Today’s guest post is from our friend Steve.  Over the next two weeks, he’ll be visiting Kuala Lumpur and Singapore, and reporting on his adventures.

I arrived at Kuala Lumpur International Airport a few hours before midnight, and had read that the KLIA Ekspres train and the airport taxi would both cost around the same. I opted for the more direct taxi. However, there was a mix-up with the hotel name.

Word to the wise: make sure they (and you) know exactly which hotel you’re going to.

Instead of taking me to the Hotel Equatorial Kuala Lumpur, I got a ticket for the Equatorial Bangi, over 30 km away. It was only then that I learned firsthand that cabbies here are not to be trusted. In addition to the RM 54 (more than $16) I was charged to go to the wrong place, the driver charged me an additional RM 74 ($22!) to head back to Kuala Lumpur, but not before trying to convince me to switch to his “budget” hotel.

After a 90 minute trip, I wanted nothing more to do with him.  Luckily, when I arrived at my actual hotel, the staff couldn’t have been more gracious. They were courteous and good at their jobs, even as I shuffled in looking like a hobo. I packed it in for the night and thought about plans for tomorrow.

* * *

I had my first taste of Malaysia the next morning at breakfast, which came included in my package. While there were standard Western fares like pancakes, omelets, and various bread products, the East was also well-represented with congee, curries, and the like.

There were also a few foods I wasn’t expecting, like corn with capsicum (basically, straight spiciness), green guava juice, and beef bacon and salami. Makes sense, as there’s no pork to be found anywhere.

Sensing I had woken up too late to get Petronas Tower tickets, I went for apparently the next-best thing:  the Kuala Lumpur Tower (Menara Kuala Lumpur) just down the road. Standing at over 420 meters (around 1400 feet,) it is the 5th largest communications tower in the world, and 18th tallest freestanding tower in the world.

Naturally, this should have screamed “tourist trap,” but I took the bait anyway. You get a choice of “Cultural” and “Adventure” experiences.  Adventure involves an F1 simulator and a pony ride, which just seemed really odd to do by myself, so I went with Cultural.

The first stop was the Malaysian Cultural Village exhibit, which was one of the most depressing tourist traps I’ve ever seen. It starts with a beautiful sign and landscape, and then… nothing. You walk a solid 50 feet of blank concrete before getting to the main area. They could have done something, anything with it, but no.

The main area featured houses from each area of Malaysia, which, frankly, looked almost exactly the same. “These houses are on 3-meter stilts, but over here it’s 5!” Yippee.

The one interesting thing going on was a few people in traditional garb teaching people to throw spinning tops. I gave it a go, but after wiping out some pieces of wood 20 feet away, I decided to let the professionals handle it. Incidentally, the top spinners were the only people there not trying to sell me something.

Whether it was batik, tacky jewelry, or pictures of myself, everything had a price, and it was inflated. I figured I’d press on and see more of the Cultural Village, only to find that I had somehow seen it all. I was so flabbergasted, I walked through twice to make sure I had seen everything, and I had.

I was beginning to think the pony ride might have been a good idea.

After the Village, I took the elevator up to the Observation Deck. Since there are apparently no floors between the ground floor and the Deck, the elevator zoomed straight to the top, leaving everyone’s ears popping.

The view was breathtaking! A full 360-degree aerial look at the city showed some surprising truths. One, this may be one of the greenest major cities in the world. Forests and parks are everywhere, which contrasts nicely with my current hometown of Seoul. Also, KL-ers really like their skyscrapers.

The biggest surprise, though, was the rapid development. To compare, I took a picture of the guide that had the major buildings labeled. I then took a real picture, and tried to spot all the new buildings. I counted 4, and I wasn’t even looking that hard.

My final stop on the tour was also part of the “Cultural” package, and was titled “Forest in the City.” Now, THIS was worth it.

A guided trip through lush vegetation so thick, you forget you’re in the middle of the city. Our guide, Zul (no Ghostbuster jokes, please) was funny, patient, and incredibly informative. You could see he cared deeply about preservation of Malaysia’s rainforests.

If you’re only staying a few days and can’t make it out to one of the national parks, this is a great 30-40 minute consolation. The only negative was that I took the tour in the middle of the day, so there were no animals to be seen. If you can make it in the morning, there are apparently a few types of tropical bird and primate that live in the area.

If you have the time, you can also explore the trails by yourself. The tour only covered the smallest trail, and it had steps and rails, but it was still a pretty solid workout. All in all, a pretty satisfying first half of the day. I decided to rest up a little and eat back at the hotel. I had planned on going to the Saturday night market, but I caught a cold that waylaid me for the rest of the night.

The next day, I decided to just walk and see what I’d run into. Turns out, I fell smack-dab into Times Square, one of KL’s numerous shopping malls.

Times Square is notable not only for a dozen floors of clothing and electronics, but also Malaysia’s largest indoor theme park, Cosmo’s World.

The Cosmo mascot is one of those wonderful anthropomorphic things that can only exist in a theme park, but kids love getting their picture with him… her… it?

Anyway, the park is dominated by a huge, looping roller coaster that winds its way through the 5th-8th floors of the mall. It snakes its way so close to various signs and banisters I was convinced it would have plowed through one of them by now.

The starkest picture, however, was of how empty it seemed to be. On a summer Sunday afternoon, a place like this would be packed to the gills in America. Here, they’d start each ride with only 2 or 3 riders, because that’s all there would be.

In the mall, I stopped in to the food court and was amazed at the selection. Every corner of Malaysia was represented, from Malay to Indian to, um, Italian. After some halal lemon chicken at the North Chinese Muslim section, I stopped off at the Internet café to catch up on world events.

I missed Dennis Hopper and Gary Coleman dying, and another perfect game in the MLB. Jeez. After a long day of walking and eating, I headed home to rest my aching feet and plan my next move. Tomorrow: Steve gets arty, and actually buys something.

