Achtung Munich!

From Gabe:

I think we will spend nine hours in the air to Heathrow London, and another 2 hours to Munich.

When your night becomes your day, you start feeling like you're in the Twilight Zone. Some of the best moments visually were looking out and seeing Greenland, and the luscious greens of England and Germany.

But when snacks become meals and the stink you smell is your own, you know its time to get off.

Heck, after 11 hours on the plane, I actually can't wait to get on the RV that I once dreaded.

And the kids, well, they just bounce back like a basketball. Its great to see and amazing. At least for now. We are still waiting for Rick and Laura to return with said RV.

But we've been delivered, and I got to eat an Enlgish breakfast (with BBQ pork and beans--YEAH! And I mean YEAH, I loved it. I want to do this when I get home) and I got to say danke once.

To be continued....

The Wages of Air Travel

When you go into a situation with no expectations there is both blessing and curses. At first when you don't realize just how long your flight really is, there is bliss. Then somewhere over Greenland when your night is becoming there day, thus begins the wages of air travel!

The spaciness, the hunger, the food. In general it went fine, but man it took so long. We were spared by a Barrackite from San Francisco who showed us mercy in sharing her fruit with a very hungry Ellie. A blessing. Then 2 minutes before touch down, this same woman decided to stretch and do a yoga performance in the aisle for all to see. A curse.

Full lavoratories.

Full bladders.

Watching 27 Dresses 27 times

Kids not sleeping, preparing to save meltdown for a foreign land.

Getting so hungry that you eat like an animal.

Realizing when the air turns un-fresh that everyone on the plane did too.

My name is Gabe Acosta
and this is the longest day of my life.

To be continued.....

Technical Difficulties

So, with less than 24 hours until our flight departs, the sylvester/acosta clan is already experiencing technical difficulties. Indicative of our trip? Perhaps....

1. My dear friends who had agreed to loan us their TomTom programmed for Europe plugged it in today and it started smoking. Sadly John Cleese will not be directing us from country to country, but rather we will be dependent upon maps. Having driven with my family long distances on numerous road trips, I foresee multiple arguments over which road to take and how to get from place to place. These arguments will occur between my father, my mother, and my sister. Blissfully, I have downloaded the entire first season of Wonder Woman and the most recent season of My Name is Earl so at inappropriate times, I will burst out laughing, which may not help matters, but that is the joy of being directionally-challenged: no one ever asks me to read the map!

2. My phone will not work in Europe. In the same way that the United States has rejected the overwhelming use of the metric system, the United States has decided to go their own way with phone service. Apparently, the rest of the world is on a GSM network, while the United States is on a CV something or other system. Now some phones (those whose price range is over $400) come with a system that is compatible as do some networks, however Verizon has not seen fit to convert.

So not only will we be lost, but we will be unable to communicate with one another......But maybe if I bring my Obama books, the residents will be kind enough to point us in the right direction.

So until tomorrow!

Heather

"Just Tell Them You Love Obama!"

So when anxieties hit you, its usually because of fear of the unknown. The best remedy is to talk to folks who've gone before you to Europe and pick their brains about what to expect.

So I was talking to my work friend Jason about Europe. He allayed many of my fears just by sharing his own experiences. Fears about getting mugged, or hustled, or feeling lost quickly fell away:

"Oh, there's plenty of other tourists around"

"They all pretty much speak English over there."

"We didn't have any problems."

And finally, the best advice I've gotten so far:

"Just tell them you love Obama!"

My friend made the point that, well, Europeans are very excited about Obama, and they love him. And by the same token, they could love you for loving him.

I guess that could really smooth things over. "Tell them you love Obama...."

Yeah, right.

Well, I guess if I get in a bind, I could fake it.

Gabe

Sharing Is Over-Rated

From Gabe:
So the topic of packing came up a few weeks back over a Europe planning trip. The topic turned to sharing items to conserve space for packing. One person would bring all said items for the group. Okay, that’s fine; I can share to a point. For example, let me know who has the drugs and I’m good. Thats useful sharing. But suddenly, the next thing I knew, Laura is talking about one person bringing the fingernail clippers, tweezers, and scissors so we all don’t have to bring our own.

Whoah!

The background here is that may facial hair grows like a jungle. This means, in addition to regular shaving, I have to use scissors to free ingrown hairs and tweezers to pluck them out. Not to mention my nose hairs. Sharing these grooming items simply crosses the line. I think I can best express myself Dr. Suess style:

Will you share
your tweezers man?

