In Heaven There is No Beer

Belgian beer is AWESOME!

On Friday, Pete, Reid, and I left work at lunch and headed in the direction of the land of beer. We drove to Bergen Op Zoom, the Netherlands and stayed the night in preparation for the Christmas beer festival in Essen, Belgium. Bergen Op Zoom wasn't just fun to say, but it was a super cute town too. The three of us thought it was sort of Disney-esque. Oh, and I fell in love with the doors there.



Friday evening, when we got there, we got into our hotel, which was really great, then set out on finding some dinner. It was bitter cold, but the numbness didn't kill our fascination in the town and how quaint it was. We ate at this great restaurant and for some reason were immediately recognized as English speakers when we walked through the door. The soup was phenomenal and dinner was great, plus the Westmalle beer was wonderful.

The next morning we trolled the town some more, because the festival didn't start until 2 in the afternoon, so around 12:30 we found our way to the train station and made the trek to Essen, Belgium. Essen isn't big and it was clear from the line of people leaving our train and the station that there wasn't much else in the town but the festival, so we just followed the crowd. At this point, and when we arrived to the line out the door, it was clear that the male attendees made up probably about 87%.


The festival was in a gymnasium, basically. For 15 euro, you got a booklet listing all the beer they had to try, tasting notes, alcohol content, etc. plus 10 tickets. 1 ticket got you 1 tasting, but some of the beer was 2 tickets. The glass was 3 euro, but you got that back when you returned it, and it held .15L. (That's about 5oz or almost 1/2 a bottle of beer. It would also be good to note that the average alcohol content of the the beer was probably around 8-9%, but I also had to try the one with the highest alcohol content at the festival--12.5%. I weigh 108lbs.)


We sat down at a table next to these other two Americans who are stationed in Mons, Belgium, and about 6 Dutch on the other side of us. Everyone was really nice and the Dutch kept sharing the food they brought, even though you really weren't supposed to bring outside food in. They had this great dried meat with a clove taste, eggs, cheese straws, crackers, and I don't remember what else.

Me after who knows how many.

I think by tasting number 3, Pete, Reid, and I were very happy. No one was out of control there and it never got terribly crowded. I had 10 tastings and never had a bad beer. I loved it and had a great time.

Me, Reid, and Pete--beer connoisseurs

Holly Jolly Christmas

I've officially made the crossover in the Mac realm.  I'm now one of the cool kids.  That would be one reason why I haven't posted much in a while.  The other is that I'm lazy.  The best part about opening the package containing my new computer was the first page of the instruction manual.  "Congratulations, you and your MacBook Pro were made for each other."  If only men came with such instructions...  

I'm still trying to figure some things out and I'm realizing all these little keyboard shortcuts I used to rely on with my PC.  I need to transfer all of my music over to the new computer, but I just haven't had a lot of time (and I'm lazy).

In other news, we had a dinner cruise on the Rhine for our work holiday party.  It was nice to dress up and I wore heels without injuring myself.  I met some new people, got a nice dinner, and saw nothing on the banks of the Rhine, since it was pitch dark outside ;)  I've been fighting a cold for almost a week now, so I was the designated driver and didn't get to partake in as much beer as I would have normally.  I stuck to one early on, then quit after that.

My friend Julie was in Germany visiting a variety of Christmas markets, so on Sunday, she trained it to Wiesbaden and we went to another in Ruedesheim and in Wiesbaden.  It was nice to have a friendly face around and she was my first official guest.  

The Ruedesheim Christmas market was great, because of all the little streets in the city and the food was awesome too.  We stopped in a little restaurant, tried a Ruedesheimer coffee (there was liquor, fire, and sugar involved), had a waffle and just caught up.  

This weekend myself and two other guys are headed up to Belgium for the Christmas beer festival.  What is Christmas beer, you might ask.  Well, Christmas beer usually has more alcohol and that's about the only difference I've found.  Sounds like reason enough to call it Christmas beer, right?  Sometimes you just need a little extra to get through the holidays, don't you?  Belgian Christmas beer could be different, however, since they don't have a purity law like the Germans do.  The festival is being held in a tiny town north of Antwerpen, but we're actually staying in the Netherlands.  This will be my car's first official road trip.  I'm sure it'll be a fun weekend.

