Change has come...

Well, if you haven't yet heard the news, I am no longer able to say that I'm running a travel-blog, as I am now a resident of Munich, woo-hoo! (More about this here: http://wonderfulgermanlife.tumblr.com/)

I am deciding to put this blog on the top shelf and lock it up for good. I'll even admit I was pretty terrible about keeping up to date with it anyhow. :P ("Oh Matt, you're so funny, we'd love to read your new blog at: http://wonderfulgermanlife.tumblr.com/!")

So I'm making this post here to say that I'm switching to a new blog, one that talks about the crazy hijinks that I'll be getting into as I go through my new life as a resident of Munich. It'll also be a little bit more friendly to random quotes, daily photos, and overall just a little bit more "me" than "my trip", which I think I may find it easier to keep up with. (You can find my new blog here: http://wonderfulgermanlife.tumblr.com/)

If, due to my lack of posting-reliability, you now hate me and never want to read anything I write ever again, forever and ever, I suggest you don't go to "http://wonderfulgermanlife.tumblr.com/", the site of my new blog.

Anyhow. Its been fun, blogger.com, but tumblr.com's trendiness has stolen my heart. Thanks for reading, and I hope to see you again at http://wonderfulgermanlife.tumblr.com/

Amsterdam!

Alright, I admit it. I'm a terrible person. I promised you I'd be more consistent with these posts, and I even promised you an Amsterdam post. Its been a very busy last few weeks though. You see, going without any plans means that you spend your not busy time trying to figure out how to place your next step. Especially with how expensive a wrong step can be. Anyhow, without futher adieu...

This ole' place?

 

 

 

   From Munich my next stop on "Matt Schneider's Eurotastical Journey" was none other than Amsterdam. If you've never heard of Amsterdam, you're... well everyone's heard of Amsterdam. Come on, even my grandma warned me about the "special buildings with the curtains and the ladies". Then of course everyone thinks about drugs upon mention of Amsterdam. Which, might I add, my grandma was also quick to warn me about. Having spent a solid week there, I'm here to tell you it's all absolutely true. You can legally (and quite easily illegaly) buy drugs, legally buy a prostitute (all kinds... short, tall, big, small, etc.), and there's no shortage of overpriced bars bursting with "interesting" people from all over the world. I myself had some crazy times. Take for instance my first night, when Marius and I were shown around "town" (actually just the red light district) by a really drunk guy. Amsterdam can be a lot of fun, but perhaps just a bit too fun. I woke up the next day with a thunderstorm in my head, an ocean of drool on my pillow, and a desert in my throat. The headache came to pass, but I actually lost my voice for the rest of the week that I was there. When the smoke cleared, I had one of those awesome "I SPENT HOW MUCH LAST NIGHT?!" moments. Don't worry though: No prostitutes. I mean come on, I've got morals.

But I am a teenaged boy, so I had to at least see the red light district.

 So, yea there is a lot of stuff for the various roughians and rapscalions of the world... if that's all you're looking for. In fact you don't even have to go much further than the train station, which is the center of town, to see that whole side of the city. But for anyone who actually wants to enjoy the beautiful city of Amsterdam in all of its wonderful Dutch glory, there's a whole rest of the city to love. We took a canal tour, and learned all kinds of awesome stuff about the city, like how it was started by two fisherman and a dog who built a dam on the Amstel river (Am - stel - dam... my God... its... just like... Am - STER - dam!). And as you stroll up and down the narrow streets and look at some of the coolest architecture ever, you've gotta try your best not to get run over by one of the insane bikers. They say there are more bikes in Amsterdam than there are people, I say there are probably even more bike related injuries. And believe it or not, most of the Dutch people don't even smoke weed. Yeah, seriously. In fact a lot of people aren't fans of all the drug tourists it brings to Amsterdam. This is reflected in that fact that soon, in order to be allowed into the "coffee shops" you need to show a European passport. But in the meantime, they certainly have to appreciate the money they bring. And they really try their best to break your bank.

Bikes... EVERYWHERE!

