Münster!

So. The Münster. It’s 209 steps up to the clock room, then another 29 to the bells if I remember correctly, and something like 44 to the observation deck. We did the bells first.

There are 18 bells in the Münster, and 16 of those are in the bell tower (the other two are scattered throughout the other spires). The total weight is well north of 50,000 lbs, and most of it is right there. To say this room is reinforced would be a massive understatement. It’s joisted up every two feet by massive, two-foot-thick timbers, and the larger bells are so huge that both Amy and I could curl up under them and still have room for the clapper.

We dodged the 12:00 noon bell chorus (where they all just ring like nuts), but did stick around for the 1:00 ringing. That’s four small chimes of two bells each, and a single chime of a medium sized bell. For chiming the hours, they don’t actually swing the bells, they just drop a small hammer on the edge.

Mind you, a “small hammer” has a solid steel head the size of a cinder block. It was quite loud in such an enclosed space. I remember the noon chorus (where they just chime all the bells like nuts) from when I was a kid, and the air vibrated so much it was hard to breath.

Anyhow, these bells are pretty cool. Also, old. All the bells have names, and Hosanna was cast in 1258 AD. She weighs 3,290 kilos, alone. They’re greenish gray behemoths, like slumbering elephants hanging off massive timber crossbraces. Really remarkable.

Then we climbed back down to the clock, and took the Wendeltreppe (spiral staircase) to the observation deck. Coming up the 209 steps was also a spiral staircase, but not like this. This thing was so steep you had to keep to the outside to get enough step to stand on, and the whole thing was only about four and a half feet in diameter- six inches of which was the center pole. Steep as hell, and with windows cut through to the outside to make sure you really saw the height. Neither of us are huge fans of being that high up, but we did make it, and sat in the center of the platform, clinging on for dear life and gasping for breath.

Cathedral spires don’t move of course, and there were high, temporary wire fences around the edge, as well as a cover for the platform itself, so it was completely safe, but it sure didn’t feel that way. The observation platform is 66 meters high- from two thirds of a football field up, the people at the marketplace below looked smaller grains of rice. Short grain rice.

The Münster is under renovations at the moment, so parts of the platform were taken up by construction scaffolding and blocked off with plywood, but that actually drew attention to the differences between the old and the new. After close to a millennia, the Münster is badly weathered and discolored, but the new sandstone pieces really shine. It’s a red sandstone, so it stands out bright pink against the dark gray and smeared black of the old pieces. And there’s the graffiti. Besides the standard “Christ we’re still here- Franz und Anika 16.12.11” written on the temporary wooden structures, there’s also names like “Ioseph” and dates like “1560” etched into the stone. It’s pretty impressive.

 

This is a door in the Altes Rathaus (old city hall). The ironwork was impressive. Freiburg, in general, has loads of neat ironwork. Most of it is post-war restoration, but it's gorgeous nonetheless. Freiburg.

 

The Münster, in addition to being a cathedral, was also the city lookout. The cylinders are leather fire buckets (if the top of the tower catches fire, the over 25,600 kilos of bells come crashing down). They're so narrow because the stairs up are narrow. The lantern is a signal lantern, so the watchers on the tower can communicate with the people in the street below, and the trumpet is a huge megaphone. It's over six feet long. The lantern ain't small either. Freiburg.

 

Some of the graffiti was quite old. The date on the bottom left is half in shadows, but it's 1560. A lot of the etchings we found were in old scripts (see the HI to the right of center), incorrect (H.S. just above 1560), arms and symbols (AW and WC top left), strange spellings and Latin (Gallea, bottom). This example is from a window in the clock room. Freiburg.

 

The view from the observation deck toward the Schwabentor with the Blackforest lost in the mist in the background. The columns to the left and right are less than a foot in diameter, and a good 20 feet tall before they arch together into a series of delicate Gothic arches. Freiburg.

 

You can clearly see the renovations in progress. The icon (statue) and the window are old, the roof over the icon is new. For scale: the roof is maybe 4 feet tall, and the large window probably about 18. Still, at 4 feet, that little roof has an impressive amount of detail for sandstone. That was the case throughout, right up to the roof- there were pieces up there only a master sculptor could have created, and nobody would have seen them without climbing all the way up there. Quite a bit of it was barely visible from the observation deck (high up in other spires, etc), but judging from what the rest of it looked like, equally delicate. Very impressive. Freiburg.

 

 And finally, this lovely ...thing. The sign says "children's and idiot's hands besmear walls and benches"- an exhortation against graffiti. Clearly, highly effective.

Then we climbed back down, did some last shopping for souvenirs and gifts to bring back home, ate lunch, and headed back to the apartment. We’d packed this morning, so we relaxed for a little while and then met my uncle to give the key back and head to the train.

We ended up getting on an earlier train, which was slightly more expensive, but we paid the difference and enjoyed the fact that we didn’t have a transfer anymore. We got to Frankfurt, and checked into the same hotel we were in when we first came in. I was ready to crash, but Amy dragged me back out for a walk, and I’m glad we did.

This time, we went to check out the old town of Frankfurt. We found some neat graffiti, the cathedral and roman baths. More next time.

Auf Wiedersehen, Freiburg!

The last entry I wrote, I think, was posted from my uncle’s living room in Freiburg. Shortly after that, Amy and I piled into my uncle’s van with his wife, two kids, a ton of food and coats and all that for the trip to Karlsruhe (well, Grötzingen, really- the 1,015 year old village where my grandmother lives) to Omi’s house.

It was spectacular. Most of my family was there (barring two of my three brothers), both my uncles with their wives and kids (I have five first cousins), and of course my grandmother. It was the first time we were all in the same room in almost ten years, and everything went off without a hitch. First coffee and cake and getting to know each other again (most of my cousins I hadn’t seen since they were kids, or mid teens at the latest- this was the first time I met them as adults), and then it was family picture time, and finally off across the valley, two clicks away to my other uncle’s house for wine, dinner, stories, gossip, wine, a very small bit of family feuding but really just as much as was necessary to satisfy tradition by the scantest bit, then more wine, stories, gossip, etc.