Baby It's Cold Outside

On Sunday the 23rd we had our first snowfall. I walked down into town for dinner and I had to use an umbrella because it was so wet and coming at me with velocity. The pictures aren't very good, but here are a few shots--the first two at the park in down the hill from my place and the second two are my street.

For Thanksgiving I walked about 40 yards, two buildings down my street to Kim and John's house. They hosted 10 people and did a wonderful job. They fixed the turkey, the sweet potatoes, and John's famous sauerkraut, then everyone else brought a dish to share. They even had a table large for everyone to sit together. We talked a lot, played a few games of darts, and I believe there was even a game of Euchre! (I'll play next time.) The game came on a little later and John apparently subscribes to some NFL package online, where you can watch all the games up until Tuesday after those games are played. So we watched the Titans spank the Lions, who I might add, have a worse record than the Bengals. At least one team does!

Friday after Thanksgiving we were able to leave work early--well, those of us who were actually at work. Since I got home with lots of light still left, I put on some extra layers and headed down the street to the Christmas market. I just intended to grab a cup of Glühwein and walk around, then come home. As I was walking around, however, I ran into a girl I knew, then more people I knew showed up, so I ended up staying for a while and added a Käsewurst to my tummy. I stayed until my feet were so cold I couldn't stand it.

I think I'm going to try for a wurst and a Glühwein every night for the next month until the market closes. I'm not sure I can actually obtain that goal, but I'll probably do a good job trying. Saturday night I met up with my boss, her family, and their guests somewhere for a beer, but I really wanted to go walk around the Christmas market. I saw a crepe stand the night before and told myself that was going to be my dinner. Luckily, when I was about finished with my beer three people showed up who wanted to walk around, so I went with them.

It was really crowded, but we pushed through to the crepe stand I had seen the night before. I think we all had a banana and Nutella crepe. Oh man was it good.

After that, we all had a cup of Glühwein, which Mike and his wife Lisa had never tried. Lisa wasn't a fan.

Then, it was wurst time! This time I had a bratwurst and tried out the hilarious mustard teet!!

The Story: Part II

The Internets

When I came back from Poland I still had almost another week to go without the internet, which was starting to drive me crazy. However, I was able to get through the withdrawl by stopping after work at the library on base to use it to check my mail and to pay a couple of bills that were coming due. A week ago Friday I stayed home to wait for the telephone technician and the window they gave me was 8-2. I was lucky, because the guy showed up around 10ish. He sets it up and says it should be working within 30 minutes, so I'm all excited and pacing around, thrilled at the idea of finally having the internet back. 30 minutes pass and I'm hooked up trying to establish the router connection.

What I had forgotten was that during a storm this past summer, while my computer was hooked up via the LAN cable, lighting or something killed the LAN port in my laptop and the only way I could get on the internet was via a wireless connection. I was annoyed, but there was nothing I could do, because the router first needed a wired connection before you could connect wirelessly. This past Monday, a friend of mine came over with his laptop, after I bribed him with food, so I could establish the router connection and connect wirelessly.

I'm also still waiting on my MacBook, which should be here any freaking day now. However, the APO mail system is another entirely different rant that I may save for later.

The Visit

The good thing about not having the internet last weekend was that I had been invited to go and see my former host family from high school, the Riegers. I've known them for many years now--13 or 14 is what Gaby and I figured--and I've tried to visit them every time I've been to Europe. The last time I saw them was, I think, 3 years ago. It was a wonderful weekend. They treat me like family and I feel so comfortable around them and in their house. It's nice, being so far away from my own family, to have one here who treats me like their own. As always, there was good food, good conversation, and good drink. I came home with southern german treasures too--beer from one of the small towns in their area (no, Dad it's not the one in the big brown bottle that starts with an 'N'.) I've had one every night since I got back.

A shepard and his sheep we came across while taking a walk in the Rieger's village of Heuchlingen.

