Dijon

This weekend, I took a train to Dijon, France to see Becky. Well, that isn't entirely true. I actually took four trains. Only once or twice did I feel as if I had no idea what I was doing. Luckily, I can understand French pretty well when it is spoken to me. Of course, articulating my own thoughts isn't always quite so easy. I think I now have a slightly better understanding of how it would feel to be mute. I did, however, make all of my connections, got a lot of reading done, and even made some friends. People everywhere are very willing to help. Even, sometimes, when they have no idea what it is that is needed from them.

When I found Becky, who came from Périgueux, also by train, but a bit later, we found something to eat, and then somewhere to stay, since it was getting dark. We managed to avoid this:

And so many people tell me that French is such a pretty language. Maybe they were trying to say that it was lunch, and more. I have no idea. Luckily, we managed to find good food, despite Flunch's best efforts. We stayed at the not-glorious but more than satisfactory Hotel Jacquemart, and enjoyed the market, the sights, and a chilly bike tour of some of wine country:

Yes, that is the local dump just outside of Dijon. We should not have expected better for following the path between the train tracks and the canal, but things did improve once we got a bit further from the city. If it had only been a bit warmer, we might have been able to go much further.

Our days proceeded as such, from one half-understood conversation with a French person to the next (they were indeed all very nice) and when the time came to leave, we said our goodbyes, getting on our respective trains. It took me thirteen hours, but I made it back in one piece, thanks to many helpful railroad employees and fellow customers, and the man who drove me back from Freiburg. It is much cheaper to set up a ride with a stranger than with a commercial transportation agency. Oh well, I'm sure they'll keep trying.

Oh, and for those to whom Freiburg is of import, I am happy to say that I had about an hour to wander around, and get an ice cream cone from my favorite ice cream place outside of Newburgh, NY. It is sooo good. Here's a picture of the church near where I stayed in Freiburg at night. It brings back good memories.

Traffic

Ok, this was the weekend of transit and traffic. Winnie and I missed our first train down to Kreuth, but luckily the one sitting right next to it was also going there. So much for German efficiency. The train didn't take long, and was comfortable, so all was well. Now, I must not be sleeping enough during the week, because when we got there, I put my bag down in my room, and basically fell into bed, asleep. Mind you, this was five o'clock in the evening. I woke up around eleven and got something to eat (from the strangest fondue machine I've ever seen) and went back to sleep. I then slept another ten hours. I need to go to sleep earlier during the week, and that's that.

Saturday, we went on a family bike ride. Nothing that we've done together has gone so well. I could say that if it weren't for the traffic we ran into. No, not cars; cars aren't allowed on the path we were taking. I could not for the life of me figure out what was going on. I thought we were approaching a church, but we never got to it. It was a church on wheels. Almost. This church had hooves. We came around the corner upon about fifty cows, each with a cowbell at least the size of my head. There was no way around them so, for about half an hour, we moved at about the slowest pace at which a bicycle can move, dodging land mines left and right. I found it hilariously absurd, but I seemed to be the only one. By the time the cows were turned off of the path and into a pasture, about thirty-five bikes had gathered in a gaggle (I've done a little research, for those whom such things interest, and that is the correct term) had gathered behind them and now sped off at various speeds. I can only apologize that my camera sat in my backpack the entire time, at the house, and say that I've done my best to portray it in words. I also drove a car for the first time in a foreign country. Huzzah!

Today, Sunday, not only did I drive the car, I drove fast. We (Winnie and I) spent about an hour sitting in almost stopped traffic. Then, we got on the Autobahn, and things started moving a little better. Actually, things started moving a lot better. Some of you might not know this, though you really should (it's the one thing everyone knows about Germany), but there is no speed limit, so to speak, on the Autobahn. I started out not going so fast, but as I got more comfortable, I noticed that the speedometer had moved up a bit, and I realized that I was ok with going faster. For the mothers (and other worriers) out there, fear not. I was very careful. I never passed anyone at such high speeds, and I had my mind on nothing but the road the entire time I was on the Autobahn. However, I did travel at 190 km/hr. I won't translate that to a less logical system, only so that those of you who do not want to know musn't, and those of you who do can let it hit you slowly. Thinking about it, it isn't that fast, but it's certainly much faster than I ever could have found myself comfortable driving in the US.

I'll leave you with that. More happened this weekend but, honestly, nothing so interesting.