I had some wonderful insights about family and social habits that I’ll spare you all now, but don’t hesitate to ask if you want to hear the sappy details of what I realized while drinking with my family in Germany. Suffice it to say that I was far happier and more touched from getting to see my Omi and my cousins than I had anticipated.

Amy, my uncle, his daughter and I fell asleep in the car on the way back to Freiburg, while his son and wife stayed awake and drove. This morning we packed, and then hit Freiburg to climb the Münster (cathedral) tower and pick up some last minute things.

The Münster isn’t nearly as awash with gilt as the Peterskirche in München, but spectacular in its own rite. It hasn’t changed much since it was finished in the 15^th century (the conversion from local monastery to cathedral began in the 13^th century), so it’s still very much about wooden pews and massive red sandstone arches against a white plaster ceiling, enormous stained glass windows all around, and at least three sets of monstrous organ pipes. And when I say “monstrous” I mean that they were a good 20 feet long, in bundles at least 25 feet wide, with the larges ones so big around that you could drop a five year old child down them without grease.

Like many medieval churches this one, in addition to the usual clock tower with bells, look-out post and weather vane, has a number of handy things carved on the outside- calendars, sun dials, the official Ellenmas of the city where all measuring sticks could be verified (the Elle, or ell, is a distance measurement based on the tip of the middle finger to the back of the crooked elbow- hence the term “elbow,” being literally the bow of the ell), graffiti, the arms of local dignitaries and groups, etc.

And the Wasserspeier (gargoyles) are of course always a point of amusement. Medieval buildings have a certain whimsy to them, so along with the usual bearded men, dragons and demons, some of the gargoyles here included goats, trolls and even a woman clinging to the battlements with her hands and feet, legs stretched out and a water pipe coming out of her ass. Earthy humor at best.

Then we climbed the Münsterturm (clock tower). It’s 209 steps up to the actual clock, a massive mechanical beast of precious metal with a gothic arch case. The whole thing is about 8 feet wide, including the clock itself and the mechanisms on the ends that pull the bell ropes. It’s encased in a series of glass doors that let you see it, but not actually touch. It struck ¾ (quarter ‘till the hour) while we were looking at it, and wow, was it loud! The bells are just about 8 meters above you, pointing right at your skull. Quite something.

At this point in the writing the train pulled into Frankfurt, so that’ll have to do for now. Check back next time for more on climbing the Münster (including the bells and the cramped, open stairs to the observation platform), pizza of DOOM, catching the wrong train and wandering around Frankfurt in the dark.

Weinachten in Freiburg

I’m sitting in the tiny kitchen of our rooftop flat in Freiburg, eating Brot (bread) mit Butter und Gelee (with butter and jelly). Unlike American bread, this is dense, firm, brown bread with a thick crust- it doesn’t crumble when you spread cold butter on it, and makes for a satisfying breakfast.

Amy is still asleep after another late night with my uncle’s family, comparing California wine (I brought a bottle) to local wine from the Kaiserstuhl, a small mountain range in the middle of the Rheintal (Rhine Valley). It’s weird to wake up before dawn, even if “before dawn” can mean “8:15” as it did today. It’s after nine and I’ve showered, shaved, flipped the laundry (it’s been drying in front of various space heaters throughout the night), and am eating breakfast, and it’s still just starting to get properly light out. The church towers to the west are illuminated, and some of the higher buildings as well, but our neighborhood is still in the shadow of the Schwarzwald (Black Forest)

After a late breakfast with family we explored Freiburg a bit more yesterday, but it was cold and everything was closed. Eventually we ducked into the Starbucks I made yesterday’s posts from, and then came back to the apartment to read, nap and relax. Then, as usual, back out to the family for dinner.

My uncle’s wife is from Cyprus, but has lived in Germany for 30 years or so. The food was, in a word, phenomenal: Roast duck (German) with gravy (also German), meat dolmas (Greek), some sort of fried meatball (Greek), tzatziki (Greek) with boiled as well as fried potatoes (both German), Rotkohl (red cabbage, German) and of course the two wines. Much of it was meat-based, but I got my fill of German food with a touch of Greek, and I’m assured the meat was delicious.

And now the sun has just about reached us, and is shining off the Ziegel (tile) and Schiefer (slate) roofs, clearly illuminating the huge gilded clock on the double-spired church by my uncle’s house. I can’t read it with the sun blazing off the Zeiger und Ziffern (hands and numbers), but it’s about 9:20, so time to wake Amy and go meet the family for a road trip down to Karlsruhe to meeting my other uncle and his family, my parents, brother and grandmother for a family Christmas luncheon. We’ll be back here tonight, likely with my brother and father in tow as they strive to get out from underfoot of my aging grandmother and the worked-up clan.

 

The view out of our apartment with the Münster (cathedral, left spire with the scaffolding), the Schwabentor (not the Martinstor, as I called it earlier- I always get the two confused), and the Feldberg (Field Mountain) in the background. The first truly sunny day we've had so far. Freiburg.

 

The view looking the other way. The two-spired church in the background isn't nearly as far as it seems- maybe a kilometer away. My uncle lives right across the street, so we just walk it. Freiburg.

 

Out the same window, now a bit more to the left. The house there has a gorgeous widow's walk on top, and you can see a classic slate roof on the right. Freiburg.

Happy Christmas!

Well, while I’m waiting for the pictures to upload, I’ll start typing up another post!

We got to Freiburg OK, and then went to meet my uncle for Jörg (pronounced York) for the key, and discovered that a) I don’t, in fact, remember his address, b) of the two phone numbers he gave me, one was a digit short and c) the one complete number I had for him was his work number- obviously, he wasn’t there. So we called my dad to get the number, but he didn’t pick up.

Fuck it all, we’re getting lunch! And hot damn, was it tasty! A nice little Italian joint (most places were closed, it being after 12:00 noon on Christmas Eve), and enjoyed a salad with sheep cheese and a tasty pesto spaghetti. Naturally, right when we ordered my dad called, I called my uncle, and we got contact. Shortly thereafter we had a key and a ride back to the apartment, a quick tour of the heaters and all that, and had the afternoon to ourselves.

