The best Mexican food in Europe

After years of searching and seeking and finally coming to the conclusion that finding good Mexican food in Europe would be the equivalent of finding the holy grail, I am happy to say that we've finally found fantastic Mexican food--and it only took four years to find.

"Good Mexican food" is a subjective term. For me, good Mexican food reminds me of living in California, of tiny taquerias where no English was spoken and the food was spicy hot, homemade, and good, served by a nice, older woman who always remembered your favorite thing each time. It was the type of food you would eat before going out for a night of drinking as it would set the base to keep you ok all night, or the type of food you'd eat the morning after a long night of drinking, to bring you back into the world. It was comfort food extraordinaire, heavy and filling.

I have suffered too many bad Mexican food experiences in Europe to even list. The worst ones were probably in Germany, where there was no spiciness to the food and the nacho chips had a powered salty spice on them. (shudder)

So where is this lovely hole in the wall I'm sending you to? It's The Taco Shop in Copenhagen, Denmark. Yes, Denmark of all places. It's not as cheap as the taqs in CA (especially if you were to factor in the round trip flight from DE just for lunch!), but it is less expensive food by Denmark standards. For example, that's the number 16 nachos in the back of the photo, that plate was just over 5 euros. Also it is extremely filling food. We went for lunch and it was literally the only food I ate for the entire day.

We went to the one on Nr. Farimagsgade 57. It is very close to Israel Square (Israels Plads), so perhaps a 20 min walk from the Central Station. They speak very good English, and there are menus taped to the counter in other languages, including English. I would compare it in style to an imbiss in Germany, just a tiny little place where you order at the counter and can eat sitting on stools while looking out the window at the neighborhood people passing by. They do not do margaritas, or anything else alcoholic, but that could be a calculated move, to keep the customers eating and then moving on rather than sitting with drinks for a longer time. Oh, and if you go? Bring me an order of take away please.

the evil eye

Growing up as a product of the Philadelphia Catholic school system from ages 5 to 22, I learned early about the power of the evil eye. It started with Sister Roberta Ann in the first grade. She was 4'11" perhaps which meant she still towered among us first graders, although she was of a hearty rather than petite nature, a true Philadelphia Italian. She could have backhanded unruly children to the moon if desired and she would occasionally whack the wooden pointer on the wooden desk when excitement overtook the room, such as during a sudden snowfall or during the handing out of Halloween candy.

However, that was rarely needed as she had the evil eye. Nuns who were teachers had this perfected. In those days, classrooms had 40-50 children, so it was a necessary skill. (My how things have changed as I have been reading about requirements for small classes of no more than 20 in public school teacher contracts.) However, at that time, Sr Roberta would have the roaming or roving eyes, all day long in the classroom, out at recess, and everywhere in between.

The roving eye was like a gentle ocean wave. If all was going well and you were behaving, the eye roamed over you and on to the next child. God help the one who was not honoring the holy family with his behavior, however. Sister's eyes would alight on him, and it was almost like she could read his naughty thoughts in a bubble over his head. The evil eye was strong enough to melt glass or even steel.

If Johnnie had his hand poised to pull Susie's braid, he would suddenly feel the evil eye from across the room resting upon him. If he was smart he would re-direct immediately his efforts and the raised hand would instead tap Susie on the should to ask if he could borrow her eraser. The evil eye, pleased that a sin was averted, would return to its watch.

The evil eye was always watchful and ever vigilant. That is the only way that a nun could keep control of so many energetic children. I never recall hearing a nun yell. Why should they, no reason to if the evil eye was functioning properly.

Why am I telling you all this? Fast forward 20 some years from first grade in Phillyland and I am now in Germany. Yesterday was 'put out big items or whatever you want and we'll take them away for free' day on my street. Since getting rid of anything bigger than a used tea bag requires so much effort here, you can imagine how much stuff is stacked immediately in front of the house for the garbagemen.

