Rothenberg ab der Tauber to Heidelberg, 6/14/09

So on a river trip, like on the Grand Canyon, you anticipate the trip for weeks and then suddenly there you are, on the boat, going down the river, and before you know it you are running Lava Falls and motoring out toward the last camp around 222. Same here; we've been planning this tour for a year, and now here we are on the penultimate day, for me at least. Spent a great night in our wonderful, modern, very European room, then went down to a great breakfast; the rest of the tour have to walk from their tiny old rooms in the old hotel, ha! Little victories. After breakfast, walked back to the main hotel with our bags, waiting for the bus. Doves coo'ing, cats dozing in the sun, an old guy sketching the bike that decorates the terrace. Very pleasant scene all around. Today we'll drive along the Castle Road, the burgenveg? Can't remember what it's called, but it's the road to Heidleberg that passes under numerous castles. We could have taken the autobahn and gotten there faster but Steve wanted us to see the castles, and that's great with me! Radec the driver objected, of course, since it's harder for him, but hey! This is our tour, Radec, suck it up and do your job.

So if steeples are a symbol of political power, what does that say about McDonalds, whose signs are far higher than any church steeple that we've passed in any small town?
Later, at Neckarzimmerin, a small town along the Neckar River, which is the one that runs through Heidelberg. Very pretty valley, neat homes and villages, vinyards, and a glass works, which is why we stopped. Even though it's Sunday, they opened up just for us and to make a few sales. So everyone goes into the glass works to watch the glass blower (and there's some weirdness going on; the owner of the shop and the glass artist are divorced and don't talk to each other, or something? Who knows?) I got distracted by a camping store with a big rack of kayaks and canoes outside, and lots of boats inside the store, which was unfortunately closed. It was called the Germania Faltbootwerk, or folding boat factory. Intriguing! Outside on the boat rack they were strapped down with a cam strap that had "Bavariaboote" woven into it, like NRS on some of the straps I have. How I wanted that strap! I was tempted to try to liberate it in the name of the Colorado River, but didn't want to get busted; they probably had a security camera.

So while everyone watched the glass blower and then shopped for glass trinkets (and how do you get glass home without it breaking?), I wandered behind the store to the banks of the river. A big, industrial looking river; just downstream was a big lock, and they were locking a bunch of pleasure cruisers through. That sure would be nice! It was pretty cool to see the river, at any rate.

Later, in the Heiligeistkirche in Heidelberg, waiting for an organ concert to begin. The rest of the drive was very nice, down the Neckar valley, past Unter Vier Burgen, "under four castles," where Rachel and I hiked up to a couple of them ten years ago. We came into Heidelberg from the other side of the river, which was very scenic; beautiful valley, I could definitely come back here and spend more time. Steve pointed out where he used to hang out when he was a student here; there were a bunch of students hanging out in the sun by the river, drinking beer, playing frisbees, smooching. Looked great! I love university towns. So he coached Radec through the narrow streets to an illegal drop off at a public bus stop right by the Alte Brucke, the old bridge, where the Heidelberg Monkey (actually a baboon) is found. Of course everyone had to stick their heads into the brass monkey for pictures, but I wanted to walk across the river, which we did.

We walked around a bit with Steve, then got our instructions on when and where to meet and so on, and split up. As we were walking down a little street there was a cutlery shop, so I ended up buying a camo Swiss army knife; couldn't resist. Becci found a phone and called her mom and Mariela, as she is planning to meet with them later. So after we walked around the Marktplatz a bit, we found a good doner shop and
had one at an outside table. Thence over to universitatsplatz, the University square, and looked in a bookstore and around the campus a bit; wouldn't it be great to be a student there, or have an internship or something? We saw the spot where the witches were burned back in the middle ages, and then made our way through the throngs to the Marktplatz, where we were to meet out local guide for a tour of the schloss.

L: our group in Heidelberg





R: Ruby and Brooke enjoying doner

Munich to Dachau to Rothenberg ab der Tauber, 6/13/09

So this morning we paid for the VIP fruhstuck, which was very tasty; lots of choices, meats, cheeses, fruit, great coffee. That meant we got to be seated before the Princesses and the Old Biddies, and were enjoying our nice breakfast when they came in for cold cereal and stale rolls. Such a little victory but so satisfying! It's hard to decide which group is more annoying; the snooty Princesses who assume that they are better than the rest of us--fostered by their leader, Karen--or the Old Biddies, who really shouldn't be on a student tour but booked it because it was cheaper. Actually if you get a couple of them away from the fat one, they aren't bad; but she's a real piece of work. Always complaining, always questioning Steve, the tour guide, always saying how on some other tour they did this or that better/faster/cheaper. So go on another tour, you old crow, and give us some peace!

Later, after Dachau and a surprise stop at Schliessheim. Dachau; what can one say that hasn't already been said. So much evil concentrated in such a small place. So bucolic and banal now, in a suburb surrounded by bauhauses (home improvement stores like Home Depot and so on), strip malls. It's amazing to think that how much pure evil was wrought there. Today it's sanitized for your protection; imagine the smells, the fetid air, the sounds of misery that would have been a part of daily life there. It was all so somber, so quiet; no one wanted to say anything. We all kind of split up and just wandered; at one point I looked across the yard and there were the Princesses, clustered around Karen, their leader, marching along, gathered close as if they could feel the bad vibrations in the very air. Shudder! Don't want to even think about it yet we all must, if only to realize that a) it happened, b) it wasn't the first time, and even worse, c) it could happen again.