When you’re in Freiburg, you explore. It’s a small city, founded in 1120 (yes, it’s almost 900 years old) with a university and Münster (cathedral). Much of the Innenstad (inner city) is very old, with lovely designs in the sidewalks made of split river pebbles, as well as Bächle (“brooks,” deep gutters with permanent water running through them. Back in the day, the Bächle were the sewers, but more recently they’re self-cleaning gutters and, of course, wonderful toys for kids. I remember floating sticks and paper boats down them when I was a kid. The water in them is straight out of the Dreisam river, and (supposedly) drinking water, so it’s safe. The fountains, too, are all potable water, although most of them are off in the winter. Fountains are all over Freiburg- they’re the origin of most of the Bächle, and function as drinking fountains, public art and Denkmäler (memorials) for all sorts of things. A city that’s nine centuries old has a lot of memorials.

The Münster is being renovated, so most of the steeple is scaffolded at the moment, but that’s ok, it’s still very impressive. The entire thing is built of red sandstone (indeed, much of the city is), with gargoyles and crenelations aplenty, and of course spectacular stained glass windows.

In the evening, we went back to my uncle’s place for dinner. My cousins are huge now- Robert is in college, and Emily is graduating high school. I haven’t seen them in about ten years, so it’s like getting to know strangers. My uncle and his wife are both a bit older, but not changed much. He’s a sarcastic, snarky German man with iron gray hair and an avid hang glider, climber, skier and kite surfer, his wife’s from Cyprus, speaks excellent German with a Greek accent, and dotes on her kids and puts up with her husband’s penchant for extreme sports. Today she announced they’re welcome to go skiing, she’s staying home, taking a hot bath, and enjoying her new Christmas gift (an infrared lamp). In all, they’re very kind people who are taking excellent care of us.

Dinner was delicious (Raklet, a sort of roast-your-own cheese thing from Switzerland that’s rather popular here. It’s a twist on the classic fondue, in that the cheese is roasted in small treys and then placed directly on the bread, potatoes, mushrooms, whatever, rather than melted and dipped), and then we all moved to the living room for Christmas. In Germany, the gift-giving is done on Christmas eve, after dinner. We were told “no gifts!” which we took seriously (mostly- we brought a bottle of California wine from Lodi and some Scharfenberger chocolate from Berkeley), but of course they didn’t- I got a lovely Lami pen (Lami is the premier pen manufacturer in a country that still values penmanship- I’m very pleased) and Amy got a small embroidered green fabric pouch. Then, after much wine, champagne, Christmas cookies and good cheer, we toddled home in the cold and slept like logs.

This morning, we went back to my uncle for breakfast, were informed we’re coming back for dinner, as well as breakfast tomorrow before we all carpool to my grandmother’s to meet my immediate family and more of my German family. That’s how it goes here- once someone gets hold of you, they invite you back and back and back until you insist you have to go elsewhere, and then they’ll pass you on to someone else they know will take care of you. It’s lovely.

And now we’re in a Starbucks (the only thing open on Christmas) slowly drinking hot tea and mooching WiFi (or WLAN as it’s called here). More later, though perhaps not for a bit. Ooh, sunshine! Time to go!

Picture dump!

 

The Sendlingertor in München. This was a half-block down from our hotel, and part of the old city wall. You can see the old ironware sconces, as well as where various windows have been punched through and bricked up through the centuries. München.

  

Otto Fürst von Bismarck. This statue was a good thirty feet tall- very impressive! To the right is the bridge across the river to the Museumsinsel (Museum Island) and the Deutsches Museum. München.

 

Plaque for Fürst Bismarck. München.

 

A cut-away ship (not a model- an actual ship!) in the Deutsches Museum. They had a lot like this- huge things, cut away. A U-1 submarine, airplanes, etc, etc. München.

 

Amy posing with one of the larger steamengines. They got a bit larger, and a lot smaller- all real and still reeking of oil. Deutsches Museum, München.

 

And beer. Oh, yes, the beer! This was in "Münche's Kleinste Gaststube"- Munich's Smallest Pub. A three-chair diner with a tent out back expanding by another 12 tables or so.

 

The decorated verandas on the tower inside the courtyard of the Neues Rathaus- the New City Hall in München.

 

The Martinstor (Martin's Gate), my favorite Tor in the world, and about four blocks from where we're staying. Freiburg.

 

I believe this is the City Hall, or was at some point. Notice the brightly colored roofs and heavy gilding. Freiburg.

 

Amy standing by a rosette in the sidewalk. There are several of these every block. All those stones, the large and small, are round, flat river stones from the Dreisam that were split and laid in broken side up. Very sturdy sidewalks with excellent grip in the wet. Freiburg.

 

We found an excellent playground on the way back from my uncle's place, in a churchyard. Freiburg.

 

The church near my uncle's house. This is NOT the Münster- the Münster is much larger and more ornate (although not painted). The bells here were impressive when they rang at the end of Christmas morning mass. Freiburg.

 

Hemingway's pub. Not sure how I resisted. Freiburg.

 

A plain (non-decorated) sidewalk, and some locals- even the older people (these were in their 60's) believe in fashion here. Notice the gilded owl handbag. Freiburg.

 

Germany still has a tradition of fanciful storefront signs. Here's a  jeweler and watch repair store, with interlocking gold rings and a working watch clock. Freiburg.

 

It's the mate to the Starbucks mermaid! A decoration in a window frame at the side of the Rathaus. Freiburg.

 

Another decoration in a window frame. Freiburg.

Amy standing in front of the lovely painted ironwork gate to the Rathause. You can see the city arms and the dates inlaid in front. The stripe isn't raised, but not many sidewalks are around here.

Nach Freiburg!

We’re on the train from München to Freiburg, via a transfer in Manheim. We’ll have 7 minutes- not much time, but it should be enough. We’re seeing the first sun we’ve had since we landed in Franfurt- bright, early morning (it’s not quite ten, so less than 90 minutes since sunrise) light through the tearing clouds. We even had bit of blue sky earlier.

And now we’re rolling through the German countryside, west toward Karlsruhe (all trains here are indicated by their end destination) with a changeover in Manheim north and getting off in Freiburg.

