Two Week Roadtrip Wrap

Our trip was completed with one more night in Brugges, Belgium. I have written about this town in prior posts, so I will keep my comments short. Overall each of our stops on this 2 week tour was an enjoyable feast for the eyes and mind. More time could have been allocated to each, but we were able to get a solid flavor of the towns without feeling that we were missing too much. It’s difficult to say if there was any one place that was the highlight, each was interesting in its own respect, and I am glad that we made time to visit the places we did. From medieval to modern, we were able to gain perspective on the geographic and architectural features that influenced the people who drove events of recent history: rolling fields and forests for the Meuse-Argonne where thousands died, the remote mountains that inspired the castles of King Ludwig, bustling Munich where Hitler found his lungs in the cacophony of the beer halls, the Austrian hills where Mozart was inspired and the von Trapps sang, medieval defenses along key trade routes in Bavaria, a granite quarry where murderers coerced the undesirables to extract stone for Nazi building projects, the symbolic center of the struggle between Communism and Capitalism in the German capital, the quiet calm of canals and bikes, and the impressive stone wealth of a previously powerful Belgian city.

Haarlem & Amsterdam

We left Berlin early in the morning to start the long drive to Haarlem in the Netherlands. Traveling at high speed on the German autobahn makes for a more interesting drive, but it was still a long distance. We were hustling to arrive at the Corrie ten Boom house for the last tour of the day. The house where the ten Boom family hid Jews is located in Haarlem, looking very similar to the war times. At the entrance we met friend of my parents from Holland. We were ushered inside by a friendly lady, along with a handful of other visitors, and sat in the same living room where the family had socialized before the tour started. The father had run a clock and watch shop on the first floor (there is a ten Boom clock shop still active on the first floor, but it is not associated with the family and the name is kept only for marketing reasons). Corrie was one of the first women in Holland to become certified in clock repair. The hiding place was more than just the small room we were to see later in an upper room. The family organized relocations of Jewish families to the country to escape the Nazis. Corrie was the coordinator, arranging transportation and lodging for the families on the run. There were several Jews who lived with the family for an extended period of time, and the “hiding place” was designed to protect them. The family used a small sign in the window to indicate if it was safe for Jews to enter or if the police were searching the house (as they did on many occasions) the sign was removed from the window. Our guide gave us a passionate description of the life of Corrie and then took us upstairs to see the “hiding place”. The hiding place was behind a false wall in a small bedroom. Designed by an architect, the false wall was made of brick and the floor boards were cut so that it appeared they ended at the wall. These features foiled the police who usually discovered such places by knocking on hollow wooden walls or noticing floor boards extending beneath walls that they shouldn’t. The size of a small closet, the hiding place is about 30 inches deep, just high enough for a person to stand upright, and extending to allow about 6 people side-by-side. The entrance was a small panel at the bottom of a closet that was lifted out of the way to expose an opening just large enough for a person. The group practiced entering the hiding place regularly, increasing their efficiency at squeezing through the hole and returning the shoes to their proper place to disguise the door until they could be inside in less than one minute. The brick wall has been opened up, so we were able to step inside and get our pictures taken while standing in the hiding place. After we climbed more stairs to the roof, where a small balcony was the only place where the Jews could safely see the sun. The balcony was hidden from the street and the railings were extended with boards to block the view from neighboring house windows.

We were escorted through the Holland countryside by Jenny and her husband, driving past canals guided by small dikes to feed the fields. We stopped at a harbor, shivering in the wind while large boats passed. Then went for dinner at a cutesy neighborhood, isolated on an island. The houses were picturesquely snuggled together and wooden boats pulled their noses tight against the piers.

Our hotel was in downtown Haarlem, just around the corner from the central Market Square and cathedral. The town is an idyllic collection of canals and cobblestones, enlivened by the bicycling populace. Everyone rides a bike; very popular are bikes with a large box attached where kids happily bounce as their parents pedal. We enjoyed meandering through the streets, our eyes soaking in the views of boat-lined canals and well-kept houses.

The next morning we took the train to Amsterdam for the day. Amsterdam is Haarlem on steroids: bigger, busier, and bustling. Our first stop was the Anne Frank house. This is one of the most popular sites and we joined the line to enter. Inside we traipsed through empty rooms, well described through plaques on the wall. Anne’s father has refused to allow the rooms to be furnished as they were when the family lived there. Instead he prefers to emphasize the house as a memorial to all who had to live through this experience. The most moving part of the visit was video clip of Anne’s father near the end of the tour. He was speaking about his relationship with his daughter, with who he was very close. I was struck by his comments that even though he and his daughter were as close as any father and daughter can be, that he had no idea of what she really thought until reading her diary. His comment was that he doesn’t think that any parent ever truly knows their child when they are young. And without her diary he would have had a very different view of who his daughter was.

