We had elected to grab second-class tickets back, which provided the four of us with a booth which we and our luggage just fit into. Of course, as is usual the train was overbooked, so we had people sitting on our armrests for the duration of the journey, and had other passengers constantly walking up and down the aisle, smacking their luggage into my head as I tried to get some shuteye during our eight hour journey.

Back in Aswan again after our brief sojourn, we resumed our normal routine of making phone calls, consulate visits, pizza eating, researching alternate plans, and felucca rides along the Nile. By this point we had been in Egypt for about three weeks, and had built a comfortable life amongst the inhabitants of the city. We had our favorite juice bars that we’d visit (love the fresh green grape juice), the shisha spots that we’d hit up after dinner, and an odd cast of people that we met with regularly on our quest to obtain the almighty Sudanese visas that we so desperately needed.

One of those characters was Timur. Timur was the guy who had met us on our first day in Aswan and taken us for our first round of rejections at the Sudanese consulate. We had developed a good relationship with him, and met on a frequent basis to chat visas or just grab some strawberry juice together. As an independent tour guide, Timur did a great job helping us arrange our day-to-day tasks around the city, book our Nile cruise, and setup our overnight felucca cruise that we had been wanting to book for a while, amongst other things. He served as a kind of middleman in many of the negotiations throughout our visa acquisition ordeal, and was an invaluable friend throughout our time in Aswan.

Another person that we had frequent contact with was Bashir, the Sudanese lawyer turned pizza maker. Originally a contact that Scott BKK had met on the street when foraging for his dinner, Bashir had been living in Aswan for a number of years and operated an Egyptian-style pizza cart with his brothers just outside of the souk. Trained in law in his homeland, he had left Sudan many years prior to explore better career opportunities, which ended with him working as a baker by day and a pizza cart operator by night. We were originally attracted to him not just by the deliciousness of his pizzas, but also by his affable nature, outgoing personality, and ability to speak English. It wasn’t until later that through him we’d meet some others that would be able to assist us in our quest to obtain the visas (more on that in an upcoming post). Bashir was another great friend, inviting us to his home for dinner to meet his family one night, and taking us out to a cousin’s wedding another night.

We would also have frequent contact with Gasser, whom we were renting our house from. Gasser lived with his very pregnant wife a five minute walk from where we were staying, and they would occasionally stop by and see how we were getting along (sometimes bearing gifts of cookies). One night they invited us to their home to have dinner, and we looked through their wedding album (not to mention watch an incredible video of the event). This was followed by an invitation to his cousin’s house at a later date, also for dinner. We sure weren’t minding all of the amazing dinners we were presented with, I can tell you that! Egyptian hospitality was definitely nothing short of impressive.

Sometime after our Nile cruise we received word from the 2 Do Africa crew (remember them?) that they would be rolling through Aswan in a few days, and we invited them to stay with us until they could find a spot of their own. Well, we enjoyed their company so much that we forgot to kick them out after that first night, and we ended up more or less becoming a group of seven for the duration of the rest of our time there.

This is Mallory, by the way, the newcomer to the trip, who joined the Shoebaru team in Cairo!

Cairo was an intense maze of cement buildings, noise, and people. Very crowded and endless car horns. Thankfully Em can decipher the squiggly lines of Arabic, and our Google Maps seems to read the streets of Cairo (somewhat) accurately. Camels, donkeys, and sheep roam the streets and burning trash? Well, I’ve gotten used to it.

The morning after my arrival, we visited the Great Pyramids. They are incredible…just as you would imagine them to be. So incredibly large and magnificent. It’s very humbling to stand at the base of stones that were laid 5,000 years ago. Wonder of the world. Check!

Shoebaru at the Great Pyramids!

After Cairo, we headed south and drove along the Nile. There are a ridiculous amount of rickshaws and speed bumps. Literally, one speed bump per quarter mile (we measured). Good for safety. Bad for the distance we have to cover. Our walkie-talkies to communicate between the cars are about 10% directions and 90% speed bump humor.