We’re not sitting together- German trains salt in reservations with the non-reseverd seats, so you try to find a non-reserved one or risk getting booted. I got booted, then got booted again, and now I’m a car down from Amy, but at least I have a table to write at. Barring frustrations with seats, I still love the German trains. Fast, clean, efficient, on time, quiet, fast. Everything you’d expect in a former fascist country, really. Except Russia. I hear Russian trains aren’t so hot. But Italian trains are famous, and even the US is moving slowly but steadily toward a proper train service, even as we’re moving slowly and steadily toward fascism. Lovely thought, really.

And here’s Hauptbanhof Ulm (central station, Ulm).

Yesterday, we hit the Deutsches Museum. This thing is stupendously huge. It had sections in aeronautics (several historical planes, including the first solar plane to fly across the Alps, the first plane to fly the English Channel, etc, and dozens more starting with balloons all the way through modern jet fighters and new experimental aircrafts), manufacturing, machinery (including dozens of enormous steam engines), an entire weather station, a mining section including four stories worth of underground dioramas (no exaggeration!), a historical instrument display (I got pictures of a 16^th century drum), a boat display including a cut open sailship, steam ship and the U-1 submarine (first Germany military submarine), about a dozen smaller boats (from curraghs to “small” fishing vessels of 7 meters or so) and several life-size dioramas, a section on nanotechnology, a section on textiles, a section on high voltage electricity and nuclear power, a section on oil and natural gas, a section on historical and modern casting/foundry work, a section on printing, a section on glass blowing, a section on ceramics spanning from cave paintings to modern industrial uses, a section on turbines, a section on space travel (including the first liquid-fuel rocket that flew successfully), a section on 1950’s household technology (much more old-school than the 1950’s we think of in the US- this is pre-jet age. Gas-powered toasters, bikes with pushrod breaks, things that we’d think of as closer to the 30’s and 40’s), a section on the Deutschen Zukunftspreis (German Futureprize, a program to spur cutting-edge technology) and much, much more. Each and every one of these sections would work just fine as its own museum. Some, like the nanotechnology section might be a fairly small museum, or a section of a larger one, but others, like the aerospace exhibit or the mining section were so big I would have considered them large museums in their own rite.

So how did we see all that in one day? Easy: we got lost. We walked in, hit the boats, and promptly lose track of each other. No matter, that happens all the time in museums, right? We’ll just keep looking… and found each other again an hour later. But now, we’d seen different things, so we split up and agreed in about 20 minutes at the café. Not the front door one, the one in the back. Amy didn’t have a watch, so I suggested I could come find her in the musical instruments if she wasn’t at the café.

Well, twenty minutes later, I went to find the musical instruments, which took me 15 minutes, but she wasn’t there, so I went to the café. She wasn’t there. Then I started trying to find her, and discovered just how huge this place was.

I walked at a good clip for two hours, and kept thinking I had seen the whole thing when I discovered a another huge section. The mining section alone took me about 20 minutes just to walk through. Not stroll- walk, quickly.

In the meantime, Amy was at the café, waiting for me for an hour before she gave up, tried to find me, by which time the café closed so she left to get food and came back. We finally found each other in the musical instruments, sweaty, tired, footsore and (in my case) starving. It was 4:00 pm by now, and I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and been at a quick walk for two hours. I estimate I walked over four miles in that museum, but I got to see a huge number of things, even if I didn’t get to examine them. It’s weird how much knowledge you can absorb just walking past something and glancing at it.

Anyhow, we finally found each other, having both spent more time looking for each other than at the things in the museum, and having spent all day in there- which we hadn’t planned on. But now we know that we’ll definitely need to go back and check this place out again. Truly massive, loads of brilliant stuff (including originals and The Real Thing quite often), and all very well signed out- far more in-depth information than we’re used to, and dozens of docents that wandered around to expound on anything you’re interested in.

Then dinner, ein bier (a big one, so 0.51 liters), then noch ein bier (a small one, or 0.31 liters, part of which got spilled), then Weinachtsmarkt for Christmas shopping. I could go on about the Weinachtsmarkt, but I think you’re probably sick of this, and I’m certainly not saying what we got for people for Christmas- other than that there’s some quintessentially German stuff there, things I remember from my childhood. Then Amy found an H&M and dodged in to get some basics, while I enjoyed a Hirtenpunsch (shepherd’s punch, or mulled white wine). She came back and pointed out that they had men’s basics there- unlike the H&M Mann (H&M for men) I checked out earlier this week, which was tiny and seemed to cater to the higher end of H&M fashion, this was the general store where they had cheap t-shirts. Jackpot! I now have enough clean clothes to take me almost all the way home! A bit of handwashing, and I won’t even stink on the plane- Amy will be thrilled!

And now we’re climbing through the mountains- the Schwarzwald (Blackforest) maybe? I don’t even know. Forests (new growth- German forests are all managed crop forests), charming Dörfer (villages), with their medieval churches and Ratshäuser (city halls, often the biggest, oldest building next to the churches), Gasthäuser (pubs) and of course residential areas.

As the birthplace of Protestantism (Martin Luther and those theses he nailed to the church door), even the smallest German villages have at least two churches- on Catholisch (Catholic) and one Evangelisch (Protestant or Lutheran, not Evangelical).

Once we hit Freiburg, we’ll need to meet my uncle to get the house key from him, and then we’ll have a few hours to settle in and get ready before meeting him and his family for Christmas Eve.

Christmas Eve is the big one here, and most things will close around noon. Christmas Day (or der Erste Weinachtstag- the first day of Christmas) is for visiting extended, der Zweite Weinachtstag (2^nd day of Christmas) is for extended family, neighbors and close friends, and then you sort of move out from there, so being invited to Abendessen (dinner) on Heilige Abend (Christmas Eve) is about like being invited to Christmas morning breakfast.

Christmas day we’ll have to ourselves in Freiburg, and hopefully we’ll at least get a chance to see a few things. The Münster (cathedral) will certainly be open, but probably hopping busy with enthusiastic Catholics. Nothing against enthusiastic Catholics, but I don’t think they want enthusiastic tourists in pushing through their masses to climb the tower than vice versa. But it should be a sunny day, so that’ll be nice.

Update: It’s now the next morning. Christmas Eve (and the whole German Christmas shebang is behind us, as well as Christmas morning breakfast, again with my uncle’s family. We weren’t able to get to internet yesterday, so this is a bit late. Expect very sporadic updates through the rest of the trip- the closest internet is in a Starbucks six blocks from where we’re staying. That might change on the 27^th, but will be like this today and the 26^th, at least.