Amsterdam is covered with museums, both world calls art and history and those focused on various niche subjects. We avoided being trapped in any of these and wandered the streets, crossing wide canals with house boats in all directions, dodging bikers from all directions. We stepped inside the courtyard of the Begijnhof; this was “old” Amsterdam, an open area surrounded by homes with a church in the center. Later we joined a canal boat cruise on a long ride that looped far enough to reach the sea. We caught the train back to Haarlem to allow time to explore there in the evening, including finding a storybook type windmill for pictures.

Berlin

After our sobering stop at Flossenburg, we drove north to Berlin. Berlin is a sprawling city, much different from the petite towns we had just visited. On the highway entering the city we noticed large bleacher seats along the road, aligned as if the spectators would watch traffic. They obviously had not been used for years. I assume a sports stadium had once occupied where the highway now passed, but money was saved by leaving the bleachers untouched. Our hotel was a modern place within walking distance of the Kurfurstendamm a street modeled after the Champs Elysees in Paris. Before dinner we meandered along the Kurfurstendamm; there were many people walking and the sidewalk cafes were full, but we did not feel crowded. Berlin is sized for a much larger population; the 3.5 million residents are engulfed by the wide streets, which feel empty. Almost immediately our eyes were caught by a broken church steeple towering over the neighboring buildings. Intrigued we walked for a closer look. At first we were not sure if the steeple had been designed to appear broken, but once we stood in its shadow it was clear that the church had taken direct hits during the bombing of Berlin. Only the portion of the cathedral supporting the damaged spire remained. The spire perched uncertainly on a foundation of blasted stone that was supported by a massive steel belt wrapping tightly and large steel i-beams jutting at various angles. It was a bit disconcerting to walk to the foot of this fiasco; I had the impression that the entire stone and steel edifice was about to topple. Later we learned that this was the Kaiser William Memorial Church that was left standing as a memorial to the damage caused by the bombing. An interesting first taste of Berlin, foreshadowing the focus of our remaining time in the city.

The next morning we had a delicious breakfast of croissants and pastries at a walk-up counter, then walked to the meeting place for a Berlin walking tour. Since Berlin is an overwhelming city, we decided it would be best to maximize our day by seeing the main sights through a tour. Our guide was an enthusiastic, young New Zealander, who was a 20th century historian (he was a great guide, the best of the excellent guides we had on our trip). I’ll copy the list of the sites we visited from the tour company website to document what we saw and then highlight the most interesting:

Brandenburg Gate
The Berlin Wall
Hitler's Bunker (stand above)
Site of Goebbels' bunker
The "Deathstrip"
Checkpoint Charlie
Nazi Air Ministry
Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe (Holocaust Memorial)
Reichstag Dome (new home of the Bundestag)
Pariser Platz (and site of new American Embassy)
Museum Island and Pleasure Garden (Lustgarten)
Pergamon Museum
Bebelplatz, scene of the Nazi Bookburning
Potsdamer Platz
Site of SS and Gestapo HQs (Topography of Terror)
"Ghost Station"
Palace Square (Schlossplatz)
Unter den Linden
New Synagogue
Red Town Hall
Royal Armoury (Zeughaus)
Russian Embassy
War Memorial (Neue Wache)
TV Tower
Berlin Cathedral
Catholic Cathedral (St. Hedwigs)
Friedrichstrasse (1920s cabaret mile!)
Humboldt University
State Opera
Gendarmenmarkt
Royal Hunting Grounds (Tiergarten)

We passed by numerous cathedrals and museums with classically impressive architecture. Berlin is spending money it doesn’t have to rebuild the city as it was before the WWII bombings leveled the majority of the city. Many of the buildings stand again as copies of the originals. There are still several projects underway, including the resurrection of a massive palace that was originally replaced by a modern structure. Staggering under the debt load of this architectural spree, the city has adopted the slogan “Poor, but sexy”.

The Unter den Linden is a broad, tree-lined street that begins at the symbolic heart of Berlin, the Brandenburg Gate, stretches past the modern international embassies, the renowned Humboldt University (which claims 29 Nobel Prize winners and where Hegel, Einstein, Max Planck, Karl Marx, and Frederich Engels studied), to the Museum Island where several world class museums are huddled in classic buildings. Across from the Humboldt University we stopped at the Bebelplatz to see a memorial to a Nazi bookburning that took place here. The memorial was underground; we looked through a cloudy plexiglass window in the cobblestones into a dimly lit room, painted white with empty book shelves as the walls.

We heard many stories about the Berlin Wall. There are still sections of the wall standing, in one place the wall has been protected by a wire fence to prevent Berliners from destroying it. Where it has been torn down there are bricks in the pavement marking where the wall once was. There were a few versions of the wall. The first was a short strip of wire fence and barbed wire that the East Germans built to test the response of the US. There was no response, other than to celebrate that Communism was in such dire straits that they needed to build walls to keep their people from leaving. Within a day or so the building of a more substantial wall made of concrete and stone began. Almost immediately there was a mass exodus of people to West Berlin. The first casualty of the Berlin wall was a women jumping from an upper floor of a building located along the wall. The wall was built through densely populated areas and initially buildings were part of the wall. But people began jumping through windows on the first floor to escape. So the first floor windows were bricked up. People moved to the 2nd story and started jumping. So the 2nd story was bricked up. People moved to the 3rd story and continued jumping. It was from here that an older woman died from injuries sustained in a fall from the 3rd story. Eventually the upper story windows were sealed as well.