I do not think so,
Euro-man.
I will not share
my tweezers man!

I will not share them
How can you?
When most nose stuff
sticks like glue!

I will not share them here or there
I will not share them anywhere!
I will not share them on the road
I will not share them if you goad

I will not share them with my wife
I will not share them my whole life

Scissors prick my pore
Just look
They’ll still be mine
in Innsbruck
I will not share them
in a hostel
I do not will not
share my nostril

I cannot
will not
care to share
that same tool
that pulls your hair

I fear this topic
will be debated
but sharing of this kind
is over-rated

How I Roll....

Some of you are aware that I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Unfortunately, it is not the kind that makes me keep my apartment or my car clean. Rather, it is the type that keeps me awake at night worrying that a brush fire is going to burn me alive. Generally, I am able to pray, meditate and use coping skills and I manage just fine. However, as the trip nears, my craziness grows. During this trip I am going to encounter two of my three most anxiety provoking situations, flying and being a passenger in a vehicle driving in the mountains. I have also noticed a bit of a germ phobia. Thus, today's topic. And yes, I know I am crazy.

Last week, I went to my general physician. I explained the vacation that I was set to embark upon. After a brief fit of laughter, he ask "So what do you need?". This was the response that I was seeking. By the time I left, I was holding the golden ticket, a prescription for Ativan. While I believe it is important to use all non-medical interventions prior to turning to benzos, these are desperate times. As the prescription was filled, a smile crept across my face....I was going to make it! You see, when it comes to flying, I prefer to fly Mr. T style. For those of you not sure of the reference, Mr. T played B.A. Baracus on one of the most fabulous TV shows of the '80s, the A-Team. Whenever the Team had to go to another country to fight the day's battle, B.A. Baracus would respond "I ain't gettin on no plane", at which point someone would give him a glass of milk laced with tranquilizers and he would wake up at the destination spot, completely unaware of his journey. In my ideal world, this is what would happen to me and I would merely wake up calling someone a "fool" for taking me on a plane.

My last flight was to Chicago with my friend Samantha. We flew Southwest and found seats in the front of the plane. The set up was cockpit, bathroom, emergency exit, and then seating. Every time someone got up to use the bathroom, I had a vision of them going to the emergency exit and opening the door, mistaking it for the bathroom and all of the passengers would be vented out of the plane, meeting their doom. So what did I do? I became the aisle monitor, directing everyone that came up by my seat to use the correct door and to not linger around the emergency door, as the giant warning "exit" sign and complicated locking mechanism was not enough to thwart the ignorance of the passengers. Yes, I know I am crazy.

During the trip, my father and my sister will be driving. My father is the king of looking everywhere but the road while pointing out landmarks and my sister has difficulty giving up the right of way or even following behind another car on the road. Now most people would be able to adjust to both of these situations, noting the numerous statistics that state how safe flying is and the guard rails keeping vehicles from going off the cliffs, however I am someone who is all about "the odds". I figure, if a person is in a car crash, they have decent odds of survival. If a plane crashes or an RV goes off the edge of the Alps, odds of survival are significantly reduced.....hence the Ativan. And yes, I know I am crazy.

As for the germs, I never considered myself to be phobic about germs, until I realized the number of public restrooms that I would be using on this trip. So what did I do? I went to Target, because I knew Target would have an answer for me. And did they ever! Not only did I pick up several travel-sized rolls of toilet paper and sanitizing hand wipes, but I found the motherload...travel packages of toilet seat covers. That's what I'm talking about!!! Now granted they are made for children and have colorful pictures of balloons and kittens on them, but my derriere will not have to have direct contact with a public toilet for the duration of the trip. And no, that is not crazy, that's just right.

Until next time,

Heather

A Whole New Reality

From Gabe:
Sometimes a mother-in-law sums it up perfectly. So I'm talking with Grace and Laura the other day about the trip, when I make the comment to my wife "I think you're in for big surprise on the actual size of this RV." (We had a friend whose in the RV business over here, tell us Sunday that 21' in Europe was more like 16' of livable space.) To which she frowned and told me that I was being negative again.

Suddenly, Grace steps in and in a very Chicagoan-style berating tone blurts to Laura, "Hey, you listen! Gabe is right! Laura, you need to prepare yourself for a WHOLE NEW REALITY!"

That's right: seven various personalities. Varying baggage of the kind that you don't pack but just bring with you. Five countries. One RV that just got smaller.

A whole new reality indeed.