Passau from the cobblestone view

Passau, Germany

Monday October 29, 2018

After a full breakfast everyone went off in their separate ways. I stayed behind for a while so I could travel by myself and not hold anyone up. On the last cruise I even held up their “slow walking” group and I don’t want to do that again, At Regensburg Frank, Jeff and I discovered my non-stop cobblestone range. Those suckers are hard to walk on for regular people, much less trying to keep from poking one of my two alpine sticks into a hole or have it slide off the top of a stone. The Rathskeller where we ate lunch was .6 (six tenths) of a mile from where we parked the car and the last tenth was sheer guts. Level pavement I can do a mile or more at my pace as I proved at the Frankfurt airport.It was a bit concerting when the airport’s pet turtle kept urging me to pick up the pace. (not really)

The plan was for me to do my shopping and to meet the rest of the group at St. Phillip’s Cathedral for an organ concert at noon. There was a broad esplanade along the Danube so I tried that first and walked as far as the street that led up to the Cathedral. Gadzooks! It was a steep stairway with at least 12,543 steps (did I mention steep with no handrails?) (Have you picked up yet that 12,543 is the number I use to express something beyond infinity?)

Disheartened but not defeated I turned back toward the ship. There was supposed to be a street leading up to the old town shopping district so I started searching for it. Sure enough, there it was….cobblestones and all. But at least it was an incline. Although I was absolutely certain it had to be at least 70degrees until a guy rode up it on his bike without a sweat. So I gave her a go. Have you ever seen the pictures of the skiers cross-hatching up a mountain slope. I’m sure that must have been the way I looked, except put a bear in place of the slim trim athlete.

I made it! One street and one alley took me to the center of the “old town.” I was on a quest for two things--an apothakare (yes-German spelling) and a men’s store.

Tourist mecca! Especially if you’re a woman. There were 12,543 women’s stores selling everything your fertile imagination can dream up...but no men’s stores.

We’re old friends enough by now for me to share this however embarrassing it is to both of us. The radiation for the cancer has completely destroyed my bladder control so I live in Depends or whatever the local brand is called. (Sorry if that's TMI) I had only packed enough to get here since everyone had assured me they would be readily available. After trooping the entire length of the mall I finally found an apotakare (they are in the same ratio to women’s stores as men’s are.) They didn’t have what I needed but on the other end of the mall…...you get the picture.

So I changed my search to find the elusive men’s store. Finally at one sporting goods store that seemed unisex I found out there was a men’s store only four blocks away….one block turn left, two blocks turn right and one block to the street corner. I had thought I was going to be a victim to a “let’s put on over on the crazy American” but , no! There it actually was!

Going in I made my first discovery. The shop catered to the young gentlemen you see gracing the pages of Gentlemen’s Quarterly. You know. Tall, slim..no..skinny, and incredibly handsome. Yeah. That’s the store. They had one pair in the entire store with a waist size that barely fit me.

Confession's good for the soul….before I left San Antonio my thyroid had gone out of whack and I had gone into hypothyroidism….causes weight gain, fluid retention, etc. By the time I reached Passu I was already a 41+ (normal 40) and that was before any gourmet meals and desserts. By the third day (shopping day) I was 42. I had adjusted my meds but only managed to stabilize, not lose, so that was why i was out shopping. Out of 6 pairs of pants I brung only 4 would stretch enough for me to get in.

Enough of the sob story. This is where I learned---

Lesson three: Even if you’re desperate, ask before you buy. The pants were two inches too long (I did mention tall didn’t I) so they had to tailor them and I could pick them up in an hour. I pulled out my Visa and paid up.

The young lady who took my money assured me the Cathedral was on the same level and only a five minute walk….After a short pause as she assessed me she added, “Maybe 15 for you.” (Drums…..bada boom!)

Long story even longer I made it to the Cathedral for an astounding concert. I’ll cover that in the next blog.

Oh? I didn’t finish Lesson three:??

No matter how desperate you are ask first. When I pick up my trousers I found I had paid 159 Euros for a pair of skinny corduroy trousers! AT 1:124 that’s $!97.16 for a %^@*((% pair of street pants!!! I’m going to have them framed when I get home!

PICTURES:

There really aren’t any more for this episode than are already on the last link.

Reflections: You just got ‘em in Lesson three.