One of the metro stops we passed was called the “Ghost Station” during the Cold War. When the wall divided the city the metro lines were also divided into East and West trains, but there were a few trains in the West that passed by stations in the East. The trains did not stop at these since no one was allowed to exit by the heavily armed guards standing watch, but the trains had to slow down for safety reasons while passing. The West Berliners could look through the windows at these Ghost Stations occupied only by guards.

Hitler’s bunker still exists in Berlin, despite numerous attempts to blow it up with explosives. To prevent Neo-Nazis from using the site as a place of honor the bunker has been closed off and visitors can only stand above it and read a small sign indicating the significance of the location. There was not even a sign until the soccer World Cup was in Germany a few years ago and the tourism office bowed to requests from the numerous visitors to identify the place. The bunker was fed by extensive tunnels leading to the ugly, blocky, gray Nazi administrative buildings.

One comment as an interlude to the heavy history, the crosswalk signs in Berlin are of tourist interest in their own right. They use little Dutchman to indicate walk and don’t walk: a briskly stepping green man in a Dutch hat with hand raised to indicate “walk” and a one-legged red man in a Dutch hat with hands extended straight out to indicate “don’t walk”. These are quite amusing and popular; there is various paraphernalia available, including actual replicas of the crosswalk sign.

We also passed by a tour company that gives tours in the infamous Trabant, the East German creation that resembles a car. I believe the Trabant is actually worth less than the sum of its parts and is a strong competitor for the worst transportation vehicle ever imagined. I will quote from a Time website which says it better than I can (http://www.time.com/time/specials/2007/article/0,28804,1658545_1658533_1658030,00.html):
“This is the car that gave Communism a bad name. Powered by a two-stroke pollution generator that maxed out at an ear-splitting 18 hp, the Trabant was a hollow lie of a car constructed of recycled worthlessness (actually, the body was made of a fiberglass-like Duroplast, reinforced with recycled fibers like cotton and wood). A virtual antique when it was designed in the 1950s, the Trabant was East Germany's answer to the VW Beetle — a "people's car," as if the people didn't have enough to worry about. Trabants smoked like an Iraqi oil fire, when they ran at all, and often lacked even the most basic of amenities, like brake lights or turn signals. But history has been kind to the Trabi. Thousands of East Germans drove their Trabants over the border when the Wall fell, which made it a kind of automotive liberator. Once across the border, the none-too-sentimental Ostdeutschlanders immediately abandoned their cars. Ich bin Junk!”

Our tour passed through the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, an intriguing, thought-provoking monument of square pillars of varying heights aligned in long rows in a large square area. The pillars were shorter at the outside and as you walked toward the center they gradually became taller until you could see only the sky above, the path in front, and periodically the side paths to your right and left. The feeling was one of disorientation and uncertainty, which was relieved as you progress towards the opposite side and reached the blocks shorter than you. I enjoy the interactive monuments and this was abstraction at its best; a creative use of art to simulate the confusion and helplessness of the Jews during this period.

After the tour ended, we walked to a memorial to the Berlin wall where you can still see the wall as it looked during the Cold War. The wall was actually two walls, one on the East, one on the West, with a “dead-zone in between wide enough to allow time for the guards to shoot runners or dogs to chase down border crossers. We peered through a slit in the wall into the dead-zone and climbed a tower to look down into this area.

From there, we returned to Checkpoint Charlie, which we had briefly visited on our walking tour. The museum at Checkpoint Charlie was a moving tribute to how far man will go to achieve freedom. There is still a large, white sign, with black, block letters stating that “YOU ARE ENTERING THE AMERICAN SECTOR” in English, German, and French. Checkpoint Charlie was the 3rd checkpoint between East & West (Checkpoint C after Alpha, Bravo, Charlie). The museum opened while the hostilities of the Cold War were at their height as a showcase for the elaborate schemes that were used to escape East Berlin. Located in full view of the wall, anyone could enter and see descriptions of tunnel digging, balloon flying, and hidden compartments in vehicles. Some of the most intriguing included a guy who invented a board with propellers attached that he held onto while it dragged him through the North Sea to Denmark. Upon arriving in Denmark he patented the invention, which is now used by the Marines in amphibious exercises. Another guy built an airplane on his kitchen table. He took a car engine, attached a body and foldable wings on the table. Then carried it outside to where he had enough room to take off and flew just far enough to cross the border.

