October 11, 2004
Trip - A Detailed Account
Well, here it is on a Saturday night, and I am in a new country. I've wanted to describe my adventures, but not having the Internet available, I haven't as yet been able. In fact, I still don't have the Internet, but I decided to start writing these things down and then eventually, I can just copy and paste them. I'll also add some photos later on. I need to find some place with Photoshop or something or other so that I can alter the size. They might just have to come in all big and clumsy. Sorry about that.
For starters, I left early Monday morning. Got to the airport and went through all sorts of lines. The first thrill of the trip was when the clerk at the counter asked to see my passport. Yes! I had a passport, and I was willing to show it. Then my luggage was x-rayed and fondled by security guards. I showed my boarding pass at the metal detectors, along with my passport once again. Then I was through and on the side of the airport with all the shopping centers and the food. However, since it was still quite early, they were closed. Angie and I just went to our gate and waited. This part of the journey isn't all too exciting. We only flew into Minneapolis. I sat next to a nice lady from Iowa who had been in Salt Lake visiting her sister. I started reading Passage to India.
We had a layover in Minneapolis, so we ate lunch at McDonald's because it was the least expensive place we could find. Plus, we thought it rather fitting to have the last food we ate in the States to be fast food. Then we waited in the international section of the airport, where everyone speaks different languages and tries to nap in uncomfortable chairs. We boarded the plane. I had an aisle seat with a good view of the movie screen. They showed The Stepford Wives followed by Around the World in 80 Days with Jackie Chan. I had already seen both movies. So I settled into the seat, plugged my headphones into the armrest and listened to Indie music on the airline radio. I can't even remember what was played. The funny thing about these long international flights is that everyone gets really casual. I mean, people are wandering around in the aisles, climbing over each other, congregating near the bathrooms. I chatted with the lady next to me who was on her way to Paris with her husband for vacation. She was all concerned for me. I told her that we had to catch a train in Salzburg and we weren't sure which train to get. She asked her husband if the trains in Europe were easy to understand and assured me that everything would be all right. In between the movies, there was a map projected onto the screen, marking our progress. I strained to look out the window as we passed over Ireland and England, but it was still night, and I couldn't see anything. It seemed a shame.
So we finally arrived in Amsterdam at 6:30 in the morning. We waited in lines to get our transfer ticket and then to have our passport stamped. We chose the wrong lines both times. The ones that went twice as slow as everyone else, but at the end, I got my first passport stamp. Then we waited once again to board another plane. This time, however, instead of boarding directly onto the plane, we climbed aboard a shuttle that drove us far out into the parking lot of the airport. I pointed out a plane with exterior propellers to Angie, thinking it looked quaint. Eventually, our bus took us up to this plane. We climbed aboard the door that folds out to be stairs and entered what I can only imagine sounded like the Alps. Birds were chirping and water was rushing out of the speakers. It really was quite soothing. I really wanted to stay awake for this part of the flight. I mean, I was finally over Europe. I had waited my whole life for this moment, and right after the croissant and warm Coke, I fell asleep. I don�t even remember the flight attendant collecting my trash. Luckily, I did wake up in time to see the spiraling agricultural fields of Austria as we neared Salzburg.
Does this passage seem long? Well, it was a long trip, and it's not over yet. I don't blame you if you stopped reading. (But I hope you didn't.) We collected our large suitcases and encountered our first experience with the language barrier. We had to find the bus to the train station. We asked information, but we were both so weary and sleep deprived that neither of us really listened. So we found a bus stop and when the bus came by, we got on. We awkwardly hefted our suitcases on to the bus, and asked a guy if it was the right one. He said it was, but as the bus continued to circle the streets, I became more and more anxious that his English wasn't the best, and maybe we had misunderstood each other. As we lurched around one corner, my biggest suitcase tipped over onto the stroller of a little boy. His mother, on her cell phone, glared at us, and I picked it back up and held onto it for the rest of the ride. Our guide got off at one of the stops, but before leaving he said, "Train station, five stops from here."
We finally made it to the station, unloaded our luggage and followed the sign to the Information Desk, which apparently was located down an escalator. Once again, we chose the wrong line. It took us half an hour to get to the man behind glass and ask him for the train to Innsbruck, only to find that we were in the wrong station. Luckily, the station we wanted was just across the street. So up went our luggage, we crossed the street, accosted an elderly lady to ask if we were on the right track, but she didn't speak any English, so we just assumed that we were. And lo and behold, there it was! We bought our tickets and waited. We almost got on the wrong train, but due to the kindness of strangers, we found the right way. A kind man traveling with his family helped us lift our suitcases onto the shelves above the seats, and Angie and I sank next to the window, completely exhausted.
I tried so hard to stay awake. I did for a while and saw the hills rolling past. Everything looked just like you would expect. There were white houses with shutters and flowerboxes, the flowers draping over in cascades of reds and pinks. Tall-steepled churches with bells or clocks. Sheep. Gardens and pastures. But with the hum of the train and the hot compartment, I succumbed to sleep.
So - here I am in Innsbruck. We live in a student hostel near the airport and right on the F bus line, which we take three or four or six times a day. I'm still getting used to everything. I feel shy speaking in English because I hate drawing attention to myself. I take my camera everywhere. I'll describe my room and some of our adventures so far later.
As for now, here are some pictures from our trip:
