Cologne ('Cause Baby, You Stink)
Welcome to Cologne, home of all things bright and beautiful.
I find myself again in the city of the Collners, the Koelners, and the Geissboecke. I am not there for any of these three, however, rather I am there to learn MicroStation (as mentioned previously). So they send me to such a room.
The high point is that out the window, there is such a pond, and such a cafe.
Such a pond is also stocked with such creatures: footlong goldfish. Frightening.
Sunday morning at the Dom: very pretty, quite full, and extremely German. I am not used to the Catholic liturgy, although much of it is probably much the same as my native Lutheranismityness. All except for the peace, with Mr. Dane Cook's so named "Peace Rap". No Reeses Pieces, nor pieces of lint, but many peaceful eyes indeed, especially after such a peaceful sermon. I feel I am a better person for it. And yet still, what a nice organ, and choir, and orchestra.
Early problems arose when my first hotel was, shall we say, inconvenient.
It was nice enough, though. Pictures are available with the link to follow. However, after a night I was transferred to the Collner Hof Hotel, right in the middle of the magic of Hansaring. The magic part referring, of course, to the fact that I had both a cafe and a laundromat within three blocks. A miracle, to be sure. It was nice, anyways.
I like my feet.
Anyways, much was done, not much of it picture-worthy. I found Koelners pretending to be a Maryland Jazz Band,
a poster advertising for Adam Green on a European tour (Heaven help us all)
and another boat! Boats are cool.
Anyways, all work and no play makes Ben a dull boy, so it is good that I was in Koeln. A nice city in which to spend a bit of time, and also to go running. Finally. My fat butt needs to do something other than translate once in a while.
The guy watching CNN World says hi.
All the pictures can be found here.
As always, do enjoy.
BHK
On the road
A capital Wednesday to you, the viewing audience.
I find myself this midweek back on a plane, but a rather small one I predict. I take a Fokker 100 (Fokker: Now there is a name I have not heard since I last watched the History Channel) to Cologne in a matter of five hours, and I just thought I would inform you all thereof before my boss gets in and we hurriedly shuffle off to the airport.
The Germans see fit to try to teach me their manner of drafting using MicroStation, a rough analogue to AutoCAD. How terribly exciting, but how potentially useful as well. We are talking skillsets here, people, and I indeed assume that many/most will recognize the value of tedious study. I do it eight months of the year already.
School is back in session. Pencils up.
Necessary conveniences
It is about time I received it, but it still is somewhat of a novelty to have my name on a German bank card.
Offshore accounts are the new plaid.
Come on, oh my star is fading
Amsterdam, it must be said, is a beautiful city, even despite its reputation for being far too much fun for those inclined in the more bohemian aspects of fun-having. Canals run through much of the central portion of this historical port city, and one still sees the effects upon architecture that the merchant trade required. All along the canal routes, there still hang hooks from posts jutting out from the crests of the angled roofs, artifacts (I would assume) of a necessity for raising goods up the facade of the building, for there was certainly no open vertical space within; most of these individual buildings, although most abut directly to the next, are only wide enough to afford three closely packed windows. Many buildings also lean at angles uncommon in normal, modern, and/or safe construction. A historical ghetto lean...
Now that I am finished with expatiating in the style of a Frommers guide, let us get to the pictures, shall we?
The train workers union in the Netherlands, including those that perform track maintenance and switching tasks, walked off the job for a single day on friday to protest a refusal of a wage hike by their employers. As a result, no train outside of local streetcars and metro lines moved, at all, anywhere in the country. This being terribly detrimental to the ability of Americans working as interns in Germany to get to the city of Amsterdam, we met in Oberhausen, a city mere miles short of the border, so that we could use a car for the trip through the Netherlander countryside. The car was supplied from the fleet maintained by the employers of one Michelle, and she, being as resourceful as she is pretty, was able even to get one with an automatic transmission. Also occupying the car was the boy Michael, who is as loquacious as he is interested in herring, and Morgan, who is indeed also as attractive as she is interested in things that are not herring. No matter.
Mike, saturday morning, walking through the flower market.
By chance, we happened to find that we, and the World Press Photo 2005 exhibition, were both in Oudekerk church at the same time. Coincidence? I think not. Pictures of the church were taken, because taking pictures of pictures, while possibly very deep in some metaporical or poetic way, seems silly to me.
Nice organ. (tee hee)
No, but seriously. And shame on the Calvinists that painted over the original mural work, almost none of which remains.
Anyways. Lunch is taken at a pleasant canalside cafe, with little to no regard for what the sun is indeed doing to our collective skins.
Michael's friend is a girlfriend of a coworker, who gives him a pass to get into museums for free; he just has to act French to do so. The following is honestly the best part about Europe.
Food, glorious food.
Other such things are enjoyed. The Van Gogh museum is very nice, I must also note, although obviously no photography is allowed inside. Photography is, however, allowed outside at a fountain, and of course is required when soft-serve (even lackluster versions thereof) is also present.
