Friday Flashback: Aloha, Oy Vey!!!!

As a little added incentive to lose the weight I gained in Chicago last week, I'm posting a picture from November, 1997 when Mrs. TBF and I celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary with a two-week Hawai'ian vacation.

TBF's weight at the start of the vacation: 250 lbs./113.6 kilos.

TBF's weight at the end of the two-week vacation: 270 lbs./122.7 kilos.

DAMN those buffet breakfasts, Thanksgiving buffets, and luaus!!! Sure, it all tasted great (except for the Bud Light which was the only beer available and is, in my opinion, the worst beer of all time!...but I drank it anyway!), but it wasn't worth the IBS, indigestion, profuse sweating, sore feet, and sore knees. Would you just look at those chubby cheeks, and the amount of food on my plate???

I eventually topped out at 275 lbs./125 kilos before I dropped back to 250 lbs. - where I remained for many years. Now, I generally keep my weight under 215 lbs. (except for little lapses here and there when we travel).

It's hard for me to look at these old pictures, because I just can't believe that I let myself go like this. Sad!

Ate - 8 - 8!

Here are a few reasons why I gained just over 8 POUNDS (4 kilos) IN 8 DAYS during last week's visit to Chicago. I'm not really too concerned because I anticipated the gorgefest by leaving for Chicago five pounds under my goal weight.

Yeah, I guess eight pounds sounds like a lot of weight to gain in a short amount of time. However, it still doesn't come anywhere near my personal weight gain record of 20 POUNDS IN 2 WEEKS in November, 1997 when Mrs. TBF and I celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary in Hawai'i. Damn those breakfast buffets!

Now that I'm thinking about it, I guess I did consume quite a few high calorie goodies during my trip, including: ribs, bacon-cheddar hamburgers, combo sandwich, french fries, deep-fried mushrooms, fried calamari, liver and onions, Chicago hot dog (no ketchup, of course!), chips, Doritos, Fritos, polish sausage with grilled onions, trick or treat candy, ribeye steak smothered in gorgonzola cheese, Dunkin' Donuts buttermilk donut, chile rellenos, corned beef hash, beef brisket sandwich, sushi, pot roast, pizza...I'm sure I'm forgetting some things...but, you get the picture.

I'm thinking that the cold weather in Chicago triggered some kind of instinct to add an insulating layer of blubber, because...I'M A MAMMAL DAMMIT!!! Hmmmm...I also decided to begin growing a winter beard on my last day there...I guess there's more to this mammalian instinct than I thought.

Anyway, we fortunately have this modern invention at our apartment here in Basel known as radiant heat. Therefore, I'm thinking that the blubber layer is unnecessary, and (hoping) that I'll be back down to fighting weight in the next couple of weeks or so. Although, it's going to be a bit of a challenge seeing that we're going to friends' houses for dinner tonight, tommorow night, and...we're going to Paris for a couple of nights next weekend.

Yes, the blubber's going to come off, but the beard is going to stay. The razor is getting a break for a few months, but I'm needing to make "happy time" with the elliptical trainer this coming week!

Colon Blow And Borat: Separated At Birth?

I just read about Sal's dad bearing an uncanny resemblance to Borat at Sal's VTB. Sure, there's some resemblance there. But, what about a twenty-something Colon Blow and Borat? Huh...HUH? Whaddya think?

Oh...and Colon Blow...how about updating the blog one of these months?

Meet The Bloggers World Tour 2006: Michael

Here's the latest chapter in my never-ending effort to meet my fellow bloggers. I can now add Michael to the list of ten (not including Mrs. TBF) bloggers that I have met face to face. Ok...OK...I knew some of these bloggers before we were all bloggers, but I'm stickin' with ten...

Michael and I met at a Mexican restaurant called Cesar's which is located at Clark and Belmont in the heart of the city. I enjoyed a small Margarita which was huge by Swiss standards, some chile rellenos, and we made two hours of "happy time". I say "happy time" because the Borat movie opened in Chicago the night before, and that's what Borat would say. We even did a Borat-pose for our picture.

My visit with Michael was short but sweet. I'm sure we'll get together at some point in the not-too-distant future. Mrs. TBF is really jealous that I met Michael before she did, and now she wants to meet Michael too.

Amateur Mistake...

I think I've made close to 15 trips back to Chicago since we moved to Basel in 2000, and you'd think I'd be an expert by now. But, NO! I made the ultimate "rookie" mistake this evening - I fell asleep on the sofa at about 8:00 p.m., and woke up (with the TV remote control in my hand...hey, I'm a guy!) at 11:00 p.m. Now...I'm sitting here in the wee hours watching a replay of the 2006 MTV Europe Music Awards not feeling the least bit tired.

My Chicago/London/Basel trip went well in that the flights were on time, the lines for security weren't too bad, etc. Despite the fact that I didn't get my business class upgrade, AND ended up sitting next to a complete "nut ball", I managed to squeeze in a good three hours of shut eye on the overseas flight.

