Collectible Beer Steins

The Question: My best friend and I – both busy moms – want to take a trip to celebrate our 40th birthdays. We want hiking, sightseeing and relaxation, too.

If you’re looking for an urban escape, consider places like Vancouver, New York or Paris. You can walk your feet off, take in the cultural sights, admire the scenery and then linger over locavore meals, interruption-free. (Imagine that!) But for the Big 40, you might long for something more distinct. Jessica Ainlay, who explores the world as one half of GlobetrotterGirls (globetrottergirls.com), has these suggestions:

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Costa Rica

Manuel Antonio National Park on the Pacific Coast meets your criteria if wildlife and natural beauty is on your sightseeing agenda. You’ll find cliffside rooms with a sweeping view of the beach, jungles filled with black iguanas, three-toed sloths and purple-crowned fairy hummingbirds.

“The national park would be the main place to hike,” says Ainlay, who visited 11 countries last year, including Costa Rica. “It’s easy and is filled with animals: Sightings of monkeys and sloth, coatis, exotic birds and many other animals are practically guaranteed. … The hiking paths are all very scenic, leading through the lush jungle or following the coast line, including some remote beaches.”

After all that, relax at your ocean-view swimming pool or spa. There’s a range of accommodation, but Parador Resort and Spa (hotelparador.com), Gaia Hotel and Reserve (gaiahr.com) and Issimo Suites (issimosuites.com) have all garnered notice for those looking to splurge, Ainlay says.

Southern Germany

If you favour beer steins over beaches, consider southern Bavaria in the foothills of the Alps. This is a land of fairy-tale castles, traditional spa towns and air so fresh “you try to gulp it in by the bucketful,” Ainlay says.

She suggests basing yourself in the small and historic town of Fuessen (fuessen.de), a two-hour train ride from Munich.

“There are a number of different paths – from easy strolls through the river valley to serious hikes through the mountains. You can actually walk from Fuessen to Neuschwanstein Castle alongside the Alps. No matter how strenuous the hikes, a stay at a spa hotel like Wellnesshotel Sommer (hotel-sommer.de) will relax the muscles and the mind.”

Or capture your birthday moment atop Germany’s highest mountain, Zugspitze. Located about an hour from Fuessen, you can hike up (and ski down in the winter) or take a heart-pumping ride in a cable car that literally zips to the top.

Send your travel questions to concierge@globeandmail.com.

Follow Karan Smith on Twitter: @karan_smith. Special to The Globe and Mail

on the cover / By Jada Calypso Brotman

Now it’s bustin’ out all over

(Jan. 26, 2012)  Holding what appears to be spider web over her green-streaked bouffant, Jackie Silva gazes around the room of women in various states of undress. “These belong to anyone?” she says loudly. “Mine!” calls Afa Hintermyer, stepping daintily in her 4-inch heels over piles of photographic cables and sequined brassieres. Right now, the small photo studio feels more like the backstage of a nightclub. Silva waves her mystery garment over towering hairdos, rhinestoned hair clips and the somewhat frantic lone male photographer who is do-si-do-ing round the varnished redwood floor. Sequins and satin glisten in the foggy afternoon light drifting in through the window; seagulls chatter outside, echoing the giggles and hoots of the women inside. Hintermyer, a blonde who dances under the name Nina Bettina and looks like she’d be right at home in a dirndl selling beer steins, meets Silva half-way. Apparently, the material in question is a pair of tights. It’s hard to tell what’s what in the midst of a burlesque troupe dressing for a photo shoot in the Jacoby Storehouse.

Women with stage names like Nina Bettina and Jamie Bondage are tossing corsets and comparing fishnets. They are primarily youngish, in their 20s and 30s, and although no one’s model-thin, everyone has a conventionally shaped figure, aided by mechanics and material. Even the women who have had children look cinched and trim once they’ve strapped on their corsets and tied on their heels. Sophie Salizzoni, better known as “Props McGee,” runs around adjusting zippers and crackin’ wise with one dancer’s 9-year-old daughter. The girl seems unawed by the bevies of breasts and mascara being wielded like magic wands. Breaths are sharply withdrawn as corset strings are tightened to seemingly unbearable points.

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Burlesque is such an evocative term. Tassels, rouged cheeks, rhinestones; pin curls, black eyeliner, winking and high-heels. Breasts and thighs. Thick, seductive, drum-heavy tunes with barely double-entendre names: “Honey Dripper,” “Big Ten-Inch Record,” “I Want My Fanny Brown” (excuse me?). Mainstream classics like “Suzy Q” and “Fever.”  Men in fedoras, cheap whiskey, an era when a good show could be found for 15 cents.

