My first week in Europe

After my first week in Europe I'm now back at Brett and Cyndy's place in Germany, glad to be rested, showered and wearing clean clothes.

I started out here last Thursday after flying into Frankfurt, spending my first night in the Hansens' clean, comfortable stone house in the little town of Bann. The next morning I hit the trains to Milan. It was about a seven hour trip altogether, but it flew by. I was going through the forests of southern Germany, the mountains of Switzerland and finally the sparkling lakes of northern Italy, so there was plenty to look at. Plus, the trains were comfortable and uncrowded.

In Milan I met up with Chris Markman at the enormous Milano Centrale, an old, high-ceilinged marble train station that I imagine is like Italy's version of Grand Central. For those of you who know Chris, he says he's doing well and sends his greetings. He looks tired though -- apparently the Church is working him pretty hard, probably to prepare him for when he gets done with seminary and has to hold down two or three parishes by himself.

Our first full day in Milan was devoted to the city center. We saw the main cathedral, which was amazing, Castle Sforesco, which was also pretty cool and La Scala, a famous opera house, which was just OK. There was a rehearsal going on, so they only let us peek in from a glassed-in box way above the stage, and it was dark in there, so we couldn't see much. We also strolled through the famous Vittorio Emmanuele covered shopping complex. It's shaped like a cross with four anchor shops in the center. There's a Prada, a Louis Vuitton, a swank jewelry store and, get this, a McDonald's. At the risk of sounding unpatriotic, the McDonald's just didn't seem to be in the same class as the other three.

Throughout the day we were also able to view the exquisite creatures commonly known as "donne Milanese" or the women of Milan. I could spend all day just watching them walk around. And then spend most of the following day trying to figure out how they squeeze into those jeans.

The next day Chris and I took a short trip out to Lake Como for another kind of natural beauty. Como is a blue jewel set in the foothills of the Alps, with quaint old towns and modern resorts clinging to the green banks all around it. The city of Como is a good place to spend a day, big enough to have a striking cathedral and plenty of gelato shops, but not nearly as crowded and chaotic as some Italian cities. We strolled along the lake, bought a couple of pizzas and then took a boat ride to Bellagio. It was pretty much an excellent, relaxing day, even if we did have to make sure we got Chris back in time to catch his train to Rome.

After seeing Chris off, I spent one night in Como and then jumped on a train for Interlaken, which is smack in the middle of Switzerland. It was a very pleasant trip, with almost constant views of the Alps (except when we were traveling through tunnels underneath them). I passed the time talking to a Swiss girl named Fabiolina, a student from Zurich. And that was also pleasant, even if her English was limited and my German basically non-existent. Tim Keymer, if you're reading, this is where I could have used your help.

Interlaken literally means "between lakes," which is an apt name, because the city lies in a valley between Lake Brienz and Lake Thun, with 2,500-meter snow-covered Alp peaks all around it. I took a cable car halfway up one of those peaks to the tiny town of Gimmelwald, which is where I spent the next two nights. I stayed in a hostel and met a lot of friendly people, most of whom were Canadian (apparently the Canadian universities finish up in late April or early May, so their kids are already on their post-college European tours, while the U.S. kids are mostly still taking finals back in the States).

I still like the social aspect of the hostel, but I think I'm getting too old for some of the other aspects (the rock-hard bed, sharing a room with five other people, going down two flights of stairs to get to the bathroom, paying 1 Swiss Franc to take a shower, etc.). Still, it's hard to beat the location of the Gimmelwald hostel, with snowy peaks all around it seemingly so close you could reach out and touch them.

My two days in and around Gimmelwald were mostly devoted to short hikes from one little mountain town to another, watching goats kick and tumble down hills and dunking my head in mountain streams (you get warm hiking around, and it was cheaper than a shower). I took one long hike from the town of Murren down to the valley floor, which was probably biting off more than I could chew. It was almost straight downhill, which is a lot more difficult than it sounds. By the time I got to the bottom my thighs were literally twitching. I've never been so happy to see a city bus.

After three days without showering (you hoard your Francs like gold in Switzerland -- it's an incredibly expensive country) and a full week without trimming my beard, I certainly looked the part of a mountain man (even more than I usually do). No doubt some of the folks on the train back to Germany were wondering just how much time I'd spent up there. But I finally arrived back at Brett and Cyndy's house -- smelly, disheveled and quite furry. Thank God for their hospitality. Another few days of hostel living and I might have looked (and smelled) like a full-on Neanderthal.

On the agenda for my second week:

-- A festival in Kaiserslautern with the Hansens

--The ancient Roman city of Trier

--Paris and a visit with Gustavo (college roommate)'s sister, Luciana.

--Munich and surrounding area

--Fly home (probably dirty, smelly and disheveled again) on May 28.