Better With Age
This week has been one of progress. With persistence, we have chipped away at the edges of the wall that stands between us and the true adventure. At last, we can peek through the cracks and see a path forward.
It has been a strange seven days. There are long periods spent in routine activity; simply passing time. Mornings spent working on my novel and pottering about the house; walks along the riverfront - in spite of the deepening chill of winter - to move our bodies and get away from the confines of the apartment (where the requests of a young boy to play are endless and ever-present); evenings spent playing video games or watching Christmas movies as snow falls with greater frequency in the valley. Yet interspersed with the mundane have been several things worth detailing here, so let’s get into it.
The week began tinged with a strained despondence. We had failed to make progress toward our goals, despite concerted effort on our parts, and a consistent focus on tasks and chores and logistics left little room for quality time. We had another appointment to register our van on Wednesday, but we were holding out little hope of success. There had been too many rejections by that point. We were right to have been skeptical. Alessandra had called ahead of time to confirm that we had everything we needed, only to be told upon arrival - and by the same woman she had talked with on the phone, no less - that we could not register the van at their office. Instead, we were redirected to the original office, just around the corner from the apartment. We walked out, feeling empty. Alessandra made an appointment at the local office, just in case, and we locked in for later that day. Unbelievably, it worked! Alessandra went in, explained the situation, provided our paperwork, and the clerk helpfully problem-solved and processed the application. Registering the van had been the biggest weight upon our shoulders, and having it lifted made us dare to hope once more.
The next day was November 30th: the day before my birthday. A normal morning convinced me it was just another day, but when we took a few items into Siegfried - surprise! Alessandra informed me that we were going on a birthday getaway, starting five minutes ago. We rushed back to the apartment to bundle up our backpacks with the warmest clothing we had and off we went.
The road to Monschau
It was a two hour drive, all up, and the fields and forests began to show signs of frost, which gave way to thin patches and crusts of ice on the grassy fields and, finally, full, thick inches of puffy, white snow covered tree and grass and field alike. We drove through the little village of Monschau, and pulled up into the carpark of a lovely little bed and breakfast. Our room was cosy and modern, with two square windows looking out into the winter wonderland that surrounded us on every side. We relaxed for a time before heading out to dinner at an old pub in the centre of the village, sandwiched between a set of timber-frame buildings that jutted precariously out over the rushing river that roared, swollen with melted snow, just below. The atmosphere was warm and welcoming, and we ate huge plates of schnitzel as our enthusiastic server bantered merrily with the regulars nearby.
The old pub and the river
Then, it was my birthday. I woke up at the dawn of my thirty second year on this Earth feeling no different. Alessandra set up her phone, and we spent our morning having video calls with family, spread out across the continents. Alessandra got me to turn away as she set up a pile of gifts, and watched as I unwrapped the rubber-duck-themed wrapping paper to reveal a mug, a puzzle box, a pair of van-themed Christmas socks, a box of chocolates, a beautiful card and a bottle of mulled wine. It was perfect.
At 11:30am, Alessandra had another surprise for me. We dressed warmly and drove to the outskirts of the village, which gave way to frozen pastureland that stretched into the distance. We parked at a low building, with hay bales stacked high in one corner. A farm, perhaps? Not quite. After a little waiting, I heard the hollow clopping of hooves, and an open carriage, drawn by an enormous grey-black draft horse, came rolling down the driveway. A ruddy-faced old man tossed us each a thick blanket as we climbed in the back, and we set off on a carriage ride through the snowy expanse of fields that bordered the village. The scenery was beautiful, though our noses and ears froze as we went, faces changing expression only reluctantly as blood moved sluggishly through cold muscles. By the time we returned, our fingers and toes were like ice and stone, so we drove into town and warmed up with hot drinks and apple strudel in one of the cafes that lined the narrow streets.
Fighting the chill
As it got dark, we returned to the bed and breakfast. After a hot shower, we walked up to the restaurant for dinner (I had a venison burger and loved it) and, stuffed to the brim, one final surprise: the waiter brought out a platter of cakes and fruit, with a pair of candles that Alessandra had slipped him earlier, proclaiming me 32 years old. Somehow, we managed to eat the cakes - though I still can’t figure out how. With overfull bellies, we retired for the evening, and my last thoughts before sleep were of how fortunate I am to have a girl like Alessandra in my life.
Dessert stomachs were needed for this.
The following day, we had the buffet breakfast in the dining room and began the long drive home. Mateo was overjoyed to see us, and we filled everyone in on my birthday adventures before retreating for some quiet time in our room.
Sunday was for relaxing and recovery. Alessandra had been courageously battling an emerging sickness throughout our little getaway, but it had finally begun to catch up with her, and so I spent the morning tending to her needs. By the late afternoon, restlessness was gnawing at all of us, so Mateo, Leonie, Alessandra and I took a short trip out of Koblenz to visit a deer enclosure. We fed bags of corn to the mass of animals as they pushed each other out of the way to snack on the golden grains; as plump, round birds competed for the scraps on the floor. We stayed out feeding the animals and playing with Mateo on the medieval-themed playground until it was impossible to keep our hands out in the open for the chill, then dismounted the wooden dragons and unicorns and headed for home.
Patiently waiting
The final day of the week was the moment of truth: the appointment to secure registration as a resident. To our surprise, it was simple - over in ten minutes. It snowed a white powdery snow as we left, and we felt as though perhaps, at last, we had paid our dues. In the evening, I walked down to buy some groceries, and made a piping hot onion and potato soup. We ate it with crusty bread and butter, and the warmth of the meal sent us right off to sleep.
There is little more to say for this week. I am a little older than I was - though perhaps no wiser - as I consider what we have learned:
Persistence really is key. A little luck helps, too;
Wear warm socks and gloves when you’re out in the snow. Seems obvious, doesn’t it? And
Be with someone who is excited to celebrate you, and look for chances to give back to that person.
