It wasn’t until fall of 2004 that I came back to knitting. I don’t even remember why or who suggested it, but I do remember going out to Meijer’s to buy some cheap yarn and needles along with a Learn to Knit book. I had realized that it wasn’t the hot pink scarves that drove me away in the first place (or my brothers refusal to wear them), but it was the lack of variety. It was the fast that I hadn’t given Grandma King enough attention and tried to learn more than just knit one row, purl the next. I wanted to learn to make the slippers that she gave everyone in the family a pair of for Christmas (and you had better not wear through the bottom of them until next Christmas cause odds were you would have to wait and she wouldn’t give you more early). I wanted to learn to knit socks (and maybe be able to make a Christmas stocking just like Great Aunt Mary used to). I wanted to make myself a sweater just like the one Grandma King did when I was in grade school (I remember it being so big then and she told me not to worry cause I would grow in to it - I can still wear it to this day). I wanted to be a knitter, not just be able to knit.

I have to admit it was a bit intimidating, but with patience (more than I had in grade school), my practice started to pay off. First, I relearned scarves in lots of different yarns, then I mastered patterened potholders (oh boy!), then the slippers (in multiple sizes for my family and friends) just like Grandma King used to knit, then a baby blanket for my friend Jen’s newest addition to the family, then a hat and gloves for my friend Krishna (although she would have to have giant hands to be able to wear the gloves), etc. I was hooked. I knitted all the time, i.e. while watching tv, listening to music, doing dictations at work, talking on the phone. I realized that it calmed me. It silenced my mind after a long day of work. It focused my semi-ADD traits. It was my therapy! In all of this though there was one thing that still frightened me. Socks. And why you ask? Well, because socks involve knitting in the round on double pointed needles that are so small they look like toothpicks. With enough stuborness though, I bought the needles and yarn and off I went. I loved it. I don’t know what I was so scared of. It was so satisfying. Socks have so many things in them as far as stitches and complexity, but besides all that, who doesn’t like getting a handmade pair of socks from a friend (probably much more than a hot pink scarf right?)

So with the thought of this trip, when I asked Chris if I should take my knitting, he gave me this puzzled stare and then blurted out vehemently, YES! YES YOU ARE TAKING YOUR KNITTING. I was a bit shocked. He went on to explain that he also saw that it calmed and focused me and that going on a trip as stressful and long as this one that I should definately bring something to do. With the space limitations I decided that socks were my best bet and was glad that I had taken the time to learn how to make them. So, I have knitted three pair of socks so far on this trip and am working on my fourth. When I run out of yarn I find a store and pick some up. I have knitted with Spanish, British and German yarn now and couldn’t be happier (and neither could Chris for Lord knows what I would be like without my yarn therapy).

Grandma King passed on in 2000, and I still miss her, but I am sure she would have been happy that I picked up knitting again. I am sure she would also be shocked with how far I have come from the scary scarves I knitted so long ago.

Thank you Grandma King! I Love you!

The Rhine river is one of the busiest shipping rivers in the world and has been ever since the times of the Roman Empire, when this land was the Empire’s northern boundary. It is riddled with castles from the 11th-13th centuries. They became popular on the Rhine with the “robber-barons”, or petty rulers, as a way to collect fees for allowing boats to go down “their” section of the river. (At one time there were 300 independent countries in Medieval Germany). Now a majority of them are either in ruins from wars or have been turned into museums you can tour or hotels/hostels. There are ferries that take you between the towns along the river and it has all turned into a very touristy thing to do.

The day we decided to tour the Rhine it of course rained and was in the 40’s. There were barely any people in Bingen waiting to board the boat. We were surprised then when the boat arrived and it was filled with Japanese tourists. It was very surreal as we were on a boat in Germany where we were obviously the minority. The tour was in German and English but now also Japanese. The waitresses were Japanese and they were all serving Sake. Weird! So, I of course took photos of groups of people, trying not to let them catch me. They also were taking pictures of us, but not as inconspicuous at all as they were giggling while doing so. One cute little man came up to us and wanted a photo with us. I thought he must be confused into thinking we were German, but even after finding out we were from the States, he still wanted our photo! I still have no idea why but maybe it was because Chris was so tall and towered above him like King Kong. I tried later to take his picture, but as he was constantly taking pictures, this proved too difficult. Very weird experience. ( I had a similar one in Kauai once with my mother while boarding a boat bound for the Fern Grotto. We accidentally got on the Japanese tour boat and spent the rest of the time with a Japanese tour guide and lots of Japanese songs.) Even though we are all human, cultural differences can create some interesting experiences.

