Getting to Vic, Spain---What An Adventure!!

RyanAir sign and measurement device (there was a scale early in the process) saying if it fits, take it onboard. If it doesn't. pay the bag fee, or the bag doesn't go.


Everyone lined up in the appropriate line, sectioned off like theaters do before shows.

I had planned for some time to go to Vic, Spain, where we have an exchange campus, during the last weekend of October. I planned to leave Thursday morning, taking a train to Breman where I would take a RyanAir plane to Girona. From Girona, I would take a bus to Vic, and Angels, the business international coordinator, would pick me up at the bus station in central Vic. I had been communicating with Angels via e-mail and had her cellphone number.

The train part was no problem. I expected problems with RyanAir. This is an extreme discount airline, and people seem to either love it because everything goes right, or something goes wrong and it is a nightmare. I only have a couple of pictures of the RyanAir experience, so I will put them at the top of this posting. I had checked in online, which they recommend, I had my passport ready, and I made sure that my backpack was not overweight nor too big. RyanAir is really rigid about this; I saw some people unpacking suitcases and handing items to friends and relatives because their bags were too heavy or too big. After standing in line and feeling like a cow in the herd being moved around, the flight to Girona was fine. There are no boarding passes, and it is basically first come first served. I had gotten really close to the front of the line, so I was in good shape. The colors of this airline, orange and blue, are awful, but oh, well!! The flight was fine.

Angels had said to cross the street out the front door of the airport, and that the bus to Vic would be right there. No, it wasn't; there was a huge parking lot being dug and built right out front. I asked and someone directed me to the right of the building to several busses. No, this is wrong also; all of those busses are going to Barcelona. That person told me to go to the hotel and pointed to a nearby building. That was wrong too, so I went back to the airport and started all over, this time asking at the information counter. That young woman told me I had to go around the construction, which was at least 3 blocks long, to the other side, to a bus stop near the front door of the hotel. She actually drew me a map and helped me see how to get out the front door and arond the construction. So, off I went, thankful that I had allowed about an hour between the flight and the bus. I found the hotel and inquired about where the bus stop was. This was simply that I was to stand by a pole with a red sign on top of it, right on the side of the street.

So, there I stand, and here comes a somewhat-red-haired and red-bearded man, probably about 30 or so. I ask where he's from, and we have a nice though limited English conversation. He is from Italy and is going on the bus to the end of the line, 3 1/2 hours, to visit his girlfriend. He is a web journalist. He has a light green and pink backpack and what appears to be a big camera case.

Then. here comes a younger and bigger man who manages to tell us that he is from Poland, works in Madrid, is going to Vic or the other side of it (I don't remember) but that he has just been told by 2 teenagers down the street that the bus is on strike!! GREAT!! I think. Thank heavens I have Angel's phone number but it appears to be an hour trip between Girona and Vic.

I try to call Angels but it appears my phone has no service there. The three of us stand there, the appointed time of 2:45 comes and goes. I tell the Italian, who has much better English, that I will go to the hotel to see what they know about the strike, and not to let the bus go without me if it comes. This takes a couple of versions of English sentences for him to understand what is going on. I go to the hotel where the woman tells me the bus was there in the morning, she has heard nothing of a strike, and all of a sudden, she sees the bus coming. Out I run. The Polish guy is now in the bus, asking the bus driver all kinds of questions about the other side of Vic or something, and traffic is piling up behind the bus, at least 10 cars. A black man comes down the aisle of the bus, tells the Polish guy in English to ask all his questions later, get on, we are making a traffic problem. So, onto the bus go the Polish guy, the Italian guy, and me.

The Italian sits down next to the Nigerian, and I sit across the aisle from the Italian. I ask him if I can use his phone since mine evidently has no service. We try to call Angels but discover we're doing something wrong about the country code. The Nigerian guy gets into action (he is living with a relative in Girona and going to Vic; I thought he was a student at Vic), and gets the phone dialed properly. I tell Angels I am on the bus and should be there shortly about 3:30.

