Drinking Trip Hampered by Bouts of Boating

On October 26, 2024October 25, 2024 By TommyIn From the Archives, The Lindeman DailyLeave a comment

Excitement abounded as T. Lindeman stepped off the plane in Amsterdam for a trip that, he hoped, would make his liver expand to shapes and sizes heretofore unknown.

“Like the end of How the Grinch Stole Christmas,” explained Lindeman. “Except instead of my heart growing three times larger because of the Christmas cheer in Whoville, it would be my liver because of all the beer in Amsterdam.”

Lindeman arrived with a group from the Fairmount Rowing Association, his rowing club in Philadelphia. The team had traveled across the Atlantic to race in the 51st Annual Heineken Regatta on the Amstel River.

“With proper nouns like that,” said Lindeman, “the real reason for the trip was clear. ‘Heineken’? ‘Amstel’? Let’s just say the forecast called for beer.” The forecast also called for rain; it rained most of Lindeman’s time in Amsterdam.

With drinking on the brain and an afternoon arrival, Lindeman joined some of his teammates for dinner and a quick pint at a local watering hole. As 2AM loomed and his pillow sang a siren’s song, Lindeman left his team and went on autopilot.

“Tommy [Lindeman] has this thing he does in Europe,” said a source close to Lindeman that requested to remain anonymous because it was his brother. “It’s like a pre-bed ritual. Some people remove their makeup, some put their hair up or clean their ears. Some people even floss and brush their teeth. Tommy lumbers around whatever town he’s in until he finds a kebab, then brings it to his hotel and absolutely houses it all over his bed. If you’ve ever shared a room with him in Europe, you know what I’m talking about. And I’m sorry.”

The following morning, surrounded by pita crumbs and shredded lettuce, Lindeman rose with the sun, planning for a day of pancakes and beer. This would be the first time of many that his plans would be interrupted.

“The team wanted to practice,” bemoaned Lindeman. “So we had to head out to the boathouse where we were borrowing a boat for the race, rig the boat, check over our seats to make sure they were ready, and then practice rowing down the race course.

“It really got in the way of our being the ABC — Amsterdam Booze Crew.”

When asked for comment about the ABC, Lindeman’s teammates responded, “What? That’s not a thing.”

With practice over, the team stopped for lunch at a pub near the race course. It was here where the first signs of a schism in the squad began to show.

“There were some older folks in the group who began referring to each guy in the boat as either an ‘old guy’ or a ‘young guy’,” said one of the ‘old guys’. “And after lunch, the ‘old guys’ wanted to go drinking, while the ‘young guys’ wanted to take in some culture. So we split up.”

Lindeman, at 31, was somehow considered a ‘young guy’ — and one of the younger ‘young guys’ at that. But he joined neither group when they split.

“I was tired, so I went to nap.”

Telling words from the self-proclaimed and only confirmed member of the Amsterdam Booze Crew.

With two days of racing ahead, the team had to forego another night on the town. “‘Another Night Falls Victim To Priorities’ — there’s your headline,” quipped Lindeman unhelpfully. Early the next morning, he joined the team at the boathouse, where they launched, raced, and returned to the dock, all inside of a short four hours.

After a quick dinner with the team, Lindeman joined a few of the ‘young guys’ for a pint (which was limited to only a pint) before they rested and went to bed ahead of the second day of racing. “Another opportunity to ABC — Always Be(er) Crushing — ruined. ‘Evening Blimey Stymied By Aquatic Past-Timey’ — there’s a great headline you can use free-of-charge!” offered Lindeman, generously presenting another terrible headline.

The second day of racing consisted of two back-to-back races, and their final placement was decided by the sum of time from all three of that weekend’s races (the 5k time trial on day one, and the 2.5k time trial and 500m duel on day two).

“Not too shabby of a showing!” said one of the ‘old guys’. “We finished in the middle of the pack. If first is first, and last is last, and everything else is the middle of the pack, we finished in the middle of the pack.”

For Lindeman, this meant the rowing interruptions of the trip would finally cease, and he could get to work: “‘At Long Last, Lindeman Libates…Liberally,’” he shared with a wide smile. “Feel free to use that for your article, the fans will love it!”

