Tsiknopempti, Rebels and Zakynthos

Today we will be flying to the Island of Zakynthos for a meeting.

The meeting is rather uninteresting to me, but the promise of discovering  a new Greek island, sounds too sweet.

Our flight departure is at 10 am with Olympic Air 'ways' (the 'ways' was cut when sold).

I am looking forward to this experience, as OA has recently been purchased (a state owned company it was up to its wings in dark clouds of debt) by the ever-buying MARFIN GROUP, a Greek company heavily fueled by the Dubai Dirham. Other notable recent inquiries by MARFIN include Vivartia (food production, 35th in Europe) and Attica (international ferry operator).

Marfin seems to owe a magic sack with an ever-replenishing gold supply.

Or maybe it is a golden donkey, much more appropriate for Greece.

That reminds me of a fairy-tale:

TABLE BE SET, GOLD DONKEY AND CUDGEL OUT OF THE SACK

By the Brothers Grimm

The second son had gone to a miller and had apprenticed himself to him. When his years were over, the master said, "As you have conducted yourself so well, I give you a donkey of a peculiar kind, which neither draws a cart nor carries a sack."

"What good is he then?" asked the young journeyman.

"He spews forth gold," answered the miller. "If you set him on a cloth and say 'Bricklebrit,' the good animal will spew forth gold pieces for you from back and front."

"That is a fine thing," said the journeyman, and thanked the master, and went out into the world. When he had need of gold, he had only to say "Bricklebrit" to his donkey, and it rained gold pieces, and he had nothing to do but pick them off the ground. Wherever he went, the best of everything was good enough for him, and the more expensive the better, for he had always a full purse. When he had looked about the world for some time, he thought, "You must seek out your father. If you go to him with the gold-donkey he will forget his anger, and receive you well."

Can I get a gold-donkey too???

The announcement of Marfin was strong and bold.

"ONASSIS TIMES RETURN TO THE GREEK SKIES..."

I love the sound of that promise, since my last memory of OA include an unpleasant war-painted stewardess with a serious attitude problem, filthy seats, smelly air, loud music, abundance of duck-tape, unusable toilets, uneatable food and a delay without an excuse or explanation.

My promise then: NEVER AGAIN.

But here I am. My promise versus Marfin's promise.

Who will be a winner?

Not that I have much choice. There is no other plane going to Zakynthos. My only other option would be a lengthy sea-journey, in a smokey ferry cabin and some suicidal roads in-between.

So OA it is.

I am also looking forward, to the newly designed uniforms. It was time for a change, as the old ensembles looked as tired as the planes. Interested myself in Airline fashion (I may be a uniform fetishist), I had even tried to participate in the online competition for the new crew outfits.

But,

I got rejected.

NO FASHIN DEGREE, was my answer.

As if one needs a degree for fashion.

You either have it or you don't. (or so i think)

So the winner of the "Fashion in the Greek skies" was famous Celia Kritharioti.

Renowned in Greek society for her sparkling evening gowns, she is also the designer of choice for the sweetest and most important moment of a woman's (GREECE) life:

THE ...

I had followed the competition with great anticipation, but was surprised to see an unfair gamble, when the 3 finalists where announced, displaying their work online for the public to vote. Only Ceilia showcased the wide collection required, from the summer dress to the winter coat to the rain hat. The other 2 participants had aired just a few ideas, but not the wide range of requested uniforms. I am not sure, but it all smelled like a set deal from the very 1. button!

Not that I mind, as Celia's work is lovely and her fashionable creations are very much in tune with that ONASSIS dream...

ONASSIS in the SKY... here we come...

 I love the blond touch...

Our check in is smooth and looks like I am liking the new OA already.

The girl at the counter is friendly, efficient and helpful. And she SMILES.

We get bused into the NEW plane (or so the advertisement goes) , but I learn, from ever-observing Prince, that the plane is far from new. It is a used one from FLYBE, a UK discount carrier.

Okay, not brand-new, but NEW TO OA.

Figure of speech.

The two flight attendants greet us with warm Smiles* and they look perfectly natural.

I am very impressed.

Good choice of team so far.

We get settled in our not-so-clean seats, with peeling stickers and overused cushion covers.

Time to admire those new uniforms. They look very cute and elegant and remind very much of a bygone area. Onassis seems a perfect match.

But my opinion changes tremendously, when the girls come closer and I see details. The quality is extremely poor and the dresses are sawn badly and hastily. It looks, to be frank, VERY CHEAP. The white line in the middle of the dress is so uneven, that I wonder if the seamstress was drunk or sawing on board a rolling ship. (I did read once about slave ships, where women are used to saw... no taxes at sea... could it be truth?)

Quality seems to be not part of the new OA concept, shame...

Poor Onassis must be turning in his grave now and never mind what detail- Queen Jackie is doing...

We are served water and Cola from plastic cups (not Onassis style either). Glass is Class!

Today, I am lucky enough to have secured a window seat, since Prince has to do some work on his laptop.