Today, I learned that the Malaysian reputation for kindness is well-deserved. I had just finished breakfast and walked out of the hotel when a middle-aged woman and her daughter stopped me and welcomed me to Malaysia. Just like that.

It wasn’t a trick to try to get me to buy something, or to steal my wallet, or anything like that. There’s an innate curiosity from the locals about visitors; everyone wants to know where you’re from, and why you’d come to their fair city. Even though it was a brief conversation, it instantly brightened my day.

My first stop of the day was the Kompleks Kraf, the Malaysian Craft Complex. Here, you can learn how to make pottery, take a tour covering Malaysian art, weaving, and music (only RM3 – great way to spend an hour!) and even try your hand at batik, the art of using ink and wax to create stunning designs on fabric.

I first met with John, a batik artist from the Borneo side of the country, who welcomed me into his studio and showed me some of his work, which was incredible. I knew I had a lot to live up to. I went with a lizard design, and the instructor first had me trace the picture onto a piece of fabric. Then, I traced the picture again, but this time in wax. Now, I could start painting with the ink and water.

It was ingenious how the wax stopped all colors from bleeding through it, helping differentiate sections. I was soon joined by two young English women on holiday, Marie and Beth. We chatted and painted, safely away from the passing thunderstorm, until our masterpieces were finished.

Well, Marie and Beth had masterpieces, mine looked like a fifth-grader’s work. After we were done, the instructor dried them and wrapped them up. For only RM20 (about $6 American and change), we had a wonderful memory, spent a few hours having some great fun, avoided a thunderstorm, and made some new friends.

After we left the Craft Complex, we headed to the Pavilion Mall. It was Marie’s birthday, and she wanted some chocolate cake.

The Pavilion is known in KL as the high-end mall, and with good reason. Everywhere you turned there was another designer label with impossibly thin models. We snubbed our noses at the perfect physical specimens looking dead-eyed from the posters and headed towards the Godiva store, where we all surrendered to chocolatey awesomeness. Take that, you skinny jerks!

Afterwards, we made plans to meet up again next week in Singapore, and went our separate ways. I was about to head back to the hotel, when two words caught my eye – Pub. Quiz.

Those who know me know I’m a sucker for any sort of trivia contest (I once appeared on Jeopardy!), especially when the prize is a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. I ordered a burger (quite good – turns out the chef was an award-winner in Ireland) and a Strongbow, and hunkered down at Healy Mac’s Pub.

I started chatting with the gentleman next to me, Liam, who turned out to be the owner. Soon joined by John, a Scotsman, and a couple from Liverpool, we were ready to take on the world. In the end, we fell short of the win, but the lively conversation and laughs more than made up for it.

The overriding theme of the day was kindness. Whether it was John the artist, Liam, Beth and Marie, or the women outside the hotel, everyone was smiling, enjoying themselves and wanted to learn about me as much as I wanted to about them.  I took a taxi home (cabbie tried to charge RM20 for a few blocks – nice try, jerk) and I drifted off to sleep, ready for whatever the next day brought.

Check back later this week for the conclusion of Steve’s time in Kuala Lumpur and his arrival in Singapore.

People driving from LA to Vegas regard the I-15 as a long and boring stretch of highway that stands between them and public intoxication, irresponsible gambling and regrettable sexual encounters.  Movies like “The Hangover” and “Swingers” skip over this part of the road trip with a montage as if there was nothing to see besides cactus and the occasional road kill.

For the most, they’re right.  But sometimes you have to stop.

Sometimes you just need a break from the monotonous and boring hum of the road (or your significant other).  Sometimes you’re craving really unhealthy hood from establishments with questionable health records.  And almost always, you need to drain the 8 cans of Monster Energy Drink that has swelled your kidney to the size of a cantaloupe.  Even if you never drop below 90 mph on the four-hour drive straight to Vegas, you can impress your friends with cool facts about the places you refuse to pull off at.

Ostrich Omelets And Buffalo Burgers

The scariest and most hazardous part of the drive to Vegas is traversing the Cajon Pass, a steep mountain pass known for car accidents, snow storms, wild fires, deadly encounters with NASCAR fans, and earthquakes — the San Andreas Fault runs right through the Cajon Pass.  Once you reach the summit, you can visit one of the few remaining historic U.S. Route 66 roadside diners left in California.  Summit Inn still features many of its original signs, like a Standard Oil sign with Mickey Mouse, but they’re known for having some unusual food like ostrich omelets and buffalo burgers.

The McDonald’s Train Station

The last relatively large town you’ll see before you hit over 200 miles of desert landscape is Barstow.  Right off the freeway there’s a place called Barstow Station.  There you will find a McDonald’s where you can eat your dollar burgers inside one of three side-by-side rail-road cars.  At one point, this was supposedly the largest McDonald’s in the world.  But what I find even more fascinating is that Barstow Station claims to have “the cleanest restrooms in all of Barstow.”

Case Del Desierto

Head down Main Street in Barstow and cross over an old iron bridge that’s set to collapse any day now, and you will find Casa del Desierto.  Today the building is home to the Route 66 Mother Road Museum, the Western America Rail Museum and the Barstow Area Chamber of Commerce.  But it was originally built as a Harvey House back in 1911.  Here’s a little history and fun wrapped in one: Harvey House’s were a chain of eateries located at railroad stations, and they’re considered to be the first restaurant chain ever.

The Oldest Del Taco

If you’re a connoisseur of the 59 cent taco such as myself, you probably love Del Taco, which is far superior in every way to the hideous and overpriced Taco Bell (79 cent tacos!? What a rip!).  I know it’s hard to imagine such deliciousness being even better, but at the oldest Del Taco franchise at 401 N. First Street in Barstow, they make fresh Mexican food that tastes like it came right out of an autentico pueblo.  It’s like being in Mexico without the drug war or kids trying to sell you Chiclets.

