Day 3: Steins and Wine on the Rhine

The Rhine Valley is absolutely gorgeous. Populated by pine trees and grapevines heavily terraced into the hillsides, lined by castles. I highly suggest driving into the Rhine Valley when the sun is just barely setting over a rainy day. The light turns bright yellow, reflecting the snowy peaks of the Alps off the broad Rhine river...it's quite nice. We stayed in a family hotel which had about 3 staircases too many for a 3 story building. I assume it had something to do with the river flooding every so often. Outside, it was beautifully quiet. We ate dinner and then headed off to a wine tasting, which took place in a straight up 17th century wine cellar. It was cold, the tables were wooden, and it was awesome. I could see a bunch of bearded germans wearing those awesome felt caps and big jackets toasting "High Prossit" (which I think means "to your health"). There were 5 wines in all, i think--mostly of the Riesling variety which is specially suited to the region, but also an icewine, which sounds rad, and it is: its wine made out of grapes that have been frozen solid for 2 weeks on the vine. Its a desert wine, very sweet, almost honeylike in flavor.

Afterwards, we all drank in the hotel bar, where the beer was cheap. I ducked out early to sit on a bench underneath a willow tree and watch the river. From my vantage point I could see three well lit castles, and just sat quietly, the air smelling in that way that only cold, clean air can, very happy that I was here.

I went to bed a little earlier, feeling a little sleepy from all that tasty German wine. In the morning, we walked to a small store that was lined wall to wall with Steins. It was here that I believed that yes, there clearly was German blood running through me--i was entranced with the work that went into crafting these ornate mugs. I was intent on getting one for me and my Dad. Kirk picked out a couple great shot glasses for Mom, and then we proceeded to debate over the perfect fireman themed stein, which I'm happy to report was a big hit back home. I settled on a classic blue painted stein with a crest of some kind on it.

And that was it for St. Goar, the sleepy riverside town. We were onto Munich, where I narrowly escaped getting arrested by a Burger King manager. But more on that next time.

Harry Potter Is Wordcrack

I enjoy reading a lot, maybe not as much as the Word Baron, but still. One of my favorite authors from my childhood is Roald Dahl, who wrote "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" and a bunch of other rad stuff. One of my personal favorites is "The BFG." In it, a giant eared giant acts as a sort of Sandman, collecting dreams and distributing them to kids at night. One of the bottled dreams is about an author who writes a book so good that anyone who begins it cannot put it down until they have finished it. Society effectively grinds to a halt as everyone tries to spend all day reading and driving/teaching/playing football at the same time. I always felt that this was, out of all the dreams that appear in the book, probably the best.

I think J.K. Rowlings got that dream. Because I could not do anything until I finished Book 7. I even (for a second) tried to read while driving. Haha, only kidding...Perhaps it's just the cumulative effect of delayed gratification for an ending over a decade long in the making, or maybe it's a terrifying clue into the true power of marketing, but frankly, Harry Potter was the only thing I really cared about from when I opened it till I closed it with a sigh.

And it was worth it. Really, really, worth it. It's a great book, and I think a fitting ending to a series that will likely be read hundreds of years from now, long after everyone has forgotten who Harold Bloom is (he's a dick). So congrads to Ms. Rowlings--she's inspired a lot of writing, which is something to be proud of, and brought a wonderful story into a world that is far better off for it.

That being said, that's mostly why i'm behind on the travelogues. Sorry, Mike!

Also: I think Transformers is eyecrack.