Nights in Schweitz Satin

Going to be a bit late…

A friend of mine who lives in Zürich e-troduced me to her friends in Basel, Schweiz (German for Switzerland) who kindly offered me to stay in their home for 3 day duration of my research. 

Intending to leave Dresden Monday night on the overnight train to Basel (10 hours) and arrive Tuesday morning at 8am where I would meet Reto (my host), I was quite surprised to receive a text message at 8am on Monday MORNING which said, “Sorry Jessica, I missed my train and I’m running about a half hour late, I’ll be there by 8:30am.”

Um… I was still in Dresden…

 So I quickly went back to check the communications I had made to inform my hosts of my arrival when I realized I apparently mixed up the dates on account of the overnight train.  Yes, I was leaving Dresden on November 2, but would not Arrive until November 3^rd.  Doh!

or, in German, Döh!

So, feeling like a schmuck, I replied to Reto’s apologetic message with one of my own to absolve him of any guilt he may be feeling text which read,

“No worries, take you’re time because I’ll be a day late.” 

 

What a great way to start my visit to this country.  Fortunately he was not upset. Then when he missed his train and was late again the following morning however, and felt guilty, I reminded him that at least he wasn’t a day late like me.  And he could play that card for a while.

After arriving, I immediately went into town to wander the streets just prior to meeting my first contact there, Thomas, who works for an emergency planning organization. When he called to give me directions, he told me to make sure not to take the street car in the direction “France” but to take it in Direction “Marktplatz”

… I said, “France? As in, the Country? France?” 

And he laughed at me.  

 I still cannot get over how close everything is here. After growing up in the US where we are so spread out, and we are so far away from the countries whose languages we study, whose histories we learn, it is strange to be just down the tram stop from "France."

Markt Platz.

Basel is a town on the Rhine River (which I know you all know because you’ve been doing your own research on my flood-chasing), also on the border of Germany and France.

The Rhine River divides Basel into Klein Basel (small basel)

And Großer Basel (grosser).

Gross basel is also where most of the tourist stuff is because it is so old, but both towns have a nice feel to them.

 The couple with whom I stayed live just near Gross Basel and were very sweet. I set up post in their living room for a couple of days to explore the city and continue my research.  (YES, I am actually doing research). 

Bear unfortunately didn’t make it out into Basel with me (pity, he would have loved the river) because he was laying down in the flat all days with a couple of valium after the sticker shock of the first cup of coffee we enjoyed at the train station.  So I did most of the exploring on my own.

One quirky thing about Basel right now is that there is a festival going on, the Autumn Fair.  It apparently started some 500 years ago when the Pope decided that this city must be able to have a festival.  So , they have one every year at this time—indeed—just because they can.

The Autumn Fair is like a combination of a carnival (minus the carnies, these folks are much different than those who run carnivals in the states… short of offending anyone, these carnies don’t smoke, they have all of their teeth, good hair, style, and appear to actually enjoy children—oh, and you can’t win any goldfish), a bake-sale (amazing local treats  and spice cakes designed to send you to the hospital on cardiac arrest,) and a craft fair. 

 The festival also spread all over the city and held in seven locations. It is in front of the cathedral, the Rathaus (town hall), the other churches, on BOTH sides of the river  and there are people everywhere so there is quite the positive energy bouncing about.

And after my first 3 full days in Switzerland, aside from it being perhaps the most expensive place I have ever been (Benchmark: small Starbucks coffee = $6.90), Switzerland is exactly as we stereotype it to be, and even more, it is happy to be so...

Proof:

Swiss Cheese

Swiss Banks (yea uncle J, I checked on your account, and… I’m looking up the German word for “foreclosure” right now)

Swiss watches

Swiss Chocolates

Swiss neutrality (see, dont' these people just look ready to not-take-a-stance-on-a-conflict?)

(actually what is funny about this picture is that the tree was just put there (it's cut at the bottom, not planted) by the crane. And they made us all walk around it. Then they wedged it into place with. Maybe they decorate it? Apparently conifers are not endemic to Basel.

Swiss Cheetah’s on leashes

Swiss Army Knives

Swiss Cuban Cigars  (wait—what??)

Accountability

This is a brief post, to pass on a landmark decision regarding flood policy in the United States issued just two days ago.