The Barstow Murals

You’ve seen the Harvey House, you’ve crossed the rusty bridge, you’ve gorged on McDonald’s and Del Taco, and you’re about to leave Barstow when you notice an interesting mural.  Then you see another one.  And another.  Murals depicting the history of the area in downtown Barstow are popping up all over town, and they’re becoming such a popular attraction that a group is now offering tours.  Let us know if it’s interesting; we’ll wait in an air conditioned car.

The Original Del Taco

While you still have the goodness of Del Taco in your mouth, check out the building where the original Casa del Taco stood in 1964.  Located at 38484 Yermo Rd. in Yermo, this little food shack is now an unreliable-sounding eatery called Tita’s Burger Den (which supposedly serves great shakes).  It still brandishes the original Casa del Taco sign.

Calico Ghost Town

Fans of panning for gold and gunfight stunt shows will probably enjoy a visit to Calico Ghost Town just a few miles off the I-15.  Called “The Official Silver Rush Ghost Town”, it’s a registered California historic monument, but it’ll cost you $10 to visit.  Just remember how far that $10 can go in Vegas: 10 beers; or 3 steak dinners in the middle of the night; or 1 lap dance at a second-tier strip club.

Is That A Waterpark In The Middle Of The Desert?

Smack dab in the middle of no where, you’ll pass the Lake Dolores Waterpark, also called Rock-A-Hoola, but better known as The Oasis That Never Was.  It’s no longer in business for obvious reasons — who would drive two hours into the hot dessert to go down a water slide? — but apparently the park was pretty popular in the 70′s and 80′s back when the more conveniently placed Raging Waters didn’t exist.  Here’s another fun fact for ya: officially the world’s first water park debuted in 1977, but Lake Dolores is unofficially called the first water park because it added water slides in the 1950′s.  That’s officially unofficial.

Zzyzx Isn’t Zazzy

About 8 miles before you hit the town of Baker, you’ll pass a street sign for an off-ramp that you’ll probably never get off at in fear that an encounter with the freaks from “The Hills Have Eyes” will lead to your zoothapsis (though perhaps I’m being zoilistic).  The street is called Zzyzx, and what makes this street so special is that it’s the lexicographically greatest place name.  What that confusing term means is that out of all the street and city names in the English language, Zzyzx is the very last one.  At least it sounds cooler than the nearly unprounable last word in the English dictionary: zyzzyva (a South American weevil).

The World’s Tallest Thermometer

I wouldn’t be surprised if the term “highway robbery” was invented in Baker.  The gas prices are insanely high, but chances are you’ve gotta fill up once on the way to Vegas.  You can get a snack at Alien Fresh Jerky (avoid the anal probe special) or an awesome strawberry shake at The Mad Greek Diner.  If for some ungodly reason you have a desire to sight-see, your one and only option is the World’s Tallest Thermometer.  It’s 134 feet high to commemorate the hottest temperature ever recorded in the U.S.: 134 °F in Death Valley in 1913.

World’s Tallest Roller Coaster… In 1996

The Desperado roller coaster at Buffalo Bill’s in Primm, Nevada was listed as the tallest roller coaster in the world by the Guinness Book of Records in 1996.  The record has been eclipsed since, but with a drop of 225 feet and top speeds around 80 mph, it’s still one of the biggest and badest roller coasters in the world.  The problem is that it’s often closed due to high winds that threaten to blow the coaster car off the track.

See The Car Bonnie & Clyde Were Killed In

Bonnie & Clyde is the stuff legends are made of.  Their incendiary run as outlaws ended violently on May 23rd, 1934 when cops fired 130 rounds at their car, hitting each of them 25 times.  Their bullet-riddled Ford is now on display at Terrible’s Primm Valley Casino Resort.  Nothing says party like a crime scene.

Al Capone’s Armored Car

So many rival gangsters tried to kill the infamous Al Capone in the ‘20’s and ‘30’s that he had his car retrofitted with lead-filled doors and glass one-inch thick.  Adjacent to the Bonnie & Clyde Death Car, you can check out the equally shot-up bullet-proof Dutch Schultz that once saved Capone’s left.  We wonder if Tupac’s car will be the next exhibit.

Whiskey Pete’s

There’s nothing particularly enticing about Whiskey Pete’s Resort & Casino at the Nevada state line in Primm, but I just love the back-story.  The hotel was named after Pete MacIntyre, a guy who illegally made whiskey in the mountain caves nearby.  Legend has it that when Pete died in 1933, he wanted to be buried standing up with a bottle in his hands.  His grave site remained unknown until workers constructing a monorail between the Primm hotels accidentally uncovered his body.  His body was then moved to the cave where he used to make moonshine.  It’s a heartwarming tale you can recount to your children before they go to bed.

The Nevada Landing Sign

32 miles outside of Vegas is a little town called Jean.  It’s not a place you’d want to spend a lot of time in considering that if any criminals escape from the nearby prison, they’ll probably stop into the only casino in town, the Gold Strike.  There used to be two casinos here, but in 2008 they demolished the Nevada Landing… except the sign.

*Possibly not safe for work.

Today a man can easily conjure the image of a naked woman with the click of a button (if his hands are free).  But hundreds of years ago, it wasn’t so simple for our technologically inferior ancestors.  Men had to physically leave their candle-lit man-caves to find images of naked ladies.  They had to travel far and wide to find the ancient version of a pornographic theater: the museum.  It was in the safe confines of a museum that a man could successfully disguise his perverseness.

You see, painting, much like the internet, was only invented to display porn.  Sure, both painting and the internet could have been created for practical purposes, such as immortalizing events, depicting stories, distributing important information, or embedding secret codes that no one can decipher without the assistance of Tom Hanks.  But they knew it was way easier to showcase naked ladies instead.

