Have Yourselves a Merry Little Christmas!

I know. I'm sorry.

But, to be fair, I did say up front that I couldn't promise regular posts.

At least I've been checking in on Facebook, so you know I didn't just vanish from the face of the planet.

Here's a short summary of where I've been in the last month:

London, England

York, England

Edinburgh, Scotland

Glasgow, Scotland

Cardiff, Wales

And now I'm back at my aunt's house in Bad Kreuznach, just in time for Christmas! Evan is here, too, and we've been decorating the Christmas tree, drinking Gluehwein (mulled wine), and wrapping presents since I arrived yesterday afternoon, plus we watched Elf last night, so now it's officially Christmas.

Froehe Weinachten to you and your families! Hope you have a spectacular holiday season.

I'll try to catch up on my posts soon, or at least get some pictures up.

But still no promises.

Ich Bin Ein Berliner

I really struggled with whether I should "get political" with this post (which is one of the reasons this post took so long). 

I wanted to keep my blog focused on my travels, I wanted it to be a happy place where my readers can come and live vicariously through me and my adventures.

But truthfulness is very important to me as well; that's why I relate my mishaps as well as my triumphs here. It's all part of my experience. So, in the interest of truthfulness, I have to talk a little bit about the presidential election and my thoughts and feelings about it, because they did play a part in my experience in Berlin.

I hope this won't deter anyone from reading this post, but if it does, well, I hope you have a nice day. I can't blame you for being sick of all the political talk.

For those who are sticking with me...

I went to sleep in Berlin pretty early in the evening of November 8th. I slept pretty well, secure in the belief that, though it would be a close race, in the end Hillary Clinton would be our 45th President, not Donald Trump.

I woke up in a very different world than the one I went to sleep in. I checked the election results and felt as if the floor had fallen out from under me. I felt so very wrong-footed and naïve for having believed that there was no way my fellow Americans would really choose Trump and his hateful, divisive rhetoric, no matter how appealing his attitude towards economic reform.

I was scared to leave my hostel room and face the people from other countries. In my travels, every European, every Asian, every Australian that I've spoken to has expressed their dislike for and fear of Donald Trump. I was afraid of how I would be judged as an American now that Trump was our President-elect.

But I made myself go out into the city anyway, making a little extra effort to blend in. I headed to the Brandenburg Gate, where my free walking tour would depart at 10am. I was a little early, and I was shocked to see a crowd of reporters all around the square, until I noticed that all of the cameras were pointed at the American embassy.

At the Brandenburg Gate bright and early

I joined the group of people waiting for the tour, and got to chatting with the tour guide, another friendly Australian who, upon discovering that I was American, half-jokingly offered me the Canadian flag pin he wore. But he was sympathetic to me, apparently the only American brave enough to show up that day, and promised to hold off on making his usual jokes about the US on his tour.

There is a lot of history in Berlin, including of course the Berlin Wall. (Which was actually comprised of an inner wall and an outer wall, with the area in between known as the "death strip," for reasons which should be fairly obvious.) The tour guide related several stories of escape from East Berlin to West, including one family who crossed the wall using a makeshift zipline. In making their getaway, the family was observed by guards at the Wall, who didn't shoot at the escapees because they thought that surely they were East German spies sneaking over to West Berlin for reconnaissance.

We also visited Checkpoint Charlie, the site of a standoff between Soviet troops and American troops during the Berlin Wall era, a standoff that nearly heated up the Cold War into World War 3. Checkpoint Charlie was destroyed when the Berlin Wall came down, but was rebuilt and manned with actors to meet the demands of tourists to Berlin who wanted to see it.

It was funny that my first day in Berlin was the 9th of November. As the tour guide explained, November 9th has earned the nickname Schickalstag, or "Day of Fate," a bit of black humor among Germans. Apparently almost everything of significance in Germany occurs on this date. For example:
--1848: Robert Blum, a major player in the push for German democracy, was executed (which put a damper on the democratic movement for a while)
--1918: Kaiser Wilhelm II abdicated, and the Weimar Republic was established, unifying Germany
--1923: Munich Beer Hall Putsch, the first, unsuccessful attempt by the National Socialist (Nazi) Party to seize power in Munich
--1938: Kristallnacht, or the Night of Broken Glass
--1989: the Berlin Wall opens, reuniting East Berlin and West Berlin

After the tour, I made my way to the Ritter Sport store, which was a mistake. Why? Because Ritter Sport is chocolate and I hadn't eaten lunch. I managed not to lose my head completely and demonstrated admirable restraint in not spending €8 to design my own chocolate bar. That being said, I did still drop a decent chunk of change there (but mostly on gifts, I swear).

So. Much. Chocolate.

I then decided that lunch should be the next item on my agenda, so I found an Imbiss (the German equivalent of a hot-dog stand) and managed not only to order a bratwurst and fries, but also to make small talk with the woman working the Imbiss, entirely in German! 🎉

You can't tell me that doesn't make your mouth water.

Next stop was the Topography of Terror, a museum located near the longest remaining segment of the outer Berlin Wall. The Topography of Terror features exhibits about what life was truly like in Berlin under the Nazi regime, and some of the reasoning behind the strategies that the Nazis used.

Pretty heavy stuff, so, as I'm sure you can imagine, I felt like my day was pretty much done after that. I walked back across town to my hostel, stopping to grab a salad for dinner on the way (my body was really jonesing for some veggies after the bratwurst and fries).

After a night of tossing and turning, I got up and went for a run (both for my sanity and to put the brakes on my downward spiral into out-of-shapeness).

I ran through Berlin's main park, the Tiergarten, and found myself at the foot of the Victoria statue.

It was then, taking a short stretching break in the shadow of the monument, that I noticed the sole of my right running shoe was peeling away from the upper. That, combined with the stench emanating from my shoes when I pulled them off three kilometers later, made me think that maybe I should invest in a new pair of running shoes.