After showering off with an enormous group of men from all over the world, the team went to the finish line where Heineken had set up a large bar in the Nereus boathouse. With wet whistles, they continued on to a pub for lunch and further drinks. Lindeman later led a crew to the Heineken factory for a tour and tasting. “If there’s anything more exciting than drinking beer, it’s seeing how it’s made! And the perfect opportunity to ABC — Alotta (sic) Beers, Cool!”

The rest of the team’s time in Amsterdam was a blur of Heineken, Van Gogh, breweries, Heineken, pubs, blushing past red-lit windows, kebabs, and Heineken. Looking back on the trip, Lindeman gave his final thoughts.

“Honestly, the rowing was probably my favorite part… off-the-record, of course,” he noted with a wink. “But being grouped in with the ‘young guys,’ I need to be seen as hip and cool and fun. ABC, am I right? Awesome Beer Chap! So how about this for a title: ‘Drinking Trip Hampered By Bouts of Boating.’

“Nah, that’s no good.”

Zurich: Cheese, Lakes, Cheese, Mountains, Cheese, and Cheese

On July 8, 2024July 6, 2024 By TommyIn Minifig, Big World, Non-Daily Dispatch, TraveloguesLeave a comment

In September 2022, Lauren and I traveled to Zurich. It was always tough to travel together during her medical residency, as time off was rare and trying to organize flights to maximize our time within a very short window was a headache. After a failed trip to Greece during her intern year (our March 2020 trip cut short after just a few days when the President announced the border would be closed because of the rising threat of COVID-19), we didn’t often entertain the idea of trips to far-off lands during the remainder of her training.

That is, until her fourth year, when between a wedding I was attending in Turkey and her own bachelorette party, we saw a window of opportunity: 4-5ish days where we could meet up somewhere new.

I looked at places that would be both convenient for Lauren to fly to from Philly, and for me to fly to from Turkey. And after a lengthy search, I found that Zurich ticked our required boxes for timing.

Lauren would fly right after work on Saturday, and land Sunday afternoon. And I would fly early in the morning on Sunday, in the wee hours after dancing all night at the wedding, and land Sunday just before her. The perfect plan!

Despite airline strikes in Germany, we arrived on time and met up at the airport. After the appropriate amount of canoodling hellos, we headed into Zurich to check into our hotel, the Zurich Marriott Hotel. The Marriott was in a great spot for us: right along the main river thoroughfare and an easy walk to anywhere we wanted to go. And unlike a lot of European hotels, the beds would actually fit my uncomfortably long bod.

We wanted to make the most of our time in Zurich, while letting each experience breathe and not get too rushed between dozens of activities. So we divided each day into a theme and organized our events accordingly:

Day 0: Arrival and Exploring the Town
Day 1: Hike Day
Day 2: Lake Day
Day 3: Museum & Culture Day
Day 4: Departure

This let us really dial into the different experiences we were interested in. If there’s anything more exciting than fun, it’s regimented fun!

Day 0: Exploring the Town

After dropping our bags at the hotel, we took a stroll along the Limmat River into town. As we walked by, we saw people swimming in the river all the way down to Lake Zurich, which got us quite excited for our Lake Day. But that wouldn’t be coming for a while, so we buried our excitement deep down and continued walking to town.

We strolled through Old Town, passing wieners and beer places galore. I was obviously in heaven, but wanted to save my appetite for dinner. We found the Grossmünster, a church built in the 1100-1200s with two huge towers (one of the most famous landmarks in Zurich, probably?), and climbed to the top of one for a great view of the city and lake. And Lauren didn’t even burst into flames after entering a church!

I tried snapping a few pics of my minifig, thinking I’d rekindle my Instagram account, though I never posted them. Until now! Behold!

Based on how nothing is actually in focus, I’m realizing why I never posted this one.

This is actually not taken from the top of the tower, it’s an illusion. Don’t jump, Minifig!

Things were heating up, and anyone that knows me knows that even looking at a single stair can cause my sweat to flow like a river in Switzerland, so we stopped outside the opera house by the Grossmünster at a little cafe. There, we sat in a classic European square and had a classic European refreshment: the Aperol spritz.

