Monday, 22nd
We got up at 6:45am to give ourselves enough time to eat breakfast, get ready for the day, and do one last floor sweep before Alessandra came to check us out at 8. We were in the middle of our yogurt and cappuccino when our doorbell rang. It was 7:38. What! Italians are never on time, much less early! Our breakfast was strewn all over the table, our computer was on, our belongings were still sitting beside our half-full backpacks waiting to be packed, and the floor still had traces of dust. But what could we do but let her in? By the time we handed over the keys and left the apartment for the last time at 7:55, we had discretely finished eating, done dishes, packed up all our belongings, and gotten the compliment “perfecto” for our cleaning skills. Quite proud of ourselves too.
We made it to the 8:30 train to Como. The guy sitting across from me serenaded me with such gross nose-blowing I was afraid one would pop out and hit me in the face. Shane silently laughed out the window. The stop in Lake Como was disappointing, as it was foggy and raining. Our happiness being more important than a few cruddy pictures, we opted to get back on the train and continue on our journey into Switzerland. The train was late by 30 minutes, and just as we settled in for the ride, we stopped at our destination. The border was only 5 minutes away and we had sat in the freezing cold for so long just for this?? I guess so.
After another half hour wait in the border station, we continued on to Luzern, Switzerland. While Swiss trains are very nice, they make me motion sick because they bank on the corners. As if the simple turning weren’t bad enough, we had to tilt too. It was like a roller coaster ride that didn’t go fast enough to make the excitement overcome the nausea. I finally lay down and tried to sleep away my images of hurling. I woke up to sun-bathed snowy mountains. We finally made it to Luzern, where we took a Panoramic View train the 2 hours through the mountains to Interlaken, our stop for the night. The view was amazing. The only thing we disliked was that a lot of the snow was already melting. But we had a gorgeous sunny day and that made up for it. Hopefully our tons of pictures turned out well.
Our hostel in Interlaken was less than impressive. Apparently the good reviews were from those partaking in the extreme outdoor activity packages offered who were so exhausted upon returning to the hostel that they didn’t notice the sagging beds, lumpy excuses for pillows, awkwardly cramped rooms, or lack of curtains to keep street and car lights from blinding you out of sleep. And during the day they were gone enough to not notice how annoying it is to share a tiny bathroom with 6 others in your room, the sketchy internet connection, or the fact that you can get locked into your room when some idiot locks it behind them while you’re in the shower. Yes, that happened to me. I sat in that room by myself until Shane, who had the key, came upstairs from using the internet to find me sitting in bed looking morose. It’s a fire hazard, really, not having any way of unlocking yourself from inside without a key. Other than those things, the staff was friendly and the common area was cozy. But it didn’t make up for awaking to see a stranger’s sleeping face 15 inches from mine in the bunk next to me. Believer in personal space, anyone?
That night we walked around looking for a bite to eat, and found nothing for less than 15 francs per person. That’s about equivalent to dollars. It was more likely to see a 1-person meal for 25-35 francs. Because of this, we ate out of a grocery store again like we had been doing all day, and I suffered from that depressing feeling I always get when I haven’t had any hot food for a while. The feeling like I’ll never be full again, and that I’m withering away to nothing. For that reason, I can’t wait to get out of Switzerland.
Tuesday, 23rd
In the morning we got back on the Panoramic View train to go back to Luzern, our second night destination. On the way to the station Shane bought a Swiss army knife, because “you just can’t go to Switzerland and not buy a Swiss army knife!” With Luzern being only 2 hours away, we were able to get settled in our hotel early and go sightseeing a bit. We even ate at Burger King, getting two sandwiches, onion rings, and a drink for a whopping 20 francs. Expensive junk food, but it made me full and I felt more nourished. Unfortunately it gave both of us headaches, and we spent half the afternoon napping them off.
Afterwards we explored the town a bit. It’s very scenic; I actually liked it better than Interlaken. We sat on some benches beside the river and soaked in the fresh air and the mountain view. That evening we bought more grocery store food for supper, booked hostels for our next few nights in Amsterdam and Berlin, and figured out train schedules.
Wednesday, 24th
We got up early, ate the hotel’s breakfast, and opted to leave an hour later than planned so we could go see a lion statue Shane kept talking about. We got on the 10am train and headed into Germany. At a train station layover we ate McDonalds for a lot cheaper than our previous Burger King meal. But it still gave us headaches again.
We arrived in Bacharach where we planned to stay in a hilltop castle converted to a hostel. The problem was the climb to get up there. Looking at it from below it didn’t seem that bad, but 330 steps and several feet of uphill climb later, we were both sweating profusely and dying of burning leg muscles. I’m pretty sure that climb would be adequate for a professional athlete’s grueling work-out. Not to mention it was muddy from the rain, making it slippery and harder yet. Once at the castle, Jungenburg Stahleck, we were thankfully able to get a room even though we hadn’t reserved first. It was a cute 3-bed dorm room overlooking part of the valley. Just enough of the original castle interior had been saved to make it feel real, and we congratulated ourselves on staying somewhere cool and unique.
The town didn’t have much to offer other than cute, quiet streets and a gorgeous view of the Rhine. We took several pictures before heading back up (pant, gasp, wheeze) for supper. Supper was surprisingly good and consisted of either noodles or rice with a topping of pork-laden sauce….thankfully they also had a tofu sauce for those who didn’t eat pork, which we don’t. The side dishes included asparagus soup, corn salad, and canned pears. It was all very tasty and I got so full Shane had to finish my pasta for me.
