Things Hungarian People Like

Poppy Seeds and Paprika. Remember these two, they will be a trend. In Hungary, my favorite bagel topping found its way into most desserts and a few savory dishes. You could buy 'mákos' loose or as a paste. Hungarians' affinity for paprika was more expected, but was still surprising. I mean, two paprika museums in one small town is pretty impressive - being as there's only so much one can say about these two seasonings, let's move on.
Setting Up Shop in Unlikely Places. There was a go kart raceway set up in a supermarket parking lot, more melon and fruit stands than you can count on the roadsides and this pop-up bakery on a corner in Baja. She sold strudel, savory scones, small pizzas and tarts. The fold up table out front gave customers a place to enjoy their purchase and a very official receipt of purchase dispelled any question that she wasn't fully licensed.
Of course, our rétes was filled with poppy seed. A few black cherries were added in for variation, but mostly it was just a billion mákos stuck together with honey. Neither one of us would have passed a drug test after sharing just one.
Bogrács, Traditional Goulash Cauldrons. We saw these first in Slovakia, nearing the Hungarian border. Once over, into Magyarország, lawns were filled with shiny, new ones for sale. Silver and black, they stood next to garden gnomes and other figurines. In Eger, the public parks had fire pits with cauldrons hanging above them. Benches were pulled into a semi-circle around them. At a campsite in Csongrád, we were awoken by the smell of a morning goulash stirring. This picture was taken in Baja. We camped next to a large group of kids on a kayak trip. They were all lined up with bowls and pots in hand, clanging their spoons against the bottoms in excitement like a scene out of a revisionist Oliver Twist. The ladling chaperone seemed nervous that he may run out and was horrified that we may want a taste. "No, no, just a picture," we assured. We wondered if the bogrács were available for rent from reception. What makes the gulyás so red? Paprika.
Bibs. Poppy seeds may get stuck in your teeth, but paprika stains. There's really no getting around baby-ate-spaghettios mouth when slurping bright red halászlé and gulyás, however it's pretty easy not spill spoonfuls on yourself. This was not the opinion of at least two restaurants, where Merlin and I were handed bibs. It made me crave lobster. I guess a slightly embarrassed diner is better than an angry, stained one.
Hamburgers. Just one week before Hungary, in Slovakia, Merlin couldn't find ground beef to barbecue hamburgers. Ground pork, yes, but cow, no. Then, we entered a country that loved beef patties. That's not to say that it wasn't still behind goose, duck, chicken and pork in abundance on menus, but beef in hamburger form was incredibly popular. In fact, we saw the word 'hamburger' in every town and city, at every snack stand or roadstop. They were always microwaved, thin patties with varying multitudes of condiments, but hamburgers all the same. We've seen a lot of hot dogs in Europe, but this was our first hamburger-crazy country and we were happy to be here for the fourth of July.
'Live Gypsy Music.' These three words were scrawled on chalkboards and printed on posters just about everywhere we went. If a restaurant declared anything in English, it would be this and you could hear some four or fivesome's tunes travel through the air from somewhere on a still weekend evening. The use of the word 'gypsy ' was off-putting to us, so we never actively sought the entertainment out. However, we found ourselves serenaded over dinner more than once by a string instrumented band playing lively folk music. This young band had a particular pep and drew an adoring, mostly female, crowd of listeners on a street in Eger.
Wearing Overalls. This was a strictly male thing and extended beyond the neon variety worn by construction, maintenance and sanitation workers. Denim and khaki sets were popular all around the country. Shirt underneath, optional.
Seltzer Bottles. Between the fiddles, overalls and seltzer bottles, sometimes scenes felt downright vaudevillian. Seriously, though, seltzer bottles caught my attention early on. They were in every refrigerator and on ever bar or cafe counter. Okay, I thought, people like to make their own seltzer here. Then, I began to notice them outside antique shops and in pieces of art. It turns out, consumable soda water was actually invented by a Hungarian scientist named Ányos Jedlik and the Hungarian invention of wine spritzers quickly followed. So, you can say that seltzer bottles have a good deal of cultural iconography.

