The Exploits of a TurboGeek!

Hey….

I don’t have anything profound to write about today.  And I’m going to bed soon, as I’m tired.  I’m sore too.  I did some heavy lifting yesterday, and now much of me hurts to move.  Other parts of me just don’t feel like moving.

However, the part of me that doesn’t want to be a slacker does want to write, so here I am.  Writing about nothing.  This is called navel gazing.  My navel has no lint.  I gazed at it before starting typing, and delinted it.

Y’know, a nice side effect of losing weight is that my belly button is smaller and less apt to accrue lint.  I was tempted to say ‘Gather lint”, but that would imply my belly button actively acquires lint, which I hope is not the case.

I hope this both because i am uncomfortable with the idea of my belly button engaging in activities without my knowledge, and because I’d be troubled to find that some my belly button became a less effective lint gatherer; maybe it is injured or depressed?

Sheesh.  Maybe when I have nothing in particular to write about, I should write nothing.

Hey Ya!

Thanks for keeping the ball rolling while I was gone!  I am back from Amsterdam, and it was a blast.  Now, lets talk about Trains some more.  Since I’ve completed my third trip, I now have a pretty good feel for the trains, and how they all work out.

The first train trip was with my good friend, John, to Warsaw.  It was about 12 hours (each way), and a positive delight.  John and I have both been called upon to travel extensively via air in our careers, and we both agree that the train is such a more civil alternative.  No crazy lines at security, no rushing to get to the airport 2 hours early, no waiting in the terminal for interminable delays.  Just board and go…

What is nice is, you get to change trains periodically, and that means you have mini-stops in new towns, and a chance to stretch your legs throughout the trip.  John is a great travel companion, and we spent the ride to Poland mostly reading, chatting or dozing off.

On the way home, we met some men in black body armor, and sniffing dogs who found something they liked in the bag of a nearby passenger, who was subsequently lead off the train and shot…  I mean searched.  Right outside my window, in fact.  Sadly, my better judgement won, and I didn’t take a photo, but the urge was outstanding.

Of course, this lead to a delay, that caused us to miss the next train, which resulted in our running around in Mannheim, trying to find which train to take instead, missing another connection and then resignedly taking a cab the rest of the way home.  Still and adventure, and still fun.

Next was a trip to Munich.  As Yelnad has partially related, the trip was a blast.  The train to Munich was direct, and quicker than actually driving, including the fact that I typically drive at near mach speeds.  The way home was fun too.  I don’t remember much of a delay, but I did take a short nap.  Crossing a bridge to another train in the middle of a tunnel was a nice touch, I thought.  Perhaps they also have other adventures available, such as dismounting a moving train by grabbing/swinging on a mail bag lever or something.  I don’t know.

Regardless, once again, I found myself trotting with companions through Mannheim, trying to find the right connecting train.  Chryss had joined us on the return, and related her story about getting on the splitting train from Mannheim, where being on the wrong side of the split gets you to thw wrong station…

Heading to Amsterdam was great fun.  I enjoyed the ride, and spent time dozing or reading.  Travelling alone by train is less fun than travelling with friends, but more fun than driving or flying alone.  Driving alone is kind of boring, and flying alone means I won’t be joining the Mile High Club.  There is no such club for trains.  Or maybe there is… The Two Rail Club.  Sounds seedy, anyway.

Once again, there was a delay on the way home.  Luckily, the announcer was reporting the delay in three languages, Dutch, German and English.  This was good, since our table clearly housed people who only spoke one of each of these languages fairly well.  I felt a bit bad because there was a teenaged looking Dutch girl at our table, who was the first person under the age of 30 that I’ve met since living in Europe who didn’t speak any English.  What’s worse, she clearly wanted help/reassurance, and since I had helped her stow her luggage when she boarded, she asked me first.

I was useless to her.

However, I did listen the explanation of the conductor, that there had been a “Personal Accident” and that of someone on their mobile, presumably to their ride home, that in fact someone had committed suicide.  This was confirmed when the conducter explained to me that someone or something had fallen off a bridge and the train could not proceed.  Well, the train in front of us, ours didn’t do the deed.

