the ones from off the street. The fries were more of the highlight for me. Or maybe I got the wrong thing. There were hella sauce flavors and the only one I could understand was "Mild Curry." Coincidentally that was also the one in English.

The Germans eat pork legs, too! But the Chinese version tastes better and is more manageable. Look at the size of the thing in the background! My mom and I managed to finish it all off, but I wanted to become vegetarian for a few days after. Too much meat.

 One dish I'm really starting to appreciate here is soup. At home I considered soup a waste of space for what could really be going into your stomach. The soups here taste fresh, as if the herbs and vegetables had just been picked out of the garden, and they're given in thick, heaping portions.

Spinach soup with cream.

Saxon potato soup, which was different from what I expected. It was made completely from non-processed vegetables. No cream, no bacon. Still delicious.

Okay, that's all I have at the moment. Look forward to more in the future. Particularly on dessert. I'm becoming an expert in apple strudel :)

Filthy Rich Saxon Kings

Dresden, the second city I've been staying in, is the capital of the state of Saxony. Most recognize the name from the controversial Allied aerial bombing towards the end of WWII, where parts of this city were entirely decimated. Since then, most of the old town has been rebuilt, particularly the huge palaces King Augustus the Strong built, and up until recently, the city had been a UNESCO World Heritage Site (more on that later...it's one of two cities to have that title revoked).

But enough of the history. For now, all you need to know is that King Augustus was an art fanatic. When he ascended the throne, he gathered all the best artists, from sculptors to jewelers to painters, at his palace and commissioned works of gold, silver, mother-of-pearl, and ivory, to name a few.

Where did all this go? Into his vaults, of course. And they're not just any plain old vaults. Oh no. Since he was rich, he had to show it. I don't know German, so I've already forgotten the term for this style, but basically, the items were grouped in rooms according to value, with the last room containing the best of the works. As if the art pieces themselves didn't say enough about their own worth, the rooms became more and more extravagant as well, matching the art. We started in a green marble room containing ivory statues and ended up in a room covered in mirrors with gold veneer on the ceilings. Small shelfs lined with gold paint were arranged on the mirrors, and gold/jeweled encrusted chalices/crystal cups/mother-of-pearl caskets/semi-precious stone carvings/etc were placed on each. I would say that at least 200 items were contained in each room. (And my description really isn't doing the vault any justice at all: go here for some pictures of the art pieces and for the ridiculousness of the rooms)

Essentially, the room was covered in shiny objects, and then this effect was multiplied because of the mirrors. I didn't know it was possible to become sick of jewelry and gold before this, but I definitely eventually got a headache from looking at everything.

That is not to say, though, that I didn't appreciate the 41-karat brilliant cut green diamond that is the only one of its kind in the world. Exposure to radiation led the green coloring, and the diamond was set as a brooch surrounded by at least 20 other 16-karat diamonds. All together, now: ooooooh, pretty!

Cloud 9

Orangerie, Potsdam

I love looking at the sky in Germany. The clouds especially turn out great in photos, and they actually look like the theoretical defined masses kids and Pixar draw. California has semi-non-existent clouds on sunny days that appear as streaks of white or as wispy wads with blurry edges that fade into blue. Very unimpressive and 100% boring.

I definitely saw a parade of clouds on the train ride from Berlin to Quedlinberg that looked like an assortment of different pillows. These aren't the ones, but hey, it makes for a pretty picture.

Berliner Dom, Berlin

Urban Design I

Why don't our malls look like this?

Quartier 206, Friedrichstrasse, Berlin

Next Time I'm in Church, Please No Photos

I'd brought my Nikon D3000 all the way to Europe with the intention of being an absolute Asian tourist and taking pictures of everything and anything. For the most part, I've been fulfilling this goal everywhere I go. Germany in particular is quite smart about it sometimes: in certain palaces, I've had to pay to for a paparazzi permit, and if everyone is paying 3 additional euros for that privilege, that's quite the flow of money.

England could definitely stand to learn something from this. Imagine my surprise when I arrived at Westminster Abbey, took out my camera to take a picture of the amazing vaulted ceilings and stained glass windows, and was promptly told that no photography was allowed.

The OUTSIDE of Westminster Abbey. Jerks

What did you just say?!

I wanted to grab the volunteer by her shoulders, shake her really hard, and tell her that I do what I want. Blehh. Instead, after she shot me a glare for gaping at her in shock, I put my camera away like a good little girl and waited for the tour.

If there's anything about England I appreciate aside from tea at breakfast, it's the dry humor the people are constantly doling out. I'm usually not a big fan of history lectures, but when the tour guide puts everything in terms of one-upping the previous monarch, I'm all for hearing the stories. Westminster Abbey was first built by King Edward the Confessor, so named because he confessed his Christian faith (getting creative here, huh?). Part of his intention of building the abbey was so that he would have a place to be buried when he died, which was unfortunately just a few days after the building was completed. After his death, William from Normandy came to steal the throne by killing his successor at the Battle of Hastings. As a show of his superiority, William I was crowned right smack on top of Edward's grave. Which led to the current tradition of holding coronation ceremonies in Westminster Abbey...right where Edward was originally buried, haha.

As the fame of Westminster Abbey grew, more and more people wanted to be interred there, which led to its eventual expansion. Kings got pissed that there was no more space left underground for their own burials or any space above ground for monuments/memorials to themselves, so they started building their own wings. Others thought they were too good for Westminster and asked to be buried near Windsor Castle instead. Or, as Churchill said when he refused to be buried at the abbey, "I've let people step on me all during life, I don't want to give them a chance to do that in death." This led to the huge building you see today--even now, they still don't have enough space for all the different, which is why they've started painting in names on stained glass windows to honor the dead.

And in the case of Oliver Cromwell, after turning England into a Republic and having been buried for three years at Westminster, the next king exhumed his body (I can only imagine what state it would have been in...), put it on trial for treason, had it cut into tiny bits, and threw the parts into the river. The head remained on a stake until a storm blew it away. I won't be forgetting his name anytime soon.

Solidarity

                            
 Apparently, the British really like rules, which explains why many of the buildings in a neighborhood look exactly the same. This is one of the reasons why I like Berlin better: every building is unique, whether it is leftover from centuries ago or built recently.

PS: Originally, I was going to recount my daily adventures on this blog, but seeing as how I don't often have internet, I'm going to pull a Sartorialist approach, where I post something on whatever it is I thought of. With a photo.