Similar to today, however, men didn’t think women were beautiful enough.  So artists enhanced, touched up, softened, glorified and air-brushed them to near perfection like an old world Photoshop.  Yes, men were looks-centric, superficial bastards even back then.  But it’s far easier for a man to make a woman look smoother, silkier, and overall faker, today than it was hundreds of years ago.  Back then, it was an arduous, timely and meticulous task to craft beauty.

That’s why some of the women depicted in old paintings look far sexier than the Photoshopped women of the internet age.  Want proof?  Here is a list of the sexiest paintings ever made and where you can find them…

“The Rokeby Venus” by Diego Velázquez (c. 1647–51)

I often wonder if some men became artists just to get women to take their clothes off in the privacy of their study… for free.  It’s like they were the Joe Francis’ of their time, but instead of a video camera and a “Girls Gone Wild” t-shirt, they had a paint brush.  Painting nudes was frowned upon in seventeenth-century Spain when Velázquez was a member of the court of Philip IV, so he high tailed it to Rome to paint this painting, where moral standards were a little looser.  The only surviving female nude by Velázquez can be found at the National Gallery in London.

“The Wave And The Pearl” by Paul Jacques Aimé Baudry (c. 1828 – 1886)

If Playboy existed in nineteenth-century France, this chick would have been a prime candidate for Centerfold of the Year.  I imagine many conversations like this taking place between husbands and wives back then:
Wife: “Honey, we have to go to the market to get –”
Husband: “Let’s go to the museum!”
Wife: “Again?”
One of Baudry’s most famous paintings, you can see it at the Museo del Prado in Madrid.

“Venus of Urbino” by Titian (1538)

I’m not gonna lie, I laughed a little when I saw that this nude was painted by a guy named Titian.  Italian painters such as he were able to get away with painting rich chicks naked as long as they threw the name “Venus” in the title; that’s what distinguished it as art.  Mark Twain called this painting “the foulest, the vilest, the obscenest picture the world possesses,” leading me to question his sexual orientation.  He goes on to say that the painting “is a trifle too strong for any place but a public art gallery,” which is totally proof that museums were the old school version of a peep show and probably explains why so many men collected art.  If you get a chance to see this painting at the Galleria degli Uffizi in Florence, Italy, let me know if the girl in the white dress in the background is vomiting in that chest.

“Mars And Venus” by Sandro Botticelli (c. 1483)

Some have called this painting by Italian Renaissance master Sandro Botticelli one of the sexiest paintings of all time.  I can tell you who doesn’t agree: women.  That statement was obviously made by a man because this painting is totally unflattering.  Clearly this is an honest assessment of the uncomfortable situation following premature ejaculation.  This painting is like a 500-year old version of “American Pie”.  Think about it: the girl never got her clothes off… and he’s already sleeping.  Look at the disappointment on her face.  It’s obvious this dude finished early and now he’s trying to sleep off his embarrassment.  If you visit this painting at the National Gallery in London, look closely: I think she’s subtly giving him the finger.

“Gabrielle D’Estrees and Her Sister, the Duchess of Villars” by Unknown (c. 1594)

Oh, snap!  Old world soft core.  Okay, not really.  Apparently this painting isn’t as dirty as I want to believe.  It’s actually a symbolic announcement that Gabrielle d’Estrées, mistress of King Henry IV of France, is pregnant, and her sister pinches her nipples to show people who may have been unclear where milk comes from.  The woman in the background sewing clothes for a new baby corroborates this, effectively crushing my hopes of calling this the first painting that visualizes every male’s fantasy.  Get up close to the titty twisting sisters at the Louvre in Paris.

“Grande Odalisque” by Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres (1814)

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, this woman has a backside that gives Kim Kardashian a run for her money.  Sure, she’s got a few extra vertebrae, but remember that guys were chubby chasers back in the day.  That’s because women with curves were not only capable of delivering children, they were wealthy enough to eat.  Times have changed.  Now women considered attractive are the skinny ones who are wealthy enough to afford liposuction, personal trainers, and Pinkberry as a diet.  Enjoy looking at this anatomically incorrect woman at the Louvre in Paris.

“Olympia” by Édouard Manet (1863)

I think what makes this painting so hot is the woman’s sheer cockiness.  She may be a little short and stubby, but she totally believes she’s got it going on.  She thinks she’s the hottest chick in France.  Even the servant is like, “Dayum!  ‘Dis bitch look good!”  She doesn’t have a care in the world.  She’s just letting it all hang out, enjoying the high life, letting someone else do all the work, enjoying the comforts of 1,000-thread count sheets and over-sized goose feather pillow, terrifying her black cat.  Clearly the servant is bringing the woman a bouquet of flowers sent by a male suitor.  But does she care?  Nope.  She probably received ten other bouquets earlier in the day.  If a guy wants a shot with her, he needs to be more original than that.  Try your best at the Musée d’Orsay in Paris.

“La Cigale” by Jules Joseph Lefebvre (1872)

Lefebvre wasn’t what you would call “a looker.”  He kinda looked like that strange guy at the end of the bar whose only companion is flies.  But Lefebvre was a smart guy.  He knew the only way to gain the company of women willing to take their clothes off was to become a painter.  That became his niche.  Most of Lefebvre’s paintings depicted beautiful naked women in sexy poses.  And the world is better and safer for his efforts.  Many of his paintings can be considered amongst the sexiest in history, but “La Cigale,” currently housed at the National Gallery of Victoria in Melbourne, Australia, might be the most fulfilling thanks to that girl-next-door-playing-shy look that drives men crazy (though the absence of a vagina is disturbing; she’s like a Barbie doll).