I am enjoying this privilege.

The views over the blessed land of Greece are stunning. The country is gifted by nature and it breaks my heart to know, how little is done, to protect this wonders.

Pollution is slowly eating away the god favored land of Hellas and the people have simply taken it for granted.

My hopes are high though, with the new government under George Papandreou. Finally an Environmental Ministry has been created, a huge step into a better future. It is unbelievable to know, that until 2009 there was no such Ministry and the delicate matter of environmental issues was part of the CONSTRUCTION minister.

What this means for a country pregnant with corruption is obvious. One only needs to take a drive in Attika, an area once fabled for its beauty. (only 100 years ago poems were dedicated to AttiKa...)

Crimes have been done, many of them irreversible. 

Time, only time might be able to heal... I do wish so...

We pass rolling hills, lush forests (not all is burned yet) azure waters with tiny freckles of islands, snowcapped mountains, rivers and gorges... and... and... and...

A dream...

A painting...

Paradise?

If Greece really was created by the gods, maybe it is Paradise after all. Or it was?

I take a quick look in the Athens Airport magazine : '2board', an amazingly well designed paper.

Looks like I am heading straight into new troubled waters, when I come across a new Crush-material kind of guy. The last big crush was-is- DAVID ROTSHCHILD. 

Environmental Rebel

JOHN NOLLET.

You don't know him?

Neither did I, till now that is.

hairdresser, Nomad and ambassador for Haute Coiffeur, he is a REBEL FOR BEAUTY.

Hairstylist JOHN NOLLET understands that beauty, like luxury, has no boundaries. The French-born Coiffeur has partnered with two of the biggest brands in itinerant glamour to bring his perfect cuts to women around the world. Throughout 2009, Nollet will spend a week each month in a Park Hyatt hotel suite in one of 10 international cities, where he will perform cuts and colors and create bespoke haute couture hair accessories thanks to his traveling salon, packed into three custom-made Louis Vuitton trunks.

"The idea of 'hair room service' around the world occurred to me" he recalls, "so I called Antoine Arnault and said, 'Antoine, would you ever make a made-to-measure Louis Vuitton trunks for me to do a tour du monde?"

I immediately thought that it was a perfect collaboration for LV, says Arnault, the head of communications of LV and a longtime admirer of Nollet's work. these unique pieces demonstrate our savor-faire while highlighting our core values of tradition and modernity."

REBEL FOR BEAUTY

Such personalized luxury has its price: Nollet's architectural cuts, which take up to two hours and can last for four to six months, cost $1000. Clients can also receive a personalized box of their own: Nollet will ship them a mannequin, wearing their hairstyle complete with personalized styling instructions and all the products they need to create. indeed, bespoke luxury can go to a woman's head... (Vanity Fair)

I will start saving now to get my hair done... once in a life time, should not be missed!

Googling for Nollet I came across an interesting side:

www.luxuryculture.com

Luxurious trend scouts, they even have a small city guide online.

Zakynthos is appearing in my small window frame like a picture perfect postcard. Lush and green, sporting elegant roof-tiled mansions, it looks not Greek at all. More Italian or French, I would say.

I learn from Prince that Zakynthos was once upon a time very much Italian. Ah... there we go...

In 1953 Zakynthos suffered a huge Earthquake, 7.3 Richter-scale, which left just 3 buildings intact.

Wow... the power of Earth.

Zakynthos is also known for its famous Caretta caretta (giant turtles) and a shipwreck beach.

The Caretta Caretta are an endangered species, which lay their eggs on a sandy beach in the South of the Island.

Recent awareness campaigns and the watchful eye of the EU have re-secured the faith of this ancient reptile. I wonder if we will have a chance to go and see them.

Zakynthos' airport is bright and clean yet stinky. Loud music is blasting into my ear and if this wasn't painful enough, the choice of colors used, do the rest.

Driving to the hotel I am again impressed. The roads are squeaky clean, no trash, no building rubble, no illegal garbage mountains in sight. Very rare for Greece.

We pass lush olive groves, healthy lemon and orange orchards heavy with fruit.

Spring is already a guest in Zakynthos and the fields are an explosion of wild gold-blossoms. I take a deep breath and fill my lungs with pure blissful spring air. What a difference of scent compared to polluted Athens. And the blue sky... Athens also was once famous for its blue sky and light. But those days are long gone and the sky these days is a mix of coffee brown with dirty orange.

Pollution, the common enemy of a metropolis. (and if you add no green to counter it...)

Best to live away from a big city, if you can. Work and play in town, but live in the country.

We arrive at the port, the water a deep turquoise, almost  like a Caribbean blue. It is magnificently beautiful and I am already considering to move here for good.

Our hotel is the 4* Phoenix, an ugly square box, sitting above a Cafe. The porter takes us to our domatio (room), which is more like an apartment. 2 bedrooms with cheap furniture, synthetical blankets in baby blue, orange curtains, 2 TV's (wow), grey towels hard as ancient marbles, an empty minibar and a lovely balcony with prime port and village views.