Luckily, my German was sufficient enough to navigate the shoe section of a department store without incident, and I emerged half an hour later with clearance-rack Asics. Score.

My mission for footwear successfully accomplished, I meandered around the city in the sunshine, stopping to grab some Chinese food for a late lunch/early dinner as it got dark. It was a bit of a hike back to my hostel from where I'd wandered to, so I had to make a pit stop for provisions (coffee and some sort of chocolate-caramel-almond concoction) on my way.

By the time I got back to my hostel, I was feeling the need to socialize, so I headed downstairs to my hostel's bar, where I got myself a liter of beer--because Germany--and introduced myself to a couple of people who clearly shared my opinion that a stein of beer sounded good.

A liter of beer makes for a great conversation starter, or so I'm learning.

I spent most of the next day at the Berlin Zoo, which has over 20,500 individual animals of 1,500 different species, making it the most diverse zoo in the world.

I had a blast.

My inner child was thrilled to be outside looking at animals of all shapes and sizes, rather than inside staring at more boring paintings and fiddly things behind glass in yet another museum. I stayed at the zoo from open to close.

Llamas! (Or maybe alpacas. I forget.)

Fish face!

The next day, I'd planned to do an "alternative" tour of the city, featuring some of the hot spots for graffiti and the more hipster bars in Berlin. But when I arrived 15 minutes before the tour was scheduled to begin, I was told that the tour was completely booked up. Though I was glad to have an excuse not to shell out 13 Euros, I was a bit crestfallen. I perked up, though, when the tour guide offered to mark on my map some of the more interesting stops on the tour route, so I could check them out on my own.

One of those places was the East Side Gallery. After only a brief detour through a street market (I was distracted by the shiny things), I headed to the metro station. Thinking ahead, I purchased two tickets--one for the ride there, and one for the ride back--and jetted off to a new part of the city.

The East Side Gallery is the longest remaining section of the inner Berlin Wall, which has now been converted into a street art gallery. I spent almost two hours walking along the wall, studying the graffiti and murals, some of which have been there for almost three decades now, and many of which were painted by local art students. Here are a few of my favorites:

My plan then was to head back towards my hostel, and get off a stop early to walk by one of the other places suggested by the tour guide. So I walked toward the nearest metro station, and just barely managed to catch the next train going the direction that I needed.

If only I'd waited seven minutes for the next one.

In my rush to catch the train, I'd forgotten to validate my second metro ticket. I didn't realize this until a ticket inspector came around at the stop before the one I was getting off at.

With a sinking feeling in my stomach and tears welling up in my eyes, I produced my unvalidated ticket, and was asked to step off the train. On the platform, I pulled out the ticket that I had remembered to validate earlier that day, and, in a rush of tears, explained my mistake. The guy was extremely nice and very sympathetic, and probably would have let me off with a warning, had his supervisor not been standing right there. So, hiccuping through my tears, I coughed up the €60 fine.

After the ticket inspectors had departed on another train, I collapsed onto a bench to try to pull myself together. Out of the corner of my tear-filled eye, I saw an elderly couple approach. Apparently they'd witnessed the entire incident, and wanted to help me out. After one polite refusal, I gratefully accepted the €30 (and the tissue) that they offered.

I opted for the long way back to my hostel, on foot, through the Tiergarten. I needed it to calm down. I also needed a beer, so I ordered one with my kebap when I finally got to the block where my hostel was located.

Exhausted by the turn my day had taken, I went to bed pretty early that night. Which was also a good decision because I had an early train back to Bad Kreuznach the next day. It was time for a few days at my home away from home before my next adventure: Paris!

A Few Days in BK (That's Bad Kreuznach, Not Burger King)

Honestly, for the last week before I returned to my aunt's house, I was kind of counting down the days until I would be there. I had been traveling solo for almost a month at that point, moving to a new city (and often, a new country) every few days, and I was ready to be someplace familiar, with family rather than a new batch of strangers.

I was ready for a little break, a few days when I wouldn't feel obligated to wake up early, get out, and go do stuff every single day. A few days when I wouldn't have to decide whether to go out to dinner or figure out what to cook or to just skip eating altogether because it was just too expensive/too much effort.

I was tired of the same clothes that I'd been wearing for a month straight (most of which were black, chosen for ease of matching and so as not to show wear).

And I was ready to dump all of the heavy souvenirs that I'd been hauling around for the last few weeks.

It was strange, coming back to my aunt's house, though; when I'd left in September, it had still been summer. Now, it was most decidedly fall. No more leisurely evenings out on the balcony; we'd traded warmth for gorgeous colors on the trees and in the vineyards.

Aside from the seasonal changes, everything was comfortingly unchanged. It was nice to climb into a familiar bed and to pet familiar dogs and to use the same full-sized bottles of shampoo and conditioner as I had a month earlier.

It was nice to have a couple of lazy days, during which the most eventful thing that happened was scoring a pair of sneakers for less than €13.

And it was WONDERFUL to run again.

When packing my backpack for my month away from my aunt's house, I'd realized how little space 40 liters really is. At the last minute, I'd rashly decided to ditch my running shoes--they were so bulky, and I'd get exercise walking everywhere anyway--a decision that I came to seriously regret. I MISSED running.

Even though I've never been much of a city runner, every time I saw someone running through town, I'd get mad jealous. Or I'd e walking through a really nice park, like the English Gardens in Munich, and just want to go for a run.

So the first morning back at my aunt's house, I got up and went for a run. And man, I could not wipe the smile off of my face. Even after a month off, running felt GOOD. Apparently I'd walked enough to counterbalance the junk food and maintain some level of fitness.

On Monday, my plan was to work on my blog most of the day, and get all caught up before Evan arrived the next morning. Well, I did manage to get a bit of blogging done, but that all went out the window early that afternoon when there was a knock at the door and there Evan was!

