European Vacation: Day 3 - Germany!

Thanks for your patience, y'all (look I'm turning Southern!). Time to get back to chronicling our European adventure. On day three, we departed for Bamberg, Germany, our favorite part of the trip!

We got up early, fueled up on croissants and espresso, and boarded an eastbound train. As soon as we crossed the border between France and Germany, things started to get surreal. We suddenly were in a country where we couldn't understand a word that came over the loudspeaker. Alexia studied German a bit in high school, but she was also pretty much at a loss. We had to do a lot of pointing and nodding when ordering sandwiches in the dining car. And in case you're wondering, yes, a large group of children hyped up on candy and screaming in German is every bit as annoying as sugar-high children yelling in English, as we experienced when we found ourselves sharing a car with a school group returning from a field trip. We spent much of that leg of the trip playing cards in the dining car (and wondering if the children were eating any of the butter cookies I'd left out on my seat. I think they might have).

Our first stop was Frankfurt, where we discovered we had arrived late and that our connecting train had already left. Not off to a great start, but we didn't panic. We found a train station worker who spoke better English than we did German, and he printed us an alternative itinerary that would get us back on track (uh, literally, I guess). We had a little time to kill then, so Alexia grabbed a warm pretzel and we headed out to experience some of the sights Frankfurt had to offer.

And here you go. After finding little more to look at other than sex shops targeted toward Americans, we decided to just hang out in the train station for the rest of our stay in this fair city.

We got on our next train and had just gotten comfortable when the ticket collector came by. Unlike the man we'd met at the train station, this guy knew no English. But he saw that our tickets didn't match with the train we were on. We tried to show him our new itinerary and make gestures showing that we knew what we were doing and were okay, but he wouldn't let up. So we spent the next 5 to 10 awkward minutes flipping through the German dictionary looking for a word or phrase that would keep us on this train. I can't remember what we came up with - I think I found the word for "late," but it suddenly appeased him, and he nodded and walked off. Close one.

The countryside between Frankfurt and Bamberg altered from lush countryside and concrete architecture of post World War II Germany to one with more old European charm. Before we knew it we had arrived at our destination, a town that was a little off the road to Prague but that we had chosen for its famed smoked beer. It was so off the beaten path that we had been unable to find a guidebook in the States, so as soon as we debarked we headed toward a little shop in the train station. Trying to look as non-touristy as possible, we scoured the guidebooks and maps until we found one that seemed informative yet somewhat inconspicuous. Now we just had to figure out where the heck we were going.

The woman behind the counter spoke English and started to give us very complex directions to our hotel (which sounded like it was 200 miles away as we stood there with our big ol' backpacks) when a man started talking to her in German. He then turned to us and said he'd show us the way. Gratefully, we followed him. Once outside, we expected him to point in a specific direction, but instead he told us to follow him to his car. I got a nervous and suspicious feeling in my belly - no one is that nice. But it was about to rain, we didn't know where we were going, my bag was getting heavier, and David was already climbing into the passenger seat. As the man opened the door for me and Alexia I did a quick scan of the door to make sure there were door handles on the inside, and seeing that there were, I also got in. Turned out to be a nice clean luxury car, so I started to relax a bit.

The man's name was Check, or maybe Czech, like the name of the neighboring country. As he drove he told us he often visits the Czech Republic to buy antique pocket watch stands. Apparently he's a collector of these unusual knick knacks, and he showed us some photographs of a few. The route to our hotel was full of twists and turns, and the rain did start while we were on our way. He dropped us off and pointed to a building across the street - that's where we could sample the world's best smoked beer, he said. The restaurant across the street, he added, was one of the best German restaurants in town. I'd scored on my random hotel selection. Anyway, we thanked him, and as he drove off I noticed his bumper sticker, which read: I love tourists. I'm glad I didn't see that before. I would have interpreted it in a to-serve-man kind of way.

We again found ourselves lucky to have run into Check/Czech when we entered the hotel. The manager also runs a LaCoste clothing store, which she was about to close before going home for the evening. She didn't speak any English at all and it would have been great fun calling the after-hours phone number she had posted on the door and trying to explain we were her guests and that we needed to get in.

By then it was dinnertime, so we made a b-line for the brewery. It was very crowded with locals and reminded me of a Rotary Hall on a Friday night (for my Southern friends that's the night up north of the weekly fish fry). We ordered three smoked beers, hoping after all the hype that they would be worth it. And oh, were they ever. David had read one review before we left home describing the brew as tasting like water used to put out a house fire. I would say that was way off. It was more like a Guinness with a bit of hickory flavoring. It was delicious, and the best beer in the world at that moment.

While at the bar, Alexia's cell phone rang. We looked at each other astounded, and she answered it. It was her brother's friend who lived in Bamberg. Laurent had been trying to contact this friend for days to let him know his baby sister and friends would be in town. The friend told Alexia he'd love to show us around but that he was in Poland that week. He gave us some useless tips, like don't do the riverboat tour (duh). We just thought it funny - what are the odds that we'd actually know someone in Bamberg, Germany, and that he'd happen to be out of town that same week we visited. Oh well. We probably did better without him.

We crossed the street to the restaurant and ordered more of that wonderful smoked beer. Dinner was incredible. We couldn't read the menu, and no one there spoke English. Alexia ordered something called a Jagersohnitzel, which turned out to be a creamy veal and mushroom dish. David got wiener schnitzel, which he described as good but unremarkable. I ordered something with the word for bratwurst in it, and it was the best meal of the three. That dinner was probably one of the most enjoyable of the whole trip because it was so rewarding after a rather confusing day.

After eating we just wandered the streets of Bamberg for awhile. It was dark and quiet and also clean from the recent rain. All the shops were closed but we just enjoyed the architecture and the peace of the evening. Finally, we headed back to our room for a good night's rest. Tomorrow we would explore this town more.