So afterwards, on the bus, we watched a video about the Holocaust and Dachau in particular; which I'll admit I didn't really watch since I know enough about it for a lifetime, after doing that exhibit in the library for the Day of Rembrance years ago. Then we made a surprise stop at a baroque palace called Schliessheim, which was a real treat after the somber quiet of Dachau. It was Max Emmanuel's summer palace, where he lived when he made a play to be the Emperor, at which he failed and pouted about it until he died. He was one of the victors of the battle of Vienna in 1683, against the Turks, and tried to live up to that the rest of his life. Comparatively unvisited; when we were there we were the only tour, and they just turned us loose save for a couple of the usual guards in their light blue shirts. A real gem, huge rooms and long passages lined with fabulous old master's paintings, and not a rope or sign in sight;
we had the whole place to ourselves.
You could stand in front of Reubens or a Van Dyck and be alone, after the kids had moved on. The bedrooms and receiving rooms for him and the Electoress? were at opposite ends, and the front door was big enough to drive a big carriage into. We spent a good hour there, wandering the halls and admiring the huge formal gardens outside. It was a real treat and a nice way to push the stain of Dachau out of our minds.


So thence up the autobahn to the north, west of our previous route; we were making a big "U" through Germany and now were headed north. We passed Ingolstadt and Nurnberg, and made the usual stop at the roadside rest; still couldn't help but be impressed by how nice they are; if this is socialism then I'm all for it! Very crowded on the autobahn, lots of traffic, cars and minivans carrying bicycles and pulling camper trailers; must be a regular pastime. Saw people in a canoe on a little river at one point, which gave me a pang; I want to be in a canoe on a German river! Plus lots of brown signs pointing off to unseen wonders; hard to pass them all at freeway speeds and wonder if I'll ever get to see any of them. At one point on the autobahn a big truck passed us with the word "FUCKER" hugely painted on the side; the name of some shipping company but it really got the kids laughing.
Thence we turned onto an east-west autobahn, toward Heillbron, which would lead us to the smaller road that goes to Rothenberg. We heard some rumors from someone who had been on one of these trips before and stayed in this same hotel that it was pretty bare, no air conditioning and so on; he even called it a "cow shed." Who knows; at this point it's like when you are a passenger in a boat, you don't have much control so might as well just hold on.

Later, sitting in a biergarten in the middle of Rothenberg, having a Tucher bier vom fass, or draft. Very tasty, nice and shaded here in the garten; the kids and tour are out and around the town, so Becci and I veered off into this beer garden to take a break from all of that. We waited around for the clock, which was supposed to have a figure of the mayor drinking a gallon of wine, to save the city from the French or someone, but no show; the clock didn't seem to be working. Oh well. Just missed a concert in the church, which would have been nice; we've been taking advantage of those not only for the music but for the chance to sit down in a cool, quiet place. The town is really nice, we got up and walked around on top of the wall, walked by the museum of medieval torture/justice, whatever they call it. Finally all gathered back in the middle of town and here comes one of the Jesuit boys with this giant sword, it must have been five feet long. How he's going to get it into the plane on the way home is his problem; it just shows that those kids have way too much money and not enough control from their leaders.

So we walked back out of town to our bus, and the Old Biddies were bitching that we didn't stay in the middle of town; there were plenty of hotels but I bet, given what a tourist trap it is, they were very expensive. Becci, who is not one to get involved, finally looked at the fat one and said "if you wanted to stay in a more expensive place, maybe you shouldn't have booked a student tour." We got to the hotel and there was the usual rush for the front desk; the last we saw of the old biddies was them rattling a locked door, trying to sneak into the office before the rest of us. Too bad! More drama, too; the leader of the Jesuit boys complained to us about our girls, that they were flirting (duh! sexually repressed Catholic high school boys and a bunch of high school girls, ya'think?). So now all contact between them in officially verboten. As if; when there's flirting to be accomplished, kids will find a way. And besides, the chaperones, these two older women, totally ignore their boys most of the time; they sit and chat in the front of the bus, then go off on their own when we make a stop. Those kids chug Red Bull all the time, which gets them totally amped up on caffeine. So it's our girls fault that these horny boys are chasing them?

Anyway, so we got our rooms and found out that we were in the annex, down the street "nur zwie huntert meters," although when we were dragging our bags down the street it sure seemed more than two hundred meters. This is a very small town, but it's the place where all the carriages and horses that pull them for the tourists in Rothenberg stay; so there are barns, hay, horsey smells if you know what I mean and I think you do, barn kitties all over; very bucolic. We were probably put down the street because of the bitching by the Jesuit chaperone, but it turned out very well; for one thing, this is where the restaurant is; and the rooms are brand new and very nice! We got an upper room with a nice view of the street and the fields beyond, away from the barns and their odors, and it turned out the restaurant is in the annex building, so we only have to walk downstairs to dinner. So we did so, and after dinner walked around a bit but us older folks are really getting tired and soon retired back to enjoy our nice room. The kids stayed out walking up and down the main street, flirting, naturally!

