There's a path that runs in front of the house, a hiking path. On good days such as today, it is busy with much foot-traffic. In Switzerland, the hiking paths are marked with yellow arrow signs that say "Wanderweg" - or wander way. Other signs can be as simple as a yellow diamond, just so you know you're on the path. At intersections (yes, they have so many paths that they intersect each other), there are signs that give time and distance to towns or landmarks. Anyway, I digress to the first sign I was describing, the simpler yellow "Wanderweg" signs. When people come on the trail from town, the last sign along the road (or our driveway) and the sign down the hill are not visible from each other - the green house is in the way.
This has been giving me much entertainment since hiking season began. People come (with their walking sticks, of course) and do one of two things at the sign on the driveway. First, they could do the stop and freeze, searching for the sign and not finding it. If there is a couple, the man will usually be pointing with his walking stick in the direction that he thinks the path goes. The second thing they could do is that they usually continue in the direction that the next sign actually is, but stopping in front of the green house so they still cannot see the next sign. Sometimes they continue along the driveway and even around the house, still not spotting it. It gives me great satisfaction to see their confusion.
That is all,
Jon
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Rain, Sun, Visitors, Hay
The weekend weather fit better in the month of March. It rained the entire weekend and didn't get above 50-something until late Sunday morning. Handily, I just so happened to have a guest, Kristen, for the weekend. Instead of doing fun outsidey things, like walking in sunlight, we stayed inside and watched movies (The Hangover, Borat) and tv shows (Flight of the Conchords, Family Guy) until the weather decided to cooperate on Sunday. Before lunch on Sunday, we took the walking path that goes on the driveway and down the hill in front of the house. It provided wonderful views of the valley and area that I hadn't seen before.
Not three hours after Kristen left that day, I went to pick up Stephanie from Wattwil. She had began her travels that day in Salzburg, and has traveled to such cities as Berlin, Prague, Munich and London in the month of July. It was fun to hear what she'd seen. Unfortunately she came at a time when it was impossible for me to take off, so she made use of a relaxing time here on the farm by hiking and playing piano. She'd also help pick currants every once in a while, which I appreciated. Stephanie left today, just before lunch and heading to Basel.
I couldn't take time off because it was high time for hay time. When I wasn't picking currants on Tuesday, I was out on the hillside with a rake. By the end of the day, I barely had the energy to shower the dust off myself.
In due time,
Jon
Not three hours after Kristen left that day, I went to pick up Stephanie from Wattwil. She had began her travels that day in Salzburg, and has traveled to such cities as Berlin, Prague, Munich and London in the month of July. It was fun to hear what she'd seen. Unfortunately she came at a time when it was impossible for me to take off, so she made use of a relaxing time here on the farm by hiking and playing piano. She'd also help pick currants every once in a while, which I appreciated. Stephanie left today, just before lunch and heading to Basel.
I couldn't take time off because it was high time for hay time. When I wasn't picking currants on Tuesday, I was out on the hillside with a rake. By the end of the day, I barely had the energy to shower the dust off myself.
In due time,
Jon
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Most Surprises Are Good
Including this one.
I get a message on Facebook from a friend from Bethel, Nick Schrag. This came on Sunday. Summarizing, it said: "Hey, myself and two friends are in Zurich and are wondering if you have any room to crash for a night or two." I ended up not being alone here while the family is on vacation (they're returning tomorrow). They made the house a base and went up the mountain yesterday afternoon. Aside from that, it was just a great time of socializing. They even helped me out in the stall, which more than earned them their welcome.
These guys are from Freeman, SD, which first made an appearance on this blog in the "Summer From Hell" entry.
Nick has a nice camera and while here for two nights, he took 172 pictures in the Hemberg area. Here are 11 (some with commentary).
Here's the greenhouse that I helped put together. It's got many things, from radishes to broccoli to lettuce growing in there.
When we 'make hay', it gets pulled up through this tube by a very fast fan. It (somehow) automatically moves so that the hay can be distributed evenly in the storage area.
Here's the storage area. That giant fan helps dry the hay.
This is the summer stall that we finished building in the spring. The cows are here in the daytime when it's hot out and then they're let out onto the hillside in the background at night. When we're done cleaning it, the ground is clean.
The sheep have a couple of different places where they can go. The building is another side of the stall/machine shop. The cows eat the grass on the hill above the fence.
Some great workers!
Dirk does have cowbells but doesn't put them on his cows. He says they're too loud, which I agree with. It's 10:30 pm right now and I can hear bells echoing throughout the valley.
We went on a walk last evening and sitting on a fencepost was this hat. It's the typical hat of a Swiss farmer. Sweet!
They left today. Kristen is coming on Friday and Stephanie is coming on Sunday. With more friends coming and the inevitable hay making, the dwindling time will be finished before I know it.
Show Me A Little Shine,
Jon
I get a message on Facebook from a friend from Bethel, Nick Schrag. This came on Sunday. Summarizing, it said: "Hey, myself and two friends are in Zurich and are wondering if you have any room to crash for a night or two." I ended up not being alone here while the family is on vacation (they're returning tomorrow). They made the house a base and went up the mountain yesterday afternoon. Aside from that, it was just a great time of socializing. They even helped me out in the stall, which more than earned them their welcome.
These guys are from Freeman, SD, which first made an appearance on this blog in the "Summer From Hell" entry.
Nick has a nice camera and while here for two nights, he took 172 pictures in the Hemberg area. Here are 11 (some with commentary).
Here's the greenhouse that I helped put together. It's got many things, from radishes to broccoli to lettuce growing in there.
When we 'make hay', it gets pulled up through this tube by a very fast fan. It (somehow) automatically moves so that the hay can be distributed evenly in the storage area.
Here's the storage area. That giant fan helps dry the hay.
This is the summer stall that we finished building in the spring. The cows are here in the daytime when it's hot out and then they're let out onto the hillside in the background at night. When we're done cleaning it, the ground is clean.
The sheep have a couple of different places where they can go. The building is another side of the stall/machine shop. The cows eat the grass on the hill above the fence.
Some great workers!
Dirk does have cowbells but doesn't put them on his cows. He says they're too loud, which I agree with. It's 10:30 pm right now and I can hear bells echoing throughout the valley.
We went on a walk last evening and sitting on a fencepost was this hat. It's the typical hat of a Swiss farmer. Sweet!
