Travel

2009 Central Europe

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SFO

Beginning at the Airport

There's not much to say about as SFO. If you've flown out of there, then you know the routine. Truth is all airports are pretty much the same after a while. You wait for planes; you board them. Enough said.

The flight

Long. The flight was long. Not much else to add. I was pretty cramped and didn’t sleep much, maybe an hour or two at the most. After takeoff, I usually fare a little better than most in economy. I can move my legs under the seat in front and recline my seat. This time, I also had the window seat. I like the window seat. I can take pictures of the clouds below me. Big white fluffy clouds. Yeah, those will sell well. Who doesn’t have enough cloud photos over her fireplace? Want clouds? I got your clouds right here. (full disclosure: I got NO cloud photos the entire trip)

As the plane lifted off, the glowing night change into an illuminated haze which soon transformed into clearness again as we flew above the foggy metropolis.  Patches of the city lights could be seen in breaks between clouds, clouds clinging tightly together as it banding together to keep something in or something out. Nevertheless, I had escaped. I was leaving the Bay Area. I was leaving the country.

It took some time to adjust my new claustrophobic surroundings. I can see how one could easily freak out if one isn't trained early on in life. I imagine if one doesn’t adapt early, it may never happen. Flying can be scary. Need to leave the plane? Sorry. Get used to your new friends for 10 hours.

The video system looked nice, but I spent about 20 minutes trying to figure out change the personal menu player from Japanese to English, trying one button after another. Finally, I succeeded. Turns out the correct button was in Japanese. Yes, one had to read Japanese to know how to switch it to English. Those goofy programmers. Always playing tricks.

To keep occupied after that, I watched The Duchess of Devonshire.  It was okay, but not great.  Since this journal is about my trip and not a movie review I won't get into it too much (then again I'm in a coffee shop right now with four hours to kill until my train arrives, so why not?) Well, the movie just seemed flat for the entire way.  As soon as it really got interesting...it ended. I suppose it was worth what I paid for it though.

(Okay that's it for my movie reviews. Three hours and 56 minutes still to kill until the train comes.)

Following that movie, I watched part of some French drama (Oops. Spoke too soon. More movie reviews). It only had two language options: French and German. I knew I wouldn’t be following much of it.  And follow it I did not.  Soon I was looking for another movie. I couldn't converse with the gentleman next to me as he was sleeping for the longest while.

I did find a German film about a mountain climbing tragedy--I mean, seriously, like they ALL died! This movie had English subtitles, so I understood.  It was entertaining if not depressing. It surprises me how many sad movies they show on airplanes, like we want our travels starting off with “life sucks, now go have fun.” But what about the food? Yes, let’s talk about that.

The food was actually good.  I had chicken for dinner and some red wine. My German from high school came in handy enough to say small things (“Haben Sie…Red Wine”) and offer small answers, but this of course led to full German phrases spoken back which I completely did not understand.  Luckily I could use the good old standby of “ja” and “nein.” Occasionally, I ja’ed when I should have nein’ed and vice versa.

(By the way, the airline was Lufthansa, which probably explains all the German and French--oh and the good food and friendly service. United and American, are you reading this? Please observe that those qualities are GOOD things. You may copy them accordingly.)

After the second movie, it was about 4 a.m. Being about time when I usually start sleeping anyway, I was finally able to rest for about an hour or so.

I awoke a while later to breakfast being served. Fortunately my neighbor stopped the food cart in time for me to get something to eat.

At that point I was finally able to chat with him. His name was Victor. He'd been speaking German to the flight attendants so I figured he was German, but no, he lived in France. Turns out he wasn't French either, he was Czech.  He spoke four languages at least and was a physics professor returning home from the San Francisco Bay Area.  We spoke about different things and he shared ideas and suggestions of places to visit. It was good conversation. He was excited about Obama and wondered what I thought of Schwarzenegger. That question came up a lot in Austria. For the record, people, I’ve never even met the guy. I’ve only seen his movies, including Commando, which only 18.6 other people have other seen (A tragedy considering it has so many cool one-liners).

Finally, we approached Munich. It was great to see the bird's eye view of this unbeknownst country to me. Patches of snow remained on the ground. Many patches of forest also stood out sharply. I gathered that things might be a little cold in Central Europe. Didn’t they know spring was coming in five days? Shouldn’t someone be removing all that leftover snow? And turn up the heat, darn it!

Landing well, we exited the plane. I only had carry-on luggage, so I did not have to wait for the baggage carousel or worry about anything being missing. I had a smug grin as I passed the folks waiting at the baggage carousel (though it was probably due to the jet-lag and coldness).

Munich

Munich is a big airport, but as we covered earlier, big airports are pretty much the same after while so I'll spare any description. Now came the tough part: where to go and how to get there.  Perhaps I forgot that airports and city centers aren't usually in the same place. (It's hard to fit a runway in the middle of town.)  Well, I was pretty clueless. I just looked for an exit.  There was no way I'd be taking a taxi, so I found the bus from the airline. Free? Nope. Nine euros and 50 eurocents. I could live with that. Oh yeah, I guess I’d need some European money for all this traveling. Back inside I went and looked for an ATM.  Found one! Back outside I went. The bus remained. I boarded.  Soon enough we were moving towards (at least I had hoped) the train station. I wasn’t positive. Finally, I just asked the driver and he confirmed it.  (When all else fails, ask questions.) 

In a seat near me I heard someone conversing on a cell phone about theater.  He sounded very into it, either producing or directing shows, so after he finished the conversation I struck up a conversation of my own with him.  We chatted about theater for a long time and it turns out he was from Oakland, California, but now acts and produces in Europe.  When he departed, I moved up to the front seat and waited several minutes until we reached the train station.

The station was cold as night was upon us. I got info about the train platform I needed and then went out to it.  There was a clock up on a pole and the time said 7:30.  What!?  I was expecting something closer to 10 p.m. The bus clock had been fast (like 2 hours fast! For the life of me, I am still perplexed on how a BUS clock can be two hours fast. It's a BUS! Don't people like have schedules to keep?!?).  I still had over three hours to kill.  What to do.  What to do.

There... a Starbucks.  Not exactly European, but it was warm and had seats and maybe even Internet access. Somehow, some guidebooks seem to think train stations themselves are places to stay warm. Have these writers actually ever been inside a train station? From my experiences in London, Paris, and Germany, I can vouch that no, they are not warm. They’re pretty much the same temperature as outside, which I believe is due to having massive openings where the trains come in and out. True, airports may be warm, but train stations, my friends, are simply not warm. I bought some coffee and found a seat.  An affectionate couple sat across from me.  They chatted wildly smooched frequently (get a room, kids!).  In time, they left and I moved into the prime spot.  Soon a young lady asked about the empty chair.  I said it was open and to sit.  After a short while, I asked if she spoke English (“Sprechen Sie Englisch”) “Not much,” she said but enough to chat a little it turns out.  Her name was Steph and she taught breakdancing in Munich (Germany likes hip hop and breakdancing. Who knew!?).  We had a fun conversation, teaching words to each other as best we could.  When she finally had to leave, another took her place. It was like grand central station! (Only it was Munich HBF, which is different, but probably just as cold.)

This was an older gentleman and I must admit I forgot his name only seconds after hearing it. (Sad, I know. Berate me later.)  We chatted about the German language, politics, and the American recession for well over an hour.  When he left, another sat in the seat.  I wasn't getting much writing done, but nearly wearing out my voice with so much talking.  (Perhaps I should do more listening for change.) This lady’s name was Antje and she was an actress returning from Italy.  Now we had much to talk about!  Topics ranged from more German language chatter to practicing accents from around the world. Her American Southern accent wasn't half bad either.  Soon she left as well. It was getting late.