Ah, the Aperol spitz… what an experience! Colorful and chilled, bitter and burp-inducing. A treat to be sure, and a welcome one.

As it was getting close to dinner time, we walked across the river, across the cobblestones, to Restaurant Zeughauskeller. There we sat outside and had beer and sausage, wine and charcuterie. Heaven for us both.

Restaurant Zeughauskeller (god bless you) is inside an old 15th century armory. Weapons and armor adorn the walls, though the Swiss are notoriously a neutral, non-warring folk. But it makes for great decor.

The food was traditional Swiss fare, with recipes dating back generations. I gobbled down a good number of wiener and had some delicious local beers, while Lauren sampled the famed Riesling from nearby Germany.

And after dinner, full enough to burst, we decided to walk it off. Hand-in-hand, we ambled along the river again, back to the hotel for sleep. Nothing more romantic than a stroll through the European autumn, someone might say (probably).

Day 1: Lake Day

Lake Day! Everyone loves a lake day. Our buried excitement from seeing the swimmers the day before bubbled out of us with all the force of a cheese on the lactose intolerant. We put on our trunks and swim suits and headed back east to big old Lake Zurich. Our destination was a little farther than anticipated, but we were able to stop for sausages on the way to replenish our energy.

We paid to enter the “pool” at Stranded Tiefenbrunnen, which had lockers, bathrooms, and a large section of lakefront with some diving platforms we could swim out too. No actual pool, but that’s Europe for you. We spent our day lounging on the grass, reading, and swimming in the water. It was incredibly clear and fresh water, so we didn’t have to get anything from the snack bar when we got thirsty!

After hours of lounging, swimming, and generally frolicking, we dried off and headed back into town for dinner. Right outside the Grössmunster, we grabbed a table at Restaurant Le Dezaley Zurich, where we split a pot of fondu.

Fondu is a famously Zurich dish, though it is typically saved for cold winter months when people need a hot cheese to warm up and get all their gas out to heat their homes. But many places will still serve it year round, and having been in the crisp mountain lake water all day, we were ready to be warmed. It was expectedly delicious.

With bellies full of cheese and Aperol spritz, we again made the walk back to our hotel to sleep and rest up for our big active day.

Day 2: Hike Day

After guzzling wieners and bowls of cheese, we knew we would need an active day on our itinerary to earn such tasty treats. So we planned for a day spent hiking the mountains of Switzerland. Switzerland is a notoriously lumpy land, full of mountains and valleys, inclines and declines. Not for the faint of legs!

Rising early, we caught two trains to reach the now-closed Sattel-Aegeri railway station, situated on the outskirts of the town of Sattel, in the Swiss canton of Schwyz (look ma, no vowels!). We had to get up to Mostelberg to begin our hike, and while there was a cable car that would go straight there, we decided to be fit and walk the 3 miles uphill to that town. Bold, and it would certainly come back to haunt us as we got into the main hike.

Once in Mostelberg, we had a coffee and snack before turning our legs back on and getting our hike going. We walked across the Skywalk suspension bridge, and then a few more hours uphill past country houses, cows, and scenic vistas, up to the bench on top of Hochstuckli. It was a lot of walking, and our dogs were certainly barking, but the views were amazing. We spent a lot of time taking pictures up there (do it for the ‘gram, I kept telling my legs).

Lauren posing on the Skywalk suspension bridge. I didn’t like looking down, it was very high.

Sometimes you need to rest your blocks on your way to the summit!

Lauren posing at the top — queen of the mountain! Ready to get our legs amputated.

It’s a lot harder of a hike when your legs are small.

On the way back down, we had lunch at Mostelberg, before opting to take the gondola to the bottom. It was a good choice too, since it began raining. Perfect timing! From there, we hopped on the train and returned to Zurich.

After showering off the dirt and pain, we walked (oof) to dinner at Rheinfelder Bierhalle, which is a classic Swiss beer hall. There, we both had some well-earned beers to cheers to our fitness. For dinner, I had the Jumbo Jumbo Cordon Bleu (because Lauren’s nickname in high school was Jumbo Jumbo). It turns out, a Jumbo Jumbo is a giant flattened cordon bleu, and it is amazing.