For a couple of years, there have been numerous lawsuits against the US Army Corps of Engineers to hold them liable for the damages and devastation which ensued as a result of errors before and during Hurricane Katrina in August, 2005.

A 1928 Flood Control Act (after some of the worst Mississippi River Floods) granted the US Army Corps of Engineers complete immunity from any damages resulting from floods, even if damages were caused by mistakes made by the Corps (for example, poor design, poor operation or construction, poor maintenance (not fixing leaks in levees or maintaining navigational canals, etc)).

Incidentally 80% of all "disasters" are human caused, not nature-caused.

Therefore, this made it very difficult to find the Corps liable for any damages resulting from failures of Corps-built and maintained structures which "protected" New Orleans. Most of the lawsuits have not been successful because of this act, but one suit with a new angle was.

The story is here on this link NY Times Article

There are no doubt pros and cons to this and I'm happy to share my opinion but would rather you form your own.

One large plus (that I will share) is that this decision now requires that the Corps of Engineers (responsible for all flood "protection" in the United States) be accountable to their decisions, their designs, their flood control structures, navigational channels, etc with special regard to protection of citizens, property etc... it is a step in the right direction...


Floods in England
On another note, massive floods in England unfortunately. I think sometimes it is difficult for us to imagine what it is actually like during a flood (and even those who have experienced tend to forget)... but here is a link to an article with a video, which does a little bit of justice to the situation.  It's quite cold which is important to remember.  Flooding In Cumbria   And see photos

One important take home message comes from a quote from the NY Times article where Environment Secretary Hilary Benn said, ''What we dealt with last night was probably more like one-in-a-1,000, so even the very best defenses, if you have such quantities of rain in such a short space of time, can be over-topped,'' 


This town in England was supposed to be defended to a one-in-100 year flood.  But this was a one-in-1000 year flood.  Which means that the protection measures could not handle the volume from the rain, and even when we have protection, there is still a residual risk from larger floods.  The policy in the US is the same, protection for the one-in-100.  

30 Oktober, Double-O7 in Double-09

 30 October, 2009 

Sorry this is dated!

After only 2 hours in Dresden, it already it seemed like the friendliest city in Germany.  People smiling, chatting, its’ very young it seems (or at lest the “neustadt” is).  People walk around smiling. So far, this place is the most laid back, friendly place I have been in the whole country.  Not only did I pass a restaurant with Veggie Burgers on the menu (rare for home of the brat-loving peoples), but there is an organic market nearby, and (the best part), an apartment on my street with a Michigan flag on its balcony.  So I guess this may be one of the first times I have felt “at home”…

Does it get any better?

Now, some of you may (or may not) know Dresden as the infamous town Kurt Vonnegut writes about in his World War II era-book, Slaughterhouse Five.  Others may know it as the town in Eastern Germany that on February 15 1945, the Allied Forces (aka, U.S, Great Britain, etc) bombed the living daylights out of for 48 hours, killing anywhere from 35,000 people, many of whom were refugees, women, and children.   It is arguable (in this part of the country for sure) that the forces had no business in doing so because the war was over, and these were civilians.  No, I’m not knocking on the Allied Forces and I have nothing but respect and appreciation for battle fought on my behalf, but I’m telling you the story of this place. 

Needless to say, while other parts of Europe are incredibly old, Dresden Germany is all reconstructed since 1945.  Then more of it is being reconstructed after Reunification (1990), and even a lot of it (and the whole Saxon State and parts of the Czech Republic) is being reconstructed still after the  flood on the River Elbe in August of 2002.  Incidentally, this is the reason I came to Dresden.  Hence, this place is a particularly interesting landscape.  That, and Eastern Germany is a bit different culturally and economically from western Germany.

And as soon as I walked into the Dönner shop, (there are loads of them around Germany, its essentially a place that sells kebabs (like gyros), falafel, and pizza, the Pakistani man running it was already asking me where I come from, how old I am, am I married…. Waaaait a second.

Ha!

Okay so once I realized where that conversation was going, I started to lie a bit. 

Do you have somewhere to stay?

Yes. (okay that wasn’t a lie. But what I didn’t add was that I was staying in the same building as the kebap shop)

Do you have a boyfriend?

