Yesterday, Bill and I had an appointment to update our ID cards. We’re kind of cutting it to the wire, as our old IDs were due to expire June 25th. German authorities were taking awhile to update paperwork that allows us to stay in the country legally. Then, there was another person in Bill’s office who had to complete a procedure before we could get the IDs updated. Next week, we’re going to Lithuania, to be followed by yet another long planned trip to Switzerland…
Fortunately, everything came together, and Bill was able to pick me up and take me to the ID office yet again for new identification credentials. Had he not been able, he had another appointment for next week ready… but that would have REALLY cut it close. We also have to update our SOFA cards, which are basically the permits that allow us to be here legally.
The appointment was for 1:00 PM, and as usual, Bill got me there too early. It’s unusually chilly for June right now, and there’s nowhere to sit near where our appointment was, as the door leading to the waiting room was closed. We didn’t want to sit in the car, because that might signal that we’re about to vacate our parking spot and attract lurkers.
Bill and I went to Dunkin’ (formerly Dunkin’ Donuts) and picked up six donuts for this morning’s breakfast. We haven’t been to a Dunkin’ in years. Although the donuts were tasty this morning, I’ve noticed a downturn in quality. But at least it was something different… a nice treat for today. Bill also showed me the concessions at Clay Kaserne, which is where he works. Aside from Subway and a couple of other fast food restaurants I’ve never seen before, there are also a couple of food trucks that looked pretty decent. I had already eaten lunch, so there was no need to visit them.
On the way off post… I guess a bunch of these are rolling into DC now.
Eventually, I spotted a picnic table on the other side of the road, so we went over there… and we actually found two picnic tables, but they were mostly covered with dried bird shit. One of the tables wasn’t as bad as the other, so we sat at that one until the wind grew too chilly. By then, it was close to 1:00 PM.
When we got back to the ID office, there were a bunch of people waiting at the door. Bill whispered with some disappointment that they were going to open right on time. “You expected anything different?” I asked.
It was lucky we had an appointment, because there were a bunch of people at the office, hoping to get in for an ID update. Most of them were walk-ins, and the lady who took care of us warned them that her co-worker was unavailable because of mandatory training. We ended up being the first ones called in, and the worker turned out to be very friendly and professional.
As we were filling out and signing paperwork, I noticed the “retiree spouse” military ID I carry, but don’t use over here, had expired in April. So I got that one updated, too. I would use that ID in the United States, if I’m ever there and need access to military facilities. They’ve gotten pretty strict about ID requirements. I had to show my passport and my Texas driver’s license, which is a “Real ID”. As I handed over my old IDs, which had my name on them, I realized how absurd and overkilling the requirements are these days, but God forbid an undocumented person get access to anything. SIGH…
Anyway, I’m glad that chore is now done. It took about an hour. I wonder how many of those folks who walked in got their business taken care of. Bill brought me home and I soon ended up taking a nice, long nap. Once the SOFA cards are updated, I can feel safer about leaving the country. Don’t want to end up like the people who have been detained in the USA right now.
Below are a few signs for upcoming events in the neighborhood. We will be in Vilnius when these are going on…
Saturday, September 7th got off to an early start. We had a 10:20 AM flight to Frankfurt on Icelandair. Since Reykjavik is about a 45 minute drive from the airport, which is located in Keflavik, Iceland Luxury Tours arranged for a driver to pick us up from the Saga Hotel at 7:30 AM. Breakfast at the hotel starts at 7:00 AM, so we didn’t really have time to eat before we left. Fortunately, because we were flying in Saga Class (business), we had access to the lounge at the airport.
The driver arrived right on time in an immaculate black Audi electric car. She was tall, slim, and dressed all in black. I noticed she had beautifully manicured nails, too. Our drive to the airport was very peaceful, as the car made barely a sound and delivered a extremely smooth and comfortable ride. I found myself thinking I wouldn’t mind owning such a vehicle myself! I got a few shots of the sun peeking through the clouds. We also noticed that the volcano that was active when we arrived on August 29th was no longer spewing lava. Instead, there was just a lot of smoke.
No more lava!Sunlight!Strange place for a church!
The airport was a bit of a madhouse, as there were many people wanting to catch flights. We managed to find the Icelandair baggage drop off. I got lectured by the woman who took our bags because my SOFA card and COVID vaccination card were loose in my passport. She told me I shouldn’t keep the SOFA card there because it could fall out. I quickly, but politely, corrected her, mainly because I was a little pissy and not in the mood for a lecture from someone who obviously didn’t know that the SOFA card is basically akin to my visa. Yes, it should have ideally been taped or paper clipped in there, but it also really does need to stay with my passport.
As for the COVID card, there was a time not long ago when that was an essential travel document. Most professional people can handle looking at a passport and not losing any loose documents that are kept within it. Anyway, I wasn’t in the mood for her shit. I just wanted to get on with the transit part of the trip. She made Bill drop off one of his bags at the oversized luggage desk, not because it was oversized, but because it had straps that couldn’t be removed. In the process of dropping off that bag, we got stuck behind some guy who had a big case (either some kind of musical instrument or a firearm) that blocked the way. He kept having to stop and maneuver the case through the awkward line.