There have been very few times in my life that I have felt as surprised as I did in that moment, so major props to Evan and my aunt for scheming behind my back for three weeks and managing to pull that off!

We love the bridge houses!

Suddenly, I got to reprise my role as tour guide (which you all know I have sorely missed) and show Evan around Bad Kreuznach in the rain. To escape the downpour, I also introduced him to that wonderful German tradition of afternoon coffee and cake.

YUM.

One of the things that Evan was most excited to see in Germany was castles, so the next day, we took a train along the Rhine to my favorite castle, Rheinfels.

We bought our tickets at the gate, from a guy who was just as excited about he fact that we got a student discount as we were. We spent hours exploring the ruins and being adventurous. 

Even though I'd been to the castle only a month earlier, Evan and I still managed to find parts of the ruins that I hadn't seen the last time, including several mining tunnels. I'm generally not a big fan of tunnels--something about enclosed underground spaces tends make me hyperventilate--but I was feeling brave that day. I was even game to try a very narrow tunnel--one that involved simultaneously ducking and climbing--until I came face-to-face with a big ol' spider. I was out of that tunnel so fast I practically bowled Evan over. 

We did a bit more exploring in the castle, now out in the more open bits, before wandering down through the town of St. Goar below the castle. There, Evan had his first real bratwurst.

One of my hobbies is taking unflattering pictures of people while they eat.

We enjoyed more authentic German food at dinner that night; my aunt had made Speisbraten, a roasted pork loin stuffed with onions, served with leeks and potatoes.

In the interest of stuffing Evan full of as much German food as possible, we had Zwiebelküchen (onion cake) and Federweißer (new wine) for lunch on Wednesday, in between bouts of packing. My aunt packed us some leftover-Speisbraten sandwiches for dinner, and Evan and I were off to Frankfurt, where we spent the night in a hostel before catching our bus to Brussels at 7:00am Thursday morning.

Even though I was "home" for almost a week, those days flew by...I couldn't believe that I was already leaving again! But at the same time, I was really excited to get to Brussels. 

After all, Belgium is where waffles come from.

The Other Freiburg

No, not Fribourg/Freiburg in Switzerland. I got the heck out of that country before it could steal any more of my money. This Freiburg is in Germany.

After my rather stressful stay in Switzerland, I was ready for a much-needed weekend of relaxing. I was a bit nervous upon arriving in Freiburg, however. I would be staying in an Airbnb for the first time.

For those of you who don't know, Airbnb is a website that connects travelers with hosts all over the world. You pay a (usually pretty reasonable) fee to stay in their home, sometimes in a spare room, sometimes on their couch. I figured it would be a nice change from staying in hostels; I'd only have to share a bathroom with one or two people, rather than five or more. And I was interested to observe real Europeans in their natural habitats.

But on the other hand, in spite of all the great reviews for the Airbnb that I'd booked, I was anxious about staying with total strangers, in their home, in a foreign country. At least I knew my hosts spoke English.

My train pulled in to the Freiburg Hauptbahnhof on Friday afternoon, and I clambered off, my movement somewhat impaired by the weight of all of my souvenirs. I shifted the straps of one of my bags to the crook of my elbow, and then used my little T-Rex arm to fish out my phone and pull up my navigation app. The 25-minute walk looked pretty straightforward...until I was about 100 meters down the road and two minutes had been added to my arrival time to compensate for my sluggish pace.

Forty minutes later, sweaty and panting even in the crisp Fall air, I arrived at the address for my Airbnb and pressed the buzzer. The answering voice told me to come up to the 2nd floor, then buzzed me in. I groaned, remembering that in Europe, "2nd floor" means "climb two flights of stairs, not just one like you would to get to the second floor in America," and heaved the door open.

One of my hosts, a friendly-looking guy about my age, held the apartment door open, and encouraged me and all my stuff up the last flight of stairs. He showed me to what would be my room for the next three nights. I dropped my belongings to the floor, with a whispered "sorry" to the people below for the thump, and looked around. I was relieved to find that the room looked exactly as pleasant as it had in the pictures online.

I was even more relieved to discover that my hosts were pretty cool people. The guy invited me to join him and his friends for lunch in the dining hall at his university, where each of us got a huge plate of some pretty delicious tortellini, plus a salad, for €2.50. That was exactly what I needed to recover from all the expense of Switzerland.

I was seriously impressed by how well my host and his friends spoke English. (I also really appreciated it, because, as much as I want to learn German, I wouldn't have enjoyed the conversation nearly as much if that had been the language we used.) It turned out that all three of them--as well as my other host that I had yet to meet--were studying teaching at the university. It was pretty cool hearing about how the process of becoming a teacher works in Germany: it takes a total of seven years (five at university, and two interning) to become a teacher in Germany.

We also talked about the differences between going to college in the States and going to university in Germany. It typically takes longer to get a degree in Germany, but it's hecka decka cheaper there: compared to the thousands (or even tens of thousands) of dollars students pay per semester in the US, German students pay maybe €200 in fees per semester. The fall semester also starts later in Germany; the first day of classes was the day that I left Freiburg, October 17th. There's also more breaks during the school year, and competitive college-level sports aren't a thing (which, honestly, probably accounts for most of the difference in pricing).

My host, his friends and I also grabbed coffee at the library before parting ways. There, we talked about differences in another aspect of college life. The other way of saying that is that we compared notes on the drinking cultures in our respective countries.

My host then gave me directions to bike to the Altstadt (the old town). Yep, you read that right. I was getting back on the bike (both literally and metaphorically) and giving city biking another go. Luckily, Freiburg is a much smaller city than Frankfurt, so I wasn't on the bike for too long when getting from place to place. And there were fewer pedestrians and cars for me to potentially hit.

I wandered around the Altstadt for most of the afternoon, just taking it all in. I also popped into quite a few shops, just reveling in how cheap everything was, compared to Switzerland. I decided to treat myself to ice cream--only 80 cents a scoop!--at the Münsterplatz (the main square in the old town, where the cathedral stands). It was then, as I gazed up at the gothic spires, slurping at my ice cream cone that the unthinkable happened.

