Verkehrsmuseum!!!

For Jethro's second birthday we decided to check out Dresden's Verkehrsmuseum (transportation museum). If you're coming to Dresden and you have a boy (or man) who will find looking at Renaissance art for three hours boring, here is a fine cultural alternative.

There are cars!

 Airplanes!

Humungous engines!

 Trains!

 Motorcycles!

 

Old trams!

 

Boats!

(we didn't get any good pictures of boats)

My men were in hog heaven. And for me there were lots of creepy mannequins to be startled by.

 

So it's not the Louvre. But we loved it.

JEM

Schwebebahn!!!

For my first birthday here (my 24th, which seems like a very long time ago) some of our then-new friends gave me two tickets to ride the Dresden Schwebebahn, the world's oldest suspension railway. Naturally we procrastinated/forgot until last October, over three years later, when upon our arrival to the base of the Schwebebahn, I discovered I'd left the tickets sitting on the dresser. (Thanks, anyway, Benjamin and Susi. It was still a really thoughtful gift.)

 

The Schwebebahn climbs 273 meters up the western lip of the ridge that surrounds Dresden.

The ride is really fun.

And the view at the top is amazing.

Come to Dresden and ride the Schwebebahn. The end.

And for future appearances of my black "leather" jacket, please read the Alpine Line, who's author inherited it over New Year's.



JEM

FIELDTRIP! to Meissen

Before I say anything about Meissen, I want to say that my account of it won't do the place justice. We just wandered around it for a few hours one Saturday morning in September without a plan or a guidebook, just to get a feel for the place before naptime. Jethro's naptime.

OK, and maybe Jake's and my naptime, too. It's an important part of our weekend ritual, and I refuse to apologize for it.

Now, let us begin. Meissen is an absolutely picturesque little German city on the Elbe 25 kilometers outside Dresden. It's home to about 30,000 people and an inordinate amount of history and fame, given its size. The reason for that is porcelain.

It was in Meissen in 1708 that the first fine white porcelain was concocted outside Asia. The story of its creation is a surprisingly gripping one, involving a charlatan alchemist who claimed to be able to create gold out of ordinary materials and Dresden's favorite egomaniac, Elector of Saxony August the Strong, who put the alchemist to work with a mathematician and scientist to uncover the formula for porcelain — and give August another reason to feel fantastic about himself. 

 

Meissen porcelain is still regarded as the some of the finest in the world.

 

 

There's a big porcelain factory in Meissen, but we didn't go to it. Judging by their advertising campaign, it's probably not a good place for children. Or husbands.

 

In case you were wondering, the item being sold here is the strategically positioned teacup. 

The closest we got to any porcelain was through shop windows. After examining the price tags through the thick glass, I decided I shouldn't let myself or my 2-year-old get any closer than that. The only thing I saw that was within our price range was a porcelain thimble.

Downtown Meissen is great for strolling. There are beautiful shops and buildings and narrow, winding cobblestone streets.

"Wake up, you're having a bad dream!"

If you're up for a good cardio workout, push your 200 pound kinderwagen up the 90 degree switchbacks that lead to the city's impressive gothic cathedral, built in 1450.

All that, a yummy lunch of Sauerbraten and Rotkohl in the town square and home in time for a nap. Thanks, Meissen. You are just the gem everyone said you were.



JEM

My Husband is 30 or How We Met the Alps

Happy super-late birthday to my bear-robot husband. Last month turned 30 years old. Before I talk about our fabulous weekend in AUSTRIA to celebrate, allow me to take a moment for a toast, in haiku form:

Handsome scientist

Implants seeds of love and joy

In my heart: Success

Jake finished writing his dissertation at the end of September, having written and compiled most of it (unbelievably) in a month. His defense is scheduled for our 8th wedding anniversary in December, which we presume is a good omen for the defense — and a bad omen for our anniversary, which Jake will most likely spend (pre-defense) puking and (post-defense) in a coma.

He has worked so hard these last few years, and in particular the last year. It's a gross understatement on my part to say that I'm proud of him. To say that I'm in awe of him is probably more appropriate. As the person closest to him, you'd think I'd have some sort of behind-the-scenes insight into how he's capable of all the things he does, but I'm more amazed and bewildered by him with every passing year. I'm just delighted to ride on his coattails through all of it, and to have such a fantastic view while doing so. (Implication: He has a really nice can.)

But enough with the the talk of my hot scientist lover. I know that's not what you paid to see. (Or is it?) I'll assume/hope you'd rather see pictures of gorgeous Innsbruck. But first a shot of the tasty, traditional Austrian Sachertort provided by our hosts.

Jake's new age was represented by the candles on the cake in binary, which our hosts, longtime friends Ben and Missy, knew to be Jake's love language. True friends, indeed.

 

 My Ames is true.

Now let's talk about the Alps.

I grew up in Idaho and then I lived in Utah, so I'm pretty used to mountains. I'm not that easily impressed by them. That said, the Alps BLEW MY MIND.

The pictures we came home with don't do them justice, so allow me to wax poetical for a moment —

On either side the city of Innsbruck is flanked by sheer walls of rock that jut up out of nowhere. There are no foothills to speak of to provide any warning. They're suddenly just there, shooting up into the sky higher and steeper than you would ever think possible. Standing in the city almost feels like standing in a tunnel. Jake and I were shocked to see commercial airplanes taking off and landing from the city. I wouldn't doubt if the Innsbruck airport were one of the most dreaded for airline pilots the world over. 

I, of course, knew that people skied the Alps, not people like me, but actual human people. But after seeing the ski lodges perched on tiny precipices apparently miles from the level ground where sane people stand and chair lifts that seemed to take almost completely vertical routes that disappeared into the clouds (not fog, mind you, I'm quite sure that at that height they must be considered clouds), I really cannot fathom this. No less remarkable are the medieval castles and fortresses dotting the mountains only slightly closer to Earth. Kudos to peasant labor.

 

 

Innsbruck itself is a beautiful city.

  

And it also has some beautiful residents.

 

Well, technically they live just outside Innsbruck, but whatever.

 

But unfortunately this beautiful place is plagued by sudden powerful gusts of wind ...

Missy and Ben took us up to see Achensee, Austria's largest lake, which is located high enough among the Alps that the car trip required several ear popping episodes on my part.

Apparently while Missy had our camera at the lake those violent winds picked up again ...

But, as it is with any visit we have with these guys, the best part was just hanging around and catching up. Jethro had a particularly good time and was heard to say as we pulled away, "I love Missy."

Watch your back, Ben.

And thus, dear Ameses, till the winds of life reunite us again ...

Merry Christmas from the Michamesons

... may we cherish this pseudo-J. Crew catalog photo of all of us with this nice yellow park bench.

We love you guys. Thanks for all the good times.

JEM