Looking Back at Our Two Weeks in Europe

View from the Pantheon, Paris

It took two months to cover a two-week vacation to Europe in this blog. Or, to put it another way, 19 posts to cover a 15-day trip.

OK, so it took a while to spit everything out. And with more than 1,100 photos, I had a lot to share. But you've finally seen the highlights and read about the lowlights, and I have only a few parting thoughts.

As the time for the trip got ever closer, I frequently speculated that I had gotten in over my head. The trip was a lot of work -- by far the toughest vacation I'd ever planned. Coordinating five flights, places to stay in four cities, and doing at least a modicum of research (and much, much more for Paris and Rome) takes time. I can't even guess how many hours I put into it since our itinerary first began to take shape in February.

For each city we were to visit, I prepared a list of the sights I wanted to see, along with their hours and prices. I determined the best and cheapest ways to get to and from each airport -- and we were in seven airports in all -- and kept track of the exchange rates for four different units of currency. We booked ahead what needed to be booked ahead (tours in Iceland, a visit to the Vatican Museum) and planned day trips we weren't sure we'd ever take (yes to Versailles, no to the Appian Way in Rome).

There were certainly times when I was frustrated, and almost every day I was tired. There were days that were strange. (Sitting in Rome, watching TV programs cover the tenth anniversary of 9/11 in a language we couldn't understand ranks right up there.) But I never thought I was in over my head. It was a priceless experience, and knowing that we pieced together the trip ourselves made it even more memorable.

My regrets were few and revolved mostly around food -- couldn't I have had one more croque monsieur? One more chocolate pastry? My biggest regret, however, is that I barely had time to digest a city before darting off to the next one. But that's hardly a real problem. Really, it's a problem I was lucky to have had at all.

In case you missed any of them, below is a complete list of the blog posts about our trip. Thanks for playing along.

The Overview
Two Wonderful Weeks Exploring Europe

Paris, Sept. 4-8
View of Paris from the Top ... of Everything
Museum Hopping in Paris
Adventures at the Eiffel Tower
A Day Trip to Versailles
A Look Back on Paris

Rome, Sept. 8-12
Uncovering Ancient Rome: The Colosseum & Forum
The Religious Must-Sees of Vatican City & Rome
Piazzas and People-Watching in Rome
Reflections on Rome

Copenhagen & Malmö, Sweden, Sept. 12-14
Morning in Denmark; Evening in Sweden
Copenhagen: Tivoli & Other First Impressions

Reykjavik, Sept. 14-17
A Day at Iceland's Blue Lagoon
Iceland's Golden Circle: Sites & Scenery
Roaming 'Round Reykjavik, Iceland

Food & Fun
Eating Our Way Through Europe
The Hot Dogs of Scandinavia
Paul Presents Our Vacation

The Hot Dogs of Scandinavia

By the end of our two week trip to Europe, we were tired of eating what we were "supposed" to eat -- those regional specialties that just aren't the same anywhere else -- and just wanted to eat whatever we wanted to eat. Luckily, hot dogs fit under both categories in Scandinavia.

As I was sorting my photos, I realized I had an awful lot of pictures of hot dog. Here's a few, with Paul's reviews.

Hot Dog #1: Copenhagen, Cart

Copenhagen seems to rival New York for the highest number of hot dog stands, and a French-style hot dog from just one of these carts was our first meal in Denmark. The person behind the counter took a tube-shaped bun, open on one end, and squirted mayonnaise into the bottom. When the hot dog was inserted into the bun, the mayonnaise squirted up clear to the top.

Paul's review: Good, but a little less mayo would've made it even better.

Hot Dog #2: Copenhagen, Tivoli

A few days later at Tivoli, Paul tried what we were told was a Swedish-style hot dog, recognizable by its bright red color. It was served with a much shorter bun on the side, mustard and what our friends in Sweden had told us is generally called American sauce. Paul said it tasted like ketchup mixed with marinara sauce

Paul's review: And I quote, "It was the plainest thing I ever ate. The only way I knew I was eating anything was because I could feel something in my mouth."

Hot Dog #3: Reykjavik

In Iceland, we actually stopped at a tourist desk on our last day in Reykjavik so Paul could ask where the famous hot dogs were located. The woman pointed us in the right direction, and a few turns later we were in line at the same place Bill Clinton sampled a hot dog during a visit to Iceland. It was served with mustard, mayonnaise and dried onions.

Paul's review: Tasty. The added crunchiness of the onions was a bonus.

Paul said the hot dog in Iceland was his favorite, followed by the French-style dog in Copenhagen. But even the red Swedish hot dog, he said, was better than any you'll find on New York's streets.