In Germany, many people live for such days, as this culture has no problem with trashpicking and it's almost like Christmas, free gifts on every street! In the US trashpicking tends to be done quickly and under the cover of darkness, whereas here there is no stigma attached. Take your time and dig through the pile of items. They very carefully and neatly stack things up again when finished, at least as nice if not nicer than before. They may even put something in front of the pile that is nice, but not needed by them. I personally have no problems with what they do, recycling something is better than having it end up in the landfill.

Yesterday two children, perhaps 5 and 8 were picking through the pile in front of my apartment. Standing on my balconey, I could see them, but they didn't notice me. Everything is fine and good, until they started to pick things out of the pile, breaking the things, and then throwing them onto the street. I live on a tiny street that ends in the apartment driveway, so it's little used, but still people must drive on it. Nor is there reason to break something that someone could perhaps find in the pile and use.

I watched two or three throws each, and I must have out of reflex turned on the evil eye, in particular on the 8 year old who is certainly old enough to know better. He feels it and turns to see me watching him. He immediately drops his hands to his sides and drops what he was about to throw onto the trash pile. The little girl, however, chose to throw something a split second later. He starts to shout at her in that typical German way, loud shouting. She looks at him surprised at the sudden change. He then must have said more quietly that I was up there, as she turns and looks, like a deer in the headlights.

I now had the evil eye trained on both of them. He shouts at her, quick, we need to clean up the mess and the two of them scurry around the road picking up what they had thrown and putting it into a nearby trash can. They then hightailed it to their bicycles to hurry away.
The evil eye, I haven't forgotten it, and apparently I have the international version of it.

Final note: while I was writing this, I wondered what Sister Roberta was up to and if she was still teaching, as I do have nothing but fond memories of the first grade with her. A few years after I completed first grade, the sisters were called to a different school that needed them more, and we instead had non-religious vocation (Lay) teachers and lost track of 'our' nuns. However, through the power of google, I see Sister is still alive and well and serving religion. Click here and scroll down to see her.

there's no such thing as a free lunch...

unless you are heather in europe and it's a Monday in July in Copenhagen. As you may recall, I left almost three weeks ago for Bergen, Norway. I traveled from Koeln Deutz and took the train to Duesseldorf airport. It's actually very quick when you get the fast regional bahn, only 33 min. I was to leave from DUS to Copenhagen with a one hour layover and then a flight to Bergen.


I usually like to bring along some snacks to the airport, in particular fresh veg and fruit, but leaving early Monday morning carrying the tent and all would have meant that I'd be carrying for a few hours a salad purchased on Saturday afternoon, so I had visions of wiltiness squared. Plan B, Copenhagen Airport has nice (albeit overpriced airport) snack bars, called something like 'To Go' with fresh food including little salads, sandwiches, cookies, water, juice, etc. With an hour that would be enough time to pick something up to take aboard and eat en route especially as it's one of those 'meals/snacks for sale' flights.


Until the plane left late that is. We're all just sitting there during the boarding time and then leaving time with no announcement given. Correction, I'm just sitting there reading the free Times Herald, my Germanic brethren are sighing loudly and looking at their watches. We finally leave 25 minutes late, so my one hour layover was whittled down to getting off the plane and looking at the board where it said 'go to gate' and then getting there and seeing everyone already lined up and ready to board.



I was a tad disappointed to not get lunch, although it was my own damn fault for not bringing something. As you may remember, I don't do breakfast, except for coffee. I don't like food in the morning, and I never have. At one point I was dating a German and my lack of breakfast sincerely offended his delicate sensibilities. Although I was as equally appalled by him eating Kinderschokolade in the morning and trying to pass that off as healthy. That was the moment the door loudly slammed shut on the German dating scene for me. I don't mind if you like to have breakfast, and I'm even willing to compromise with a Sunday brunch at 11 and call it lunch.