WELCOME

Somewhere I can hear a lot of noise and when I open the balcony door I see giant speakers blasting belly-dancing (or so it sounds) music into the empty village square. ODD!

It's for the celebration today, Prince explains.

Oh, I almost forgot, it is Tsikno-pempti (BBQ-thursday), which means MEAT FEAST for most and NIGHTMARE for Vegetarians. Vegetable lovers be warned. BBQ thursday is best avoided, since there is no ESCAPE from meat today.

Tsikno pempti is celebrated 11 days before clean Monday, which then brings lent and fasting. It is also the beginning of the Carnival season, a time celebrated with great joy in Greece, especially in the port town of Patras. (unless you go for carnival to Patras, don't bother. Patras is a very ugly place)

SOUVLAKI... It has been ages since I last smacked my lis around a juicy skewer. It is not something I can eat often, but once in a blue moon... Today must be blue moon?

Prince pulls me back inside, we have to go.

To my question on what I will do while he talks about machines and who knows what at his meeting, he smiles and promises that it will be very educating and interesting for me too.

I doubt it.

And so... here I am. At the Quay, bored, with the  tempting smell of charcoaled meat invading the privacy rights of my nostrils, dreaming away, when a fat cook strides over, beaming, with an oil dripping Souvlaki in hand.

"OPPPPPPPPPA"

I smile back at him and start pulling the fatty meat blobs into my mouth. Mhhhh.... Yummmmmm and yakkkk, all at once.

My description: Disgustingly delicious, if that makes any sense?

Prince appears out of nowhere, of course, when there is food around...

The fat Cook runs across once again, waving another dripping meat stick. It is a tradition in Zakynthos, to offer free meat on BBQ thursday. What a lovely custom. Prince jokes about the meat used, when for free. Cats, rats, dogs, he grins, while dirty oil is dripping down his sunny smile. I just lost my appetite and hand my Souvlaki over to him. KALI OREXI (enjoy)

Time for lunch anyhow.

We find a small Tavernaki and without any order food starts arriving.

Fava balls, Greek salad, eggplant dip, tzaziki, boiled greens, boiled reds...

We are 5 people, but the starters alone are enough for 10 and this is only the beginning!

Now the oversized meat arrives with an enormous amount of french fries. Goshhhh, those Greeks do eat.

I try my best to savor the pretty tough steak, but 2 bites are all I can manage.

The furry puppy that appears between my legs seems god-send and happily walks of with my steak hanging from his little mouth. GOOD PUPPY. Free meat for everyone today, even the dogs.

The owner-chef-cook-waiter reappears noisily with a giant plate filled with LOUKOMADES.

Now, here is a Greek dessert I can never resists. 

LOUKOMADDDDDDDDDDDESSSSSSSSSS...

Oddly shaped doughnut balls, warm and honey soaked, served with cinnamon and ice cream, they are heavenly temptations. I make them sometimes at home, but for some reason, they always taste better in a Greek Taverna. Must be the setting, the mood, the greek air. Who knows.

I munch down 6 balls, when I am ready to explode or to go for a nice Siesta. But no chance of such idyllic luxuries yet. One more meeting, Prince teases. And chewing down the last honey-soaked ball, I try to smile.

By late afternoon we finally return to our 4* quarters and I am so tired that I crawl into synthetic-land without fear. Too tired to be yucked. Too tired to mind the blasting belly-dance music. Good night*

Prince wakes me gently some time later,whispering in my ear: "We must go. Dinner."

It takes me a minute to realize where I am.

"Dinner? more food? More meat? " I ask sleepily. " Do I have to come? Can I also eat fish?"

He smiles amused. "Yes you can, but it's not polite".

Ohh, I got it. Meat it is.

The couple inviting us is already waiting downstairs. We drive off, into the MEAT FEAST night, my stomach revolting already. No idea on what to expect, the restaurant of choice comes to a real surprise. Cozy and cute, lid by candles and a crackling fireplace, stuffed with traditional furniture and a piano man singing sweet ballads, it could be someone's home. ARESTI, romantic and quiet, I am thrilled. (just to explain, the typical BBQ thursday happens in a raw, loud, low-key tavern, usually resembling a butchers fair, with dead animals dangling from the ceiling, fluorescent lights creating a surreal atmosphere mixed with the smoke and the shouting and drinking...never ever I have left such night unharmed-head and tummy-wise, that is)

But tonight seems to be a different kind of Tsikno pempti, I am delighted.

White linen tablecloth, wine from a bottle, refined cuisine and love-songs, what better way to celebrate?

It is 9 pm and we are the only guests. I ask the waiter and he confirms that we are very early.

The menu looks delicious and I can see the Italian connection.

Yet, I opt for a Schnitzel, neither Italian nor Greek, but hey, its meat. Prince does the same, since he is a Schnitzel connoisseur. Let's see if Aresti can beat the Schnitzel we ate in Hamburg last week?

