A Maturing Sense of Time

I realized something when I was on the train home from Mainz yesterday, and it's something that I believe is happening to all recent college graduates, but something even intensified by living abroad--and that's a changing sense of time.  In college, everything was fast-paced and everyone was always busy and had a million things to do, but by the time senior year rolled around, I saw all of my friends basically at least once a day, whether it was in class, in my room, in their room, in the library, in the Rat, at band rehearsal, at work, or heading out to the Mods, MAs, or downtown.  If I didn't see one of my close friends for two or three days, it was a big deal.  It was something to be talked about.  It was a point of worry, sometimes even contention.

Boy, have things changed.  My closest friends that are also in Europe- if I see them once every few months, that's a big deal.  I've visited Paul in Hamburg three times now, and have visited Katherine four times and she's visited me once and then we saw each other at the Berlin conference, and Mollie and I saw each other for a total of two and a half weeks in March.  These are considered major accomplishments.  Now yes, I realize the distance thing is the main factor holding back more frequent visits-- but this is why I refer to a maturing sense of time.  Because we come to cherish these infrequent visits for all that they're worth because we can no longer take for granted that we'll all see each other in our apartments, at work, at rehearsal, walking across the quad, and no longer are our friends a walk across campus.

Besides friends that are cities and countries away, I've got a number of other assistant friends in my own city of Münster, and seeing them once every couple weeks is perfectly sufficient.  There may be a greeting of, "Oh wow, I haven't seen you in weeks!"  But unlike in college, this was never a point about which to quarrel or dwell on, rather just a simple fact of life.  I remember when I was younger and always thinking it so strange that my mom only saw her supposedly "good friends" every few weeks or so, or how she could have so many friends that she only saw a couple times per year.  When I went away to college almost five years ago, obviously I lost a lot of high school friends because we just stopped keeping in touch, but those with whom I stayed close, I only see them a few times a year (and this year even less), but that doesn't make them any less close to me.  I guess this is all part of growing up and as I said, maturing. 

Anyways, food for thought.

So, for those who don't know- I went to Heidelberg this past weekend to run the half marathon!  I ran with Katherine and two other ETAs who live near her, Selma and Heidi.  Needless to say, Katherine and I were not at all looking forward to this race.  We had been training quite a bit...until we had three straight weeks of vacation and traveling one month before the race.  I was supposed to run a half at the end of February but had to cancel that because I ended up going home that week.  Before that, I was up to eleven miles in training, but once I got back, it was MSM and non-stop traveling, so I never got back up past eight miles.  Fortunately, thirteen miles wasn't something too daunting, since technically with marathon training last year, I had already run at least five half marathons, but not more than eleven miles in the last year.

Anywaysssss, arrived in Mainz on Friday and Katherine and I ended up getting a bit drunk by accident on Friday night and woke up very hungover on Saturday- it was raining all weekend and we were exhausted by the time we got to Heidelberg on Saturday evening.  We crashed at our friend Eric's place and I kept waking myself up when I turned over on the air mattress and kept hoping that the race was done with, but it wasn't--and when we awoke at 7am by my alarm, I was actually dreading it.  I had only brought shorts and it was wicked cold.

Made our way to Uni Platz, fortunately it wasn't raining.  Found Selma and Heidi, did a bit of stretching, grabbed our numbers, and headed to the start line.  Started at a nice pace, and the weather actually ended up being PERFECT for a race-- just about 50 degrees and overcast.  I won't bore you all with race details, but the race was HILLY! Like WOW!  But it ran through the Altstadt and then through Neuenheim and then up the Philosophenweg and headed through the hills across the river into Schlierbach and then up to the castle and finally back down, ending back at Uni Platz.  The trail running was quite peaceful, but Heidelberg and its surroundings are so beautiful that it was hard not to stop and just bask in the scenery.  The hills were wicked tough, but we all finished!  I nearly didn't, because about 300meters from the finish line after 2km of downhill running, back onto the cobblestone of Hauptstrasse, I completely wiped out and literally rolled over, but I had fallen on my knee and had to run/limp to the finish line.  If it had happened any earlier in the race, I might not have been able to make it to the end. 

About halfway through- you can see the Alte Brücke way in the distance

"Free Beer for Runners"...this was around mile 9 or 10. Only in Germany.