Eating Our Way Through Europe

My biggest regret during our European vacation is that I didn't eat enough desserts. Paul's was probably that we simply didn't eat enough.

We both make fair points. I was surprisingly lax in my French pastry intake, and we did tend to eat small, late lunches so we (read: I) could cram in all of the sights that we (read: I) wanted to see. But all in all, we tried some delicious food and some interesting food, although they weren't always one and the same.

In Paris, our fall back was either cold meats in crusty breads if we were out and about and near a park, or crepes if we were in the neighborhood where we stayed. I managed to squeeze in a chocolate croissant (which tastes surprisingly like the ones at Panera!), a chocolate tart (smooth, rich and creamy) and a macaron (not my favorite dessert, but can you really go to Paris without trying one?).

My absolute favorite meal was a croque monsieur -- think of a grilled cheese sandwich, only the cheese is on top and there's ham between the two slices of bread. When we looked up recipes at home, we realized there's also a layer of bechamel sauce between the top slice of bread and the cheese. Forget meatloaf -- this is the perfect comfort food.

Paul ordered his most interesting meal on our last night in Paris -- escargot as an appetizer, followed by beef tartare. I think even the waitress was surprised he ordered it, and his stomach was none too pleased with the raw meat either. He finished the dish, although I declined a taste.

In Rome, the highlight for me was by far the gelato. We stumbled across a gelateria near Piazza Navona that served a chocolate fondant gelato that was so good that I dragged Paul there a second time during our short stay in the city. It was like a cold, smooth, fudgy brownie. Everyone gets at least two scoops of gelato in their cones, so one of fondant combined with a dark, dark purple scoop of a flavor I believe was blackberry was not only delicious, but pretty. Paul wasn't as lucky with one of his combinations at a different gelateria: banana and licorice.

Maybe the most delicious thing I've ever eaten.

As for the food and drink, we tried to choose Italian classics. Wine, lots of house wine. A couple of pizzas we had on our last night stand out -- my marinara, and Paul's topped with asparagus and squash blossoms. On our first night, my gnocci was good, but the location was even better -- right in the shadow of a lit-up church.

We ate on the left, nearest the church.

Our culinary experience in Copenhagen mostly revolved around beer with friends. I tried an unexciting Danish meatball open-face sandwich. Paul's Danish food highlights centered on hot dogs (more about that on Friday). I did manage to sneak in a dessert or two -- not a danish, but this chokoladeschnitte, which was a combination of a chocolate cake, a ganache or mousse, marzipan, and some kind of clear jelly that I've read was apple jam, all covered in a chocolate shell. Rich and delicious.

I didn't have my favorite food in Iceland, but I had the most exciting. When we returned to Reykjavik from the Blue Lagoon, we chose a restaurant that served a sampler platter of classic Icelandic foods -- herring marinated in beet root juice, fish jerky (more like fishy pieces of paper), lamb terrine, smoked lamb and, finally, a couple of small squares of fermented shark with a shot of the aptly-named Black Death. We also ordered a small jar of puffin (alive, they look very similar to penguins), langoustine (a type of lobster, which I didn't know) and raisins on mashed potatoes. It was seasoned so robustly that I immediately said it tasted like Christmas.

Sampler platter.

Fermented shark with a shot of Black Death

Puffin 'n' stuff

A pleasant surprise was how much I loved an Icelandic yogurt called Skyr. It's creamier than your typical Yoplait -- almost mousse-like. And it comes with an adorable little foldable spoon in the lid, which makes it a very convenient snack for a traveler without eating utensils. I recently found out that it's sold at many Whole Foods stores (in New York, but not in Ohio!), so I'll definitely be checking that out.

Skyr and a kleina, an Icelandic donut

We had a few bad meals -- a pizza in Vatican City comes particularly to mind -- but even the worst meal in the world is made average in such surroundings.

Paul Presents Our Vacation

Today, photos of Paul doing his best impression of Barker's beauties.

It was hard not to think of "The Price is Right" or "Wheel of Fortune" as Paul's outstretched hands presented ...

VERSAILLES!

A FOUNTAIN IN ROME!

TIVOLI!

GULLFOSS WATERFALL!

A STATUE IN REYKJAVIK!

AN ICELANDIC NATIONAL PARK!

I have only these six photos of Paul presenting our vacation, but I'm sure he did it at least three times as often. Most of the photos come toward the end of our trip, when our to-do list wasn't as long, we were more relaxed and I was in more of a humor to humor him. Now I wish I would've gotten more photos. Paul could've been my very own version of Travelocity's Roaming Gnome.

