Monday, September 29, 2003
Munich, Germany
Goodbye, Europe!
So, it's Munich to the Big Apple. And that's another big notch closer to the Rocky's... Denver that is. My flight to NYC has been airborn for a little over 4 hours now... HALF WAY TO THE USA! ... I just wish I were on it.
Hello, Europe... *sigh*
Half an hour before my flight was scheduled to depart, I was happily strolling out of the amazing Deutches Museum downtown. It was just before 3:00pm that I decided to consult my tickets again while waiting for the number 18 tram that would unite me with my big backpack waiting patiently in a locker at the central train station. "Hmmmm..." I thought, "I'm pretty sure that the '15.35' in the 'departure time' section means 3:35pm, not 5:35pm." I sat on the tram for a few minutes and mulled this over. The conclusion was invariably the same: 15 minus 12 is 3.
I tested this theory a few more times until I reached central station where I promply purchased an international calling card. The lockered bag and express train to the airport moved a few notches down the to-do list.
My friend John-Paul, who is hosting the NYC leg of my "'Round the World Adventure," was very understanding. This is most likely because I described this incident more like "bad airline, bad!", and less like "stupid Andy, stupid!"
The nice lady at the Lufthansa help line explained that "vith a vround the verld teeket, you cun just change veeth a deefernt flight." However, there were no other flights that evening, none the next morning, the same flight the following afternoon was fully booked, etc. We settled on a just-in-the-nick-of-time middle-seat confirmation for the flight 48 hours from then, coupled with a are-you-joking spot on the waiting list for a flight the next day. After an uncomfortable pause where she or I should have ended the call, she said, "...oh... thees is a sad thing for you I think, yes?"
Was it possible that she knew I had arrived earlier that morning from a 14 hour train ride because I couldn't change my ticket to leave from Copenhagen? Could she tell that I am quite frightend by the crazed Oktoberfest women running around Munich in beer stained leiderhossen? Somehow she could sense that I had not considered seeing Munich as much more than a pre-NYC cappucino and croissant.
Those things may be true, but is it really a "sad thing?" Naw. All sorts of options (but New York) are now available. After 8 months of this travel game I'm getting pretty resourceful and am excited when something unplanned comes along. In this case, 48 new European hours.
After the phone card's credits ended my calls for me, I knew exactly where to spend that first hour: the central station Burger King. The last time I ate anything substantial was just before leaving Copenhagen (knowing that I'd get all the free "food" I wanted on my flight to the USA). Being as I had 36 cents in my pocket, I went to the cash machine and treated myself to 60 Euros, more than enough for two days. Now some large fries, coke, and a whopper (without catsup) were in my future. Things were working out just fine. Being as I was eating in the huge lobby of Munich's central train station I checked the rather ancient looking departure board. You see, because of some special supper-traveller skills (read: blind luck + lazy ticket-checkers) I am left with two extra days on my Eurail Travel Pass. Why not use them?
I've always wanted to see Berlin. Oops, the train just left. The frinedly conductor guy who shoved them off said that the next one to the Capital would be in 6 hours, and after hearing about my situation, added that "Berlin is not worth the trouble." Hmmmm. Ok.
A train to Stuttgart was leaving in 20 minutes. I met a fun kid who lives there, but that was like a month ago. I called him. Ulrich was studying all week but could plan something fun for the weekend. Just as I finished explaining why that wasn't really possible, the new phone card ended our call. Then I noticed the train had left track 11 anyway.
Ok, Vienna? The departures board kept spinning up new destinations (making a cool whirring and slapping sound) but it didn't go much more than an hour into the future. The tile-based 1960s departures flip chart was neat, but I decided that I needed something more comprehensive.
I went to get a full listing of departures from the info desk around the corner. The information agent quoted the times robotically, "Ween [Vienna], at 1725 to arrive at 2205 or the overnight vagon at 2344 to arrive at 600 veeth a supplementary cost if you choose a sleeping shelf in a couchette or full cabin veeth a bed." I swear she didn't look at the computer screen once. Had she been here long enough to memorize Munich's train timetables to the minute? Personally, I prefer the cooky Oktoberfestians.
Luckily, I got some etherial advice. The voice of Suzie O'Connor (the "trendy little lady from Longueville" as she's known) popped into my brain. In the image she was cradling her coffee cup and smiling while explaining why Prague is the best place on the planet (apart from the Sydney harbour area of course).
Snapped back into reality (infront of an even more perturbed she-bot) by the dramatic shuffling of the overly time-sensitive German school kid behind me. I defended my rightful place in line, I was ready now.
As promissed, within two minutes the transaction was finished. In only a few hours, courtesy of the Czeck Republic, I'll get somthing I haven't got in a long time: another stamp in my passport. Exciting. :)
Goodbye, Europe!
