On Unsubscribing

Let me preface this by saying that I have no issues with Spotify as a service. I have friends who swear by it. I tried it right when it came out. I happen to prefer Pandora, but that's not a strong indictment of Spotify. All this aside, I've had an atrocious experience as a Spotify customer.

Let's start with the emails. No offense, but I Do Not Care if a high school classmate who I rarely spoke to then and probably won't ever speak to again added a track to the playlist "Listened to on the radio and liked it!" I have better things to fill up my inbox. I especially don't need to be informed of this at multiple times during my day. Ok, deep breath. There are laws about this. Any marketing email must have an operable unsubscribe method at the bottom. Further, this unsubscribe cannot require you to do anything more complex than enter your email address. I don't make the rules--I just follow them. Spotify doesn't.

I follow the link in the bottom of the email to change my "email preferences"--as if I prefer receiving any email at all. Not so fast. Log in. Don't remember your password because you haven't used the service in a year? Click here to retrieve your password. I log in and unsubscribe from all updates. The friendly little green man informs me that my changes may take up to 10 days to take effect. That makes sense. An entirely digital service running on hardware that makes millions of decisions a second is going to take 10 days to realize that I don't want email. Whatever. At least I won't get any more emails.

Wrong! 10 days go by, and I still get 1-2 emails a day about meaningless crap. Spotify, we're through. And it's not me... it's you. After wading deep into the support section to find a contact form, I inform the kind customer service rep in measured terms that--thank you but no thank you--I will not be continuing with your service. Please delete my account. I don't know why you need to know my zip code, the name of my unborn firstborn child, and my deepest darkest secrets in order to delete my account, but after what you've put me through I guess I'll do it because I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. "We're sorry to see you go. Hopefully we'll see you again some time." Don't count on it.

A few more days pass. ANOTHER EMAIL! This must be a joke. My zombie Spotify account is exacting revenge from beyond the grave. I'm done with measured responses. An unfortunate customer service agent is going to get a piece of my mind. I go to Spotify.com and find the link to the contact form. "Please log in to submit your question." This is a sick, sick joke. Spotify, why do you hate me?

Now you might be thinking snidely to yourself, "You have no idea what it's like to run a software business! Why would you allow people to easily unsubscribe from your service?" I would respond to this straw man by saying that I do know how to run a software business--and further, I've been doing just that for the past year now. If you're my client, I don't want you to subscribe simply because you can't figure out how to unsubscribe. If you aren't in love with the software I create, I don't want your money. Simple as that.

In pursuit of this goal, we've implemented a self-service mechanism for our clients at Waiter d' to activate and deactivate their account on a monthly basis. Pick a random ski resort town with highly seasonal traffic--say Park City, UT. Restaurants don't want to pay for an electronic wait list during the summer when they never have a wait. Responding to this feedback, we inserted a "Suspend Account" button into the account administration screen. This allows customers to activate and deactivate their account at their leisure. The kicker? We'll save all their data until they decide to come back! They can pick up right where they left off (we also allow all data to be easily exported in a variety of formats).

You may think that I'm making a mountain out of a mole hill here, but I think that the two approaches to unsubscribing are more than just a difference in execution--they are a difference in attitude. Taking the stance that your customers will flee if you let them doesn't seem like a successful or fulfilling way to run a business. I'd rather treat my customers with the respect they deserve--like the very lifeblood of my business. Because they are.

The Holy war that is HTML5 vs. Native

What follows below is an email I wrote today to a smart but non-technical friend in response to a question about HTML5 vs. native app development. Yes, there are small technical inaccuracies. However, before you start a flame war, ask yourself if the errors really hinder the original goal of informing a friend about the differences between HTML5 and native apps.

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Let me preface this by saying that the HTML5 vs. Native debate is a religious one. There are zealots on both sides. Being the cool-headed and scrutinizing moderate that I fancy myself, I can see the merits of both.

The difference boils down to accessibility vs. capability.

