Posted on 08/15/2005 10:50:26 AM PDT by NYer
Monday, August 15th:
On on a boat on the Rhine -- the very boat that B16 will be taking to arrive in Koeln this week. St. Goarshausen was a beautiful and charming town. Very, very little English was spoken here.
I met up with some of the Magis group when I got on the local train in Frankfurt that goes to St. Goarschausen. I would have never made the train at all if it weren't for the kindness of a German lady who, much like the kind Italian lady, helped me without even being asked. As I mentioned, I was probably the only American on the train. As we approached Franfurt, this kind lady realized that I looked a little lost. She said -- by way of explanation to me -- that the next stop was Frankfurt. As we chatted, I explain to her where I was going and she proceeded to explain to me how I get to the local trains. By the time we got to the station, my train was leaving in ten minutes. She ran over to the platform with me and made sure that they held the train for me to get on. We shook hands and se told me to be sure to look out the window and enjoy the view of the Rhine. What a dear lady.
As I mentioned, I met up on that very train with another group with the magis project who were also making their way to the Loreley. I chatted with four French and Portugese students who spent the prior week working in a soup kitchen in Salzburg.
Along the way, the Spaniards showed up and made a grand (read: loud and boisterous) entrance. You should have seen the expression on the French guy's face. Priceless. Another great moment: as we watched.the beautiful Rhine through the train window, the French guy said, "this is one of the nice areas of Germany." Of course, he meant nothing by it, but I teased him saying, "oh no, the French and the German's are still fighting over the Rhineland." They laughed so hard, they cried! He was a nice guy. And I was intrigued to listen to him speak about France and the many weakness he willingly acknowledged.
When we reached St. Goarschausen, everyone loaded their packs on their back and headed out toward the big rock. The French pilgrims (a lot of strong looking young men) unfurled the French flag and started singing the Marseilles (sp?). Oh how I wish you could have seen the expression on the face of the middle aged German guy who was eating lunch in patio area of a restaurant. It was like the French were invading the Rhine! I don't speak German, but I'd didn't need to to understand that he was pissed off. It was the first (and probably last) time I saw a German gesticulating as he spoke.
I met up with my dear nephew up at the Loreley. Big hugs were exchanged! I decided to bag the camping trip part. Instead I went to a delightful bed and breakfast (well, delightful aside from the Frau Bruller (sp?); I keep expecting to hear a neighing horse every time her name is spoken.) It rained something fierce the last few days.
I met up with the magis crowd this afternoon as we boarded the boat for the Rhine. We've traveling down (or is it up?) the Rhine for the past five hours. I've been getting to know the other pilgrims. Leave it to my great nephew to find the coolest and most rock solid orthodox (with a small "o") young Catholics. I'm seating with this great group of young Catholics at a table sharing an absurd dinner of raw hotdogs, gummie bears, an apple, a single piece of bread, and some disgusting spam-like German pork spread. One of the pilgrims pulled out a guitar and we've been singing Spanish songs for the past hour. One thing I really love about Europeans is their fondness for group singing.
I'm going back to enjoying the castles we're passing. We're negotiating what events to attend. We're' also laughing at some of the ridiculous quasi-new age crap that's listed. Who is in charge of this stuff?
They just announced that we will be arriving in ten minutes, so I'm going to sign off for now.
Pray that I get assigned to the castle or the brewery (as opposed to the gym floor).
Participants from Brazil arrive for World Youth Day in Cologne August 15, 2005. The World Youth Day takes place in the western German city from August 16 until August 21, 2005. REUTERS/Arnd Wiegmann
Pilgrims from Angola arrive in Cologne for the start of the Catholic World Youth Days. Thousands of young Catholics were arriving in Germany on the eve of the World Youth Day jamboree which Pope Benedict XVI hopes will create 'a new wave of faith among young people'.(AFP/DDP/Torsten Solz)
Pilgrims from Angola arrive in Cologne for the start of the Catholic World Youth Days. Thousands of young Catholics were arriving in Germany on the eve of the World Youth Day jamboree which Pope Benedict XVI hopes will create 'a new wave of faith among young people'.(AFP/DDP/Torsten Solz)
Great Stuff!!
Thanks for the pix.
Universal, Indeed!!!
I love the habit of many African entrepreneurs of printing up fabrics to commemorate EVERYTHING.
I can just imagine the poor German guy doing a slow boil re the young Frenchmen. ("The past is not dead - it is not even past.") Hopefully they'll be able to bury the hatchet for the duration . . .
Excellent. Thanks for all your efforts to allow us to participate in this extremely colorful trip!
and my favorite ... keep wondering if GG was on the same train with these kids
Young pilgrims from Italy wave in front of their train which transport them from Cologne Airport train station, to the city centre in Cologne Germany, Monday, Aug. 15, 2005. Pope Benedict XVI invited all young people to attend the upcoming World Youth Day events in Cologne, calling it a 'festival of faith, joy and brother- and sisterhood,' in a greeting published Monday.(AP Photo/Michael Sohn)
O ne Zot! "Prepares her bed"? Did they at least give her a cordless electric screwdriver?
I've spoken German since junior high school, and lived there, and "blücher" doesn't mean glue. The word I've always used is "Leim" or "Klebestoff" - sticky stuff. Blücher is just a German surname (you may remember a fellow of that name who was a general for the Allies in the Napoleonic Wars "Oh that night or Blücher would come."
It makes a nice story though, I guess. It's funny enough without, especially when Igor leans back around the door and whispers, "Blücher!"
Ich spreche nicht Deutsches, aber ich dachte, daß Kleber Blucher war.
I don't speak or write German. I speak Babelfish and this is supposed to mean "I don't speak German, but I heard that Blucher meant glue." Since "Kleber" is the root in this expression, I guess you are right. [I will never trust American Movie Classics again when they do an "extended version" of a DVD. That is where I heard it if I recall correctly.]
"Young Frankenstein" is an incredibly funny movie with far too many delicious moments to recount. The cast was perfect; poor Marty Feldman would not have his thyroid condition attended to since his violent "exopthalmos" was a characteristic of his zany comedic look.
I am amazed at you Mother! You are a true polyglot. By my count you must speak at least 6 languages. I know we've had discussions about Aramaic, Greek, Latin and now German and I'm sure others were mentioned. Brava!
Frank
German is the only language (other than English) that I'm reasonably fluent in speaking and writing. I read and write Latin OK, classical Greek fairly well (with a crib), and I can limp along in Scots Gaelic. I only took one semester of Old Norse, just for fun, so I can't say I really speak it. Like the way it sounds though!
(This is what happens to you when you're a liberal arts student, can't decide on a major between Classics, History, or German, and have some credit hours left over your senior year!)
---(This is what happens to you when you're a liberal arts student, can't decide on a major between Classics, History, or German, and have some credit hours left over your senior year!)---
Interesting. I spent that year in the pool hall between classes and the local pub!
F
. . . and I lost interest in drinking when I saw how stupid some of my friends acted when they were drunk . . . not to mention one guy I knew got sick on my good shoes . . .
. . . yeah, I was a nerd!
Tell Ernie that my friends and I are still looking for him since he swindled our money playing nine ball. I remember him well: slight guy, reddish hair, ruddy face who drove a Z-28.
Frank
My lips are sealed!
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