Our day finished with a visit to the Reichstag building, a classically styled building with a modern dome above the rooms where the German parliament meets. Entrance is free, and after a short wait we were whisked by elevator to explore the dome accompanied by a modern audio guide that automatically described what we were seeing by sensing our location as we climbed the dome. As in Munich, government transparency is a theme of the dome. Visitors can look down through the opening into the room where the legislators debate. The glass dome is an exceptional example of attractive styling combined with functional features. The center of the dome is open to the air, and acts as a natural ventilator for the building. Mirrors arrayed on a central funnel direct sunlight down into the building. The pathways of the dome are creatively aligned to direct rain away from the rooms below. We had a great view of the city, including the massive Tiergarten (a large park) and the Frank Gehry designed DZ Bank building. Viewed from above, the glass and steel roof of the Gehry building looks like the tail of a whale rising above the sea. Earlier we had stepped inside the building to see the massive titanium sculpture “whale” that shields a conference room beneath. Gehry also designed the Astaire and Rogers Dancing House in Prague.

Our condensed visit to Berlin ended the next morning. We had seen the highlights, but Berlin is definitely deserving of an extended stay.

Flossenburg

Our journey took us east, to the German/Czech Republic border where we stopped at the concentration camp in Flossenburg. We were interested in stopping since this was the camp where Dietrich Bonhoeffer was executed, and were pleasantly surprised to find an absorbing museum housed in one of the remaining buildings. We walked through an intimidating gate house into a large gravel courtyard between long, white buildings. The museum was located in the one to the right, a thorough collection of describing in detail all aspects of the concentration camp, augmented with audio and video from survivors. The initial camps were working camps (the death camps came later and were located further east, mostly in Poland), built to produce something for the Reich. Flossenburg was a stone quarry. The intent was to extract stones for use in Hitler’s grand building plans. There is a certain skill required for quarrying stone of a quality good enough for building, but the Nazis did not focus on training the unskilled labor, so the stone from Flossenburg was only adequate for roads. The progression of inmates to Flossenburg demonstrated Hitler’s opinion of who was undesirable: the first wave was the criminals (murderers, thieves), a second wave brought in the political enemies of the Reich, and the final wave was the social outcasts (Gypsies, Jews, Homosexuals). Looking through blurry Nazi lenses, criminals were esteemed higher than political foes who were better than social outcasts. Often a criminal was given charge of a group of political enemies and outcasts; you can imagine how pleasant it would be to work with a murderer as your boss. In the basement we walked through the large, concrete block rooms where the unfortunate were deloused at first entry. Outside a path led down the hill to the crematorium, which still contained the furnace that was used. The majority of those who died were buried in the neighboring city; sad that the locals participated in carting the bodies out of the compound to the city cemetery. The furnace was put into use near the end of the war.

Rothenburg

Our hotel in Rothenburg was another family run affair. Located within the city walls (Rothenburg is a medieval city completely surrounded by a stone wall), this hotel had more of a ramshackle feel than the clean, country charm of the one in Salzburg. The furnishings in every room were made by the owner, including the beds. The rough finish and dark carpets exuded the 19th century. We dropped our bags and went for a stroll through town. Each of the towns we visited has architectural eye candy in all directions, but Rothenburg epitomizes a cute European city. The tourist money has been put to good use; the houses are in excellent condition, painted freshly in bright colors that appear to have been coordinated so that each street is a blaze of multiple hues. We walked to the main square, and craned our necks to look up at the clock. On the hour the doors on either side of the clock face open and reveal two figures, one of which woodenly tilts a mug towards his face. This charming display represents a legend of the mayor of the town preventing an army from invading by downing a mug of beer in one gulp. Cute story, but almost certainly a myth, and the clock charade is a recent addition to please tourists.

The next morning, breakfast was a heart-warming affair. There were others in the breakfast room munching happily, but we didn’t see a table with food, so after some standing uncertainty we assumed that someone must have served them and found a table in the corner against the windows. Sure enough, after a few minutes a gentleman with a bushy mustache greeted us and took orders for tea and coffee. Several minutes later he returned with a basket overflowing with a variety of breads and jellies, accompanied with pots of hot drinks. Simple and satisfying. We tore the bread while watched by a mustachioed head carved in wood on a post in the corner (looked disturbingly like our kindly host).

Our first activity was to walk the wall around the city. The wall has been rebuilt with tourist money through a brilliant marketing campaign. Individuals or businesses were able to sponsor the refurbishment of sections of the wall; stones carved with the names of the donors mark the number of feet that were paid for. The city is very popular with Japanese tourists; it was humorous to see that several feet of wall were sponsored by an international airport in Japan (making sure that the tourist destinations are in good condition to keep their planes filled). It was quite fun to stroll the wooden walkway, 10 feet from the ground, underneath a wooden roof, peaking through the vertical archer slits. At the southern gate there were extensive defense towers. A large circular tower had ramps to allow cannons to be pulled up by horses and arranged in a wide hall wrapping the tower for maximum effect. Near the main eastern gate we climbed a tall tower, up several stories of wooden stairs that zig-zagged through mostly empty space broken only by wooden floors stretched inside the square, stone tower. Above we were treated to fine views of the red-roofed homes, shouldering snuggly along the curving streets.