Beyond this threadbare and romantic image from the distant past, burlesque means, to a lot of people, a sort of confusedly classy stripping. For some, it evokes a sticky glass booth overlooking a stage with completely nude women. Most recently though, a sort of Burlesque/Burning Man/bellydancing/fire-twirling craze seems to have spread across the nation, in a surprising amalgam of freak shows, third-wave-feminism and slightly dubious eroticism. This craze from the first decade of the century took a bit longer to spread behind the Redwood Curtain. Now, though, “Burlesque!!!” is appearing magically where before there was naught. It’s on flyers at places as diverse as Nocturnum, the Arcata Playhouse and the casinos.

Three active burlesque troupes bump and grind upon Humboldt stages. The Blue Angels sprang up first, in March of 2009, with a traditional pin-up-style gang. Founded in fall of 2009 by Jessa Lee, who formed a troupe out of the Humboldt State Circus, the Angels laid the groundwork for the Beat Vixens, founded by Susie Kidd at the end of 2009. The Vixens, about half the size of the other two troupes with just four dancers, evolved out of a hip-hop group. Va Va Voom, the latest and biggest addition to the scene, formed in the beginning of 2011. The troupes perform around once a month, and their shows are usually packed with rowdy, cocktail-wielding fans. Along with these specialists, other dancers, including Megz Madrone, incorporate burlesque into their acts.

Watching burlesque performances is kind of a tongue-in-cheek experience. Are we, as politically correct people, mildly offended? Are we titillated? Are we annoyed at watching a bunch of show-offs? No matter. The dancers universally love it. It’s a party onstage that the audience is free to join via catcalls and whoops. The dancers find it empowering, liberating and — most of all — fun. The key observable difference between stripping and burlesque is theater. The dancers shimmy on stage not just in costume, but in character, complete with different names, different hair and different attitudes. They are showing off, just as any actor onstage gets to show off, and the fact that nudity is involved makes it all the more engaging, if they’re confident, or awkward, if they’re not. The dancers, just like a lot of artists, must be either brave or stupid.  Err on the side of brave.

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by Terry Engel, contributing writer

This time, let’s look at my favorite restaurant in Epcot, the Biergarten restaurant in Epcot’s Germany Pavilion.

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“Biergarten” is a German word for “beer garden,” which in Germany is usually an outdoor venue where they serve beer and food, usually as part of a pub or beer hall. Although Epcot’s version is not outdoors, the Biergarten restaurant is designed to look as if it is—themed as being in the heart of a Bavarian village, this sprawling festival haus uses long communal table seating, on several tiers so that everyone can enjoy a great view of the stage. Here Oktoberfest is celebrated every day of the year!

Biergarten is open daily from 11:00 a.m. to 9:00 p.m. for lunch and dinner, and serves an unlimited buffet of classic German and Bavarian food. This is a restaurant where you can often walk up without an Advance Dining Reservation (ADR) and still be seated. Keep in mind that the long communal tables seat eight people, so servers seat smaller groups with others.

Inside Biergarten, you can take in the festive evening atmosphere even if it’s high noon outside. The large indoor spaces give a true sense of being in an outdoor garden just after twilight while nestled among the buildings of a quaint German village. There is even a moon rising over one end of the great space.

A traditional German band performs throughout the day. The multi-talented musicians play various different instruments such as the glockenspiel, bells, and even alphorns during each set (an “alp horn” is what you see in the old Ricola cough drop commercials). There is even a dance floor in front of the stage where your whole family can take part in a polka or the “Chicken Dance.” As is the Epcot World Showcase tradition of pavilions hiring people from their home countries, the servers are, of course, all from Germany. And let’s not forget the beer. You order these in large one-liter steins, and you can choose from a light pilsner or a weizen (wheat) beer to a dark bock beer. Germany is also home to many different wine regions, and those are also featured here. Schnapps and shots are also available.

The buffet spread is quite extensive and features a wide variety of German meats and sausages such as bratwurst, schnitzel, chicken, and salmon, as well as sides like spaetzel, sauerkraut, red cabbage, and potato dumplings. Beef rouladen, sauerbraten, and potato dumplings are usually available only as dinner items

Here you can get traditional warm German potato salad as well as many other cold salad items. The bread selection consists of dinner rolls, a rich pumpernickel, and pretzel bread. The daily soup is usually a cream soup of potato or cauliflower, and a carving station in the center of the buffet area features roast pork and German meatloaf, along with various mustards, sauces, and chutneys.

