Get Caught Up

So...I've been to Germany for a few days and now the wireless at the apartment I'm staying in is up and running on my computer. But fear not, I've been updating my journal as normal, so now you can get caught up. Enjoy and check back often!


Wednesday, June 7, 10pm
Where: Couch, Munich
Listening: City sounds of Munich

I'm sleepy, and I'm tired of walking. On the bright side, I did get to see a lot of Munich today. Joe arrived this morning, battle-weary from the travel but ready to have a go at seeing the sights. We went to the main square, whose name escapes me now (Odeonplaatz?) but I'm sure I'll be well familiar with it soon, and ate sausages and drank a giant beer. A giant, delicious beer. Munich is teeming with all kinds of World Cup merchandise, to which we gladly took the opportunity to peruse at any and all times. No purchases yet other than an intertwining Nike livestrong band in the colors of the USA (red and blue, fyi). We are so trendy.

The highlight of the day, or at least funniest moment, was when we were walking around. I glanced ahead and noticed a big, fuzzy mop of hair in front of me. Without thinking, as the moment was very quick, I noticed it was Carlos Valderrama and immediately blurted out "Hey, Carlos Valderrama!" He said "Hey" and shook my hand, and we continued walking in our separate directions. This entire transaction took place in literally two seconds, but it'll give me a lifetime of memories. Unfortunately, I didn't have my camera on me, and I griped about it for the rest of the day. Oh well. Maybe the hilarity of it happening in 1.7 seconds makes it better than it really was.

We actually ate Mexican food for dinner, and it wasn't bad. Who knew the good folks at Tapa-Tapa would recreate authentic quesadillas? Not bad at all. The only bad thing was the big screen projection TV (we were outside, but it showed TV on the wall) had the USA-Germany game from 2002 playing in full. It was essentially the German way of infuriating me and Joe, who saw the handball on the goalline as if it were happening live.

Back at Veronika's apartment now, ready for bed. I was good for most of the day, but I still have some jet lag, but we did a lot of walking today so maybe it's not all travel-related effects. Regardless, I'm beat, and tomorrow's another day (or "World Cup Eve," so technically not just another day). Night!




Tuesday, June 6, 2:50 p.m.

Where: On the rails, somewhere between Stuttgart and Munich
Listening: The Roots 'Phrenology'

I'm literally typing this with the sole intention of trying to stay awake for the last 90 minutes of my haul. I certainly can't complain about the comfort of the Deutsch Bahn Inter-City Express trains, a comfortable, smooth and astonishingly quiet ride. Unfortunately, after the Frankfurt to Stuttgart leg, we've turned around and I'm now traveling backwards. Normally this isn't a bother; but after 26-odd hours of traveling with spotty sleep, it's like I might as well be reading in the dark.

Speaking of reading, my high school English teachers (who once believed I had a future as a teacher or at the very least a boy well-versed in the finest literary works) will be glad to know that, when I need some reading material, the Bild Sport World Cup preview issue (English version) jumped out at me at the airport train station. It's 146 pages of fantastic coverage and even more fantastic German-to-English translation.

Anyway, the rest of the flight went smooth. Landing at Frankfurt's imposing airport, I knocked off a few things I needed to do (get a phone card, get in contact with Veronica and Kathi despite not writing down their numbers, therefore needing to track down internet access, and the German rail World Cup special pass that allows for unlimited travel). Figuring that today, and probably tomorrow, was a complete bust — not literally, of course — I put that Weltmeister Pass to work and am headed to Munich. I have four weeks here....let's ease into things, okay? So I'm meeting Veronica (who shall be referred to herein as 'Vroni,' her nickname) at the Munich train station and will probably do little more than sleep the next two days. I must admit, the impressive bridge of Oliver Kahn at the Munich airport was a deciding factor to my day-earlier-than-expected arrival — now I can go with Vroni to pick up Joe tomorrow and see this thing.

