Cologne, Germany 4/18/07

It’s another one of those entries where I’m leaving one town and heading to another but I know I have to make some time to write about the great experiences I have had in the last week. I leave in about an hour for Amsterdam and I’m sure I will have plenty to write about there, and even less time devoted to writing it down. So where do I begin today?

I should probably back up and talk about last weekend in Frankfurt first, definitely one of the highlights of the trip and a true example of why I love traveling. Last fall when I was wandering East Asia I arrived into Koh Phangan and random circumstances turned a stranger into another good friend. I was packed in a mini-bus with about a dozen other Backpackers heading to Hat Rin beach from the ferry dock. As we literally bounced down and around dirt roads the driver would stop at various times and point people to which path would lead to their respective bungalows. When he yelled out what sounded similar to “Paliti Lodge”, where my reservation was, I signaled with a “Yep”.

To get out of one of those mini-busses usually requires most of the other people to get out also. As the driver was getting my pack off the top and everyone else was piling back in, one of them turned to me and said. “I don’t have a reservation anywhere. Do you know if your place has vacancies?”

“No I don’t but you’re more than welcome to come check it out.” I replied.
“Yes, I think I will. It’s as good as any place to start.”

The random Backpacker was Manuel, from Germany, and he booked a bungalow two shacks behind mine and just that easily I had a drinking buddy for the next 5 days in Koh Phangan and eventually other spots in Thailand and Cambodia when our paths crossed again. Five months later when I e-mailed him to tell him I would be in Germany he insisted I pass through Frankfurt and stay with him for a weekend.

Manuel and his girlfriend, Diana, live on the North side of Frankfurt. A small apartment like you would expect any young professional couple in their 20’s in a major city to live. We went out for a traditional German dinner on Friday night and I was introduced to Apfelwein, a regional drink that I really liked, especially the sweet kind. Afterwards it was a late night in the Frankfurt bars.

Diana serving breakfast....I thought I was at a B&B!

The big treat came on Saturday. After a tour of Frankfurt’s historical areas, Manuel and I met Chris (McMahon, from the Rome entry) and his fiancé, Heather, at the train station. Heather is in the Army and is stationed outside of Frankfurt. In fact this was her first weekend back after about 6 months in Iraq.

The weather in Germany has been gorgeous. “Springtime in Germany.....” as the Nazis would probably be singing; not a cloud in the sky with temperatures in the mid-70’s. I enjoy it but the locals are going absolutely nuts over it, like most locals do when it’s clear that winter is officially over. Manuel and Diana were no different and thought it would be a great weekend for a barbeque. They invited a few of their friends over along with Chris and Heather. It was the perfect melting of worlds together. A frat buddy from SIU and a backpacking buddy from Thailand. The world continues to shrink at an ever increasing pace….and I love it!

Seven of us filled the small apartment balcony, the beer was iced down in the bathtub, and Diana prepared enough food to feed twice as many people. To all my meat loving BBQ friends you would have been in heaven. The Germans are true carnivores. The food was delicious and I ate steady for a couple hours; one of those occasions where you are full but you still find yourself eating chips and cheese that are on the table in front of you and you don’t know why.

Manuel the German Grill Master

Of course the best part wasn’t the food or even the beer (which was top notch by the way) it was the mingling of cultures. Heather told stories of what it’s like to live in Baghdad. Chris told stories about what it’s like to live in Naples. Manuel and his friends told stories about what it’s like to grow up in Germany, which I found really interesting.

For the most part there wasn’t much difference to growing up in the States. We covered everything from 80’s fads and bad/classic TV shows to school. As you can imagine history class in Germany could be a delicate subject. Manuel said they are basically just taught the facts. What happened and most importantly why it happened. I won’t dive into a history lesson starting at World War One but that’s what we discussed. It was a very interesting discussion and it was pretty easy to see some similarities today in world affairs. The recipe for tyrannical regimes to flourish is a pretty easy one to figure out.

I left Frankfurt on Sunday afternoon and arrived in Cologne a couple hours later, after just deciding to go to Cologne about 24 hours prior. I love having a rail pass, and the flex time to use it. I can’t thank Manuel and Diana enough for my weekend in Frankfurt. They wouldn’t accept any money after keeping me full on food and beer for two days. I hope I get the chance to repay their kindness somewhere down the road.

Manuel, Heather, and Chris

Cologne has been a relaxing time. I have a good hostel right in the center of town; 2 blocks from the train station which also makes it about 2 blocks from the HUGE cathedral. The Hohe Domkirche St. Peter und Maria, as it's officially named, really is an awesome building. The size is overwhelming but so is the intricacy of the Gothic design and ornaments. I can’t imagine how they build something like it. I paid my 2 euro’s and climbed the narrow spiral staircase to the top. The view at the top was nice but I was more impressed with seeing the weight of the structure at that height. The bells alone were huge.


Front door......side door!

.......finally at the top. A view of one of the steaples.

I did some research on line about gyms in the area on the Sunday night I arrived in town. So on Monday as I wandered around checking on prices I saw a lot more of the City. I eventually found the best deal at the one closest to my hostel which was very convenient. It was a great gym too. I bought a pass for the week which was a little expensive but a better deal than the single day passes and looking back I think I got my money’s worth. It even had another Wellness section that I took full advantage of one morning after a late night and lots of Kolsh beer.

On Monday night I made some friends at the hostel café and after a few beers there we headed out on the town. My new Backpacker friends were Chris and Kat from Canada, Eric and Vince from L.A., and Claudia from Berlin. We hit the town pretty late on a Monday night so we had to make our own fun at most of the bars.

Our loud, English speaking, table attracted the attention of one particular, self diagnosed drunk, German at bar number 2. He just came over and sat down with us and said “I like to speak English too.” So he proceeded to do just that, mostly directed at the girls of course. Some things are universal and I respected his intro line, flying solo no less.

The drunken guys name was Phil and he was pretty fun to hang with for awhile. He did provide me with a quote that I will laugh at and probably think of often back in the States. Eric and I were debating getting a kabob on the walk back when Phil broke away from hitting on the girls to say in a thick, slurred, German accent “I would kill for soft taco supreme!” Eric and I almost spit out our beer. Phil then began to reminisce about his year as an exchange student in California and then complain that of all the American franchises in Germany he was very upset that Taco Bell had not made it here yet. It’s a good thing Phil has never sampled Labamba’s. I’m afraid he would never leave the Mid-West.

My Hostel friends.....and Phil dreaming of a Soft Taco Supreme.