The Nile provides amazing irrigation, so either side of the river is lush and green. There are many palm trees with hanging dates (instead of coconuts). A few miles out east or west turns into sandy desert, so we just follow the green path south.

We arrive to the city of Aswan, in southern Egypt, on the border of Sudan. The only way to enter Sudan is via ferry that runs once a week. Here’s the problem. We can’t enter Sudan without visas, and Sudan stopped issuing them to Americans a few weeks ago. Shucks.

But we don’t give up that easily. Through various contacts, we have been in touch with a man at the Embassy in Sudan’s capital city of Khartoum. We also have an amazingly helpful contact named Timur who has been trying to work his magic here in Aswan. Opening a border is not easy.

Joe and Em at Abu Simbel

We are hopeful to obtain the visas…and while we wait, we’ll be spending a few weeks in Egypt. If you are going to be stuck somewhere, better to be where there are hundreds of temples, tombs, and interesting things to see. Plus, we usually have them all to ourselves! Tourism is down in Egypt 90% since the revolution last year. Everyone is shocked to see Americans. “You American? Wow! All America afraid of Egypt.” The economy is really hurting here…which pulls at our heart strings every time we start the bargaining process.

Our villa on Elephantine Island

For our extended Egyptian stay, we rented a little villa on Elephantine Island in the Nile. It’s brand new with A/C, a beautiful balcony overlooking the river, and a washing machine! Spanish decor interior with a white exterior and run by our new friend Gasser and his wife Ayet. They were married 8 months ago and are expecting their first child soon. Gasser and Ayet invited us to their home multiple times: to watch their wedding video, enjoy fresh Strawberry juice (Joe’s favorite) and have a rooftop dinner.

Elephantine Island is home to Nubians, an ethnic group from Southern Egypt/Northern Sudan. Everyone knows everyone in the village, and most of them are cousins…a continuous joke to us. The Nubians have been very welcoming to the five random Americans living on their island. Elephantine also became the first delivery location for World Clothes Line, my “buy 1, give 1″ clothing company that has partnered with Shoebaru. We gave new t-shirts to the children on the island.

We’ve created a little Egyptian life here. We’ve got our favorite bakery where we buy boxes of sugar cookies and our go-to coffee shop where the owner knows our drink of choice (grape juice!). We swim off our friend Mustafa’s boat and take day trips to local beaches. We know the ferry boat drivers, street pizza makers, and internet cafe owners. Yep, we are quite popular.

Scott and Mal at Karnak Temple

We’ve had a wonderful opportunity to experience Ramadan and the great celebration of Eid, marking the end of the holiday. Since the Sudanese consulate was closed for a long holiday weekend, Joe, Emily, Scott, and I took a trip up the Nile. So much for roughing it on a backpacking/camping trip…we’re taking 5 star cruises! We rode north up the Nile to the famous town of Luxor (capital of Ancient Egypt) and visited many incredible temples along the way: Abu Simbel, Edfu, Kom Ombo, Karnak, Luxor, Valley of the Kings, Hatshepsut, and the Colossus of Memnon. Our Aswan contact and now good friend, Timur, accompanied us as our tour guide. We saw all of Egypt’s finest – huge ruins, columns, hieroglyphics, and status of ancient gods. We marveled at the greatness of Ancient Egypt and stuffed ourselves silly on the cruise buffet!

Hot Air Balloon-ing

If we weren’t having enough fun, we decided to treat ourselves to everyone’s first hot air balloon ride! It was BREATHTAKING. We could see the Nile, lush green agriculture and people working in the fields, the urban city of Luxor with its many temples, and the surrounding mountainous desert. It was sunrise, and the purple hue of the early morning was gorgeous.

Thanks to Timur, Gasser, Ayet, Mustafa, and all the helpful people of Aswan and Elephantine.