"Nutball" was a talker. I knew it the moment I laid my eyes on him. Remember, I was in sales for fifteen years, so I think I'm pretty good at getting an instant read on people. My iPod was on, and my earbuds were in when I took my seat. I greeted him, and then I proceeded to ignore him despite his best efforts to make me his "BFF". He'd say something to me, and I'd pretty much pretend that I couldn't hear him even though I really could. I know, I'm an ass, but I don't care. I didn't feel like speaking to anybody, and that was my right.

At one point, I had to take my earbuds out in order to speak with the flight attendant during beverage service. As I ordered my TWO gin and tonics ($10 in economy???), "Nutball" did his best to engage me in conversation. He's 60ish, an attorney, this was his eleventh trip to London, he's from Kansas City, etc., etc. He had a BOOMING voice, kind of a hillbilly accent, and...worst of all...he was a "close-talker". I was cranky from not getting my upgrade and my lingering cold, and this guy just couldn't take the hint that I didn't feel like talking, so...I just put my earbuds back in and just ignored him while he was in mid-sentence. I figured that he'd think I was an A-hole and just leave me alone, But...NO!

Fifteen minutes later, when the gin was beginning to work it's magic, I was just sitting back with my eyes closed listening to my music, when I suddenly had this sensation that I was being watched. I opened my eyes, and...I'm not kidding..."Nutball's" face was about six inches away from mine, he was pointing at the iPod Shuffle hanging from my neck, and his voice BOOMED: "What the Hay-ell is that thang?" I just said, "iPod" and continued to ignore him.

Periodically, I'd hear "Nutball" mutter something to himself, grunt, blurt out something to the flight attendant or a random passenger walking to the lavatory, etc. He'd fidget, bump me occasionally (I think it was intentional), but I still managed to sleep for several hours.

At one point, I woke up, and "nature" called. I glanced over at "Nutball" and he appeared to be sleeping (with his blanket completely over his head), so I figured that the coast was clear. After I came out of the lavatory (do NOT go in there!), I looked toward my seat. What did I see? "Nutball" was in the aisle stretching and...doing tai chi moves. He saw me coming back, he climbed into his window seat, he inhaled as if he was going to say something, I put my earbuds back into my ears, turned my back toward him, and ignored him.

I think the only other thing I said to him was "...have a nice time in London" as I was walking off the plane.

Why me? WHY ME?

Catching The Worm...

I've been waking up kind of early every morning during this trip to Chicago, which is OK by me. This morning, I woke up at Dave and Shannon's house...next to their dog Ari...at 3:00 a.m. I stuck my fingers in his ears, scratched them until there was sufficient doggy ear wax on my fingers, and then let him lick my fingers like I used to do with Dominique (dogs LOVE that!). Both content, we fell back to sleep and I didn't wake up again until 6:00 a.m. when I got up and let Ari out into the backyard for his morning business. Coming here and sharing a bed with Ari is nice (Dave, Shannon, and the kids aren't bad either...). I look forward to it. However, I have to say...

Mrs. TBF: Don't get too excited. I'm not ready to get another dog...yet.

The trip has been going well. I've seen a lot of friends and relatives, a combo sammich has been consumed, my first U.S. steak of the trip was inhaled last night, some new clothes have been purchased, etc.

I'm in the actual city of Chicago right now about one mile west of Wrigley Field (home of the Chicago Cubs baseball team for those of you who don't follow American sports). This afternoon, I'm going to drive a couple of miles to meet up with...well, it's a surprise. This evening...dinner at Hooter's with my sister and her family. I go there for the wings....HONEST!

Mrs. TBF has returned from Kuala Lumpur, and she's back in Basel. Tomorrow morning, she leaves for the U.S. We'll be on the same continent again, but our paths will not cross. I'll arrive back in Basel on Wednesday, and she'll arrive back in Basel on Thursday. I wish she was here.

In the meantime, I'm snuggling with Ari, and Mrs. TBF is snuggling with King. I guess that'll have to do for now.

Burning The Candle At Both Ends...

I'm in Chicago. Actually, I'm at my sister's house in Barrington, Illinois. As you can see from the time, I woke up kind of early this morning (4:40 a.m. to be exact). Since I made it last night to the end of Monday Night Football and didn't go to sleep until about 11:00 p.m., I thought I'd sleep-in a bit later than I did. I guess it wasn't to be.

Our trip from Basel to Chicago went like clockwork. I say "our" because I flew here with my parents. Mrs. TBF dropped us all off at Basel Airport for a 7:00 a.m. flight to London, and then she went home to prepare for her own flight to Kuala Lumpur. We're pretty far apart right now, and I don't like it.