They left today. Kristen is coming on Friday and Stephanie is coming on Sunday. With more friends coming and the inevitable hay making, the dwindling time will be finished before I know it.
Show Me A Little Shine,
Jon
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Is a vacation at home possible?
Let me jump back to before the Montreux post and regale you with stories from the weekend that took place two weeks ago, or the weekend before last, or, known simply as the weekend where I was put in charge of the Fellmann Farm. But wait, there's more! For this weekend only, you'll also get an 8 year old who takes Ritalin everyday and loves the rapper 50 Cent even though he doesn't understand any English!
Before I had my weekend of joy at Montreux, I endured a weekend that was filled with me saying words like "nein," "schneller," and "stehen" repeatedly. Cyrill wanted to have a friend come over. Nein. Cyrill would drop behind me when we were walking to the stall. Schneller. Cyrill would sit when he was supposed to help me. Stehen. Cyrill would want a popsicle. Nein. Cyrill would want to stay up. Nein. Cyrill would work too slowly helping me clean up the kitchen and table after eating. Schneller. Nein, nein, NEIN!
The weekend actually went better than I thought it could've gone but it still had its down moments. When the cows were in the stall here at the house, he'd help once or twice a week doing the stall chores, but he hadn't helped yet in the other one. This made it hard to find him something he 'enjoyed' to do. He'd think he was finished with a job and sit down, where I'd find him sitting and then tell him to get up and work, because he wasn't finished. Perhaps this was one of the few times that I was glad my German isn't perfect. There were times where I wanted to say some choice things to...umm...'motivate' him in ways a coach or two has 'motivated' me in the past.
I was rewarded for my weekend of work with two extra days off. However, as time is dwindling I do not know how I will spend my two remaining days off. I think Dirk was trying to 'help' this situation by having me start work an hour later each day this past week. While I am a fan of later sleeping, my internal clock is tuned to wake up each day at 6:45. So on these days of supposed later sleep, I'd be lying in bed wide awake for an hour and that's not how I want to lose half a day of a day off. In fact, I think Dirk was quite perturbed that I actually started work at the normal time on Friday. Too bad.
The weather here has been quite Oregonish. Highs have been between 60 and 75 with lots of drizzly weather. On Thursday evening, the skies finally cleared just enough for the sun to peak and shine through the still rainy weather. I ran down to the fence at the bottom of the property to snap some rainbow pictures, unobstructed from the electric towers. I'm really going to miss the valley.
On Wednesday night, Dirk, Maya, Tim and I stayed up a bit later and played a game - Scotland Yard. The game involves trying to stumble upon a thief (Tim) in the city of London. The rest of us were detectives and tried to find him. Tim really likes Michael Jackson (or Michi Jackson, as it's said here) and was devastated to hear about his death. (I was more devastated to hear about Billy Mays myself.) In the game, Tim didn't want us to see where he was looking on the board.
I finally get a few moments of some peace and relaxation here on the farm. The family is leaving tomorrow with the camping trailer and going up to a camp ground near the Bodensee. They'll be gone until Wednesday. We'll probably be doing more hay later in the week. I'm looking forward to a visit from Bavarian Trainee Kristen Jones next weekend and Dutch Trainee Stephanie Siemens after Kristen leaves.
I've also begun throwing certain items toward my suitcase. In a few short weeks I'll be returning to the land of the hot and home of Jessica (Kansas). I mustn't get too used to the views outside my bedroom window, but it's hard when they're this fantastic.
Enjoy yourself, it's later than you think.
Jon
Before I had my weekend of joy at Montreux, I endured a weekend that was filled with me saying words like "nein," "schneller," and "stehen" repeatedly. Cyrill wanted to have a friend come over. Nein. Cyrill would drop behind me when we were walking to the stall. Schneller. Cyrill would sit when he was supposed to help me. Stehen. Cyrill would want a popsicle. Nein. Cyrill would want to stay up. Nein. Cyrill would work too slowly helping me clean up the kitchen and table after eating. Schneller. Nein, nein, NEIN!
The weekend actually went better than I thought it could've gone but it still had its down moments. When the cows were in the stall here at the house, he'd help once or twice a week doing the stall chores, but he hadn't helped yet in the other one. This made it hard to find him something he 'enjoyed' to do. He'd think he was finished with a job and sit down, where I'd find him sitting and then tell him to get up and work, because he wasn't finished. Perhaps this was one of the few times that I was glad my German isn't perfect. There were times where I wanted to say some choice things to...umm...'motivate' him in ways a coach or two has 'motivated' me in the past.
I was rewarded for my weekend of work with two extra days off. However, as time is dwindling I do not know how I will spend my two remaining days off. I think Dirk was trying to 'help' this situation by having me start work an hour later each day this past week. While I am a fan of later sleeping, my internal clock is tuned to wake up each day at 6:45. So on these days of supposed later sleep, I'd be lying in bed wide awake for an hour and that's not how I want to lose half a day of a day off. In fact, I think Dirk was quite perturbed that I actually started work at the normal time on Friday. Too bad.
The weather here has been quite Oregonish. Highs have been between 60 and 75 with lots of drizzly weather. On Thursday evening, the skies finally cleared just enough for the sun to peak and shine through the still rainy weather. I ran down to the fence at the bottom of the property to snap some rainbow pictures, unobstructed from the electric towers. I'm really going to miss the valley.
On Wednesday night, Dirk, Maya, Tim and I stayed up a bit later and played a game - Scotland Yard. The game involves trying to stumble upon a thief (Tim) in the city of London. The rest of us were detectives and tried to find him. Tim really likes Michael Jackson (or Michi Jackson, as it's said here) and was devastated to hear about his death. (I was more devastated to hear about Billy Mays myself.) In the game, Tim didn't want us to see where he was looking on the board.
I finally get a few moments of some peace and relaxation here on the farm. The family is leaving tomorrow with the camping trailer and going up to a camp ground near the Bodensee. They'll be gone until Wednesday. We'll probably be doing more hay later in the week. I'm looking forward to a visit from Bavarian Trainee Kristen Jones next weekend and Dutch Trainee Stephanie Siemens after Kristen leaves.
I've also begun throwing certain items toward my suitcase. In a few short weeks I'll be returning to the land of the hot and home of Jessica (Kansas). I mustn't get too used to the views outside my bedroom window, but it's hard when they're this fantastic.
Enjoy yourself, it's later than you think.
