Dinner and a Slow Train to Copenhagen

So, after the coat excitement (and an awesome lunch with my friend Courtney from NYU who is living in Amsterdam for the summer), I raced to Amsterdam Centraal to catch a train bound for Copenhagen, my next stop. My first train, on this journey, was an InterCityExpress, bound for Duisburg, Germany. I boarded the train at 7:19p, I arrived in Duisburg at 9:47p, about a half hour late. You know I'm FAR too cheap to buy train food. However, by 9:47p, I might just have sprung for the €10 half-sandwich! So, with about two hours to kill before my train to Denmark, I decide to have a look around. As I meander through this small German town, I discover that almost all of its eating establishments are either American chains (which just breaks my heart) or close. All, except, for the "Schnelfoods" place I find about five blocks from the station. As I stare at the menu -- all in German -- I discover that this place probably doesn't employ anybody who speaks English. Into my head pops my father's German-speaking voice. All I can catch is "klein"" and "Deutsche." Damn my fascination with Latin. I walk into the restaurant and go up to the counter. The waitress greets me in German. DAMN! I say "schpreken klein Deutsche," at which point she smiles. I order something with schnitzel, at which point she replies to me in English, "Would you like it to stay or to go?" I thank her and take it "to go." However, now that I know she speaks English, she's not getting off the hook! I ask her to tell me a little about Duisburg and she informs me that it is a university town, home to the third largest and (after some gesturing) best in Germany. The owner comes out from the back. Turns out she speaks English too! We have a lively conversation for a good twenty minutes about the history of Duisburg, the town layout, what I was doing... you get the picture. They invite me to come back after Copenhagen ("You must go," they said, "it is so beautiful!") and check out Duisburg. Feeling thrilled to have really connected with some locals (and with some cheap and yummy German food in hand), I head back to the station and boarded the 11:17p for Copenhagen. The DB Nachtzug. The night train.

Now, night trains are great. You get a flat place to sleep, a nice, cushy mattress, a fluffy blanket, a soft pillow and the clickety-clack of the train to rock you to sleep. It's all very peaceful and actually sleep-inducing. With one exception. As a non-EU citizen, my passport is of great interest to the conductor. However, he is polite enough not to take the blue thing from me. So, whenever he needs to see it, Mr. Conductor comes a-knockin'. Three times over the course of the night, all evenly-spaced, he woke me up to take a peak at my passport. Thus, somewhat rested (and having apologized to the Swedes in my compartment for having the lights thrown on so many times during the night), I arrive in Copenhagen.