But I digress. As I'm walking up, they are apparently repeating again a call for volunteers to forgo this flight and take the same one, just an hour and 45 min later. I had already seen the weather for Bergen and it was a 90% chance of rain, and rain covered most of the Nordics. I was already pondering what to do with the afternoon as I was staying in a hostel rather than a fancy hotel with say, my own TV and American channels, where I could whittle the day away.

And what does one get for one's inconvenience of sitting in grey CPN an extra almost two hours? A voucher for 150 EUR for a future SAS flight that can instead by cashed out for 75 EUR cash if I want, an upgrade to business class on the next flight (don't get excited, it's low budget business class), and a free lunch in the airport with a 150 DKK voucher (roughly 20 euros). Wine me and dine me.

I could have lived like a queen at the 'To Go' snack bar, but I went upscale for Italian at Gino's Pasta. It was like the Price is Right, I want to go 'as close as I can to the 150 without going over'. I had a nice little vegetarian pasta with artichokes, a side salad with pine nuts and a bottle of water for 142 DKK and it was a nice way to spend the extra hour.

am back

but with nothing to say. maybe later in the week.

Observations on my European vacation style

Since I transferred last year from being an expat to being a local, I picked up the German vacation allowance at our firm of 30 days, although last year was prorated down to 25.5 since I transferred in April. This year I came to the table with the full 30.

As as American who is used to between 13 and max 21 (and only because I vacation bought a week--the full given allowance was 14), to go away for anything more than 4 or 5 days was a serious adjustment. Last year, going to Iceland for almost 2 weeks cause me to get a bit stressed at the little details of the mail piling up and being out of the office for so long. Then I went to Lithuania for 10 days later and I still broke into a cold sweat, but not as bad.

This year I'm better into the proper mentality of things. I leave on Monday for Bergen, after enjoying CSD this weekend in Koeln. While I was on the American vacation mentality, to leave on a Monday would be wasteful--it was leaving the two weekend days on the table, when they could be spent somewhere.

I've also shifted gears a bit, and started the whole camping thing, something I didn't do in the US. When you're only going away for four nights, you can take a hotel, hostel, or Holiday Inn and it really won't dent your budget. Going away for 14 seriously tests that theory. My balance has been to spend my travel money on the transport so that I can go away to where I truly want to go, in this upcoming case it will be Bergen and the Faroe Islands. I bought a functional tent and sleeping bag that paid for itself during Iceland, and then upgraded for this trip as the conditions will be worse, although this one also pays for itself after two days of skipping a hotel.

For eating, I try to make a mix of things. Being vegetarian, I am perfectly happy to go to a local supermarket while on holiday and pick up a salad for lunch. In Holland recently, I found a bio/alternative outdoor market and bought bread, goat's cheese and a spicy salsa to balance things out and was delighted to eat it on a bench watching the Saturday shoppers on their way. So for lunch I tend to do something price wise equivalent to what I would do here in my daily Germany life.

I don't do breakfast, but I pick up a coffee somewhere. For dinner, I allow myself the freedom to go out if I see something that interests me. Alternately, if I find something local that the locals are doing, such as a Chinese place that they all go to for the lunch plate special, then I swap my dinner and lunch plans and do that.

Where I will not scrimp is my daily coffee and a drink at a bar if the mood so strikes me. I like to find a place to have my coffee, to ease into my day, and to do the map/tour planning so that I am set to go. I find I take a general decision in the previous night of what I want to do, but for the places I go where the weather is so unpredictable, I cannot make the final decision until morning, as well as I may wake up early or late and can then plan the final bus/train logistics and such.

As a solo traveller, I have had many interesting conversations when visiting a local bar; where I have learned much about the culture. Or while camping that often means going to the local supermarket and picking up a few beers and parking oneself at a communal picnic table where others of a like-minded nature will also meet to look at maps, write postcards, read, eat, and drink for a few hours after having been on foot for most of the day.

So the bag is now packed and ready to go, I'm off to Koeln to enjoy the parade and then perhaps a relaxing rest at the river since this is the first day in a long time that I have woken up and it's sunny. Today is supposed to be the only rain-free one for the next 10 days, so I plan to be outside to enjoy it to its fullest.

