Surf School Stories: On the green wave

So today, Simon, one of the surf coaches, took me “Out the Back” meaning paddled me out beyond the white water waves to where I might be able to attempt catching a ‘green’ or rather unbroken wave.

Let me just tell you that paddling out the back is so much harder than it looks. OK, I have to admit that my first paddle out wasn’t that bad because we caught the rip tide out so we didn’t have to work that hard but I was still exhausted. Of course once we got out there, Simon said “Wow, that was easy, but we didn’t get to work on any of the rolls under the waves, so we’ll have to catch a wave in and do it again.” Ugh, but so right. Practice makes perfect after all. I will be in much better shape when I finally make it back to Frankfurt.

I did manage to catch one green wave before we headed in, I didn’t quite stand up because I was so surprised, but my god what a rush! I can’t wait to do it again. I really hope the conditions stay favorable the rest of the time I’m here.

Surf School Stories: Bang up on a long board

Finally I’ve moved off the soft training boards onto a proper surf board. It’s about time too because those Swellies have been tearing up my hands the last few days. I’ve had to wear latex gloves to keep from completely ripping them to shreds. Entertainingly enough, it makes me look like I’m about to give someone a medical exam of sorts.

Anyway, today I moved off the foam training board and got put on an enormous 9+ foot longboard, which means I had a lot of surf board to handle in the waves today. But it was so much fun! I fell off more times than I could count, but by the end I was up and riding again although I didn’t get to do the big paddle out with Aari, my new best competitive friend. He’s a fantastic Australian guy from Sydney who happens to be living in London right now. But he’s annoyingly fast at picking up surfing for someone who’s never done it before.

Oh well, always good to have a little competitive spirit to push you further.

Today was such fun though. I love playing on a hard board although I have this feeling I am going to come home with immense bruises all over my body because of it. So nice to feel alive again.

Surf School Stories: Christmas eve dinner

So here it is, I’ve made friends. After arriving knowing no one at all, in three days as the full mooon lights up the sky I’ve somehow found myself making dinner with George and two of the girls in the surf course for Christmas Eve Dinner. I guess I really am an extraverted personality type. I have been totally reenergized by all of the people I’ve been meeting and once again I’m am stunned by how many fantastic people I keep encountering in all of my travels.

As I said, Christmas Eve dinner at my house with George and two Irish girls I met the last few days, Claire and Anne (pronounced like Anna with an ‘a’). Very cool, very last minute and somehow, between George and I, we managed to throw together a makeshift Spanish tortilla with pan fried potatoes and more than a few bottles of wine. Not so bad for catch as catch can.

After downing the food and beverage plus a few photo ops of us doing our best surf poses we were off for the only bar that was open in town, the Surf Bar. And while there I managed to spend most of the rest of the evening staring mesmerized at a series of surf DVDs including one featuring some of the big waves around Lanzarote Island. I think I might have to rent a car to go check some of them out before I leave.

Finally around 4am on Christmas Morning, we all stumbled (and I do mean stumbled) home. Not a bad way to kick off the holidays.

Surf School Stories: Ballerina on a board

Well, I’ve earned myself the nickname ballerina from George, one of the three coaches, for how I dance around on the board. I can’t quite seem to plant my feet once I’m up on them. But regardless of my challenges staying upright, I’m loving the experience.

Surfing seems to combine some of my favorite activities, the obvious ones of course, swimming and surf, but also things like yoga and skiing. The element of balance and speed combined is unbelievably fun. I have a sinking feeling that I may be acquiring a new piece of sports equipment before I leave the island.

Surf School Stories: My first day

For the last few months I’ve been itching for a vacation that lasts longer than a four day weekend, so when I realized that all of my clients would be on holiday over the Christmas/New Year’s period I decided to seize my chance and escape for two weeks. Although Asia was first on my list, the flight was so incredibly expensive that I went to my fall back, surf school in the Canary Islands. For less than the price of a ticket to Hong Kong I have managed to secure myself two weeks accommodations, 10 days of surf school and airfare to Caleta de Famara, Lanzarote, Canary Islands, Spain.

And here I am, I arrived yesterday and I have just finished my first day of surfing. So far, I love it. The coaches are fantastic. Two guys from the UK, both what you’d imagine surf instructors to be, typical beach blond boys who must be somewhere between 26 and 30 years old. But hugely knowledgeable about their sport. I’ve been so impressed already. And! I’ve actually managed to stand up one of the soft training boards. Not bad for having never surfed before.