All is well for about 10 minutes. I am sitting there strongly regretting that I am not on my Harley---the road is windy, hilly, 2 lanes each way, beautiful country. The Italian guy's phone rings, he answers, and hands it to me---Angels is calling. She tells me that she has just been told there is a bus strike, and I tell her I heard the same thing but I am on a bus. She asks me where I am. I have no clue because there are no towns or anything, but I had just seen a sign that said Vic Central, a certain number of kilometers. OK, she will wait for me.

Again, all seemed to be going well. It wasn't, and it didn't. After another half hour or so, the bus pulls off the road into a parking lot, up on a hill, in the middle of nowhere other than the presence of a gas station with an attached restaurant. The bus driver announces "Vic" and the Nigerian, the Polish guy, about a dozen other people, and I get off. People get their suitcases out from underneath the bus. I just have my backpack so I walk toward the gas station wondering how on earth this is the main bus station.

The Nigerian guy tumbled to what was going on before I did. This was not Vic; something about the bus strike prevented our bus from actually going into town. I call Angels, and since I thought the Nigerian dude knew where Vic was, I have him talk to her. It turns out at that point that he had never been to Vic, and he was talking to fast in British English that Angels was getting nothing. Furthermore, we couldn't really tell her where we were other than the name of the gas station. Finally, we ask 2 young Spanish girls if they can tell Angels in Spanish where we are. Fast conversation, the young woman hangs up, and tells us that her boyfriend is coming to pick up the 2 young women, and the Nigerian guy and I are welcome to go into town with them. She has told Angels this, and Angels agreed. The Nigerian guy and I start talking, and he clearly states how important he thinks "knowing the language" is. It turns out that he is an illegal immigrant from Nigeria, and there is something about he will have to live with his cousin for 3 years before he can get citizenship of any type. Oh, brother. He can't get work for all sorts of reasons. I wonder why he left Nigeria illegally but figure I had better not ask.

The boyfriend shows up in a very small work truck. The back hatch won't open. One Spanish girl climbs in the back seat, with the other then sitting on her lap. The Nigerian climbs in, and their luggage takes up the rest of the back seat. The Polish guy has disappeared. I get in the front passenger seat. We take off and I discover that this young man should be driving in the Grand Prix or something. We were going way too fast, driving way too close to the cars in front of us, and I have my feet about going through the floor of the truck. We pass the Polish guy who is walking to town (we saw a sign that said it was 2 kilometers) but we have no space for him. He has a camera out and seems to be taking pictures during the hike.

We finally pull up to the bus station, after fast trips around at least 2 roundabouts in town. The Nigerian dude tells me to call my friend. I think maybe this is some kind of thing he and Angels had said and I don't know about, so I call her. She tells me she is at the bus station but does not see me. While talking, we each walk out to the edge of the sidewalk and see each other on opposite ends of the bus station. To say I was glad to see her is one of the understatements of my life!! I didn't realize it until later, but when she heard there was a bus strike and she knew I was on a bus, she worried that I was on another bus that would have come by the bus stop at about the same time, but would have taken me to a faraway cit in the wrong direction!! So, she was relieved that she didn't have to drive a long distance to retrieve me from the whole wrong place!

Now, I ask you----how many times in my life could I possibly end up needing the help of an Italian, a Polish man, a Nigerian, 2 Spanish girls of about high school age, and the boyfriend of one of them, to make it into town?? Angels was surprised and relieved I was laughing instead of being angry. At that point, the whole thing just seemed like some kind of situation comedy, the Lucille Ball Show, or something!! And I don't have a single picture of any of this!!

Trains

The European rail system is fantastic, in my opinion. You can go anywhere in relative comfort and if you buy your ticket ahead of time especially, the prices are very reasonable. Since I will be here 4 months, I bought a DeutschBahn railroad card for 25 euros, and it gives me a discount. This train is actually the one I took in France. It has 2 stories, as you can see from the steps at the top of the picture. The seats are comfortable, and I've noticed that blue seems to be the universal color for some reason. Clean, comfortable, efficient, and nice.