Moments later, Starbucks was closing. I would have nowhere to go to stay warm (SINCE THE STATION ITSELF IS NOT WARM), but no matter; it was almost time to board. I waited a bit and finally saw my night train, just waiting for me. Finding the right car, I entered and chatted with the conductor.  Well, I tried. Turns out he spoke only German.  Uh-oh.  I hoped this would not be a problem since I found out that I needed to transfer trains at 5 a.m. I thought I would get to avoid that.

The Night Train

The sleeping car was small and cozy. Six beds were inside: three on the left and three on the right with an aisle in the middle. I had no issues with the tiny space, but I was surprised that adults could squeeze into such tiny berths.  However, most Europeans are pretty thin, so this isn’t much of a problem for them. Tall people, on the other hand, had some issues. Fortunately, I’m not tall or fat, so I fared just fine.

My next trek was to the restroom.  There were two compartments at the end of the car.  I tried both and they only had sinks inside.  I guess I could've made it work, but I wasn't that desperate and it certainly did not seem appropriate.  I looked farther down and found the bathroom.  I found it locked, so I waited. After waiting long, I knocked. No response. I tried it again. Locked. Hmm. Not good. I waited. Soon I wondered if maybe I was pulling on a door that needed pushing. Very well. I pushed. It opened.  (Lesson learned. Always try pushing AND pulling.)  Shortly after, I was back on my bunk.  All six berths were now full.  There was an older German couple, a Japanese traveler, and two Japanese students. Train sleeping is quite social.  After everyone got settled, we closed up the compartment, locked it, and killed the light.

Ah more rest.  This would be good.  Since I only had two hours on the flight, I was in dire need of sleep, but sleep would not come easily.  My body was not adjusting quickly to the time change, but heck I'm always needing naps from late nights.  Why should this be any different?

Now with six people, you're bound to get some snoring, and yes we did--sometimes two or three people at a time.  Still, it wasn't unbearable and I did have earplugs should it become necessary.

Sleep finally did come, albeit lightly. I was in and out of it a lot.  And I awoke every time we came to a stop. Once we stopped moving, I stopped sleeping. After one stop, the train never seemed to start up again.  I kept wondering if maybe we were indeed moving, but so smoothly that it could not be felt because the delay was about 25 minutes long. Turns out we had not been moving because we finally did start moving after a while.  I set my alarm for 4:45 a.m. since my transfer was at 5 a.m.  That turned out to be unnecessary since I woke up around 4:30.  At 4:50, I was dressed and ready to get off, but we didn't stop. Now, I knew for sure that that long pause earlier was unplanned.  I wondered if it meant I'd be missing my next train. But we never got to the next train. The conductor came along and said it would be another half hour.  Okay back to bed, or at least back to my bunk, for I wasn't able to sleep.  Outside, dawn was approaching. On the ground I could make out all the pretty snow.  Snow?  Snow?!?  Not snow!  Anything but snow!  Well not rain.  Better snow than rain. But snow meant cold. And cold meant…well, cold. Cold means cold! Darn it!

Soon the train slowed down.  The older gentleman who had also been in my compartment was out and about.  He looked at my ticket and offered some advice on where to depart.

Vienna

After exiting, I was lost as the where to go. I was in Vienna, but where? I had no map. I had no directions. I had nothing. Not an issue. It was all part of the game. Just another challenge. I asked about getting to town and a lady at a cafe said to take Train 4.  (I also bought a coffee) Train 4? Um. Okay. Back to the platform I went. I at least was able to find the street where my hotel was. I had that. Man, what was I thinking? I had nothing but the name of my hotel and street, for crying out loud. Yeah, "challenges"--i.e., stupidity.

When a train came, I bordered. I had no idea where it was headed, but anything was better than not moving. I talked to a guy on the train. He didn’t speak English, but I got the feeling it was the wrong train.

Too late. Door closed.

We were moving. New adventure. Yay! (trying to smile, but nothing happens).

I did have time to check the map and finally found my street. Hey! Right train after all. Wahoo! After some time at the info booth at the next station, I was on my way to Line 3. Exiting Line 3, it was 7a.m. and I knew I couldn't exactly check in that early at my hotel, but at least I could maybe leave my bags.

I had a problem of where to go once I went up to the street level. I just chanced it. I walked about ten blocks one way and then 10 blocks back. Then down another street. Aha! Found the right street. The snow was coming down harder now. Did I mention snow? Yeah, there was snow, lots of snow. I figured I’d need my gloves pretty fast since my hands were quite cold now. After strolling down the street, I reached my hotel. The reception desk was occupied. All was well. I couldn’t check in, but I could leave my bags and that was nice.

Before heading out, I looked for my gloves. No gloves. No gloves anywhere! Thought I had packed them, but pack them I did not. My hands were not pleased. Back into the snowstorm I went--sans gloves. I now had a plan--I now knew where to go. I even had a map with places marked out by Mark, the reception desk clerk. I bought a 24-hour metro pass and went back on Line 3. Quickly after, I was downtown--smack in the middle of the crazy snowstorm. It wasn’t easy, but I managed to snap photos here and there, trying to keep the frostbite in check.

Unfortunately, I lost my map (didn’t take long, I know), so I wandered to and fro and when the cold became too much to take, I ducked into a little cafe. The hostess spoke French and German, but since the theme of the cafe was French, I I chose to speak in French. (Okay, fine. I would have spoken in French either way.)

I had a cafe au lait and a croque monsieur. A nice older lady sat across from me and I spoke with her a little, but she left and I wrote some more. Another young lady sat down and I asked her about where to buy gloves. We chatted for a while until she left. A young man and woman took her place. I asked her about the book she had with her--it was something about learning English. That icebreaker led to some talk. She was Austrian. Her friend was British and turned out to be quite a talented painted. That conversation lasted a while and they left. Finally, I did too.

I then came to nice church were I took many photos. Inside was nice, but the up front areas were closed for mass only, which appeared to be all day long. Don’t faithful Catholics want to snap photos too? I got a little warm, and then left. I kept an eye out for gloves, but found none to buy. Then I made my way back to the hotel. Drat! Still could not check in. They recommended a nearby park to the south so I wandered south. It was a long walk (“nearby” to Austrians is not “near” or “by”). At one point, I looked down at the path I had been following. Turns out there were two lanes. One was marked by occasional icons of a “man walking” and the other lane was marked with a bicycle. The funny thing was that at one point, I looked down and the sides were reversed. The icons were on the opposite side as before. Odd. I checked it again later down the street and it was back to the first way. The people who had painted the sidewalk had made a somewhat funny mistake. I wondered how many other people noticed that. I wondered if tiny frequent bicycle/pedestrian accidents occurred right at the very spot, with police investigators scratching their heads and pondering, “Why? Why? Why?” or would they ponder, “Vy? Vy? Vy?”

(Side note: In all my time in Austria, I never met anyone with as thick an accent as the Terminator. Makes you wonder.)

As I reached the bottom of the hill, I noticed the weather getting a little better. I entered a huge courtyard, which seemed like a large university. My map said the zoo was nearby. (I got a new one from the hotel since I lost the other one. The first guy, Mark, was even there too when I got the map from the other clerk. I mean how stupid does that look? Oh, look--it's that guy that needs a new map every four hours!) Around the bend, I saw a huge structure up a large hill. Wanting to attain that view, I headed up. I paused at each level of the switchbacks and turned to take in the view. The large building at the bottom turned out to be a palace. Reaching the top, I took many nice photos and then explored the back woods. I then returned to the structure and sat on a bench and listened to some classical music. The sun was even breaking through in spots and this helped me get some even better photos. Then it was time to head down. The sky was getting cloudy again and I was really looking forward to getting warm.

Up ahead, the skies were now getting very dark—not a good sign. (Is it ever?) In short time, it was snowing, and snowing hard. The snow wasn't in large fluffy flakes like that morning. This snow was round, compact and coming down hard. My umbrella was my only real protection, and it did help, though my fingers froze. Mainly, I just wanted to stay dry. Wet shoes would just not do. I had no spare.

