Meet the parents/Murphy

(one of the small castles)

Despite signs of fatigue, a lack of sleep and coffee, and an hour and a half of French I made it to the appointed place at the appointed time, locked my bike, stowed my baggage, and wedged myself into the sardine-can that would be my home for the next six hours. The car was a Renault convertable, new, shiny, and small, with all the modern comforts available in a 3 x 6 space. I sat in the back with another friend, preparing myself to have a deep and very personal relationship with my knees. We passed the time reading newspapers and books, talkig, listening to the radio, and eating cookies. Except for the declining usefulness of my legs the drive was quite enjoyable, and as my fellow backseat companion departed in Siegen (one of the ugliest cities I have had the misfortune to visit), even this became much more pleasant.

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Destination: Mümster, a city in Northern Rhine-Westfalia, known as the site of the Anabaptist rebellion (the cages are still hanging on the church!) and of the signing of the Treaty of Westphalia in 1648 (Kegley and Raymond, do your best!). There is a beautiful cathedral, but because the citizens didn't like the bishop they built their shops (now the Prinzipialmarkt) facing away from the cathedral. Münster is also the site of one of Germany's largest universities, and is renowned for its bicycle-usage.

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We picked Saturday as our bike trip day, having taken the bus on friday but trusting the predictions and the sunshine. We toured two of the hundreds of small castles and forts in the region, each built with moats as defense in this hill-less landscape. Saturday was the opening of the exhitibion Skulptur projekte Münster 2007, happening every ten years, featuring large installations throughout the city. We were inteding to tour them by bike, but just as we arrived at the first one it began to rain and then to pour. We huddled in a parking garage, wet in our rain capes, and waited for it to abate before going on our way. Except it started again, and harder, and this time we were caught huddled under the trees where our rain capes promptly capitulated under the unrelenting torrential rainfall. Rivers washed around our ankles as we stood, helpless and miserable, waiting for it to let up enough for us to make it to the library, where we hung up our things, huddled barefoot in the garderobe with our cappuccinos and hot chocolates, as we decide whether or not to call in a rescue team. We eventually decide for the latter option (for reasons of comfort and convenience, and due to the uncertainty of the weather and the fact that we were scheduled to make dinner). And of course, it doesn't rain for the rest of the day.


(the first installation in the rain. I am the yellow-clad midget.)


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"He who can hear butterflies laugh knows the taste of clouds," boyfriend whispers in my ear, leaning over and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. I give him a look, the thought crossing my mind that someone could have spiked his spaghetti with capers. "I always wanted to say something like that," he continues, pointing to the sign on the wall from which he had read the phrase. I raise my camera to take a picture; the guys at the table between us and said sign think I am taking a picture of them. I don't disabuse them of the notion. We had discovered the nifty restaurant, an Italian place, after a walking tour of town, or of parts of it. The place had an interesting business model, somewhat like Noodles & Co or Tokyo Joe's (for my American audience!). You receive a card upon entry, which you present at the counter where you order, depending on if you want appetizers, pizza, pasta, or dessert. As for the pasta, it is then cooked right in front of you, with ingredients you choose, and the price is charged on your card. Pizza lovers are given a buzzer to alert them when their pizza is finished. You find your own table to sit at, collect your drinks at the bar, and bus service keeps the place looking spiffy. Complemented by modern architechture, large picture windows and contemporary furnishings, the place was quite good and not particularly expensive.

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My friend H. who had moved to Cologne some monts previously was able to come down to the track meet on Sunday, where Boyfriend was running (he came in 8th in the Collegiate Championships) and I was accompanying. I wish she hadn't moved away.

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Münster has really cool botanical gardens. They are part of the university, free, open to the public, and have all sorts of different rain forest, desert, and other exhibits as well as a large english-style garden with paths, a small lake, and interesting plants to accompany the small palace now being used for University administration.



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There is a bar in Münster, in the Arkaden, which serves tomato juice with tobasco sauce for me and two glasses of fresh whole milk for Boyfriend. Your typical partying college kids we are not.

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I had forgotten how nice it is to have a garden, where things grow and you can pick your breakfast yourself. I appreciated the extra space a house provides; not only the comforts of a large room, a large bed, and properly chosen furniture, but also just the sheer space one is afforded, with more than the default options of (1) bedroom or (2) kitchen.

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They taught me a card game, called Set!. Cards with one to three figures of one of three shapes, colors, and patterns, are laid in a grid on the floor. The point is to find a set of cards with all attributes consistant (same color, shape, pattern, but varying in number of figures) or with all attributes differing (each card a different color, with a different shape, number, and pattern,). It was fun, better than watching TV. And I won.