Der Große Ami mit Stock

"The Historic Sausage Kitchen" located on the banks of
the Donau, supposedly 900 years old and built to cater
to the laborers working on the neighboring stone bridge

More than once since arriving, I have been referred to as "the big American with the cane," and that is because three days before leaving California, on a particularly foggy night in the Balboa Peninsula, I slipped on some wet steps and bruised my heel bone. Luckily nothing was broken, no torn ligaments, just an annoying injury that takes a long time to heal (no pun intended). This made for a particularly difficult travel day, and has been the source of many strange looks ranging from sympathy to ones with a curled upper lip that seem to say "why hasn't this cripple been sent to Dachau yet?" In fact, one old man who thought I had walked away already said "it pains me to see such a powerful young man struck down in his prime." Almost four weeks later I am nearly able to walk without it, hopefully I will be able to start leaving it at home sometime in the next week. On the plus side, it has been a great conversation starter when going out at night, including one big black bouncer who made me open up my flannel shirt-jacket because he said I had a "gangster walk" to which I replied, "yeah, a baby-faced gangster, maybe." Clearly this guy wasn't from the States or he would have known better.

Simply the best: sausages, sauerkraut, a roll,
a Weißbier, and their house-made,
course-ground sweet mustard

For a little more than the first few weeks I was here I was living in a hostel, in a room of 8-10 people, while I was on the apartment hunt and waiting to hear if I got a spot in the dorms. The housing situation here is extremely difficult, there aren't nearly enough dormitories so the already-cramped private housing market is flooded with students trying to get into an apartment. To compound it, some of the dorms are undergoing renovations, making it even harder to get a spot in them. In the days before I left for Germany, I arranged for six different apartment inspections, upon arriving and checking my email, all but one had cancelled saying they had already found someone. The remaining inspection involved me and a half-dozen others shuffling through a tiny apartment, all trying to make ourselves seem like the ideal candidate. I later learned this was a pretty small group, another person staying in the hostel said he showed up to an appointment and there were no less than three dozen people there. Similarly, I was applying to roommate situations but with a similar rate of attrition, and once again, was looking at an apartment with a handful of other people, all trying to make ourselves seem like the perfect roommate: neat but not  uptight, fun but considerate, trying to make good with the dog. People tend to regard dogs and babies as the best measures of a person, if someone's dog growls at you, or if someone's baby cries when you hold them, the alarms go off "Bad Person! Bad Person!" So thankfully, after slowly and cautiously approaching me, the old bitch (used literally) gave my fingers some enthusiastic licks. It later occurred to me that I had eaten right before the appointment, and the dog may simply have been savoring the flavor on my hands! Nonetheless, the next day I got an email that someone's friend from home was looking for a place to stay, but that I would have been their first choice otherwise, and said they'd like to go get a drink sometime.

The Stone Bridge, currently undergoing renovations.

This continued for sometime, and as the end of September approached I grew continuously more nervous. Even if I did get an apartment, it would probably be more than I could really afford, once again I wouldn't have the money to travel much while over here, I would have to put up a deposit plus pay 2.3 months rent to the Realtor (they control the housing market here, there is almost no renting directly from landlords and sublets are just as rare). Just when I had given up hope of getting a place in the dorms, I got an email to the contrary from the Studentenwerk. I had a very affordable room available October 1. I felt tremendously relieved, went out and bought a bag of beers and handed them out to everyone staying in my room, most of whom were either on the housing-hunt still, or waiting for their dormitory like me.

Now, I felt more apt to explore the sights of beautiful Regensburg, one of the oldest cities in Germany (and actually known as Ratisbon for most of its existence) and a UNSECO World Heritage Site. It's name comes from the river Regen which joins the Donau (or Danube) here. Regen also means rain in German, and is a convenient coincidence because the weather here greatly resembles that of the Pacific Northwest, hence the oft-perceived misnomer "Raincity." Generally considered to be part of Bavaria, and legally it is, the city is technically the capitol of the Oberpfalz or "Upper Palatinate" and enjoys a mixture of cuisine from the neighboring regions, and an unfiltered beer that more closely resembles a Franconian (i.e. Nuremberg) style Keller Bier, although the Bavarian Helles and Weißbier styles are the most popular.

Regensburger Dom (South Side)

The city is built on the site of a far-flung Roman fortress, the walls of which are now incorporated into some the buildings along the Donau which runs through the city, most of which lies to the south. In spite of the relative assimilation of the 1000+ strong garrison, they were nonetheless wiped out by the local Germanen in the late 4th century as it became clear that the empire was receding and the garrison was without hope of external support so far out on the frontier. The city became a bishopric in the 7th century, and the construction of its stone bridge, still in use today, in the 12th century confirmed it as the most important city of medieval Bavaria. Its cathedral, whose construction began in the 13th century, is considered to be the finest example of south-German Gothic architecture. The bridge and cathedral were constructed by generations of craftsman who had only the most basic knowledge of physics and geometry, every stone hand cut, constructed entirely without the use of cranes, which  the Romans had made use of to construct their fortress (they were the greatest engineers in history, of course utilizing thousands of slaves, and only to be surpassed by industrial-era builders). For the last few centuries of the Holy Roman Empire, the "Kaiser" was elected here in a special chamber in the town hall, sitting a few floors above the dungeon and torture chamber. The city is beautifully lit at night, although the cobble-stone streets make walking with a can and a bruised heel a little trying.

A particularly beautiful tree on the Donau

One of the most interesting and often frustrating experiences when abroad is grocery shopping. It's like when your neighborhood market has been remodeled and is now organized differently, but they also decided to put everything in a new language, and my grocery store vocabulary has taken a few weeks to come back to me. What is nice is that the high food standards here in comparison with the US, so even at a relatively cheap market you can still get decent meat, fresh produce, and a wide range of cheeses. My first day out at the market, I fell back into Au Pair mode, and found myself keeping an eye out for the products I used to buy for the family in worked for in Berlin, who have now assumed new posts in Dublin. When at checkout, I unfortunately was stuck behind what looked to be about a 135-year-old, 85-pound nun, who was apparently very hard of hearing and a little senile, as the cashier had to tell her what her total was about five times. What can you do? Good for her for still doing her own shopping.

I want to thank everyone for taking the time to read-up on what I am doing here. Next time I will talk about moving into the dorms and getting started at the university, a well as a short trip back to Munich to visit a few of my old housemates who are completing advanced degrees, and a return visit to Oktoberfest.

Servus!