No, I am not German!

It's true. I am really not a German. Now, most (if not all) of my close family and friends already know that I am in fact an American and not German. I don't think the word has spread around Europe yet. More on this in a minute...

Portion 2 has marked our journey eastward, and currently as I am typing this post I am sitting in a German cafe, checking my e-mail and updating this website, instead of searching for a hostel for tonight. Before leaving Europe I will have gone to Germany 4 separate times. A heads-up to all of you thinking about traveling to Rheinland-Pfalz and Nordrhein-Westfalen (Germany), hostels are expensive and scarce. I am doing my best to Couchsurf, but the 5 people that have responded all said they were going to Bavaria, ridiculous isn't it? So I may have to take to some creative measures in order to get by underbudget these next few days. However, some of you may be wondering why I am so intent on letting everyone know that I am not German.

The past couple of days I have traveled through Amsterdam, Brussels, Brugge, and Luxemburg. Since I have been traveled alone everyone I have talked to thought I was German, not Dutch nor Swedish nor Danish nor Finnish, nor any number of other possible, nearby nationalities. When I went to buy my ticket from Luxembourg to Trier, Germany, I asked the guy in French for a ticket on the next train. He then responded to me in German, so I talked back to him in French again, he still responded in German. For some reason, even though he spoke Luxembourgish (the national language of Luxembourg, sounds a lot like Flemish), English, French, and German he refused to think that I was anything but German. Well, not to draw this out too much, but this sort of thing has happened a lot the past three days.

Luxembourg was really cool. It marks the ninth country I have visited on this trip. My first experience in the country was meeting two Australians who had the strange habit of blaming everything that happened on Tom Hanks and the DaVinci Code. We were at the train station and they were trying to find the same hostel as me (just ask, where is THE hostel, there is only one in Luxembourg). They of course, thought I was German. We drank some beers, had a few laughs and took a little walking tour around the city. I went on three different tours of the city the next day, one of which was spontaneous and provided by a congressman.

The best place I visited in the past few days was the Hoegaarden factory in Hoegaarden, Belgium. Nithin and I thought we were going on a pilgrimage to find it because the streets were deserted as we aimlessly walked about the city in hopes to find this place. If you are ever in or around Brussels, make sure to ask at the tourist office how to get to the Hoegaarden brewery. The guy there meticulously planned out our journey there down to the minute we were suppose to get to the factory. The problem was we got off at the wrong stop once we got into Hoegaarden and there was no signs and nobody around to tell us where this place was.

The key to any great brewery tour is the chance to pour your own beer!!! The only two places we have poured our own beers have been the Beamish Factory in Cork, Ireland and here. (Also, our two favorite breweries).

Well, it is getting late now so I best be off and searching for a hostel. Wish me luck!

Auf wedersein

(Note - I tried to add photos but the damn internet is working too slow.