The thing dreams are made of
We are about to go to Rome, which means I need to get you updated on Germany before I get totally absorbed into Italy's ancient beauty and forget to document Aachen.
A couple of months back I decided it was essential that we go to Germany to catch our first Christmas market. I'd wanted to go to Germany, regardless - but the Christmas market gave us a timeframe (anytime after Nov 24).
We were going go to Cologne because its relatively close to the Dutch/Germany border, but Dre got to talking with her colleagues and opted to take-over the planning and turn it into a romantic getaway for the two of us.
This sounded pretty good to me - I generally like to research the history of whatever place we are going, but being wooed sounded equally dreamy. The day before we left Dre unveiled our location and our accommodations.
Turns out - after many a mishaps we weren't going to be sleeping over in Germany, after all. She'd booked us a place in Landgraff, - just inside the Netherlands. All the hotels were booked in Aachen. I must admit I was a bit let down. This is where my bratty "but I want an ooompa loompa now" self kicks in. It was hard to relinquish the reins and then be redirected. My heart had been set on a sleepover in Germany and this small matter of a border between me and Germany somehow REALLY mattered. But I course-corrected, remembered that I am the lucky duck getting to weekend trip around Europe (!!!) and spent the morning sorting out the transit between Aachen and Landgraff and got myself psyched for the adventure.
Its a good thing too - because it took having a GREAT attitude to get through our travels to Landgraff.
Joachim, Daphne, Dre and I said our teary, final goodbyes at Amsterdam Centraal at 7:00 a.m. on Saturday morning. Six trains and SEVEN hours later we were in Landgraff. Saturday was a tragic day on the Dutch railways as multiple suicides re-routed multiple trains. This left Dre and I taking many short rides to transfer to other short rides, till we eventually landed in the tiny town of Landgraff. Here we met a ski instructor who'd been on the same journey and we set out together to find our way to SnowWorld, our overnight destination.
Dre and I stood at one map figuring out the bus route and he stood at the city map figuring out our route to the bus route. In typical male fashion he confidently pointed us in the wrong direction.
We finally ditched the dude who wanted to keep walking while we called the hotel to help sort out a cab. Our heroic driver showed up in a fancy car and we were dropped off at the mind-boggling family resort of SnowWorld.
SnowWorld is the perfect place for skiers and families with children. Dre and I are neither. But after our hours and hours long journey all we could do was laugh at the log cookie carpeting, drop off our bag, call back the taxi and head into Aachen.
By Aachen I was starting to get Hangry. I have to thank Justin for teaching me this most excellent term. It perfectly captures the onset of moodiness that accompanies having spent the day making due on train stop food (which actually wasn't that bad - it'd just been a while since our last visit to a Julia's).
Lucky for us, we rounded the corner of the Christmas market and a stylish German restaurant was serving veggie bratwurst, beer and sauerkraut. VEGGIE BRATWURST in GERMANY! It was DELISH. We could hardly believe our good fortune after our rough and tumble day. And they served their french fries with tzatziki sauce. Which was so unexpectedly tasty.
Then it was out of doors and into the market.
Dre had heard that the Aachen Christmas market was the best Christmas market and while I have nothing to compare it to, I whole-heartedly agree. The market winds its way through the old square, flanked on either side by a cathedral and old town hall.
Dressed up wooden stalls sell gifts, ornaments, Printen and Gluweine. Printen is a local Aachen treat - a very licorice-y take on Gingerbread that can only call itself Printen if its made in Aachen or other very nearby locales. Gluwein is, of course, mulled wine. And at the market your rent your mug and refill your cup (often) to keep warm.
After our bellies were full of wieners and wine we took in the magic that is the market.
Saturday was designated our "deciding day"- we cruised the stalls looking for the tchotchkes we'd be buying the next day. That freed us up to really take it all in and while we did end up picking a few treasures we wanted to gift to certain folks, we mostly ambled the market and admired our options.
A band was playing carols in front of the town hall and the scene couldn't have been more romantic.
Until...
They started to play "I've been dreaming of a white Christmas..." just as it was starting to snow.
We couldn't believe our good fortune. Dre and I squeezed each other so tight, really feeling the blessing of the moment, the joy of the season and our love for one another.
If you want to fall (more) deeply in love with your significant other - take them to a Christmas market. If I'd seen a proper ring, I probably would have gotten down on one knee right then and there.
While the market was pure magic it was also quite cold. So we reluctantly boarded our train back to Landgraff and tucked in for the night.
Before we left SnowWorld I talked Dre into a ride on the AlpineCoaster (immediate/bio family: remember when we did this in Oregon?!?)
This coaster ruled. I had to keep slapping Dre's hands off the breaks as we sped down the mountain.
Then it was back to Aachen for more bratwurst and gift-buying.
In my Friday research I learned that Aachen was a top pick for the Holy Roman Emperor Charlemagne who favored the local hot springs. This lead me to booking us massages at Carolus Thermen. Checking out a German bath had also been high on my list, so it was pretty fortuitous that Dre had unwittingly directed us to a place that boasts such a rich bathing history.
Dre isn't so much into the soaking and we didn't bring our swimwear to Europe, so after our massages she lounged around reading in the waiting area while I splashed around in my not-exactly-a-real-swimsuit undergarment in the pools.
The mineral-rich water is routed into a number of different pools - from your standard hot jacuzzi to a giant outdoor whirlpool and I splashed around in all of them except the cool one. None of the other pools were hot enough to compel me try the hot/cold rotation I usually prefer.
