The Best Worst Decision Ever

Early this summer, our group sat down together and discussed our available weekends and how to spend them. Everyone had at least one must-do. One of mine was a bike trip. I was in Europe, and I would take an overnight bike trip in Europe. This was not up for debate.

There was much discussion about who was going, where we were going, which route we were taking, and where we would sleep. As the "Bike Trip" weekend neared, it was down to just Numa--who will be biking to Alaska next summer as part of Texas 4000--and myself.

     One of my labmates, The Coffee Boss, asked where we were going. "To Lohr," I told him, "but only for the day, and then we'll come back and bike somewhere else the next day."
     "Why are you not spending the night?" he asked.
     "Because all the hostels were full."
     He nodded in understanding, but then, when I told him it was only Numa and myself going, he said, "Oh, well if it's only the two of you, I have a tent you can borrow."

we have a tent.
p/c: numa

And that is how we came to bike to Lohr with a tent strapped to the back of my rented bike, and blankets to the back of Numa's. It was a great tent. I have never set up a tent before {I have never slept in a tent before}, but we managed this one quite easily, even if the instructions were in German.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. First we need to leave Würzburg.

departing würzburg. 

our first break.
p/c: numa

We stopped for a picnic lunch. Lunch on the Main. Numa's first encounter with what turned out to be Urtica Dioica, known affectionately throughout the trip as "the stinging plant."

view from lunch.

 Our next break was for swans {and a seesaw, and a boat}. This was also Numa's second encounter with the stinging plant.

swan break.

That Time We Didn't Take the Shortcut

Somewhere in here, we tried to take a shortcut. I say tried, because our attempt was unsuccessful. For a couple reasons.

1. I am extremely skeptical of the word 'short-cut,' so even though Numa had planned it out and it had been recommended to me by the Opinionated Romanian, I wasn't too keen on it.
2. We couldn't find the bike route of said short-cut, only a highway.

I realized afterwards that short-cut or no, these were the only directions Numa had written down. Thus, we had only a map and a set of directions no longer applicable as we continued on the long route. {And no, we didn't have Google maps.}

we also stopped to take pictures in fields like this.
p/c: numa

Our lack of directions wasn't too big of a deal. After all, as the Opinionated Romanian had informed us earlier, "There are signs everywhere. If you can't follow the signs, you probably shouldn't be on a bike." And he was right. There are a TON of signs. Every intersection has a white sign with a green bike and a green arrow {usually directing you to continue straight ahead}.

Well, almost every intersection.

That Time There Was No Sign & We Got Lost In a Cornfield

lost on a gravel road.
p/c: numa

One particular intersection had no sign. So we went straight. We ended up with a cornfield to one side, the river to another, and gravel beneath us. We stopped. We agreed that something wasn't right.

• This doesn't feel right.
• No, it doesn't. I don't know where we are.
• Me neither. There was no sign.
• No, there wasn't. What do we do now?
• I don't know. Do you want a cookie?
• Yes. 

we made it to Lohr.

We eventually backtracked 30 meters, crossed the bridge that had confused us to begin with, and hung out there for a while as Numa iced her stinging leg and I searched for signs. Turns out, we were not yet in the town {Gemuenden} we thought we were in. Which was good. We could keep going. Oh, by the way, that compass app on your phone? Totally useful on a bike trip.

It was somewhere around this point where Numa informed me that this bike trip was the "worst best decision ever." She was right, on all counts.

It took us nine hours {more than twice as long as predicted}, but we made it to our desired campground in Lohr. We acquired some Radler, set up our tent with minimal trouble, and rested. I attempted to stretch my legs out and ended up in a great deal of pain. During the ride, my muscles hadn't protested--my posterior, on the other hand...--so I was surprised to finally get off the bike and find myself in what I told Numa was pain "worse than orthodontia." {Which, considering the fact that my prolonged and necessary orthodontic experience may be at the top of my pain list, is rather impressive.} Knowing that walking was better than sitting, we ventured into the town of Lohr.

tent accomplished.
p/c: numa

The Coffee Boss had informed us prior to the trip that there was a beer fest going on. He was close but not quite right; it was something along the lines of Würzburg's Kiliani Volksfest, what we would call a fair. It was smaller than Kiliani, but with just as much bright, noisy chaos and clamor. My lab group had informed me that I'd missed out at Kiliani by not getting any chocolate-covered fruit--"the only reason to go to Kiliani"--so we thought we'd make up for it here.

chocolate-covered apples

Sleeping. My first time to sleep in a tent. Given the lush grass conditions of Germany--they have this thing called rain--and the fact that I'd biked 60 kilometers, I had a pretty pleasant night.