Honorable Mentions

Saying "Hello" as Goodbye. This is popular slang and was confusing at first, but we got used to waving farewell while smiling and saying 'hello!'

Lemonade. At first, I thought they must be spiked. Bars and restaurants had entire menus made up of lemonade. We were often surrounded by people sipping pale, yellow liquid through colorful straws. Most people seemed to opt for traditional lemonade, as opposed to the kiwi, mint, cherry or other variations.

Things Czech People Like

City strolls on waterways. There seemed to be a river running through every town or city on which people in rented kayaks, rowboats and paddleboats milled around. It was something I always enjoyed seeing and which felt so unique and quaint after the more commercially used Danube of Austria and more literally inhabited Amstel of the Netherlands.
It was like the liquid equivalent of bikers and Frisbee golfers in Central Park. Urban blue space. Utterly charming. The men most often coupled this activity with another thing (male) Czech people like: going shirtless
Guided tours in vintage cars. This was Prague-specific, but still worth mentioning. At first, we thought some sort of automobile convention was going on, but then we noticed all were packed like clown cars. When we saw a sign advertising this sort of experience, it made sense. Sort of. I guess it's a two-in-one experience, but in such a walkable city it felt like just another contrivance for tourist dough. Still, it was fun seeing them put around.
Business names with unfortunate English translations. It happens all the time, but in the Czech Republic, signs just kept popping up that made us go, "Oh... that's unfortunate." Aside from Eurotramp, the chain minimarket Flop was a personal favorite. There was also a clothing store with a terrible slur (or British word for "cigarette") as its name. Very unfortunate indeed.
Rollerblades. It was like I was back in in 1994, wishing I could roll around on those sleek, futuristic things everyone else had strapped to their feet, but all I could do was shuffle my outdated (but stylin') red suede roller skates. People here rollerbladed like the whole world was a Floridian boardwalk. Most nature trails had more bladers than bikers or walkers. At the Štramberk fair, it was nice to see shoed friends pitch in to help when the cobblestone going got tough.
Hyperbolic Advertisements. Yes, it's true, folks. At Portefena Husa you can have the "best beer selection and cuisine you have ever tasted." Especially in Prague, businesses really brought out the linguistic big guns in praise of what they had to offer. I can't know for sure if this was false advertising or not. I never actually dined or drank at Portefena Husa, but I think it's safe to say that there may have been a little bit of exaggeration involved.
Maybe this one was actually true, but I tend to doubt it. The small print reads "5 Clubs for price of the 1," which further confuses things. Can you really be up for the title of "Biggest Music Club in Central Europe" if you are, in fact, 5 clubs? Jury's still out.
Microbreweries. There seemed to be one in every sizable town, bustling with locals and serving beer that far outshone any bottled or canned Czech variety. Most microbreweries were proudly outfitted with glassware and coasters touting their pivo. For some reason, I enjoyed it more when the glasses weren't branded. I think when you travel this much, you become attached to some details that you consider marks of authenticity, little things that make you feel like your experience is unique, of the moment and not culturally mass-produced.
Themed Class Portraits. This was both the strangest and most recurring thing Czech people liked. From Prague to Rožnov pod Radhoštěm, store windows displayed photo collages of a graduating class. These weren't your average hold-a-rose-and-look-to-the-right portraits. There were some really elaborate set-ups and a number of risque ones that we just didn't feel right photographing. (A lot of girls appearing nude except for a chair or a tuba or something covering their sensitive parts). Students recreated famous works of art, took expensive on location shots with jets and motorcycles, presented themselves as Simpsons characters.
My personal favorite was this gangster motif, featuring $100 US bills. I'm not sure if my parents would have been less happy footing the bill for a professional portrait of me straddling a backwards chair or holding a handgun. A lot of these made you wonder what the teacher (always displayed in the corner, keeping with the theme) was thinking.