The table starts filling once again, as if by magic, with the most tempting appetizers. The presentation, in pots and copper pans, is beautiful and mouthwatering and I cannot resists to try everything. (even some strange intestine stuff, which is pretty awful)

The house wine ( a local from Zakynthos) is not very good (undrinkable), so we opt for a 2007 Kir Yianni, a red classic. The Schnitzels, by the way, are divine. Very much up to German standards!

Aresti, we will be back!

When we leave, around 11.30, the crowds just start arriving. How can they keep up, I wonder...

Good night...

PS: Music is still blasting. I am up and it is 3 am! Maybe the Zakynthonians are deaf?

For a lovely dinner in Zakynthos:

ARESTI 

www.aresti.com.gr

Restaurant-Piano bar

Krioneri, Zakynthos 

+30 26950 - 27379


*SMILES
PS: Did you know that a smile is still considered a sign of STUPID in Greece?
People stile ogle at the sunny new American President with dislike, as he smiles way too much.
To be cool and taken serious in greece one must frown as hard as possible. Try it yourself. pull the forehead as much together as possible. There we go. Now take on a stern mean look.
SMART KID!
(luckily there is BOTOX now, as all those frowns will leave you marked... but then... how to frown after BOTOX is still a Mystery unsolved...)

Crossing the frozen Alster

I wake up early, because I want to walk the Alster. The Aussenalster to be precise.
After more than 13 years, for the very first time again, the Alster is frozen and can be crossed by foot.
There are only 2 centimeters of ice missing, before the city's environmental ministry allows for the famous Alster fair, a market, which sits on the frozen lake, selling hot wine and sausages.
The ice measures now 18 cm. Shame, we will miss the hot wine on ice, but at least I can walk the lake.
Apparently, in the 70's the Alster froze every winter, but with the arrival of the 80's winters just kept getting milder and milder. 1997 brought a short spell of cold and the Alster became a frozen fair.
Which makes me wonder once again.
The big warming or the big chilling coming up?
My hometown, close to Berlin, has been white since mid December. The very first time for such long and cold winter in 40 years!
I guess only time can tell, so let's wait till December 2010.
Prince orders some coffee and a lot of milk, which arrives the other way around. A lot of dark brew, and a tiny cup of white. Never mind. Let's go.
A look in our backyard shows heavy skies and snowfall.
I am ecstatic.
Prince is not.

Checking out and gone for a walk.


The snowfall has thickened and the wind is picking up. Even dressed warm and layered I can feel the cold. The wind is biting my cheeks and I am loving it. But poor Prince does not look too amused. He is a summer boy and not a great fan of the cold.
And then we arrive at the lake. We can only see a few meters across, as the air is filled with snowflakes and so are we. Prince looks like a snowman on feet and me, well I can't see anything. Like Mr. and Mrs Bean we hold on tight and start walking the ice. I am full of giggles, as we make our way slowly across the Alster, heading for the ATLANTIC hotel, our lunch spot.


We made it!!!
We are on the other sight. Cold, white and wet we arrive at the famous Atlantic.
I remember...long longggggggggg time ago, I spend a New Year's party here with old-rocker Udo Lindenberg and the Scorpions. Udo actually used to (not sure if still today) live here. Who needs a flat if you call the Atlantic your home? Stylish option and pretty convenient.
The entrance is grand and posh, especially with the sight of a  top-hat wearing porter, shoveling snow.

But the lobby does not impress much.
The original wood works have been replaced with typically German style mahogany, which looks shiny and somewhat cheap. I am quite disappointed, as the ATLANTIC stands for the ultimate Luxury. Or so I thought. The place resembles something like an aged 70's government retreat. But we are here now, let's eat. The restaurant is empty, again lacking that certain class and style, but the window table, with the Alster view in the snow swhirls, makes up for everything. I feel almost like, as if I am staring at an oversized SNOW-GLOBE after shaking it too heavily.
Heavenly***
By the way, our plane is scheduled to depart in 3 hours and I am praying for it to get canceled!

Dated decor or not, the menu looks promising.
I order a goat cheese salad and the pork liver.
Prince goes for a chestnut veloute followed by veal.
An amuse-bouche arrives, a foie gras brulee - OUT OF THIS WORLD!!!
And so is the soup and our main courses. I am flabbergasted!
What a word to use... and what a kitchen surprise.
I have to get the Chef's name:
Oliver Pfahler, 34. He worked under the wings of a few notable chefs, but much more I don't find on him.
Maybe worth a watch and a taste!



Prince's berry rings and it's Moneypenny. "Sorry", she whispers (afraid of his burst outs). "But your plane has been canceled".
Prince stares at me and I know, even though I did not hear Moneypenny myself.
Am I bad for feeling happy?
Yippppppppie...
My prayers have been answered and the snow globe is magic after all.
The next plane leaves at 6, connecting via Frankfurt.
Okay, Frankfurt sucks. I am honest. I always choose Munich, if I can. But if Frankfurt means 3 more hours in the snow-white Hamburg, I take it.
So... no worries, no rush and another few hours in the winter-world.