I reached my hotel again. I could then check in. That was a relief. The room was quite nice. It had a shower, which I promptly used. It even had a nice desk. Ah, excellent. I’d be able to get some writing done and do a little web work as well. The bed was pretty large for a single, but I supposed the room could have served two people just as well. Nevertheless, there was only one of me, so I could sprawl out accordingly.

On the wall, there was a large LCD television. I could watch a number of shows, and if I spoke German, I’d even be able to understand what was going on. But at the present time (4 p.m.), I was exhausted. I had slept maybe four hours in nearly two days. It was time to rest.

At 10 p.m., I awoke. I felt much better, though still a little sleepy. But stuff needed doing. I set up my computer at the desk…er, no...the Ethernet outlet was next to the bed. So there was a nice desk, but my cord was way to short to reach it. I got to make the bed my office.

But first things first: it was laundry time. I had my mini bottle of detergent and with the help of a wet sock, I turned the sink into my own little washing machine. Worked rather well. I washed everything I had worn so far, including my jeans. Then I set to drying them. Hmmm. This would be a little more challenging.

I couldn’t use the blow dryer since that would be a complete waste of energy. I either put clothes on the radiator or hung them up to dry.

Mainly, I did a lot of writing, working, and video editing. I uploaded videos and blogged about the trip. But somehow the time flew. Before I knew it, it was 7 a.m. and time for breakfast. I had passed the whole night!

Breakfast was tasty. Aside from the hostels, I ate rather well in during my lodging nights. There was plenty of variety, so I had some cereal, fruit, an egg, bread with jam and butter, coffee, and juice. I wouldn’t be hungry for at least a few hours.

Back in the room, I did a little more work and prepared to check out. First, I took a little side trip to look for gloves. Finally, I found a shop which sold them. Well, they sold white gloves. Not exactly my first choice, but my hands were freezing. Okay, they weren’t exactly white, but more like beige. Still I was wearing all black with bright gloves. I looked like a friggin’ Mickey Mouse. It wouldn’t do. No, it just wouldn't do!

Returning, I checked the jeans. They were about dry, but it took over 12 hours for that to happen, and that was with keeping them on the radiator all night. Jeans dry slowly. Remember that. Jeans…dry…slowly. Got it? Pop quiz...how do jeans dry? Did you say slowly? Good, you're now qualified to head to Europe. Bon voyage!

I checked out and paid my 53 euros. Not a bad price all things considered. Plus, they had waived the internet fees. Even better! I gave them a great recommendation online. If you’re ever in Vienna, check out Hotel Lucia. They were nice enough to hold my bags while I explored the city more.

I walked into the main city and looked around. On the way I found another store which sold black gloves. Yay! I bought a pair (wasteful, I know, but I really did look funny in white). I also got me one of those blue collar dock-worker caps. That helped a lot too, though I didn’t see many other Europeans wearing them. I guess they have a much higher tolerance for the cold. Many people weren’t even wearing gloves! Crazy, I know.

I spotted a cozy café and went inside, mainly lured by a caramel torte I saw in the window. Inside was nice, but more importantly—warm. I ordered a coffee and the torte. In time, more people entered and it turned out to be a smoking tolerant café. This wasn’t a huge issue, but after a while, three people were smoking and I didn’t really want to smell like cigarette smoke for the next few days so I started to leave. Before doing so, I noticed someone with an iPhone, so I chatted with him about that a spell. Turns out they have many more options for iPhone carriers in Europe and their two-year plan signup gives you the phone for almost nothing.

The streets were still cold as before. To escape the weather, I found a large museum and entered. It was mainly a portrait gallery with numerous works spanning hundreds of years. The top floor had a huge gold coin from Canada that was supposedly worth millions. I made a note to look that up. (Okay, I did. The value is a few million in gold, even though it’s a one-million-dollar coin. It’s about the size of a large pizza and pretty impressive.)

Another nice thing about the museum was a long, long radiator on the top floor. I made use of that for a spell, but overall, I was getting very sleepy. I had been up since 11 p.m. the night before and it was getting close to 6 p.m. I found a nice chair in front of some large paintings and put on my headphones and shut my eyes. I was nodding off fast, but not for long. They were closing up at 6 p.m. and kicking people out. Argh! Back into the frosty cold air I went.

I walked around some more and then reached the metro station. There was still a lot of time before my train so I visited a large Ferris wheel in the city. I’d like to report that it was great, but it was rather weak. The location was in a tiny amusement park area and it was almost deserted, sort of like a bad horror movie. I had the full cabin to myself. The light was also always on, so night photos were problematic, not that there were any great views. It was interesting, but moreover, quite wasteful. I don’t recommend it, at least not at night. You’re better off filming the horror movie.

Afterwards, I journeyed back to the hotel and picked up my bags. I’d have to get used to the weight again. I’d had a nice break from carrying it all around with me. (Going on a trip? Follow the guidebook advice. Pack your backpack and carry it around for a day. The weight becoming a problem? Lighten it up before leaving the country.) Back to the train station I went. I now knew the city fairly well and had no trouble getting around. Shame to leave just when I had it all figured out. But a good reason to return someday.

At the train station, I found my night train to Krakow. I had a 3-person car, but the other seats were never occupied. That was nice. My own private car for no extra charge! I was ready to party! So I instantly went to sleep.

From 10:30 p.m. to 6 a.m., I slept on the train and got some much needed rest after being up nearly 24 hours. In the morning, I noticed a lot of snow. Yeah, I was in another cold country (in regards to the weather).

Krakow, Poland

I got help at the info booth and purchased my tickets to Prague the next night. I also picked up my tickets to Auschwitz and the Salt Mine. Everything was planned. They gave me a map and I headed into old Krakow. The city center was tough to find as the lady had the map turned sideways when explaining it to me. Now why would you do that? My bearing was all off, but I finally figured it all out. It would have been easier in warmer weather. Everything is simply tougher in the cold. I don’t know how Alaskans can do it all (or penguins for that matter). (I know, I know. Be nice to the penguins.)

There were many photo ops in the city. The sun was coming up, but clouds prevented any great lighting. I took what was offered. Mostly the streets were quiet and still in the early morning. The buildings and sculptures were pretty amazing though.

The hostel wasn’t too hard to find. I left my bags and headed back out, not sure where exactly to go. In time, I found the castle after a long, long walk to I don’t know where. The castle was nice, with a cool tower to ascend. I didn’t see all of it since the admissions were a bit crazy. Each little area had its own entry fees and such.

After the castle, I checked out the Jewish Quarter, but it was rather uneventful. In time, I returned to the hostel. I had a shower, but the hot water must have been out because it was very cold. Oddly though, the sink had warm water when I shaved. Strange. I stayed in the common room for a while, chatted with some people, and got a few things done. Soon, I was off to bed.

I slept well, but there was a bit of snoring. There were four other people in the room, all Frenchmen on holiday. I arose early and had breakfast at the hostel. It wasn’t bad, though not terribly great either. In the common area, I spoke with Mary and “Florchin.” They were from Florida and Singapore respectively and studying in Geneva. They were also going on the Auschwitz tour, but at an earlier time.

My tour guide came at 8:30am to pick me up. That’s a nice feature, when they come to your hotel or hostel to pick you up. The guide was Jude and she escorted me to where the bus would come. Minutes later, it arrived and I boarded. It was about an hour and a half away as we drove through the countryside. On board, I chatted with Mike, who had come with his daughter from Liverpool.

Auschwitz

We finally made it to the first camp: Auschwitz I. This camp was well, a concentration camp. My writings on it will be in a separate article. Suffice to say, it was the sole reason I came to Poland. Depressing as it is, it’s a place that must be remembered.

Then came the long drive home. Returning to the hostel, I attempted to use the internet but the WIFI was down. That wasn’t good, but there wasn’t much I could do. In the hostel kitchen, a French trio was making crepes. They had been making a huge meal the night before. Apparently, they were on vacation to cook. Amazing thing is how much they made (and ate). This group was still thin, though they seemed to eat tons. Bless them all.

