Steve and the rest of the sports missionaries had left early in the morning, so by the time I got up, It was just me and Daniel in the room. I climbed the stairs in the attic down to breakfast, where Jan had laid out an assortment of cereals, baked goods, and juice. I had some cereal and a jelly filled donut (with real Alsace jam), and then waited my turn for the shower. There was only one shower upstairs for the 4 of us to share. Luckily in this house, the toilet was in a completely separate room from the bath and shower, so this helped elevate some of the congestion. When we were all showered and ready, Randy loaded us up in the car to take us across the border to Germany and The Black Forest.
In the car, Randy showed us his special affinity for Brian Adams, playing us a few of his greatest hits. I've always, personally, found Brian Adams to be a little cheesy. However, I've never seen anyone so passionate about him as Randy. He was giddy to show us his favorite songs, and made sure we were listening to lyrics very carefully. As we listened, he talked a little about what it takes to love someone completely, the way Brian Adams sang about. Both Randy, and Jan still talk about each other like they're newlyweds. I find that extraordinary. It's not even just when they're both in the room together, but anytime we're driving, or talking alone with one of them and the conversation leads to love, they still talk about eachothering with longing. I hope I have that with whomever I end up with, 20 some years after. All of us in the back were laughing, and having a good time playing car games, like the one where you let your body weight squish the one on the end during sharp corners. I was in the center, and at one point, Janelle put a little extra squish into my shoulder during the turn, so we teased her saying that Brian Adams must have had some kind of an affect on her. The rest of the day, that was our inside joke.
We crossed the border, and drove through Neuenburg, Germany to a little Villa called Kandern, near the Black Forest. In Kandern, We visited a middle school/high school in the center of town for MKs. Randy used to teach Biology, and coach Basketball here years ago, when he and his family lived just down the street. He showed us his old classroom, and introduced us to his old class, and some of the faculty there. He had all the kids go down the line, and list off what counties their parents were missionaries in, in order to show us the huge scope of diversity they had in this little school. There were kids from, literally, everywhere in the world, who's parents were all serving in everywhere from France to Serbia, and Indonesia to China. Everywhere in Western Europe, and Eastern Europe, Asia and the Middle East, South America and Africa. Kids with all different experiences, cultures and backgrounds gathered here in one small classroom. All the teachers and Faculty were volunteers. None of them were being payed to be there, they all just decided there was nothing they'd rather be doing right now, than teaching these kids. It was stunning to me. I didn't realize it could work that way. I asked Randy how they survive here without any sort of payment? He said that they're all paid through donations from churches back home that they got to sponsor them before they left. Also, here in this small town community, the majority of the population are all missionaries. So they all pitch in and help each other out when someone needs help. It's kind of the way the ideal world should work. I'd never seen a community work together with such good intentions, harboring all people from all nations with every background and culture, and it seems to be working fairly smoothly. No one has to lock their doors within the town. No one worries about going out at night, and everyone says hello to you on the streets. Randy knew just about everyone, and they all knew him. I felt bad after a while, because there were so many of us, and he tried to introduce us all to practically everyone in the town.
We walked through the center of town, as Randy pointed out what everything was. He showed us his old house, and the street he lived on. For lunch, he bought us all Kebabs, and we ate them out on a bench near a little babbling brook, in the shade of a tree. As we ate, he talked to us about missionaries, and preached to us a little about God's love, and how we show that to other people. I had struggled earlier about the idea of evangelism, and so I brought that up, and talked with him a little bit about what that means, and what, if anything, the responsibility of a christian is. He talked for a while about his ideas and understandings of this was, relaying passages in the bible to support his views. However, I've come to find that most Pastors/Preachers have a habit of talking, and not leaving enough room for discussion of the topic. Growing up with my father having been a pastor, I know this to be true. Randy had a lot great points, and a lot things he said confirmed what I'd found on this trip. However, I wanted to talk to him more about the things that bothered me with evangelism. I feel I do more for a person by just listening, and being their friend than I seem to with talking. I don't necessarily, or never have before considered that evangelism. Evangelism, to me, is like what the spanish did to the South Americans, and the American Settlers did to the Native Americans, and what the British did to Everyone else. This idea of evangelism seems hostile to me. It feels like telling someone their way is no good. Like removing the speck from someone's eye, while having a plank in your own. This is why I'd rather stick to what I know, what I've experienced. I'd rather tell someone who's lost everything that once I had nothing too, and share that pain, rather than tell them a God whom they can't see, understands and read them a bible verse out of context. Maybe something which says "God has a plan for you", in which he's clearly talking to someone specific who lived and died thousands of years before you ever existed. I'm not saying I don't believe God does have a plan for my life (because clearly I do), but looking at it from someone who hasn't experienced what I have, in terms of feeling close to God. I wouldn't know how to explain away that doubt. I wouldn't even know where to begin. You can't prove God exists. Anyone who does convert someone through convincing them that God exists was withholding quite a few facts. It's misleading, in my eyes, to sit down and tell someone about God. The reason being that you yourself don't know everything, perhaps even anything about that topic. It'd be like if I tried to sit here and tell you about horses. I've ridden one before, I know what one looks like, but I don't know anything really about them. Anything I'd tell you would be speculation, or bullshitting. I love bible studies because it's a bunch of people who admit to know little or nothing, trying to come together and figure out something as a group. It's not one person telling another that I'm right and your wrong. Good pastors like Randy, and my pastor back home, Todd, and my father, will tell you that they're still just figuring it out too. So I've had trouble with the idea of conversion, or Evangelism because of that big mountain, which is: I don't know any more than you do about God. I know what I've felt, and until you've felt it too, I don't know what to say that you haven't already heard. Randy made a good point though that, ask anyone who shrugs off Jesus who they think Jesus is, and they're almost always completely misinformed regarding biblical text.
After lunch, Randy took us to some more of the homes in the area, and we got to walk in and see what the beautiful German Villa homes looked like. We got some ice cream at little Gelatoria nearby, and we each had some amazing ice cream cration. Some were shaped like dishes of Spaghetti, others like eggs sunny-side-up. They were all made of various ice creams, but disguised as other foods. It was really interesting. After that, Randy took us to see a Stork farm, and then we stopped through one of the MK dorms nearby, and got to see what living as an MK was like. It was all very similar to what I'd seen in various other college dorms. There were usually 3 or 4 to a room, shared bathroom, one per floor, a lot like a hostel. This was a girls dorm, and they were getting ready for a high school dance which was coming up soon, so all their different dresses were hung up and laid out. Randy explained to us that here, they pretty much share everything. When girls move away, they usually leave their old winterformal/homecoming dress there in the dorm for someone else to wear the next year. There's a strong sense of community in this area, and it made us back home just seem so selfish and vain. The dorm RAs and Faculty were all volunteers as well, the same as the teachers, and it seems as if (probably because of that) teachers and students, dorm RAs and live-ins are all much better friends, and actually hang out outside of the workplace.
When we were finished there, Randy took us back across the French border to the old WW1 trenches. At the opening we walked in and got to see the tomb of the unknown soldiers who were never identified, and then at the top of the stairs was the all the gear, bullet casings and bomb shells which were found littered all over the hills and in the trenches. As we walked out through the trail up through the mountains, Randy warned us to stay on the path. Apparently not all the land mines had yet been found. I joked back, how great of a story that'd make to be my age and honestly say I lost my leg in the WW1 trenches. They all disagreed that, that would be any fun at all. We followed the dirt path up to the top of the hill where we began to see bunkers stationed up at various points, hidden in the brush. We crawled into the trenches and explored through endless mazes of underground bunkers, and caverns. Randy had one flashlight which he gave for all 4 of us, so we were huddled together as close to the light as we could get, in order to see our way through often pitch black tunnels. In a lot of these bunkers, they'd build several stories to them, and they build bridges and ladders, and lifting systems to ammunition depots, and war rooms. Sometimes we'd be all forced together, huddling over the light, and not even realize until the light shined round that we were standing on a tiny bridge across a huge cavern 50 ft down. Some caverns dead end, but some of them lead back up to the surface, and came out at an epic view of the whole area. At some points, you could see into 3 different countries (Germany, France, and Switzerland), and then back into bunkers they'd go. Randy told us that what we're doing, and seeing right now is something only about 1 out of 1,000 travelers ever get to do. It was so much fun, and so interesting to see this kind of history right up close. A lot of the original barbed wire still lined many of the trenches, and they zig-zagged all among the country side. It was funny, because if you looked from one side, you couldn't see any trenches, it just looked like rolling hills; but if you looked from the other side, all the trenches became visible. The first thought that popped into my head when seeing the 2 different sides, was that this spot would be absolutely AMAZING for paintball. That would be so rad to just get lost in a bunker, or jump through WW1 trenches looking for the other team. However, it was probably not quite as fun for the men who actually had to fight here. The french were referred to as "The Blue Devils", and you see signs all over dedicated to their memory. We took some pictures near a giant cross of the summit of the hill which you can see all the way from Randy and Jan's house. At night they light it up, and it shines through the darkness in memory of the soldiers of WW1.
Before we turned back, Daniel and the girls found one last bunker which seemed to go on for miles in one direction. The girls wouldn't venture any further past the light, so Daniel called me to go in with him. I was so excited, I ran all the way over, and jumped into the dark hole. Once inside, I found Daniel by following the light from the (now very dim) flashlight. Together we developed a system to make use of one flashlight between two people in absolute darkness. He, holding the flashlight, went first until he got to a stopping point, and then shined the flashlight back where he'd been so that I could follow. Eventually the small cavern opened into a huge room with maybe 20 ft high ceilings, and piles of rubble stacked in the corners. The floor, we noticed, was getting increasingly more damp, until a small, shallow lake stood where a puddle used to be. Water dripped down from the ceiling also, echoing in the vastness of these rooms. Some of the wood and metal supports for the ceiling had fallen down, and so we used them to balance on between scattered rocks to cross the lake in the center. This was extremely difficult in pitch blackness, but it was like Indiana Jones, and I was so excited, I'd forgotten the danger. We wandered further in, until we got to a point where the air was thin, and harder to breathe. Daniel choked on the dust, and murk of the musty cavern, and we decided it might be best to turn back now before we got lost, and couldn't breathe at all. So we turned around, and made our way back until we discovered the bright white light at the opening of the bunker. It was amazing how dark it was in there, and it took a while for our eyes to readjust to the outside world again. I can't imagine what it must have been like for the soldiers trapped down there for months at a time.
When we got home, washed up and ate dinner out on the balcony. The Kents made us chicken, and we had more of that Alsacian white wine. After dinner, all of us college kids watched more Twilight Zone episodes, and ate French Chocolate and popcorn.
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Thursday, May 8, 2008
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Colmar, and Southern France 5/5/08
I woke up this morning, and hurried down to breakfast. I met Jan on my way down the stairs, and she shook my hand excitedly, and welcomed me to her home. She told me what was laid out for me in the kitchen for breakfast, and reminded me to help myself to anything. She looked very busy, putting the finishing touches on the house in order to make room for the 14 people who where coming to dinner, at least 6 of whom staying the night.