Love from the land of camels!

Egypt is a big fan of bureaucracy. As such, a carnet is required for the country and getting that stamped and the car inspected takes time and visits to roughly 20 different individuals. Along this comes Egyptian plates for each vehicle, Egyptian driver’s licenses for each driver, Egyptian insurance, etc, etc. In Virginia we were able to get the plates “RGT SHOE” and “LFT SHOE” for the cars. In Egypt though, we have the boring Egyptian plates. So, for the duration that we have those plates, we no longer will refer to the cars as “Right Shoe” or “Left Shoe” but as “Arba’a Sifar Thamanya Khamsa Thamanya” and “Arba’a Sifar Thamanya Khamsa Ithnan” or “Thamanya” and “Ithnan” for short.

As we mentioned in the Libya post, NOTHING in that country was open before about 930 or 10pm. Egypt, however, has more a tourist focused economy and with that there were no issues procuring food at any hour of the day. Granted, some shops were closed for Ramadan so families could be together, but during the day the cities didn’t look like they were hit with some sort of zombie apocalypse, like Libya. On our drive from the border to Cairo we noticed many people in the middle of the highway blocking traffic and waving their arms around trying to get us to pull over. Uncertain of what this wildly unsafe traffic hazard was, we continued on. Upon further observation, these people were trying to hand us dates, water, tea, and other items so that we could break our fast. This was a common theme seen across Egypt and was the third most common traffic hazard we would encounter behind pile of burning trash and slow donkey cart.

On this first night in Egypt, we ended up not breaking our fast with dates, but with Pizza Hut. I could not tell you the last time I ate anything from Pizza Hut prior to August 6, 2012. It definitely has been over a year or two, but upon seeing the combined KFC/Pizza Hut (these are popular in Egypt), we decided to treat ourselves to (what we thought would be) some of the last “western” food we would have for about 50 days or so.

Arriving late into Cairo didn’t give us much opportunity to explore and we settled into a campsite located in Giza. The next morning our mission was to make a feeble attempt to obtain visas for Sudan at the Sudanese embassy, or at the very least figure out what was required to do so…with the backup plan being to procure them as transit visas in Aswan. As expected, the embassy in Sudan flat our rejected us and told us to go back to DC and get the visa there.

We moved to a hostel that was more centrally located so that we could :

-have more fun
-figure out when Mallory would be joining the team
-get our plan for obtaining Sudanese visas

On the “have more fun” side of things we were able to visit the Egyptian Museum (which was right across the street from the hostel) and unlike prior visits there was virtually no one there. With tourism down this year and it being Ramadan the museum was a ghost town. Some may appreciate this fact : Aside from us, there were THREE people in the Tutankhamen treasures room. THREE. Also a surprise for us was the number of people in Tahrir Square – also about three. We realized that the revolution happened a year ago, but from everything we had read, we expected there to be more activity there. We were told though that with Ramadan, people sort of calm down…but that on August 24th there would probably be large demonstrations there as this is the one year anniversary of the uprising.

Mallory informed us that she would be flying into Cairo to join the team the night of August 9th. This meant that we could effectively leave Cairo on the 10th and start heading down to Aswan in the hoping of getting our visas and hopping on the Monday ferry to Halfa, Sudan.

Stay tuned for the 2nd (and far more interesting) post on Egypt!

Getting to this point is no easy task as we had to convince Tunisia to let us out of the country.  The border between the two nations is officially closed and the Tunisian authorities did not believe that we would be allowed entry to Libya, thus potentially stranding us in “no-man’s land,” but well within sight and earshot of them.  After talking with them on July 31, they agreed to let us spend the night at the border and would let us pass the next morning.  Though, the next morning took some more convincing and finally we were allowed to cross.

