the beer finally got the best of us...
We arrived in Nurenberg and were immediatly impressed with what we saw. As opposed to all of the big cities that we have ben seeing, Nurnberg seemed alot smaller and quainter. Beautiful cobblestone walkwavs, led us through the city, towards even more beautiful churches and fountains. We Walked around on our first night seeing all of this, but having forgotten our cameras, we have nothing but our imaginative memories. On that same walk, Lisa got a true taste of My sense of direction. She maintains that we were lost, whereas I kept having to reasure her that our destination kept chenging. Her replies to this sugestion were that our hostel should be our destination. Maybe she has a point, but at least we saw more of the city and didnt have to ask for any directions. Our hostel was in a beautiful part of teh town. It was located on the street, right behind the old city wall. This hostel was alot smaller than the one in Berlin, but it was way mroe friendly and we met so many mroe people. In our first 10 minutes there, we met a nice Aussie dude, whose name has eluded us ever since the first time he spoke to us. Fortunately, we never had to address him, and now he is simply known as that Aussie guy.
Our second day in Nurenberg was not actually spend in teh city. We took a day trip to Rothenberg ob der Tober, which was about an hour train ride outside of the city. Here we walked around and saw a beautiful old old town. We went to this town to see the Kriminalmuseum, which was dedicated to old and mediavel forms of detention and torture. They had a Shame mask for women who talk to much. I think I might have to...nevermind. They also had a flute of shame for bad musicians, an Ass of shame that bad children had to sit on (donkey ass, not ass ass), as well as a punisment chair that was used as a tool of shame. People would be strapped to this chair in teh city centre and be forced to undergo public humiluiation. This tool was used mostly for petty theives, hookers, and bakers who had baked their bread to small.
After the museum, we enjoyed a local delicacy, known as a Skneeball. Literally, this translates to Snow Ball. It is basically a ball of sugar dough, with just about any topping on it that you like. So glad that two of them were able to sustain us til dinner. For all you Canadians, think of a rock hard beaver tail, formed into a ball. Real good but hard to eat. Stay tuned for a pic when we find a functional USB port.
Also in this town, there was a clock that signifies the greatest story ever to have happened in this town. During the 30 years war, the town was threatened with destruction. In an atempt to save the town, the mayor accepted a wager which eventually required him to imbibe 3 and a quarter liters of wine at a gulp. He suceeded, the town was saved, and now he is forever enshrined in a giant cukoo clock.
Our last day in Nuremberg was so bad. We had such a bad day. First we were duped by this seemingly nice German woman, who claimed to speak English, but as it turns out her version of English was in slow to medium speed German, with Excessive hand gestures. In the end, we beleived we were paying for a train pass to see teh old Nazi rally grounds, but we in fact just put the equivalent of 25 Canadian dollars into some machine that gave us an utterly useless ticket. We finally made it to the Rally grounds only to find them seting up for some stpid MTV outdoor show, and loud screaming Americans all over the place. In short, we saw what we needed to see quickly and hauled-ass. On teh way back, we needed to exchange some cash so that we could get to Munich. After waiting in line (as we were told is customary here), I mamaged to get some money changed. Lisa, being the polite Canadian, Waited in line behind me, and when a second teller opened her window, allowed teh person behind her to go ahead. After I finished, teh guy behind teh counter, for some reason or another decided to close his window and, well, we arent really to sure what he was doing, but it looked like he was having fun watchin the line grow. Lisa found herself in sortof an awkward position now, as a new line had formed behind the other teller that she politely sidestepped to wait for my guy. Long story short, when you seem pissed off, or when you are trying to get your spot back in line, nobody ever seems to understand you.
On our way home from the train station, we were both a little stressed. Lisa so much so to the point that she actually went after a bird. I think she was actaully trying to kill it, and I myself got a littel scared. The night got way better from here though.
On my way to the grocery store for dinner, I was approached by 3 different prostitutes. Or what I assume were prostitutes. I am judging by scatilly clad women in firstfloor windows, with neon lighting in the background, and cigarette machines outside. I could be mistaken though and if so, to you women, I apologize for making an unfounded generalization.
We met 3 more Canadians, 2 British guys, and an american. We taught them all how to Play a good old fashioned Candian drinking game, which seeing the outcome, I would say that Lisa and I won. This night however will go down as the night that cheap german beer kicked our asses.
Off to Munich tomorrow....LATER!!!!