Be sure and save room for dessert. My personal favorites are the light and fluffy Bavarian cheesecake and the traditional apple strudel with vanilla sauce. An added treat is to spoon a little of the vanilla sauce over the mixed berry compote.

As of early 2012, lunch runs $24.99 for adults and $13.99 for children, while dinner is $35.99 for adults and $18.99 for children. All non-alcoholic beverages are included with the meal. All the usual credit cards are accepted along with the Disney Dining Plan and Tables in Wonderland.

[Lowball Diary]

A liter of brew at the Bavarian beer house will set you back $14.95-$15.95.

An old Scottish prayer begs for deliverance from “long-leggedy beasties and things that go bump in the night.” At Hofbräuhaus Las Vegas, modeled after a 423-year-old Bavarian institution, the beasties are corseted barmaids slinging shots, the bumps are spankings, and nobody wants to be delivered. If you buy a T-shirt the spankers will sign it, though I know a guy who convinced one to jot “Olga was here” above his crack instead.

But Hofbräu’s promise of “Oktoberfest every day” goes way beyond Olga. She’s there primarily to serve beer in steins so enormous that hoisting one qualifies as a workout. There is a half-liter option, but tourists love tackling the two-liter boot—the equivalent of nearly six American beers.

On a recent Saturday I split the difference with a liter of seasonal brew ($15.95). It was dark without being thick and strong without being bitter, and my comrades attested to the tastiness of Hofbräu original lager, dunkel and hefeweizen ($14.95). All are imported from Munich, where beer is crafted with the same finesse as a BMW. Hoping to avoid utter drunkenness before it was fully dark outside, we ordered a Jumbo Complete soft pretzel. It’s meal-priced at $13.50, but one hot, fluffy, salty knot feeds a foursome and comes with two mustard dips and a spread of brie, butter and spices devilish enough to deserve its own love tap from Olga’s paddle.

Photo: Beverly Poppe

Trio Musischwung entertains at the Bavarian beer house.

The featured band, Trio Musischwung, whipped the main hall into a frenzy of singing and swinging steins. They played “Sweet Caroline” and oompah classics, the U.S. national anthem and the Ricola commercial’s three-note ditty. Hearing the Star Wars theme on the alpenhorn was almost as surprising as the trumpet solo played between the legs of the accordionist, who didn’t even flinch. But the biggest shock of the night was the Canadian grandma who almost pulled an upset in the stein-holding contest. A full liter weighs 3 pounds, and she held it at arm’s length longer than most of the men, ultimately losing to a hipster in a plunging V-neck (if the Vancouver Olympics taught us anything, it’s that Canada can’t quite get there in the clutch).

My arm, admittedly about as buff as a Q-tip, ached just holding the empty glass, so I decided to change it up at Pete’s Dueling Piano Bar. A Texas brand, Pete’s calls for a gunslinger-friendly drink that makes up in potency what it lacks in girth. In short, whiskey. I favor a little smoke on the finish, but the vinegar aftertaste of Hofbräu cabbage called for something sweeter. Crown on the rocks melts just right (way to redeem yourself, Canada!), and Pete’s didn’t add any unnecessary water.

Neither did it water down the entertainment for faint-of-hearts in the audience. Three musicians played the hell out of two pianos, mixing in some raunchy sit-down, stand-up comedy. We’re talking LMFAO, Kenny Rogers and a very dirty version of the Hokey Pokey. Their “Sweet Caroline” got a better response from the crowd than Musischwung got at Hofbräu, but to be fair, there were more Texans in the house.

Photo: Beverly Poppe

The Town Square bar offers dueling piano action—and some raunchy comedy.

They dominated the classic country tearjerker “Lucille” and the supplemental chorus of “you bitch, you slut, you whore,” directed at one lucky spectator (in this case, a bald guy who was not amused). But the musicians flipped the mood completely by spotlighting a young man on his last night out before deploying to Afghanistan. Other men and women in the service joined him onstage for “God Bless the U.S.A.,” and for a moment, a bunch of hammered strangers were part of something bigger, something powerful.