Upon arriving in Libya, we found that because the borders were “closed,” there were no customs officials or really anyone of any capacity to take care of our carnets, insurance, declarations, or even passport stamping.  Due to the fact that we are Americans, we have to have a guide, and lucky for us, our guide Shukri was waiting at the border and got a border guard to find the stamps and officially stamp us in.  The thing about Libya currently is that there is no real government and thus no real authorities, police, military, etc.  This means that not having the carnet stamped, not obtaining a license plate, or not having insurance isn’t really a huge deal.  Our hope was that when exiting the country, this would not be an issue (it wasn’t.)

We weren’t entirely sure what to expect driving across a country that had just had a revolution, but we knew the checkpoints would be numerous.  After driving less than a mile we hit our first checkpoint.  The guard seemed very confused as to why there were two American cars with four Americans coming out of Tunisia.  He checked our passports, thanked us for the United States’ support of the revolution, and offered us bottles of frozen water.  He was the first of many people we met in Libya that were genuinely excited to see Americans in the country.

The checkpoints are different than any other we had ever encountered.  They would vary wildly depending on what was locally available.  Some of them had stacked shipping containers parallel to the road on either side and in the middle and then placed shipping containers above to create a sort of gate.  Others would put lengths of rope used to tie up boats across the road as speed bumps, while others used oil drums to create a slalom through which one would have to slowly navigate.  The guards also varied dramatically from heavily armed groups to an individual or two with a pistol.  Most of the checkpoints had between 1-3 technicals with mounted anti-aircraft guns, 50 cal, or other large caliber automatic rifles.  As we got closer to major cities, there would usually be a tank as well.  The most interesting part of the whole checkpoint concept was that all of these individuals were “rebels.”  As there is no military, all of these people were volunteers, and with no government, none of them were paid.  They were all there of their own accord because they love their country and want to protect it.  Never once did we feel unsafe going through the checkpoints.  One of the guards near Benghazi upon finding out we did not have a Libyan SIM card, gave us one and proceeded to talk to us daily as we traveled across Libya.

One of the things that became visible as we spent more time in the country, and that was mentioned to us by everyone we talked to, was that almost all of the citizens were armed.  We joked that it was like Texas (but with a lot more brandishing).  Only once did we drive by an individual actively firing his weapon unnecessarily into the air.  Shukri was extremely critical of such behavior and most people we spoke to had given up their weapons and were working to encourage their compatriots to do the same.

For me personally, the highlight of our entire Libya experience was the InterNations get together that we attended in Tripoli.  Like all of the other InterNations members we had met, these were individuals with an interest in travel, living and working abroad, and bringing people from different cultures and backgrounds together.  The reason this stood out so much from everything else that we did was because we got the personal stories of the individuals, their families, and views on the revolution.  It was completely eye-opening and as a person who followed the events as they unfolded on CNN, I realized how much news agencies sterilize the news and gloss over the stories of the average person.  For all of us, I think this was the point where we truly realized how amazing the people of Libya were.  They weren’t focused on the past 42 years, the atrocities, the lost money, or what could have been.  They were looking to the future, looking to build a better, stronger Libya.  This was a view we found all over the country and though it took shape in different ways in each person, we saw everyone working towards a common goal of the rebirth of Libya.

After having been to Libya, it is hard to imagine that it will take more than a few years before Libya is a prime tourist destination.  We had the pleasure of visiting several Greek and Roman cities and they were breathtaking.  The amazing thing is many of these sites are only about 20% excavated.  In Apollonia , for example, the ground is littered with broken pottery and mosaics.  We would pick up pieces that if found in the Forum in Rome would make headlines.  They were so plentiful that if we had tried to avoid stepping on them it would have been impossible for us to walk through the city. Each city had its own appeal and memorable attribute.  Cyrene, which is in hills above Apollonia offered spectacular views of the Mediterranean; Sabratha possessed on of the most amazing theaters we had ever seen.  Leptis Magna, however, is the star attraction.  It is the largest preserved Roman city in the world and with as much excavated as there is, it is hard to imagine that 2-3 times as much is still buried.  To entice those who love history and ruins to come to Libya; we didn’t see a single other visitor at any of these sites.  It is a far cry from the thousands of people that one will encounter at any other major Roman ruin.

