I left Strasbourg around dinner time that day. Aurelie walked me to the train station and made sure that I found the right train, and with that, I was off to Offenburg, Germany. The ride to Offenburg was a short one, which I was happy for, since the train was similar to a bus ride in the US (not exactly my favorite thing in the world). I made it to Offenburg with plenty of time to hang out on the platform--there really wasn't anywhere else to go or anything else to do, since it was evening and everything was closed. I just waited on the platform. Eventually, I started talking to a girl my age who was also waiting. She was a backpacker from Canada, and she spoke mostly French, but her English was quite good as well. We talked for over an hour, comparing travel stories before the train arrived. When the train arrived, we headed to our separate cabins. I'd bought just a simple, reclining seat, so I wasn't expecting the world's most comfortable train ride, but I was actually pleasantly surprised. The seat reclined so far that I felt like I was almost lying down, and I fell asleep almost right away. I actually much prefer it to sleeper cabins on the overnight trains, now that I've experienced those as well (more on that to come later!).
The train arrived in Berlin early the next morning, and I had a few hours to kill before I needed to even check in at the airport, so I wandered around the train station, got something to eat, paid a euro to use a bathroom (seriously, why doesn't Europe have free bathrooms anywhere?), and finally headed to the help desk to ask how to get to the airport. I waited to be helped, and listened to the rather painful conversation between the German woman at the help desk and the three Asian tourists who were trying to talk to her. So I was, of course, very proud of myself when I was able to walk up to the desk and say "Entschuldigen, sprechen Sie Englisch?" She explained how to catch the bus, and I thanked her, and was on my way.
When I got to the airport, I had to wait another hour before I could check my bag and go through to wait in the terminal. So I wandered through the gift shop, and then went to the Burger King to buy some fries and pass the time. Finally, I was able to check my bag and go through the gate. When I got to the gate, I gave the immigration officer my passport and he flipped through it, glared at me, stared at the passport some more, glared at me again, and then--just as I was starting to think that maybe I should start explaining why the last stamp was from Paris, and here I was, standing in Berlin--he stamped my passport, handed it back to me, and waved me on without saying a single word!
Before I boarded the plane, I bought some of Europe's finest M&Ms from the duty-free shop. Seriously, European M&Ms are the best in the world! Then it was time to board the plane. It was a long eight hours from there until the pilot announced that we were entering US airspace, and it felt like several more hours passed before the plane finally touched down. I was home (almost)!
It didn't take long for me to get through immigration. The immigration officer asked a few questions about where I'd been and welcomed me home. I thanked him and went in search of my bag. I seem to have a pretty consistent streak of getting the last bag off the plane, no matter when I check in. Usually my bag rolls around the corner right when I'm starting to think "Well, that's it, they actually lost my bag!" But, like it always does, it came around the corner, and, with all my belongings safely in hand, I headed out onto American soil to meet my family.
We stopped at a restaurant on the way home, and, since I'd eaten on the plane, I didn't order anything except a water. I joked with my family that I probably looked as though I'd just returned from fat camp--I was wearing a baggy sweatshirt and extra-baggy sweatpants, and I wasn't eating anything. I did, however, show off the knowledge that I learned in Scotland by thanking the waiter with a "Cheers!" when he brought my water back.
Finally, I made it back to the house--home sweet home. I was super excited to see Koda. I'd seen my family and talked with them while I was abroad, so although I missed them quite a lot, I didn't feel as though I'd been completely separate from them while in Scotland. Koda on the other hand, doesn't quite grasp the concept of skype, so this was my first time seeing him in four months. Excited, I went into the house--only to be greeted with a head nod, and a bit of a glare that pretty clearly said "I can't believe you left me for so long." Regardless of the greeting I received from my dog, I was glad to be home. And I was thrilled to see my bed, which has never seemed as inviting as it did after about 36 hours of nonstop travel.
I was home, if only for a while. Which is why the story will continue, this time, in France!
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