The Daily Krimmel

Venezia

2008-11-09T08:49:00.000-08:00

Denmark!

2008-10-13T05:36:00.000-07:00

Legoland

Island of Mandu, Denmark

2008-10-13T05:30:00.000-07:00

Laurids and Hanna Johansen

looking for amber that often washes up on shore after a storm

Johansen Family Farm

2008-10-13T05:25:00.000-07:00

Austria

2008-10-13T05:20:00.000-07:00

the hills are alive.... with the sound of music.... la da de da...

Hollywood Safari Park

2008-09-30T08:29:00.000-07:00

We drove through an enclosed area of tigers and lions, some of them walking within feet of our car

A cute little zorse. Half zebra half horse.

Ludwigsburg Chateu

2008-09-30T08:19:00.000-07:00

Gerhard and Monica explored Germany with us
Repunzal, Repunzal, let down your hair

finding our way through a labyrinth

Schwartzwald

2008-09-30T08:08:00.000-07:00

a typical old house in the Black Forest... inside everything is miniature, the proportions of the furniture are made for dwarfs... a perfect fairy tale house tucked away deep in the woods

the world's biggest cuckoo clock... also the world's biggest disappointment as the giant bird came out to whisper "koo..... (30 senconds later.....).... koo"

Deutchland

2008-09-30T07:48:00.000-07:00

Tuebingen skyline Laura posing with a Bavarian local

making stoic German poses with our host Gary. Shortly before WWII Hitler commissioned a mural to be done in a Military hospital in Garmisch-Partenkirchen. The theme... homoerotic men and white horses. After the allies reclaimed the area the men were given white undergarmets with a fresh coat of paint.

dancing at the German bar where
Gary was DJing to Prince and Falco

the theme of the night: back to school

Hohenzollern Castle

Jon, Gerhard and Monica Krimmel looking out over the fatherland

our first couch-surfing hosts Marco and Petra

Switzerland

2008-09-30T07:28:00.000-07:00

Jon and Danny, our host in Ilanz

Lago di Lugano

Jon discussing life with our couch-surfer host
Moxli over some herbal tea made from his garden

Liechtenstein

2008-09-24T10:26:00.000-07:00

crossing the border from
Switzerland into Liechtenstein

fulfilling Josh's life-long dream, we trekked across this vast country on our bicycles, crossed the border into Austria, and then turned around to return to Switzerland
... of course, doing everything in style

oh barilla

2008-08-08T00:51:00.000-07:00

Tortelli Ai Funghi Porcini?...or Tortelli Al
Prosciutto Crudo Di Parma. That is the question.

hot, humid and happy

2008-08-08T00:18:00.000-07:00

2008-08-05T13:17:00.000-07:00

ride through town

2008-08-03T10:58:00.000-07:00

... so this is my Italian life ...

2008-07-25T04:38:00.000-07:00

Today I woke up to the sound of construction workers drilling, the Africans that live above us screaming at each other, and dirty pigeons cooing at my window. The most painful sound between the broken English/Italian/Swahili screams and slaps was the sound of a little boy crying. I lay in bed looking at the ceiling thinking about how I would call the police if I was a legal citizen... and then I began to question whether my thoughts were in the 1^st or 2^nd Conditional form. Irritated with my grammatical tendencies, I got out of my sticky humid bed and made Jon a cup of coffee.

2nd memory of today:

Listening the hum of tired Italian voices on the bus, swaying ungracefully into the greasy graffitied window, and then looking out into the countryside at the large round haystacks glistening on the open field like golden clouds floating on a vibrant green sea.... and then an unquenchable smile.

3rd memory:

Listening to Jarett teach his student Marco Manfrandini “Git your shit together.”

Memory 4:

Smiling as my beginner at the end of the lesson waved and said, “Hello, Laura. You good weekend,” as he left the room.

Memory 5:

Waiting in line at factory cantina behind a curly mulleted man amongst the blur of blue Barilla uniforms, playing a game in my mind to guess what the pasta shape will be in store when me and my plastic lunch tray are close enough to see the prima piati.

Memory 6:

Getting off early and being very excited to ride my bicycle.