#BostonStrong..and showing off my lovely wounded knee

Fulbrighters conquer the hills of Heidelberg!

As I said...the hills were no joke.

But the race itself was great-- after so much dread, it ended up being a great experience!  I ran Boston over a year ago now and I've since forgotten how exciting race day is and the whole atmosphere and how fun it is to be surrounded by thousands of other crazy people like yourself whose idea of fun is putting their body into a ton of pain!  It got my so psyched to continue racing and to now work on improving my times--hopefully get another half in this summer and then maybe the BAA Half in October and definitely the Country Music Marathon in Nashville next April!

Speaking of Nashville... it's official, I've decided I'll be going to Vanderbilt in the Fall.  A couple months ago, after Berlin, I wrote about perhaps wanting to stay, and that was more than just a fleeting idea-- I actually started applying to three programs, emailing the coordinators, securing my transcripts and diplomas from BC, writing essays, but in the last few days, my mind has moved back the other way and I just feel in my gut that this is the right move for me. 

My life abroad and in Germany is just way too unstable and volatile and lacks structure.  I know that by doing a Masters Program, I'd have much more structure than I do now or did when I was abroad, but in general, I can't continue this emotional roller coaster for another two years.  There are some crazy highs but the there are also some devastating lows.  I know for a fact that I can be happy at Vandy and in Nashville and that I want to teach, but there's too great a risk that I won't be happy if I stay in Germany, and looking back at how depressed I was this past winter, I just can't knowingly and voluntarily place myself in such a situation.  I know myself, and I don't like change and I do like structure and being busy and knowing how to function in a society by expressing myself, and after this crazily un-busy year, I want next year to be busy with learning and teaching and training for more races and watching TV online legally! (lol.)

So yes, I'm moving to Nashville in just a few months- southern Sabrina is becoming a reality after all these years!  I love Germany, and I love so much certain aspects of my life here--the independence, the bread, the bakeries, the lifestyle (sometimes), the attractiveness of the population (yeah, I said it), but I think more than my fondness for all of that is my fondness of the things that I miss in America.  Although I will say that I'm in a more stable state than I was several months ago when I was hating Germany and everything about it and the people and the culture and Europe in general.  And I'm in a better state than I was a few weeks ago when I started having anxiety about starting my degree at Vandy.  I've got an incredible two years ahead of me, that like my Fulbright, will open so many doors for me, and that's not something I should be afraid of, but rather, be excited about.  I've now got exactly two months left, and I'll make the most of them, and Germany and I will absolutely be leaving on good terms.  It won't be a messy breakup but I won't be getting dumped; rather, it will be a mutual parting, and we will always remain friends, saying Auf Wiedersehen with the hope of many more visits planted in our futures.

(But let's get real...we know I'm reaaaallly only returning for gastronomical reasons)

Sam Adams Seasonal

...and Mexican food

Love that dirty water, oh Boston you're my home

I awoke yesterday morning quite late because I didn't have to work...just before 11.  That meant it was 5am back in Boston- I thought to myself how on this same Monday last year, I was waking up full of nerves, putting on my Campus School Marathon jersey, preparing some snacks, and heading down the hill from Gabelli to meet Steph outside of Conte, and then heading to the Campus School to meet the other 100+ runners, so we could hop on a school bus and drive the 21 miles to Hopkinton, to run the Boston Marathon. It was an experience I will never ever forget, although some of my memories from the day are now a bit hazy because of all that excitement and exhaustion that came with the event.

I awoke yesterday morning a lot more emotional than I had expected.  I knew it was Marathon Monday, and I was excited for all the runners and everyone at BC ready to drink and party and cheer on at Mile 21, but as the day went on, I more and more longed to be back in my city.  I couldn't get a live stream of the race when the elites were running, so I had to rely on following the updates via Twitter, rapidly texting my mom about the Kenyans and Ethiopians who always win, and the Americans who were fighting for a medal.  My Facebook feed blew up as the afternoon carried on, as the partying in the mods began, as people started posting their pictures of their friends, of the runners, of the race, everywhere from Newton to Brookline to downtown Copley.  I was even feeling a pang of jealousy that the runners this year got to experience pleasant and ideal running conditions, whereas last year, we faced 85-90 degree temperatures and a scorching sun for a 26.2 mile run.