Doodle opened fart?
On that topic, allow me to say something regarding the Dutch language. It is utterly, and without argument, hilarious to read and even funnier to listen to. No such amount of sequential vowels should ever be allowed in any reasonable language, a distiction I am now defining as "anything not Dutch". It is obviously the language of a nation smashed in between France, Germany, and England, and it should, however, be taken as a sign of the resourcefulness and flexibility of its inhabitants that they have been able to live there, happily, for so long while this army or that army or this or that navy rolls on by and/or through.
A pleasant city, enjoyable, it turns out, for even the more square of us.
The boy in the fountain says hi.
The rest of the pictures can be found here.
As always, do enjoy.
BHK
Coffee Black
As the first in what will more than likely be a long series about how it is working in this place in which I do, I treat you all to my coffee espresso break.
My coffee break is better than your coffee break.
This break, celebrated twice a day (10:00 and 14:00), is held, weather permitting, in the backyard
or, weather not permitting, in the kitchen in the basement.
A fantastic wake up, especially the morning after learning the art and processes of the biergarten, courtesy of my bosses and with setting of the beautiful Hirschgarten, whose bier, if I may say, is delicious when cold. Ribs are not bad, pretzels are great. But the understood process of obtaining a Mass (one liter of beer) is something of an art, and someday I must illustrate it for you all.
Until then, and as always, do enjoy.
BHK
Just keep truckin' on
Another point for this interesting day. It has come to pass, that in the time when I am in Germany, I have a boss that insists that I learn how to drive a stick shift automobile. Now, for lack of other automobiles (we will be getting a company VW of some type, but have not yet) on which to practice, his own BMW has been the scapegoat of my attempts at acceleration.
Feel sorry for this car.
More requests, including that of my office and life therein, I am planning on attending to later this week. Sit tight, all, and I will fill you all in on eveything there is to know about life in the big city, or cities rather, for I am also scheduled to be making visits to Amsterdam this weekend.
And as always, do enjoy.
BHK
Big things! Big things!
A weekend in Munich, and another weekend in Munich. Imagine my surprise when, after not finding very much of anything the first, on the second I run across
a Laura! So conveniently in town, with a troupe of several others learning also the German language in Mayen, that we decide to meet at track 1 in the central train station.
A quick note to the travel-savvy: there is no track 1, nor 2-4 in the central train station in Munich. There is, of course, 5-37.
(I apologise to Laura for the picture, by the way, it really is a work of art.)
Friday evening and Saturday morning is enjoyed with the aforementioned, with whom on Saturday I tour the Deutsches Museum, which, for the travel-savvy again, is indeed IN the Isar River. Awfully nifty. The Deutsches Museum is tremendous, in the words of Lloyd Carr, and not in the words of Lloyd Carr, it is indeed still tremendous. An engineer's dream, it covers an island in the Isar, and is full entirely of exhibits cataloguing the development of every major science. Far too many pictures were taken, almost all of which are far too boring to post (they all, of course, can be found here).
A kind hello from our friend, the afterburner.
Now that is a treat. A Soviet-Era Soyuz reentry capsule, in mint condition (or a close to mint as a bit of stuff can be after reentry), even with the parachute and "CCCP: Help! Man Inside!" One of few priviliges afforded the country for having been occupied for so many years.
Even an engineer, however, can sift through the artifacts of his profession only for so long. So, bidding a fair adieu to the mass from Mayen, I jump aboard the UBahn north to a stop in Froettmanning, which is to say "Place in which finals of the 2006 World Cup shall be played", that is, Munich's new home for FC Bayen Muenchen and FC Muenchen 1860, the Allianz Arena.
Constructon was just finished very early this year on this great powder doughnut of the north, and has hosted only two matches so far, one between Bayern Muenchen and 1860 (which, surprisingly enough, 1860 won), and a game between Bayern Muenchen and the German National Team (i think, and the outcome unknown to my own self). Although I felt not the need to go and take the tour (required to get any kind of good look at the pitch and the seats and such), several pictures are taken anyways, all of which are again available here.
You'll Never Walk Alone.
As always, do enjoy.
BHK
Minilimania?
One note I must submit is the simple fact that all of the personal cars here, and this is so far without evidence to the contrary, are by necessity tiny. Not to mention that they all are manuals as well, which is cause of some small amount of tribulation concerning myself and our company BMW, on which I am learning (slowly, but with a high degree of propensity) to propel and control such machines, but these cars are all, and without exception, just as large as my foot. The family car is a four seater, maybe with a wagon design; the biggest semi I have seen is that size on which men are first trained for commercial licenses in the States - maybe 24'. In short, I can rent from U-Haul the largest European land vehicle. When in America, that is; rental trucks I have seen here are no larger than a food-delivery box truck.
In other news, our office has a dog.
