Au Revoir, Europe

…and we're back. I reached the two month mark on the road this week, which can only mean one crazy thing: today is the day I've been dreading since planning this trip. It still beats a great day in the office, but I left my hotel this morning at 3:55 AM to catch the first of four flights over 24 hours that'll end with me in Cambodia. Here's the rest of my "day" - Istanbul >>>> Abu Dhabi >>>> Bangkok >>>> Phnom Penh. Should. Be. Bueno.

I've spent the past week staring longingly at Asia from the European side of Istanbul, a gorgeous mess of a city that straddles the official line dividing the two continents, the Bosphorus. More on that later. Here are some highlights of my final two weeks in the old world:

Switzerland

After leaving Italy, I shot up to Zurich for a rendezvous with my buddies Evan and Crystal. Evan's uncle, a Bay Area native, left the US for Switzerland during the Reagan Administration and never looked back, settling along the banks of Lake Zurich with his wife and son. Over a deliciously traditional Raclette dinner, I learned a lot about what makes the Swiss economy the most competitive in the world. To wit:

1. Counties (called cantons) compete with each other for residents and businesses, often negotiating tax rates directly with the businesses and residents themselves. 

2. Echoing Tip O'Neill, all politics in Switzerland truly is local. Any development, within a canton or one of its municipalities - a new road, new street lights, a new soccer field - is subject to a referendum, making direct democracy an actual fact of life and forcing residents to take ownership over their vote.

3. All residents' income and taxes are public information, providing ample motivation to pay your fair share.

4. While university is paid for entirely by the government, only 13% of students qualify and 10% of them are cut after their first semester. 

There's a lot more where that comes from, but the main economic hallmark is clear: competition. Institutions designed to foster competition create a competitive state. Seems simple enough, especially in a country surrounded by mountains and small enough to drive across in half a day. I'm dubious the same thing could happen in large measure in the States, though. Sure, Texas can try to lure Californians with its favorable tax situation, which is why we get so many visits from Rick Perry into our Golden State. And yeah, lower state income tax rates would be great. But then you'd have to live in Texas. (I know, I know, and I agree. Austin IS awesome.)

I spent the rest of the weekend visiting with my buddy Ian, the burger mogul I mentioned a month ago, who has a house in Zurich and a thriving chain of restaurants throughout Switzerland called Holy Cow. Thanks to Facebook, I learned that my cousin Jessica and her boyfriend were also in Zurich for a six hour layover on their trip home from a medical school rotation in Kenya, which is totally awesome. Not awesome? I learned about it when they were boarding their flight home. Noooooo! So sorry I missed you, Jess. Next time, I need to heed that strange disturbance I felt in The Force. It can only mean a beloved family member is nearby. I must have skipped that day in Jedi training. Lesson to all you kids out there: go to school.

Zurich power lines

The Gibbon-Aydelott Juggernaut

Budapest

Then I spent four days in Budapest, a lovely city bisected by the Danube River with that special kind of beauty reserved for hilly cities next to water. Hungary still feels like it's emerging from decades of communist rule, even though the Wall fell more than 20 years ago, and its history is stuffed with tragedy: they've constantly been invaded, conquered, overthrown; their bridges have been destroyed and reconstructed, their churches and castles miraculously spared, keeping it a very worthwhile destination. I went for a run to check out the architecture with two girls starting a running tour business - Eszter and Lidia - and their determination to launch something in a country still feeling its way around capitalism was downright inspiring. "It's very hard to start a business in Hungary," Eszter explained. "In America, if you have a good idea, people are happy for you and want to help. Here they get jealous and try to stop you or steal it." 

She also apologized on behalf of the country for a dodgy lodging situation I chose of my own volition, and blamed herself when I couldn't get into the restaurant she recommended because I asked her where to go too late. Basically, Eszter is the nicest person in the world. Here's hoping Running Tours Budapest thrives.

Budapest Running Tour - nice shirt!

