A Saturday Handball Adventure

The morning after the high school dance I attended with my new German friends, I headed over to the house where we’d had the pre-party to pick up a few things I’d left behind. Just as I was about to leave on my bike, my friend asked if I wanted to ride to a nearby town later that day to watch her friend play in a handball game. With no Saturday plans and having never seen a handball match before, I thought, why not? 

We set off, pedaling through hilly countryside, and after about 30 minutes, my friend checked Google Maps. "Fifty more minutes?!" We groaned. It was clear we were moving much slower than Google’s optimistic prediction. 

Nearly two hours later—after climbing over what felt like two mountains and biking through half of Germany’s countryside—we finally arrived at the stadium, sweaty and out of breath, but also enjoying the stunning views we’d passed along the way. The only available seats were right in front of a woman pounding away on a massive drum, something apparently common at handball matches but completely unexpected for me. At halftime, we fueled up on warm pretzels and water, preparing ourselves mentally for the ride back. 

When the final whistle blew and the crowd began to file out, my friend and I exchanged a look of dread. We both knew what was waiting for us: the brutal, half-mile downhill stretch that had been challenging enough on the way there, let alone on the way back. 

"I'm not doing it," my friend announced flatly. I blinked in confusion, wondering what the alternative could be. She pulled out the Deutsche Bahn app, showing me a train schedule for one leaving in 40 minutes. "This was an option the whole time?" I asked, laughing. We both burst out laughing in front of the stadium, giddy at the thought of avoiding that grueling ride home. 

Being American, I’m not exactly well-versed in public transportation, but even my German friend seemed a little daunted by the logistics of our return trip. First, we biked to a nearby bus stop, where thankfully the driver allowed us to bring our bikes on board for the 20-minute ride to Minden. When we arrived in Minden, my friend gave me a quick tour of the city (which was beautiful!) before we reached the Hauptbahnhof. We grabbed some vending machine candy to hold us over—it was nearly six by this point—and hopped on a train to Bad Oeynhausen. After arriving, we hopped back on to our bikes to ride the last few miles back to each of our houses.

It was an adventure from start to finish, but I’ve learned one thing: when it comes to time predictions for biking through Germany's rolling hills, I will never trust Google Maps again!