Finally, with the bags dropped off, we headed for security, which was also annoying. The airport in Keflavik doesn’t have sophisticated screening machines. You just walk through a metal detector. Naturally, I forgot to take off my watch, and my shoes set off the detector. There weren’t enough bins to put stuff in, either. But finally, we were through that nut roll, and on our way to the Icelandair lounge.
I had heard the lounge in Reykjavik was nice. I would say that it wasn’t a bad place to spend some time. There was plenty of seating and a breakfast buffet, as well as the usual drinks. Bill and I had a small breakfast. Then he decided to try one last thing before we left… a parting shot, if you will. When Bill was in Iceland for the first time, he had the opportunity to taste Brennivín, which is Iceland’s signature distilled spirit. I remember he brought some home, and I hadn’t liked it. Although the hour was early, he decided to try it one more time before we left the island. I tried it, too, and liked it somewhat better.
We didn’t bring any back with us this time…
Finally, it was time to board the aircraft. We were in seats 2D and 2 F. Saga Class wasn’t full on our return to Germany. In retrospect, I wish we’d asked to move back a row, since no one was sitting in row three, and the people in front of us were shameless recliners. I know they had the right, and all, but the guy sitting in front of Bill slammed his seat back as soon as we were in the air and left it that way the whole flight, even when we were eating.
Even in business class, reclined seats make it a lot harder to get in and out of the seat to get to the bathroom. At one point, I had to contort my body such that I lost my balance and fell over. The woman with the guy, who sat in front of me, was at least polite when she reclined. The guy in front of Bill was a total jerk, as was evidenced when it came time to disembark. He had a bunch of airline privilege cards openly displayed on his carry on bag, at least one of which showing his name. So not only was he an inconsiderate clod, he was also kind of stupid. He probably gave me COVID, too… or maybe I gave it to him. 😉
Below are some photos from the flight:
Too funny!I tried the Lundey Gin…It starts off blue, but when you pour it into tonic water…It turns pink!Decent food. Open faced sandwich with warm camembert for dessert. I skipped the cheese.
The flight was very smooth and uneventful, except for the guy in front of us. I was very pleased with Icelandair and would happily book them again. The only thing I don’t like is that I signed up for Saga Points and they haven’t been awarded yet. And when I tried to add them manually, my request was automatically rejected. Oh well… I probably won’t have much occasion to fly Icelandair much, anyway. It’s still irritating, though, when these things don’t work properly. Below are a few sky photos… I think these are actually backwards. The ones at the bottom are of Iceland and the ones directly below are Germany and continental Europe.
Once we landed in Frankfurt, we had a short walk to baggage claim (for once!) and then a short wait for our bags. I was a little nervous, because we still had to pick up the dogs and, because of the two hour time difference between Iceland and Germany, we arrived back in the middle of the afternoon. But it all turned out okay… we quickly found a cabbie who got us home speedily, and with no trouble. Then, after we started the first of a few loads of laundry, we headed off to the Hundepension to get Charlie and Noyzi.
Normally, Bill handles picking up the dogs by himself, but Charlie isn’t very comfortable with car rides yet. He plants his feet and backpedals, and Bill was worried he might need help. So I went with him to get the dogs, and I made a video of our reunion!
Excuse my laugh…
As you can see, they both did fine at the Hundepension. Natascha, who takes good care of our boys, said Charlie was so cute! His helicopter tail was going full blast. I would have liked to have let them get acquainted with a shorter visit before our Iceland trip, but there simply wasn’t time for it. Fortunately, there were no issues, and Charlie did brilliantly. He also didn’t have trouble getting into the car. I think maybe he’s afraid he’s going to be dumped when he goes in the car. Noyzi used to be afraid of the car, too. Now, he LOVES car rides. Hopefully, Charlie will get there, too.
Well… that about does it for my “blow by blow” account of our Iceland trip. I will write my usual “ten things I learned” post next, and then perhaps it’ll be time to move on from Iceland. I’m not sure where our next trip will be. At this point, we’re thinking about Spain, but that’s not definite yet. We’ll see.
In other news, as of yesterday, I am now COVID free! 😀
We’ve finally reached the end of my Armenian series. What an amazing trip it was! Bill says it was one of the best trips we’ve done together, and we didn’t even go to many of the really cool ancient places for which Armenia is famous. Instead, we met people I knew years ago, saw places where I used to live, ate good food and drank wine, listened to great live music, and enjoyed being somewhere other than continental Europe, for a change. I almost hated to leave!