HTML5 is much more accessible. Because it's being accessed through the browser, one can access an HTML5 app from a myriad of devices (I know I'm holding your hand a bit here but bear with me). I'll give you an example. I was selling Waiter d', our restaurant software app, the other day and I realized that the restaurant POS was running Windows. Without writing a single line of code, I downloaded Chrome (IE was already on there, but it's a piece of [redacted]) and the app was fully functional running on their POS--a piece of hardware they already own. That was a pretty cool moment. 

Developing for multiple platforms is incredibly resource intensive. If you want to be legit, you have to have some combination of an iOS team, an Android team, a Windows team, a Mac OSX team, a Blackberry team (not for long, but for a long time this was essential for enterprise apps), and possibly another team or two depending on your target market. Each of these platforms require their own experts. This means that the most senior member of the iOS team wouldn't even be able to get hired on the Windows team. There just isn't as much overlap as you would think.

This is a digression, but I want to tell you a little story. When the Internet was invented, it couldn't do [redacted]. It could serve static webpages and the browsers could sometimes render them correctly. The Internet is only as powerful as it's end clients (in this case the browser). Any type of information can travel over the wire, but if the browser can't interpret it, then you're S.O.L. I'll give you a very technical example and hope that I don't lose you. Cascading Style Sheets, or CSS, are what is used to make a web page appear the way that it does. Designers can only style webpages in the way that CSS allows them. A very specific example of this is rounded corners on page elements. Look at any webpage from 2001. There will be zero rounded corners. Look at every single attractive webpage today. Rounded corners everywhere. This is because a few years ago, rounded corners were added to CSS. In practical terms, this means that the people programming browsers (like the people making Chrome. I'm not talking about people writing webpages here.) taught them that when the stylesheet contains "div { border-radius: 4px; }" that means that all of the "div" elements should have corners rounded off at a 4 pixel radius. Before that point, rounded corners simply weren't an option. Sorry for the injection of code there, I couldn't help myself.

Moving on. In 2004 some people got together (they eventually joined a group called the W3C or the World Wide Web Consortium), and they said "hey, everyone is doing all of these crazy things to try and stretch HTML to make web "apps" as opposed to web "pages". It was a bit of an identity crisis for the web. People wanted to do more with it--think Facebook, Pandora, Google Docs, Asana--than it was really designed to do. The way to fix this is to say "We're going to write down a bunch of very specific rules. Then we're going to give these rules to Mozilla, Google, Microsoft, and other so that all of their browsers behave the same way when they encounter the same HTML." If this weren't the case then application developers would be writing a Chrome version, a Safari version, and an Internet Explorer version. All of the sudden we're right back in the same multi-platform quagmire we started in. Anyway, the W3C is a "standards body" that makes sure that all of the browsers work reasonably similarly. (There are still "cross-browser inconsistencies" that exist in some of the rarer cases, and they are literally the bane of a web developers' existence.) To be clear, these private companies are free to develop whatever browser they would like. The only authority the W3C has is that they have a quorum of browser makers, so if you depart from their standard, you will be the only one and your browser will be incompatible with the web pages/apps people are writing for all of the other browsers.

Getting there. The W3C has been around since the dawn of time. However, the specific action this splinter group took in 2004 was to start work on an "HTML5 standard". These are the aforementioned rules that the browser makers are supposed to follow. The important thing about HTML5 was that it was supposed to bring web app capabilities to HTML. These capabilities included things like geolocation, local storage, and websockets. Geolocation allows web developers to access the physical location of the computer (only if the end user allows it). Local storage allows web developers to store data and application files directly on the user's computer. Before HTML5, they either had to store the data on their servers or they lost it as soon as the user quit the browser. For certain use cases, this capability is essential. Finally, websockets allowed web developers to "push" information to the browser. Previously, the web developer had no access to the user once the page was downloaded. Think web chat. Not possible IN A BROWSER without websockets. All the information about what is to be displayed simply isn't available at the time the user downloads the webpage. HTML5 includes a ton of other changes to HTML, but they are similar in that they attempt to give the browser application-like abilities. 

This was all a grand plan, and in my mind it largely succeeded. HTML5 is awesome to work with because you "write once and run anywhere". However, critics will tell you that HTML5 fell short of its goal--they are also right. For instance, you can't access a phone's camera from the browser. Instagram is impossible using HTML5 as it stands today. My thinking is that HTML5, which is still evolving, will slowly gain more and more of the capabilities of native apps. For instance, access to hardware like the camera is slowly being implemented. As another example, geolocation has already been implemented. If your device has GPS, then HTML5 can use it.