Er… yes. Yes I do.

Do you know people and have friends in Dresden?

Um… yep.  Sure do.

In all honesty I think he was just friendly and you know what, I say let’s hear it for being direct and to the point right? Funny how in the US when people are direct like that, we automatically think they are creepy. But really I think they’re smart and not wasting time. J

Following our exchange, a young German woman my age (and style) came in and was chatting it up with him, they clearly were friends.  Everywhere people say, “Tchüss!” which sounds like of like, “cheers!”

Dresden is divided into two parts—the Allstadt (old City, south of the Elbe) and the Neustadt (new city, though not really much newere than the old city), north of the Elbe.  The old city is mostly new because it was leveled in 1945, and has all the famous buildings  (rebuilt of course) including the Frauenkirchen.  It is quite remarkable that they are trying to rebuild the exact same buildings as they were years ago before the flood and/or bombings. 

The moment I got here and checked into my hostel (which is just like someone’s home by the way, the coolest one I’ve ever inhabited), I walked down to the River. 

I am here (among other reasons) because there was a major flood in 2002 that devastated the whole state and also places upstream like Prague.  This was the impetus for Germany’s new flood policy.

  This is a small monument dedicated to the flood in 2002.  THe top of this wave (you cannot tell how high it is, but this is on top of a bridge, around 10.4meters above the Elbe River below) is to mark how high the hochwasser or water level was during the flood.

 German flood policy now is protection for the 100-year or 1% annual chance flood like in the U.S.  And the structure is such that the Federal Government lays a framework, but the individual Landers or States make their own laws, enforce them, and implement them.  This is because as a result of some dark German history, there is a fear of giving the federal government too much power. So most of the laws and regulations are actually just guided by the feds but enforced by the states. This of course does have its down side. 

I would have more city and flood-related photos for you but my camera battery died and the charger is broken so I can't take them off the card. Drat!

How Cliché!

On day 3, I officially  became an international criminal.  A friend even referred to me as James Bond, which I must admit, I quite like.  I disclaim that I will give you a lot of build up, to a potentially disappointing story when I finally get to the point, but for now lets just enjoy this together J.

In desperate need of SOMETHING less urban,  I escaped for the day to a region called Säschisse Sweiss. National Park  (Pronounced: Zack-zee-shuh Svytze). Now try saying that five times fast.  Or if you’re like me, try for one.  Just one is difficult enough. 

On Thursday at 11am, I had purchased a day-ticket for the tram.  So on Friday at 8:30am, I rode the tram again with the same ticket making the assumption (I know we all know what happens when you assume), that a day-ticket actually meant 24 hours—you know, the length of a day?

After two stops, a German authority (but in sneaky citizens people clothes!) came on board, said something in German, and showed me her badge.  Only me.  And of course on Public Transit, no one has anything better to do (since the ipod-anit-social-craze hasn’t caught on in Germany yet) than to stare at you—esPECIALLY if you’re talking to authorities who have just showed you their badge.

But I feel fine and hand her my ticket, because I have done the correct thing, bought a “Day” ticket, good for 24 hours in my brain.

She shakes her head and says, “Nei!”  (pronounced Nay.)

“Nei?” I repeat.

“Nei.” Fierce eyebrows.

“Sprechen-sie English?” I asked her if she spoke English.

“Nei.”

Nei?  Okay so how do I explain this one to her.

Fortunately, there is a student sitting next to me on the tram who speaks English fluently and he offers to translate.  Apparently my “day” ticket was not good for 24 hours, but actually only valid arbitrarily  up until 4am the next morning. 

At this point, my life became a walking cliché as she asks in her harsh German accent, for “your documents please…”

Really?

Ha!

My “documents”? 

I wish I had fake ones, just to make this story better.  But alas, I never cheat (except in an 8^th grade history exam), so I will never tell a good story. 

She takes my passport for a while  (as the crowd looks on) and I’m not entirely sure what she is doing.  Normally I would argue, or at least plea for sympathy that I REALLY wasn’t trying to pull a fast one on the German government and I DID think that my ticket was still good.  But the student didn’t feel like translating that for me.  So instead, after a long hard look at the “documents” she handed my passport back. And thru the translation, I learned that normally I would be fined 40Euro, but since I was a foreigner and didn’t speak German, if I would pay her 20 Euro on the spot, I could be done with it all.  (Aka, if I paid her hard cash, she could put it in her pocket and make no record that this event ever happened, but at least it would be 20 Euro instead of 40.)