It’s time to head to the train station now; directly to track 5 and the fantastic first class car of the ICE train, the nicest train I have traveled on in Europe. Maybe I should have shaved today?

MJF

Freiburg, Germany 4/13/07

I love a college town! Could be because until I was about 18, college towns, namely Champaign and Carbondale, were the only world I knew. With the exception of the small towns around Champaign and the occasional trip to Chicago. The Rough Guide had said Freiburg was a “University Town” but I had forgotten that fact. I was coming here because it was a good base for exploring the Black Forest but as soon as I wandered out of the train station I could immediately tell I was in a college town…and I loved it!

On the short tram ride and walk to my hostel I took note of everything; lots of cool looking cafes, bars, and shops; band and party fliers stuck to every wall, pole, or even a few trees. Add to that some old fashioned German feel; cobble stone roads, gullies of water flowing next to the streets, medieval towers and walls that the streets and tram lines now run right through. Top it all off with lots of people on bikes. There were sporty folks on new mountain bikes with full suspensions. There were old ladies on old bikes with a basket on the front. There was every walk of life all riding a bike. The bike paths and roads were busier with cyclists than they were with cars.

I’m also not sure how to describe it but there is a definite Earthy feel here too. I must have passed at least a dozen camping outfitters. I have never been to Boulder, CO but this is how I have pictured it, only German.

My time in Florence wrapped up well enough but I’ll admit I was ready to leave. I liked the city. It’s just not the kind of place that drives my passions. My last day there started off as planned. I hit the Museum de Accademia. I got there early, about 8:30 a.m. which was the published opening time of the museum. I still waited in line, outside against graffiti covered walls, for 90 minutes. When I finally got inside there was hordes of tour bus people all following different little flags. I paid my 6,50 eu and plowed through, skipping the audio tour option.

Once inside the actual museum things became a little less herd like. I meandered from one dark, dramatized, picture from the Bible after another and tried to find something “I liked” or at least appreciated but I’ll admit it didn’t happen. As for the statue of David, it was bigger than I thought it was going to be. How about that? The Mona Lisa was smaller than I imagined and the statue of David was bigger than I imagined. I guess I only have a medium sized imagination. Once I saw the little tour guide flags making their way around the corner towards David I knew it was time to keep moving.

The rest of my day didn’t go as planned. By the time I got to the Duomo and the Uffizi the lines were crazy long! We are talking 2 to 3 hours to get into the Uffizi. You can refer to my thoughts on the line at St. Peters in Rome for what I think of 3 hour long lines. Instead I headed for the Church of Santa Croce. Now that place I liked and not just because there wasn’t any lines. The church itself is beautiful just architecturally. Inside are the tombs and monuments to most of Italy’s greatest citizens like Galileo, Michelangelo, Machiavelli, etc.

The line for the Duomo and Galileo's Tomb in Santa Croce

I wrapped up my day hanging out in the gardens at the Giardino di Boboli. I wandered through the entire place, up the big hill and down. I eventually found a good spot under a tree that was shaded just enough and laid down to read for awhile. Now that’s the way to enjoy Florence in my world!

My train ride from Florence to Freiburg was my longest travel day of the trip thus far; 7 a.m. to about 7 p.m. and three different connections. For the most part it was a very enjoyable day. I love train travel, always have really. I loved taking it home from school in the SIU days. I loved taking it to Chicago, Memphis, New Orleans, basically any of the stops on the famed City of New Orleans train. Of course no train reminiscing would be complete without a second or two to remember the time MJ and I hopped a freight train. Coincidentally that was about the same length of time as the trip from Italy to Germany. The similarity probably ends there. Both were great rides but 12 hours in a first class car listening to my iPod as the gorgeous Swiss landscape rolled by is a different trip than a loud, noisy, dirty, cold night in an open box car cruising up Florida towards Georgia.

I enjoyed my Swiss section of the train ride immensely. I didn’t even break out a book or the lap top. I just stared out the window for probably 5 hours. I covered some of the same section of rail that I did going down to Italy so it was nice to recognize a certain villa or mountain. It was a nice way to spend the day. 113 of 10,719 songs shuffled through on the trusty iPod and when I arrived in Freiberg it felt like I had just left Italy.

Lazy travel days are nice but yesterday in Freiburg was really my kind of perfect day. I hiked through the Black Forest for half the day; ate lunch by a mountain lake looking up at the snow covered peak from where I started; found my way through the rolling German country side in time to catch a train back to Freiburg; wrapped up the day with a great dinner and a cold beer in a bar with posters of upcoming, and past, band performances (there was a cool picture of The Ramones standing outside the same door that I walked through). The only drawback to the day was that there was no band last night. It was soccer night.

My hike was amazing! I got some tips on places to go from the guy at the front desk of my hostel. That led me to the train station where I got more directions on how to get to where he suggested. 50 minutes later I arrived in Feldberg. From there I got the help of a bus driver that gave me a free ride 20 minutes up the road to where I could buy a map. My last bit of help came from the lady at the gift shop that sold me the map and pointed out where we were now located on the map. I bought a sandwich from the deli counter, ate half of it, and put the other half in my pack for later to go along with my trail mix, banana, and water. Off I went into the Black Forest.

The trail system in the forest is very well marked. Almost like an Interstate for mountain bikers, hikers, and, in the winter, cross country skiers. At various intersections there are sign posts that tell you the direction and distance to various other points. For the most part it’s very easy to follow. That of course doesn’t mean you can’t get lost which I managed to do a litle bit.

My helpful Bus Driver and my starting point in Feldberg

A quote I learned in Utah just popped in my head. “If you have no place to be and no time to be there you can never be lost.” I guess I wasn’t lost then… even a little.

Starting off at Feldberg, which is home to the highest peak in the Black Forest, meant there was still snow on the ground. It was a bright sunny day though so it wasn't cold and hiking at a decent pace keeps you pretty warm in addition to the sun. It’s always a treat when you can hike in a forest, through 3 inches of snow, in short sleeves.

It was mostly downhill and an easy trail to follow to get to my lunch spot, Lake Feldsee. Wow, what a gorgeous spot; almost a perfect circle of water, reflecting the cliffs and trees that surround it. There was a big flat rock sticking out of the water about 3 feet from the shore and I hopped over to it to relax. I felt like I was in a Bob Ross painting. I could hear his hypnotic voice talking as he painted my view. “Maybe a happy little hiker is going to stop on this rock and eat his lunch. Ya, maybe. It’s all up to you in your world.”

