So, What Was Your Favorite Part of Klaipeda?

Day 2 in Lithuania started out predictably slowly, given that Anders and I are not morning people. The only thing that saved us from sleeping away the morning was a general respect for the other person. Well, I suppose I should only speak for myself though I’m pretty sure Anders would have happily slept longer too.

My favorite graffiti in Vilnius.

Our breakfast at the hotel was as delicious as the day before and we discussed our plans while sipping our caffeinated beverages. My idea was that we should rent a car and drive across the country to Klaipeda, the main port city of Lithuania, which is located in the Zemaitia region where my great-grandparents immigrated from. Months before, as I was planning this trip, I somehow got it in my head that it would be completely reasonable to rent a car and drive 3 hours to do this. Anders was nonchalant in his opinion as I would be the one driving and he would literally be along for the ride.

The other reason I wanted to go to Klaipeda, which developed in Kosova, was to visit a church member and friend of the Freys. Steve and Lisa sent Shaban off to college in fall of 2008 with their blessing and they get to see him only when he can come back to Kosova, which is about once a year. Lisa and Shaban’s mother both gave me goodies to bring to Shaban while I was in Lithuania. So, not only was I going to drive to see Zemaitia, I was going to meet someone I had never met before and in a city I had never been before. Perfectly reasonable, right?

First things first. We picked up a couple car rental brochures from the hotel staff and wandered off to pack and decide which company would get our money. We went with “Auto Banga” and told the lady at the desk who arranged the whole deal over the phone in Lithuanian. The company representative brought us a red Ford Focus and assured us that we could indeed just drop off the car at the airport in Vilnius the following day. (Ah yes, the reasonable thing to do was to drive to Klaipeda one day and then drive back to Vilnius the following morning in order to catch our flight out at 3 p.m.)

Anders and the silver Focus.

We were merrily on our way out of town by 12:30 p.m. after only one real driving mishap where I went down a street where only buses were authorized. Anders was navigating next to me and asked me so kindly not to kill him while driving. Anyway, after successfully finding our way to the highway by using a tourist map and an ancient, wrinkled, and over-creased glove compartment road map, Anders received a call on his cell from Auto Banga. The representative told him that he was going to have to bring us a new car because the yearly maintenance check on our red Focus had expired and if we got pulled over we would have to pay a major fine. Oh great!

After about 35 minutes of waiting, we received a silver Focus and were on our way again. My navigator decided that after getting me on the right road that his job was done so he fell asleep. Here I was driving across Lithuania, in a light rain, with a sleeping friend, while listening to American hip-hop on the radio. I could not help but laugh and enjoy the moment! I also took a few countryside photos while driving which were mostly of fields, trees, and the occasional road sign. The country looked quite a bit like the Midwest actually.

After waking up after an hour, Anders kept me company by responding to questions like, “What was your favorite birthday present?” We jabbered on until we started to see Klaipeda in the distance where he then had to navigate again. Fortunately, I had written down Shaban’s address and Anders’ great map skills got us to within a quarter mile or so of his dorm. (Yeah, that’s old school for you – no GPS needed!)

Shaban played the perfect host by navigating us to the dorm we would be staying in, getting us all signed in, and getting us an even better deal on the price to stay the night. We each had our own huge dorm room with linens provided and my room even had a full kitchen. The building was old and felt a bit “Soviet” in style, but it was clean, comfortable, and very warm.

Shaban and I toasting in Klaipeda.

We three walked around the city a bit to try to see some of the sights. It was quite windy (we were by the sea) and pretty dark (it was around 7 p.m.). Eventually we landed ourselves at a nice restaurant and had dinner and drinks. I enjoyed chatting with Shaban and filling him in on life in Kosova. There wasn’t much else to do after dinner other than hit up a grocery store to pick up some breakfast items for our early departure.

Shaban met us in the morning, lamenting that we couldn’t stay longer to see the city he now calls home. I was sad too, but knew we had to go in order to make it to the airport on time. We packed up our car, a mere 16 hours after arriving and took off to Vilnius. Anders promised to stay awake this time and had come up with some good questions the night before to keep us talking. The topic of the drive was weddings, honeymoons, and traditions. (Did you know that in Sweden that both the man and woman get an engagement ring?)

A lonely bus stop.