After today I hope to be enjoying the travels and not inside in front of a computer, unless the rain dumps down and chases me inside. Have a nice two weeks, I fly back late on Sunday Jul 22, and if all goes well, I won't be online before then, so try not to miss me too much. ;-)

the desk is packed

Since I came to Germany in 2003, this is the 4th time we've moved offices; I'm quite good at it. It's a lovely way to keep the clutter down, when you have to put all your office files and supplies in a company supplied box so that the movers will pick up your box at the appointed time and drop it at your new desk.

I've never moved in a US office, so not sure how it compares, but here it is actually very efficient (except for the part that it occurs during work hours so one loses a half or full work day--the movers are works council protected, you know, so they don't work weekends.)

Moves are arranged by the office so that multiple groups are going on the same day, I guess to fill the truck and keep the workers busy for a full day. In advance they deliver the cardboard boxes. Then, a packet of colored stickers. Each area moving has a different color and and the stickers have two boxes where you must write a letter/number combo that signifies the zone and desk area where the item should go. All things must go into a box, and the box gets a sticker.

Anything too big for a box--as long as you put a sticker on something, it goes with. Our plastic recycle bins get stickers. The coat rack, the potted plant, be sure to put on a sticker. Last time we were purple. For a few weeks, we were still peeling off purple stickers here and there.

Thankfully they move while I'm on holiday so it should be all re-assembled by the time I return, and sans stickers.

busy week - packing the desk

our office is moving to a different site, 10 min away by car. it's a satellite space, so no cafeteria there, so lunches will need to be packed or bought from the outside.

good incentive to pack something healthy, as to eat otherwise will require a trip outside the building where it's always raining each day, and that sounds like too much effort.

Cologne Pride 2007 is coming up this weekend

A reminder, Cologne Pride, or Christopher Street Day is upcoming in Cologne this weekend, with events having started last weekend, and the street fest over the weekend and the parade on Sunday July 8 at noon.

If you've only been to a US based Pride event, you must see a Europe one at some point. In particular I'd recommend the Germany ones if you live in Germany for a few reasons:

1. There is a dearth of those people who attempt to rain on the parade with their strict Baptist "you're all going to hell, sinners" sermons which sometimes turns into a police confrontation. The John 3:16 people are also light on the ground, but the clever few who are there put their signs into both German and English often. For some reason this makes me cackle aloud, seeing the dual-language signage. For some reasons the Germans cluck-cluck at crossing against a red light but have no problem with these folks being in town.

2. The dour-faced cranks who inhabit this country seem to lighten up for the weekend. I'm not sure if it's the presence of so much vinyl and leather or the rainbow leis, or simply that thousands of people come into Cologne for a party and bring their party mood. It reminds me of world cup, when Germany really put up a nice mood.

3. The parade is like Gay Pride in any other town, but it showcases a Germanized gay lifestyle. What do I mean? Anything that you are used to seeing Germans do--church, sports clubs, dance clubs--everything else they must do en masse and with their friends for life whom they have known since in utero, there is a gay German version. In particular, I was impressed last year with a male ballroom dancing club. It was hot as heck and they were dancing in full length formal outfits, putting on the full show. Superb.

4. In general it's a fun atmosphere. They give out trinkets to the crowd, and the drag queens will pose for photos. You can be as involved as you want. And the costumes and effort some people go to is spectacular to see.

It's worth a see if you're around Cologne. If you'd like to meet up let me know. I will be dragging D (who loathes parades in general) but will tolerate this one more than the others as no diving for candy is involved.

Language week 2 Mówisz po polsku?

Fascinating Polish to use in my part of Germany this week:

Dzisiaj pada deszcz. = It's raining today.

Myślałem, że nie będzie deszczu. = I thought it wouldn't rain.

Jutro będzie deszcz. = Tomorrow it'll be raining.