In the reviews of the castle we were forewarned that it is a popular place for school groups to visit, and that they were often very loud. There was a group there with us, but we were assured that they were in a different wing and therefore wouldn’t be bothered by them. That night right after we went to bed around 10pm, we were rudely disrupted by the loudest yelling, screaming, door-slamming group of early-teens I’ve ever heard. No help in the fact that the castle interior echoes like a canyon. But regardless, these kids were LOUD! And rude. I couldn’t believe that they didn’t think to consider other guests, especially since some of them knew we were staying on that hall. Apparently the desk clerk forgot that one of the group’s rooms was on our hall instead of downstairs with the others. We put our earplugs in, prayed for mercy, and were given it. Only one short ruckus after that and we were able to sleep undisturbed.
Thursday, 25th - Saturday, 27th—Amsterdam, Netherlands
We awoke at 6:45, got ready to leave, and ate another simple yet tasty breakfast. A few pictures later and we were down at the train station, my legs shaking from the downhill climb with my heavy pack. Something is actually wrong with my knees. They’ve been having an internal intermittent ache for months now, but that hill made them feel old and dilapidated. When I have money again I’ll have to get it checked out. Maybe give myself physical therapy.
We hopped on the train and headed to Amsterdam, marking it the third day we haven’t missed a single train. Once there we found our hotel, which was in the World Trade Center. We picked it because it was unique—the rooms were lighted with colored LED lights, and had a switch that you could use to make the colors change, blink, or remain on a single color. Our room’s main color was red. It also had a TV which I discovered had 50% English channels such as MTV, news, cartoons, and movies. The beds were plush with down comforters, and I was tempted to just stay in bed all day watching TV. A downside to the room was that the glass shower had no shower curtain, and the bathroom itself had no door. Period. What hotel has no door on their bathrooms!? Not even married couples want to be able to hear or smell what’s going on in the bathroom. Thankfully I discovered public bathrooms out in the hallway, which I used gladly. The second downside to this particular room came the first morning at 6am. We had been unlucky enough to be placed in a room right above and beside a workshop of sorts, so our view from the window was just that—the inside of a shop. Not only that, but at 6am Friday morning all the workers came to work, and we discovered that the door leading from the shop to the WTC was right below our room….and SLAMMED shut every time someone went through it. Which had to have been once or twice every minute. It was so ridiculously loud that it jarred me awake every time. It gave me bad memories of my first college roommate. I tried to fish for my earplugs but they were wedged in the container so tight I couldn’t get them out without completely waking myself up. So I persevered in my attempt to remain asleep for another 3 hours while that stupid door slammed over and over again. The second night was better, since it was Friday night and no one works on Saturday. But I have a few choice points to make in my hotel review.
Amsterdam is a city made for those who like nightlife. But it’s also a city made for those who don’t want to feel sequestered by society’s rules and norms. Take, for example, the fact that both marijuana and prostitution are legal there. That being said, every souvenir shop you go into will be teeming with gag gifts centered around pot and the red light district. Amsterdam’s symbol is XXX, which you will see everywhere you go. It makes Vegas look like a kiddie playground. I have to admit though that we both liked the laid-back, happy attitude portrayed by everyone here. That could come from either the lack of rules or the fact that everyone was high, I don’t know. But either way, Amsterdam sets a good example in the good attitude department, if nothing else.
While there, we walked around the city streets taking pictures, ate a really good meal at O’Reilly’s Irish Pub, toured the Anne Frank house, and walked through the red light district. Now that was an odd experience. It’s not every day that you’re surrounded by something that is shunned by society in any other country or state that you go. And because of that, it feels very foreign and surreal. The red light district (centered around a church, of all things) is recognizable by just that—the red LED lights surrounding the doors to what reminded me of indoor stalls on both sides of narrow alleyways. In each of these glass doorways, the red light girls stand there in scanty lingerie for the viewing pleasure of whoever walks by, waiting for a customer. Behind them in their small, private, LED-lighted rooms is a simple yet inviting bed, a bathroom, a few decorations, and other…necessities…needed for them to do their job. No pictures are allowed of these girls; if they see a camera, they will slap the curtain over their door. After a round through these alleys I felt like I was in a different world. I wasn’t quite sure whether to feel shocked, intrigued, sad, or sinful. Maybe a combination of all. I couldn’t help but wonder, as I looked at these girls—some raising their eyebrows beckoningly at men, some standing there quietly looking out, and still some others puttering around acting bored—how they got into this business, and how happy they were being in it. I read that these girls make an average of 500 Euros a day. That’s pretty good, but it’s sad that so many girls do it because they feel there’s no other option.
On a more wholesome note, the Anne Frank house was simple and kind of sad. The rooms were bare, save for the museum’s descriptions on the walls, original pictures pasted on Anne’s bedroom walls, and the occasional sink or toilet. The hiding place was a lot larger than I had expected…an entire upstairs floor actually. I had always imagined it to be a tiny room. Nevertheless, it made me want to read the Diary of Anne Frank. I’m so glad we are past those terrible days too.
We spent all day Saturday on a train to Berlin. Once at our hostel that night, the Generator, we spent the evening eating, bumming online, and watching TV shows on the computer. I miss the luxury and comfort of the last hotel…
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