I left Prague on the morning of March 11th. I’d booked my Uber ride the night before and so had a relaxed morning, finishing packing and having the hotel breakfast. A note to self… Hotel breakfast bars, good! It takes coffee and protein for my higher order functions to come online and having to go find a restaurant in the morning would be too much work for my poor brain to handle. 

The Uber driver got me to the station in good time, so I had an hour to find my train and platform. I may not have had enough coffee to deal with finding my platform. The departure board said that my train would leave from platform 4J, yet I could not find a 4J platform or any directions to it. The train journey was going to be over 6.5 hours; I knew that I would need something to eat on the train. While getting my food, I simply asked for directions. Following the directions was easy and though once again, I almost got on the wrong train. I found the right platform, my train and car with reserved seat. Once settled, I had a notion, proved by an Internet search, and felt extremely stupid. What do we do in the US if a place has multiple similar areas? We designate them by cardinal compass directions – north, south, east and west. There was PLENTY of signage in the station directing me to the platforms. “North” in Czech = “sever” or S; “south” in Czech = “jih” or J. Common solutions to common human problems, regardless of language. My train was leaving from the south platform 4 – 4J in Czech. Clear directions were staring me right in the face all the while!  Note to self: a little language research can go a long way.

I had a window seat from Prague to Munich; I could watch the countryside roll by. It’s mostly flat with some rolling hills sprinkled in; it reminded me of Wisconsin and Iowa. Spring has begun in Europe: Trees with white flowers blooming mixed with bushes with yellow flowers along roadways.The fields plowed, if not planted, sprouting with that new growth green color cover. I could tell when we hit Germany – things were just neater, less graffiti, better maintained. Well, those observations and the fact that I had to pull out my ticket and passport for German police/border officers at the first German station in a sizable town, Cham.

The rest of trip was quiet; I dozed a bit and found myself in Munich. I was grateful for the advice I’d read before the trip: Pack one bag that you can physically manage. There’s no one other than other train passengers to help you with your bags – no Red Caps or other porters. And though I have observed that people are often willing to help others with their bags, I would not presume to depend on that help. My very rusty German, supplemented by some signage in English, sufficed to direct me to the taxis for a ride to the hotel. Check in to the hotel in Munich was easy enough but their elevator was under repair and they had me in a 5th floor room. A member of the hotel staff brought up my suitcase as I made my slow way upstairs with my backpack. The hotel porter took pity on me and came down to take my backpack up the last floor as well. I did not go out dinner Monday night – wasn’t hungry enough to climb the stairs back to my room after dinner.