The Salt Mine

I waited a while, and then my second tour guide came. It was Jude again. The tour bus had a new driver. Outside, the weather was quite cold now. (The entire trip was varying levels of cold between "Argh. My ears are killing me!" to "Um. Could someone please shoot me now?") We drove for about an hour and reached the salt mine. From the outside, it just looked like another part of town. Inside we got our tickets and the Salt Mine guide took over. For these tours, the buses and agency just bring you to the locations and take care of the tickets. Then you have the site guides handle the tours. I suppose it might be cheaper to find your own way there, but there’s something to be said for not having to handle the transportation or anything else. Sometimes, it’s the best way to go. They do everything but hold your hand—and even then, I never actually asked.

Soon, we were descending flights of stairs—many flights of stairs. We had a funny tour guide and she enjoyed asking questions of the group. Being a teacher who likes questions answered, I tried to answer or guess at some of them, and frequently got the answers right.

The mines were amazing with huge sculptures carved out of salt. Truth is, I had no idea salt was even mined. How about that? All these years, and something like this was completely new to me. But apparently, it was a very lucrative industry and had been for hundreds of years.

There were many great things to see, but the light was also very dark. Not many photos turned out well. All I’ll mainly have are my memories—misty, salt-water colored memories. (AH HA! HA! HA! I try never to laugh at my own jokes--especially the puns--but come on! That one is priceless! Admit it!!!)

Another odd bonus was WIFI. Hundreds of feet underground, I decided to try my iPhone just to see. I figured if they did route the internet down there, they may not have it secured (I mean who would be tapping into it that far underground?) And voila! I had access. I downloaded my mail and smiled a bit, somewhat shocked and very pleased.

In time, the tour finished, after passing, not one, but two stores to buy stuff. I bought nothing but some Mentos (Europe has all sorts of neat flavors of Mentos). We took a lift back up to save some serious time. Before leaving, I told the guide her tour was sort of the anti-Charlie and the Chocolate Factory tour (You know, because everything was salty instead of being sweet). She laughed as if she got the allusion, but I’ll never know for sure.

Outside, the rain came down and we boarded the bus back home. It was a filled day.

The driver took us to our spots and dropped us off. He took the same tiny little streets that the first driver took and once again, missed hitting things by inches. I’m always amazed at how many things we don’t hit when riding in buses over there. European bus drivers are awesome. (At driving buses at least. Perhaps they still suck at chess. I don’t know.)

I had a little time before the next train, so I sought out to enjoy one nice dinner for a good price. The restaurant recommended by my hostel clerk could not be found, so I popped into a nice place I saw. Well, I went into the doorway to examine the menu and a pretty waitress saw me and invited me in. I asked if it was “Polish” food, but she responded by saying it was more of Arabic food. Wanting only Polish, I moved onward. Not finding any other nice places, I eventually just headed back. She was nice, and nice goes a long way. I would try her place, Polish or not.

Inside, I hung up my coat and gloves. They had a nice warm fire going, but an older couple was at the seat adjacent to it. I warmed myself at the fire, but then found my own place. The menu had many wonderful things to choose from at great prices. I selected some chicken and stuff, or stuffed chicken—I simply can’t remember the names, but the food was great. It was a relaxing dinner. I did a little writing and enjoyed a tall beer. Afterwards, she suggested dessert. I wasn’t too hungry, but the raspberry tiramisu looked great, so I indulged. It was great. I had had my first large enjoyable meal in a long time and felt like it gave me some newfound strength to travel on, which was pleasant.

Note: another reason to head "east" is the prices. The dollar goes far in Poland the the like. Perhaps it's out of some people's comfort zones to head to those former U.S.S.R. countries, but sometimes those places are the best memories. My money went far and the people were very nice.

I then went back to the hostel, grabbed my bags and headed to the train station. Soon I was on a night train heading for Prague. I kept humming that old 80's song, Back on the Train.

(Days later, I started questioning if my lyrics were correct. Maybe it was “back on the chain gang” or something like that. But you know the song? It starts out: “I saw a picture of you…ohhhooohhhooh…those were the happiest days of my life.” Point is, you think a lot about stuff like that when you’re spending many hours on a train and your iPhone has no cellular access, but only functions as an expensive iPod, but you knew that when you bought it. However, you had no idea the GPS wouldn’t work, but then, after a lot of thought, you realized it made sense since a connection would be needed to download the maps from the network, so yeah....Back on the train-gang. Ohhhhooooohhhhoooh).

Prague

In the morning, I had arrived. I went to the ticket counter to buy tickets for the night train. But they didn't have any spaces open, so I bought tickets for the next morning. That would mean wasting a day on train travel, but I didn't seem to have much choice. I wasn't thrilled about it, but left the station and started heading into the city. Then I stopped...I just thought about it.  It just didn't seem like the right decision. There had to be another way.  (“There’s gotta be a better way!” [Friends. Joey's milk commercial]) I went back into the station and back to the ticket booth. I would find a way, even if it meant heading to a different city. I didn't want to spend the day on a train and a night in Prague.

Well things turned out well, the lady was very nice, and we found night train tickets for a train leaving at 6:30 p.m.  Instead of 11:30.  That was fine. I paid a little more for the tickets and left.

I had no map of Prague. That wasn't good. (Sense a pattern here?) It was difficult to figure out where I was going and I simply couldn’t find a place to acquire a map. But I just chanced it and explored. In time, I finally reached the St. Charles Bridge. This was one place that was highly recommended. Oh, wait...half the bridge had scaffolding.  Were they not told I was coming? Did they know I was taking photos?!? How was I supposed to photograph half a bridge down the middle?!? This ruined any good pictures on the bridge, but I did see a neat castle on the hillside. Ooh! More photos. (I get excited easily) That was where I would need to go next.  I walked a long ways, but without a map, it was hard to find my way to the castle.  I finally reached something that looked sort of like a castle, but it was a monastery and it was not the same and it was raining and I was tired.  The rain would not leave me alone. Was there just one big huge cloud over Europe with my name on it? It said, "Hi, James! Let's hang out some more!" I could only shake my head and grumble about it being such a pesky cloud.

But I got lucky and eventually did reach the castle. It was quite crowded, even for the winter time.  There was also a very long line outside the cathedral, so I departed south. I found a nice place to get some shots of the city.  I also checked the guidebook and it really recommended seeing that cathedral, saying it was the only thing worthwhile at the castle.  Fine!  I would return. I went back north to buy tickets, but it turns out tickets weren't required. I did see they sold photo passes though. The lady said photo passes weren’t necessary at the cathedral, but seeing as the line was so long, I just didn’t want to chance it. She almost protested as I insisted on wasting money for that pass ($2.50).

The cathedral was indeed free, hence the long line. I asked a worker how long the line took and he said 15 minutes.  That didn't seem right.  Only 15 minutes?  But the line was so, so long. Still, what choice did I have?

I entered the line and 15 minutes later I was entering the cathedral.  Turns out he was right. It’s like the workers are psychic or something.  Go figure. Inside was nice. I got many good shots (no photo pass required), but my batteries were wearing down fast.  I had three batteries, but when you don't have enough rest breaks, there isn't time to recharge. After leaving the cathedral, I left the castle.  There didn't seem like anything else worthwhile to see there. I reached the bottom of the hill and found a metro station.  Surely, they would have a map of the city or least of the train system.  They did! Oh they had many maps, but none in English. My feet were starting to hurt walking so much, but since I didn't have a spare set, I carried on. At another metro station, I finally found a map that helped. At least I now knew where the train station was since I had a 6:30 train to catch. But for now, I found the old square.  This would give me some good photos. I hoped. I found a nice place serving hot dogs. There was also a nice sit-down place with warm heaters selling the same hot dog; however, it was 5 times more expensive. No exaggeration—it really was. I opted to stand. Two dollars and fifty cents beat spending $12 on the same hot dog. Later I found another church, and went inside. It had a beautiful chandelier, which I took many shots of. I even made a donation. I like places like that!