Jutro nie będzie słońca. = Tomorrow the sun won't be out.

Language Week 1

I have an evening alone as the boss found a hotel room for tonight. And since Mausi mentioned this, off we go. Skip to the bottom to read the English version.

Hay muchos meses qué no habla mucho Español, solamente un poco con mis colegas de España. Sin embargo, su español es diferente qué yo aprendí, es como la diferencia entre íngles de EEUU y Inglaterra. Cuando fue a la conferecia en Houston, yo hablé lo un poco, especialmente porque el Español de allí, de México, es como el español de California, y conozco sus palabras más que las de los Españoles.

En el hotel, fui un poco cansada después el viaje desde Europa, y la mujer vino por la tarde para limpair el cuarto. Ella no comprendió bien el Inglés, entonces cambié a Español. Ella contestó entonces, y me preguntó-quiere Ud. más jabón, etc. Al fin, ella me dijo, ´no soy de España.´ Uh, ok. Usualmente las mujeres son de México o America Central. Y entonces en Inglés, ´soy de Rusia.´ Oops.

Yo pienso, tal vez estoy muy cansada. Pero, no parece bien, y pienso y pienso. Es extraño, pq usualmente oigo bien los sonidos de este parte de Europa. Finalmente--en la próxima día, realicé, su Inglés y el acento, fue como el Inglés de una persona que habla Español. Aprende o escuche a eso Inglés, tal vez de los otros trabajadores o de la gente de Houston, donde hay mucha gente que hablan Español como su primera lengua. Es un poco loco, una rusa que no tiene el acento ´normal´ de su país, pero del otro país.

**********************

There are many months that I don't speak much Spanish, only a little with my colleagues from Spain. However, their Spanish is different than the Spanish that I learned, it's like the difference between the English of the US and the UK. When I went to the conference in Houston I spoke it a little, especially because the Spanish there, the Mexican Spanish, is like the Spanish of California, and I know their words better than the Spain Spanish.

In the hotel I was a little bit tired after the trip from Europe, and the woman came in the afternoon to clean the room. She didn't understand English well, so then I switched to Spanish. She answered then and asked me-do you want more soap, etc. At the end she said, "I am not from Spain." Uh, OK. Usually the women are from Mexico or Central America. And then in English "I am from Russia." Oops.

I think, perhaps I am very tired. But it doesn't seem right, and I think and think. It's strange, because usually I hear well the sounds of this part of Europe. Finally--on the next day, I realized, her English and accent, it was like the English of a Spanish speaker. She learns or listens to that English, perhaps from the other workers or the Houston people, where there are many people who speak Spanish as a first language. It's a little crazy, a Russian who does not have a 'normal' accent of her country, but of another country.

Get out the wooden shoes and tulips

I'm going to the Netherlands for a few days. I'm speaking at a conference and then taking the opportunity since I'm already there Friday, to stay into the weekend.

I'm hoping this stay will be pleasant. The latest into the summer I've ever been there has been Apr 1. Usually I'm there in the cold and gray winter months and I've come to associate the country with a pensive melancholy that isn't all bad since it's balanced with warm pubs and bright shops.

Back on Sunday.

class is back in session

While my German class and German teacher is great, I find that I learn the bulk of my German and my understanding of Germans outside of class. Some days it's not so useful words like 'Kartoffelkaefer', because I happened to find one of those in the kitchen at the office, other days it's a little more useful.

When D and I used to live in Deutz, a neighborhood of Cologne, we used to meet at a bar that was between our apartments, perhaps once a week. We had tried most of the bars in the immediate 10 block area, many with not so good results, including the one where they threw a man out because he heard us speaking English and became incensed and physically violent. Too bad he didn't ask us if we spoke German, then he would have really had something to complain about, the bad German that is multiplied in it's badness due to the fact that we speak it with two different accents and it's hard enough to understand mangled German when the accent is consistent.