Jon
Sunday, July 05, 2009
Rock Cliches and a Drumstick
"We all came out to Montreux
On the Lake Geneva shoreline
To make records with a mobile
We didnt have much time
Frank zappa and the mothers
Were at the best place around
But some stupid with a flare gun
Burned the place to the ground
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky"
-Deep Purple
Since last weekends wonderful time with Cyrill, I hadn't been able to get "Smoke on the Water" out of my head. I was extremely excited for my 4th of July Weekend and sang the first lines of the song repeatedly. Rock cliche, I know.
I left on the 8:35 bus on Saturday morning to begin my 'pilgrimage' to the Montreux Jazz Festival. What began as a jazz fest in 1967 soon turned into an arts festival spanning not only jazz, but reggae, classic rock, hip-hop, and any other genre under the sun. As soon as the Dave Matthews Band was announced to make their first appearance at the legendary festival, I knew I had to take the opportunity to see one of my favorite bands at such a historical fest.
In Zurich, I met up with a fellow DMB fan that I met online and we were going to make the trip together. We only live about an hour away so it made meeting up pretty easy. He had previously traveled to Paris earlier in the week to see them and is also going to their Amsterdam show this week. Lucky guy.
We arrive in Montreux to building storm clouds and skies growing gray. We follow signs from the station that have only one word: jazz. This is a serious fest! The Montreux Music and Convention Center and main location of the fest is located on the shore of Lake Geneva.
We scoped out the venue for lines and joined the only one we saw, thinking that it was already the line for the concert. It was the line for tickets to be released that day. We already had our tickets so we walked around. Stefan had met a woman at the Paris show that lived in Lausanne and she was also joining us in our adventure to be in the front row. Perhaps I should explicitly explain this. I'd seen DMB three times previously, all times being either in the lawn at an amphitheater or half-way back in an arena. I always had to rely on the video screens to even make out what was going on on-stage. The ticketing and seating arrangement for this show was opposite of typical North American shows: the general admission, cheaper standing tickets were on the floor and the expensive seats were in the balcony. Anyways, my goal was to be front row, dead center. Goal stated.
For easy re-entry once you enter the venue, your ticket was checked and you were given a bracelet. The three of us were first in line for that at 4 pm. From there, we proceeded to be first in the venue line.
We waited in line for 3.5 hours and met some interesting people. There was a couple who came down from Hannover for their first DMB show. There were some eastern European fans that came. There were people from Spain, France, Germany, and Switzerland to see the show that night. After 3.5 hours, the doors open and in the style of a cow slaughterhouse we sprint up stairs (taking 5 or 6 at a time) and there I am, staring at the stage set up for Steely Dan from the front row, absolutely dead center.
I make small talk with an older gentleman sitting on the floor next to me as we wait for the show to start. Since the festival's inception in 1967, he has only missed 4 or 5 years. He used to come for a week but now chooses a show to come to each year. He said Bob Dylan is always the best show. He even had juice boxes!
Finally the lights dim and the festival organizer comes out, introduces the night and Steely Dan takes the stage.
They played all their hits. From Reelin' in the Years to Aja to Two Against Nature, I was surprised that I recognized a lot more than I thought I'd recognize. They played a funky hour and 45 minutes of music. The piano player even played a melodica!
They started 5 minutes late and played 15 minutes over their allotted time. The DMB fans were worried that DMB would have to cut their set a bit shorter. After a quick change and 30 minutes to sit and rest up, the lights went down and DMB was introduced. The hall came alive with a bit more raucous cheering than Steely Dan had.
Starting 15 minutes later than they were supposed to, they also chose not to stick to their allotted time. Thankfully. They played many new songs off of their new album (which sounds fantastic, by the way). Dave's shirt was also soaked with sweat after about 2 songs. He didn't help himself in this regard by dancing like a mad-man.
They put on a fantastic show, even though it was a little over half the length of what they usually play.
Anticipating being in the front row, I made a sign. I heard a story that there was a person who brought a sign to each concert he went to that only said "Love". People were remembering him by making signs that said the same thing. Here's my Swiss Cheese Love sign:
At the beginning of DMB's set, there were about 15 photographers in the space between the front row and the stage. A couple took pictures of me holding the sign while I was singing and dancing. The camera behind Carter even zoomed to the crowd and I could tell he was focusing on me (or my sign). On #41 (a song by DMB), Dave looked down and gave me a slight nod. They noticed!
Not wanting to waste paper, I also wrote something on the other side. It said, "Carter rocks my socks off! ...stick?" Carter is the drummer. When they finished the set and walked off the stage, he walks directly toward me, pointing his sticks at me. He tosses two in my direction and I successfully catch the first. In awe that I caught the first, the second one lost my attention. I didn't care. I got a Carter Beauford drumstick!
Being hot and thirsty after dancing and singing to DMB, we exited the venue as the stage was being changed to Chickenfoot. Here are the three of us who met up: me, Stefan and Anne.
Anne left so Stefan and I went back in to check out Chickenfoot. They were terrible. It seems like Joe Satriani only knows how to play a guitar solo, not a song; and Sammy Hagar started every crowd participation in the book. We left after a couple of songs back to the train station and caught a 3 am train back to Lausanne, where we slept in the train station for a couple hours before getting on the first train back to our region of Switzerland.
It was a mighty fine weekend! Perhaps DMB will get invited back and will be allowed to play longer, but for now I'm just hoping that a DVD will get released. Montreux generally releases shows a couple of years after they happen, so I can only hope that a show (where I was front row at!) will get released on DVD.
I'm tired and need to brush my teeth as that hasn't happened since Saturday morning. Mmm.
Here's a slideshow with other pictures from the weekend, though I posted all the 'good' ones.
Keep on the sunny side,
Jon
On the Lake Geneva shoreline
To make records with a mobile
We didnt have much time
Frank zappa and the mothers
Were at the best place around
But some stupid with a flare gun
Burned the place to the ground
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky"
-Deep Purple
Since last weekends wonderful time with Cyrill, I hadn't been able to get "Smoke on the Water" out of my head. I was extremely excited for my 4th of July Weekend and sang the first lines of the song repeatedly. Rock cliche, I know.
I left on the 8:35 bus on Saturday morning to begin my 'pilgrimage' to the Montreux Jazz Festival. What began as a jazz fest in 1967 soon turned into an arts festival spanning not only jazz, but reggae, classic rock, hip-hop, and any other genre under the sun. As soon as the Dave Matthews Band was announced to make their first appearance at the legendary festival, I knew I had to take the opportunity to see one of my favorite bands at such a historical fest.