What I had overheard from my fellow passenger was:

“I am going to be late, so you know.  There is a delay.”

Pause

“What, it is on the news?  What is it?”

Pause

“Suicide…  Why can’t they do that a home with pills or something?”

Kind of grisly, and I don’t think the inconvenienced passenger really got the gravity of the situation.

Anyhow, I’ve been delayed several times by now, so it is old hat.  I consulted the train schedule for my train to find that while i was scheduled to switch trains in Duisberg where I’ve never been, nor heard of, the train I was on went all the way to Frankfurt airport.  I’ve been to Frankfurt Airport on lots of trains, and I know how to get home from there pretty well.

So, after we got moving again, I moved from my current reserved seat, to a seat that appeared to be unreserved for the remainder of the trip (I had learned how to tell by sitting in several wrong seats).  The conductor announced that anyone headed to Mannheim, Frankfurt or a host of other places should still get off in Duisberg and await the next train approximately 30 minutes after we left.

I didn’t.  I stuck to my plan.  Several passengers who eyed my seat change curiously later looked at me with envy, when new passengers came to claim their seats.  Apparently I wasn’t the only one who ignored the directive of the conductor.  I was just one of the few who moved before being evicted.

In Frankfurt, my connection to Mannheim arrived about 30 minutes later, and off I went.  Boarding, I saw many of my fellow passengers who had disembarked at Duisberg.  The train they were leaving had been overcrowded, since it had extra passengers who had missed their initial connection.  Also, it got to the airport 30 minutes later than I had.  I still hope the Dutch girl made it to her flight.  I felt bad for not being able to communicate my plan to her, but what could I have done?  Did i really want to tell a young scared kid to disregard the instructions of a conductor on the off chance that it would help?  Oh well.

I made my way back to Mannheim, and jumped onto my second to last train, feeling alright.  So far, I’d dodged a pitfall or two.  The schedule reminded me of Chryss’s caution about the splitting train, and upon boarding, everything looked right.

Without fail, a German guy asked me if this train was headed to Kaiserslautern, where I was headed.  He asked me in German, and I agreed that I thought the train was headed to K-town.  But doubt lingered.  The train display had changed from S-1 to S-4, so I asked a wandering conductor if we were still going to Kaiserslautern.  I understood the “Nein” part, but the rest was gibberish.

The man I had previously assured now seemed alarmed.  He then followed me to the front of the train.  My plan was to jump off at the next stop, and try to board the front most car in our train, hoping the split hadn’t yet happened.  As the conductor went past again, I asked, in German when the switch was to happen.  At this point, nearly everyone on our train realized they were on the wrong one.  After several conversations in German, and a few American’s asking questions, it was resolved that we would change trains in Schifferstadt.

As this was unfolding, a 20ish German girl, thinking that I spoke both German and English fluently, asked:

“You are going to Kaiserslautern?”

To which I replied “Ja.”

“Good.”  She said.  “We shall all follow you.”

So, after possibly failing the Dutch girl, here I was saving an entire train load of people from going to the wrong line…

“Great.”  I thought  “If anything beyond moving two cars forward is required here, it is going to become pretty apparent that A:  I don’t speak German nearly well enough to lead this party, and B: I’m in no other way cut out for this form of leadership, and finally C.  These people will probably kill me.

But, nothing went wrong, we got on the next train, and all made it to our respective stations.

So, that is the mechanics of the train travel, but there is more to tell.  Just not in this post.  I hope you’re all having fun, and I look forward to reading more guest posts!

Ciao!

 Dan took this picture of Darcy, Rich, and me at the happiest place on the face of the earth.

I do have a train story, and it involves Dan.  The swing community is mostly made up of engineers and teachers, but occasionally you bump into someone who is in “The Business.”  For us, that someone was Alaina.  Alaina was a project manager for Disney.  It is well known that Disney is a bitch to work for, and really cheep with their employees.  But if you stick it out long enough they will give you free tickets to Disneyland.  

