Germany: Day 3

We woke up the morning of September 5^th sad to see the departure of Tom and Brian. It was also probably the best thing to happen to us on the trip thus far because it is quite possible that we would have been home in a week if we had spent money at the rate they encouraged us to. Thomas wanted a sobering experience and recommended a trip to Dachau, one of the first concentration camps in Germany. With a set plan for the day we set of to find an inexpensive way to eat. Now it is here, dear readers, that my life was changed. I found the greatest good in the world in the form of creamy gooey goodness of Nutella. For anyone that doesn’t know what Nutella is, I will try to describe it in a way to give it any justice. Imagine if heaven was mixed with hazelnuts, add a strand of Lothriel’s hair, and package it is a glass container (because obviously plastic cannot contain the goodness that is Nutella). I will never forget the LIDL, a grocery store that sells 1.5 L of water for 19 cents and bread for 59, it was very cheap, and Nutella was possibly the most expensive item at the store (for good reason), 1.99 euros. I spent the next half hour raving to strangers about the canned crack I carried with me as I left the store. Then, the unimaginable happened. For one minute I let my guard down then in slow motion I tried to switch my bag, a loaf of bread, a map, and my Nutella (which I refused to set down) to different hands, and some malevolent power pulled the Nutella towards Earth. I watched it plummet to the ground, my human reflexes unable to keep up with my mind, and the glass shattered. I can’t remember the next few minutes. I just know my vision went white with pain and fury and I woke up in a cold sweat on a train to Dachau hoping it was all just a dream. My Nutella was gone. In retrospect, this is a good thing because my Nutella addled mind was numbed by grief and I was able to come down from my high and be ready to experience Dachau.

The concentration camp was in a beautiful area outside of Munich, the trees were green and when we arrived, although overcast, it was a beautiful day. The landscape was at complete odds with the pain and atrocities that happened there all those years ago. Dachau was opened in 1933 as a place for mainly political prisoners against the Nazi movement, but was rebuilt in 1938 to house an ever increasing number of Jews who were imprisoned. The camp never became an extermination camp like Aushwitz, but there were still thousands of lives lost in the years that it was open, and most camps were modeled after the brutal regime that was “The Dachau Model.” As they say, pictures say a thousand words, and really I cannot say anything about the camp that is not better expressed with images (up when I get my computer in a few days).

After the emotional visit to Dachau we headed back to the hostel to await the arrival of a friend who was visiting from Salzberg. His name is Nick, but people affectionately refer to him as Salty. We found him by the Saint Michael’s Cathedral where he ambushed us, called us homos and demanded we show him a good time. After out experienced with Tom, we wanted nothing to do with pubs or shenanigans, so we went back to the hostel to relax (and hopefully keep Salty under control). We stopped at a grocery store on the way back to the hostel. I got a new jar of Nutella and some apples, Matt got some German chocolate, Thomas got some bread, and Salty got a bottle of wine (for himself) and a liter and a half of sprite. If it sounds like a recipe for disaster to you, you had more sense than we did. After a game of cribbage and Matt spending a significant amount of time napping Salty disappeared. He came back with a beautiful girl named Crissi who worked the front desk of the hostel. Thomas had repeatedly exclaimed how beautiful she was and Salty, in what the locals called “Mexican German”, told the lady to encourage us to go out and live it up the last night there. Thomas (an the rest of us) cannot say no to a pretty woman and went out to explore the night with Salty. Munich, luckily, closes down the entire city Saturday at midnight, so we did not have to deal with anything other than a street performer excited to have Americans to sing Beatles tunes with. We retired for the night happy to get some sleep and excited to head out to Prague (I finished this post on a train as we passed through Schwandorf)

Germany: Day 2

The next day I ran early and we took a walking tour of Munich that was great. The tour guy was a fine urbanite named Ozzie who spoke a variety of languages and was well versed in history. He began the tour at a brisk pace and spoke of magical Munich things, and by that I mean Hitler and the third Reich. Basically the history of Munich is absolutely fascinating. The entire city itself is very young, only four structures are older than 60. In World War II the allies bombed Munich heavily (it was the home of the Nazi movement) and the damage was so catastrophic that the whole city was in ruins. The city, however, had taken pictures of all buildings before the war started and were able to build the entire city as it was. If you want to know any other history, just let me know.

After the tour we went to the Augustiner Brau, and had the most ridiculous meal ever. For 9.95 euro we had 1/4 duck, a large potato dumpling, a pork knuckle, all you can eat pretzels and kraut, and roast pork. It was truly a feast for a king. I think kraut may be the greatest gift the Bavarians gave to mankind, because this was fantastic. After that we had a similar night to the one before...except instead of boxing we witnessed a race between the same two contenders, with a clear winner and a man who could not keep up.

Germany: Day 1

So the last 3 days in Europe (Spetember 3,4,5) can be explained in just a few words: beer, money, Tom, and Nutella. So we flew into Memmingham on September 3rd and by the time we got into Munich it was 12:15 or so. Now the flight was fairly forgettable but it is worth noting that it was only $16 and nomatter how you look at that, it rocks. We had to take a bus into Munich from Memmingham and I slept for the whole bus ride, but I hear it was very nice.

When we got to Munich we went to check in at our hostel, and we were ambushed by two men who have the ability to change the course of a trip, Tom and Brian. They are both in the Rome study abroad program and they were traveling via Euro rail across the continent. Now they are both very experienced in the Munich lifestyle (without ever visiting) Tom puts down liters like they are filled with kool-aid. His drinking habits besides the point, I need to get into all the things we did that made this city great.