In Zurich, I met up with a fellow DMB fan that I met online and we were going to make the trip together. We only live about an hour away so it made meeting up pretty easy. He had previously traveled to Paris earlier in the week to see them and is also going to their Amsterdam show this week. Lucky guy.
We arrive in Montreux to building storm clouds and skies growing gray. We follow signs from the station that have only one word: jazz. This is a serious fest! The Montreux Music and Convention Center and main location of the fest is located on the shore of Lake Geneva.
We scoped out the venue for lines and joined the only one we saw, thinking that it was already the line for the concert. It was the line for tickets to be released that day. We already had our tickets so we walked around. Stefan had met a woman at the Paris show that lived in Lausanne and she was also joining us in our adventure to be in the front row. Perhaps I should explicitly explain this. I'd seen DMB three times previously, all times being either in the lawn at an amphitheater or half-way back in an arena. I always had to rely on the video screens to even make out what was going on on-stage. The ticketing and seating arrangement for this show was opposite of typical North American shows: the general admission, cheaper standing tickets were on the floor and the expensive seats were in the balcony. Anyways, my goal was to be front row, dead center. Goal stated.
For easy re-entry once you enter the venue, your ticket was checked and you were given a bracelet. The three of us were first in line for that at 4 pm. From there, we proceeded to be first in the venue line.
We waited in line for 3.5 hours and met some interesting people. There was a couple who came down from Hannover for their first DMB show. There were some eastern European fans that came. There were people from Spain, France, Germany, and Switzerland to see the show that night. After 3.5 hours, the doors open and in the style of a cow slaughterhouse we sprint up stairs (taking 5 or 6 at a time) and there I am, staring at the stage set up for Steely Dan from the front row, absolutely dead center.
I make small talk with an older gentleman sitting on the floor next to me as we wait for the show to start. Since the festival's inception in 1967, he has only missed 4 or 5 years. He used to come for a week but now chooses a show to come to each year. He said Bob Dylan is always the best show. He even had juice boxes!
Finally the lights dim and the festival organizer comes out, introduces the night and Steely Dan takes the stage.
They played all their hits. From Reelin' in the Years to Aja to Two Against Nature, I was surprised that I recognized a lot more than I thought I'd recognize. They played a funky hour and 45 minutes of music. The piano player even played a melodica!
They started 5 minutes late and played 15 minutes over their allotted time. The DMB fans were worried that DMB would have to cut their set a bit shorter. After a quick change and 30 minutes to sit and rest up, the lights went down and DMB was introduced. The hall came alive with a bit more raucous cheering than Steely Dan had.
Starting 15 minutes later than they were supposed to, they also chose not to stick to their allotted time. Thankfully. They played many new songs off of their new album (which sounds fantastic, by the way). Dave's shirt was also soaked with sweat after about 2 songs. He didn't help himself in this regard by dancing like a mad-man.
They put on a fantastic show, even though it was a little over half the length of what they usually play.
Anticipating being in the front row, I made a sign. I heard a story that there was a person who brought a sign to each concert he went to that only said "Love". People were remembering him by making signs that said the same thing. Here's my Swiss Cheese Love sign:
At the beginning of DMB's set, there were about 15 photographers in the space between the front row and the stage. A couple took pictures of me holding the sign while I was singing and dancing. The camera behind Carter even zoomed to the crowd and I could tell he was focusing on me (or my sign). On #41 (a song by DMB), Dave looked down and gave me a slight nod. They noticed!
Not wanting to waste paper, I also wrote something on the other side. It said, "Carter rocks my socks off! ...stick?" Carter is the drummer. When they finished the set and walked off the stage, he walks directly toward me, pointing his sticks at me. He tosses two in my direction and I successfully catch the first. In awe that I caught the first, the second one lost my attention. I didn't care. I got a Carter Beauford drumstick!
Being hot and thirsty after dancing and singing to DMB, we exited the venue as the stage was being changed to Chickenfoot. Here are the three of us who met up: me, Stefan and Anne.
Anne left so Stefan and I went back in to check out Chickenfoot. They were terrible. It seems like Joe Satriani only knows how to play a guitar solo, not a song; and Sammy Hagar started every crowd participation in the book. We left after a couple of songs back to the train station and caught a 3 am train back to Lausanne, where we slept in the train station for a couple hours before getting on the first train back to our region of Switzerland.
It was a mighty fine weekend! Perhaps DMB will get invited back and will be allowed to play longer, but for now I'm just hoping that a DVD will get released. Montreux generally releases shows a couple of years after they happen, so I can only hope that a show (where I was front row at!) will get released on DVD.
I'm tired and need to brush my teeth as that hasn't happened since Saturday morning. Mmm.
Here's a slideshow with other pictures from the weekend, though I posted all the 'good' ones.
Keep on the sunny side,
Jon
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Audience Participation!
We're in the heart of strawberry season here, which means one thing: post your favorite things to do with strawberries!
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Jon Huber - Slavedriver
If this weekend were going to be shot as a movie, this is how I'd probably be credited in the credits.
Cyrill had a bad week at school so he doesn't get to go home to his mom or dad this weekend. It also happens that tomorrow is Dirk's birthday and he and Maya will be going away for the weekend.
How handy.
I'll let you in on just one of the things Cyrill did, only because I happened to be involved. Yesterday I was told to keep an eye on him while he did his homework and I played with Salome. He was to get a half-hour pause after each piece of homework was finished. So I asked him that when he was done to bring me the paper so I could make sure that he was done. Sounds easy, right? Apparently not so much for him. I was outside with Salome and he opened his window to tell me that he was done and he was ready for his pause. I asked him to bring me the paper. He whined and shoved it up to the window thinking that'd make me happy.
Later after I saw the paper and let him take his pause, he was playing with a tiny water gun. Salome mimics everything that Cyrill does and it's starting to get really annoying. We've had some rather cooler weather here lately so they were playing with the water gun inside. I didn't think that was a good idea. I followed them upstairs and when I reached the steps and came within their vision, I got shot in the face. Being kind of chilly and inside didn't make this situation any worse. Cyrill took the gun away from Salome (who shot me) and probably knew that I was going to take it away from him. I asked him nicely many times but he never gave it up. Then I became all parental on his keister and counted to 10 with my hand out. He started crying. Hooray! That was also when I reached into his pocket and took the gun out and he ran to his room, swearing at me as he went. Hooray!
