in which we are reprimanded by German nuns {The Great European Road Trip Day 1: Munich to Eichstätt, Germany}
Day 2
Day 3
Day 4
Day 5
it was about a year ago now that we concocted a scheme with Father Aron and our friends the Pongracs to visit Germany, Austria, and a few other neighboring countries during the week-long interim between Father's Mediterranean cruise and his trip to Rome with his confirmation class. the plan at that point was to leave our girls in the States with Nana and Pappy while we gallivanted around Europe. many emails were exchanged as we tossed around ideas and Father kicked his research into high gear to make sure we could make the most of our travels.
then, Nick applied for, interviewed for, and accepted his current job in Rome. as he was negotiating the details of his contract, he asked if it would be possible to take this vacation we had been previously planning, and they graciously agreed. so, it was on! the one major adjustment was that now we would have our girls with us. we decided to rent a nine-passenger van in Germany and pray for the best.
Sunday, October 28, was rainy and a bit dreary. Nick rented a car, went to pick up Father at the port at the conclusion of his cruise, and returned so we could load up the car with our luggage and get to the airport. the girls were absolutely over the moon to be back in their carseats -- they hadn't used them since we moved here in August.
we piled into the car and said a prayer to St. Raphael, the patron saint of travel (who has wrought particularly wondrous deeds on various trips Father and Nick have taken in the past!). then we drove down the hill to attend noon mass at St. John the Baptist of the Florentines (San Giovanni dei Fiorentini). i've probably walked past this church fifty times by now, but had never gone inside. mass was being celebrated at a side altar, and surprisingly, there were only three other people in the congregation. the mass was celebrated in Italian, and the girls were antsy -- at one point i had to walk around the back of the church with Cecilia to distract her from screaming about gummies. the crazy thing about going to mass in Rome is that you're in an unbelievably beautiful church, often surrounded by important and rare relics (St. Mary Magdalene's foot is displayed in a glass case just feet away from where mass was celebrated this day -- the first foot to step into Jesus' empty tomb). and yet the kids are still kids, and my thoughts wander at times as they would in any other setting. but there is still something so profoundly moving about being in such a reverent environment.
after mass, Greta wanted to light a candle and Father helped her say a Hail Mary. we then hopped back in the car for the thirty-minute drive to Fiumicino Airport. i felt like it was an entirely different city gliding past outside the window -- i've been in the bubble of central Rome for so long (essentially bounded by walking distance/bus accessibility). there was a huge Panorama grocery store that looked almost like a Walmart! and the intriguing Wild Wild West fast food restaurant. one of these days, we've got to make it out there.
anyway, we arrived at the airport without too much difficulty and dropped off the rental car. then Father got to see the Will Family Airport Extravaganza in action. picture this: Nick and i each are wearing carseat backpacks that look more like nuclear weapons. i'm wearing Cece on my front and wheeling a suitcase or two. Nick's pushing Greta in the stroller (which is laden down with the diaper bag backpack, my purse, and our coats) and wheeling another suitcase with one hand. i never thought about how insane we must look until a friend was there to witness it. Father gamely hoisted a suitcase and we were off like an army of turtles, threatening to wipe out any unfortunate soul who happened to be standing in the trajectory of the carseat backpacks if we turned around or took a step backwards. (seriously, those things are heavy!)
in a rare instance of life in Italy being easier than it is in the States, the airline had a dedicated check-in desk for families with children. they put the gate-check tag on our stroller right there so we didn't have to ask the agent at the gate, and pointed us in the direction of the staff-only security line "since you have children". this meant that we were literally the only passengers at the checkpoint. we loaded our items through the scanner, walked through the metal detector, and were done. i realized afterwards that we hadn't actually shown anyone our boarding pass or passport. maybe the desk agent had phoned ahead to tell them to expect a family resembling ours, but that was still pretty strange.
the flight to Munich was uneventful -- a little over an hour in the air, just long enough for the beverage and snack service. we touched down at 5 PM. looking out the window at the fairly nondescript airport tarmac, Greta nonetheless breathed a sigh of wonder.
"Germany ... is ... " she trailed off.
"Germany is what?" i asked.
