Munich’s skyline is one of the world’s most breathtaking. We climbed hundreds of steps to get a bird’s eye view of Marienplatz.

Kate and Keren stand with Birte Japs, center, the medical student who inspired them to visit Germany.

My friend Kate and I were laughing and chatting in a Cincinnati Starbucks last winter when Kate noticed a girl sighing over her latte.

Within moments, Birte Japs, a medical student from Germany, had joined us at our table and was flashing her beautiful smile as she explained – in excellent British English – some of the cultural barriers she was facing, not the least of which were our “weak” American bread and non-existent public transportation.

We ended up spending the day together, and I invited her and her brother, Felix, to spend a weekend with my family in Lexington. After enjoying the best of the Bluegrass, they hugged us goodbye, and Felix joked, “We’ll return the favor in Germany.”

Kate and I bought plane tickets for Christmas Day.

First impressions

In the 2008 action thriller “Taken,” Liam Neeson plays a father who tracks down his daughter and her friend after they are abducted during a trip to Europe and sold as sex slaves.

Our fathers referenced the film before we left, but that was the farthest thing from my mind when we landed in Deutschland.

(In “Taken,” the girls meet a man by the taxis at the airport who ends up being the trigger man for their abduction.)

When our ride didn’t show up, I looked for someone out by the taxis with a cell phone.

Across the street, a rakish young man reclined against his sleek European car as he smoked a cigarette and talked on his cell phone. Perfect.

He obliged my request, and while I was on the phone, he posed a few friendly questions to Kate. Where were we from? Where were we going? Where were we staying? Did we like Turkish men?

After I got off the phone, he used it to call his boys and tell them to come over quickly before his new American friends decided to leave.

“We’ll be on our way, thank you.”

Our getaway was facilitated by the fact that an older gentleman had forgotten how to parallel park and decided to go ahead and hit our Turkish friend’s car.

As we left with our ride (Felix’s girlfriend, Marijke, a sweet blonde who apologized profusely for being late), more Turkish men had arrived and were yelling and flailing their arms in greeting.

Kate smiled. 

“I just felt like we were in a scene from ‘Taken.’”

In defense of the young men, I’ll say that they were a perfect first impression of German people – friendly, helpful, good senses of humor, and only offended when you ask whether they speak English. 

The answer is always, “Of course!”

Würzburg

If the Japs family is representative of Germany, then Kentucky may have a rival for Southern hospitality.

After Christmas cookies (I don’t know what you’ve heard about German food, but in my experience, I suggest we try to get a few more German restaurants in Frankfort) and tea, they swept us to downtown Würzburg, a small historic town in northern Bavaria.

In the dark, we climbed to Marienberg Fortress, a famous castle overlooking the city.

Then we hurried home, where their father, Dieter, lit the real candles on the Christmas tree before serving a three-course meal of smoked salmon, veal and Tiramisu.

That night, we learned two important expressions. “Prost!” – the German word for toast, which must be said with glass raised high before every meal, and “mega cool,” which Germans say in all sincerity with a straight face.

Daylight brought us to the Residenz of Würzburg, the finest baroque castle built in the region. The most formidable thing inside the 300-room masterpiece was our tour guide.

The 40-year-old had a square jaw with a deep dimple in his chin, a deep, gruff voice, and blonde hair with bangs he tossed back when they flipped into his blue eyes. Tourists who misbehaved were quickly chastised.

“We love this guy!” I told Birte and Felix, even after the guide declined a photo with smiling American tourists Kate and Keren.

They couldn’t figure out why we were so taken with the guide, labeling him as rude and “not a typical German.”

What made him even more enjoyable was the fact that he, like many Germans, does not differentiate between the letters w and v.

So, when he boomed, “Welcome, wisitors, I’m wery glad you’re with us today,” I enjoyed watching Kate struggle to suppress her laughter.

It reminded us of when Felix asked for a “weggie plate” at dinner in Lexington. Explaining our laughter made us appear even more juvenile. Apparently, they don’t give many wedgies in Germany.

At the center of the Residenz is a staircase, and the ceiling above is decorated with one of the largest frescos in Europe, which represents the four corners of the world.

Our part of the world is illustrated by Lady America, a bare-chested woman riding an alligator, surrounded by revelers, which fits the European conception of America as “a bit untamed.”

Munich

We had one day – less than that really – to see all of Munich, so it’s a good thing we had adventurous Moritz Lembeck to lead the way.