Me at Feldsee and a shot of the Black Forest from the trail.

Sitting there eating my lunch I was so happy. No lines! No audio guides! No tour group flags! No crowded sidewalks! It’s now obvious that I’ll take a mountain lake over a museum any day of the week. I tried to be cultured. It just didn’t take. I’ll keep trying of course. I’m not running off to write my own Walden just yet.

After lunch is where my hike got a little interesting. I’m not sure where I lost the trail that I thought I was on but I did. My nice intersection sign posts were nowhere to be found. Oh well! I pulled out the compass and kept following the trail that was going in the direction that I wanted to be going. At the occasional clearing I would check my location through the topographic features on the map and the landscape around me. It was just like I learned in the Boy Scouts years ago and practiced again last June at survival school in Utah. Ahhh, applied knowledge! I love it!

I even had to do a little bush whacking which is pretty easy to do in the Black Forest because it’s mostly pines and not chocked with ground foliage. The trail that I was following was suddenly closed for I think logging. I couldn’t read the sign, it was in German of course, but the temporary orange barrier fence that went across the trail with a red and white sign punctuated with exclamation points made it very clear in any language that the trail was closed. The roar of a chainsaw and falling trees in the distance quickly stopped any thought of going over or around it.

When I finally emerged about 2 km later on to the main trail I was filled with a great sense of pride. I was actually even a kilometer closer to my destination than I thought I would be. Eventually the forest ended and I walked the final 3 km on rolling country roads, through small farms with cows looking at me, and chickens behind little wire cages. When I saw the town of Hinterzarten at the bottom of a big green hill I stopped for one last break to finish off my food. According to my map I had hiked around 15 km. My legs were sore but I felt great. It’s odd to be physically tired yet feel great. I love that feeling. I sang JT’s “Country Road” in my head as I strolled into town and hopped the train back to Freiburg.

It’s time to move on again. Today I head to Frankfurt and meet up with my friend Manuel. I’m staying with him and his girlfriend for the weekend and I’m pretty excited about it. (I have a free place to stay in Germany from a guy I met in Thailand! How did I get here? I’m a long way from Philo now….but I still know how to get back.)

MJF

Pisa, Italy 4/9/07

I am sitting against a wall in the Piazza del Duumo, as the sign here says or the Campo dei Maracoli as the Rough Guide calls it. Either way there is a cathedral between me and the famous tower. I found a quiet patch of lawn void of tourist for about 20 meters in each direction. There is just some cooing pigeons and me.

It is an overcast day which kind of takes away from the photogenic appeal of such a famously photographed spot. I only snapped a couple of the tower before I had a feeling of satisfaction. “Ok, got it. What’s next?”

The lean of it is kind of fun, especially when you get close to the base. I was disappointed to see the guide wires attached to its sides though, feels like cheating to me. Half the fun should be never knowing if it’s going to fall over. I’m sure the local CVB would disagree with me. I am still debating on buying a ticket to climb it. Very odd for me I know. It costs 15 Euros though and my gut tells me it’s just not worth it. Maybe after lunch and a café (espresso) I’ll change my mind.

Today is just a day trip over to Pisa. I am actually staying in Florence, or as the Italians call it Firenze. I’m still confused on why if the Italians call it Firenze, and it’s Italian, we call it Florence. It s like that with many of the Italian cities though so “when in Rome…”, while I am in Italy it will be Firenze. When I leave it will go back to being Florence. I doubt the residents will ever feel the difference.

Speaking of Rome that is where I spent this past weekend; 4 days, 3 nights wandering day and night through the dirty streets of Rome. That dirt thing goes for Florence and Pisa too. I can’t get over how dirty things are here in Italy. I miss Switzerland. My stop off in Lugano, Switzerland, after Zurich, turns out to be the perfect melting point.

Lugano from on top of San Salvatore

It’s technically in Switzerland so it’s still very clean and well maintained but it’s so close to Italy everyone speaks Italian and the menus also reflect the culture shift. I’m really glad I stopped there and not just because of the great hike I had to the top of San Salvatore. Lugano is turning out to be my favorite Italian city despite its technical geographical location.

Rome was a lot of fun mainly because I finally had a friend to hang out with. My world traveling federal agent friend Chris McMahon has lived in Naples now for a couple years. When I started planning this little trip to Europe, meeting up with him was one of the few things I knew for sure that I wanted to do. I would have liked to get down to Naples but I only have two months in Europe and lots to see so Chris suggested we just meet in Rome.

Much like London and Paris I pretty much saw all the main highlights in Rome but didn’t feel the need to wander through every museum or church including the basilica of St. Peter. Plus I should mention I was there on Easter weekend, Good Friday to be exact. Kind of a popular time to be there I found out. We wandered into Vatican City and the Piazza San Pietro and the line to get in the Basilica was longer than any que I have ever seen. I never saw the end of it. If I’m going to wait in a line that long there better be a concert waiting for me at the end of it and I don’t think the Pope does much rocking out. Well not on Easter Weekend at least.

Chris in Piazza San Pietro

I was more interested in Rome’s pre-Christian stuff anyway so disappointment didn’t cross my mind. I invested my tour money and time on the Colosseum, Palatine Hill, and the Forum. I really liked them, especially Palatine Hill, and feel happy with my tour guide investment.
Looking back at Rome, the main highlight for me though was just hanging out with a good friend. Telling old stories and making new ones as we wandered from one thing to the next. Basically they were places I would have seen if Chris was with me or not so having him there is what made it different.

Almost everyone I meet that has ever been to Rome or Italy in general, talks about how great the food is. I would agree with them and again thank Chris for making that a reality for me. I’m sure the eating experience is not nearly as good without good company.
We had some great meals. Whether it was just a Panini from a mobile cart or a 3 course dinner in the Campo dei Fiori the food and drink were excellent. My older age has brought me an appreciation of the espresso. I enjoy one at any time of day but I really find one after a meal to be top notch. In the States only your nicer restaurants have it available. Jillian can vouch for how many times I have been shot down trying to order an espresso after dinner. In Italy it’s pretty much standard everywhere and I love it!

Of course there were many cold beers drank too and with the help of a nice siesta on each day Chris and I had a couple late nights hitting the bars of Rome which is probably where most of the new stories were created. We made bar friends from Iowa to Europe. I found out Italians can either be really nice or really stuck up, just like the rest of the world. Most notably I learned that Slovakians can be hilarious and carry really good candy bars!

