Day 12, Boat Tour of Koenigssee; Cable Car to Jenner Summit (11 May 2009)

Monday morning started with twilight, at least when the alarm went. Koenigssee is in a very narrow valley, with high mountains both to the east and west, so "sunrise" is actually quite late. But we got up at our usual time (7:30 a.m.) and looked out onto the tranquil lake and the docks from which the boats leave for the trip up and down the lake. After breakfast we headed off to the docks a few metres away, bought our tickets for both lake and mountain (a combination ticket that lets you travel to the furthest end of Koenigssee and back, and also take the cable cars up to the summit of the Jenner mountain (the latter any day within the season), at a modest saving over the individual fares.

We left on the second of the boats to travel up the lake to the furthest away (south) landing for the short walk to Obersee, a small Alpine lake which is one of the sources of water for Koenigssee (and a note on the name, King’s Lake is the literal translation Koenigssee, but apparently the original name in Middle German was Kunigsee, Kunig’s (a local person) Lake). The lake is about 7.7 km long, at it’s widest about 1.7 km (just about a mile), and has an average depth of just short of 100m, with a maximum depth of about twice that. Basically, the lake is a flooded alpine valley, between the Jenner mountain on the east, and the Watzman range on the west. That said, it is also probably the most beautiful lake in Germany, if not in much of Europe; and certainly some of the views on this lake are the most painted and photographed views in German tourism.

The boats on this lake are probably unique. Since 1909, most of the boat travel on this lake has been electrically driven, to preserve the purity of the water (today only emergency boats, and those used for official business, such as border patrols, are allowed to use gasoline motors, and those are strictly checked for emissions and oil leakage). Thus the tour boats, carrying perhaps 60 to 100 passengers, are almost totally silent, and non-polluting. They have enough batteries for a day’s operation, and are charged overnight. (And as the on-board guide cheerfully explained, because everything below where you sit is effectively lead-acid batteries, they are very stable in modest waves; on the other hand, if they ever get swamped by higher waves they will sink like a rock - so pay attention while I tellyou where the life-jackets are!)

As the boat carries on up the lake (south, towards Austria), at the widest part of the lake, the boat comes to a stop, and the guide on board plays a slow tune on a trumpet, which is echoed back from both sides of the lake; on a day with perfect conditions one can hear two or three echoes. Usually it is one or two. After that it is customary to tip the guide, perhaps 50 Euro cents or a bit more! Unless there is a requested stop at one of the hiking trail heads (a request from someone on the boat, or a flag hung by someone on shore who wants to be picked up) the first scheduled stop is the pilgimage chapel of St. Bartholomae (St. Bartholomew), probably right up there as one of the most painted and photographed spots on earth. We chose to continue on to Obersee before getting off.

At Obersee, it is a short, about 10 minutes, walk to the interior lake, about a square kilometre in size, that is one of the feeds of water to Koenigssee. At the far end, visible but not accessible because the trail was still unsafe after Winter, is an almost 500 metre waterfall of glacial and snow-melt water feeding this lake, which then feeds Koenigssee. The scene is almost stereotypical (ie. unreal!) in its mountain scenery beauty.

After the walk to Obersee and back to the landing we took the next boat to St. Bartholomae. The chapel itself is quite plain, and on our visit the outside was marred by scaffolding because some of the roofing was being repaired, but nevertheless it has been the goal of many pilgrims over more than 200 years.

After visiting the chapel, our plans were simpler - have lunch!

Easier said than done - looking at the menu posted on large chalkboards all around the only restaurant at this site, we chose Muenchener Weisswurst, etc. (Munich white sausage, a veal sausage, seasoned and spiced, usually boiled and served with a bun, or kraut, or potato salad). No way our waiter said, it is past noon ( 12:05 p.m., to be precise) and you cannot serve weisswurst after noon. That is the folktale, in Munich, that weisswurst has (have?) to be consumed before they hear the noon church bells. They ignore that in Munich; I have had weisswurst for supper there! But, here on the Koenigssee, they obviously took the rule seriously (my cynical side is suspicious, what are they going to do with the left-over weisswurst; my guess is, serve it the next day, before noon!)

But, rule of travel in Germany, don’t argue with a German waiter, they rule, so we ordered something else.

One of the unavoidable views, it occupies about half the view westward, at St. Bartholomae is the Grosser Watzman Ostwand (the great Watzman East face), all 2000 vertical metres of it. The Watzman mountain range forms much of the western boundary of Koenigssee. There are nine peaks, two of them quite a bit larger than the other seven, and one of these two much larger than the other. Named, they are the Grosser Watzman, the Kleiner Watzman, and the seven Watzman Toechter. (Literally, the larger Watzman, the smaller Watzman, and the Watzman daughters.) Before I go on, note that the Watzman East face is a very challenging climb, and to date (May 15, 2009) has killed 99 climbers (no doubt someone out there is preparing to be #100).

That brings up the Watzman legend. The Watzman family (father, wife, and seven daughters) was said to be a local monarchy, or lord of the manor, or whatever. They were very impious, and after being challenged by God to at least stop bowling on Sunday, and refusing to do so, they were turned into stone. But, they continue to bowl, as can be heard whenever a thunderstorm is growling in the mountain range.

And, after that excursus, and after lunch, we took the next boat back to Koenigssee, and a pit-stop at our (very convenient) hotel. Then on to the Jennerbahn, the cable car system that goes nearly to the Jenner peak, on the north side of Koenigssee.

The Jenner is nearly 1900 m high, and the cable car system takes you from the Koenigssee parking lot to perhaps 100 m from the peak, to the mountain station, which claims to have the highest self-service restaurant in Germany (questionable, or at least debateable - there is a buffet on the Zugspitze, and a self-serve patio, at almost 3000 m.) However, the cable car with its two-person gondolas is a remarkable engineering achievement. It is in two parts, with a middle switching station. In skiing season it is possible to purchase a ticket to either the middle or the summit, with the middle station allowing acces to easier ski slopes, while from the summit one accesses more challenging slopes. Both are served by other smaller lifts, chairlifts and tows, so that one can ski an entire day from one of these two altitudes, and then return to the valley by the main gondola lift.

At the middle station there is an almost 90 degree change in direction of the cable car system, and depending on one's ticket, the system either directs you to an area where you can exit the gondola, or it switches your car onto the next cable section, which takes you up a much steeper slope to the summit station. The whole ride, from valley to summit, takes about 30 minutes, and is quite beautiful, scenically.