Those pangs of jealously quickly disappeared though when sometime in the evening I saw the first Twitter notification about bombs going off at the finish line.  Rae was over and we were watching "The Voice"...I made a comment about what I had just read, but didn't realize how serious the blasts had been.  For the next hour, I witnessed Twitter, Facebook, and the news sites blow up with news of the two bombings and those injured.  I eventually found a live stream of the finish line, and was in tears when I saw the deserted and barren finish line-- the Marathon had been stopped, the runners had been rerouted, and the finish line area at Copley Plaza had been evacuated.

I was no longer jealous of runners and of the people at BC, but instead, so completely sad and hurt for them, for everyone in the city, for everyone who had trained for months and months and months, in some cases even years to qualify for Boston, for friends and families who had traveled long distances to specate, and for this city that I love so incredibly much.  If you know anyone who's lived in Boston for at least a few years, they'll tell you that Patriots Day, more commonly known as Marathon Monday, is the biggest day of the year- it's a point of pride and celebration for Boston and Massachussetts, because it's the only place in the country that has this holiday.  The Boston Marathon is arguably the most famous in the country, if not the world, and is one of the most strenuous courses with all its inclines and declines, but it's a course for which every serious runner strives, and part of that is due to the absolutely amazing crowds that turn out to watch throughout the entire course.  I still remember hitting the halfway point last year running by Wellesley College and bursting into tears because the girls screaming for us and cheering for us were just so amazing.  When I hit BC at Mile 21, my friends found me and hopped past the tape and ran with me for nearly half a mile, filming, taking photos, and screaming at me to keep going- I was so overwhelmed with happiness that I can't even remember the moment clearly.

This is what the Boston Marathon is for so many people.  A culmination of blood, sweat, and tears.  Nearly four months of sacrificing a lot of fun times in order to wake up early to run in the freezing cold and ice and snow that make up Boston winters- all for a three or four or five hours run (or two if you're an elite) leading you to the center of the greatest city in the world.

I just can't even begin to fathom how the runners this year are feeling.  I keep trying to think back to how I would be feeling if this had happened last year- my mom and Steph's family were waiting for us at the finish line- I crossed that finish line... These runners must feel relief and are thanking God that they're safe, but then these feelings must be mixed with anxiety and fear and anger.  Unless you've trained for a marathon and suffered through that 26.2, it's hard to understand the mentality behind the marathon.  So many say that a full marathon is more mental than it is physical, and for recreational runners like myself, it's completely true.  If you put in the training, your body can do it-- I learned that during training last year--your body can literally do anything.  It's the mental part that is the hardest.  Forcing yourself to continue when you're in pain and bored and frustrated.  I would just be so incredibly angry if this had happened during my first marathon.

Mike Wise writes for the Post and has ran four marathons himself and was able to more articulately capture such feelings: "For so many who ran, Boston on Monday afternoon was less about a race and more about a platform for so many courageous people to prove to themselves that life does go on, that closure is possible. And to violently intrude on that kind of healing, that perseverance — to layer on tragedy and grief and heartbreak on the day so many watching and running were trying to move past it — is so wrong and personally destructive it’s almost unspeakable. No other major sporting event in the world can the novice line up next to the elite and try to spiritually climb their own Mount Everest. They all have a story of how they used their legs and their heart to conquer, overcome and get to a place of serenity or competitive satisfaction that finishing the oldest and greatest of marathons was supposed to bring them. To hear, “The race is over. There is no alternate finish,” announced at about 4:06 p.m., hurt so much deeper than pain of running 26.2 miles ever could"

(full article here)


What happened yesterday was just absolutely disgusting.  Unfortunately, I'm still so shaken up over it, am still tearing up every few hours when I think about it, that I'm just not able to articulate my thoughts as well as I usually am.  There are however, many articles and statuses and tweets surfacing that capture my sentiments and the sentiments of a, to put it in Obama's words, strong and resilient city.  There's a reason that Boston is known for a rougher crowd and movies like The Departed and The Town.  I just came across this Facebook status and this guy is completely right:

"There are few places in the world that people are prouder to be from than Boston. When you look at how this city, this small town, has handled tragedy you can understand why.... The Boston Marathon is a pure event. It ranks with the Super Bowl, the Olympics, and the Tour de France as one of the most prestigious and renowned sporting events in the world. But unlike the other events it isn’t exclusive. Anyone can enter. Your neighbor, your co-worker, your best friend, your son, your daughter, your significant other. For one day every April, with dedication and hard work, an amateur athlete can ascend to the elite world stage. For one day every April, from Hopkinton to Boston - friends, family and strangers proudly cheer on amateurs with the same passion as any Red Sox player in the bottom of the 9th. It’s magical. It’s perfect...This town has been changed forever today...A year from now the windows in Marathon Sports will have been replaced, but for 26.2 miles, an unprecedented fear will remain. The toll of the day is still unknown, and it is still unclear where to direct our collective anger. I know this town. And I know that in the days to come with the stories of horrific pain, there will also be stories of tremendous bravery. To whoever is responsible, it’s not a good place to have the entire city of Boston looking for you. We have a wicked long memory and are very protective of our own."

What this guy said about the event is spot on.  A marathon is such a collective event.  500,000 spectators line the streets to cheer on 26,000 runners.  For one day, it doesn't matter who you are, you are connected with all of your neighbors.  As a spectator, it's impossible not to be inspired by the runners, and as a runner, it's impossible not to be thankful of the spectators.  A professor at BC wrote a letter to the editor yesterday putting this into perfect words: 

"One of the most common ways terrorist attacks backfire is when the communities they aim to frighten respond not with fear or infighting, but rather with resilience and resolve to strengthen their social bonds beyond what they were before the attack. The blood, sweat, and tears put in by tens of thousands of runners, volunteers, and first responders.  The hundreds of thousands lining up to cheer themselves hoarse for people they don't even know regardless of their ethnicity, religion, or political party."

(full article here) 

And Ezra Klein wrote about the events yesterday as well saying, "The finish line at a marathon is a small marvel of fellowship.  Everyone is there to celebrate how much stronger the runners are than they ever thought they could be.  Total strangers line up alongside the route to yell encouragement.  Bands play.  Some hand out cups of water, Gatorade, even beer.  Others dress up in costume to make the runners smile.  The fact that other people can run this far makes us believe we can run that far.  It's a happy thought.  It makes us all feel a little bit stronger."

And as Kathrine Switzer, the first female runner of the Boston Marathon, said, "If you are losing faith in human nature, go out and watch a marathon."

Klein goes on... "If you are losing faith in human nature today, watch what happens in the aftermath of the attack on the Boston Marathon...This won't be the last time we gather at the finish line to marvel how much more we can take than anyone ever thought possible."

(full article here)

 
Marathon Monday will still be the best day of the year in Boston.  It will still be inspiring and a celebratory day, but it's true- the day has now been forever tainted by these disgusting and inhumane actions.  What was once one of the last remaining pure events will now be an event marked by and remembered, not for the overcoming of obstacles and the accomplishments of the body and spirit, but by tragedy and violence, and even if people try to put this aside, the heightened security measures that will inevitably happen from here on out for this event will absolutely taint what should be a simplistic and pure feat of the human body and spirit.

This is already a week in America marked by tragedy- the Oklahoma City bombings that occurred April 19, 1995 and the Virginia Tech Massacre which happened April 16, 2007...and now the Boston Marathon bombings on April 15, 2013 will be added to that list.  I'm from Virginia and was in high school in Virginia on the day of the Tech shooting, so many people near and dear to me as well as myself are remembering that day today.  Last year, after a two month search led to a tragic ending, my friend Franco Garcia's funeral was on April 18, so I will be remembering that as well on Thursday.  It's a tough week, but with these tragic events I have witnessed amazing humanity and community and strangers coming together in love and friendship and support.  The Boston marathon route runs right through BC's campus at mile 21, and I know that along with all Bostonians, the BC community feels a personal connection to everything that has happened and the love and support outpouring already is incredible.  