We actually felt sad as we said “goodbye” to our Asian visitors and went to explore the towns of Bacharach and St. Goar. In Bacharach we climbed a steep path up to the castle, which is now a youth hostel. From it were amazing views (despite the rain and haze). We had at least an hour or two in each of the towns before the next boat came to ferry us away. Even though the towns were pretty deserted, as it was almost the end of the season, we still had a great time and it made for a wonderful day trip. The only downfall of the day came at the end when the ferry ended at a town on the wrong side of the river (Rudesheimer), despite their sch edule saying otherwise, and never dropped us off back in Bingen. Oh there is always something to go wrong while traveling isn’t there. LOL At least this wasn’t major. A few Euro and another boat, “a personferry” took us back to our starting point, where we could walk to the train station and head back to Julie’s. It was all in all a lovely little day trip.

Here’s a tip so you don’t miss one of my back-blogging older blogs. Since I dated the blog on the day I should have written it will not appear on the main page as a new blog. For its already outdated. The trick is to watch and remember the blog number next to my category “Chris’s blog” and when it changes you know I have written in a new blog in the past so to speak. Just click on the category to see the newish back dated blog. I know it’s a little off but it’s me. =) Maybe I will catch up and back-blogging will no longer be necessary. Ha!

The homesickness had started in the U.K. I have never been gone this long on a trip and it was starting to get to me. It was so much easier being in a country where they spoke my language. I did not have to fight communication barriers constantly or find myself fumbling through a phrase book for whatever country we were in. I think Chris felt it too, although I think he felt more the weariness of travel and being in one place for such a short amount of time and having to live out of your backpack and not having enough time to tinker on the Internet and tweak his computer. I instead just started to miss everything, even things that used to drive me crazy.

I missed my pet greyhound Nani. I missed her annoying attempts to snuggle with me on the couch, despite being long/tall and 70 lbs. I missed her angering me by waking me up at 3 A.M. because she had to pee and had a weak bladder. I missed her leaving a hideous wet spot on my lap from her dripping wet nose. I missed her constantly following me around to lean on me. I missed her barking like crazy at the base of the stairs when she thought I was up too late and it was well past HER bedtime and why wasn’t I going to bed. I missed her refusals to get up in the morning if it was too early for her, and I also missed her refusals to go out to pee if it was too wet or too cold for her. I missed her ability to find one of her squeaky toys and squeak the living shit out of it at just the perfect moment during a movie or TV show so I missed some crucial piece of the plot line. lol But, I also missed the good things like rubbing her ears just the right way, like no one else could, so she growls she is so happy. I missed playing “ball” in the backyard. (What Nani calls “ball” is her catching the ball once and then running around you at 30 mph and not giving it back until she is exhausted). I missed her snuggling with me on the bed and stealing Chris’ half. I missed walks around the neighborhood where everyone would come out to pet her. I missed watching Chris and her “wrestle” with her squeaky toys. I missed her being so excited when I came home. I just missed her.

I also missed other things from home. I missed all my friends (esp. Scott and Jen and their kids). I missed ice cream runs to Ritter’s with them after dinner. I missed Scott’s crazy stories and talking with them about nothing in particular till the wee hours of the morning after a BBQ or movie night. I missed my house and being able to not have to live out of a bag. I missed my kitchen. I missed SUPER COLD skim milk. I missed biking around town, the river, the universities and down to the farmer’s market on Saturday mornings with Chris. I missed snuggling with Chris on our super squishy down couch. I missed “borrowing” movies from Chris’ brother (Rick’s) house along with stopping by to absorb all that big family chaos I crave. I missed my cell phone and being able to call anyone anytime I felt like it without worrying about hideous costs or fees or times changes or running out of minutes. I missed Internet that wasn’t hideously slow or had to be bought by the minute at some random hostel. I missed my neighbors and talking with them in the street on great summer nights. I missed my family and my nieces “my chickies”. (They are all pictured here and I am sure it excites them that they are on the Internet!) I missed not having to pay to pee. I missed driving my yellow SUV while singing loudly. I actually missed grocery shopping and cooking in my kitchen. (Did I really say that? Oh dear!) After all the effort and excitement I had when I left the U.S., I couldn’t believe I was missing so much of it already. The only thing that made me smile was that I definitely was not missing work at all and the politics of “the Man”.

This morning though, he is covered. He was devoured last night and has 16 bites. He was quite frustrated (and quite itchy) and tore the room apart searching for the culprit. I thought maybe it was spiders and that he wasn’t going to find anything. But, after taking down a curtain, he found 7 HUGE European Mosquitos. They are different than the North American variety and have longer legs (like daddy long legs) and are larger in the torso.

So, then the hunt began. I can’t really tell you what it looked like because I was downstairs on the couch, but I did hear alot of zapping. (Julie has this cool thing that looks like a tennis racket, but when you turn it on, it really is a bug zapper. You just swat at the bug and when it touches the electrified mesh, it FRIES!) Chris came downstairs a bit later pretty pleased with himself. He says he won the battle. That’ll show those skeeters to tackle with my boyfriend. I still don’t know why I didn’t get any bites though. He must just taste better!