Bill arranged for a van to pick us up at 2:30 AM, giving us plenty of time for our 5:05 AM non-stop flight to Frankfurt on Lufthansa. We didn’t really need a van, but the guy at the front desk warned Bill that it might be best to order one if we had a lot of luggage. So, there we were– two of us with four bags between us. The driver looked at us and said, “That’s it?” For this, we paid a fare of 17,000 drams. He was a good driver, though, so Bill gave him 20,000 drams and told him to keep the change. The driver was happy, and wished us a pleasant flight.
We went up to the Lufthansa baggage drop, and the woman at the counter eyed the portfolio Bill presented and said she thought it should go in oversize baggage. I asked if it was absolutely necessary, and she asked a colleague, who said it was fine for the portfolio to go through the normal luggage queue. So, with our bags dropped, and our tickets printed, we headed to security. This is where things got a bit traumatic.
I was shocked to see these cartons of cigarettes…Just about every Armenian man smokes. I’m not sure these over the top warnings work. But they are very amusing to see!
I mentioned in my first post in this series that I got groped by an aggressive female security officer. I’m not exactly sure what her problem was, but my problem was that there was a woman holding everybody up, because she had a baby stroller that she was struggling to fold. Instead of stepping aside to deal with the stroller, she was in front of the metal detector, blocking everyone’s egress. I don’t know about you, but when it’s about 3:30 AM, and I haven’t had any coffee, I’m not the friendliest person in the world. But I wasn’t complaining. I wasn’t saying anything or causing a scene. I probably just looked a bit annoyed.
I had gotten out of the habit of flying, thanks to COVID. And I live where advanced security screening is in place. Nowadays, travelers coming through Frankfurt don’t have to take off watches and the like. But Yerevan only has a metal detector. It doesn’t have a scanner. I forgot to take off my watch, and the metal detector went off. The security officer started frisking me, then noticed the watch. I had to put it in a bin and go through the detector again. The thing went off again, probably because there was metal in my shoes and my bra. She started her aggressive frisking, ordering me to put my arms out again and snapping, “I haven’t finished with you yet!” as she ran her hands over my stomach and between my legs. I was getting a bit pissed off, and felt rather violated.
Then she started speaking Russian to me, and I looked her in the eyes and said, very calmly and seriously, in English, “I don’t speak Russian.”
In retrospect, maybe I should have said that in Armenian, which I could have done. It probably would have really disarmed her. But English did the trick. She backed off immediately, and I got my stuff and got out of there. I don’t know if she was truly done harassing me, or if she’d thought I was Russian and was taking out collective Armenian hostility toward me… someone she might have thought was from Russia. In any case, while I understand that security screening at airports is very important, that woman’s hostile demeanor and lack of courtesy didn’t leave me with a great impression. Fortunately, most of the other people I ran into during our trip made up for her inappropriate and obnoxious attitude.
Yerevan’s updated airport is pretty nice, and it has a decent duty free shop that everyone has to walk through on their way into the secure gate area. We looked around for the business class lounge, which it turns out is upstairs. There’s an elevator in the duty free shop, or stairs for those who prefer them. The lounge is for business class or higher travelers using any airline. Those who are waiting there can enjoy snacks and beverages… coffee machines with Russian instructions, beer, wine, sparkling water, and the like. Bill and I had some coffee while we waited. The restrooms have showers in them, and only one toilet. I guess if you need a shower, you can lock the door, and all the other travelers would be out of luck.
A must in an Armenian airport.Even my morning man, Bill, was a bit over it at that hour…Jermuk tastes better than it used to. We drank a lot of it, as well as Bjni.
Bill saw a sign that our flight was boarding, even though it was ahead of the time noted on our tickets. Not wanting to miss Lufthansa’s one weekly flight to Frankfurt, we went down to the gate, where a whole bunch of people were waiting. There were some cute girls in sweats who were wide awake, practicing what appeared to be cheers. I didn’t know Armenia had cheerleaders, and maybe that’s not what they were. But they looked like cheerleaders, and their early morning pep was both amusing and a little irritating.
It took forever for our flight to start boarding. In fact, we didn’t start boarding until some time after the listed boarding time. And business class passengers were boarded later. I guess they were loading the back of the aircraft first, which makes sense. I don’t know why people are so eager to get on the plane, anyway. I think most folks just want to get the whole ordeal over with, nowadays. Flying isn’t the luxe experience it once was.
Bill and I were in the third row. As soon as we sat down, an American guy took the seat behind me. He was sitting with a British guy who kept calling him “my brother”. They didn’t know each other before they were seated in the same row, but boy, did they act like they were buddies. The two of them immediately launched into a loud and obnoxious conversation about where they lived (both in England, near or in London), what they did for a living (retired orthopedic surgeon who supposedly worked with US military special ops, and a presenter for the BBC), what kind of luxury cars they drove or hoped to own (don’t remember that part), and how they get their news (American dude preferred reading the news to watching TV, because TV news is too biased). It went on for awhile, and I was worried I was going to have to listen to them blather for five hours.