It’s funny how after months of having no time to do anything active, I find myself so comfortably, physically exhausted at the end of the day. I really do miss this feeling when work gets too crazy and hectic to do more than just stumble home and fall into bed. I think it’s a good reminder that there’s more to life than just sitting behind a desk all day, every day for 12+ hours at a time.

I have a good feeling about this holiday.

In Memorium: Angela W. Siegel June 28, 1914 to December 13, 2007

Yesterday at the age of 93, my grandmother, Angela Siegel, passed away. She was the daughter of David and Honey Welcher, a sister to Ruby and Charlotte. She was wife to Archie Siegel, mother of Elliot and Melodee, grandmother to David, Mollie, Marc and myself, and great-grandmother to Nico and Dana.

She traveled the world at a time when many people didn't, visiting Europe, Russia, South America. Always turned out in the finest, she loved fashion and art. Somehow she was always a little ahead of her time. Her house is filled with the artists she loved, artists she found in Mexico when traveling with my grandfather. Art that in later years could bring tears to her eyes, paintings she referred to as friends, memories of the life she had lived and the man she had loved.

She was a complicated woman, a woman of contradictions. Challenging and cutting with her words, she still made sure that her family was never in need. Her relationships with her family were difficult and I don't think any one of us could say that it had always been easy and joyful with her. But yet she was loved. And she had friends that were there for her when our family was too far away to get there in a matter of minutes. For that I am grateful.

My grandmother watched her parents, her sisters and her husband die before her. But she also welcomed into the world two children, four grandchildren and two great-grandchildren. She always told me that we should never mourn her, that her life had been well lived and she had no regrets. At the end of it all, the only thing she really wanted was to be with her Archie. After almost 30 years without him, that time has come.

This is for Angel, my grandmother. Here is to a life fully lived and a man truly loved. There are no regrets and while I am sad that she is no longer with me, I am glad that I can celebrate an extraordinary life.

Lost in Vienna: Melange afternoons

It is my third weekend in Vienna in three months now. This is a pattern I could get used to. . .

Sadly this weekend has been a grey and rainy one but that didn't keep the city from looking beautiful decked out in the finest of white light chandaliers that were strung down the entire stretch of the main pedestrian area in the heart of the city. It also didn't seem to impact our ability to drink rather copious quantities of punsch at one of the Christkindelmarkts last night. For those who might not be familiar punsch is the Viennese version of German spiced wine, but instead of wine they spike spiced orange tea with rum. Very tasty I have to say.

Anyhow, it's our last night here and no trip to Vienna with Nick would be complete without many hours spent in Nick's favorite Kaffeehaus, Hawelka. Unfortunately last night, Nick's phone got stolen right here where we are currently sitting. Nick said it felt like someone had walked into his living room and stolen something from his home. But here we are back at the scene of the crime, enjoying, admittedly, less than spectacular coffee, but thoroughly soaking up the inimitable atmosphere of this place for the second time this weekend with my former tour guide, Florian. And while they speak rapid fire German and Nick shakes off his sense of violation, I am busy with my German homework.

We're off for dinner with Max in a little bit to enjoy the two rabbits he shot hunting this weekend as well as some famous chocolate cake he promised to bake us now that I've brought him his US measuring cups/spoons. I admit I'm curious to see what kind of cake this is . . . then tomorrow an early flight home. Fortunately Nick has finally stopped wearing his light up Christmas cap, for a while there he was twinkling like a little elf.

Sometimes I just can't quite believe this is really my life. . .

Hanukkah, Latkes and Dad

The Festival of Lights, the famous minor Jewish holiday that grew in prominence during the 50s and 60s when secular Jews in America had to figure out how to fight Christmas envy amongst their children. I love it. Materialism at its finest.

But on a happy note, my dad was back from Berlin in order to kick off the first night of the holiday with me, complete with candle lighting, long winded histories of the holiday and my favorite of favorites: Latkes. Due to an unfortunate oversight on my part there was no dreidel playing or Hanukkah gelt involved, but next year, next year for sure.