Our route across Libya took us along the highway that follows the Mediterranean coast.  While this didn’t allow us the ability to go deep into the Sahara, it did give us the opportunity to see all of the cities that played an integral role in the recent revolution.  Misrata was incredible for a few reasons.  First, the shear amount of damage done to the city is unbelievable.  Second, the notion that Gadhafi would do this to his own people is just sickening.  Lastly, and most amazing, was the fact that the bottom floor of almost every building was repaired, the businesses were back, and there were people on the street rebuilding and moving forward.   Misrata is home to a fantastic museum that, while rough around the edges, provides an extremely complete view of the ups and downs of the revolution.  It has pictures of every man, woman, and child killed in the battle. It houses children’s drawings, artwork and jewelry made from ammunition shells, and many of Gadhafi’s personal items.  The prize item is one of his silver AK-47s.  Interestingly, they have a box of his grooming products that was found with him in Sirt.  One of the more interesting displays features many home-made RPG launchers, guns, and mortar launchers that the rebels used to repel Gadhafi’s troops.

Entering Libya, there were no expectations, and upon exiting, we all found ourselves thankful we had been able to see a country that is in the midst of lightning fast change.  We encourage everyone to go see everything Libya has to offer, but give these two recommendations.  First, only go during Ramadan if you want to lose weight.  Literally NOTHING is open during the day, and even in the evening it is very hard to find restaurants.  Those restaurants that are open generally will start serving around 9:30-10PM.  Secondly, use Libya Travel and Tours to set everything up.  They were ridiculously helpful from day one.  They were the first tour company in Libya post-revolution and are extremely helpful with every element from the time you start the visa process till you are gone from Libya.  Also, they were extremely understanding when we need to change our dates and booking numbers (car troubles and minus one Ann).  Thank you Jill and everyone at Libya Travel and Tours!

So, then there was the 24-hour ferry to Tunis, for which we hadn’t booked cabins to save a bit of money. We, inexperienced Tunisia ferry passengers that we were, didn’t realize that nearly all of the passengers without cabins would bring provisions to create makeshift beds and family areas in every nook and cranny on the boat–every nook and cranny. Fortunately after a bit of hunting, we found the secret reserved seating area in the “cinema” where only one passenger had reserved a seat (Joe had to move from her seat – ha). We claimed some cushy chairs that were perfect for sleeping. For entertainment, we read, wandered around, watched bits of racy Italian television, and enjoyed cappuccinos and croissants with the Honduran barista. Try as we might, we were unable to find the advertised casino or either of the two clubs. The advertised WIFI? The Italian crew just shrugged. We did get our first taste of Ramadan as various hallways converted to prayer rooms at sunset and families packed the dining room to break their fasts.

We arrived in Tunis around midnight and met couch-surfing friends Fab, Anissa, and Bethany at a house party near Place Pasteur. After a bit of revelry, Joe and I went to stay with our delightful hosts Anissa and Bethany and the Scotts stayed with the wonderful Fab. The next morning, we woke up and prepared for a fun beach day until we received a call from the Scotts–someone had smashed the rear passenger window of “Lefty” and stolen their packs–not the expensive tools, not the GPS or walkie-talkies–no, their packs (although they did get a few electronics in the mix). Worst. Thieves. Ever. Inconvenient? Yes. Trip ending? No. There was also the problem of fixing the broken window, but thanks to the help of Anissa and Bethany we were able to procure a suitable replacement: plexiglass. Nope, we can’t use the door anymore. No, the window doesn’t roll up or down. Yes, the plexiglass is held up by clear plastic tape.