hiatus interuptus

Well it's been a while since I added anything to this blog; half a year, in fact. That came about because I got busy doing other things, and then set aside my journal and then lost track of it. I looked all over my office at work, to no avail; and looked all around my office at home, to an equal lack of avail, as it were. The one place I didn't look, alas, was on the floor of my closet in my home office. We had known for some time that there was a small leak out of the downstairs shower, that was causing damp in the office closet. So today I finally did something about it; I took everything out of the closet and found that the carpet was soaked; there was mold; and a box that had been on the bottom of a stack of them just fell apart when I tried to pick it up. Fortunately, it was just old office supplies from Becci's dad: pads of paper, a stapler, letter openers, envelopes. Some of it was ruined and had to be thrown away; other stuff was OK. Less fortunately, that was where I found my journal. I had obviously put it on top of the stack of boxes in that corner, and then just as obviously it had somehow gotten knocked off onto the floor, where it got damp and moldy. I'll post a picture of it when I get the photo downloaded off my camera; it's a sad sight indeed. I was able to salvage most of it but the bottom quarter or third in some places had gotten wet and stuck together, and is just...gone. I'll be able to recreate it, I'm confident, but it will be a chore. Ah Well! I should have been a better archivist at home with my own papers and made sure something like this didn't happen.

Oh Noes! My poor neglected journal

So I'll start typing it out; I might just do it in a word processing document although Blogger doesn't like importing things from Word, it brings the code along and moofs it all up. I'll finger something out.

Munich 6/12/09

So we stayed at the Hotel Imperial in Munich for two nights; a layover, as we'd say on the river, as there was a great deal to see and do in Munich. I'd never been there; Becci only a few times, so it was new for both of us. The hotel was sort of out of town, although it was on the S-bahn line, and was nice enough, we got a good room on the 5th floor so above street noise and a great view, although who knows what we could see. After we got our bags up the old, slow, cranky, tiny elevator--one of those where you have an outer door and an inner door--we had a standard German dinner of roast pork, gravy, potatos, family style in the hotel restaurant. Thought about heading back to the city but too tired, so we decided to do our sightseeing tomorrow. We went to the internet cafe down the street to check email, but it was choked, literally, with cigarette smoke; we could barely breathe and our clothes reeked of smoke after only ten or fifteen minutes, it was that thick. Plus the German keyboards are very strange, with the Z in place of the P or something; hard to get used to. So we headed back to the room, I wrote up my notes and we crashed, listening to the kids outside in the courtyard flirting with the Jesuit boyz.

I slept like the very rocks; all this hiking around and getting regular exercise must be good for you! I last until about 10 or 10:30 and then I'm out until about 4:30, when the birds start singing. Even though I stayed up writing down notes, it was hard to get the little details down; like the oh-so-intriguing brown attraction signs on the autobahn, pointing to castles or cloisters or palaces and all sorts of other wonders unseen, like side-canyons along the river that you float by and wonder what's up them. Ah well, next trip, as we say in the Grand; got to leave something for another time.

For breakfast we didn't know that we had to order the special one to get the full meal, nor that it costs 2.5E extra; so we didn't and made due with the EF/budget one, rolls, cereal, coffee; good enough to get you going but the other one looked really good; maybe tomorrow, as it's another bus day and we won't have many stops, as we have to go all the way across the country. So today we spend the morning going to look at Mad King Ludwig 's castles (actually Ludwig II of Bavaria). In the morning, as I was sitting in the hotel bar, some of the Biddies were sitting in there and asked me if the Red Bulls boyz were mine; nope. So thence onto the bus, where the Princesses were all in a dither about having to sit in the back with the unwashed, even though they were late. "We get carsick," they whined, which is bullshit; they just think they are privileged and better than the rest of us and deserve, by their very awesomeness, to sit in the front. Tough luck, toots.

The upscale breakfast at the Hotel Imperial. Yummy!

So we headed into the mountains; for some reason I hadn't realized it would be so forested, which is kind of dumb of me; of course the foothills of major mountains are going to be forested! It was the first real relief that we'd seen in the landscape since we got here, and the Bavarian Alps are real mountains, like the Sierras or Wasatch. First stop: Linderhof. It was amazing, incredible, one of the premier sights so far. Astoundingly ornate and decorated, like a mini-Versailles, which I gather it was supposed to be. We were smart, or I should say Steve was smart, getting us there really early to beat the crowds; normally there's a long wait just to get in, but we were able to pretty much waltz in with only a minimal wait, as they only let a few people in at a time. Poor Ludwig had delusions of grandeur, he wanted to be an absolute ruler like his hero, Louis XIV, but he lived in an age of industrialization and populism and revolutions, so that absolute ruler stuff didn't cut it. The world had gone past him. The guide told us how beloved he was, but it's hard to imagine that working people didn't get upset at how much he spent on his fantasy castles, and how ineffective he was as a ruler; he let the Austrians and the Prussians push him around all the time. It was kind of pathetic, really, for however fabulous his palaces were; at Linderhof he lived by himself, he wouldn't even see his servants; there was an elaborate elevator that brought his cooked meals to him out of the floor so that he didn't have to see anyone. Lonely, paranoid, depressed, probably gay and conflicted sexually.

The girls at the fountain behind Linderhof; a mountain stream has been channeled to come down the slope; this was right outside Ludwig's bedroom. L-R Ruby, Annie, Brooke, Sarah

Oh well, he did build a pretty palace. So after the tour we got a cup of coffee and a pretzel with mustard (!) at the gift shop, bought some postcards, and moved on to Oberammergau.