My ice cream cone broke.

As if in slow motion, I saw the top half of the cone, holding one scoop of dark chocolate and one scoop of raspberry, tumbling toward the cobblestones. Reflexively, my left hand shot out, and miraculously--blessedly, even--managed to snag the ice cream before it hit the ground. As I placed the ice cream safely back on the cone and set about licking the chocolate off of my fingers, I noticed a German guy watching me. He looked both amused and mildly impressed, and called across the square something that sounded congratulatory. I smiled, nodded, and went on my way.

That's right, the worst thing that happened on my first day out of Switzerland was that I almost--almost!--dropped my ice cream. It was good to be back in Germany.

I wandered until it began to rain, then swung by a grocery store on my way back to my Airbnb for the evening. I finally met my other host, a girl about my age who played handball, and was very interested to hear about the strange handball-like sport that I played. (If you're sitting there wondering what that sport might be, go to YouTube and search "Kronum" right now, and don't come back until you've watched at least three videos.)

I set about cooking pasta for dinner, glad to discover that my cooking skills weren't too rusty from the recent lack of use, and called it a night not too much later.

I started the next day early, eager to take advantage of the beautiful Fall weather while it lasted. I biked towards the old town, soaking in the fall colors and the cool architecture on the way. I parked my bike and went a-wandering again, stumbling upon the market at the Münsterplatz. And, oh did that make my heart happy.

One of the main reasons that I wanted to come to Freiburg was that I remembered visiting the city with my family the last time that we were in Germany. And one of my most vivid memories from that visit was the market. I still have the clay bird whistle and olive wood ring from the last time we visited Freiburg, eight or nine years ago.

At this market, there are dozens of meat vendors, fruit and vegetable sellers, and craftsmen and craftswomen selling everything from intricate floral wreaths to olive wood salad tongs to beeswax candles to painted ceramic toothbrush holders. I took about three laps around the whole market, scoping out the wares, before realizing I had nothing smaller than a 50-Euro bill on me. So I had to hit the ATM before I bought a woven basket, a patterned fabric hair and, two bars of honey-and-floral soap, a jar of Waldhonig (honey from the Black Forest), a silver and mother-of-pearl ring, a bratwurst, and a glass of Federweisser (new wine). I parked myself on the edge of the fountain to peoplewatch while I ate my bratwurst and drank my Federweisser.

I meandered away from the market, up and down streets that I'd somehow missed the day before. I realized, as I swapped my new basket full of souvenirs from one hand to the other, that I wasn't really sticking to my resolution of "no more big souvenirs." *sigh* It was going to be one long walk to the train station on Monday.

To distract myself from that disheartening realization, I found a sunny table outside of a café and treated myself to a cappuccino and a piece of apple cake. I then biked back to my AirBnb to drop off my souvenirs and unwind for a bit before going out in search of dinner. I'd resolved to go out that night after my absurdly early bedtime the night before.

So, after Skyping with my parents for an hour, I biked back into town. As it got dark, I wandered into the student-heavy part of town, hoping to find a good place for dinner, and maybe someone to talk to over dinner. I've gotten used to eating alone, even in restaurants, but solo meals simply aren't as much fun as eating with someone else.

After about forty-five minutes of walking around, I still hadn't settled on a place. Hangriness was setting in, and I had no one to blame but my indecisive self, a thought that didn't do much to improve my mood. I finally settled on a restaurant that I'd passed by thirty minutes prior, having dismissed it because I wasn't in the mood for burgers. But by this point, some American-style food actually sounded pretty dang good. So I ordered a Farmer's burger from the snooty waitress--my attempts to speak German apparently irritated her--and watched the students as they passed by, beers in hand, presumably headed for a fun evening out.

After devouring my burger and fries, I leisurely biked through the quiet residential streets back to my Airbnb. I'd transitioned quickly from "hangry" to "in a food coma," and my resolve to have a night out on the town had vanished with the last of my curly fries. At least I'd stayed awake until 10:00 pm this time.

I woke up almost twelve hours later.

Chalking it up to still recovering from Switzerland, I made myself a late breakfast while I chatted with my host. He didn't have any plans for another couple of hours, so he offered to show me to the hiking trail with a view over the city. It was nice to get out in nature again, and it was nice to have some company as well. And the view over Freiburg as pretty great.

After my host headed off to meet up with some friends, I biked to the complete opposite side of town to do some more hiking; once I'd had a taste of the outdoors that morning, I knew what I wanted to do for the rest of the day. I biked on the paths around the Waldseepark for a while, then hopped off to sit by a peaceful little duck pond for a while.

I biked back into the city, parked myself at a sidewalk café, and spent the rest of the afternoon leisurely drinking several cappuccinos and sampling a variety of cakes. I'd earned it after all of the hiking and biking.

For my last evening in Freiburg, I played board games with my hosts. We played two games I'd never heard of before: Ligretto and Carcasonne. The first is a card game that involves quickly stacking cards in numerical order to empty your hand; I lost spectacularly. The second game is a somewhat complicated strategy game, centered on castle-building (named for the famous walled city of Carcasonne, France). Not only did I come out on top, I also scored a day trip idea for when I'm in France.

My train the next day didn't leave until 1:00pm, so I killed some time by grabbing coffee (and a pastry, of course!) while I wrote a postcard. I then realized--with the help of Google--that the only post office that didn't close for lunch, making it the only post office from which I could mail my postcard before I caught my train, was on the other side of town. So I once again clambered onto my bike. One twenty-minute ride later, I was standing at the end of a line that stretched out the door. Twenty minutes later, I still had yet to purchase my 90-cent stamp, and I was starting to worry about making my train. But then a blessedly-efficient postal worker came in from her lunch break, and I was out of there less than a minute later.