We flew American Airlines from London to Chicago. I was a little concerned while I was in the departure area; not only because I was flying in coach, but also because I was concerned that I'd be seated next to one of the many grossly overweight people that I saw waiting with me for the flight. My parents had the two seats side by side on one side of the aisle, and then I had the aisle seat across from them in the section of five seats. Fortunately, there was no need for concern because the only people in my section were me on the aisle, and an old man four seats away. I had room to stretch out, and I slept for about 90 minutes during the flight (thank you gin & tonic and French wine) - a rarity for me on a flight from Europe to the U.S. Oh...and before you go saying what a good son I am for having chosen to fly with my parents in economy class: I pretty much listened to the iPod, read, and...ignored them for most of the trip. I know...I'm a jerk!

Let me clear my head of jet lag, and I'll post some things here and there during the week. I'm not using my own computer, so I'll probably not post any pictures until I get back to Basel.

Friday...Ummm...Saturday Flashback: Boo!

Trick or treat!!!!!!

Back in 1965, my mom decided that a bunny outfit would be the perfect Halloween costume for me. Oh, the horror! Dad: Couldn't you have stepped in and demanded a more masculine costume? It's amazing that I made it through that Halloween without a lifetime's worth of emotional scarring. And, look at the size of that trick or treat bag. How much candy/sugar would that thing hold? I'm thinking about ten pounds worth. The fact that I overcame that sugar overload and ended up with good teeth must be a miracle of a combination of genetics, good oral hygiene, and self-discipline.

I'll be leaving for Chicago with my parents this Monday morning which means I'll get to see my nieces' and nephew's Halloween costumes in person. I'm going to have to check out upon arrival how my nephew's dressing up for Halloween.

If there's any hint of androgyny...I'm hopping...umm..stepping in!

Nothing Hits The Spot Like...

...pork knee.

After wandering around Prague semi-aimlessly for hours, we needed some food. When I told the hotel concierge that I wanted to eat some "real" Czech food, he pointed down the street and told us to walk about 200 meters to a place called Bredovsky dvur. Heck...he hadn't steered us wrong the night before, so we took his advice once again.

The verdict? Bredovsky dvur = carnivore nirvana!

I could go on forever about how much I enjoyed my pig knee meal. I really could! However, I'll just let the pictures do the talking.

The next morning, I woke up with the taste of pig knee in my mouth, showered, and then...we made our way down, once again, to the buffet breakfast. After breakfast, we checked out of the hotel and hopped into the car for the return trip to the airport. I think we all smelled of garlic.

How Czech of us!

Prague: Our Dogs Were Barkin'...

Three essentials in Prague: a good breakfast for energy, a good map for navigating the twisting and turning streets, and a good pair of walking shoes. Let me tell you - we walked...for hours...on cobblestones...up and down stairs...

Despite the unpronounceable street names, we managed to navigate Prague fairly easily - thank you very much - and I think I only got us lost one time (yes, I'm a man and I refused to ask for directions...).

Sure the architecture is impressive...but look at those damn sewer hole covers! Now that's something you don't see in the tour books!!! Hey...what the heck were those passers-by staring at? Can't we admire sewer hole covers in private?

We checked out the shops, stopped for a drink and a snack at a tiny restaurant, climbed a zillion steps up to the castle where we took in the scenic (albeit a little hazy) view, and then crossed the Charles Bridge. I was amazed at the huge number of tourists. My God...what is it like during the peak summer tourist months?

A lot of calories were burned walking around that Saturday afternoon. It was time to refuel...

There's Something Very Comforting...

...about a hotel that devotes an entire floor to breakfast. I slept like a baby having gone to bed knowing that in a few hours breakfast would be prepared directly under us as we slept on the 3rd floor.

As you probably already know, there are very few things that give me more pleasure in life than hotel buffet breakfasts. You can keep your yogurt, fruit, and all the other healthy things that normally start off my eating day. When we travel, I'm looking for the creamy scrambled eggs, sausages, pancakes, lox, pasta, chicken, and...most importantly...bacon.

If I owned Hotel Palace Praha, I would just name the second floor...BACON!!!!

Prague: We Have Returned...

I was in Prague six months ago. Mrs. TBF was in Prague a couple of years ago for a meeting. My mother? This was her first time in Prague.

We arrived in Prague early on Friday afternoon. During our flight, I proposed a little competition: Who would be the first person to smell garlic breath/B.O.?

Let me explain...

The last time I was in Prague, I noticed that many Czechs had an overwhelming, although not totally unpleasant, odor of garlic emanating from their beings. This trip would not disappoint... We walked through Customs, saw the man holding the "Mr. & Mrs. TBF" sign, followed him to his car, and climbed in. After he climbed behind the wheel, my mom immediately said "valko sipuli". "Mitä?" (What?), I said. Mrs. TBF chimed in with a "knoblauch" (garlic in German). A split second later, the smell of garlic slapped me in the face. Mom and Mrs. TBF had won the garlic-smelling competition.

About thirty minutes later, we arrived at our hotel. The outside of the hotel was ever-so-slightly dingy. However, the inside did not disappoint. We had ordered an extra bed in our room for my mom, but the hotel had upgraded us to adjoining rooms. Nice!