"it's just ... i don't know the right word. it's so beautiful."
ja, meine Tochter, ja.
now the real adventure would start! the first piece of the puzzle was meeting up with the Pongrac family, who had arrived in Munich around 11 AM (taking a red-eye from the States) and picked up the rental van. once we got to baggage claim, Nick went out to meet them while Father and i waited for the luggage to arrive on the conveyor belt. and waited. and waited. all the other people had collected their bags and left. finally we had everything except the stroller. a German family was waiting for their stroller too, which we surmised through gestures and Google Translate (stroller = Kinderwagen, which is just the cutest). finally, an attendant emerged from an elevator pushing a cart with both strollers on them. the other mom lit into him in rapidfire German, interrogating him about why it took so long to bring the Kinderwagens and pointing to the children who had had to suffer without their Kinderwagens (mind you, my girls were gleefully running around in circles, taking turns wearing Father's hat).
i thanked the poor man and got the stroller off the cart, and we strode out into the airport lobby (no passport checking, no customs, nothing. gotta love the EU). and there were the Pongracs!! lots of hugs and kisses all round. we loaded up into the van and were pleasantly surprised by how roomy it was -- there was even room to spare in the back despite all our luggage and the stroller. after a prolonged delay while Nick and Father went to the rental car desk to register as additional drivers, we were ready to roll. except for one slight issue: by this point it was almost 7 PM. we had planned to drive into Munich for dinner at the Hofbrauhaus, following which we would drive ninety minutes north to Eichstätt to the abbey of St. Walburga to spend the night. the nuns were expecting us around 8:30 PM. there was nothing for it but to call them and let them know we'd be arriving later ... probably around 10. this duty fell to Nick as the only German speaker in the group. he made the call outside the van, pacing back and forth while we tried to read his lips with bated breath. he got back in the van with a mix of a grimace and a smile. "it's okay, but we should really try not to be later than that -- they get up at 5 to say the office and they have mass at 6."
mission possible! it would just have to be an efficient dinner. after a few snafus with the van's built-in GPS, we arrived at the Hofbrauhaus at 7:30 and found a table in the back room. by this point, we were all starving. i bought two huge pretzels from a pretzel boy who looked exactly like Johnny Wagner and the girls started scarfing them down before i could get their picture.
there's just nothing like the Hofbrau Dunkel. even the smooth heft of the cold liter glass in your hand is satisfying. we toasted to Germany, to Angel's birthday, and to the trip.
we left the restaurant around 8:45, a bit later than intended, but i figured we could make up some time on the road. and we would have, if it wasn't for that blasted GPS! for one thing, it only gave audio directions (not printed on the screen) and the voice was so soft we could barely hear it. and the map wasn't centered, so it was tricky to determine the correct way to turn if we were just looking at the map. a few days into the trip, we figured out how to fix all of these problems, but there was a LOT of frustration the first few days. i'm sure it wasn't helpful to the driver (in this case Father, but usually Nick) to have all four other adults yelling different interpretations of the directions either ...
after various wrong turns, with our ETA slowly creeping later and later, we finally got onto the main highway and all seemed to be smooth sailing. we were to take the next exit ramp to merge onto another main road. but as we approached, the ramp was closed off by a police car! cue four different sets of opinions about what we should do ... some voted for taking the next exit, some voted for waiting for the GPS to recalculate, but pretty soon we didn't have a choice because we were in the world's longest tunnel. the GPS kept saying "make a U-turn immediately. make a U-turn immediately." which would have ended in certain death for us all, and was therefore less than helpful. by the time we finally got turned around, it was clear that we were going to be arriving nearly an hour later than we had previously told the nuns. so poor Nick had to call them again. he must have said "I'm so sorry" several times, and we could hear the displeased silence on the other end of the line. but there was no helping it at this point.
we finally pulled into the abbey grounds. the air was frosty and crisp, and Nick and Father went into the office to pick up the keys and express our apologies once again. the nun graciously showed us to our rooms, which were snug and simple.
Cecilia was thoroughly enamored with her little crib with the sweetest little embroidered duvet. of course, she and Greta both wanted to sleep in the big bed with us. we snuggled in under the down comforters and drifted off to sleep. (i'd forgotten how delightfully cozy down comforters are ... warm but not too hot, pleasantly weighted. and the best part about down comforters in a hotel or guesthouse is that you don't have to bother with getting them in and out of their covers!)
next up: a tour of St. Walburga Church, Prague, Kutna Hora, and a stay in a farm house in the middle of nowhere in the Czech Republic. stay tuned!