After a few steins, the day began catching up to us. We left the beer hall and grabbed a gelato at Dieci Gelateria before turning.

Day 3: Culture Day

In search of a day of culture, we mapped out some museums we wanted to hit, and took a stroll towards the lake before stopping at a small juice cafe for breakfast. The cafe was on an historic street, Augustinergasse, but I don’t remember exactly why it was historic. I don’t think it was for the juice place.

From there, we checked out the Swiss National Museum. Some cool exhibits, though they seemed to go to a lot of lengths to excuse their problematic neutrality during WW2. Overall, pretty cool, and definitely earned some culture points.

With that out of the way, we went to the real museum we wanted to see: the Lindt Home of Chocolate. I had never been a big Lindt person, though Lauren was, so we made it a priority to go for the history and also lots and lots of free samples.

We learned how chocolate is farmed, how the Lindt family got so popular, and all sorts of other fun chocolate facts. Then we had more and more samples of all the different flavors, and I got diabetes, probably. Before heading out, we grabbed another Aperol spritz in the museum bar. I decided I never wanted to eat another Lindt chocolate again.

We decided we enjoyed our Lake Day so much, we had to go back. So we did! And relaxed in the sun, hoping its rays would dissolve the kilos (a European measurement that means “pounds”) of chocolate inside us. And maybe it did, because we were hungry enough to try a new restaurant for dinner.

The restaurant, Raclette-Stube, was a fantastic little place. We had some delicious raclette and fondu, still spiting my lactose intolerance, and it was all amazing. We ended the day with another moonlit stroll along the river, romance in the air and cheese chugging along through our systems.

Day 4: Saying Goodbye

We woke with grief in our hearts: not only were we leaving that day, but we were also splitting up and going our separate ways for the next five days.

We had one more walk along the river early in the morning, when the town is quieter. We stopped for a traditional European breakfast (minus the cigarette) somewhere along the river close to the lake, before making our way to the airport.

One last picture of our favorite river in Zurich!

At the airport, Lauren grabbed a huge bag of chocolates to bring home to her girlies. No matter how many we had eaten the day before, she still didn’t hate them.

And that’s it! Lauren boarded her flight back to the States to go to her bachelorette party in Cape May and I went on to visit my friend Fred in Copenhagen. A very good trip for the time we had, and really great to get to travel together again.

Lindeman Daily Triple-Pack: Italy 2023

On April 4, 2024August 5, 2024 By TommyIn Current Articles, The Lindeman DailyLeave a comment

A special Lindeman Daily triple-pack: three articles for the price of one! (Please remember to pay your Lindeman Daily writers.)

Fighting Fire with Fire: Heat Wave Does Little to Solve GERD

Italy has been unseasonably hot during the second and third weeks of July this year, but it’s not just the temperature that’s causing people to sweat and moan as they make their way through the day.

“Haaaaaaagggghhhttt,” said Lindeman, who has already sweated through two tank-tops and a pair of color-changing swim trunks.

According to Lindeman, things were “heating up”. After a few days on the Amalfi coast, hoofing it up and down a mountain between the beach and his Airbnb, he was hurting. Panting his way through the congested, twisting footpaths that make up the main roads of Positano, Lindeman surmised that he needed to drink at least four Peronis at the beginning and end of each walk to replenish the fluids lost to the sun.

“Si, it’s certainly molto caldo,” said one local Positani resident. “But that [Linde]man perspired more than most!”

Lindeman has attempted to douse the flames on his flesh with swimming. “We’ve gone to the beach, taken a boat out, swam in some caves — underwater caves, overwater caves, lots of different caves. But that’s only solving half the problem.”

The heat wasn’t only coming from the outside, but the inside as well. The Lindeman Daily’s medical correspondent, L. Burton, MD, explained that a rapid influx of acidic foods, such as pastas, tomato-based sauces, and all the other delicious foods Italy is famous for, can exacerbate the symptoms of people suffering from GERD.