Unfortunately, Mrs. TBF had a conference call for work in which she had to participate. I won't post a picture of her on her conference call. Let's just say that I'll add them to my personal collection of vacation/conference call pictures I have from Paris...Helsinki...etc... Since Mrs. TBF was going to be busy for a couple of hours, my mom and I set off on foot.

We walked to the main square in old town, checked out the fantastic sights, and then slogged on to the Charles Bridge. After a quick snack, we made our way back to the hotel.

I was excited to find out, when we made it back to our room, that Mrs. TBF was done with her conference call. After enjoying our complimentary "Welcome" drinks in the bar, we made the five-minute walk to a restaurant - Restaurant Zvonice - the concierge had recommended for dinner.

Zvonice was nice. It was on the eighth floor of a bell tower, and the restaurant itself is in the actual belfry. I snapped this picture of Mom and Mrs. TBF. Come on! You can do better than that! Look like you're having fun! That's better...

Blitzblogging...

My parents arrived one week ago today, and I haven't really been making time to blog. I'll try to squeeze some blogging in a little bit later today.

My dad left for Finland last Thursday for a few days of visiting relatives. He returns to Basel tonight. Last weekend, my mom, Mrs. TBF, and I took a weekend trip to Prague.

More words and pictures...later.

Ish Ya Berfday...

Lots o' special days to celebrate in TBF world right now...

Yesterday:

My MOM turned 60-something. She and my dad are on their way to Basel right now as I type. American Airlines called my sister's house just before they were all set to leave her house for the airport at 1:00 p.m. in order to catch a 4:55 flight from O'Hare to London. The flight ended up being changed to 8:00 p.m., so they'll be here at 4:20 this afternoon instead of 11:15 this morning. I slept until 9:00 a.m., and I feel good. They won't!

JOHN turned fiddy something. Yes John, it was YOUR birthday yesterday. Sorry, majority rules!

DIANA and COLM (sister and bro-in-law) celebrated their 14th wedding anniversary. DAMN! We buy gifts for each other for 5-year celebrations which means we have to buy them an anniversary gift next year. Now that I think about it, my sister turns forty this December...which means I have to buy her a gift this December...DOH!

THE JEEP was purchase seven years ago yesterday, and its not looking too shabby since it barely has over 40,000 miles on it.


Today:

Jo the mom-in-law turns 70-something today. She's not looking too shabby either!


GETTIN' OLD! Um...the Jeep, that is.

updated later: I just saw that it's Kirk and Gretchen's anniversary TODAY! Too much excitement for TBF. Something's gotta go...I guess I'll have to get rid of the Jeep!

Friday Flashback: Meet The Parents Edition...

We're going WAAAAAAY back for this week's Friday Flashback - back to 1966, to be exact.

This picture was taken during a family summer vacation in Finland. My dad, sporting an Elvis-like hairdo, is doing the typical not-looking-at-the-camera picture pose that Finns tend to do. Why didn't I end up with hair like that??? I think I was already balding in this picture!

Speaking of hair, I know my mom is not going to be happy that I posted this picture because of the (shall we say?) frazzled look of her hair. However, we have to cut her some slack because she was about four-months pregnant with my sister in this picture and had probably been napping in the car with the window open when my dad decided that a photo stop was necessary.

There are many unknowns: I don't know who took the picture, I don't know exactly where the picture was taken, and I don't know from whom we borrowed the car (are those "suicide" doors?). What I do know is that I was a couple of months shy of four-years-old, and I was already over half my father's height (5'11"/180 cm) and two-thirds of my mother's height (she's 5'7"/170 cm). Look at the size of my head as compared to my skinny body for God's sake. It's amazing that I was able to walk in an upright position.

I just happened upon this picture this past week while looking through a box of random photos. I'm not really sure why I have this old photo (most of the old photos are at my parents' house), but it was a timely discovery because it celebrates the fact that my parents will be arriving in Basel on Tuesday for a two-week stay. They haven't been here since February, 2003.

What's on the agenda? You'll just have to wait and see...

Injun Summer...

Apparently the Chicago Tribune no longer publishes the poem and this illustration called "Injun Summer" by John T. McCutcheon every year because some readers felt that it "advocated the genocide of Native Americans and other minorities..." (you can read about it here if you feel like it). WTF???? Does everything always have to be so politically correct? Sheesh!

Anyway, the past few days have been really nice (hence, the lack of posts) and about as close to Indian Summer as it's going to get around here - temperatures of 21˚C/70˚F and mostly sunny. As far as I'm concerned, Indian Summer means any "warm" days after the first frost. We haven't had frost here yet, but I doubt we'll have any warm days after the first frost here, so I'm celebrating Redskin...oops...Indian Summer right now.

Yes, the nights are suddenly "fresh" as the Swiss call it, local restaurants are serving wild game (I had some wild boar filet last night), we've visited the local pumpkin farm, and the leaves are changing color. Fall is definitely here!