Later I found a tall tower, which again offered me some good shots, but each photo was one shot closer to me having no battery life. Heading back down, I found a nice little pub. I wanted to have a tall beer, a tall Czech beer. This pub was located underground and had many dead animal heads decorating the walls. Of course, this is done in America too, but it always strikes me as little funny, putting dead animal heads on walls. I guess it's just something you have to get used to. Contrasting this old custom was a plasma television on another wall showing a tennis match. I relaxed a little, enjoyed my beer, and then headed out.  What I wanted was an Internet café.  I was told there was one in the area, but I couldn't find one. All I found was more rain. Or rather, it found me.

At the train station, I located my train.  It had a different number, but the platform was correct and the time was the same, so I boarded, having only five minutes to spare.  This time I had my own private compartment, for the time being at least. A few stops later, someone else boarded. He was from Kazakhstan and spoke no English and selected for the same car. Drat. Lost my privacy. It wasn't a huge deal, but the guy did snore rather loudly. I guess I was spoiled having my own car the night before. I charged my batteries a little bit, but didn't set enough alarms to charge each one. You see to charge them all, I would have to set an alarm every few hours and wake up and switch batteries. It wasn't preferred, but it could be done. Sometimes I took that approach; other times I just slept.

Baden-Baden

After a morning change of trains in Carlsberg, I finally reached Baden-Baden, my long-awaited destination. I was rather hungry that morning, so I stopped at the café and had a crème brûlée pastry with a cappuccino. I spent some time there at the café and then found the bus (Line 201) into town. Reaching the city center, I exited the bus and begin exploring. In time, I finally reached the baths. I had a little time to kill before they opened at nine o'clock, but I was anxious. At 9 a.m., I went inside and bought my ticket.

The clothing for the baths is simple—naked. If you can't get over this custom, you simply don't go inside. I knew what to expect. Still yeah, I suppose it's a little awkward, but people just keep their eyes to themselves.

The spa is very clean. The first thing you do is take a hot shower. The nice thing is the showerhead is about 12 inches in diameter. It's like standing in a thunderstorm of hot pouring rain. The feeling is unbelievable. From there, you enter a dry sauna that isn't too hot. After a while there, you enter a really hot sauna. It's like tanning in 115° weather. Afterwards, they have a wet sauna, and after that is super hot wet sauna, where if you stand up on the highest step, you can't even breathe through your nose. These saunas were mostly empty. Apparently, not a lot of people go there at nine in the morning on a weekday, or was it Saturday? It's funny, but for my two weeks in Europe, I rarely knew what day of the week it was. That's the way to travel. I did usually know the time though. When you're in a new country every so many hours, you learn to keep track of the time.

One thing did happen in the hot sauna. I noticed someone splashing some liquid from a large bowl up high. When he left, I decided to step up there and examine the liquid. It looked like soap. I rubbed a bit of it on my arm. It even felt like soap. But a few minutes later, my whole arm was burning. (Hmm...I don't think it was soap.) It might have even been chlorine or something. I don't know, but it stung. Fortunately, there was a shower nearby. In fact, each room in this place had a shower. You showered before and after each room, I think. I wasn't sure of the protocol, but my arm was burning. The water was free so I indulged frequently. Heck, it rained so much in Europe, I would not be surprised if it was a crime not to use a lot of water. After showering, the burning died down and finally went away. Lesson learned. Don't try that at home, or at Baden-Baden. Strange liquids are not to be rubbed on one’s arm. I can laugh about it now. But what was I thinking? Heh. No, seriously, it was pretty naive. But still...heh.

After the saunas, there were warm spas. None were boiling hot, but only warm. I spent some time in there and then headed for the next section. Here they had a cold pool which was supposed to be entered for only a minute.  And I soon found out why--it was freezing cold! (If you do swear, please substitute "freezing" for whatever suits you best) But I wasn't going to chicken out now. I immersed myself quickly, and exited even faster. Next they had warm towels. That was nice, but I noticed all the spa sections were done. I still had an hour and a half left. I wasn't going to leave that early. I asked if was okay to start over, and I was told it was, so I went all the way back to Section 1 and spent more time in the spas and saunas. The second time around, I skipped the cold pool. (I was not going to have my last memory be a freezing one.) [Misty ice-water colored memories? No, scratch that. Even I won't make jokes that lame.] In the final area, they wrap you up in blankets and let you rest in a quiet room. It's rather nice and makes you very drowsy, but I couldn't let myself fall asleep because I was already close to the time limit.

When the time came, I got dressed in the locker room and exited. It was a good experience. It was why I went to Baden-Baden.

After the baths, I explored more of the city. The north part of town had a large hill extending back into some woods, so I climbed it and found some large grassy paths to travel down.  I also discovered an old large manor, which looked deserted. Heavy iron gates kept people out and it definitely reminded me of some 19th-century gothic novel setting, complete with heavy vines and ivy climbing up the gates and walls.

I also received a short pardon with the clouds. It wasn't much, but it definitely changed the lighting in my pictures. Shortly after, the sun was gone again. The reprieve was short-lived. My friendly rain/sleet/snow cloud was back to play with me more.

Traveling back down into town, I found some quaint streets to explore. I also headed south and got some great shots near the casino. The town seemed like a wonderful place to be in the summer, where you could enjoy the warm evenings and stroll around the gardens or the many bridges over the small stream. It's a romantic town, to say the least.

After time, I headed back into the city center for one last beer. I also noticed that I had lost my attachment to my tripod. That was unfortunate, but there was nothing I could do. I would now be holding my video camera by hand or balancing it precariously on ledges. The weather was crazy. It was quiet and still one moment, and then pouring down hail the next. Yeah, go in the summertime. You'll be glad you did. There’s nothing romantic about cold, hard hail. Try it in the winter and your relationship will end faster than a Seinfeld spinoff.

Finally, I grabbed Bus 201 and returned to the train station. From there, I took the evening train to Geneva.

Geneva

Ah, Geneva. I wanted to like you. I really did. I wish I had better things to say about the city, but there are few. I arrived in Geneva around midnight. I had no reservation, and no clear idea where to go. I'm not sure what I was thinking when I planned that part of the trip. I also was unaware that it was an extremely expensive city, and probably not a good place to need a last-minute reservation.

From the train station, I headed north. I had noticed a sign about a youth hostel, so I figured that was where I needed to be. It took me a while, but I finally found some other travelers and they pointed me in the right direction. I was in luck. They had openings. There was a 10-person room, which currently had only two other people in it. In fact, they were two other Americans. It worked out rather well. Plus, the cost was only about $20. Considering some of the other hotels were said to be anywhere from $200-$400, this was not a bad deal at all.

The room was nothing but bunk beds, but that was all I needed. I spoke with the other travelers for a while. They were seeing about 21 countries in three months.  Pretty amazing. I charged up my batteries and went to bed.

I missed out on the hostel breakfast, electing to get a little more rest. Afterwards, I checked out, and headed to explore Geneva. The bus brought me into the old part of the city--well, it doesn't really seem to have an old part, but I did explore the heart of Geneva. The first thing I found out was that yes, it really is expensive. Everything is just excessively expensive. I ate light. There just didn't seem like a lot to see. I did find a church to explore with a cool tower, but that was about it. Granted, I didn't give it a lot of time and hadn’t researched the city very well, but other cities worked rather well and I had approached them the same way. They had me at "hello"; Geneva didn’t even have me at good-bye.

I must strongly note that the people were all very nice. I didn't dislike the people; I just hated the high prices and the lack of anything photographic. But again, like almost all of Europe, I found the people to be very friendly and helpful (when asked). If someone tends to find Europeans rude everywhere he goes, I often surmise that the problem might not be with the Europeans...

Being rather bored with things, I headed to the train station early and took the train to Fribourg.