Fish, Precious!

The food. Oh my god, the food.

But we’ll get to that. First the garden.

I woke up early again (I’ve been doing that), snuck downstairs and fired off a few emails, then grabbed Amy and we set off in search of breakfast. Unremarkable, in all, and we came back to the hotel, Amy fired off some emails, and we finalized details with my dad for the place in Freiburg (we’ll be staying in a rooftop flat that’s been in my mother’s family for decades, trading off with my dad), and then took the U-Bahn (the Untergrundbahn, or underground, as opposed to the S-Bahn, or Straßenbahn, the street car) to the Englischer Garten (English Garden) to see the Chinesischer Turm (Chinese Tower).

Complex transit systems in foreign countries are always confusing, but once we got our bearings this one was amazingly easy, fast, efficient and comfortable. Seriously, if BART could be rebuilt to those standards, nobody in the Bay would need a car. Add the S-Bahn for local (block-to-block, instead of only every half-mile or so) and you’d be set. We surfaced, were completely turned around, picked a random direction, started walking, found a sign reading “Englischer Garten,” changed direction, and entered the garden.

Two things: first, the “garden” would be considered an unusually large and well-manicured park in the US. Close-cut grass, clay and gravel walkways, charming bridges, creeks and geese. Second there was no gate. Not “the gate was open”- there was no gate. And no fence. Public spaces aren’t fenced off in Germany, they’re there to be used. In fact, this extends to managed forests (anyone’s welcome to hike in them), some private lands (private parks, such as castle gardens, are about as well fenced off as fenced in public parks in the US, and camping is permitted on large parcels of private lands provided you don’t infringe on the owners and stay out of sight) and a lot of other space. Fences are rare, fences higher than a decorative, hip-high iron fence are almost non-existent without a major reason such as a hole in the street.

Anyhow, the garden was gorgeous. Huge, more like English grounds than a garden, with a lake, creek, massive, multi-tiered Chinese-style pagoda, a Japanese teahouse (we didn’t see it), boat rental on the lake, etc. It was snowy and muddy for most of it, and we had the interesting experience of being both rained and snowed on at the same time, but it wasn’t too bad. Chilly, but only slightly drizzly, muddy, but not too deep. Those paths are well built. I got some new shoes yesterday, and am happy to report that they’re extremely waterproof and very comfortable.

The Chinesischer Turm was rather impressive, in the way only Western-built versions of Asian architecture can be. Large, solid, maintaining the post-and-beam construction and fluted roofs of the original, but still letting the stalwart, severe German medievalism shine through. It’s impressive. Seriously, go and Google “Chinesicher Turm München” right now. I’ll wait. There- wasn’t that totally worth it? And totally worth it in person!

And the food. There was a touristy Weinachstmarkt in the garden, but the only non-meat AND non-sugar food we found was Plätzchen mit Rahm und Lauch (flatbread with cream and leeks). Oh my god nom! A crispy, stone-baked sourdough flatbread with thick cream cheese like cream and leeks spread on, baked, and then fresh leeks sliced onto the top. Amy’s had Speck (bacon, but not quite American bacon- more like shaved prosciutto), which she said was delicious. Then Glühwein and Heisen Weisen (“hot white,” a white Glühwein), and back to the U-Bahn.

Then we came back to the Weinachtsmarkt to do some Christmas shopping, and find coffee. This was the first time in Germany I actually saw mochas on the menu, and had to get one- very interesting. It came in a small, narrow glass, and was about half foam with an extremely sweet chocolate syrup across the top- I’m glad I asked for no cream! The cherry/biscotti cheesecake was also delicious. I swear, I’ve been subsisting on variations of bread, cheese, coffee and the occasional beer here. Heaven!

Then Amy got some nifty new boots, and we headed back to the hotel to take a nap and drop off the shopping.

Finally, we headed back out again to find some t-shirts (I’m out of clean shirts, and since I need some anyhow, I figured I might as well buy them here and avoid the hassle of a washing run just for t-shirts) and dinner. Finding shirts was a total bust- it’s amazingly hard to find cheap staples like that in a city you don’t live in! We tried American Apparel, since they’re generally a source for reasonable, well-made shirts, but at 22 Euros for the cheapest ones, I decided I could hand wash. Next up: food!

We’d  passed a Thai restaurant this morning and had resolved to try German Thai food, but by this time beer sounded damn good, so we headed over to the local Gasthaus. There was a small section of side salads, a “small and healthy section” with four dishes (two, and possibly all four of which, were undoubtedly not much more than appetizers), and then a huge section of entrees, all of which included meat, a huge meat dishe section, then a wild game section, a selection of weekly specials that read like a taxidermist’s catalog, and deserts. Nary a fish or serious vegetable dish to be seen, which isn’t hugely surprising for the capital of Bavaria, but sad nonetheless.

We passed a tasty looking café, but a glance through the window revealed that I would be the only man without a tie (or, indeed, more than a couple of buttons on my shirt), and Amy would be the only woman wearing a color other than black, white or expensive red. We moved on.

Then we found an Italian place that advertised a salmon pasta. I’m a sucker for good fish, and hadn’t had any in a week, so that’s where we went. The salmon pasta wasn’t on the menu inside, but grilled salmon in green pepper sauce was. Oh, holy nutballs was that tasty! I like good food as much as the next person, but I’m no gourmand by any stretch- still, this was divine, no doubt about it. Buttered rice and crispy fried onions on the side, garnished with a sprig of thyme, scallions and a drizzle of reduced balsamic, respectively. The fish was perfectly cooked, light, flakey and moist, the sauce was rich without being at all fatty, peppery without being spicy, with quiet notes of herbs and, well, the whole, fresh pepper corns that floated amongst them. Amy had a seafood pasta with cherry tomatoes, which was also quite good from what little I tasted, but quite fishy- I don’t think either of us expected that, and while it was very well made, it’s not a flavor set either of us go wild for. I also had a Dunkeles Weissbier (“dark white beer”- white beer being the local term for wheat beer), which paired quite well.

