A Bite of Hamburg, A Taste of Paris

Rathaus, Hamburg (Personal Photo)

One activity I had been hankering to do while in Europe was to see an opera: I’ve been to a ballet, and as part of my coursework I’ve seen several plays, such as En Attendant Godot (Waiting for Godot). While in Berlin, I discovered that Carmen was playing... and I just had to see it, of course! The music was spectacular and I am sure you are all familiar with these two famous songs (Habanera and Votre Toast)... or if you’re not, you will be now! Unfortunately, the surtitles were in German, but the opera itself was sung in French, and between the bits I could catch, the acting and the synopsis I’d skimmed beforehand, I was fine.

The following day, I made a day trip to Hamburg—and no, I didn’t eat any hamburgers there. My friend Susan, who is from Hamburg, gave me some insight on what to see. I strolled through an underground tunnel beneath the river, sampled mulled wine with rum from a vendor, and visited the Alster, a man-made lake in the middle of the city.

When it was finally time to leave Berlin (and head to Paris), I stopped by Saarbrücken to meet a writing friend. En route, however, there was a stopover in Frankfurt, I grabbed McDonald's—the first time I've eaten it since coming to Europe. For 1.50 euros I got a small hot chocolate and a breakfast sandwich. The sandwich alone was 1.80 euros. Does it make sense? No. Did I enjoy the hot chocolate and the thirty cent-savings? Yes!

The Alster, Hamburg (Personal Photo)

Unfortunately, when I did reach Paris, I wasn’t able to stay for long. My exam schedule came out and I had an exam on the first possible day. which meant I had to return to Nice the following evening. My rest that night was less than pleasant; upon entering my hostel room, I discovered alcohol bottles were everywhere... and my (potentially intoxicated) roommates were rather rambunctious.

Before my train the next day, I visited the Sacré-Coeur Basilica, since it seemed rather out of the way and I wanted to make sure I hit it in case I didn’t get around to get when I really saw Paris. The view of Paris from the top of the hill was beautiful, although a guy approached me—doubtlessly pinning me for a tourist because of my backpack—and started tying this bracelet around my wrist, asking me whether I had a boyfriend! I told him I wasn’t interested (in French, and then in English when he didn’t understand me—his accent was perhaps Jamaican?) but he didn’t listen... and then he wanted money for the bracelet afterwards, claiming it to be for a donation to the church! So I replied, “I already said, ‘No Merci!’” and went on my merry way. If I’m going to donate, I’ll do it at the church itself, thank you very much.  

Sacre-Coeur Basilica, Paris (Personal Photo)

Sleeplessness and Sleeping Beauty

Neuschwanstein Castle (Personal Photo)

Having trouble falling asleep is no stranger to me, when dreams refuse to come. Yet this was different. The night before I left for Germany, I experienced insomnia for the first time: too exhausted to force my eyelids open to do anything, but too restless to yield to slumber.
I had arrived home at 1am from celebrating Christmas with a few of my classmates across town. By the time the final tweaks to my luggage were completed, it was 2am. I was due to leave at 4:30am to walk to the train station. It was pouring, but even the rhythmic pounding of the rain did not soothe me. I lay in bed, my head hurting from an unknown force squeezing at my temples, my tongue dry no matter how much water I drank, and my thoughts racing, fretting, whipping around and around like an out-of-control carousel. 

Yes, insomnia. 

Hohenschwangau Castle (Personal Photo)

All I could think about was the trip. If I was this tired now, how would I fare after twenty-four hours of train travel (including a night of poor sleep on the train)? My stomach, too, writhed, as if the serpents of my thoughts had snaked down there and were hissing at the butterflies that were already having trouble settling down. My throat tightened as if an anaconda were wrapped around my neck, my chest.  
Only when I booked a last-minute flight to Germany a mere ten minutes before I was to depart did I finally relax enough to sleep. It was not cheap, but it was worth my sanity. Understand that even now, I’m not *quite* sure why I thought my initial train ride was a good idea. The TGV trains were booked solid, and I supposed I had set in my mind that I was to take the train. 

Swansee Lake (Personal Photo)

In my parent’s living room is are several pictures, blown-up photographs my parents took long ago. Two of them are castles, and one of them is Neuschwanstein Castle (a.k.a. The Sleeping Beauty castle) in Germany. The other, I believe, is somewhere in Scotland. It was my goal to see this castle, which has for so long been but a souvenir of my parents’ adventures in Europe and not my own.  

From Munich, I travelled by train with my roommates to Fussen. There is a Bavarian pass which allows groups of up to four people to travel for incredibly low rate (22 euros + 4 euros a person). My share (about 10 euros) of the pass paid for my train fare as well as the bus to the village where Neuschwanstein Castle is situated. The countryside in Germany is stunning, the most beautiful I have seen so far in my travels by train. I sighed when snow-capped mountains came into view. I have missed snow, for in Nice it merely rains instead. 

Neuschwanstein Castle (Personal Photo)

The buses to the castle were not operating due to “snow and ice” (although the snow was but a dusting). The walk up the mountain, advertised as forty minutes, took my swift legs a mere twenty. With time to kill before my tour, I opted to visit the bridge for my postcard picture shot. 
The route was closed, but as other tourists were hopping the fence (children in tow), I did, too. It was so easy to circumvent it, as if it invited you to ignore it. As I rounded the bend, that’s when the route became icy. My running shoes have poor tread from my walking-heavy travels, but I fared better than most. For all my clumsiness for bumping into things, I have an incredible sense of balance, and I know how to place my feet.  

Behold the view!

Neuschwanstein Castle (Personal Photo)

 That night, I feasted in a Bavarian restaurant, where I asked the waitress for a suggestion (as the wiener schnitzel was not local cuisine). Before I knew it, I had an enormous plate of meat: pork knuckle, duck, sausages all surrounding a dumpling and slathered with gravy. Germany has the best food so far, hands down. After so much bread/pasta with only a hint of meat, I was delighted at being able to dig in to a hearty carnivore’s paradise.