Deutschland (Oestrich-Winkel & Wiesbaden)

It was a relief to be greeted by a Felix on the other side of the airport at midnight.
He had sweettalked a friend into lending him their car to pick me up. I babbled the whole way home. Stuff about how the trees in Europe look surprised (they point directly up! they really do look surprised to me! like someone throwing their arms up!). Stuff about how Italian men are too racey for me. Stuff about how much I love German.
And an hour later, we were in his itty bitty vineyard town of Oestrich-Winkel.

We woke up late, and so did his roommates. After a lazy morning, Felix made all 4 of us a nice brunch of eggs, cheeses, salami, and breads. Ah, to be German...
Felix and I sally-forthed through the little center of his old town. I just love small German towns. They are so personal and....simply adorable. Even the architecture I enjoy!
He gave me the grand tour of his college, European Business School; population 800, which is ridiculously small but whatever. It's a nice (though tiny) campus, fake castel ruin included. He ran into a bunch of his classmates and talked to them, while I sat dumbly listening to German.
And then we meandered through the vineyards.
To quickly run back to his school and watch a play called "Top Dogs". Mind you: German school, German students....German play. I didn't understand a damn word of it. 2 hours of it. Felix tried to keep me abreast, but I had barely a clue as to what was happening. Another hour of sheer headache.
We then ate dinner outside at this really small and nice restaurant near his flat. Really tastey wine. And schnitzel.....which was I consider my German experience. It was alright. I don't think it was my favorite, though. And then Felix's British roommate, Chris, drove us to a bar in the next town over to meet up with their classmates for a few pints. I have found the best beer ever: Weissebier. Sooooo good! Oh man, tasted almost fruity. Delicious.
Felix and Chris brought a few people back to their place to have some more alcohol....but I don't speak German, so it was a quite few hours for me. One girl was Dutch, and came over to speak to me in English, thank God.

But don't get me wrong; I loved seeing Felix. He's one of those guys that, though we bicker and argue and annoy each other like a pack of siblings, he really is an amazing guy and I love him dearly. He's such a great friend. Especially considering he always drops everything whenever I come to visit him, and does his best to keep me entertained. We're like family or something.

Next day, I woke up and went for a jog in the vineyards. The first half was terrible; I was panting and heaving and barely moving. I didn't know what was WRONG! Was it my allergies flaring up? Was I already out of shape? Then I turned around to head back, and I started unexpectedly running downhill...
Chris made us a wonderfully homemade lunch, and we ate on their balcony.
And then Felix and I took a train to go into Wiesbaden, capital of the state. It is quite a nice city...kind of small. Reminded me a lot of a very small Boston, except the trees and cathedrals. We walked around the pedestrian areas for a few hours...we bought lots of candy from a not-Haribo-but-arguably-better shop called Bären-Treff. And sampled all of it, lovingly. And then we bought some gelato, and ate that. Such a glutonous day, really.
We got back a few hours afterwards, and I conked out dead cold for a few hours. Woke up to order pizza with Felix, and watch the German "American Idol", "Super Star". It's better than the French one, but still really bad.
And then I packed and slept.

The next day Felix and I ran to get on the train to Frankfurt for my train back to Paris. We ate Häagen-Dazs (which is, in fact, an American brand, FYI). And then I set sail to Paris.
And I read a LOT.
And I played with the most adorable baby ever. Huge eyes. Tongue out. Really priceless.

I got back to Paris to be greeted by Pierre who helped me back home with everything and cooked me a great (and tastey!) dinner. And I though to myself, this is bliss. I could keep doing this for a while. Travel for a while, meet up with old friends, and then come home to someone making homemade meals for me. The only problem I had was Pierre showing off his new diplomatic passport to me. Jerk.