Putenschnitzels and Canadians, among other things

Church bells were ringing the Angelus while I struggled to open my eyes on our second morning in Düsseldorf. It's been a while since I've heard church bells and later that night, I would laugh at the irony of how that day started and ended.

I took a stroll around the block before breakfast and it was refreshing to breathe in so much fresh, albeit very cold, air. Pigeons greeted me chirpy guten morgens, and the trees nodded their hallos. A couple of teenage boys were passing around a basketball in the street while their parents debated about which car to take. An early morning jogger was huffing and puffing behind me. Commuters were waiting for the train to arrive. It was all very country, if you discount the grey square buildings around the area. 

After another carb-laden meal, I dragged my crappy luggage down to the lobby, ready for checkout. I didn't realize that I had left my PJs (my favorite ones too!) lying on the bathroom floor. Leaving things seem to be the main theme of this particular trip. Anyway, we were headed to the fairgrounds again, for a last jaunt around and between the attractive booths to collect more brochures and business cards. It was a successful visit overall, if I do say so myself. We got new ideas for our projects, more contacts, plus, after some professional banter regarding possible partnerships in retail projects, a charming Aussie contractor offered me his booth's couch to rest on, "in case my feet got tired with all that walking." *winksmilewink* Now that's networking. :P

Ate Yvonne met up with a childhood friend, Bes (a fellow iska!), who was taking her Masters at a university in a nearby town, and she helped us navigate Düsseldorf Haufbahnhof (the main station) to secure train tickets to Amsterdam. And what a good thing too, as everything was in German. I noticed that like everywhere in Düsseldorf, the station was 50-60% populated with cute dogs. Bes said that there seemed to be more dogs than children in Germany. I'm not sure how statistically true that is, but it sure looked like it. Anyway, we managed to get seats on the 3pm trip, so we had enough time to grab lunch. I was eyeing a sumptuous-looking dish with mushrooms and gravy which Bes said must be Putenschnitzel or turkey cutlet, and she wanted the same. So we asked the good lady for Putenschnitzel, bitte. Ja, zwei. A few minutes later, the lady came up with two plates carrying what looked like fried turkey breast topped with pineapples and smothered with cheese. Uh, sorry, we asked for Putenschnitzel. Ja! Putenschnitzel! Oh. Oops. It was satisfying, just the same. Although the mushrooms and the gravy looked really good. Maybe next time.

An hour later, we bid Bes goodbye and hopped on the Inter-City Express train number 24. We were seated in first class which, we would realize two days later, wasn't all that different from the second class. The only perks we got from the more expensive ticket were the service of a train attendant and a chocolate each. And ok, a couple more inches of legroom. But, really, it wasn't that big of a difference.  Note to self: if I ever take the ICE again (and I will!), travel second class. I could do without the attendant and the chocolate.

During the 2 hour trip, I drifted between daydreaming and eavesdropping on a conversation between two Canadians, a Dutch and Brazilian seated in front of me on the opposite aisle. 

One funny piece:

Dutch: Are Canadians a lot like Americans?

Canadian 1: Language-wise, probably, yeah

Canadian 2: But we're nicer people. We don't make problems for anyone.

All together: Hahahahaha

Canadian 1 caught me eavesdropping at that point because I couldn't help but snicker. *Guilty smile.* He smiled back. Whew. 

The German and Dutch countryside was very picturesque. Despite the fact that most trees were stripped bare by the season, the fields were still green, and charming brick houses dotted the landscape. Horses were grazing here and there, a few scarecrows stood menacingly over their lands and plump sheep gathered like giant cottonballs. Shame we didn't see the traditional windmills, they must've been on the other side or something. Nevertheless, the scenery made for an entertaining ride, other people's conversations aside. :D

After a few more fields, several more stops and lively discussions about heroine addiction, the US elections and trade fairs, the head train attendant finally announced, "We have reached our last stop for this trip, Amsterdam Centraal. Thank you for travelling with ICE International and we hope to see you again in one of our future trips."

Ah, Amsterdam. Oh, Amsterdam.

to be continued...