There is a good view from the summit station's balcony which wraps around about 270 degrees, but for the full view one has to proceed on foot, up a path that goes about 100 or so metres higher. June doesn't "do" slopes, so I went on alone. It's not a difficult climb, but at this time of the year some of the path is still snow-covered, and one has to proceed carefully, as there is a rather steep slope on one side, and the mountain face on the other. The last 10 or so metres are up stairs cut into the rock, and then a few more feet of scrambling up rocks takes one to the very peak, with it's customary cross. The view is staggering. Northward, one can see the Chiemsee, Germany's largest lake, with sail boats quite visible. Eastwards one sees Berchtesgaden, the Salzberg with Kehlsteinhaus at the top (Hitler's Eagles' Nest) and beyond into Austria one can see Salzburg. Southward the Koenigssee is spread out more than 1000 m below, and in the distance is the Steinere Meer (the Stone Ocean), a part of the Austrian Alps that looks like the waves of the ocean, complete with white-caps. And to the east, bordering the lake, is the full Watzman range, with the higher peaks considerable above one's level on this mountain. It is well worth the extra effort of the climb up.

Walking back down to the peak station, I joined June who had found a small bottle of wine at the buffet, picked up a beer for myself, and we just enjoyed the view and the crows who fly at this level, trying to steal food from the visitors' plates. And then, the cable car trip in reverse, back to the valley level.

By then it was later afternoon, but still enough time to drive to the western side of the Watzman range, into a valley which has a small lake and town, both called Hintersee (Back Lake). It's largely unknown, and very pretty. The Watzman mountains are much less imposing on this side, and hikers in good shape can walk most of the way to the peaks. The lake is very pretty, and is a fishing destination, having both lake trout and fresh-water salmon. And, there are conveniently located lake-side hotels with restaurants serving both, to one of which we went for supper.

We started out on the patio, but as often happens in the mountains, an early evening thunderstorm moved in, and we finished a very fine meal of salmon inside. By the time we were finished the shower was also, and we drove back to our hotel in the gathering dusk just in time to get inside when the thunderstorm started there. From our balcony we watched the downpour and lightening flashes, and then a small drama began as a mountain rescue boat, an ambulance boat, and a water police boat roared up the lake (emergency boats are allowed gasoline power, and these moved!). We waited a while, but nothing came back, and we never did find out whether this was an actual emergency such as a hiker or climber in trouble, or a training exercise.

And so to bed, to rest up for the morrow.

Day 11; Drive through Altmuehltal, via Weltenburg to Koenigssee (10 May 2009)

This was supposed to have been a leisurely Sunday drive.

The Altmuehltal (Old Mill River valley) is reputed to be one of the last unspoiled river valleys in Germany. Beginning a few dozen kilometres south of Nuernberg, it winds its way through central Bayern (Bavaria; actually Niederfranken - lower Franconia) ending near the Danube valley and Weltenburg monastery, at the Danube gorge (Donau Durchbruck). It was the plan to follow this valley to Weltenburg, and then go more or less directly to Koenigssee. I'd programmed the route, that is the succession of towns, into my GPS, which had the "latest" German maps installed - latest is in quotes because sometimes we wondered just how latest latest was, since the GPS map didn't know about some roundabouts, one-way streets, or no entry streets (more comments on GPS navigation later!).

Life is what happens while you make plans!

The valley is indeed very beautiful, and the towns scattered along the Altmuehl river are quaint and very pretty. At least the first third. Somewhere after that, just as I was looking at the GPS to get a hint of how the next bit of road curved, it went blank. Dead as a doornail, nothing would bring it back to life.

But, not to worry; the rental car had a GPS installed - except that a year ago Scott and I had the same model of Mercedes-Benz, and never did figure out how to work the GPS. This year was somewhat easier, as the manual for the radio/CD/DVD/MP3/GPS unit was actually in the car, but written in extremely dense and obscure German - not my forte. Nevertheless, I was able to, eventually, persuade this machine to take us to Weltenburg (forget about the valley tour) and it did.

[However, I now understand why most gurus advise against in-car GPS units; relative to the portable units they are clunky, and sometimes almost non-functional. Unlike the unit that I use, which always shows a map of the nearby roads, this in-car unit basically showed an arrow pointing straight up, so long as you were to follow the road you were on - no matter how much that road curved (you were supposed to know the name/road #/whatever and follow it). The verbal directions were basic; turn in some direction, with no text-to-speech using street names or highway numbers that the portable units have. We did get there, eventually, but there is no way that any future car that I might purchase offering an in-car GPS would persuade me to lay out the three to four times cost of a very high-end hand-held GPS for the built-in. They get you there, maybe, but not nearly as conveniently as portable units. Plus, the software in the portables can be easily updated at no cost from a home computer (a simple USB plug-in) and maps can be updated the same way for relatively modest cost versus the several hundred dollars for a new map CD for the built-ins. I suppose the software updates could be done by a dealer, but presumably at a cost.]

And so, we eventually arrived at Weltenburg, in the early afternoon. You have to park about a km away from the monastery, and then walk along the Donau (Danube). Along the way there is a car/people ferry, that last year didn't operate. This year, we were able to watch this passive ferry, run totally on water power while tethered to an overhead cable and with a skilled steersman, ferry people from one side of the river to the other, without any motor or other source of power.

Weltenburg monastery itself is an Augustinian house, noted for having the oldest continually operating monastic brewery in the world. It also has a very beautiful church, which is mostly for visitors; the monks have their own chapel which is not accessible to tourists, where they get on with their own worship, rather than becoming another tourist display. There is a very large outdoor restaurant, run by civilians, which serves excellent food and the above noted beer.

Before eating said food and drinking said beer, we went down to the river (Danube) and hired one of the several boats ready to take you on a ride through the Danube gorge. Very scenic! Worth the price.

After lunch, we programmed our hotel at Koenigssee (near Berchtesgaden) into the in-car GPS, specified fastest route, and set off. And therein lies the (eventually very expensive) problem!

Koenigssee (a town and a lake) are very near Berchtesgaden, both in a little corner of south-east Germany that juts into Austria, near Salzburg. Berchtesgaden is connected to Salzburg by a very good road, even if it is a Bundesstrasse with much of it limited to 60 km/hr. The problem this creates is that a GPS, programmed to take you to Koenigssee by the fastest route will avoid some of the secondary roads totally within Germany, as they will go through a number of towns with 50 km/hr speed limits, and instead route you on the Autobahn to Salzburg, then back to Berchtesgaden. This would not be a problem except that Austria has a toll for non-Austrian registered vehicles using its Autobahn system (only the Autobahn, not any other roads). I knew this, and was happy to pay the toll (about $13 for 10 days), when I realized that the GPS was routing us through Salzburg.