Memory 7:

Being very disappointed with myself when I fell off my bike into an old crabby man wearing a cabby hat as I was leaving the Asian market.

Memory 8:

Sitting in lawn chairs by the fountain in the little square on my street with my friends, a transvestite from Cuba named Luigi, a decrepit old Italian women with lung cancer who has never spoken a word (I'm not sure by choice or by ability), and my favorite: Gloria, a round French-Italian in her late 60s and her two mangy dogs, Sorbo and Jimi. She runs the show, but I think I'm her favorite too. And besides, I'm kinda obsessed with Jimi, her slobbery, lame, deaf french-bulldog that follows me around the park with his three working legs (and one dragging behind) pathetically panting and begging for attention.

Memory 9:

Picking up fresh produce (that I was going to buy!) with my hands in a little vegetable market (our local one is closed for holiday), my hand being smacked and a man screaming, “No! No! No!” to me. Then a women screaming and shaking her fist at the owner of the shop, then the owner of the shop trying desperately to defend me... “Americani... no, non capito....” and then two snobbish Italian women stomping out of the market with their noses turned up at me to add to their melodramatic demonstration of disapproval.

Memory 10:

Being very excited after grocery shopping to make fajitas with Jon, and then remembering that we forgot to buy tortillas.

Memory 11:

Rolling out a flour mixture using a beer bottle as a rolling-pin and then handing these experimental pancakes to our neighbor Leonardo to fry up what were meant to be tortillas.

Memory 12:

Cioccolato and cocco gelato. Strolling down a narrow cobblestone street licking my gelato behind the laughter of Jon and Leonardo, a sort of nervous laughter as they discussed the mostly absurd but slightly possible chance of waking up in a bathtub of ice with a kidney missing, a lesson that would be learned from couch surfing across Europe with people we've met online or an unbelievable travel package found on the internet (something that both us and Leonardo have committed to for our summer plans).

Levanto

2008-07-25T03:49:00.000-07:00

frutto di bosco
(fruit of the forest)

another weekend in Parma

2008-07-25T03:05:00.000-07:00

making Nestle goodies with ingredients
smuggled from our short visit to the States

one of the beautiful public
murals that i have fallen in love with

Torchiara Castle

2008-07-12T10:51:00.000-07:00

Torchiara Castle rests on the
outskirts of Parma. It is one of the
most well preserved medieval castles in Italy.

the king's room where the walls
are adorned with intricate woodwork

Laura's favorite mural

Jon's favorite mural,
the hula-hoop pyramid

there are countless scenes depicting sea
battles among old ruins of ancient cities

Baroque Concert at the Medieval Castle

2008-07-12T10:16:00.002-07:00

our friend Richard playing the lute

Lago di Como

2008-06-23T13:47:00.000-07:00

Laura and Sara went horseback riding

Federico, our teenage horse guide who drank from the horse troff, rolled his own tobacco on his stallion and then asked "...want to gallop?" before our horses shot off at full speed across the hillside

Bella, Laura's one eyed horse

a nice ol' man with the most amazing necklace ensemble

Jon sporting the euro shorts with the traditional american tube socks

Exploring the Ligurian Coast for Jon's Birthday

2008-05-21T13:01:00.000-07:00

...another weekend in Parma

2008-05-21T11:01:00.000-07:00

getting a good ol' american fix

... at work ...

2008-04-28T12:15:00.000-07:00

Cinque Terre

2008-04-25T10:10:00.000-07:00

...on the road again

rock skipping competition

relaxing on the castle wall

enjoying the peaceful sunset

...moments later
a huge wave came out of nowhere

Skiing the Italian Alps

2008-04-20T09:31:00.000-07:00

Life in Parma

2008-04-20T08:53:00.000-07:00

our little cave

2008-04-20T08:39:00.000-07:00

we live underground in what used to be a wine-cellar. we're painting a sea mural on the walls in attempt to brighten up the place

Firenze

2008-04-20T08:26:00.000-07:00

Florence

2008-02-29T03:14:00.000-08:00

So now we are looking at two options: working with IBM in Milan or working in a pasta making factory in Parma.