I like Germany so far. I always find it strange, but somehow adjusting to the cleanliness of Northern Europe (ie Holland and Germany, but probably the other countries I've never visited, too) to be hard to grasp. About the only thing grimy here is me — man, I can't wait to shower, brush my teeth, change clothes and, most of all, sleep. I love the design of Germany and Holland public areas and buildings, and it was a startling reminder to walk out to the open-ended train platform all hot from the trek with the backpack, only to freeze when I took off my fleece jacket. Ah, Northern Europe.Stay layered, Frankfurt.

Another odd thing is not being on US Soccer time on arrival. I admit it was great not having to worry about accounting for 25+ giant bags at the baggage claim. Just me, man (although the contents of my bag, while not nearly the same volume, consists of essentially any self-respecting US Soccer fan would take to a World Cup). One worry is my complete lack of preparation for this country: I speak none of the language, and I already resorted to hand signals when buying a phone card (which are fantastic, by the way — the phone cards, not the hand signs). And while I have a reasonable grasp on German geography, I can't stop reaching for the map at any time curiosity or doubt creeps into my mind of where I am or where I'm headed. I'm guessing that, with four weeks here, I'll have a good understanding of the haps here. Then again, they just might be screwing themselves over if the keep printing these English World Cup magazines....






Monday, June 5, 2006

Where: 32,000 feet over the Labrador Sea, east of Newfoundland
Listening: Guru's Jazzmatazz Vol. 1

The trip began in earnest at 5 this morning, with Ronaldo awaking me with licks and half-howls. It was too early for him, yet he was still excited to see me (but perhaps not see me off). I consider myself a good traveler, and despite the fact that my once-routine inter-continental last took place over two and a half years ago (oddly, from Frankfurt), I was quite at ease with the prospects of spending 20 hours crammed into coach. Granted, I've been waiting for this day for the last two years, so suddenly all the working and school and not having any weekends seemed to have finally paid off. Last night was my last at the Star. I'll admit I was happy to walk out of there one last time, but the future, be it the USA's chances in the Group of Death or my own (though the two are heavily intertwined), is always a little scary. Fortunately, I've been down this road before. I can't believe I was finished with my freshman year of college EIGHT YEARS AGO. That's nuts.

Anyway, the trip has been welcomingly uneventful. Unknowingly scored an exit row for the Houston to Newark leg, which I'm really reminiscing at the moment. The lasagna was delicious and eaten at a much better pace than my McDonald's was at the Newark airport. I may have had a tight connection, but travel experience tells me no international flight boards on time or quickly, so I was able to score a few precious minutes of iPod charging and final calls to my mom and sister. I cannot believe Julie and Chris begin driving to Tucson on Wednesday. Actually, I'm more amazed I will miss the whole experience from the comforts of home — unless Verizon messes up and grants me international cell phone usage, I'll miss hearing stories of how J is bored along I-70. When I return, they'll have been living in Tucson for a few weeks, which is even stranger. In a good way, of course.

Not one to partake in an in-flight movie (the Houston to Newark leg featured a movie with Lindsay Lohan and Rachel McAdams, which I watched without sound for some time before realizing the girls weren't them, and about 14 years old to boot...I'm guessing it was something about traveling pants then) I've devoured the latest Sports Illustrated and FourFourTwo. I certainly won't miss the Barry Bonds steroids talk or the NBA Finals, which feature a Dallas Mavericks team I'm programmed to despise, simply because they have Stackhouse and Van Horn and about another dozen useless players. I'm convinced Antoine Walker will switch sides during the Finals. One conclusion I've come to in my readings: SI and ESPN have done a good job with pre-World Cup coverage. The 'Levels of Fandom' feature is well worth the read.

So now I'm wide awake, which isn't all bad considering there's (according to the brilliant and at the same time maddening in-flight moving map) 4 hours and 43 minutes till we land. That gives me plenty of time to sleep after I watch a little Eurotrip. Yes, it just seemed appropriate for the trip!