GERD is short for gastroesophageal reflux disease, a chronic disease in which stomach acid flows up into the esophagus. It can lead to a burning feeling in the chest and throat, stomach pain, bad breath, and vomiting.

“Not only is the burning vomit really painful,” said Dr. Burton, “but the burps are smelly too, and the groans are generally unpleasant.”

Each day, both Lindeman and Burton enjoyed the culinary delights of coastal Italy, and each night both were filled with the fires of Vesuvius.

“There was no escape,” said Lindeman. “You’d be roasting in the heat all day, going from grape-mode to raisin-mode. Then when you’d finally get home to rest in some air conditioning, the lava would flow from within, scorching you from the inside out.”

When asked why they didn’t simply avoid the sun, they both argued that they couldn’t resist taking in all Italy had to offer. And so, the allure of the pizzas, pastas, and vistas kept their fires burning day and night.

When asked for a final comment, both Lindeman and Burton gasped in unison with the sour breath of burning GERD, “Worth it.”

The Truth Comes Out: Romantic Holiday Just an Excuse to Play on Phone

On July 18, T. Lindeman’s reason for choosing Italy as the destination for his sabbatical from work (despite the country suffering from an unseasonal, climate change-driven heatwave) became crystal clear.

“I can’t believe this is why,” remarked his wife, L. Burton. “Sure, everything we’ve done has been wonderful: the boats, the cooking classes, the beaches, the food, the Tommy [Lindeman] in a bathing suit, everything.

“But to finally know his real reason for picking Italy… just… wow.”

“Wow” indeed. As it turns out, Lindeman’s entire trip, from the first five days in Positano touring Capri and Nerano, to the final two days in Naples, exploring the ruins of Pompeii and the vineyards on the slopes of Mt. Vesuvius, had all been a second fiddle excuse for one 20 minute experience on a hotel balcony in Naples.

“So what?” asked Lindeman. “I don’t see anything wrong with building a vacation out of one keystone moment. Lots of people go to Peru, don’t tell me there’s any other reason besides Machu Picchu that people even begin to consider a trip there. And London, is anyone really traveling there for anything other than the kebabs? Sure, the Eye is a close second, but it’s garnish to the kebab experience. This was a similar thing.”

According to several eyewitness accounts, that Napolitano hotel balcony was the site where Lindeman met up with a fellow Pokémon Go player to trade Pokémon.

“It’s not even like this is a novel experience for him,” said Burton. “He’s traded with several other friends in the past. I mean, even his younger brother [Lindeman] plays!”

“No, it isn’t really any different than that,” admitted Lindeman. “But there was an opportunity, so why not take it?”

The details of the trade itself are scarce, though juicy gossip abounds. Some unsubstantiated rumors say that the other party in the trade was a seven-year-old boy from Minnesota. And that Lindeman traded a “Best Buddy” status Hydreigon for a nothing-to-write-home-about Crabrawler. And that soon after their first and only trade, the parental controls on the boy’s mother’s phone locked him out of playing any more that day. But Lindeman is adamant: that is not what matters here.

“Sometimes it isn’t the details that make something great,” ventured Lindeman, holding up pinched fingers and adopting a far-off look. “It’s about the people and the experience… but yes, that kid made out like a thief.”

At the end of the day, though, Lindeman has no regrets. Even his wife remains cheery after learning the circumstances of their trip.

“If it makes him happy, I’m happy,” smiled Burton. “Happy husband, happy life, right? And I got to roast in the Italian heat, so it was a win for everyone.”

Lindeman Takes in Authentic Real Italian Experiences

Over the course of a week-long stay in Italy, Lindeman was on the hunt.

“We wanted to experience true, authentic Italy,” explained Lindeman. “My wife [The Lindeman Daily’s medical correspondant L. Burton] and I had both individually traveled to other parts of Italy in the past, but never felt like we truly scratched the surface of a Real Italian Experience™.”

The couple planned their trip ahead of time, booking reservations, tours, cooking classes, and boat rentals. But it wasn’t in any of the standard fare where they found what they had been craving all their lives.

“If we hadn’t felt the Real Italian Experience™ later on,“ said Burton, “I think I would have been happy with a simple cooking class and boat day.”