Fribourg

Since I had taken an early train, I had to wait about an hour and a half for my friend Bill Duba to arrive. I had no way of getting a hold of him, so I just hung out at the train station and killed time. At 6 p.m., he showed up, and we headed back to his place. It wasn't a far walk. Once there, I met his girlfriend Trine, who was very nice. I got settled in, and then we all went out for dinner.

The dinner was great. It was fondue, which I don't think I'd ever really tried it before. I was also told that we'd have to have white wine instead of red, due to superstitions and perhaps taste. No problem. I could learn to appreciate white wine. It was about time for that. Everything was really tasty, and I was almost disappointed that my stomach wasn’t large enough to enjoy more since I became full rather fast. (Thanks again for the dinner, Bill and Trine, that was definitely a highlight on my trip.)

After dinner, we toured the town a little. It’s a nice town with many hills. But then it was back to the apartment for some much-needed rest.

The next day I awoke early and had a hot shower. Breakfast consisted of coffee, juice, and toast.

Afterwards, we walked to the train station where I bought my tickets to Fussen. Then we traveled around the town for several hours. Once that was done, we picked up some food for lunch. Back at the apartment, I used the internet to make my room reservation for Fussen. Immediately after that, I told Bill and Trine that it was set, but they let me know it was made for the wrong night. Oops. I mistakenly made it for the next night when I needed a room the same night. I was going to try and call the hotel, but it turns out that with Booking.com, you can cancel completely if you do it early enough. I canceled and made the reservation at another hotel, which turned out to be cheaper anyway.

Our lunch was great and consisted of a baguette, cheese, meal, veggies, and more coffee. But time was running out. I did some last minute internet work and then logged off. We headed to the train station. I said goodbye to Bill and went to the platform. Fribourg had been a great relaxing place to recharge. The two of them were beyond kind and I was very grateful for their hospitality. That stop made Switzerland worthwhile.

When the train reached Bern, I exited and walked around the city. I had some extra time, so I snapped some photos. It looked like a fun city to explore, but an hour later, I was back on the train (chain gang?).

Füssen

After seven hours of trains, I had arrived. I was a little late, but got off the train and started looking for my street. The first thing I noticed after getting off the train was a lack of covering. We stepped right out into the drizzling rain. Ah, this town was indeed small. Snow was everywhere, like it was still the middle of winter. Europe had apparently not gotten the message that spring had arrived. Spotting a large map, I went over and took a photo of it to help me find my way (it was a trick I had only recently thought of). I had only the notion that my street was southwest of the train station, but had forgotten that the little online street maps are not to scale. The distance was much more than I had anticipated. It always is.

All around, the town seemed fast asleep. The only signs of life I observed were the taxis waiting for passengers, and a few scattered people here and there who didn’t seem as lost as me.  Certainly the taxis looked beckoning.  I mean, for just a few short euros, I could be at my place in probably five minutes. I just don't like taxis. I just don't like not knowing the exact amount ahead of time and not knowing how much to tip—and knowing that I had the capability and fortitude to reach any place on my own. I just couldn't see myself getting into a taxi and finding out the destination was 100 yards down the road. Thus, I began wondering and wandering. 

My compass was in my other jeans at the bottom of my bag, so I didn't have access to it. No matter.  I could get my directional bearing from lining up the train station with the post office, and then heading south. But south didn't seem right.  I wasn't finding my street.  I wasn't finding anything familiar, but then again, what could be familiar 8,000 miles from home.  I headed north again to the center of town, and down the street was a bank.  With the outside doors locked, I couldn't reach the automatic teller. I tried my bank card in the door and it worked.  The door opened and I went inside and withdrew about €150. Then I checked the map of the train station again and headed south once more. This time I ventured farther. The street lamps were sparser now, and I seemed to be heading almost out of the city, yet as the road continued, as did I.  I reached some small tall hills and continued even farther. Soon I found myself in the southern part of town, which seemed almost entirely disconnected from the northern part. But I was fairly confident this was where I needed to be. I was now hoping to find my hotel quickly since the rain was still coming down and I was ever so cold.  It was hard holding my camera, and my video recorder, and my umbrella all at the same time, while wearing gloves. In time, I finally found a name of the street next to mine. I followed it, but it seemed to head in a circle and I was not making much progress.  Finally I decided to walk back down the road and check the opposite or what seemed to be the opposite direction. Eureka!  I had found my street.  I follow it a little farther and reached my hotel. 

It was completely dark.  Not one light was on.  I went up to the porch and rang the buzzer.  No response. But I gave it some time and finally, someone started walking up the stairs.  Excellent!  I would have a place to stay—always a good feeling.  The man was a nice German gentleman and he opened the door, informing me that my key and a note were in an envelope outside the door.  (I hadn't noticed that before.) He showed me to my room and bid me goodnight.

My room was clean and nice and reminded me of a small cabin.  There was a little TV, a comfy bed, a small bathroom and shower, and a tiny desk. But mainly what I wanted was a WiFi connection.  It was too late to ask about it and I had no idea even how to use the phone.  Finally, I found the room welcome manual.  I flipped through it and eventually found the information on connecting to the WiFi network.  After a few attempts, I was in. I had Internet!  Ah, good old Internet. I also begin charging my computer and camera batteries.  Ah, good old power. 

It was only about 11 p.m., so I decided to watch a little bit of 24.  I didn't get very far before I felt extremely sleepy and went to bed. 

At 8 a.m., I woke up. I was now completely out of food, so I would have to make sure I didn't miss any free breakfasts.  I went downstairs and found plenty of food waiting for me.  I had cereal, an egg, juice, cheese, bread, and coffee. Coffee at the hotels is nice.  You can enjoy as much you want.  Afterwards, I returned upstairs to shower and shave.  And I reorganized my bags.  The weight was lighter now, for I had eaten most of my candy. I used the Internet a little more, but eventually the phone rang.  Odd.  Who knew to call me there? I wasn't expecting any calls, and obviously had already woken up. It was the hotel hostess asking when I would be checking out.  I said in about 10 minutes for it was 10 minutes to 10 a.m.  Soon I headed downstairs, paid my fee and left. The fee, by the way, was really nice. I think it was about €33.  Not bad for a hotel and full breakfast. When in Fussen, stay at the Hotel Jakob.

I then journeyed down to the train station. (In the daylight, it was much easier to navigate my way through town.)  I usually only get lost once per city (usually).  I found the bus station and waited for the bus.  Once it came, I boarded, paid a small fee, and waited. This bus had one main job—to take people to the castles. There was only one other person on the bus, and we left shortly after.  It was a short ride, but an exciting one.  I was finally making my way to Castle Neuschwanstein.  Even the other passenger eventually got off, so it was just me. The bus was taking me personally to the castle. I waved at the peasants.

Neuschwanstein

The first view of the castle was amazing.  I looked up and saw it standing grandly, jutting out atop the tall cliffs, with the towers pointing towards the heavens.  It reminded me of my first viewing of the Eiffel Tower in Paris—such a great feeling.  The bus driver told me where to buy tickets and I exited the bus.  I walked up the hill, observing all the neat things in the little village. There were hotels there too, but of course these probably charged more and were nowhere near the train station. The castles are close to Fussen, yet it's still about five miles away. I reached the ticket station and found almost no line.  There was an option to buy tickets for both castles, but due to time limitations, I only wanted the “Disney” castle.  The other one could wait for some other time.  And despite it being more authentic and historic than Neuschwanstein, it just wasn't the castle I had come to see. With my ticket in hand, I began walking up the long path to reach the castle.  It's uphill but not terribly steep and I found it to be good exercise. People did have the option of hiring a horse and carriage for the long way, but that seemed totally unnecessary. I wanted the freedom to walk around.