Meanwhile, the lady sitting in front of me appeared to be Armenian. She had a pretty girl with her who looked to be about 13 or so. The pretty girl went alone to the back of the aircraft, while (mom?) sat down in front of me. I caught her casting a furtive look at the two chatterboxes behind Bill and me, who were continuing to run their mouths about their luxurious lifestyles in England. We were all in on their conversation, whether we wanted to be or not! I asked Bill if he had any earbuds, since I didn’t bring my headphones with me. He misunderstood and pulled out ear plugs. Fortunately, he also had earbuds, and I tested them to see if they’d work on my tablet. They did, and I heaved a sigh of relief, although I hate wearing earbuds. They are usually too big for my ears and don’t stay in well.
We took off, and the lady in front of me immediately reclined. I didn’t mind it, though, because I had plenty of space in front of me. I’m short, anyway, so there’s usually ample leg room for me. Once we were in the air, I had to pee really badly. But the pilot kept the seatbelt light on for ages. Bill finally got up after about an hour or so, and asked when they were going to turn off the light so I could go to the bathroom. The flight attendants said it would only be a few more minutes. Suddenly, there was a commotion in the back. A woman came up to speak to the flight attendants, and they went to the back to see what was wrong.
A few minutes later, the seatbelt light finally went off, and with a groan of immense gratitude, I went to relieve myself. Meanwhile, the flight attendants were asking for medical personnel to come forward. The guy behind me got up, as did an Ear, Nose, and Throat doctor from Wales. There were many Welsh people in Yerevan during our visit, because of football. I’m guessing that’s why the ENT doctor was there. Bill and I were a little afraid the flight might need to be diverted, since the flight attendants seemed so concerned.
But then a few minutes later, the ortho guy sat down again, and told his new British friend that there was a lady back there who had neglected to take her medication and was having some kind of medical issue related to that. He went on a little more about the woman, then said that he’d let the ENT doctor from Wales handle the emergency, since he’d retired from medicine in ’08. He didn’t look old enough to retire, but based on what he was loudly telling everyone in business class, he had done very well for himself and was now living a life of leisure. Anyway, he did mention that the woman would be alright. So much for healthcare privacy, but there is no HIPAA in the friendly skies. 😉
Then the American “doctor man” started talking about the wonders of Georgian brandies and his visit to the Genocide Memorial, as if he knew what he was talking about. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes… but in my defense, it was very early in the morning; I was still a bit traumatized by the aggressive frisking; and I’d already been listening to those two guys ramble on for over an hour.
Finally, the flight attendants served breakfast. We had a choice between sweet and savory. I chose sweet, and Bill chose savory. It was too dark to take a photo, although I don’t remember the food being inedible. I usually stick with a roll and some water or orange juice, anyway.
We landed in Frankfurt at about 7:00 AM. When we went through passport control, I was confronted with a handsome young German guy in a uniform. He was markedly more pleasant than the Armenian officials had been. He started leafing through my passport and said, “How long have you been in Germany?”
I said, “About nine years.” Bill was standing behind me, rolling his eyes.
“Do you have a residency permit?” the guy asked with a surprisingly flirtatious smile.
“I have a SOFA card in the back of the passport.” I responded.
The guy found it, noted that it wasn’t expired, and sent me on my way. When it was Bill’s turn, he said, “That’s my wife.” The guy stamped his passport and let him go.
It always amazes me when border control guards are confronted by Americans who are very casual about approaching them. They don’t see a residency permit, and ask how long we’ve been here. We tell them “SOFA City, sweetheart…” They roll their eyes and let us go. Wouldn’t you eventually just look for the SOFA card before asking about a residency card?
SOFA, for those who don’t know, stands for “Status of Forces Agreement”. It’s basically like a special residency card for Americans who work for the US government or military, as well as their families. It allows us unlimited entrance and exit privileges from our host countries, as well as legal residency, and some other privileges. But it’s not quite the same thing as a German residency card.
We made our way to the baggage carousel. I noticed there weren’t too many people there, which probably means a lot of people were on their way to the USA or England… or maybe somewhere else in continental Europe. Having flown to Yerevan from the USA before, I didn’t envy them. But I would rather fly from Yerevan to the USA than the other way around. It gets earlier when you go west, so you don’t tend to feel so disoriented.
When I flew back to the USA after my Peace Corps assignment, I had been traveling by train around Europe for a month. It wasn’t nearly as traumatic as when I went to Yerevan in 1995. Well, it wasn’t as traumatic until 1997, when I met my father at Dulles Airport, and he treated me like something he’d scraped off his shoe, and told me he was going into rehab for his alcoholism the next day. Don’t get me wrong. I was glad he was getting treatment, but he sure spoiled my carefully cultivated “coming home” fantasy that was two years in the making.
After we found our bags, we were looking for that portfolio with our paintings that Bill had worked so hard to acquire the day prior to our journey. A German airport employee guy came around with it and seemed to know that it belonged to us. The Armenian lady at the Lufthansa desk had, sure enough, sent it to oversized baggage, even though it only weighed about two kilos and was flat. I guess it was too cumbersome for the regular baggage drop.