The difference goes deeper than just features though. Native apps also have a decided performance advantage. Native apps run much closer to the hardware. (I don't know if I'm going to lose you here.) This means that there are fewer layers of software sitting between the user and the CPU. Because of this, everything runs faster. Think of it as a game of telephone. In this case, each person in the telephone chain is a layer of software. Users talk to native apps, native apps talk to the operating system, and the operating system talks to the hardware. Whereas users have to talk to HTML5 apps which talk to the browser, the browser talks to the operating system, and the operating system talks to the hardware. On top of that, web apps often use a framework like Ruby on Rails or Django which adds another pseudo-layer between the user and the hardware. Every layer both slows things down and makes them less fluent. 

The indisputable fact is that native apps have a performance advantage. However, this needs to be weighed against the resources that it takes to develop on disparate platforms. Like I said--capability vs. accessibility. 

Killing Birds with Stones

Almost before the tires chirped on the tarmac at Rome's Fiumicino airport, we were accosted by peddlers trying to sell tourists all manner of goods and services. Our first and only experience being swindled occurred before we left the airport. Curious as to why one train to the city seemed to be 8 euro and the other one 14 euro, we approached the desk labeled "Tourist Information." They explained the difference and casually mentioned that there was a shuttle bus that would take us right to our hotel for 15 euro. Sounds like a great deal. Why not? Only as we were waiting for the "next scheduled shuttle departure" did we realize that the "tourist information desk" was a "shuttle service sales office". After an hour and a half in Rome traffic, we were made painfully aware of our mistake. We had heard that Rome was expensive, but the British couple sharing the shuttle with us put it best when they said they felt like they were "spewing euros."

Quick to recover, we caught a bus to the Trastevere neighborhood which is known for its restaurants and night life. There we met up with a teammate of mine, Tommaso, for the first of many long leisurely meals. The Italians have a well deserved reputation for culinary excellence.

First of many good recommendations

After dinner, as is traditional, we went to play beach volleyball. Actually, we ended up playing beach volleyball entirely due to a miscommunication. We thought we were going to watch beach volleyball but ended up playing it instead. We played versus Tommaso's friends (America vs. The World). Naturally, America came out on top.

Watch out, Park City

At just after midnight, Tommaso convinced us that the night was young, and we took off to sample the nightlife. Even though we had only been on the ground for six hours, everyone we met seemed to be outraged that we hadn't seen the Colosseum yet.

Great guy

The next morning we met up with Tommaso and friends for some coffee (apparently when you order "coffee" they give you espresso). They gave us some advice on what to see, and we began wandering around the city.

Il Vittoriano

We got lunch with Tommaso at another restaurant he recommended--this time in the Jewish ghetto. If the first try hadn't convinced us, this meal taught us to always follow Tommaso's recommendations.
Walking around the center of Rome, one can't help but stumble upon thousand year old ruins. It seems that on every street block there is an excavation site with surprisingly intact columns and walls.

Random ruins

By midday we were finally ready to see the Colosseum. I have rarely if ever seen something so impressive. The structure is entirely recognizable as a stadium. It is still in good enough shape that visitors can walk its corridors and climb its steps. The structure bears an uncanny resemblence to modern stadiums. It was easy to imagine 100,000 Romans streaming in the gates, eating, drinking, and cheering.

Colosseo

A little tired from the hot sun, we decided to call it for sight seeing, grab some food, and get ready to go out with Tommaso again. Italians may have invented the biggest innovation in fast food since the hamburger. Instead of selling pizza by the slice, they sell it "by the cut." That means that they have gigantic square pizzas precooked and you simply tell them how big of a piece you want. They weigh it, and you pay by the pound. They seem to be more creative with their pizza recipes as well. Might have something to do with their several hundred year head start. Andy and I frequented an embarrassing number of these establishments during our time in Rome.