“La Fornarina” by Raphael (1518-1519)

Artists weren’t shy about painting their mistresses back in the day.  In fact, that’s probably how they got away with it.  It was the perfect excuse.  Their wives probably thought they kept the doors to their work room closed because they needed to concentrate on their art, when in reality they wanted privacy with their mistresses.  Raphael’s painting, housed at the Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Antica in Rome, depicts his mistress, Margherita Luti, a bakeress who likely buttered Raphael’s toast while his wife sat in the next room unsuspecting.  Today, celebrities aren’t as good at covering up their affairs.

“La Maja Desnuda” by Francisco Goya (c. 1797 – 1800)

First she’s clothed…

Now she isn’t!

Like sexy magic.  It’s unclear why Goya drew two versions of the same woman in the same pose — or who the woman even was for that matter — but Goya may have been the first guy to create a visual representation of what all guys think to themselves when they see an attractive woman: “I wonder what she looks like naked?”  Scholars say that this was the first time a woman’s pubic hair was clearly displayed in a large Western painting.  As a result of his indecency, Goya was fired as the Spanish court painter by the Inquisition.  Yet somehow his painting survived while others were destroyed, probably because even members of the Inquisition knew the painting was super sexy.  Today you can view it at the Museo del Prado in Madrid, Spain.

What’s the sexiest painting you’ve ever seen and where can we find it?

Twenty other cities have previously hosted the Winter Olympics, but Vancouver is the most unique.  The city is already setting records and breaking new ground, so it comes as no surprise that the medals themselves will follow suit.  A unique city deserves a unique medal… and this year’s Olympic medals are truly something special.

Green Is Golden

Olympic medals this year are made out of junk.  6.8 metric tons of old computer parts, circuit boards and cathode ray tubes were excavated from a landfill, melted down and recycled into this year’s bronze, silver and gold medals.  That makes them the first Olympic medals in history to go green.

Bigger Is Better

That’s not usually the case with athletes who remain svelte by eating celery sticks and doing ab crunches in their sleep.  While the rest of us plump up by eating pizza while we watch the Olympics on TV, these superior physical specimens make us feel like jerks for letting our gym memberships expire.

But in a world where bigger is better, the Olympics have to follow the trend.  The medals this year weigh in at 500 to 576 grams depending on the medal (for us non-metric folk, that’s 17 to 20 ounces — more than A POUND), making them the heaviest medals in Olympic history.  No wonder these athletes work out so much… they have to be strong enough to carry over a pound of precious medal (and trash!) around their neck.  That’s the kind of bling that would even make Flavor Flav jealous.

Catch A Wave

Olympic medals up to now have always been flat.  Not this year.  For the first time in Olympic history, the medals will have a wavy form.  The undulating design is supposed to represent the mountainous terrain and the rolling seas of British Columbia.

One Of A Kind

615 athletes in 15 different sports will win a medal at the Winter Games in Vancouver… but none of the medals will be alike.  Each medal will feature a one-of-a-kind segment lifted from a giant piece of artwork featuring an orca whale.  The medals will be accompanied by a silk scarf showcasing the master artwork so the winning athletes can see where their unique medal fits into the complete design.

Similarly, the Paralympic medals will feature artwork from an aboriginal design of a raven.  The master print was cropped into 399 sections that were then individually laser etched onto the medals, which makes these the first completely singular medals in Olympic and Paralympic history.

How Do The Vancouver Medals Stack Up?

Vancouver isn’t the first city to craft an unusual medal.  Previous Olympics have featured untraditional medals too.  The medals at the 2006 Winter Olympics in Torino looked like a doughnut (despite the fact that doughnuts and athletes really don’t go well together).  And the medals from the 1992 Winter Olympics in Albertville were mostly made of glass (which begs the question: were they being clever, or cheap?).

But do wavy, recycled medals of Vancouver top that?  Are the 2010 Winter Olympic medals the most unusual medals ever?

Berliners have always had an affinity for bears.  The flag of Berlin bears (pun intended) a bear.  A guy named Albert the Bear once controlled the land where Berlin was founded.  The Berlin Zoo’s resident polar bear, Knut, is world famous.  Even the name of the city is pronounced Bear-leen.

And over the last decade, the bear has become the internationally recognized mascot of Berlin… thanks to the Buddy Bear.

A Buddy Bear is a two-meter (6.5 feet) tall fiberglass bear sculpture that first appeared in Berlin in 2001 thanks to German businesspeople Klaus and Eva Herlitz and sculptors Anne and Roman Strobel.

The first exhibit was so successful that companies and artists started purchasing Buddy Bear sculptures to be individually painted and placed around the city.  Today you can’t walk a few blocks in Berlin without being greeted by a cheerful Buddy Bear.

Here are the ones we found…

Two Buddy Bears at Olympiastadion

International Buddy Bear on Niederkirchnestrasse across from Berlin Wall

Buddy Bear near Alexanderplatz

Another Buddy Bear near Alexanderplatz

Buddy Bear inside the lobby of the Berlin Fernsehturm

Buddy Bear in front of HEat restaurant near Berliner Dom

The Buddy Bears evolved into a symbol for world unity at the United Buddy Bears exhibition in 2002.  More than 140 countries were represented by uniquely designed bears holding hands in a circle to promote peace and harmony.

Many of those bears were sold at auctions to raise money for UNICEF and other organizations that assist needy children.  Since then, Buddy Bears have emigrated from Berlin to the far corners of the world to spread the message of unity.  We even saw this guy in Buenos Aires…

A couple of days ago, we were jolted awake by the frightening sounds of explosions.  Turned out it was just fireworks.  We’ve gotten used to the hourly performances of pyromania by this point.

Then this morning I was pulled out of a refreshing sleep by another alarming sound, this time from Jackie…

“OH MY GOD!”

Jackie stared out the window, eyes popping out of her skull like a cartoon, jaw sinking to the floor in shock.

“What!?  What is it!?” I said, fearing the worst.