As I mentioned before, I happened to arrive as 3 different groups of people were expected to stay with Jan and Randy. One of these groups where 3 college kids from California who are studying abroad in Oxford. It was planned that I would travel with Jan down to the train station to pick them up, and then the 5 of us would go exploring Colmar. Randy was, at the same time, going to go pick up the second group who were (I believe) christian missionaries that run basketball camps with which Randy is affiliated. The 3rd group (I think) was to meet us later for dinner, this group mainly seemed to consist of fellow missionary friends of Jan and Randy who've been traveling around Europe, and needed a home to stay in. It was all very confusing, but Jan and Randy looked like they had it down pat.
For breakfast I had a french type of cereal which I'd never had before, and doesn't exist in the states. It was surpassingly amazing; much better than most cereals in the US. Along with it, I had some toast with home made French jam, and orange juice. It was so good to have a real breakfast, and not budget cereal and stale rolls, like in hotels and hostels. After breakfast, I went upstairs to take a shower and get ready for the day. My shower was wonderful, and I came back down to the kitchen fully refreshed. When I returned, we were still just waiting for Randy to get home before we could start off for the train station, and in the meantime, Jan let me play the piano they had sitting in the living room. It had been more than 2 months since I'd played the piano, I felt like I'd almost forgotten how, but soon things began to come back to me. It's just like riding a bike, you never really forget. I felt a little more like me again, letting my fingers remember how to play the songs I used to play, and even remembering where I'd left off on certain songs I was still writing. Sometimes 2 months can seem like years when you're away from something you love.
When Randy got home, he was thrilled to see me, and couldn't wait to show me a home video he'd found which had my dad in it for about 2 seconds while Denny Belese sent them off on their missions trip 20 years ago. My dad was sitting there beside Denny as one of the lead pastors and looking a little like Sonny Bono with his mustache and haircut, which he'd always assured me was very fashionable at the time. After my dad was out of the shot, Randy stopped the video, and said "There's your dad 20 years ago." He was interested to hear what both my parents look like now, and I said "well, they have different haircuts."
Talking for a bit, I told Jan and Randy my plans for staying here and where I was off to next. They said that I was welcome here, of course, but there wasn't enough to see in Colmar to fill up 4 days, and because they'd planned for me to be here earlier, they wouldn't be around for a lot of the time. They thought it might be a little silly to take the huge leap from here to Barcelona, when I could much more easily head down to the French Riviera for a couple days and then take the train from there to Barcelona. That way I could see another beautiful area, and have only half the distance to cover by train. Plus, he told me, you can't see France and not see the French Riviera. I said that might be a really good idea, besides I started to sense that my staying here too long might be imposing a little bit on their plans, and this was maybe a kind hint that I should keep moving. Randy said he'd help me figure out some affordable place to stay down there later.
Jan and I headed off to go pick up the rest of the group, and she pointed out some of the things Randy tried to last night, but were too dark to see. We drove through the gorgeous French vineyards which seemed to have no end, and past tiny villages I couldn't even hope to pronounce the names of. The landscape was all green, and there wasn't a single cloud in the bright blue sky. Wooden supports for grape vines rose from the ground like endless forests of tiny branchless trees. This indeed looked like the wine country.
We arrived at Colmar station, just before their train was due in, and looked for somewhere to park. Neither of us had ever met these kids, all Jan knew about them was that they were friends of her son, Pete's, and that one of them (Daniel) was of Korean decent. We looked for someone fitting this sort of description, and it was almost immediately after we parked that we found them. Daniel was indeed Korean in decent, but all Californian at heart. He wore a t-shirt and jeans, and had crazy dred-like hair. Traveling with him was his fiance, Amanda, and their good friend Janelle. They all seemed very nice, and I found it comforting to be in a car full of people who sounded just like me.
The first thing Jan did was take us to the old part of Colmar to walk around, and see the town. She warned us that the old town is quite touristy, but if you can get past that, it's also the most beautiful part of Colmar. She was certainly right about all of it. There were tourists all over, however the town could not have been more beautiful. I know I've said this several times, but this time it was ridiculous. The town actually did look exactly like something from disneyland. It looks exactly like Belle's town in Beauty and the Beast. As I walked through it, I felt like singing something upbeat and cheesy, but I resisted the urge. Off to one side there was a couple dancing to an accordion being played, and on the other side, several children bought ice cream from a local shop. The houses were colorful, and looked hundreds of years old, and the wood and stone bridges rose over rushing creeks, which bore green trees more vibrant than I'd ever seen. The glass in the windows were cut into beautiful patterns of Diamond shaped sections, and reflected the look of dark glass and steel. A storybook village came to life in this small town, and my eyes had trouble believing it was real.
We walked on further through the storybook village, and we sat down at a restaurant and ordered some kind of French pizza-looking dish, which Jan told us was something we had to try while here in Alsace (the region of France we were in). It was wonderful! It was cheese, onion, and something like bits of French bacon on top of a thin, flakey crust. After dinner, we climbed up to the top of the old village keep where we got a view of the whole city. While climbing up the several stairs to the top, I got to know Janelle, Daniel, and Amanda a little bit. I started talking to Janelle about travel, and she was saying she knew several people in South America, and that I should definitely travel there next. She mentioned that she often travels through South America, and Africa on missions trips, so I told her about my best friend and his family who travel to Malawi a lot on missions trips. She asked who they were, and I hesitated for a second. "What, like they're names" knowing she wouldn't have a clue who they were by name. I said it was my friends, the Gashes. "Jordan Gash?!" She blurted out. I was astounded. "What?! Yeah, do you know him?" "His fiance, Alex and I are good friends, we were roommates!" She said excitedly. She went on to tell me that all 3 of them were APU students studying abroad in Oxford since January. They came down here because their good friend Peter (Randy and Jan's son), has also just graduated from APU, and they thought they'd go see where he grew up while they were over in Europe. I was absolutely stunned. What are the odds that thousands of miles from home, I happen to run into my best friend's fiancé's former roommate. From that moment on, we all became really great friends because we all had such a close common ground with each other. I'm sure, walking through the campus, or hanging out with Jordan at one of the Alpha (bible study group) get togethers, I must have seen them all there at some point. Months later, here I am across the world in France, and I happen to be rooming with them. The world is such an interesting place, we are all so closely connected and we don't even realize it. We talked about Jordan and Alex's upcoming wedding which they were all sorry they wouldn't be able to see, being as how they're living in Oxford now. However, I told them I'd relay their blessings, and we talked about APU, and Janelle attempted to talk me into applying their after getting my AA at Saddleback. Something which Jordan's been trying to talk me into for a while now.
When we'd finished walking through Colmar, Jan took us to another nearby, tiny village where we went wine tasting. I've always been more of a red wine kind of guy back home, that is, until I tried authentic Alsace white wine. It was amazing. We tried all the range from dry dinner wines, to very sweet dessert wines. As we drank, the lady who worked there talked us through exactly what we were drinking, and how it was made, as Jan translated for us. One of my favorites was the Alsace Crement, which was sort of a more classy substitute for Champagne. I bought Jan and Randy a bottle of it to pay back Jan for buying me lunch this afternoon, and Randy served it to us at dinner that night.
By the time we got home, we were all exhausted from our wonderful day in Colmar, and we crashed upstairs in the attic. We kept ourselves entertained until dinner by telling stories, looking at pictures, and I even got them to play a game of "name that tune" using the movie themes I had on my computer. Daniel was amazingly good at it, and rarely misguessed.
When dinner was ready, we gathered downstairs and met the rest of the 14 people who were clustered around the table in the dining hall. They were all very nice people, and I felt very welcome sitting among them. The "college kids" as they referred to the 4 of us as were all seated at one end of the table, and we often had our own conversations going separately from the rest of the table, which talked majority about missions and sports. Steve was one of the sports missionaries who coached basketball for underprivileged kids, or kids of other missionaries (MKs- Missionary Kids). However, he was a lot younger than the rest of them, and sat near to us, so he often became involved in our conversations rather than the "grown up" ones. It was a great dinner, and everyone was so kind and loving sitting around that table. It almost reminded me of my own family sitting around the Thanksgiving table up in Northern California.
After dinner, we all helped to clear the table, and then the grown ups had their meeting, while the kids watched episodes of The Twilight Zone in the other room. We watched old Twilight Zone episodes, and ate popcorn and chips until late in the night. When it was time to go to sleep, Daniel, Steve, and I headed up to the attic and found our respective beds. We stayed up a little while longer talking, and laughing about a huge bug we discovered on the wall which none of us could identify. Eventually Steve killed it with a slipper, but we all told him the mother, and 24 billion cousins were going to get him in the night. He scraped the bug carcass onto the stairs as a reminder to the rest of them to go no further. The whole day was so much fun, and solidly eventful! I'm so glad I got to meet all these new friends!
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As I mentioned before, I happened to arrive as 3 different groups of people were expected to stay with Jan and Randy. One of these groups where 3 college kids from California who are studying abroad in Oxford. It was planned that I would travel with Jan down to the train station to pick them up, and then the 5 of us would go exploring Colmar. Randy was, at the same time, going to go pick up the second group who were (I believe) christian missionaries that run basketball camps with which Randy is affiliated. The 3rd group (I think) was to meet us later for dinner, this group mainly seemed to consist of fellow missionary friends of Jan and Randy who've been traveling around Europe, and needed a home to stay in. It was all very confusing, but Jan and Randy looked like they had it down pat.
For breakfast I had a french type of cereal which I'd never had before, and doesn't exist in the states. It was surpassingly amazing; much better than most cereals in the US. Along with it, I had some toast with home made French jam, and orange juice. It was so good to have a real breakfast, and not budget cereal and stale rolls, like in hotels and hostels. After breakfast, I went upstairs to take a shower and get ready for the day. My shower was wonderful, and I came back down to the kitchen fully refreshed. When I returned, we were still just waiting for Randy to get home before we could start off for the train station, and in the meantime, Jan let me play the piano they had sitting in the living room. It had been more than 2 months since I'd played the piano, I felt like I'd almost forgotten how, but soon things began to come back to me. It's just like riding a bike, you never really forget. I felt a little more like me again, letting my fingers remember how to play the songs I used to play, and even remembering where I'd left off on certain songs I was still writing. Sometimes 2 months can seem like years when you're away from something you love.
When Randy got home, he was thrilled to see me, and couldn't wait to show me a home video he'd found which had my dad in it for about 2 seconds while Denny Belese sent them off on their missions trip 20 years ago. My dad was sitting there beside Denny as one of the lead pastors and looking a little like Sonny Bono with his mustache and haircut, which he'd always assured me was very fashionable at the time. After my dad was out of the shot, Randy stopped the video, and said "There's your dad 20 years ago." He was interested to hear what both my parents look like now, and I said "well, they have different haircuts."
Talking for a bit, I told Jan and Randy my plans for staying here and where I was off to next. They said that I was welcome here, of course, but there wasn't enough to see in Colmar to fill up 4 days, and because they'd planned for me to be here earlier, they wouldn't be around for a lot of the time. They thought it might be a little silly to take the huge leap from here to Barcelona, when I could much more easily head down to the French Riviera for a couple days and then take the train from there to Barcelona. That way I could see another beautiful area, and have only half the distance to cover by train. Plus, he told me, you can't see France and not see the French Riviera. I said that might be a really good idea, besides I started to sense that my staying here too long might be imposing a little bit on their plans, and this was maybe a kind hint that I should keep moving. Randy said he'd help me figure out some affordable place to stay down there later.