Farewell to Crete

2008-02-28T09:32:00.000-08:00

Last night I stood at the back of the ferry and watched the lights of Crete get smaller and smaller until I could no longer distinguish between the line that separated the black sea from the black sky. A man asked me if I wanted a cigarette, but I nodded my head with a slight smile and said “oxi, evharisto,” (no thanks). This was the first time that I responded in Greek to a Greek person, or at least for the first time naturally. I spent my whole time on the island struggling to not instinctively use English. The man was disappointed that I did not take his offer but politely smiled back and turned his head out towards the undecipherable line where the sky meets the sea. So did I. I wanted to cry. I even tried to force a tear but my eyes stayed dry in the sharp wind. I then wanted to shout out, I'm not sure what, but something meaningful. I only managed to quietly clear my throat. I figured by this point that there is nothing I can do or say that can express the remorse I felt when I realized that might not come back. I wish I could recount all the stories, paint all the colors, capture the landscape in more than a dingy photograph, trap in a jar the distinct scent of olive oil, goats and oranges in the mountain air, or even bring with me an old Greek man with an oversized white mustache, cap, shepard's staff, brown leathered hands like bear paws twiddling around some glass worry beads and loud booming voice tracing the heritage of every success of the modern world back to the Greeks. But I cannot do any of these things.
For now I sit on a cold bench in the ferry terminal waiting for Jon to get a rental car big enough to fit all of our luggage. And so the adventure in Italy begins.

2008-02-28T09:17:00.000-08:00

2008-02-28T09:07:00.000-08:00

On the beach where Zorba the Greek danced

2008-02-28T08:57:00.000-08:00

2008-02-22T04:24:00.000-08:00

2008-02-21T11:11:00.001-08:00

Cretan Storms A'brewin

2008-02-21T10:35:00.001-08:00

Stormy seas in Hania for the last week

the view from our balcony

the morning after

locked up in our cave,
waiting out the storm

cold, jobless and happy

2008-02-18T08:41:00.000-08:00

We woke up yesterday to snow. The heater in our room has been waging a valiant but loosing battle against the cold for the last few days. Greece was supposed to be warm. We are freezing. There is an upside though...We live right on the sea inside an old Venician fort and as we look out we can see the waves pounding the harbor and the coastline. When I came to Greece last time I only saw the Mediterranean in a calm and placid state. The stories of ship wrecks and violent storms in the Bible, like the type that shipwrecked Paul, seemed pretty unimaginable. I can see now why the sailors should have listened to Paul (Acts 27:21).

The TEFL course ended about a week ago. Laura and I have not found jobs yet. It has been impossible finding work in Greece at this time of year without the EU paperwork. We do have some solid leads elsewhere though. There is an American school in Florence, Italy, that hires Americans. We will be interviewing with them this week. They are looking for two teachers to fill six month positions. It would be a good situation for us as we could get our EU work permits there and then try to return to Greece with the right paperwork and some experience in time for the main hiring season. We are also looking in other parts of the world. We have job offers in Taiwan and some contacts in Korea. There are a lot of opportunities out there... though unfortunately none of them are in Greece.

On a different note, Laura and I have now been married for exactly one year... Its been a great year.

2008-02-18T08:06:00.001-08:00

On one of our daily walks we stumbled upon
a secret open door that led into the heart of the
fortress.. we walked in and here is what we found...

The fort (built in the 1200's) was used
by the Nazis to house Cretan prisoners
(including our landlord's father) during
world war two. This is a picture of one of
the many holding cells. The door led
directly into the back of one of these cells.

2008-02-12T08:18:00.001-08:00

2008-02-12T08:01:00.000-08:00

A night out

2008-02-11T05:12:00.000-08:00

Our TEFL course finished last Thursday. Since then it's been raining and storming in Hania. Laura and I have been cooped up in our little cave driving each other nuts. Our only friend left for good this morning with her boyfriend Niko. Last night we all went out to a restaurant on the harbor. It was dark and storming. We enjoyed watching the violently churning harbor and the spray of the waves that crashed against the sea wall as we sat on a covered patio eating our dinner about ten feet away. Halfway through dinner, the sea vomited up a dead chicken and deposited it about five feet away from us. At least that's what Niko and I thought. Laura and Despina thought it was a kitten carcass. It was hard to tell on such a dark and rainy night. Either way we were all disgusted (Niko almost threw up) and nobody touched their food for the next fifteen minuets until the wind proved us all wrong. It was a cleverly disguised plastic bag. With much relief we returned to our dinner of grilled octopus and calamari, sprinkled with olive oil, parsley and lemon.