Our top-notch waiter brings the dessert menu, but sadly I am too full to taste anything sweet.
It's green tea time, which does arrive with a platter of chocolates. My resistance does not hold long and soon, all but the white ones, have disappeared.
WHERE DID THEY GO? I wonder...
Time to say goodbye to the Atlantic. I need an urgent release visit to the bathroom, when I discover UDO still rocks. He is now a painter? Or maybe he just gives back something, to the Atlantic team?
His funny drawings are framing the walls (by the toilets only...is that for a reason?) and I see he still has that dry humor that made him UDO. So I guess, he still lives upstairs. That guy got something going right. Even with the few beauty hiccups, the hotel is a pretty good address to have.





Since time is on our side now, we just take it easy, strolling back towards the 4 Jahreszeiten, on real land this time. The wind has dropped just a bit and so has the snowfall. Which means our next plane will probably be leaving right on time. I will accept it and not ask for another favor from *upstairs*. I am thankful for the delay we got... THANK YOU dear UNIVERSE... For the snow, the frozen lake, the food, Secondella, Prince and the delay and everything else that makes this world go around with smiles.


By 4.30 we collect our suitcases and jump into a cab, heading to the airport. Little did we know, that the traffic was an absolute mess. The snowstorm (while we lunched) apparently was much bigger, than we had expected. The roads are now a never-ending metal snake, barely moving at all.
OHOH.
Trouble!
My worries are not really a lost flight, but my stressed Prince. I try and keep him calm. I try to convince him, that the fault is not our driver, but the weather.
Sometime later, just like that, the lazy snake dissolved and we speed to the airport, arriving just in time.
Just in time..
Dean Martin, wasn't it?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W1l4aAo5rFU
Ahhhhhhhhhh...yes....yessssssssssssss


Sometimes I wonder... Am I the only girl loving, living the past???


And with that we take off... Frankfurt and Athens at Midnight.


KALI NICHTA (a Greek good night)

***

Secondella, Hamburg's vintage dream

Good morning you lovely Hansestadt


It must be sometime around 9 am. Prince is long gone and my sweet thought of staying in the silky soft queen sized bed just a bit longer, gets interrupted by the thrilling sounds of sprinkler system in work.
The Porter Promise should be known for such: NEVER TO BE TRUSTED!
So I will get up.
Opening the heavy cream-colored curtains, which give view to the unexciting backyard, shows the slightest finest arrival of new fluff. It is snowing*** and I stand there for a while, the window wide open now, breathing in the crisp scent of winter, my eyes watery with joy.
Blessed little crystal flakes, how you can make my heart go spin with wonder...
Time to get out there.
Breakfast is already waiting for me, ahhh, My Prince, still the Romantic.
Fresh juice and fruit and some typical German bread (very dark and filled with seeds and nuts) with good old-fashioned butter. Delicious!


While munching away I do some googling for a carnival costume shop, since time is running out for our VENICE MASK BALL PARTY.
Ohhhh, I can't wait!!! Venice, this magical, seductive and sensual beauty with those glorious wet feet, a place of utter romance and passion. Wildest dreams seem to breath in this setting of mystery, "Eyes wide shut" just a gondola ride away.
And this on Valentine's.
PERFECTO


I find two interesting places, both upscale and dedicated costume makers. Very excited I call, but there is nothing available at the moment. Not in my size anyhow.
How about second hand? Maybe I could find something interesting?
Google spits up a few shops, one just a stone-throw away.
SECONDELLA.
Funny name. Let's go and check it out.
I get dressed in my 'Sherlock Holmes' look. I am rather inspired by the latest Holmes and the sexy boyish dress code of Rachel McAdams.


My Sherlock version is made of a grey pair of  wool and cashmere riding pants, a grey tweed west (H&M) and a ruffled ivory silk blouse (Zara). My black riding boots are custom-made from an equestrian shop in Buenos Aires, my gloves are Hilfiger in a juicy cherry red (like my new
Chanel Lipstick), my hat is a french Beret in black wool and my handbag a classic black LV. Oh, and the coat, my new grey Ferragamo from New York. Putting on some red makes me feel SOOOO WOMAN. I don't know what's gotten into me, but red lips are my new must-have. Maybe I am growing up and even though I think I am a girl, I am all woman now.
GIRL... YOU'LL BE A WOMAN SOON...


Neil Diamond
for the classic lovers:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=57q3kq4FP2o
for the wild ones: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rg0Hhmm07VM
Gosh, Uma is hot!


But I feel pretty hot too, today. I think it's a mix of the wild meat from Wollenberg's cuisine, the promise of snow and the dreamland of 2.hand...
I am such a VINTAGE JUNKIE!


