Tag Archives: Europe

rants

My review of Outback Steakhouse…

No, I didn’t like it…  and in fact, I haven’t been back in the four years since I posted this review.  I am rehashing it because it was an entertaining review that sparked funny comments.  Wish I could import the comments here, but maybe someone will come along and contribute new ones.

Outback Steakhouse… why an Australian themed restaurant makes me passionately miss Europe #1200

Jan 19, 2010 (Updated Feb 2, 2010)
Review by   

Rated a Very Helpful Review

  • User Rating:Very Good

  • Food and Presentation: 
  • Ambiance and Decor: 
  • Quality of Service: 

Pros:Good food. Serving size was fine.

Cons:Obvious rushing through the meal coupled with constant upselling.

The Bottom Line:Although the food was good, the service was mediocre.  Way too much pressure to eat and run.

My husband Bill and I just had a very disappointing meal at Outback Steakhouse. We are on the road this week, so I expect to be writing a slew of restaurant reviews. There happens to be an Outback Steakhouse in the depressing sea of parking lots and strip malls behind our hotel in Murfreesboro, Tennessee. Bill and I decided to swing by tonight for dinner.

This was not our first trip to Outback. Bill and I visited a location in northern Virginia a couple of times and found the place crowded, but basically okay. The food was always good, anyway. And the food tonight was basically good, too. So why was I missing Germany all the more after we were finished? Because our experience at Outback Steakhouse was yet another reminder of just how plastique and rushed the experience of dining out in America can be, especially at chain restaurants.

On your mark…

We arrived for dinner at about 6:15pm. The Outback was jumping, with most tables occupied by ordinary folks out for a steak or a bloomin’ onion. The dining room was brightly lit and I could hear music over the din of the crowd. A hostess led Bill and me to a booth near the kitchen. We had barely been seated a minute when our server approached us and asked us what we wanted to drink. She chirped about the drink specials, let us know that happy hour was going on, and suggested her favorite drink– a Mai Tai– though she added that it would be charged at full price. I was in the mood for a beer and so was Bill. I got a Yuengling on draft, while Bill opted for a Foster’s Lager on draft.

Get set…

Our waitress was back in a flash with our drinks. She was pitching appetizers, but having dined at Outback before, we knew we’d never be able to eat an appetizer and an entree. I decided on a ribeye steak while Bill opted for a 9 ounce sirloin. Our meals came with two sides. I had a baked potato and a Caesar salad while Bill had garlic mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables. Our waitress brought us one of Outback’s trademark little pumpernickel loaves with whipped butter. Before I’d finished the first tiny slice of bread, a food runner was dropping off my Caesar salad, which had the distinct appearance of having been pre-made and chilled.

Go!

After I’d had a bite or two of my salad, our waitress came back and asked how the salad tasted. While still chewing on a leaf, I said it was fine.  We hadn’t finished half of the loaf of bread when the server dropped off another one for us, which we didn’t have the chance to touch. I managed to finish most of the salad just in the nick of time, for another food runner was back with our meals. Once again, our waitress asked how the food was when I was mid bite. A couple of bites later, the manager stopped by for an obligatory visit, asking us how everything was and letting us know we could call on her if we needed her. Thanks, boss.

Now… Outback meals, like so many other meals at American casual dining restaurants, are quite large. It takes time to eat them and not get indigestion. But apparently, nobody informed our waitress of that fact, since we were halfway through our dinner when she asked us about dessert! Bill and I knew we’d never be able to eat dessert, but even if I had been inclined to partake of a sweet ending, the waitress’s insistence on rushing us certainly killed the urge. She seemed to be in a big hurry to get rid of us, though she somehow managed to smile the whole time. She even smiled as she cleared Bill’s plate while I was still chewing and had about a third of my steak left. If that wasn’t a clue for me to hurry the hell up, I don’t know what was.

Lasting impression…

Our tab came to just under $45.  Our waitress had decorated it with a smiley face and a cutesy “Thank You” with the total circled. As she set the check down on the table, she mentioned a survey that Outback Steakhouse had going on. All we had to do was go online and fill out the survey and we’d get a free bloomin’ onion on our next visit. Now, although I’ve tried and enjoyed bloomin’ onions before, I’ve come to realize that they’re basically nothing but balls of fat, so I never order them. But I did want to fill out that survey, because I definitely had something to say.

The survey

Less than an hour after Bill and I had sat down to dinner, I was back in my hotel room booting up the computer.  I took Outback’s survey and suddenly saw the root of all the turnin’ and burnin’ that was going on at that restaurant tonight. The survey had questions like whether or not the server had suggested an alcoholic drink to go with our meals (what if we were teetotalers?), whether or not the manager had stopped by (what if we’d rather talk to each other than have a forced convo with the manager?), and if our server had suggested dessert (oh yeah, she definitely did… at an inopportune time). I left a detailed comment, acknowledging that I had once been a waitress myself and understood the concept of turning tables. I know that restaurants make a lot of money on alcohol. I understand that somehow corporate America thinks it’s important for the manager to stop by every table for an obligatory and forced greeting. But when I go out to dinner, I’d like to be able to taste my food and enjoy my meal without having to satisfy the corporate powers that be. Having another ten or fifteen minutes to enjoy my meal would have made a big difference in my overall experience. Moreover, I didn’t understand the need to rush. The restaurant wasn’t even full.