Then, tipsy, we headed back to the hotel, checked email, and now Amy is upstairs, and I’m going to follow her and turn in. Tomorrow we’re shooting for the Deutsches Museum, and then Saturday we’re off to Freiburg.

Peterskirche

It’s a dreary, wet morning in München. The weather forecast calls for rain, but no more snow- sad! Snow’s much more pleasant to be out in. Rain just gets you wet. Still, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be at the moment.

It’s just after nine in the morning here, and I’m sitting in the lobby surrounded by the hustle and bustle of breakfast. The wall of glass to the street is full of people going places, wrapped to the nose and with hats pulled low in the cold- it’s still not much above freezing. There’s a wide median, or narrow park, between the two lanes of the street, with a playground and a covered fountain. Many of the larger fountains are covered for the winter to keep them from freezing and damaging the pipes inside. Except for the odd bit clinging to rooflines, the snow has melted.

There’s a café across the street I’ll likely hit up for coffee and breakfast later, Ida’s Milchladen (Ida’s Milk Store, whatever that is), and Surja’s Hexenladen (Surja’s Witch Store). I’m intensely curious about the Hexenladen, and will likely be making a sojourn there before we leave. What does a Hexenladen sell? I imagine it might be some sort of new age or herbal store, or else cashing in on the local witchcraft legends (every German town has them), but we’ll see.

Yesterday was a day of minor errands (laundry! Postcards!), and some more walking around to hit the major sights in the Altstadt (oldtown). The Viktualenmarkt (victual market) is a sort of gourmet farmer’s market selling everything from prickly pears to fine cheese, local meats (and Bayern does know its meat!) to wine, honey, imported fruits in a variety I’ve never even seen in California, baked goods, breads (there’s a difference!) and much, much more. The Altes Rathaus (old city hall) was gorgeous on the outside (in daylight this time, no less!), but we didn’t go inside to see the toy museum inside. We missed the Glockenspiel on the Rathausturm (the glockenspiel with rotating carousel of figures on the city hall clock tower), but did make it to the Peterskirche (St. Peter’s Church) between when it opened from cleaning and evening services.

The Peterskirche is gorgeous inside. First erected in the 14^th century, it has been renovated numerous times including in the Renaissance (added a spire) and Baroque (rebuilt the alter). In all, the church was an awesome testament to over 600 years of human dedication to their religion, and I mean that in the most literal sense. Walking into this place floored me with the opulence and dedication to gold leaf. To modern sensibilities, it’s a bit garish really, with gilded, larger-than-life statues on the columns down both sides of the nave, a huge, ornate alter (also gilded) a high ceiling covered entirely with brightly colored frescoes, etc, etc, etc. I couldn’t help but wonder what could have been done with that much money to feed the hungry, the poor and the ill. Sure, there were collection boxes throughout the church, but only one was dedicated to the poor and ill- the rest were dedicated to keeping up the church, keeping up the art, a petition to beatify a local woman who lived in the 1600 hundreds, etc. Still, quite a testament to generations of dedication.

Then back to the hotel where I crashed hard for an hour or two, while Amy went out for dinner and another turn through the Weinachtsmarkt. Today we’re making foray to the local museums (well, that’s the plan- we haven’t been too good with sticking to plans) and then… who knows?

Das Neue Kinokothek

So I’ll try to keep today’s post shorter than yesterday’s.

We’ll see if it works.

We spent most of the day trudging around outside, or in a museum. After breakfast we set out to find the Botanischen Garten- the botanical garden of München. It was a lovely walk, with a light snowfall, but when we found the garden it proved to be essentially a small park, like a big median stripe, full of bare trees and dead, snow-covered grass. Apparently botanical gardens don’t do so well where it freezes and weird white stuff falls from the sky. But that’s OK, we just got a new goal: Das Neue Pinakothek, or New Museum.

This was a bit more of an adventure. It gradually started snowing more and more, and a breeze appeared, so by the time we found the Pinakothek cluster (there’s three of them- Old, New and Modern, catering to ancient, 19^th century and modern art) we were shaking off snow. It still wasn’t sticking, but this was more than the errant snowflake from last night. We couldn’t find the Neue Pinakothek, though- the building where our map said it was didn’t seem to have a doorway. We kept trudging around it, and eventually found the door three quarters of the way around it, along with a sign that said “open every day of the week, except Tuesdays.” Naturally, it’s Tuesday. So we opted for the Moderne Pinokothek across the street, which is closed Mondays instead of Tuesdays.

This turned out to be a stupendous idea, since all the modern art we hoped for was, in fact, here. Some of the art was truly awesome, some of it was less than spectacular. The whole thing was in rooms maybe 20x20 feet, and about 15 feet high, painted white with a gray cultured granite floor. One of the highlights for me was a room with black string vectors strung through it- five in total, going diagonally from floor to ceiling and to walls. The effect was off-putting at first- it was so huge, and filled the space so completely that my reaction was to stop at the doorway, try to take it in, and then move on. But then I didn’t. Instead, I noticed that two lines crossed, and might even touch, though both were totally straight, so no tension against each other. Then I realized that there was no barrier, no sign to stay away from it, no docent eyeing me from the corner, so I went and looked at the string crossing. Then, I walked beneath the strings into the space delineated by black cords. It felt like an oddly intimate act, like I was invading the art’s space. I pushed further into the space, focusing so closely on the black thread and white, brightly lit walls, that my entire sense of space became anchored in nothing by those thin black lines, sparse enough that I could get no real directional bearing- I could see I was five feet from the X, for instance, but not if I was in front, to the side, or even above or below- I had to take a moment, check gravity, refocus on the walls, and then find that I’d lost the X- profoundly awesome experience.

Then, another person showed up, and the whole illusion vanished.

They had some other neat stuff- loads of paintings which I won’t even try to describe, some photography and modern sculpture, and the bottom floor was entirely devoted to industrial design. Particularly neat stuff included a VW Beetle from 1944, and a BMW motorcycle from 1929. I won’t go on to describe the entire museum to you, and just say that there were a lot of interesting things, a lot of things we marveled were in a museum rather than on a fleamarket, and a few spectacular things.