Except, there seemed to be no way to pay it. The Autobahn simply went into Austria, no toll booths, no toll plaza, none of the things we North Americans associate with toll roads. I even went off the Autobahn, through a vast number of transport trucks all waiting to get back on the road (they are not allowed on highways on weekends in Germany or Austria - praise the Lord! Why can’t we do that?) searching for a way to pay the toll. Eventually, I was back on the road leading to Berchtesgaden, and lo, there was a check-point; a van, two pseudo-police (they actually work for the equivalent of the department of highways) who waved me over, told me that I was in violation of the toll requirement, and that would be Euro 120 ($200, give or take), please and thank you. I tried to explain that I had tried to find the toll booth/plaza/whatever, and was told that everyone knew that you bought the sticker indicating you had paid the toll at the Autobahn gas station(!), in Germany(!), right at the till where you paid for gas, chocolate bars, and anything else(!), just before you crossed the border. I suggested that obviously not everyone knew, since I didn’t, which just prompted another demand that I cough up Euro 120.- I didn’t want to find out what the "or else" was, so I coughed. My polite comment that the system wasn’t very friendly to people who obviously were visitors, didn’t know how the toll payment system worked, and had tried to pay but made an honest mistake was met with an equally polite German equivalent, with a charming Austrian accent, of "tough noogies!" and an assurance that with my receipt for the fine I was free to drive anywhere I wanted in Austria until midnight the following day!

Reviewing the entire event, the lack of signage explaining how the toll system worked (in any language), and the carefully chosen location of the check-point (a van, two cops at probably not a bad rate of pay, just after you left the area where you might possibly figure it out, get back to the gas station, and pay), the whole set-up reeks of a money-maker - no jurisdiction is going to put out that sort of resources to punish a non-criminal activity unless it more than pays for itself. I am still working on a letter to the appropriate Austrian authorities, protesting this whole set-up; it won’t change anything, but I’ll feel better for having vented.

[Comment inserted later : Over the next eight or nine days we drove into Austria quite a lot, with extensive distances on the Autobahns. Nowwhere else did we encounter this kind of check-point, nor for that matter any other police presence, checking the toll stickers. Which makes me think even more that this was the Austrian equivalent of the speed-traps on the route south to Florida that Canadians who make that trip complain about.]

[To be fair to Austria, I have no problem with them charging a toll for using their high-speed highways. Austria is a small country, their consumption taxes (VAT) are lower than Germany, and somebody has to pay for highways. If you look at a map, anyone in Germany or north of there, travelling to Italy or anywhere east for holidays or whatever, has to go through Austria. So why not collect a toll for the use of their (generally very good) highways from those who don’t pay Austrian taxes? That said, Germany has virtually the same problem; anyone from Scandinavia going south for a holiday has to travel through Germany, and are not charged a toll, nor are Austrians driving into Germany charged.]

Well, that took a long time to get off my chest! After settling up with the toll extortionist police (slap on wrist, Gerry, for not appreciating the valuable work these guys do to protect Austrian roads from free-loaders like you) we headed on to Berchtesgaden, and Koenigssee, arriving there just at about 6 p.m. A very bad time to arrive, as the road to the hotel we were booked into is also the road that hundreds of day-trippers who were out on the lake take to get back to their cars. Walking-tempo driving only, but we did get to and into the Hotel Koenigssee, in a room with a balcony looking directly at the lake and the mountains surrounding it, one of only six rooms with such a view!

One not great note about this hotel; as I’ve mentioned before, I use hotel.de to book accommodation, and in the room description of this location they claim "Internet". What this turns out to be is a terminal in a public room; from the security point of view you’d have to be crazy to use this for anything other than checking the weather. There was no other Internet connectivity available, although several secure wireless networks were within range. (I intend to have a separate post about the general issue of Internet availability in small hotels in Germany later.)

Day 10; The Nuernberg Tiergarten (Zoo) (9 May 2009)

This was a relaxing Saturday!

After sleeping in 30 minutes longer, and the usual ample breakfast, we headed of to Murk, to shop! June ended up getting a lot more dresses, skirts and blouses than me (actually, I got no dresses, skirts and blouses) but I did get a very nice leather vest, and a casual summer sports jacket in a bleached canvas-like fabric.

Then into Nuernberg, to the zoo.This is a place very familiar to me from my childhood, but the last time I visited was in (I think) 1979. I still think it is one of the better zoos in the world.In the south-east of Nuernberg, it is readily accessible on the public transit streetcar net, and if you arrive by car there is ample and free parking. From the parking lots it is a pleasant walk through a mature forest to the entrance.

A bit of back-story on this zoo. Build in the 1930's as a replacement for an earlier zoo, it is located in an area of old quaries from which came the sandstone used to build most of mediaeval Nuernberg. These cover several square miles, and the actual quarries have been used to create animal enclosures that look very natural. All the grounds are covered with mature mixed forests, and so the entire impression is one of seeing animals in their natural habitat. We only had an afternoon, so we probably only walked less than 1/3 of the trails among the exhibits. Nothing exotic or unusual enough that you wouldn't see at the Metro (Toronto) Zoo, except perhaps the now 1 year old polar bear cub Flocke (Snowflake), but the setting is much less artificial.

Another difference, food, and drink is available at several places within the zoo, and none of it is fast-food (eg. no McDonald’s!) and the prices and quality are what you would expect at any other (German) restaurant. One other difference; the food and drink are served on real plates, in real glasses, with real cutlery, and there is a substantial deposit on these. When you are finished eating, you return your china, glasses and cutlery, and you get your deposit back. A neat way of ensuring civilized dining, without incurring excessive costs.

After the zoo, we headed back to Pommersfelden, to the Hotel "Gruener Baum" and had a very excellent meal of "bio" food, ie. food that has no hormonal additives nor chemical pesticides used in its growing, and a very pleasant conversation with our hosts, the Hofmann's, whose family has run this hotel for over 500 years. Then to pack up, in preparation for tomorrow's drive south, and sleep.