Growing up in California it is just assumed that the first thing non-locals do when they get to L.A. is to head to the happiest place on the face of the earth. So, it was a shock to me that Dan, Rich, and Darcy had lived in California for a couple of years and had not been.  With Alaina’s help I was going to make it possible to go there on the cheep (sticking it to the Mouse).  She could get 3 of us in for free and we would split the cost on the fourth ticket.   The only problem, Alaina had to be there to get us in and she had something to do that day.  Being a very generous person, Alaina volunteered to meet us at the park when it opened, get us in, and then leave. 

Rich suggested we meet at Norm’s (a dive) at 6 am for breakfast and then head out.  We agreed even though we had gone dancing the night before and 6 seemed like a very painful hour to be up. Sitting down for breakfast, we knew we were in for an interesting day as we gazed onto the red and green eye shadowed face of our waitress (it was around Christmas time and she was feeling the spirit.) Several caffeine laden drinks later, we piled into the car and headed out.

We met our friend at Disneyland.  We entered the park, thanked Alaina, grabbed a locker to put our essentials in, and proceed to run to as many rides as possible.  No ride was too demeaning, no line too long, my adventurous friends wanted to try it all.  And let’s face it - any chance to play on someone else’s dime just sweetened the deal. By mid-afternoon- the lack of sleep and the constant running hit us hard.  We were looking for rides where nothing more than sitting was required.  So, it was no surprise that we found ourselves on the train that circled the park.  There is no beginning or ending point to this ride.  Usually most people just use the train to quickly get to a destination that is on the opposite side of the park.  Rich, Darcy, Dan, and I climbed into the open-aired train car and collapsed.  For the next 30 min. we propped each other up and went in and out of consciousness as the train circled the park.  Most of the ride was a blur, but I do remember discussing with Dan whether a particular butterfly we observed was edible, and maybe we could make Rich eat it to find out.  Finally, we got off the train and hit a few more rides before meeting up with a different friend –LeeAnne, who had a season pass.  In the end we closed that park down and went home exhausted.

Sorry - besides the trains at travel town and a few subways - I have never been on a train.  I have nothing against them. I just have never had the opportunity.  Instead if you want to replace the word “boat” with the word “train” for my posting go right ahead.

 

It seems that every time I go on vacation with Dan – there is some travel time on a boat. Be it snorkeling in Maui, visiting national treasures in Oahu, transportation to Catalina, or swamp exploration in New Orleans – we always end up over water.

            Dan’s a good person to have with you when floating over the aquatic.  He is both aesthetically pleasing and can be used as a floatation device.   With that said, it must be kept in the back of one’s head that Dan attracts trouble.   We had gone to Catalina for a swing dance camp one year.  Neither one of us planned to take any of the classes; we just wanted to hang with our buddies, play, and dance.  Being around Dan long enough to realize he has his own time line, I told him I would pick him up a 4:00 to head out to Long Beach for the Catalina Express (I didn’t let him know we had 2 hours for a 40 min drive).

I showed up to his place in great need of a calm relaxing weekend. I was in the process of moving into a condo.  I had just spent every penny I had and was going in debt. When I got there Dan sat writing a letter, paying some bills, and doing other administrative stuff. Still I was not too worried, and he was done in little over an hour.  Just as we were leaving he informed me that we had to stop off at his work to drop off a computer for a friend.  Sweat started to form on the back of my neck, but I tried to calm myself.  I pulled up to his work and he ran in – about 15 min. later he returned with his friend.  He passed off the computer and we were off – again. While driving to the freeway, Dan tried to comfort me with “Don’t worry…we will make it… I lead a charmed life”  Being a person who has no idea what having a charmed life means settled into a full blown panic. What I do know is what a California freeway is like at rush hour.  Sure with no traffic – Long Beach is a 20 min drive, but at 5 o’clock it is a parking lot.  The trip to Long Beach consisted of me pleading with Dan to see if he could call and get us a later boat – cursing at the traffic – and telling him that he was paying for my boat fare if we miss the boat.  Finally we arrived at the dock – it was 6 o’clock – I stopped the car in front of the terminal, kicked Dan and the luggage out, and desperately tried to find a parking spot. Meanwhile Dan checked us in. Running down the plank, yelling for the guys to wait, I cursed at Dan for destroying the little bit of sanity I had carved out for myself while my life went through a very the stress period. Once on the boat we quickly found a place to drop our stuff. Sitting down Dan cheerfully informed me that he was right – we made it – relax.  I spent the trip fuming over the stress I was just put through and unable to begin my vacation relaxed.

