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.