Deutschland

Would you believe it that Max has visited three separate Christmas Markets, and I don’t have one picture to show for it? It’s almost as if I’m lying to you. That’s not impossible. These places sound pretty imaginary – Schwäbisch Gmünd, Schorndorf, and Donzdorf. Schorndorf has the biggest Santa hat I’ve ever seen, at the top of a government building. Max has one more week in Germany, so perhaps I’ll snap a few pictures before he leaves. It’s the perfect opportunity for classy Christmas photos right now. It snowed yesterday, all day long, and it stuck pretty well, which will look nice along with the Advent calendar city building in the background.

As I said, one week in Germany, and then Elizabeth and Max say goodbye. (Forever?) I’m sure this is an extraordinarily emotional time for them. Or not. We’ll never know. The cats, too, are probably pretty bummed, having grown very used to a world without dogs. I don’t look forward to breaking that news to them. I personally have an additional four German-filled weeks, so I’ll save my sadness for later. It’ll drown nicely in Döner.

A moving company is packing up and taking all of our belongings next Monday. For insurance purposes, Elizabeth and I had to count and valuate every piece of whatever we own. The task felt manageable at first (57 T-shirts, 9 dresses…). But then confidence was quickly shattered by the smallest of the junk drawers and its 35 separately recordable items. Next time, it’s all going into the trash. Would’ve happened this time, too, except a German trashcan is the size of a baby backpack and pickup is twice per month. Anyway, our trashcan is already earmarked for cut-up strips of area rug.

Canceling German services is proving to be an impossible task. It's as if Germans are trees rooted to the ground. The worst is GOA (garbage). Elizabeth visited them in person, because their website is worthless, and the lady blew her off with a phone number. That's the exact opposite of customer service. Way to ruin Germany, GOA.

Veterinarians, too. If I end up coming home without any cats, NO ONE IS EVER ALLOWED TO SPEAK OF IT.

I’m not sick—don’t listen to Elizabeth—but I’m not really eating, and I burned through 200+ cough drops last week. Apparently cough drops make you really gassy? I guess? I for one will be relieved to get out of Germany; the new people downstairs smoke constantly, and the cloud hangs out in my apartment and bores a hole in my skull.

I’m skipping the company Christmas party, in typical Kyle fashion. When I originally declined the invitation, I argued that I’d be too busy with the move. But it all turned out for the best, because there’s no way I’m eating in public yet. I doubt they would’ve served me room-temperature, chunkless soup anyway.

Lastly, Max's grandparents were here briefly last week. I awkwardly sat with them at dinner, quiet and not eating. Sorry, you guys!

It’s possible this is my final entry…as short and lame as it is. If so: thank you for exploring European life with me. Writing about my experiences helped make them manageable. Germany is fantastic, and I would recommend it to absolutely anyone, but I cannot wait to be home. This social crap is not who I am.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

What can I share today?

Alb Marathon 50K was fantastic. The race is mostly individuals, but about 50 teams also participated. I ran on a team of 10, all Bosch employees, and go assigned the opening 5 kilometers. Expectations were stupid high, which made me anxious, considering the number of runs I had to skip due to vacations and baby troubles. (Nothing specifically has been wrong with Max. He just kinda sucks at life and has very strong opinions about how I should spend my free time.) But muscle memory prevailed, and I finished my 5K leg in 18:35. Running in the front pack of 5 was exhilarating, if not entirely deserved. I should run the first 5K of marathons more often. Our team ultimately finished 3rd overall, a 10-minute improvement over their performance last year.




Glühwein is available in stores these days, which means the Christmas season is upon us. (No, it’s not too early. Germany celebrates neither Halloween nor Thanksgiving.) I’ve already bought, I think, 3 boxes of the stuff. (“Boxes”, because it’s cheaper, of course.) It’s a few more weeks until the Christmas markets open. I’ll post pictures again this year. It’s our last Christmas in Germany. I’ll certainly miss the candied almonds and gingerbread, the Schupfnudeln and Fleischküchle. Elizabeth and I in the past have visited a wide variety of Christmas markets, including the world-famous Esslingen medieval market as well as that one in a cave. So this year we’ll keep it simple, no travel, support local. In any case, I’m too Scrooge-y to enjoy spending € 3 on a glass of Glühwein when I can buy at the grocery 5 times as much for just € 1. No, scratch that; I’m too David Tennant-y to enjoy that.