Apparently he also did other things in school that I only heard tale of but cannot regale them here because I don't know all the details. I don't know if I want to. I think I heard one story where the nouns in the story were Cyrill, poop, and a Kindergartner. Scheisse.
Drik and Maya are leaving tomorrow soon after lunch. Tonight Dirk spent some time on the computer coming up with a schedule for the weekend. That's nice. I think one of the only saving graces is that I'm getting 2 whole days off for doing this this weekend.
Stay tuned, I'll probably have more stories after the weekend.
Rest well,
Jon
Cyrill had a bad week at school so he doesn't get to go home to his mom or dad this weekend. It also happens that tomorrow is Dirk's birthday and he and Maya will be going away for the weekend.
How handy.
I'll let you in on just one of the things Cyrill did, only because I happened to be involved. Yesterday I was told to keep an eye on him while he did his homework and I played with Salome. He was to get a half-hour pause after each piece of homework was finished. So I asked him that when he was done to bring me the paper so I could make sure that he was done. Sounds easy, right? Apparently not so much for him. I was outside with Salome and he opened his window to tell me that he was done and he was ready for his pause. I asked him to bring me the paper. He whined and shoved it up to the window thinking that'd make me happy.
Later after I saw the paper and let him take his pause, he was playing with a tiny water gun. Salome mimics everything that Cyrill does and it's starting to get really annoying. We've had some rather cooler weather here lately so they were playing with the water gun inside. I didn't think that was a good idea. I followed them upstairs and when I reached the steps and came within their vision, I got shot in the face. Being kind of chilly and inside didn't make this situation any worse. Cyrill took the gun away from Salome (who shot me) and probably knew that I was going to take it away from him. I asked him nicely many times but he never gave it up. Then I became all parental on his keister and counted to 10 with my hand out. He started crying. Hooray! That was also when I reached into his pocket and took the gun out and he ran to his room, swearing at me as he went. Hooray!
Apparently he also did other things in school that I only heard tale of but cannot regale them here because I don't know all the details. I don't know if I want to. I think I heard one story where the nouns in the story were Cyrill, poop, and a Kindergartner. Scheisse.
Drik and Maya are leaving tomorrow soon after lunch. Tonight Dirk spent some time on the computer coming up with a schedule for the weekend. That's nice. I think one of the only saving graces is that I'm getting 2 whole days off for doing this this weekend.
Stay tuned, I'll probably have more stories after the weekend.
Rest well,
Jon
Friday, June 19, 2009
Vacation Slideshow
For those of you not wanting to read or scroll through the entire post (I know it's a long one), here's a slideshow of all the pictures in that post.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
The Big Three
I got back last night from Amsterdam about 8:15. Yesterday was the last day of a European trip to three of the biggest destinations: Munich, Prague and Amsterdam. I made this lovely excursion with none other than this lovely girl I met a couple years ago named Jessica. She's neat.
I left last Wednesday and got on a EuroCity train bound for Munich and I arrived to Stief's (nickname for Stefan) apartment around 6:30. After dropping stuff off, we headed for Olympic Park and set up a Slackline. You know those straps that are used to tie down heavy loads on trucks? That's what a Slackline is, so, we Slacklined.
That's Stief:
This is me trying my hand at it:
By the next day, I could stand pretty well and even walk 4 or 5 steps. It's a pretty fun hobby that I might take up.
Jessica arrived the next day from Spain, where she'd spent a few days with her family. I got to go to the airport and pick her up. We were happy to see each other.
The Munich Airport is right next to the town of Freising. If that sounds familiar, Freising is where the Huber Brewery that appeared in my post called "Munich and Oktoberfest". Jessica and I stopped there on the way home and went to the Huber Brewery for lunch. I had a Huber Burger and Huber Fries, with a Huber Weisses Beer. Mmm.
We walked by the town square, which had colored sawdust laid down in artful patterns. This is the coat of arms for Freising:
Stief was a great guide. On Thursday evening he took us on a short walking tour. One of the stops was at a bridge over the river that runs through the English Garden. People attached boards to ropes and set them in the fast moving water to form a wave that can be ridden. Apparently Jack Johnson (famed singer/songwriter and surfer) made a stop here when he played Munich last summer.
Then we had a lighter supper by the Chinese Tower. We didn't bring our own food, but we did have some yummy sausages and beer. It was a fun atmosphere which I'd like to experience in the daytime.
The next day we bid Stief farewell and went to the train station. Our train for Prague didn't leave until 4:43 pm, so we still had time to see Munich sights. We didn't want to do that with all our stuff, so we put our things in a luggage locker.
We mainly walked through the main pedestrian zone in Munich and lunch at another beer garden, this one in the Viktualienmarkt. Walking along a sidestreet, we ran into the world famous Hofbrauhaus. It has two large rooms, which can hold a couple thousand people each. Here is one, where the origins of the Nazi Party began.
For a fee, one can purchase or rent a locker for their beer stein:
After the visit to the Hofbrauhaus, we found the trainstation and got onto our train. Being one of the first ones on, we thought that we'd be the only one's in a compartment - a very good thing on a long-distance train. Suddenly a man came in and made himself comfortable and then he stood in the corridor hanging out the window. People would squeeze by him and ask us if there was room in our compartment (3 places left). He'd answer for us, saying, "Weiter, weiter." That basically means keep going. He turned away all these people but suddenly a Catholic Sister appeared at the doorway, just as the train was about to move. We thought, "Was he going to turn her away, too?" He didn't! And we only had to deal with him for about 35 minutes, when he got off the train.
We had to switch trains at the border of Germany and the Czech Republic. Once you cross the border, you know just by looking at the buildings that you are in a different country. The buildings look drab and run-down. Once we made it to Prague, our host, Ondra, wasn't on the platform to greet us. Instead, a woman in her 50s asked us in a quiet voice, "Do you have accommodations?" "Yes!" was our immediate and firm response. A couple minutes later, Ondra showed up.
We got in at about 11 pm, thendropped our stuff off at our "accommodations" and proceeded to see the city lit up beautifully at night.
He took us first to Wenceslas Square, which is better defined as a boulevard. At the beginning of it is the National Museum.
Then he took us to the Old Town Square to view the Astronomical Clock.
And the Charles Bridge at night.
The next day (Saturday) we went to one of the highest points in Prague, which is where the castle is that the prime minister lives in.
