Mein Gott!

We left the office and drove around a bit trying to find a place to park.  The TMP is a Mercedes van, not at all good for parking.  Then we walked around in circles looking for my hotel.  First the sergeant said “their’s your hotel” but later once we had parked, he confessed that he was just picking it because it was a hotel we were near.  We walked around looking for the correct hotel and finally gave up and he called the Trial Counsel, CPT Hanna who said it was actually the hotel he’d first picked.

We went there and it was gorgeous but obviously undergoing some substantial remodeling.  There was only a dog at home it first appeared, we yelled and rang the bell and got no one.  Finally some construction workers came downstairs and we exchanged pleasantries in our respective languages, though they didn’t seem to notice (or, less likely, they didn’t speak English) as they kept speaking in German.  We started to leave and the sergeant said there was another hotel closer to post he could take me to.  He described the area and I looked around me at the classic European village, the cobblestone streets, the bierhausen and das Bäckerei right across from the entrance and I said “this is too good, I’m going back to yell louder”.

I went in and yelled again “Hallo!” a few times quite loudly and rang the bell again.  Still no response, though more talking upstairs, more workers.  Back outside to ponder what to do.  Then the phone inside rings and I go back in, a woman is now magically sitting at the desk talking on the phone frantically taking notes.  She is wearing latex gloves and looks like she has been painting.  She gets off the phone and I find that she speaks English quite well (which probably isn’t surprising considering she’s at the desk in a hotel).  Anyway, they have no rooms, but they have another hotel around the corner, actually just beyond where we’d walked earlier when we were looking for a hotel (she describes this as “two minutes by feet”).  It’s hidden, but we find it eventually and it’s less than ten paces from Klosterbräu a rather largish brewery.  The hostess here speaks very little English (which is good, I don’t need to practice my English).  She shows me the room (apparently one should expect to check out the rooms here before committing).

Anyway, I’m trying to figure out if the sheets are missing, if I was supposed to bring my own, or if they don’t use such things!  I’m also wondering where to get some Euros so I can drink my first Rauchbier, the local specialty, “Rauch” means “Smoke” and I’ve heard several describe the beer as meaty or tasting of greasy bacon.  I also need a scarf so I will stand out less – all the local men are wearing scarves.  Time to explore!

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