Of course, we first had to go to sleep to the sound of the beer tent from the fair. We could hear the band and the people, and if our experience at Kiliani was any sort of clue, our bedtime in Lohr was right about when the party was starting. Party, in this case, means loud, fun, German music, and lots of standing on tables, singing loudly, and drinking plenty of beer. It sounded familiar, like home or something.

Then there were the fireworks. I disentangled myself from my Snuggie--ahhh! agony! please, Advil, work quickly!--and poked my head out of the tent flap to see if they were visible. They were not, but, as I told Numa, the sound of fireworks is one of my favorites given all the good memories to which I have it attached. Another sound that feels like home. It was a nice way to fall asleep.

We were awakened sometime later by the sound of German fest-goers returning to the campsite. Believe it or not, the sound of the German language has quickly become a reassuring sound to me. It is the sound of a coffee break, a lunch break, a quick trade of perovskite notes, a phone call...it is the sound of my friends, of people with whom I feel safe and safe to be myself. So waking in the middle of the night up to German, even drunk German, is not a bad feeling.

That Time There Were Mice Under Our Tent

I woke up with the sunlight outside...and movement...of something...beside me. Honestly, the first time it happened, I was still too asleep to bother worrying. But the second time, I started thinking things through. It is one thing to feel...it is another to hear the rustling and see the fabric of the tent floor flutter.

"Numa!"

I waited another twenty-or-so minutes before trying again. "Numa!"

She spoke to the wall of the tent. "What?"

"There are mice under our tent."

She whipped around to face me. "You better not be serious that there are mice under our tent."

And she was so serious that I said, "No, no, there are no mice under our tent."

Of course, the problem was that there were mice under the tent, and after that point we were both inching away from the rustlings, toward each other, until neither of us had room to move further. So we woke up and tried not to think about squashed mice.

They were gone when we packed up the tent. No sign of mice, squashed or otherwise.

That Time We Took the Shortcut

Since neither of us were looking forward to another 9-hour biking day, we decided to take the aforementioned shortcut. It took us ten minutes to face a confusing stack of signs, all pointing in different directions and none directing us to our desired destination: Karlstadt. We debated, pored over the map, consulted the compass, and looked so lost that after about ten minutes, a jogger asked if we needed help. He pointed us toward Gemuenden and said we'd just bike all along the river.

Skeptical that this was yesterday's long route, we followed his advice. The trail eventually led us to more signs, one of which pointed away from the river and into a forest--toward Weisenfeld, a town on our short-cut. So we went.

That Time We Biked Uphill In a Forest In the Rain

in the forest.

I assumed this forest path would last ten minutes. It lasted longer. It lasted uphill. It lasted through a rainshower. I wasn't crazy enough to attempt riding up the hill; I walked the bike, and instead of my thighs, my calves screamed. This was also when Numa's bike decided that rain was not worth the effort, forcing her to walk up, as well. {Also, stinging plant encounter number three.}

• [after rounding another curve] Um...
• What?
• It keeps going up.
• Please be kidding.
• I'm not kidding.
  

  

  log bridge over a stream, in the forest
  p/c: numa

Granted, the views within the forest were like something out of The Jungle Book, and the views post-climb were kinda worth the agony.

view from the top.

That Time We Lost the Bike Trail

Finally, we coasted about halfway down the hill and finally arrived in Wiesenfeld. We'd made it! We were about halfway through the shortcut to Karlstadt, and it seemed time to rejoice.

