6.19.2006 :: leaving Amsterdam
We woke up late. I guess we're still recovering from jet lag and adjusting to living out of a bag.
After breakfast aboard the hostel's "dining hall," which was a smaller canal boat docked to our larger cargo ship, we left for the free ferry. As soon as we left, it started pouring.
I mean really pouring.
We were forced to take refuge under the canopy of a cafe, and the rain slowed just in time for us to make it the rest of the way to the ferry dock.
:: the rain. ridiculous amounts of pouring rain.
:: pouting about soggy socks
:: Bad Bentheim, Germany
It's tough to find your way in a foreign city. You don't know where anything is, you're not familiar with the public transportation and you're carrying monstrous luggage on your young, innocent shoulders.
It gets better when your sense of direction may be only very slightly under par.
So we arrived in Bad Bentheim without a clue of where our destination, the Bentheim Castle, was located. So we asked at the info booth, only to be instructed, "Go outside. Walk toward the castle." Now, I'm may not be known for my extraordinary sense of direction, but these kind of directions even I can handle.
Did I mention I desperately love tiny German towns?!?
After ascending the world's longest, windiest, steepest cobblestone street carrying fully-loaded backpacks on our [still] young, innocent shoulders, we arrived at the Bentheim Castle.
:: "you mean i have to climb all the way up there?! no way. i'm staying right here."
:: main gate
:: gardens from atop Bentheim Castle. notice the people strolling in the gardens. they're as tiny as can be!
:: i might stay here forever . . .
:: um, the castle . . . through the castle.
:: in the dungeon
:: aren't red-thatched roofs charming?
:: adam: "and this toast goes to, well, me and my castle. That's right. MY castle." . . . followed by a healthy portion of bratwurst and fries.
:: another castle photograph
:: conclusions
a quiet German town with a castle at the center. gardens left and right. clean streets. what can i say but . . . Charm-O-Rama.
here i began to realize thatGermany is Germany
at the risk of sounding anti-American, which i don't intend to do, i'll note that, in the States, we herald diversity--yes, by necessity we herald diversity because we’re a melting pot of cultures-- to the point that we have little other than burgers, the Superbowl and Hollywood to call “American.”
we may have little in common with those living only a block away. and there are perhaps very few traditions to call national culture, because we spend more of our time being tolerant rather than being American. and we're stronger for it. perhaps more cynical, but stronger.
Germany, however, is a place unto itself.
While not backward or ignorant of the world beyond--on the contrary, here i encountered only well-thought and well-traveled persons--German culture is in no way assimilated to surrounding cultures.
No diversity, only nationalism. …but more on nationalism later…
We woke up late. I guess we're still recovering from jet lag and adjusting to living out of a bag.
After breakfast aboard the hostel's "dining hall," which was a smaller canal boat docked to our larger cargo ship, we left for the free ferry. As soon as we left, it started pouring.
I mean really pouring.
We were forced to take refuge under the canopy of a cafe, and the rain slowed just in time for us to make it the rest of the way to the ferry dock.
:: the rain. ridiculous amounts of pouring rain.
:: pouting about soggy socks
:: Bad Bentheim, Germany
It's tough to find your way in a foreign city. You don't know where anything is, you're not familiar with the public transportation and you're carrying monstrous luggage on your young, innocent shoulders.
It gets better when your sense of direction may be only very slightly under par.
So we arrived in Bad Bentheim without a clue of where our destination, the Bentheim Castle, was located. So we asked at the info booth, only to be instructed, "Go outside. Walk toward the castle." Now, I'm may not be known for my extraordinary sense of direction, but these kind of directions even I can handle.
Did I mention I desperately love tiny German towns?!?
After ascending the world's longest, windiest, steepest cobblestone street carrying fully-loaded backpacks on our [still] young, innocent shoulders, we arrived at the Bentheim Castle.
:: "you mean i have to climb all the way up there?! no way. i'm staying right here."
:: main gate
:: gardens from atop Bentheim Castle. notice the people strolling in the gardens. they're as tiny as can be!
:: i might stay here forever . . .
:: um, the castle . . . through the castle.
:: in the dungeon
:: aren't red-thatched roofs charming?
:: adam: "and this toast goes to, well, me and my castle. That's right. MY castle." . . . followed by a healthy portion of bratwurst and fries.
:: another castle photograph
:: conclusions
a quiet German town with a castle at the center. gardens left and right. clean streets. what can i say but . . . Charm-O-Rama.
here i began to realize that
at the risk of sounding anti-American, which i don't intend to do, i'll note that, in the States, we herald diversity--yes, by necessity we herald diversity because we’re a melting pot of cultures-- to the point that we have little other than burgers, the Superbowl and Hollywood to call “American.”
we may have little in common with those living only a block away. and there are perhaps very few traditions to call national culture, because we spend more of our time being tolerant rather than being American. and we're stronger for it. perhaps more cynical, but stronger.
Germany, however, is a place unto itself.
While not backward or ignorant of the world beyond--on the contrary, here i encountered only well-thought and well-traveled persons--German culture is in no way assimilated to surrounding cultures.
No diversity, only nationalism. …but more on nationalism later…
posted by Kristin at 6:00 PM
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