The distinct smell of pot just drifted past me. I think the three dudes down the wall to my left are using this spot like they were behind the Shop in high school. I wonder if the tower leans more if you are high. Maybe it appears straight and all the other buildings start to lean? Alas, I’ll never know.

Tomorrow is my big museum and tour day in Firenze. I’m planning on waking early and tackling the Galleria degali Uffizi, del Duomo, the Santa Croce Church, and also to the Gallerie del Accademia. I’ll probably hit that one first in an attempt to beat the crowds all heading to the same thing I am, a statue “people” tell me is a masterpiece but probably one that will look just as nice as some lawn statues I’ve seen. It’s Michelangelo’s’ “David” and it lives in Florence and it’s just one of the things that I know I have to see. Kind of like the tower, leaning on the other side of this church in front of me. I’m not sure why but am I more excited to see Galileo’s grave at Santa Croce than I am to see “David”.

I arrived in Firenze yesterday so I have already wandered a bit. All the hostels were full, not a good sign for things to come at the museums I’m afraid, so I had a hotel room last night and are moving to a cheaper place today. Last night’s 115 Euro evening was an OK place. An old hotel right on the River Arno, but I think my money all went to the view. I should have just slept out on the balcony.

My goal when I left Rome was to work most of Easter Sunday. I was spending the money on the hotel room with Wi-Fi so I should take advantage of it and rest the tourist legs for a day. 20 minutes into my 24 hour investment of internet time it was obvious their system wasn’t working correctly. The inept staff at check in were no help and the manager was just as confused. “We have had this problem before. I will call the service. It should work again by Tuesday.” So much for my work day. I tried!

It was a beautiful late afternoon and I used the last 3 hours of sunlight to wander from the Piazza de Republica to the Piazza Del Pitti and from the Pointe Della Vittoria Bridge to the Pointe Vechhcio Bridge. I hung out for awhile on the Pointe Vecchio and watched the sun set. I took note of the famed bust of Cellini and more specifically the railing that surrounds it where lovers use padlocks as symbols of their bond, lock them on the surrounding fence, and then throw the key in the river. There weren’t many locks on the fence. Either they recently cleaned it off or there is far less love in the world than I thought. I’m hoping it’s the first reason but that would probably make that little fence the first thing I have seen them clean in Italy.

It’s getting close to lunch time. I better go find a window with some Panini’s I can recognize. A Panini, aqua naturaly, and a gelato; it’s another Italian lunch for me. Maybe I’ll even get a double scoop of gelato today with different flavors. Such tough decisions I have to make these days!!

MJF

Zurich, Switzerland 2/4/07

42.195 kilometers done in 3 hours and 53 minutes. The marathon that has taken up many of my thoughts for the last month is finally done! I have mixed emotions about it. On one side I’m again disappointed that I did not improve. I actually got worse. More specifically, I’m disappointed that I lacked the focus and discipline to improve. However there is nothing in the last few months, and especially in the last 10 days, that I would change so I should probably try to learn something from just that.

On the other side, knowing what condition I had left myself in for this race, I am very happy with my performance. I started to worry last Thursday night about how bad I felt and it lasted right up to race day on Sunday. I knew there was a 5 hour cut off. I’ve never walked a marathon before and I don’t know if you can walk it in under 5 hours. Frankly I wasn’t even sure I could walk 42 kilometers. That’s a new feeling compared to the previous 6 marathons that I have done, including even the first. I always knew I could finish. This time I didn't know. I just didn’t know what my body was going to feel like after a mile, let alone 15, or 20, or so on.

I’m fond of telling people that anyone can run a marathon. “It’s mind over body.” I say. “You just keep putting one foot in front of the other and eventually you’re there.” I think I proved this theory, to myself at least, yesterday when I completed the run.

My legs hurt the entire way, most specifically my left hip and what I call my Skiing Souvenir. If I had been on a training run I would have stopped after a mile and rested for a week but it was race time. No more time to rest. So I bit my lip and put one foot in front of the other.

The event itself was a great experience. There was about 5,000 runners, including 33 other Americans though I didn’t meet any. The course was great! It was very fluid with not many right angle turns. Narrow, cobble streets grew and curved into wide riverside drives and went through several of the small towns on the outskirts of Zurich. There were great crowds in each town, some with traditional Swiss bands and large cowbells, others with modern DJ’s or bands. I laughed for a kilometer at the Swiss cover band playing “Highway to Hell”.

All the fans, and homemade signs, used the phrase “Hopp, Hopp”. I think it means run or something like it. It was very catchy and I soon found more strength when people would see my name printed on my bib number and yell “Mathew. Hopp Hopp, Hopp, Hopp!” When I started the race I kept saying “Slow and steady, slow and steady” in an attempt to remind myself that the tortoise wins the race. I’m not sure at which kilometer it changed but by the end of the race my mind just kept saying “Hopp, hopp, hopp, hopp….”

Now that is enough time, energy, and ink dedicated to this one obsession. The legs and body are sore but I will recover and there will be new marathons. The medal will go in the pack and eventually in the trunk. It’s done and I’m glad but I am more pleased for having accomplished it. The reward always seems to be in the journey for me.

OK, confession time: I’m sitting in a Starbucks. I know, I know, I’m a bad traveler. There are plenty of cafes and coffee shops around that aren’t American cookie cutter franchises but to defend myself, or justify to myself I suppose because not many people would really care, the area coffee shops and cafes don’t have what I need.

Today I needed:
- A LARGE, hot, espresso drink: The traditional café portions are just not enough. I needed a gluttonous American size portion!
- A “comfy” chair, couch, footstool, etc.: The traditional straight back wood or metal chairs you find in the cafes don’t make for a good 2 to 3 hour sit, even with rested legs.
- “Atmosphere”: A factor that’s hard to define and varies a little depending on my mood but today two factors jump to mind; smoke free and good music. The trusty iPod is always handy to help any café but when I walked into this Starbucks and Ray Charles was already cranked up I just smiled. I wouldn’t need the iPod today.

My time in Zurich has been nice and I do like this City; a good mix between old and new; traditional with modern conveniences. I still have more wandering of it to do today but when I leave here tomorrow, after 5 days, and with the help of the 42.195 km that the race covered, it will be safe to say I saw most of the City.

I did some shopping with the rest of the locals, and tourists, on their popular Bahnhof Strasse, in the middle class section of course. My search for a watch, one other than my running watch that I‘ve noticed really smells, stopped when shops started putting Rolexes in the windows and the store names changed to Cartier. I thought I was on a colder version of Worth Avenue.