2008-02-10T03:53:00.000-08:00

overlooking Xania at night

Despina and Niko

Laura, Jon, Despina, Niko

Despina and Laura
dancing in a local taverna

2008-02-10T03:11:00.000-08:00

2008-02-05T07:21:00.000-08:00

morning walk to school

wild olives

little village of Milia
tucked away in the mountains

Laura's kitty friend

ever wonder how olive oil is made?

Jon dipping his bread in the
purest olive oil on the planet

2008-01-29T01:38:00.000-08:00

Taman, a place where we dine in what
used to be the public bath of ancient Crete
chipmunks, or squirrels as they call 'em, the
"exotic" pets showcased in every well-rescpecting pet store

the fort walls still surround the old city

we found the bike,
now all we need is the sidecar

Laura was one of the lucky Greeks
who found a coin in her New Year's cake

sitting on the spiral stairs at school

our little cave lighthouse in our harbor

Jon teaching a class
of middle-age Greek women

Despina, our only friend

2008-01-28T10:38:00.000-08:00

water so clear you can see the discarded motorcycle at the bottom...

Typical Greek Priest

Traveling

2008-01-12T04:13:00.000-08:00

“ACH DU LIEBER!!!...” spat Fritz, the German metal detector agent, with obvious disgust in his eyes. I recognized that look, and as I stood there contemplating it, with my legs spread apart, waiting for Fritzes metal detection wand to prove my innocence, it came to me.. ahh yes... It was the same look that I saw in my guest mothers eyes as she kicked me out of her house the last time I was in Germany - “DU BIST RAUS!!!”... And it was eerily reminiscent of what I saw in the elderly German man's eyes when I had given a hearty belch in the line for beer at the beer garden - “DU SCHWEINE!!!” ... This time as my eyes followed the tip of Fritzes accusing pointer finger down it's length and across an imaginary one meter expanse, I realized what I had done this time to receive my dose of German scorn. Or rather what I had forgotten to do on completing my last trip to the restroom. And there it was for all to see.. I had thought it was a little drafty...

Our time in Germany was brief; limited to a few hours in the airport. I spent most of my time burying my face in a complementary newspaper and drinking a complementary cup of coffee handed out by Lufthansa. I really like Lufthansa and Germans. I'm not sure Laura feels the same way. She spent most of her time trying to sleep, curled up on a hard angular bench, which being designed for functional discomfort as only the Germans could, succeeded in its mission with supreme efficiency. By the time we finally made it to Crete we were very, very tired.

Cynthia picked us up from the airport. We spotted her holding a sign that said “John and Laura”. I've always wondered what type of people get their own greeting signs at airports... now I know. It's not as special as I thought it would be. There is much more to write, so much more of the adventure yet to tell. I want to write in depth about how Cynthia abandoned us to the mercy of the locals, how we got yelled at (Laura for the first time ever, me for the second) by a random Greek lady, how we met our first friends here and how they gave us our first real bit of discouraging news and how simply awesome Crete and our place is (how it looks like it's straight out of the Pirates of the Caribbeans ride in Disneyland), but I need to stop now. Here are a few pictures though that might better illustrate what it's been like so far...

By the way, we have a cell-phone. We would love to hear from you if you can figure out how to call Greece from America. Also, remember that Crete is 10 hours ahead of L.A. The number is: 6942807499

Laura's Feline Friends outside our window

Inside our apartment looking out

one of many dogs

at the beach

the alley on which we live, we're at the end

morning on top of the old fort

view of the city

the beach

Landing in Crete

2008-01-11T10:35:00.000-08:00

This one will be quick... one hour costs 2 euros ($3) in an internet cafe. But if we don't start posting now, I don't think we ever will. Here are a few pictures.

2007-12-14T16:52:00.000-08:00

the waiting is the hardest part...