Looking for Quaint in Germany

This is one story in a series of stories that tell about a backpack trip to Europe in the spring of 1976 by myself in an effort to run away from the pain of a broken heart. (To read from the beginning Google "The Ramblings of an Aging Baby Boomer" and go back to March 27th, "I'll Never Find Love Again.")

Friday morning, April 16, 1976 (waiting on train to Amsterdam)

Yesterday Mrs. Burton walked with me to the train station in Salzburg, gave me a sack of bread, cheese, soup and crackers, and then she tapped the lady standing in front of me in line on the shoulder and asked her to watch out for me. "She is precious cargo," she said. She hugged and kissed me goodbye and then stood back and waited for me to board the train. I can't believe all of the good luck I've had on this trip.

I decided to bypass Frankfort and Munich because I thought the cities would be too big, intimidating, and expensive. I chose a smaller quaint village town of Wurzburg. Maybe it was because I was feeling bad, but it didn't look like a village and it wasn't quaint. There must be an American military base close because there were hordes of unimpressive, loud-mouthed American boys running around trying to put the make on any female in sight. I'm sure Würzburg is a nice town once you weed out the unattractive Americanism that seems to have a hold on the area I'm in.

I stayed in a pension last night for $7.00. Not impressed and more money than I'm used to paying. I looked for a German restaurant (good ole wholesome German food) but I was too sick to look very far. I settled for a McDonalds. Ugh!

My watch has been failing me lately. It just stops and it usually happens in the middle of the night. Knowing that I can't rely on my watch, I kept waking up last night to check it, but as soon as I fell asleep, it stopped. I woke up to find my watch had stopped at 1:00. Thinking it was an overcast day and I was about to miss the train, I hurriedly put on my clothes and raced here to the train station. The clock here read 5:50; it's still dark outside, not overcast.  I was an hour and twenty minutes early for my train. I hate my watch.