The Break

This weekend I have nothing planned. I slept in a little, got up and enjoyed my coffee and scrambled eggs, and stayed in my warm robe, catching up and did some online shopping. This happens to be a good weekend for it, because the weather forecast predicted rain/snow and temperatures no higher than 35 the entire weekend. And snow is exactly what I saw when I woke up, too. It was enough to cover the ground. After being lazy, but productive with some laundry, I walked down the hill into town to get some onions from the market and to find something to wear to our Christmas cruise on the Rhein on the 6th. H&M came through.

Now I'm all caught up and so are you. Stay warm!

The Story: Part I

The Victory
Early morning Wednesday (around 11pm Tuesday on the east coast), the day I was to move in and the day after the elections, I woke up in the hotel, the internet was down, and I was dying to know who won or even if they’d declared a winner yet. I was pleased to turn on AFN in time to see McCain’s concession speech and shortly after that, Obama’s acceptance speech. Both, I thought, were very good—McCain was gracious and respectful, while Obama was refreshing and hopeful. I’ve heard many say, and I believe it as well, that having a black man as president will be good for our country and for our foreign policy. I believe diplomatic ties to countries will strengthen where they were barely visible before. (Climbs down off soapbox.)

The Move
After I arrived at my apartment and unloaded my car, I didn’t have to wait around in my empty apartment for very long until the movers arrived with my household goods. I only had to sit on the kitchen counter staring out the window or on the radiator ledge in my living room staring out the window for about 1.5 hours. It didn’t take them long to unload and bring in my things either. Granted, I don’t have much stuff to begin with since I, a.) didn’t have much to begin with and b.) downsized and got rid of a lot things before I left.

Movers unpacking the crates, which contained my household goods and furniture.

They weren’t going to unpack anything, but from the beginning, I’ve been told by everyone even before I left the U.S. that the movers will pack and unpack everything and that I should not to touch anything, because if you touch it and something comes out broken, you could be faulted for it. Apparently unpacking is not something movers typically do in Germany, but given that they’re supposed to, I argued with them in German to at least unpack my kitchen, reattach my mirror to my dresser (since I don’t have tools), and unpack all of my large paintings. My things arrived in good condition, save for a broken wheat beer glass I got in Austria, a broken drying rack, and a dented bookcase. The rest of the day was spent sorting, unpacking, and putting things away. That night I was exhausted.

Thursday I woke up and had to be ready by 8 again to get my air shipment, but they didn’t get here until after lunch. They came in, sat my 7 boxes down and then wanted me to sign the papers saying everything arrived. Here’s the conversation that ensued in German:

Me: What about the bike?
Movers: What bike?
Me: The bike that’s listed right here on the sheet, where it says 7 boxes and a “bike.”
Movers: Oh. We don’t have a bike. This is all we have.
Me: Awesome.

I spoke to a woman at the company and she said she’d put out “tracer” on it, whatever that means. This is actually a coworker’s bike, not my own, because it was in the shop when they came to pick up his things, so he asked if I had room for it in my small shipment. Apparently, it never left the U.S., because the German company didn’t receive a bike. It’s a very expensive bike…waaay more expensive than mine if you know about mine. (Dad is now thinking two things: 1.) How much was hers again? and subsequently 2.) “Oh my God!”) I felt bad breaking the news to Pete, because he hasn’t had much luck with housing. He’s been here a month longer than I have and is still in a hotel.

The Trip
Friday I went to work and was actually glad to go, because it meant human interaction and nothing to do with boxes, sorting, or finding places to put things. Around 9:45, I put in a vacation request for the end of the month, because I was invited to go to Poland over a couple days with some girls to shop for Polish pottery. My boss, Chantel, came out and said, “You know, if you want to go to Poland, Jen and I are leaving at 2:30. We’re staying in Dresden (Germany) Friday, going to Poland Saturday, then coming back to Dresden and having dinner with a friend of mine. Sunday we’ll drive back home.” The old me first thought to say no because I had so much to do at home and wanted to get things organized. The new me, however, decided that my crap would still be sitting there when I got back and it wasn’t important to unpack it this weekend, especially since I had no TV, radio, or internet and no other plans. So I said and left work early to go pack, then met up with the girls. (Are you counting your tax dollars, Mom?)