Eventually, I reached the castle. It looked enormous standing right below it.  Despite it being the off-season, there was still somewhat of a crowd; however, the ticket system is pretty orderly and everyone has a ticket number, like when ordering a bagel—only the numbers are for groups of people at a certain time for a tour in a certain language.  I had about an hour to kill.  I decided to walk around, but there wasn't really anywhere to go. To the right of the castle, a small path led away, but it was blocked off with a sign saying the road was closed.  Oh no! Was THAT the path to the bridge where I would need to go take my great picture?  I was not pleased. I waited around and did some writing, and again noticed how everyone seemed to smoke in Europe. It's pretty unbelievable. They all look very healthy, but so many lungs are being destroyed quickly—and at young ages too.

Finally, my number came up (meant in a good way), and I passed through the turnstile. Our tour group had about 20 people.  We went inside the castle and went forward until a closed gate stopped us.  It definitely felt like another Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory experience.  A guide finally came and unlocked the doors.  We then began our tour.  It was a quick tour, but an amazing one. The artwork inside is outstanding.  The paintings are incredible and the carvings are downright awesome. Even the mosaic tiles were fascinating. Sure, Mad King Ludwig may have been insane, but he definitely had a spectacular castle.  However, because the castle wasn't finished, the tour wasn't long. After about 20 minutes, we were done.  Another sad part was that no photography was allowed inside the castle--I guess they couldn't have us competing with their own photographers and selling nice photos. Someone also pointed out that perhaps allowing pictures would have slowed down tours.  I suppose that's a valid point too. Either way, I would've loved to have taken pictures. Once the tour was over, they led us to the gift shops.  There must've been two or three of them selling numerous oddities and souvenirs. There was nothing I really wanted to buy, although some of the swans looked pretty neat. I did manage to get some great views from the castle. There was no rule about taking photos of the views outward.  That was a nice bonus--or substitution, I should say. Finally I exited.

Outside I noticed the most peculiar thing.  There were people who had gone past the barricades and were traveling down the path to the bridge! Normally, I'm not someone who likes to break the rules, but then again, I had traveled a long ways to take a photo of the castle from the bridge. Sure, it was a weak excuse, but hey, “everyone was doing it.” I could break the rules just this one time. I hopped over the barricade and headed down the path. Ah, the adventurous life of a criminal! I was a rebel (but with a good cause).

I traveled quickly, worried that I was going to be called back any time. But no one ever did call us. Fifteen minutes later, I found the bridge.  There were several other people exploring it the same way. The wind up there was cold and rapid, almost attempting to blow us off the bridge. And when you looked down, you saw a vast drop into a tremendous gorge with waterfalls cascading down on several levels. I also noticed a lot of ice on the ground.  Yeah, I could see how that path could become quite dangerous in the winter and why they would want to close it off.  Yet it was an amazing sight. More amazing was the view of the castle.  I snapped several photos and got some video as well.  It was only towards the end of my video shooting that I noticed something-- something was not right.  I looked carefully...there was scaffolding all over the back of the castle.  It was being painted or was under renovation.  Either way, my photos would not be sellable. You're killing me, people! Oh well. There was nothing I could do about it. I would simply have to come back another time, perhaps even in the summer. Heck, I don’t even need another tour of the inside of the castle, so I could avoid all the long lines. I returned down the path, snapping photos everywhere I could.

I then bought a pretzel at the refreshment stand outside the castle.  The price was good. I think it was about a couple euros for a large pretzel. All prices now seemed good since I had been to Geneva.  Even though euros are more expensive than dollars, everything just seems cheap when compared to Switzerland. If you must travel to Geneva, go there first. Heck, they could have charged me $40 for a coke, and I'd probably happily pay it, thinking, "I bet it's still cheaper than Geneva!"

I headed back down the hill and again noticed all the horse and carriages coming up.  It would be easy to say that all people were simply lazy, but it also would not be fair. Some people do have disabilities. Some are handicapped and have problems walking up long hills. I imagine those people were also in the carriages, or perhaps people had small children that would have trouble along the way. 

Of course, there are lazy people as well, who simply don't want to walk and take in the view.  I'm not saying they don't exist.  In fact, they're probably the majority. As well, there can be something nice and cozy about a horse and carriage ride as well.  To each his own, I suppose. I guess it's easy to make rash judgements sometimes. The bottom line is that I enjoyed the crisp walk.

Back at the bottom of the village, I took more photos, and then went to wait for the bus. In time, it came and I returned to Fussen.  I got my luggage from the train station locker and waited for a train.  My next stop would be Rothenberg. When the train arrived, I bid goodbye to the castle town and journeyed north.

Rothenberg

Again, my train travel was in the evening. I prefer the night trains since I arrive in the morning, but this distance wasn't long enough to span the entire night. Thus I would be arriving around 10 p.m. I had a few transfers along the way.  And while they were tight, I made each one of them. Upon reaching Rothenberg, I exited the train and began looking for my hotel. Once again, it was an adventure. I had a photo of the map on my camera, but apparently it wasn't good enough.  I also had my compass available this time, so I headed north.

After about 15 minutes of walking north, I realized I wasn't reaching the city center. I then headed west. After some time, I spotted the heart of the city and headed south. I entered through the big stone archway and gate into the city. It was rather neat at night, but still, I was freezing and needed to find my hotel. I kept traveling through the city, and eventually reached the south part of the city. I then exited the city. Argh! Getting lost was becoming a little frustrating, but I was fairly used to it. I then headed east, followed by heading north. Finally, I headed west and entered the city to the east gate. This was getting quite monotonous. Luckily, I did manage to finally find my street, but even that was tough because the street names were all done in an old script font for effect--the effect being that it made it harder to find hotels at night. Reaching the hotel, I rang the buzzer. A lady answered and said her husband would be driving over to let me in. Odd, but okay. Minutes later he arrived and showed me to my room. I asked about Internet access, but he said it was too late for that. I didn't even bother asking about food, though I was starving at that point. I'd eaten breakfast that morning in Fussen and had a pretzel in the afternoon, but that was mainly about it. Since I had been on trains for five hours, there wasn't a place to eat then. And now I was in my hotel room, famished. No matter. I would survive.  I drank some water and begin charging my batteries. This room was the smallest yet. There was no TV or phone. It was just plain tiny. It was also cold. I turned up the radiator to 5, hoping for a little more heat, but that wasn't working too well. I just went to bed.

The next day, I arose around 7 a.m. to get a nice walk around the city. The streets were quiet at that time, but the weather was…yeah, you guessed it…cold. I also didn’t bring my umbrella. After time, it started sprinkling. It wasn’t heavy, but a little water after a long enough time would make for a wet James, and James wanted to be a dry James. I headed back.

Again, I enjoyed a nice hearty breakfast. The food was good and I was ready to explore. I left my bags there and checked out.

The city is surrounded by a great wall, which was nice. I knew I could never get too lost. I could always find my way back no matter where I went. I climbed the steps of the wall again and traveled that way for a way. It offered nice protection from the drizzling rain which refused to let up. The sites were great. It’s one of Europe’s oldest medieval cities and very well preserved. I explored most of the wall and finally went shopping on some of the streets. For people who love to shop, this city is a paradise. I just wanted snacks. I found a shop selling Schneeballen, something I had read about. Rick Steve doesn’t seem to care for them, so I was wary, figuring they’d be some odd doughy treat, but the chocolate-covered ones looked tasty and it would have been a shame never to try one. I ate it that night, and I will add that it was excellent. It’s like a tasty balled up cookie. If you get the chance, buy a half-dozen, just be sure to share them—they looked very high in carbs.

Afterwards, I visited an old church and got some photos. I then went to city hall, and climbed a tall tower. It was about 2 euros to ascend, but highly worth it. Up on the bell tower, there was little room, yet the view was impressive. A sharp cold wind blew heavily, but my gloves and hood did the trick. I snapped many photos before coming down again.