The snow has returned in force and the tender fluff is now turning into healthy sized flakes. Oh, what beauty.
I am trying to look up, watching the glittering crystals landing on my nose, but the danger of falling is too high. The sidewalk is pure ice and every step seems a dangerous stride towards pain or ridicule.
I must focus down, what a shame, as I am missing all the fun!
The Hamburgers are out and about, sliding around the frozen shopping areas. It is a funny sight, the MINISTRY OF FUNNY WALKS.
And then I arrive at SECONDELLA.
2 levels of used bliss.
My way of helping earth. Recycling. If bottles, cans, paper or dresses. Recycling is the way to go.
Secondella is surely not your usual second hand joint. Elegant, clean and very well organized, it could be a high-end designer boutique. Only the prices give it away.
There is a lot of cool stuff. Sadly not too much in my size though.
I end up with an enormous mountain of items and disappear behind the changing curtain.
There is a fashionable Italian couple, quite noisy and attention seeking (him, not her) trying on the other half of the boutique. Everything is amazing and everything is too big. Not one dress fits right and the ABBA style JEANS, size 26, dangle under my butt.
Damn.
I must eat more or take everything in.
I will go for the first option and the second.
2 dresses (one silky red and black TIBI and one classic traveling companion - beige linen shirtwaist) are such stunners, that I take them anyhow. Big can always become small. And the same goes for a red linen CELINE skirt.
Classy stuff.
In the shoe department I discover a most amazing pair of PRADA stilettos, with a flower heel.

They are pretty out-dated (2008 collection), but can beauty ever go out of style? I don't think so. They are seriously hot stuff for VALENTINE's. And those flowers can last forever!!!
I also find a lovely pair of red Ferragamos for Prince. VALENTINE feet for both of us.
The very helpful owner sends me upstairs for some more bargain hunting. Upstairs are the winter sales.
The place does not look anything like downstairs and I am almost ready to turn back, when I spot the Italians in a messy corner. If they are here, there must be some goodies to be found.
And oh, there are.
Unbelievable!
It is like a treasure chest in disguise.
A black Gianfranco Ferre femme fatale tuxedo (floor length skirt, jacket and tie in silk)
A black ESCADA classic suit (skirt and jacket)
A MiuMiu suit (mini skirt and Jacket in grey)
A Gucci velvet suit (off-white and soooo Saturday Night Fever)
A DKNY hippy dress
A Moschino cardigan with heart shaped buttons


I don't want to brag, but the total was less than one dress at Goodman's.


Thrilled and full of bags I leave Secondella. It is already dark outside, which means I must have spend a few hours in there. How time can fly, when shopping.
The berry rings and Prince is checking in. Dinner in half an hour.
Half an hour?
But it's only 6 o'clock?
"It's Germany baby, you should know dinner time is early here".
6.30... yeaph, I almost have forgotten...
Wobbling back, with so many bags and such icy conditions is not easy, but I make it home in one piece.
No time for a private fashion-show, just a bit of red Chanel and out again for dinner date with Prince and some business people.
'Casse Croute' is just around the corner. A bistro style restaurant serving french cuisine, it is always busy, lunch or dinner. The menu is simple, the decoration cozy and the waitresses pretty and fresh. Prince is waiting with two associates at a corner table and we order Schnitzel and grannie's cucumber salad, washed down with beers.
No time for dessert, as our table is reserved for new guests, so we are just thrown out. At the exit I spot OTTO WAALKES with his attractive young wife Eva, an odd couple, but head-turning material. Otto is a famous German comedian, who wins with his jokes, not looks.
Which proofs once again, looks are not all.







It is very early to return to the hotel, so we go for a long evening walk. Hamburg is the perfect place for strolling and hand in hand in the freezing January air, we enjoy the night, the cold and each other.
When we get back to the 4 Jahreszeiten my sweet tooth is wakening and so we end up, by the fireplace, sipping Muscadel and eating chocolate crepes.
The only thing missing now is a piano player.
I must start taking lessons. What beautiful talent to play an instrument.
I must! I must! I must!


Do you know the answer people give, when they are asked at their deathbed, what they regret most?
NOT TO HAVE LEARNED AN INSTRUMENT! 


Some glasses later I see the Italians rushing by. My mom is right. She says, you always meet 3(!) times in life. Guess that's the last I will ever see of them.













SECONDELLA
www.secondella.de


Hohe Bleichen 5
20354 Hamburg
040 352931









CASSE CROUTE (Bistro with star appeal)
www.cassecroute.de


Büschstraße 2
20354 Hamburg, Germany
040 343373


    


                               

Hamburg calling

Our great promise of waking up early to get everything done with the least stress possible, is again dissolved into nothingness, by our sleepiness  and the native need of cuddling. 7 is now 8.30, once again late and like a bunch of wired party animals we jump up, rushing around trying to stretch the hours till departure.

Never changes, does it?

Never change, do we?

While I am trying to get washed and shampooed as fast as possible, I am a feeling just a bit bad, as the ‘babies’ will be send to the hotel today, the very first time ever. Guilt is crawling up on me, like the ants I am watching, marching up the tiled shower walls. Where the heck are they going anyway? It is wet, it is closed in and there is nothing eatable inside, unless they are counting on me?