When I woke up yesterday morning, I was sad and unhappy that I wasn't in Boston.  By the time evening hit and I heard the news, I was upset and felt helpless that I couldn't be in the city where my heart lies after this terrible incident.  If this was a terrorist action and was meant to instill fear in people, especially runners, I think it had the opposite effect and will inspire even more people to run marathons and even more runners to continue running marathons.  Finishing Boston last April was the most fulfilling feat I've ever accomplished and I've been telling myself that I want to train to do my second marathon next Spring.  After yesterday's events, I am in no way dissuaded, but am determined more than ever before.  

Celebrating reaching Mile 22 last year, right next to the Res, long after my name had sweated off my jersey

0.2 miles away from the finish line on April 16, 2012

The finish line on April 15, 2013

At least we had clean underwear!

The final installment of MSM happened when I went down to Montpellier (on the southern coast...not bad, eh?) to spend the week with Mollie during my spring break.  Getting down there was kind of a nightmare actually... in order to get the cheap RyanAir flight, I had to leave Berlin on Thursday morning (I was sad not to get to spend the weekend there with some of my good friends) and then got back to Münster for about six hours, which gave me just enough time to hit the gym, grab some snacks from the grocery store, and repack my bag for my trip!  Left my apartment around 9:45pm to catch the bus to the train station, my train left at 10pm, and got into Cologne around 12:30am.  Then I had to wait until 2:15am for the shuttle bus to take me to Hahn airport. If this were the summer it would not have been so bad, but even at the end of March, it was still 25 degrees in Germany and the hardest part of my journey was honestly staying sane while I was freezing in the Cologne station.  I'm just so sick of the cold.  SO SICK.  It has seeped into my veins and I think sitting in the steam room at the gym a couple times a week is the only thing stopping my skin from cracking off.  I know I complained a lot last summer about how hot and humid it got and the fact that our house on Foster Street had no AC and for days at a time we were melting and went to bars just to get a reprieve, but this is so much worse.  I've always hated the cold more anyways.  I just hate wearing pants!!

Haha okay, but to continue.  Somehow made it through those couple hours, boarded an equally freezing bus and drifted in and out of slumber during the three hour drive and finally arrived at Hahn Airport around 5am.  Of course it was snowing.  Ran from the bus to the airport, checked in, ate a bit, and finally boarded the again equally freezing plane.  Curled up in a window sleep and woke up as we were landing.  Deplaned and when I stepped outside it was the most amazing feeling to step into fresh air and not feel instantly cold!  It was actually quite cool and grey in Montpellier that whole Friday but I did not mind at all, and that's what I kept telling Mollie when she kept getting upset that the weather for my week down there wasn't amazing.  Anything was better than this year's winter in Germany.

Hopped on the shuttle to downtown where Mollie picked me up at the stop and we went to her apartment.  She had come down with a bug the day before so had taken the day off work and was resting all day so she'd be better for the weekend, and since I was equally exhausted and it wasn't even yet 9, we both just passed out and slept til mid-afternoon.  Got some noms...which in France is of course bread and cheese and carrots and more bread and cheese and pain au chocolats yummmm.

Since we were so tired, we didn't do anything on Friday during the day, but being 22- of course we had to do something at night!  First we went to a party at another one of the assistant's places, Jenelle, who's French roommate was celebrating her birthday.  We got there right when it started and there was only me, Mollie, Sarah, and Jenelle, and then Melanie and her friends who were all French.  The groups were a little segregated, and I felt bad about that but I really did try with my French all week!  So I spoke a little with the French people but the most interesting thing about my week down there was the stark difference between French and Germans.  I can speak German but I rarely speak it because Germans are all basically perfect at English and always want to practice.  French are basically the opposite.  Their English is usually not as good and even when they are pretty good at English, they usually don't want to practice it- so basically no French people I met would speak English to me.  It was on the one hand refreshing, but on the other hand kind of ostracizing because there was so much of the conversations I couldn't participate in.  Germany and France need to find a happy medium!

After that party we headed to another party at Flo's, who's on Mollie's frisbee team.  This party was just a bunch of guys from her team and then me, Mollie, and Jilli.  Sometime around midnight we headed out to a club called Cargo which kind of reminded me of an American club because it played American Top 40 and had American style dancing.  Again- another big difference between Germany and France.  It's so crazy that these are neighboring countries, but I was just picking out soooo many differences!