So, it's Munich to the Big Apple. And that's another big notch closer to the Rocky's... Denver that is. My flight to NYC has been airborn for a little over 4 hours now... HALF WAY TO THE USA! ... I just wish I were on it.
Hello, Europe... *sigh*
Half an hour before my flight was scheduled to depart, I was happily strolling out of the amazing Deutches Museum downtown. It was just before 3:00pm that I decided to consult my tickets again while waiting for the number 18 tram that would unite me with my big backpack waiting patiently in a locker at the central train station. "Hmmmm..." I thought, "I'm pretty sure that the '15.35' in the 'departure time' section means 3:35pm, not 5:35pm." I sat on the tram for a few minutes and mulled this over. The conclusion was invariably the same: 15 minus 12 is 3.
I tested this theory a few more times until I reached central station where I promply purchased an international calling card. The lockered bag and express train to the airport moved a few notches down the to-do list.
My friend John-Paul, who is hosting the NYC leg of my "'Round the World Adventure," was very understanding. This is most likely because I described this incident more like "bad airline, bad!", and less like "stupid Andy, stupid!"
The nice lady at the Lufthansa help line explained that "vith a vround the verld teeket, you cun just change veeth a deefernt flight." However, there were no other flights that evening, none the next morning, the same flight the following afternoon was fully booked, etc. We settled on a just-in-the-nick-of-time middle-seat confirmation for the flight 48 hours from then, coupled with a are-you-joking spot on the waiting list for a flight the next day. After an uncomfortable pause where she or I should have ended the call, she said, "...oh... thees is a sad thing for you I think, yes?"
Was it possible that she knew I had arrived earlier that morning from a 14 hour train ride because I couldn't change my ticket to leave from Copenhagen? Could she tell that I am quite frightend by the crazed Oktoberfest women running around Munich in beer stained leiderhossen? Somehow she could sense that I had not considered seeing Munich as much more than a pre-NYC cappucino and croissant.
Those things may be true, but is it really a "sad thing?" Naw. All sorts of options (but New York) are now available. After 8 months of this travel game I'm getting pretty resourceful and am excited when something unplanned comes along. In this case, 48 new European hours.
After the phone card's credits ended my calls for me, I knew exactly where to spend that first hour: the central station Burger King. The last time I ate anything substantial was just before leaving Copenhagen (knowing that I'd get all the free "food" I wanted on my flight to the USA). Being as I had 36 cents in my pocket, I went to the cash machine and treated myself to 60 Euros, more than enough for two days. Now some large fries, coke, and a whopper (without catsup) were in my future. Things were working out just fine. Being as I was eating in the huge lobby of Munich's central train station I checked the rather ancient looking departure board. You see, because of some special supper-traveller skills (read: blind luck + lazy ticket-checkers) I am left with two extra days on my Eurail Travel Pass. Why not use them?
I've always wanted to see Berlin. Oops, the train just left. The frinedly conductor guy who shoved them off said that the next one to the Capital would be in 6 hours, and after hearing about my situation, added that "Berlin is not worth the trouble." Hmmmm. Ok.
A train to Stuttgart was leaving in 20 minutes. I met a fun kid who lives there, but that was like a month ago. I called him. Ulrich was studying all week but could plan something fun for the weekend. Just as I finished explaining why that wasn't really possible, the new phone card ended our call. Then I noticed the train had left track 11 anyway.
Ok, Vienna? The departures board kept spinning up new destinations (making a cool whirring and slapping sound) but it didn't go much more than an hour into the future. The tile-based 1960s departures flip chart was neat, but I decided that I needed something more comprehensive.
I went to get a full listing of departures from the info desk around the corner. The information agent quoted the times robotically, "Ween [Vienna], at 1725 to arrive at 2205 or the overnight vagon at 2344 to arrive at 600 veeth a supplementary cost if you choose a sleeping shelf in a couchette or full cabin veeth a bed." I swear she didn't look at the computer screen once. Had she been here long enough to memorize Munich's train timetables to the minute? Personally, I prefer the cooky Oktoberfestians.
Luckily, I got some etherial advice. The voice of Suzie O'Connor (the "trendy little lady from Longueville" as she's known) popped into my brain. In the image she was cradling her coffee cup and smiling while explaining why Prague is the best place on the planet (apart from the Sydney harbour area of course).
Snapped back into reality (infront of an even more perturbed she-bot) by the dramatic shuffling of the overly time-sensitive German school kid behind me. I defended my rightful place in line, I was ready now.
As promissed, within two minutes the transaction was finished. In only a few hours, courtesy of the Czeck Republic, I'll get somthing I haven't got in a long time: another stamp in my passport. Exciting. :)
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