The bachelorette sucking booze out of a fishbowl brought me back to Earth, to the cigarette smoke and the Texans exuberantly spanking each other (at least they weren’t charging). My group waited and waited for the pianist who looks like Meat Loaf to play some Meat Loaf, but apparently, a $5 tip is low priority—even more disappointing when we realized we could have gotten a third of a Hofbräu pretzel instead. Sometimes, punishment is just punishment.

[Lowball Diary]

A liter of brew at the Bavarian beer house will set you back $14.95-$15.95.

An old Scottish prayer begs for deliverance from “long-leggedy beasties and things that go bump in the night.” At Hofbräuhaus Las Vegas, modeled after a 423-year-old Bavarian institution, the beasties are corseted barmaids slinging shots, the bumps are spankings, and nobody wants to be delivered. If you buy a T-shirt the spankers will sign it, though I know a guy who convinced one to jot “Olga was here” above his crack instead.

But Hofbräu’s promise of “Oktoberfest every day” goes way beyond Olga. She’s there primarily to serve beer in steins so enormous that hoisting one qualifies as a workout. There is a half-liter option, but tourists love tackling the two-liter boot—the equivalent of nearly six American beers.

On a recent Saturday I split the difference with a liter of seasonal brew ($15.95). It was dark without being thick and strong without being bitter, and my comrades attested to the tastiness of Hofbräu original lager, dunkel and hefeweizen ($14.95). All are imported from Munich, where beer is crafted with the same finesse as a BMW. Hoping to avoid utter drunkenness before it was fully dark outside, we ordered a Jumbo Complete soft pretzel. It’s meal-priced at $13.50, but one hot, fluffy, salty knot feeds a foursome and comes with two mustard dips and a spread of brie, butter and spices devilish enough to deserve its own love tap from Olga’s paddle.

Photo: Beverly Poppe

Trio Musischwung entertains at the Bavarian beer house.

The featured band, Trio Musischwung, whipped the main hall into a frenzy of singing and swinging steins. They played “Sweet Caroline” and oompah classics, the U.S. national anthem and the Ricola commercial’s three-note ditty. Hearing the Star Wars theme on the alpenhorn was almost as surprising as the trumpet solo played between the legs of the accordionist, who didn’t even flinch. But the biggest shock of the night was the Canadian grandma who almost pulled an upset in the stein-holding contest. A full liter weighs 3 pounds, and she held it at arm’s length longer than most of the men, ultimately losing to a hipster in a plunging V-neck (if the Vancouver Olympics taught us anything, it’s that Canada can’t quite get there in the clutch).

My arm, admittedly about as buff as a Q-tip, ached just holding the empty glass, so I decided to change it up at Pete’s Dueling Piano Bar. A Texas brand, Pete’s calls for a gunslinger-friendly drink that makes up in potency what it lacks in girth. In short, whiskey. I favor a little smoke on the finish, but the vinegar aftertaste of Hofbräu cabbage called for something sweeter. Crown on the rocks melts just right (way to redeem yourself, Canada!), and Pete’s didn’t add any unnecessary water.

Neither did it water down the entertainment for faint-of-hearts in the audience. Three musicians played the hell out of two pianos, mixing in some raunchy sit-down, stand-up comedy. We’re talking LMFAO, Kenny Rogers and a very dirty version of the Hokey Pokey. Their “Sweet Caroline” got a better response from the crowd than Musischwung got at Hofbräu, but to be fair, there were more Texans in the house.

Photo: Beverly Poppe

The Town Square bar offers dueling piano action—and some raunchy comedy.

They dominated the classic country tearjerker “Lucille” and the supplemental chorus of “you bitch, you slut, you whore,” directed at one lucky spectator (in this case, a bald guy who was not amused). But the musicians flipped the mood completely by spotlighting a young man on his last night out before deploying to Afghanistan. Other men and women in the service joined him onstage for “God Bless the U.S.A.,” and for a moment, a bunch of hammered strangers were part of something bigger, something powerful.

The bachelorette sucking booze out of a fishbowl brought me back to Earth, to the cigarette smoke and the Texans exuberantly spanking each other (at least they weren’t charging). My group waited and waited for the pianist who looks like Meat Loaf to play some Meat Loaf, but apparently, a $5 tip is low priority—even more disappointing when we realized we could have gotten a third of a Hofbräu pretzel instead. Sometimes, punishment is just punishment.

© 2005 – 2012 Swift Communications, Inc.

© 2005 – 2012 Swift Communications, Inc.

© 2005 – 2012 Swift Communications, Inc.

© 2005 – 2012 Swift Communications, Inc.