Europe: Lost… in Bavaria!

I wish that every place I traveled was called Bavaria— then my blog titles would be infinitely more dramatic. Instead of “How to Ride the Greyhound,” I could write, “How to Ride the Greyhound… in Bavaria!” Now, doesn’t that sound better? 

So, here is my story about getting lost.

We have no idea where we are!

Yesterday, Michaela was determined to show Zack and me the nearby Hirschwald Naturpark (you don’t have to speak German to figure out what that is), so her daughter Diana drove us there. After visiting a museum about mining (more on that in a different blog), it was time to hike. We leashed up the two labs, Pookie and Kara, and set off toward a plowed field in what we thought was the correct direction, following a little set of markers that looked like the Red Cross symbol. I walked Pookie, Zack walked Kara, and Michaela hiked beside us, telling us some of the history of the region, as well as pointing out interesting plants. At first we passed through scenery that looked exactly like the Katy Trail back in Missouri, but that was soon to change.

It was nearly forty minutes before we realized we had gone in the exact wrong direction than we had been planning. Michaela said it made no sense to backtrack, and we agreed, so we looked at the map, chose a path, and followed it to a crossroads. We diverged onto a trail that promised a city was close by— only 5 kilometers. Here the path got narrower: two tire tracks with stones to mark the way, grown up with blackberries and thistles and stinging nettle and spongey earth, surrounded by pine trees so tall and thin that I felt like I was in a skinnier version of North Carolina.

Looking at the maps did not help.

After walking for about an hour, Michaela observed that we had trekked far more than 5 kilometers. We had to agree, but there was nowhere to go: the path delved straight through the forest with no signs of letting up. It was only the first of an impossible tangle of trails that wound ever deeper into the woods.

The forests around here are open with little underbrush, but have thick canopies so they appear dark. We walked on a path that led steadily down, with trees reaching tall on either side, framing a V of chalky blue sky. The sun cut a golden swatch at the treetops, but beneath all was shadow, and I kept looking for trails of breadcrumbs under the moss and ferns.

We walked on and on. The dogs panted and trotted slower and slower beside us, and Michaela’s knees began hurting. After yet another confusing set of crossroads, I exclaimed, “Lost in Bavaria!” to which Michaela replied, “No, it is not funny.” (Later, she admitted that it was.)

Pictured: the most amazing thing I have ever eaten.

At last we saw a sign for another town, only 2,5 kilometers away. In rejoicing we continued, only to walk at least another 3 before we realized that we had somehow missed the turn. So on we trekked, pebbles crunching beneath our feet to break the eerie silence of the forest. We had a lot of water and some energy bars in the backpack— would we have to last the night?

As it turned out, we stumbled onto a main thoroughfare within the hour, this time with a sign that could not be mistaken, about Ensdorf being only 2 km away. With renewed energy we traipsed down the path, ending up in Ensdorf. Diana and her friend Christian joined us, and Michaela treated us all to drinks (I had hot chocolate) and gelato. In case you were wondering, gelato is Italian for “euphoria on a cone.” The dark chocolate flavor I had was so good that I thought I was going to die of happiness.

Then we went home and ate pasta and another round of ice cream. It had been another beautiful day… in Bavaria!

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