The road to Oberammergau was narrow and twisy and steep; I was amazed that Radec could get the bus up it but he must be used to it. The mountains surrounding the town were big jagged ones, like the Tetons; real mountains. The town itself was all you'd expect (and I should say at this point that I finally learned how to say it: Ober-ammer-gau, or Upper -Ammer River valley- Administrative district). It's famous for the brightly painted houses, with scenes from fairy tales or bible stories painted on all the houses; and of course the Passionspiel, the Passion Play that's held once every ten years. We went into the spielhaus, only to use the bathroom; can't say I have much interest in the whole Jesus thing. But then we had some time to walk around and the town is beautiful (and has great gelato, this close to Italy; we had Italian TV the night before in our hotel in Munich). The girls were of course interested in gee-gaws, which I don't care that much for, so I got some nice postcards and enjoyed the warm day and the beautiful mountains.

Thence on the road again, down the Ammer River valley; Steve pointed out that the maypoles that were a feature of each little village were actually the yellow pages of the Middle Ages, as he put it; they had signs for each service or business for that town. Blacksmith, dairy, cobbler, all of them had their little signs on the maypole so the traveler would know what the town offered. The valley was very beautiful, made me want to float that stretch of river; and virtually every barn and house had some kind of solar panel; they are so far ahead of the US on that kind of thing. Very agricultural area, barns, cows, farm machinery; the fields are manicured, bordered by thick forest. Lots of falcons, too; some hovering like a Merlin but quite a bit bigger, and others that flew low to the ground. No idea of German birds.

We were on our way to Neuschwanstein, to see the most famous of Ludwig's castles, but made a stop first at the Vieskirche, or Meadow Church. Sometime in the 1700s, there was a little chapel there (which is still there) and a milkmaid stopped in on her way to the cow shed, and the statue of the virgin Mary was weeping or bleeding or something; of course it was hailed as a miracle so someone put up fabulous rococo church there; all whitewashed inside and out, but the decorations! Gold leaf and rich paint and utter fabulousness; again, they sure know how to do up a church. How did that place, like the one in Regensburg (which was bombed about flat during the war, because there was an Messerschmidt factory there) survive? There was a whole system of hiking and biking trails too, lots of people out strolling or riding; the former with their two hiking poles and heavy boots, the latter in full-on spandex and the latest bike wear.

Some minor drama came at this spot; the Jesuit teachers were complaining that their boyz (the Red Bull boyz) were flirting with our girls and didn't even get off the bus. So don't sit at the front of the bus and ignore them! Control your own kids your own self. Plus one of the Princesses--one of the ones who was actually nice and not a little snot--had managed to fall down at the Linderhof and bang herself up pretty good, scraped knees and swollen wrist; so I doctored her up a bit from my first aid kit, as they didn't have anything at all. They never shut up talking about themselves and how just wonderful they are; Becci tried to talk to one about sewing and got a lecture about the proper costumes for some anal re-enactment group they're in, until she finally just stopped and let the girl run off at the mouth. And when they do take a breath and you can get a word in edgeways, they are so unctuous it just gags you. Always pushing to the front of lines, sitting in the front of the bus. Very annoying.

So we got to Neuschwanstein, and I didn't really have any interest in seeing the castle; it's too modern and too much like Disneyland, and of course the Cinderella castles there are modeled on it. I only really like the places that were lived in and fought over and defended; not some weirdo guy's fantasy places, however fabulous they are. Just below us we could see the lake where he ended up a floater, some say suicide, some say the people finally got tired of his extravagance and poor leadership and drowned him. So while the Princesses, who of course had brought princess dresses just for the occasion, and some of our group dashed up the hill to get to the certain viewpoint, the rest of us chilled at Helga's cafe, where we enjoyed a beer and some schnitzel and cartoffelen, and just sat and admired the scenery and the day. So after everyone gathered back at the bus--and after some minor drama when one of the Red Bull boyz didn't show up, he was wandering around the gifts shops, oblivious--we headed back to Munich.

The bus dropped us off once again by the Stadtsoperahaus, the state opera house, and as per agreement we marched off through the narrow streets by the Hofbrauhaus to the Marienplatz, so we could watch the Glockenspiel show; as we were getting off the bus Radec closed the door and started to drive off with a bunch of people still on board; we had to bang on the side of the bus to get him to stop. So we had to hustle to catch up for Steve was already on the way, and while we'd been there the day before none of us was really sure we could find our way again. Then Sarah and a bunch of kids started to follow some other group down a different street, because they were all flirting and grab-assing and not paying attention, so I had to go round them up; but we finally all gathered in the Marienplatz by the Fish Fountain and watched the show, which was very entertaining; but in the meantime I had spotted a big bookstore (I should say that the Marienplatz is a pedestrian shopping zone, and it was packed, absolutely jammed with people, not just tourists but locals who come and hang out). There was also another fountain where people were filling water bottles, so over the objections of some, I filled mine up and drank and drank, it was such good water. So I spied the Welt Am Bucher, and went in to find a guidebook; I'd been hating not having one and kicking myself for not bringing one along. I asked in German--very proud of myself--for books in English, found just the right one, and went to pay for it with my new VISA card (I had lost the old one about a week before the trip) and the girl pointed out that I had forgotten to sign it! D'oH! She needed ID but Becci had my passport, but amazingly my Utah drivers license satisfied her did the trick, to my amazement. So we wandered around the stores, Sarah shopping for sunglasses, got some FC Bayern stickers at their store, took a final leak at the Hofbrauhaus--German toilets, especially in a place like that where there is a whole lotta peeing going on, are very efficient, as you can imagine--then started on a slow way back to our meeting place, the Karlsplatz fountain at the end of the long shopping street. On the way we stopped at two of Munich's signature churches, the twin-tower Frauenkirche, which was very bare inside albeit big and impressive outside; and the St. Michael's church which had the inevitable scaffolding outside (I swear we should invest in a scaffolding company in Europe; forget solar power!). It was very pretty inside but there was some kind of service going on, and anyway we had to get going to make our meeting. The street was amazingly crowded, I kept one hand on my wallet and one eye on the kids--the other eye for the people watching--and finally made it to the fountain:

The Karlsplatz fountain; the busiest McDonalds in Europe is in the building in the background; of course I had to go and get something, just to say I'd been in there!