“IT’S SNOWING!”

Megan Fox offering me a pepperoni pizza couldn’t even get me out of bed that fast.  I sprung off the mattress and hit the window before ever touching the floor, eager to see this foreign substance.

And there it was.  Soft, white flecks tricking down from the sky, blanketing the street like a really cold down comforter.

I sat fascinated at the window for so long that Jackie literally had to pull me away and force me into the morning shower.

You see, being from L.A., we dont get snow… ever.  So while most people probably view the snow as an inconvenience, we took it as an opportunity to unleash our inner children.

After stepping out of the hotel and taking tons of pictures, we headed over to the Pergamon Museum, which already had hefty line out the door.  I know, heading to the warm confines of a museum on a day it’s pouring snow… we couldn’t believe other people had this idea either.

Most times waiting in line is a boring and tedious precursor to the slow museum shuffle.  Not today.

We laughed when the slow tickled our noses.  We formed snow balls so small and pathetic we had to call them snow pellets.  We wrote messages into the snow.  With our fingers, people, let’s be clear about this.

But my long-time romanticized view of snow ended in the same way that my belief in Santa had ended… badly.  Jackie repeatedly warned me not to put the snow in my mouth, but I couldn’t resist.  The world was a snow cone and I wanted a bite.

It looked so delicate and sweet, like powdered sugar.  Living your life by the principle of “explore with your mouth” probably isn’t safe, but it hasn’t gotten me killed (yet).

Eating snow didn’t get me killed, but the taste of acid rain probably permanently singed a few taste buds.

When the flaky snow touched my tongue, it reminded me of the taste of wet soil in my mouth after getting tackled in a middle school game of flag football where the opponents conveniently forgot the object of the game was to grab a flag, not pile drive a frail and uncoordinated chubby kid with little athletic ability into the ground.

After a solid 30-minute wait in the throes of winter, we finally got into the Pergamon Museum.

The museum is located on Museum Island, a UNESCO World Heritage Site featuring five world-famous museums packed on an island in the middle of the Spree River.  The Pergamon Museum is named after the highlight of the museum’s collection, the Pergamon Altar, a monumental gate that existed in the ancient city of Pergamon.

What’s so fascinating about the Pergamon Altar is that it depicts a violent battle between Olympian gods and giant creatures on an absolutely huge scale.

It’s mind-boggling to think that this massive marble structure featuring sculptures of Apollo and Zeus battling giant serpents and lions was whittled into existence with such precision by people using ancient tools.

Sure, the altar that you walk on today is only a reconstruction, but just imagining what the real thing must have looked like over 2,000 years ago can make your head spin.

And to think that this was just the facade; the rest of the altar was over twice as long and just as intricately detailed.

The exhibition hall also features original pieces of the reliefs excavated in Pergamon.  Most of it is incomplete so we had to use our imagination to craft the story of this epic battle. If there’s anything we learned it’s that even gods can get their heads eaten by angry lions.

The Pergamon Museum isn’t a one-hit wonder either.  There are two other awe-inspiring attractions.

The first is the Market Gate of Miletus, a 56-foot high gate that once stood in the ancient Greek city of Miletus.  The gate crumbled after an earthquake 900 years ago, but the pieces remained surprisingly well-preserved by the time they were uncovered in the 19th century.  The pieces were then shipped to Germany and the gate was reassembled inside the museum.

The second major attraction is the Ishtar Gate, a 2,500-year-old blue-tiled gate that once guarded the inner city of Babylon.  This 47-foot high, 100-foot wide reconstruction uses materials discovered during the gate’s excavation.

The Pergamon Museum features so much more, but we spent hours taking in those three attractions.  That led to hunger.  And that led to a quest for a decent restaurant.

A restaurant we found.  Decent it was not.

We should have known immediately that the food was gonna be crappy — from what we could make out, the name of the place was Lunch Bistro.  Never trust eateries without descriptive or creative names.

Every currywurst I had up until that point was delicious.  Lunch Bistro ended that streak.

It took about 40 minutes for our food to arrive after we ordered it despite the restaurant’s small size.  By the time it came out, the food was cold and watery.  And this place wasn’t even that cheap.

Our frustration was compounded when we learned that the day-passes that granted us access to all museums on Museum Island weren’t good at the Neues Museum because it was sold out.

All the museums on the island are undergoing renovation — we read a sign that said the Pergamon Museum was closing for four years — and the collections are being shifted around.

The Egyptian artifacts, like the iconic bust of Nefertiti with the missing eye, were moved to the recently re-opened Neues Museum.  That’s the stuff I really wanted to see, probably because I accept everything that happened in “Stargate” as fact.  I guess everyone else wanted to see it too.

It seemed like everyone, including us, who couldn’t get into the Neues Museum went to the magnificently designed Berlin Cathedral, known for its extravagant organ with 7,000 pipes and stunning views from the Dome Gallery.  That, of course, led to a long wait that we didn’t want to endure in the cold.

So we started on our way to the O2 Arena to see a hockey game.  We followed the people clad in jerseys from the train station to the box office.  Here’s how that worked out:

“You want to buy tickets for tonight’s game?”

“Yeah, we’ve really been looking forward to –”

“There is no chance.  All sold out.  No seat.”

I thought she’d keep going just to rub it in — “Nada, zilch, nothing.”

It was looking like this day was a bust.

But things started to turn around when we visited the surprisingly cool Tacheles, just a few buildings down from our hotel.

This five-story building has an interesting history: first it was a department store, then it became the central office of the SS during WWII, and after it sustained damage in the Allied bombing of Berlin, it was largely forgotten about.

The building was going to be demolished in 1990, but squatters, also known as artists, had taken over the building.  When the city surveyed the decrepit building and found it to be structurally sound, they declared Tacheles a historic monument and let the artists stay.

