First Visit to a Motherland

My Great Great Great Great Grandfather Andreas Eidelwein was born in Bavaria some time ago, although I did not see him there on this, my first visit to the great nation of Germany. So on May 25 (I had to refer back to my journal for this date, as I'm writing about five weeks after the fact now), just after sunrise, I entered the small city of Freiburg in the Southwestern corner of Germany and detrained at the station.

As I waited on the platform, I had an awkward conversation with a painfully drunk local, which ended as soon as I saw my friend Franziska, whom I had not seen since our travels together ended in Moscow a few weeks prior. I was happy to see a familiar face and we headed back to her house on the other side of the town, me riding a street car and her a bicycle, the bicycle being the preferred mode of transport in this university town. After a pleasant German breakfast we headed back out on the town, as I received a set of wheels (two wheels, to be exact) and we set about exploring a bit of this pleasant place nestled in the Black Forest.

After a tour of the downtown area, Franziska headed off to class as I rode a short distance out of town to a trailhead, at which point I locked my bike and ascended through green forest, eventually reaching the top of the hill that rises just south of town. I climbed the artful metal spiral tower at the top of the hill and enjoyed the 360 degree views of Freiburg and the forests and countryside surrounding it. I ate some fresh strawberries that I had purchased from the church market before descending slowly, savoring this glimpse of nature after so many days and weeks in cities.

I rejoined Franziska and her friend (whom I had also met on the train from Beijing) for coffee, then we bought a couple local beers and headed down to the river to sit and enjoy the warm afternoon. After we were thoroughly relaxed, we headed home to make a salad for the evening's barbeque (that's right, a real German BBQ!).

We rode to a big house in a nice neighborhood where several friends of Franziska lived, and the next few hours were spent eating lots of food and having compelling conversations with some truly cool Germans regarding guns and American culture, as well as other cross-cultural topics. I appreciated the fact that every one of them spoke proficient, if not fluent English, despite the fact that I was in their country. In the end I drank far too much delicious German wine, and Franziska and I rode home, not without stopping by a hip bar for a nightcap.

The following day, we met some of Franziska's friends whom I had met the night before and we had some lunch and relaxed on the campus lawn before the two of us headed out to explore the Black Forest. Our plan was to try to catch the tram and then the bus out to a chairlift that goes up a mountain, providing good but expensive views of the forest and the land. By an act of grace though, me met a kind young German woman at the second bus stop who recommended against dishing out 12 Euros for the lift and instead suggested that we follow her back to her village, thus providing a more authentic experience for far less scrilla.

Yes, as good American children we all learned not to trust strangers, but when traveling perhaps the opposite should be suggested. Besides, this woman spoke good English and was a Chinese herbalist, so she seemed trustworthy. We caught the bus with her and talked about her times living in North Carolina and also her times working for a popular German television host.

We got off the bus at the base of the chairlift but instead of taking that, we followed our new friend through the forest and up a steep and narrow trail towards her home. She described how she had moved out to this village recently to find a peaceful life, and as we rounded a bend and the place came into view, I understood what she meant. For the next couple hours the three of us walked around this small village upon a hill overlooking the Alsace Lorraine region of France, discussing history and borders and eating schnapps-infused chocolate cherry cake. This is the kind of experience that a traveler loves: free and "authentic". We eventually descended the hill and took the bus back into town.

That night and the next morning were rather uneventful. Franziska helped me secure a ride to Paris for the following day through a popular German ride-share website, so early the next afternoon, we rode into downtown, got some ice cream, then patiently awaited the black Mercedes SUV that was set to pick me up. The guy finally showed up and I once again said my goodbyes to Franziska as I disembarked on an awkward but rather interesting trip to the city of love.

I thoroughly enjoyed my short time in Germany. The people I met were incredibly friendly and accepting and I loved the relaxing atmosphere of Freiburg, a town which reminded me not just a bit of Flagstaff. It was a joyful feeling to know that I was really getting the local experience by staying with a native and seeing the place through her eyes. It was great to get out of the hostels for a few days, and I see my time here as some of the best of my European adventures.