One thing I've noticed here in Basel is a definite lack of red leaves during the fall. There's a lot of yellow and brown, some orange, but hardly any red in the local fall landscape. Maybe the reason is that one doesn't see too many maple trees around here. Who knows? However, I decided to tackle the lack of red issue by taking matters into my own hands this afternoon with a visit to the local nursery.

I knew what I was looking for, and with the help of one of the local nursery employees, I found it - Euonymus alatus (a.k.a. the Burning Bush). It was a beautiful, reasonably priced, 15-year old specimen, which was good because it was the only one they had. I went inside and paid, pulled the Jeep around to the gate, and loaded the bush into the Jeep by myself while the nursery employee stood there watching me struggle...all the while telling me what a great bush it is. Ummm...thanks for the help...wouldn't want you to get your hands dirty.

Getting it out of the Jeep was a bit of an ordeal, as was cramming it into the elevator, and carrying it up the final spiral staircase that leads to "the fishbowl". Then, I had to go back and sweep up a trail of a zillion tiny little red leaves stretching from our garage up to the roof. By the time I finally got to sit down and enjoy the stinkin' bush, I was sweating like pig!

Jeez, that was a bitch! Damn this Indian Summer! Winter...bring it on!

Friday Flashback: October 6, 2000...

Yes friends, it's been six years....SIX FREAKIN' YEARS!!!...since I landed in Switzerland with Dominique and King and joined Mrs. TBF (who had arrived in mid-July) for our Swiss adventure. Although I wrote about it last year, what I didn't do was include pictures. So for your viewing pleasure (sorry about the blurriness...they're scanned), here are a couple of pictures.

The first picture was actually taken by The Medium Swede in the driveway of our old house on October 5th just before we left for the airport. King (you can see his glowing eye between the girls' heads) was already packed in his crate, and I was saying goodbye to my (VERY pregnant with Finn) sister Diana, and a very sad looking Kiera and Fiona. I tried to get Dominique to pose, but she was too excited about going for a ride. Little did she know what the next twelve hours would hold in store for her. Since the picture makes me feel sad, I don't really like to look at it too often.



This second picture was taken six years ago today, and it is the first picture ever taken at our house in Reinach. Our furniture hadn't arrived yet, so we ate sausages and tomato/mozzarella salad off of paper plates. An upside down cardboard box was our dinner table which Mrs. TBF had decorated with some votive candles on a paper plate. Dominique, the airplane ride already a distant memory, was 100% focused on my sausages while King, semi-traumatized by the trip, was hiding in the basement behind the water heater. Yes, we had no furniture...but we had a Swiffer dammit!! I'm not really sure what was going on with the unzipped fleece/Tom Jones look. Perhaps being so close to Mrs. TBF after being apart for so long was making me warm, or maybe it was from the constant struggle of keeping Dominique from snarfing up my sausages in one gulp - who knows? It's all one big hazy memory. I was exhausted from all the last minute stuff one has to do when moving overseas, and I was delirious from jet lag.

We originally thought we'd be in Switzerland for two to three years and then return to Chicago. We never would have guessed that we'd be here for six years. How much longer will we be in Switzerland? Where will we go next? We don't really know. However, I'll tell you one thing (and I've already told Mrs. TBF)...

We're beginning our seventh year in Switzerland...and I'm beginning to itch!

Total Clarity...

I now realize why I've been disappointed lately by the food at fancy, gourmet restaurants. It's because Mrs. TBF is such a great cook, and her cooking is the standard by which I compare all other cuisine.

She came home Saturday morning from a three-day trip to the U.S. If it had been me, I would have been totally jet-lagged for at least...oh...three days. Mrs. TBF? Nope! She asked me what I wanted for dinner, she prepared a shopping list, and off into town we went...

Sure, Mrs. TBF had a short afternoon nap after we returned home, but by 8:00 we were sitting down to a great cioppino dinner. As per usual, I felt something rubbing my leg.

For the record: King likes cioppino too.

Going Solo...

Since Mrs. TBF was out of town, I tagged along with Corey, Suzanne, John, and Rammy as "the fifth wheel" for the "Vega Scilia Wine & Dine" at the Restaurant Bruderholz this past Friday night.

Am I jaded, or what?

Once again, I left a restaurant (this one is considered one of the best in Basel) thinking that the food did not meet my expectations. Was it due to the fact that it was a rather large group and we were served banquet style? ...not sure. Maybe I'll need to go back with Mrs. TBF someday (it's only five minutes away from our apartment) and give the "real" menu a try. However, my first impression of this restaurant was one of mediocrity.

I did, however, have a really good time even though I was without my better half. The five of us ended up sitting at a table with a Swiss couple with whom we chatted away (fortunately, for us, in English) for hours. I had my first taste of wild (game) this fall, listened to a Spanish lady from Bodegas Vega Scilia speak in German about the various wines, watched with some amusement as a Swiss lady semi-heckled her about previous not-so-great experiences with the wine, and then proceeded to enjoy said wines (but not enough to actually buy any of them).