Now for those who don't know and love latkes the way I do, let me tell you, they are fantastic. They come in all shapes and sizes and under a variety of names. For instance Germans call them Kartoffelnpuffer. Depending on the recipe they can resemble hash browns, more of a mashed potato type of consistency, or light fluffy potatoey goodness. Everyone loves the way their family makes them and it's practically sacrilegious to defect from the family tradition to another method of preparation. But one thing remains the same regardless of what the recipe is, they are all fried in immense amounts of oil. Delish!

So to all those out there celebrating 8 days of fried goodness, candle lighting and good old fashioned gift giving I say, Happy Hanukkah!

And in the spirit of goodwill, I share my grandmother's Latke recipe:

2 large Russet Potatoes
1 medium Yellow Onion
a pinch of Salt
1 T of Flour
1 Egg (Optional and totally dependent on the consistency)

Canola Oil for Frying

Peel the potatoes and the onion. Pop both ceremoniously into a blender. Blend until completely pureed. Add a pinch of salt and the flour.

Pour enough oil into the pan so it is about 1/2" to 3/4" deep and heat the oil until it shimmers. Test a small spoonful of the potato batter to make sure it is hot enough (The batter will immediately sizzle when it is). Make sure that the oil does not start to smoke!

Spoon the potato batter into the oil, about 2 tablespoonfuls per pancake. Fry on both sides until golden.

Serve with sour cream or apple sauce depending your preference.

**Note: Latkes can be kept warm in a 140°F oven while frying all the batter.

Lost in Germany: Nürnberg Weihnachtsmarkt and a Walled City

Another weekend exploring Germany, oh how I love it.

This weekend my dad was here so after a great day and a half wandering around Frankfurt we hopped the train to see another city, Nürnberg with a small side trip to Rothenberg ob der Tauber. Seeing as it’s now the height of the Christmas season I didn’t feel like I could live in Germany and not see the most famous Weihnachtsmarkt in the whole country. Besides, it’s a city with a wonderfully rich history and I knew that would appeal to my dad.

After a relatively quick and easy train trip, we arrived in Nürnberg to a grey a drizzly day. Not that the weather could possible stop us from exploring almost immediately. So we picked up a spare umbrella and headed off into the city. First stop: food. A great little find of a restaurant on Dürer Strasse, which actually led us to realize that Albrecht Dürer lived in Nürnberg and his house was just down the street. I being the uneducated girl that I am didn’t realize who Dürer actually was until my dad explained to me that he was one of the most highly respected European painters (insert more historical info here). With that bit of knowledge in hand, we toured through his family home listening to the headsets which gamely attempted to further inform my knowledge of the subject.

Once we trundled back out to the street fully educated, we headed up to the main castle in Nürnberg where we found ourselves on another tour, but this time it was live and in German. I guess it was a great opportunity to apply my recently acquired linguistic schools. Although I followed bits and pieces our guide really caught my attention when he took us into the well which was over 300 meters deep and had been dug over a more than xx year period. It took more than 10 seconds for water poured from a pitcher to reach the bottom of the well. Incredible.

The night was spent wandering through the Christmas market, and we did actually walk down every single aisle in the square where I found several of my heart’s desires: Nürnberg sausages and gingerbread. Yum.

After an early night, we got up the next day and wandered through the city a bit more. It was wonderful having everything to ourselves for a few hours. I love the feeling of a city asleep, there’s something so intimate about being privy to that. We didn’t linger too long though before we hopped on the train to Rothenberg ob der Tauber.

Another very old city, Rothenberg is a medieval walled city, in some ways very similar to Nürnberg but just a bit smaller. Probably the highlight for my dad and I was exploring the Lutheran church in the center of the city. All my dad could keep muttering was how hard it was to believe that it was a Lutheran church and not a Catholic one. Now I don't know that much about what distinguishes one Christian place of worship from another branch, but even I could tell this was an extraordinarily ornate Lutheran church. Beautiful for sure, but ornate. And in fact, somewhat contradictory to the principles of what Luther himself had preached, a move away from the conspicuous wealth and consumption of Catholicism.

Anyhow, it was a great little stop although we didn't linger long. Soon enough we hopped back on the train to head to Frankfurt. It's been great having my dad here for a few days. I think sometimes it's easy to get caught up in the daily grind and neglect to see how fast time is actually passing you by. I'm really grateful that we have this time together.