The rest of our time in Tunis was incredible! We enjoyed an Iftar at a boutique hotel in the medina. As the city awoke for the late night, we smoked shisha and wandered through the winding souq passageways. Everyone agreed that the highlight was enjoying dinner with Anissa’s kind and generous family on our last night in Tunis.

Next, we headed south to the Libyan border, making a quick stop at the Roman coliseum of El-Jem. The El-Jem coliseum is spectacular, but the ruins were made especially memorable as the site of our second Shoebaru team injury. After quick trip to an emergency room in Sfax, Scott Campbell got a souvenir he hadn’t expected: an X-ray of a fractured foot. Single crutch in hand and a smile on his face, Scott was determined to carry on.

After our Sfax detour, we ventured to Matmata to see the sunken homes and hotels famous sets for various Star Wars films (we miss you, Ann!). We then enjoyed a delicious traditional Tunisian meal and later sipped tea in a Berber mountain village (Joe purchased a small rug, of course). That night we camped at the quasi-closed Libyan border…

Thank you, thank you, thank you to Anissa, Bethany, Fab, the glass shop owners and workers and everyone else we met in Tunisia–except the car thieves. Screw you, car thieves. Hopefully Scott Brills’ large Under Armor shirts are too big for you and look silly.

Once we got BKK and the inside of the car cleaned up we re-focused on getting Righty back in action. The battery was still a potential culprit, so after trying everything else we set about replacing it, at Marcelo’s request. We got the car to start, but it looked like it still wasn’t charging while the motor was on. Nevertheless, it gave us approximately five hours or so to make it somewhere where we could get the issues looked at, and hopefully fixed. Time was running out–we had a ferry to catch the next evening, and if we missed that we’d be out of a lot of money, and our schedule would be more messed up than it already was.

Joe, Scott, and BKK set off to find Internet to see what authorized Subaru mechanics could be found in the Florence area, which Emily guarded the vehicles. By the time Internet had been procured and the information gathered it was already past 2PM, and we had to hustle if we were going to make it there in time for diagnostics, and the ordering of parts by morning of the next day, if needed.

The shop was still closed for lunch by the time we arrived a half hour later, but the mechanics soon returned and we relayed our issues to them with the help of an Italian neurosurgeon who spoke English, who just happened to be there to check on his own Subaru. As we thought, the alternator wasn’t charging the battery at all–it was a case of a bum part. We could order an off-brand replacement and have it installed before lunch the next day, so we decided to go that route, seeing as there weren’t really any other viable options and time was of the essence. That left us time to finally explore the beautiful city of Florence that evening, which we really couldn’t complain about.

We had been in touch with a couple from the UK–Gemma and Bryn from 2DoAfrica.com–that were doing a multi-month Africa crossing of their own around the same time as us. It didn’t look like we would be able to meet up en route, but seeing as we were a week behind, it just so happened that both parties ended up in Florence on the same day. We met up with them for dinner and drinks in the city center, doing a bit of exploring along the way. They had already found a campsite for the night just outside of the city, so we followed them to it and ended up staying there overnight.

At 12:00AM it was officially Scott’s birthday, so Gemma and Bryn were kind enough to break out their stash of super-chilled French beers from their car fridge to celebrate the occasion. That left just enough time to catch a few z’s before departing the 2DoAfrica crew to push on towards Salerno –hopefully without any issues along the way. That would be the best birthday present of all!

Our cars were ready thanks to our mechanic friend Marcelo and the friendly staff over at Radlmaier Autohaus, Munchen. Marcelo had been able to diagnose and fix the major issues with both of the cars during that week while making full use of technology. Thanks to a handy program on a few of our phones (WhatsApp) we were able to forward timely images of the faulty engine components from Marcelo in Germany to our mechanic friends in the US throughout the repairs. This meant Marcelo was able to finish all the repairs in time for us to make our ferry (which we had rescheduled to a later time and different location to adjust for extra repairs), despite the rest of the mechanics being on holiday during that time period. The work and parts required was quite extensive, and so was the bill. Regardless, we were happy to have Lefty and Righty back in our possession and be on the road again.