Leaving the wall on the north-west, we walked through town to the St Jacob’s church, stopping along the way for pictures of immaculate flower displays and interesting doors and windows. We did find one house that appeared to have been abandoned for some time, with dirty windows and junk piled high inside. St Jacob’s contains an intricate wood carving called the Altar of the Holy Blood. It shows the last supper, with Jesus giving Judas a piece of bread (Judas is prominent at the center of the arrangement, but his carving is removable and he is taken out of the display during particular times of the year). Outside the church we stopped for lunch on the outdoor patio of a nearby restaurant.

In the afternoon, dad and I visited a Crime and Punishment museum. This was a fabulous collection of historic and bizarre medieval artifacts. I found most interesting the descriptions of medieval punishments for minor crimes. There were funny masks that those who were rude or loud-mouthed would wear, pictorial demonstration of how a man and women would be allowed to fight to resolve a conflict (with the man in a hole up to his waist), the double neck violin that quarrelsome women would be put in face-to-face, and a description of “unroofing the house” which was done when a wife beat her husband, the husband was therefore not worthy of having a roof on his house. There was also an iron maiden, although in the opinion of the curators, the original iron maidens did not have spikes; they were simply a confined space. The spikes were said to be a dramatic addition long after the iron maiden was out of use. We also took a long walk through the valley below the city, passing by Toppler castle (more like a small house, elevated from the ground).
In the evening we joined a huge crowd following the Night Watchman tour, led by an appropriately dressed watchman carrying a wicked pickaxe. We thoroughly enjoyed hearing the history of the city from this colorful chap. The city of Rothenburg was only taken by force one time. The walls and elevated location were an effective barrier against hostiles. The only time that an attack was successful was when one of the Rothenburg soldiers entered the powder tower that was located in the wall with a lighted torch. Surrender was quick given the wide gap created in the defenses. Similar to Bruges, Belgium, Rothenburg was a wealthy city situated on critical trade routes in the middle ages. But eventually the position lost its value and the city was abandoned for hundreds of years before tourism brought it back to life.

Salzburg

Leaving Munich in the afternoon, we continued our drive to Salzburg. Our hotel was a family run affair outside of town. A friendly Austrian woman greeted us as we parked next to a barn and large house. Our room came with a balcony overlooking a grassy field that stretched far out to touch the toes of the Austrian Alps. We had time to catch the bus into the town center and look around. The old town is relatively small, squeezed between the river and the cliff, atop which a castle overlooks. Houses are built right into the cliff. The bus slowed to a crawl to fit through the old, stone gates that were designed for narrow carriages, and we exited along the river. Walking into town we passed the usual array of interesting shops and stopped at one with an extensive display of decorated eggs. Thousands of eggs painted in various themes crowded the counters. Further along we were in Mozartplatz, then ducked between arches into an opening with horses & carriages waiting for tourists. Around the corner was a group watching two men play chess with 5 foot tall pieces. We arrived in time to see the final few moves, in the shadow of a large, gold, Mozart chocolate ball (a piece of modern art). After a lap in one of the carriages showed us the fountains where horses drank and bathed, Mozart’s birthplace. The driver was a jovial fellow, who greeted us by asking “do you like football, I mean American football?” Apparently he is the one Austrian who follows American football and rambled about Tom Brady, the Patriots, the Eagles. Or at least he has studied football enough to have a conversation with tourists.

Breakfast the next morning was a delicious assortment of breads, meats, cheeses, boiled eggs, and fruit in small, but cute, dining room beneath a ceiling hung with a collection of tea pots. Our hosts served us personally, the woman returning on her bicycle with fresh bread from nearby. The first activity of the day was a Sound of Music tour. We were the first on “Bob’s” van, driven by a friendly English guide. Another group of 4 tourists climbed on at their hotel and we were on our way. Many of the scenes from the movie were shot in Salzburg. From what we were told by the guide, the basics of the movie are based on facts. Artistic license was taken with the songs (written by Rogers & Hammerstein) since the original songs were in German, and the mountain that they hiked over to escape would have led into Germany (they actually left on a train). The locals don’t understand the fascination with the movie and have failed to take full advantage of the tourist opportunities. The tour took us out into the countryside, up the narrow twisting mountain roads. We were able to dance next to the gazebo (since an old lady hurt herself dancing inside the gazebo tourists are not allowed inside), look across the lake to the house where scenes were shot on the patio, climb the stairs near the fountain where the kids sang, and enter the church where the wedding was held. One stop was a dry luge, where dad and I were pulled to the top of the hill on wheeled luges, then released to descend a twisting aluminum chute. Another was for a snack of cake and coffee at a café with a spectacular view over a lake surrounded by mountains. And on the way back to town the movie lovers in the group belted along to “Do, a deer…” and others from the soundtrack.

Rain arrived as we were enjoying the gardens near the Mirabel palace. We ducked inside Mozart’s residence to escape the wetness. The house is now a nice museum, displaying instruments Mozart used in surprisingly good condition. That evening we had dinner reservations at a nice hotel, followed by tickets to a Mozart violin concert in a marble room at the Mirabel Palace. Few things better than absorbing the melody of strings inside a small, high-ceiling, marble room while rain falls soundlessly outside. There were 5 musicians: 2 violins, 2 violas, and 1 cello. It was interesting to observe as the musicians played off one another. There was a lead violin that the rest followed, glancing over during key moments to get cues for the following segment. The violin and viola players switched chairs at intermission, allowing their colleague to lead the next set. Afterwards we ran, splashing through the garden to the bus stop. The cozy breakfast under the hanging teapots the next morning was our last Salzburg experience, and we reluctantly boarded the car for our next destination.