Both on the way to Klaipeda and back, we both noticed random bus stops on the highway. I would have to slow down to about 45 mph or so while passing these cement benches on the side of the road. There were some that seemed to literally be in the middle of nowhere. We would look on both sides of the road and see a small village off in the distance, about ¾ of a mile or so away, across a field and through the woods. That’s quite a walk to catch a bus.

We weren’t terribly concerned about finding our way to the airport once we got into Vilnius because we both thought there should be some significant signage to guide us. Ha! Assume nothing in a country that has a monument to Frank Zappa. Eventually, after squinting and turning our heads quickly we saw a tiny little airplane, with an arrow, in the corner of a sign. After turning on the road we thought would be correct, we drove along looking for another sign. We both started to sweat after half a mile until another baby airplane symbol showed up to guide us. After a few turns, none of which were the wrong way, thanks again to my awesome navigator, we made it the airport.

Our next task was to find the Auto Banga drop off location. I drove up to the “car rental return” lot and discovered that every other car rental company except ours was represented. The man at the booth, in broken English, managed to tell Anders that we didn’t belong there and that we had to go to somewhere else. Of course, he couldn’t tell us where that somewhere else was. At this point Anders is irritated, I’m hungry, and we just want to get on a plane back to Sweden where there are proper rental car companies and proper airport signs. I drove around the tiny airport loop at least 10 times while Anders, bless him, called Auto Banga. The person on the other end of the phone told us to park in lot B and return the keys to the desk inside the terminal. Groan. I drove us over to the lot, took a handful pictures of the car in case we had to prove we filled up the tank and didn‘t damage it, and off we scurried into the airport.

Once again we had the longest wait to pick up our boarding passes. I wanted to send a few postcards and pick up some things in the souvenir shop. Anders and I split up – he took the postcards to the postbox, which was hard to find due to unclear signs, while I jammed over to the gift shop. We met up again, went through security, and got on our plane.

All in all, Lithuania was a great adventure. Anders and I survived each other, the rich food, the weather, and Auto Banga. Shall we do it again next year?

The open road of Lithuania. Let's do it again?

 

Finding Frank in Vilnius

To start with, let me give a shout out to my friend, Anders, who so graciously agreed to accompany his slightly crazy American friend to Lithuania. When I asked him several months ago if he would go with me, he nonchalantly said “yes” with the adventurous attitude of “Why not? I’ve never been to a Baltic country before”. (I can only wonder if now those words haunt him.)

We were scheduled to depart out of Stockholm’s Arlanda airport at 7 p.m. on a Monday night. When we arrived at the ticket counter to get our boarding passes, we discovered that every passenger that had booked that flight was booted out of the system and each had to wait several minutes while the very friendly agent rebooked each of us on the flight. I think Anders and I both had the same sense of foreboding.

Despite the snag in Arlanda, we arrived in Vilnius on time – right before midnight. In the waiting area of the Vilnius airport there were at least 15 mean looking taxi drivers holding up signs. I scanned each surly face and sign, found my name and hotel, and off we went to Hotel Tilto. No polite conversation from our driver, but he got us safely and quickly to our hotel. Getting the taxi to pick up us was totally worth every bit of my 12 euro.

The next day we went downstairs to enjoy our complimentary continental breakfast. I specifically chose a hotel with breakfast included because 1. I didn’t want to pay for another meal, and 2. I am not a morning person and would most likely just skip breakfast if I had to go out and find it. I have to say I was completely happy with our hotel’s breakfast selection – it was not the standard American “bagel and coffee” breakfast. There were 4 kinds of juice, coffee, tea, fish, meats, cheeses, breads, oatmeal, eggs, and more. We filled up our tanks and were ready to seize the day in Vilnius.

The church at the end of the street.

Anders grabbed a couple maps for us at the hotel front desk, asked a few questions about what to see, and out the door we went. The first thing we saw, at the end of the street, was a church with a Greco-Roman style entrance and statues on the roof holding a gilded cross. Very flashy and very unlike the other churches I had seen in Kosovo, Germany, and Sweden.