Why casual American chain restaurants make me miss Europe

One of the wonderful things about European dining is that servers get paid a living wage. So there’s no need to turn n’ burn and no pressure to GTFO as soon as the last bite is swallowed. Some folks might be sitting there reading this review, thinking we asked for it by going to a chain restaurant like Outback. Chain restaurants do exist in Europe, but servers there seem to understand that dining out is a luxury and people are paying for the pleasure of being able to have a nice meal without being rushed. And turning and burning goes on in nice American restaurants too. I know this because I worked in a fine dining establishment and was encouraged to get people in and out ASAP.

Another thing that turns me off of American chain restaurants– hell perhaps even a lot of Americans in general– is that there’s a lot of fake niceness. People asking how your meal is… people asking if they can do anything for you… all the while smiling and talking in a sing songy voice with an undercurrent of passive aggression. And it smacks of insincerity.  At least in Europe, most folks are honest about how they really feel, even if they sometimes come off as uncaring or even blatantly rude.  I would rather deal with someone who’s real about their feelings than someone who tries to snow me with BS.

Come on, corporate businesspeople, I know most of the servers/salespeople/managers don’t give a flying fig about how I’m really doing. They want to get me in and out; sell me a product and get me to part with my money; and hope I don’t return anything. Most of the time, I try to oblige them because I try to be a nice person and, having worked in retail and food service myself, I understand where they’re coming from. But tonight’s experience really pushed the limits of my tolerance.

It’s not just Outback

I had lunch at the Olive Garden today, yet another popular American chain restaurant. Actually, even though it was lunch time and I was dining alone, I had a much nicer experience there, though there was still a lot of fakeness. The food was good; I was visited by the manager but I wasn’t nearly as rushed and nobody tried to ply me with liquor. But it still smacked of corporate American malarkey…

Please forgive the rant from an American…

I guess my two years in Germany really spoiled me. Four months back in the States has me plotting to go back to Europe, if only for the excellent food and wine and the ability to actually taste my food before I shovel it down my gullet, even if I’m not in a fine dining establishment. No wonder there are so many heavy people in the US (myself included). We don’t even get the chance to digest anything before we’re being hustled out the door. Thankfully, I brought antacids with me for when the heartburn invariably kicks in.

To sum up…

I thought the food at Outback was fine, but the service and attitude of the staff needs some work. When I go out to eat, I don’t like to be herded in and out of the restaurant like cattle. I’m a person, dammit, spending precious disposable income on what amounts to a luxury.  Of course, having taken Outback’s online survey, I can see that just like sh!t, bad attitudes roll downhill and, unfortunately, ultimately rub off on the customer.

For more information: http://www.outback.com

Recommend this product? No

Kid Friendliness: Yes
Vegetarian Friendly: No
Notes, Tips or Menu Recommendations Steak
Best Suited For: Large Group

Here are the comments from that review.

Here are the comments from Epinions.  One comes from an Italian native who got a kick out of my rant.

Re: Re: Re: from an OB waitress
by tennis_player
Jenny,

“Good on you” for becoming truly sophisticated enough to enjoy the ways of Europe and fine dining in a leisurely manner!

I, too, waited tables as well as tended bar, janitored, hosted, cashiered and even cooked for about 15 years in my early life so I can well appreciate this whole thing about not being rushed from the customer’s side and the table turns from the management side – but there is no question that the European way is so much better.

There, everybody wins! And waiting tables is a noble profession!

Jim Feb 2, 2010
10:35 pm PST
Re: THAT was an excellent lunch!
by vicfar
Yes Bill, European life can begin to redeem even the worst sociopaths…look at me, I am on my way to redemption after only three years in Belgium. And it’s not the Campari with soda on the side. I think it’s the Westmalle beer and the divine chocolate…..Hell, I even stopped harassing the waitresses!

Vic
Feb 2, 2010
10:53 am PST
THAT was an excellent lunch!
by cuculuain
And, Jung be praised, it was blessed Synchronicity to see those fresh-faced, albeit ignorant, “Sons of Helamin” walking amongst us heathens! That was a fine bottle of wine from the Languedoc…a region well known to all us self-respecting Gnostics!

I did, of course, skip the “liver, fava beans and big Amarone!”. Not much of a sociopath I’m afraid… Feb 2, 2010
10:06 am PST
Re: Re: from an OB waitress (Delete your comment)
by knotheadusc
Vic,

We did visit France a few times… and… believe it or not, Bill liked it even more than I did. The sociopathic American soldier is a Francophile! Imagine that! I think it was the wine that did him in, coupled with foods that he loves and I don’t so much.