Budapest

Panorama

Istanbul

I made it to Istanbul last Friday, extremely excited to meet up with three of my good friends from SF: Julie, Veronica, and Gina (who stayed in Italy last week while I headed north). Not long after I arrived, we whisked ourselves to dinner and a night on the town ushering in Gina's birthday at a few establishments of dubious repute in Beyoglu, a pedestrian-friendly neighborhood full of bars, clubs, and restaurants, some of which charge men more than women for the same round of drinks. Boo.

Istanbul is an amazing place; as physically gifted as San Francisco or Seattle, with natural vistas and hulking bridges high above its waterways, it's uniquely positioned to marry East and West. Like most of Europe - we only crossed into Asia to hit the airport - its cobblestone streets zig zag with little organization, and they catch more than their share of flip flops (causing the clumsier among us to trip several times a day). While officially a secular state, Turkey sits at the nexus of the Islamic world; it borders Iran, Iraq, and Syria, and its population is predominantly Muslim. In case that wasn't clear, there are five daily reminders that you're indeed in a different part of the world: the solemn, eery calls to prayer from a godlike voice echoing above the city. Whereas the skylines of Stockholm and Copenhagen are marked by myriad ornamental spires, Istanbul's landscape is dominated by the minarets of its seemingly uniqutous collection of mosques. And while not as prevalent as some of its more overtly religious neighbors, it is still very common to pass on the street several women clad in black burqas, every body part covered but their eyes and fingertips. 

About those Turks. There are a few new world ideas they haven't yet adopted.

1. Lines are an essential pillar to orderly society. Wait your turn!

2. Men should be subtle when checking out ladies they find comely. Staring them up and down is kinda creepy. 

3. Being creepy is a bad thing.

4. Men should use deodorant. Like, everyday.

5. Men and women can be friends. Honest. Just because a guy is walking around with three ladies doesn't mean he's a pimp. Or a sultan to be admired, though he very much appreciates the nickname.

6. It isn't necessary to put a flag on every building. Even if it's one of the coolest flags in the world.

7. Your food industry is supposed to drench the cuisine in butter, deep fry frozen meats, and overindulge on artificial ingredients. As a result, I think it's possible that Turkish food is the best in the world. Absolutely delicious.

In one of the more surreal days of my trip so far, I scored an invite to a black-tie event at a museum owned by the richest man in Turkey. A friend of a friend has some clout in town, so after being told I needed a tux, it took me two hours to be fully suited up and ready to go, Pretty Woman style. Thank god I didn't have to eat anything with a funny-looking fork, because I definitely would have shot it across the room. And now I have some James Bond pics from a night out in Istanbul, which we can all agree everybody should have. 

Ballin'

The girls at Boo Mosque

We were each interviewed on camera by young Turks learning English. Adorably. My interviewer was the least experienced. His first question: "are you learning English?"

Galata Bridge

Yerebetan Sarayi - Turkish for "Air Conditioner"

Vern stuck in a mirror, Superman style

Farewell, Europe

And that's a wrap. After setting foot in 13 countries, reuniting with several old friends and making countless new ones, my European Vacation 2013 is complete. When I land in Cambodia tomorrow morning (around 7:00 PM Friday night in SF), I'll meet up with the delegation from Groundwork Opportunities and begin my volunteer project in Siem Reap. I'm sure to write all about it in a week, so stay tuned for that. It promises to be different than anything I've done before. After that, I make it to Koh Tao (Thailand) on June 3rd for a weeklong scuba diving course, and the beat goes on.

Until next time...

PS - The girls and I created a Spotify playlist as a soundtrack for our trip to Turkey, appropriately named "Turkish Delight." It's full of reminders of what happened while we were here, but we're missing one key track. Does anybody know a song that will remind us of the time that one of us played euchre for the very first time (in their whole life) but still felt the wrath of another player for misplaying one measly hand? If so, let me know in the comments. It'll make our soundtrack complete. 

Rome. And Reunions.