However, at this in-between bar, something really clicked for us. It is a tiny hole in the wall, but we always have a lovely time when we go. It's almost like a German Cheers, we are recognized when we go, even though now that neither of us live in Deutz we only go once every few weeks. We are known as the foreigners there, but it's not said with that scrunched up frowny face, but instead with fascination and almost pride, as to the fact that their bar is so nice that foreigners would want to frequent it. And overall we're pretty non-invasive foreigners. We drink the local beer and speak German to the bar staff, although we chatter amongst ourselves in German.

Every time it's always an adventure and we always meet someone interesting there, and last night was no different. People often hear us speaking English and feel free to interrupt our conversation in English to test out their English skills and to ask us where we are from. We sat down near two gentlemen, who were perhaps 60-65 years old. Both spoke very fine English, and upon hearing where we were from, proceeded to tell us all of the places that they have been in our countries that we would perhaps know?

The one man was originally from East Germany and worked in a region there, Saxony Anhalt, known for producing chemicals. Because of his job he had the opportunity to travel to other countries, and he had to learn English, French, and Spanish. However, he mentioned that English is still difficult for him, because as a boy in East Germany he learned Russian as his first foreign language. Both men were very interesting, and as neighbors and friends they played off of each other, somewhat like those pseudo-cranky old men in the balcony of the Muppet show, always cracking jokes.

The most interesting part of the evening--beside the part where we got berated because we'll never learn proper German without dating a native German speaker--was when they were commenting about life in America, and route 66 and cowboys and Death Valley and all those great things that one can find in America. And the one man said, quite seriously, "you can have these things, we Germans, we don't, we cannot have dreams." Moments like this you can never find in a book on German culture.

follow-up on the goofy translation post

I had most recently mentioned here about this goofy-looking translation. To explain futher, when you see a sign in two languages, you expect it to say pretty much the same thing, to have the same meaning. Even better when you are somewhere foreign in Europe and there are multiple language translations, and you keep searching until you find one that you can understand.

The top right on the sign says 'Baggage claim' and 'Equipaje' with the little suitcase image. 'Equipaje' means luggage, so 'Baggage claim' makes sense.

On the bottom it says 'Información sobre Autobuses'. If you asked me to translate that to English, I would say 'Information about buses'. However, it says 'Ground Transportation' with the images of a bus and a taxi.

Where I would be tempted to take umbrage is that not only is the literal translation different, but it tends to slightly push the assumption that the Spanish speaker would be needing a bus rather than a taxi or some other form of ground transportation. A better choice to allign them would have been 'Autobuses/Taxis' on the Spanish portion, or to have 'Information about buses' as the English selection.

As a native American English speaker in an American company and the only one in my immediate area of 50 people (although there are other native English speakers who are British, Irish, etc. around), when someone needs a translations proofed they bring it on over. Because the largest English speaking population is American, they tend to want to gear it toward American English verbiage.

I proof all sorts of levels of English, from school English 20 years ago to "fluent just out of the university English'. Because it is often HR things that need to be signed by the higher-ups and the submitter wants it to be perfect, as well as because they usually put both the German and English together on any announcement so anyone would be free to recognize a bad translation, this sign's poor translation in such a public place rather irks me.

goofy spanish translation at EWR airport?

Newark Airport has always had English/Spanish signage everywhere.
You don't need heavy language skills to figure out the below. Does anything about the green part strike you as odd?

look closely

much time was spent on the balkon garden this weekend, and it has now officially shifted from setup mode to maintenance mode. in this photo, if you look closely you will see a spider. a bit of his web is visble at the top left leaf point. if you look slightly below the top of the left leaf and shift your gaze to the right, you'll see a brown blip that seems to be in the tree. that's my stellar photo taking, that's the spider.

i saw no reason to keep trying to take his photo, because this was actually the third go. in addition, this is his third choice of a web location, so i don't want to force him to move yet again due to me bothering him. his first choice was connected on top of my tomato plant that i like to spin, move and clip agressively. he then tried going between the two balkon chairs. finally he settled here, out of the main stream of activity. i'm hoping this location suits him, although i imagine the leaves may shift a bit, forcing him to re-do some activity (it's a cucumber plant, so it should grow and shift reasonably quickly).