Bill and I easily found a taxi, which took us back to our humble abode in Breckenheim. The weather was cold and drizzly, just as it usually is in Germany at this time of year. I was glad to be back home, although we really had a great time in Armenia. It already feels like a dream, though… Like I can’t believe I went back there and felt so very comfortable. I still know the city of Yerevan like the back of my hand. Obviously, we will have to go back and explore some more. The good news is, now that Bill has had a taste of Armenian hospitality, he’s ready for a new adventure!
So ends my Armenian blow by blow blog series. I just have one more post to make, and that would be my highly entertaining “ten things I learned” list. Hopefully, some folks will read that. I learned an awful lot on this trip. So, by all means, stay tuned if you’re interested…
Since COVID-19 is ramping up again, the weather is icky, and we’re not really seeing the sights right now due to those factors and our new pooch, I thought today I’d offer a few handy tips for people who are planning to bring their dog(s) to Germany. This post isn’t about travel tips. I haven’t brought any dogs overseas to Germany since 2014, and the rules have changed since then. Even now, I look at our new family member, Noizy, and realize how huge he is. If we have to take him in an airplane, I’m pretty sure the process will be different than it was with the other four dogs we’ve flown with (three of whom are now at the Rainbow Bridge).
This post is more about encouraging Americans to do things they might not think is necessary. I’ve now spent a total of eight years living in Germany. I was here in Stuttgart from 07-09 and 14-18, and now in Wiesbaden from 18 until now. Having been in two different military communities, I’ve seen a lot of people expressing reluctance at doing things the German way. I’m here to tell you that if you’re one of those people who doesn’t think it’s necessary to get pet liability insurance or register your dog with TASSO, you may be making a big mistake.
The very first piece of advice I would offer any American moving to Germany with a dog is to get pet liability insurance. While you’re doing that, also get personal liability insurance. If your dog damages something or gets into trouble, the insurance is a great thing to have. I would highly recommend using a local broker to get the insurance, which is not very expensive at all. For two dogs, we pay about 80 euros a year. And that covers us if something awful happens, like one of the dogs runs away and causes a car accident, or the dog damages the house in some way. We got our insurance through a German broker who was hanging out in the local Facebook groups. Chances are, you can get it that way, too. Or ask around for a recommendation.
Personal liability insurance is good to have for when YOU have an accident of some sort. We have used ours. Most Germans have personal liability insurance, which also isn’t that expensive and can save you a lot of headaches, unless, of course, you’re dealing with someone who is greedy, entitled, and dishonest, which sadly, can also happen. But that’s a rant for another post. It’s good to have the insurance, though, because the insurance company will fight on your behalf if a person wants more money after an accident or mishap. Also, many Germans won’t expect you to have it.
The second piece of advice I would offer is registering your pet with TASSO.net. This organization is committed to helping you find your pet if he or she gets lost– kind of like an Amber Alert for pets. You send them photos and information about your pet(s), as well as their microchip number(s). They will send you tags to put on your pet’s collar and, should one get away from you, they’ll make flyers that can be posted and shared on social media. When our failed adoptee, Jonny, escaped his pet taxi last spring, TASSO sent us a helpful flyer with contact information. At that time, Jonny was still registered with the rescue he came from and when he was sadly found dead the day after he escaped, authorities were able to contact the rescue to let them know. Both of our dogs are now registered with TASSO, in case something should happen.
Jonny was also covered by the rescue’s pet liability insurance, because we hadn’t yet completed his adoption when he met his demise. If we had taken him in and not transferred his coverage to ours, we would have likely been on the hook for paying for the accident he caused when a driver hit him. Always make sure you have that coverage BEFORE an accident happens, especially if you’re adopting a dog while over here. Our new dog, Noizy, was on our pet insurance before we picked him up two weeks ago. That’s the way it should always be. Don’t forget to get the insurance in the excitement of adopting a new dog, especially since dogs who are new to your family might be more likely to panic and run away from home and you will be less likely to know what could trigger them to behave in unexpected ways.
Many people also look into getting pet health insurance. We haven’t done that ourselves, mainly because our original dogs, Zane and Arran, were too old for it. Veterinary care in Germany is very reasonably priced, especially compared to the United States. Some vets will even take the VAT form, which if you’re American, makes you exempt from paying German taxes on some goods and services. Not all businesses will take the VAT form and they are never required to, but the ones who cater to Americans often will. That can save you significant money, as long as the forms are filled our properly. Our former vet in Stuttgart had some issues with the VAT that resulted in money having to be paid. Fortunately for us, they were willing to pay because it was their mistake, and we didn’t even have to ask them to do it.
Arran getting a belly rub.
Be sure to familiarize yourself with Germany’s laws regarding pets, too. For example, it’s illegal to drive here with your animals loose in the car. They have to be in a crate or wearing a “seat belt”. You can purchase those items easily at any pet store.
