Traveling Circus: Trier

This weekend we did Trier, the oldest city in Germany. We didn't know where we were going until a couple hours before we left, so this one was a little less organized than most.

I really wanted to go on a river cruise, so I lugged everyone to the port despite the typical German weather. It looked like we might have the boat to ourselves until, a couple minutes before our scheduled departure, a group of about sixty German tourists walked down the ramp.

As we were waiting to board, Carson was antsy and had a little flip-out. Fortunately we had anticipated this and had used the double criss-cross method to keep the little Houdini in his stroller. Then we noticed the stares. Everyone from this group seemed to be staring at Carson throwing his tantrum. At first I thought 'what? Haven't you heard of the terrible-twos?' Then I realized they all had strollers too...and all the children had special needs. They were trying to figure out what affliction Carson suffered from. So we took Carson on the special needs cruise, and he was the recipient of lots of special attention from the other passengers. Sometimes I am so thankful for the language barrier... I couldn't make this stuff up.

Enjoying a Weizen on the River Cruise

Our hotel was a find in the middle of town, perfectly situated to enjoy the sights. Much too nice for our little crew, but we indulged in the restaurant, bar, and spa anyway. My only complaint - breakfast. What is with German breakfast? It is as if a list of no less than 43 things exists which must be included in a German breakfast - canned cherries, sliced ham, Nutella - and yet none of them are appetizing! I wish I was kidding. So on Sunday we decided to skip the hotel breakfast and find something on our own. Bad call. Turns out absolutely nothing is open on Sunday's...and then, just as we were about to give up, we saw the Pannackefuessen (Pancake House, I think). It was like a beacon of breakfast hope. We ordered our pancakes and waited anxiously...but they did not taste like any pancakes I have ever had. They were a cross between bread and cake, with no syrup, and when we asked for syrup we were given jam. Then we spied the 'American Pancakes' on the menu. We swallowed our pride and ordered. It was no Cracker Barrel, but thank God for simple pleasures.