When Marius and I got there, we decided to go get a nice kebab from a restaurant around the city center. We ended up being charged 7.50 euro (about $10), though the price on the menu was 5.50. Not even full, and sickened at the trickery that had befallen us, we decided to split a meal at McDonalds to try and make up for the money we'd been screwed out of. But low and behold! What does McDonalds do, but try overcharging us 50 freaking cents too. This time though, we decided to confront him and he changed the price without hesitation. Still, McDonalds, the pillar of Americaness that I've come to rely on tried cheating me out of money! Thankfully, we did end up finding some of the secrets to cheap dinging. We decided one day to go out of the city center to visit a botanical garden, and at lunchtime ate like kings for only 4 euro each. In addition to being a really cheap price (especially for Amsterdam), it too was kebab house. The only difference was it's non-proximity to all the coffee shops, bars, and brothels. True success came though, with the 78 cent, 1 liter can of pea soup. And then there were the amazing 800 ml bottles of freshly squeezed juice for only 2 euros- sadly we discovered it on our last day.

 Probably a good thing though... because if i had known about these bad boys, I'd be broke right now.

All in all, we had a pretty freaking successful trip to Amsterdam. But I'd go back in a second because even in my 7 days there I left a lot to still be seen. And the people watching alone makes a trip worthwhile: If you're not watching someone shamefully hand over 50 euros for the night of their life, you're pretty much in "Stoner Disneyworld"... so there's that.

A Long Overdue Post

Six or seven months ago, when the "going to Germany" planning and saving began, I thought to myself, "These next few months are gonna take forever". And even before I left, I remember thinking "This trip is probably gonna feel so fast... I hope I make it count." But now, I can honestly say that these last few weeks, I feel like I've lived a lifetime. I've seen the beer capital of the world, Munich, in all of it's glorious Bavarian splendor and I've seen the absolutely insane world of Amsterdam- and I've still got months ahead of me. But anyway, I've got a lot to tell, and you've probably got a lot to do, so let's just get down to business. I've decided that Munich and Amsterdam were post-worthy in their own right, so I'll begin with Munich, and make an Amsterdam post soon after. Enjoy!

 The Monday before last began for me with a drive down the autobahn at a steady 100-120 miles per hour, no big deal. Three high-octane hours later, we  were in Munich,  the capital of beer, Bavaria, and all that we Wisconsinites think of as being "German" (bratwurst, pretzels, Lederhosen etc.). Awesomely enough, my accommodation for the week was Marius' uncle's house. I thought that I'd see some different aspect of Munich than what most visitors see. Oddly enough though, from what I gathered, I think the people may just be the jolly, beer-loving, happy Germans that I'd expected them not to be. I mean, the Bavarian idea of a "traditional breakfast" is weißwurst and beer. And every night for dinner, my host-dad had a big mug of beer with dinner, which was usually cheese and sausage with pretzel rolls. Awesome, am I right? I guess the stereotype isn't really so different than the reality in this case.

It's the same mentality I wanted to take in my day-to-day activities there, I didn't want to be "that tourist" who saw the Glockenspiel and ate at a grossly overpriced Biergarten thinking they'd really seen Munich. But once again, I found that it doesn't matter really where you go, Munich is Munich. With how friendly everyone was, I often forgot that I was in a city with well over a million inhabitants. In fact, from the people I talked to, as far as big cities go, it's one of the safest. I mean, in my host family the 6 year old took the public bus to and from school every day all be herself. I bet the biggest threat you face in Munich is getting trampled by the hoards of tourists. I mean, the Glockenspiel at Marienplatz is packed every morning with tourists. As I stood to watch it myself, I heard a commentary about it in like 6 different languages. But its no wonder it's always so packed with tourists, the place has got tons to offer.

The Isar

 

The town's got shopping, the Isar (a blue river, no seriously, it's actually blue), a massive park, and of course every single piece of Munich is steeped in historical awesomeness... Oh and beer. Lots of delicious, wonderful beer. Even the town's name sake "München" or "the monk's place" contributes to the city's "beer" identity. During my stay we visited the nearby Andechs monastery where the monks brew beer to pay for the upkeep of the buildings, and have been since the doors of the monastery opened. On a side note, go there. It really doesn't get much better than staring with awe out at the Alps as you drink your beer and eat bratwurst with sauerkraut. Especially when it's the most amazing bratwurst and sauerkraut you've ever had, and the beer you're drinking is brewed in the building next to you.

Train Shenanigans- or How I Almost Got Deported Forever (Maybe)

Hello my friends. The last few days have been fantastic beyond any sort of belief, but for now, I leave you with just one of many stories from them.