After dinner we headed to Aachen's art deco train station and boarded our first of three trains to Amsterdam. This time we were only re-routed once (due to holiday festivities in Maastricht) and we made it home happily exhausted just after 9.
Next stop: Italy!
A couple of months back I decided it was essential that we go to Germany to catch our first Christmas market. I'd wanted to go to Germany, regardless - but the Christmas market gave us a timeframe (anytime after Nov 24).
We were going go to Cologne because its relatively close to the Dutch/Germany border, but Dre got to talking with her colleagues and opted to take-over the planning and turn it into a romantic getaway for the two of us.
This sounded pretty good to me - I generally like to research the history of whatever place we are going, but being wooed sounded equally dreamy. The day before we left Dre unveiled our location and our accommodations.
Turns out - after many a mishaps we weren't going to be sleeping over in Germany, after all. She'd booked us a place in Landgraff, - just inside the Netherlands. All the hotels were booked in Aachen. I must admit I was a bit let down. This is where my bratty "but I want an ooompa loompa now" self kicks in. It was hard to relinquish the reins and then be redirected. My heart had been set on a sleepover in Germany and this small matter of a border between me and Germany somehow REALLY mattered. But I course-corrected, remembered that I am the lucky duck getting to weekend trip around Europe (!!!) and spent the morning sorting out the transit between Aachen and Landgraff and got myself psyched for the adventure.
Its a good thing too - because it took having a GREAT attitude to get through our travels to Landgraff.
Joachim, Daphne, Dre and I said our teary, final goodbyes at Amsterdam Centraal at 7:00 a.m. on Saturday morning. Six trains and SEVEN hours later we were in Landgraff. Saturday was a tragic day on the Dutch railways as multiple suicides re-routed multiple trains. This left Dre and I taking many short rides to transfer to other short rides, till we eventually landed in the tiny town of Landgraff. Here we met a ski instructor who'd been on the same journey and we set out together to find our way to SnowWorld, our overnight destination.
 |
| Which way to SnowWorld? |
We finally ditched the dude who wanted to keep walking while we called the hotel to help sort out a cab. Our heroic driver showed up in a fancy car and we were dropped off at the mind-boggling family resort of SnowWorld.
SnowWorld is the perfect place for skiers and families with children. Dre and I are neither. But after our hours and hours long journey all we could do was laugh at the log cookie carpeting, drop off our bag, call back the taxi and head into Aachen.
By Aachen I was starting to get Hangry. I have to thank Justin for teaching me this most excellent term. It perfectly captures the onset of moodiness that accompanies having spent the day making due on train stop food (which actually wasn't that bad - it'd just been a while since our last visit to a Julia's).
Lucky for us, we rounded the corner of the Christmas market and a stylish German restaurant was serving veggie bratwurst, beer and sauerkraut. VEGGIE BRATWURST in GERMANY! It was DELISH. We could hardly believe our good fortune after our rough and tumble day. And they served their french fries with tzatziki sauce. Which was so unexpectedly tasty.
Then it was out of doors and into the market.
Dre had heard that the Aachen Christmas market was the best Christmas market and while I have nothing to compare it to, I whole-heartedly agree. The market winds its way through the old square, flanked on either side by a cathedral and old town hall.
 |
| Ye Old Town Hall |
Dressed up wooden stalls sell gifts, ornaments, Printen and Gluweine. Printen is a local Aachen treat - a very licorice-y take on Gingerbread that can only call itself Printen if its made in Aachen or other very nearby locales. Gluwein is, of course, mulled wine. And at the market your rent your mug and refill your cup (often) to keep warm.
After our bellies were full of wieners and wine we took in the magic that is the market.
Saturday was designated our "deciding day"- we cruised the stalls looking for the tchotchkes we'd be buying the next day. That freed us up to really take it all in and while we did end up picking a few treasures we wanted to gift to certain folks, we mostly ambled the market and admired our options.
A band was playing carols in front of the town hall and the scene couldn't have been more romantic.
Until...
They started to play "I've been dreaming of a white Christmas..." just as it was starting to snow.
We couldn't believe our good fortune. Dre and I squeezed each other so tight, really feeling the blessing of the moment, the joy of the season and our love for one another.
If you want to fall (more) deeply in love with your significant other - take them to a Christmas market. If I'd seen a proper ring, I probably would have gotten down on one knee right then and there.
While the market was pure magic it was also quite cold. So we reluctantly boarded our train back to Landgraff and tucked in for the night.
Before we left SnowWorld I talked Dre into a ride on the AlpineCoaster (immediate/bio family: remember when we did this in Oregon?!?)
This coaster ruled. I had to keep slapping Dre's hands off the breaks as we sped down the mountain.
 |
| lay off that brake! let's go! |
 |
| "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire..." |
Dre isn't so much into the soaking and we didn't bring our swimwear to Europe, so after our massages she lounged around reading in the waiting area while I splashed around in my not-exactly-a-real-swimsuit undergarment in the pools.
The mineral-rich water is routed into a number of different pools - from your standard hot jacuzzi to a giant outdoor whirlpool and I splashed around in all of them except the cool one. None of the other pools were hot enough to compel me try the hot/cold rotation I usually prefer.
After dinner we headed to Aachen's art deco train station and boarded our first of three trains to Amsterdam. This time we were only re-routed once (due to holiday festivities in Maastricht) and we made it home happily exhausted just after 9.
Next stop: Italy!
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