This is one of the newer German trains I have been on. This one was one I took coming back from Amsterdam. I always travel in second class coaches, which is certainly fine. Almost every train car has seats going in both directions---about half the car faces one way, and half the other. The seats with tables are scattered so that there are usually 4 (2 on each side of the aisle) spaced out through one car. There are usually plugins near the tables and people often work on their computers. There is good light, generally, and this one has more overhead storage than some do. Some trains have small rooms, generally seating 6, that you can enter and shut the door. This is really good for families and small groups.

I'm at the point where I'd rather go by train than fly. I can get up and move around, there is more space, and I am not sitting and wasting time waiting in an airport for hours and hours.

I hadn't found this type of board in the Bielefeld station but now know where it is. You look for the time of your train, the number, and then you can see how many cars are second class, where they are on the train, and which direction the train will be going. That lets you board an appropriate car. It is also possible, for 4 euros per ticket, to reserve seats. I did that when Heidi and Pete were coming so that we could sit together, and so that we could have window seats where possible. If you also get seats around one of the tables, you can tak with each other, though someone is going backwards. I do not do well going backwards and have learned to check the board to see which way the train will be going. I guess my mental map isn't good enough to automatically know which direction I should face so that I will be going forward!

There are at least 3 ways to buy tickets, with varying costs according to the method. Lots of people buy tickets from the machines. For example, your plane comes in from whereever, and you go to the machine, put in the city to which you want to go, the hour of the day you are traveling, and it tells you a price. Put in your credit card, get your ticket, and go. Tickets can also be purchased online with a credit card, you can print off the receipt on your computer printer, and hand that with your credit card (for identity proof) to the conductor. The most expensive way, though I've used this occasionally for complicated trips, is to go to the main train station and ask for help. I've gotten the same woman both times I have done this, and she has been really helpful and pleasant. Dogs can travel for free on trains, so Brandi has accompanied me on train trips a couple of times.

One thing about train travel is that you have to be paying attention. Frequently, changing trains is involved and you need to watch the time and listen and look for the right station. I do think if you fell asleep, for example, you could end up in the wrong place and the wrong country!! Once you know how to read the schedule, you can easily spot how much time you have between trains, which platform you'll come in on and which you need to get to to leave on the next train, etc. Most trains only stop for a very few minutes, and you had better be ready to get on or get off. Most trains I've been on have done fairly well for schedules, though the one from Dortmund last weekend was 17 minutes late.

There is a wide variety of train stations and services offered, ranging from really large stations offering a variety of stores and fresh flowers, to a few that are simply stations almost in the middle of nowhere with no services whatsoever. Many trains have separate areas in certain cars where people can put their bicycles. This works really great for people who want to go out into the country to ride. Every train I have been on has had the "WC" or water closet, with a varying degree of clean air. Many trains have dining cars. The ICE trains (Inter-City Express) trains travel the same tracks as the regional trains. They are newer (more streamlined and bullet-shaped) and are faster because they don't stop at all the places the regional trains stop. They also, however, cost more. The time for a regional train to get here from Dusseldorf (the airport I flew into from the USA) was close to 2 hours, and the time for the ICE train was closer to 1 1-2 hours. Several of the German here got a chuckle from my language. I called that train an ice train, as in ice cubes. Given the German pronunciation of the alphabet, they call it the EEE SAY AAA train!

Misc. Amsterdam and Rotterdam pictures

I put up 2 of the same pictures in a previous blog, accidentally. Here is a picture of the other side of the bedroom of our Rotterdam room.

The following are some of my favorite pictures that for whatever reason, I hadn't put up before!

I just loved this little Dutch shoe boat!

The guide on our canal tour boat said this is one of the most-photographed points in Amsterdam. Supposedly, if you are angled just right, you can see 7 bridges.