Noms

We were out pretty late so ended up sleeping til about noon.  It was another rainy day so after some food, Mollie and I headed to Odysseum, the big shopping plaza in town and hit up H&M and then bought lots of groceries to make quiche for dinner!  (And of course bread and cheese)  That night we headed to another French party- it was the birthday of the boyfriend of one of the assistants.  It was in a pretty small apartment and again, there was kind of a segregation between the French and the English speakers.  I was disappointed that the French weren't more friendly.   I know that that's the stereotype, but I've had nothing but positive experiences in France...when I spoke no French, and this time around, I was so excited that I actually knew some French and I could have some conversations with people, but no one really wanted to try with me.  I could actually understand quite a bit of what everyone was saying though, just couldn't really respond!

Might be the only pic of me in Montpellier

It was pouring rain on Saturday night but luckily the club was right across the street.  By night two, I was really missing beer though.  We had drank wine and vodka at the parties and the clubs, and beer is ridiculously expensive in France- but that's just what I'm used to drinking normally.  It was another late night and we slept pretty late again, but spent Sunday exploring Montpellier.  It was quite a grey day, but the city was still gorgeous.  Walked around the narrow streets, passing churches and cafes with baguettes in our hands.  I was so surprised to see palm trees and cyprus trees- but then again, that's the climate of the south!

Love those panoramas

Monday brought about the sunshine and warmth I had been waiting for.  We got up bright and early and joined Yumi and Elith to head to the beach!  We went to one that was a little farther away, but it was absolutely GORGEOUS.  We only stayed for a few hours, but the sun was glorious and it's been so long since I've seem the ocean!  We got lots of food and picnicked on the beach, played some frisbee, and sat and had some coffee at a cafe.  Not even kidding, I had chronic headaches all week and I'm pretty sure it was due to the sunshine.  The light was so foreign to my eyes, that a few straight days of it was painful.  You guys all think I'm being dramatic- but I can't tell you how drastic my mood changes have been since the sun has finally made itself familiar.

Beach town

Hello, Mediterranean

We got back mid-afternoon and it was about 65 degrees so I made Mollie come on a run with me, and I was just so not used to running outside in warm temperatures!  Afterwards, we cooked some dinner and then headed to a bar and sat outside to share some wine with Jilli and Chris and just talk about European life and American life and our futures and whatnot.

On Tuesday, I got up and ran with Sarah, who's currently training for a marathon next month.  After some lunch, I went to school with Mollie.  She works in a primary school, so we visited a 3rd, 4th, and 5th grade class I believe.  French teachers are much stricter with their kids, and I was also surprised to see that the teachers barely speak English.  Mollie was saying that she thinks that's why French people aren't good at English generally, because their teachers aren't good at English.  Which is the opposite in German schools--all the English teachers at my school speak perfect English and even the teachers of other subjects all speak English about as well as I speak German!

We stopped home quickly and then headed to frisbee practice.  I've never played ultimate, so what better time to try than in France!  I had already met some of Mollie's teammates at the gathering on Friday, and I met some more.  It was fun to join the practice of a team sport!  I honestly don't remember the last time I participated in a team sport, because all through college I only focused on working out and running- so it was pretty fun!  And I'm not so scared of the frisbee anymore which is a plus! 

Another note- most everyone knows about the French kissing cheeks greeting, called bizou.  Well, in southern France, you had to kiss THREE times.  To everyone!  No matter where you see them!  I could understand bizouing at a party, but like... teammates walking into sports practice and you have to bizou them three times.  It got a little obnoxious.  I like it.  But I'm still a little weirded out by it.  I like hugging better hahaha.  After practice Mollie, Jilli, and I grabbed some Indian style kebab and then headed to the English pub, the Shakespeare, where one of the guys on the team hosts a bilingual quiz night on Tuesdays.  Alas, there was no Guinness on tap, so I got some weird English stout I had never heard of... 7 euro!  Absolutely absurd.  Oh well.  When in Rome...

I liked the atmosphere of the pub a lot.  When we were ordering drinks, Mollie heard a group of boys speaking German at the table next to us and told me and I got so excited and sat down and started speaking German to them... turns out they were all Swedish and were visiting one guy who was studying in Montpellier.  One lived in Austria and one in Switzerland though, so they all spoke German.  Being Swedish, their English was perfect and they actually could've passed as Americans when they spoke, but I insisted they speak German with me.  It was nice to talk with them if only for a bit though, because the French weren't speaking to me again...c'est la vie.