Day 3
Day 4
Day 5
it was about a year ago now that we concocted a scheme with Father Aron and our friends the Pongracs to visit Germany, Austria, and a few other neighboring countries during the week-long interim between Father's Mediterranean cruise and his trip to Rome with his confirmation class. the plan at that point was to leave our girls in the States with Nana and Pappy while we gallivanted around Europe. many emails were exchanged as we tossed around ideas and Father kicked his research into high gear to make sure we could make the most of our travels.
then, Nick applied for, interviewed for, and accepted his current job in Rome. as he was negotiating the details of his contract, he asked if it would be possible to take this vacation we had been previously planning, and they graciously agreed. so, it was on! the one major adjustment was that now we would have our girls with us. we decided to rent a nine-passenger van in Germany and pray for the best.
Sunday, October 28, was rainy and a bit dreary. Nick rented a car, went to pick up Father at the port at the conclusion of his cruise, and returned so we could load up the car with our luggage and get to the airport. the girls were absolutely over the moon to be back in their carseats -- they hadn't used them since we moved here in August.
we piled into the car and said a prayer to St. Raphael, the patron saint of travel (who has wrought particularly wondrous deeds on various trips Father and Nick have taken in the past!). then we drove down the hill to attend noon mass at St. John the Baptist of the Florentines (San Giovanni dei Fiorentini). i've probably walked past this church fifty times by now, but had never gone inside. mass was being celebrated at a side altar, and surprisingly, there were only three other people in the congregation. the mass was celebrated in Italian, and the girls were antsy -- at one point i had to walk around the back of the church with Cecilia to distract her from screaming about gummies. the crazy thing about going to mass in Rome is that you're in an unbelievably beautiful church, often surrounded by important and rare relics (St. Mary Magdalene's foot is displayed in a glass case just feet away from where mass was celebrated this day -- the first foot to step into Jesus' empty tomb). and yet the kids are still kids, and my thoughts wander at times as they would in any other setting. but there is still something so profoundly moving about being in such a reverent environment.
after mass, Greta wanted to light a candle and Father helped her say a Hail Mary. we then hopped back in the car for the thirty-minute drive to Fiumicino Airport. i felt like it was an entirely different city gliding past outside the window -- i've been in the bubble of central Rome for so long (essentially bounded by walking distance/bus accessibility). there was a huge Panorama grocery store that looked almost like a Walmart! and the intriguing Wild Wild West fast food restaurant. one of these days, we've got to make it out there.
anyway, we arrived at the airport without too much difficulty and dropped off the rental car. then Father got to see the Will Family Airport Extravaganza in action. picture this: Nick and i each are wearing carseat backpacks that look more like nuclear weapons. i'm wearing Cece on my front and wheeling a suitcase or two. Nick's pushing Greta in the stroller (which is laden down with the diaper bag backpack, my purse, and our coats) and wheeling another suitcase with one hand. i never thought about how insane we must look until a friend was there to witness it. Father gamely hoisted a suitcase and we were off like an army of turtles, threatening to wipe out any unfortunate soul who happened to be standing in the trajectory of the carseat backpacks if we turned around or took a step backwards. (seriously, those things are heavy!)
in a rare instance of life in Italy being easier than it is in the States, the airline had a dedicated check-in desk for families with children. they put the gate-check tag on our stroller right there so we didn't have to ask the agent at the gate, and pointed us in the direction of the staff-only security line "since you have children". this meant that we were literally the only passengers at the checkpoint. we loaded our items through the scanner, walked through the metal detector, and were done. i realized afterwards that we hadn't actually shown anyone our boarding pass or passport. maybe the desk agent had phoned ahead to tell them to expect a family resembling ours, but that was still pretty strange.
the flight to Munich was uneventful -- a little over an hour in the air, just long enough for the beverage and snack service. we touched down at 5 PM. looking out the window at the fairly nondescript airport tarmac, Greta nonetheless breathed a sigh of wonder.
"Germany ... is ... " she trailed off.
"Germany is what?" i asked.