Except...the bike trail disappeared. We killed at least thirty minutes in that town looking for it. Oh, there were highway signs to Karlstadt {and the nearer Karlburg}, but no bike signs. Not one. Also, it rained. Again. Have you ever biked up and down a town looking for a bike trail in the rain? I don't necessarily recommend it. Especially if you just finished an unexpectedly long journey through a forest up a hill in the rain.

that elevation. no. just...no.

That Time We Walked 2km On the Highway, In the Rain, Uphill

We decided to take the highway. We didn't have much other option--we had to get home, and we knew this would take us there. The highway was uphill, and we couldn't bike fast enough uphill to keep up with traffic, so we walked. Did I mention it was raining?

We walked that highway for two kilometers. In the rain.

That Time We Attempted Another Bike Trail

And then we saw bike trail signs. A bike trail crossed the highway. Noting the directions, we decided to take one. Yet another gravel road...and then it turned the wrong way. After about a minute on the trail, we called a halt.

• This doesn't feel right.
• No, it doesn't. I don't know where we are. 
• Me neither. I don't know where this is going.
• Me neither. What do we do now?
• I don't know. Do you want a cookie?
• Yes. 

We stopped and had cookies in the rain. And then we went back to our highway.

That Time We Coasted Down 2km, On the Highway, In the Rain, Downhill

At least this time, we were heading downhill.

Maybe not so great, considering the wet roads and the rented bikes.

I won't say much about this for fear of terrifying the parents, but we coasted down 2 kilometers worth of highway in the rain. It was nuts. Not recommended, but it gives a person something to write home about {or not, depending on the condition of one's parents' respective hearts}.

And then we were in Karlburg. Karlburg is just a bit north of Karlstadt, and, like Karlstadt, it is on the Main river. That means it's on the bike trail. We were back on familiar ground. We stopped at a picnic table in Karlstadt for a snack-lunch of Pringles, cookies, dried fruit, crackers, and pretzels. The sun came out.

That Time Our Adventures Weren't Over

We were now retracing our steps from the day before, heading toward Würzburg. There were even signs for our home city! We were in the clear, things were looking up--

It started pouring.

sun and rain. sehr schön.

soaked and having an adventure.

We considered seeking shelter. We decided against it, hoped our phones would stay dry in our backpacks, and kept riding. Other bikers and walkers laughed at us as we raced past their hiding places. We laughed at ourselves. And kept riding.

{We may or may not have missed one sign and decided to bike into a forest. Like...smack dab into a forest. We had to turn around.}

The sun came out before the rain stopped, and I risked my phone to take pictures of the beauty that is rain and sunshine.

That Time We Made It Back

And then we were back in Würzburg. Familiar sights gave way to familiar streets, which gave way to familiar food: döner. We parted ways in the city, and I took my soaking wet self back to my apartment, where I took the best shower of my life and proceeded to drape the Coffee Boss' tent across my tables to dry {which it did}.

And that is the story of the "Bike Trip," the Best Worst Decision Ever.

Distances According to Google:

Day 1: 60.4 km = 37.3 mi

Day 2: 45 km = 28.0 mi

Total: 105 km = 65.3 mi

Of course, it was more than that given the backtracking and turning around. So this is a very conservative estimate.

*I don't think I've mentioned The Coffee Boss before. He's one of my many awesome labmates who always has a smile for me and an invitation to some sort of ep6 social event. We don't interact much in the lab, but I've always been honored by his not forgetting me when it's time to eat or "break." He is called The Coffee Boss because he holds the record for drinking the most coffee in ep6 {we keep track of these things} and thus gets the distinguished honor of drinking from the "Coffee Boss" mug.

Bonn: The Gummy Bear Expedition

A couple weeks ago, Joseph informed me of the Haribo Gummy Bear Factory in Bonn. So, I googled it. I found a million and one reasons to go. There were yelp reviews, youtube videos, articles, and blog posts. With every single review and picture, I found a new reason to go. I couldn’t come to Germany and not go there. The internet won me over.

yelp review

So two weekends ago, a few of us traveled to Bonn, Germany for the sole reason of visiting the Haribo Factory Store, and it was a magical experience. I don’t think my writing could ever do the store any justice. It’s a good thing that pictures are worth a thousand words.