The plan for the day was to drive six hours south to Florence, where we would stay for the night and spend most of the next day sightseeing. The first few hours involved a soggy trek through the Austrian Alps, followed by the mountains of northern Italy. We made a stop for lunch at a small German/Italian town only to find that everywhere was closed until later on in the day, so we continued on the road, eventually stopping for an early dinner once we reached Bologna.

Our first meal in Italy was a pleasant one–after a bit of walking around we each had a pizza at a restaurant right outside of the city center. After that we grabbed some gelato and headed back on the road, stopping once we were about a half hour outside of Florence to camp for the night. The highway rest stop was a bit too crowded to pull put the tents, so we opted to take local roads until we found a park parking lot, where we set up camp for the night.

The next day started out with an amazing drive through country roads, culminating in a spectacular view of Florence from atop a hill overlooking the city. We made our way down into the city center, and proceeded to try and find a suitable parking lot from which to leave and explore the city center. Easier said than done of course, as the entire city was plastered with ‘no parking’ signs, and we weren’t looking to get the shoes towed a day before we needed to catch our ferry.

We circled the city once, and then made our way back to the main roundabout to try a different area. Joe was driving Righty right in front of us, and right as we were crossing a busy intersection the car died. I thought it was just a stall, and waited for him to restart it, but it was not to be. Four lanes of traffic stopped due to our misfortune, BKK and Emily got out and pushed the car to the nearest side road while I piloted Lefty behind them. We parked both cars on the side of the road next to a restaurant, and set about trying to diagnose the issue(s).

An officer stood on each side of the car and asked to see our papers. We have all of the necessary documents for each vehicle in a folder located in the center console, so I leafed through it to grab the registration, import, and license docs, which we handed over along with our passports and my drivers license. Then they asked for the insurance paperwork…the insurance paperwork I knew that we didn’t have with us.

You see, the only one of us that has insurance to drive the cars is Emily, and that is exactly who had it at that time. Yes, the same Emily that was back at the Czech-Out camp, sleeping. I tried to “explain” my way out of it (both cops spoke reasonably good English), but they insisted on seeing the papers. So, I had no choice but to call her and explain the situation. She confirmed that she was in possession of the single original copy of the insurance paperwork, which left us in a bit of a bind. I told her we’d call back. The cops told us to follow them back to the station. Damn.

We followed them for about ten minutes to a relatively small station in the middle of town. It was obvious that Ann would have trouble making it up the steps to the station, and we definitely played this up a bit, but they wouldn’t have any of it. We were put in the holding area of the main office while they supposedly checked our documents. This took hours. In the meantime, we tried our best to make everyone present feel as bad as possible for our incarceration, complete with crying, cast-cutting (the Czechs wrapped it too tight), and lots of pacing back and forth with a mix of worry and concern on my face.

It was getting close to twelve hours post-incident, Ann still hadn’t gotten any medication, and it was getting more and more swollen and hurty, so the decision was made to call an ambulance to take her to the local hospital for the time being–even if it was just to get her out of there and in a more comfortable setting (complete with pain meds, hopefully). The ambulance came after about thirty minutes or so (busy day in Zweisel?), and carted her off, possessions and all–just in case I was stuck at the station indefinitely. Luckily that wasn’t the case, and I was released a half hour later. Turns out that the main cop that had been dealing with us really liked the U.S. (he had many friends there and had been to visit 27 times), and so he said he would “help me out”, which he indeed did!

He told me to get in the car and follow him to the hospital, where I was to reunite with Ann. She was feeling a bit better after receiving some first-world treatment (even if it was a small town in rural Germany, it was much better than what she had had the night before). They re-took the X-rays and determined that she did indeed need surgery, which left her to sort everything out with her insurance company for much of the rest of the day.