I think you would have gotten a kick out of watching him at a Parisian restaurant we found for lunch one day. I started with a glass of champagne and a smoked salmon appetizer. He ordered a bottle of lovely red wine from southern France to go with his chicken and mushroom dish. And while we were eating a couple of harried Mormon missionaries walked past our tableside window. Bill had to laugh because he was once a Mormon, though he was never a missionary… and he knew those poor young lads in France would never be able to enjoy a meal like the one we were having that day.

I think when we finished, I had a chocolate dessert, while he had some outstanding coffee and a plate of French cheeses…

Yeah, I’d say we sort of became European snobs! Feb 2, 2010
5:20 am PST
Re: from an OB waitress (Delete your comment)
by knotheadusc
Yep, that’s what I figured! I used to wait tables too, so I do understand the concept of getting people in and out. And now that I know for sure that’s Outback’s philosophy, I’ll be sure not to go there if I want to enjoy dinner. If I need to eat fast, then I might consider it… the way I’d consider any fast food restaurant. Or I’ll order takeout. Feb 2, 2010
5:13 am PST
Re: from an OB waitress
by vicfar
If I can intrude…honey, you are doing great. Most Americans are quite happy to fill their oversized belly in 45 minutes and get the hell out. They lead busy lives. Jenny has become a decadent European snob: after all those months in Germany (can you imagine if she’d been to France??), she is beginning to sound just like me 🙂

Vic Feb 2, 2010
3:21 am PST
from an OB waitress
by cmhsr
Hello! I am a waitress at an Outback Steakhouse and from the looks of it, your server was everything the company trained her to be! Haha. We are told to ALWAYS suggest an alcoholic beverage, recommend upsells (horseradish crumb topping? Like to add stuffed shrimp?), and to ask about dessert halfway through the meal.

Yes, halfway. I too thought that was ridiculous when they emphasized that during training. In fact, I still don’t ask about dessert until I see my tables are finished eating or close to it. I have learned through experience that, though it may slow my rotations, I get better tips if I allow people to eat at their own pace. And it also makes my job that much less frantic. But I digress.

About your waitress hovering, we are told to always check back immediately after each course goes out. The time frame is 2 bites to 2 minutes. So she definitely was on top of that! In fact, you’d be amazed at how precisely the dining experience at Outback is laid out. We have target times from everything from greeting customers to turning tables, and trust me, we are pressured from managers to always speed it up. Right now the average goal is 45 minutes. Feb 1, 2010
10:16 am PST
Re: Re: Re: This was a riot…. (Delete your comment)
by knotheadusc
;D is a smilie. My name is Jenny. 😉 Jan 25, 2010
7:19 am PST
Re: Re: This was a riot….
by vicfar
D(?),

if you had waited on me, you would have taken the Campari back to the bar with a smile, and then told the bartender about an as*hole European who’s going to get a Campari in his face if he does not cut it out!

My mission in the US was to teach American bartenders how to serve a Campari, and I must say I have failed after 25 years of efforts.

My mission in Belgium is to teach people how to be nice (and even smile). This isn’t any easier….

Cheers V. Jan 25, 2010
3:34 am PST
Re: I agree! (Delete your comment)
by knotheadusc
On the flip side, Bill and I have run into some European servers in America who were awesome… and very interesting. Not surprisingly, they worked in fine dining establishments. Jan 21, 2010
2:53 pm PST
I agree!
by tennis_player
You said it right and hit most of the right buttons!

One issue that I really appreciate about dining in Europe is – THE CUSTOMER/DINER IS THE ONE THAT DETERMINES WHEN THE MEAL IF FINISHED – NOT THE WAIT STAFF OR MANAGEMENT.

I hate the feeling of being rushed in order to get their table turns!

I have a slightly different take on the European wait staff. He is right about being able to joke around with American wait staff but I think the difference is the more casual aura in the U.S., where it is more formal in Europe so the kidding and having fun may be frowned upoon as being unprofessional.

I found that if we dined at an off hour and could engage the wait staff in fairly lengthy dialogue, they, too, could be quite interesting and less formal. We learned a lot about the local culture this way as they are quite proud and pleased to share information about their town, their family and local traditions.

Jim Jan 20, 2010
11:34 pm PST
Re: This was a riot…. (Delete your comment)
by knotheadusc
Vic, somehow I knew I’d hear from you on this issue. Don’t get me wrong. There are some wonderful restaurants in America, complete with excellent food AND free parking. But these damn chain corporate restaurants where everything is done on an assembly line are for the birds.

LOL… If I had waited on you in the USA, I may not have told you to stuff it in words, but you would have surely seen it in the expression on my face. I’m not very good at faking it in ANY situation… one of the many things my husband loves about me.