After wandering around the church, taking pictures, and trying to be respectful of the worshippers there, we trekked up the hill to the remaining tower of Vilnius’ ancient castle. The road was paved with cobblestones that were not worn down at all, which meant eventually I ended up walking on the retaining wall to try to keep my feet from tiring out too early in the day. The castle tower held a wonderful museum, with assorted artifacts from Lithuania’s history. Shiny suits of armor, deadly weapons, ancient Vilnius in miniature, and Lithuania’s story of independence were all on display.

Once back down the hill, we looked at our map, looked at the city ahead of us, looked at the map again, and then just decided to walk toward the next interesting building. Fortunately Anders and I have the same approach to sightseeing – we see something off in the distance and walk toward it. (This leads to much being seen, sometimes walking in circles, and being especially appreciative of any chance to sit down.)

The Catholic church where we walked in on a service.

We walked into old town Vilnius and into a world of cathedrals, churches, graffiti covered walls, and narrow streets with fast drivers. Each church or cathedral we went into was different from the last one and I was surprised at the number of actual worshippers in each one. Lithuania is still a strongly religious country as we found out firsthand after stumbling into a service at one of the cathedrals. We stood off by a pillar in the back and watched the people walk in, genuflect, and cross themselves. At one point, a whole gaggle of children came in with their teachers and all of them dropped to one knee in unison, Father-Son-Holy Spirit-ed themselves, and then ran off to different parts of the church. After about 20 minutes or so of observing and trying to figure out what was going on, Anders leaned down to whisper that he was falling asleep standing up and asked if I was ready to go. I nodded in affirmation and remembered a bit of my brief Catholic upbringing – we had better leave before mass actually starts or we’ll be there for at least an hour!

There he is - Frank Zappa.

At some point during the day, we did stop by the tourist information center to pick up some more pamphlets. I learned that somewhere the city there was a monument to Frank Zappa. Frank Zappa? Really? This I had to find. Anders gamely navigated our way to find Frank in Vilnius, and find him we did. He was off on a side street, hanging out in front of a graffiti mural of other great rock ‘n’ roll musicians. I have to say that seeing a Frank Zappa monument in the middle of Vilnius was of the most random things ever.

After finally finding Frank, and seeing lots of other interesting things along the way, we decided to head back to our hotel to rest and then venture out again for something to eat. At lunchtime, we tried to find some authentic looking Lithuanian restaurant, but ended up at a nice Hungarian place since neither of us could understand either Lithuanian or Hungarian. For dinner, the hotel conveniently provided a listing of “real” Lithuanian restaurants. We chose a place called “Cili Kaimas” (pronounced “chili kie-mus” – the “c“ is supposed to have a “smile“ over it) because we had seen the restaurant a few times during our sightseeing loops around the city.

Cili Kaimas reminded me quite a bit of the chain restaurant, Chili’s, in the U.S. Even the sign had a green and red chili on it. Of course, the food was nothing like Chili’s. I had some strange, but delicious, concoction called “Pork Beef Bird” while Anders had potato dumplings that were apparently very similar to a dish he could only find in northern Sweden. My meal consisted of a giant pork and beef meatball with a chopped boiled egg and spinach in the middle – kind of like turducken, but on a smaller scale and probably less fattening (I hope). Anders was so happy with his meal, he ordered it two more times over the rest of our trip.

Day one came to end in Lithuania and we plotted our next day. I will save the next day and a half’s happenings for another post. That vague sense of foreboding that Anders and I had in Arlanda – you’ll get to read about that soon.

 

Michigan Travels

I realize it’s been 9 days since my last post. In these past 9 days, I have flown back to the U.S., stayed a night in Boston, flown to Detroit, visited friends there, traveled to Grand Rapids, and visited more friends there. Tonight my parents will drive down, through the current blizzardy weather, to pick me up and take me home to lovely Paris, Michigan.

I will soon have time to sit back down at a keyboard and recount my adventures to you. I have a Lithuanian blog started and definitely have more to write about Iceland. Michigan travels will also be documented with glee.

Come back soon!

 

Speedbumps, Roundabouts, and Outdoor Naps

I know I have written about my Lithuanian adventures yet, but I will save that for another day. I wanted to write a bit about Iceland, while I am still in Iceland, even if for only a few more hours (sniff!).

The view out of my bedroom window.

My first impression of Iceland was of the near barrenness of the place. I looked out the airplane window and saw black rocks with some washed out green on them, mountains that looked like they belonged in AZ, and a seemingly complete lack of trees. I couldn’t wait to get down on the ground and really check the place out.