Jan and I headed off to go pick up the rest of the group, and she pointed out some of the things Randy tried to last night, but were too dark to see. We drove through the gorgeous French vineyards which seemed to have no end, and past tiny villages I couldn't even hope to pronounce the names of. The landscape was all green, and there wasn't a single cloud in the bright blue sky. Wooden supports for grape vines rose from the ground like endless forests of tiny branchless trees. This indeed looked like the wine country.
We arrived at Colmar station, just before their train was due in, and looked for somewhere to park. Neither of us had ever met these kids, all Jan knew about them was that they were friends of her son, Pete's, and that one of them (Daniel) was of Korean decent. We looked for someone fitting this sort of description, and it was almost immediately after we parked that we found them. Daniel was indeed Korean in decent, but all Californian at heart. He wore a t-shirt and jeans, and had crazy dred-like hair. Traveling with him was his fiance, Amanda, and their good friend Janelle. They all seemed very nice, and I found it comforting to be in a car full of people who sounded just like me.
The first thing Jan did was take us to the old part of Colmar to walk around, and see the town. She warned us that the old town is quite touristy, but if you can get past that, it's also the most beautiful part of Colmar. She was certainly right about all of it. There were tourists all over, however the town could not have been more beautiful. I know I've said this several times, but this time it was ridiculous. The town actually did look exactly like something from disneyland. It looks exactly like Belle's town in Beauty and the Beast. As I walked through it, I felt like singing something upbeat and cheesy, but I resisted the urge. Off to one side there was a couple dancing to an accordion being played, and on the other side, several children bought ice cream from a local shop. The houses were colorful, and looked hundreds of years old, and the wood and stone bridges rose over rushing creeks, which bore green trees more vibrant than I'd ever seen. The glass in the windows were cut into beautiful patterns of Diamond shaped sections, and reflected the look of dark glass and steel. A storybook village came to life in this small town, and my eyes had trouble believing it was real.
We walked on further through the storybook village, and we sat down at a restaurant and ordered some kind of French pizza-looking dish, which Jan told us was something we had to try while here in Alsace (the region of France we were in). It was wonderful! It was cheese, onion, and something like bits of French bacon on top of a thin, flakey crust. After dinner, we climbed up to the top of the old village keep where we got a view of the whole city. While climbing up the several stairs to the top, I got to know Janelle, Daniel, and Amanda a little bit. I started talking to Janelle about travel, and she was saying she knew several people in South America, and that I should definitely travel there next. She mentioned that she often travels through South America, and Africa on missions trips, so I told her about my best friend and his family who travel to Malawi a lot on missions trips. She asked who they were, and I hesitated for a second. "What, like they're names" knowing she wouldn't have a clue who they were by name. I said it was my friends, the Gashes. "Jordan Gash?!" She blurted out. I was astounded. "What?! Yeah, do you know him?" "His fiance, Alex and I are good friends, we were roommates!" She said excitedly. She went on to tell me that all 3 of them were APU students studying abroad in Oxford since January. They came down here because their good friend Peter (Randy and Jan's son), has also just graduated from APU, and they thought they'd go see where he grew up while they were over in Europe. I was absolutely stunned. What are the odds that thousands of miles from home, I happen to run into my best friend's fiancé's former roommate. From that moment on, we all became really great friends because we all had such a close common ground with each other. I'm sure, walking through the campus, or hanging out with Jordan at one of the Alpha (bible study group) get togethers, I must have seen them all there at some point. Months later, here I am across the world in France, and I happen to be rooming with them. The world is such an interesting place, we are all so closely connected and we don't even realize it. We talked about Jordan and Alex's upcoming wedding which they were all sorry they wouldn't be able to see, being as how they're living in Oxford now. However, I told them I'd relay their blessings, and we talked about APU, and Janelle attempted to talk me into applying their after getting my AA at Saddleback. Something which Jordan's been trying to talk me into for a while now.
When we'd finished walking through Colmar, Jan took us to another nearby, tiny village where we went wine tasting. I've always been more of a red wine kind of guy back home, that is, until I tried authentic Alsace white wine. It was amazing. We tried all the range from dry dinner wines, to very sweet dessert wines. As we drank, the lady who worked there talked us through exactly what we were drinking, and how it was made, as Jan translated for us. One of my favorites was the Alsace Crement, which was sort of a more classy substitute for Champagne. I bought Jan and Randy a bottle of it to pay back Jan for buying me lunch this afternoon, and Randy served it to us at dinner that night.
By the time we got home, we were all exhausted from our wonderful day in Colmar, and we crashed upstairs in the attic. We kept ourselves entertained until dinner by telling stories, looking at pictures, and I even got them to play a game of "name that tune" using the movie themes I had on my computer. Daniel was amazingly good at it, and rarely misguessed.
When dinner was ready, we gathered downstairs and met the rest of the 14 people who were clustered around the table in the dining hall. They were all very nice people, and I felt very welcome sitting among them. The "college kids" as they referred to the 4 of us as were all seated at one end of the table, and we often had our own conversations going separately from the rest of the table, which talked majority about missions and sports. Steve was one of the sports missionaries who coached basketball for underprivileged kids, or kids of other missionaries (MKs- Missionary Kids). However, he was a lot younger than the rest of them, and sat near to us, so he often became involved in our conversations rather than the "grown up" ones. It was a great dinner, and everyone was so kind and loving sitting around that table. It almost reminded me of my own family sitting around the Thanksgiving table up in Northern California.
After dinner, we all helped to clear the table, and then the grown ups had their meeting, while the kids watched episodes of The Twilight Zone in the other room. We watched old Twilight Zone episodes, and ate popcorn and chips until late in the night. When it was time to go to sleep, Daniel, Steve, and I headed up to the attic and found our respective beds. We stayed up a little while longer talking, and laughing about a huge bug we discovered on the wall which none of us could identify. Eventually Steve killed it with a slipper, but we all told him the mother, and 24 billion cousins were going to get him in the night. He scraped the bug carcass onto the stairs as a reminder to the rest of them to go no further. The whole day was so much fun, and solidly eventful! I'm so glad I got to meet all these new friends!
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Monday, May 5, 2008
To Colmar
This morning I awoke lazily, and debated about going down to breakfast. I hadn't eaten dinner last night, because somehow I'd managed to hold off on lunch long enough to cover both meals with one fell swoop. It's a travel technique I've very much come to appreciate. So I still had the pasta I'd bought, intended for last nights dinner, in the refrigerator. I argued with myself that I could very well just eat that as breakfast at around lunch time, and sleep in. But the lure of a free meal was just too strong to let slip by. Why have one combined breakfast/lunch, when I can have both breakfast and lunch for free. Plus eating two full meals may mean I can skip tonight's dinner as well, and not have to pay for food all day. I rolled myself out of bed and headed down to breakfast. I ate a large enough breakfast to store up for the day, but tried to leave a little room because I still had to eat lunch in about 2 hours in order to be able to use the kitchen in my room, eat, and be checked out by 1pm. It was a complex sort of dance, but it all seemed logical to me in my head.
I stayed up in my room, enjoying it, and cooking up a storm until the time came when I had to pack up my things and check out. I made sure to relieve the place of any soaps or shampoo, stuffing them into my bag wherever I could fit them.
I checked out, and as she said she would, the nice lady at the front desk let me leave my bags behind the desk with her until it was time to catch my train. Now roomless, but free of baggage, I still had about 4 hours to kill before I had to start looking for my train. I felt I'd pretty much done everything a guy can do in Zermatt if he's not going to ski or go on a huge hike, so all that was left was just to relax. I walked over by the river again, and crossed it by jumping rock to rock. I was much more graceful this time around because of the practice yesterday. I found a lovely place right at the riverbed, under the shade of a rather large bush, and laid right down in the mud. The cool mud felt great on my back, and a rock supported my head. It was a hobo's paradise. As I laid there, I listened to the rhythm of the river, and watched the puffy white clouds overhead. As I rested, I hummed songs and hymns, waiting for my eyes to get heavy enough to sleep. Hikers passed by me on the other side of the river and smiled, I could tell they were envious of my very Tom Sawyer type situation, and content light heartedness. When I noticed them, I just tipped my hat and smiled right back. Life was good.
That lasted about an hour and a half, and then I felt the need to get up again. I started walking back up, trying to find a path I hadn't taken. When I got to one, I noticed it split off into 2 directions. One went up, and one went down. I remembered what I'd taught myself about paths that split off like this: Whenever you can, always take the high road first. The reason for this is that you want to take the road that's going to be a more difficult climb first so that when you get to the top, and you're tired from climbing, you have it all down hill the rest of the way. If you took the low road first, you're tired from walking, and now you have to walk twice the distance, all the way up hill. It's really just a good way to save energy. I took my advice, and climbed up the high path for a ways, but it didn't really lead me anywhere I wanted to go. It seemed to be following the ski slope back up to the top of the mountain where I'd have nothing to do but just walk down again, so I turned around and took the low Road this time. It lead me along a little bit prettier views, and eventually to a bench where I sat for a while and listened to my iPod. When that had eaten up another hour, I walked in large circles, through the town until my time was up.
At just after 5, I picked up my backpack and Mr. Windlehatpee, and caught my train on the first leg of my journey to Visp. In this trip to Colmar, because there's no real direct way, I have to change trains 4 different times; once every hour. It's kind of a pain, but at least it's only a 4 and a half hour train ride all together. It could have been a lot worse. I could have to do the same thing with a 16 hour train ride like the one from Dubrovnik to Budapest. I'd take this train ride over that one any day.
On my way to Visp, I sat next to this awesome Scottish man named Ken. We got to talking while on the train, and eventually became friends. He was just in Zermatt meeting up with some old friends who get together every year, or every other year, I can't remember which. Evidently, they used to all be a folk band together. He noticed my fiddle, and asked me where I'd gotten it. When I told him I'd bought it in Ireland, he frowned and said I should have gotten it in Scotland. I told him I'd figured the fiddle was more of an Irish instrument, and Scotland had the Bagpipe. He was dismayed to hear the fiddle being called an Irish instrument, but granted me that Scotland does merit the Bagpipe. "The thing about the Bagpipe," he said "is that it really only plays at one volume: f**kin loud. The fiddle is a softer, more intimate instrument, which plays at a multitude of different volumes." I said I agreed with him, and that's why I love the fiddle so much. He joked with me that since I'd bought a fiddle in Ireland, I should have bought a Bagpipe in Scotland too. I expressed to him the obvious difficulty that would present, even just beyond the Bagpipe costing at least 3 times as much. He agreed, and we talked about the awkwardness of the bagpipe, and how it's not an easy instrument to play. He said it's not so much in the strength of forcing the air through the mouthpiece, but keeping the bag up and inflated while working the part where your hands go (I can't remember what it's called). He stayed with me through 2 train changes, and then he helped me find my next train, and we said goodbye.
