Formally inducted into the "Horror Travel Stories" club.

Sometimes when you think nothing else can go wrong, you soon realize it can.
This is an account of our journey home starting Saturday June 25th.
Saturday:
We woke up in Rome, pack up our bags, cleaned a little, and checked out of our adorable little apartment in Roma. Looking back the following decision may have been stupid... but we gave all of our bags (except our passport and train passes) to the lady we were renting the apartment from to keep in her car while we roamed around Rome for the day before our train left that night at 8.
**Side note** European trains don't run on time. At least the overnight ones don't. So we were prepared for delay. Which we encountered.
Spending the night in the train was alright (better than our journey there, at least). We were really sad to miss lunch with our friend W because of our lateness. We headed straight to Charles De Gaulle airport (because we are poor college students who became more poor in Europe) to spend the night. Please note that we arrived there at 2pm on Sunday and camped out waiting for our plane that left Monday at 8am.
It was about 10-hours (mid-night) the Irene came back from a bathroom walk and told us that our flight through Icelandic Air was cancelled. Since this news was directly after an exchange of hilarious stories and embarrassing moments... we didn't believe her. It took about ten minutes for everything to set into my mind, but little did I know that was just the beginning.
Around 2 am D, E, and I walked around the concourse looking for Icelandic Air just to see what time an attendant would be there. Oddly enough, we couldn't find where they were located. We asked a man and we couldn't understand him, so we decided to just get as much sleep as we could, wake up early, and begin figuring everything out. It was 4am that the lights came on in the airport and we couldn't sleep any longer. After asking several people, we found out that we had to go to this makeshift place where we could rebook our tickets. Surely, we thought, there was just not many people booked on the early flight, so they would just stick us on the later flight.
When we got to the line that labeled our desk on printer paper there were others there camped out on seats already in line. It took only five minutes to listening to what they had to say to be completely overwhelmed, stressing out, and on the brink of tears. They said they've been stuck in Paris for two days because Icelandic Air is currently undergoing a strike. Most flights have been cancelled, and the company has contracted one person in CDG to rebook every single person. The computer was old, no one would answer questions, and they were less than sympathetic. So, we waited. We ere warned to be aggressive as people began to wander to the counter and take our spots.
At one point, Irene was leading the pack and a French couple walked up next to us and stood there. We were only about 2 people away from being at the front of the line... and the line itself extended quite far behind us at this point. At first, Irene scooted up. And then they came close to us (obviously with the intentions of cutting us). Irene then leaned over and put her arm on the desk counter (making it even more obvious that we weren't letting them in). As they proceeded to get close she just hopped up and sat on the desk counter. That-a-girl. The French lady asked E a question about the line, and with no sleep and a slightly stressed out E just stared blankly at the lady and pointed to the back of the line. It pretty much made my day.
We a little relieved when we got tickets (after about 2 hours of waiting) through Air France. We were headed to Montreal that afternoon. Hesitant about checking our bags, we waited in a terribly long line to check in and get our tickets, only to find out at border/customs that we had to check our bags (except Irene slipped in with hers... sneaky little girl). E and I manned Daniel with our carry-on, and waited 40 more minutes to check our bag. We met up, and wait another hour to get through customs. Oh yea, I forgot to mention that when we checked in to get our tickets, they put Irene on a wait list for our flight. With a little layover in Montreal to get to JFK, we couldn't afford for her to be put on another flight. Daniel was going to offer his seat, and then we decided that if he was going to offer his seat, I may as well give mine up as well (we married kids gotta stick together).
Luckily, after standing in hours of more lines, Irene got on. Praise the Lord. Home free, right? No more problems!
Except that we missed our connection flight in Montreal because we were delayed in Paris (CDG strike). Awesome. I know. Still operating on 2 hours of sleep and a millions pounds of stress, we were re-ticketed to LaGuardia. While we were thankful to be headed to the U.S., E and Irene were not going to be able to make their connecting flight from JFK (where we were suppose to initially arrive) to Denver. Not to mention that their flights from JFK to Denver were book at different times, so neither Air France nor Air Canada could help them. As we when through border control at Canada, got our bags, checked back into Air Canada, and went through U.S. customs, we were running for our plane to the U.S (at first the lady said that Irene and E could not check in because they were too late, and so Daniel and I went on, but the lady was on crack and got them on the same flight anyways).
So there we were in New York LaGuardia when we should have been at JFK 8 hours earlier. Still with only about 3 hours of sleep under us, tired, hungry, stressed, and E and Irene without a plane to Denver. Through they talked with Jet Blue reps, it became clear that they would have to travel to JFK and wait in more lines before figuring something out. Daniel and grabbed a taxi and made a crazy journey to Queens where we would sleep and get up for our morning flight to Indianapolis.
Periodic texts from Irene and E told us that they were waiting in ridiculously long lines, fighting with people getting to Puerto Rico, and just trying to make it through the day without collapsing. It wasn't until around 11pm that we got news that they were able to get on a flight at 4pm the next day arriving in Denver (with a layover) late late that night. Poor girls. We thought they were just cuddled up in the airport or another sleepless night. In the morning we found that they decided to get a hotel for the night so that they could get some sleep.
As I write this we are about to land in Indianapolis. we have sad hearts knowing our dear friends are still waiting for their flight to Denver. We are, however, thankful that everyone is getting home. We didn't have to stay another night in Paris, we have all of our luggage, we were never pick pocketed (that we know of...), and we still all look back with fondness of our adventure in Europe.
Stay tuned as more stories and pictures come trickling in about our trip through Europe. E is going to write about the Louvre, and d'Orsay and D is going to be writing about the BMW Museum. I plan on posting a few more things from Rome and an overall "Lessons Learned" blurb from all of us.
Thanks to our family and friends (and friends who are family) who have supported us through the planning process and transition period. In the midst of traveling the world we missed home dearly because of you.