Things Austrian People Like

Single-Serving Pâté. This is something that Merlin wrote home about the first time he went to Austria with his father and brother. Every breakfast buffet would serve these meat spread cups alongside jam, honey and butter. What surprised me was the variety. Even in the most humble of breakfast settings, there would be more than one liver pâté to choose from: calf, goose, chicken and sometimes "meat," which I imagine was some combination.

Dirndls. It's true. Austrian people really do like and often wear them. Lederhosen are around as well, but we didn't see them nearly as often. At first, there was something unsettling about them to me. I think it's the apron, which seemed to scream "gender roles!" It was hard to understand choosing to dress like this, in a sort of out-of-date uniform, for non-religious purposes. In the end, I decided it was just like the cowboy hats and bolo ties and embroidered denim of American Western wear. Like the red carpet at the Country Music Awards, it's just a way of keeping some cultural traditions alive.
Apple Strudel. You can have it for breakfast, at lunch, for a mid-afternoon snack, after your dinner or at midnight. No matter where you are, be it a gas station or a fine dining establishment, it will not only be offered, but ordered by everyone around you. It made me wonder if the phrase "as Austrian as apple strudel" exists here. If it doesn't, it should. The one above had the surprise addition of rhubarb, a rare break from tradition. "Topfen" (cream) strudel was another popular pastry, but definitely played second fiddle.
Walking Sticks. I am purposefully not calling them "hiking poles," because in Austria that didn't seem to be their most popular use. Throughout Germany and Switzerland (along with anyplace that had German or Swiss tourists), we saw people using these folding poles along trails. On a few big hikes in the Alps, we wished we had them. Here, though, we would hear the click, click, click of people walking just about everywhere. Merlin came up with the explanation that it must be an exercise technique. The poles make you move your arms and the clicks help you keep pace with your partner. (Most stick-walkers came in pairs). Somehow, that reasoning made us like them even less.

Mozart Souvenirs We get the importance of Mozart and the national pride involved, but the sheer number of items bearing his likeness was astounding. Wolfgang Amadeus 'endorsed' chocolates from the grave most often, but items ranged from edibles to porcelain dishes to pocket books. Even outside of touristy areas, you'd see the red and gold border and white powdered wig on something or other.

Maypoles or Maibaum. The first time we spotted one, we had no idea what it was. I guessed it was a dried out leftover from Christmas, but Merlin correctly reasoned that it wasn't that dry. Then, we realized May Day had just happened. It's been German and Austrian tradition to erect a Maibaum on the first of May since the 16th century. Depending on the region, it can stay up for one month or one year. We saw a few Charlie Brown-looking ones, so I hope those were only one monthers.

Pumpkin Seed Oil. It's nutty, delicious, has health benefits and is used to cook just about everything in the Styrian region of Austria. Once heated, it becomes much more of a neutral oil, but uncooked it packs quite the flavor punch. We grew to like Kürbiskernöl just about as much as Austrian people do - even if it does turn everything slightly green.

Things Swiss People Like

Let's just get all the obvious things out of the way: dairy products, chocolate, yodeling, hiking.

A quick note about dairy products, though. As you can see by the photo snapped conspicuously on a grocery checkout line, cheese is definitely the favored milk product. The variety for sale, even at a gas station, was impressive. We hope the man above was having a dinner party, but with Swiss people you can't be too sure. Another favored lactose indulgence was cream dolloped onto meringues. That one sort of surprised us.

The Swiss flag. Almost every home hangs the red and white banner of patriotism in their front lawn. Cars place them in their windows. People wearing white-crossed baseball caps or shirts aren't necessarily tourists. It's the only square flag in the world, aside from Vatican City's. So, maybe the extra affection comes from its uniqueness.

Swiss people really like their national flag as well as the flags of the cantons and municipalities. Most often, all three are displayed together - along with any other one that signified the town or the family or the body of water. There were a lot of flags.

