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.