My friend Friða picked me up at the airport at around 3:30 in the afternoon and I expected it to soon become dark outside. Afterall, I had just been in Sweden and at around 3:45 it was dark; since I was farther north, it should have been dark already, right? Nope. I failed to remember my high school science. The farther north, the shorter the day in the winter, and shorter from both ends. As in, the sun comes up later in the morning and sets earlier in the evening. I found this out firsthand when the next morning I slept in quite late because the sun isn’t fully out until about 11 a.m.

The next thought I had about Iceland was that Icelanders must be fast drivers. Why else would there be speedbumps on nearly every side street? And these aren’t little American ones either. If you had a small enough car and not enough momentum, you could stuck on top of one of these mountains. Friða agreed and expressed her annoyance as we flew over the next speed mountain in the road.

As we were driving along, Friða pointed out the next Icelandic sight: roundabouts. “Have you noticed how many roundabouts there are here?” Ah, yes, there are many of these little circles of driving fun. So, not only do Icelanders like to drive fast, they also have a clear disdain for stop signs, which makes sense from the speeding point of view. Why stop, when you can just yield and throw yourself into a circle? (Another night we were out driving and Friða pointed out that there were 8 roundabouts between her house and her parents’ – only a 5-10 minute drive away.)

Two days after arriving, we went over to Friða’s in-laws for lunch after church. We had a delicious traditional Icelandic meal of … hamburgers. I have to say that my burger was one of the best burgers I have had. The beef tasted a bit different, in a good way. Maybe it was lacking all the wonderful growth hormones that American cows are stuck full of.

Standing under a statue of Lief Ericsson and in front of Iceland's tallest church.

Outdoor napping.

Anyway, after lunch, Friða bundled up her son, Stefnir (1 1/2 years old), for a nap. She wrapped him up like a little marshmallow with legs and commented to me, “You know that we put our babies outside to sleep, right?” Uh…no, I failed to recall this Icelandic tradition. That’s right folks, little Icelanders are put outside, year round, for their afternoon naps. They are bundled up, tucked into a carriage, covered, and wheeled outdoors. I was totally amused and could see the logic in this one. Yup, stick’em outside, let them breathe some good air, cry a bit, and fall asleep to the outdoor sounds. I asked Friða, her sister-in-law, and mother-in-law about the origins of this tradition – they all said that they weren’t exactly sure why the babies sleep outside, but it probably started because  ancient Icelandic homes were moldy and damp and the air outside was better than the air inside.

Iceland is one cool country (pun sorta intended). I am sure I have to come back here in the summer and see it when it’s green and a tad warmer. I will be writing more about my adventures when I get back to the States. But now, I must double check my luggage, passport, etc., etc. Check back soon!

 

Down With the Ship

A 1:12 scale model of the Vasa.

The Saturday I was in Stockholm, Anders and I took a trip over to the Vasa Musuem, arguably Stockholm’s most famous museum. I had read about the Vasa before I traveled and thought it would be worth a trip to see. Afterall, it made it on the NY Times best museums of the world, or something like that.

(Let me first note that the night before, Anders and I had walked all over Stockholm. We were trying to figure out something to do or see and ended walking around and then seeing a movie (The Box). Stores in Stockholm only stay open until about 7 p.m., so cruising merchandise was not an option.  By the time we went to sleep, I was pretty tired.)

Back to the Vasa. We woke up “early” and enjoyed a breakfast of tea and bread, then hopped on the subway to a harbor to catch a ferry to the museum. It was a cold, drizzly day so it really was a good day to wander about indoors. The ride over to the island was nice and a cherub-faced little 18 month old boy in a stroller decided to play footsies with me. Too cute!

After paying my 900 SEK, I walked into a giant room where the Vasa loomed overhead like a giant toy. It was a little shocking to realize that this was it – the entirety of the musuem’s attraction was right in front of me. I didn’t have to travel to little rooms, waiting for the next artifact to see. It was right there, looming overhead in the cool, dimly lit room.

The ships many carvings were painted very brightly.