;D Jan 20, 2010
12:21 pm PST
This was a riot….
by vicfar
you do sound like a snobbish Schicke Deutsche Frau. Indeed, you sound like my German girlfriend when we eat in the US, except she does not possess your colorful vocabulary (not even in German)!

I agree with you, but see, with American waitresses you can have fun: you can correct the spelling on the menu, correct their pronunciation of the (foreign) dishes, which they always butcher, or send back your Campari three times because it’s not correctly prepared. They are good sports, and mostly afraid to argue with you, whereas Europeans tell you to stuff it. I know I am bad, and these people are only doing their job the way their stupid boss tells them to, but that’s me. At least I am having fun…

Indeed the experience where I miss the US the least is…DINING!

Where I miss the US the most is: PARKING!

I wish you plenty of happy parking experiences in Atlanta….:-)

Cheers

Vic

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BWI, Charleston, Dover, or Lackland?

I’m a little freaked out about the cold weather in the east.  And I have never been out west, really… unless you could the trip to Washington State we took in 2005.  It would be fun to go to California and it would be fun to go to Hawaii.  I could probably pack lighter, too.  

On the other hand, I like Europe better than the United States.  Later today, I’m hoping we’ll have more of an idea of where we should go to start our adventure.  Hopefully plane tickets won’t be too outrageously expensive if we end up not flying out of Lackland.

A friend of mine suggests we try to get to Dover Air Force Base, since we’d end up on a C17.  Those planes are pretty bare bones, but they are a lot more comfortable than regular planes are.  Instead of being stuffed in a row of seats, you get to sit along the side and once the plane is in the air, you can lie on the floor if you want to.  Better yet, those planes are usually staffed by hot young airmen.

These are photos from our last hop in May 2012.  The last photo was taken in Gander, Newfoundland, Canada, where we stopped to refuel.

It was pretty frigid there, even though it was late May.  My parents lived in Newfoundland in the early 60s.  One of my sisters was born there.  My mom used to tell me stories of people driving their cars across frozen bodies of water.

As luck would have it, I bought a knife from Williams-Sonoma in early December and it’s just now being sent to me.  It will get here after we’re gone.  With any luck, no one will steal it.

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Camp Bow Wow…

ETA: I no longer recommend Camp Bow Wow.

Zane and Arran had their “test” at Camp Bow Wow in San Antonio yesterday.  This test involves a three hour trial, where staffers determine whether or not the dog will be suitable for “camp”.  Indeed, the dogs are referred to as “campers” and come home with a little certificate that shows they passed the test.  Zane and Arran are pretty easygoing dogs and they’ve been boarded a few times.  They did fine at Camp Bow Wow and are all set to stay there while we attempt our hop.

Hopefully, we’ll have good luck and get to go somewhere interesting.  But when Bill and I travel, interesting things usually happen.  The last time we took a hop, we ran into a flash mob in Luxembourg, as well as a high school band from Munich.  A drunk man was trying hard to “conduct” as the band played in the gazebo in Luxembourg City.  The funny thing is, we went to Luxembourg in 2009 and never expected to ever go back there.  We went back in 2012 just by chance.

We also went to Salzburg, Austria and got caught in the rain… and delighted a local restaurant owner when we stopped in for lunch and came back later to get out of the rain.  We passed the time by drinking lots of Austrian beer.

Anyway, I do feel better about leaving the dogs now.  When we lived in North Carolina, we had a great place for the dogs and I knew they took great care of them.  I think Camp Bow Wow, while a touch on the corporate side, has good folks working there.  The dogs obviously had a blast there yesterday and were pretty much knocked out for the night.

Knowing they are taken care of makes it easier to have a good time on our trip.

I still don’t know where we’ll go.  I have a feeling we’ll start our trip in Germany, though it’s still possible we’ll go to the Azores at least for a couple of days.  I’d be delighted if we ended up in Spain or Italy… though I am still a little Italy-ed out.  Half the fun and excitement of this upcoming trip is the prospect of where we might go.  For all I know, we could end up going to the West Coast or even Hawaii.

Here’s a word on Space A…  A couple of years ago, I joined Dirk Pepperd’s Web site for Space A.  It was free until very recently, when Pepperd moved his site to a new location.  Free memberships are still possible, though for either $29.95 or $39.95 for a year, you can get enhanced access to the site and you can use it as often as you need or want to.  If you have a free membership, you don’t get full access and are limited to a certain time limit per month.  I got a premium subscription because I think the site is worth it.  It’s full of very useful information and time and money saving tips.  Of course, it’s only for people who can use Space A travel.

Anyway, as the time draws nearer, I will post more… hard to believe I could be recovering from jet lag in a week.  Here’s hoping something interesting happens.

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A day in Copenhagen…

Back in the summer of 2009, Bill and I took our very first cruise on Royal Caribbean’s Vision of the Seas.  It was a four night cruise.  We were “getting our feet wet”, as it were.  Neither of us had ever cruised before and it was an economical way to see parts of Scandinavia.