Munich!

D and I arrived in Munchen from Brussels by train. we have decided that train is by far our favorite way to travel. It's easy, relaxing, and you get to see some beautiful scenery. And, for those who are rich and thirsty, they even have a bar car where you can chug booze until your heart is content. I love Europe.
We made it to the place we were staying with no problems at all. The city wide transportation system was the easiest we've found so far (although we learned by our host that we could have been in a world of trouble because we didn't activate our tickets properly that first ride to her place). And that first night we decided to hit up the most well-known beer garden in all the world: Hofbrauhaus. All the waiters and waitresses were dressed in traditional German clothing and musicians played traditional German music. Seating was seat yourself family style... meaning you normally sat next to strangers on a long bench. I guess after a few beers you don't really care who you sit by. Daniel ordered schweinshaxe (grilled beef knuckle... I don't think it is actually knuckle, unless pigs have huge knuckles) with a liter of the original brew, and I or the HB sausage platter with saurkraut, pretzels, and a half-liter of a Radler (half original beer and half lemonade... perfect girl beer). The beer house was an awesome experience, and we were both really glad that we spent our dinner there. After dinner we walked home. After we told our host what we did that night and that we walked home, she looked at us with a surprised looked and exclaimed, "Are you guys really American?!?!"

The next day we spent exploring the BMW museum, dodging the rain, napping for 2.5 hours, and then finding the only restaurant open after 8pm (that wasn't sit-in)... Subway. I'm going to let Daniel enlighten you about the BMW Museum in the coming days. We both had a great time, and for different reasons.




On Sunday we decided to take a short train and bus ride to the Dachau Concentration Camp. Unprepared for what we were going to see and learn, we left the site with a completely different understanding of WWII. The unjust treatment of innocent people was the hardest part for me to understand. How could anyone purposefully torture, humiliate, and kill innocent people on a day to day basis for years? Daniel and I left the camp in awe and wonder. Why didn't God intervene? The pictures, videos, and places we saw are forever engrained in our heads. Though we left with heavy hearts, we still strong encourage anyone to go if you have the opportunity. It brought a new, very real, aspect to the treatment of "others" during WWII.




Sunday night we decided to get off the train at a random stop downtown and walk until we found dinner. One thing we have found that we love about Munchen is the fact that there are always festivals, good food, beer, and markets. It took about 50m of walking until we found a huge festival with multiple musicians set up along the street and awesome food to be had. That night we experienced schnitzensimmel (flattened pork, breaded, and grilled/fried on a wonderful bun) from two places. The first one was horrible and cold... but once I saw a man carrying one from another place that was hot and crispy... I had to try it again. We also got another radler from the beer garden. We continued walking around. Daniel got some roasted cashews from a man that made fun of my accent, and we stopped to listen to an Irish rock band perform before taking the train home.

Munich was an amazing city. Daniel and I both agreed that of all the places we've had the pleasure to visit, that Munich felt most like "home". We loved the culture, the people, the food, the music, and the city vibe. We really hope that we can return to Germany again in the future.