First things first, I told everyone there was one stop I wanted to do, and that was the Munich Olympic Stadium, site of the 1972 Olympics and is famous for the terrorist attacks against the Israeli Olympic team. This stop was actually quite pathetic. Like going to a WNBA game it seemed like it could have been a fantastic stop full of athletic grandeur, but in reality was a failed attempt. All the buildings were decrepit and under construction. Plus, it was 5 bucks to get into any of the Olympic buildings and the buildings were all built in the 70s, which is quite possibly the worst era in architectural history. The historical significance may have made up for not getting to really see anything, but I am still bitter. The only highlight of the stop in the Olympic plaza was destroying ants and getting on the train to leave.

Next we got to do what Tom wanted, which means a beeline to the Hofbrau Haus, one of the worst tourist traps in all of Germany. This is where I learned something about German culture, if you are a human being and obviously old enough to tie your shoes, you drink. I don't know if I really asked for beer in any of the pubs we went to, overpriced liters just sort of appeared in front of me. So it was at the Hofbrau Haus I had my first German brew. You would have to ask the other four about how good it was, but it seemed like it was tasty, I managed to convince the waiter to give me a half liter, so maybe I wasn’t being a real German, but a half liter is still an imposing beer.

We went on a pub-crawl that night, I chose not to pay 17 Euro for the tour and instead told a sad tale of heart attacks and such so I could go along. We ended up at a small bar on the far side of town, its name is now lost to all of us. They sold some great stew and the conversation with the South African barkeep kept everyone entertained. The rest of that night will be left out due to a significant amount of tomfoolery. To make a long story short, I ended up watching after some of my compadres and witnessed the greatest southpaw boxer in history, a true young Muhammad Ali, take on Tom for the heavyweight championship of Wombats hostel.

London

Sweet Mercy. I haven't posted since before I left (mostly because I don't have a computer with me) but today Matt Reeve lent me his computer and I now get to update everyone on what we have done so far this trip.
On Tuesday, September 1st we flew out to London on an overnight flight from Minneapolis. I'll be completely honest, except for the free movies, long flights suck. I spent about 5 hours trying to sleep and maybe 3 hours sleeping, although eventually I gave up and instead just annoyed Matt with Thomas. We landed in London at about noon their time and did customs and all that fun stuff before getting into the city. Now, I am sure some people are thinking, "London is so cool, I bet you had so much fun," on the contrary we had almost no fun in London, it was the beautiful London Stansted airport that supplied all our fun for the first day...if you can call 2 hour in an airport with increasingly crabby people fun.
Our flight to Munich was at 6:55 the next morning, so with tears in our eyes and no food in our stomachs we caught a ridiculously priced train to get to the London Stansted airport 45 minutes outside of the center of the city. When we got there it was about 8:00 pm and I felt like we were in the cheesy first 20 minutes of a zombie movie. We arrive at this bizarre ghost-town of an airport with 4 or 5 flights left to leave. To imagine the airport you just have to imagine a huge square building, probably close to a half mile to walk all the way around the outside and the far back wall has the entrances to all 99 gates. The walls are glass all the way up, and the whole place creaks and moans when the wind blows, and we get there and realize that we are a part of a handful of people settling down for the long wait. We found some decent sandwiches and hunkered down in a corner to wait for the plane.
This is where the crabbiness starts from my dear, dear compadre Matt Reeve. I can understand why, we were running on zero sleep and I was being increasingly annoying. Talking in a Southern accent, telling him not to worry about anything, and doing almost nothing to prepare us for Munich (I am not too productive when I am tired), I was a little annoying. Not to mention Matt Reeve hoisted our futures on his huge shoulders. He planned everything for the next two days while Thomas and I listened to loveline and laughed our tired butts off. The crabbiness is besides the point and was very justifiable.
The reason it felt like a zombie movie (other than the airport at night thing) was that hundreds of travellers started arriving at about midnight to wait for their flights, we felt like refugees. People were sleeping everywhere and it was too a point where every bench and chair was occupied. By the time the morning came, I was starting to get sick of being around so many people and was sort of excited to get on the plane.
After we got through the gate Thomas insisted that 4:30 am after no sleep was the perfect time for a beer, and that is going to be the memory I am planning to hang onto. Thomas Joyce telling me that it was the perfect time to drink, me exclaiming that it was way too early, and hime pointing out literally hundreds of people at and around the bar drinking half-liters of beer. Europe is ridiculous, but Thomas and Matt acted the part while they enjoyed their 4:30 pick-me-up.

My First Post: Day Before Departure

Hey everyone who is anyone! My name is Jimmy Backes, I am a Junior at The University of Saint John's and I leave tomorrow on a study abroad trip that should be cool enough to write a blog about (and that is saying something). So, with everything packed in my 44 liter Osprey backpack I fly out of Minneapolis, not for Ireland, but for the great city of London where I will begin some pre-gaming so to speak, as me and my travel buddies will see a little of Europe before we settle down in Ireland. First things first, you should know the two guys I am traveling with. Thomas Joyce is a Junior at SJU, he is a member of the track team and by far the most traveled of the three of us. Matt Reeve is also a member of the track team at SJU and is pretty much an Irish giant to begin with, so he just needs some experiences over there to go with his red hair to become a full fledged Irish citizen (even though he claims he has little to no Irish blood in him). I assure you I am not as interesting or awesome as the two of them.

So the plan is to get to Munich, Vienna and Prague in 10 days. I may or may not have access to a computer, so it will be questionable when the second post will be, but I am willing to bet the farm that it will be one of the best entries I have ever written