Our tour boat, with the bike parking lot across the water. You can see 3 levels of parking, and there was another at the water level. Unbelievable....

Aren't the window hangings beautiful?

This tree was along a canal in Rotterdam. I like its low branches and spreading structure.

This building was one of several along a street in Rotterdam. They had obviously been redone, and they looked wonderful. Notice how large the fake front is at the top. We noticed that many of these houses had a hook near the very top, probably to serve as a base for a pulley to pull furniture up. Think about those steps in Amsterdam---there would be no way to get furniture up those. So, through the window.....

Another sprawling tree

Sandi and I found this guy along a street in Rotterdam during one of our walks. There was no sign so we didn't quite know who he was or what he was doing....

An obviously small truck, perhaps for cooking?? one wheel in front.

We found these 3 bunnies during the same walk. We were not near a school that we knew of, so I assume they were simply decorating the little green space. Aren't they just cute?

This was the weirdest thing. This was along a canal in Rotterdam, I believe. A tree trunk and its roots had been cut, and the root structure, 4 pieces, had been mounted into pipes. It made for weird modern art, I suppose!

Amsterdam was built with concentric circles of canals. Rotterdam, while having a lot of water and canals, is arranged differently. This map was on a large board near a park, and it maps out bicycle routes, with distances.

Brandi in her travel crate, ready for another adventure!

Bicycles---styles, sizes, colors, purposes.....

When I was a freshman in high school, my town (pop. 3500 in the middle of KS) opened a new high school, 1.1 miles north of our house. My parents told me I could walk to school or ride a bike. I had what was new at the time---a 10 speed Schwinn with "drop" handlebars. I rode my bike to school all 4 years, uphill against a north wind in the morning, though I will admit it was downhill against a south wind, usually, in the afternoon. I became rather proud of the fact that I was the only student in the whole high school (400) who did this when one boy teased me about it 1 day and I had a quick and snappy comeback. As a young adult, I would participate in 100 mile rides (century rides) for fun and to earn a stupid patch to sew on a jean jacket. Later, I got smart and moved up to Harleys......! However, my interest in bikes remains, and Amsterdam was REALLY the place to see them. These pictures are from both Amsterdam and Rotterdam, with Amsterdam bikes first.....
Sandi and I took a boat ride on the harbor and through one ring of the canals. This parking lot had basically 3 levels of parked bikes. This would be like having an entire football field crammed with bicycles.

The lower level of that parking lot above the canal....."Houston, we have a problem!"

This was taken outside one of the locations of the University of Amsterdam


At first I thought this was a delivery bicycle, but then saw a similar one with two kids in the box. As an added bonus, you get to see Brandi's airline travel crate and her rear end!!

The windshield on this bike intrigued me. It serves as a windbreak for the hild; there is a child's seat right behind it, and the leather piece hanging below the windshield covers the child's legs. I don't think I have seen anything like this in the US.

A lot of the bikes had heavy, sturdy plastic baskets like this, mounted on a heavy-duty rack. By far, most bicycles were basic black.

This young woman on a "Sting-Ray" bike cracked me up.

I saw two of these in Amsterdam but don't believe I had ever seen one before. The blue bike is a bike built for two, with a child in front and an adult in the back. Note the lower seat and handlebars in the front.

This bike would carry two children, one in front above the handlebars and one in the back. That is really working. Also note that the fork is flat for easy step-through.

Another delivery bike or bike for taking kids; this one was covered to keep out the leaves, dirt, or rain. Notice that there are 2 fairly large wheels supporting the box.

Another accidental duplicate---I will figure out later how to remove it!

This bike for 4 was in rough shape with flat tires and so forth. The white paper on the door asked for donations to repair the bike!! Sandi and I didn't bite on that request.

Anoher box bike. These had stands on both sides so the bike just stayed completely upright when parked.

The small tires and high seat made me wonder how old the person who rode this was. Teenaged boy?? Doing tricks on it?

