Day 88. Leanne Here.

Leanne here again. Ok I promise Kyle will be back tomorrow for all of you missing his amazing humor. 

We awake way too early - 4 am?.  It’s our travel day to Paris but more excitedly we get to leave this “cozy” Airbnb that we put up with for the week.  Even the spiders grew tired and left it.  The “anger challenged” neighbor upstairs never bothered us again so we feel quite fortunate Kyle’s well-calculated, well-played “cool, calm and collected” approach of warning him through intermediaries that we would call the police if he tried that stunt again seemed to have worked.  

I’ve promised John is that if we get packed, complete our shed (that’s when we prepare a box of souvenirs and extraneous items for box to ship home) smoothly, going to see Asamkirche is a real possibility. So he hustles to make it happen. 

[Kyle’s recounting of DHL debacle]

It’s time to shed more weight as our stuff seems to grow and expand of its own accord. I’m convinced there’s a gremlin hiding in a secret panel in one of the bags that comes out at night and multiples the stuff we aren’t using and don’t need into even more stuff we aren’t using and don’t need.  There is a Duetsche Post – DHL store right around the corner from our Airbnb so we decide to take advantage of this to ship said “shed stuff” before taking the train to Paris.

 I already know it’s not a good sign when we need 5 people to carry the shed stuff to the DHL.  I ask the woman behind the counter if she speaks English and she responds “No!” I start pointing at the pre-made packages behind the counter and the clerk says “wait,” and she goes outside and gets a woman who was standing on the street corner and brings her back “she’ll help you.” So the woman who says she doesn’t speak English but appears to speak perfect English has handed me off to the woman on the street corner who hasn’t said a word yet.  

 So I try pointing to the boxes again.  “I need a really big box,” I say.  As it turns out, DHL’s definition and my definition of large box are not the same and we end up needing 4 DHL boxes to fit all the shed stuff in them.  We have to set up an assembly line in the middle of the floor to assemble the boxes, distribute the shed stuff between the 4 boxes, wrap the glass stuff in bubble wrap, tape the boxes and fill out the forms. After what seems like an eternity, we have the packages ready to go and we carry them to the counter.

 The woman looks at the packages and forms and gives me a look that says the German equivalent of “Oh Vey!”  She takes the first form and has to get the woman that doesn’t speak English but actually does to help.  The issue that develops is that apparently my 4 international packages are so complex and time consuming that every time a customer comes in the store, they both stop my packages and help the new customer.  This goes on and on until I realize that we’ve been there 2.5 hours and my need to leave for the train in less than 30 mins.

We are finally done and the bill comes out to be 255 Euros.  I take out my credit card and am greeted with the now all too familiar “No!” “No credit card?” I ask. “Only German credit card, otherwise cash,” she responds. I decide to cut my losses and head out with Justin to find an ATM although that’s easier said than done.  The ATM seems an interminable distance but I successfully get the euros and return to the store.  

In looking at the bill, I realize that they have made several mathematic errors which result in overcharging me by 35 euros.  I try to explain what the right calculation should be but both of them seem confused and are talking to each other in German.  They finally get out a calculator and add up the numbers and agree with my calculation. I pay and return to the Airbnb with the trip clocking in at just under 3 hours and I plead with the group “please, no more souvenirs.”Meanwhile, John, Corey and I get our God on and take an Uber over to Asamkirche. We enter the nearest church take photos and I’m ready for a quick return.  However beautiful, John informs m it wasn’t Asamkirche after all. 

[Now back to Leanne]

So we walk one more block to the real Asamkirche (this place better be worth it!) and feel blessed we managed a two-church morning.  Asamkirche is an interesting marble and gold Baroque church that was originally built by a wealthy family as a private church to ensure salvation.  A group of European teens on a school field trip enter and barely look upwards at the beautifully carved statues, the intense emotional paintings up to the ceiling, or the intense wood carvings with Biblical scenes.  They seem to be more interested in each other than these holy surroundings.  It reminds me of how much I perhaps do not always  appreciate the beach we live near - it’s just always there so why value it highly today. 

Back at the Airbnb, I’m feeling pretty holy now. Two churches.  I’m already packed.  I’m on time.  Almost thought I might deserve a second cup of coffee today? 

Back at the “cozy” Airbnb, I’m sitting with teens in the living room looking at our phones soaking in possibly today’s only WiFi opportunity.  

All of the sudden, this guy opens the door with the same description the kids gave me of dude upstairs.  He starts speaking to me curtly in German with a look that says “Get out, I’m here.”

Ahhhhhh!  I’m both shocked and scared at this point. Not again!  This random guy just walked in on us and starts telling us what to do.  Again!  

All the holiness earned this morning flies out the window and a little Jersey comes up.  

After few short, curt but fumbling interchanges with this unknown man, I realize he’s legitimate and the Airbnb checkout is a super early 10 am.  I learn despite having an identical description to “mad upstairs neighbor”, he’s just the cleaning guy and he’s got four hours to clean this place.   

Now that we got that miscommunication past us, He becomes totally nice and understanding.  I share I was startled as the I mistook him for creepy “mad neighbor”.   Now I’ve opened up the can of worms. The cleaning guy then proceeds to gossip with me in perfect English.  All about the guy upstairs and how just last week he almost went to physical blows with the last Airbnb guests. How he was not particularly fond of Americans and even has right-wing tendencies.  By now, I’m thrilled to order an Uber out of this place.  Bye bye Germany! 

Hmm.  Glad we avoided escaping without me meeting him after all. I think to myself how wonderful it is to have my Uber-professional husband handle such matters. 

Ten minutes later, as we are getting into the uber to the Train station, the REAL mad neighbor catches my eye on the street as he enters the building’s courtyard.  He is exactly how the kids described him.  As he noticed me notice him, he starts to walk faster and sneak by us all. I asked the teens to confirm if it’s him this time as I can only suspect.  I make sure he hears my comments and after I confirm it’s him I scream “you jerk!” at the top of my lungs echoing through the mini tunnel to the courtyard as I’m in full-on Jersey girl mode now!   My whole clan is utterly shocked and a bit mortified over my Mother-Bear-meet-Jersey coming out. 

One of them mumbles “mom, really?”

Oh well. I guess Kyke’s “calm cool and colllected” soft stick approach needed a bit of Jersey in there too!  

The rest of the day we trainschooled over to Paris. We are so excited to see the French family we befriended over the last 25 years with teen exchanges and other visits. They are so fabulous to host us (this time 7 of us!) yet again and, because of their amazing warmth and hospitality to me and my family over the years, coming to Paris always feels a bit like coming home.