Day 9; Nuernberg and the Opera (8 May 2009)

We headed into Nuernberg (only about 40 km from our hotel to city centre, and most of that by Autobahn) fairly early, parked at the Sterntor parking garage (just inside the walls of the old city, and very near the opera house). Headed directly to the opera house, to buy two tickets to the evening performance of Verdi’s Aida; got very good tickets at a very reasonable price at the very front of the centre of the 1st balcony.

After that we went on an extensive walk-about,, following the city walls west and then north-ward until we came to the Pegnitz river which divides the old city into two roughly equal parts. We walked along the river, back and forth across the many bridges as needed, to the eastern city wall. Going beyond the wall, one goes underneath a very busy multi-lane city road into the Woerther Wiese (the Woerth meadows, and also a lake), a green "lung" in the modern city of Nuernberg. For Wagner fans, it is on this meadow that the 3rd Act of "Die Meistersinger von Nuernberg" is located. (The other two Acts are also located along the Pegnitz river – Act 1 in the Katherinenkirche [St. Katherine's Church], now a ruin but partially restored, Act 2 in Hans Sachs’ cobbler shop – now a restaurant – and the surrounding streets.)

Back into the old city, north of the river. June asked how I knew the directions to go – it’s very simple (for a native, which I guess I am); as long as you can see one of: the towers of the Lorenzkirche (St. Laurence Church), Sebalduskirche (St. Sebald’s Church), or the Kaiserburg (imperial castle), you know precisely where you are in the narrow, winding streets of this medieval city.

After walking past the Hans Sachs statue, in front of the upscale restaurant (called "Hans Sachs & Soehne" - Hans Sachs & Sons) that is now on the site of his cobbler shop we went north-ward into the market square in front of the Frauenkirche (Church of our Lady); the vendors are there daily, selling produce, at this time of the year much of it local from greenhouses, but also some early vegetables; (fruits at this time of the year are imported - one of the benefits of the European Union). Also in this square is the "Schoene Brunnen" - the Beautiful Fountain, a very ornate, tall stone-carving that has been painted and gilded, covered with biblical and historical figures. (This survived the 2nd World War only because a concrete enclosure was built around it, and then filled with sand!) In the fence around the fountain there is a brass ring held by three iron "fingers" with round passages for the ring. Neither the ring nor the fingers holding it show any evidence of a joint; making it difficult to understand how the ring was inserted. The story is that a smith's apprentice fell in love with his master's daughter, but was told that he would only be allowed to marry her if he could perform a work of smithing that the master could not reproduce. The ring is the result, the two married, and we assume lived happily ever after (or a la Brothers Grimm - if they didn't die, they're still alive today!). Today, it is considered to bring good luck to turn the ring three times while making a wish - world peace did not break out, but I have the picture!

From the fountain it is only a few short steps to the Bratwursthaeusle for lunch - you can't visit Nuernberg and not eat Nuernberger bratwuerste. About the size of a man's little finger, 6 or 8 with potato salad and some sauerkraut make a nice-sized meal, or you can have "Drei im Weggla" - three-in-a-bun from vendors on most streets. We chose the sit-down version, out on one of the two terraces, with a glass of wine (June) and a beer (Gerry). (Inside, you can watch the very busy cooks grilling hundreds of sausages at a time on beechwood [aged at least 3 years!] grills.) There has been a restaurant (and integral butcher preparing the raw version) serving these little sausages on this site since 1313, and Hans Sachs, of Meistersinger fame, is known to have eaten here more than three hundred years ago - although at least the washrooms have been modernized! No one seems to know how many of the little beasties are served each day, but judging from the number of dirndl-clad waitresses, and the speed at which they serve, and the number of tables, I would guess at a number well north of 10,000!
(A note on brat - as in brat-wurst. Since "braten" in German means "grilling" I'd always thought that the name simply meant grilled sausages, and every German town seems to have their own variety, including the 1 metre long ones of the day before. But, it seems that "brat" is really the German word for a mixture of meats [usually pork and beef], seasoned, and then stuffed into a skin which makes it a "wurst" - sausage. It can then be grilled, or smoked, or even marinated and pickled, but it is still a bratwurst.)

Having refreshed ourselves, we then hit the shops! Much of the interior of the old city is closed to cars during daylight times (deliveries have to be made late at night or early in the morning), and so there are wonderful wide pedestrian malls adding up to kilometres of walking, with restaurants, pubs and cafes setting up outdoor seating, permanent stands selling street food, lined by stores of every kind. We didn't actually buy anything, but it was fun just to comparison shop. A good rule of thumb about pricing for almost any German item, especially luxury goods, but also meals, is to pretend that the price is in dollars, not Euros (1 Euro = Cdn $1.60 roughly!) and you won't be breathing too heavily. On the other hand, it also helps to remember that in Germany the ticket price is what you pay (VAT is included) and there isn't the unpleasantness of a 13% (Ontario tax) mark-up at the cash register. In restaurant the menu price also includes a service charge, thus there is no tip required nor expected (although it is customary to round up the bill to the next Euro if the service has been acceptable). With this in mind, most things cost roughly the same as in Canada (eg. restaurant meals, especially when you consider quality and quantity), some items (luxury) are considerably more expensive, and some things, eg. wine are less; a very good quality German wine, which in Ontario would cost north of $15, is about 2 to 3 Euro, ie. $3 to $5. A soft-drink (350 ml) will cost as much or more than a beer (500 ml), but coffee or tea in a restaurant will cost upwards of $4 - coffee and tea are considered a luxury and hence taxed heavily, beer and wine are considered food, and occasionally a foolish politician will propose increasing the taxes on them, and find him/her self looking for alternative work shortly after.