The Pare de Platz, which the Rough Guide said was a great plaza for people watching, was just so so. I enjoyed the waterfront more for sitting on a bench and people watching. I am staying in the area called the West End. A former industrial area turned trendy, Yuppie hangout. How many times have I seen that now? As usual it was kind of cool how they didn’t change much of the structures; just stuck some restaurants in an old factory but left some of the assembly line machines. It’s different I guess but not really my style and also very expensive.

Oh, I just remembered I need to document a couple things from my last 24 hours in Interlaken last week. Wow, how could I forget?! I chuckle just thinking about these experiences.

The first was another great cultural experience. Like I said in my last entry the place I was staying also gave me a free pass to the local gym. It was a big complex divided into Health, Wellness, & Fitness. I had been to the Fitness section a couple times which consisted of your typical exercise equipment, weights, and aerobic studios.

On my last day though I was feeling beat up, and was starting to fight the cold that I am still fighting, so I thought I would try out the Wellness section. The pictures in the brochure showed a whirl pool, sauna, and other things I couldn’t translate, but all together looked like a good way to help the muscles and body start feeling better.

Much like going to a foreign grocery store I find that going to foreign gyms is also a cultural experience. Probably any place that most tourists don’t go is a cultural experience I suppose. I like to think of myself as a traveler, not a tourist, though, and I have some experience to back that title. Even with that confidence I still get nervous, or timid, and that’s how I felt entering this new “Wellness” section but plowing straight ahead none the less.

I left the locker room with my running shorts on to act as a bathing suit I also kept a T-Shirt on, not knowing what to expect when I opened the door to the Wellness area. At first I just found the pool, a large pool that is; 3 lap lanes, diving well, separate kiddy pool. It was a big room and for a minute I thought this was what the Wellness section consisted of. I probably looked a little strange with T-Shirt, shorts, and towel walking around an indoor pool a few times but that‘s what I did.

The lady at the front desk had given me an electronic key to use to get into the Wellness area and I still had not had to use it so I figured there must be something more. Eventually I found a door on the far side of the pool area with a place to use the key but still no sign clearly showing that I was heading into the Wellness area. I put the key against the censor and it beeped. I opened the door and stepped through the looking glass.

It was a smaller section; very quiet, nobody in sight, all signs in Swiss. I saw some hooks and shelves with some towels and clothes on them so I took the cue. Now just in my shorts I headed to the huge whirl pool that took up a corner of the room. The water wasn’t as hot as I would have liked it but it was surrounded by glass and with the sun shining through it felt great. I quickly found a button that turned on the bubbles and they went to work on my sore back,

I was feeling better within minutes and was smiling at how nice this place was. I couldn’t believe I was getting this from a $20 a night hostel. “This is better than any hotel I have ever stayed.” I thought. From my comfy seat in the bubbling water and sunshine I started to look around the Wellness area to see what else it offered and that’s when the cultural experience slapped me in the face. A buck naked woman walked by! No towel! No nothing! Not going in a door or something. Just walking around!

I looked away immediately like I didn’t see anything and in my mind I waited for the scream. My mind was racing...“I must be in the wrong section or something! Oh my God you idiot you are in the Women’s locker room! No the key the lady game me opened this door! Why would she give me a key to the women’s side if I wasn’t supposed to be here?” A thousand thoughts and scenarios like this raced through my mind in a matter of seconds. In my head there was commotion. Outside I was sitting dead calm, eyes closed, in the corner of a bubbling pool of water hoping the entire world never noticed me.

The scream never came though and the idea that woman just hadn’t noticed me was pretty much ruled out no matter how much I wished it was the case. She had looked right at me. So still from my comfort zone in the whirl pool I started to look around again. This time a naked dude walked by! Again I looked away immediately but, very secure in my heterosexuality, I will admit to never being happier at seeing a naked man in my life! At least I knew I was in the right area and not about to be arrested for trespassing in a women’s spa.

Eventually my bubbles stopped and I knew it was time to leave the comfy water and see what the rest of the room had to offer my development. Kind of like evolution I suppose. As I walked to the towel area, my new confident, yet still very glancing, survey of the room determined that there were probably just 3 or 4of us there, unless someone else was hiding in the sauna or behind one of the other sauna like doors with names above them that I could not translate. Now I felt a little odd having my shorts on still but they were already wet. “I leave this town tomorrow. What do I care what they think of me?” I thought to myself.

The one sign that needed no translation though was on the sauna door and it clearly showed stick figures of a man and woman with bathing suits on and “X” s clearly showing that the clothing was not allowed in the sauna. OK, here we go! I was naked in public in Japan. Time to kick it up a notch in Switzerland and go co-ed! Off came the shorts!

Being naked in that situation normally would have made me more relaxed. After all I now blended in with everyone else. Plus I didn’t know any of them. “I leave this town tomorrow. What does it matter?” I still thought to myself. However now I was embarrassed for a different reason. My “Skiing Souvenir”!

My Skiing Souvenir is a HUGE, blue, black, purple, yellow, sometimes green bruise that goes from mid way down the side and back of my left thigh and up to my waist and gets wider, and more purple, through the obvious fleshy part in the middle. In a room of naked people it would still be the first thing you noticed. I would not blend in.

I hid my bruise as best I could with my towel as I walked around form one Wellness feature to the next. However lying naked in a sauna, except for a strategically placed hand towel of course, I did catch two ladies pointing at it and grimacing a little like it actually hurt them too. “Oh well,” I thought, “I leave this town tomorrow…..”

I really enjoyed my 2 hours of naked time in the Interlaken town Wellness Center. I hit the sauna and whirlpool a couple times. A spent a little time in the vapor room which I think helped keep my cold from getting worse, and lots of time just sitting in a chez lounge in a glass enclosed sun deck, with a towel on of course. I felt better physically, spiritually, and culturally for the experience. A true traveler experience!

- Pause -

It was time to stretch the legs some and my coffee was long gone so off I wandered. A couple trams later I am now in the Old Town Section of Zurich. I’m sitting at a sunny table outside of Café Bar Annabelle, not far from the iconic Gross Munster church. Wow, what a gorgeous day!

The weather has me feeling good and so does my lunch. When you order food, never fully understanding what each word in the description means, when it arrives there is always a surprise. This time I was 80% sure I was getting a turkey bagel sandwich. I was pleasantly surprised to find a slice of pineapple on it. Very nice! That must be what “ananas” means. It’s either that or eisbergsalat”. I’m not sure what that means either but all the bagel sandwich options had it so I’m guessing it’s a spread of some sort.