There was some kind of demonstration going on, tons of people smoking cigarettes and chanting, something about Afghanistan? Who knows. So Steve appeared, as he always did, seemingly out of nowhere, and gathered us all up (minus the Princesses, of course, they were waaaay too cool to hang out with the rest of us!). So we all walked across the street to the Kaufhof, a huge department store, which had a Dinea restaurant--the same kind we went to in Berlin--on the 6th floor. The food was better than the one in Berlin, though; schnitzel and spaetzle and lots of other choices; we were hungry from all our marching so tucked in smartly. I had a really good beer and enjoyed watching the sunset over the city. We talked about more sightseeing but after that nice dinner and a beer, we all faded and met the bus for the trip back to the hotel, save for the biddies and the Princesses.

So all going along pretty well; quite a bit of drama among the teenagers in the group, but that's to be expected. Flirting, freezing some out, little cliques jelling and dissolving and reforming with different components, due in part to the stress of unfamiliar situations and places, and also to the usual teenage hormones. It all works out; some of the other adults get all overwrought about it but I've always admired Becci's take on it: if there is actual physical violence, then we'll intervene; until then, let them work it out. I'm used to this kind of group dynamics from so many river trips; sometimes the group works right away and sometimes it takes a while to jell.

Tomorrow, back on the bus, for a stop at Dachau and then on to Rothenberg-ab-de-Tauber.

Meissen to Munich, 6/11/09

Up at dawn, as we had a ways to go and lots of things to see. It gets light very early (and stays light very late) this far north, so I was up and going strong by 5AM. The hotel breakfast hadn't started so we went to a backerei down the street for coffee; always fun going to small local places and talking to people. So Radec brought the bus onto the street so we could load our suitcases, but in a few minutes here came the polezei, who said that he was blocking traffic and he had to move. I don't know why German police are so intimidating, but they are. Of course anyone with a badge and a gun is scary, but these guys, I don't know, they are just so steely-eyed. One of them was a blonde woman, not unattractive, and I was still nervous seeing her get out of the car and walk over to Radec. "Paranoia it strikes deep," as the old song goes. So anyway, of course there was traffic whizzing by, since it was the morning rush hour, and they had him move to the other side of the street; in the fullness of time we got our suitcases loaded and there we went. I hate to have a heavy and awkward suitcase but hey, I'm a big guy and my clothes and shoes and all are big. Plus I always carry too much stuff.

So we leave Meissen and are headed to Munich, but as we're leaving town Radec turns down this tiny little road, instead of following the big obvious sign that points to the Autobahn, because he's following the GPS. We've all heard tales of someone following GPS directions off a cliff or into a river, but this was the first time I'd seen it happen. Steve screams at him to ignore it, but it was too late; the road was so narrow and twisty that there was no way to turn a bus around; it would have been hard with a car. So we keep going, tree branches scraping over the roof, the bus tires going off the road into dirt, and then here comes a farm machine that takes up the whole road, coming the other way! Radec has to pull all the way off the road to let the guy by, Steve just fuming the whole time. We wander over hill and dale, past these tiny little villages; not even villages, just a farm house and some outbuildings, and eventually come to a main road that leads us to another road that comes to the Autobahn. It took over an hour and we ended up about as far from our destination was when we started in the morning. It was very picturesque, though, despite the violence to our schedule and Steve's blood pressure.

So by this point my feet were being hammered into condition; I had only some sneakers and my river shoes, but they were holding up on the cobblestones and steep paths. I felt pretty good even though I'd been eating a lot, those heavy German breakfasts and dinners, but it was all that walking; I hadn't walked that much for a long time.

It was pretty cloudy and rainy on the way south; a good day to be on the bus, although as we headed south Radec was obviously falling asleep, he kept rubbing his face and hair, so Becci and I were watching him closely; I didn't want to end up in a ditch because he drifted off the road. So we finally stopped outside Plauen for a break in one of the really well-run rest stops that are a feature of the Autobahn. These are a far cry from the sleazy, greasy, sketchy truck stops that are the usual fare on US freeways; they are modern, clean, well-laid-out, efficiently staffed, stocked with all sorts of drinks and snacks and maps (and even German porn!).


They also had the Sanifare system, which is a sort of automated entry to the toilets. You go through a turnstile (watched by the ever-present pissenfrau, or pissermann as the case may be--I don't think those are real German words, just ones I made up to describe the people who watch over the toilets), and you pays your .50E--there was always a scramble for .50E coins whenever we stopped--and you get a coupon back from the turnstile that allows you to use it on a purchase, even German porn if you were into that sort of thing.