Tour guide Tommaso is going to kill me, but I don't remember the name of this fountain

The next morning we geared up for an aggressive day of sightseeing. On the agenda: the Roman forum, Vatican City, and a ruined Roman port town. We started in the forum which is an impressive set of ruins remaining from the heart of ancient Rome. A short subway ride later, and we were at the Vatican. Ten seconds after stepping off the subway, we were stormed by tour guides offering for us to "skip the line" and take their tour for 35 euro. Before long, we realized there were so many that we didn't even have time to politely decline their offers--we just had to ignore them. As we progressed through the day, the only line we waited in was a security line--which I'm pretty sure you're not allowed to skip.
We reached St. Peter's Basilica, and I was struck with a strange feeling of deja vu for having seen the place so many times in movies, on TV, and in pictures. It was odd to be seeing it in person for the first time. As soon as we stepped inside, I was almost moved to tears it was so beautiful. The basilica itself is a gigantic open span with every single surface covered in ornate decoration. The walls host paintings and sculpture. The floor is patterned with marble. And the ceiling is encrusted in gold accents. Words are wholely inadequate to describe the impression it makes.

One of many altars

We progressed through the Vatican Museum which was unfairly overshadowed by St. Peter's Basilica on the front end and the Sistine Chapel on the back end.
After finishing our tour of Vatican City, we took a train south to Ostia Antica which is an entire town of Roman ruins. The amphitheater was still in usable condition--almost 2000 years after it was built.

Sorry for crashing your wedding

Tommaso told us in no uncertain terms that we wouldn't get into the club dressed like Americans, so we did our best to dress in local garb. We failed.

Strut

With only a few sites left on our bucket list, we took a mental health day and slept in until 2 PM. We did manage to see the Pantheon, Trevi Fountain, and the Spanish steps. We also learned the imporant lesson that when walking by a church, even if it looks nondescript, you should go inside. Time and again we were blown away by churches with stunning interiors that didn't look like anything special on the outside.

Average Roman church

We ate a nice long dinner at a resaurant where wine was literally cheaper than coca-cola.
In the morning, we woke up and got some (what else?) pizza. We wandered around a bit waiting for our train to depart. We found the American embassy and said our hellos then headed to the train station. So long, Rome.

Prague

We arrived in Prague on a train from Dresden at midnight, and we were met with an immediate display of Czech hospitality. A grungy disheveled man with a 5 o'clock shadow and slightly fewer than the normal allotment of teeth offered in broken english to take us to his hostel. While I'm sure he offers nothing but the most comfortable of rooms and model service, we had to decline his offer due to the fact that we had already booked a hotel.
With no money and no inkling as to the exchange rate, we knew our chances of buying a metro ticket were slim. We eventually found the ticket machine and who was there to help us? None other than the friendly hostel owner. We found a foreign exchange shop, and though it was closed, the prices were still published on the sign. As we haggled with the hostel owner over how many koruna we were to buy and at what price, a second helpful Prague resident shuffled over. He proferred metro tickets and offered to sell them at half the normal price. We just can't go anywhere in this country without somebody offering to help us out! The first scammer started yelling something in Czech, and the two began to argue over whose Americans these were to scam. We obtained just enough money to buy our tickets (from the machine) and get out of the station as quickly as possible. Koruna bought: 400. Scammers averted: 2. Lost travellers: 2.
After getting off at our metro stop, we still had no clue how to reach our hotel. Czech city planners didn't see fit to put street signs on each corner. Instead, they have street signs every few blocks pointing in the direction one would go to REACH a street instead of the direction the street travels.

Helpful street sign

Needless to say, we were a little frustrated at this point and felt like sitting ducks wearing backpacks on the outskirts of Prague at 12:30 in the morning. We eventually found the hotel which was Swiss and way nicer than necessary.
We woke up to one of the most charming, beautiful cities I've ever seen. Every street is narrow, crooked, and made of cobblestones. The shops and apartments are painted brightly. The whole place seems to be from a different epoch (probably because it is).

Just charming

I wanted to send some flowers home to Mom, but they told me that was going to be too expensive. Instead of mailing them home, I'm just going to blog them home.

Hi, Mom!

Without trying, we stumbled upon an exquisite gold adorned church. This was an experience we would have many times before leaving the city. Every corner is a candidate for a beautiful bell tower, an old church, or a work of sculpture.