After a relaxing day of sleeping and jet lag recovery, I was just asking for a thrill, and I got one.
It all started when Marius and I decided to visit the nearby town of Bensheim. We decided that we'd catch the 8 o'clock train to get there. I  bought myself a ticket and we headed for the platform to wait for our train. Now, at this point I should have gotten my ticket time-stamped to validate that I was going to use that ticket for this trip... but Marius decided instead that we'd play a little game called "If there's no conductor on board, you get to ride for free!". This of course was easy for him to agree to, because as a frequent traveler to Bensheim, he has a ticket that's good for as many trips to Bensheim as he wants for a year. I on the other hand, a foreigner with EVERYTHING to lose, should have probably been a little less happy-go-lucky about it.
So, we scoped the train out as it pulled up to the platform and after deciding it was safe,we boarded and found seats. It felt good to be back on the wonderful German train system again and I felt safe and comfortable. That is until about 10 seconds into the trip, when the conductor walked into the car from the other side.
 "Get up." Marius whispered to me. A little bit in disbelief I looked at him dumbfounded.
 "Get up."he whispered again. My stomach was instantly in knots. Trying not to be too obvious, I nervously rose from my seat to go and hide in the bathroom. Thoroughly panicked by the apparent absence of my one chance at a hiding place, I looked at the two teenagers next to me and managed to choke out a, "Ba... bathroom...?"
"Bathroom? Oh it should be right there, no? Then maybe its over th- OH SCHEIßE!" He'd too now seen the conductor. Instantly he and his friend bolted towards the door to the next car.
I realized that I was A: in a similar predicament, B: that the conductor now stood between me and my one idea for a hiding place, and C:  the old saying, "when in rome..." and with a shrug, sprinted after them.
"You don't have a ticket either?" one of them asked me as we ran through the isle of the first car.
"No, well, yes, but I didn't use it... or... something... I'm not sure" I responded as we opened the door to the third car. Now, assuming you've never found yourself in this particular situation...You really can't get much better than running away from trouble when it comes to adrenaline, but with strangers, in a foreign country- I don't think I'd ever ran so fast in my life.
As the train came to a stop at the one before ours, Auerbach, we hit a wall, because those who wanted to get off were now a human blockade on our path to freedom. We sat there now just waiting for our imminent doom, till we heard someone call out from behind us.
"You can stop running. We've got a group ticket with 3 free places." The voice came from a woman who was sitting several rows in front of us, and she must have heard me speak English because she too spoke in it. She was a German woman and must have been in her early 20s. With her was someone who was presumably her boyfriend. She bade us to sit down and relax so we did and shared an immense sigh of relief. Interestingly enough, I noticed a Starbucks bag among her belongings. I am sure now that it was a sign. Thank you Howard Schultz. I owe you one.
Marius caught up to us and upon seeing my shaken self he instantly burst into laughter. Within a couple of minutes, we were already at the Bensheim station. After thanking my running mates and my saviors, we continued on to the city and celebrated with a döner kebab. Needless to say, I pretty much walked away from that situation with an ego the size of a planet.
Now in reality, if I had gotten caught, the worst thing I'd probably face was a 40 euro fee for breaking the rules, and the wrath of a German train conductor. But I didn't find that out till later. Heck, in my mind I could have been deported!
Long story short, ladies and gent's, running away from train conductors in Germany, like a bause.

 Untouchable döner kebab swag.

Frankfurt Ahoy!

A lot can happen in a day, especially if it's a 36 hour day. And as much as I would have loved to make this post one of yesterday's happenings, jet lag is a force to be reckoned with. Anyway, I am here!
After one of those movie-esque goodbye scenes with my family at O'hare, and 12 hours spent in either a plane or an airport I've finally reached my primary destination. And lets just say, its been a journey already.

The Stockholm area of Sweden

Ah my flight to Stockholm. Easily the best flight I've ever been on.  The food was great and I had an "entertainment screen" to use. Heck I even had a person behind me who was cool enough to let me actually recline my seat (a first for me)., Speaking of people on the flight, I've never been around so many other blonde haired people. I was actually told numerous times that I looked Swedish, which for me (I dressed up as a Viking at the renaissance fair, whatev's) was awesome. Oh and about halfway through my flight, over Greenland I lifted my window shutter to see the northern-freaking-lights right next to the plane. After 8 seamlessly knit hours, I watched the plane land in Stockholm via the camera they had on the front and bottom of the plane.