One of the ports we visited was Copenhagen.  I had been curious about Denmark, even though that’s where Bill and his ex wife got married and the start of so many of the problems from which we have spent ten years recovering.  Granted, if they hadn’t married, I’d probably be a single woman… or married to some guy I don’t like as much.  But maybe I’m just being cynical.  Surely there are other guys out there who could tolerate life with me.

Anyway, we enjoyed our June day in Copenhagen, wandering around the city.  We even got caught in a rainstorm…

 

A still shot

Colorful bum…

Downtown Copenhagen

One of many lunch options…

7-11s are all over Scandinavia and they seem to enjoy selling pornographic looking hot dogs…

Signs in Denmark…

This was a massive outdoor exhibit…

 Some were pretty clever…

They loved George W. Bush…

Explanation please!

 

This wino could have been a street performer…

We had lunch here…


The inside of this place was really cool… murals and paintings all over the walls and only one other American there for lunch besides us…


The door to a beautiful church…

 

We really only got a taste of Copenhagen during our day there.  I would love to go back sometime and really experience Denmark.  Something tells me I’d love it there.  But then, I feel very much at home in most parts of Europe.  I could spend many years there and be happy as a clam.  It was cold when we visited in early June.  Bill had to buy a jacket.  I bet it’s beautiful in July and August.

 
 
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Beautiful places…

Just made these videos today….

The photos are mostly of Europe, though some spots in the Caribbean and United States are also thrown in for good measure.  The music is “The Water Is Wide” by The O’Neill Brothers and “How Great Thou Art” by Amy Grant and Vince Gill.  Enjoy!

And Scotland…

And more beautiful places…

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We’re within two months!

Two months from today, Bill and I will be wandering around Venice.  I hope the cultural high will be enough to sustain my energy that day because we’ll be getting there in the morning, several hours before check in time.  I should be alright if I have a nice espresso or something.

I’m really looking forward to this trip.  I’ve been wanting to go to Venice with Bill for a long time now, even though it’s a touristy city.  There’s no denying that it’s beautiful and unique and I suspect Bill and I will have a blast, even though we’ll only be there for a night.  Of course, I just found out that you can buy public restroom passes.  That ought to be interesting.  Like just about everywhere else in Europe, you have to pay to use the toilets.  It looks like Venice has quite a markup, too.  The public potty appears to be twice as expensive as other places in Europe.

All we really need to do now is figure out the transportation between Venice and Florence, Florence, and Rome, and Rome and Civitivecchia.  And then, from Pireaus and Athens.  Unlike the last time I went to Venice and Florence, all of this stuff can now be taken care of online before we get there.

I can think of other places in Europe I want to visit just as much as Venice and Athens and all the places we’re planning to see in between, but there are only so many days we can be gone.  And I have no idea when we’ll have the chance to do this again, so I intend to enjoy every minute.  I’m still fondly remembering Scotland, too… and wishing we could go back there, too!

Hopefully this time, our dogs will be okay and there won’t be any frantic emails from the pet resort.  And there won’t be any obnoxious people holding court throughout the cruise…  and I won’t get seasick.

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adventure, memories

One last "month on a train" post…

I wish I’d been blogging when I took my train trip to Europe.  It really was a great experience and I feel like fifteen years later, it’s hard to do it justice.  I also didn’t have a digital camera back then– no one did, really.  So all my photos are printed and my scanner is all jacked up.  My iPhone is full of photos of the dogs, so I can’t really take pictures of the pictures..  I also have a tendency not to be frugal with taking pictures and often end up taking the same photo several times, then not deleting them.  In the course of fifteen years, some of my photos got misplaced.

Still, when I think back on that trip, it was kind of remarkable.  I was so fortunate to be able to do the trip… to take a month out of my life and just go where the wind took me.  Everyone should be able to take a month to just wander and if you’re able to do it in Europe, so much the better.  I have a feeling that trip was a once in a lifetime thing, but I think it would be great fun to do it again sometime… especially if I can take my husband with me.

The year prior to my train trip, a Peace Corps friend and I spent three weeks traveling through Turkey and Bulgaria.  We went by bus from Armenia, which involved a long stop at the hellish border with Turkey and Georgia.  That trip was far less comfortable than my trip through Europe was… It involved a lot of riding on rickety buses, sleeping on floors, and eating street food.  Maybe that should be my next topic.

I wish Americans had more chances to travel.  I wish they had more inclination to go places, try new things, and get out of their comfort zones every once in awhile.  Granted, I pretty much live as a shut in, owing to my status as an Overeducated Housewife.  But I always have a desire to go places and see new things– not so much in the United States, though there are places in this country I’d like to see.  What I’d really like to do is travel around the world… as long as I can do it with someone I love and with whom I am very compatible.  I would imagine that would be my husband, Bill.

