Yes, that is exactly what you think it is. That is one of the many ovens at Dachau concentration camp, where I spent two hours walking around, taking pictures and being lost in a world of horrible thoughts. Dachau is only a few miles from Munich. People must have seen the smoke rising from the chimneys. All the reading and studying of history in the world does not prepare you for being face to face with such a place. There were flowers laid solemnly in each of the ovens. I have no words to describe how I felt when I walked into the first crematorium and saw this sight.

But hey, the trip wasn’t all genocide and mass murder and starvation and cruelty, so let’s move on, shall we.

Our last stop on the Ambassadors  of Music tour was the Medieval German town of Rothenburg. It might be, perhaps, the most beautiful old, walled town in all of Europe…

Here is the band giving their concert in the town square. I guess I could point out now that I do not like to travel like an ordinary tourist. In cities, I tend to seek out the bad places in the bad parts of town, because I like to see if I could survive there. On the other hand, I prefer small towns to big cities, because the people are more friendly, and have more patience. I also think that you do not know a country of a region until you have walked out into the woods.

When I travel, I get up early and go for long walks. I like the empty streets and the sunrises. I have maybe a hundred pictures of Rothenburg, of flowers growing in people’s gardens and the old stone wall that surrounded the place. And of things that just caught my eye. The thing about my early morning walks is that sometimes, things just come together…

You can’t buy this kind of magical moment. You just have to hunt it down.

One other part of the town that I loved was a medieval tavern called Zur Hoel… which means Hell. The joke in town, and this joke is hundreds of years old, is that Rothenburg is the only place you can tell people to go to hell, and it’s a good thing. This tavern was built around the year 900, and is one of the oldest buildings in the little city. I hung out there with Jessica and some of her friends, drank some good German beer, and told the kids some of the stories of my wild youth. It was a fantastic night…

Notice the red eyes, which is sort of what you would expect from a bunch of imps in Hell…

Jessica had some cool… geeky/cool… friends from her high school on this trip with us. I wont mention any names, but you see the guy in the white t-shirt beside her? I had fun on the bus messing with him. When we were crossing the border from France into Switzerland, I happened to notice a border guard leading a German Sheppard dog on a leash towards our bus. I started to act really  nervous and fidget in my seat. I mumbled something like, “Oh, man, I didn’t know there were going to be dogs.” Jessica’s friend asked me what was wrong. “Nothing,” I muttered, “it might not be a drug sniffing dog. Maybe it is just a security dog.” Of course he thought I was kidding. They all knew how much I liked to kid. But I said to him, in a very serious voice, “Do you think you could fit through that window?”  I pointed at the closest window on the bus.

He looked at me in satisfying confusion. “Hey,” I said reasonably, “You don’t think I would be stupid enough to carry drugs in my own suitcase, do you?”

He waited for me to start laughing. Instead, I reached past him and slid the window farther open. “Oh, you should be able to fit through here,” I reassured him, even as I pretended to size him up.

The dog was getting close to the side of the bus.

I proceeded to act really nervous at this point. He was starting to freak out just a little.

“If you run back into France,” I told him helpfully, “they shouldn’t be able to follow you.”

I strung this joke out all the way until the border guard handed the paperwork and passports back to our bus driver. Oh, man, I kill myself, I really do.

We spent a lot of time on that bus, and I started to go a little stir crazy…

Even Jessica was not immune to this condition, and we did what we could to stay sane…

Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto. I miss that inflatable neck cushion. We had some good times together.

If you want to see more pictures of Rothenburg, I would not be too disappointed. Or Venice, Switzerland, Paris… even Dachau, if you must. I had fun looking through them again. And I suppose there are a few more funny stories there.

And I have already decided to do a cleaned up version of my first trip to Europe, when I was 23, handsome as all get out, cocky, single and unafraid. With pictures. At least some pictures. But not all of them. Oh, no.