Paris of course, would prove to be a totally different experience.

Full Circle

As everyone probably knows, I'm back in the Bay Area as of July 24. I have not abandoned this blog and will try to update it with the last parts of my journey in the next few days. I have next to nothing to do now anyway besides feel idle, so I should be able to accomplish this.

Love, brett.

Euro Catchup Pt. 1 - The Joys of Prague

Oh yes, a wondrous city it is, that Prague. The next stop on my whirlwind tour through Northeastern Europe was reached via an overnight train from Krakow arriving on May 21. I shared a compartment with an Indian guy and two giddy Polish girls but sleep was badly needed and I slept throughout the whole night, as is natural. I was awoken by the friendly Czech attendant at 6:30 am, just prior to arrival.

It was a beautiful, warm morning and I had a pleasant walk to the ELF Hostel, the place in which Andrew stayed five years ago when I failed to join him on his European adventure. I dropped my bags and killed the 4 hours until check-in time by walking around the hip neighborhood that surrounded the hostel and doing some reading in a park above the river. The afternoon was spent true to my travel style, wandering solo around the city in an attempt to record the plan of Prague in my mind for all eternity.

Satisfied with my efforts, I returned back to the hostel come evening and was fortunately sucked into the social backpacker atmosphere of the ELF Hostel. As it was Saturday and it would be a shame to waste my only weekend-night in this city, I went with a pack of Europeans and a couple lovely American girls (one from Portland) to a popular beer garden, followed by an underground club (underground not because it was obscure, but because it was in a basement). It was a night of Euro-beats to remember.

The next two days were filled with some more of those experiences of walking around the city and exploring holes in the walls and other Bohemian establishments. On Sunday I was joined by the two American girls, and later on a French-Canadian dude. On Monday I did some more of that solo-tripping until that night, when I had a mild evening on the town with some other backpackers. I found myself surrounded by loads of college students taking summer Eurotrips.

On Tuesday I had a ticket leaving for Germany, but not until the evening, so I spent this blisteringly hot day doing some minor shopping, buying a vintage Bohemian suit for the wedding with the help of the posh English shopkeeper, and a correspondingly vintage suitcase in which to carry it and the vinyl records I picked up (it seems that now that I'm approaching the end, I feel able to burden myself with a bunch of large vinyl discs and a formal suit). Otherwise I spent the day reading Nietzsche (I was going to Germany after all) and playing video solitaire on my iPod. I did get a chance to share a couple Budweisers (not that American barley water, but the real Czech Budweisers) with my cool Quebecois friend. After that I shouldered my rucksack and picked up my rockin' new suitcase and set off for the train station.

For I was heading on to Freiburg, a small city in the SW corner of Germany. I had a few hours of daylight before bedtime and my arrival the next morning at my destination. In that time, I hung out with some more Americans that were in the same compartment as me (Ok, seeing an American in Asia was unique and comforting, but it's getting old fast in Europe), before climbing into my bunk for the night.

And thus ended my Prague experience. And yes, it was a great time. I met some sweet people and got some Bohemian attire, and I just loved the spirit of that city. Sometimes it's hard to explain what makes your experience of a place good or bad, but it seems to be a combination of the character of the city, the situations and people you encounter in said city, and your own internal processes and emotions that coincide with it (OBVIOUSLY, Brett).

Ok, so enjoy this post. I know I'm a bit behind, but I think you will see why I have fallen into such a funk with my blog writing. There were simply better things to be doing. Since Prague, I have been to Freiburg, Paris, and London, and just today I arrived in that place that has occupied much of my thoughts and dreams since the first time I heard Sigur Ros, Múm, Björk, and all that jazz. Yes folks, I am in Iceland, and no volcano could keep me from getting here (though it remains to be see whether it will keep me from leaving).

More updates to come.