Europe 2022 - Day 21 - Streitberg
Has it really been three weeks?
That’s the things about travel - it feels both long and short at the same time. I’ve sort of gotten into a groove and on one hand, every day flies by and I can’t believe I’ve been here that long. On the other hand, my old life (too dramatic?) feels like forever ago, as if that me never existed.
So Julia and Leonie had to work again (though they say it was more of a half-day kinda thing), so it was on Dani to show me around. On the advice of Julia, he took me to Streitberg, where there is a cave known as Binghoehle. (It was a small cave that was excavated (and properly, I might add, with prehistoric artifacts carefully cataloged and preserved) to allow people to walk through it. After a short tour in the front of the cave, we were led to our own devices. And we stayed down there for quite some time, marveling at the wonder of nature and also saddened by the destruction of certain stalactites and mites by a few bad apples. It was a lovely cool 9° Celsius (that’s 48° Fahrenheit), and can I just go on a side note here?
The weather of Germany (at least the parts I have been to so far) is somewhat similar to Oregon. Therefore, I assume they have the same weather tolerance as us. So every time I go out in shorts and a T-shirt, someone inevitably asks me, “Where is your coat?” to which I reply, “I don’t have one, and don’t need one.” Then they look at me like I have done something wrong by saying such a thing. They shake their heads in bewilderment. I have a flannel, and if I need it, I use it. But it hasn’t happened for a while. So before we went into the cave, the same thing happened.
The tour guide said, “Where is your jacket?”
“I have a shirt if I need it, but I probably won’t.”
“But... it’s cold. It’s 9° year round!”
“Yes! And I can’t wait! It’s like a balmy 13° out!”
*Looks at me like I am absolutely insane.*
So, now I’ll show you some cave pics! (Let’s keep it clean here, folks.)
Also, this is a cave where bats live (so, a batcave?), but it was the wrong time of the year, as they arrive for the winter. Yet there was one solo bat, and apparently he had a place that he liked to be. So here’s what one bat in a cave looks like:
Ha! No? Sigh... Fine. Here:
We came out of the back of the cave, and after a small hike, hit a castle (or at least the remnants of one) with a gorgeous view of the valley.
And look at these two handsome fellas:
After the hike, we got back down the hill and went to the small village of Ebermannstadt for some ice cream (I have had so much ice cream in this country) and then back to Julia’s. We had to be back because tonight was the night for kerwa (which is Franconian dialect word for kirchweih, which is a type of festival). The area is known for its many ponds/streams, etc. and many folks raise/catch carp. I’ve had many of the fishes in my life, but not carp. And I’m always a bit hesitant about animal products in foreign countries, not because I’m concerned I will get sick, but more because sometimes various preparations do not sit with my palate or stomach. Try some lutefisk or surströmming and you might know of what I speak.
So Julia, Leonie, family and friends headed to the local restaurant where this carpfest was taking place. We had to preorder the carp so the restaurant knew how many to get and prepare. They were filleted in half. It was a bit jarring to see a whole fish on my plate at first.
But f**k, it was delicious. I got the peppered version, and it was crispy with a fried chicken-type coating. I’m salivating right now thinking about it. As the dozen of us sat around BS’ing, I started talking to Oleg, who recently joined his wife Ira from the Ukraine. He starts German language lessons soon and also did not know English, but thanks to the magic of Google Translate, we found ourselves having a pretty good conversation!
Then it was next door to the two-story dance club that hadn’t seen a remodel in some years, and where the old folks dance on the weekends. There’s a lot I’ll try, but dancing is not one of them. It’s not that I lack rhythm, it’s just I always feel like an idiot when I dance. And I know people (and signs that women named Karen have in their home that) say “Dance like no one’s watching!”
I don’t dance when no one’s watching either.
Didn’t matter though - we all had fun, had drinks, and partied the night away.