Notice the man in the foreground telling me not to take pictures... oops

We hiked up a small hill and came to the Prague castle--the number one attraction in Prague. The castle is an enormous complex of buildings, but by far the most impressive one was the cathedral. American cathedrals simply cannot compare to their European counterparts (I'm no expert, but I've seen a cathedral or two in my 22 years).

Step up your game, America

We walked around the city for quite some time because the whole thing seems to be one gigantic work of art. We eventually wandered across Karluv Most which is a bridge across the main river running through the city. Along the bridge on each side are gigantic Christian sculptures along with countless street vendors.
We headed for a nice dinner on a riverboat which cost us a fraction what it would have in the US. On our way, we witnessed the remnants of the once powerful Occupy Czech movement.

Fight the good fight

After dinner we headed for the Euro 2012 fan park in the Old Town Square. In addition to continuing our streak of the home team winning their soccer game in every city we visit, we got to see the square lit up at night.

Old Town Square

We woke up the next morning and enjoyed some fresh local cuisine.

Eat fresh

Turns out McDonald's in other countries have different menus. In addition to the Big Mac, this one offered the McSmazjek (don't know how to spell OR pronounce this one). The McSmazjek is a beautiful creation of which any cook would be proud. It consists of a thick slice of cheese shaped like a hamburger patty breaded and deep fried and served on a bun with a mayonnaise based sauce. In the name of trying local delicacies, I ate one. Mistake.
We walked around the middle of the city and checked out the National Museum. Being a little museumed out, we opted for the external tour only. For dinner we visited one of the top 5 microbreweries in Prague (according to God knows who on the Internet). We ate our pork knuckles, sausage, and saurkraut as workers brewed the next batch in gigantic cisterns 10ft from our table. Despite passing on several restaurants linterally named "Typical Czech Restaurant," I think we found some traditional Czech food where we went.

The brewery might have been micro, but the mugs were not

The next morning, we walked around the center of the city, ate a little bit of food, and waited for our afternoon flight. In our ample wanderings of Prague, we found that there are no shortage of three things--money exchange shops, souveneir shops, and American fast food restaurants. One can never be more than an arm's length away from all three at the same time.

It's great to have choices

With a half hour to kill before our train, we decided to try our luck at blackjack. We chose what seemed to be a reputable establishment and bought in.

Andy had a Happy Day

We made our way to the airport and through minimal security to our flight. We landed in Rome with bright eyes and bushy tails--ready to carpe the diem.

Last Day in Berlin

Check out time was 11 AM, so we slept in just a bit, checked out, and hit the road for our final day in Berlin. Andy said a teary goodbye to the Amstel House as we left.

Tears

Our first stop was the Olympic Stadium. Predictably, they wanted 5 Euro for us to actually go in and look around, but we contented ourselves to walk around the outside. Seeing the stadium was cool because it is huge and old and historically important.

Tiny Andy at the bottom

We grabbed an enormous bratwurst from the vendor just outside the stadium and headed off to see a palace for which my hopes weren't too high. I ended up being blown away. The Charlottenburg Palace was an enormous building stretching what seemed like a quarter mile end to end. Behind the palace lies one of the biggest, most beautiful gardens I've ever seen (better than Mom's in the size category only, of course). The garden was so big that it seemed to be a sort of public park with locals running and walking their dogs.

Charlottenburg Palace

Nestled in the garden were all sorts of hidden gems such as the family mausoleum.

Mausoleum

Eerily realistic marble sculptures on sarcophagi

We made our last stop in Berlin at the world famous Berlin Zoo. Confusingly, we seemed to be visiting on the day when only small children and their parents went to the zoo. Everyone our age must have been busy today. We saw all kinds animalistic behavior including a monkey indulging his sexual urge, two lions wrestling over a gigantic slab of meat, and elephants sucking dirt up their noses and spraying it on their foreheads. That just can't be a smart decision.

This is how I imagine Patrick if he were a monkey

We grabbed our last kebap and headed to catch our train to Prague. Throughout our trip, the language barrier has been a definite impediment to progress. Sometimes German is intuitive--almost as easy to understand as English. Other times you wonder where all the spaces went. And sometimes you just have to give up.