After dinner was over, the five of us made the five minute walk over to John and Rammy's house where we enjoyed more wine and - after I pointed out that I was still hungry - a bit of cheese.

At the stroke of midnight, I snapped this picture of Corey and John. Guess which one wishes to be reincarnated as an Italian man?

Needin' Some Translation Help...

I found an advertising flier in our mailbox a few days ago - it was for an Oktoberfest that took place yesterday at a restaurant in Binningen.

The thought of an Oktoberfest is very appealing to me. However, since most of the words were in Swiss-German, I found that I was only able to understand the fact that it actually was an Oktoberfest, the date and time, and the location. My German dictionary was no help whatsoever.

So, could somebody (maybe Canadian-Swiss?) please tell me what the following words mean?

Guggemuusig
Horburgschlurbi
Spanferkel
Baggemugge
Miggelischränzer
Nachtwandler
Quätschkomode

I'm noticing a definite absence of any words that look like "beer" and "sausages". Maybe that's why the place seemed a bit dead as Mrs. TBF and I passed by on the No. 10 tram late yesterday afternoon.

...2+ years of German lessons. What was the point of that?

The Lazy Man's Friday Flashback

I blew my blogging wad on Stockholm, and now I'm not in the mood to do a "real" Friday Flashback. Ergo, I'm going to just do a recap of the week.

Monday: Nothing of any interest whatsoever happened. Next...

Tuesday: I drove Mrs. TBF to Basel Airport where she boarded a flight to Newark via Frankfurt. This picture was taken on the non-EasyJet side of the airport - a ghost town when compared to the EasyJet side of the airport.

Wednesday: After returning from dropping off Mrs. TBF the day before, I e-mailed Barry of The Swiss Job to see if he wanted to get together for a drink. We agreed on meeting this evening at Paddy Reilly's Irish Pub in Basel for a couple of pints of Guinness. He's a good "kid", and I've decided that I'm going to refer to him as "da Kid" from now on since I came to realize while we were talking that I was 17 years old when "da Kid" was born.

Gettin' old!

We decided to grab a bite to eat after our pints, and we ambled on over to Gifthüttli - which is one of my favorite local joints - for a little grub. I hadn't been there for awhile, and it was nice having their Basler Art (veal cordon bleu, stuffed with foie gras, dipped in egg, and pan fried) for the first time in ages. Unfortunately, I forgot about the fact that I had my camera on my belt. So, there are no pictures of the historic first meeting between TBF and "da Kid". However, I'm sure we'll get together again at some point soon when our ladies are in town.

Thursday: Tom, our old neighbor from Reinach, was in town. Tom moved back to the U.S. a couple of years ago, but he comes to Basel several times per year on business. We decided to walk over to a local restaurant that I've never been to before but had passed a zillion times in the car - Restaurant Basilicum.

Mrs. TBF and I almost went to Basilicum a couple of years ago with a group of friends. However, our neighbor (Suzanne) did a walk-by to scope it out, and "...didn't like how it looked", so we ended up going somewhere else for dinner. As far as Tom and I were concerned, the restaurant fit the bill: open and serving food. So we went...

And, the verdict? VERY GOOD. Nothing fancy, but the food was really tasty and reasonably priced. Unfortunately, the only customers in the restaurant at 8:00 were Tom and I, and then a couple came in about 20 minutes later. That was it. So, if you local Basel people want to try a good restaurant, I'd recommend Restaurant Basilicum which is across the street from the Bottmingen Coop at tram station Batteriestrasse (Line 10 & 17). They could use the business!

After dinner, we walked back home, grabbed a couple of glasses of whiskey, and went up to "the fishbowl" where we enjoyed the first rooftop fire of the fall. It was a nice, clear evening, and we talked until well past midnight.

Friday: This morning, I dropped Tom off at Basel Airport, and then returned home for an intense blogging session. It's now time to go to the gym, and then I'm going out for a dinner/wine tasting with some friends at Restaurant Bruderholz later this evening.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Stockholm: Hey då

Sunday came, and it was time to go back home. We checked out of our hotel, asked them to store our bags, asked the concierge for a restaurant recommendation for lunch, and set about enjoying our last few hours in Stockholm. It was about 10:30 a.m., and we had to be back at the hotel by 2:30 in order to grab a taxi to the airport.

The concierge recommended a couple of restaurants. One of the restaurants was close to where we had eaten lunch the day before, so we took off in that direction. Since we figured that the restaurant probably didn't open until 11:30, we stopped for a much needed coffee along the way.

11:30? Wrong!

We found out that many restaurants in Stockholm don't open for lunch until 1:00. So, we took off in the direction of the second restaurant (the first one didn't really appeal to us) and stopped for another coffee.

While enjoying our coffee, we kind of discussed our experiences during the past few days. Here's what we determined:

We could live in Stockholm. It's a pretty city, Swedes are definitely friendlier than the Swiss, but the high taxes are a bit of a turn-off. Mrs. TBF said that I'd probably have a different opinion if I had had to endure five days of dreary weather instead of brilliant sunshine.