Elizabeth and I are wrapping up our German lives. Already I’ve exchanged my German driver’s license back for my Kentuckian. Various people have called dibs on most of our furniture. Being home—Kentucky has always been home—will be a relief, though I’ll miss pretty much everything about Germany. Except the language. The language still makes me feel stupid.

And last week I FINALLY celebrated Max's birth at work. The best part: Elizabeth and Max came, too. Everyone at the office loved Max. My coworkers passed him around without incident.

My phone’s camera is broken. Have I mentioned that? So we’ll see what pictures I can scrounge up for this post.

Visitors! Eric arrived in Germany and turned Elizabeth and my humdrum lives into a whirlwind of adventure. Eric’s first days were for knocking out mandatory local restaurants and sights. For food, we hit Paulaner Wirtshaus, Ali Baba, and Schnitzelhäusle. Visited the library (for a used book sale) and the local flea market. While at the library I bought a picture book titled “The Full Moon and the Empty Bear,” which is every bit as depressing as it sounds. The best day was our hike through Taubentalwald, because now Max can say he’s been to the top of Schwäbisch Gmünd’s lookout tower…and saw alpacas. We could’ve played mini-golf, but I’m too cheap to be paying 9 euros.




The adventuring was put on hold after that weekend, when Eric broke off from us to take a week-long romp to Italy. Baby Max was so devastated that he was feverish and an overall nightmare until Eric returned. Elizabeth took Max to the doctor during the worst of it.

Within hours of Eric’s return, I dragged all of us to Jelly (Gsälz) Fest, though that was a gigantic letdown. While it had begun as a pleasant day, sudden rain and the accompanying 20-degree temperature drop crushed our enthusiasm for homemade jams. We bought zero jam. Everyone was wet and cold, but we stuck around because of the sunk entrance fee. Worst of all, the “dog show” main event was most underwhelming. And the people there kept glaring at us for whispering. (Not two feet away on the sidewalks, hundreds of people were walking by and talking at full volume. But whatever.)

A heated music tent salvaged the Fest for us a bit, with its traditional German bands. Plus, Currywurst. But still…a disappointing day.

The next day, sufficiently recovered, we all hopped onto a bus to Heubach to hike to the Rosenstein. Expectations were high. There was nice weather, one-euro bus rides, and plans for a nice dinner afterwards. Elizabeth brought out her nifty backpack baby carrier for the occasion. Apparently, though, Max hates Heubach and everything in it. Max’s wailing could be heard for kilometers. Then, not more than 10 minutes into the hike, Max needed a new diaper as well as a complete wardrobe change. I don’t know why we bother putting him in diapers at all. For the record, Rosenstein would’ve been a pleasant little hike with beautiful views of the countryside under better circumstances.

After the hike, we went straight home on the first bus that would take us.




Then came Munich because Eric needed the official Oktoberfest experience. Now Max has had it, too, I suppose, though it terrified him. As Max was wheeled inside Löwenbräu’s beer tent, he freaked. The gobs of people, the hammering noise, it was all too much. Elizabeth took Max to the safety of the AirBnB, allowing Eric and I to finish our beers (and Elizabeth’s) before progressing onward to Augustiner-Bräu’s tent. Eric wanted to see more tents, but I am a slight man. Which was fine, because we were about to get the bum’s rush anyway. After 5:00 PM was for people who’d purchased reservations.

Next came castle day, when the four of us braved a day-long escapade to Neuschwanstein—the “Disney” castle in Hohenschangau, Germany. From 8:00 am until 7:00 pm we were out, on buses, in restaurants and palaces. Max was a champ, mostly. Except Neuschwanstein, which was tugging on the last of Max’s patience. Max and I bailed on the guided tour so I could keep him isolated and staring at non-stimulating dark walls.

After Neuschwanstein was Mittenwald. Mittenwald’s hiking trail follows a beautiful river, on walkways floating 200 feet above it, right across the border into Austria. The walkways were see-through. Every 200 meters there was a sign posted on which Gobbie the river sage taught us about nature. Max and Elizabeth weren’t up for the entire hike, but at least they ventured far enough to see the “river of emeralds.” And they joined Eric and me afterwards at Postkeller brewery for dinner. I had the goulash, because you should always order the special.




That was basically it for Eric’s trip. We let him sample 2 more Döner restaurants, and Anestis, which is the gyro place. Eric agrees with Elizabeth that gyros are better than Döner, because they’re both fools. Now Eric is back to his regular life in the US, and I’m basically back to mine. Except hat Elizabeth got me and Max sick. Which is why I worked from home today—because if I sniffle at work, I think they’ll deport me.