Headed home when the pub closed just before one and on Wednesday Mollie and I headed to Avignon for the day, a little town about an hour away.  The city is in Provence, a different region than Montpellier.  It's famous for the massive papal palace that housed a number of popes centuries and centuries ago when they were facing strife in Rome and moved the seat of the Holy See for a bit.  When we saw the palace, I thought it looked pretty familiar and kind of thought I had been there before.  When I got back to Münster, I looked at my pictures from my trip to Spain, France, and Italy in 2006, and sure enough- I had been to Avignon and had a picture of the palace at night! 

Papal Palace

Bridge to Nowhere

Nevertheless, the city was still beautiful and had a nice park situated atop the city that offered magnificent views of surrounding Provence.  There was also the "Bridge to Nowhere" which is a bridge that only goes halfway across the river- turns out the other part of it was destroyed a couple centuries ago.  It was another beautiful day, and we were tired from walking so we decided to sit down outside a pub to have a drink.  Turns out happy hour had just started, so we stayed for a couple and then got back to the train station at 8.  Well, this being France and not Germany...trains do not run as late.  So there were no more trains back to Montpellier.  We didn't realize this though, until we were on a train going the wrong way.  So Mollie talked to the ticket checker and he told us getting off at Arles, the next stop, would be the best bet.  Then we got stuck in Arles.

Mollie was kind of freaking out and I felt bad for not freaking out too, but honestly I was fine cause I hadn't lost my phone.  Everything in perspective!  She called all her friends though, and they told us there wasn't another train until the morning, so we took a cab into the center of town to a hotel they told us had vacancies.  Well, the hotel was locked.... so we continued walking, and the city was DEAD.  Like not a soul anywhere, it was actually kind of creepy.  Finally we saw the lights of a Best Western and knew that would be open, so we headed in there and purchased a room for the night.  The concierge was actually German who had American relatives and was living in France.  What a world!

We felt really, really, realllllly stupid about missing the train, but it was an honest mistake.  And I think it's really good we were with each other, because both of us have so much experience traveling and were able to keep calm and figure out what to do.  Grabbed some sandwiches and then passed out in our beds and had a nice night's sleep.  Woke up the next morning, and although we had to wear the clothes we had been wearing all day... we had clean underwear!!!  We had done some shopping again in Avignon, mainly along the lingerie lines, and hey- turns out to have been a clutch purchase because we had clean underwear to wear.  Headed down to a massive German-style breakfast and proceeded to stuff our faces.  Then headed out to explore Arles! 

Arles is very small but has lots of Roman stuff.  We passed by some Roman ruins and then by a big Roman arena!  It was raining most of the time we were there but the city was still really pretty.  Very quaint and French.  Again, the arena looked very familiar.... lo and behold I got home and looked back at my photos from that same trip and turns out I had been to Arles as well.  But I hadn't been with Mollie before!

Arena in Arles

After our exploring, we got on the train back to Montpellier.  It was still raining, but Sarah and I went for a run anyways.  Mollie went to practice and I packed up all my stuff and hung out with Sarah a bit...she got back pretty late and we concluded MSM in our pajamas on our electronix.  Lol.  It had been a very tiring and exhausting month!  And then I had to wake up at 5:30am to catch the shuttle to the airport for my morning flight back to Germany.  Hugged Mollie goodbye, but hopefully I'll see her again in May when we might take a random trip somewhere. 

Conked out on the flight again, and then flight attendant actually had to push me awake to put up the window shade during landing... embarrassing because I had drooled all over the place.  Classy, I know.  Do you drool more when you're tired??  Katherine and I were wondering this because she said she's been drooling as well even though both of us usually don't.  But I drooled in Berlin, in Montpellier, on the plane, and then in Mainz as well.  But after a couple good nights of sleep in my bed in Münster...no drool!  Sorry...TMI? ;)

Arrival back at good ol' Frankfurt Hahn and was welcomed back to Germany with snowwww!  Shuttle bus to Mainz where I Katherine and her friend Sam met us who had been visiting all week from the States.  We went to Austin's and just kind of hung out hiding from the snow.  Went and got a drink at a cute little German pub-- and the beer was only 3,50-- ahh times like these I love Germany!  Then got dinner at an Italian place and looking around me at everyone in the restaurant, I really was happy to be back in Germany.  The land of the tall and the blonde and the beautiful.  The land where I can understand people and speak to people.  The land where I understand trains and know that they'll run past 8pm and the land where I have a bank account and the land where I know what products each grocery store has and the land where I can complain about the weather all I want and fit right in with all the other Germans.

