Wilkommen im Deutschland

Joyce and I looked for a picture of the Alps for the background for the blog, but all of them were copyrighted, except one, a photo I took from the plane flying from Nice to Dusseldorf in 2008, as we were ending trektofrance. It doesn't show up anyway, so... never mind,

We left Richmond at a little after 2 p.m. on August 29 and flew to Atlanta (this route seemed perfectly reasonable in June when we planned it) where we nearly missed our 5:30 plane to Stuttgart because we were having lunch (breakfast for Robin) and had no idea that they were already boarding. One thing about getting on the plane just as they are closing the doors, there's no crowd!
So now we are recovering from "jet lag" in Stuttgart,
or more accurately, in Bad Cannstatt, a community known for its mineral springs.

Peter, our friend who was born near here, tells of taking his scooter (they didn't own a bicycle) to the spring here to get sparkling water that his family drank instead of cola or such. We saw the "spa" today - it's across the street from the hotel, but we didn't go in.

After a hearty meal (Schniztle, Spaetzle, Goulasch, Bier, salad and bread)

we wandered around the area near the restaurant

 and found a couple of fountains and tried the water. "Sehe gut!"


Joyce's version:

 Travel, the way we do it, is not easy. I keep thinking back to the movie, A League of Their Own, when Geena Davis tells Tom Hanks she is quitting the team because it is too hard. He tells her that hard is what makes it great. I'm banking on that. Our travels keep us on our toes and require a whole different set of skills than those we practice daily.

 Ah, the "joys" of airplane travel abroad--security, customs, lines, rushing, not to mention little ones in the seat immediately behind us continually whining and screeching on this nine-hour trip!  They were sweet ones and what was their mother to do besides comfort them?! We flew from Richmond to Atlanta, only to get on a plane there and fly back over Richmond, losing about five hours in the process. I wonder why we didn't fly to DC or NYC and head out from a northern city for Germany. 

We arrived in Stuttgart at 1:30 a.m. our time in the U.S. and 7:30 a.m. German time, picked up a Ford at Hertz, and headed on our round-about way to find our hotel, an interesting adventure when you don't know the language. Our GPS lady, who talked to us in polite English with a German accent, had us traveling up and down over major highways and small side streets in what seemed like a very indirect way of getting us to our destination. When we made a wrong turn, thankfully she did not say "recalculating," but just started from scratch. I drove and had a hard time figuring out what to do when she would say, "Proceed 60 meters and prepare to turn left soon." I wished I'd listened better to the metric system in Mrs. Caltrider's 8th grade math class.  Robin tells me it is now Saturday morning—I’m still operating as if it is Thursday because we have only had catnaps since we left Richmond.

The first thing that struck me about Stuttgart was how much it reminded me of Pittsburgh—lots of hills with houses and other buildings covering them.

This section of Stuttgart, Bad Cannstatt, has many quaint villages with shops, restaurants, and biergartens. The narrow streets, lined with tall, painted buildings, twist around with little alleyways going in different directions, and generally have massive churches at their center.

Of course, because we do not know the language, we don’t know what kind of churches they are.

Late this afternoon, we happened upon an outdoor restaurant with a vast menu. We hadn’t eaten since a light breakfast on the plane at midnight (Richmond time) last night. I knew I could get by in Germany because the few food words that I know are “schnitzel”and spaetzle, and I like both. I did not know about the hearty servings they would send our way. I ordered rahmschnitzel (pork with a wonderful sauce full of huge mushrooms), which, along with the spaetzle, filled a platter—enough for several diners.

The spaetzle reminded me of my Aunt Minnie’s homemade noodles that we enjoyed on special occasions growing up and also our friend, Nancy Fundinger’s homemade spaetzle.  I had to leave over half on the plate; Robin was working on his own goulash.

 The biggest adjustment for me, as it was the last time we came to Europe, is that there is no iced tea!  Those who know me know about my tea.  I keep a glass or cup going all day long.  In fact, once again, there is no ice.  They do not serve ice; the hotels do not provide ice buckets or an ice machine. I ordered a “Coke Lite” and it came in a glass without ice, although it was moderately cold, but not very.

Also, as I said in a past blog, most hotels in Europe have no wash cloths but, this time, I brought my own.  It’s funny what you get used to.  I did not, however, bring shampoo, and none is provided.  Just little differences in the style of living and major differences in communication.