I found Stockholm to be not as clean as I had expected. Don't get me wrong...it's very clean by international city standards. However, I didn't find it to be as clean as Basel or several of the other Swiss cities I've visited.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Eating in Stockholm is VERY expensive. I guess you could swing it as a tourist on a limited budget, but you'd be eating fast food or just grabbing a sandwich at a small shop. The hotels are comparable to Switzerland...which makes them expensive when compared to other European cities.

Swedes smoke WAY less than the Swiss. You rarely smell cigarette smoke in Stockholm. You don't go home after eating at a restaurant with your clothes smelling like smoke.

Restaurants are expensive, but the bus and boat tours seem fairly reasonable. Strange.

Swedes look different than Finns. I can't describe it. They just look different. And, you can instantly tell when you're in a place that is frequented by locals. The people suddenly just look...well...Swedish.

Stockholm vs. Helsinki: I liked Stockholm's old town and the bridges. I like Helsinki's Esplanade. The service in restaurants is about the same in both cities - somewhere between unenthusiastic Swiss service and intrusive American service. Helsinki seems a bit cheaper. You don't see drunks staggering around the street in Stockholm (didn't see even one) like you do in Helsinki. It's kind of a toss up. Where would I rather live? Probably Helsinki since I speak Finnish. However, EVERYBODY in Stockholm (as well as Helsinki) speaks English. And, they speak it very well. You could easily get by living in either city without speaking the native language.

So, anyway, there you have it. We waited with a bunch of other people for Sture Hof to open. The doors opened at precisely 1:00, and the restaurant was nearly full by 1:10. We ordered our food within minutes of being seated, and then settled down to what we hoped would be a good meal.

It was.

Mrs. TBF and I both had nice starters. Mine was a herring plate that I elected to pair up with some aquavit with a beer chaser. I read in my guide book that it's a very Swedish thing to do. Plus I saw a couple of other guys order the same thing.

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.....smooth! Warning: aquavit is STRONG stuff!

We kind of had to rush it a bit, but Mrs. TBF enjoyed her fish, and I enjoyed my brisket. Why can't we have brisket in Switzerland? I want brisket (along with a gourmet food hall and 7-Eleven) in Basel NOW!!! After settling the bill, we walked at a brisk pace back to the hotel, grabbed our bags, jumped into a taxi, and were whisked away to the airport.

Our visit to Stockholm had come to an end. Although it was a good five days, I was happy to be going home. I definitely left Stockholm with a good taste in my mouth.

Or...maybe it was the herring, aquavit, and brisket.

Stockholm: The Scream...

By Saturday evening, four solid days of sluta löpa gatlopp had turned my brain to mush. At least Mrs. TBF was alert enough to photograph my Edvard Munch (yes...I know he's Norwegian) moment.

I'm thinking of making this my new profile picture. Mrs. TBF is against it. What do you think?

Stockholm: Beauty And The Beast...

Mrs. TBF and I were walking up Slottsbacken next to the Royal Palace. It was a beautiful Saturday early afternoon - blue sky, warm sun, cool breeze...perfect! I walked a few steps in front of Mrs. TBF, got the camera ready, wheeled around...SNAP!

Beauty.


Mrs. TBF asked me for the camera just as a band came marching up the street. "Stand there..." she said. I stood, and waited...and waited...and waited. "What the hell's the hold up...?", I asked. "I'm waiting for the band to be in the picture...", she replied. "Just take the picture already...", I said impatiently. Snap!

Beast!

Mrs. TBF thinks: Oh, oh...low blood sugar. We must find a restaurant now!

Stockholm: T.G.I.F.

As I mentioned before, Mrs. TBF's meetings in Stockholm took place at the Sheraton. So, that's where we stayed during the week. The Sheraton is rated as a 5-star hotel, but I'd say it's more like a 3-star hotel. Neither one of us really liked it - not very clean, the service wasn't very good, the food needs some help, etc. Suffice it to say that we were very happy with the fact that we had decided in advance to switch to the Grand Hotel for the weekend.

I arrived first with the bags, and then Mrs. TBF arrived about an hour later and unpacked her stuff. Although I had enjoyed exploring Stockholm with Mark, I was looking forward to exploring more of Stockholm with Mrs. TBF. Also, unlike Mark, Mrs. TBF always carrys a large bag with her when we travel which means that I don't have to carry my own stuff (sunglasses, map, guidebook, etc.). TBF likes to travel light...