On the last 2 trains, I just sat and listened to my iPod until I'd finally reached Colmar. I wasn't exactly sure how Randy was supposed to find me. He said on the phone that he was just going to be waiting for me at the train station, but it occurred to me that he hasn't seen me since I was 2 years old. I think we can safely assume that I no longer look anything like I did at 2, so I thought there might be an issue. I looked around at everyone at the platform, trying to find someone who looked like they were waiting for someone, but everyone with this look had just found who they were looking for. I remembered that When Mark and Deb picked me up in Naples, they weren't waiting at the platform, but just outside waiting for me to come out of the station. I walked out of the station, and as soon as I got outside, I saw a man get out of his car about 25 meters in front of me. He looked something like the picture of Randy I'd seen, but I couldn't really tell because it was too far to see without sufficient light. He wandered towards me, seemingly wondering the same thing, although neither of us wanted to yell the others name, and be wrong. We moved toward each other, until finally he took the chance. "Tyler?" He asked, "Randy?" I said back. We quickly closed the distance between us, and shook hands. I was relieved it was in fact, him. We caught up a little on the way back to his home. There was a lot of ground to cover for 19 years. He asked about my parents and sister, and I tried to catch him up on a very brief overview of where they all are now, and what they're doing. He told of some things he'd been doing over here, and explained to me what the next couple of days were going to be like. Apparently, I'd arrived just as 3 different groups of college kids were also arriving to stay with them. I apologized for the terrible timing, and assured him I'd be as little trouble as possible, but he told me it was no trouble at all. On the way to the house, he tried to show me some sights as we passed by, but it was too dark to see much of anything, so he said I'd see it all tomorrow in the light. He mentioned some of the history of the area, and pointed out the fields where trenches still stood from WW1 in the time when this particular area was the main battlefield of the eastern front. He said that this land has changed hands 4 different times since the late 1800s, and as of now is officially still controlled by Germany even though its technically part of France. Jan and Randy's home was occupied by the Nazis in WW2. Randy showed me the building next door which was blown to pieces by an Allied air raid. The house absolutely does look like it could have housed Germans in WW2. It looks like the houses you see in old WW2 films, and it carries that feeling of history with it as soon as you walk through the door. The room they've made up for me to sleep in tonight is in the attic, which they've converted into an entertainment/guestroom. The stairs you walk up to this old attic is like something right out of Anne Frank. It's so awesome! Randy gave me a tour of the house, and then since it was already pretty late, we said goodnight. As I was getting ready for bed, Randy popped in real quick with a glass of white wine from this area, which is said to be the best white wine in all the world. It was indeed absolutely delicious. For sure the best white wine I've ever had. I'm so thankful for Randy and Jan (whom I'll get to meet tomorrow). Randy (and I'm sure Jan too) is a wonderful guy, and is so generous to allow me to stay in his beautiful home, even despite the crazy time I've arrived on.
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I stayed up in my room, enjoying it, and cooking up a storm until the time came when I had to pack up my things and check out. I made sure to relieve the place of any soaps or shampoo, stuffing them into my bag wherever I could fit them.
I checked out, and as she said she would, the nice lady at the front desk let me leave my bags behind the desk with her until it was time to catch my train. Now roomless, but free of baggage, I still had about 4 hours to kill before I had to start looking for my train. I felt I'd pretty much done everything a guy can do in Zermatt if he's not going to ski or go on a huge hike, so all that was left was just to relax. I walked over by the river again, and crossed it by jumping rock to rock. I was much more graceful this time around because of the practice yesterday. I found a lovely place right at the riverbed, under the shade of a rather large bush, and laid right down in the mud. The cool mud felt great on my back, and a rock supported my head. It was a hobo's paradise. As I laid there, I listened to the rhythm of the river, and watched the puffy white clouds overhead. As I rested, I hummed songs and hymns, waiting for my eyes to get heavy enough to sleep. Hikers passed by me on the other side of the river and smiled, I could tell they were envious of my very Tom Sawyer type situation, and content light heartedness. When I noticed them, I just tipped my hat and smiled right back. Life was good.
That lasted about an hour and a half, and then I felt the need to get up again. I started walking back up, trying to find a path I hadn't taken. When I got to one, I noticed it split off into 2 directions. One went up, and one went down. I remembered what I'd taught myself about paths that split off like this: Whenever you can, always take the high road first. The reason for this is that you want to take the road that's going to be a more difficult climb first so that when you get to the top, and you're tired from climbing, you have it all down hill the rest of the way. If you took the low road first, you're tired from walking, and now you have to walk twice the distance, all the way up hill. It's really just a good way to save energy. I took my advice, and climbed up the high path for a ways, but it didn't really lead me anywhere I wanted to go. It seemed to be following the ski slope back up to the top of the mountain where I'd have nothing to do but just walk down again, so I turned around and took the low Road this time. It lead me along a little bit prettier views, and eventually to a bench where I sat for a while and listened to my iPod. When that had eaten up another hour, I walked in large circles, through the town until my time was up.
At just after 5, I picked up my backpack and Mr. Windlehatpee, and caught my train on the first leg of my journey to Visp. In this trip to Colmar, because there's no real direct way, I have to change trains 4 different times; once every hour. It's kind of a pain, but at least it's only a 4 and a half hour train ride all together. It could have been a lot worse. I could have to do the same thing with a 16 hour train ride like the one from Dubrovnik to Budapest. I'd take this train ride over that one any day.
On my way to Visp, I sat next to this awesome Scottish man named Ken. We got to talking while on the train, and eventually became friends. He was just in Zermatt meeting up with some old friends who get together every year, or every other year, I can't remember which. Evidently, they used to all be a folk band together. He noticed my fiddle, and asked me where I'd gotten it. When I told him I'd bought it in Ireland, he frowned and said I should have gotten it in Scotland. I told him I'd figured the fiddle was more of an Irish instrument, and Scotland had the Bagpipe. He was dismayed to hear the fiddle being called an Irish instrument, but granted me that Scotland does merit the Bagpipe. "The thing about the Bagpipe," he said "is that it really only plays at one volume: f**kin loud. The fiddle is a softer, more intimate instrument, which plays at a multitude of different volumes." I said I agreed with him, and that's why I love the fiddle so much. He joked with me that since I'd bought a fiddle in Ireland, I should have bought a Bagpipe in Scotland too. I expressed to him the obvious difficulty that would present, even just beyond the Bagpipe costing at least 3 times as much. He agreed, and we talked about the awkwardness of the bagpipe, and how it's not an easy instrument to play. He said it's not so much in the strength of forcing the air through the mouthpiece, but keeping the bag up and inflated while working the part where your hands go (I can't remember what it's called). He stayed with me through 2 train changes, and then he helped me find my next train, and we said goodbye.
On the last 2 trains, I just sat and listened to my iPod until I'd finally reached Colmar. I wasn't exactly sure how Randy was supposed to find me. He said on the phone that he was just going to be waiting for me at the train station, but it occurred to me that he hasn't seen me since I was 2 years old. I think we can safely assume that I no longer look anything like I did at 2, so I thought there might be an issue. I looked around at everyone at the platform, trying to find someone who looked like they were waiting for someone, but everyone with this look had just found who they were looking for. I remembered that When Mark and Deb picked me up in Naples, they weren't waiting at the platform, but just outside waiting for me to come out of the station. I walked out of the station, and as soon as I got outside, I saw a man get out of his car about 25 meters in front of me. He looked something like the picture of Randy I'd seen, but I couldn't really tell because it was too far to see without sufficient light. He wandered towards me, seemingly wondering the same thing, although neither of us wanted to yell the others name, and be wrong. We moved toward each other, until finally he took the chance. "Tyler?" He asked, "Randy?" I said back. We quickly closed the distance between us, and shook hands. I was relieved it was in fact, him. We caught up a little on the way back to his home. There was a lot of ground to cover for 19 years. He asked about my parents and sister, and I tried to catch him up on a very brief overview of where they all are now, and what they're doing. He told of some things he'd been doing over here, and explained to me what the next couple of days were going to be like. Apparently, I'd arrived just as 3 different groups of college kids were also arriving to stay with them. I apologized for the terrible timing, and assured him I'd be as little trouble as possible, but he told me it was no trouble at all. On the way to the house, he tried to show me some sights as we passed by, but it was too dark to see much of anything, so he said I'd see it all tomorrow in the light. He mentioned some of the history of the area, and pointed out the fields where trenches still stood from WW1 in the time when this particular area was the main battlefield of the eastern front. He said that this land has changed hands 4 different times since the late 1800s, and as of now is officially still controlled by Germany even though its technically part of France. Jan and Randy's home was occupied by the Nazis in WW2. Randy showed me the building next door which was blown to pieces by an Allied air raid. The house absolutely does look like it could have housed Germans in WW2. It looks like the houses you see in old WW2 films, and it carries that feeling of history with it as soon as you walk through the door. The room they've made up for me to sleep in tonight is in the attic, which they've converted into an entertainment/guestroom. The stairs you walk up to this old attic is like something right out of Anne Frank. It's so awesome! Randy gave me a tour of the house, and then since it was already pretty late, we said goodnight. As I was getting ready for bed, Randy popped in real quick with a glass of white wine from this area, which is said to be the best white wine in all the world. It was indeed absolutely delicious. For sure the best white wine I've ever had. I'm so thankful for Randy and Jan (whom I'll get to meet tomorrow). Randy (and I'm sure Jan too) is a wonderful guy, and is so generous to allow me to stay in his beautiful home, even despite the crazy time I've arrived on.
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Saturday, May 3, 2008
How To be A Man
This morning I got up, and went down to break fast. I followed the basic routine I did yesterday, breakfast then back to the room to shower, and off to the grocery store to pickup some food for the day. After dropping off my food, I took a little walk. The clouds had come in a little bit, and the clear blue which had been, was now gone. The clouds were all bright white, but a looming gray over the Matterhorn which completely covered the peak of it. The giant mountain looked ominous, and powerful with its terrible cloak of foreshadow.
I walked along the path I did last night, but I took a different route. Instead of heading up toward the mountain, I went down to the river. When I reached the old wooden bridge, I strayed off the path down to the river bed, and crossed by way of jumping rock to rock. There was still some snow down this far, though most of it in the city had melted away. Even this snow was too icy now to really be called snow. I wandered along the river's edge looking for a place to sit and think, and when I finally found a rock I could perch myself on I let myself sit in deep thought for a while.
Something which has troubled me in the past is the question of what truly makes a man. How am I to know, and take pride in the fact of being a man of worth? I'm not talking, of course, of the gender of man, but more of it's figurative meaning. It seems clear that some men are not worthy of the title, while others are pointed out right away to be "Great Men". In my mind I've always differentiated between a good man, and a good person. Some men are great, but terrible people. While others nice, and interesting to be around, but lack the qualities of a great man. I'd like to consider myself something great, but I'm never convinced I've yet accomplished this. I'm not by any means rich or successful, however I don't believe that's what makes a man great. I feel like there have been many great men who lead very humble lives. Many of them do great things for the world, but I'm also convinced there are several whom history has never recognized. I've heard that a man always stands up for what's right, although every man fails at some point to do the right thing. No one's perfect, so does that mean someone would lose their status until earning it back by doing the right thing? Is it a point system, or a rank of society?