Certain items that are legal in the USA are not legal here. Shock collars are not allowed, for example, and you can get in trouble for using them if you get caught. Likewise, you’re not allowed/supposed to leave your animals alone all day. This isn’t an issue for us, since I am at home most of the time, but if you’re in a dual career family with no one home during the day, you may need to hire a dog walker or use a doggy daycare. They do exist here. Germans are also very big on training dogs, so don’t be surprised if someone tells you to take your dog to the Hundschule. That happened to us a couple of times when we lived here the first time– back then, Germans weren’t as accustomed to beagles, who bay when they get on a scent. Beagles are becoming a lot more popular here now, but most German dogs are still very well trained.
If you’re here on SOFA status, make sure you register your pets with the vet on post. Otherwise, German tax collectors will expect you to license your dog(s) locally, and that can get very expensive. German dog taxes are more than what you’d expect to pay in the United States, and there are also fines for failing to register.
We don’t regret having our dogs with us in Germany. Germans love dogs and they can make great ambassadors in facilitating meeting people. It’s easier to travel with them here than at home, although we’ve found some excellent “Tierpensions” for when we can’t take them with us. I love having the dogs around for company, especially when Bill travels. There is a learning curve, though. Above all, I urge all Americans to please GET THE INSURANCE. And definitely register with TASSO! If your dog gets loose, you will want and need both of those protections.
This morning, Bill and I went to get my German driver’s license renewed. After five years, your license expires. We’ve been here since August 2014, so it was time to get this chore accomplished. Because we’re here on SOFA status, our driver’s license procedure is different than it would be if we were ordinary residents. We have to go to an office on an installation, in this case, Clay Kaserne, fill out paperwork, take an eye test, and pay $20. Technically, my stateside license is what makes me legal to drive here, but we have to have one issued by the military installation, too.
License renewal is pretty easy, since it doesn’t require taking a test. In 2007 and 2014, I had to take the driver’s license test. I was able to pass on the first try both times, although not everyone does. I think both times, I took a class directly before the exam was given, although the class is now available online. I don’t think it’s a hard test, but it does take time to get it done. I still have the first German license that was issued to me in 2007. I turned my license from 2014 in today and should get a new one in the mail in a few weeks.
The guy who helped me this morning was a delightful German fellow who was cracking jokes the whole time. I found him very amusing, and could tell that he shares a love of sweets with me. He had a jar of cookies, a candy jar full of gummi fish, and another box of cookies on his desk. When he noticed we’d moved up here from Stuttgart, he was extolling the virtues of Wiesbaden versus Stuttgart. To be honest, I think I like living up here more, although there are a few things I miss about Stuttgart. Stuttgart is a lot more familiar to me and I think the surrounding area is prettier… there’s a lot more nature and pretty buildings that weren’t destroyed in World War II. But the people up here seem more relaxed about almost everything, which makes life easier for me.
After we filled out my paperwork, the guy helpfully explained how I can get an international driver’s license. We’ve been here five years and I never bothered to get one. I don’t drive very often. Bill wants to get me one now, though, because they’re good to have in case something happens to him while we’re out of the country. Also, it’s a lot easier to get the international license up here. In Stuttgart, we had to go to a German government office to get one. It took a couple of hours because there were many people waiting and not enough people working. Up here, we can get the international license on post, and the same guy would be helping us. And… he even explained how we can expedite things even more. Very helpful guy… and very friendly! Edited to add:Bill says we still have to go to a government office to get the international license, but it’s a very large office, so it only takes a few minutes as opposed to hours.
I had occasion to use the restroom while we were renewing my license. I was amused by the wall o’ PSAs in the ladies room. There were instructions on everything from how to wash your hands to how to prevent the spread of flu. And there were tons of directives– turn off the lights, report all leaks, and dammit, wash your hands! The ladies room also had, not just a chair, but a full couch! I don’t know how many people hang out in the restroom, but if you wanted to on Clay Kaserne, you certainly could. Maybe the couch was intended for nursing moms, but I noticed they had a nursing room, too.
Seriously, you could spend ten minutes reading all of this crap on the walls. I get a kick out of military installations, because there is never a shortage of reading material. Every bulletin board is chock full of information, and the walls are full of instructions on what to do in any situation. They especially like to put stuff on the stall doors so you can read while you’re taking a dump.
As someone who could have been a public health practitioner, I do appreciate the pictorial on how to wash your hands properly… but somehow, I think those who need the sign the most probably would not take the time to read it. One would hope this would be a home taught skill, anyway. But, on the other hand, you’d likely be surprised by how many people don’t wash their hands after they go to the bathroom.
I’m just glad I didn’t see anything like this in the restroom…
I’m staying the hell away from Kansas City!
This post is proof positive that I can find something to write about every day, if I put my mind to it.
