Alpine Summer

Getting to Konstanz was crazy. We were finally getting used to the train system, so we braved the first weekend expedition will little trepidation. We planned out the trains to where we only had to switch twice and the longest trip was on the nicest type of train on the Eurail, the ICE. It's generally the only kind with air conditioning and actual leg room!

So we get up and get to the train station in the Schwä (( as we now fondly call our Gmünd )) at about 9:15. Trains run perfectly -- we didn't miss any and all were on time. However, there was a little confusion on where we were at certain points. We knew that we were supposed to get off the ICE in Singen. Listening to the announcements of the stops -- which, in itself, was a luxury not found on many of the other trains -- only piled on more confusion. Apparently, every stop in the vicinity of Singen sounded like Singen over the loud speaker. So we spent a fair amount of time standing near the exit, hoping not to miss the stop we needed. Everything wound up well, and we arrived in Konstanz without any problems.

At this point, I guess I ought to mention the problems I've been having with my foot / ankle. Namely, I don't know what the problems are. My foot has been swollen for a couple of weeks now and, after walking on the field trips and around the Schwä, my ankle also became swollen. Luckily, the plan was to take it easy this weekend in Konstanz. So, inside the bahnhof is a little store. We go in, buy a map, and try desperately to locate the street on which the hostel I had information about is. Sadly, I don't really know how long a kilometre is, so I had no idea how far or how close it was, even after finally finding the street (( that, in itself, was quite a feat )). Before heading out completely, we stop by the tourist information center and try to find if there is anything to actually do in Konstanz or if we were just going to laze around. Basically, all I learned was that there was a "SeaLife" museum-thing and approximately a million and a half castles.

















Then we started the magical trek to our hostel. Who would have thought that, after the marktplatz, the town goes uphill? Or that the most direct route to the hostel would be over 2.5 miles? Or that it would be extremely hot? I had to stop a few times because of my foot. When we found the street where our hostel was located, we noticed that it also headed uphill at a steep angle. We brave it as it seems to take an hour to climb, and then it dead ends. Interestingly enough, it dead ends into a cemetery. On the right was what appeared to be a prison with a huge tower attached to it. We check the map several times to make sure we're on the right street and whatnot, and eventually decide to ask around. The problem with this: pretty much no one at the top of the street knew English. Finally, we find one woman who points to the prison-like thing and says "Place for youngsters".

We decide this must be the hostel and start walking toward it. The nearer we get, the louder we hear the shouts and laughs of children. It takes us over an hour to check in to the hostel, and meanwhile they pile fees upon deposits upon more fees and deposits. When we're finally done, we feel like we've given them almost all of our money. On top of that, they put me in a room on the 5th floor of the tower and Luke in a room just outside of the lobby. Oh, I forgot to mention that there were about 150 kids staying in the hostel (( by kids I mean less than 10 years old )). All of whom were really loud.

















The winding stairs up the tower were horrible. Each step was about 10 inches above the previous, the steps were about 18 inches wide and about 5 inches deep. All in all, that equals bad design. And then, add on the kids running up and down the halls and yelling. After braving the stairs and putting my stuff away, we decided to see if there was anywhere in the town where we could stay for cheaper. Now that we knew the distance and terrain, we decided to try out the bus system. While waiting at the nearest stop, an old woman with a small dog (( I think a bichon frise )) came up and started looking at the bus schedule and talking to us in German. I explain that we don't speak German, so she asks if we speak English. I'm excited that she does, but as soon as I tell her that we do, she starts complaining about how Americans think they can go anywhere in the world and everyone will just speak English for them. I then have to apologize for all Americans, and she soon forgives us all. She asks us where we are staying, and we tell her about the hostel but how we're looking for somewhere else. She tells us that there is a hotel somewhere down the road and writes down for us how to ask if they have any vacancy. She explains that she cannot go with us because she has an excursion the next day and she has to get to the bahnhof by 7:30 AM (( over 12 hours from then )).

As we start to head in the direction she told us, she decides to take us there. She tells us that she can't go in and talk to us because of her excursion. At about this point we realize that she is speaking to us in English, herself in German, and her dog (( Poopie )) in French. When we get to the hotel (( not really that far, but not up that mountain to the tower )), we thank her for her help and say good-bye. She begins to leave, and then runs into the hotel. She shouts back to us that she just saw a sign that said there was a vacancy, so she was going in to ask them how much it was. (( I realize that the story might be getting a little confusing now, but just understand this old lady is crazy and it should all work out for you )). She talked to them and found out that one woman there spoke a little English and that the rooms were about the same price as the hostel rooms, but there were no fees or deposits to worry with. And it was nicer. And it had a biergarten right below it, so we didn't have to search for somewhere to eat dinner.

















So, on the prompting of the crazy lady, we went back to the hostel. We told them that we had to leave and got our money back. We went back to the hotel, settled in, and had dinner. Dinner was really good. At one point, we were asking the waitress what putenfleishe was, and her response was "It's like chicken, but it's not chicken. I don't know the word." We later learned that puten was turkey. So we had some tasty putenfleishe schnitzel and took a walk around the park.