ANTS.ANTS.ANTS.

They will drive me insane one day. Or they may have already…

Clean and sweetly scented, wrapped in an oversized towel I head for the kitchen. The scratchy sounds on the door remind me of the ‘little ones’.

Puppy is calling, time for breakfast. The thought of managing a full-blown household, with real babies and a sharp time schedule seems totally impossible to me. How do women do it? I would be constantly battling this enemy called clock, my kids most likely never on time for breakfast, school or sleep. Maybe a private teacher, with a hippy approach to the idea of time, would be the only possible answer.

“Yes little one, breakfast is coming up, give me just a minute.”

“ I need coffee baby, please urgently”, I hear Prince calling from his Princedom-office. Ohhhhhh, why did I ever end up with 3 puppies?

COMING!!!

First the big puppy, then the small ones.

Coffee, vitamin-fizzy water and yogurt, good morning my Love.

Kutshi, kutshi, kutssssshi… a bowl of dried meat balls for you little puppy.  At least that’s easy. Just open the bag of dog food (hoping it is not again infested by those bloody ants) and fill up the bowl.

Big dog gets a treat, but only because we are leaving. While watching the 8 legs munch away, I am feeling once again like a bad mother. Stepmother, sending the pains away. I start explaining myself to them, standing in the sunny morning hour, excusing my life to 2 dogs. And not that they are listening. Ears down, tails up, they are way too busy stuffing themselves.

I never so less go on, advertising their vacation coming up.

“You know it is a lovely place, with lots of land to roam around. Monica said, that many new and interesting guests will be arriving this week. I met already a most elegant couple, the Whippets. They are a very chic pair, very fashionable and I think you could become great friends”… and on and on I mutter… “I am sure you two will be so busy playing, that you won’t even miss us. And did you know, that I booked you a room with floor heating?... “

The bell rings and our house help  Senhora L. arrives to collect the keys.  Senhora L. is a funny character, speaking fast and furious Portuguese, while exhibiting expressive body language. We never understand anything, but still, somehow, we understand each other. How that works is a mystery. She will make sure to empty the lifesaving dehumidifiers every 24hours, thank god, otherwise we are sure to return to wet sheets and greenish walls. Not that I mind the old-lived in feel, but those shrooms on the wall can be rather unhealthful. (for us and our cloth)

Time to take the furry ones away. Snufffff.

I collect all the leftover apples and pears from the baskets, something vitamin-rich for Puppy to chew on.

The fluffy blanket they like so much and their passports and off we drive to Casa Doggy.

Our old dog looks very distressed and blue, she always knows when we are leaving.

Poor little one.

It is a glorious day. The sun is shining from the bluest sky and the spring flowers are painting the fields in lemon gold. My heart fills with joy, thanking nature for such gifts.

The hotel gates are open and a smile curls up my face, for this place is magic. A converted windmill set in a lush pear orchard, overlooking rolling green hills, it is inviting enough for me to wanna stay. I can walk on four and wufff!

Monica welcomes us and Puppy is all over her. Dogs know good and bad.

I fill out the check in forms and then I take them to their room.

Mr. and Mrs. stylish Whippet, sporting knitted turquoise-blue turtlenecks today are living next door. Great. They are perfectly gorgeous neighbors.

Time to hug them good by (so faster so easier) and I promise to call them every day. Walking out, warm-eyed Monika tells me about the soon-to-come arrival of skype screens, so we can actually see our babies. What a great idea!

Woooffff, wooofffffff, woooooofffffffffffffffffffff

Heartbreaking…There goes my family. Stinky, furry and furniture destroying, yet, I love them!!!

Back at home our  ever-faithful taxi driver is waiting already in the driveway. Well, his taxi is, but its not him, its his son today. Carl is gone hunting, I learn from the sleep-deprived looking offspring… Luckily we are away these days, so no chance of bloody presents for now.

And there we go-airborne and on our way to Hamburg.

The crew is very lively today and Prince is busy slurping red wine and flirting with the well-seasoned stewardess. She is all shine and bubbles with the attention of a young stud and Prince departs the plane with a slight buzz and a couple of plastic bags . Red wine. Gift from TAP.

What a few smiles and compliments can do?!

Hamburg is cold and white. Not fluffy white, more like condensed grayish white with an icy temperament, but it is still close enough to snow, to make me excited. What wondrous magical stuff this snow is.  A gift from the heavens. Like a fine silk blanket, it covers cities with beauty and muffles the noises into a dreamy decibel.

Our sleeping quarter is the 4 Jahreszeiten today. Old school elegance, just my cup of (green) tea.

Arriving at the impressive hotel, the entrance is less impressive today, as the place is a construction site. Oh no, please no.

NOISE?