The next forty-five minutes involved racing via bike back to my Airbnb, scurrying to stuff my ridiculous amount of stuff into my bags, and trekking like a pack mule to the train station. I collapsed into my seat on the train, sweating profusely, and hoped the hike from the train station in Strasbourg to my Airbnb there would be shorter.

Insert Witty Title About Munich Here

Now that I'm no longer in the land of expensive mishaps  (otherwise known as Switzerland), I finally found time to write about Munich! Better late than never, right?

I arrived in Munich early in the afternoon, in the middle of a downpour. Luckily, my hostel was only two blocks from the Hauptbahnhof, so I was in the lobby by 1:15pm. It was then that I learned that check-in didn't start until 3:00pm. I wasn't thrilled about the idea of hauling my luggage around in the rain while I explored my new city, so I curled up with a book in the cozy greenhouse-like area of the lobby until 3:00.

When I was finally able to get into my room, I didn't spend long there. Pausing just long enough to put down my bags and smile at my new roommates, I headed back out into the rain.

I quickly found Marienplatz at the center of the old town, and took a break from the rain by ducking into a few of the many churches in the surrounding area. Now, I don't have a specific interest in churches as such, but European churches and cathedrals tend to be some of the most beautiful buildings from their various times, even if you know nothing about either churches or architecture. Plus, the appeal of the dry warmth within was irresistible.

Of the few produce stands open in the square on this rainy Tuesday evening, on had the reddest, most mouth-watering strawberries that I had ever seen. So I had to buy a half-kilo of them, which I promptly polished off. That tided me over while I did some more serious grocery shopping at the Aldi around the corner from my hostel. In the interest of saving money on food, I invested in some peanut butter, Nutella, and sandwich bread. Lunch for the next few days: check.

I grabbed a döner sandwich for dinner from one of the many kebap places in the neighborhood of my hostel, then hit the hay, hoping for better weather the next day.

Wednesday marked my official 1-month travel-versary, which kicked off with breakfast in the hostel. I had some time to kill before the 10:45 walking tour, so I headed out into the city in search of a drugstore, so I could replenish my supply of teeny-tiny toiletries. I walked for about 20 minutes without coming across one, so I broke out my navigation app, which told me there was a DM (the German equivalent of CVS) right around the corner. Well, I rounded the corner, my GPS chirping that I had arrived at my destination, and saw before me....a block of apartments. Just as I had come to the conclusion that I would need to bust out my German and ask a local, a set of escalators caught my eye. I hopped on the downward bound one, and, sure enough, there was a whole shopping center down there.

Mini-shampoo in hand, I returned to the hostel just in time for the walking tour, during which I had a bratwurst from the Viktualienmarkt, saw the devil's footprint in the Frauenkirche, and heard a lot about the kings of Bavaria: Maximilian I, Ludwig I, Maximilian II, and Ludwig II. (Not very creative, those Wittelsbachs.)

Our guide also took us through the Hofbräuhaus, and showed us the lockers where the regulars can store their steins (an honor that is literally passed down from generation to generation).

I also met a girl from Pittsburgh, which was the closest to home that I'd met so far (aside from the family friend in Iceland on my first day, of course). After the tour, we grabbed a cappucino and decided to check out the tower of Peter's Church, which gave us a pretty spectacular view of the city (which was fortunately not covered by clouds at that point).

We also caught the 5 o'clock show of the Glockenspiel at Marienplatz on our way to the Augustiner Bräustuben for dinner (which our guide had recommended). We treated ourselves to drafts of the best beer in Munich (according to the locals) and Prost!-ed with our tablemates.

Thursday was once again rainy, so I broke up my strolls through the Royal Botanical Gardens and the English Gardens with a trip to Munich's toy museum, which was four floors of the history of playthings, featuring toys up through the 1980s. Did you know that modern teddy bears (the kind that can move their heads, arms, and legs) were invented in the 1800s by a German?

After the toy museum, I wandered back through the English Gardens, where I leisurely strolled along the river, coming to a dead halt when I saw someone in it. It took me longer than it probably should have to realize that he was surfing. But then again, it was a rainy day with a temperature just above freezing, and we were a couple hundred miles from the nearest coast. But apparently river surfing is a thing in Munich, because once that guy wiped out, I noticed four others waiting their turn.

When I finally got too cold to keep watching the surfers, I wandered on in search of a hot coffee. I didn't have to wander far, because Fräulein Grüneis café was just a few paces from the river. I warmed my hands on a cappucino (I'm getting to be a pretty big fan of those) and splurged on an extra-large brownie before plunging back into the rain.

After about another hour out in the rain, I wasn't feeling so hot, so I headed back to my room to take a nap so I could rally for the rest of the evening.

Well, the nap happened, but the rallying didn't. Four hours later, I was still in bed, a pile of tissues beside me, bemoaning the germs from four different countries that, it seemed, had finally caught up with me. Half an hour later, I dragged myself to the grocery store for sustenance: two fresh pretzels and a bag of clementines (gotta get that Vitamin C from somewhere).

When I came back, I chatted with my roommate an optometrist from Malaysia (!). We ended up having a pretty interesting discussion about the differences between the values in our respective home countries, and how that affects who we become as people. #intellectual

It distracted from my misery for a little while, but I still called it quits early that night so I would be up for adventures again the next day.

Well, I wasn't up early the next day, but at least I was up. I braved public transportation to get to Olympiapark with only the bare minimum of mishaps. And by "bare minimum," I mean "took the wrong train, and then got off at the wrong stop once I was on the right train." Sigh.

For those of you who don't know, Munich's Olympiapark is where the 1972 Olympic Games were held; it's still in use today as a fitness park, convention center, and concert venue. (And, of course, as a tourist attraction.) I visited each of the stadiums, and the aquatic center, and debated paying €7 to go up in the TV tower (since it was cloudy, I decided against it). I also checked out the Walk of Fame along the lake, which has sidewalk squares--a lá Hollywood--featuring the handprints of the artists who have performed at the park.

