Fond Memories with the Pontenagel Family

In the very beginning, as I left Logan Airport, I was trying desperately to calm my nerves and focus on the many positive aspects of the future, in spite of all that was worrying me. My parents and I said our good-byes once I had checked my luggage and gotten my boarding pass, and they waved to me as I went through security. Once I was on the other side, I slid my sandals back on and took a deep breathe.
The flight was fine, at first, and then my nerves met my stomach and it was a very messy connection process, ending with me passing out on the second flight before the plane even began its take-off. When I awoke, we were minutes within landing, and I finally felt as though everything would be alright. After an easy baggage claim, I turned to see Nina and her parents waiting for me just outside the terminal.
From then on, everything has been consistently wonderful. Barbara, the mother, has proven herself to be one of the most compassionate and understanding people I have ever had the privilege of encountering, and the rest of the family has welcomed me with a whole heart. I enjoyed the nights I spent with Nina and her friends in various clubs downtown, but even more so have I enjoyed reconnecting with her on our own little nights spent at home.
The language barrier has caused me only a small amount of grief on a select few occasions, however, I have a lovely "translator" with me, which makes everything a whole lot easier. Aside from that, and missing my lovely American bagels, this whole trip has been one grand adventure.
I have been downtown to sight-see and enjoy the nightlife, as well as venturing into the magnificent little castle, maintained to perfection, that resides in this fabulous city. I shopped for both modern clothes and little Dutch shoes in Holland, and visited a couple of quaint old villages that were absolutely awe-inspiring.
To provide you with a small glimpse into this incredible place, here is a description of the old knight's village I visited in Bourtange, Holland, as told in an email I sent to Trisha:
"...a mote with a wooden bridge, original windmill, cobblestone streets and paths, gardens everywhere, adorable old houses that are now museums, restaurants, and the like... and they were setting up for a Medieval-style market. Visions of Dutch milkmaids and knights tending to their horses while a maiden is buying eggs off a cart in an old man's garden flooded my mind. THIS is one of the places where fantasies relish, because REAL knights in shining armour actually did once roam the same streets that I walked over with my camera ready-in-hand. This is where servants had affairs with their lords, horses ran wild, and children churned butter in blue aprons."
In addition to these elusive sites, I also visited some of the glorious modern cities. In Cloppenburg, I visited the house of Barbara's mother, "Oma," where we sat at a perfect blue and white table by the rosebushes, sipping tea and enjoying sweet confections and each other's company. In Bremen, I learned a few of the histories and legends amidst the stunning architecture. In Oldenburg, Nina's hometown, I have taken up riding a bicycle once more, and ridden to some nearby lakes past the vast cornfields. Earlier today, we paid a visit to the North Sea and got our feet all muddy. We washed them off and continued through the beach stands and cafes until we got a table overlooking the shoreline, where we ate small cakes with coffee.
The food and the drinks here are definitely something to remember. From the Belgian cheese and Nutella, (not together, though,) to the traditional dishes, such as kassler mit sauerkraut, schnitzel, and, my personal favorite, schpätzle, it is all quite delectable. Schpätzle sounds like a rather fancy word, and the way that Johannas, Nina's dad, made the pasta also looked fancy... but when I saw it on my plate, it looked like an exceptionally messy version of macaroni and cheese. The sight of it, however, is no way to judge this über taste homemade pasta dish.
Now that I have spent half of a paragraph talking about noodles, it is time for me to end my tale of Dutch and German adventures. In the morning, I have to say good-bye to the Pontenagels and the world they have so warmly introduced me to, and return to America for however long it takes for me to obtain my visa for Paris, where I hope to be on my way to at this time next week.
Until then, I must take a break from Europe and all its splendour...