Posted by brian on July 12, 2008, 9:58 PM

2 Weeks, 8 Countries, 1 Great Trip

The following was written over the course of the last few days in a variety of countries...

Note to self: Avoid Belgian trains. Three simple words that would have saved me a heart-attack and a half today, if only I’d known ahead of time that finding a train from Brussels to Munich would be more difficult than building a flying machine to take me there in the first place. The fact that I assumed a six hour train ride would be simple to arrange was my own fault, the panic caused by the lady at the train station who said everything was booked but she JUST might find me a train that got me in JUST on time to catch my flight out of Munich seemed a little unnecessary.

So what did I do? I got on a train to Luxembourg . After playing a little game of travel agent, I decided that flying out of a small town in Germany would be a better option, but the bus to that small town left from Luxembourg . So I got on a train to Luxembourg . The train however, left late, went slow, and stopped for chips and dip before easing into its final destination about 25 minutes late, which was great, because the bus I was trying to catch to the airport had left 5 minutes before that from that exact spot. So there, I was… in Luxembourg , wondering what I was supposed to do now, knowing that ALL the trains to Munich were sold out.

So I went to the desk in Luxembourg and asked for a ticket to Munich , as soon as possible. He asked if a train leaving in an hour would be okay, and that it would cost half the price I was quoted in Belgium . I said that would be fine. So here I am, on a train… in Luxembourg , about to head to France , so I can fly out of Munich in the morning.

I obviously never thought that I’d end up in Luxembourg on this trip. I didn’t think I’d go to Austria either, but we needed gas and beer. Germany , The Netherlands, England , France , Spain , and Belgium were all expected. But Luxembourg was a bonus. I hadn’t been here before… one more country off the list.

For the record, the train station here looks like it was bombed by the Germans… sometime this week.

I prefer flying to taking trains, but sometimes there are just no options. Like where this all began, in Fuessen , Germany . There is no airport in the small Bavarian village of Fuessen . Just lakes and mountains and cobble stone streets lined by buildings that look like they were stolen from Canada ’s Wonderland.

The train to Fuessen was right on time. As was the train out of Fuessen a week later. In fact, every German train I was on was perfect, right to the minute. I look forward to leaving France on another German train later on today.

The camp in Fuessen was amazing. There were 119 campers (due to a last minute cancellation) from 17 countries. I had 20 campers, from 8 countries in my group. It was much like the other camps I’ve done, except for the obvious cultural differences. One of my colleagues was presented with a six-pack of Czech beer as a thank you gift. One of the other coaches was asked if they were going to go to the same bar as last year when the camp was done, because the 18-year old campers wanted to meet up.

But there was curling and coaching, mini golf and barbecues. All the things that make a camp a camp. The scenery was terrific, as were all the people, and I would go back in a heartbeat if I was ever invited.

In many respects, it was better than Trillium, the camp that I’ve worked at for the last ten years. The scenery is nicer, the lodging is better, the schedule is kinder, and the connections made bridge nations and continents instead of Ontario area codes. There is a giant medieval castle a few minutes away that one can tour when he has a free period during his week. Neuschwanstein Castle is perched on the side of a Bavarian Alp and actually was the inspiration for the Disney Castle . Guelph has… a Wal-Mart. In other respects, however, Fuessen was still 2^nd to Trillium. The kids aren’t as well behaved (in my humble opinion) due to both language barriers and cultural differences, the variety in ages, skill levels, and nationalities lead to clumping within a group, which is already larger than the 16 campers I’m used to. Regardless, the camp was amazing and before long Saturday afternoon rolled around and the campers were set free.

During the week, there was supposed to be an outing to a downhill slide/bobsled run that was cancelled because of rain. After our wrap up meetings on Saturday, much of the staff went over to the mountain and took a couple rides down before rushing back to the hotel to change for our closing party, courtesy of Keith and the WCF.

The closing party was a pretty little boat cruise on one of Fuessen’s many lakes which afforded us a lovely view of the mountain and the castle, while we joked, and laughed, and sang until we docked a few hours later. Some folks went into town, others went back to the hotel. I was part of the group that did some of each… and ended up going to Austria for gas and beer, before heading back to the hotel.