A shop with pottery on the shelves and baskets on the floor.

The weekend was great. I shared a room with my boss, which I thought would be weird, but it wasn’t at all. Also, it was fun to be around women. Most of my friends are men so doing girl things was sort of refreshing. I wasn’t certain I’d like the Polish pottery, because the few designs I’d seen here in Germany weren’t that appealing. The first store we went in I made a purchase and pretty much in every store thereafter I bought either for me or gifts for other people. The weather was pretty gross, but we enjoyed the shopping and had lunch at a great hotel/restaurant called the Blue Root.

Jen and Chantel waiting for lunch to arrive.

The city we were in was by no means built up or even modern. The buildings were drab and grey and you could tell who had money, possibly from the pottery business, by the new, elaborate houses. I’m glad we stayed in Dresden, though, because it helped with the drive on Sunday and Dresden is just a gorgeous city.

Building in Poland on a farm.

My treasures.

The Parking
Since I’ve lived in the house I’ve been able to park my car in the garage, which is so awesome, by the way. The garage and my space, however, are tight. My space is next to a large circular cement pole and a cement wall. I have to drive in, swing as wide right as possible without hitting anything, which is basically impossible because there are cars on either side, then continue to do about a 28 point turn trying to fit into it. It’s stressful and I hate it, but I’m going to keep trying until I figure out a way where I only have to do an 8 point turn.

Friday morning, a coworker comes up to me and asks, “what happened to your car?” I told him that the last night at the hotel I had to park on the street, under a tree and that a bird must have had some bad Mexican, because there were about 7 runny blobs of bird crap covering my hood. I was quite embarrassed driving it looking like that. He said, “no, I’m talking about the marks you have on your right front bumper.” My heart sank into my toes and I went out to look. Sure enough, I had scuffed it probably during one of my many maneuvers to get into my space, but hadn’t heard a thing. After I washed it Friday, though, it didn’t look as bad—just a couple of scuffs on the edges protruding on my bumper. I plan to get it fixed after I get the hang of parking in my spot.

Another issue with parking has been that twice someone has been in my spot. The day before I moved in, I bought groceries and went to the apartment to put them away. Sure enough, I pulled in and there was someone in my spot. Not having any clue who to ask, I was lucky that someone was leaving the garage, so I ran over and asked the man in the car. Since my apartment is owned by the doctor who has his practice next door, he explained that it was probably Dr. King. So I had to go to the practice and explain to the woman at the desk that someone was in my spot. Apparently he allowed people from his staff to park there when no one lived in the apartment.

I haven’t had any other problems until tonight (Thursday, November 13th) when I came home late around 6 to find a car there. Highly annoyed, I thought of parking in someone else’s space, where I haven’t seen a car for days, but figured it best to park on the street. I marched in the house, wrote a nice, but forceful note in German explaining that it was my spot and that the apartment was no longer empty so you can’t park here anymore. I happened to catch my neighbor, who lives across from me and asked her what to do when someone was in my spot. I had to keep from laughing, because her reaction was such that you’d have thought you told her the Earth was flat. She just couldn’t believe it. So her husband came down with me to see if he recognized the car. Just as we opened the door to the garage, they were pulling out and he explained to them that it was my spot and they can’t park there (I couldn’t actually hear what he was saying, but that, I’m guessing, was the gist). They said starting tomorrow, no one from Dr. King’s office would park in that spot. Thank God for wine…

The American
I’ve been asked on, I think, 5 occasions now if I am an American. They’ve all just double-checked. One was my neighbor across the hall and the other old man I met in the garage the first day I tried to park. I’m flattered actually. I haven’t spoken German on a regular basis in years and I still wouldn’t say it’s on a regular basis, but it’s at least several times a week, depending on how much I go out or how many times I have to call the moving company about my friend’s bike. I realize I’m making mistakes and honestly I just don’t care anymore. I think it’s because I’m not learning the language anymore and I’m also a more confident person that I used to be. And frankly, I think Germans are a little nicer to Americans who can speak German--at least around here, where there are so many Americans anyway. Some of the people I work with know enough to order at restaurants and for courtesies, but I don’t think the Germans can figure me out. There’s something off about me (no comments from the Peanut Gallery necessary, thank you) when I speak and that’s flattering if they can’t catch the accent I have. So that’s why I’ve been asked, “Sie sind doch Amerikanerin, oder?”