Large Chess Boards. At first we thought this was a one-off sighting in Bern. I'm used to couples dueling under the shade of park trees, but never standing up like this. It reminded me more of Mel Brooks' History of the World Part I than Washington Square Park.
But then we saw it again outside Luzern. Leave it to the Swiss to take one of the ultimate low-impact hobbies and make it a bit more physical. Now, if it were an enormous checkers board, it would have deserved its own post.
.5 Liter Bottles of Wine. It was rarer to find a full bottle of wine (750ml) than a 500ml one in Switzerland. In cafeterias, they were thrown into ice alongside beer. At highway rest stops, they were next to the Red Bulls in the fridge. It was nice to be able to buy two and try out the different types - also, one bottle is never really enough for two people (like us), but two is a little too much. So, these allowed us to strike the perfect balance. The downside: not necessarily wanting to have more than a glass at lunch and lugging the rest back down a mountain in your backpack. Waste not, want not.
Rare cars. The Swiss franc is doing very well and its pretty darn evident in a line up of parked cars. Most of the times, the rare cars we saw were classic BMWs, Bugattis and Maseratis. Sometimes, though, we saw something like the vehicle above. We had absolutely no idea what it was or where it came from, but there it was in Switzerland.
Paragliding. This is the thing that Swiss people liked which we got the most joy out of observing. On a Saturday or Sunday morning in the mountains, there were so many in the sky that I was half-expecting David Attenborough to begin a tale of great human migration.

We parked right next to a paragliding school and watched them land one after another, completely mesmerized. The landscape is just begging for the activity and Merlin coined it "a truly Swiss sport." I think he's right: it enjoys the natural splendor of things in a completely incomparable way. It's risky, but gentle. It involves gear, but not competitiveness. On Mother's Day, we saw at least one mom land with her husband and grown-up children cheering her on.

Honorable Mentions

Rösti aka fried, shredded potato aka Hash Browns. Sometimes they were served alongside a main course. Sometimes, with melted cheese or an egg on top, they were the main course. It was on every menu, ordered often and in great abundance in vacuum packs at the grocery stores.

Swiss products. Again, their economy is doing pretty well these days. Chain stores like COOP and Migros sold groceries that were almost exclusively Swiss. If it wasn't from Switzerland, it was labeled as such. Even menus would specify if meat was from any other country. For example, the horse meat in Gruyeres was from Canada - oddly enough.

Swiss Army Knives. Some of the window displays were absolutely comical. There's simply no way some of the combinations for sale could ever fit in someone's pocket. Of course, each had the much-loved Swiss flag on it.