Eventually, around 6 p.m. we decided that 6 bratwurst and kraut were not going to carry us through the evening, and we stopped at the Mauthalle. Originally a toll collecting building (maut = toll), it is now up-scale shops at street level, and a perhaps 100 m by 300 m restaurant and beer hall in the basement. (And, a note on why there would be a toll-collecting building; Nuernberg was fortunate to sit on two trade routes; north-south, and east-west; it got wealthy by collecting tolls on both routes, while eventually sending it’s own goods - toll-free - along both routes.) On a good weather day the restaurant/beer hall also set up outside, which is where we ate, while watching the passing parade. In passing (intentional repetition) the beer served is brewed within the beer hall, and uses the "formula" of a former brewery on the site which was run by Franciscan friars, hence the name of the restaurant and beer, "Barfuesser" - the bare-footed ones, the informal German name for the Franciscan order, from their habit of going bare-foot. As we ate (good food, good wine, good beer) the sky darkened, and turned that kind of yellowy green which is the universal sign of bad weather coming. We finished quickly, and headed back to the car. Within a dozen metres or so from the parking garage some very large drops of rain started to fall, so we ran for it. We just got inside and up to the car when the heavens opened, lightening flashed, thunder crashed, and all hell broke loose when lightening struck not far away, and the sirens of emergency vehicles started converging. We were dry, so we changed into our opera going clothes (for me that meant putting on a tie and changing my windbreaker for a blazer and dress shoes; for June it was putting on a fancy jacket and heels). Then we sat in the car, watched the storm, and relaxed. About 30 minutes later, all settled down, the rain stopped, and we walked across the road to the opera house, just in time to order a couple of glasses of wine for the intermission. By this time, having learned from Hamburg, we knew the routine; you pay for the wine, or snack, or both, and you get a ticket giving you a table number in the foyer, at intermission you go to that table, and your order is waiting for you - no one checks to make sure you actually are the people that paid for the wine, the whole thing works on trust, and seems to work just fine - in all we did this four times, and never was there a problem. (But probably not in Ontario, where the forces for good in the community would oppose making life [drinking wine] that simple!)

Aida at the Nuernberger Staatstheater

We had excellent seats, right at the front of the 1st balcony.

This was a very interesting production! We are still not entirely sure just what the symbolism implied or was intended to imply! Much was implied by the costuming, as otherwise, musically, the production followed the libretto exactly.

The Egyptians were dressed in generic British-style military uniforms, with officers in forage caps, and other ranks with berets, immediately reminding one that most modern middle Eastern armies are dressed this way, and that most of the officers were British-trained. Radames (sung by an excellent Korean tenor) was dressed much as one would expect a Sandhurst-trained officer to dress. Ramfis, the high priest, was in a black uniform reminiscent of German 3rd Reich police, and the other priest wore similar uniforms, but less ornate. The King of Egypt was in a snazzy double-breasted business suit, with and without a broad sash decorated with medals, bald-headed, very reminiscent of King Farouk.

Aida, the Ethiopian princess, spent her entire time on stage in a very dowdy pale-blue shift, with POW (prisoner of war) stencilled on the back (as did most of the women's chorus), while Amneris, the daughter of the King and rival of Aida for the affections of Radames, was a fashionista (very well built - with the way Aida was dressed you couldn't really tell!), with very stylish, very tight, dresses, suits, and very wide-brimmed sunhats - why Radames even noticed Aida is difficult to understand, except perhaps to note the love is supposed to be blind. Amonasro, the King of Ethiopia and Aida's father, and the Ethiopian soldiers, when they finally appear late in the 1st half, are very buff, dressed in camouflage under-vests and tight camouflage pants, very muscular, looking like what we all imagine Israeli fighters to look like - especially Israeli fighters from the War of Independence, such as Irgun or Hagganah.
Of course it ended badly, as it always does! And, we are still wondering about the costuming/symbolism; but maybe that is not a bad thing - after all, art is supposed to challenge your assumptions about how things are.

What is not in doubt is the quality of the singing! Like in any German opera company, there is no star system; singers are part of a company, and sing roles according to the demands and their ability. Thus, most of the singers have worked together, and there are no awkward moments of two singers not quite knowing where to be or what to act.

If I had to vote, Amneris would get my approval as the most accomplished singer, followed closely by Radames and the King of Egypt. Aida was very good, but in this production, not really allowed to shine. Altogether, very much worth the cost of attending, even though we are still wondering about the meaning of it all!

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And then, a drive back to Pommersfelden, about 20 minutes.

Which brings me to a note about the opera tickets we had purchased. Reading them somewhat later, I noted that they were also transport tickets; for 2 hours before the start of the performance, and 3 hours after, they were good for travel on any Nuernberg public transit, and on the Deutsche Bahn (German Railway) net within the greater Nuernberg area (roughly a 50 km radius). What a creative way to reduce road traffic and fuel consumption! And for that matter, to allow people to enjoy a glass of wine at intermission, and wine with a late supper, which was available at the opera house, without worrying about impaired driving.

Day 8; Steigerwald Wine Villages, Metre Long Sausages, etc. (7 May 2009)

A slower day, although we did manage to drive 175 km, over about 10 hours! And, to get the weather out of the way, we couldn’t have asked for a better day, warm in the low 20’s, very little wind, and only a few fluffy clouds in the sky. It’s not supposed to last, this warm air came from Spain, and in mixing with the cold air is producing unstable weather; tomorrow the temperature is supposed to stay high, but thundershowers are expected.

We began the day with a visit to the Murk outlet store in Wachenroth, not far from Pommersfelden. Murk is a clothing manufacturer which makes wares marketed under many brands, most of which they sell in this outlet. We cased the joint, bought a few minor things, but decided to come back when we had a little more time (and cash money, as they only take that or EC Card).

Then we started off along the Aisch valley, but on the Steigerwald Hoehenstrasse (Steiger Forest Heights Road). The Steigerwald is another protected area, basically south of the A3 autobahn and north of the river Aisch, roughly 40 by 20 km. It is a series of hills and valleys, with the hills mostly forested, and still quite wild; for example, wild boar are still hunted her. The road we used travels along high ridges, and descents steeply into valleys. To make it more fun, when we deviated from the posted road, we used the GPS set on “shortest distance” rather than “fastest time” which lead to some interesting roads, barely one car wide, and going through deep forest.

One of the interesting features of driving in Germany are the speed limits. Basically any road in a “community”, that is anything between the yellow sign announcing the name of the city/town/village, and the back of the sign on the left as you leave the village (which is the entering sign for those coming in the opposite direction) is limited to 50 km/hour unless otherwise posted (higher or lower). The autobahns either have posted limits over some stretches, or have no speed limit. Anything else, Bundestrassen, Landstrassen, just plain Strassen, including very narrow roads through fields and through the forests that are simply thin lines on a map have a 100 km/hour limit, unless posted otherwise.