Roaming 'Round Reykjavik, Iceland

We had only two short evening and one long morning to explore Reykjavik, but that was plenty of time. It's a small city -- only 120,000 people live there -- and most things to see and do are concentrated along two streets: Laugavegur and Skólavörðustígur. Luckily, our hotel was only one block from the former.

The streets aren't that long, but there are plenty of stores, galleries, bars and restaurants to explore. Once you're tired of that, you can visit Hallgrímskirkja (church of Hallgrímur) standing proudly at the end of Skólavörðustígur. Or walk a few minutes in the opposite direction and wander along a pleasant path abutting the Atlantic Ocean.

Hallgrímskirkja

Yes, we shopped. Yes, we ate. Yes, we even went into the church, although we were all but churched out at this point in the vacation. But mostly we just spent our time in Reykjavik meandering about. We walked along the waterfront, taking a closer look at the Sun Voyager sculpture and the ultra-modern Harpa convention center and music hall. I took photos down streets and around corners.

Along the waterfront

Sun Voyager sculpture

Looking out from inside Harpa

Iceland was both beautiful and relaxing. It seems that this is where all of nature converges -- ocean, mountain, greenery and even fire in the form of the lava rocks we so often saw. One could easily spend more time in Iceland, exploring the other corners of the country. Maybe even one more day in Reykjavik if you wanted to go whale watching, go puffin watching (we were too late in the season) or take a Northern Lights tour.

Overall, however, I was pleased and pleasantly surprised with this last stop of our trip. It was the perfect way to wind down from the big cities, long lines and aching feet we'd become accustomed to over the previous two weeks.

Iceland's Golden Circle: Sites & Scenery

Iceland was by far the easiest leg of the trip to plan. We had only two full days there, and we knew exactly what we wanted to do with them: the Blue Lagoon one day, and the Golden Circle tour the next.

The Golden Circle tour is a popular route through southern Iceland that often includes (at the very least) Gullfoss waterfall, the Geysir hot spring area and the Thingvellir historical site. It's possible to make the circle on your own with a rental car, but we took the easy way out and booked an 8-hour bus trip with Reykjavik Excursions.

Gullfoss, or "Golden Falls," was my favorite stop. Think Niagara Falls, only more dramatic since the waters drop down several layers and you can stand on rocks so close you can practically touch the cascades.

As its name suggests, Geysir was the first geyser discovered and lent its name to all others. One of them in the area still blows its lid every 10 minutes or so. Although we saw it pop its top about five times, I feel like I actually only really saw it a couple of times -- so much of the time I was trying (mostly unsuccessfully) to catch it on film. Paul evidently has better reflexes since his was the best photo.

Paul's photo -- the best!

Waiting for the perfect shot.

Thingvellir  is a national park where Iceland's parliament was established in 930. It's also a meeting spot of the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates, so geographically we were on two continents.

Each stop and all of the landscape we saw from the bus confirmed that the best word to describe Iceland's scenery is dramatic. There was plenty of greenery, but it was combined with mountains, fog, alternating sunny and dark gray skies, and some of the clearest water I've ever seen. Dramatic really is the only word.

A Day at Iceland's Blue Lagoon

Many visitors to Iceland go to the Blue Lagoon either directly after arriving at Keflavik International Airport or on their way to the airport before leaving the country. The geothermal spa is actually closer to the airport than Reykjavik, and you can even store your luggage while you take in the warm waters.

Paul and I, however, arrived at Iceland at night. We could have visited before our afternoon flight back to the U.S., but we opted for a more leisurely experience. So we booked seats on a bus to the Blue Lagoon on a Thursday morning, our first full day in Iceland.

I was looking forward to the visit, but I wasn't sure what to expect. First off, I knew that before entering a spa or public pool in Iceland, you must first shower unclothed -- no swimsuit -- in the locker room. I was never an athlete, and I'm a little bashful in that respect. However, it wasn't a big deal. The Blue Lagoon was sparse when we arrived at 11 a.m., and I found a semi-private shower with a door that mostly shut. Then it was off to the creamy blue waters.

The waters are heated by a nearby geothermal power plant to 98 to 102 degrees, but there are certainly some pockets that are hotter than others. The floor is covered with black sand and smooth, jagged rocks, but you can see neither. Forms become vague two inches below the surface and completely disappear another three inches below that.

Paul.

The pool has no right angles and is surrounded by large piles of black lava rocks. Out of the pool, the temperature must have been in the high 40s to 50s, and there was an ever-present fog over the water. A breeze created ripples in the water and made my ears cold.