My last stop was the Kriminal Museum, which mainly featured torture devices from medieval times. I actually wasn’t too thrilled with the tour. I guess it’s just sort of a sad part in history. I also think, looking back, that I was mainly worried about catching my train. I left the museum about 15 minutes after entering. I had forgotten that I would need to have the hotel people come let me in to get my bags. Walking back led to jogging back, for the time was getting short. I rang the buzzer and the wife said she’d call the guy to drive over. Yikes! I was hoping it wouldn’t take too long. About 10 minutes later, he arrived and I grabbed my bags and sprinted off to the train station. I had a clear idea of where I was going this time.

I did make the train in time, and looking back, I think I would have more interest in returning to the criminal museum again. In one way, it is sort of sick and macabre, but in another way, it’s an interesting part of history that offers insight into how people thought and acted (twisted as they often were). There is a ton of notes and paperwork about medieval torture. Next time, I’ll just have to allot a little more time. By for now, my next stop was Munich.

Munich

I spent the next few hours on the train. It was Saturday, but there were still many passengers traveling. At this point I was pretty worn out. The days had been cold, long, and tiring. And when I reached the Munich train station, I inquired about reaching the airport and found out that one of the Metro trains did indeed travel to the airport. I could avoid taking the bus again. Leaving the train station, I headed north to the hostel. Trouble was the hostel was to the south. I corrected my mistake by heading back to the train station, and to the south.  Minutes later I was at the hostel. I had already made a reservation, which was good since they were booked now. I got my room key and my free beer--turns out they offer you a free beer when you stay there. Sweet! I then sat in the common room and used the Internet. I would not ever be checking into my room. My reservation there was just to have a warm place to stay and Internet access for about six hours. It also turns out that it would only be five hours since daylight savings time was now occurring in Germany. That was nice. It was also good to know before arriving at the airport an hour later than I had expected.

Time passed quickly at the hostel. I chatted with person from France and another person who went to the Cal State, Berkeley. Around 2 a.m., I packed my computer and departed the hostel. I suppose it was a little wasteful, but it only cost me about $18, and it didn't guarantee me some warm shelter for the evening. Remember what we learned 12 days ago? That's right. Train stations are cold.

The Metro ticket was difficult to purchase since the machines were only in German, and there wasn't any ticket office open to help me.  But I managed. I also spent my very last euro purchasing the ticket. My budgeting had turned out rather nicely. I came home with less than one dollar in foreign currency.

The train took about an hour to reach the airport. I still had a couple hours to kill. I found the right terminal and sat down and waited. To stay awake, I watched some more 24, but after about 45 minutes, the battery died. Notebook computer batteries just plain suck. In 15 years, they've improved very little. It was quite disappointing. Still, I had to stay awake. If I dozed off, I might miss the plane. So I played a small game on my iPhone for a while, but then wondered why the terminal desks when not staffed since it was now about 6:30 a.m. I decided to do some exploring.

Turns out I was at the wrong floor of the terminal. The active floor was one flight up. Good thing I checked. I got my tickets and went to the boarding area. There was still long wait, but at least I was closer. Eventually we got to board. The flight was quick. I dozed off a little, but was soon awake again, as we were landing at Heathrow Airport in London. We got off the plane using the rear exit. Apparently, we were not parked close enough to the exit ramp.

At Heathrow, I had to wait for my next plane. It would be a couple hours. It was also there that I ran into the only unfriendly or rude person on the trip. She was an "unhealthy" lady working at a gate. The poor thing just seemed very alone and unhappy. But one person wasn't going to ruin my trip and the next agent I met was very friendly. I was also told that I was seated in economy plus. This was a nice surprise. Sure it wasn't business-class, but there was more leg room-- something I came to appreciate.

The flight to SFO would be 10 hours. We didn’t seem to save any time by heading to London first, but it was all part of the special deal. Seated next to me was a nice German lady named Vivian. She was coming to San Francisco for a few weeks or months. Her English was limited, but we managed to talk about a lot over the long flight. I told her about things to do in San Francisco and the Bay Area and throughout California. It was sort of the opposite of when I was going to Germany and the passenger next to me explained the things to do in Central Europe. I also watched one movie—Doubt, which was rather good. Overall, the entertainment system on the United flight wasn't as good as the one on the Lufthansa flight two weeks prior. This one lacked any real controls and the monitor was only about 4 inches. Thus, one movie was enough. I also got some rest, but not a lot, considering I had been up for about 24 hours.

Landing in San Francisco was nice. I got to skip the baggage claim since I only had carry-on and headed straight for the exits. Terry and Lesly soon arrived and gave me a ride home.

Ah, home. The first thing I really appreciated was the nice weather. The skies were blue and the sun was shining. The rain was gone and I wasn't freezing anymore.

Lessons Learned

Travel lightly. I brought 8 DVDs and didn't even watch one. I bought several books and read maybe 10 pages total. The computer…hard to say. It did come in handy for making reservations, checking e-mail, and blogging. But the weight was darn annoying.

The rest time was also very important. Sometimes it's good just to spend two days in a city, if only to have that extra day to relax and rest and recharge the batteries—both literally and figuratively.

Train stations are cold. Jeans dry slowly. Travel lightly.

Even in the big cities: not everything is in English. Not everyone speaks English. This is not as problematic in the daytime, when information kiosks are open, but at night...well, good luck.

Eastern Europe is cheaper. People are friendli..e..well, darn it all. People were friendly everywhere I went. Remember, you have to talk to them first. Most people (like here) keep to themselves, though in smaller towns, even strangers tend to say "Good morning" when you pass them in the morning. That's nice.

Train wisdom

• 1^st class is a TOTAL waste. Sometimes, the quoted price was double…and for what? A little extra leg room on a mostly empty car?!? Skip it. Always skip it.

• Sleeper cars work great—though it helps to combine them with train station showers (which the larger ones feature for a great price). Despite that, it isn't quite as restful as stationary lodging.

• Power is sometimes provided, often on the night trains.

• Getting confused is mandatory. It is going to happen—a lot!

• Ask, ask, ask. Even I do that on occasion. The results are downright amazing.

• Never panic: you bought the rights to your destination (not applicable for airlines). Missing a train usually isn’t a problem. Most often, they will let you on the next train. Some shorter hops don’t even check tickets. Of course if you miss the last train for the night, then it’s more of a problem.

• Have faith. “Problems” usually work themselves out.

• Take chances. If it seems like the right train, it probably is. Usually, if the time and platform match up, I climb aboard. And I wasn’t wrong once.

• Ask about changes! In Prague, I bought tickets for the next day and regretted it once I left the station. I had elected to stay an extra day since the night trains were full. But I knew I wanted to leave town that night. I simply walked back in and asked about an earlier train instead. The lady changed my tickets and I was on a train that evening.

Summary

The trip was good. It's always rewarding getting out of the country. Someone asked how much I spent, but I don't think of it that way. It's not what I spent; it's what I gained that matters. Certainly, I could save money by never traveling to any other country, but what fun would that be?

Before leaving, another person said, “Must be nice.” Hmmm. Yes...it is nice, but it wasn’t as if someone dropped a bag of cash into my lap and said, “See Europe on me!” I appreciate my unmerited blessings, but I also saved the money for years. I don’t buy all the latest fashionable clothes or upgrade my car every two years. I was able to afford the trip because I saved up the money by sensible living first.

The real question still remains. Is it worth it during the winter? I have to admit that I saved a lot of money traveling in the off-season and the plane tickets were also unbelievably cheap. ($412 round trip from SFO to Munich!) But the photos?

Since I mainly went as a photographer, I have to evaluate it from that perspective. And honestly, it's just not a wise time of year to go (if you want great pictures). All I mainly saw were clouds of gray. I did get a few great shots here and there, but I felt like I missed so many due to the poor lighting. It's all stuff to keep in mind for the future. I suppose if one is going in order to visit museums, the opera, and the theater, then the weather isn't as important a factor, but I wanted great shots, and for those I'll have to go back in the late spring, summer or early fall.

For now…I wait. And enjoy the clear blue skies and the warmth of California.