Then down to a garden which had this weird wall sculpture.
We utilized the Metro a lot in Prague. I was amazed at how long the escalators were. Some took 3 minutes to make the trek!
That evening we went to a beer garden. British men are known to have their bachelor parties in Prague because in the long run, it's cheaper for the flight and drinks than to plan a party on their little island. We ran into the man-to-wed in the bathroom.
After that, we went up this tower to get views of the sunset and city at night.
On Sunday, we went to another castle, this one just above the river.
They grow their grapes differently there, with big sticks instead of wires between sticks.
:)
We also utilized the tram system. At this particular machine, we had put in our money and heard the change be dispensed, but no change came tumbling out. Upon further investigation, some punks had put wadded up tape inside to catch lose change. We foiled their plans and took all 56 Koruners that came out.
Typical Prague building facade.
Then we climbed a tower that resembles the Eiffel Tower. From there, we saw the Strahov Stadium. It has a capacity of 220,000 and is the training facility for Sparta Prague. It's not used for official sporting events, but large pop concerts. It's the second largest sporting complex in the world, just after the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.
On the walk down the hill, we spotted the Charles Bridge through some trees. The bridge began construction in 1537 and was the most important trade route between Eastern and Western Europe upon completion. Today, it's thronged with tourists during the day and is romantically lit and quiet at night.
I like to sample local food and I made my wish known to Ondra...the less English the place knew the better, in my opinion. Ondra took us to a local pub and there I had sauerkraut, pork, potato dumplings, red cabbage. It was tasty.
And now begins a series of unfortunate events that somehow eventually righted themselves. Jessica and I left Prague early Monday morning at 7 am. The night before, I had for some reason thought that we left at 8 am, so we prepared to get to the airport for an 8 am flight. This wasn't realized until we get to the airport (after first getting off at the wrong bus stop) and read the departure board. After 20 minutes of sign-less walking, we finally found the check-in desk, only to choose the slowest line. Finally we get our bags checked and our boarding passes and hurry to security. Security was a breeze and we're finally at the gate, 15 minutes before the departure time. They weren't even boarding the plane yet. Crisis #1 averted.
Once we got settled into our seats at the gate, I thought my pockets felt a little different than normal. I soon realized that my credit card, BahnCard, Swiss visa, and my cell phone were not in their normal home. I shot up and without saying much to Jessica, I took off on a dead sprint back to security. Perhaps the two policemen I passed thought something was weird, since I wasn't heading toward a gate, however, they just watched my fly by. I arrived at security and was directed to the supervisor, who had the tray with all my stuff in it. I grabbed it, shoved the contents into my pockets and took off on another dead sprint back to the gate where I found Jessica hurriedly looking through my backpack. The line to begin boarding had formed and we weren't locked out of our flight to Amsterdam. Crisis #2 averted.
After an uneventful flight (the best), we land in Amsterdam. We deplane and didn't have to wait long for our luggage to come on the belt. Jessica was getting the passports out of my backpack when I smelled something and asked Jessica if she smelled it too. To confirm my suspicion, I opened the suitcase and the smell hit me even harder. One bottle of wine, from Liechtenstein, had broken. Of course, it's only the red wine bottles that break and this was my luck. We dropped everything and went up to the lost/damaged baggage desk. I also mentioned that the handle had been broken, which had happened well before this trip, but I thought I'd try my luck. The lady asked for identification so I asked Jessica for my passport which she had taken out of my backpack. As luck would have it, she had left them at the luggage belt where we had discovered the broken bottle. Fortunately, the common man is inherently good and someone met her halfway, holding our passports up as if they were playing cards in a hand of poker. I'm anticipating a free piece of luggage. Crises #'s 3 and 4 averted.
I had been given instructions by our host in Amsterdam on where to go with the trains. Feeling sure that we were getting onto the right train, it never stopped at the station that we needed to get off at. Instead, it took us directly into Amsterdam Centraal Station, in the middle of town. Making contact with our host, we took a tram to where she eventually met us. Crisis #5 averted.
So finally we are in Amsterdam. But before we can go anywhere, laundry with the smell and color of red wine needs to be done. Fortunately Sarah had the equivalent of OxiClean and after a little while of soaking the whites were whiter and the colors were brighter. Crisis #3.1 averted.
And finally, after a much needed nap, we head into Amsterdam. Unfortunately for you, the reader, I took no Amsterdamian pictures so you'll have to listen/read my words.
Sarah had given us directions to the "Singelkerk", a hidden Mennonite church in Amsterdam. A hidden church means only that the church was not visible from the street, not that they necessarily had to hide their worship. We came unannounced and the caretaker was happy to drop everything and show us around. I think he likes visitors. I remember visiting here on choir tour in 2006 and I was glad to revisit, this time to pay attention to what was being said.
We then walked through the main shopping district and arrived at a recommended french fry stand called "Mannekin Pis". Their logo is just that. The fries don't taste anything like that. We had ours squirted with cheddar cheese and they were fantastic. We walked through the old town and decided to find a park bench to sit on for the afternoon and then we headed back to Sarah's place for a wonderful meal of enchiladas.
The next day (we're on Tuesday now), Jessica awoke with backache which was very similar to the one that put me out of commission for a few days at the end of May. This meant we slept until noon and luckily that was also when the rain decided to quit. She took some ibuprofen and we headed out for the day. In Amsterdam again, we went to the Van Gogh Museum which is near Vondelpaark. After that, we walked through the Blumenmarkt (Flower Market) and eventually found the tram for the ride back to Sarah's. We saw a bit of Amsterdam but we were exhausted from our times in Munich and Prague and that showed with how touristy we were.
Wednesday was the day we decided not to talk about for that was the day we were parting ways - she to America and me back to Switzerland. I double checked my flight the night before, so I knew that I was correct. Jessica was too. Our flights were both in the same terminal but my flight left an hour before hers did, so she took me to my gate and that was where we said goodbye after a wonderful six days together.
I flew British Airways to London and was to switch planes there and board one bound for Zurich. To make this story better, BA wanted me to find my way through the infamous Terminal 5 at London Heathrow. Let it be known now, Terminal 5 can rest in the shallow places where the likes of NASCAR, Britney Spears, MTV, rap music, and Czech Baggage Handlers reside. Luckily I had 3 hours between my flights to do everything. For some reason, they make you go security again even when transferring from one flight to another. Why? You don't leave a secure area, ever! This means anyone boarding a flight in London, as well as the transferees, must go through the same security. It was routine to let people who had sooner connections through the line.