"it's just ... i don't know the right word. it's so beautiful."
ja, meine Tochter, ja.
now the real adventure would start! the first piece of the puzzle was meeting up with the Pongrac family, who had arrived in Munich around 11 AM (taking a red-eye from the States) and picked up the rental van. once we got to baggage claim, Nick went out to meet them while Father and i waited for the luggage to arrive on the conveyor belt. and waited. and waited. all the other people had collected their bags and left. finally we had everything except the stroller. a German family was waiting for their stroller too, which we surmised through gestures and Google Translate (stroller = Kinderwagen, which is just the cutest). finally, an attendant emerged from an elevator pushing a cart with both strollers on them. the other mom lit into him in rapidfire German, interrogating him about why it took so long to bring the Kinderwagens and pointing to the children who had had to suffer without their Kinderwagens (mind you, my girls were gleefully running around in circles, taking turns wearing Father's hat).
i thanked the poor man and got the stroller off the cart, and we strode out into the airport lobby (no passport checking, no customs, nothing. gotta love the EU). and there were the Pongracs!! lots of hugs and kisses all round. we loaded up into the van and were pleasantly surprised by how roomy it was -- there was even room to spare in the back despite all our luggage and the stroller. after a prolonged delay while Nick and Father went to the rental car desk to register as additional drivers, we were ready to roll. except for one slight issue: by this point it was almost 7 PM. we had planned to drive into Munich for dinner at the Hofbrauhaus, following which we would drive ninety minutes north to Eichstätt to the abbey of St. Walburga to spend the night. the nuns were expecting us around 8:30 PM. there was nothing for it but to call them and let them know we'd be arriving later ... probably around 10. this duty fell to Nick as the only German speaker in the group. he made the call outside the van, pacing back and forth while we tried to read his lips with bated breath. he got back in the van with a mix of a grimace and a smile. "it's okay, but we should really try not to be later than that -- they get up at 5 to say the office and they have mass at 6."
mission possible! it would just have to be an efficient dinner. after a few snafus with the van's built-in GPS, we arrived at the Hofbrauhaus at 7:30 and found a table in the back room. by this point, we were all starving. i bought two huge pretzels from a pretzel boy who looked exactly like Johnny Wagner and the girls started scarfing them down before i could get their picture.
 |
| a very merry place indeed |
there's just nothing like the Hofbrau Dunkel. even the smooth heft of the cold liter glass in your hand is satisfying. we toasted to Germany, to Angel's birthday, and to the trip.
 |
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| Father and his Schweinshaxe |
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| Happy Birthday, Angel! |
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| Prost! (yes, that is Cece on my lap) photo credit: Angel :) |
we left the restaurant around 8:45, a bit later than intended, but i figured we could make up some time on the road. and we would have, if it wasn't for that blasted GPS! for one thing, it only gave audio directions (not printed on the screen) and the voice was so soft we could barely hear it. and the map wasn't centered, so it was tricky to determine the correct way to turn if we were just looking at the map. a few days into the trip, we figured out how to fix all of these problems, but there was a LOT of frustration the first few days. i'm sure it wasn't helpful to the driver (in this case Father, but usually Nick) to have all four other adults yelling different interpretations of the directions either ...
after various wrong turns, with our ETA slowly creeping later and later, we finally got onto the main highway and all seemed to be smooth sailing. we were to take the next exit ramp to merge onto another main road. but as we approached, the ramp was closed off by a police car! cue four different sets of opinions about what we should do ... some voted for taking the next exit, some voted for waiting for the GPS to recalculate, but pretty soon we didn't have a choice because we were in the world's longest tunnel. the GPS kept saying "make a U-turn immediately. make a U-turn immediately." which would have ended in certain death for us all, and was therefore less than helpful. by the time we finally got turned around, it was clear that we were going to be arriving nearly an hour later than we had previously told the nuns. so poor Nick had to call them again. he must have said "I'm so sorry" several times, and we could hear the displeased silence on the other end of the line. but there was no helping it at this point.
we finally pulled into the abbey grounds. the air was frosty and crisp, and Nick and Father went into the office to pick up the keys and express our apologies once again. the nun graciously showed us to our rooms, which were snug and simple.
Cecilia was thoroughly enamored with her little crib with the sweetest little embroidered duvet. of course, she and Greta both wanted to sleep in the big bed with us. we snuggled in under the down comforters and drifted off to sleep. (i'd forgotten how delightfully cozy down comforters are ... warm but not too hot, pleasantly weighted. and the best part about down comforters in a hotel or guesthouse is that you don't have to bother with getting them in and out of their covers!)
next up: a tour of St. Walburga Church, Prague, Kutna Hora, and a stay in a farm house in the middle of nowhere in the Czech Republic. stay tuned!
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