Hungry and Slow . . .

The first in what I hope will be a long line of visitors in 2008 arrived last week. KyAn (spelled wrong so nobody can Google her, inside joke) a "she-friend" from way back in the days when I was spending an inordinate amount of time ordering from Pizza Patrol after polishing off another sixer of Old Style. Yes, the Fargo days.

Ahhh, college. The formative years. The chief value in higher education is, as George Edwin Howes said, "It's the only way to learn that it doesn't really matter." That's not to say I didn't learn a lot during my years on the great plains of North Dakota, but most of the knowledge I gained was found outside the lecture hall. Which leads me to another great quotation from that most profound of philosophers, Anonymous. "If all of the students who slept through lectures were laid end to end, they'd all be a lot more comfortable." Anonymous sure was a witty guy. Too bad he also had a hard time staying off the sauce.

While some may long to press rewind on life's VCR (that's what we had in the early 90's, kids) and go back to those days of dorms, dining halls, and debauchery, we at the Chronicle are comfortable in our soon to be mid 30's skin. It's not too bad chasing trains, reclining in Hungarian thermal baths, and swilling wine in the Slovenian countryside. I will readily admit that I'm not so hellbent on sampling the nightlife as much as I used to be. However, I derive a rush of endorphins from just deciphering bus / train time tables in the hopes of arriving at my appointed destination on time. It's not as easy as it sounds, folks. Trust me.

From Warsaw to Vienna to Budapest to Lake Balaton to Slovenia in a week with a 14 hour train ride back to Warsaw (switch trains twice) thrown in just to build character.

Seeing my bitter Croatian friend, Darko, in Vienna was a great beginning to the trip. Why is he bitter, you ask? Because he's Croatian! That's a little dig at him only because he is constantly trumpeting the virtues of his homeland while relentlessly ripping on my grandmother's birthplace. If there is one thing that former Yugoslavs enjoy, it's ethnic strife.

But the real highlight of the trip was the wine tasting at Saksida winery in the Vipava valley near the northern border with Italy. I will let the pictures speak for themselves: