I have to tell you about this other thing I did that I’m real proud of. It doesn’t seem that interesting when I think about how to relay it, but I have to tell someone and I’m aaaall alone here.
So I’m in Bad Schandau, right? That’s the little town in Germany that’s at the end of the boat ride and at the bottom of the mountain. If you’ve been reading my blog, you know what I’m talking about. If not, shame on you. Stop reading and go back to the beginning.
Alright, Bad Schandau. I get to the bottom of the mountain, using the lift (The Lift!)…
And I have a couple of hours before my train leaves for Prague, so I wander around town a little. Pretty things, blah blah blah…
I’m wandering and wandering, and I come upon this sign that says “Castle, that way.” Except it’s in German – who knows how I figured out what it said (smartness, that’s how).
And I think, “Fuck yeah, I wanna see a castle.” Because this is essentially what I came to Europe for. To see a big-ass fucking castle.
So I start walking “that way” and eventually find this:
And I think “Oooooooh, here we go again…”
But somehow, despite the previous two days of climbing and un-climbing a big-ass mountain, I think “Yup, this is a great idea.” Because here’s why:
I may never be in Germany ever again. I may never have the chance to see a real castle THAT A PRINCESS LIVED IN, ever in my life, ever a-freaking-gain. So I can deal with my battered toes and my screaming calves and the thousand pounds strapped to my back, and climb a few stairs.
IT’S A CASTLE, Y’ALL.
So I start climbing…
Okay, for the next couple of minutes, this post is going to be pretty much the same as the last I-climbed-this-mountain-on-accident post in terms of “Oh my god, when will this end.” But I took more pictures this time, and they’re pretty. Here they are, for you:
Okay, so we started here:
And then here:
And then this:
And then eventually this:
Please note that someone has installed a CLIMBING WALL here, as if at this point I’d like to hang off a rock for a while. Pfft.
I climb the stairs (not the wall).
And then more stairs.
Until finally, I see….
A tiny fucking castle. Smaller than my bedroom. And I live in New York City, y’all.
This castle was so small, I wanted to punch it in the face. HOW DARE YOU MAKE ME CLIMB UP ANOTHER DAMN MOUNTAIN IF YOU’RE THIS SMALL.
NOT OKAY, CASTLE.
But my anger subsides a little, and I decide I might as well climb up and pretend I’m a princess or something (I totally am).
And the castle gave me this beautiful view, even though I was mean to it.
And then I apologized and we took some selfies together.
Also look at this cool tree hugging this other cool tree. I think the castle gave me that too. (He totally has a crush on me, I know it.)
After my hike back down, I rewarded myself with a huge sausage (heh heh heh – that was for you, Dad). Is it creepy that I just said that?
And then I found out that Robin Williams died.
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Epilogue: I know this is a horrible way to end this post, but that’s what happened. Sorry for the downer.
On a lighter note, why did they draw him? There’s got to be plenty of actual photos of Robin Williams out there, right? German’s are the shit, but they’re also a little weird sometimes.
Your skin looks amazing! Such a glow!
I’m pregnant.
Just kidding, I’m not pregnant. I actually noticed it too (and thank you). I think it’s cuz even the car exhaust is clean here. Also I’m taking a bunch of showers. And I’m happy. Could be any number of things, really. 🙂
Love the selfies and love the stairs!! Absolutely love the stairs!!!! My mom always makes fun of me for taking pics of stairs! And most of all love the blog!! So wait you take the lift down and then climbed back up!! Also can’t wait to hear about Prague!! LOVE Prague!!!! Beer is sooooo good
Yup, lift down, hike back up. I make a lot of sense, right?
Prague post on the way…….
Boy, you just kind of slipped that in about the lesbianism, didn’t you. Thought I would miss it? No way kiddo. Are the deets on another blog somewhere in the nether-blog world? If so let me know where. Also, whats the deal with that sausage. Did you eat it, or take it home for a shower?
Ladies and Gentlemen: My father.