**It's Tuesday, November 18th and I just got my internet set up last night. I'll post the hilarity and the rest of my goings on later this week or this weekend in Part II.

Still

I just wanted to let everyone know that I'm still alive, but I don't have internet. Right now I'm sitting at a weird bar/casino/pool place on base and there are lots of weird and creepy people here. The interent is supposed to be turned on at my house on Friday, so keep your fingers crossed. I'll be posting a big blog about everything that has gone on since I moved into my apartment. I was in Poland this weekend ;)

Patience

Happy election day eve!!

All of my stuff supposedly arrived--my air shipment AND my household good are here. Do you know what that means? I don't have to sleep on an air mattress for weeks. I get my own bed, with my own sheets and pillows. My comfortable couch and throne-like chair are available for my rear end's imprint. It means Tuesday is my last night in the hotel and I'll be almost settled.

I was surprised when the in-bound shipment office called me back and told me that both of my shipments arrived. My furniture and everything will be delivered on Wednesday and my air shipment will be delivered on Thursday. Yikes!! I have a lot to do!

Tomorrow I have an 8:30 appointment at BMW to get my Euro maps installed (thankfully). After that, I'm headed to base to get some VAT forms (value added tax--I can explain later if you really want to know) and possibly stop at a store on base to see if I can get some household items knocked off my list. I need to get things that are a must before the weekend, like a hair dryer (stop laughing) and a coffee pot (you couldn't live without it either). However, I'm just going to go to a Walmart-like store called Real in the evening with a friend of mine to get that stuff, plus a vacuum, and an iron. (Keep in mind that all appliances run on 220V over here instead of 110V and they have a different plug, so I need all new stuff.) I also need to get food to get me through the next few days at least and also some cleaning stuff, laundry soap and dishwasher soap. (Can you believe it?? I have a dishwasher!)

I'll be a busy bee tomorrow. Hopefully, since I have to be at the apartment at 8 on Wednesday to start waiting, they'll be there fairly early, otherwise, it's going to be pretty darn boring in an empty apartment with nothing to sit on, looking at a white wall! At least I'll have time to figure out where I want my most prized piece of art to hang and where my few pieces of furniture will go.

I may be MIA for a while after I move in, because I just ordered internet today and they said to come back in 5 days to see what day it would be when they actually turn it on. Keep your fingers crossed it's not long, because the internet is my portal to my family, my friends, and to the world.

Make certain you go out and vote tomorrow. This election makes me nervous. I'm either going to be very happy or extremely disappointed. Make me proud Ohio!

Already In

Funny things I saw today:

• A HUGE pile of steaming manure. No joke. It was the height, length, and width of two full-size SUVs in a field on the side of the road. I was on the phone with someone when I spotted it, so at least I have a witness to my laughter.

• More crack than I care to see. Actually it was more like a half moon from a man squatting in his yard to pick up leaves or trash or something. I don't really know what he was picking up because I looked away as quickly as I could

I left work early today so I could meet our housing guy, Vincent, for the walk-through inspection of the apartment. So I hurried home, parked at the hotel, then walked over to the apartment. Once inside, he had me sign a few things, like an understanding that if there is damage to the apartment other than normal wear and tear, it's my responsibility to pay. Then I took the sheet and started walking around the rooms, looking for any damage already there. All in all it's in good shape, because the floors are new, as are the tiles and fixtures in the bathroom. I found a few things and was overly careful, because repairs are expensive here.