The Vasa is a 17th century ship that sank on it’s maiden voyage in the Stockholm harbor. King Gustavus Aldophus wanted to show the world how amazing Sweden was and had an incredibly narrow, ornate, and well-armed ship made. That, of course, was it’s downfall. It was too narrow, had too many cannon ports, and maybe a little too much pride to sail. After less than a nautical mile, it sank and at least 15 people perished. That must have been an utterly shocking sight to see for all the people who crowded on shore to see the amazing flag ship Vasa set sail for the first time.

Anders and I saw the short informational film first thing, and both of us nearly slept through it (remember, we were tired from the day before). Next we joined a tour in English, where we were pretty much told everything we heard in the film, but had to climb flights of stairs to hear it. After that we decided to look at all the displays, where we saw more things we learned about either in the film or from our lovely tour guide. At about 2 p.m., we turned our exhausted faces to each other and agreed it was time to leave the Vasa. We walked over a bridge into Stockholm and caught a bus to find some food.

In front of the Vasa.

With our stomachs full, our brains brimming with Vasa facts, we made our way back to the apartment. After about 30 minutes, I couldn’t take it anymore and wandered off to the couch to lay down for a bit. Two hours later, I woke up to see Anders passed out on his bed. Four hundred years later, the Vasa still took people down with the ship.

 

Fika

A mostly drank cup of Swedish coffee. Notice the darkness of this stuff. Mmmhmm!

“Fee-kah” has to be one of the best words in the Swedish language. Or any language.

The 3rd night I was in Sweden, Anders took me to his friend Jonas’ house for a housewarming party. Jonas fed everyone a very tasty taco pie meal with salad and drinks. I had seconds – it was GOOD. Then, about an hour or so later someone gleefully exclaimed that it was time for “fika”. My new friend Elinor asked me if I knew what fika was, to which I replied in the negative. Gasping in shock, she looked at Anders and promptly scolded him for not schooling me in this fika thing.

Fika, in short, is a coffee break. Yet, it is much more than a coffee break. You must have Swedish coffee (I am now officially re-addicted to coffee thanks to all this) or tea if you like, and some sort of delectable dessert. The more lucious and rich, the better. You must pause everything, slowly enjoy your coffee and goody, and chat. You should have fika at least 3 times a day, more often is better. I am sure that Tolkien got his idea for the hobbit tradition of 2nd and 3rd breakfast from the Swedes.

A scrumptious cookie.

As you can imagine, I dove right into this fika business. Another reason to eat? Let’s do it! And, not only do you enjoy fika for fika’s sake, but you also start planning what your next meal will be. (Tina and I have been doing this for years – talking about our next meal while eating the current meal. Who knew I would go to the motherland of meal planning?)

The next few days in Sweden, and then in Lithuania, I made sure I used my new word as often as I could. “Anders, I like fika!” “Anders, is it time for fika?” “Anders, can I verbify the word fika?” (Yes, you can – it’s both a verb and a noun.)

I’ll be bringing back fika to the U.S. I think many of us Americans have some sort of fika in our lives, but truly, we should add it to our meal planning on a whole new level. Well, other than my parents – they have pretty much mastered this concept. No wonder I could plunge into fika so easily…

Fika in the Riga, Latvia airport during our layover going back to Sweden from Lithuania.(Sadly, the Latvian coffee was the worst I had. Ick!)

 

Hej, Hey!

“So why are you here in November?!”

That is by far the most common question I had been asked by the Swedes I  met while in Stockholm. They all said that I visited their country at the worst time of year – cold, cloudy, rainy.

Actually, I rather like being in Europe this time of year. Of course, I haven’t been to Europe before, so I don’t really have any other comparison. The weather and lack of sunlight (it’s dark by 3:45) gives me a much more complete picture of Sweden, I think. If I enjoy my time here now, when it’s not “ideal”, then I have much to look forward to if and when I return, right?

City Hall - where they award Nobel prizes

Most of the time that answer satisfied their curiousity and solicited many invitations to return in the summer. Sounds good to me!

My friend Anders had been working while I was visiting and therefore I was free to traverse Stockholm on my own. The public transportation system was very simple and efficient and I had been able to see all kinds of sights. The first few hours I was in Stockholm, I hoofed it on over to the closest H&M store for an hour or so. Which brings me to the title…

“Hey, hey!” said the woman at the H&M register.