My train left for Amsterdam at 5:50am. Bjorn (my Swiss roomie and drinking buddy) was kind enough to drop me at the train station and keep right on going back to Switzerland . At one point, a few hours later, I woke up in a fog, dreading that I had slept through a stop where I was supposed to change trains. Eventually I realized that I was still almost three hours away from that stop, and that I was tired, perhaps still a little drunk, and certainly not familiar with the geography of Germany .

As planned, I ended up in Amsterdam around 2:30pm. After a brief stop in a Hemp Shop/Internet Café (there are many of them in Amsterdam) to locate my hotel information, I eventually walked the few blocks through streets that were at least moderately familiar from my visit two years ago.

I’m always amazed how a brain can do that. Of all the places I’ve ever been, I suddenly recognize that a shop seems familiar, or the feel of a particular neighbourhood reminds me that I’ve been there before. Amsterdam was a constant source of amazement in that experiment, because I constantly would feel that knew roughly where I was, without really having a clue… yet, I was always right.

For the day or two, things were pretty relaxed. A lot of walking around, a few drinks, a couple nice meals, and tours through the Red Light District. For those of you who are curious, I only ever partook of the internet offered in the special coffee shops, and none of the other local delicacies. The biggest letdown of the whole city, however, was that I couldn’t find any good clothes at Sissy Boy this time, where I got two great shirts on my last visit.

After Amsterdam , I kicked off one of the silliest days I’ve experienced in quite some time (honestly, for a 24 hour period, it destroys the “NYC and Back for 2 Ballgames” trip). Wake up in Amsterdam, train to Eindhoven, flight to Stanstead, England flight to Biarritz, France, taxi to Irun, Spain, and then a train to Pamplona, and a taxi to a place to stay. For the next 14 hours or so, I was surrounded by folks in white suits and red scarves and sashes, 99% of whom were absolutely trashed. There was music in the streets, crowds dancing and singing, and a general sense of festivity in every corner of every narrow street in the city.

I don’t think anybody does anything in Pamplona for the week of the San Fermin festival except party and sleep (but mostly party), from the time the bulls run in the morning until they pass out in a park sometime later that day. After watching the famed Running of the Bulls (and being dangerously close to deciding to participate), I split from Pamplona on a bus headed to Zaragoza which, if you must know, is almost two hours south of Pamplona. Almost exactly 24 hours after taking a taxi into Spain , I was on a flight out of it.

Before too long, I landed in Belgium . As is often the case with RyanAir flights, we landed in a city’s secondary airport, or a town only kinda nearby. So there I was at Charleroi , on a shuttle to the shiny metropolis of Brussels . After a nice steak at a local brasserie, I crashed pretty early at my 4 star hotel which was nice and cheap on Priceline.

The next day was filled with touristy things like Mini-Europe, the Atomium, and the Mannekin Pis, which I think will be my favourite thing about Brussels for a long time. The little statue of a peeing boy draws thousands of visitors a day, and is such an attraction that he has more than 800 costumes to wear depending on what sort of festivities need attention. Christmas, World Cup, holidays, etc. all require a special costume for the normally naked boy… which is how he was the day I saw him. There is, however, the Mannekin Pis tavern across the street from the statue, which has many of the costumes and artifacts on display to be enjoyed over a pint of La Chouffe.

The next day, I decided I should figure out how to get back to Munich to catch my flight home… which is where I left this last time. I was still on that train… leaving Luxembourg for Munich . I arrived in Munich around 3:30am. I took a taxi to another nice hotel I got on Priceline (oddly enough the same one that Greg stayed at when we were there two years ago… *talk about recognizing things when you’re not sure where you are! Try that at 3:30am after 7 hours on the train and a crazy taxi ride!).

I wish I could have spent more time in that room. It was a suite with three beds. I used one bed for about three hours, and I don’t think I moved for that whole time. The lines in my skin imprinted from the sheets and pillows were as deep as I’ve ever seen them. Regardless, I was up at 7:10am, on the shuttle to the airport at 7:30 and on a plane to Atlanta at 10:00. That was roughly 13 hours ago. As far as I can tell, I’m about one hour from Toronto , and I should arrive safely with all my bags. I’m just going to assume the rest of this all goes according to plan.

I land. I get through customs. I get my bags. I get a shuttle downtown. I walk into my apartment. If that doesn’t happen, I’ll change this later…

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2 Weeks, 8 Countries, 1 Great Trip

More Jets? Oh jeebus...