Oh Sweden, you so safe!

 The Stockholm airport was awesome, it felt like I was in the future because everything was shiny and expensive looking. Once again, seemingly everyone was a beautiful, blonde haired, model. And I mean hey, I felt nice and safe knowing that I wouldn't be getting pepper sprayed. The Stockholm-Frankfurt flight itself was uneventful, but the arrival was.We were let out of the plane on stairs down to the paved runway thing (you know, like a visiting foreign dignitary? Swag.) and were bused to the airport. I exited customs to find not a single familiar face. I instantly engaged the "OH GOD. No, I'm all alone in a foreign country where not everyone speaks my langguuuuuaaaaaggggeeeeeee" switch. But about 5 panic-filled minutes later I saw the familiar faces of Marius and his mother and reunion hugs were given.

A Farewell to Bux

Well, you couldn't expect THIS to be what I meant by backpacking...

I write to you, fair friends, freshly unemployed. To stand on the verge of something great, one must first take that frightening plunge from comfort and to me, leaving my job was the first step in that direction. While it is only the beginning of the tether-breaking, it's one tether that doesn't break easy. I mean on one hand, there is something rather liberating about being unemployed- I spent my first day off finally able to hang out with some friends without worrying about getting up at some ungodly hour of the morning, and I did buy a "Family-sized" bag of Doritos that's been seeing plenty of love (the kind only the unemployed can give) these last two days.

But on the other hand, I can honestly say that there are a lot of things that I am going to miss about working for Starbucks. Aside from providing me with the funding for my little adventure, it's introduced me to some pretty awesome people. For all the crap I give the "cookie cutter soccer moms ordering skinny vanilla lattes" that Menomonee Falls has to offer for a customer base, there are some real gems in the mix. And to be really, really honest, sometimes the skinny vanilla latte ordering people could be the most insightful/intelligent/interesting of all. The people who I've come to know and love seeing every day of work will all be sorely missed; if not for how much I've gotten to know them in the short windows of conversation I got to have with them, then for the meaningful things that they've told me as they waited for me to hand them off their drink. They did a great job of making an 18 year old non-college bound kid feel more like a Rockstar than a Barista.

 As great as the customers were, the people I had the privilege of calling coworkers were truly fantastic. It's one thing to love your job, but to love the people you work with? Now that's truly a great thing. Even though it seemed like we constantly had someone coming or going we always gelled together and delivered. There's just something crazily unifying about working through a customer rush, even if you're just standing there taking orders and throwing out one-liners to lighten up the mood. But the things we did, breaking cars-per-half-hour records for the district, changing people's lives by handing out a free drink or two, and of course dropping everything to have the whole store tell someone how cute their dog was... it's something I'll reminisce about when I'm at some old person home.

Yes, saying goodbye to Starbucks leaves a bittersweet taste in my mouth, because while I'll miss working there, I've got the memories and friendships from working there that I can bring with me wherever I may end up.

Fear is the Mind-killer

"When a resolute young fellow steps up to the great bully, the world, and takes him boldly by the beard, he is often surprised to find it comes off in his hand, and that it was only tied on to scare away the timid adventurers." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Time flies when you're having fun, or at least that seems to be the general consensus. I am currently two shifts away from quitting my job and a mere sixteen days away from the start of my journey through space-time, the future and the fatherland. Lately I've been catching the occasional bout of fear of what's to come, but then again I dare anyone to stand where I am and not spend a single second worried about it. 

There are a number of things to be afraid of, like running out of money, getting murdered, regret for not planning enough, regret for planning too much. Not to mention the fear of what kind of lasting effects this whole thing could leave on my life: I'll be coming home unemployed and broke with a nice big gap in my employment to forever explain. But for as bad as those things can sound, there are also some pretty spectacular things that could happen too. Who knows? Maybe when I get back I'll find a dream job where being "well traveled" makes me even more qualified. And even if I fall victim to bad planning or budgeting, it's all a part of this wonderful learning process we call life.

Maybe I'm just reading too far into it. After all, it's only three months in Europe on a budget of like $4500...

Yep. I'm screwed.