These bikes were short from front to back and must fold up or something. There were expensive, as I recall, like 700 euros which would be about $1k. They were in a bicycle shop window.

Never in my life have I seen bicycle storage sheds like these. These were in Rotterdam. Amsterdam had more bicycles (EVERYWHERE!!!), but the area where these were in Rotterdam was more likely somewhat permanent residents as opposed to college kids.

Amsterdam in particular was interesting to me because there were bike lanes that were wider than the sidewalks. It really is a biking city. Given the narrow streets and the lack of space for parking a car, I can see how having a bike would be the way to go in this city. Rotterdam was a much newer city (thanks to bombing during the war) and seemed much more like being in Chicago or something. Amsterdam definitely has more charm!

Well, I guess I got enough box bikes!! This has a raised seat for the child and a seatbelt. The green child's bike was one of very few we saw, for some reason. Given the prevalence of bikes here, learning to ride must really be a big deal in Amsterdam!

Our Rooms in Amsterdam and Rotterdam----contrasts

I hadn't really meant to start this blog with the bathroom, but here it is!! This was the SMALL bathroom of our little apartment in Amsterdam. This room wasn't but about a yard wide. The sink was the length of my hand, from the front of the sink to the back. This was obviously an add-on remodel or something. To get to the toilet, you first walked through the shower area, which meant if either of us showered, then shoes were necessary....

The shower--about 1/4 of the way from the right edge, you can see the door coming into the room. So, bingo, youäre in the shower space! The shower floor was slightly lower than the rest of the floor.

Our room had a double bed and a twin bed. Sandi took the twin, below the one main window, and Brandi (who does not normally sleep on my bed but thought she was entitled to here) and I shared the double bed. Sandi is working on knitting her unique 1-fingered mittens.

Brandi checked out after all the adventures. She was in her airline carry bag while I carried her up 4 flights (at least---the hike truly seemed endless) to our apartment in the sky.

The dining and kitchen area of the apartment. It was nicely stocked. We found out (too late for our first meal there!) that instant coffee, tea, etc. were available.

Brandi's and my bed on the left, Sandiäs on the right. The slanted windows were absolutely FILTHY when we got there----dirt and bird poop. The second night we were there, we got back somewhat early, and while Sandi showered, I took the sponge-scratchy pad from the kitchen sink, put dish soap on it, and cleaned all the windows. I had discovered that they literall would swing around so that the outside could be on the inside. This was not the best window-washing job I ever did, but it really improved the light and the sights! I threw that pad away; there was a new one below the sink for the next people.

As you can see, the furniture collection was rather eclectic---castoff 19XXs, I'm sure. However, the place definitely had personality and wasn't the same old Holiday Inn or whatever, regardless of whereever you are. We enjozyed it, and it wasn't expesive, either.

This, however, was the challenge. I don't clearly remember now how many levels of apartments there were, but from the outside, I believe we were on the 4th floor. The stairs were narrom and both of us held the rails and walked VERY carefully. Man, if you are elderly in one of these places, you must just stay there forever or something!

From that apartment-type setting, we then went to Rotterdam where we had this hotel room. The bathroom there is abut the largest I've ever seen, bigger than my bedroom or my kitchen and bathroom combined here in Bielefeld. I am saving some pictures of the bathroom for my upcoming treatise on toilets....

Another view of our Rotterdam room. The plant on the windowshelf is a live plant, something I'm not sure I've ever had before. The acoustic tile was something I wondered about also; I haven't seen that type of tile in the US for a long time.
This was definitely an older hotel and rooms but was well-located and appropriately priced. One biggy was that there were 2 or 3 computers available, free, in the lobby. Of course, while I was using one, some foreign, black man came in and got into an argument with the slight Asian man who was at the desk. The black guy even went behind the counter after the Asian. By then things were loud, other people came, and I asked the breakfast hostess to call the police. The Asian man had tried to do that when the black fellow went behind the counter. The black guy finally left, and I never did learn what the issue was about.