As I mentioned in the previous post, we arrived in Edinburgh just in time for the city’s annual Fringe Festival. When I booked our room at the Kimpton Charlotte Square Hotel back in early April, I had no idea this huge festival was going to be happening. If I had to do it over again, I think I would have avoided Edinburgh during the Fringe Festival, not because it isn’t a fantastic festival, but because I don’t enjoy crowds. Edinburgh was bursting at the seams during our two nights there.
Our flight to Edinburgh from Frankfurt occurred on August 2nd. I booked us in business class, not just because I like luxury, but also because we were bringing a lot of bags. During our last visit to Scotland in 2017, Bill had a kilt custom made expressly for gala nights on Hebridean Princess. He doesn’t own a tuxedo and doesn’t particularly want to purchase one. I kept bugging him to get a kilt, even though he’s more Irish than Scottish.
On prior cruises, Bill wore his Army dress blues, but he’s now five years retired and it’s not so easy to fit into the old uniform anymore. Moreover, technically he’s not supposed to wear the uniform at non-military sponsored events, since he’s no longer on active duty. Now, that doesn’t mean he’d get “busted” on Hebridean Princess. In fact, when he’s worn the uniform, he’s mostly been well-received by the other passengers. Most of them have been from Britain and on every cruise we’ve done so far, Bill has met at least a couple of people who have served in Britain’s armed forces. Fellow Americans tend to be scarce on Hebridean cruises. The ones we have met had nothing to do with the military. Still, it was time for a change in wardrobe. The uniform serves as a great conversation piece, but it’s cumbersome and requires crash dieting.
We had to transport the kilt and all that comes with it, as well as a few nice dresses for yours truly. In business class on most airlines, passengers get a generous luggage allowance. On Lufthansa, we each got two free bags. We only checked three bags, which was way more than enough! I really need to learn to pack less!
Our flight to Edinburgh was to commence at 4:15pm. We arrived at the airport in plenty of time, although we couldn’t find any luggage carts near where Bill parked. The one machine we found was broken, so we ended up hauling the bags well into the airport before we finally found someone’s mercifully abandoned cart. My mood was rapidly turning to irritation as we searched for a place to check our bags. Although we had just flown out of Frankfurt in late June when we went to Sweden, the check in desk we’d used was moved.
Complicating matters was the fact that the check in desks were on a lower floor and there was no elevator nearby. Somehow, we managed to wrangle the bags onto the escalator without major injury. Then, instead of searching for a proper full service check in, we headed for the self-service luggage drop. That was a bad idea, and didn’t turn out to be self-service, since we ended up requiring assistance. I don’t know what we were thinking. I don’t even like using the self-service checkout at the grocery store. As we were trying to figure out how to get the luggage tags, I remarked to Bill that since we paid for business class, we should have enjoyed all of its perks… like someone who knows what they’re doing and can efficiently get our luggage sorted. Hindsight is 20/20.
Fortunately, there were a couple of Lufthansa staffers on hand to help us get our bags checked. Then, after a somewhat painless trip through security, we headed to passport control, which is always an interesting experience when you’re on “SOFA” status. For those who don’t know, SOFA stands for Status of Forces Agreement. It’s what allows Bill and me to live in Germany and not be legal residents or pay German taxes. We’ve found that the passport officials don’t always know about SOFA, particularly in countries where U.S. forces aren’t typically based.
Even in Germany, which has a long history of hosting U.S. military folks, the passport officials sometimes have to be reminded to check for the blue card. We usually only deal with passport control when we’re headed out of the Schengen zone, like when we go to Britain or the United States. Bill, of course, has dealt with them more than I have on his trips to Africa.
We cleared passport control, then headed to Lufthansa’s business class lounge. Access to the lounge is another reason I usually book business class within Europe. I don’t like crowds and, although the lounge can get crowded, it’s never as crowded as the general areas are in most airports. Lufthansa’s lounges are nice, since they offer relatively quiet places to plug in electronics, comfortable seating, clean toilets, food, and beverages. The ones at Frankfurt Airport also have showers available, which I’m sure are great for people who are on long haul flights.
At about 3:30pm, we headed for our gate, where many people were already congregated. Boarding time was 3:45pm, but it came and went. Our flight was delayed due to weather problems and a computer glitch. I was pretty impatient to get out of Germany. I do love living here, but I also love getting away for a few days. I longed to get to Scotland, where I knew I’d see and hear inappropriate things that would make me laugh. For instance, in Germany, it’s technically against the law to flip someone off, particularly in traffic. I’ve never actually done that myself, but I’ve read that people who get caught doing it can be levied heavy fines. Scotland has no such oppressive laws, as we found out soon after landing in Edinburgh.
Lufthansa’s cuisine in business class. It wasn’t bad. Bill actually liked the green sauce, which is a Frankfurt specialty.
Our flight was okay, except there was a child sitting behind me who kept kicking my seat. Her brother sat in the aisle seat and kept whining for his mom, who was sitting nearby and looked really tired. I couldn’t blame her. Her kids were at a very energetic age, which they were sharing with everyone. The drama escalated when “mama”, apparently from Italy, took her son’s tablet away, causing him to protest rather loudly. I’m glad there was wine.
