Tourist Log: I’ve successfully reached the objective platform 4.
My next train has not.
It’s unclear if the announcement I could halfway decipher was one I needed.
It’s okay, I’m prepared.
Hailing all Frequencies.

An important bit of tourist wisdom taken from Science Fiction

Part one of The tourist’s guide to packing for intergalactic rail travel, defines the touristlook and why it can make a difference stepping off the platform and into an adventure.

Tourists Log: FIFA’s dynamic pricing data remains unstable. Navigation systems engaged. Estimated reroute: coordinates point to a football stadium in Bavaria. Local conditions: raining beer, castles optimal, and new intel acquired on how to score Bundesliga tickets.

Tourist Log: Rumor has it there’s a ruin perched above a bakery, somewhere in the Tyrolean Alps. Today I’m departing Munich to verify this report. Also, something funny is happening at Wörgl Station.

Train transfers are inevitable. Here’s how I navigate them to minimize panic and maximize snacks.

Our introduction to winter rail travel began before our flight had departed Phoenix. Tourists confession: I fell a little in love with January rail travel when I nearly face planted on the iced road in Amsterdam.

When the match schedule reads January an expedition is born.

Finally meeting my Fondue. Fondue after a rainy day in Switzerland belongs on every Swiss itinerary. Especially if it’s served with a view of the alps and Swiss wine.

Two towns in Bavaria with more highlights than there are hours in the day. This tourist’s suggestion is stay in Garmisch or Partenkirchen, just for a bit.

Every rail Expeditions begins by boarding that first train. Here’s how it goes coming out of Munich Airport.

With World Cup tickets looming, I tried to calculate the incalculable. How does a match in the USA compare to one in Europe? From Vamos Colombia! to Mia San Mia in Munich.
Here’s how it felt to be in the stands at the Copa América and the Bundesliga.

Our morning on the Inn, a town where each train arrives to cake, castle ruins, and whispers of ghosts.

We arrived in Freiburg one Sunday afternoon, and the sound of laughter led us somewhere unexpected, yet exactly right.