Germany, Day Three: "There's a mountain range here? I'm sorry, I thought this was a Selson Blue Commercial."

That morning, we said our goodbyes. Well, I did, because Robker was just going to be going back to the dorm when my part of the journey was over. Late the night before, I talked to one of Robker's male dormmates about German vs. American politics. Really, we just complained, and I have the sneaking suspicion he may have just been testing out his English on me (what, you didn't think I was speaking 'German' to him, right?). Whatever, though, it was a nice conversation. That morning, another of Robker's dormmates Kathrin(?) let me borrow some giant water bottle she had. I like water, so I said thank you and took it.
The three of us boarded a train heading south to a town on the alps called Fussen. Apparently, a long time ago, some crazy King built a bunch of castles down there because he was crazy. The above picture is of Stephanie passed out (and the reflection is Robker, no doubt dutifully going over our travel plans) on this train. We swung by Munich to drop off our stuff, got back on a train, and, after tunneling through six quadtrillion infinity tons of snow, we finally reached some touristy looking building surround by a stupid white fog. Apparently, a series a beautiful mountains reknowned in legend, history, and song, known as the 'Alps' were right in front of us, but I couldn't see them because of all the stupid snow. To this day I doubt that they exist.
There was a giant hill with a castle on it, though, so we rode in a carriage drug by diarrhetic horses to get a closer look.

That pointy thing is the castle, if you were wondering. Most people who look at this picture ask me where the castle is. That is because they are not 'with it'.
The snow just wouldn't stop falling. Robker got so pissed, he punched a hole in the castle.
I'm serious.

It did not stop snowing, but the castle did groan audibly.
We thought about taking the tour, but the castle is supposed to be really ugly on the inside, and the tour cost about fifteen euros, roughly sixteen-thousand dollars, so we decided not to take it. Robker and Stephanie rode down the 'mountain' on the diarrhetic horses. I was feeling even more awesome than usual, so I decided to foot it.
Oh, okay, I know you want a better picture of the castle, so here it is:

Wow. It's castleriffic.
I walked down the mountain and saw this beautiful waterfall, which, so far, has not impressed anyone.

I thought it was beautiful, much more so than the castle, but I am really neat, so just don't try to figure it out, okay. I met some Canadians when they heard me curse in English as I slipped and made a giant fool of myself, almost falling off the giant dandruff-ball...I mean, mountain.
I liked them. They had just come back from a trip to USA to see Mardi Gras in New Orleans. This started a trend I will get to later. They were really nice, though.
Finally, the Robkers' slow little carriage got down to the bottom, where we waited for a really long time for our ridiculously delayed bus to save us from an incoming blizzard. We thought we were going to be stuck up there with Ludwig van Nutjob's castles that I cannot pronounce or spell, but, thankfully, our bus finally came.
After another snowy ride, we finally arrived back in Munich.

I love Munich, and this picture does not do it justice. This road bends around, and giant buildings like this just go on for miles. It is crazy. I have too many good pictures from Munich and I can't post them all here.
We then went to a place much lauded by Robker, the Augustiner Beerhall. Unless he is talking about sauerkraut, Robker is usually right, especially in this case.
Man, what a great place.

See how happy we are! That place is great. I got a Liter of some thing called a "Radler" which is a really sweet beer. I would have bought another, but I only had 900 dollars left, or 0 Euros. It was not a matter of tolerance, as most members of my family, including myself, usually have the alcohol tolerance of the entire Spanish army. No offense to the Spanish army, but the truth is the truth. Robker's tolerance is equally as high, but there were no Indiana Jones' style drinkoffs because that's just not cool, right?
After a little more Muniching, we went to bed, because humans require sleep after strenously extended activity.
Before sleeping, I macked on some Corinthians, which was quite remarkable for me because I had been notoriously not digging on the Apostle Paul up to that point in my life, but as 2005 was a year for change (often painful change), I really came to love the guy.
Oh. And the bathroom at the hotel was haunted:

By a bad shower-head. Seriously, it was unresponsive and splattered all over, but this was nothing compared to the hotel shower horrors to come!!!
Stay tuned.