So I complied.

Then, the sweet German-translator-boy-who-did-not-help-me-negotiate-a-cheaper-price-or-my-actual-honest-mistake gave me the three German kisses goodbye, and we went on our separate ways. 

Or rather, he went to school and I went to Saxon Switzerland to get lost on the trails and curse German National Park System with 20 fewer Euros in my pocket.

Don't worry--if it looks like I'm holding onto that tree to keep from falling down the mountain, that's actually just because I'm holding onto that tree to keep from falling down the mountain.

See you in int'l prison--

Ludy.

Jess Ludy

something amiss...

We'll play a game called, Where is Jess?

Clues.

banks, cheese, chocolate, army knives, watches,  mountain dogs, chalets, miss, neutrality, and current holder of the America's Cup
(not to mention the most expensive country in the world)...

There will be actual photos and commentary to post in the near future, but alas I am busy with "research" today in Basel, so perhaps soon.  Also soon (tomorrow) I'll be in Zurich to meet up with a couple of friends.

much love

to the resistors... (in bear's words)

Last week, Bear was feeling all gezellig, so we decided that after so much travelling, we would take a night in with lebkuchen and hot schokoladen (bears love chocolate).  He got very quiet , which is not entirely bjorn-like, and so I tried to ask him what was on his worried bear mind.  But he didn’t want to talk.  So instead, we fell asleep watching German-dubbed versions of Bay Watch (Germans love David Hasselhoff). And then I felt a tug on my hair.

Bear expressed something has been bothering him for a while now and he feels really confused about some of the things we’ve seen on our trip.  “About the floods?” I asked.  “No,” Bear replied.  “About the deportations, the camps, the violations of rights, all of the memorials,” he began,  “none of this seems very  gezellig ,” he thought, and I agreed. 

“Is this why you tried to jump off the train when we passed through France?”

“Partly,” he said.  “(And that is the reason I shall move to Switzerland—the land of banks, knives, excellent watches, and neutrality!)” he thought.

Bear said he felt so helpless and so frustrated.  And now what could he even do about it?  I said he could share with his friends what he has seen, to keep the memories alive, to educate... just like is written on the memorial and statue to the unknown inmate of the Holocaust in Dachau Concentration Camp: “To honor the dead and to warn the living.”

That seemed like an alright idea to Bear, but “I’m no writer, I’m no historian, who am I to talk about it? I’m just a bear who is a bit homesick for the woods…”

I told him that was fine, that he doesn’t have to be a writer or historian, but just to share what he feels in a bear’s words. 

Bear explained to me (he is quite shy and didn’t want to write directly) that he feels all that we have seen, the Anne Frank House in Amsterdam, the Memorial to Murdered European Jews in Berlin, Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp outside of Berlin, and Dachau Concentration Camp just near Munich, are really personal and individual experiences and so he did not want to share about them.  Anyone who reads about them or visits them should see them in their own way. 

Fair enough.

Bear said he always had struggled with the German people during the 1930s and 40s and the rest of the world during WWII and the Holocaust—how could people and bears just stand by and let something like this happen.  Yes, they knew it was going on.  So didn’t they ever do anything?  Didn’t anyone try to stop Hitler, the SS, the NAtionalsoZIalistische.

Bear does want to tell you something about which he knew very little prior to his trip to Europe—The Resistance. 

Not everyone supported the Nazis.

Big resistance, small resistance, organized resistance, every day resistance…

These gold stones above mark a path down a sidestreet in Munich near Odeonsplatz.  It was here (actually in the Hofbräuhaus) in Munich where Hitler staged a coup in 1923 intending to take over Germany (Prior to having been elected).  The Coup was unsuccessful, and in the struggle, a couple of Nazi soldiers died and Hitler’s bodyguard was severely injured after throwing himself in front of a bullet aimed for Hitler. (Bear imagines how different history may have been if the bodyguard had not stepped in front). 