Actual interesting, picture-enhanced updates to come once I have done something interesting and taken pictures. My work will indeed be one of these, but for the moment I am not daring to venture around my office with camera in hand, frightening my coworkers, who already have to deal with my crippled german language skills.
For the moment, do enjoy.
BHK
Gang aft agley.
To begin, there is, of course, a bit of prerequisite work, all of which can be found more or less in a here direction. Yes, there are a lot. Yes, I still do have much larger versions of *all* of them, so if you see a picture of, say, YOU, and want a beautiful hi-res version which you can send to your parents, or if you see a picture of particular beauty and elegance that you simply cannot live without seeing posted on your wall, or if you see one that is just fuzzy from the Photoshop resize algorithm (trust me, the big version is just gonna be fuzzier) and want it to blow up to make fun of me, just toss me an email, lads and/or lasses.
What may this/these email address/addresses be/be?
Well get savvy to
benjahen@umich.edu
or
b.h.kienman@gmail.com
But anyways. Onwards we go, where last we met the wary traveller, he was standing on a platform at the central train station in Munich, with two duffels, a backpack, an iPod, and a thoroughly frazzled look about him. He is soon to find that his room, his home for the next ten weeks, is the size of a foot locker...
Oh the humanity. And to think, the traveller had expected to be done with community showers. Such sad misunderstanding.
The following days were uneventful. Such things as a Deutsche Bank account and residency permit were obtained, but the traveller's spirits sank low. Low, he felt, as the gravel beneath his feet as he approached the castle at Nymphenbourg, a mere twenty minute walk from his pittance of a room. However, the gardens captivated him. He looked to the grand facade...
to the long, majestic canal...
and to the waterfowl, which included such an odd looking gander as such...
The palace at Nymphenbourg sports a facade longer than Marsailles, which I suppose says something, and what it says is, "Loooooook at me, and all the money I have, and all the money you have not." Still very pretty.
Happily walking around to the back - where an immense park awaits, spat in the middle of Munich - I find the following:
1.) The back of the house
2.) I am Neptune, King of the Sea! I loose storms and sink ships!
(No you are not. I am. And you know nothing of my work.)
3.) More waterfowl
Mallard mallard mallard mallard.
The path leads for a great distance around another canal such as the one stretching out from the front facade; the combined effect of the two leave Nymphenbourg, on maps, to have a queer sattelite-like appearance. Several other buildings of architectural significance litter the grounds as well, like this, oddly deemed the "Pagoda", evidently:
Statues also stand, recline, and generally make themselves quite at home among the trees, bushes, and fountains as well. The grounds staff was doing their best to provide them with new bulbs to watch grow and bloom while I was observing, as well.
All in all, it was an enjoyable afternoon - probably the first that I had been able to enjoy in Munich. I mean, who could not enjoy such a view from their back porch?
Far be it from me to be the first.
The rest of the pictures, as well as the source for those you already see, can be found more or less here.
As always, do enjoy.
BHK
One Week
A pleasant Sunday afternoon finds me finally with enough time - and the necessary resources - to update you all.
I am indeed in Munich, finally, after forty-eight hours in Cologne with the best bunch of linguistic (and otherwise) geniuses I could have possibly hoped to meet. Roll call was fifteen names long, including seven from the University of Michigan, two from Yale, two from Cornell, and one each from Michigan State, Iowa, Texas-Austin, and Toledo (or, the "real U-T", as Scott insisted). Too many highlights exist to list them all now, a week stale. Learned that a invalid S-Bahn ticket is a 40-. Euro offence. Learned also that fifteen people huddled together in a foreign country will very quickly find friendship in each other (aww).
Cologne is a nice city with a homeless population that has taken to finding companionship in dogs, usually enormous in proportion. The Dom dominates the skyline from pretty much any direction; climbing the tower (as we did, in a drizzling rain no less) places one at a dizzying height above street level, and affording a luxurious view of the Rhein, also the central train station. The interior of the cathedral is beautiful as well, sporting a jaunty set of tapestries, several organs (one of which hangs - yes, hangs - from the roof, at a height of what must be at least eighty feet above the paritioners below), and the tomb of what I collect is a Pope, of name I could not decipher; I noticed it while observing Gottensdienst one morning, and could obviously not simply stroll on over for a closer look.
Another fantastic quality of the city is the fact that it is in Germany, and thus the local beer (much of which is of the Koelsch variety, a light pale lager) is fantastic. This is enjoyed with a bowl of goulash on the first evening, with an audience of five fabulous ladies of the orientation group. Note: goulash = not the sexiest of the food varieties.
Pictures from this part of the trip will be posted, but only by a link (and you all are perfectly welcome to romp around my UMich AFS space). This will be done later as well, once 1.) I can post the pictures to said AFS space, and 2.) I can resize them all so that it does not take forever to do so - I doubt many of you want desktop-plus sized pictures of, for example, my first step on British soil (or tarmac, anyways).
Coming soon: "Venturing to Munich", or "Where the hell did everybody go?"
As always, do enjoy.
BHK