my new cat

i'll explain later where she came from and how she became 'my new cat'. fortunately she's living with my grandmother and aunt as my apartment in germany doesn't allow pets and they have two cats so she'll have some company rather than hanging out in my empty apartment for 10 hours alone all day.

why June 7th is my favorite German holiday

--more often than not, it tends to rain on the May holidays. it never rains here on the June one, or so i think anyway. ;-)
--neither belgium nor the netherlands have this day as a holiday, so stores are open across the border. just think of the shopping possibilities. and even better, it's not just one or the other, so the crush of germans crossing the border will be a little more spread out.
--the germans don't go across the border so much on this holiday anyway, or for some reason there seems to be less traffic, perhaps not only for the above reason. i imagine if it's nice weather the rule is to stay home and work on the garden, because, well, it's the rule for June 7.
--my balkon garden actually has some green shoots and baby plants to look at where it didn't so much in May.
--i've started to regularly take my main holiday for the year in July. so now it's only a month away.

the rest of the mystery layover revealed

Since elaine and adam knew it was Newark, New Jersey, here are some more details in case you want to visit. The name for the neighborhood is Ironbound. You can read about it here or here.

There was quite a large selection of Portuguese and Spanish restaurants from the small cafes to upscale places, so given the option again, I would definitely go back.

The closest train station? Newark Penn Station (not to be confused with New York Penn Station), and it is served by the fine folks at NJ Transit who run the local/regional NJ trains such as the one I took from the airport, Amtrak if you're coming from further away, or PATH if you're coming from the NYC side.

So you want to travel from Newark Liberty Airport to the Ironbound neighborhood of Newark, New Jersey? If you want to make a daytrip like me from the Newark Airport, it's very simple. Follow the AirTrain signs inside the airport and buy your ticket from the machine using paper money, coins, or a credit card from the NJ Transit ticket machines. It costs 7.50 each way, so buy 2 one way tickets to get there and back. Go upstairs and get on the AirTrain and get off at the RailLink which is the second (and last) stop. It comes after P4 parking. The AirTrain goes in two directions, so when you're getting on, make sure you get on in the right direction.

Use your ticket to get through the turnstile and go down the stairs to the platform. Wait there for one of the regional trains heading toward north toward NYC. (You cannot get on an Amtrak train, your NJ Transit ticket is only good for NJ Transit trains.) They are clearly marked on the schedule on the TV monitor in the waiting room, or look for a train that is silver with orange/brown rather than silver with red/blue (Amtrak). There are two NJ Transit lines coming through, the Northeast Corridor or the New Jersey coast line. Both stop at Newark Penn Station so hop on either one.

You are only going one stop to Newark Penn Station and it takes 5 minutes. The trains toward NYC are often crowded, but don't worry, people will stand in the aisles and such and you're only going one stop. Get off at Newark Penn Station. You want to walk toward Ironbound and away from the business district. The area outside Newark Penn Station has Ironbound clearly marked. If you happen to walk out an exit where you don't see an Ironbound directional sign, then continue to follow the perimeter of the train station building as there are clearly marked signs in existence.

Give yourself perhaps 5 to 10 min max depending on which exit you came through to reach the edge of the neighborhood, and then walk around and enjoy.

Overall timings from the airport:
--Leaving baggage claim you need from 5-20 min depending on where you are to go back up one escalator and find your way to the ticket machine.
--You need from 5-15 min to get a ticket, depending on if there are people in line in front of you.
--You need 10-12 min to wait for the AirTrain and then take the ride to the Rail station.
--Another 3 min and you'll be on the platform.
--Depending on the time of day, you may wait from 10-40 min for an NJ Transit train. These trains may often be 20 min late, so factor that into the equation.
--Then 5 min on the train and anther 5-10 min to be in the neighboorhood.
So depending on the timing of everything you may be door to door in an hour as I was, although I had budgeted 1.5 hours to get there. I had done the same for the return trip, so I'd say you'd want a four hour layover or more to make your travel worth the effort.