This is how almost every meal goes for me. Figuring out the words I know, comparing the rest, making an educated guess, and hoping for the best. I know I could ask. Almost everyone speaks some English here in Europe but that wouldn’t be near as fun. Besides how would I learn anything? Plus I unknowingly try new things this way too. For example, I need to put pineapple on more sandwiches! Yum!

OK, back to Interlaken and time to wrap up this entry. The morning I was checking out of the great Backpackers Villa I was just getting dressed when there was a knock at the door; an odd thing when you are sharing the room with several people, in this instance with 4 South Koreans. People just walk in and out. You don’t know who is “supposed” to be there or not so you don't knock. So I was curious as I opened the door but down right surprised when I found a 3 man camera crew standing outside.

A Swiss guy that I had seen around the place a couple times, and was probably part of the staff, was there and said “Hi, we are filming a commercial for the Villa would you mind if we come in and shoot your room?”

Feeling like I had little ownership of the room, and if I did I still wouldn’t have cared, I said sure, thinking he meant “the room”. Then he says, “Great! We’ll close the door and knock again. You open it and welcome us in.”
I started laughing. “Oh, you want me in it.”
“Yes, is OK? “Ya. No problem.” I chuckled. “Just let me put on a shirt.”

“Knock, knock” on the door and my Swiss TV commercial was off and running. I felt like I was on a reality show. “Just do what you were doing,” they said. So they filmed me gathering things up to leave and packing my backpack. They loved me brushing my teeth and I gave them a little “rabid dog snarl” which is always a must when brushing your teeth on camera. They loved it so I’m sure it’s set to make the final cut.

After that I went to breakfast and then they called me back to do a staged check in and check out. It was hilarious! The film crew didn’t speak English so all their requests, or directions I should say, went through the Villa’s staff who kept apologizing when they would want me to do something a second or third time.

Of course it didn’t bother me. I’m used to it and the whole thing took about an hour on a morning when I had plenty of time to catch my train. In the end they were very appreciative and offered me a free T-Shirt and hat for my services. I don’t need to carry another T just yet so I accepted the Victorinox baseball cap and went through with my actual check out. The real payment will come when someone that knows me is randomly watching TV in Europe and sees me brushing my teeth!

I also gave the crew and staff some CD’s of The Nadas. After hanging with Jason and the guys back in February he sent me a case of CD’s to seed Europe for their eventual tour. I put as many as I could in the pack and have been handing them out to various roomies as I travel. (So far it’s mostly South Koreans so if The Nadas suddenly take off there you’ll know why.)

My lunch is done now and it’s time to move on again. One more night in Zurich and then down to a town on the Italian border called Lugano….and just when my Swiss was getting better. How do you say pineapple in Italian?
MJF

Interlaken, Switzerland 29/3/07

“I was born in a small town….and I can breathe in a small town.” The big cities are nice and I love wandering them but I think my favorite spots when I travel are always the small towns. Of course “small” is a subjective term. I won’t try to quantify it. This is my book of thoughts so I’ll issue the titles as I see fit and Interlaken feels like a small town. I LOVE IT!

I loved it the minute I stepped off the train. Before I had even made it a block on the short walk to my hostel, an old guy passed me on the sidewalk and said “hello” as we passed. He gave just a “hello” and a smile, to a guy that had obviously just arrived in town. I sang that Mellencamp song in my head and smiled for the rest of the day.

I learned about Interlaken a few years ago when Dave and I were wandering through Queenstown, New Zealand. Our canyoning guide turned friend, Scotty, worked his winters in Queenstown and his summers in Interlaken.

I loved Queenstown and would put it on my very selective list of “Favorite Places In The World”. Interlaken would now be right next to it for obvious reasons. They are pretty much the same town. Scotty described Interlaken as the adventure sport capital of Europe and he was right. Seeing both cities in person now I can’t help but think that Scotty might have been the coolest person I have ever met. If I had a second life to burn I would definitely be following his career path.

It’s still the winter season here but spring is quickly rushing in. The weather has been amazing!! Every day is bright sunshine with cool air. A fleece and sunglasses are all you need. The winter season doesn’t offer all the adventure sport options that I would have liked, namely canyoning, but I’m far from disappointed. Hangliding, paragliding, canyon swings, skydiving, etc. are all still available.

My Mom will be happy though that my budget constraints on this trip have kept my feet on the ground. I debated long and hard on hang gliding today but in a rare instance the conservative side of my personality won. I decided I had splurged enough here on two full days of skiing. Well that and those two days of skiing, or rather learning how to ski, have left me physically beat up and drained.

I know, I know, probably not the wisest thing to do 3 days before a marathon but like I said, the conservative side rarely wins. Plus, I’m not sure if anyone has said this before but, bruises will fade, memories this powerful will last a lifetime! I might have to limp 26.2 miles on Sunday but I’ll have a smile on my face the whole time thinking about the 2 days I spent skiing in the Swiss Alps.

The two places I hit to ski, quite literally I’m afraid, were a short bus ride outside of Interlaken near the town of Grindelwald. After the bus it was a gondola ride to Firstbahn for day one and a train ride up the mountain to Kleine Scheidegg on the next day.

I rented pants, skis, and boots before I left town so when I hopped off the gondola there was nothing stopping me, again quite literally. I clicked on the skis and off I went. I managed to get the toes pointed enough to steer me toward a blue route. (Blue are the “easy” routes in Switzerland. Of course these are Swiss standards which seemed to mean there is nothing to hit. It has nothing to do with steepness of the run.)

Through probably sheer leg strength alone I managed to make it down my first run without killing myself, or someone else. It took about 30 minutes and my legs shook for 5 minutes after I came to a loud tumble near a restaurant area. Who knew snow could be so loud?

After a little rest and with new determination to go slow, I headed back up the ski lift. This time it took me an hour to get down but only through controlled, and some uncontrolled, wipe outs. I should point out here that I paid for two days of skiing before I even left the Villa on day one. So after two runs of impressive wipe outs and many more hours to ski I decided it was time for a lesson no matter the cost. It was a matter of protecting my investment as well as a life or death decision.

An hour with instructor Tina and I was off again. A snow plowing, tumbling, fool but I was definitely better. I improved on each run and am very proud to say that on my last run of day two I made it down without a single wipe out! Plus I made it down in 25 minutes cutting my previous runs down the same route in half. Good ol’ Blue run #22 & 24! I will never forget you! Even after you gave me the deepest bruise I have ever had. I will remember you long after it stops hurting, which is hopefully soon.