In any event, after Hitler was elected and took office, this site became a memorial site to the fallen Nazi soldiers.  There was a plaque on the wall and Nazi soldiers guarding the site.  Any time a person or a bear walked passed the site, they were required to give the Nazi solute.  Anyone who refused could be arrested and punished.

So, rather than give the Nazi solute, people began cutting over one street earlier, to get to the place they needed to go without having to pass the memorial and give the solute.  Eventually the Nazis caught on to this, and they began counting the number of people and the number of times someone “avoided” walking past the memorial.  If the number got large enough, the person would be arrested. 

These gold stones mark and commemorate the alternate path taken by those every day resistors to the third reich.

Next, Bear wanted to mention to you, even if briefly, about the infamous “Anne Frank Huis” in Amsterdam.  Most of you have read Anne Frank’s Diary in school and this is the house where she was hidden, her secret annexe and all.  The wallpaper is the same, even the same magazine cutouts with movie starts are still on the wall.  Anne celebrates her 80^th birthday this year and there are adoreable pictures of Anne up on the wall right at the entrance.

Bear appreciates the risk it took for this family to hide the Franks, given that they and others like them could have been arrested or killed on the spot when they were found out.

German Resistance Memorial Center

In Berlin there is an entire museum and memorial dedicated to the resistance movement against the Third Reich.  Bear strongly suggests going there or at least reading a book on the resistors.

The museum is housed in the same building where Scharffenbarg and others, (the character played by Tom Cruise in the release Valkyrie) unsuccessfully staged a coup an assassination attempt on Hitler.  And the courtyard out front is the same courtyard where Tom Cruise and the main other contributors were shot on site.  

Lesser known, there were also 15 (documented) additional attempts of Hitler’s assassination throughout the times. 

There was resistance within Sachsenhausen Camp by a group of Jewish inmates who thwarted the German plan to counterfeit the US Dollar and the British Pound in an attempt to wreck the Allies’ economies.  If the “Counterfeiters” had not succeeded, it is possible the Germans would have followed through on their objectives and there may have been a very different outcome. (Bear suggests checking out the movie actually by the same name).

There were also organized resistance groups, college students, conscientious objectors, teenagers who distributed pamphlets about the atrocities, religious figures (though Catholic bishops had been forbidden to speak out against the German government), there were political opponents, there were revolts within camps, ghetto uprisings, there were (few) people who helped hide Jews, Roma and Sinti, political opponents and resistors, homosexuals, intellectuals, and anti-socials from deportation to concentration camps and they are all commemorated here in this museum.  Bear didn’t know about all of these small movements, so just incase you didn’t either, he wanted to share them with you. 

“So there was resistance...” Bear said, dropping his head. 

We decided to go for a walk this night. Just down the street, Bear tripped over something and he looked down to see what it was.

“Stolpersteine,” replied our friend Josef.

Pronounced, “ schtoll-pa-scht-ine”

“Stolper” in English is “stumble” and “steine “ are “stones.”  So quite literally, stolpersteine are stumbling blocks or stumble stones.

Stolpersteine are an art project by a man named Gunter Demnig  who began the project in 1993. 

The Stolpersteine are gold “stones” or blocks that replace regular stones in the sidewalks in front of houses, buildings, and apartments where all those previously lived who were deported and killed by the Nazis.  These Stolpersteine are now all over Germany, parts of Austria, and the Netherlands. 

The idea is that you may stumble upon them because they standout from the normal blocks and stones in the street.  When you stumble upon them, it forces you to stop and ask a question. What do they mark?  Who lived here?

Bear did some of his own research because he found this really interesting, but thinks he’d rather you do exploring of your own, so he found you the website all about the stones just by clicking HERE. 

So, not to leave you hanging at all, but Bear decided that this is where he will leave you with his thoughts and sharing.  There is so much more to say, of course, on a subject like this, and he doesn’t really know how to close.  But Bears tend to be brief, and don’t feel like they can take on such a weighted topic.  Maybe it is better for a conversation than a bear blog.  Yea, definitely so…

Gutenacht.

(Just to clear for anyone who was concerned about the seriousness, Bear did not actually visit Dachau, Sachsenhausen, or the Annefrank Huis. We both have respect and tact of course.)

