Bavaria and the Rhine

---

We headed for Fussen early, and checked into our B and B (which is slightly better than and B and N). We wandered the relatively small town, wandered right out of the town and towards a waterfall, viewed said waterfall, then followed the flow of the river towards a big lake (which was disappointingly low in terms of water level, however the water was beautifully blue - being glacier water). Back in our room for the evening (after much too much work and walking for so few sights) we watched CNN world and MTV Europe on the ol tv, at groceries, and got to bed early. The next morning a delightful breakfast was brought directly into our room on a tray (I felt awkward, but it was cool nonetheless). The goal for the day, see Neuschwanstein Castle (the big famous one from all the castle calendars.... the one the disneyworld castle is based on). We boarded a bus, got off, and walked to the castle (perched upon a cliff). The 30 minute tour was short (but the chubby group with us complained of the length and the stairs anyway). The history of the castle is this:it was built by a crazy king. The whole thing is crazy. The best part, one room inside is a fake cave. There is a door in the ceiling that connects to the concert hall upstairs. The king refused to listen to in the hall and prefered to open the door and listen to his favorite operas from a cave setting. Nuts. The remaining rooms were the desired level of opulance one expects when touring the worlds greatest castle. Post tour, we climbed to a bridge with a famous postcard view of the whole thing. This not being enough for travelers like us, we climbed higher (rule: once you havent seen a soul for at least half an hour, you are in the right place) for a better view. We headed back down and then followed signs for a walk to a neighboring town that sounded interesting. The trail lead along a bubbling stream with a series of waterfalls. At the town, we rode down a luge ride which is apparently a very popular thing in the area. Picture the luge we know from winter olypics. Then imagine a steel track and a lugecart with wheels. Basically, the ride was fun (if not a bit death defying). Next week took a bucket tram to the top of a nearby moutain. We looked over the terrain, a relativelz flat Bavarian plain begining at the foot of the mountain, and THE HUGE FREAKING ALPS behind it. Views were good. We were warned not to hike too much around the top by the girl at the ticket book (because it was very snowy and icy - editorial comment, the mud was way worse than any snow she warned us about - and we lacked appropriate shoes - not too mention climbing gear). Of course we climbed a bit higher for better views. It was fun to be in almost a foot of snow in places (much more fun that NYC where its just a nasty slush from cars driving around). At one particularly breathtaking ledge, we asked a nearby indian family to take our picture. The father nearly leapt, saying, "not too close to the edge," as we backed up to get in frame. Mom, you would have liked them. People are looking out for us around here. Once Bradley decided he had gone far enough up for good views, I just felt the absolute need to get to the very summitt (marked by a cross.... presumably because if you make it alive, you will be thanking god asap). Once I had gotten to the top and back down, I realized the abundance gear around, chains and spikes and places to anchor legitimate climbing gear. I wear running shoes. There may or may not have been a sign in German with some instruction about experienced climbers only. Oops.

The whole operation would never fly in America. Someone would do something studid. And someone would get sued. So its my gain being able to do this stuff in Europe. And we barely made it to the last tram ride down (4.30.... too early). Being stranded certainly would have made for a better story.

Side note. We found vanilla coke here. So now my two favorite coke products (vanilla and coke light) are in Europe but not America. Drats. I will enjoy now.

Another note: we love that German towns look exactly how you would want them too. Imagine some fantasy German village. Ok, literally, one exists just as it is in your head.

That night it apparently snowed alot, because we looked out our window to find maybe four inches on the ground and all around. We had a leisurely breakfast, watched the news, got readzy. The day had been reserved for us to get to the Rhine Valley (next stop) and see the lovely city of Rothenburg along the way. However, looking at train times and connections, we had to scrap Rothenburg from the plans (as it was, we ended up getting in pretty late). It ended up being a nasty gray rainy snowy day anyway. We caught the train out, and on the train, we worked on the ongoing project of writing a musical with each song based on a part of the trip. Today we chipped away at the chorus for the number about italian transvestites at a McDonalds. Another song about Bancomat ATMs around here goes like this: "Bancomat. We're going to the Bancomat." (its all about the presentation)