So we all go in and relieve ourselves and buy snacks and drinks--I bought a good map of Germany, I had been hating myself for not doing that before we left; I think if you can't read a map you should stay home, forget all this GPS stuff--and I'm walking back to the bus in the rain and here comes, who else, Herb, our erstwhile leader. He comes rushing up and asks me "when are we leaving!?!" which was, well, right about now, since we've been here for half an hour. "D'oH!" he didn't say but should have, since he's such a Homer Simpson character, "I got to talking and missed the stop." Dipstick! He is so clueless I can see why his program is being dropped at the school. He still can't get that when Steve says it's time to leave or time to get on the bus or time to get up, that's the time; not half an hour later, not some other time, but then! Now! We are leaving at 9:40, not 9:freakin' 55!

Also decided to try to get along with the Princesses, despite their obnoxious arrogance, starting in the morning by saying hello to Karen, their teacher. For all their sneering at the rest of us, at least they are always on time and squared away, unlike our own leader!

Strange Czech muzak on the bus stereo; still raining but very pretty. When we were here ten years ago, you could tell the old border of East Germany by the Autobahn. On the west side it was smooth, modern, well-lit, but as soon as you crossed the old border it narrowed and was rough, had potholes, and you couldn't see at night. Now that distinction is gone, and you can't tell where the border was at all.

Steve started playing songs about the unification, speaking of; "Uber Sieben Brucken" ("over seven bridges?"); "Winds of change," and even "Deutschland uber alles." When he started talking about important songsI thought he was going to mention the "Horst Wessel Lied," But I guess that one has rather fallen out of favor these days!

Definitely a different landscape as we go on, rolling hills and lots of little lakes. Still raining though, with lightning to the east, clearing out to the west. Just learned that we'll make a stop at Regensberg, yay!

Later, leaving Regensberg. Very beautiful place, wow! We got off the bus illiegally, at a city bus stop, with all of us dashing off the bus and Radec zooming off before the polizei saw us, then walked through the little streets toward the center of the city; it had stopped raining, mostly, by this point, so the streets were just wet; there were a lot of shops, but all of them were closed, this being some Catholic holiday; Corpus Christi?).. Then we came out in the square and there was the magnificent cathedral, which was immense, you could put the Salt Lake Temple inside of it and still have plenty of room, and it's not even one of the biggest in the country. Outside the cathedral were all these birch branches laying all over the place; it had been really stormy but there weren't any birch trees to be seen, it was a public square with no trees. So someone with an internet phone looked it up and found out that birch branches have something to do with the holiday; apparently we had just missed some big Catholic procession and/or ceremony. Oh well, I was never one for ceremonies anyway. So then we all sort of split up, to get lunch or walk around town. We walked down to the river; some of the group went to a bratwurst stand that dated from 1340, apparently the oldest such in Germany, but as good as that sounded I really wanted to see the place, not stuff my face. It was very crowded, anyway. The bridge and the river were really pretty, made me want a boat! So Becci and Sarah and I walked over the bridge and back, for the view.

Becci and I at the Regensburg (or is it Regensberg?) Bridge

After a bit we all joined back up and went to see an old Romanesque chapel that was attached to the cathedral; and then to an amazingly decorated baroque Alte Kappelle; all gilt and white and incredible, they really know how to do up a church, I tell you. So by this point it was time to head back to the bus, so we start through the city, and stop at a fountain for a photo; when we all gathered up to go back to the bus, who is missing? That's right, Herb! As we were waiting for the bus here he comes, dashing down the street, saying that as he was taking a picture of the cathedral his camera battery died and as he was replacing it he didn't notice that we all left. The Princesses had already taken off, since their leader had been a student there for a year; good riddance anyway. As we were walking back I saw a doorway that was scattered with rose petals, so I stopped to look at the plaque by the door; it said (as much as I could decipher, anyway), that this was a private chapel dating from 1200 or so. Whew! The age of these places is amazing; apparently Regensburg was a Roman city, and somewhere in town there are Roman ruins, which we didn't get to see.

So we finally get all back at the bus stop, whistling and rocking back and forth on our heels, trying not to look like what we were doing was totally illegal ("what, me, officer?"); so while we were waiting a couple of our kids spot a McD's across the street and dash across for fries and burgers, since we hadn't had anything to eat; caused a minor problem with the others who wouldn't take the initiative and go do it, even though we said Go, Go, the bus won't leave without you; even Steve said for them to go. But they would rather whine instead. I wanted to say you knew everything would be closed, so don't make your lack of planning into my problem; but I kept my counsel to myself and my mouth shut.

So after we all finally got back on the bus we heard one of the Jesuit teachers complaining that our kids were noisy! As if! Her little angels suck down Red Bull drinks like they were water and then act like apes. Figures, though.

So Steve is getting us ready for Munich by playing "oompah" music, but then he asked us to guess what the most popular song in the beer gardens was, the one all the beefy Bavarian buergers link arms and sing when they are sloshed. Guess? You would never guess this in a million years, "Country Roads" by John Denver. That was outta the blue, I never would have thought that; I can just imagine them all belting out the chorus in between trips to the pissoir.

