The last time I travelled to Europe, I was fairly convinced that it would be the last time I set foot on the continent of my birth. Of course, this saddened me a great deal, as half of my childhood was spent there (Germany, Italy, and England). But the travel gods have smiled on me and I was able to go to Germany, where my work sent me for some training and to establish some connections between our US facility (here in Janesville) and our division's "mothership" in Oelde, Germany. It was work, but it was excellent. I have a much greater appreciation for the breadth of the work we do now, so, mission accomplished. Of course, we couldn't pass up the opportunity to pay for my wife's flight over. So, while I was working, she did a number of day trips to surrounding cities in the region. And, of course, we took a weeks vacation afterwards, most of it spent in Belgium, but those are reminisces for later blog posts.
On Friday, I packed up a little early and went to the train station in Oelde to catch a train to Köln. The intent was to meet my wife there (she was visiting a different city that Friday - Hamm or Essen, I can't remember which), and we were then to meet a co-worker who I got to know when she worked in the States for several months, along with her fiancée.
What I didn't know, is that the German train system has degraded markedly since I was a kid. The trains most decidedly do NOT arrive on time (unlike Austria) and, as I found on this little "adventure" (it's not an adventure until you're lost), they are sometimes altogether cancelled for reasons that remain a mystery to me. I blame the de-socialization and privatization of the train lines. Yeah, the country has probably saved some money and cut some waste by privatizing, but have they really? The old adage "you get what you pay for" has never been more true.
I got to the train station with plenty of time before arrival, had my ticket and passport ready, and was very excited to get on a European train for the first time in six years. Then, as I was waiting, the announcer said something about my train that I mostly understood (I can understand a little over half of what I hear in German, but I still speak like a three-year-old. Maybe four on a good day.), but wasn't completely clear on, so I looked at the board and saw this:
That's my train on the highlighted column. Notice the lack of a platform number in the last column? Yep, my train was cancelled. So, I did what any person using public transit in a foreign country who only understands half of the langue does: I panicked. First thing, I called my wife, who had dealt with the train system for the past week while I walked to and from work. She was also having train issues. As we were talking, I remembered a local traffic office downstairs, in the "station" (that is far too grandiose of a word to describe the wide hallway with a glass-windowed office and bathrooms that I am confident people have been murdered in), so I went downstairs and, thankfully, they were still open. And the host there spoke excellent English. I'm sure he had dealt with dumb Americans who were in Oelde for work before, so he was well-equipped to recommend another train where I could switch trains in Hamm and catch a connector to Köln, no problem!
Slightly comforted, but still a little wary, I went on my way. Caught the train from Oelde to Hamm, which was standing-room-only because of the cancellations back down the line, but I had no idea which platform to catch my connector on. This occasioned another trip to the help desk, but this time, the English of the person who was trying to help me was about as good as my German, and she was most decidedly NOT used to dumb Americans. Eventually, as I was growing in worry about catching the train, she was able to direct me to platform 10. I sprinted and made it there in time. .
This time the train was even worse. It was a double-decker, which was cool, except I had to stand halfway up a semi-spiral staircase, which, while I'm sure it was very aesthetically pleasing, was not practical to stand on. Thankfully, I had been walking about six or seven miles a day for the first six days we were there, so my legs weren't too bad and my back held up. Above me and to my left was a young couple who were "working out their relationship" the entire ride. She was crying and he was muttering and trying to placate her and she just kept repeating the phrase "Wie schön für dich" ("How nice for you") again and again. I thought maybe this was just a German train culture thing, but when I looked at all the other passengers around me, they looked at them baffled, then looked at me like "Please! Help meeeee!" This was not normal, apparently. But it carried on the entire time of that train ride.
So, when word came over the speakers (and I understood this message clearly) that this train would not be continuing to Köln, but would instead stop in Dusseldorf and then skip Köln to go straight to Bonn, I'm not sure if I was pissed off or relieved. A bit of both, honestly. By this time, I had a three-way texting conversation going on between me, my wife, and my co-worker. Natalie's train to Köln had also been cancelled! Argh! Thankfully, my co-worker, who had just left Dusseldorf to head to Köln with her fiancée by car, told us to stay put at Dusseldorf station and they would come by and pick us up and we would drive to Köln. Oh, did I mention that we were an hour and a half late by that point and had an early train to catch back from Köln to Oelde?
Now, why would we suffer such torture at the hands of the German train system? I had been told by people whose opinions I respect that I must not leave the area without visiting Köln Dom (Cologne cathedral). This was the point of that tortuous pilgrimage. Being in the back seat of our friends' car travelling at 200 Kilometers Per Hour, as the frustration and fear of that awful train trip subsided, I was getting rather excited. Some of that anxious energy had to do with the fact that we would have about an hour to see the cathedral and get dinner before we had to catch our train back to Oelde, but as we rounded a corner and the Köln Dom came into view, I was completely awestruck.
I've seen a lot of cool things in my day because I was blessed to travel the world from birth. I've seen many of the "have you seen?" monuments in Europe and the US (though definitely not all), and some have been more impressive than others. But this was at a whole 'nother level, as they say. This monumental piece of architecture took 600 years to build. Yes, 600 YEARS! Nearly two and a half times as long as the United States has been a nation . . . to build one building! I asked my co-worker's fiancée if he knew how many people had died building that, at which point his face grew grave (he is a very cheerful person) and he just said "Many". I'm certain of that.
And what did they get for all this sacrifice? Only one of the most beautiful and awe-inspiring structures on the planet. We had seen <a href="https://forrestaguirre.blogspot.com/2021/06/vienna-part-i.html">Stefansdom in Vienna</a> on our previous trip, and while that was very impressive, it really paled in comparison to Köln Dom. I took some photos (below), but honestly spent most of the time in reverence just trying to take it all in with my natural eyes. The phrase "pictures don't do it justice" seems trite and over-used, even abused, but in this case, it was clearly correct. I simply could not absorb the magnitude of it all through that stupid little piece of electronically-charged glass in my little phone. I'll include some pictures, but if you have any chance to see this magnificent structure, TAKE IT!
____________________
If you like my writing and want to help my creative endeavors, ko-fi me at https://ko-fi.com/forrestaguirre. Every little bit is seen and appreciated! Thank you!
No comments:
Post a Comment