Assuming you have a painfully longer layover, rather than going to Newark Penn Station, you can instead go to New York Penn Station, just follow the above instructions and your ticket will instead cost 15 USD each way and you will be on the train longer, until New York Penn Station, the end of the line at around 40 min. Then you're on your own to find good Portuguese food!

The mystery layover - Bom dia!

My flight from the Midwest to the East coast was cancelled so they moved me to one that left around 8 AM, arriving around 11 AM. My East coast to Cologne flight did not leave until 18 ish. Stuck with 7 hours in the airport before an 8 hour flight, and the luggage already checked through, I left the airport for a little half day trip.

I've yet to make it to Portugal proper, so I went to 'Little Portugal':

I stopped at a local supermarket and perused the Goya products aisle.

I hadn't eaten yet today (I don't usually do breakfast, only lunch), I stopped at a little cafe which reminded me very much of the cafes in Puerto Rico. I heard only Portuguese upon entering and the menu was only in Portuguese. English wasn't working when I asked for a sandwich, so I switched to Spanish and it worked much better.

It was a busy shopping streets with all kinds of stores selling Portuguese items.

A local restaurant that looks like a fortress. The strings of flags across the street alternated between US and Portugal.

The local Catholic church, flying both the US and Portuguese flags:


So where was I? Here are the clues:

--I took airport transport to the airport train station which took about 12 min. The local train from there to my destination took 5 minutes and cost 7.50 usd each way. It was a 5 min walk from the train station to the beginning of the first street.

--This location had Portuguese speakers from Portugal, but also from other locales such as Brazil and Portuguese speaking African nations.

--They have a big Portugal day fest once per year. However, I missed it by a week. :-( It's this coming weekend.

--In addition to Portuguese, Spanish was also heavily spoken, and overall Spanish is quite common in this general area.

--This state is known for having one of the highest tax rates for sales tax, cigarette tax, and property tax.

jet lag plus-->better than traditional jet lag

So I'm sitting on the plane back to DE, at about two hours from CGN enjoying my exit row in cattle class, and I start sneezing. The guy behind me starts to sneeze also. I have no reason as to why this would be, and the first thought that comes into my head is that I am catching a cold from the cold air due to the exit door. I then banished that German thought immediately and pondered if it was the recycled air, and something had worked its way in, like perfume.

However, my nose starts to run watery, and it's excessive. Fortunately I insist on putting every napkin given to me during the trip in my pocket so I used them in lieu of tissues. On the flip side, I end of cursing the wadded up unused napkins in my bag every time I go somewhere thinking, why do I bring these things along? I sit there thinking--there is no way this is my June allergies invading-we're above the clouds using stale plane air.

Upon arriving at CGN and waiting for the bag, all was fine. I go out and find the car and head out with the window down and I'm beginning to get stuffed up. I try my tried and true test to see if something is a Germany flower allergy for me--I put on the AC with the windows up. Sure enough it stops.

I get up to the tiny town of B. and get out of the car and it gets worse again. After a brief three hour nap (yes, it's my secret weapon to get through the day, with the caveat being to make it no more than three hours), I wake up and it's worse.

You.have.got.to.be.f'ing.kidding.me.

I get wicked allergies in DE each year around June, but I think because I've been away this has just hit me like a ton of bricks. So my next move was to dump the stash of US drugs from the closet that are lovingly squirreled away for such the occasion. And then to mutter some choice expletives and I realized that a few of them 'may cause drowsiness'. I'm currently treading water in the sea of drowsiness, so I really don't need anymore help in that area.

I'm currently partaking in 'Tylenol Severe Allergy' as its sunshiny yellow box does not contain anything about drowsy. It's a new one in my line-up, so we'll see if it will be a returning one.