Walking through the building, especially at night, is slightly uncomfortable.  Our heads were telling us not to ascend the creaky stairs of a dark building covered floor to ceiling in graffiti.  But we did, and it was worth the risk.

A band played what I think was music, but the jumbled sounds made me unsure.  Walls were covered in colorful murals.  Artists crafted jewelry by hand.  Others hawked canvases reeking of fresh paint.

I told Jackie that some of the paintings and drawings were so grotesquely beautiful, they had to have been created when the artist was high.

No less than a minute later, we walked by a room packed with artists sharing a joint.

The building saw a steady flow of curious people that eventually found their way into the packed, smoke-filled bar on the third level.

We walked down the street to an Italian restaurant we had eaten at earlier on this trip only to find every seat taken.  The waiter said it would be five minutes so we decided to wait.  A few minutes later, a couple about our age walked in and joined the wait.

When the first table to open up was a table for four, we agreed to share the table.

We had a great time sharing stories about our experiences in Berlin.  She was a German who moved to Australia for school and he was a native of Australia who was just as fascinated by snow as we were.

The rest of the night was spent comparing cultures, politics and lifestyles over garlic soup and giant thin-crust pizzas.  Yet again, a day that could have been a disaster was saved by a terrific evening.

Have you ever noticed how people feel entitled to receive a gift when you return from your travels?  I mean, you can’t visit another country without bringing back souvenirs for them.  Friends, family, co-workers… they need proof.  Proof that you traveled to where you say you traveled.

They want to taste what you tasted, hear what you heard, and see what you saw.  They don’t want another bedazzled hat that reads “I Heart (Whatever Place You Visited).”  They want something authentic.  And, you know, you might want something to remember your trip by as well.  So here’s a list of souvenirs to bring back from Argentina…

Malbec Wine

Sure, your ostentatious wine-loving friends back home brag about knowing every variety of Merlot made in the last 50 years.  But they might not know much about Malbec.  Malbec is a dark and fruity red wine produced in the Mendoza region of Argentina and it’s widely considered the national wine.  Thanks to a favorable exchange rate, you can add another cork to their collection for relatively little money.  An expensive, world-class bottle of Malbec can be purchased for less than $20.

Leather Goods

Argentina is one of the largest producers of beef in the world, and that means there’s a lot of genuine leather to be had at faux leather prices.  You can purchase a brand new, custom-made leather jacket for around $100 (it’s about $50 more expensive on the over-priced tourist shopping avenues).  And complete the ensemble with a new leather wallet or belt for $15.

Mate

Near every subway station, office building and tourist trap, you’re bound to see tables congested with strangely shaped decorative cups filled with a weird-looking mushy green substance.  It’s called mate and it’s a traditional South American drink that tastes like a fusion of tea and coffee.

A souvenir mate set, which includes a bag of yerba mate leaves, a mate gourd and a metal straw called a bombilla, is an inexpensive way to give your friends back home a taste of Argentina — sets can cost as little as $2.  Mate gourds are usually made from hollowed out calabash gourds, which is a fruit that was originally harvested to be used a container instead of food.  But you can find more elaborate mate cups in the form of concave cow hooves or bull horns as well.

Soccer Paraphernalia

Football is a source of pride for Argentina.  The country has one of the most successful national teams in the world, having won the most international tournament titles of any country (19, tied with Uruguay).  Every souvenir shop will have blue and white striped national team jerseys boasting the names of some of the country’s superstars, such as Lionel Messi.  You’ll also find football paraphernalia for the top two teams that play in Argentina’s national league (called the Primera Division): Boca Juniors and River Plate, both located in Buenos Aires.

Tango Music

The seductive dance of the tango originated in Argentina — danced between men waiting in line in brothels, to be exact.  On virtually every street you will find tango dancers performing for restaurant patrons, classes being taught to tourists, performances held in opulent theaters, and dancers strutting their stuff for change in touristy spots.  But if you don’t feel comfortable showcasing your new moves in front of your co-workers, at least you can bring back the essence of tango with music.  Tango music is the most abundant form of music available in Argentina, and CDs can be purchased for as little as $2.

Handmade Crafts

One of the best ways to introduce your friends and family to the culture of a foreign land is to bring back crafts created by its people.  Locals set up shop on major thoroughfares and popular squares to sell handmade crafts such as clothing, jewelry, pottery and housewares.  It’s a win-win situation: authentic keepsakes can be had for dirt cheap prices, and the locals are genuinely appreciative of your business.

Artwork

Postcards and t-shirts are always a popular souvenir, but they don’t really capture the spirit of a foreign land the way artwork does.  Most touristy areas are bound to have stalls featuring one-of-a-kind paintings and sculptures from local artists.

Yeah, it’s more expensive than a tacky postcard you can get at the airport, but the artistic depictions created by the locals are far more colorful, insightful and unique.  The two pieces of artwork we brought back from Argentina were our favorite souvenirs — a painting of Caminito Street in Buenos Aires, and a beautiful box for knick-knacks painted by an artist in San Telmo – and they cost less than $15.

Dulce de leche

Dulce de leche is a chewy candy similar to caramel, but more flavorful and more exotic.  Candy stores sell boxes of individually wrapped dulce de leche pieces, or you can buy alfajores, a dulce de leche-filled sandwich cookie.  Dulce de leche is also popular as a syrup that can be purchased by the jar at most markets.

Central Prague is divided into five smaller towns with New Town being the largest and most spread out, but that shouldn’t be a deterrent.  There are some great sights in New Town, including a bullet-riddled church, the oldest microbrewery in Prague, and an unusual building that looks like it’s dancing.

Wenceslas Square is the dominant tourist spot in New Town.  Wenceslas Square is actually an avenue almost half a mile long, so the term square is misleading — it really should be called Wenceslas Rectangle.