Things Sammarinese People Like

Cranes. Not the feathered type or the paper type, but the type that lift things. Warm weather always brings construction and in San Marino that involves a lot of cranes. It's a country built up the sides of a mountain, so it seems pretty logical- especially because a lot of the buildings they're working on are not only built on seriously steep hills, they are also surrounded by narrow streets that would never fit a construction truck.
We realized that there were so many cranes when we found ourselves saying, "Wow, that would be such a great picture if that crane wasn't there" multiple times per day. In fact, we toyed with the idea of publishing a post simply called "Great Pictures of Cranes Ruining Great Pictures." After a while, they just became part of the scenery for us. If you look at some of Merlin's favorite views, you can definitely spot a crane.
Double-Decker Tramezzini. Like aperitivo, this was a case of the Sammarinese taking something Italian a step further. A tramezzino is a sandwich traditionally made with an oversized piece of white bread (cut diagonally, de-crusted) and a simple filling. In San Marino, however, there were three pieces of bread (or 1 1/2, really) and two different sets of fillings. The combinations we ran into most often were tuna & artichoke + lettuce & tomato and mushroom & mayo + ham & cheese. I thought that it was pretty nice to be able to, essentially, have two tramezzini, but save eating a piece of bread. Merlin thought of it as having two tramezzini and getting one less piece of bread. We concluded that the Italian variety was better either way you (diagonally) cut it, because these were a bit of a mushy flavor overload.
San Marino Adventures is a pretty big deal here. It's the "biggest Adventure Park on the Adriatic Riviera," according to its promotional literature and you see signs for it posted along every major road in San Marino. We visited a few times, because the parking lot adjacent was a perfect home base for several hikes, and played with the idea of trying it out ourselves. In the end, we only watched as other people 'adventured' across ladders strung up high in trees and across zip lines. Laughing at people laughing at their loved ones who are not laughing at all as they try to untangle themselves from a net is pretty priceless.
Air Guns. We spent a lot of our two weeks in San Marino trying to figure out what the heck all the air guns were about. A set of google searches led nowhere. Are they legal here and not in Italy? Are there actual guns sold inside, too, that can't be advertised? Up in the Historic Center, the amount of military and arms-ccentric shops is baffling. We passed by seven of them just looking for postcards. Along with air rifles and air handguns, they sell camouflage duds, pocket knives, swords and the like.
Needless to say, we saw many a teenage boy and grown man carrying around sword-sized boxes. Initially, we figured it was some strange tourist thing - but then we saw Air Gun stores along the highway and in other parts of town devoid of tourist attractions. My theory is this: The three towers lend themselves perfectly to a sort of Medieval Times brand of tourism, which led to the Museum of Torture and the Museum of Modern Weaponry, as well as shops selling swords and shields. Over time, sword and shield shops evolved to include air guns and the tourism bureau pushed to get some sort of law in place making it easier and/or cheaper to buy those things in San Marino than in surrounding Italy. But that's just a theory.
Local Wine on Tap. Every bar and cafe had San Marino wine on tap. It was always the white, sparkling (frizzante) variety and shared the tap with either a German beer or Coca Cola. They like their wine on tap so much, that at most casual eateries, there's no way of ordering wine by the glass. You chose between 1/4, 1/2 or 1 litre, each of which would be placed on your table in a branded carafe like the one above. It's an excellent way of doing things, really. In San Marino, we drank tap wine and bottled water. (For the record: tap water is totally potable here, just -like most of Europe- not served in restaurants).
The Funivia runs from Borgo Maggiore to the Centro Storico, arguably the two most popular towns in San Marino. It seemed to be running constantly and the parking lot at the bottom was perpetually full. The fact that driving up and into the historic center is sort of difficult, parking is more expensive and access is quite limited adds to the funivia's popularity. There was a walking path up, as well - the Costa dell'Arnella Footpath - which Merlin and I preferred. We figured, the twenty minute climb was actually faster than waiting for the tram, yet we saw only three or four people (2 of whom were on mountain bikes) in our dozen or so trips up/down.
Looking down from the top, we could see why more people didn't take to the trail and why they all liked the funivia so much. Of course, you don't actually walk the 475 foot gradient straight up like the funivia, there are enough turns to make it pleasant. (It was still amazing, though, to see the mountain bikers coming up alongside us).

Honorable Mentions

L'Agretti. On a few hikes, we ran into people poking around in the grass with a stick while carrying a handful of weeds. Then, we had lunch at a restaurant in Serravalle and were served a vegetable called agretto, which looked like steamed dark green grass and tasted like sweet spinach. The proprietor told us that they don't have agretto in America and that it grows "right in the sand." The next time we saw a hiker doing some casual weeding, we put two and two together. If you're ever in an Italian or Sammarinese supermarket and see a bundle of vegetable that looks like chives, but firmer and with a purplish bottom, I highly suggest you get some and cook it up.

Guard Dogs. Unfortunately, we learned how much the Sammarinese like these firsthand. Bark, bark, bark was basically the soundtrack to most of our walks anywhere close to a house. They were all very intent on protecting their owner's property. In fact, we didn't pass a single dog that didn't yelp and growl at us. Luckily, all of them were either fenced in or chained, which was comforting. Merlin thinks that the reason they were particularly aggressive was the fact that they were fenced in or chained. Chicken and egg.

Hello Kitty. I have seen the following Hello Kitty branded items since arriving in San Marino: necklace, keychain, purse, backpack, sweatshirt, sweatpants, car visor, sunglasses and more that I'm sure I've forgotten. Babies, little girls and grown women all really like the pink-bowed feline. I definitely saw a commercial advertising a Hello Kitty powdered sugar sifter - for decorating cakes.