No one I've spoken to has had a good experience with Vincent and honestly, the first time I met him my first week here, he was condescending and only had bad things to say about the last few new people who had arrived looking for housing. The other day, while in his office, when I asked if the landlord would be there to meet when I walked through, he again condescendingly said that I shouldn't worry, because the landlord spoke perfect English. I told him it didn't matter, because I spoke fluent German. I wish I had a camera, because the look on his face was absolutely priceless. Other people I've spoken to said that they know when walking through apartments, Vincent would say things about them in German to the potential landlords and he was recently caught, when he didn't realize that someone understood German.

So during the walk through, I'm opening cabinets, blah, blah, blah. He's telling me how to open them, as if a hinge and a handle aren't big enough clues for me. He showed me which keys went in which lock, which way the teeth to the keys went, and how to open the door. Then, in the garage, he's telling me how I should drive in and park. Apparently, he doesn't work easily with women, especially strong women, and likes to be in charge of everyone, no matter their sex (this is what I'm told and I've confirmed it during the few times I've had to meet with him). So I'm figuring it was his way of showing dominance and intelligence.

Anyway, I met the landlord, whose last name I've forgotten. He's a doctor and his practice is literally next door, but I don't know if he lives there too. He's so tall that he has to duck going through doors. He seemed nice.

So now I have a house--I walked away with keys and garage door opener in hand.

I also got a call today telling me that my air shipment is in. I called when I got home from the apartment, but he wanted me to call back on Monday so I could schedule a day and time with the movers. Tuesday I have an appointment at BMW to get my German maps installed too.


Soon I won't be homeless and I'll have direction ;)

Ever Present Past

I took this from my hotel window at sunset on Wednesday night.

Last night I went to a girls night at this woman's house in Mainz. She made this wonderful Mexican food, white and red sangria, and margaritas. I tried both white and red (I didn't want to be rude), but stuck to red the rest of the night. I pigged out on the food too. It's hard to find Mexican food over here and if you do, something is usually just a bit off. So I was thrilled when I walked in and found out there were enchilladas and fixin's for nachos. After some talking, we watched the Sex in the City movie.

Today I'm a year older and no longer on the cusp of my 20s. I had nothing planned and I almost up and left for Tongeren, Belgium this morning. It's the oldest city in Belgium, but on Sundays starting aroudn 6am or something, they have an outdoor antique market and you can apparently find some really great stuff. I saw a couple things at the house I was at last night and I've heard other people say they've bought some great stuff. Without my GPS and with no other map than the Wiesbaden and surrounding areas, I decided against it. Plus, if I bought something I didn't want to have it in my hotel room. So I've saved that for another weekend when I have GPS and a place to put stuff. Plus there were a few women last night who said they'd go back any time.

Instead, I wandered through the city today. Stopped and got a hot bread thing from the bakery topped with mozerella and tomato and kept wandering. I walked up to the street where I'm going to be living to the apartment, then down to the park directly in front of my place.

My place is the second balcony from the right on the first floor. I have a garage too. It's a shared garage for the building, but I get a space for my car. I couldn't imagine leaving Rouble (that's her name--Trouble without the T) out on the street.

I think I'm headed out to dinner soon, which you can bet will include a big birthday beer!

Better Than

Today, I arrived at the Army Housing office prepared to take the apartment I liked. They told me I needed a memo from my organization's housing office, so I went to find one of the two men who work in that office. In a very round about way, I found Steve, who has been out on leave since I got here and whom I haven't met yet. I walked in, told him what I wanted to do, and after hearing that I wanted to live in Wiesbaden, told me to trust him, because he was going to show me a place downtown that the government already has leased. With no one living in it, the government is just paying for an empty apartment. (Pretend you didn't read that when you're paying taxes.)

The apartment sits in a building right next to a park. It's huge! There are, I think, three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living area, and a large hallway. The hardwood floors and bathroom fixtures, tubs, and sinks are brand new. There is a porch off the front and a patio with a small yard in the back. The only thing not new is the kitchen, which is kinda ugly, but not terrible. It's about a 10-15 minute walk to the pedestrian area and since it sits on the the edge of the park, you might think of it as a mini Central Park. You can view its location and the proximity to the pedistrian area. I saw another property the government has a lease on, but it wasn't nearly as nice as this one.