Europe Trip Pt 1 (a poem by Irene)

Brooklyn giggles at D's fun
His biking antics are no where near done
In Brussels we ate tons of Frits
Irene was very much a ditz
Em bought a billion choco eggs
We all think she has really nice legs
In Paris we saw tons of art
For dessert we had a brown sugar pop-tart
Once we ate nothing but bread and cheese
We think the Heredia's are the best bee's knees.

Brugge!

We spent a day in the lovely town of Brugge. A quaint little tourist town, it was a lot like that Market Square in Brussels, but just smaller. Daniel decided that they had the best Frits. And the best frits is a very important and prestigious award. Belgiumites take their food seriously.
ALSO, Daniel got a HAIR CUT!! It was really about time, and not many people can say that they got their hairs cut by a Lebanese in Brugge, Belgium. He was the best hair cutter... ever. Edward Scissorhands personified. The whole time the girls just laughed and laughed as hair was falling to the ground and the hair man cut away. Good news is that Daniel's hair looks great!
The first part of the day we walked around Brugge and took in the sights by foot. The Gothic architecture is amazing, and the old cobble stones add to the old-time feel. After we ate lunch in the main square below the famous bell tower (and Daniel got his hair cut), we rented bikes and saw the rest of Brugge by bike. We saw 4 windmills, and lots of cute alley ways with colorful homes! We all agreed that biking Brugge is the best way to see the little town, and we all had so much fun doing something besides walking!
The train ride back to Brussels was filled with "would you rathers", funny questions, and great fellowship. I feel so blessed to be able to travel the world with some of the best people on this planet. Stay tuned for more pictures!

....True Story....

For a true story of our adventure... click HERE!

Market Day!

Head to Irene's blog for an awesome account of our market day in Brussels!

So One Time...

So one time I got shoved from room to room in the Chatau de Versailles. True story. Louis XIV knew how to do bling. Everything from the entrance gates, hallways, bedrooms, and kitchens...nothing was dull. As the King of Bling, he also housed many partners, diplomats, and important visitors. It was so awesome to walk through various rooms and a chapel and just look at all the detailed decorations. Elaborate paintings filled the cielings, gold plated crown moldings, deep colors on the walls, and marble floors were plenty. I've never been in a more beautiful building. And apparently no one else had either... and they were extremely eager to get through each room. At one point, as hundreds of people were filing into another room, a lady began pushing me from behind and using me as something similar to a riot shield. I think people lose their manners in large crowds. We've all experienced being shoved into one place or another so that some other tourist can have our spot. In the words of Stephanie Tanner, "How rude."

The Hall of Mirrors was one of the most spectacular rooms that I've ever been in. As you can see crystal chandeliers line the whole room, magnificent paintings scale the roof, and mirrors line the walls.
















So one time I went to the Eiffel Tower after visiting Versailles. Upon seeing the monument, D was impressed with the "structurally efficient design." It was bigger, and more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. I kept having to remind myself that I was actually there and NOT just seeing a replication somewhere in the US. It acutally exists. So strange. To save some cash money, we (actually they) decided we were going to hike up to the second viewing landing. That wasn't my idea of a good time... but I have to admit it was a good one! E didn't kick our butts by running up because she's is scared of heights... so she ended up going at a pace that I could hang with. as we began to rise over the city, the view became more and more spectacular. Paris is beautiful. The city is so old. Every building had character and wonderful details.
WWIII at the Woman's bathroom on the second landing almost broke out. It was pretty intense. There were Spanish ladies in front of use, Indian ladies behind us, and one French lady bathroom cleaner involved. At the tour they don't let many people into the bathroom at one time, so you have to wait in a line outside of a glass door. Well... a French lady was making the Spanish ladies mad because they had been waiting in line for at least 20 minutes to use the WC. And the French lady wouldn't let them in. Just as the French lady opened the door, an English lady squirmed her way though the long line with her daughter (all freightened and such) as her excuse and proclaimed " Excuuuuse me, my daughter... it's an emergency, she just can't wait any longer. AN EMERGENCY!" So, the Spanish ladies didn't get in after all! We all just kind of looked at one another, and half heartedly joke about our bathroom situation being an "emergency"... but it was about 10 minutes when a shade came down the bathroom window explaining in French that the lady was cleaning the bathrooms. Really?!?! While there are many many many people in line? When the Spanish ladies were already upset? And thats when everyone turned on the French lady.The Spanish ladies began banging on the glass door, the Indian ladies began laughing and yelling, and the English lady never came out of the bathroom... We left the line and decided to take the elevator to the top.
What. A. View.