It was already past 3:00 p.m., and neither one of us had eaten yet, so we decided to grab a late lunch. I thought Mrs. TBF would like a place called Lisa Elmqvist where Mark and I had eaten at the day before and really enjoyed. After a little faulty navigation by yours truly, Mrs. TBF and I finally made it to the restaurant which is located in the Östermalms Saluhall where we stuffed ourselves full of some really nice fish. No shock here...it was expensive, but very good. I'd recommend it. The restaurant is located in a gourmet food hall which is a little off the beaten tourist track, and we were surrounded by counters where locals where buying all sorts of great fish, meats, cheeses, etc. Why can't we have a place like this in Basel? I want a gourmet food hall and a 7-Eleven in Basel...NOW! Oh...and look who we ran into at the hall: Lisa and Mark (he had obviously spent to much time with TBF). Great minds think alike!

After our late lunch, we waddled back to the hotel where Mrs. TBF took a nap (work is exhausting), and I decided to switch on the TV - something I rarely do when we travel. One thing I really liked in Stockholm was that they have a Finnish TV channel. I just had a grand old time watching "my people" on the tube. Imagine my shock when suddenly my twin brother - Äbner's - show came on. If that wasn't amazing enough, I was absoluted stunned when I saw that he had a Japanese woman on his show who spoke perfect, unaccented Finnish. I know things are different now, but when I was growing up only people who looked Finnish spoke Finnish. This woman was a foreign exchange student who spent a year in Finland when she was in her teens. She returned to Japan, but she missed Finland and decided to return permanently. She spoke Finnish better than me for God's sake. (Note to self: I have to do something about that neck flab!)

Still feeling a bit sated, we walked over to Operakällaren for our 9:00 p.m. dinner reservation. We read about this restaurant, along with our hotel, in our 1,000 Places To See Before You Die book. We went with some pretty high expectations, and I have to admit that I ended up being ever so slightly disappointed. The room, described in the book as "...the city's most theatrical venue for an evening's repast, featuring plush Oriental rugs, carved oak wall and ceiling panels, once-risqué murals, extravagant crystal chandeliers..." was great. However, the service and food were only above average, and certainly (at least in my opinion) not reflective of the astronomically high prices. I'm not going to say what we paid for our meal, but suffice it to say that it was significantly higher than the $85 per person as referenced in our book ($85/person barely covered the wine). I'm glad we went and experienced it, but I wouldn't go back if I returned to Stockholm. I think I'm done going to these super fancy restaurants without a recommendation from somebody I know who's previously eaten there. You live and you learn.

But, hey...at least it gave me an excuse to wear a tie.

Stockholm: Tourists Beware...

I was duped.

Unbeknownst to me, and probably every other tourist in Stockholm, Sweden changed their money awhile back. If you look at the bills in the picture, you'll notice that the top bill has a silver stripe along the left border - that's the "new" bill. The old bill on the bottom did not have this stripe. My guess is that the stripe was introduced as an anti-counterfeiting measure. Whatever the reason, I came to find out that everybody had until last April to turn in their old bills for new ones at the bank.

So, guess who ended up with an old bill? Me, that's who. I found out when I was paying for some things at a 7-Eleven (Why don't we have 7-Elevens in Switzerland?) by the train station. The lady behind the counter said something to me in Swedish as I was paying, I looked at her with that I-have-no-idea-what-you-just-said look, and then she immediately switched to English. "I can not accept this bill..." she said, and the proceeded to explain why. I just handed her another bill, and I figured I'd unload it someplace else.

The next day, I went to the train station for a coffee (the coffee at the Sheraton was awful), and I tried to pay with the old bill. No dice! The coffee guy told me the background about having to turn all the old bills in at the bank last April, etc. He suggested I try Forex currency exchange, or a bank.

I went to Forex office at the train station, and I was advised by the lady that the only thing that can be done with the bill is to have it deposited in a bank account. However, the catch is that YOU HAVE TO BE A SWEDISH CITIZEN in order to do so. Foiled again! Now I was beginning to get a bit perturbed.

I went back to the Sheraton and explained the dilemma to the lady at the front desk. First, she told me that I should go back to the place that gave it to me and demand an exchange for a new bill. After telling her that I had probably spent money ten times the previous day, and that there was no way for me to know who had given me the old bill, she told me that I was pretty much stuck with a worthless bill. I even went so far as to ask her if she would exchange the bill for a new one since she was Swedish and could just deposit it into her bank account. "But...they will charge me a service fee..." was her response. It was precisely at that moment that I came up with a plan: I would pass the bill off as a tip. It would work....IT HAD TO WORK!!! The frugal Finn was percolating inside of me, and there was NO WAY I was eating 100 SEK/$10.77 U.S./13.69 Euros.

The next day (Friday), we moved to a different hotel for the last two nights of our trip. Mrs. TBF had one last meeting to attend, so I just took a taxi to the new hotel with our bags. Upon arrival at the hotel, a nice young man (who turned out to be Finnish), brought our bags up to our room. We spoke for a few minutes in Finnish, he wished me a pleasant stay, and then I unloaded that old bill...and my aggravation. I'm sure he thought it was a nice tip...until he saw that it was an old bill.

I hated doing it to a "Finnish brother", but...

Nah...who am I kidding? I didn't give a crap. It was his problem now.