This obviously means "Surfin', chattin', and mailin'" which are all reasonable things to do at an Internet cafe

This is a museum about Andy and me

The spacebar hasn't yet reached Germany

I don't know what this says, but no language could possibly explain what is going on in the second panel

Day 2 in Berlin

We set out for a full day of touring Berlin. A tiny bakery provided an incredibly cheap breakfast, and we were off to Alexanderplatz (Alexander Square). As far as we could tell, this was just a city square with shopping, street vendors, and street performers.

You just don't see this kind of innovation in America

Alexanderplatz lies at the base of the Berlin TV tower. We opted not to go up because of the huge line, wait, and cost. 

TV tower

The street performers here are really world class. We've seen tons of them, and every group is truly impressive. I'm going to place them a half step above the average street performer in New York.

He claims it was an accident

Crossing the Spree River, we arrived on Museum Island. It has at least five gigantic museums whose facades alone were worth a walk around. They also had one of the most profound series of sculpture I've ever seen.

I call this one "Naked Man on a Horse Killing a Lion Killing his Horse"

I call this one "Naked Woman on a Horse Killing a Jaguar Killing Her Horse"

I call this one "Naked Woman Tickling a Horse with Wings Under the Chin"

We stumbled on a flea market, resisted buying anything, and continued on to the German Historical Museum. So far, this museum has been one of the highlights of the trip. It had all sorts of awesome stuff like suits of armor, old (read "wrong") maps, and WWII pariphenalia. The German treatment of WWII was interesting almost because it was unremarkable. Andy and I agreed that it wasn't much different than what you would find in, say, the Holocaust Museum in Washington D.C. I was curious to see how they would cast it, but I found no glaring omissions or sugarcoating.

First depiction of the World as a globe. North and South America are omitted.

From the Historical Museum, we took the subway to Checkpoint Charlie. We found it hugely underwhelming. All that remains is a small shack in the middle of the street, a sign denoting the border, and a huge number of shops and street vendors trying to profit off of tourists. A man dressed in period military garb held an American flag and wore a sign suggesting that he would pose for pictures for 2 Euro. I couldn't tell if he smoked his cigarette as part of his act or out of boredom. He didn't fool me. He wasn't a real American soldier.

Didn't fool me

Unable to find anything else worth seeing at Checkpoint Charlie, we took the subway to the Berlin Wall Memorial. The memorial (one of several in the city) consisted of a mile long stretch of the original wall in place. On the east-facing side, artists had painted elaborate murals. As we walked along the wall, we discussed how surreal the idea of separating a city with a 12ft wall is. But the wall stood just over 20 years ago. We wondered what our children will look back on in 20 years and find completely incomprehensible.

Hoya Saxa

We returned to the hostel, regrouped, and launched on an odyssey of a night. Any hope of understanding the night requires the knowledge that Germany won their first Euro 2012 soccer game about an hour after we left the hostel. Our original mission was to buy our train ticket for the next day and then find a bar to watch the second half of the game. However, in the main station, we were waylaid by an enthusiastic fan as we ate our doner kebap on a bench. He staggered up to our bench and politely shook both of our hands before swaying a bit and offering us each a generous helping of Jim Beam in plastic cups he had procured for the occassion. Despite the soothing familiarity of Kentucky Bourbon, we refrained from joining his gulping enjoyment. He didn't speak a word of english, and the only word of his that I understood was "Polish". As it happened, we had been silently sharing the bench with a fellow American until our partially concious, German soccer apparel-clad Polish friend (we'll call him Jim Beam) arrived. As he slurred a request for a cigarette lighter to every police officer in the station, we got to know the American lady and ended up talking to her for 45 minutes until the first wave of German revelers reached our station from downtown. In one last act of generosity, Jim Beam gifted us with the rest of his Jim Beam and stumbled off to get a good night's sleep.


As we had seen the day before, a gigantic party had been set up at the Brandenburg Gate. We hopped on the subway to go check out the scene. Thanks to a conspicuous lack of open container laws, Andy and I had consumed one or two German beers. When we arrived at the gate, we realized how woefully far behind we had fallen. 