Perhaps being a man is admitting ones faults, and striving to amend them. I've told of several of my faults during the course of this trip, however, some of which are irreversible. I can't make up for things done in my childhood, or lovers taken advantage of. I can't take back the thoughts, and words said in anger. I suppose the most I can do is try to avoid them this time around. But I'm going to screw up again. I'm going to make the same mistakes over and over. I know I'll always be susceptible to anger, and lust which can often feel like love, and I still can't tell the difference.
When I was 18, my father knighted me with a sword he'd had inscribed for my graduation from High School. He told me, now I am a man, and charged me to go forth into the world as such. I was honored, and excited to be accepted by him, who now viewed me as a fellow man, and no longer a child. I think all sons want their fathers to view them as equals, and welcome them into their circle. A father's approval is an important thing in the life of a son. It's where we get a lot of our images of what a man is. I've always thought my father to be a great man. I very much admire his passion. You'll never find a man who works harder, and cares more about what he's set his mind to. In impossible circumstances, and certain defeats, my father brazenly charges forth to meet his adversity with eyes wide open. I've never once looked at my father and thought, "He'll back down." He lays everything on the line at every chance he gets, and loses as often as he wins. However, I've never been left wanting. My family's needs were always met. Somehow, despite always overwhelming odds, he pulls through carrying the same passion and fervor he started out with. That, to me, is a very manly quality. One which I hope, I too, possess.
When I got cold, and cramped from sitting there on the rock, I made my way back the way I came. I passed by the church in the center of town, and wandered through the cemetery next to it. There's a section of it dedicated to those who died climbing the Matterhorn. I was immediately amazed how many headstones there were. I was even more amazed that the majority were less than 30 years old. "Cut down in their prime" some said, "fell to their death." Countless stones recounting the memory of how their loved ones met their end. I walked through briefly reading each one, until I was stopped at a particular headstone which caught my eye. A name and date on it, told of an American from New York who died just 2 months after his 18th birthday. On the inscription read only: "I chose to climb." His pickaxe was bolted to the side of the stone, and rusted from the weather and time. I read the words again, and replayed them in my head. Something inside me was moved by the simplicity of it. There was no explanation, or sobbing lament of death on a lonely mountain at only 18 years old. Just a choice. Should I climb, or not? The decision ultimately ended in his death, but he had decided at 18, where he wanted to face that danger. It may have been an easy decision for him, or it may have been one he struggled with. I'm sure several friends and family members warned against it, perhaps even pleaded with him not to go. I'm sure he was on a quest like mine, to figure out some things about himself, and he thought he'd find his answers on the peak of a mountain. He chose to take up the quest, and fight back the doubt. He chose to do what has hard, even if it cost him his life. He chose to climb.
That's the man I want to be. I want to climb. I want to chose to face my challenge, and hold that line to the end of my life. I want the courage, and passion to risk everything, and the faith to keep looking forward. I think that, more than just doing the right thing, is what being a great man is about.
Tomorrow I leave for Colmar, France. My train's at 5:39pm, and gets in at about 10:13pm. Jan and Randy said they'd meet me at the station, so I'm excited to finally meet them. Keep commenting on my blogs, I really like reading your thoughts and encouragements.
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I walked along the path I did last night, but I took a different route. Instead of heading up toward the mountain, I went down to the river. When I reached the old wooden bridge, I strayed off the path down to the river bed, and crossed by way of jumping rock to rock. There was still some snow down this far, though most of it in the city had melted away. Even this snow was too icy now to really be called snow. I wandered along the river's edge looking for a place to sit and think, and when I finally found a rock I could perch myself on I let myself sit in deep thought for a while.
Something which has troubled me in the past is the question of what truly makes a man. How am I to know, and take pride in the fact of being a man of worth? I'm not talking, of course, of the gender of man, but more of it's figurative meaning. It seems clear that some men are not worthy of the title, while others are pointed out right away to be "Great Men". In my mind I've always differentiated between a good man, and a good person. Some men are great, but terrible people. While others nice, and interesting to be around, but lack the qualities of a great man. I'd like to consider myself something great, but I'm never convinced I've yet accomplished this. I'm not by any means rich or successful, however I don't believe that's what makes a man great. I feel like there have been many great men who lead very humble lives. Many of them do great things for the world, but I'm also convinced there are several whom history has never recognized. I've heard that a man always stands up for what's right, although every man fails at some point to do the right thing. No one's perfect, so does that mean someone would lose their status until earning it back by doing the right thing? Is it a point system, or a rank of society?
Perhaps being a man is admitting ones faults, and striving to amend them. I've told of several of my faults during the course of this trip, however, some of which are irreversible. I can't make up for things done in my childhood, or lovers taken advantage of. I can't take back the thoughts, and words said in anger. I suppose the most I can do is try to avoid them this time around. But I'm going to screw up again. I'm going to make the same mistakes over and over. I know I'll always be susceptible to anger, and lust which can often feel like love, and I still can't tell the difference.
When I was 18, my father knighted me with a sword he'd had inscribed for my graduation from High School. He told me, now I am a man, and charged me to go forth into the world as such. I was honored, and excited to be accepted by him, who now viewed me as a fellow man, and no longer a child. I think all sons want their fathers to view them as equals, and welcome them into their circle. A father's approval is an important thing in the life of a son. It's where we get a lot of our images of what a man is. I've always thought my father to be a great man. I very much admire his passion. You'll never find a man who works harder, and cares more about what he's set his mind to. In impossible circumstances, and certain defeats, my father brazenly charges forth to meet his adversity with eyes wide open. I've never once looked at my father and thought, "He'll back down." He lays everything on the line at every chance he gets, and loses as often as he wins. However, I've never been left wanting. My family's needs were always met. Somehow, despite always overwhelming odds, he pulls through carrying the same passion and fervor he started out with. That, to me, is a very manly quality. One which I hope, I too, possess.
When I got cold, and cramped from sitting there on the rock, I made my way back the way I came. I passed by the church in the center of town, and wandered through the cemetery next to it. There's a section of it dedicated to those who died climbing the Matterhorn. I was immediately amazed how many headstones there were. I was even more amazed that the majority were less than 30 years old. "Cut down in their prime" some said, "fell to their death." Countless stones recounting the memory of how their loved ones met their end. I walked through briefly reading each one, until I was stopped at a particular headstone which caught my eye. A name and date on it, told of an American from New York who died just 2 months after his 18th birthday. On the inscription read only: "I chose to climb." His pickaxe was bolted to the side of the stone, and rusted from the weather and time. I read the words again, and replayed them in my head. Something inside me was moved by the simplicity of it. There was no explanation, or sobbing lament of death on a lonely mountain at only 18 years old. Just a choice. Should I climb, or not? The decision ultimately ended in his death, but he had decided at 18, where he wanted to face that danger. It may have been an easy decision for him, or it may have been one he struggled with. I'm sure several friends and family members warned against it, perhaps even pleaded with him not to go. I'm sure he was on a quest like mine, to figure out some things about himself, and he thought he'd find his answers on the peak of a mountain. He chose to take up the quest, and fight back the doubt. He chose to do what has hard, even if it cost him his life. He chose to climb.
That's the man I want to be. I want to climb. I want to chose to face my challenge, and hold that line to the end of my life. I want the courage, and passion to risk everything, and the faith to keep looking forward. I think that, more than just doing the right thing, is what being a great man is about.
Tomorrow I leave for Colmar, France. My train's at 5:39pm, and gets in at about 10:13pm. Jan and Randy said they'd meet me at the station, so I'm excited to finally meet them. Keep commenting on my blogs, I really like reading your thoughts and encouragements.
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T
Friday, May 2, 2008
Living in Zermatt
I slept very well in my luxurious Swiss apartment. I woke up before my alarm wen off, and just lied in bed until it did, then I got up to go down to breakfast. However, I expected a little bit more from this place in that area. It wasn't terrible, but it wasn't really anything more than I'd already been getting. There was bread, cereal, some assorted fruit slices, lunch meat slices, and Swiss cheese (which I thought was very clever). I guess I was expecting breakfast here to be a little more like their expensive lunch and dinner menus. Maybe some french toast, pancakes, at least a pastry or something. Although, it was free so I had my fill of it happily.
After breakfast, I went back up to my room, showered and got ready for the day. One thing I love about hotels is that they already provide everything you need, so you don't have to use any of your own things like soap, toothpaste, and towels. This place in particular is packed full of little luxuries. I'll have a great time when I leave here, continuing my longstanding tradition of taking everything that isn't bolted to the floor. You can never have enough towels, or soaps, ashtrays, drinking glasses, silverware, tissues, or sheets. I'd take the chairs if I could fit them on my back, but they'd probably notice.
As I was just getting ready to leave, I heard a key slip into the lock on my door. They'd sent up a cleaning lady, who must have assumed I was already out of the room. I hate it when they just enter in without knocking, or doing any sort of check to make sure I'm not naked, or still in bed. Several times during my trip I've been just hanging out either in bed, or just partially clothed when the cleaning lady decides to come strolling in. This time however, I was fully clothed and already out of the showever, although only just. As she fiddled with the key I figured I'd have a little fun, and greet her at the door. Without saying a word, I placed myself right in front of the doorway, and waited for it to open. To her great suprise, there I was smiling down at here when she finally got the door open. She let out a scream, and leaped back dropping all her cleaning equipment all over the hallway. I stood there smiling, and nodded to her as if to say, "I'm still here". She backed up, and appologised profusely, and said she'd go now, and come back another time. I said that'd be great, and slowly closed the door as she gathered her things to leave. I heard her let out an embarrassed laugh from the other side of the door, as she ran to tell another cleaning lady what just happened. I sat there and laughed myself for a while, remembering the look on her face. It was absolutely priceless. I'll bet nothing even remotely like that has ever happened to her. I'm sure from now on she'll knock before entering to clean.
I had a couple arrands to run today, first of which was to figure out where to go from here. I'd talked to the Kents, who were expecting me in Colmar, France, and we worked out that the 4th or 5th would be a good time to come up. So I found a train leaving here on Sunday the 4th in the late afternoon which gets in at 10:13 in Colmar. This means I'm going to be staying here one more day, so I went back to the hotel and reserved my room for one more night. I also explained that on the day I leave, my train doesn't depart until about 5:30, so I asked if I could store my bags somewhere on that day until I leave. The lady at the desk was so nice, and she said I didn't have to check out till 1pm, and then when I did, I could leave my bags behind the desk with her.
The next order of business was to find a grocery store to get some food for today. With the help of that same lady, I found a perfect little food market just around the corner. I spent some time browsing through things, weighing costs, and remembering if I even knew how to cook certain things. I finally settled on a (very easily oven cooked) frozen pizza for lunch, and then cheeze torellini for dinner. I also bought some bananas because I'd been craving them, and some boxed cookies for dessert. I was very proud of myself, that I went down and bought groceries that I was going to cook for myself. I felt all grown up. After grocery shopping I stopped into a few little shops that weren't open yesterday. I went into a book store where they had a couple English books, however nothing I was looking for, it seems. I also looked at some beautiful music boxes I found in another shop. One day I'll have a little daughter I can buy a Swiss music box for, but until then I'll just look.