After another great weekend in Sweden (more on that later), I met up with my buddy Gina in Rome to travel around Italy a bit. She works for a damn progressive company that gives a one-month sabbatical after five years on the job, which every company in the history of ever should do, and we quickly started doing the kind of things you do when Gina's involved. Stuff like crashing a birthday party, visiting a "gourmet food store" that her friend recommended only to have the owner of a swank restaurant drop everything and hang with us for a bit, and meeting up with some Italian friends of her dad's for a Gina-reception at a bar teeming with Italian TV stars. She deftly dodged two smitten Italians who were stoked to learn we were buddies, not datings or marrieds. One bloke pulled the trifecta the next day hoping to score a date with her: call/voicemail, email, Facebook message. I respected his persistence; she still resisted. Boo, Gina. Boo! Give the guy a chance! One night, we found a karaoke bar that was open until 4 AM. She sang with some new friends. I watched baseball. As you do in Rome.

Stefano, Gina, and their mutual American friend who hangs on the wall

I don't understand why Italians aren't fat

Like everybody else, I've read all about the benefits of the Mediterranean diet, so I was pretty excited to get down here last week and indulge in all the health. Bread. Pasta. Cheese. More bread. More pasta. More cheese. Cannoli. Gelato. Wine by the gallon. Pizza. I could feel the kilos shedding after every meal. 

Just to confirm, the magic Mediterranean diet is just about being in the Mediterranean and eating food, right? Thought so.

Something called "pizza"

A whole lot of delicious

Home made Pici, native to Siena. Spaghetti on HGH.

Vino Whitey

Just in case I'm doing the Med diet wrong, I'm lucky that Rome is the kind of place you want to walk around in. After engaging in my new favorite tour - the six-mile guided jog through town to see the sights - I spent the rest of the week walking the city. Several hours and kilometers a day (when in Rome, we use the metric system), up the Spanish Steps and by the Trevi Fountain, the Colosseum, the Pantheon, Vatican City, across the River Tiber to the lively Trastevere neighborhood. In fact, like Magellan before us, we circumnavigated an entire country one day last week when we got lost looking for the Mouth of Truth. No small feat, even if it's the smallest country in the world.

From left: Russell Crowe, me, annoying tree branches, Colosseum

Trevi Fountain, a big stop on the running tour

Straw-hat photobomb

The Bridge of Angels leading to Vatican City

"And I have seen the David, seen the Mona Lisa, too"*

*bonus points if you can identify the song without Googling it. Or binging it, if anybody actually bings.

Then it was off to Firenze, the birthplace of the Renaissance and the prototype for countless suburban developments in Central California trying in vain to recreate the authentic charm of Tuscany. As trite as it sounds, the Statue of David is incredible. Whereas the Mona Lisa, Starry Night, and Persistence of Memory don't look much different in person than in pictures, David comes alive before your eyes. I don't think I realized how big he is - I blame Goonies - and 10 minutes staring at the once-discarded chunk of marble was well worth the hourlong wait in line.

Also rented a car and drove to Siena - a maze of a city that's home to the world-famous Il Palio horserace - then stopped at one of the most accommodating and gorgeous wineries I've ever been to, DieVole in Chianti. Show up without a reservation and want lunch, too? No problem, but only if you'll have four courses and coffee for about 30 bucks. Want a wine tasting for only 12 Euros ($15-16)? Sure, but only if you're okay with getting a private winery tour - drinking the best reds in the wine cellar - and complimentary grappa afterward. Twist my arm.

They've been making red wine there for over 900 years, when two intrepid winemakers rented the 1,000-hectare (~2,200 acres) plot from the Catholic Church for quite a haul: two chickens, six silver coins, and three loaves of bread. Most of the grapes are Sangiovese, exposing a fundamental difference in wine culture between the US and Europe. We Yanks identify our wine by the grape; Euros name it after the region. Chianti Classico is mostly Sangiovese and pairs well with fava beans, at least according to Hannibal Lecter. If we made the same wine in Sonoma, we'd call it a Sangiovese, not a Sonoma. Which is good, considering that the climate is changing and "a Sonoma" may be completely different in 50 years.