That would be fine if common sense applied. However, at least some drivers operate on the “what isn’t forbidden is compulsory” principle, and apply that to the roads that are not otherwise limited; on the autobahn they simply go as fast as their car is capable; on other roads they reason that if it is forbidden to go faster than the posted limit, or the assumed 100 km/hour, then you must drive at the limit! For those of us used to kinder, gentler roads, such as Ontario, the consequence is that when driving at a sensible speed an impatient local will be riding about a metre off the rear bumper, flashing lights until a (often inadequate) passing opportunity comes along,, or, as one goes gingerly along a narrow, winding road, a car coming the other direction at the speed limit goes by about 6 inches from one’s driver’s door, which can be disconcerting. You get used to it, and by day 8 I’m driving far more on the edge than I would in Canada.

Anyways, we worked our way to Castell, one of the wine villages that produce the well-reputed Frankenweine in the characteristically shaped Bocksbeutel bottles, sort of a flattened oval. This village’s vineyards are mostly part of the estates of the Herzog (Duke) of Castell (also part of the Faber-Castell writing instrument firm). Other than wine, it has a lovely parish church (Lutheran) that has an interior plan that I have only seen here; the pulpit is directly above the altar, leading to an interesting symbolic arrangement of word and sacrament (seemingly with word above sacrament, although that may not have been the intention). The altar and the reredos containing the pulpit are a pale grey-pink marble, and the remainder of the church is in lovely pale pastels – very impressive for a small village. While we were in the church, a sound team came in and set up a sound system for what we thought might be a wedding, and then tested it by playing a CD of Liszt solo piano compositions, which added to the experience.

From there further along to Iphoven, another wine village, with very pretty streets and houses, a beautiful central square, and another church that is far beyond what one would expect to find in such a small place. Another hour of walking around in the beautiful sunshine.

Then to Sulzfeld, for, first of all, lunch. This town is the home of the 1 metre bratwurst, although the Gaststaette that actually invented these was closed for staff holidays. (Scott and I were there a bit earlier last year, by about two weeks, so we had the original product.) We sat outside the the place just across the road, which served the same sausage (they are all made by one butcher) but with the innovation of having them served on a very hot cast iron platter (sort of a fajitas dish) that keeps the sausage hot even through a leisurely meal. Fortunately there is some sanity in this gastronomy, and one can order a half metre sausage, which is plenty, as it is accompanied by a leaf salad, potato salad, and sauerkraut, and rye bread. After this, and a glass of wine or beer, the walk around the town is very welcome.

Sulzfeld is one of the many completely walled towns in this area, which seems to point to very unfriendly neighbour relations. I don’t know what else might have happened within and without these walls, but they were strong enough, or high enough, in the Peasants’ Revolt of 1525 to keep out the peasants long enough for the town folk to muster up troops and beat them in battle.

Inside the walls are some very pretty and impressive houses in the half-timbered style, but also some that look like they belong in a much larger town, a testimony to the wealth that must have existed in times past. There are also a number of towers that were part of the fortifications, which are now quaint residences. On leaving through the main town gate, it becomes clear that the walls might also have served another purpose, and still do, as there are the high water marks that the Main river (which runs only perhaps 200 m away from the gate) has reached, the last flood in 1982 was not the highest, but was still a couple of feet up on the gate, and others were much higher, some above my head.

After the walk about here, we drove, still using the “shortest distance” algorithm, to Ebrach. We had visited here in August 2002, when we were over working on settling my father’s estate, but then the abbey church, which is the main feature, was completely under renovation and preservation work, with almost everything covered by scaffolding and screens. All of the work is finished (and was last year) and so this 13th c early baroque church can once again be seen in full splendour. Ebrach was the 3rd Cistercian monastery to be opened in Germany, and was active until the mid-18th c, when it was secularized. The abbey is now the parish church, and the monastic complex is now a youth prison.

What is still not finished in the restoration is the nearly unique feature of this church, its three organs. There is a main organ high on the west wall, and two organs on the nave walls just west of the crossing that were capable of being played by three organists. Music was written for this church in its time as a monastic church, for processions of high church officials, with the two nave organs being used in harmony and counterpoint, with the main organ assisting both. I had a vinyl recording from the 60’s of all three organs playing music written specifically for them, but sadly that went the way of all vinyl, and the recordings that are now available are more conventional music, and don’t show of the capabilities of three organs played by three organists at once.

If such recordings are going to be made again, it will have to wait. The two nave organs are still away being restored, and once they are returned the main organ is scheduled to be taken out for restoration and re-building. It will be at least another 5 to six years before this building is once again musically complete. And, all of this costs money, although the state and the church assist, but usually only in returning the building to its historical character and not for the use of a parish community, so the organ restorations particularly are the responsibility of the worshipping community that actually uses the building.

That community has been very clever in taking a large church, which cannot be altered because of its historical value, and creating within it a smaller and more suitable worship space for a couple of hundred people. In the 3/4 round, it feels intimate, even though dwarfed by the enormous space around it. Too bad we are not able to be there on a Sunday; I’d love to experience how this space actually works. (I realize I am trying to describe compactly in words what can only really be seen. In time I will put pictures onto our picture web site, with links from this blog, to provide illustrations.)

From Ebrach we went to Hoechstadt an der Aisch, where my father lived and is buried. We stopped at his grave for a bit, and were pleased to note that it was very well taken care of (which is very important in Germany!) by a local lady who was a friend of my father’s, and who my step-brother Karlheinz pays for her time and expenses (because of the distance, we made a deal that I would take care of all the burial and grave “lease” expenses at the time of my father’s death, and he would look after the upkeep for the 30 years that a German grave can remain in use.

And then we did what my father would have wanted us to do; go to his favourite Gaststaette for dinner, the Weberskeller. Following his wish, this was the place where we had an all afternoon reception (drinks, food off the menu, coffee and cake!) and then a late dinner after his burial. He’d specified that all who attended the funeral would be welcome, and so we started there with perhaps 100 people, and by the time we got to dinner perhaps 25 were left, and the whole thing was a lot of fun, and surprisingly reasonable!

Given the weather, rather than go inside, which was full of some kind of official dinner anyways, we sat on their patio. And, because the effects of 1/2 m of bratwurst at lunch were still being felt, we restricted ourselves to wine/beer, and a Spargel (white asparagus) salad, which is one of my all time favourite foods as it is prepared here (I’ve never managed to duplicate it, we just don’t get asparagus as they do in the Spring, in Germany), and June had never experienced it quite like it is done in Franken (Franconia , the local area, home of the Franks).

And then back to the hotel, to sit out on our balcony, enjoy the antics of a kitten on the roof opposite, who desperately wanted to join us, but couldn’t figure out how to do it.