Not that there isn’t something to be said for traveling alone…  When you travel alone, you can end up meeting interesting people.  But when you travel with someone you love, you end up with more courage to do incredible things… Like hike up to the top of a castle and see the view below…

The view from Hohenzollern Castle in Germany

 

About four years ago, my husband drove that point home to me when we were sitting in a beer spa in the Czech Republic.  We had been soaking in pewter tubs full of beer while sipping beer from a glass.  My husband looked at me with love in his eyes and said, “You know, I would never be able to do this if I hadn’t met you.”

I count that moment as one of the best bonding moments of our ten year marriage.  I hope we can have many more.

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adventure

A month on a train in Europe… coming home

I had a quick flight from Paris to Amsterdam, then got a flight to Dulles on Northwest Airlines.  I sat next to a quiet Dutch woman and watched reruns of Friends as the plane carried me back to the United States after over two years away.  When we landed and I got through customs, I saw my dad standing there.  I was surprised to see him and was actually kind of upset that he was there, since I had told my parents that I needed to go to Becky’s apartment to get the stuff I shipped and give her back her key.

Also waiting for me was my friend Chris, whom I met in college when we were both 18.  He had come just to welcome me back and I had been planning to get a bus to my sister’s place.  I told my dad I wasn’t expecting him and he said, “Well, I’m here and you can either come with me now or get a bus.”  He was being kind of mean, especially for not having seen me for two years.  And it was pretty embarrassing, since Chris was there, but Chris knew about my dad…

So anyway, we got in the car.  I was pretty annoyed.  He drove me to Becky’s place and I got my stuff. Then my dad gave her key to her neighbor, who had just moved in.  I felt dread, since I had a feeling Becky would go nuts because we’d had this sudden change of plans.

Dad started driving and it was actually pretty scary, since he was speeding and being kind of reckless.  But then he told me that the next day, he planned to go into inpatient rehab for his alcoholism.  That was a huge load off my mind, actually, because I knew I would have to live with my parents for awhile and my dad and I don’t get along very well.  The drive home was awkward and I was feeling like I had just been plunged into a big crisis.

My mom had fixed a nice meal for me… comfort food, really.  There was chicken, mashed potatoes, and vegetables.  She poured some wine, hesitating before giving any to my dad.  My dad said, “How would you feel if you knew that after tomorrow, you couldn’t have another drink for the rest of your life?”

Mom gave him the wine.  Of course, it turned out that rehab was not a barrier to his future drinking.  He still drinks today.  The difference is, now he has dementia and my mom doles it out to him in very small amounts.  She gives him non-alcoholic beer and he doesn’t seem to know the difference.

Anyway, Mom later told me what had led up to this crisis that kind of ruined my homecoming.  A few weeks before I came home, my dad had gotten very drunk on vodka.  He then decided he wanted to take a bath.  My parents had a jacuzzi tub installed when they renovated their house.  Dad was filling it and had sat down on the toilet.  He was naked, save for his glasses, which were knocked askew when he passed out.

My mom noticed the water was running when she went to bed, but apparently thought nothing of it.  When she woke up later and still heard it running, she went to investigate and discovered my dad, passed out naked, wearing his glasses askew, sitting on the toilet.  The tub was overflowing and the water had seeped through the floor and into the ceiling over the laundry room.  The water caused the ceiling to bow a bit.

Mom then told my dad that he had to go to rehab or else he had to leave.  So he arranged to go to rehab through the Veteran’s Administration in Portsmouth, Virginia.  He was supposed to be there for four weeks, but ended up staying for six.  I want to say it was because they were backed up with cases.  I was happy he wasn’t home.

Mom later told me that my dad had been doing things like mistaking the small wooden chest by the toilet for the commode.  He’d pee in the chest and my mom would have to clean it up.  She said it would be one thing if he had cancer or something, but his issues were caused by drinking himself into mental oblivion.

While I was overseas, my dad had gone through my very extensive  CD collection and got them all out of order and lost a couple of my classical discs.  Then when I mentioned it, he got all pissed at me and accused me of being selfish.

Apparently, rehab was like a fun camp for him.  He was a white, middle class guy amid a lot of young fellows who had hit skid row or were using street drugs.  I think he thought he was above them.  But the rehab didn’t stick and he ended up going through it again on an outpatient basis.  That one didn’t work, either.  My mom obviously loves my dad.  She’s been married to him for 55 years and has put up with a lot.  God bless her.  I don’t think I could do it myself.  It was bad enough being his daughter sometimes.

Under the circumstances, I probably shouldn’t drink.  But when I drink, I don’t turn into a flaming asshole like my dad does… at least not most of the time.  I do love my dad, but I often don’t like him very much.  Yesterday was his 80th birthday.  He seems to have inherited his mother’s iron constitution.  She died in 2007 at six weeks shy of 101.  I don’t think my dad will last that long, but he’s obviously got a very strong body, even if his mind is pickled.