The Day We Walked to Austria

The trip we took Saturday was my favorite yet. It was also probably the cheapest, believe it or not.

Let me first inform you, because I'm really quite proud of this fact: we walked to Austria.

comparing Neuschwanstein to Disney

We did a bunch of other things, too. The purpose of Saturday’s expedition was actually to visit Neuschwanstein Castle, possibly one of the most famous castles in the world. {You may recognize it from Disney.} We’d planned to go a couple weeks ago as part of the Rothenburg/Bamberg {yes, there will be a post eventually} trip, but tours inside the castle were booked. We planned for another weekend, but those tickets were booked, too. After looking at some mediocre reviews of the 30-minute tour, we agreed that it wasn’t worth the expense and extra scheduling. Instead, we made our plans.

     “I’m going to Neuschwanstein,” I told the Right-Hand Man and the Raman Spectroscopist.
     “Oooh,” said the Raman Spectroscopist. “I’ve never been there.”
     She and the Right-Hand Man informed me that no one thought very highly of the king who had built the castle in the relatively recent 1800s. “No one is quite sure how he died,” the Raman Spectroscopist told me. “He drowned in the lake.”
     “He walked into it,” said the Right-Hand Man. “He was crazy.”
     “Well, no one really knows,” she persisted.
     “He walked into the lake and died,” he repeated.
     “I mean, it could have been suicide, but--”
     “It was. He just walked straight into the lake one day. He was crazy.”
     The Raman Spectroscopist gave up.

Our party to visit this castle consisted of Joseph, Numa, Thomas, Victoria, and myself. We took train and bus for over four hours before arriving in the town of Hohenschwangau {the town at the base of the castle}.

There is more English {and Spanish and Japanese} in this Schwangau than anywhere else in Germany, I’m pretty sure. Even Berlin. This place is overrun with tourists. The last stage of our train trip was so crowded that we sat on the floor in the space between cars. My memory of Hohenschwangau is little more than mobs and mobs and mobs of tourists.

     “I am going to Neuschwanstein,” I told the Opinionated Romanian.
     “Ah, Neuschwanstein,” he said. “You are going to a place in Germany where most Germans have never been.”
     “I’ve noticed,” I told him.
     “Yes, you see, Germany is...” He paused, looking for the right analogy. “Germany is like a bowl of ice cream.”
     “Ice cream.”
     “Ice cream full of chocolate sprinkles, which are castles,” he explained. “And Neuschwanstein is just a more impressive chocolate sprinkle.”

exhibit a: mobs of tourists

Well, to see this impressive chocolate sprinkle, we walked up the hill to the castle {along with, you guessed it, mobs of tourists}. A word of warning for anyone ever considering castle-visiting in the future: castles are built for a reason. The whole goal of a castle is to be as impenetrable and unapproachable as possible. THEY ARE HARD TO APPROACH. It is very quaint and all to think of castles being built on hills, but when it comes to visiting them...ouch. I mean, Neuschwanstein is on a mountain.

So we climbed a hill and arrived at the castle.

And then we turned around.

Our fascination with the castle lasted all of, I don’t know, two minutes. We kept turning around and admiring this:

And this:

And this:

The castle is very nice. Almost too nice and too perfectly...castle-y. It feels plastic. And with all the tourists, one can’t appreciate the beauty or historical significance or anything. Here it stands, the ostentatious castle of a mad king. Now check out those Bavarian Alps.

picnic

We took a different route down the mountain and ate our picnic lunch at the base of a lovely little waterfall. {A waterripple? Ice-cold water trickling down from the mountain.} Then we were off again.

