German Trains and Punctuality

As Stephanie says, "German Trains and Punctuality is an overstatement." They definitely have a...creative way of thinking about transfer times and how 30 seconds is enough time to descend a train, find out which platform you need to be on, run to it, run back to the info board to check it's the right train, run into the train, watch the doors close, freak out that you got on the wrong train, and resign yourself to the fact that this train is possibly not going the direction you want to.

That pretty much sums up the five hours (ish) it took to get from Friedrichshafen to Füssen. And we had to switch trains four times. Once, we got off and thought we had missed our stop because our next train wasn't on the platform in Kaufbeuren, then realized our train had been 70 seconds late...and we'd missed our connection.

Thankfully the direction wasn't an odd one, and another train came a while later.  We arrived in Füssen with a couple of hours of daylight left.

In case you were wondering,  Füssen is THE CUTEST EVER.

EVER. 

(it's so cute it needs its own post)

Concerning Airports and the People in Them

I've always enjoyed flying. I love walking between gates and guessing where everyone is going. I love the feeling of the plane taking off, when the g-forces push you into the chair.

I don't, however, love babies on planes. Or, for that matter, men who apparently can't sit still and therefore slam themselves back and forth in their chairs. Sir. This is not a rollercoaster.

Briele's and my flight to London, besides the crazed baby and the dude who seemed determined to get my dinner all over my lap, went really well. Our layover in JFK proved that I've been spoiled with DIA. Would it kill New York to have a couple of bathrooms that both have working stall locks AND unclogged toilets?

We were supposed to meet Stephanie in Victoria Station, so after we melted in the sauna that was customs for non-EU passports, I went into business mode to find the Tube entrance. Of course, this meant that I went so much into business mode that I walked right past Steph in the arrivals area. Oops. I promise I missed her. I just didn't *see* her.

We decided to skip a hostel for the night, since it's kind of ridiculous to pay £17 per person when you have a 6:30 flight out of a new airport.

Speaking of new airports, Gatwick is....tiny. we couldn't go through security until 4 a.m., and we got there around 10:30 p.m. Sooooo what do you do when you're at an airport 6+ hours early? You curl up with 40 other people in a waiting area overlooking the lobby. And then you pretend to be able to sleep.

It was kind of like letting a chair put you in an awkward yoga position, then falling asleep because you couldn't do anything else. But you didn't wake up feeling relaxed...you woke up feeling like a year of your life had been sucked out through your spine.

The final airport we arrived in was in Friedrichshafen, Germany. Our flight was half an hour early. If you want to see something amusing, drop a plane-full of people into an airport with about four total check-in desks, then give them no one to pick them up and no trains for an hour.

Hint: even the expression for "Da heck am I supposed to do now?" is pretty much internationally recognized.

And then....we encountered trains.

A Tribute to Kaylee

Here’s to a girl I only spoke to twice.

A girl who was a friend to my sister, a light among her peers, and an incredible encouragement to anyone experiencing hard times.

I don’t remember the first time I met Kaylee McBeth; I just know that she was one of many little blond girls running around with my sister on the soccer field.  There was a whole throng of them, always giggling and following the ball like its gravity was pulling them in.  On those sunny spring days, Kaylee was a bundle of kindergarten energy and grins.

Many years later, I had the chance to teach French at my old high school, where my sister was a senior.  It was surreal to walk the halls, but it was stranger to be surrounded by my sister’s friends.  Some of them were even in my classes, and that was weirder yet.  Kaylee wasn’t one of my students, but not a week went by that she didn’t affect someone or something at the school.

Here’s to a girl so loved by the people around her, I never heard anyone speak ill of her.

It’s hard to be a teacher and not hear nasty things about so-and-so or such-and-such.  Especially at such a small school as the one I taught at – gossip spreads like food poisoning at Casa Bonita.  If I ever heard a word against her, it was that Kaylee was one of the few who was quite possibly too nice, too sweet, and too kindhearted. 

The few times I did see her around the school, a glow of joy followed her wherever she went.  Her family didn’t have the easiest time of it, yet she was constantly smiling.  Now that I think of it, I’m certain she had a smile on her face every time I saw her. 

Here’s to a girl I barely knew, who will be sorely missed by every person who knew her 

– and many who didn’t.

Kaylee lived above and beyond the circumstances of her own life and problems.  She radiated confidence that can only come through faith, and like a star, she blazed with beautiful luminosity.  Imagining a world without her is incredibly saddening, yet in a way she is the lucky one.  The basketball star and ever-laughing friend is closer to God than ever, and someday we will finally catch up to her.  Tragedy brings tears, but we can also be encouraged by her example.  Our hope is not in our current lives, it is far above us in the power and love of God.  Kaylee knew this, and I daresay this knowledge is part of what gave her so much joy.

In the wake of her sudden absence I have seen everything from news stories to old photos show up on my Facebook feed, but the consensus can be summed up in just a few words: We will all miss Kaylee.