The Blue Lagoon also has saunas, as well as several tubs of silica strategically placed throughout the pool and generously used by visitors to create facemasks. We tried it three times. But mostly we did nothing at all -- just explored the lagoon and sought out the hottest spots of water.

The place got much busier around 5 p.m. -- Icelanders off work? Tourists arriving from the airport? Either way, the lagoon's bar area was lively and the place got much louder. We left shortly after, spending a good 7 hours at the lagoon.

Bar.

Interestingly, every visitor receives a rubber wristband to wear for the duration of the visit that locks and unlocks your locker and which you can use to charge food, drinks and towel rentals. When we arrived in Iceland we still had some Danish currency, and Paul asked a Blue Lagoon employee if it would be accepted. Yes, the man said. The lagoon basically takes all currency, he went on, and they'd probably even accept jewelry -- they'll get paid somehow. So obviously they see a lot of tourists -- not a surprise since even the New York City subways have advertisements for the Blue Lagoon.

I expected to enjoy the Blue Lagoon, but it was even better than I thought. In fact, I would try to arrange a long layover in Iceland in the future just for a quick return visit -- not so difficult to arrange since it's so close to the airport. It was a relaxing day, and one I hope I'll one day get to repeat.

Copenhagen: Tivoli & Other First Impressions

I think it was in a social studies textbook in elementary school. Maybe junior high.

It sticks out because Denmark wasn't a place we normally talked about in class. There was England, Germany, Spain. Ohio history in the seventh grade. But Denmark was a mystery. I think that's why the short section on the Scandinavian country holds a place in my  mind yet today.

I don't remember the text, or even the gist. I seem to recall a photo of Tivoli. What I know for sure, however, is that for many years I basically knew of only two things in Denmark: the aforementioned Tivoli Gardens amusement park and Lego Land.

Lego Land has since lost its appeal, but Tivoli never did. (Blame it on all of those summer trips to Cedar Point.) As the years passed, I gradually picked up a few more tidbits on the country and Copenhagen: names, words and phrases. Hans Christian Andersen. Bicycles. Quaint. Put together it created more of a state of mind than a vivid picture.

By the time we got to Copenhagen, it was day 10 of our 15-day vacation, and we were ready for a change of pace. Paris and Rome were exciting, but now I wanted to kick back and give my feet a rest. But it wasn't only my aching legs -- I had somehow picked up a cold in the Roman heat. The skies were gray when we arrived in Copenhagen, but we had scheduled only a little more than 48 hours in the city. Cold or no cold, we dropped off our bags and immediately began to explore.

Copenhagen is like a storybook -- it looks just like how Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tales feel. In fact, one of our few destinations in Copenhagen was the statue of the Little Mermaid of his famous tale.

We were almost to the statue when the sky opened and it began to pour. We hid out under a bridge and escaped when the drizzles slowed down, but it was hopeless. I took some photos and we made our way to a brewery Paul wanted to try. By the time we got there, we were soaked.

When the rain finally let up, we decided to find a grocery store and have a picnic in our room. Salami, pita bread, hummus, yogurt and the BBC -- our first interaction with what was going on in the world aside from a short internet session a few days before in Rome.

Our only full day there was spent with our friends Chris and Meghan, braving a windy Copenhagen and then taking the train a half-hour into Malmö, Sweden, where they live. We had planned to meet up the next day, our last in Copenhagen, but the so-so weather continued and it was raining by the time we checked out. Paul called Chris and we said our goodbyes by telephone.

Lego Land wasn't in the books -- it's something like 150 miles from Copenhagen -- but as the sky cleared and the sun finally appeared, Tivoli was finally looking like fun.The entrance was somewhere between $15 and $20, and rides were almost $5 for the crappy ones and $13 for the fun ones. We rode no rides. Still, we easily dawdled away a few hours eating open-faced sandwiches, wandering around the lake and greenery (it's not called Tivoli Gardens for nothing), and generally just fulfilling a childhood dream. It was cute and fun, but I suspect it would have been even more so at night, when Tivoli is lit up and probably more crowded. Still, I'm certainly glad we were able to fit in a visit during the trip.

Setting aside that textbook from long ago, my first and last impressions of Copenhagen remained the same: the city and its surrounding areas seem like lovable, livable cities. They seem very pleasant, aside, perhaps from the long, dark winters. When the sun is shining, however, the buildings are beautiful. And -- bonus -- English speakers have no trouble getting around at all. Everyone we had even the remotest contact with spoke impeccable English, and the guilt I felt at not even learning the Danish (or Swedish) words for "please" and "thank you" was only in my mind.