Look Both Ways Before Crossing a German

The Germans are a fascinating people. Orderly, precise, and efficient, they are tireless in their persuit of perfection. The trains are arrogantly punctual, clocks are perfectly synchronized, and you can eat a three-course dinner off the toilet seats in the train station. The language itself is long and complicated, with names like Heigerdusselflingerstreudlebahndorf Strausse. And to hear them speak is to know the very depths of hell itself. Every time someone opens their mouth I'm ready to perform the Heimlich maneuver for fear they are choking on their wiener schnitzel. Curiously, stern mannerisms often cloak a genial positivism. But teeming just below the surface of this perfectionist facade are many issues which affect the national psyche. Here you have a people that blindly participated in one of the worst genocidal acts in human history yet won't be caught dead jay walking. I'm serious. There can be no cars visible for a mile in either direction and people are patiently standing at the corner waiting for that cross walk sign to light up. You don't know whether to laugh or cry.


My German adventure started in the small, quiet town of Fussen. This was Bavaria, home of kings, castles, and the delectable cream that fills your donuts and clogs your arteries. The town hostel was completely booked so I landed in a local B&B. Run by a elderly, short, stout, German women it was authentic in every way. Breakfast consisted of bread, jam, and some manner of German mystery meat that I dubiously dubbed worstwurst. I spent a day touring the famous Neuschwanstein Castle. Built by Mad King Ludwig (not angry, but definitely mad) this mass of gleaming white turrets and ramparts was purportedly the inspiration for the castle in Disneyworld. The following day I rented a bike and wandered around the beautiful countryside until I ended up in Reutte, Austria. You ever take a wrong turn and end up in a different country? Didn't think so. In Reutte I visited the Ehrenburg Ruins, a 13th century fortification which is now just a series of cool crumbling rock and stone. With nary a soul in sight I had the whole place to myself. Soon my imagination got the best of me and I ordered an attack on a nearby farming village, but with no troops to obey my orders I had to settle on making obscene gestures at a nearby cow.



With little time clocked on floating transport during my trip I decided to catch a cruise up the Rhine river. I spent my first night in a castle that had been converted into a hostel. My favorite stop on the Rhine was a small town called St. Goar, where I explored the fantasically cool Rheinfels Castle and once again tried to place myself in mortal peril. The inhabitants of this particular castle built a series of narrow tunnels with thin slate roofs packed with explosives in order to blow up invaders. There are six hundred feet of twisting, turning tunnels; it's pitch black, muddy, slippery, cold, full of dead-ends, and you're in a deep crouch the whole time. Oh yeah, and did I mention the only light I had was a six-inch wax candle and a book of matches? Matches being the obvious choice for tunnels that used to be filled with gunpowder. Germany obviously doesn't have any lawyers. Lucky for me, I had a set of directions in my guidebook. Unfotunately, I went in the wrong entrance to the tunnel and was following the directions backwards. Alone, shivering in the dark, panic started to settle in when I hit my second dead end and a furious swarm of crane flies erupted from the walls around me. The candle was half gone at this point so I slowly backed out till a found a space to turn around, then carefully backtracked to the entrance. After turning my guidebook rightside up I decided to give it another whirl. Fifteen minutes later I made I made it to the other side, cramped, muddy, covered in wax, with quite a large smile on my face.



I spent a quick day in Munich as well. Munich is great city where approximately 50% of the women look like men. I actually expected it to be a higher precentage. But some of those girls....yikes. I took a free city walking tour and you truly do get what you pay for. I listened to the schlock and spiel in front of the Glockenspiel and tried not to fall asleep. The Glockenspiel is basically a giant clock with a series of rudimentary analog figurines that stike poses and dance around for about 15 minutes every hour while a series of bells chime along. The first five minutes were interesting, the second set dulled the senses, and by the third you prayed that you would simultaneously go deaf and blind. The tour mercifully continued. We saw a few churches then stopped in a beer garden for bratwurst and beer, which is what most Germans do after some heavy sermonizing. The beer is served in massive, one liter mugs. I swear I saw some guy carrying his baby around in one of those giant mugs. It must have been Bring Your Daughter to Work day. With 126 kinds of beer and just as much fattening sausage one has to wonder how any Germans live past 40. If ever an earthquake struck Munich it might just be a national coronary.