Around 2:30, I headed toward the U-bahn station, stopping at BMW World on my way. I scoped out all the shiny new models, any of which I would have been happy to take home if they'd had automatic transmission. I also tested out a couple of the motorcycles that they had on display, and broke out my limited German to ask a grandfatherly-looking fellow to take my picture.

I then hopped on the U-bahn back into town, and managed to go one stop too far--oops--which meant that I saw a new part of the city--yay! I stopped in a café for--you guessed it--coffee and cake. This is one German custom that I will definitely be taking home with me.

I popped into a post office to mail a few postcards as I meandered back to the hostel, where I met up with my Pittsburgh friend. We went off in search of dinner at a schnitzel restaurant that the front desk staff had assured us would have both the fries that I was craving and the spätzle that my friend wanted to try on her last night in Germany. With a little help from public transportation, Google Maps, and a friendly local, we made it to the restaurant at about 8:00, as the dinner rush was winding down.

In an attempt to masquerade as locals, I helped my friend to place her order auf Deutsch, and then proceeded to eat my own currywurst and pommes frites German-style (using my fork for the fries, and keeping said fork in my left hand). Of course, I seriously doubt we fooled anyone into thinking we were native München-ers, since we spoke English to each other the entire time and high-fived after placing our orders. Americans will be Americans.

For my last full day in Munich, I had signed up for a tour of the famous Neuschwanstein castle (you may know it better as the "original Disney castle").

The castle was commissioned by Ludwig II, the "mad king" of Bavaria, who essentially sent the kingdom into bankruptcy by building yet another opulent palace, which he commanded should be destroyed after his death. Naturally, that wish was ignored, and Bavaria more than made back the money spent building Neuschwanstein in the first 11 years that it was open to tourists. "Mad king," or "forward-thinking?"

On the train rides to and from the palace (2 hours one-way), my tour group had plenty of time to get to know each other. We were mostly all American, with a couple of Australians, Argentinians (Argentines?), and a German mixed in.

Now, remember how I said that Pittsburgh was the closest to home that I'd met so far? Well, hold onto your hats for this next part.

Three of the Americans were from Madison, Wisconsin, and it turns out that they all work for the same company where my cousin just got hired.

Three of the other Americans were on leave from the Navy. One of them mentioned that he had attended Virginia Military Institute. As a shot in the dark, I asked whether he knew my friend, whose mom was our Girl Scout troop leader way back when. Not only did he know her, he was in charge of her group of first-years.

It's a small world after all, folks.

By the end of the train ride home, almost the entire group had decided to go to the Hofbräuhaus together for dinner. Well, by the time we got there, it was 8:30 on a Saturday night, and there was no table for our group of ten. So we went a few blocks away to a Paulaner beer hall, and got our Fassbiers and food. I ordered käsespätzle in a somewhat successful attempt to satisfy my craving for mac and cheese.

The next day dawned cold but clear; naturally it would be sunny now that I was leaving Munich. I chatted with my Canadian roommate while I packed up, and made myself a couple of PB&Ns for the road. (That's Peanut Butter and Nutella, in case you weren't sure.)

I ended up at the Hauptbahnhof 40 minutes early for my train to Zurich. I can never seem to remember that train stations aren't like airports. You don't need to get there super early to go through security; rolling up five minutes before the train leaves is A-OK. My train arrived 20 minutes later, and I boarded, full of optimism for my time in Switzerland.

Well, if you've been keeping up with my latest posts, you've gotten a sneak peek at how things went for me in Switzerland, but keep your eyes peeled for a recap post (with oodles of pictures of the Alps!) in the next couple of days.

A Teacher Goes to School

As many of you know, one of my main reasons for taking this trip to Europe was to take a break from school. I've been in school for the last 19 years of my life (pre-K through college), and I've been looking forward to taking this trip for at least the last 7 of those years.

So, naturally, a week after I got here, I went to school.

My Frankfurt friend is a teacher at a Gymnasium (that's what they call schools for grades 5-12) here in Germany, and she let me tag along with her for two days. I sat in on her 5th grade Geography class,as well as her 7th-grade math class. Then I headed to a colleague's German-as-a-Second-Language class. The next day, I observed half of a 6th-grade math class on fractions, then went to an 11th-grade English class as a guest speaker (!).

The rest of this post is a little bit of a brain dump of my observations from my two days in school. I'm not passing judgement on either American or German schools, just reporting what I noticed. Hopefully, my teacher friends in the audience find this interesting! (If you're not a teacher, hopefully it's at least a little bit interesting to you.)

General:
--Classroom management/discipline does not seem to be as much of a priority here as it is in American schools. Faculty and staff are generally more relaxed regarding students' behavior.
--Rather than raising an open hand in class to ask or answer questions, students raise their hands with their pointer finger extended. (It's just a little thing, but I found it interesting nonetheless.)
--The school day is broken up into nine 45-minute periods. After every two periods, there is a 20-minute break, during which students can chat, play soccer, or buy food.
--School food here is much healthier and tastier than that of American schools; fresh bread, vegetables, etc. It's real food, not frozen french fries or cardboard pizzas.
--Teachers are only required to be present at the school for the lessons that they teach.
--Students go on a lot of big trips. The week after I was at the school was Schulfahre week (school trip week), during which classes spend a week in various cities around the country. There are also major trips to other countries for various student organizations.
--The school is comprised of several buildings, spread out over the quad, with a few buildings across the street, rather than just one building (which is typical of the US).
--Students and teachers both swap classrooms throughout the day. No teacher has their own classroom, and classrooms are furnished with desks, chairs, chalkboards, and overhead projectors. Some classrooms also have cabinets with textbooks.
--There are about 1,800 students total in the school, and about 150 teachers.
--Classes aren't determined by ability level, just by age/grade.
--Technology wasn't very prevalent in this school. (I don't know whether it's like that in most German schools, or just this one.)