I tried to work on uploading some pictures today, but that just proved unbelievably frustrating. My laptop just isn't what it used to me. It can't even perform simple tasks anymore at any sort of decent speed. I even tried deleting everything on it that wasn't vitally importaint to free up some space, but still it just won't do it. I worked on it for about an hour and a half before I became so frustrated that I just wanted to chuck it out the window. I have so many photos that have just accumulated from times I've had no internet that any time I try to Upload them onto Flickr, my computer freaks out. After 2 hours, and I'd gotten about 2 photos uploaded, I finally gave up and decided I needed to go take a walk before I exploded. Walking was just what I needed to do.
I felt so much more calm, and peaceful staring up at the Matterhorn, and feeling the chilled wind on my face. I caught the occasional whiff of barbeque as I passed by several steak houses, and that scent mixed with the icy air brought back fond memories of family trips to Mammoth in the winter. I listened to my iPod as I walked full circle around the city. As I reached the end, I noticed a small dirt path I hadn't seen before which lead up away from the city. It headed right towards the Matterhorn, and seemed to curve way up into the mountains, so I followed the path outside the city. It was about dusk when I started off down the path, and it turned into a little "Night Hike" through the Alps. I didn't go really all that far. I followed the path up only about an hour (it went a lot further than that) until the city was far out of sight, and then I turned back. It was nice though, to see the beautiful green hills, and watch as the sun dipped down under the horizon, although coming back was a little creepy in the dark. The dead leafless trees, and winding dirt roads don't look quite as friendly in the dark by yourself when you can't see any civilization around you. But I did make it back safely, and cooked myself dinner. I managed only to destroy the kitchen a little bit, but it tasted good enough. Now I'll just hang out, relax and watch some TV. Perhaps in a bit I'll go out and smoke my pipe on the balcony. It's been so wonderful relaxing here in Zermatt.
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T
After breakfast, I went back up to my room, showered and got ready for the day. One thing I love about hotels is that they already provide everything you need, so you don't have to use any of your own things like soap, toothpaste, and towels. This place in particular is packed full of little luxuries. I'll have a great time when I leave here, continuing my longstanding tradition of taking everything that isn't bolted to the floor. You can never have enough towels, or soaps, ashtrays, drinking glasses, silverware, tissues, or sheets. I'd take the chairs if I could fit them on my back, but they'd probably notice.
As I was just getting ready to leave, I heard a key slip into the lock on my door. They'd sent up a cleaning lady, who must have assumed I was already out of the room. I hate it when they just enter in without knocking, or doing any sort of check to make sure I'm not naked, or still in bed. Several times during my trip I've been just hanging out either in bed, or just partially clothed when the cleaning lady decides to come strolling in. This time however, I was fully clothed and already out of the showever, although only just. As she fiddled with the key I figured I'd have a little fun, and greet her at the door. Without saying a word, I placed myself right in front of the doorway, and waited for it to open. To her great suprise, there I was smiling down at here when she finally got the door open. She let out a scream, and leaped back dropping all her cleaning equipment all over the hallway. I stood there smiling, and nodded to her as if to say, "I'm still here". She backed up, and appologised profusely, and said she'd go now, and come back another time. I said that'd be great, and slowly closed the door as she gathered her things to leave. I heard her let out an embarrassed laugh from the other side of the door, as she ran to tell another cleaning lady what just happened. I sat there and laughed myself for a while, remembering the look on her face. It was absolutely priceless. I'll bet nothing even remotely like that has ever happened to her. I'm sure from now on she'll knock before entering to clean.
I had a couple arrands to run today, first of which was to figure out where to go from here. I'd talked to the Kents, who were expecting me in Colmar, France, and we worked out that the 4th or 5th would be a good time to come up. So I found a train leaving here on Sunday the 4th in the late afternoon which gets in at 10:13 in Colmar. This means I'm going to be staying here one more day, so I went back to the hotel and reserved my room for one more night. I also explained that on the day I leave, my train doesn't depart until about 5:30, so I asked if I could store my bags somewhere on that day until I leave. The lady at the desk was so nice, and she said I didn't have to check out till 1pm, and then when I did, I could leave my bags behind the desk with her.
The next order of business was to find a grocery store to get some food for today. With the help of that same lady, I found a perfect little food market just around the corner. I spent some time browsing through things, weighing costs, and remembering if I even knew how to cook certain things. I finally settled on a (very easily oven cooked) frozen pizza for lunch, and then cheeze torellini for dinner. I also bought some bananas because I'd been craving them, and some boxed cookies for dessert. I was very proud of myself, that I went down and bought groceries that I was going to cook for myself. I felt all grown up. After grocery shopping I stopped into a few little shops that weren't open yesterday. I went into a book store where they had a couple English books, however nothing I was looking for, it seems. I also looked at some beautiful music boxes I found in another shop. One day I'll have a little daughter I can buy a Swiss music box for, but until then I'll just look.
I tried to work on uploading some pictures today, but that just proved unbelievably frustrating. My laptop just isn't what it used to me. It can't even perform simple tasks anymore at any sort of decent speed. I even tried deleting everything on it that wasn't vitally importaint to free up some space, but still it just won't do it. I worked on it for about an hour and a half before I became so frustrated that I just wanted to chuck it out the window. I have so many photos that have just accumulated from times I've had no internet that any time I try to Upload them onto Flickr, my computer freaks out. After 2 hours, and I'd gotten about 2 photos uploaded, I finally gave up and decided I needed to go take a walk before I exploded. Walking was just what I needed to do.
I felt so much more calm, and peaceful staring up at the Matterhorn, and feeling the chilled wind on my face. I caught the occasional whiff of barbeque as I passed by several steak houses, and that scent mixed with the icy air brought back fond memories of family trips to Mammoth in the winter. I listened to my iPod as I walked full circle around the city. As I reached the end, I noticed a small dirt path I hadn't seen before which lead up away from the city. It headed right towards the Matterhorn, and seemed to curve way up into the mountains, so I followed the path outside the city. It was about dusk when I started off down the path, and it turned into a little "Night Hike" through the Alps. I didn't go really all that far. I followed the path up only about an hour (it went a lot further than that) until the city was far out of sight, and then I turned back. It was nice though, to see the beautiful green hills, and watch as the sun dipped down under the horizon, although coming back was a little creepy in the dark. The dead leafless trees, and winding dirt roads don't look quite as friendly in the dark by yourself when you can't see any civilization around you. But I did make it back safely, and cooked myself dinner. I managed only to destroy the kitchen a little bit, but it tasted good enough. Now I'll just hang out, relax and watch some TV. Perhaps in a bit I'll go out and smoke my pipe on the balcony. It's been so wonderful relaxing here in Zermatt.
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Zermatt, Switzerland
I woke up after having a surprisingly good night's sleep on the night train. They even served us breakfast. Well, what they called breakfast; it was a bread roll and tea. It was insanely cramped in there with 6 people in a room the size of a small walk-in closet, but we made it work. We were to arrive in Zurich very soon, where I'd be transferring to a different train going to Visp, and then from there, another one to Zermatt. It was a lot of train transfers, but I understood later why they did it that way. Zermatt is a little town right in amongst the Alps. Normal trains can't get there, so you have to transfer to a special, smaller train that can scale the mountains.
When we got to Zurich I stood on the platform and waited for my next train for 40 minutes. I wish I had some sort of eventful story to tell, but sometimes you just sit there and wait for your train. Waiting 40 minutes for my train was pretty much my experience in Zurich. In Visp I had only enough time to walk from the platform where my train stopped, to the platform where my next one was waiting. Before I knew it, I was on my last train to Zermatt. This last train, as I mentioned before, was much smaller, designed to act as a shuttle across the Alps. Needless to say, however, the journey through the Alps was an experience to remember. The views were some of the most beautiful sights I've seen on my trip thus far. Green rolling fields to snow covered masterpieces. I felt like I had fallen into an old painting of Switzerland 100 years ago. The countryside was scattered with tiny cottages exactly like what you see in movies, or old TV shows. I always thought that was sort of a stereotype of Swiss culture, but they actually look exactly like that. The mountains rose so high all around, that I had to strain to see all the way to the top. In certain areas, the melting snow poured off the side in waterfalls, filling river beds with water so cold it looked murky. My train was full of elderly British tourists, who I'm guessing were all on a tour together. This seemed reminiscent of my ferry to Croatia with the old Germans, except this time I actually understood them.
Passing through mountains, tiny villages and cattle, we finally entered Zermatt. Exiting the train, I saw an assortment of backpackers, hikers, skiers, and European families on vacation. The whole place was a huge ski resort. I was so enamored with the beautiful fresh powder snow covering everything, and the absolutely amazing white hills, I almost didn't know what to do first. I walked into the tourist information center, and got a map, making sure to have the front desk attendant point out where we were right now. Then I asked about hostels in the area. The woman told me there was one, but she didn't know if it'd be all filled up already. She seemed to think it was going to be pretty hard to come across a decent room here without a previous reservation, in fact most people keep warning me of that as we're now entering the big tourist season. She gave me the number for the front desk of the hostel, but the reception was closed. I looked at my map, and figured there's gotta be some kind of cheaper hotel here that I walk to which has some room; the city's not very big at all. So I gathered my stuff, and decided I'd just start walking down the main road stopping at wherever I could find to ask for a room. As soon as I looked down main street, I was very surprised to see that there were hotels absolutely everywhere! I passed by some 4 star hotels, and wandered into a 3 star. I asked the front desk in there was anything available. Again to my surprise there was in fact, a room open. It was 90 Swiss Frank a night (60 euros), which is exactly what I paid for my crappy hotel in Venice, so I figured that's a pretty standard 3 star hotel price, and I didn't think I was going to get much better than that here. Out of all the hotels I found, most of them were 4 and 5 star. Things are very expensive here, centrally because it's a big ski resort for Europeans. One nice thing about it though, is that each Swiss Frank is roughly worth one US Dollar. I think the dollar still gets the benefit of the doubt, but it's pretty much right on. So I don't have to do any sort of conversion in my head, to see what things cost in my budget. The other nice things, is that everywhere here (because of their European tourists) takes credit cards, and also accepts Euros so I don't have to change out all my cash.
I reserved 2 nights in the hotel to start with, the front desk called it a studio, but I just figured that's what they were calling it to make it sound bigger, so I'd pay for it. However, entering the room I saw that it actually is a studio apartment. I have my own full bathroom, kitchen, and balcony. I was ecstatic! This was the coolest thing ever, in the coolest place ever with a view that made me never want to leave. As soon I could tear myself away from my awesome room, I went back down to the front desk to get some information about where things were in the city. I asked where I might find grocery store because now that I have a kitchen, I thought it'd be fun as well as more cost effective to go get a bunch of stuff from the market, and make myself meals. However she told me that most things, including the market, are closed today because it's Sunday. I said ok, and didn't think much of it until I checked my phone and realized that it's actually Thursday, then I was thoroughly confused. As she said, most things have been closed all day, and I can't figure out why. It's definitely not Sunday, but maybe it has something to do with the first of the month. People tell me that things will be open again tomorrow, but it's been difficult to find decently priced food within the city. The only restaurants open today are the the ones inside the 4 and 5 star hotels in which I'd end up paying 20 bucks for a plate of spaghetti. I decided to hold out as long as I could in terms eating, and make give my meals more mileage. Instead I went exploring the city.