I decided it's what I wanted and Steve told me he could probably have it worked out so that I wouldn't have to move in until my air shipment arrives on 3 November. In it, I have an air matress, dishes, other things I'd need and comforts of home. There you go. I have a home. I asked if I earned some kind of prize for getting a house so quickly and he thought I should.

I actually went to work after that. Gasp!!! My accounts are working, the rest is boring. After work and after I dilly-dallied a bit at home, I decided to go out to dinner instead of staying home again, even though it was sprinkling and kinda gross. I had dinner at Le Petit Tartin. I started with a French onion soup, then moved on to Flammkuchen. (Tarte Flambee: a kind of 'French pizza' from Alsace made from a very thin layer of pastry topped with sour cream, chopped onions and bacon.) I chose the original, which was mushrooms, cheese, bacon, and some cream cheese sort of spread. Of course, I also had a nice Syrah is go with it. Yumm!

So there you go. In 11 days, I've accomplished a lot. Let's hope my streak continues.

Speed of Sound

Saturday, I spent my evening with some people at the Mainz Oktoberfest. I had a liter of beer and a bratwurst, while talking and watching the people walk by in their weird outfits. We were sitting right by the entrance, so we had the first look at everyone who came in. I wish I could have set up a tripod and taken a picture of the people entering the tent, just like they do when you board a cruise ship.

Sunday I was a total slug until around 5 when I headed out the door to my sponsor Chantel’s house for dinner and some football on AFN. It was a bit of a drive out there, but I had no problem driving. I found my way to the country on Google maps before I left, since I don’t have the Euro maps loaded on my BMW, and only made one slight wrong turn, but got there in plenty of time.

When I got there, as soon as I opened the door, their standard poodle Bacchus was ready to greet me (or he was just jealous and wanted to smell the new car too). The other fairly new guy Pete was already there, so we were given our choice of beer from the fridge, poured them into the appropriate glasses, and then Chantel took us on a tour of her ENORMOUS house. I almost got lost, but what really floored me was the pool in the basement. Yes, a pool, that can be heated if desired.

Her husband Ryan made this great sweet potato soup, but it didn’t taste like sweet potato for those of you thinking, “she hates sweet potatoes.” He made bread to go with it and then this great baked fish, for which I plan to get recipe. After dinner, we sat in the living room and watched some football, which included the 1989 Super Bowl runners-up, the Cincinnati Bengals. My goodness they are painful to watch. The only reason AFN had the game on was because the power in San Diego was on the fritz.

I said something to Chantel last night about going in to work on Monday, but she said that I should try to get some appointments to see some houses. This morning, I was at the housing office at 8, flipping through the book of places they have and I wrote down a few. They printed off directions for me, called the landlord, and I made some appointments. I saw three out of four places today, all in Wiesbaden in the city. The first had a wonderful view of Wiesbaden from this huge balcony and was advertised as 2 bedrooms, but technically only had 1. You could put up a curtain, the woman said, in this little area and make it a 2nd. You could, but it would make the apartment so much smaller. It also had a weird garage, which I don’t even want to attempt to explain in words.

The 2nd place I saw was on a main street, but in this huge 100+ year old building 2 minutes from the pedestrian area downtown. The apartment is the entire top floor, has 3 bedrooms, 1.5 bathrooms, a huge living area, a huge kitchen (by German standards), a nice balcony, and fake hardwood floors. I loved it! I had lunch in town, relaxed in my room and then I was off to see another place. It was nice and new, but sat on a very busy street and was a bit of a hike to the center of town for restaurants, etc. So tomorrow I’m going into the housing office first thing to tell them I think I’d like to take the place. It’s a little weird that I may have found something so quickly because everyone else seems to have trouble and has been looking for a month. So I’m apprehensive for that reason, but really like the house. Fingers crossed…

For those of you counting your tax dollars, I’m on day number 10 in country and I still haven’t been to work, save for a few hours last Wednesday. Can you itemize my time on your taxes??