Learning a Second Language:
I was put in the shoes of a Language Learner here in Germany; I know a little bit of German, but am nowhere near fluent. This opportunity really helped me to understand what English Language Learners (ELLs) in US schools experience.

--My attention often drifted in the math and geography classes; it's much harder to stay focused when you don't know the language. I can't blame my ELLs for drifting away sometimes.
--Visuals are crucial. Even just gestures help a Language Learner to figure out what is going on.
--Small classes are far more effective for Language Learners, and for teachers. The students get the one-on-one help that they need, and it is much easier to differentiate to meet students where they are.
--Grammar is more difficult to learn than vocabulary. It's easy to fit new words into grammatical structures that you are familiar with than it is to
--It is intimidating to put yourself out there and speak in a language you are not comfortable speaking, one that you do not know well. If someone meets you halfway, even with just one or two words of your own language, you feel much safer trying out the new language.

German Perception of Americans:
When I went to the English class, students had a lot of questions about what life is really like in America. Those teens asked some hard-hitting questions. Hopefully, I did a good job of repping the US of A. Here are some of the highlights:

--Do Americans play a lot of soccer?
--Are American high schools as cliquey as they are on TV and in movies?
--Are people really serious about voting for Donald Trump?
--Does everyone drive cars everywhere, or do you ride bikes, take trains, etc. like we do in Germany?
--Does everyone really eat fast food?
--What is the difference between colleges and universities?
--You said you're from Baltimore. Are you a Ravens fan?
--What do you think about the refugee crisis?

Overall, a very interesting experience. Big thanks to my friend and her colleagues for letting me sit in on their classes!

Next post will have some pictures, I promise.

A Hot Dog in Frankfurt

No, not the thing on the plate...that's a bratwurst. In this scenario, I'm the hot dog. A real "L-7 weenie," to quote Squints from The Sandlot. 

Let me explain.

Frankfurt is a big biking city. Great, right? Bike lanes everywhere, it's super environmentally friendly, it's good exercise...win-win-win!

Well, I'm not really a big biker. I mean, sure, I'll go for the occasional ride around Howard County on those nice, quiet, well-maintained paths. But city biking is a whole different can of worms.

Picture this: me, on a bike that's made for someone at least 4 inches taller than me. Then jack that seat up another couple of inches and get it stuck there. Then drop me in the middle of a major city, one that I don't know my way around, one with a lot of narrow cobblestone streets, one with lots of pedestrians and rush-hour traffic to look out for.

My complete and utter lack of poise under pressure ensured that I traveled the streets of Frankfurt without a shred of dignity. I was a menace among the native Frankfurters, swerving to avoid one person, and causing three others to dive for cover. Stopping at busy intersections was easily the most harrowing and difficult experience that I have had thus far on my trip.

Miraculously, I never once crashed. Shout-out to my guardian angel for making sure I didn't end up smeared on some poor German's windshield.

I lied. I crashed once. But it was a tactical maneuver to keep from skidding into four lanes of oncoming traffic.

Aside from all this, I was happy to be in a city I hadn't planned on visiting. I went to Frankfurt to see a friend, one who I hadn't realized had just moved to Frankfurt two weeks before I arrived.

I had never really been to Frankfurt before. Yes, I've arrived in the Frankfurt airport every time I've come to Germany, but I've never really spent any time in the city.

As soon as I arrived, we hopped on the bikes (well, she hopped. I clambered) and got going.

Frankfurt, I was surprised to learn, is actually a very nice city. There are lots of museums along the river, which is criss-crossed by bridges of all different shapes and sizes. There are a lot of modern buildings (such as the striking European Union building), as well as buildings with more history to them (like the beautiful Alte Oper, or old opera house).

Since my friend was still new to the city, we ended up seeing more of it than we had intended on our way to dinner. We consulted a map several times, but still managed to take two hours to complete a (theoretically) 25-minute ride to the restaurant.

Upon finally arriving at Apfelwein Solzer, we collapsed onto the benches and ordered the specialty drink: apple wine. It was incredibly refreshing. So fresh, as if the apples had just been picked that morning, and a bit more tart than sweet--I think it's safe to say that American hard cider has been ruined for me now.

This is also where I got that bratwurst in the picture above. The other things on the plate were cheesy mashed potatoes (yum), sauerkraut (sweeter than in the States; also yum), and what I discovered, by taking a huge forkful, was some very potent horseradish sauce.

After dinner, we listened to the soothing voice of the Google Maps lady to get to one of the bridges, which had a great view of the city. (The picture doesn't really do it justice at all.)

We then made our way back across town to my friend's apartment. Since we'd taken so long to get to the restaurant, and then taken time over dinner, the streets were pretty quiet by this time, and the ride back was much easier and much shorter than the first.

I woke up very sore, and very glad that we were driving, rather than biking, to school. (Yes, I said school. More on that in the next post.)

Early afternoon, we got back on the dreaded bikes and wound our way through the streets, stopping for Eis at the main plaza (dark chocolate and Yogurelle flavored). It was also at that plaza where I made the rookie mistake of going into the first souvenir shop that I saw. I was in pursuit of postcards (my favorite souvenir), and was very satisfied with my purchases, until I caught sight of identical postcards in the shop next door for 20 cents cheaper each. Scheiße.

We also biked around the old part of town, where there are lots of Biergarten-style restaurants, most of which were getting ready to open as we cruised by. We once again braved rush-hour traffic to get back to my friend's apartment, where we ditched the bikes and had dinner at the café next door.