Jumbotron erected in front of the gate

I would call the scene we encountered "aftermath", but the party seemed to just be getting started. Thousands of people remained even an hour after the victory. Cups littered the ground such that we couldn't walk without crushing them. This was a celebration of a German win in the OPENING GAME OF THE TOURNAMENT.

Andy conducting relations with the locals

Having witnessed the German soccer enthusiasm (insanity) firsthand, we returned to the hostel and went to bed.

The Blind Leading the Deaf in Berlin

Carpe Daemon has been temporarily hijacked and converted to a travel blog.

I awoke from my drug-induced coma as the tires screeched on the tarmac at the Frankfurt airport. After a night of travelling and a stop in Ottawa, Andy and I were finally in Germany. We weren't quite to our final destination in Berlin and we had missed our flight, so we accidentally stumbled in a half stupor to the Lufthansa first class ticket counter and received the best service one could hope for. The kind customer service agent found it in her heart to solve our problems rather than banishing us to the normal people's ticket counter (wherever that was) where we belonged.

First leg

Another landing in Berlin. Another slow ascent from unconsciousness. Somehow our bags made it all the way, so we strapped them on and got ready to do Berlin.

I've never found myself in a more disorienting public transportation nightmare. We found a ticket machine which helpfully only displayed German, so we tried our luck at the ticket counter. After waiting in line for a while, I had a nice conversation with the gentleman behind the counter which consisted of me pointing to our destination subway stop and him explaining to me--in German--that he only spoke German. Perfect. We just travelled for 16 hours and 5,000 miles and we couldn't make it out of the airport.

We finally found a map, an english speaker, and some tickets, and we were on our way.

Upon arriving at the hostel, we checked in with no problems. The room has four beds and a private bathroom. Nothing fancy but will definitely get the job done. We splashed some water on our faces, called it a shower, and headed out the door. We found the place on the map where the most roads came together and aimed for it figuring that it must be interesting if so many people want to get there.

This brought us to the Victory Column... to which Andy responded "which victory?" Good question. I'm sure Wikipedia knows, but I don't. We paid a small fee for the privilege of climbing 250 stairs to the top and an awesome view of Berlin.

Victory Column

View from the top (the television tower is visible in the distance)

We walked through the Tiergarten (their version of Central Park, as far as I can tell) to the Reichstag which houses the German Parliament.

The Reichstag

A short walk from the Reichstag and we arrived at the Brandenburg Gate. Unfortunately, Euro 2012 is going on right now, and a huge party is set up in and around the gate. The tournament is in Poland, but apparently that doesn't dampen the revelry.

Brandenburg Gate

Near the Brandenburg Gate, the US Embassy gave us solace in our throes of homesickness.

Little slice of home

Adjacent to the gate, we found the Holocaust Memorial. Andy politely informed me that we were not to jump from stone to stone. Why would they separate the stones a perfect jumping distance and then forbid people to jump between them? Regardless, the memorial was quite imposing.

Holocaust Memorial (Brandenburg Gate and Reichstag in background)

Our culinary exploration began at a restaurant near the Memorial. Despite an imposing language barrier between myself and the owner, we came to an understanding. What was clear to everyone involved was that I had money and he had beer and schnitzel and we were both willing to make a trade. In the end, this sentiment prevailed, and we sat down for our first meal.

The First Supper

Adrift and out of our element, we miraculously stumbled on another piece of home. Across the restaurant we spotted Ari Brown (a fellow Princetonian) and his high school classmate. Unfortunately, a blinding flame leapt in front of his face just as the waitress snapped the photo. Thankfully he was ok.

Princeton reunion

We concluded our day by taking the cleanest subway in the world through the coolest train station in the world.

Berlin-Hauptbahnhof

As we boarded the final subway back to the hospital, a man approached and asked us a question about his subway route. He didn't really use words, but I had become desensitized to this fact from an entire day of bombardment by stray French, Italian, German, and Spanish conversations. Miraculously, I knew the answer to his question, and he walked away to report back to his group... in sign language. I can't think of a better way for the day to come full circle than an oblivious foreigner explaining the Berlin subway to a man who doesn't hear or speak.