Avoid this terminal at all costs:
Finally, after a well deserved British Ale, I was seated at my gate. As I was sitting down and settling, I saw a beast take off. The beast was one of the new Airbus A380's departing departing the runway. Unfortunately I couldn't get my camera until it was well away, but here's what I came up with.
The A321 we boarded was only filled with 25% capacity. Soon after we took our seats, a PA announcement came over the speakers and told us that while we had one pilot, the plane needed two to make the flight. Where could we find a pilot, hmm? Well, I knew of two others on that plane - myself and the guy next to me was a pilot for NetJets (a fractional ownership company). Instead of asking if there were any pilots on board, we waited and took off an hour and a half late with another BA pilot. I was beginning to question whether or not I would make it back to Zurich in time to make the connections I needed to make the 19:35 bus...the last bus of the night. I was pondering this question as the Swiss Alps became larger on the horizon.
I deplaned for the second time that day and quickly found the baggage carousel and snagged my backpack. I hurried toward the rail lines and found that the last train I could use was leaving in 4 minutes. As soon as I got my ticket, I sprinted down the escalator and there was the train that I climbed aboard and made it to Wattwil just in time for the last bus. Crisis #6 averted.
Congratulations,
Jon
PS - Comments have been disabled for this post. If you would like to leave a comment (you know you want to), leave it on the slideshow that's posted above.
I left last Wednesday and got on a EuroCity train bound for Munich and I arrived to Stief's (nickname for Stefan) apartment around 6:30. After dropping stuff off, we headed for Olympic Park and set up a Slackline. You know those straps that are used to tie down heavy loads on trucks? That's what a Slackline is, so, we Slacklined.
That's Stief:
This is me trying my hand at it:
By the next day, I could stand pretty well and even walk 4 or 5 steps. It's a pretty fun hobby that I might take up.
Jessica arrived the next day from Spain, where she'd spent a few days with her family. I got to go to the airport and pick her up. We were happy to see each other.
The Munich Airport is right next to the town of Freising. If that sounds familiar, Freising is where the Huber Brewery that appeared in my post called "Munich and Oktoberfest". Jessica and I stopped there on the way home and went to the Huber Brewery for lunch. I had a Huber Burger and Huber Fries, with a Huber Weisses Beer. Mmm.
We walked by the town square, which had colored sawdust laid down in artful patterns. This is the coat of arms for Freising:
Stief was a great guide. On Thursday evening he took us on a short walking tour. One of the stops was at a bridge over the river that runs through the English Garden. People attached boards to ropes and set them in the fast moving water to form a wave that can be ridden. Apparently Jack Johnson (famed singer/songwriter and surfer) made a stop here when he played Munich last summer.
Then we had a lighter supper by the Chinese Tower. We didn't bring our own food, but we did have some yummy sausages and beer. It was a fun atmosphere which I'd like to experience in the daytime.
The next day we bid Stief farewell and went to the train station. Our train for Prague didn't leave until 4:43 pm, so we still had time to see Munich sights. We didn't want to do that with all our stuff, so we put our things in a luggage locker.
We mainly walked through the main pedestrian zone in Munich and lunch at another beer garden, this one in the Viktualienmarkt. Walking along a sidestreet, we ran into the world famous Hofbrauhaus. It has two large rooms, which can hold a couple thousand people each. Here is one, where the origins of the Nazi Party began.
For a fee, one can purchase or rent a locker for their beer stein:
After the visit to the Hofbrauhaus, we found the trainstation and got onto our train. Being one of the first ones on, we thought that we'd be the only one's in a compartment - a very good thing on a long-distance train. Suddenly a man came in and made himself comfortable and then he stood in the corridor hanging out the window. People would squeeze by him and ask us if there was room in our compartment (3 places left). He'd answer for us, saying, "Weiter, weiter." That basically means keep going. He turned away all these people but suddenly a Catholic Sister appeared at the doorway, just as the train was about to move. We thought, "Was he going to turn her away, too?" He didn't! And we only had to deal with him for about 35 minutes, when he got off the train.
We had to switch trains at the border of Germany and the Czech Republic. Once you cross the border, you know just by looking at the buildings that you are in a different country. The buildings look drab and run-down. Once we made it to Prague, our host, Ondra, wasn't on the platform to greet us. Instead, a woman in her 50s asked us in a quiet voice, "Do you have accommodations?" "Yes!" was our immediate and firm response. A couple minutes later, Ondra showed up.
We got in at about 11 pm, thendropped our stuff off at our "accommodations" and proceeded to see the city lit up beautifully at night.
He took us first to Wenceslas Square, which is better defined as a boulevard. At the beginning of it is the National Museum.
Then he took us to the Old Town Square to view the Astronomical Clock.
And the Charles Bridge at night.
The next day (Saturday) we went to one of the highest points in Prague, which is where the castle is that the prime minister lives in.
Then down to a garden which had this weird wall sculpture.
We utilized the Metro a lot in Prague. I was amazed at how long the escalators were. Some took 3 minutes to make the trek!
That evening we went to a beer garden. British men are known to have their bachelor parties in Prague because in the long run, it's cheaper for the flight and drinks than to plan a party on their little island. We ran into the man-to-wed in the bathroom.
After that, we went up this tower to get views of the sunset and city at night.
On Sunday, we went to another castle, this one just above the river.
They grow their grapes differently there, with big sticks instead of wires between sticks.
:)
We also utilized the tram system. At this particular machine, we had put in our money and heard the change be dispensed, but no change came tumbling out. Upon further investigation, some punks had put wadded up tape inside to catch lose change. We foiled their plans and took all 56 Koruners that came out.
Typical Prague building facade.
Then we climbed a tower that resembles the Eiffel Tower. From there, we saw the Strahov Stadium. It has a capacity of 220,000 and is the training facility for Sparta Prague. It's not used for official sporting events, but large pop concerts. It's the second largest sporting complex in the world, just after the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.
On the walk down the hill, we spotted the Charles Bridge through some trees. The bridge began construction in 1537 and was the most important trade route between Eastern and Western Europe upon completion. Today, it's thronged with tourists during the day and is romantically lit and quiet at night.
I like to sample local food and I made my wish known to Ondra...the less English the place knew the better, in my opinion. Ondra took us to a local pub and there I had sauerkraut, pork, potato dumplings, red cabbage. It was tasty.