So in the fullness of time we got Munich; before we went to our hotel we were doing a drive-around tour, which unfortunately always act like chloroform on me; I really do want to listen to the tour guide but there is just something about the droning in a slow-moving bus that's soporific. The tour guide, John, was an English expat who had come to Munich to work on the 1972 Olympics and never left. He was oh-so-knowledgeable, droll, and quite funny, as he took us around the Ring, the Nymphenberg Palace,



and all around the city. We dropped him at the Stadsoperahaus, the State Opera House, which is where the bus tour ended and the walking tour began. Steve marched us around a bit on the way to the main square, the Marienplatz, so that we could see where we were to meet the next day, and on the way walked through the Hofbrauhaus, the big old beer hall in the middle of the city, to look at the stein lockers. On the way Becci took a picture of some dozing old drunk in lederhosen and got yelled at for being a paparazzi! That was pretty funny. At the Marienplatz, which was just jammed with people, we split up. Our group, me, Becci, Sarah, Brooke, and Ruby all went back to the Hofbrauhaus for souvenirs and beer for me; I mean how can one go to Munich and the Hofbrauhaus and not drink at least one beer, come on! Plus the Hard Rock Cafe was across the little street and the girls wanted souvenirs from there (for some teenage reason). So we did so, found a table and ordered a big pretzel and a Radlerbier, a beer mixed with lemonade, which we all enjoyed immensely; I wish I could have sampled a few more! But we had to get back to the Marienplatz to meet the bus, so we tore ourselves away, and caught the bus to the Hotel Imperial, our home for a couple of days in Munich.

Dresden to Meissen, 6/10/09

[an aside (and I loves me some asides!) : now writing quite a bit later, so it will take me a bit to get back up to speed on this blog; likewise, though, there is less chance of anyone on the trip reading it, so I can say what I want!]

As we were leaving Dresden we moved through the old city by way of little streets; it's amazing how Radec, the Czech bus driver, can get the huge tour bus through these tiny alleys. Parts of the city were really hammered and neglected, parts were beautifully restored. Typical (former) East Germany. Once we got out of the city, and it seemed to take forever, it was a beautiful drive along the river, past many vineyards and big old villas up on the steep hills.

So the stop this night was in Meissen, that's right, the same place as the famous porcelain comes from. It's right on the Elbe and very beautiful. Since the Elbe flows north, we are on the left bank (river left, natch!) and on the other bank is a huge old castle and the old city. The Hotel Ross was a very nice small family hotel, nice rooms and a restaurant. There was some confusion at the check-in because the office is tiny and there are a couple of different buildings, and we always want to make sure some of the adults are in the same building as the kids, so they don't go ape and rouse the town; but that got straightened out and we had a very nice room. Even though it's a noisy group of American kids, I'm sure this much business was something the owner was glad to have.

After a yummy dinner of bratwurst and beer (for me, anyway!) we left the restaurant and set off to see something of the city of Meissen. We hadn't really realized that there was an altstadt or Old City--even though of course there would be, duh!--and even less that there was a very impressive schloss and a cathedral overlooking the river. As we walked along and came around a curve, there was the huge castle and Dom, or cathedral, in the sunset, looking very picturesque. We had to cross a bridge to get over to the old part of the city, and as we are crossing here come a couple of Mormon missionaries. You can tell them from a mile (or should I say a kilometer) away, with their dark suits and little name tags, so the girls saw them and yelled, and amazingly enough it turned out they were from Salt Lake City. So naturally everyone got all excited and talked at once and called their parents (because the missionaries aren't supposed to do that), but I was thinking hey, I can see Mormon missionaries anytime, I'm here to see this city. So after a minute or two we (Becci and I) just kept walking. The rest eventually tore themselves away from the two boys and caught up with us as we got into the old city. It was all you could expect, tiny cobblestone streets, pretty little squares, little shops and cafes, very nice. The only thing open that late was the ubiquitous gelato shop, so we all got an ice cream and kept walking. There were some houses that had a roof with windows that looked exactly like eyes; don't know if they were going for that effect or what, but it was kind of eerie. At this point we ran into one of the Biddies, who said that she was "uncomfortable" with the city, as some drunks had approached her and put the moves on her! They must have been pretty drunk, I'm just sayin'. So she and the other biddy were on their way back to the hotel; their loss.

The Meissen Cathedral at sunset

So I was all for just schstrollink around and going back to the hotel, as it was getting dark, but Becci took the bit in her teeth and declared that no, we were going to climb all the way up the hill to look at the Dom and the Schloss. Allrighty then! Both were on a towering height overlooking the river and the city, just as you would suppose they would be; as it turned out this was the seat of the Wettin dynasty until they moved to Dresden, so it was a pretty important place. So we hiked up the cobblestone streets until we came to some steps that led up and up and up, so we followed them (despite a sign that said they were closed. They led up past houses perched on the hillside; we saw a girl sweeping out a wine bar and asked her where they led, and she pointed up the hill, probably thinking "stupid tourists!" Finally we arrived at the top and there was the old residence and the cathedral, draped in the inevitable scaffolding, and both, of course, closed. But they were still very impressive and the view from there, in the gathering gloom (and what write doesn't long to use expressions like that, eh?) was spectacular; the dark river, the lights of the old city, the hills. Too bad we didn't have time to stay there for longer. From there we took a different route back down to the old city, ending up in the Markdtplatz, or market square, where there was a church, the Frauenkirche, that dated from 1205. Even as late as it was, there seemed to be a concert going on--the doors were locked but we could see lights and even better, hear someone singing, rather incongruously, "Amazing Grace." Incongruous or not, it was very beautiful, even magical, to be standing in that ancient square and hearing those beautiful tones. Thence back to the hotel for a literal wake-up: no hot water.

Berlin to Meissen, 6/9/09

Sarah and I overlooking the Elbe River at Dresden

Morning, on the bus, waiting to go. Poor Steve has already been chewed out by the leader of the Biddies because the kids on the bus are too loud; so don't go on a school group, duh! Also, learning that the Colorado girls, hereinafter the Princesses, seem to think that they are somehow privileged, by virtue of their sheer awesomeness. Last night they hogged the one computer in the hotel lobby, so Becci, who was trying to send a message to Rachel, couldn't use it; they were checking their MySpace accounts or something.