Bearlin, Germany (part zwei)

A few notes from Bear Bjorn: (he knows he's 3 weeks behind but bears are slow with these sort of things)

Parisier Platz, Berlin

I saw this camera crew and couldn't resist walking back and forth behind the woman on the right who was being interviewed. Jess tried to convince me not to distract her because she could see the woman clearly noticed my good looks, but I refused, jumped out of Jess's backpack, and kept walking back and forth.

The goose was trying to give me lip, so I strangled it.  This was in the Friedrichain area.  Jess pulled me off and rehabilitated the goose in time.

We made it to the top of das Reichstag (to be read with harsh German accent) by 10pm at night. I  don't buy that this just "burned down" either... 

Me and Jess at the top of the Reichstag

I make these guys look good.

le petite pirate

Bonjour! Right now I back in Germany and on the train to Dresden, but I am writing to talk about my 4 day excursion (still on the Rhine River) to Strasbourg, France.

In sum, it was… well… French. J

It was a breath of fresh air to be someplace where I could speak the language. I’m not entirely fluent, but for the most part was successful and managed quite well.  Thank you Greenhills Highschool.

Strasbourg, France is in the Alsace region of France. It is a very interesting history because it has gone back and forth between German and French hands perhaps a hundred times over hundreds of years.  It is right on the Rhine River and also on the border of Germany.  It has its own language, called “Asacien” (go figure) but most people just speak French.

I stayed in a cute youth hostel, “L’auberge Jeunesse” just outside of town.  Hostels have their attraction because they are inexpensive and you typically get to meet a lot of neet people and share rooms with people you might not otherwise have the opportunity to make a connection.

 For example, I shared a room with a sweet Hungarian girl who worked for the European Parliament (must be hard times for the EU if they could only afford to put her up in a youth hostel)  an Australian girl, who was backpacking for a total of 8 months,  and four tidy quiet, beret-wearing-baguette-eating-cigarette-smoking French cockroaches.  No, I am not calling the French “cockroaches.”

 I am describing the character and nationality of the cockroaches who shared my dorm room.  Personally, I think I should have gotten a discount since I paid to share a room only two other inhabitants,, but all together  avec mes petites cockroaches, we made 7.

 My second night there when 192 teenagers checked into the hostel, I knew I was in for a great time. J

And I digress…

Strasbourg is an adorable town with (big surprise here) a beautiful Cathedral that lies in the center and is one of the main attractions. Only one spire on this church, however.  After the Cathedral in Cologne, I decided I was a 2-spire kind of girl, so didn’t waste my time going in OR climbing the stairs.  J I did however enjoy coffee and pizza, people watching, bird-poo avoiding, and speaking French to waiters…all while looking at the cathedral.

I also took a boat ride on the canals (the town is lined with canals) on a beautiful sunny day. I was pretty sure the boat ride was meant for all tourists, but it was actually a boatful of Germans and me.

By this point, I speak enough German to ask for things like food coffee and beer, to recognize that someone is in fact speaking German, to talk with my hands (wait—that’s Italian), to  LAUGH (even though most German strangers I pass do not laugh, nor do they think it is funny when I do so--- ) and  I know how to say, “No old man, these are MY headphones in ENGLISH. YOUR headphones go in HERE and are in GERMAN.” 

My favorite part of the boat ride was when we passed the torture towers.  (that sounds strange, but wait).

 This was where, you guessed it you smarty-pants you, they tortured people back in the old days.  What I found particularly funny in the recording (perhaps something is lost in translation or the French are maybe just blunt?) is that when the previous Torturer was caught doing something illegal (I don’t remember the crime), his punishment would be first to have his tongue cut out and then decapitation.  But, in a very cheerful voice, the tour guide said, “thanks to many years of good service, the judge took pity and fortunately allowed him decapitation without cutting out his tongue.”

Should I have clapped here? I was the only one who laughed (out loud).

RESEARCH...   

I mostly wandered about the town but since I actually was here on research, I met up with a friend who lives here, Mathieu, who I actually met in Southern France this past summer doing river-research. This is a particularly interesting area because effective flood defence/management depends on what happens on BOTH sides of the river.  One side is Germany, the other is France, both of whom have different policies, regulations, and interests. 

In short, went to see some “cool stuff” on the Rhine.  Well cool stuff for me, like dikes, poulders, dams, and BANK EROSION (oooh….ahhhhh….)