Interlaken has been more than just skiing though. I’ve had some beautiful hikes along the Aare River and Lake Brienzersee. I’m also staying at a great hostel, Backpackers Villa; nice, clean rooms, free Wi-Fi, a fully equipped kitchen, and even a membership at the town Health, Wellness, & Fitness Center. I have taken advantage of it a couple times, the Fitness part at least. Today I think I’m going to check out the Wellness side. I think they have a hot tub. Have I mentioned how sore I am?!

I’ve also saved some money this week by using the kitchen, exposing me to a new cultural experience; going grocery shopping in a foreign country and we’re not talking a little convenience store either. We are talking full size super market, or as big as they get in Interlaken.

The Swiss have 3 official languages, Swiss, German, and French. Depending what part of the country you are in determines which one is used more. Interlaken is kind of in the middle of the French/German area so it’s not uncommon to get a “Guten Tag” greeting with a “Merci” good bye.

The food labels usually have all 3 languages on them giving me more assistance on trying to figure out exactly what things are. It helped some. I figured out what ham was in a meat section where everything looked strange. I struck out on the water though and got 3 bottles of sparkling water which isn’t half bad once it goes a little flat. I guess it’s just regular water at that point, which could explain why I liked it.

My hostel hasn’t been great for making friends though. Most people stick to themselves. I have met some nice people while cooking but they have always been leaving the next day. One conversation with a young guy and girl from South Korea does stick out in my memory.

We talked about North Korea some. They don’t mind them bud don’t want re-unification because of what has happened in Germany. Basically they know it will shift resources in the South to help the stunted North. They know it’s selfish of the young to think this way but that doesn’t change what they think.

They like the U.S. but wish they got out of our shadow, politically, some. The girl told me a hilarious story that really impressed me. I won’t try to imitate her broken English accent but trust me it only gave the story more impact. She said they were recently in Copenhagen and a group of Europeans were sitting at the table next to them talking loudly. She said they were complaining about the U.S. and she wanted to interrupt them to point out that they were all wearing Nike!

That pretty much sums up most people’s feelings that I meet. They love the U.S. culture. They hate the U.S. foreign affairs. I wonder where, and why, the two became so different. It’s time to get back to “rock and roll and cola wars”.

I made some friends on the ski bus; Alex from Canada, Liz and Kate from New England. I’ve been keeping pretty quiet at night but I did meet up with Alex and Liz last night for some Rugen Brau’s at the Brassier 17 in the Happy Inn Lodge. We are supposed to meet up again tonight but I’ll admit to feeling a little worried about my current physical condition. In addition to all the sore muscles I just feel really worn down. I popped an Air Born this morning in an attempt to block off any bugs I have been susceptible to lately. Maybe this is just what getting older feels like?!

My time in Interlaken wraps up tomorrow when I hop the train to Zurich. After that it’s two days of sitting around and resting the legs. I hope that makes a difference. I guess I’ll find out soon enough.
MJF

Paris, France 25/3/07

I ran 20km in Paris yesterday. I had hoped it would be a memorable long run along the River Seine, past the Eiffel Tower, maybe even scoot over into the Bois de Boulogne, the City’s largest open space, according to the Rough Guide. Instead it was 20km on a treadmill looking out the window on another cold, rainy day in Paris. Thank God for iPods!

I guess it was still a memorable run though. I know I won’t forget it. Every single boring minute of it, watching figure skating on one TV or MTV dating shows on the other, is beaten into my mind. I had actually intended to do at least 25 km but then the gym manager came and told me they close at 7 p.m. on Saturday’s. “And I bet its Saturday isn’t it?” I said. “Oui,” was his only reply. I really need to start paying attention to what day it is. So at 6:45 pm I concluded I would not be getting my full run in that day. Paris had finally won.

That run fits right into how this current training cycle has gone for me. It’s been the same story for the last 8 weeks. There is always some reason why I didn’t get my miles done; snow in Chicago, events in WPB, flights every weekend, a seasonal cold that knocked out a week, blah, blah, blah. Basically the same problem I usually have, and probably in life too I suppose; focusing on one thing at a time.

I guess I should mention what this is all leading up to. I am signed up to run the Zurich Marathon, one week from today. I am really looking forward to the experience despite the disappointment in my training. I know I’ll finish. I was just hoping I would improve over my past marathons. At this point the legs just don’t feel like they should in order to maintain a PR pace so I’ve realized I’ll need to start out at a more conservative pace and hope I have a lot left in the tank at the end to maybe shave off some minutes.

OK, enough running babble, for now. I’m in Paris for crying out loud!

I have been here for the last 4 days. Before that I was in London for 3 days, 2 nights. I have seen some great historical sites but I would be lying if I said any of them really got me fired up. It has been more like places I knew I had to see but I wasn’t really passionate about them. They have all still been enjoyable experiences though.

As usual I have been on the go since I got off the plane. I’m hoping all the walking I’ve done will make up for the miles of running I’ve missed. In London I hit all the staples from Parliament, and most of the palaces, to the Tower Of London and the Tower Bridge. I rode around in a double decker bus and cruised down the Thames on a ferry. I think my favorite thing about London though was the open spaces. It has great parks! In fact the last time I remember seeing the Sun was 5 days ago when I laid down for a little nap under a tree in Kensington Gardens.

My nap spot wasn’t far from the hostel where I was staying and I was actually on my way to the Peter Pan Statue, a pilgrimage for me of sorts. It had been very cold the previous day. I guess it’s been a typical Spring in London with one week feeling close to Summer and the next closer to Winter. The blooming daffodils looked as confused as the people did when it started snowing one afternoon. So walking through the park that day I had a few layers of clothes on but with the bright Sun overhead it was downright cozy despite the occasional chilly breeze. As I passed the Round Pond the mood struck me to just lay down….so I did….one of the simple joys of wandering.

With my small backpack under my head, near a tree, a ducks quack away from Round Pond in Kensington Garden I slipped away to dream land for about 45 minutes. When I woke up I was refreshed and smiling. I strolled on with a bounce in my step. Off to find the statue of one of my hero’s, the boy who refused to grow up, Peter Pan.

I will be wandering Europe for close to 2 months and I’m trying to be as thrifty as possible. Not only is it point 9 of the Scout Law but I also just don’t have enough money to travel like a king, nor do I want too. So I’ve been staying in bunk room hostels so far. Not only are they cheap but I still don’t mind them. More of an adventure I guess. Probably much like Peter Pan would do if he was wandering. Hostels are full of Lost Boys and Girls just like me.

