Goodbye Copenhagen.  We left early to head to Berlin.

The journey began as I was tasked to get Kenny (the Volvo) out of the tiny courtyard it had been parked in.  If you missed the blog from 203 days ago, you do not realize that parking greatness happened in Denmark on Saturday, August 12, 2010.  Andreas (the owner of the tilty apartment we rent) backed a Volvo x90 through a desperately narrow and crooked archway.  On this morning, I was responsible for reversing his efforts.

To be clear, going forward is infinitely easier than going in reverse.  Having said that, even FORWARD was not simple.  Here is a picture of Wiley and me collaborating on our exit.

 

Look at this and think about going in reverse.  Oh, and it there is an unexpected twist midway through the tunnel.

Andreas is my hero.

We then drove effortless to the southernmost part of Denmark to arrive at our ferry.  We were an hour early.  After our 2 hour crossing, we were absolutely the first people into our car.  I was a bit uncomfortable for the entire ferry ride.

Why is that? You might ask.  To be honest, I think we have a tad bit of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder when it comes to traveling and ferries.  Please let me share a story from our family trip to New Zealand 3.5 years ago:

[Start of New Zealand Story]

One specific incident is worth noting.  On Christmas Eve, we took the three hour ferry between the North and South Island.  The Eagle (our camper van – we have a habit of naming vehicles) was parked in the middle of the cars and trucks on the ferry.

We guessed that we would be facing a 45-60 minute process to get off upon our arrival.  The ferry was packed with 1600 passengers, most of who were walk-ons.

There was nowhere to sit, people were everywhere.  Once it docked, crowds of people jammed the halls and stairwells.  We were on level 7, the Eagle parked on 4.  We sat down and waited for the crowd to dissipate.  And waited.  We were resolved to be patient.  After 25 minutes, the intercom crackled: “Will the driver of camper van (Steve and Susie exchange worried glances) plate # ECL”  (looks of relief), “my apologies, that’s “E G L 655” please report to your vehicle IMMEDIATELY” (Kiwis are not usually urgent.) Unable to ford the crowd, we found a ferry employee who used the loud speaker to part the red sea for our departure.  Here are 3 little travel tips from the Baskins:

1)   ferries will not allow anyone to deboard until all vehicles are off,

2)   do NOT assume that anyone will tell you when to go to your vehicle

3)   if you grasp a 7 year-old close to you as you run through people simultaneously cheering and booing you, it is easier to take.

It turns out that the Eagle rested on the end of a hydraulic ramp that raised up and made us the first vehicle to depart –blocking everyone.  We held up a group of people equal in size to Steve’s college.  It took hours for the adrenaline to dissipate.

[End of New Zealand Story]

Funny how holding up a small town can affect you even several years later.

Anyway, we arrived on the other side and drove to Berlin from there.  On the way, we learned several facts about Germany:

1. Germans speak German (not like Swedes and Danes who speak loads of English).
2. German gas attendants pump your gas for you.  They do not, however, smile.
3. Travelers have to pay to use most restrooms, even if they are customers.  This particular fact is highly problematic for a family that still hydrates as if it were still in Texas – especially before you have exchanged money.

Once we arrived in our apartment, we had very little left in our tanks.  We napped, went to an ATM (time to stockpile Euros) and went to dinner.  People smoke a lot here.  Inside and out.  I am delighted that our kids are horrified rather than intrigued.  Of course, I suspect that having grumpy looking 60+ year-old Germans smoking does NOTHING to increase the coolness of the habit.  Lets face it, this is not George Clooney or Keira Knightly here.  In fact, this might be the best smoking cessation program imaginable.

Before I retire, I want to also share observations from our trip to the supermarket (called Nessy).  OK, supermarket is perhaps a misnomer.  Micromarket would better describe this establishment.  Imagine a very small Wal-Mart.  Now take away the classiness.  You are now in the Nessy.

As I mentioned before, I love to see what is in markets. You can learn a great deal by seeing how shelf space is allocated.  At first, I wanted to be hyperbolic and overstate the lunacy of this establishment.  I then realized that it requires nothing from me to make it comical.  After talking with the family, here is what we came up with for shelf-space allocation:

|

Item

|

% Store

|

Comment

| |

Beer

|

16%

|

Hey, its Germany.

| |

Chocolate

|

12%

|

I love chocolate, but when do you give it one of 5 aisles?  Of course, the Silver Fox would approve.

| |

Sausages and other meat-like stuff

|

12%

|

This includes pig parts for a good “make your own sausage” party

| |

Kitschy squirrel statues and other gems

|

12%

|

The squirrel statue was next to the bread basket and pillows

| |

Other food-like items

|

12%

|

This includes ramen noodles, ice cream, chips and cookies

| |

Wines and spirits

|

10%

|

Lots o’ schnapps (BTW, that is fun to say out loud)

| |

Canned goods

|

9%

|

Coups, canned ham.  Heck, you name it!

| |

Tong underwear and other unmentionables

|

9%

|

Nothing goof can come of this.

| |

Produce

|

8%

|

Next time you are at a Randalls flagship, Central Market or Whole Foods, please note the you are staring at more organic legumes than I see in total produce here.

| |

Paper goods

|

7%

|

Pretty self-explanatory

| |

Dairy

|

5%

|

Same here.

|

I am including a picture of a sausage container.  It has two happy and well-dressed pigs engaged in a conversation.  He asks, “Have you had your good pork/pig today?”  She replies, “Try me!”  I am at a loss to articulate on how many levels I find this disturbing.

OK, admittedly, we might not have strolled into the most epicurean of institutions.  But at some point, you have to stop and take notice. After this visit, you would expect our apartment to have lots of tacky decorations and directions to restaurants that are all sausages and beer.

What’s that Susie? A Star Trek poster and 3-D cat posters?  They recommended a sausage joint with choice of “smoking” and “heavy smoking” sections?  Yep, perhaps the Netto and our hosts are well-wed.

On a more serious note, our hosts are very nice.  Cannot speak any English, but hey, I cannot speak Deutsche. Susie, however, has broken out some German form her high school/college days that has been a huge life saver.

In any event, we like our host family.  I just wish I knew enough German to ask about the Starship Enterprise poster.

Steve Sir