Somewhere over Scotland!
Edinburgh’s airport is pretty decent, especially compared to Glasgow’s, which we experienced yesterday. When we landed, we had a super quick, painless entrance. It was fully automated and took seconds. I put my passport on a scanner, was deemed “okay”, waited to have my picture taken, then scooted straight through to baggage claim. We had no trouble finding a luggage cart, and after a brief walk to the taxi stand, were soon experiencing our first taste of Scottish hospitality. The hilarious cab driver loaded our bags in the back of his van. As he was packing us up, the cab driver behind him honked. Our cabbie straightened up, smiled pretty, and shot the bird at the guy behind him! I howled with laughter! It felt like I’d come home!
About a year ago, I wrote what has turned out to be a very popular post about the difference between Army life and contractor life in Germany. Today, I have decided to update everyone on how our first year has gone.
First off, Bill is doing really great work in his job. His employers are very happy with him and he’s managed to get a raise in his housing allowance as well as a cash bonus. He also just received a retention bonus which, as long as we stay for another year, he gets to keep. Don’t throw us in the briar patch! We still love living in Germany, so staying another year is not a problem for us. Bill has also gotten to do some interesting travel during our first year. I even got to go with him one time.
We ended up with a decent house in a nice neighborhood. Although our house is a duplex and I was originally concerned about noise (both from us and from other people), it hasn’t been a big issue. Our neighbors seem to have gotten used to our dogs and everyone is respectful. I’ve also gotten more used to driving in Germany.
Bill tells me his office still needs qualified people, but apparently there has been a problem with German authorities issuing SOFA status to contractors. We were very lucky because we got here before this became an issue. Currently, a lot of people are only able to do 90 day stints (as long as the tourist visa lasts) before they have to either go back to the States or work somewhere else where this isn’t a problem. I am told that the issue is being addressed, but there is no telling when or if it will be permanently resolved. Also, I don’t know if this issue is affecting everyone or just some people in certain jobs.
Bill has also told me that adjusting from being an Army officer with clout and decision making authority to being a contractor (aka “hired help”) has been somewhat hard at times. I often remind him that as frustrating as it is not to have any real power, it’s not his ass on the line if something goes wrong. He says it helps to remember that, though I’m pretty sure he still gets stressed out a lot.
I was a member of the local Facebook groups Stuttgart Friends and Moving to Stuttgart for most of this first year. I ultimately left both groups, but definitely recommend them for anyone planning to move to Stuttgart. They are great resources for finding out how living in Germany, especially while on SOFA status, works. You will know when it’s time to abandon the groups. Also, Stuttgart Bookoo is a great site for finding housing or used items people tend to discard on their way out of Germany like air conditioners, furniture, washers, dryers, fridges, or transformers. Toytown Germany is a good source of information for English speaking residents of Germany. It also offers a non-military/US government perspective.
Duolingo offers a good basic place to practice your German skills. I used it for about eight months, until I finished all the lessons. Then I fell off the wagon. I am thinking about restarting/reviewing Duolingo, since it has helped me understand more German. I probably should take a class and maybe I will at some point, but for now I think it’s helpful… especially for those who have trouble getting out of the house.
Panzer Kaserne is going through massive building projects right now. A new commissary is slated to open there in a couple of years and the high school is now located there. In the midst of all of this construction, there is also a road widening project going on that has been in progress since the summer. It makes getting to and leaving Panzer a bit of a pain. Since a lot of in processing is done at Panzer, I’m forewarning newcomers.
Last year, there was some hullabaloo over German authorities cracking down on expired American driver’s licenses. As you might know, if you have SOFA status, you get a special “license”. But really, what makes you legal to drive is your US license. German police were stopping Americans with expired licenses and forcing them to get them renewed (and they were not allowed to drive once they were caught). This issue has since been rectified. Still, if you think you might be in Germany for any length of time, you will want to renew your license before getting here if you can.
Worth coming back for…
This time around, I have been using Amazon.de a lot, as well as regular Amazon for shopping. The APO mail system has been really slow lately, so it often makes more sense to buy stuff locally. I still buy clothes and some other items from American Amazon, but use Amazon.de for appliances and stuff I need right away. Amazon.de is pretty great about quick delivery, though unlike in the United States, you will have to sign for all of your packages. Fortunately, Germans seem quite willing to accept packages for neighbors. I have done it for my neighbors and they have done it for me. Last time we lived here, I didn’t use local Web sites for anything!
I don’t know how long we’ll be here. At this point, we are willing to stay for as long as we’re allowed to. I can’t say I miss Texas much, even though some things about living in Germany can be a bit of a pain sometimes. But you get used to it… and really, some of the things that seem annoying at first can turn out to be blessings. For instance, not shopping on Sundays… you end up finding fun stuff to do instead.
So, that’s my update so far. We’re making it just fine.
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