That evening we were planning to stay in the German town of Rothenburg od der Tauber. Before that we detoured a few minutes to meet Nathan Dietz and his family, who were vacationing near the Austria/German border. We found them in a small town near a mountain stream and then followed to a tourist village with an extensive collection of buildings in styles from over one hundred years ago. Most of the buildings had been relocated from other German cities (similar to the Greenfield village in Detroit). We traipsed through barns and houses for several hours, observing demonstrations of weaving on a massive loom, shaping wood shingles with an ax, before saying goodbye.

Munich

We left Schwangau destined for Salzburg, with a stop in Munich on the way. Our stay in Munich was short, just long enough to take a 3rd Reich walking tour. I had poor information on the tour starting time, we arrived at the meeting place under the glockenspiel after the tour had left. Fortunately there was someone from the tour company still there; he was nice enough to call the guide to find his location and direct us where to find the group. After a few laps and consternation we found the group; joining just in time to enter one of the beer halls where Hitler made his political start. German politics was conducted in large, noisy beer halls. To compete in this environment, you needed a forceful voice and a compelling message to distract those seated at the long tables from their beer and conversation. Quite a chaotic scene. Munich was where Hitler made his first attempts to seize political power. His first coup landed him in prison. He and his supporters crashed through several police barricades before being stopped. Hitler spent several months in prison during which he wrote Mein Kampf. During the hostilities several men on both sides were killed. When Hitler was in power he had a monument to his followers who were killed placed in the plaza where the fighting ended. People walking by were required to salute the statue. To avoid this, many took a small side street around the memorial, which came to be known as “dodger’s alley”. Now the monument has been removed and there is a plaque on the ground commemorating the policeman who died stopping Hitler’s coup. History is written by the winners.

Since WWII, government transparency has been a theme in Germany. The government administration building in Munich was destroyed during the bombings and was rebuilt in a modern style with glass walls and glass ceilings. Emphasizing that politics should be debated in the open. In front of this building there is a WWI memorial that shows a German soldier reposing with his rifle. He is only asleep and has a serene expression, with hands clasped around the gun. The Germans fully expected to rebound from WWI and fight another day. Around the corner we stopped in view of a classically ugly Nazi building, all squares and plain gray stone. This had housed a Nazi art museum, filled with paintings and sculpture of Aryans prancing naked on horseback through gardens and forests. Hideously ugly “art”. During the several years the museum was open less than a couple hundred people visited. But when the museum was opening, the Renaissance art that was being replaced was displayed in the park nearby for a few days. Millions of people came in these few days to see the classically beautiful and creative artwork, thinking it was the last time they would ever see it. This was one of the few ways that people could safely show there true feelings without risking the wrath of the secret police. Nearby is a small memorial to the White Rose society, a group of students from the University of Munich who published 6 pamphlets opposing the Nazi regime. The members were executed by decapitation in 1943. Public opposition was rare for this exact reason: the Nazi machine was efficient and ruthless in killing those opposed. We also visited the building where Hitler would greet world leaders. Inside the entry a long, straight staircase dominates the foyer. Hitler would stand at the top of the stairs looking down on his guest. A nearby house is where Hitler spent time schmoozing with the local business leaders to gain monetary support. Without the financial support of business Hitler would have had difficulty reaching the critical mass required to lead Germany. A short walk brought us to an open plaza surrounded by Greek style buildings where Hitler would march his troops. At that time the area was covered in concrete, the better to accentuate the sound of tramping Nazi boots.

Of course, Munich has much more to offer than this. We would have liked to stay longer than our 2 hour tour.

Neuschwanstein Castle

We drove far enough to enter Germany and stay the night in Stuttgart. Thursday we drove south toward the Austrian border, stopping to see the castles of “Screwy Louie”, the doctor certified insane king. Our reservation was for two castles: Hohenschwangau, where Ludwig II spent his childhood, and Neuschwanstein, built by Ludwig to honor the opera composer Richard Wagner. Ludwig lived in the unfinished Neuschwanstein for about 100 days. His doctor declared him clinically insane and within a few days both Ludwig and the doctor turned up dead in a German lake. Nothing has been proven, but the suspicion is that Ludwig killed the doctor and committed suicide. The castle is very impressive, despite significant portions of Ludwig’s plans never being finished, and inspired the Sleeping Beauty Castle at Disneyworld. Both castles are in immaculate condition, with plenty of “wow, look at that” views. We hiked the trail behind Neuschwanstein to the Marienbrucke (Mary’s bridge), a skinny, steel, arch hundreds of feet above a water fall with a great view of the castle. The trail continued into the mountains, unfortunately time did not allow further exploration. That night we stayed in Schwangau, a nearby town within view of the castle. It was quite nice to sit in the balcony of our room with the mountains framing the “Disneyland castle”. The town was interesting to my parents since the cows and horses were kept in barns inside the town. The houses are close together, as is typical in Europe, and every so often a barn is shoehorned.