Moritz, who works for a sports PR firm in Munich, started the tour at the center of Munich life, Viktualienmarkt, a sprawling food market packed with goods from the Bavarian countryside.

Moritz and Felix had suggested a breakfast of Weisswurst (white sausage) served with pretzels and beer. After the sausages arrived in a bowl of hot water, Moritz demonstrated how to suck the meat out of its casing. Felix was surprised when Kate and I declared the breakfast as “delicious.” We were completely unaware of its contents – calf’s head, veal and seasoning. Kate still doesn’t know what she ate.

From breakfast, we climbed to the top of a church to get a view of Munich’s iconic skyline.

We then walked the whole of downtown, only stopping to go inside the Munich Residenz, the largest city palace in Germany.

Even the Vatican, in my opinion, cannot compare with the overabundance of decoration inside the Residenz. As we wandered through The Hall of Antiquities, Ancestral Gallery and the Ornate Rooms, I marveled at their opulence. We decided to cut the tour short – an American can only see so many marble busts and gold covered frescos – and ordered a round of lattes at a nearby café.

Which reminds me, if I’m going to label one thing in Germany as “mega cool,” it’s the cafés, which have concocted an ambiance that beckons patrons to stay and sit a while. In fact, Kate tells me she overheard a barista making fun of my “Americanism” when I asked for a cup “to go.”

After nightfall, we sampled Munich shopping, museums, gardens and, of course, ran inside the Hofbräuhaus. I had imagined the world’s most famous beer hall would be rowdy and dirty, but it was clean and calm – even the bathrooms.

By that time, Kate and I were ready to try Wiener Schnitzel, a traditional dish the boys had been talking up all day. When I sat down to the thin slice of veal coated in breadcrumbs and fried, I marveled at what I was adding to my list of delicious.

We rounded off the night with a few games of foosball, during which I busted Moritz’s chin with one of my offensive players. I had suggested we move the ball around the field by blowing on it, and Moritz happened to get a little too close. What can I say? Americans are rough. We ride alligators.

Berlin

From Munich, we grabbed a flight to Berlin – a city so spectacular that in three days, we merely scratched the surface. I could only see traces of the East-West divide, and for the most part, it seemed like a modern, vibrant city with a burgeoning artists community.

A steady snowfall made the city seem serene even as it was filled with tourists – mostly German natives.

Again, we were never at a loss for friendly guides to point us in the right direction. With a hotel by Checkpoint Charlie (the most well-known Berlin Wall crossing point between East Germany and West Germany during the Cold War), we never got lost. 

In fact, we helped a few Germans find their way. I think I let it go to my head though, because late one night, I saw a man emerge from the subway with a suitcase. He stood there, fumbling with a map, looking around.

“Should we try to help him?” I asked Kate.

“Of course.”

“Excuse me, sir, do you need help? Are you lost?”

“Oh no, I live right up there,” he said pointing to an apartment nearby.

“Do you live here?” he asked.

Kate and I started laughing.

“No, we’re from Kentucky.”

He raised his eyebrows then headed in the direction of his home, laughing as he went.

Berlin is so large, in fact, that it has more than one airport – a reality we overlooked until it was too late to miss our flight. The high-speed $100 taxi drive through Berlin on New Year’s Eve was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, though, and the train we caught to Stuttgart gave us six hours to think about how much money we had wasted. Kate and I promised one another that in the future, we will listen to our fathers and arrive early for flights, even if it means giving up a few hours in one of the greatest cities in the world.

Stuttgart

Celebrating New Year’s Eve on an empty train was no big deal once we arrived in Stuttgart, where a party at Felix and Marijke’s flat was in full swing.

Felix apologized for all the meat we had endured in Munich, and showed us to a table full of healthy dishes. Even at 2 a.m., Marijke’s “weggie” quiche was excellent.

New Year’s was our final full day in Germany, so we decided to spend it in Stuttgart, where the State Gallery swallowed up most of our time.

An equally exciting evening was in store when we all put on our “sleeping clothes” – everyday clothes to us Americans - and watched “There will be Blood.” Their excitement to get into comfortable clothes provided Kate and I several hours of conversation about the difference between American and German style. We determined that women dress relatively the same, while German men are much more put together and stylish, which allowed us to conclude once again that we agree with the Würzburg fresco. Americans are still “a bit untamed.”

Before leaving for the airport, we thanked our German friends and made that familiar promise, “We’ll return the favor in Kentucky.”