Sarly goes to Köln

We're on the train to Praha (Prague) now, winding along the Rhine and passing through steep hills with rows and rows of hand-cultivated vineyards surrounding quaint, beautiful villages.

Our taste of Köln (Cologne) was brief but satisfying. We checked into our small bed-and-breakfast near Barbarossaplatz around nine Wednesday morning, ready to sleep but still having the entire day ahead of us. The sun had never set during our flight from New York to Düsseldorf...the horizon glowed red as the sun dipped down and the sky darkened, but it burned that same brilliant red until we landed and the sun rose again. It was weird. I'm not sure how the Alaskans handle it.

The German train system seemed relatively simple to navigate until we discovered that there were multiple stations with similar names and we had jumped off three stops too early. After waylaying some poor locals and testing their English, we managed to figure out the proper train and clamber aboard, but the exit door was broken and we were forced to switch cars. I pushed into the next car and found it quite overcrowded: turning back, I saw the first hilarious incident of our trip - Carly, stuck with the car's doors trying to shut between her and her backpack. I don't think I'll forget that face.

"You're stuck," I said, dumbly.

"I know,"  she said, not breaking eye contact, unable to budge or even twist to asses the situation.

I grabbed her straps and with a few solid yanks she was clear and we were off to explore Köln, meeting our host Dieter on the way to drop off our packs. The first thing that struck us about this region of Germany was how orderly everything is, how efficient, and how clean. The architecture is pleasant, matching the landscape, and many of the buildings displayed window boxes to compliment the trees interspersed around and amongst the towns. The large amount of greenery gave the air a clear crispness that instantly refreshed us. 

Köln is nestled stoutly against the Rhine, with some of its old architecture still remaining. Much of the city was destroyed during the bombings of World War II, and much of the new developments are flat-fronted, pastel-colored buildings lacking personality. It appeared to me to be a rather fashionable place (but what do I know); the people wore tight, tailored shirts with long skinny pants and dramatic hairstyles: flat tops and pompadours for the guys and pixie cuts and tight ponytails for the gals.

As we neared the Rhine river towards the center of the city, the tall retail stores lining the old cobblestone path broke away to reveal a giant cobbled square. On the river side of the square, an incomprehensible cathedral rose from the bricks like a disproportionate hallucination. I had been looking the other way when we first entered the square, so that when I turned at Carly's exclamation I was hit with the entirety of its massiveness all at once. Everything about it stood in stark contrast to the modern stores beneath it: the burnt, blackened stones; the staggered, ornate spires; the wise and sympathetic saints, watching over their city with stony vigilance.

To describe the intensity and MASSIVENESS of the cathedral would be impossible. Nothing about it was to scale with the rest of the city - it seemed to have been dropped in from ancient space, burnt and scorched by the heat of the atmosphere and forever stretching upwards towards the eternal sky. Gargoyles barked from its parapets and beggars crouched at its doors. The tops of the city's buildings barely reached the arc of its doorways, and its broad width and depth was disguised by the incredible upward sweep of its spires; up, up, up, and when you think you should see the top, more spires appeared and continued to draw the entire structure farther and farther from earth until the whole building seemed tall and narrow and impossibly airy amongst the heavy, broken clouds. Inside, the expanse of its stained windows, the delicate detail of its sculpted relics, and the solemnity of old saints' tombs are not really explicable - it was more of an emotional experience evicted by the devotion of a past age.

After that experience the rest of the tour seemed a bit trite - but we finished out the day beside the Rhine with fine dining: sausage, sauerkraut, and beer.

Sarly goes to New York

Well, we're in Europe!

On the seven-hour flight over, I typed up a summation of our last two days in New York. Six hours in, I realized it had turned into the first draft of a book and promptly scolded my overly ambitious side before cutting it down to bloggable size.

So, in a nutshell, this is what's up:

Carly and I just arrived in Europe, and we'll be here for the next month. We booked our flights out of New York City to save money and were kindly given buddy passes to fly standby from Cincinnati to  JFK. Those of you who use buddy passes know the dangers: full flights, delayed flights, overbooked flights, and busy ticket agents can all leave you stranded on the wrong side of the shaky little wind tunnel that acts as a red carpet for the more privileged passengers boarding the plane. Okay, so they aren't exactly more privileged, but they aren't the cheap kids hitchhiking their way to the edge of the big pond. At one point I joked about climbing into the wheel wells as we sat waiting to win the seat lottery, and Carly laughed. Flying standby makes you wish crazy things.

Everything went smoothly, and we ended up arriving in the Big Apple on Sunday night, two days ahead of time. With all that time to kill, we took a walking tour of Manhattan on Monday through a torrential downpour with raincoats that funneled all liquid onto our pants and only partially kept it off our shirts. The locals all used umbrellas, and had dry pants and dry shirts. Huh - note to self. Buy an umbrella.

But even in the rain, New York is big, bright, and delicious. Superman and Ironman watch over the city from massive billboards amongst the various advertisements and random video screens. Cafe Habana near SoHo served us roasted corn on the cob slathered in mayonnaise and topped with cotija cheese and a streak of chili powder  - an explosion of taste set off by lime and definitely the best corn I've ever had! We saw a few very eccentric persons (one man in six-inch platforms and diamond-slashed tights), but for the most part the city is filled with everyday people from every ethnicity wearing everything from suits to sweats. In Times Square, the Late Show with David Letterman offered us free seats in the audience, and despite the fact Carly's curls were going adorably wild, we decided the sodden look was not quite what we had imagined for our national television debut and politely declined. We found a shop with thirty-dollar mechanical pencils and two-thousand dollar rings: we found another shop with reasonable prices and simple journals that found new homes with us.

Sonya and Franz graciously hosted us during our two-night stay - the first of many such saints on this trip. She is from the mountains of Kentucky and he is a native to New York City: the story of how God brought them together kept us fascinated for hours. Their apartment is adorable and their hospitality humbling! They let us sleep in their living room and kept us well-fed and watered; both physically and spiritually. Eventually, they will be planting a church in the Bronx: their steadfast commitment to the Light is encouraging to see in such a difficult place.

I don't fully know what to expect from this foray through Europe. As of now, I'd say I'm anticipating a fantastic cultural experience filled with history and adventure, marked by realizations of how spiritually dark Europe has become juxtaposed with flashes of light from our multiple missionary hosts. Seeing as we just met last fall, I know I will be learning a lot more about Carly and the blessing she is as a friend (she's already saved my sandwiches from being left behind and started the process of teaching me to really understand the delicate discipline of taste).

We landed in Dusseldorf early this morning: we took the train to Cologne (Köln) and are staying the night here before embarking on the nine-hour trip to Prague (Praha). Hopefully I can stay disciplined enough to post every few days...but don't hold your breath. ;-)