The Worst So there we were, standing in a crowd on the wrong train with forty pounds of bags strapped to our backs. In between train cars, the ground was constantly shifting, making it hard to stand. We had no idea how long it would be until we could sit. Nobody spoke the language, everyone was angry, and we were right next to the restroom. This marked the beginning of our stay in Munich. Our train ride was supposed to be easy- Paris to Mannheim to Munich. One stop. No problem. Leaving Paris was surprisingly simple. Nobody checked our passports or luggage. We simply showed up at the train station, and waited to board. After the train left, a man came by to check our tickets. "Zis train is not running" he explained in an odd half French half German accent. "Sehr ist a strike in Germany." This is when we started to worry. But the man promissed there would be an announcement with more information soon. The announcement came. In French, then in German, then in poo...