We have arrived safely in Germany. My initial impression of the country has been mixed. Within the first two hours, the vaunted German efficiency and order has both shone through and been conpicuously absent. Our flight got in at 7 am, so after a very short night (stupid time zones) of exactly no sleep, we faced Germany. My first glimpse of the country out the window of the airplane was green: something that looked like a huge forest preserve. Plus one for Deutschland. We got off the plane and found our way to the baggage carousel. Along the way we had to go through a very short line in the “Passport Control” station. The agent took our passports. Where are you going?” “Cologne” “How long are you going to be here?” We had talked about this earlier but hadn’t decided what approach to take. We could lie and say we were coming for a month as tourists, because Americans can stay in Germany for up to 90 days without a visa. But that would be lying. Or we could be truthful and say I had a job in Cologne, but then we were worried that we’d be asked for some kind of paperwork we didn’t know we were supposed to have. There was a pause. “A few months,” joe mumbled. “Four months!?!” the agent exclaimed, looking worried. I decided on the truth tactic. “Actually, two years. I have a job in Cologne.” He still looked a little dubious, but stamped our passports, reminded us that is was good for 90 days before we’d need a visa, and wished us a nice day. Plus one for Deutschland.
We arrived at the baggage carousel to find two of our big duffel bags waiting for us, next to a Great Dane in an enormous crate. Apparently the oversized luggage had been brought in first because of the dog. Then we waited. And waited. And waited. A bunch of luggage eventually came out, but when it was all taken, maybe a quarter of the people from our flight (including us) still didn’t have their bags. So we waited some more. An hour and a half after getting off the plane, a woman from the airline announced that our luggage was in a different location and we needed to follow her. And sure enough, there it all was, lined up patiently on the floor for us, next to a baggage carousel on the other side of the airport. Minus at least one for D. We loaded it all on two luggage carts (free: plus one) and followed the signs to the train station, which was down a level. No elevators, but the signs seemed to indicate that the carts could be taken on the escelators. After rearranging the largest duffel to fit along the stairs, I ventured on, with Joe behind me. The wheels lock unless the handle is pushed down, so the carts actually stay put. The smaller duffel toppeled off Joe’s cart and hit me in the back of the knees, but no immediate harm done. However, that may have distracted me… I’m not quite sure what happened, maybe I wasn’t pushing the handle down, but when my cart hit the bottom, it stopped and I fell on my butt behind it. The small duffel and then Joe’s cart were stacked up behind me, but because I was half under the cart and the escalator was moving underneath me, I couldn’t get up. I started laughing. After a few very long seconds that Joe didn’t find so funny, I was able to pull myself up and exit the escalator (although I think I’m going to have a bruise on my rump later).
We found the train station and I left Joe with the bags and got in what I hoped was the line for tickets. The actual exchange with the agent lasted less than a minute and I had two tickets to Seigburg on the 9:09 ICE train (stands for InterCity Express, these are Germany’s high speed trains). Definite plus one there. That gave us about 15 minutes to find the platform. I called Lorenz along the way from a pay-phone. I was proud of myself for figuring that one out, although it didn’t take much. After a minute of dumb staring, I punched in the number and stuck in a 1 Euro coin. Some weird buzzing noises and I was talking to Lorenz (plus one for still having pay phones, particularly ones that are easy to use). He promised to meet us on the platform in Seigburg. We had to navigate another escalator, but going up proved to be without incident. We got to the platform with about 5 minutes to spare. The train arrived and, amid hords of rushing business travelers, we determined from the very curt conductor that this was the right train and with second class tickets, we needed to be in one of the cars further back. But the train was about to leave! (Honestly, in the station less than two minutes.) So we’re running down the platform with these huge luggage carts. Another conductor guy gives us a dirty look but indicates that we should get on. The doors are closing. I climb on with a bag, Joe’s standing on the platform literally throwing our 50 lb bags into the train, one after the other. This was probably the worst bit of the day, but we did get on with all our luggage, so I guess this one’s a draw.
Joe looking nervous as our train pulls in (with good reason, turns out).
We moved our bags into the cabin, but all the seats were full, so we ended up piling everything at the back and standing the whole way. We were clearly in the way, but people just politely stepped around us on their way to the bathroom or the coffee bar, and even the conductor punched our ticket without further comment. One good part of not knowing the language is that you can’t understand what people are yelling at you. Luckily, we were getting off at the first stop, so we were out of the way before the mass exodus at Cologne. During the 40 minute ride, we got a glimpse of the surrounding countryside. Not much more than a glimpse, partly because the tracks have to be very flat for the train to go so fast, so there are a lot of tunnels and high banks along the way, and partly because we were standing and the windows were at seat level. But I got a few glimpses of quaint towns with tall church spires, patchwork fields, a few cows, lots of trees, and even a little castle! We got got off the train without incident and met Lorenz. He helped us drag our bags to his Smart car. It’s the 4 seat version, but still wasn’t big enough to hold everything. So Joe and a couple bags went in a cab and Lorenz and I followed to our new apartment.
The apartment has two levels. The small kitchen and bathroom are on the second floor of the house, with the bedroom and living room up a very small spiral staircase under the roof. So the usable space is rather less than the actual 70 m^2, but we do have the entire top floor and there are lots of big windows. As promised, it is fully furnished, probably because it would be impossible for people to move their own furniture up to the top floor. It is very clean, and the stuff is nice, although the whole place has the feel of a summer cottage: kind of rustic and a little bit out of date.
Lorenz took us around the corner (literally) to a little supermarket so we’d have some food and then left us to shower and nap. He came back at 4 and took us to the local office to register that we were living in the town (everyone in Germany, foreigners and Germans alike, have to keep the government up-to-date on where they live). The office was in the Rathous (court house) and we walked through a large mall to get to it. Then we went to a photo store in the mall to get passport photos (which we’d brought, but the size is different in Europe… grrr) and then to the bank to get an account and to T-mobile to get phone and internet in our apartment (all also in the mall). We should get phone service next week, but they were going to have to check and see whether DSL was available or not. I shudder to think what will happen to Joe if it isn’t.
We were both still very tired and kind of dazed, and glad when Lorenz dropped us back at our apartment. Unfortunately, we couldn’t get in. I had to go downstairs and ask our landlord, Frau Pogzeba, to come up and show us how to work the key. Luckily, she was very nice about it. She’d even left a vase of fresh flowers from the garden on the windowsill in the kitchen. We had pasta and very bland spaghetti sauce for our first dinner, along with the roll I’d saved from breakfast on the plane. It was a little pathethic, but at least it was food. We watched an episode of House on the computer (after finding our plug adaptor and crossing our fingers when plugging it in to the 220V AC for the first time) and went to bed. In Germany. This is crazy.
Our first meal in Germany... spaghetti.
