HEIDELBERG

Heidelberg would the Anne version of “My Favorite Things”: Hiking trails and chocolate and bookstores and coffee and pretty buildings and wildflowers and sunsets over the river. I’m glad it ended up being such a cozy, comfortable town, because the journey was a little bumpy (but not compared to transportation adventures still to come!).

I made it through my first two train trips smoothly. Train #3 was delayed…by 10 minutes. No big deal. Then by 30 minutes, then an hour, then two. Five hours later, the train pulled in, the sea of travelers camped out on the station’s floor cheered, and we were off to Germany.

I’m used to Sevilla’s summer schedule, where families are out eating dinner, kids are playing at the park, and friends are meeting up around midnight. In Heidelberg, everyone was clearly in bed, including the bus, taxi, and Uber drivers. My only fellow humans were stumbling out of a bar across the road from the station. After a few tries, I found an Uber still out and about. I think he got lost a few times because his location was always “3 minutes away,” but I waited a good half hour. I would soon find out that Heidelberg was probably the safest city I’ve ever been in, but at that moment I felt extremely dumb for traveling alone. The feeling passed as soon as the Uber came. The driver was quite friendly, so I asked about food recs. He didn’t like German food but loved Five Guys and an Indian restaurant that “has some bad reviews on Yelp, but it’s actually so good!”

“Well, here we are!” he said brightly. I grabbed my backpack, and he took off. I instantly regretted not asking him to make sure I was indeed at the hostel because I wasn’t. And though I was on the opposite side of the city from the train station, there was still no one around.

After walking up and down the street, my tired brain was out of options. So, I called my mom who I knew was already plenty worried and said, “Hi, Mom. It’s after midnight and I’m pretty sure no one lives in this town except for one Uber guy, and I don’t trust his judgment anyway because he got lost and likes bad food and I don’t know where I am because he dropped me off on some random street and I can’t find the hostel.”

I don’t remember the rest of the conversation except for that she said “OK, I’m PRAYING some people show up or you find the hostel or something.” And about five seconds later, two people came walking toward me. The only people I’d seen all night other than Uber Guy and Intoxicated Bar Guys. They didn’t know where my hostel was, but they thought there was one around the corner on the next street. And sure enough, there it was. Everyone in the hostel was also asleep, but I had a cute little welcome note with my name on it in the late check-in basket.

I think God answers more prayers than we realize. We take notice when we’re really wanting him to come through. As I was falling asleep that night, I imagined him up there watching me running around freaking out,saying, Chill out, sis, I created this place and you’re gonna love it. And hey, I’ve given a couple of nice Germans the sudden urge to go on a midnight walk. Patience. They don’t speed walk. And by the way, you really should’ve brought more than one pair of pants, but that’s a minor issue. You’ll just wear the same ’fit for the next 3 days.

And I did indeed love it. The next morning got off to a lovely start when I happened upon Earth Bowls—a very, well, earthy breakfast café with plants hanging from the ceiling, funky mismatched tables, and the most delicious coffee smell. The interior was tiny, and the two tables were full. I asked the server if there was a list, but I doubted it. “We don’t really do the list thing here…people come and go,” he said vaguely. So I went and came back and sure enough there was a table. I’d missed dinner the day before, and the food was delicious (maybe the bad Indian food would have been, too, at that point) and the coffee definitely lived up to my expectations.

From there, I walked up to the castle, through some hilly neighborhoods, and then a little way along a trail. I’d heard there was a waterfall not far away, which I almost missed because it was quite small. I headed back down to the old town and meandered through the streets. The town almost felt like it existed in its own dimension of happiness. I saw that though I’d been alone, I had actually been quite safe the night before.

I peeked into cozy bookstores, walked through the Heidelberg university campus, and eventually happened upon the cutest chocolate shop. Someone had recommended the Heidelberg chocolate, and I don’t need a lot of convincing when it comes to chocolate. I bought a few chocolates for myself and quite a few as gifts.

Earlier that morning, I’d met four hostel friends from Italy. They were quite excited to tell me about their fifth friend, who broke his radius while arm wrestling and had returned home on day two of their trip. They also recommended a short hike that offered the best view of the old town, bridge, and river. It sprinkled a bit on my hike, but it was a nice change from the 110-degree Sevilla heat. On my way up, I saw some soggy sheep who seemed to be enjoying the rain as much as I was. The view from the top was all the hostel friends had promised, so I sat down to enjoy it. I was going to save the Anne chocolates for later…but it just felt the perfect chocolate eating spot. (Some of the friend chocolates met a similar fate later in the trip.)

I returned to the old town for dinner. I forwent the Indian food for a more reliable looking restaurant. It appeared to be full, but the waiter directed me to a large table where a family was already seated. Apparently, this is quite normal because the family started chatting with me. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed eating with other people. Of course, I’d shared meals with Paula and Larry in France, but I’d also done a number of solo meals and grocery store meals. The family was finishing up, but we had a nice conversation where I learned they had taken a 3-month cycling trip through the US. When they left, I met a jazz pianist from the UK and a freelance artist from France. You talk to these people, knowing you’re probably never going to see them again, but you enjoy each other’s stories anyway.

After dinner, I took a walk along the river to watch the faint, semi-cloudy sunset. I would have to head out again the next morning, and I wished I could stay at least another week. It was the perfect day of calm in the midst of running around major cities. And the next day, complete with a splitting train and a mystery bus through the middle of nowhere in the Czech Republic, would not be quite as relaxing. But peacefully unaware of the adventures ahead, I crossed back over the stone bridge as the last streaks of dusty pink and hazy purple disappeared behind the hills, and thought, I’m definitely coming back here.