Huh? ‘My, they’re friendly and casual here’, was my thought. But, “hej” (pronounced like ‘hey’) is the Swedish word for hello. It took me awhile to figure that one out. I just said ‘hello’ back because I know they would start speaking to me in Swedish and that would get awkward, fast.

One of 5 H&M stores within a block or two.

I picked out a fun shirt and a warm sweater at H&M after about an hour or so in the store. I walked out of the store 500 SEK poorer, but oh so much wealthier in culture. Eventually, I ended up returning the sweater and bought a warm pair of gloves, but still felt like I conquered a tiny bit of the fashion world.

The following day (Friday) Anders had to work again. The night before he pulled out my newly acquired map of Stockholm and pointed out his subway stop, the stop for downtown, and the stop for Gamla Stan (old town Stockholm). Then he wrote down his street address, made sure I had his phone number, and gave me his blessing. After he went to work, I had a leisurely breakfast, then pulled on my shiny black boots, and took off. I was on my own in Stockholm.

I got off the subway at Gamla Stan, pulled out my map, and started walking in the direction that looked most interesting. I walked up narrow cobbled streets until I found a beautiful church. I passed through the iron gates and nearly tipped myself backward looking up to the top of the spire. After recovering from the kink in my neck, I headed off in another interesting direction. After winding through the streets, one of which had a ‘troll’ on it, I found myself at the harbor. I paused on one of the benches and turned the camera around and took a self portrait. (It was a little strange at times to stop and take a picture of myself; I must have definitely looked like a tourist.)

By the boats

I managed to find my way back to Anders’ apartment on the subway and learned the word ‘nasta’ very quickly (it means ‘next’, as in ‘next stop’). That evening we walked down the street to a Mexican restaurant for dinner, where I could not, for the life of me, remember any Spanish. I guess 6 weeks in 3 different countries will do that. Anyway, we enjoyed a delicious dinner and then walked to downtown Stockholm. The stores closed quite early (7 p.m.) so we were left with the age old question, ‘What should we do now?’ Anders had the brilliant idea: watch a movie. We found ‘The Box’ which was showing  in English, but subtitled in Swedish. During the movie we snacked on salty candy – salty candy, especially licorice, is the sweet treat of choice in Sweden. I had something brown, octopus shaped, covered in salt, and tasted a little like mild brown sugar. An unexpected and painful consequence of salty candy: really, really sore teeth. I had to chew some gum to dull the pain which only completely disappeared after sleeping that night. Ow!

Many more adventures happened in Sweden, but this enty is long enough. So, I’ll save the Vasa and fika for another day. Stay tuned!

Santa troll on the bridge in Gamla Stan

Gamla Stan

 

Where in the World is Alicia?

It’s been over a week since I last had a moment or two to update my blog. I have a few moments now to give you a brief update and a couple of teasers regarding my next travel writings. 

Today I returned from a brief trip to Lithuania. I’ll be sure to tell you all about “Finding Frank in Vilnius”…

Tonight is my last night in Sweden. I’ll have a fun update on “hey, hey” and the best Swedish word I learned: “fika”.

And, finally, tomorrow I will be flying off to my final European nation – Iceland. As my time on the continent comes to a close, I definitely feel sad. I have had such a wonderful time with all my friends and being able to see where they live. I will most certainly have to come back!

Stay tuned for more updates…

 

 

 

 

 

Berg and Burg

Germany is full of towns ending in -bach, -berg, or -burg. Curiousity struck me, of course, and on our way to Rothenburg yesterday, I asked my friend Margrete what the difference was.

A “bach” is a (small river) valley area, “berg” is a mountainous area, and a “burg” is an area with a castle. This all means I’m staying in a valley area (Ansbach), visited a hilly area (Nuremberg), and traveled to a castle-type city (Rothenburg).

This past weekend I took a trip to Nuremberg with my friend Sebastian. I met Sebastian in Santa Barbara a few years ago when he was attending UCSB for a couple of quarters. I emailed him several months back and asked if he’d like to meet up with me while I was in his country.

In front of St. Lorenz church in Nuremberg

Sebastian drove up from Switzerland last Friday night so we could get together on Saturday. Our first idea was to go to Munich, but I wasn’t feeling all that well so instead we went to nearby Nuremberg. Incidentally, he had never been there neither and so the two of us explored the city with equal cluelessness. It was tremendous fun!