Laugh if you like, but I know my water friends are appreciating this right now!

  (on the left side, Das ist Germany, Right side c'est la France)

Though unrelated, check out this BUNKER!!! (its on the right , the cement block)

From the WAR!!!!  

But it is right alongside the Rhine. I gotta think that during heavy rains the average bunker-hiding Frenchie is hedging his  (or her)bets on which is safer… dodging bullets from the Germans across the river, or… the rising Rhine River itself.  Check out the awesome sign.   See, EVEN IN GOOD WEATHER floods can happen people!

I also had the unexpected opportunity (these are the best kind) to go out and visit a 1626 Hops Farm because Mathieu’s friend Stephanie grew up on it.  They still have the original house and all the buildings intact which is beautiful and it has been in their family for generations (Since it was built I believe).  Anyway, we got to see the hops farm and get a tour in French (which I mostly understood) how they grew the hops, processed them, and then distributed them.  Her family distributes hops to Heinekin, Budwieser, and others.

 (These are what the hops vines grow up to).

 Mostly exports but they do sell hops to one local brew as well called Meteor.  To close the tour, we of course enjoyed a meteor in the back yard. 

Check this out—I didn’t take a picture of it, but it is behind the door (because I didn’t want to be offensive), but this cross has the head cut off because during the French revolution, the armies came to destroy all Christian paraphernalia!  They never gave jesus a new head. I find that funny. J

Afterwards, we went into Mathieu's house.  He has a pet squirrel. This is amazing. I apologize that the video is sideways I can't figure out how to change it, but check out the most hyperactive squirrel you have ever seen in your life.

Anyway, post farm tour, we all went out into town to enjoy some traditional Alsacien (regional) cuisine.

One traditional dish I enjoyed (other than the pretzels, coffee, and delicious bread!) is called Tarte Flambée . 

“Tarte Flambée”  (pronounced, tart flambay) is French for, “flaming heart-attack-on-a-plank.”   It is like a thin crust pizza  (only a little softer but not like a tortilla shell) minus the sauce, and then add on onions and lots of different kind of creamy cheeses. If you eat meat, then you also usually get it with a type of ham.  It was delicious. They serve it to you on a plank and you pay once but they keep coming and coming with more flaming tartes.  I could only eat about 1.5 of them but I would have loved to have more. 

Another dish which we all cooked is called: “ knopfle. “ It is pronounced like  ka-no-p-fluh , only frenchier.  This is kind of like noodles? You make the batter and then drop scoops of it into boiling water and as the globs rise to the surface you take them out of the pot.  Then you sautée them with garlic and cream and cheese.  Delicious.  And ham of course if you like that sort of thing.

I had a fantastic time with Mathieu and his friends.  Truly, everyone I have encountered on this trip has been so generous and that has made my experience even better.  After just 4 brief days there, I hopped a train back to Germany where I spent the next 4 days in Munich but I will save that for another post. 

Other traditional foods are really just torture methods... I mean check this out. On EVERY CORNER...How does someone not gain like 500lbs (I'm sorry, I mean 200 kilos), while living here?

Oh, and I took a picture of a little french pirate dressed up for--I don't know what. But I had no choice. It's not often you see this sort of thing.I did it on the sly so that I didn't look like a stalker, but now I kind of feel like hiding myself while taking pictures might officially give me stalker-status. crap.

Oh, plus, while waiting for the tram, I met these guys.

After they tried to “scare” me and failed miserably, we chatted and they let me take their picture. I would like to add however, in the spirit of things, and in the spirit of OUR season, that this is somewhat out of place. Because

1)   it was October 20, not 31… and also,

2)   FRANCE DOES NOT CELEBRATE HALLOWEEN! WHERE WERE THESE PEOPLE GOING???!

That is all for the short stay in Strasbourg.

Closing thoughts?

-I am quite well…

-I am eating quite well (maybe too well)

-I am meeting a lot of really nice people

-I love trains

-I am safe

-No, I did not tell the French any of my French Military jokes 

-European soccer fans take the prize for enthusiasm over American sports fans any day  (I say this as a die-hard Michigan football fan)

-Some guy who looks like Larry Bird just sat down across from me