I take it back- the ground floor had an interesting exhibit on wood as a renewable building source, with scale models of particularly large or intricate modern structures, along with blown up photos of the actual structures. I was particularly intrigued by one made of a series of massive, 40-meter-wide umbrellas with cross-hatched lath skins. The tiny humans in the model gave it a grandiose sense of scale, and I would love to see the original.

Then a swing through gift store, and back out into the snow. By now, it was probably two or three inches thick (pretty good for “less than an inch), and getting colder. We went back to the hotel, warmed up, pulled on some warmer clothes, and headed back out to the Weinachtsmarkt for dinner. The snow was taking on a decidedly wet consistency, a trend that continued for the rest of the evening. Currywurst and Kartoffelngratin (potatoes au gratin), Glühwein and roasted chestnuts- just what the doctor ordered. We window shopped quite a bit for Christmas gifts, but by then the snow was very wet and alternating with a light rain. The upside was that it was considerably warmer at 8:00 pm than at 2:00 pm, but also wetter. The precipitation overall was lighter though, so not too bad.

And now, I think, it’s bed time. Tomorrow we’re doing more Christmas shopping (and some decidedly non-Christmas shopping), and tracking down a Laundromat. Wish us luck- we need clean clothes!

Pictures!

 

It was definitely snowing- that's all new since we got into the museum!

 

A rather awesome wood model- you can see the scare of that thing! Each of the people in that are a half-inch tall.

 

Occupy Frankfurt, appropriately enough at the statue of the Euro sign. For the sake of sanity, it's to be noted that the Euro is not quite seen the same way as the dollar- in addition to being a currency, it's a currency that united nations. Hence the 11 gold stars.

 

A Tor- hier the Ratshaustor, or city hall gate.

 

Glühwein, bread, candle, and milk can full of silverware. Help yourself!

 

Amy found a tasty goulash! The chalkboard behind her has a number of alcoholic slogans, including "thirst is worse than homesickness." We agreed!

 

The Weinachtsmarkt and a Tor.

 

The Irish pub in Frankfurt.

 

An awesome old BMW motorcycle in the design section of the Moderne Pinokothek.

Münchener Morgen

Last night I woke up starving in the wee hours again. I did that the night before too, although this time it was happily delayed until 5:00 or so. This time I lay there and tried to figure out what the hell was going on with my body. Normally, I almost never wake up hungry at night- once every few years at most.

As I was dreaming (unfortunately only metaphorically) of catatoes and a delicious, cheesey mushroom burger at Cato’s, it hit me: back in California, it was 9:00 at night. My stomach was howling for its very overdue dinner. Eating something was out of the question of course, not only because I had no food in the room, but because I’m desperately trying to get my body adjusted to German time. I drifted back off about six, and was jerked from a deep sleep by Housekeeping’s knock at 9:15 or so. Great. My body’s sleeping in split shifts, with a break for food fantasizing in between.

And today’s another cold morning, just a few degrees above freezing, high gray clouds that promise snow. There’s a dusting on the rooftops and medians, and the weather report promises more today- less than an inch over the course of the day, and then another 1-3 tonight, and more tomorrow. If it keeps this up, we’ll have that white Christmas we came here for.

Amy didn’t sleep well and was just rolling out of bed when I came down to the lounge for free WiFi (or WLAN as it’s called here), so she’s still upstairs making use of the amazing shower. Overall, the lounge and reception area of this place is gorgeous- huge, designed to the nines, lots of open space and frosted glass- and while the bedroom really only pays lip service, that design extends to our bathroom with a glassed-in shower with totally adjustable rain shower head. A massive waste of water to my California brain, but lovely for the groggy travelers.

München- Tag 1.

After last night’s post I joined Amy and napped and then we hauled our carcasses out of bed to find some food. The hotel had provided a handy list of local attractions (mostly restaurants and bars, some clubs and a few cultural things), but of course everything was closed- this is Germany, a country that shuts down on Sundays. It’s getting better (some grocery stores, for instance, were actually open today) but the prospects looked grimm. There was a note about a number of Apfelwein (hard cider, a local delicacy) establishments across the river, and that most of them served food, so off we went.

It was a bit chilly- we had to keep moving so we wouldn’t freeze to the sidewalk. We passed a street full of immigrant food kiosks and storefronts. There were Döner (rotisserie kebab) places (sort of like the taqueria of Germany), Asian food of every stripe, and dive bars mixed with new-and-used cell phone stores, luggage and import stores, sex establishments, Italian clothing stores, financial institutions and every sort of high and low-brow business you could imagine. No German Gasthaus though, so we kept walking. We found the street that promised Apfelwein, but most places were closed- the majority that were open were unapologetic bars and some high-end restaurants. Nothing against bars or high-end, but right then we wanted a place that would fill us with decent food at a reasonable price and not expect us to be particularly polite. No dice.

We got to the end, turned around and decided we’d grab the first likely-looking place that wasn’t a) super fancy or b) something we could get back in California, found nothing, crossed back across the river, and found Occupy Frankfurt. It was small, maybe a dozen and a half tents, but so weather proof it almost looked fortified- palette walkways, tarps over everything, people chatting. Interesting, but also cold, damp, and we still hadn’t eaten. Oh, and it was pushing six at night, so a good hour after the sun had gone down.

We went back to the first street we found, and turned in to a Lebanese place. It was, ultimately, a Döner place with Lebanese flair, but quite tasty. Cheap, loads of food, and they left us alone. Perfect. Then hotel, warmth, sleep.

It was a long night fighting jet lag, but we got ourselves showered, dressed, packed and out the door just about 11:00 am. We’d missed breakfast, but whatever. We checked out, left our bags with the clerk, and went in search of food.

Food, eventually, was found by way of a very German cafe and bakery (well, more of a baked good store- I don’t think they actually baked on site). Amy got pictures of what looked like a huge breakfast but ended up being just right, and then we headed off to the Weinachtsmarkt.

On the way, we stopped off at Occupy Frankfurt, and chatted with some folks there. One, an older gentleman from Spain, had been to several of the US camps, as well as the Portuguese camp and several German ones. He was well informed, but eventually wandered away as another guy took over more and more of the conversation. A tall, skinny German raised-in-Texas fellow with a five-day growth of beard, red paint smeared in his hair (I don’t know either), and a field mouse in his hand that he’d found nearly frozen and starving and adopted a few days ago. He showed us around and chattered non-stop about politics, conspiracy theories, genetics, etc.