Zermatt is a really tiny city. You can walk around the whole thing in less than an hour, but it's absolutely gorgeous. You walk out onto the street and all around you are these amazing mountains. A small river divides Zermatt in two, and on the far end, old Swiss homes crawl up the hill side. There's a modest church in the center of town, with a small cemetery around it. Up the side of the hill, there's a single ski lift leading up the mountain. However, perhaps the most beautiful, and certainly most famous site is the Matterhorn towering up over all other mountains. It's one of the most beautiful things I have yet seen. It's an absolute symbol of majesty. I thought, before I arrived here, that the Matterhorn would be off in the distance somewhere, blending into the rest of the Alps. I thought I might have to have someone point it out to me so I'd know what I was looking at. However, as soon as I turned the corner onto the main street I was struck with awe. It's so close I feel like I could just go walking up it, and it looks just how I've seen it in pictures, covered with snow, jetting out into the clear blue sky. It almost looks out of place standing there miles taller than anything else. I couldn't take my eyes off it. I still can't every time I look at it. I just can't believe what I'm seeing. People pass by me, making no notice of it, as if it's just some normal thing. I can't even grasp that. I've wanted to see this mountain my entire life. When I was a little kid, I used to play a game with myself whenever I went to Disneyland, to find the top of the Matterhorn, because that meant we were finally there. Here I am staring at the REAL Matterhorn, and I'm in awe. When I was finally able to tear myself away from staring at it, and after I'd taken a couple thousand pictures of it, I decided to find something to tide me over till dinner. After some searching, I actually found a pretty cool bakery, which also sold freshly made sandwiches (odd paring I thought, but it worked well). It was certainly a whole lot cheaper, and the sandwiches were pretty good quality. I bought one sandwich, and some Almond brittle, and it was all together only about 7 bucks. I also found a sporting goods store (because there are thousands of them here), and bought a thermos to hold water I can purify from the tap, so I won't have to keep paying for water bottles.
When dinner time came around I debated with myself about what to do. I'd seen a steak house just around the corner from where my apartment was, and it sounded really good, but it was starting at 30 dollars a plate. I looked for some cheaper options, but like I said before, just about everywhere else was closed till tomorrow. Luckily earlier today Jamie had sent me exactly 30 dollars, so I figured I'd use that to have myself a nice steak dinner tonight, and then tomorrow I'd grab some stuff from the grocery store and cook. So I went to the Steak House, and ordered myself a sirloin steak, country fries, and some beer from Denmark. I felt full and happy afterwards. It was fantastic! Thanks for dinner, Jamie!
After dinner, I saw the sun set over the Matterhorn, and watched a Genesis concert on TV via my awesome apartment. It's wonderful here. People are friendly, the scenery's gorgeous, and there's lots of snow to play in. I'm excited to play more tomorrow.
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T
When we got to Zurich I stood on the platform and waited for my next train for 40 minutes. I wish I had some sort of eventful story to tell, but sometimes you just sit there and wait for your train. Waiting 40 minutes for my train was pretty much my experience in Zurich. In Visp I had only enough time to walk from the platform where my train stopped, to the platform where my next one was waiting. Before I knew it, I was on my last train to Zermatt. This last train, as I mentioned before, was much smaller, designed to act as a shuttle across the Alps. Needless to say, however, the journey through the Alps was an experience to remember. The views were some of the most beautiful sights I've seen on my trip thus far. Green rolling fields to snow covered masterpieces. I felt like I had fallen into an old painting of Switzerland 100 years ago. The countryside was scattered with tiny cottages exactly like what you see in movies, or old TV shows. I always thought that was sort of a stereotype of Swiss culture, but they actually look exactly like that. The mountains rose so high all around, that I had to strain to see all the way to the top. In certain areas, the melting snow poured off the side in waterfalls, filling river beds with water so cold it looked murky. My train was full of elderly British tourists, who I'm guessing were all on a tour together. This seemed reminiscent of my ferry to Croatia with the old Germans, except this time I actually understood them.
Passing through mountains, tiny villages and cattle, we finally entered Zermatt. Exiting the train, I saw an assortment of backpackers, hikers, skiers, and European families on vacation. The whole place was a huge ski resort. I was so enamored with the beautiful fresh powder snow covering everything, and the absolutely amazing white hills, I almost didn't know what to do first. I walked into the tourist information center, and got a map, making sure to have the front desk attendant point out where we were right now. Then I asked about hostels in the area. The woman told me there was one, but she didn't know if it'd be all filled up already. She seemed to think it was going to be pretty hard to come across a decent room here without a previous reservation, in fact most people keep warning me of that as we're now entering the big tourist season. She gave me the number for the front desk of the hostel, but the reception was closed. I looked at my map, and figured there's gotta be some kind of cheaper hotel here that I walk to which has some room; the city's not very big at all. So I gathered my stuff, and decided I'd just start walking down the main road stopping at wherever I could find to ask for a room. As soon as I looked down main street, I was very surprised to see that there were hotels absolutely everywhere! I passed by some 4 star hotels, and wandered into a 3 star. I asked the front desk in there was anything available. Again to my surprise there was in fact, a room open. It was 90 Swiss Frank a night (60 euros), which is exactly what I paid for my crappy hotel in Venice, so I figured that's a pretty standard 3 star hotel price, and I didn't think I was going to get much better than that here. Out of all the hotels I found, most of them were 4 and 5 star. Things are very expensive here, centrally because it's a big ski resort for Europeans. One nice thing about it though, is that each Swiss Frank is roughly worth one US Dollar. I think the dollar still gets the benefit of the doubt, but it's pretty much right on. So I don't have to do any sort of conversion in my head, to see what things cost in my budget. The other nice things, is that everywhere here (because of their European tourists) takes credit cards, and also accepts Euros so I don't have to change out all my cash.
I reserved 2 nights in the hotel to start with, the front desk called it a studio, but I just figured that's what they were calling it to make it sound bigger, so I'd pay for it. However, entering the room I saw that it actually is a studio apartment. I have my own full bathroom, kitchen, and balcony. I was ecstatic! This was the coolest thing ever, in the coolest place ever with a view that made me never want to leave. As soon I could tear myself away from my awesome room, I went back down to the front desk to get some information about where things were in the city. I asked where I might find grocery store because now that I have a kitchen, I thought it'd be fun as well as more cost effective to go get a bunch of stuff from the market, and make myself meals. However she told me that most things, including the market, are closed today because it's Sunday. I said ok, and didn't think much of it until I checked my phone and realized that it's actually Thursday, then I was thoroughly confused. As she said, most things have been closed all day, and I can't figure out why. It's definitely not Sunday, but maybe it has something to do with the first of the month. People tell me that things will be open again tomorrow, but it's been difficult to find decently priced food within the city. The only restaurants open today are the the ones inside the 4 and 5 star hotels in which I'd end up paying 20 bucks for a plate of spaghetti. I decided to hold out as long as I could in terms eating, and make give my meals more mileage. Instead I went exploring the city.
Zermatt is a really tiny city. You can walk around the whole thing in less than an hour, but it's absolutely gorgeous. You walk out onto the street and all around you are these amazing mountains. A small river divides Zermatt in two, and on the far end, old Swiss homes crawl up the hill side. There's a modest church in the center of town, with a small cemetery around it. Up the side of the hill, there's a single ski lift leading up the mountain. However, perhaps the most beautiful, and certainly most famous site is the Matterhorn towering up over all other mountains. It's one of the most beautiful things I have yet seen. It's an absolute symbol of majesty. I thought, before I arrived here, that the Matterhorn would be off in the distance somewhere, blending into the rest of the Alps. I thought I might have to have someone point it out to me so I'd know what I was looking at. However, as soon as I turned the corner onto the main street I was struck with awe. It's so close I feel like I could just go walking up it, and it looks just how I've seen it in pictures, covered with snow, jetting out into the clear blue sky. It almost looks out of place standing there miles taller than anything else. I couldn't take my eyes off it. I still can't every time I look at it. I just can't believe what I'm seeing. People pass by me, making no notice of it, as if it's just some normal thing. I can't even grasp that. I've wanted to see this mountain my entire life. When I was a little kid, I used to play a game with myself whenever I went to Disneyland, to find the top of the Matterhorn, because that meant we were finally there. Here I am staring at the REAL Matterhorn, and I'm in awe. When I was finally able to tear myself away from staring at it, and after I'd taken a couple thousand pictures of it, I decided to find something to tide me over till dinner. After some searching, I actually found a pretty cool bakery, which also sold freshly made sandwiches (odd paring I thought, but it worked well). It was certainly a whole lot cheaper, and the sandwiches were pretty good quality. I bought one sandwich, and some Almond brittle, and it was all together only about 7 bucks. I also found a sporting goods store (because there are thousands of them here), and bought a thermos to hold water I can purify from the tap, so I won't have to keep paying for water bottles.
When dinner time came around I debated with myself about what to do. I'd seen a steak house just around the corner from where my apartment was, and it sounded really good, but it was starting at 30 dollars a plate. I looked for some cheaper options, but like I said before, just about everywhere else was closed till tomorrow. Luckily earlier today Jamie had sent me exactly 30 dollars, so I figured I'd use that to have myself a nice steak dinner tonight, and then tomorrow I'd grab some stuff from the grocery store and cook. So I went to the Steak House, and ordered myself a sirloin steak, country fries, and some beer from Denmark. I felt full and happy afterwards. It was fantastic! Thanks for dinner, Jamie!
After dinner, I saw the sun set over the Matterhorn, and watched a Genesis concert on TV via my awesome apartment. It's wonderful here. People are friendly, the scenery's gorgeous, and there's lots of snow to play in. I'm excited to play more tomorrow.
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T
The Hills
I slept through breakfast this morning because I felt the little extra sleep might do me some good, plus the morning breakfast here in this hostel isn't complementary. You have to pay 3 euro for the breakfast buffet. I decided, as long as I'm paying for it, I'd rather pick something up on the street that's a little more quality.
I still had to get up before 10, however, because that's when check out time was, and I still had to take a shower (which is extremely important since I'll be traveling all night long tonight). I took a very quick shower, which was unfortunate because I discovered that this was one of the few hostels with a decent shower situation. I would have liked to sit there a while and soak up the nice hot water from the shower head which actually dispensed water at a normal volume, rather than just trickling out or shooting it at you like riot control. I got myself ready for the day, and then hurried down stairs to check out. I had to pack up my backpack and pull it out of the because I needed to hand back my key. However, because my train wasn't leaving till after midnight, they let me store my stuff in their luggage room for the day at no extra charge.
So now I went out to explore again, stopping by the open food market to pick up some breakfast. I bought a chocolate covered banana on some kind of breading which was delicious. Not exactly the most wholesome breakfast, but when I saw it I had to have it, because it just looked like something you should buy in Salzburg. I also picked up some water because I knew I'd need it for my hike today. I'd decided that I was going to go check out the hills outside the main city, and sit out on the grass for a while. There were hiking trails all over the hills, which I could see on my map, so I planned to just wander around in the forest and grassy fields for the majority of the day.
