Long time gone

Hey, here I am. So much has happened since I last blogged you. I picked Bryn up in Frankfurt, and we traveled up the Romantic Rhein, where each small town is equipped with a castle and a vineyard. On my way to pick her up, I went through the incredibly charming town of Marburg. Its not just the half-timbered buildings that give it the charm, although they create a very cohesive and German feel. But, there is something about cities built on hillsides. Maybe its just fun to explore when you can gain elevation so easily, and look back down on the city. I was doing this very thing when I walked through a pedestrian tunnel. Inside was a traveling guitar player, and a group of people who had banded with him for the night and were singing folk songs. The acoustics of the tunnel created a warm haunting sound, and the single torch lighting the way added to the ambiance.

On the top of the hill was a castle/palace, that now of coarse serves as a museum. I walked around the back, and sneaked off into a small trail that went through the bushes between two buildings of the palace. I discovered a dark staircase going down into the darkness to an unknown destination. Looking into the darkness and thinking about going in was terrifying, and this fueled my curiosity. Then I remembered, I had my head lamp. I turned it on, and it gave my the confidence I needed to take the plunge into the unknown. The stairs went down about 15 feet, to a huge wooden door. I started thinking about the prisoners who were tortured there, or the lepers who where banished there. . . I went up the stairs faster than I went down.

I had borrowed a tent from my friend Jan, and stayed the night at a campground in Marburg, right on the edge of the river Lahn. The camper next to me was a man in his 50's, who was biking from Dortmund to Berlin and back. He had done some impressive cycling trips. Once, he went from Rome to Dortmund in 8 days. Another time, he biked from Budapest to Dortmund. He told me his stories in broken English while we shared some wine.

Its getting late, but one more. I had dinner at this small medieval restaurant in Frankfurt. The owner was the barkeep, his wife was the service wench, and their large sheepdog slept on the floor. They served beer from larg clay mugs, and the owner also made his own mead. They specialized in wild game of Germany, and when they said the saddle of venison was for four or more people, I settled for the loin of a wild-boar. The food was the best I've had in Germany. The brushed steel fork and knife were also made by the owner. I'm pretty sure he was a long lost cousin. (see photo at http://picasaweb.google.com/autorec). When I asked about the bottles with handwritten labels above the bar, he explained that they have a man that distills liquor for them. In fact, in a recent competition, he was awarded 10 gold medals for his different liquors, and was crowned the best distiller in Europe. So, I had to try. I had a shot of the Hazelnut. It warmed my belly, and made for a pleasent walk back to the hotel.