            The boat ride went quickly and we found ourselves dragging our luggage through the streets of Catalina looking for the condo that we were sharing with friends.  The next day we decided to go snorkeling.  Catalina is a small, vacation island. Summer time is when it makes its money – renting equipment for snorkeling, rafting, scuba diving, and other water activities.  There is a little cove set aside for snorkeling.  It is also the place where the glass bottom boat likes to visit because the fish are plentiful.  The fish are spoiled brats in this area.  The glass bottom boat throws food overboard to attract the fish, and the fish have had generation to feel safe because fishermen are not allowed in the area.  Just before hitting the water, Dan decided to buy a little bag of food.  The water was cold and deep, but we dealt with it. Dan quickly realized the danger of feeding the fish when a little one mistook his finger for food and bit him. Dan let out a yelp and dropped the entire bag of food which disappeared in a swarm of greedy fish.  At this time Dan and I split up. Dan wanted a more active role and swam with the little beasts. I decide to take a more passive stance and just float. Suddenly, something latched itself onto my left hand and bit hard. Screaming in pain and grabbing at whatever was trying to take my hand off, I was able to convince it to let go. Staring down in horror at my hand, there were teeth marks that went from the center of my palm to the tips of three fingers.  For those that know me – I have huge guy hands.  It was not a small creature that thought I was a snack in the making.  Unfortunately, I never got a good look at what was gnawing at my flesh. 

            We decided had had enough of snorkeling and returned our gear.  Dan decided we needed anti-bacterial stuff and we headed off with our battle scars.  For the remainder of trip, Dan used his finger as conversational piece to attract women.  I felt blessed that the fish decided to not bite my follow hand and was able to find plenty of suitable leads.  The next day – Dan, Rich, and Alaina tried to convince me to join them. They wanted to go act irresponsible on jet skies, but since I was low on money and I had had enough of the water - I went to dance by the beach instead. 

 

  The friends and condo in Catalina

I’ve been on a train several times in my life. [Well, maybe not several when compared to the amount of planes I’ve flown on or cars I’ve ridden in, but several compared to the number of submarines I’ve been on*]. My brother and I used to play in an old caboose that was parked at my mom’s work while we were growing up. Or did you mean trains that MOVE? In elementary school we took a class train trip to nowhere. That was cool. We each took a bag lunch to eat on the train and a soda wrapped in tin foil to keep it cold (remember those days?). Bill and I took the Bellefonte Historic Railroad to Lemont and back once. It was a short trip and the best part was the kids next to us who were playing the “PT CRUISER, YOU’RE A LOSER” game (It’s like punchbuggy and you emphasize the punch part). Sometimes we go to my mom’s cousin’s house to ride his trains. They are VERY cool. I’ve also ridden on a variety of subways.

And then there was the one real train trip that I’ve taken. Dan and I took the train from his place to Munich for a weekend and Chryss met us there. It was a great trip, (I highly recommend Munich) until we had to spend two hours stuck in a tunnel on the way home. We actually had to leave our train while in the tunnel and cross over to a train on the next set of tracks. Clearly, Dan was worried. As illustrated in this picture —–> he was sound asleep for the two hours we were stuck while I text messaged back and forth with my sister and played Yahtzee on my cell phone. Chryss knitted a scarf for her sister. It was a nice scarf.

And so, there you have my train adventures. Please share yours!

*I have been in one submarine in my life with Dan and Scott while in Cyprus [which may or may not have been the location of a secret mission]. No, not his brother Scott — the one I went to high school with that I may or may not have dated.