Since Neuschwanstein is quite close to Austria, we’d had a plan to follow a particular road across the border. It was my plan, actually, but now that we were finished with our castle viewing, I was getting worried. We had spent more time approaching the castle than anticipated, and I realized that I hadn’t brought any sort of map or directions with me. {There is no 3G at Neuschwanstein, come to find out.} I didn’t want to take us into Austria without some idea of where we were going.

lake alpsee
photocredit: numa

We went to see {and take pictures by} Lake Alpsee while we considered our predicament. That was where I found the sign. There was the trail to Pinswang, Austria.

check out that turquoise

We took it. Almost immediately, we left the tourists behind and were presented with views of trees, mountains, and beautiful Apline lakes. The lakes. They are the same clear blue as the Caribbean. They are gorgeous. The turquoise waters of Lake Alpsee, surrounded by high and jagged mountains...the beauty I saw Saturday was almost enough to make me cry.

the border!
photocredit: numa

I do not know how long we'd walked our trail through the mountains when we finally crossed the official border {no station, no passports, no one in sight}. We headed for the town of Pinswang, which turned out to be a quiet country town with fields and horses, surrounded by towering mountains. There were flowers everywhere, too. More so than are in Würzburg currently.

en route to pinswang

As we continued walking, I began to worry that we’d miss our transport back into Germany. I was so stressed, in fact, that I ignored the bus stop that would take us back right on schedule! I’m really grateful that the others on the trip noticed my error and called me back from my laser-focused mission to get to the unnecessary train station.

The temperature that day was also about 95 degrees Fahrenheit {have to specify that nowadays}. When we got out of the sun and onto the bus that would take us back to Germany, Joseph said it was “the best money he’d spent all day.” I agreed.

Upon arriving in Fuessen, Germany, we bought more water. At our next train switch, in Augsburg, we bought ice cream. And upon getting on our last train in Treuchtlingen, we fell asleep and didn't wake up until Würzburg {actually, that's not true: we dozed sporadically due to the constant fear of missing our stop}. It was possibly one of the most exhausting days of my life. I mean, we saw the most impressive chocolate sprinkle in Germany,

and we walked to Austria.

Bavaria Expedition: Bamberg and Rothenburg ob der Tauber

When I first found out that I was spending my summer in Europe, I wanted to go everywhere. My last visit to Europe as an eight year old left me with limited memories and a whole lot of awkward family photos. Despite knowing that it was not feasible, I came to Germany wanting to travel all over Europe. After arriving in Germany, I realized that…Germany – there are so many beautiful cities to see in Germany. Since then, I’ve spent a good majority of my weekends exploring Germany.

The weekend after our Berlin trip, a few of us had decided to go on a “Bavaria Expedition.” After talking to a lot of my lab-mates about traveling within Germany, they had all suggested cities in Bavaria. We picked two cities: Bamberg and Rothenburg ob der Tauber.

Bamberg: It is located in Upper Franconia on the river Regnitz. Its historic city center is listed UNESCO world heritage site.

Our first stop was Bamberg. With my slight obsession for Venice, all I really wanted to see in Bamberg was Klein-Venediga, which is a colony of picturesque fishermen’s homes from the 19th century along one side of the river. A trip is not complete without going the wrong direction and/or getting lost for quite some time. In our attempts to find Klein-Venedig, we found a graffiti wall with some pretty interesting graffiti. But we did it – we found Klein-Venedig, and it was absolutely breathtaking.

“I’m free” – Bamberg Graffiti Wall

Klein-Venedig

We then visited the Bamberg Cathedral, which holds the tombs of emperor Henry II and Pope Clement II. I was very fascinated by the architecture of the cathedral. It was beautiful, like most cathedrals I’ve seen here, but it was different. Usually, I’m pretty decent at figuring out the style a building has been constructed in, but I was having a hard time trying to pin down a style for this one. Later, I looked it up and learned that due to the long construction process of this cathedral, several styles were used in different parts of the cathedral, in particular, Romanesque and Gothic.

Bamberg Cathedral

Heading back to the train station, we came across this little…antique bookstore. We initially went inside for postcards and other souvenirs, but towards the back of the store, we found a bookstore. It was a bookstore worth mentioning.

Rothenburg ob der Tauber: It is a well-preserved medieval old town located in Franconia. From late Middles Ages to 1803, Rothenburg was a Free Imperial City.

Our next stop was Rothenburg ob der Tauber. Most of the people I had talked to around here told me to make sure that I went to Rothenburg for it’s historical importance and beauty. It was described to me as “Germany’s Fairy-Tale Town.” Our first destination was the Rothenburg Town Walls. We walked most of the way around the walls getting a good overview of the little town. Brief history lesson: During World War II, Rothenburg’s medieval town walls were destroyed and the mayor of the town asked for donations from town citizens and visitors to rebuild the wall to its former glory. The wall in its entirety, approx. 3 km long, is covered in plaques to honor people who made the donations.

