Jet-lag

Edersee Travel Blog

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End of Day 2, Summary:

Started off the day at 330am. Hungover and overheated, i wake up to all the lights blazing and Curtis Mayfield still rocking it out. A few glasses of water later, i sit down at the computer to write. Pausing only to check out the sunset (couldn't walk because i'd forgotten to ask for a key to get back in), i didn't get up again until about 9am.

Kelly and I walked around town, stopping at the post office, grocer, produce shop, butcher, etc. She points out the locations of a few restaurants and stores i might like to find, and i'm still completely lost in this city. I'll have to get a map. I still don't recognize how close we are to the apartment until i can physically see the door; there are just so many angles of approach and i have no sense of direction yet. She comments on the attendants and proprietors of certain shops and restaurants, and i nod dumbly. Still dragging; they say it's jet-lag, i claim it's the exhaustion of power. You can't be this awesome all the time and not feel it in your bones.

It starts to rain and drizzle everything out, so we head back to the house. I find a comfortable place to sit and read through some texts for class, setting down my books at every possible moment to procrastinate by doing something else. Dad comes back for lunch and i can no longer keep my eyes awake. I'm asleep as he's walking out the door, book still held up in front of me, my head lolling off to the side.

I wake up about 5 hours later. Kelly has come and gone twice, leaving notes each time and coming back to find that they nor i have moved. Dad has just gotten home and they are preparing to go out for the evening. I fall off the couch and crawl into the bathroom to wash up. I told you that awesomeness is exhausting, right?

We head out to Edersee to check out the castle, a dam, a hotel, the local sights... On the way there we spot a caged-in yard: thousands of creosote telephone poles are being soaked by constantly running sprinklers, every inch of the wood being kept wet. I shake my head, disappointed that they still use wood for their utility poles here, and frustrated by the treatment of the poles. For hectares all around, farming land prevails. State-protected land butts up against private farming land, and small 2-lane scenic highways are all that jut into the scenery here. The roads aren't even heavily travelled. The runoff from these tar-impregnated poles will surely seep into the groundwater, eventually contaminating the aquifers below and penetrating the local reservoir and, via the river, more local waterways.

Even Costa Rica switched to concrete poles years ago, and they have far less revenue available to them than Germany.

We made it to the town without issue. Kelly dropped off the mutt, the pops and myself at the dam while she found a spot to park. We found a vantage point on the dam and he told me some of the history -- the strategic bombing of the dam in World War II by the British, the Dam Busters movie, the city encapsulated underneath the reservoir... We waited on the walkway for Kelly to come by, then headed to a more scenic point, getting a walk in by and by.

After some sightseeing, some pictures, some walking, we headed up some trails and through the town a bit, checking out some local shops and restaurants, that kind of thing, and headed back to the car. We had gotten a late start and it was already cooling off and darkening, so we headed back to the apartment to change.

Back at the homestead, we snagged an appetizer and i squeezed in a pipe on the terrace. We sat out and enjoyed the breeze, eating some fresh guacamole and checking out photographs and local events online before walking to dinner at a local boutique.
At the restaurant, i was again vividly aware of my misplacement and inability to communicate. I turned to Dad and Kelly often for translations, to have them order for me, for pretty much everything. I vowed to squeeze Spanish in with my classes next semester, and German once i'm proficient in Spanish. It's good to have goals, especially seemingly unattainable ones -- Already i am signed up for 20 credits next semester. Occupying my time between classes are 3 jobs, and I have tutoring and homework to fit in to any remaining spare time. I suppose some Spanish lessons to top it all off will either help fill any remaining time i have left and keep my pleasantly busy, or will fill any remaining sanity i have left and leave me mentally incapacitated and committed. Either way.

On the way back to the house, i puffed on another pipe and we talked about career options. Dad suggested working for the US government and i laughed. I thought about it some more and laughed again.

Sitting at the computer with textbooks open around me, the day rolls into the next one at midnight. I stretch and yawn to Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic" and resignedly start highlighting and annotating for class.
More homework to finish tonight, and back at it tomorrow.
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111 km (69 miles) traveled
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