After exploring the old part of the city, which is completely enclosed by a thick stone wall, Sebastian had the brilliant idea to go bowling. He grabbed his phone, call the German equivalent of 4-1-1, stopped by a hotel to get directions, and off we went to “Brunswick Bowling Center”. Once we arrived, we took advantage of the half hour wait to enjoy a couple of glasses of the “national” beverage. I have to report that is was served cold – not warm as legend would say. Of course, I was in an bowling alley and perhaps that is just how it’s served there.

Nuremberg castle. Sebastian and I went to the top of the tower.

We bowled 3 games, mostly because we got a little competitive and just had to see who would win. I won 2 of the 3 games, but if you combine the points of all 3 games, then Sebastian won. Regardless of the final scores, we had a great time.

We left Nuremberg after getting turned around at least 3 or 4 times – fortunately Sebatian and I have the same travel philosophy: just drive around until you figure out where you are. After stopping at Burger King (the buns taste different), I got back to John and Margrete’s at around 1:30 in the morning. Many, many thanks to Sebastian for such a great time!

Sebastian and I leaving our mark in Nuremberg.

The next city I visited was Rothenburg. This trip was just Margrete and I; it was a great girls’ day out. After seeing Rothenburg, I now know where story book illustrations come from. My goodness – it was stunning! Like Nurembergh, the city is also completely enclosed by a stone wall, complete with watch towers and walkways all along the top.

In Rothenburg square.

Rothenburg was built in the middle ages and at one time, it was a major center for Germany. Unlike many German towns, it actually survived WWII nearly unscathed (compared to Nuremberg, which was 90% destroyed). We walked up and down the cobblestoned streets, stopped in little tourist shops, and took pictures.

Right before we left, we stopped in a restaurant for lunch. I ended up getting the famous wiener schnitzel, fried potatoes, and a coke. To be completely honest, I didn’t know what exactly this famous German dish was, until it showed up in front of me. Battered, deep-fried pork slices are amazingly delicious and I highly recommend it.

Getting ready to eat my wiener schnitzel!

Margrete and I left Rothenberg for home and took another scenic route through the countryside. It’s so beautiful here, even with the grey weather. I am reminded quite a bit of Michigan and it’s a lovely homey feeling to be here, even for only just week.

My knight in shining armor.

 

Timing is Everything

A view down John and Margrete's street

After 13 hours of travel, I arrived at my friends’ house in Ansbach, Germany at 10:30 at night. My flights went very well; no major or even minor disasters. I managed to eat enough – the quiche lorraine and salad in Dusseldorf airport was amazing – and sleep a bit on all 3 flights.

I am here visiting my dear friend Margrete, her husband John, and their 3 beautiful daughters – Elizabeth (9), Sarah (7), and Victoria (2). Margrete and I met 8 or 9 years ago, when I was an intern with UCF at UCSB. She and her husband attended UCF on Thursday nights when they could and also went to South Coast Church on Sundays. Margrete and I soon became friends and I helped her by babysitting baby Elizabeth, cleaning her house, and editing her papers. She had decided to get her Masters in Education at UCSB and since English is not her native language, Norwegian is, she welcomed my editing help. I was always happy to help her and spend time with her and her family.

John and Margrete moved to Germany 5 years ago and the invitation was always open for me to come visit. We had always been in contact, as Margrete decided to go for her PhD and asked me to continue editing her papers. So, when it came time for me to plan this trip, Margrete was one of the first people who came to mind to stay with on my journey.

The "editor" at work...

I have to marvel at God’s timing with my being here in Germany at this exact time. Margrete’s dissertation is due at the end of this week and, lo and behold, I am here to help her. John, Margrete, and I are all blown away by this. I am so happy to be able to be here and lend my assistance, while getting to see where my dear friends live in Germany.

These past few days have been spent mostly inside their lovely home with the occasional walk around the neighborhood. We went to Aldi the other night to buy some groceries and I scored a great pair of warm, black boots with fuzzy lining. The weather has been quite conducive to staying inside – blustery, windy, rainy – and I don’t mind one bit.

The church down the street with a beautiful rainbow after the rain.

After Margrete hits the “send” button for her dissertation email tomorrow, we are all going to celebrate by going to a nearby castle for dinner. I think castle dining will be perfect timing!