On to Germany

Yesterday I left Belgium and spent my first Eurail pass day heading for St. Goar, Germany.

First, I had to stop and see the Dom Cathedral in Cologne. Shortly after boarding the train to Cologne (the first leg at least), I was greeted by a large, droopy eyed Belgian man who had to stamp my ticket. He noticed that I am from California and began speaking to me in English and wanted to talk all about America. I put my postcards aside and learned all about his farm equipment import and export business. He travels to the US to do business once a year. And oh my did he have an opinion for everthing and everyone American.

After chatting for awhile, he sat down opposite me and kept talking. As the trip progressed he made himself more and more comfortable. Eventually he had his legs stretched out across the two seats across from me. Every couple of kilometers he would share that he thought something about America was CRAZY. Our borders are CRAZY. Our politics are CRAZY. Our cost of living is CRAZY. The definition of CRAZY seemed to go back and forth between good and bad. Guess who I think is CRAZY!

We talked for the whole trip! At least one hour maybe more. I love meeting people while travelling, even if they think America is CRAZY. In his defense he did call Europe CRAZY a couple times. Both the good and bad version. Everyone further on in the train must have been wondering why no one was coming through to stamp tickets.

Once I got to Cologne I stepped out of the train station to discover the most massive cathedral. It towers over the whole city. What a great place!

Now I am in St. Goar on the Rhine. I spent today riding a bike 14 kilometers down along the river and 14 kilometers back up. I´m sunburned and tired. A medieval castle awaits me tomorrow.

Before my time runs out on this pay per minute computer, one last story.
When I went to rent my bike today, I met a great German gentleman who spoke excellent English (a joy for me). I got on the bike to see if the seat was at the right level. It was perfect, BUT when I went to swing my leg around the back to get off the bike, I promptly hit the basket in the back and knocked the bike and myself over. A confessed love in Brussels, a bike 'crash' in St. Goar...I don't want to know what the next town has in store for me. We'll find out!