Now we're in Positano, down on the Amalfi Coast, and, well, I can't lie. It's stupid how beautiful this place is. Hit up a ridiculous restaurant last night with the people from the hotel, arranged by Blake Costanzo's very gregarious papa. We devoted significant time to discussing how the Niners would have won the Super Bowl if they hadn't let Blake go, pouring huge crystals of sea salt into my still-gaping wound. 

But, oh, the Amalfi Coast - I won't muck it up with words; check out some pictures. 

La Mer

Papa's own invention. No idea what he calls it.

When the moon hits your eye...

Bench

"Footpath of the Gods"

Reunion

There's nothing quite as life affirming as the reunion; meeting up with a friend you haven't seen in years and realizing nothing has changed. The jokes are the same, the old stories feel like they just happened, your memory spits out minute details of things you did 10 years ago that you'd forgotten you could still remember. I've been extremely fortunate the last seven weeks, meandering around Europe from one reunion to the next, repeatedly entering that time warp that somehow wipes away all that's elapsed in the interim. Even so, last week's reunion was a first: the longest gap I've ever gone between visits with a friend.

There was a year in the early 90s where you'd have mistaken Niclas Lindberg for the third August brother. From the first day he moved in with my grandmother - an exchange student from the south of Sweden - he and my brother Jeff were inseparable high school seniors in Lemoore, CA. I was fortunate enough to land a second older brother - one with a funny accent and very different perspective on the world - and I still very clearly remember the day he left in 1993, shoulders slumped as he walked toward his flight away from Fresno Air Terminal.

Last Sunday night, Niclas picked me up at the train station in Kristianstad, Sweden, 12 miles north of his hometown, Ahous, home to 10,000 people and one very famous vodka distillery (Absolut). It was the first time I'd seen him since that day at the airport 20 years ago. 

Ahous - tallest building on the right is the Absolut distillery

The lines in his brow are etched a little deeper, his stubble is thick enough to be called a beard and specked with bits of grey, but nothing else about Nille has changed. He still says "yeah, but" when making a point he really wants to emphasize, and he still carries a "no worries" approach to every little obstacle that comes up. He's grown up, for sure, and he has the family to prove it: his lovely Brazilian wife, Tatiana, and three beautiful kids, Valentina, 12, Oliver, 11, and baby Gabriela, five months old. I'm pretty sure I won over the two older kids when Oliver realized we had the same pair of kicks (sweet Vans, albeit in three different colors). I also got to confirm for Tatiana that Niclas did, in fact, bring the house down at the LHS Felix Awards when he and Jeff performed their original song, Phoenix. I believe her exact words were "so it really is true?" in a tone that revealed a long-held skepticism.

Niclas and Valentina

Niclas, Tatiana, and I sat up late drinking Spanish wine and talking like old friends do. The story of how they ended up together is real but sounds like fiction; Niclas asked me about people that he remembered but I haven't seen in 15 years; we planned future meetups before 2033, and even a potential relocation for the Lindberg family to San Francisco. Niclas is a software developer with a social-marketing internet startup. Sounds about right. 

At some point in the night, I realized how big an impact Niclas had on my life. It's not too dramatic to say he inspired me to see the world outside Lemoore, California, the US and A. I told him so, and I'm really glad I was able to. It felt like I was spending the evening with family. 

Hey, here's a picture. Rumor has it worth a thousand words.

Egads! Always remember to take pictures. 

Rounding the bend on Europe

It's hard to believe, but my European tour is nearly complete. I'm headed to Zurich this weekend, then it's Budapest and Istanbul next week before I head to Cambodia. For giggles, here's the roster of countries I've visited so far.

UK (England)

Sweden

Denmark

Norway

The Netherlands

Germany

Switzerland

France

Poland

Italy

NEXT UP: Switzerland (again), Hungary, and Austria or Serbia (TBD), then Turkey. I was very tempted to book a ticket to Tel Aviv the other day, but then Israel started bombing sites within Syria. No bueno.

What a ride.

One bit of news from the real world: I have a job! Starting Sept 1 in San Francisco. Pretty awesome to have that waiting for me. Now I'll forget about it and live it up for four months.

Cin Cin!