Crunchy leaves and crunch time!

When we returned to Drogheda last week, autumn had descended. And with crisp breezes and colourful leaves comes crunch time. It's that back-to-school feeling every adult gets when its time to leave the leisures of summer and start a new fall program (dad, you know what I mean!) to propel yourself into productivity.

Scott and I have a new abode to help our fresh fall start. On October 14, we moved into the residence formerly known as "The Spoon and Stars". Its a hostel-turned-rooming house that is surprisingly cozy. The Drogheda rental market is very competitive and, although the building is up for sale and we may be evicted once again, this is definitely the best place for us right now. After travelling for four weeks, its nice just to have a room of our own.

This year our fall program means looking for jobs. I am applying at call centres where my "American" accent is my secret weapon! Of course since Scott hates the phone and forces me to make all our routine calls, a call centre is out for him. I keep telling him that the sports betting parlours, which are all over Ireland, would be an ideal work environment for anyone going through fantasy football withdrawal, but he won't be tempted. We are both applying to cafes, pubs and shops - something definitely different from the office jobs we had in Canada. We're hoping that the Christmas rush will catapult us into employment quickly and after we woo employers with our Canadian politeness and efficiency they'll keep us on.

Making ourselves at home in our shared kitchen by making an apple crisp with Irish Bramley apples.

A nice week in Nice (France)...

So it's probably the most corny and overused joke in travel writing, but we just couldn't resist because Nice is, well, nice. With its urban beaches, famous fountains, quick railway access to Monaco, Cannes, and the rest of the Riviera, Nice is the perfect place to spend a week, or for that matter the rest of your life. We used it as a weeklong reprieve between the gruelling sites of Berlin and the reality of job searching that faces us back in Ireland.

View from our balcony in Nice. Love how the clouds are framing the moon. 

View of Nice atop Castle Hill. Nothing beats having access to the beach from the centre of town. 

Does it look like we are enjoying ourselves?

Nice at night, the Promenade du Paillon. Besides the glow in the dark yogis, there's a beautiful fountain show too. 

Just a couple of yachts docked in Monaco. 

Changing of the guard at the Prince's Palace in Monaco. 

Sculpture in Cannes in honour of their famous film festival.  MB and I couldn't resist seeing a movie in Cannes and went to see Gone Girl.

Watching the sunset in Cannes. 

Berlin: history shapes it, but doesn't define it

Instead of hotels, we've been staying with locals in rooms through Airbnb. It's a great way to save money and experience a city like its residents do. We had a super apartment in Berlin Mitte, which we understood to be the city centre. What we didn't understand before we arrived was that Berlin covers 891 square km, making it more than eight times the size of Paris. So, although we were technically in the centre of things, we still did a lot of walking.

Berlin is a goldmine for any twentieth century history buff. Even for us (decidedly NOT history buffs), the sites of Berlin were charged with emotion. Reminders of WWII and the Berlin Wall mark the city at every corner. Yet, the city seems determined not to let the past define it: construction and cranes have as much a presence in the sprawling capital as do memorials and museums.

We found our time in Berlin short as we were anxious to see and learn as much as we could. History in Berlin is a different experience; because of the atrocities of WWII, history here is framed by shame instead of pride. If there are two kinds of travel, learning and vacation, Berlin is definitely the former. Although learning Berlin history is important and necessary we couldn't help but selfishly look forward to the vacation awaiting us in the south of France when we left Berlin. 

Reichstag (Germany's Parliment) Building - burnt down in 1933 and was rebuilt to include a glass dome at the top. From the parliamentary floor the politicians can look up and see the public in the dome as a reminder of who they serve. 

The dome up close

Mirrored wall inside the dome that reflects natural light into the building

MB enjoying the view from the top of the Reichstag

We visited a concentration camp north of the city. These words are on the front gate and would be read by captives as they enter. It translates to: "work sets you free". This was the first of many disturbing images we saw here. 

This was the walk signal used only in East Berlin. Since the wall came down he has been adopted on the west side too. He's a popular fellow in Berlin and even has his own souvenir shops.  I love his hat!

The Berlin Wall East Side Gallery is a 1.3km-long section of the wall near the center of Berlin. Approximately 106 paintings by artists from all over the world cover this memorial for freedom and make it the largest open air gallery in the world.  Below are a few of our favourite sections. 

Cyclists, canals and contentment: Amsterdam and Amsterdammers

We arrived in Amsterdam on September 24, anxious to check out the many things that this Dutch metropolis is known for: bikes, waterways, red lights and "coffeeshops" (hint: what they sell is a little stronger than caffeine). 

My mom tried to prepare us for the onslaught of bikes we would meet in Amsterdam, nothing could ready us for the 600,000 bikes that take to the streets of Amsterdam each day. Or more aptly, take to the protected bike lanes that dictate the city's traffic. One of the first things we did was take a three hour bike tour, and both Scott and I were in awe over the ease in which we flew through Amsterdam's flat, canal-lined streets. Scott (aka Captain Safety) was aghast to see mini cars and scooters sharing the bike lanes. We were both amazed at the infrastructure that supports cyclists. Here, the almighty car is not so mighty. My kind of city.

In a city where both marajuana and prostitution are legal, we expected the people to be a little more fun loving and a little less reserved. But, we were hard pressed to find a Dutch person displaying any emotion, whether it be laughing, shouting, crying, or even smiling. Everyone seemed content, yet no one seemed overjoyed. The weather was a perfect pathetic fallacy; it barely rained and the sun rarely shone. Instead, a banal overcast sky hung over the city, keeping the inhabitants in a perpetual state of grey. Scott was tempted several times to pinch someone and see if they really were human, but he resisted. (Funny, it was only the cute girls he considered pinching!)

Luckily the Dutch are tall, we had no problem finding a bike to fit Scott. 

A multi-story parking structure just for bikes!

A super mini car on the bike path. 

The weary cyclists after a long day. 

House boats line one of the many canals

The houses are so narrow that large items have to be moved in through the windows. We were lucky to see it in action. 

Here is the most narrow house in Amsterdam, less than 2m wide. 

This building is sinking, a big problem due to the soft ground the city rests on. 

One of our highlights was visiting the ultra modern public library. Here's a view of the city from the rooftop cafe.