As I said, my week in France was great, but disappointing just along the cultural lines, but the pro that came out of that was missing Germany-- something I needed for these final three months here.  I went home last over a month ago now and was crying at the gate when I had to come back... because I was leaving my most familiar home.  But this time around, I was excited to get back to Germany because France was much more unfamiliar than Germany to me.  Mollie and I were talking about this while I was with her- she had a great time in Germany, but still really missed France... she knows France and knows how the people are and knows the culture and how to do day to day things.  And that's how I felt in France- I enjoyed my time and love visiting the beautiful country and eating the delicious food, but at the end of the day, I missed Germany- I missed familiarity- this country I've now lived in for a total of more than a year if you count my time abroad.  It's just a really cool thing to be able to know another country and culture so well, that you can actually miss it when you travel somewhere new-- and miss it first and foremost before your home country.

But the rest of Easter...!  Saturday was the only say from Friday-Monday that stores were open because of Good Friday, Easter Sunday, and Easter Monday (and the Europeans claim to not be religious...) so Austin, Katherine, and I spent a record amount of money at the grocery store for dinner and Easter brunch, and of course chocolate.  Katherine and I both gave up candy and chocolate for Lent so I was counting down the hours until Easter.  We cooked some dinner, drank a bit too much wine, and then headed to the Irish Pub where an Irish duo was playing and they were great!  The Guinness wasn't bad either!

The three of us shared Austin's double bed that night and I got the shaft and got stuck in the middle, but I didn't even mind too much because at least that kept me warm.  Woke up like kids on Christmas Day- the clocks moved forward an hour the night before so we were a little more groggy than usual.  Nevertheless, dressed in our Easter best and headed to the cathedral for church!  (NB- Germans do not share the concept of Easter best- although everyone stayed in their coats during the service, it was clear that the three of us were in the small minority that had dressed up for the occassion...c'mon!  Easter dress is one of the best parts of Easter!!) 

Service started at ten and we got there at 9:45 but still had to stand for the two hour service which was actually wicked painful, but I just kept thinking of Jesus the whole time.  The service was beautiful though-  I remembered back to Easter service I attended in Vienna when I was abroad, and the cardinal archbishop presided, and there was a massive choir and orchestra, and they did the entirety of one of the Bach masses and I was blown away.  This service was very similar- a massive choir and orchestra and the cardinal archbishop, but this time it was a Schubert mass.  After the service, we headed back, and I broke open the chocolate bar I had stored in my purse.  We had awoken to a bright blue sky, but when we left the cathedral, the sky had turned grey and then it snowed all day.  Thanks Germany.  Coldest March in 100 years is right.

Easter service in the Mainzer Dom

BRUNCH

Brunch was great--mimosas, french toast, fruit, eggs, sausage, and so much chocolate and candy I wanted to die by the end of the day.  We were all just so tired that we just layed around and watched movies all day and ate and played with snap peas.  Headed back to Katherine's, passed out, and then caught the train back to Münster in the morning.  It was a beautiful blue sky for the first day of April.  I shared a compartment with a nice old German lady who kept speaking German to me, but she spoke so quietly I couldn't really understand her, but a nice chat nonetheless.  And she gave me leftover purple dyed hard-boiled egg!  So nice!  Germans are the nicest! 

OKAY. WOW. That was lot.  If you're tired of reading this, don't worry, I'm tired of typing this.  I've been back in Münster the last couple years just sleeping, eating chocolate, and running because it's actually been really sunny and close to 50 degrees!  Amazing!  Heading to Hannover tomorrow for a couple days and then I'll be back on Saturday before work begins again on Monday!  That's a wrap!