Meuse-Argonne American WWI Cemetery

We were now ready to begin the “road trip”. Wednesday morning we departed, not to return to Orleans until 10 days later. Our first stop after a few hours of driving was the Meuse-Argonne American Cemetery for WWI. We brought with us the location of the cross marking the gravesite of a relative, John C. Nissly. Once we were close enough the road signs led us to the cemetery. Along the way we stopped for lunch in a small town, picnicking in the grass around a stone church. Just outside the town we noticed what looked like a Pennsylvania war memorial. Curious, we circled back to investigate. In the town of Varennes, the state of Pennsylvania had built a memorial in 1927 to the troops who served in the “Great War”. Interesting. This was to be a recurring theme on the trip. Many towns in France and Germany contain reminders of the wars, either through memorials or shattered buildings that have not been rebuilt. Before continuing to the cemetery, we stopped for water and snacks at a grocery store, including a sweet egg white concoction. The white and pink sugar balls would last us for several days.

We were not disappointed by the cemetery. The Meuse-Argonne is the largest American cemetery in Europe. The groundskeepers were hard at work when we arrived; not surprising since the landscape was immaculate. After gawking at the vast sea of white crosses bordered by well-groomed trees, we navigated to the Nissly cross. It was emotional for my dad. He had heard the stories about John from his mother who was impressed by the young man in his uniform. John C. Nissly, Cook, 313 Ammo Train, 88 Division. We took our time and meandered up the hill to the bunker-looking chapel. Then down the curving driveway, up the hill opposite to the visitor’s center, before returning to the car.

Mont St Michel & D-day Beaches

The next 2 days were our first extended foray afield, destination Mont St Michel in Brittany and the D-day beaches in Normandy. Mont St Michel is an enormous monastery built on a rocky island in the middle of the ocean. The road built to reach the island has blocked the natural water flows, so the area is filling up with sand, but at one time it was a remote and nearly unreachable locale. The English tour was excellent, although our guide was constantly perturbed by the warblings of tourist kids and interjected several times to shush the rabble. The building had been used as prison in the last century, but most of the damage done by inmates has been repaired. We were able to walk down to the sand at the base of the island and hike completely around the rocky outcropping.

The next day we left early from our hotel in Caen to visit the American Cemetery near Omaha beach, Pont du Hoc, Arromanches, and the WWII museum in Caen. The American Cemetery has a small room downstairs that houses a great museum. Once again I cried during the films describing the personal details of a few of the soldiers. There was some sort of WWII group meeting on Omaha beach near where we walked into the ocean. Jeeps and trucks from that era were zipping across the sand and in the water. At Pont du Hoc the craters pockmark the ground where the Allies dropped their largest bombs to knock out the German guns. Looks like a moonscape, with grass. It is remarkable to see the steep cliffs where the rangers climbed to destroy the remaining guns on D-day. Arromanches is where an artificial harbor was built to unload the troops and supplies that would allow the Allies to continue the push inland. The intention had been to use the harbor a Cherborg, but it was too damaged. So an ingenious floating harbor was built that allowed the Allies to unload equipment continuously in high or low tides. We saw a well done film shown on a 360 degree screen that interspersed actual footage from the battles with scenes of how the towns and streets look today. To finish the day, my dad and I visited the WWII museum in Caen, while Shereen and mom went to Bayeux to see lace being made.

Two Week Roadtrip Begins: Versailles & Paris

One of the highlights of this past year in France was the opportunity to share two weeks with my parents as we took an extended road trip through France, Germany, Austria, Holland, and Belgium. We enjoyed planning to see things they would enjoy, as well as visiting areas that Shereen and I had not been to. Here’s a recap of the itinerary, highlights to follow: Orleans, Versailles, Paris (Louvre, St. Chapelle, Notre Dame, Arc de Triomphe, Eiffel Tower), Mont St. Michel, Normandy D-day beaches, Meuse-Argonne WWI cemetery, Neuschwanstein castle, Munich, Salzburg, Rothenberg, Flossenberg concentration camp, Berlin, Haarlem, Amsterdam, Bruges.

The first challenge would be the flight over the Atlantic. My mother does not like flying and neither of my parents had flown to another continent before. They arrived on a Friday morning; I worked while Shereen picked them up at the airport. It had not been a fabulous flight, mom got sick on the way back to Orleans. Our strategy was to take things easy until they recovered from jet lag, but they did have enough energy to walk into Orleans with Shereen and get lunch from a sandwich counter. I arrived that evening to eat the remaining Pizza Hut slices.