I had a good time in Europe and for the next ten years, I pined to go back there.  It was amazing to go back again in 2007 to live…  Perhaps my next post will be about that, rather than my depressing family of origin.

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adventure, anecdotes

A month on a train in Europe… Tours, Amboise, and Paris

The last part of my month in Europe was in France.  Becky had her heart set on visiting the Loire Valley, which is where there is a beautiful chateau and wines aplenty.  Though I had been to Nice at that point, there’s a big difference between the South of France and the Loire Valley.  We stopped in Tours, exhausted from all the travel, and got a room at a chain hotel.  I want to say it was a Holiday Inn or something similar.  Becky was horrified and disgusted because chain hotels don’t have charm.  She wanted to look for a place further in town that might be more French. But I was fucking exhausted from two days of intense travel and needed to sleep before I tore her head off.

I didn’t actually get to see much of Tours, but I do remember going into a music store there and seeing a wall of CDs with no cassettes available.  James Taylor had come out with his album, Hourglass, which I had heard a couple of songs on while listening to VOA Europe in Armenia.  I bought the CD, but couldn’t listen to it until I got home.  I remember being really bummed out about that because I love JT’s music and needed something to soothe me.

Tours, France Courtesy of Wikipedia: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Loire_Indre_Tours1_tango7174.jpg) 

After one night in Tours, we moved on to Amboise, which turned out to be a really beautiful place that looked kind of like it came from a fairytale.  We found a pleasant three star hotel and checked in, then visited the local chateau, which looked like it was the biggest show in town.  It was actually pretty nice– and there was good shopping, though I don’t remember having much money for shopping.  I did buy a couple of bottles of L’Occitane perfume.  That was pretty dumb, since that’s an international brand, but what did I know?

I also remember the food.  One place we went to gave us terrible service.  The woman who waited on us seemed hostile.  Becky drew a frowny face on our check and wrote “Tres mal” on the receipt.  Childish, I know, but it was kind of funny.  The waitress was a sourpuss and that was before I’d had the experience of waiting tables myself.  I wouldn’t do that today.

We went to another place that had the most delightful croissants…  It was amazing.  Other than that, I remember drinking a lot of wine and doing a lot of walking… and taking some really lame photos.

Amboise was pretty, but it was time to move on to Paris.  I remember pulling into the main train station and seeing the vast city from the tracks.  This was to be my last stop before I boarded a jet to Amsterdam and then one that would take me to depressing Dulles airport.

Chateau in Amboise Courtesy of Wikipedia: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Ambuaz_IMG_1760.JPG)

Paris in September 1997 was lovely, even though just weeks before, Princess Diana had died there.  Becky and I checked into a cute little hotel near Rue Cler and wandered along the Parisian streets.  I remember going to the Eiffel Tower, which was teeming with people.  We opted not to go to the top.  Incidentally, I went back to Paris in May 2009 with my husband and we made the same decision when we encountered the crowds.  Maybe if we ever get back to Paris, we’ll finally do it.

Eiffel Tower taken in May 2009

We never did make it to the Louvre, which kind of surprises me, given Becky’s love of art.  And when I went back in May 2009, we skipped it again.

I do remember Becky trying to talk some American woman and her daughter into sharing a cab with us… she wanted to save money and we were having trouble navigating the Paris metro.  I was kind of embarrassed by her boldness.  Then later, we went out to dinner and ended up sitting next to a Canadian woman who was very loudly and obnoxiously talking about her accomplishments.  I remember Becky saying in a very annoyed voice, “That was disgusting!” about the Canadian woman’s very public preening.

I, of course, was getting really tired of traveling with Becky.  I started making plans as to how I’d be getting home.  Becky had picked up a suitcase for me that I had shipped from Armenia.  It was in her apartment near Washington, DC.  We were going back to the US on different flights, so Becky said she’d give me her key and I could wait for her.  I figured that was the safest thing to do.

I called my parents to advise them of my plans.  My mom was in a foul mood when I told her I needed to stay in DC one extra night so I could give Becky her key.  Mom told me that was too much trouble for her and my dad.  I had no idea what was going on at home… or that I would be landing in the middle of a crisis.  I just knew my mom was being really bitchy to me, even though she hadn’t seen me in two years and I was coming home having triumphantly finished a two year Peace Corps assignment.

I ended up helping to pay for the last night at the hotel in Paris, but was nervous about the early flight and eager to get away from Becky.  So I took the bus to the airport and planned to sit up at Charles De Gaulle airport’s very uncomfortable benches.  I sat there for about twenty minutes, then remembered that at that time, CDG had a “Cocoon”.  Basically, it was a soundproof motel that wasn’t actually considered a motel… as guests were only allowed to book the room for sixteen hours or less.  The Cocoon had a bed, a clock radio, a TV, and a tiny bathroom with a shower.  It was very plain, but it was heavenly, because it was my room.  I slept like a dead person until about 5:00am and then got my early flight to Amsterdam.