“But then we experienced the Real Italian Experience™, and now we know what we were missing,” added Lindeman. It is no single moment that makes a Real Italian Experience™, Lindeman explained, but an all-encompassing feeling of La Vera Italia that comes from a cumulative lived experience.

When local Italians were asked about this, not a single one knew what Lindeman had been talking about.

First, Lindeman and Burton strolled through cliff sides of Positano, exploring shops, bakeries, and pizzerias, before Lindeman decided to take the plunge.

“I was seeing shirts with lemons on them everywhere,” recounted Lindeman. “It must be an Amalfi Coast thing, but I loved it, and needed one.”

“[Lindeman] is notoriously hard to shop for,” explained Burton. “Not only because of his weird body shape, but he’s pretty picky too.”

But through perseverance, Lindeman succeeded. Unable to try anything on as his body was both soaked and caked in sweat, Lindeman took a gamble and sized up two sizes (“Because the Italians are teensy!”). Paying for two linen shirts, one covered in lemons and one in oranges, it wasn’t until he had returned to his room to shower and change that he noticed something was a little off.

“The shirt sleeves were too tight!” exclaimed Lindeman. “The length and size in the chest were both right but the sleeves were constricting my pythons. And I don’t have big pythons.”

Lindeman was later told by a local friend that this was the real Italian style. And he realized he was experiencing something beyond a typical adventure. Was Lindeman on his way to a Real Italian Experience™?

“Tight shirt sleeves? Real Italian Experience™.”

Lindeman and Burton next traveled to Naples, where they took a day trip out to Pompeii and a series of vineyards on the Vesuvius volcano.

“The sweltering heat was a real Pompeii experience,” remarked Burton, noting that the temperatures reached record highs during their visit. “But a real Pompeii experience is not a Real Italian Experience™.”

Lindeman kept eying the volcano with suspicion, refusing to take his eyes off it to make sure it didn’t blow; if it did, he would be the first to know and could book it out of there.

“The American was completely ignoring us,” recounted Teresa, their tour guide through the volcanic vineyards. “Even when we handed him his wine tastings, he never looked away from the volcano.”

After a few hours of this staring contest, Lindeman had an epiphany. Is this fear of a volcanic eruption at any moment, of being incinerated instantly, the experience he had been searching for?

“The ever-present danger of being cooked alive? Real Italian Experience™.”

Eventually, Lindeman and Burton escaped the slopes of Vesuvius unscathed, and returned to Naples for a birthday party.

“Some friends of ours were attending their father’s birthday at the yacht club in Naples,” explained Burton. “They very very graciously invited us to come along.”

The pair met at the yacht club, just barely arriving on time. They soon learned that this was not required, or even preferred.

“Apparently in Italy,” said Lindeman, “being on time is being early. And arriving hours late is arriving on time.”

Indeed, the birthday boy himself did not even show up until two hours into his own party, and guests continued to trickle in for hours beyond that.

“It was a wild time,” said Burton. “There was a lot of singing, gifts from the Pope, who the man of the hour seemed to know personally, and a seven course meal.”

It was a real Neapolitano experience, but as they knew from Pompeii, that does not mean it was a Real Italian Experience™.

“As authentic as it was, there was something missing,” reminisced Lindeman. But that “something missing” would soon be found.

Hours into the party, Lindeman and Burton were fading fast and sleep couldn’t come soon enough. While they tried to put on a brave face, the week of travel in the sun had drained every last bit of energy from them. A bit bashful, they had to excuse themselves and head home.

“They were only three courses into the seven course meal!” explained one partygoer. “It was only 11:30PM! There were hours and hours left in the night!”

They left before any other attendees, including a group of children all under 10 years old. But they swallowed their pride and missed out on what would be a memorable night for the ages.

“That’s ok by us. But the invitation, followed by the festivities, and then the shame of leaving early, that’s what we had been looking for the whole time,” said Lindeman. “And coupled with the shopping and the threatening volcano, our trip ultimately provided that authentic lived experience we had craved.

We truly had a Real Italian Experience™.”

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Tag: tourist