Now waiting for latecomers; Steve told us up front that being late would not be tolerated. He said that if you are five minutes late you must sing and dance for the group, and if you are ten minutes late you will sing and dance at the empty spot where the bus used to be. It's a personal tic of mine that there is no excuse, short of a heart attack or car wreck or meteor falling from the sky, for being late. If you are habitually late then start 10 minutes earlier. It's nothing but being rude, figuring that whatever it is you do is more important than the people waiting for you. Just like on the river, you get up, get your gear packed, and get to the *&%$# boat! No such thing as Mormon standard time.

Later, on the autobahn, heading south. Had some comments by Steve and are now watching a documentary on the bus TV on the Wall. I'm already starting to dislike the Princesses intensely and it's only the first day. They always have to have the front seats, they are all so perfect, they all speak German so perfectly, their teacher is, well, perfect. Where we've been to two places, they've been to five. Yesterday they blew off the rest of the group tour because they had a whole list of things to do that were obviously cooler than whatever it was we were doing. I just hate pretentious people like that. It's the same with Herb, for exactly the opposite reason: always late, always confused, always a schlub!

Very green, very forested, very flat. I know this is the great Central European plain but flat country is always a surprise to me, having lived with relief all my life. Lots and lots of wind generators, and the autobahn very well kept up. As we go south, though, the land is gradually changing, with rolling hills starting to appear. We stopped at Moritzburg, a hunting chalet on a lake, built by the Wettin Dynasty, who ruled all of Saxony back in the day. It was beautiful; we only stopped for a few minutes, but it was nice to get off the bus and stretch our legs. This was the first of what Steve has called "lagniappes," which is a Cajun word meaning "just a little extra."

Moritzburg palace

Now in Neumarkdt in Dresden, right outside the Frauenkirche. Pretty amazing how all of this has been rebuilt from rubble; it says something about how much these people value their culture and history. In the US it would have been paved over for a WalMart. Got here and picked up Anka, our local guide, who is a grad student at the University here. We did a brief driving tour in the bus, during which I had a terrible time trying to stay awake. Then we did a quick power walk around the Zwinger, which is the old Wettin dynasty pleasure palace, and back over to here. I was thinking meh!, it's all new, not the real old buildings, but then it also struck me that we were seeing it like the people of the 16th century would have seen it, brand new and just built. Becci is chatting with some old couple about biking along the Elbe here; apparently they bike all over the country and just came back from a motorhome tour of the SW US, including Utah. Small world. The river is low but it's always a pleasure to see a river. One thing I'm continually amazed by is the amount of hand labor it takes to build these squares and plazas. They are made of what must be millions of little rocks, all shaped and placed by hand. I was a bit bummed that Anka charged off, us in tow, before we had a chance to hear the famed porcelain bells in the Zwinger tower. Have to come back and try to wait it out; I guess they go on the half hour.

Later, at a cafe overlooking the Elbe. Just out of the Green Vault, the treasure room of the Wetting dynasty, August the Strong specifically. Wow! Just amazing! Steve got us tickets to this instead of the hall of paintings or whatever it's called; you can always see old paintings but this stuff was astounding. Naturally the Princesses and the Old Biddies pushed their way to the front of the line for the tickets, so I pushed right after and past them. Jerks! But still, this incredible treasure room with gold, ivory, gems, coral, porcelain; on and on, it's just amazing. Words really do fail to describe the things we saw in there. Little statues, jewelry, figurines; it's really hard to describe. We also walked through the Frauenkirche, which was really impressive; again, it looked like it must have looked right after it was built, save that on the inside they had the old golden cross that had been on top of it that terrible night in 1945; it was all twisted and scorched, a reminder. Also walked along the porcelain march of the kings or whatever it's called, a long panel made of porcelain that shows the whole Wettin dynasty. After that we were ready for a break, so we split from the group, just Becci and Sarah and myself; the others wanted to shop and climb the tower (8 euros!) and we didn't want to do that. We found this very nice riverside cafe, with a view of the river, and I had a Raderberger Pilsner, plus for a snack we had some original Saxon (this being Saxony, after all) cartofflensuppe. Yummy!

The porcelain March of the Wettins

Later, back at the Zwinger, waiting for the porcelain bells. We're supposed to meet up with everyone on the other side of the square, at the huge statue of August the Strong, in about half an hour, but I really wanted to hear these danged! bells. Had to go really bad so I dashed to the WC, and thought I was going to get away for free, but just as I came out here came the pisfrau and I had to fork over my .40 euros. What a job, standing around waiting while people pee and take dumps, then cleaning up after them.

Later again, back at the statue; not August the Strong but Johann, whom I think is his son; who knows, he's one of those Wettin guys. The bells were very pretty if very brief; a few dings and dongs and that was it. I was expecting some carillion playing a tune, but oh well, they are probably pretty delicate. Thence out through the other gate on the other side of the square, just for a look-see, and took a quick look at the huge porcelain collection in one of the wings of the Zwinger. Didn't get to see the whole arms and armor collection, too bad. On the way back across the square to the rendezvous at the statue, we could see Garrett, one of our kids, doing a dance on the statue; too much energy! Tried to get into the Stadtsoperahaus, which is supposed to be fabulous inside, but it was closed for rehearsals of "The Marriage of Figaro." Wouldn't that be cool, to hear that inside there.