We have to enter via the restaurant door, which is killing somewhat the charm, but the worst is the Lobby.  Under construction to refit a sprinkler system the Lobby has been covered with dirty-white dry walls, resembling now an eastern block post office. AWFUL. But what can we do. What needs to be done needs to be done, I just hope with the least disturbance to our stay and sleep. The smiley porter promises, that no sounds can be heard in the rooms, porter-promise.

I know that such promises cannot be trusted, but with the winter wonder world calling outside, no reason to stay in anyhow.

We got just 15 minutes before we will be picked up for dinner, as the son of a business colleague and his girlfriend are taking us out.

The pair is waiting for us in the lounge, luckily a place that has already been ‘re-sprinklered’ and so it shines in glorious beauty.  Affectionately called the WOHNHALLE (living room) it is the heart of the hotel. Resembling a grand country mansion, with a crackling fireplace (well, to be honest, no crackling, the fireplace has been refitted with a gas-copy…the sounds and smells, sadly are missing…very German approach!) and an oversized samovar for teatime, it s the perfect place to linger for a cup of herbs and something small and sweet. 

I love the wood wainscoting (wooden wall paneling), the stuccoed ceiling and the antique seating arrangements. It is splendid. 

And somehow, it turns everyone into a lady and a gentleman. There must be truth in the thought, that humans behave different in certain ambiances. Elegance, fine craftsmanship, materials of excellence, traditions, classical music and BEAUTY make us BETTER.

Or so I believe.

Check out Alain de Botton’s “The architecture of happiness”.

The gifted writer-entrepreneur-philosophizer touches in this book the subject of beauty and human response.

An interesting work of pages.

H&C take us to a surprise restaurant. The earlier email inquiry, on what kind of place we like, was answered by me with 3 words:

*FIREPLACE (with the snow outside… a must)

*German cuisine (but good)

*URIG (urig is word more used in the South of Germany, meaning, warm, cozy, with a twist, funny, different…)

WATTKORN here we come.

Michael Wollenberg, the celebrated Chef of Hamburg’s in-scene, with a somewhat wild and deliciously dirty past.

Once notorious nightclub owner of the scandal ridden WOLLENBERG (!EGO), the party monster turned cook.

Looks like his wild side is now roaring out in the kitchen and when he goes shooting deer in the woods.

Oh dear!

I cannot escape! Hunters everywhere. But this time, it’s not me chopping off bunny heads.

The Wattkorn is a guesthouse-restaurant and certainly passes for URIG.

ULTRA-URIG!

The place resembles a snug mountain hut. Wood, red and white checkered materials, benches stuffed with pillows, candle lights and a roaring fireplace.

Cured meats dangle from the ceiling and the waiters are dressed in checkered shirts, like real country people. PERFECT! It’s hard to believe that this is Hamburg, which usually is known for trendy, modern and hip dining. (not my favorite way of eating)

We scoop into a corner bench and I am amazed by the size of the menu. This Michael party-cook must have his brain still working pretty good (impressive after years of full time partying), because with this menu he can pull everyone for a bite. Simply put, because there is every dish imaginable on the card.

Fancy Schnitzel?

Fancy Pasta?

Fancy Deer?

Fancy Onion Soup?

Fancy Spinach Salad?

Fancy Sushi?

So where is his signature cooking style? Is it the game, is the traditional German fare or is it JAPANESE?

Confused Chef, but let’s taste it, before I make a judgment.

Since Michael loves hunting we decide that game must be the choice of the night.

Sadly I admit, I choose papa-Bambi.

Please don’t give me that look. I know, I am awful. But…but… I love wild. It is yummy, lean, healthy and BIO. Not fed any hormones and other things, we don’t want to mention.

The salads arrive, green and crisp, but common.

The meat though is really divine. Soft and silky, with a berry-cherry glaze, our table is a symphony of uhhhhhhh and ahhhhhhhhs.

Served with an oversized platter of side orders, like Brussels sprouts, celery-puree,  wine soaked berries and sweet mash, we are in culinary heaven.

Michael, I take it back.

Your wild side could not taste any better.

I am stuffed to the last space in my tummy, but I can’t let the dessert pass ‘untasted’.

Can I?

The chocolate crème brulee sounds just the perfect ending to the night and it is as scrumptious as the name promises.

Mr. Wollenberg. If every party-animal can cook like you, nightclubs ought to closed and reopened as food temples!

*Wattenkorn. A great surprise in the chic Hansestadt. We will be back.

And this is it for today,

Yummy dreams good night

WATTKORN

www.wattkorn.de

Tangstedter Landstrasse  230

22417 Hamburg

+49 (0)40 520 3797

Dress-code: country, farm, tweed and gingham

Michael's new book is out - all about cooking wild. German only (for now)

VIER JAHRESZEITEN (fairmont)

www.fairmont.com/hamburg
Neuer Jungfernstieg 9-14
20354 Hamburg
+49 40 3494 0


dress-code: elegant, dress to impress, hats, heels and gloves(for the ladies)

Germany is not as expensive as one would imagine, so a room here can cost as little as 200 euros a night. A bargain for such grand dame! And the address: PRICELESS!