Swedish Aachen

July 11, 2016:

I had made my train reservations in advance to avoid having to take ten million of them to get to my destination, and I seemed to have worked out the train system, but it involves a lot of running around the train station looking for monitors listing the platform numbers/running past every platform in search of the right one. I only had one connection to make, and although my first train was running 20 minutes late by the time we got to Düsseldorf, by some miracle, my connection was also late. A young girl and her father asked me, in German, if we were at the Aachen West station, and I felt really proud that I could understand AND tell them yes because I knew where I was. I made it to Aachen only 20 minutes later than I expected, and Jan, a fellow Hamiltonian who also happens to be the only Belgian I know, and who was also happened to be in Europe visiting his family during my trip, was waiting for me. It was such a relief to see someone I knew.

My original plan had been to spend two days in Cologne (Köln), but Aachen (or Aix-la-Chapelle) was only an hour beyond that, and it was an hour from Jan's parents' home in Belgium. It turned out to be a really great suggestion.

We stopped for lunch at a restaurant where I ordered a baked potato with cheese and mushrooms, like every reasonable girl from South-Western Ontario would be wont to do, but apparently this was the most German meal I could have ordered, on the authority of my Belgian friend. We played a game of trying to figure out where the tourists walking by were from. The only one I managed to guess was because a Dutch man in the group was wearing his socks very high up on his legs. Jan didn't think this was a thing. It probably isn't, but I guessed right so...

The main attraction in Aachen is the Dom (Cathedral) which was founded by Charlemagne, the Holy Roman Emperor, who ruled over large parts of Europe from Aachen. The medieval German kings were crowned there for 600 years, and there are some important relics that people still do pilgrimages to come and see. We went in and found a French brochure which gave us some vague information with a map that didn't seem to correspond with the structure we were in. There were no English brochures. We noticed an English tour group approaching the back of the Cathedral where we assumed Charlemagne's Shrine might be, so we attempted to blend in, hoping that we didn't need tickets. When they asked to see our tickets, we were typically Canadian: "Oh! We needed tickets? Oh, I'm so sorry. We didn't know!" Later in the day, there was a Belgian couple that tried to do the same thing to a German tour.

We were keen to see Charlemagne's Shrine and whatever other treasures they might be hiding behind the gate, so we went to the Tourist Information centre and asked about tours (speaking Flemish with a German accent was an effective communication strategy). They told us English tours were only offered at 2pm, so we'd just missed it. Jan asked about French tours and they scoffed at us. That was what the French brochures were for, I guess. They did have a German tour coming up at 3:30pm, they said, and Jan said that at least we could see the relic and he could translate for me, so we bought tickets and went in search of something to entertain us for the next half hour.

We opted to troll tourists.

They were all taking photos of this extremely bizarre fountain. There was a bench directly in front of it, so we sat there and took selfies so that no one else could take pictures. Hahaha we're hilarious.

In spite of warning looks from Jan, I also made quiet Hitler jokes. (Just to clarify so that you don't think I'm a terrible person, dear Reader, these were not anti-Semitic jokes. Those are disgusting. These were jokes about what a sad horrible man Hitler was.) After several days of not really talking to anyone I was bursting with stories and having the opportunity to tell them fired me up. I was like a little ball of energy bouncing around.

During the tour, I got a little pamphlet in English with some of the information that would be covered during the tour. Jan would occasionally take a break from listening intently to tell me that the tour guide was still talking about the marble columns and explaining that they had been dragged over the Alps or something. I have some knowledge about architecture thanks to my friend, Arthur, and his world class tour of Caen and Normandy, and because of the book Pillars of Light by Jane Johnson, but I wasn't particularly interested. The only new learning for me was about the Franks and Germany during the 12th century. I was curious about the Wolf's Doors that were mentioned several times in the French brochure and on the English information sheet, but no one explained the legend that was supposed to be associated with them, so I still don't know. Now that I've broken the fourth wall, I'm going to invite anyone who discovers this mystery to please comment and let me know. It will probably bother me forever.

Jan was floored by the depth and details of the questions that the tour participants were posing to the tour guide. They were just ridiculous things to ask or to want to know (as a teacher, there are no inane questions, as a fellow tourist, there definitely are). It reminded me of the education system in France where students are expected to become extreme experts in all the details associated with a broad topic. I didn't learn much about the Belgian education system from Jan (although I don't know if math is the same way in France, and that is his area of specialization) but he seemed fascinated to learn about the French system, so I imagine it's different.

We had a beer at a terrace and noticed a lot of people were flocking to the square in front of the Town Hall that had been empty when we passed only a short time before. Curious, we followed the crowd, which usually turns out well for everyone.

Lo and behold! The King and Queen of Sweden who were announcing that Aachen will be the location of the World Equestrian Festival in 2017. Sweden was the partner country this year, so they announced it? Everything was a little uncertain for me. Jan was translating again. What I do know is that the marching band played ABBA while some guys rode around on horses wearing Viking helmets. I'm certain it was borderline offensive to the people of Sweden because it was just a parade of Swedish stereotypes, but the King and Queen were cool with it, so who am I to harsh their mellow? I cherished the opportunity to do a Mindy Kaling dance to Take a Chance on Me.

A woman started giving me the death stare. I pointed it out to Jan who had also noticed. I thought it was funny. He thought we should move to another part of the crowd, and I started to agree with him when I realized that she watched me the entire time I walked away. Hatred of North Americans is a thing, I think. Or maybe I was just too cheerful to be in Germany.

The icing on the cake of this glorious Swedish moment, was that the Germans also wanted to share their culture, and so we were regaled with German folk dancing for approximately 10 000 hours.

I was spared by not being tall enough to see over the crowd, so Jan recorded this video for me so that I wouldn't feel left out (I did not).

My train back to Cologne was leaving in about an hour, so we found a restaurant to have a snack before dinner. Truthfully, this was my real dinner. Jan didn't want to spoil the dinner his mum was making him.

Inevitably, I missed my first train. It really would have done no harm to wait for the next high-speed train that was coming in a half hour, but I had such a panic about missing trains that I hastily said goodbye and got on the one that was leaving in five minutes. Both trains would've arrived in Cologne around the same time. No time to reflect! Gotta go!

And then I awkwardly sat and waved at Jan from the train for a full five minutes.

The first glimpse of the city of Cologne through the glass walls of the Hauptbanhof was the Cathedral.

It was imposing and elaborate and beautiful. I was excited to see it again in the morning.

die wohngemeinschaft Hostel was quirky and beautiful, too. After a quick conversation with my new roommates - one who was visiting from the Netherlands for a solo birthday celebration, and the other who was taking a two-week course in Cologne - I tucked myself in behind the curtains of my bunk to keep reading the His Dark Materials trilogy in the ballet-themed dorm room.