The scenary from the train was quite nice, though less than dramatic. It helped ease the pain of not trying to see a zillion sights a day. We got into Munich (making a connection) and booked our night train to Prague (a few days later). The guy at the booth was the most helpful person I have met in some time. We grabbed food and jumped a train to Frankfurt. Halfway we were alarmed as people drove us from our seats. Apparently halfway through (in the city of Stuttgart, I believe) the seats suddenly become researved. Anyway, some hassel later, we settled again (Bradley being fairly frustrated). The point of our going to Frankfurt was to catch a connection to Mainz (and the point of going to Mainz was to catch a connection to Bacarach.... follow?). However, suddenly Bradley thinks he catches just a bit of an announcement in german that a connection to Mainz exists at the next stop (some completely random city.... called Mannheim I think). So we grab our bags and leap from the train into the unknown. We quickly discern that, indeed, a train does go to Mainz, but leaves in minutes. Sprinting to the train track, my water bottle falls from my bag, and as we scramble for it, it falls down and onto a track. Ever the stickler for schedule, I yell, "forget it. we cant miss this train. leave it." But Bradley "never leave a man behind" Golub heroicly jumps onto the active track (with pack still on... heros know no sense of discomfort), tosses the bottle out, and climbs out himself. The sprint continues and we slink onto the train just in time.

However, the time we saved making this connection (one to two hours because we didnt have to go as far as Frankfurt) would become for naught as we met our match..... the dastardly city of Mainz. Allow me to back up. We love German. We sing the praises of this wonderful country on a daily basis. Even though we enjoyed italy, we often compare the two countries and discuss how much we prefer Germany. We loved every city and every person..... until Mainz. First, the train schedules were impossible to discern. We would not figure out how to get to our destination Bacarach (and we seriously pride ourselves in being able to figure anything out around here) a city within relative walking distance of Mainz. Bradley then asked a girl at the info desk, and she told us which was the next train to Bacarach. Only it did not stop there. The train sped on through and beyond for over half an hour. We simply jumped off at that first stop, then took a train headed back the way we had come. This savior city (Koblenz) actually contained schedules which included destinations. What a concept.

We instantly loved Bacarach. Even in the dark, the quaint cobbled streets and medevil buildings were enchanting. After locating our new B and B, we knocked and met the proprietor (our soon to be new best friend) Lettie standing at the door in her bathrobe. She showed us our (huge) room (with tv and private bath!.... for very cheap). She was instantly concerned we had not eaten (Jessica, you would love her) and shoed us out the door to a little restaurant around the corner, hoping it might still be open. We found the nice little place, which seemed almost closed, but the door was unlocked. It had red curtains, five or six tables, and a little old man sitting in the corner folding napkins. The place just drips with decades of historz and german kindliness. The man greeted us, shuffled over with napkins and silverware, brought menus, and shuffled off to get his english-speaking wife. She was nothing less than the textbook definition of sweet (a German Momoo, if you will). We ordered, and for very cheap we got soup, salad, and a main meal (mine, a local specialty of beef in gravy with potato dumplings). After a day on multiple trains, we were not hungry for desert (though she tried valiantly. "Apfelstrudel? Specialty of the house," she insisted). Back in the room we had to listen to CNN world tell the same lame story, over and over, about the death of Pakistan´s cricket team coach - it was either that, or "Starsky and Hutch" in German.

Sleep.

Headed down for breakfast, we tenativelz poked around downstairs for the right room. It was in a bright courtyzard. A table set for us, near a buffet table full of goodies (most importantly a full pot of coffee). Then Lettie brought out grapes and yogert and a place of eggs, sausage, and waffles. We ate like people unable to register the sensation of "full." A nice couple from Seatle also sitting near us gave us food from their table that they did not want (either that, or they worried that without that gift, we would turn on them for their flesh out of unrestrained appetite). Oh a real breakfast.