She then had to go to Back-to-School Night, and I wandered down the street in search of a grocery store. To celebrate successfully purchasing apple juice, I got my second Eis of the day (lemon and raspberry...yum). We then went back to the café for a drink before bed. She ordered a watermelon-basil concoction, and I went for iced tea with citrus and mint, which I would be happy drinking for the rest of my life. The owner of the restaurant has taken a liking to my friend since she moved in, and he suggested that he make us a dessert. We initially declined, citing the Eis we'd eaten earlier as our excuse, but relented when he suggested crêpes with Nutella.

This is the "small dessert" that he brought us.

Somehow we muscled through and finished it, then collapsed in a near-comatose state to watch the soccer games on TV. We struck up a conversation with the guy whose table we were sharing; he was glad to have the chance to practice his English, and I was glad to have someone else upon which to inflict my less-than-stellar German. Occasionally interrupting the conversation was our friendly neighborhood restaurantuer, bearing gifts of Schnapps.

The first one he brought was easily the most intimidating: a flaming combination of Bailey's and Kahlua, plus the German equivalent of Everclear, called a B-52. Our tablemate had to coach us through the process of consuming the drink; it is no easy task to knock that back through a straw (which you do without extinguishing the flame).

The next was a far more friendly strawberry drink that we actually sipped from our shot glasses. Since we had to be at school again today (Thursday), we said good night and got a solid 8 hours.

Before leaving town this morning, we had a breakfast of croissants (always a winner in my heart...or, rather, stomach) and to-go coffee. To-go coffee is not common in Europe, and for good reason: it's terrible. I will always opt to stay and savor an espresso, latte macchiato, or cappucino here rather than suffer through another to-go coffee.

Anyway, big thanks to my friend for hosting me in Frankfurt!

Keep your eyes open for the recap of my school days!

Germany! My First Few Days

As promised, the scoop on what I've been up to lately: 

My first day in Germany was a jet-lagged blur. I stumbled off the plane, cursing my luck at being seated in front of a child who, judging by their enthusiasm and persistence in kicking the back of my chair, is a budding soccer prodigy, and somehow found my way to baggage claim. I fell asleep standing up no less than three times while waiting for my black behemoth of a suitcase to appear on the belt. Thank the universe the signs in the Frankfurt airport are written in English, as well as German, otherwise I doubt I would have found my aunt and her friend waiting for me near the exit. 

Determined not to let me succumb to my exhaustion until a reasonable bedtime, my aunt dragged me to the grocery store as soon as my bags hit the floor in her front hall. We went up and down every aisle, she quizzing me endlessly on my food likes and dislikes, and me shuffling along, occasionally producing a coherent response. 

We returned to her house, and I was then permitted to unpack my suitcase, given a dire warning not to take a nap. My suitcase empty, we then headed to an Italian restaurant, where I ordered by pointing at the Specials board and hoping for the best. The bubbles in my Mineralwasser perked up my brain ever so slightly, and I was able to enjoy about half of my mussels-and-shrimp spaghetti before I began to doze off right there at the table. Soon after, we headed back to my aunt's house, and I finally, finally went to bed.

After a solid night's sleep, I awoke ready to storm some castles. We headed down the Rhine towards the town of Bacharach, hitting Burg Rheinstein along the way. 

My favorite part of this castle was the narrow staircase to the tower...it looked like it was ready to crumble away in places, or rust through with one wrong step, but conquering that thing paid off when I got to the tower. What a view! Not only of the rest of the castle, but also of the Rhein.

After Rheinstein, we headed to Rheinfels, the ruins of a castle a little further along the river. Though it was harder for me to picture people actually living there, it was a blast and a half wandering through the passageways and along the high walls. My aunt and I even braved a few of the roomier tunnels (me and small underground places don't mix).

After a lunch of Wurstsalat and Flammkuche, we headed to the woodburning shop in Bacharach for souvenirs. My family comes to this shop every time we come to Germany; the lady who works there recognized my aunt when we walked in. They chatted while I browsed, and I am proud to report that I understood about 95% of their small talk!

We made a quick pit-stop for Eis on the way out of town, then headed off in search of another castle.

After a slight detour (in which we made a wrong turn and nearly backed off the side of a cliff while trying to correct our error), we arrived at Burg Reichenstein.

This castle was the most museum-like of them all, but it was a good one to end with, because it was relatively small, and we were pretty tired of walking by this point. The highlight of Burg Reichenstein was easily the abundance of antler décor.

Classic.

Friday was a lazy day spent wandering around the town of Bad Kreuznach and the surrounding parks. I also partook of my first Spaghettieis!

On Saturday, we ventured to Rüdesheim, where we took a cable car over a hill of vineyards to see the famous Niederwalddenkmal statue, which was built after a victory over the French in 1871, in honor of the unification of Germany. Aside from another spectacular view of the Rhine, there wasn't much else to see up there, so we took the cable car back down to the town, and did some Christmas shopping. (Only 3 and 1/2 months to go!) The shop we went to is Buddy the Elf's paradise: every day is Christmas there.

We then sat at a café for ice cream. As we were finishing up, a wandering group of musicians strolled up the road and set up shop directly in front of us. We'd inadvertently chosen front-row seats for the impromptu concert; members of the band made use of the extra chairs at our table throughout the performance.

 

Sunday and Monday were two more lazy days, the highlights of which include breakfast at the bakery, long walks with my aunt's dogs through the woods and the vineyards, and hiking to Rotenfels (the highest point in the area around Bad Kreuznach). And lots of good food.

Tuesday morning, my aunt and I made the trek to the Rosengarten in Zweibrücken. (And by "made the trek," I mean she drove for an hour and a half while I navigated. And by "navigated," I mean I plugged the address into the GPS and then fell asleep for the rest of the ride.)

Despite the sign at the gate warning that it had been a bad year, weather-wise, for roses, the gardens were gorgeous. I got a little snap-happy, and did my best to take a picture of every flower in the garden for the first twenty minutes or so, before I calmed down and actually took the time to smell the roses, as they say.

What a gorgeous place. Next time, I'll come back at peak season.

Stay tuned for details of my spontaneous trip to Frankfurt!