Addendum 9/28/06 - Due to Chris stripping the room and bed of sheets and fabrics and NOT killing all the mosquitos, I woke up this a.m. with 5 bites myself. Silly Chris. Now I know that it is not the fact that he tastes sweeter, he just doesn’t like to be under the covers.

So what would Berlin be without another bike tour? Well, it just wouldn’t have been the same. So we did our 4th bike tour of Europe. This time with the chain Fat Tire Bike Tours. The more you do, there is a discount, and if you hit all three cities they are in, you get a free T-Shirt! Woo-Hoo! Once we found this out, it became our goal. Enda from British Columbia was our guide and was VERY knowledgeable. It was the most thorough bike tour that I have ever been on. He described the political turmoil that has surrounded this city since WWI. It was a beautiful day and to top it all off, this was the first city where not only I, but my bike, was in top working order.

We saw the Palace of the Republic where the communist party had it’s headquarters and the Babelplatz which was the square where the Nazi book burnings occurred under Hitler’s regime. We also saw the massive Berlin cathedral, the Berlin Wall and Checkpoint Charlie again, the Reichstag (which is a government building and has a huge glass dome in it that you can climb), the Brandenburg gate (where everyone rallied when the wall fell), a parking lot where deep below the remnants of Hitler’s bunker remain (or so I am told), the huge TV tower (that was still semi decorated like a soccer ball for the world cup) and the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe. Also on the tour was the Victory column with the Victory Angel atop (a celebration of the war Otto von Bismarck waged on the French long ago) and a lovely ride through a nice big city park that used to be the royal hunting grounds. Today though I saw no wild animals, I only saw lots of naked German males sunbathing in the lovely early afternoon sun. Why this nudity in public parks is a staple in Germany I do not know, but what I do know is that the bike tours I take always go by them on the way to and from the Bier Gartens for a meal and liquor break. Maybe it’s better for the bike tour business, who knows!

We started the day with Museum Island. The first stop was the Altes Museum which housed the Berlin Egyptian collection and the famed Bust of Nefretiti! I turned a corner and there she was. Of course she was behind glass, but she didn’t mind a few pictures taken. It was another one of those, oh yeah I have seen you in my high school history books moments. Very regal the Egyptians. It always amazes me to see things that have survived from so long ago. What I always want to do in museums like this though is touch things, like the art or the statues, etc. I know this is bad and can destroy the art, so I resist and don’t do it. I guess that is why there are guards all around. They are there to keep things like Nefretiti safe.

After that went to the Pergamon Museum with reliefs from the famed Pergamon temple of Turkey. They had found the remains of this huge temple and then reassembled it in the great hall of the museum. Quite amazing. There were all these steps you could walk up. Felt like you were on the outside of an ancient temple that had been transported to the inside of a museum in Berlin. Hard to imagine huh? This museum also has the Ishtar gate (or the gates of Babylon). They are HUGE and on them are all these animals surrounded by richly colored blue and green bricks. Very exotic. This museum also has numerous other pieces of antiquity and well worth a visit.

Last but not least, we toured the region around the Berlin wall. We saw where Checkpoint Charlie was and the Museum of the Wall documenting it’s history, escape attempts, and the amount of loss of life surrounding it over the years. The first generation of the wall was constructed overnight on 8/13/61 to prevent the loss of young laborers to Western Berlin, and stood until 11/9/89 when hoards of people basically stormed the gates and tore it down. Only a few sections of the actual wall are still standing. By this outside gallery about Hitler and the rise of the Nazi’s, called the Topography of Terror, there is a length of the Berlin wall that I was able to touch. Although the graffiti had been mostly chiseled away from this decrepit section and some of the rebar is visible, it is still a powerful symbol. In areas where the wall had been removed, there are usually double cobblestones lining where it used to be in the street. With these double cobblestones as a guide, you can follow it’s path all over town and start to truly appreciate how devastating it was for this city. For almost 30 years, relatives & friends were separated from one another & numerous people lost their lives in escape attempts. Very humbling to be in a city with such a bloody and controversial history.

As I never went to summer camp, I have not yet gotten used to these sleeping situations. The bunk bed situation has gotten a bit easier, but I still find myself sleeping on top of my passport and wrapping the laptop bag around my arm when there are no lockers to safely stow them in. Even though I try to be as quite as possible, I am still awakened at the crack of dawn to multiple alarm clocks going off and their owners ignoring them, even though I can not. The bathrooms are also all a bit scary and I am thankful that I brought my college dorm flip-flops. I rush to the showers in the morning to try to avoid the stampede of half-naked women before the check-out/breakfast rush. Oh well, I guess this is all part of the travelling on a budget. But believe me, when I can stop hunting through my bag, for my toothbrush, in the morning, in the total darkness, trying to be as quite as a mouse, I will be MUCH happier. LOL