The Cocoon is now closed, unfortunately.  I’m glad I had a chance to stay there, though… It was a blessing to have a safe, cheap place to spend the night before my early flight.  Charles De Gaulle airport is one of my least favorite airports and it was awesome to be able to get some rest before going home.  I was definitely going to need it.

Next… the flight home and family crisis.

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Uncategorized

A month on a train in Europe… Spain

Dawn, Chris, and I marveled as we watched the insanely beautiful Spanish countryside fly by.  We had stopped briefly in Port Bou, France, because the train tracks in Spain are different than they are in France and we had to change trains.  A gaggle of American sorority girls were on our train, making me feel both old and slightly irritated.

I remember sitting in my second class seat and looking at the stunning landscape.  A Spanish native said “Welcome to Espana” with a proud smile on his face.

It was bright and sunny as we passed Girona and its cathedral on our way south.  We finally landed in Barcelona in the early evening.  We had been traveling all day and we were tired… and somehow, we ended up at a dirt cheap hostel a few blocks from Barcelona’s train station.  The room was dark, small, and had a window that literally opened into the elevator shaft.  But for three poverty stricken travelers, it would work.

Dawn, Chris and I walked around downtown Barcelona, strolling on Las Ramblas and meeting up with Chris’s friend, Javier, who lived in Barcelona.  I remember getting into his tiny compact car and going on a tour of the city, which highlighted the Olympic stadium.  I also remember eating paella for the first time and discovering bocadillos at Pan and Company, a Barcelona area healthy fast food chain.  We visited the cathedral and stood outside La Sagrada Familia, because we were too poor to pay the admission to go inside.

In 2009, my husband and I went back to Barcelona and stayed in a very nice hotel in Montjuic, which is an area on hill that overlooks the city.  Our 2009 trip was sort of a dream come true, since I had shown my husband my picture of La Sagrada Familia several years prior and he didn’t know what it was.  When I told him about it, he wanted to go there… and we managed to do that, courtesy of a “blind booking” on Germanwings, a discount airline in Germany that lets people book mystery flights (lots of fun– we’ve done it three times so far).

Taken in April 2009.  My husband cried when we went inside because he was overwhelmed by how cool it is…

 

After a couple of days in Barcelona, Dawn, Chris, and I went to Madrid, where I would be meeting my older sister.  We booked a stay in a comfortable hotel suggested by Rick Steves.  I got a single room and Dawn and Chris stayed in a double.  I remember going to the airport to pick up my sister, Becky, and then after lunch, Dawn, Chris, and I parted ways.  They were headed to see another one of Chris’s friends up north and then take Dawn to Salamanca.  My sister and I, on the other hand, planned to head south to Seville.

But first we spent a few nights in Madrid…  I remember on the first night, U2 was playing and I could hear their concert in my hotel room.  It was right around the time they had released Pop, an album I don’t own but should probably buy because I heard their concert in my Madrid hotel room.

La Plaza Mayor in Madrid

Courtesy of Wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Plaza_Mayor_de_Madrid_06.jpg)

In retrospect, it probably wasn’t that smart to travel with Becky.  She’s a high maintenance person and immediately objected to the cheap places I had gotten used to staying at.  But we got along okay at first… I was excited about going to Seville, which I had heard was amazing.  We went to the Prado, which Becky insisted on because she’s an artist.  I don’t think we got to see much of it, though, because we had a train to catch.  We had book a bullet train to Seville, cutting down the travel time to something manageable.

When we got to Seville, we managed to find a small bed and breakfast in the maze-like old town, Santa Cruz (Jewish Quarter).  We saw a flamenco show, saw Seville’s massive cathedral, and took a carriage ride around the Plaza de Espana… and I remember it was about this time that Becky and I started to bicker.  She objected to the frantic pace I had been keeping and my cheapness.  And she also didn’t seem to like Spain that much, because people eat later at night.  My sister was an ugly American to the extreme and said Spain was like a third world country.  Having just come from Armenia, where 24 hour power still wasn’t guaranteed, I thought that was a pretty foolish remark.

Plaza de Espana

Courtesy of Wikipedia: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Plaza_de_España_-_Sevilla.jpeg)

Anyway, between stories about her love life and complaints about how dirty Spain was, I was quickly realizing I was better off traveling alone.

Becky and I went to Cadiz, Spain next.  Cadiz is in the extreme southern part of Spain, on the Mediterranean coast.  It was in Cadiz that we stayed in very poor accommodations.  I remember it being a simple room with crucifixes on the walls.  After a day strolling around the very hot city and taking a swim at the beach, we went to an Irish pub, where I proceeded to drink five Irish coffees.  I was up all night because there was a loud party going on in the building next to ours.

Cadiz Cathedral

Courtesy of Wikipedia

Though it was very cool to be so close to Morocco, we got up early the next day for a train heading to France…  Becky’s patience with Spain was wearing dangerously thin…  and my patience with Becky was also becoming pretty short.

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