Train to a nearby city, check it out, tour its castle (Rheinfelds). The castle was fairly ruined, but a sense of its massive size was impressive nonetheless (as were its cool castle details, especially a labrynthine system of tunnels underneith). We took a ferry across the river (there are no bridges for many miles), saw that city, ate applestrudel, and hiked up to its castle (Burg Katz).
This is a good time to mention where we are and why. We are on a stretch of the Rhine River in west Germany. The point is that along this 30ish?-mile stretch are several nice medevil cities and many (many) castles. The castles were used to tax merchants using the river. Normally sightseers take boats up and down the river perfectly viewing each castle from that perfect vantage point. These do not run until the tourist season picks up in April, so we are left with local trains only running once an hour, ferries crossing the river at three strategic locations, and footpaths roughly connecting the cities amongst the hills that surround the snaking waters. It requires a herculean effort of strategy, organization, and physical endurance to see the things we see under these circumstances.
From Burg Katz, we hiked further to the Lorely Cliffs - famous for some reason no one can remember. The cliffs are alright, but the hike itself is the high point (at least for me..... I certainly will not speak for Bradley on this one). We then got back to the town and grabbed a train to another castle citz. We hiked high into the hill above to view three castles in one vista (one on an island in the middle of the river) before us. We jumped another train to see the Rhine´s best preserved castle: Marksburg.
We exit the train. Its 3:30 (or 15.30, if you prefer). The castle can only be seen by guided tour, and the last one goes off at 4. We have half an hour to find where the hell the castle is in relation to the city, then reach it. Five minutes of frantic searching and twenty minutes of charging through the city and up a sizable hill later, we arrive on time (legs and lungs absolutely hating us, but on time).
Tours were only given in German, so we had the rather surreal experience of following the german tour while reading brief descriptions of the rooms in an english brochure. We nodded knowingly, but towards the end, the guide caught on. He began kindly giving brief english bursts of information as we walked to the next room after each stop. The castle was great - well preserved, detailed, and commanding from its place on the hill over a city. We only wish they had let us up a turret.

Sore and bloodied from a long day, we headed back (taking a train to a ferry to a train), cleaned up, and descended upon our new favorite restaurant, again the only people there for the night. While we ate (this time accompanied by a fantastic local red wine) the proprietors ate at another table next to us. Goodness, how many times have we been made to feel like one of the family on this trip?! Its becoming a theme. This time I tried the strudel (with vanilla ice cream, she excited added). It was good, but nothing on mom's apple pie. We left still hungry somehow (this daz really wore us out) so we contemplated grabbing a kabob across the street, then we looked everywhere in the city for a coop (hoping to split a huge jug of gelato/icecream/whateverthekidsarecallingitthesedays), and finally we settled for spliting the bag of chips we had left in the room.

Tonight we dont sleep so much as we die for 7-8 hours and are resurrected at 7 am.

We breakfasted the same as before (the only differences being that we were the only ones in this time, and Lettie gave us seconds on waffles). We chatted with her for about an hour. Lettie used to be a physician. It turns out she has done alot of things. We love her - in a similar vein to the guy in Naples, only Lettie is slightly less crazy.... and she doesnt pinch Asians like a crabman - that we know of. We then toured the city we had been sleeping in - Bacarach (this is the traveling equivilent of my dating life - "Well, we've slept together twice, so I guess we should go out or something - you know, like in the daytime." Ha ha. Kidding. Joke. Hi Mom.). We love Bacarach (also with castle) and immediately proclaim it the German sister city and counterpart to Manarola (in fact, the Rhine has a number of similarities to Cinqu Terre). We then invent a hand gesture for it; it involves making a b with our hands. Creative. Next we caught another train and got out at some random town. We saw three castles from our path as we hiked into the hills in search of another castle tour: Rheinstein. This one was my favorite - we even got to go up into a turret (pictures were taken). Finally we headed back to Bacarach (Bacarach represent!), grabbed a long-awaited kabob, and jumped a train for Koln. There (after a transfer in our favorite transfer city, Koblenz) we saw one of the worlds greatest gothic cathedrals. Verdict: exterior overwhelming, interior underwhelming.

Now we are in an internet cafe. In a few minutes, we will get on a train for Frankfurt, where our night train will depart at 23.38.... headed for Prague.

---