In London I celebrated my arrival with a few pints that night and met some college students from Denmark named Rasmus, Gates, and Camilla. We had the standard conversation that I have had with dozens of other international Backpackers but still never tire of. Where are you from? What is it like? Where have you been? What’s it like? What do you think of President Bush?

OK, that last one is usually just directed at me and usually kicks the conversation into high gear. I think Rasmus, who had the least confidence in his English, followed up the political topic with “Do you believe in God?” Uh oh! I thought for a second I might have stumbled into some kids doing mission work….in a bar! Camilla responded right away in Danish to him though in a tone that clearly spoke “Dude, you just don’t ask that to people you just met!” I said it was OK and then we all tip toed into a good bar discussion on God and organized religion.

It was a late, fun, night for the 4 of us and we met back up for a slightly more mellow evening the following night. More e-mails have been added to the Friends directory and I have an open invitation to visit Denmark. Not bad for just 48 hours into my trip.

The other friend I made in London is a friend of a friend. Actually it’s the son of a friend. When I sent out my standard itinerary e-mail, to the ever growing friends list, in hopes one of them might want to come along, Donna Baribeau responded that Dick, her husband, had a son that lived in London. She passed along the e-mail for Tim Baribeau and after a few notes back and forth between us to figure out schedules we met up at a little English pub for a pint and lunch.

I had only been traveling alone for a few days but the good conversation while enjoying a meal was already a nice alternative to eating alone. After the last 3 days in Paris, and trying to translate a menu by myself, I’m wishing more of my friends had kids scattered all over Europe waiting to go to lunch.

Tim’s a few years older than me with a wife and 3 kids. He’s been living in England now for over a decade. He said it was nice to have lunch with an American but for me it was like having lunch with a Londoner. As usual I had to explain my current life to him, an explanation that yielded almost the standard response “Good for you! I think that is fantastic!” It’s always nice to get some reassurance, from someone that was a perfect stranger 30 minutes ago, that you are on the right track in life.

We had a great talk about politics, the environment, and life in general. Again, it was a great lunch and one of the highlights of my trip so far. The chance to sit down and really talk to a new person is an opportunity not offered in any guidebook but highly more valuable than anything they offer. I’m glad Donna passed along his e-mail and I’m glad I was wise enough to use it.

Paris has been the same as London minus the new friends, mostly because of me. I haven't tried to make any. It was time to sightsee, get runs in, eat right, and get to bed early. Not your typical vacation in Paris I would agree but I reminded myself that I’m not on vacation in Paris. I’m living my life and these past 3 days have simply found me living my life in Paris. Hell, I spent 40 Euros just on gym fees here. That’s about the same as a month at my gym in WPB, so much for saving money.

I walked a lot in Paris, probably double what I covered in London. I also became a pro at the Metro but that didn’t stop me from wandering miles in any one direction. If anything my confidence with the Metro system liberated me. With a daily pass I always knew no matter how far away I got all I had to do was find the nearest Metro stairwell and zip back to my place.

I hit most of the major spots here in Paris whether it was raining or not. My assault on the Eiffel Tower alone was like getting motivated to summit a mountain. It was about 40 degrees without the wind chill and spitting rain. On the positive side I didn’t have to wait in line! The only thing that slowed me down from climbing the stairs was getting my gloves off and finding which layer of clothes held my money for the 4 Euros to climb. , and another 3.50 for the elevator to the top from level 2.

Before starting the accent I was confused at the ticket booth.
“Can’t I just climb all the way?” I asked innocently.
To which I got the snootiest “NO CLIMB!” response, in the thickest French accent, from the ticket lady in her cozy glass box. I suppose she gets that question a lot but I still chuckled to myself and imitated her “NO CLIMB!” response all the way to level 2.

I enjoyed seeing the Arc de Triumph a lot for some reason. Again it was raining but I still just stood there staring at it for several minutes. I had my iPod on and was again bundled up so the slow rain didn’t really bother me. I stood there for a long time just watching the cars circle by and admiring the strength of the monument. Eventually someone tapped me on the shoulder to help them take a picture and I was brought back to reality. They offered to take one of me too which I accepted and then I headed back to my trusty Metro stairs not far away.

The Louvre was a nice distraction from the weather.
- Pause-
You know as I write this I realize I didn’t take any pictures of the outside of The Louvre. God $(#@&@#!!! Not a single picture of what I call the Da Vinci Code Pyramid. It was raining, as I might have mentioned. I figured I had 2 more days. I would get a better shot later. Well now I’m at the train station so I guess that’s not going to happen. Oh well, I did get some of the inverted pyramid inside. I’ll just have to rely on my actual memory to remind me of what the main entrance to The Louvre looks like.

Funny how for all the historical, priceless, art housed in The Louvre it’s a pop literature work from 2003 that popped in my head first, both when viewing in person or writing about The Louvre. A sign of the times I guess.

I checked out the sculpture section first only to be confused why the Venus de Milo wasn’t located in the “Sculpture” section. Either way it was a nice way for me to get motivated enough to follow the sheep to the Mona Lisa.

By the end of a few hours, about 6 to 7 come to think of it, I had seen pretty much everything or at least every highlighted picture on my map of the Louvre. I had been walking around for so long with my audio head set on I almost forgot to return it. I was on the escalator to the exit when I realized I still had it on my head. I had to pretend I was just looking around and not actually leaving so the staff didn’t harass me.

Despite the less than ideal weather I still liked Paris and admire it. With constant gray skies, intermittent rain, and the historic architecture in every direction I felt like I was in a Alexander Dumas or Victor Hugo novel. Not that it rained throughout their books mind you, more of the tone and setting I suppose. I just can’t imagine the Bastille on a nice sunny day. That’s when you go look at water lilies and sit in the park for Monet.

My departure from Paris has been just as challenging as my sightseeing. The reason I have had the time to write this entry today in Paris is because I missed my train this morning. I wish I could say it was because I slept in. In that case I would be stupid but well rested. Instead for some reason my watch was suddenly an hour slow this morning. When I got to the station it wasn’t 6:45 a.m. it was 7:45 a.m. and on some unknown track my train was pulling away. So now I’m just stupid and tired!

The screw up only cost me time though and thanks to my Eurail Pass it didn’t cost me any money to get on a 1 p.m. train. I now have to take a local train too with a few more connections to make before I reach my final destination. It will just get me better acclimated to the European rail system and stations, which will be my only source of travel for at least the next month.

My destination? Always “the second star to the right and straight on ‘til morning.”
MJF