And now begins a series of unfortunate events that somehow eventually righted themselves. Jessica and I left Prague early Monday morning at 7 am. The night before, I had for some reason thought that we left at 8 am, so we prepared to get to the airport for an 8 am flight. This wasn't realized until we get to the airport (after first getting off at the wrong bus stop) and read the departure board. After 20 minutes of sign-less walking, we finally found the check-in desk, only to choose the slowest line. Finally we get our bags checked and our boarding passes and hurry to security. Security was a breeze and we're finally at the gate, 15 minutes before the departure time. They weren't even boarding the plane yet. Crisis #1 averted.
Once we got settled into our seats at the gate, I thought my pockets felt a little different than normal. I soon realized that my credit card, BahnCard, Swiss visa, and my cell phone were not in their normal home. I shot up and without saying much to Jessica, I took off on a dead sprint back to security. Perhaps the two policemen I passed thought something was weird, since I wasn't heading toward a gate, however, they just watched my fly by. I arrived at security and was directed to the supervisor, who had the tray with all my stuff in it. I grabbed it, shoved the contents into my pockets and took off on another dead sprint back to the gate where I found Jessica hurriedly looking through my backpack. The line to begin boarding had formed and we weren't locked out of our flight to Amsterdam. Crisis #2 averted.
After an uneventful flight (the best), we land in Amsterdam. We deplane and didn't have to wait long for our luggage to come on the belt. Jessica was getting the passports out of my backpack when I smelled something and asked Jessica if she smelled it too. To confirm my suspicion, I opened the suitcase and the smell hit me even harder. One bottle of wine, from Liechtenstein, had broken. Of course, it's only the red wine bottles that break and this was my luck. We dropped everything and went up to the lost/damaged baggage desk. I also mentioned that the handle had been broken, which had happened well before this trip, but I thought I'd try my luck. The lady asked for identification so I asked Jessica for my passport which she had taken out of my backpack. As luck would have it, she had left them at the luggage belt where we had discovered the broken bottle. Fortunately, the common man is inherently good and someone met her halfway, holding our passports up as if they were playing cards in a hand of poker. I'm anticipating a free piece of luggage. Crises #'s 3 and 4 averted.
I had been given instructions by our host in Amsterdam on where to go with the trains. Feeling sure that we were getting onto the right train, it never stopped at the station that we needed to get off at. Instead, it took us directly into Amsterdam Centraal Station, in the middle of town. Making contact with our host, we took a tram to where she eventually met us. Crisis #5 averted.
So finally we are in Amsterdam. But before we can go anywhere, laundry with the smell and color of red wine needs to be done. Fortunately Sarah had the equivalent of OxiClean and after a little while of soaking the whites were whiter and the colors were brighter. Crisis #3.1 averted.
And finally, after a much needed nap, we head into Amsterdam. Unfortunately for you, the reader, I took no Amsterdamian pictures so you'll have to listen/read my words.
Sarah had given us directions to the "Singelkerk", a hidden Mennonite church in Amsterdam. A hidden church means only that the church was not visible from the street, not that they necessarily had to hide their worship. We came unannounced and the caretaker was happy to drop everything and show us around. I think he likes visitors. I remember visiting here on choir tour in 2006 and I was glad to revisit, this time to pay attention to what was being said.
We then walked through the main shopping district and arrived at a recommended french fry stand called "Mannekin Pis". Their logo is just that. The fries don't taste anything like that. We had ours squirted with cheddar cheese and they were fantastic. We walked through the old town and decided to find a park bench to sit on for the afternoon and then we headed back to Sarah's place for a wonderful meal of enchiladas.
The next day (we're on Tuesday now), Jessica awoke with backache which was very similar to the one that put me out of commission for a few days at the end of May. This meant we slept until noon and luckily that was also when the rain decided to quit. She took some ibuprofen and we headed out for the day. In Amsterdam again, we went to the Van Gogh Museum which is near Vondelpaark. After that, we walked through the Blumenmarkt (Flower Market) and eventually found the tram for the ride back to Sarah's. We saw a bit of Amsterdam but we were exhausted from our times in Munich and Prague and that showed with how touristy we were.
Wednesday was the day we decided not to talk about for that was the day we were parting ways - she to America and me back to Switzerland. I double checked my flight the night before, so I knew that I was correct. Jessica was too. Our flights were both in the same terminal but my flight left an hour before hers did, so she took me to my gate and that was where we said goodbye after a wonderful six days together.
I flew British Airways to London and was to switch planes there and board one bound for Zurich. To make this story better, BA wanted me to find my way through the infamous Terminal 5 at London Heathrow. Let it be known now, Terminal 5 can rest in the shallow places where the likes of NASCAR, Britney Spears, MTV, rap music, and Czech Baggage Handlers reside. Luckily I had 3 hours between my flights to do everything. For some reason, they make you go security again even when transferring from one flight to another. Why? You don't leave a secure area, ever! This means anyone boarding a flight in London, as well as the transferees, must go through the same security. It was routine to let people who had sooner connections through the line.
Avoid this terminal at all costs:
Finally, after a well deserved British Ale, I was seated at my gate. As I was sitting down and settling, I saw a beast take off. The beast was one of the new Airbus A380's departing departing the runway. Unfortunately I couldn't get my camera until it was well away, but here's what I came up with.
The A321 we boarded was only filled with 25% capacity. Soon after we took our seats, a PA announcement came over the speakers and told us that while we had one pilot, the plane needed two to make the flight. Where could we find a pilot, hmm? Well, I knew of two others on that plane - myself and the guy next to me was a pilot for NetJets (a fractional ownership company). Instead of asking if there were any pilots on board, we waited and took off an hour and a half late with another BA pilot. I was beginning to question whether or not I would make it back to Zurich in time to make the connections I needed to make the 19:35 bus...the last bus of the night. I was pondering this question as the Swiss Alps became larger on the horizon.
I deplaned for the second time that day and quickly found the baggage carousel and snagged my backpack. I hurried toward the rail lines and found that the last train I could use was leaving in 4 minutes. As soon as I got my ticket, I sprinted down the escalator and there was the train that I climbed aboard and made it to Wattwil just in time for the last bus. Crisis #6 averted.
Congratulations,
Jon
PS - Comments have been disabled for this post. If you would like to leave a comment (you know you want to), leave it on the slideshow that's posted above.
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