Tomorrow we head into Nuernberg for a long day – other than the city attractions, we are planning on going to the Staatstheater to the opera, Aida, tomorrow night. It will be quite late when we get back, so I’m going to get behind the blogging a bit.

Day 7; South towards Nuernberg Area, via Coburg (6 May 2009)

A day of mostly driving, 525 km in all.

After breakfast, loading luggage into the car, and checking out of the hotel, we headed south on the Autobahn A7, in drizzle, with the odd heavy shower, punctuated by short periods of no rain. Traffic was heavy, but the usual German lane discipline – keep right unless you are passing someone, and if you happen to be in the left-most lane and someone faster than you comes up behind, get out of the way – kept things moving, even through the odd road construction.

We were on A7 for almost three hours, to just south of Goettingen when we turned eastward on a very new autobahn, the A38 to Leipzig. Almost immediately, one goes through a 1500 m tunnel, the Deutsche Einigskeit Tunnel – the German Unity Tunnel, which connects the state of Niedersachsen (Lower Saxony) with the state of Thueringen (Thuringia), the latter of which was part of East Germany. The new highway is just one way the West integrated the East into the re-unified Germany. (There is another new autobahn, A71, which connects the central part of Germany to the A4, and makes getting to Dresden a lot faster than previously.) We eventually turned south on the old Bundesstrasse B247, which winds its way through a lot of villages, very few of which have bypasses. It also goes through the Thueringer Wald (Thuringian Forest) which is a protected area of quite high hills covered in tall, and dark, pine trees, and while driving through in rain was a challenge, snow might be an entirely different proposition.

Thueringen is an integral part of the scenery of the German reformation, and as one drives along there are signs pointing to familiar names, Eisenach and the Wartburg, and Schmalkalten. Wittenberg in Sachsen-Anhalt (Saxony-Anhalt) is about 200 km further east, but much of the developing reformation thought happened in Thueringen, where Luther found refuge in the Wartburg and in the fortress at Coburg, and developed his theology and translated the Bible into German. Also, in Mühlhausen and elsewhere, Anabaptists found many adherents. Thomas Munzer, a leader of some non-peaceful groups of this sect, was active in this city. Sadly, we did not have time for either Eisenach nor Schmalkalten, but thought that another German trip might be to spend some days in or around Gotha or Erfurt, and visit some of these historical places, and then carry on east to Wittenberg, but also visit Dresden, Leipzig, Potsdam, and the re-unified Berlin.

Eventually after the long, slow drive we arrived in Coburg, and drove up to the Veste Coburg, the fortress that overlooks the city. I’d been last here more than 30 years ago, and while the exterior has remained much the same, the interior has become a very fine museum, much of it of religious art, but also of later items such as cutlery through the ages, and the development of tournament armour. There is also a considerable collection of “Lutheriana” including the famous Cranach the Elder paintings of Martin Luther and Katharina von Bora, his wife. It turns out that there are many copies of these paintings around, as many newly Lutheran churches wanted pictures of the founder and his famous/notorious wife, and as this was before the days of colour copiers, the solution was to copy paintings, usually by students in the studio of the master. But there are other quite valuable articles in this museum, which is well worth a visit.

We had our supper at the Veste, in a very nice Stube outside the wall. Friendly service, excellent food, what more could you want – well, in my case I had hoped for local beer, but on draft was Hofbrau from Munich! Ah, globalization!

Then the quick, half hour drive via the A73 to the B505 which goes by Pommersfelden, and then checking into the Hotel Gruener Baum, 555 years old and in the same family, and counting. (Scott and I stayed here last year.) We are staying in one of their new “apartments” with a large sitting room with dining nook, and a kitchen in a cupboard, should we want to cook; but also a little fridge to keep water cold, and perhaps other fluids. A large bath, and separate toilet, a large bedroom with double bed and closets, and a balcony to overlook the village. All this for the princely sum of 80 Euro/day!

Tomorrow the weather is supposed to improve, and the temperature to go to near 20; we shall see. The plan is to take a leisurely tour through the Steigerwald wine villages, along the Main river, going in the direction toward Wuerzburg. A visit to Sulzfeld, the town of the meter bratwurst is in the schedule, and perhaps stops in the afternoon elsewhere to sample the product of last Fall’s harvest, the harvest we missed by cancelling our trip.

Day 6; Bremen & Bremerhafen (5 May 2009)

A happy Cinco de Mayo to all – not that we kept it here, in North Germany.

We got to Bremen somewhat later than expected; the entire 160 km (roughly) east-west Autobahn A1 between its connection to the north-south A7 and its connection to the A27 which goes up to Bremen and Bremerhafen is being widened to 6 lanes from four. The system used is rather ingenious; about 6 to 8 km stretches where one side is closed and being widened, and the other side and paved shoulder has been repainted into four lanes, two each way, with a 60 or 80 km/hour limit, which in practice is about 60, as the lanes are very narrow. It is very harrowing to pass a large truck, with perhaps 6 inches on each side of the car – six from the truck, six from the steel centre barrier they manage to fit into the middle! Naturally, the traffic very quickly becomes bumper to bumper, especially as it is only allowed to pass trucks, not cars (although that tends to get ignored by some). Then there are 6 to 8 km of open road, two full lanes each way, with the speed limit back up to 100 or 120, which in practice works out to 120 to 140! That unbunches the traffic and spreads everyone out again, before hitting the next restricted section. Some very clever traffic engineering seems to have gone into this, and good psychology as the narrow but same number of lanes avoid the jam that would result from merging two lanes into one, but the narrowness automatically slows everyone down. (I’ve read about this technique recently in a fascinating book titled “Traffic” (author to be supplied when I get my hands on it at home - Tom Vanderbilt, publisher is Knopf Canada). It works, it lengthened the morning trip of roughly 160 km by at most 30 minutes, from the 90 the GPS had predicted, and the evening trip back, with less traffic was perhaps 15 minutes longer.

Bremen does not take much time to see everything important. Even a German author who is an official spokesperson for Bremen tourism admits that it is difficult to stretch the walk-around beyond a leisurely two hours – but in that two hours one sees some fascinating things – it's just that everything is condensed into a very compact Altstadt (old city), and arranged conveniently around a large square and into a few streets off that.