The hills themselves looked a whole lot closer from inside the city. Once I got walking, it took me about an hour and a half just to reach them. However, I got to walk through some of the surrounding suburbs which are beautiful. The sun was out and shining. There wasn't a cloud in the sky today, and the weather was mild enough to where I didn't even need my jacket for most of the time. The Alps were leaping out of the horizon, bright white. They jumped as if making sure you noticed them at all times. The people I past by were all as friendly as I've ever known people to be. They smiled at me, and said hello as they walked by. I followed the road in the direction of one of the walking trails which took me right through a giant field bursting with little yellow and white flowers growing all over. Through the middle was a little creek running along a very old wooden fence. It was like something out of a dream, or movie. I didn't expect this place to look exactly like it does in the movies, but it definitely does, and looks even more wonderful in person.
The trail lead me up to a forest which throughout it had more open fields which poked holes in the wooded ceiling to let the beautiful white light in. Some places I passed by looked so much like pictures I'd seen of battle fields in WW2, and I'm sure used to be just that. I climbed up higher in to denser forest, often straying from the main path to find smaller, lesser traveled paths. Eventually I got myself lost and disoriented from where I knew I was. I still followed the path, so I knew that eventually it'd spit me out somewhere, so I wasn't at all worried, in fact I was utterly thrilled to be wandering through unfamiliar forests. I found several places with breathtaking views of the city, and of the Alps, still shining clearly in the distance. I got another email from Jordan, sharing his thoughts about my views on evangelism, and I had time to just sit in solitude for a while on top of this beautiful mountain overlooking the Alps, and meditate on that question. His words, as they usually do, stirred up conversation inside me, and I wrote him back a long email regarding everything I thought about. It's wonderful to be able to sit in thought, staring at God's beautiful creation and philosophize about the way the world works. If you ever have the opportunity to just get yourself lost in the wilderness for a day, I highly recommend it, especially if it's somewhere like this. Hours went by, and I trudged on through dense trees, thick mud, and tall grass. Over bridges and streams (which I had to cross by means of balancing over a fallen tree), and past waterfalls cascading over perfectly chiseled cliff faces. I finally found a place to where the trail opened up into another giant field of tall grass and flowers. It looked exactly like the field in The Sound of Music, with an amazing view of the mountains just over the tops of the trees. I found myself starting to hum songs from The Sound of Music, but people walking by began to chuckle as they heard me, so I stopped (but secretly began again after they left). I walked into the center of it, and laid down in the tall grass. I rested there for another hour, watching people walk by on the paths on either side of the field, while children played with their dogs in the tall grass. I wished I could stay there forever, but I decided eventually it was time to find my way back.
I had a little bit of a hard time finding a way back to the main road, because I'd gotten myself so well lost in the forest. However, eventually I did find the main road, and walked back into the city and met up with Chris at the hostel.
He went out shopping with me for refills on my toiletries, showing me the places I could buy things like that in Europe. Then we went out to dinner. We first tried this place he was raving about which you have to take an elevator to, because it's right at the top of the mountain between The Castle, and an old medieval monastery. The restaurant over looks the whole city, and we got there right at six, when all the bell towers in all the city rang in the end of the day all at once. Unfortunately the restaurant was closed. Everything closes insanely early here, and apparently we had just missed it. However, we did sit outside on the railing overlooking the city, watched the sun begin to set, and talked travel stories. After a while we both started getting hungry, so we got back down to the bottom of the mountain and ate at an Italian restaurant near the lift. After dinner, we walked back to the hostel and sat for hours and talked about everything from books to politics. He recommended this author named Emilio Eco, who apparently writes these amazing mystery novels unlike any other he's ever read before. A lot of what he told me about them sounds really interesting, so I'll be looking for something written by him if I pass by a book store with books written in English. We talked politics, and philosophized everything in the world from human behavior to wold events. Our conversations gathered crowds around us who wanted to listen to what we had to say. Chris has an amazing perspective on the world, and brought to light some things I'd never even thought about before. I mostly just played the devils advocate, trying to come up with loopholes and reasons why his ideas couldn't work. However, I found myself, nearly everytime unable to combat his ideas, and instead simply shaped them with ideas of my own. Together within the span of about 3 and a half hours, we solved all the worlds problems. We joked about the fact that we just have to figure out now how to convince everyone else. At about midnight, I said goodbye to Chris, and went off to catch my train.
I boarded my train at around 12:45, and had a hell of a time trying to find my seat which had been reserved. I'd never had a reservation on a train before, I'd always (because of my Eurail pass) just found an empty seat, and sat down. However this was much more strenuous. I ended up walking down 5 cars in the wrong direction, and had to make my way back through tiny isles packed with people, until I finally found my spot. To my surpass, the ticket I booked was for a sleeping car. I'd told the woman at the counter when I made my reservation to book me in the six person compartment car, and not the sleeping car because it was more expensive. However, once I got in there, it was nice to be able to stretch out and get a good night's sleep, so maybe it was a blessing after all.
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I still had to get up before 10, however, because that's when check out time was, and I still had to take a shower (which is extremely important since I'll be traveling all night long tonight). I took a very quick shower, which was unfortunate because I discovered that this was one of the few hostels with a decent shower situation. I would have liked to sit there a while and soak up the nice hot water from the shower head which actually dispensed water at a normal volume, rather than just trickling out or shooting it at you like riot control. I got myself ready for the day, and then hurried down stairs to check out. I had to pack up my backpack and pull it out of the because I needed to hand back my key. However, because my train wasn't leaving till after midnight, they let me store my stuff in their luggage room for the day at no extra charge.
So now I went out to explore again, stopping by the open food market to pick up some breakfast. I bought a chocolate covered banana on some kind of breading which was delicious. Not exactly the most wholesome breakfast, but when I saw it I had to have it, because it just looked like something you should buy in Salzburg. I also picked up some water because I knew I'd need it for my hike today. I'd decided that I was going to go check out the hills outside the main city, and sit out on the grass for a while. There were hiking trails all over the hills, which I could see on my map, so I planned to just wander around in the forest and grassy fields for the majority of the day.
The hills themselves looked a whole lot closer from inside the city. Once I got walking, it took me about an hour and a half just to reach them. However, I got to walk through some of the surrounding suburbs which are beautiful. The sun was out and shining. There wasn't a cloud in the sky today, and the weather was mild enough to where I didn't even need my jacket for most of the time. The Alps were leaping out of the horizon, bright white. They jumped as if making sure you noticed them at all times. The people I past by were all as friendly as I've ever known people to be. They smiled at me, and said hello as they walked by. I followed the road in the direction of one of the walking trails which took me right through a giant field bursting with little yellow and white flowers growing all over. Through the middle was a little creek running along a very old wooden fence. It was like something out of a dream, or movie. I didn't expect this place to look exactly like it does in the movies, but it definitely does, and looks even more wonderful in person.
The trail lead me up to a forest which throughout it had more open fields which poked holes in the wooded ceiling to let the beautiful white light in. Some places I passed by looked so much like pictures I'd seen of battle fields in WW2, and I'm sure used to be just that. I climbed up higher in to denser forest, often straying from the main path to find smaller, lesser traveled paths. Eventually I got myself lost and disoriented from where I knew I was. I still followed the path, so I knew that eventually it'd spit me out somewhere, so I wasn't at all worried, in fact I was utterly thrilled to be wandering through unfamiliar forests. I found several places with breathtaking views of the city, and of the Alps, still shining clearly in the distance. I got another email from Jordan, sharing his thoughts about my views on evangelism, and I had time to just sit in solitude for a while on top of this beautiful mountain overlooking the Alps, and meditate on that question. His words, as they usually do, stirred up conversation inside me, and I wrote him back a long email regarding everything I thought about. It's wonderful to be able to sit in thought, staring at God's beautiful creation and philosophize about the way the world works. If you ever have the opportunity to just get yourself lost in the wilderness for a day, I highly recommend it, especially if it's somewhere like this. Hours went by, and I trudged on through dense trees, thick mud, and tall grass. Over bridges and streams (which I had to cross by means of balancing over a fallen tree), and past waterfalls cascading over perfectly chiseled cliff faces. I finally found a place to where the trail opened up into another giant field of tall grass and flowers. It looked exactly like the field in The Sound of Music, with an amazing view of the mountains just over the tops of the trees. I found myself starting to hum songs from The Sound of Music, but people walking by began to chuckle as they heard me, so I stopped (but secretly began again after they left). I walked into the center of it, and laid down in the tall grass. I rested there for another hour, watching people walk by on the paths on either side of the field, while children played with their dogs in the tall grass. I wished I could stay there forever, but I decided eventually it was time to find my way back.
I had a little bit of a hard time finding a way back to the main road, because I'd gotten myself so well lost in the forest. However, eventually I did find the main road, and walked back into the city and met up with Chris at the hostel.
He went out shopping with me for refills on my toiletries, showing me the places I could buy things like that in Europe. Then we went out to dinner. We first tried this place he was raving about which you have to take an elevator to, because it's right at the top of the mountain between The Castle, and an old medieval monastery. The restaurant over looks the whole city, and we got there right at six, when all the bell towers in all the city rang in the end of the day all at once. Unfortunately the restaurant was closed. Everything closes insanely early here, and apparently we had just missed it. However, we did sit outside on the railing overlooking the city, watched the sun begin to set, and talked travel stories. After a while we both started getting hungry, so we got back down to the bottom of the mountain and ate at an Italian restaurant near the lift. After dinner, we walked back to the hostel and sat for hours and talked about everything from books to politics. He recommended this author named Emilio Eco, who apparently writes these amazing mystery novels unlike any other he's ever read before. A lot of what he told me about them sounds really interesting, so I'll be looking for something written by him if I pass by a book store with books written in English. We talked politics, and philosophized everything in the world from human behavior to wold events. Our conversations gathered crowds around us who wanted to listen to what we had to say. Chris has an amazing perspective on the world, and brought to light some things I'd never even thought about before. I mostly just played the devils advocate, trying to come up with loopholes and reasons why his ideas couldn't work. However, I found myself, nearly everytime unable to combat his ideas, and instead simply shaped them with ideas of my own. Together within the span of about 3 and a half hours, we solved all the worlds problems. We joked about the fact that we just have to figure out now how to convince everyone else. At about midnight, I said goodbye to Chris, and went off to catch my train.
I boarded my train at around 12:45, and had a hell of a time trying to find my seat which had been reserved. I'd never had a reservation on a train before, I'd always (because of my Eurail pass) just found an empty seat, and sat down. However this was much more strenuous. I ended up walking down 5 cars in the wrong direction, and had to make my way back through tiny isles packed with people, until I finally found my spot. To my surpass, the ticket I booked was for a sleeping car. I'd told the woman at the counter when I made my reservation to book me in the six person compartment car, and not the sleeping car because it was more expensive. However, once I got in there, it was nice to be able to stretch out and get a good night's sleep, so maybe it was a blessing after all.
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