Things Italian People Like

Pinocchio. Italians seem to really like Pinocchio. Maybe they don't like him as much as they are proud of their great contribution to children's literature. There are a lot of souvenir shops in this country and every one of them is filled with the wooden boy. We saw posters for a Pinocchio themed circus, a Pinocchio themed water park. I honestly saw more Pinocchios than Mona Lisas (though that may be because they're a little peeved that she lives in France).
Gelato. It's not just for tourists who are looking to fill up before Praying and Loving. It's served just about everywhere. What was most surprising to me was the fact that if someone offered gelato, they always offered at least eight flavors. One flavor that kept popping up was Zuppa Inglese (which my mom chose, in the center, above). It was basically gelato with pieces of 'zuppa inglese' in it (sponge cake which has sopped up liquor and been drizzled with cherry and chocolate). Looks: 5. Taste: 8.
Aperol Spritz. Italians like Aperol Spritzes so much that bartenders call it simply "a spritz." It's made with Aperol and either prosecco or white wine and always served with a slice of blood orange. Sometimes a splash of tonic water is added and/or a green olive - which tastes better than you would think. Aperol is like a sweeter, less alcoholic Campari. It sites rhubarb, bitter orange and gentian among its ingredients. For the record, this was the only spritz we ever saw in branded glassware.
Covering Pizza with Prosciutto. Any time we sat in a restaurant that also functioned as a pizzeria, we would see pie after pie come out of the oven and then proceed to have one long, thin sheet of prosciutto after another laid upon it. Vegetable pizza, mushroom pizza, cheese-less pizza, it didn't matter. I worried for the poor waiter who then had to distinguish which pie was which at the table.
The Piaggio Ape. The vehicle was created after WWII by the man who came up with the other most-liked-by-Italians-vehicle, the Vespa. We saw them in every part of Italy except for, thankfully, the autostrada. This isn't an excellent picture, but imagine it loaded up with hay or crates of tomatoes or a few pigs - then, imagine a large, burly man with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth filling the entire cab. Another ape variety we saw quite often had a covered back, like a vespa van as opposed to this vespa pick-up.
Driving Erratically. It's hard to get an adequate illustration of the Italian love of driving erratically, but if this is your average parking job, you can just imagine...
Autogrill. The final car/driving related thing, I promise. Autogrills line the autostrada in Italy and there's even one in the center of Rome, which has constant lines of motorcycles and vespas parked outside. We dined there once and in true Italian fashion, were given a slice of warmed bread and a packet of extra virgin olive oil with our better-than-average packaged salads. When I looked up Autogrill, I discovered that its not only the largest retail-catering company in the world's travel sector, but its majority shareholders are the Bennetons. What's funny about that is the fact that United Colors of Benneton stores have been everywhere. Literally every town has at least one if not three (men, women, maternity/children). What Gap is to the US, Benneton is to Italy. So, basically, Autogrill is like a Gap-owned Cracker Barrel (without the country store).

Honorable Mentions

Good food, good wine and sunglasses should go without saying.

La Pausa. This is the two to four hour break in the middle of the day, which seemed really lovely in theory, but was actually quite frustrating in practice. Nothing makes you feel more American than discovering your need to get errands done trump your admiration for the concept of the siesta.

Wishing Each Other A Good Day. No matter how busy an Italian is, they will always take the time to wish someone a good day as they arrive and as they depart. Two people will interrupt their conversation to simultaneously greet a new arrival. A person standing next to you at a counter, with whom you have made no contact whatsoever, will wish you a good day as you pay up. During our time in Tuscany and Umbria, every "bon giorno" came with a smile.

Emergency Pulls in the Shower. We're pretty sure that it is actually required by law in Italy to have an emergency button in a hotel shower. So, maybe this isn't so much something Italians like as it is something they do. Even still, if you're ever in a shower in Italy and see a string hanging from somewhere high up. Do. Not. Pull. It.