Crossing bridges and city lines

I didn't think you would find it interesting that I was huddled in bed all day Thursday, sick with a cold. No big deal, and I'm feeling much better, but there wasn't anything very interesting to tell. I spent the next day exploring in Augsburg, had a kundalini massage and found an adult ballet class to take. It was freezing cold but I insisted on saving money so I walked everywhere. I don't know how it feels back home, but in Germany in the last week, it's dropped to about -15 C, which I'm told is extreme. My fingers and toes are so cold through my gloves and socks that it feels like they're being hit by direct air. A huge change from just a week ago.

I'm in Stuttgart but probably leaving tomorrow. I heard about some new opportunities that id like to try before returning to Antwerp next week. Sunday seems quiet for social activities in Stuttgart, but I found a yoga class to take.

My roommate is a very friendly girl named Eleni from Greece, and I think we're having some dinner together later. You really learn to appreciate social interaction when you travel alone.

I keep meaning to tell you the craziest story! First of all, I have to edit an earlier comment that canals passed through Lyon. They are actually rivers, the Rhone and Saone. Well, to get from the hostel to the theater, you had to cross a bridge over the Saone. On the last day, I had all my bags because I was leaving Lyon for Paris, and it was about 9am. It was beautifully sunny and warm, and there were a few other people crossing the bridge on their ways to work.

All of a sudden I noticed that it felt almost too peaceful. I looked around and saw the water on either side, normal, and scanned the ground of the bridge. There were spots from daily city activity, but then I noticed...some of the spots were wet. And some were just splatting down. I could hear them and almost feel the wetness, but it was a perfectly sunny day...

And then I looked up. All along the top of the bridge, in two perfect straight lines, we're hundreds of seagulls, perched on the line. They were really high up and I could only see their undersides, all facing the same direction. That was when I realized, I was walking on a land mine!

When I finally made it across, I thought I'd survived without being hit. Then I saw, on the corner of my bag, a fresh, steaming, gift from above.

And that is the story I've been meaning to tell you.