The elegance of the square is somewhat diminished by the adult shops and shady characters that patrol the street at night, but the major attractions make up for it.

There’s the Hotel Europa, with a fantastically preserved Art Nouveau exterior, the Koruna Palace shopping center, the Lucerna Grand Hall shopping arcade and world famous Lucerna Cinema, a plaque dedicated to the victims of Communism, the St. Wenceslas Monument, and the most dominant feature, the National Museum (you can read about our visit here).  Just off the square is the opulent State Opera house.

The other major square in New Town is Charles Square.  It isn’t nearly as grand as Wenceslas, but it doesn’t have the same seediness either.  In the 14th century, Charles Square was a cattle market, and really it could function as the same thing today — the square is mainly home to grass perfect for grazing.  There are a few monuments scattered along the tree-lined paths and some benches for resting.  But it’s the sights around Charles Square that draw attention.

Most of the eastern end of Charles Square is monopolized by a former Jesuit College, now a teaching hospital.  This area is all about Baroque architecture.  Popular places include the Faust House, the Church of St. Ignatius, and the Church of St. John On The Rock.  If you haven’t realized yet, Prague loves its fantastically designed churches.  It’s kind of ironic, considering that these days more than half the country is atheist or agnostic.

A block outside of Charles Square is another popular attraction.  And guess what it is!  The Church of St. Cyril and St. Methodius is where members of the Czech Resistance hid during a Nazi siege in 1942.  German troops mounted an assault on the church to flush out the Resistance, and you can still see bullet holes in the walls.  The church now houses a small museum dedicated to skirmish between the Czech Resistance and the Nazis.

On the north end of Charles Square is New Town Hall, which hasn’t been a town hall for centuries (it’s a venue for social events and weddings).  New Town Hall has existed since the 14th century, but so many additions were made in the following centuries that the building is now an incongruent mixture of contradictory architectural styles.  That’s a nice way of saying it’s a mess.

A few blocks down from New Town Hall is U Fleků, an awesome microbrewery that only serves its own sweet dark beer (read about our intoxicating visit here).

A few blocks from that is the impressive National Theater, with its elaborate auditorium containing a massive chandelier and a red and gold curtain that depicts the origin of the theater.  The attached buildings that look like a glass Rubik’s Cube belong to the New Stage Auditorium and the avant-garde Laterna Magicka (read about our visit here).

In the hallway a few yards from the Laterna Magicka is a small plaque memorializing the student-led demonstration that ignited the Velvet Revolution and led to the overthrow of Communism in 1989.

We saved our favorite sight for last.  It goes by many names — The Rasin Embankment Building, the “Ginger And Fred” Building, the Drunk House — but its most commonly referred to as The Dancing Building.  The unorthodox modern design makes it seem like it was created by someone who has spent way too much time looking at Salvador Dali paintings while drinking, but there’s actually a romantic method to the madness.

The building is supposed to artistically portray a dance between Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.  You’ve gotta use your imagination to picture this one:  the glass structure is Fred in a suit, leading the dance, and the white structure is Ginger, wearing a crown and a long, flowing dress.  On the top floor of this office building is an upscale French restaurant called Celeste.

Modern art is, for lack of a better phrase, “really freakin’ weird.”  So it makes sense that Paris’ modern art museum, Centre Pompidou, would be just as strange on the outside as it is on the inside.

The building looks like it was flipped inside out, with a maze of pipes from the plumbing and ventilation systems twisting and winding on the exterior (let’s hope a pipe doesn’t burst).  Scaffolding hides the windows and stairs run down the corners as if the building was still under construction.  It’s a stark contrast to the elegance of Paris.

The wait to get in was about an hour, but the street performers in the square kept us entertained.  I’m not sure what was more entertaining: their performances or people’s reactions once they step inside Centre Pompidou.

Here’s the thing about modern art:  some of it is really cool for no good reason, and some of it is really stupid for a lot of good reasons.  There were a few people that seemed genuinely ticked off that some of this “art” even made it into a museum.  There were things like a random smudge on a blank canvas.  A piece of rope hanging from the ceiling.  A sliced piece of fabric hanging from the wall.  A sound-proof room with a piano.

“What the heck is this!?” is a phrase that’s easily understood in any language.  But I still think “I could do better than that” was probably the most common phrase we heard.

That’s the fun part of modern art:  you get to debate about whether it really is art.  Some of the works I “got.”  They made sense to me.  Other times I didn’t get it.  Hence, I was annoyed.

But for every confusing and frustrating piece of work, there was an awesome piece of eye candy, including some artwork that we actually walked into.  Our favorite was a room that looked like it came out of an episode of The Flinstones; it was like a cave made of cartoonish white stones with black outlines that were fitted together like Tetris pieces.

Once we got tired of arguing about the validity of some of the artwork, we went to the sixth floor for a panoramic view of Paris.  On a clear night, the view is probably fantastic.  On a misty night… not so much.

Learn more about Centre Pompidou here.

Imagine if the White House was lined with boutiques and restaurants.  If you can’t imagine that, then check out Paris’ Palais-Royal.

The Palais-Royal, located a stone’s skip from the Louvre, is home to the Constitutional Council, the Ministry of Council, and the Council of State.

That all sounds pretty boring, which is why it isn’t open to the public.  However, the courtyard, gardens, stores and cafes are open.

The courtyard is known for the Buren sculpture.  I don’t know why it’s called the Buren “sculpture” when it’s really 280 sculptures.  It basically looks like a guy took a pillar colored with black and white stripes like an old prison uniform, cut it up, and spread the pieces around the courtyard.

The gardens are impressive even during winter.  Somehow the French can make even dead trees look good.  I can’t even get my room organized, and they manage to organize a huge garden.

Is it just me, or does this fountain remind you of Titanic?

The fountain is the center piece of the Jardin du Palais Royal and it features various statues of people taking extended cold baths.