The first stop for everyone seems to be the side of the old city hall and the (modern) bronze statue of the 4 Bremen town musicians; the donkey, dog, cat, and rooster, arranged vertically from largest to smallest, just as they famously scare off the robbers in the Grimm bothers’ fairy tale, a translation of which you can find at http://www.fln.vcu.edu/grimm/bremereng.html , although it leaves off the Grimm brothers’ version of “and they lived happily ever after”; wenn sie nicht gestrorben sind, dann leben sie noch heute – if they didn’t die they are still alive today. A flash-animated version, sanitized to make it “suitable” for children is at http://www.brementownmusicians.com/flash/story . The statue is not all that old (and careful reading of the story shows that the four “musicians” never did get to Bremen, but they have become a sort of icon for the city as the statue depicts them. The (urban) legend is that if you embrace the donkey and rub his legs, you will get a wish granted – experimental evidence shows this to be untrue, as we did not win the daily Bremen lottery for which they sell tickets right next to the statue – but the donkey’s legs are well-polished, and everyone visiting has their picture taken with the four animals.

From there around to the front of the old city hall, which, because of its ornamental facade, is a World Heritage site, as is the statue of Roland directly in front of it. Roland is a figure from German mythology, representing the perfect knight, and this larger-than-life stone statue depicts him in armour, holding a gilded shield with the double eagle emblem of the Holy Roman Empire (which was not holy, nor Roman, nor an empire, but mostly a federation of small Germanic and Frankish duchies and kingdoms out of which modern Germany and France eventually evolved). Again, it is obligatory to have your picture taken with Roland.

The next item to visit is the Sankt Peter Dom, St. Peter’s Cathedral, which is no longer a cathedral, but the main Bremen Lutheran parish church (about 90% of North German Christians are Lutheran). It is a worthy to visit example of the transition from the earlier romanesque architectural style to the newer gothic. It is still very dark, and the nave pillars are still quite heavy, but the windows are getting larger, and one can see the development that a century or two later becomes the classical gothic church; tall, slim pillars, a vaulted ceiling, walls that are more than half windows, and the whole thing supported externally by flying buttresses instead of thick walls. There is a very fine (and free) museum inside that has, notably, some 11th and 12th c Mass vestments, and some very early books of hymns and liturgies.

On the square is also the modern parliament building (as mentioned, Bremen is a city and a state, and thus has both a city council and a parliament consisting of a lower house and a senate, and I have no idea who does what!), but the modern-ness somehow blends in. There is also a new city hall, which is not so new, and again fits right in. Off this square leads a very narrow street, Boetcherstrasse, which is decorated with the art of an early 20th c sculptor, who donated his works to beautify the city. The street is now a colony of art shops, quality clothing shops, the Bremen casino (not sure if one wishes on the donkey before going there) and some restaurants, all interspersed with nooks and crannies with sculpture in them. During the 3rd Reich this street was much neglected and almost destroyed, as the art was not considered Nordic and Germanic enough, but all of it has been restored, and has been adopted by a local bank as a project, and the bank ensures that this historical area is well maintained.

We had lunch at a restaurant in the Boetcherstrasse, and a very fine lunch it was, in a very modern restaurant, right opposite the Hilton’s restaurant, which has been fitted into this street with total integrity. This was the closest to healthy food that we have had, although there is some question whether a green leaf salad with raspberry vinaigrette smothered in probably pan-fried chicken strips (June), or a coconut-curry shrimp soup (Gerry) can be called healthy. June stuck to tea, but I couldn’t leave Bremen without having Becks beer, the most exported German beer, brewed in Bremen.

Travel should be educational, and we learned in the Boetcherstrasse, from the Robinson Crusoe house, that Daniel Defoe’s fictional character Robinson Crusoe had a father who came from Bremen. How that translates into house that is supposedly Robinson’s is a mystery! Neither June nor I knew of this Bremen connection; obviously the donkey, dog, cat, and rooster have better publicists, since even though they never got to Bremen, they have made sure that every German child grows up knowing there is a Bremen, and where it is.

The final stop on the tour of the historic area was the Church of Our Dear Lady, another former Roman Catholic, now Lutheran, church of roughly the same age as St. Peter. It’s main distinction is that all the windows are by a modern Bremen glass artist, and are very beautiful, in very distinct colours. They are abstract depictions of the church year, but although I could relate to the main window "depicting" Pentecost, the others simply didn’t compute – but they are still worth seeing!

Then a drive of about 50 km up the Weser river, although it is not visible from the Autobahn, to Bremerhafen, the harbour of Bremen, and the source of its wealth. The old harbour has become mostly a park and museum of German shipping, and all the actual harbour operations have moved further north, down the Weser river. There is a very active container port, and an automobile port; every German-built car that is exported to a place you can’t drive to is shipped through here. Most of the shore is public, even if one can’t drive along all of it, one can walk along the top of a flood protection dike that runs all along the river. Along that are restaurants, and even a new zoo. No longer there is the quay through which most of the German emigration of the 40’s, 50’s and 60’s passed (including my family and I in 1953). There is a German emigration museum, which we didn’t have time for, but the quay itself has been replaced by a shopping centre on one side of the harbour road, and on the other side, connected to the shopping centre by a perhaps 10 ft diameter glass tube with a walk-way in it is a futuristic entertainment complex that is totally covered with reflecting glass plates, and looks a bit like the offspring of the illict relations of a jellybean and a flying saucer. There is alson another upscale shopping complex(very upscale – June spotted a manikin with a very nice linen suit in black and white on it, and was disappointed when I pointed out that if you added up the prices for the jacket, slacks, belt and matching purse, you’d get very little change – about 4 Euro - from 1600 Euro, about $2500). This complex has been styled inside as an Italian set of streets (complete with warm Mediterranean air and smells), including an airy piazza with ice cream shops. The futuristic look is completed by a new Atlantic Hotel and Conference Centre that manages to look simultaneously like a sail and a ship’s bridge.

Again, another waterfront (we’ve seen so many of them now, all over the world) which has been creatively turned into a beautiful space, accessible to the public, and with a variety of uses. (Hamburg was the same; most of the old docklands are being turned into multi-use buildings, which in the end will increase the population living in the city centre by 40,000.) And in Toronto, all they can think of is to squeeze in yet another boring-looking condo, until it is quite possible to visit or even live in Toronto, and not know it is a city on a lake! Bah!

After a fish supper (we were in a seaport, after all) we reversed the drive back to our hotel. Tomorrow will be an earlier start, as we leave the North, and drive to Pommersfelden (near Hoechstadt/Aisch, my late father’s home), planning to go through Coburg for a visit to its castle, which has interesting history, including hosting Martin Luther briefly while he was hiding out!