Saturday we tentatively planned to visit Versailles, if the travelers were up to it. By late morning everyone seemed to be fine, so we drove to Versailles for the afternoon. Our arrival was poorly timed to avoid waiting in line, and we had the pleasure of experiencing French efficiency at the ticket counter. Inside the door the line split in two, the vast majority going to the left, and a short line going to the right. Unfortunately we chose the right. With only 10 people between us and the ticket counter, we waited for over 30 minutes. It was extremely frustrating to see several people who had been behind us, but chose the line to the left, entering the palace well before us. We never figured out why the line was so slow; it may have been that the wrong employee was behind the counter. The tour consists of the palace and the extensive gardens. We found the gardens to be the most enjoyable. Inside the palace the rooms are elaborately decorated, the highlight being the Hall of Mirrors, where the Treaty of Versailles was signed after WWI. After meandering through the rooms listening to the audio guide we found some food at a café before entering the gardens. The gardens are HUGE, a bicycle is almost a necessity. The weather was nice and we acted like royalty on an afternoon stroll, with the fountains spurting in time to music. Statues guard the walkways, which divert in geometric patterns: here rectangles, there circles, behind triangles, and lead to hidden theaters with more fountains and more statues. About the midpoint we were near the fountain where a god of the sea in his chariot is being pulled out of the water by dramatically charging horses. Beyond this was a large reflecting pool with rental boats guided by tourists splashing their paddles, surrounded by a grassy expanse covered with tourists picnicking and enjoying the sun. After running into a dead end we were able to find Marie Antoinette’s house at the back of the garden (at this point we were exhausted from the walking), cute but not spectacular. Before returning we joined the crowd by the reflecting pool to rest.

Since the jet lag recovery was going better than expected, we upped the ante on Sunday and went for the Paris one day tour. Shereen had no interest in fighting the crowds to see already seen sites, so she stayed in Orleans. The Louvre was the first stop in the morning. This was my 3rd time to the museum, so I had a good idea of where to go. The Louvre is far too extensive to see everything in one day; the best plan is to go straight to the most interesting things and then see how much energy you have left. To avoid the hordes, we got in line before the museum opened and then made a beeline for the Mona Lisa to get there before having to elbow others out of the way. In my opinion the Mona Lisa is one of the least impressive objects at the Louvre. Yes, it is a nice painting, but you can get a far better look at her on the internet. In the museum she is isolated on a partition wall, a pane of glass shielding her, with a roped semicircle allowing us to approach no closer than 20 feet. And the painting is small. Within the same room, a much more interesting painting is the Wedding Feast at Cana, which covers almost the entire wall opposing the Mona Lisa. In the halls nearby are the massive paintings by Delacroix, David, and others. One of my favorites is a two-sided painting standing in the middle of the aisle, showing David wrestling with Goliath from the front and back. From here we walked to the Venus de Milo, passing the equally impressive Winged Victory of Samonthrace, and after through the rows of mummy cases in the Egypt section, stopping at the tall, black stone Code of Hammurabi, then more statues including one of my favorites Milo Crotana (Milo, attempting to show his strength, has his hand stuck in a tree trunk while a lion attacks him; the lions claws are leaving impressions in his legs as they tear the flesh), and finally the extravagant chandeliers and over decorated furniture of Napoleon’s apartments. We had seen less than half of the museum in over 3 hours, but had seen quite enough to be satisfied.

From the Louvre, it is a pleasant walk along the Seine to the Île de la Cité, a small island in the middle of the river where Notre Dame and St Chapelle cathedrals are located. While waiting for the English tour of St Chapelle we walked to Notre Dame, stopping to see the birds and flowers at the outdoor market. The canary’s make quite a racket. Notre Dame is a typical European cathedral, imposing and gray. Having seen something similar in almost every town we visited, I found it of little interest. But I was very interested in returning to St Chapelle, one of my favorites, for my second visit. We entered the church through the peasant’s entrance into the common people’s chapel. This is the first floor of the church, a long narrow room with low ceilings. The commoners were not to associate with royalty; they worshipped in this muted environment while the king prayed in the spectacular chapel on the second floor. Narrow spiral staircases lead up and out into a brightly colored room. Here the walls stretch to the high ceiling, the gothic architecture allowing maximum room for the spectacular colored glass. The glass seems to cover the entire wall and the room is a feast for the eyes as the sun blazes outside. The difference with the usual gray stone of other cathedrals is dramatic. And the glass panels contain stories from the Bible. Starting with Genesis, where we can see Cain clubbing Abel and Noah with a golden cow in his ark, you can work your way around the room moving through the Bible. Not all of the books are included, some of the Apocrypha is shown and medieval history and legend also intervenes, but fascinating nonetheless. In my opinion, more interesting than most cathedrals, despite its relatively small size.

Then into the metro to visit the Arc de Triomphe, which we circled before walking down the Champs Elysses a short distance. It was getting late, time to see the Eiffel Tower. Popping out of the metro near the tower we found a place to eat. The wait staff found it quite humorous as our embarrassed waiter talked with us in passable English. The tower almost never disappoints visitors and we were no different. We ascended and stayed on the observation deck to watch the sunset. Then arrived back on the ground to see the light displays dance on the steel structure.