A Small Update

Today I woke up at the ungodly hour of 5:30AM just so I could catch the bus to Utrecht Centraal, the main station from Utrecht (which is 25 min away from Amsterdam) to Frankfurt Am Main. I’ve been staying at the University College in Utrecht because my friend Joyce goes to school there and she offered to host me for awhile. Utrecht is such a quaint little city but its supposed to be the 4th largest in the Netherlands. Highlights of the town include the Dom Tower (the main church) and a fairly large shopping center called De Planeet as well as ridiculously cute streets, shops, and restaurants. My Dutch (speaking, reading, or repeating) is shameful because I can’t seem to be able to make that hacking guttural sound that sounds like I’m coughing up a hairball. All the consonants jumbled together makes things confusing and also make remembering place names a little tricky. I often think to myself, “Alright, just remember to get back to the place that starts with a V and has 15 N’s, 4 J’s, and 2 I’s.”
Anyway, the sun hasn’t risen yet and I’m the only person walking along the cobblestone street to my stop. Its really nice—the ground is still wet because it rained yesterday and I like the sound my boots make on the ground. When the bus arrives, I give the driver my Strippenkaart which he stamps. It’s a pity that I have some rides still left over. The bus is really a better version of the nice AC transit buses that run in Berkeley, made by the same Belgian company Van Hool. Still sleepy, at Utrecht Centraal I buy a croissant and water at the nearest Albert Heijn (supermarket/711 type store) and make my way down to the ICE train tracks for my Frankfurt bound train. I’m not going to lie, if I had balls I would’ve frozen them off while waiting for the train. Its not the cold that makes it unbearable, its the wind. Brr. Also, trains in Europe are PUNCTUAL. I know this from experience as I missed my train going from Paris to Amsterdam (a story which I’ll explain later). Nevermind all that digression.
At Frankfurt I’m supposed to meet Chris in front of McDonalds since it’s the most prominent landmark on the second level of the station. If you know Chris you’ll know why this is an obvious meeting point. After some complications and missed connections, we finally met up and his Dad offers to take us on a whirlwind tour to see some castles along the Rhine River in the town of Rudesheim. The place is known for making Asbach Uralt Brandy—all the shop windows are filled with bottles of the stuff—and after having lunch in Drosselgasse, a small historic alleyway, where I had schnitzel! (it was alright), we walked a little along the Rhine where Chris’s dad pointed out a miniature toll castle which back in those days, if you couldn’t pay the required fee, you would be doomed to suffer in the depths of its prison when the river’s water level rose. How marvelously morbid.

--- Chris just walked in---
“So you’re the one using the internet! I’ve been trying to talk to Alex but it keeps cutting out. Well, I’ll go steal the neighbor’s signal. Goodnight!”---

The hills/mountains along the Rhine are jagged and rocky and the trees look a little like the ones you see in Caspar David Friedrich paintings. With the rain and the fog, the landscape was truly eerie, but impressive. We drove on down the Romantic Road (I know, its really called the Romantic Road but I think its because of the Romans and not because its actually “romantic” in the love sense) and did some castle spotting. The castles which fly flags mean that there are people who still live there. We saw two of those at the most. But as I had been deprived of proper sleep for some days now and last night was no exception, I had a terrible time staying awake (a moving car is a mother’s womb they say) and I basically conked out. This was ok, since Chris did too and when I awoke, we were in fields of green as far as the eye could see heading towards a small village called Enkenbach Alsenborn also part of Kaiserslautern, a bigger city near the Palatinate forest.
In the district where Chris lives also is home to approximately 50,000 NATO military personnel members who are mainly American. This means American TV (we watched Fraiser and Pirates of the Caribbean tonight)! I cannot explain how hidden this village is. Their house is incredibly homey – I got my own room with a slanted wooden roof (its like living in a secret attic!) and there’s a fireplace constantly burning. Chris’s father is soft spoken but extremely knowledgeable while Chris’s mom towers above me and reminds me a bit of a 19th century schoolmarm with a Scottish accent.

--At the dinner table—
“Christopher, did we raise you proper? You are supposed to pass the potatoes to the lady first.”
The response: “Oh, whatever”
She turns to me: “I want you to know that Christopher was raised to follow manners”

Later while watching TV
Chris: I don’t even know where Monaco is
His Mom: You’ve been to Monaco, we’ve taken you there
Chris: I have a bad memory
His Mom: (sarcastically) You seemed to remember very clearly when you didn’t get the same pink Barbie car as Whitney when you were four years old

In addition, Chris and I are setting off the day after to Munich where we will see Dachau concentration camp and Neuschwanstein Castle (New Swan Stone Palace), built in the 19th century by Ludwig II of Bavaria, then an overnight train to Vienna, then train to Venice, Florence, Roma, Pisa/Monaco, then well…. We still aren’t done planning. In true backpacker fashion we have chosen to skimp on hostels (they are still expensive!) and opt for overnight trains instead. This means no showering for some days. Good thing I have no one to impress here.

I should go to bed now, as tomorrow we are going to Heidleberg and Trier (a city on the bank of the Moselle river) and we're also finishing some last minute planning. Ciao!