We’ve all heard the US media speculating that the camps will break down as soon as it gets chilly, but these folks were well entrenched and braving the cold no problem. They’d laid down palettes to make walkways in the mud, and raised tents off the ground and tarped them off to keep them from flooding. They had a meeting hall, info booth, camp kitchen, etc. They had a permit from the city which had been extended through New Year’s, and was going to be extended more provided they turned “more political.” Apparently the city was OK with the protest, but didn’t want it to turn into a flop for homeless people or a party center, and so demanded louder politics. Interesting. They had not been raided, but were very aware of what was going on in the US (although this guy got some of the details a bit muddled). He did mention that the day after the coordinated crackdowns in the US the Frankfurt police had paraded through with K9 units, which everyone agreed was pure intimidation. Still, they had an issue with some drunks from a local bar causing a fight, and had no problem with calling the police, or the police responding. There's much less of the us-vs-them mentality between the Occupiers and the cops here.

We continued to the Weinarchtsmarkt.

German Weinachtsmärkte are famous, and a bit strange. The booths, first of all, are gorgeous. All wood, many with metal or wood roofs, fresh evergreen everywhere, flame-powered heaters standing around for people to warm up at (and with temperatures under 40 degrees F during the day, they’re necessary!), and packed to the gills. Unlike a lot of American markets, they tend to happen in the Plätze (plazas) and are accessible form all sides. They’re bustling, busy places, full of both tourists and locals eating Reibekuchen (sort of like deep-fried latkes), Wurst (grilled sausages of every stripe- mostly Weiswurst (what we’d call German sausage), Kielbasa, Kümmelwurst (Italian sausage) and Currywurst (Polish sausage drowned in a mix of ketchup and curry powder; delicious, if you can take the herbal equivalent of a boxing glove to the taste buds)), and drinking coffee, tea and Glühwein. Glühwein is everywhere this time of year- it’s a sweet mulled wine with cinnamon, cloves and orange wedges. Like at most Märkte in Germany, all drinks are served in ceramic cups or glasses, with a deposit of a few Euros. At night (the markets stay open until 8 or 9 at night) there are crowds of young people clustered around standing tables and heaters, clutching cups of hot Glühwein and chattering, laughing and enjoying the cold.

Did I mention it’s cold?

Much like the Renaissance faires or farmer’s markets, the Weinachtsmärkte have a few distinct types of booths that populate them, and you’ll see upwards of five of each within a single Platz. Würstchenbuden (sausage booths), Schokoladenbuden (chocolate booths that sell hot chocolate, coffee and tea), Holzschnitzerei aus Südtyrol (wood carvings from southern Tyrol), Imker (beekeepers, meaning honey, beeswax candles in a million different shapes, mead, etc), Bäkersbuden (bakery booths, offering pretzels, breads, cakes and some pastries) and of course Glühweinbuden (Glühwein booths). There are some others with wool crafts (gloves, socks, scarves) leatherwork (wallets and belts), gemstones and every stripe of candy booth, but those are the big ones.

After wandering about for a bit, we headed back to catch the train to München. We were too late to catch the 2 o’ clock train, so we stopped for lunch at an Irish pub. This thing was quintessentially Irish: tall ceilings, wood floor, hardwood bar with brass fittings, and traditional Irish music. And by “traditional Irish music” I mean “U2.” The waiter had a Dublin accent and looked about as Irish as could be. The fish and chips were spot-on, and of course the only tea in the house was black. Perfect for a cold day.

Then we ran back to the hotel, grabbed our bags, jammed to the train station, bought tickets, hopped on the train, and it pulled out less than 4 minutes later.

So: the train station. This thing was enormous. It had about 15 tracks, all terminating there, and was entirely roofed over in a huge metal hanger-like structure. In front, it was stone with gargoyles and statues, but inside it looked like a Victorian aircraft hanger. Truly stupendous. The trains, though, were everything but Victorian- sleek, fast, very quiet, with glass partitions between the cars and sliding doors. Comfortable and modern.

Three hours later we got to München, where it was (surprise!) cold and dark. We found the hotel and took some downtime, then slid on long underwear and ventured back out for dinner. First the Weinachtsmarkt down the block (in front of the local Tor, the medieval gate), and then down toward the Münster (cathedral). We got close, and found a Gasthouse (brewpub) that had been there since the 15^th century (supposedly). It was as Bayrisch (Bavarian) as the pub was Irish. Food was delicious, Bier (meaning “beer” since Germany doesn’t differentiate- this was a a Dunkel, meaning a dark lager) was good, and the service friendly. We shared a table with another couple, and then a couple of friendly middle-aged women who dropped in for cappuccinos. Germany is not for shy people.

Happily full of Glühwein and Bier, we hit the now-closed Weinachtsmarkt at the Münster, then wandered through the streets of München. Shortly after we passed through the Ratshaustor (city hall gate), it started snowing, first tiny crystals then big, fluffy flakes. We passed high-fashion stores (including the Apple store, the Northface store, the Tesla Motors dealership), medieval things, various Tore, Kirchen (churches), more vague memories like the Rindermarktstrasse (cattle market street) and Rossmarktstrasse (horse market street), and of course a myriad of Gasthäuser, each older than the last. Then back to the hotel to warm up, check email and finish writing this.

The hotel, by the way, is a little bit disappointing after the last one. This one, Hotel One, really made a big deal out of it’s designer decoration, which is certainly true in the lounge, but a bit lacking in the rooms. Downstairs it’s very postmodern with comfortable chairs, huge glass windows that open to the street (doors, really), modern lighting and aquamarine accents, but the rooms are small and Spartan, and look like the “designer” was a bit of an afterthought- aquamarine accents and a renovated bathroom. Still, it’s fairly cheap and in a good part of town and full of young travelers like ourselves. We'll take it. It's going to be our headquarters for the next 4 days.

And now I'm still typing away in the lounge (free WiFi!) while Amy's already upstairs, probably crashed out, and it's pushing midnight. The carols on the stereo are getting a bit desperate ("All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth"? Really?), and it's high time to turn in.