Yesterday started off magically. I left Marburg, which was bittersweet because I don't think you could see all of Marburg's beauty in a lifetime but I was ready to be moving on towards Kassel. Just 5 miles or so from Marburg was the small farming town of Cölbe. The bike path ran along Cölbe's main street and the bakery and the butcher were next doo to one another. It was nine in the morning and the residents were doing their shopping. Joining them I got a couple of different breads and coffee from the bakery and then ten slices of two types of salami from the butcher. Outside of Cölbe it was clear that the trail went somewhere but >I couldn't say just where. A man pulled up on his bike and (all in German) I asked him if he knew where the trail continued. We talked about maps and directions until my German was exhausted. He told that a few years ago he had also done a huge German bicycling trip from the East Sea to the Bodensee- North to South. Not ten minutes after I left him I came upon a people setting up a "Frisch Kirschen" - fresh cherries stand by the side of the road. I stopped and bought a kilo. With my foo for the day just about set I was off towards Kassel. I knew that I probably wouldn#t make it to Kassel because it was too far so i set my sights on Fritzlar. Fritlar is a little town that sits on a hill and has one of the best remaining old city walls with gaurd towers in Germany. Instead of hustling off to Fritzlar though I proceeded to get lost repeatedly for about two hours. This time I unabashedly blame the signs. In fact the only way to get moving was to scrap old Radweg #2 and take raods. I was probably four hours and twenty-five miles into the day and still a considerable distance from Fritzlar. I have been managing to make these days longer and longer. I remember when Kenny and I first rode around Mercer Island and home with no weight (30 miles) I thought I'd die. Well, yesterday it was 70 miles as I pulled into Fritzlar and the last two were climbing up the hill on which the city sits. I felt simultaneously bad as hell and like I wanted to fall down. Hessen though, the "state" that I'm traveling through, is a little piece of Heaven. These little towns and framing communities are spectacularly beautiful. I see here the stereotype of cleanliness and organization that the Germans are known for. Frankfurt might as well have been Chicago but here in the countryside is the Germany that one hears about. What is so interesting to me is that the organization and cleanliness is contrasted to the lack of organization in the town layout. I mostly mean the curving streets which totally unlike the "planned" towns such as Mannheim that look very much like a chessboard. As I rode through these small towns, one every ten or twelve miles, I saw many aspects that were the same from town to town but each retained an distinctive town character. About a half dozen times people were sweeping their streets or sidewalks or driveways and there seemed to be nothing to sweep. Maybe you have to be German to see it. Anyway, those little farm towns and the winding countryside between them with creeks, birds, and faraway castles was unbelievable- truly idyllic. At Fritzlar things were not so wonderful. It was largely my state of mind but where I hadn't really had trouble communicating in German, the people at my hotel were determined to shake my German speaking. It's funny though, I can remember the exact lessons sometimes from German class where we learn directions. Yuo know, go straight ahead, turn left...A man took an interest in my bike and remarked on the obvious state of my tour: that I needed a place to stay. He directed me and (yes all in German) I found this place where the people were not so happy with my stumbling German, likely with my state of exhaustion either, nor found my incompetence remotely charming. It was a nice place, good room with a view of the town center, and breakfast for pretty cheap, but it was also the only time yet when I couldn't communicate with them or understand them at all. But I think that they were just irritated because everyone else has of course immediately recognized that I'm doing my best and has come to my rescue. And there's nothing better to restore one's confidence than standing at a crossroads, trying to find my way, and when two other bicyclists pull up having a lengthy discussion about what had by now become the commonplace occurrance of poor and confusing signs. Then, here at Kassel, before going into the hotel I practiced what I would say and what questions I would ask so as to avoid bad communication. Then after I got through the entire experience understanding how to use the phone, when and where breakfast was to be, and other formalities, the woman at the desk says in near perfect English, "You're German is very good." I laughed pretty good. Her little boy gave me my change and my key and speaks German, Spanish, and English. They spent some time in L.A. last year. HA. Well the World Cup is on- Iran v. Mexico and I've found some great places to watch where the people are very animated. The places are usually ice cream and beer joints. Man the Germans love their ice cream. There are birds everywhere, ice cream spots, bakeries, beer gardens, bicylists, trains, German flags, and farm land. I love thinking about how different the other parts of Germany will be. What will be similar, what different? Will ice cream be so common in Niedersachsen or is it something about this hilly farm country?Will there be so many half-timbered houses? I think Hessen may be blessed. But maybe that's because it reminds me a little bit of home.