It would be tough to get to Munich in her present condition, so she was given a room where she could rest up a bit (neither of us had slept much the previous few days), and determine what to do next. The insurance company wouldn’t pay to do the operation there and wanted her to fly back to the U.K., but that posed some mobility issues as well. In the end it took two days of phone calls and back-and-forth to get her out of Zweisel, to the Munich Airport, and back to the U.K. (to the hospital she had just ended her contract with, ironically). Luckily, they had Internet available, so I kept her company while getting some work done at the same time–productive! The staff was very friendly the entire time we were there, and the food was quite good throughout (first time staying in a hospital though, so have nothing to compare it to).

When she got there they re-examined her ankle and determined she did not, in fact, need surgery (for the time being). Go figure.

FUN FACT: they sell beer and liquor at the gift shop on the ground floor of the hospital!

After hours of fraternizing, drinking, and masticating, I had lost track of just about everyone at the castle, so I decided to wander about to see what was going on in other locales. After about 20 minutes of meandering I happened to be walking by a bench when my name was called and an arm shot out, grabbing my hoodie. It appeared that Ann was just resting on the bench, leg sprawled out, but as we now know she had fractured her ankle. She sat there for a while trying to self-diagnose whether she could continue on or not, and eventually the decision was made to contact the staff and arrange for transport to the nearest hospital, as there was no way she could even walk the twenty minutes required to get back to the camp site.

A few of us helped get her out of the castle and to the entrance, where we would await the ambulance. After waiting 45 minutes or so Ann remembered that her insurance paperwork and whatnot was back at the car, so I sprinted off to get it. On my way back up the hill I was deluged with comments from drunken revelers on their way back to the tents about how the party was already over, and I shouldn’t bother heading to the castle. One of them stuck their arm out in front of me and I got smacked in the face. Then someone else did the same thing thirty seconds later, and I was smacked again. Nevertheless, I persevered on, running the entire way back, only to find out that Ann had just been picked up and driven off. The remaining team members and I returned back down the hill to regroup.

We needed to deliver the documents to Ann still, so Joe and I took down the roof tent and hopped in Lefty to try and make our way to the hospital. Amazingly, Joe got us there without getting lost at all, but once we had arrived it was a bit tricky finding which building we needed to go to, seeing as no one was around and all of the lights were off. We eventually stumbled upon the right door and were admitted to a dimly-lit corridor, where Ann was seated in a wheelchair along with her Czech interpreter. It happened that the hospital refused to see her without first checking her insurance paperwork, so she had been sitting there for more than an hour waiting for us to bring it over (which we had no idea of). She was frustrated, tried, and had no pain medication. Things were not going well.

We handed the paperwork over for the staff’s perusal. Present was an older lady who seemed to be in charge, a medical technician who looked like Frankenstein’s assistant, Igor, and an ornery X-ray tech (who proceeded to berate our translator ["It says to press once stupid--what, you can't read?"] after he pressed the ‘assistance’ button more than once, thus rudely waking him from his slumber). X-rays were taken (with me right beside Ann at the time), cast was applied, and payment was dealt with (we had no Czech Crowns, so they did a bit of currency exchange for our Euros on the spot). Still no pain meds though.

Thoroughly exhausted by this point, we drove back to the campsite as the sun was coming up. The plan was to take Ann to the nearest big city–Munich–to get proper medical care in the morning… which it already was. We got maybe a couple hours of sleep (none for Ann, still without pain meds), before the pain was too much–we had to get Ann to the hospital. Everyone was still too sleepy/exhausted/hungover from the previous days travails to get on the road right away, so I volunteered to drive her myself, leaving the rest of the crew with Righty. It would take about two hours to make our way south again, through the German border, and onward to the hospital that Ann had set up with her insurance provider to provide assistance.

We hadn’t been in Germany for over five minutes when a car swiftly passed us and an arm shot out of the window holding a “Polizei” signs, signaling for us to pull over in back of them.

To be continued…