Walking along the Rothenburg Town Walls

While walking along the Town Walls, we discovered the Spital Bastion. Disclaimer: I didn’t actually know what it was called until five seconds ago. Stepping into the bastion was like stepping back to a medieval time. It was a very elaborate tower/gate, and certainly had its mystical charm with wheeled canons.

After our little medieval adventure, we wandered around the town a little, going into random shops. We finally stopped for a traditional Franconian dinner. As wonderful as the food was, the service…not so much. We ended up having to wait over 40 minutes for the waiter to bring our check after asking him multiple times. While we were waiting, we went through my coin purse (a coin purse is very useful in Europe) to see if I had enough pennies to equal 1 EUR. Turns out, I did. So we left the restaurant an abundance of pennies.

We then stopped to get the famous Rotheburg Schneeballsb  before heading back to the train station.

---

Translation of German words:
a. Little Venice
b. Snowballs

Berlin: Day Two

We woke up Sunday morning with the realization that we only had a couple hours left in Berlin and a long list of things to do. A few of us had decided to venture out to Berlin-Grunewald to visit the Grunewald forest. The Grunewald is a 3,000 hectares German forest.

Despite all the art and culture, Grunewald was my favorite thing about Berlin. We walked through the woods for a couple hours – it was relaxing; it was beautiful. I wanted to spend all day there, but alas, art calls.

Alex and I went back to the Museum Island. We couldn’t come to Berlin and not see the bust of Queen Nefertiti. On our way to the Neuesa Museum, we stopped by Berlin’s Art Market – it certainly lived up to my expectations of a good Art Market.

The Neues Museum is the epitome of neoclassical architecture. The building itself was breathtaking. The exhibits included Egyptian, Prehistory, and Early History collections. I went to the Neues Museum for two reasons: 1) the iconic bust of the Egyptian Queen Nefertiti, and 2) Berliner Goldhut.

Quick Art History lessons:
1) Nefertiti, literally meaning “the beautiful one has come,” was the Great Royal Wife of the Egyptian Pharaoh Akhenaten. Not only was Nefertiti one of the most important women of the ancient world, but also the icon of feminine beauty. Her bust is an icon of Ancient Egypt and is one of the most copied works in history. Approximately 100 years ago, her bust was discovered by a German archeological team, and since then has been kept at several locations in Germany. Along with being a symbol for Egypt, Nefertiti’s bust is now also a symbol for Berlin. Conclusion: Queen Nefertiti’s bust is a big deal.
2) Berlin’s Gold Hat is a Late Bronze Age artifact made of thin gold leaf. The hat served as the insignia of deities/priests in regards to the sun cult that was widespread in Central Europe around the time.

The exhibit for Queen Nefertiti’s bust was something most of us were very moved by. More than being captivated by this beautiful art piece that Alex and I had both studied in our respective Art History classes, we were more moved by the piece next to it. There was a replica of Nefertiti’s bust. Along with it, there was a description in Braille. They created a version of Nefertiti that you didn’t have to see – a version that you could touch, and feel her beauty just the same. The fact that someone thought about replicating Nefertiti’s head for blind people is…incredible. Art is about more than just seeing, it’s about feeling.

Berliner Goldhut

We left the Museum Island and we were on our way to meet up with everyone when I got a phone call from Melody and Joseph. “Come here. You have to see this,” they said. They refused to tell me what it was, other than, it was something that I must see. So we went to Melody and Joseph and they took me to a tower…OF RITTER CHOCOLATE. UT Austin’s Tower got nothin’ on a Ritter chocolate tower. Side note: they recorded my reaction.

After seeing that delicious tower and realizing there was nothing else I could see in Berlin that day that would beat a Ritter chocolate tower, we went to Checkpoint Charlie and then headed to the bus station. Six hours later, we were back in Würzburg.

Checkpoint Charlie

---

Translation of German words:
a. New
b. Berlin Gold Hat