Wednesday, 2 July - Agoura Hills to London
Ok! On the plane, a United 777 at 6:00 PM awaiting a 6:15 takeoff. There was no hope of leaving on time as far as I could tell, seeing as we were on a very, very large plane - Boeing’s newest - and had only started boarding at 5:45. Oh well!
It was difficult for us both to banish thoughts of work from our heads, but sitting on the plane seemed to do it. The itinerary this trip would be a bit of everything: England, to see Robert’s cousin Ulrich, then on to Germany to see the Luxes, Bettina and Torsten Ried, and Johannes and Bärbel Weissler, then the Pruggers in Pullach; followed by a visit to Grindelwald, Switzerland, and a brief excursion into France to see a bit of the Tour de France cycling race. A lot to do in only ~18 days! We’d need to rest when it was over, but our only thoughts pre-takeoff were GO! And wondering how soon we could get some wine.
Eight hours later…only one hour left in the flight. We both managed to sleep four to five hours, despite Robert’s staying up to watch Volcano (“the coast is toast!” a volcano erupts in the Wilshire District and destroys LA!). It was a bumpy flight, with the Captain occasionally instructing the flight attendants to suspend service, but luckily not until after we had been served our dinners. Wasn’t much worse than a good roller coaster, though; one just had to ignore the fact that we were at 35,000 feet with no track.
Thursday, 3 July - London to Bournemouth
After focusing on going to Germany for so long, it felt very odd indeed to find ourselves in England. And although we were tired, I still found myself laughing at the airline’s video “magazine in the air” and Robert’s repeated pantomime of hurling the printed magazine upward. Nevertheless, we got through customs quickly, got our bags, waited much too long for the Hertz rental car van, and eventually got our car, a little Ford of some make or another. Robert driving, we easily got onto the M25 (“London Orbital”) and to the M3 southwest to Bournemouth.
Bournemouth looked very familiar as we made our way towards the town centre, and we recognized the big round Zürich Insurance building that marked the Richmond Hill area and the main turnoff for Wimborne. Our hotel, the Dean Park, was just a few blocks up tree-lined Wimborne Road from Ulrich’s “Cumloden”, where he had been since 1980. (Claire and Alla stayed at the Dean Park two years ago when we came for Ulrich’s 70th birthday party; it was the scene of their “big egg fight” one morning at breakfast.) We settled in quickly, after eyeing all of the beer taps in the bar, then rang up Ulrich and walked the few blocks over to Cumloden.
Ulrich looked quite good despite his recent medical problems; he was being treated for prostate cancer, and the cancer and treatment together had weakened him and made walking difficult. But overall he was in good spirits and seemed robust, and still had a nearly full head of dark hair. We spoke of Africa, telling him about our travels and hearing more of his experiences there. The art in his sitting room had new meaning for us, especially the painting of the acacia trees that hung over his fireplace.
We went to the seashore for dinner, to Harry Ramsden’s, a long-established fish and chips restaurant that was very, very good. It was cold and windy along the beach; we supposed it might be warm to parts north but it was still chilly. The beach front reminded us of east coast beaches in the US - think Atlantic City, pre-casinos, or maybe Rehoboth Beach, Delaware - with arcades, shops, a boardwalk (although in Bournemouth the boards had long been replaced with something else, but the idea was the same).
Jet lag, a pint of bitter, and brandy back at Ulrich’s knocked us both out, and we collapsed back at the Dean Park at 10:00 PM.
Friday, 4 July - Bournemouth
Independence Day! It seemed too perverse to think of celebrating American independence while actually in England. Nearly as bad as the Orangemen insisting on “marching” in Drumcree, Northern Ireland on the coming Sunday, in their annual “let’s cause a riot” exercises - a peaceful walk home from church that just happens to go through a Catholic neighborhood. Hmm.
We started the day with what else? but a full English breakfast. I’d asked for no bacon but neglected to say anything about sausage, and wound up with a couple of huge bangers. Nothing like 50 grams of animal fat to start one’s day.
We saw a brief segment on the news this morning about the pitfalls of naming products for sale in multiple markets, something that has more importance in Europe with the common market. They of course mentioned the classic “Nova” car not selling in Spain (no va in Spanish means “it doesn’t go”), but also had some others that were hilarious, including candy called “fart” and “crap”, indigestion pills called “plops” and “bums”, etc.
After breakfast, we headed out to the Studland Heath, crossing over via the ferry and visiting, once again, the Knoll Beach area. The area was a National Trust site and we remembered visiting there on our trip two years ago. From the beach one had a beautiful view of the nearby Purbeck Cliffs (white cliffs, but unspoiled as was Dover). Inland from the car park we walked the woodland nature trail. The trail was slightly soggy from rain but as the sun warmed things up, the birds became more active. Lots of Chaffinches, Blue and Great Tits, Treecreeper, and a Nightingale (new!); also near a stinky, boggy area we saw Siskin (another new bird) and Willow Warbler.
We intended to spend the early afternoon at Kingston Lacy, a large estate that was now a National Trust site, but we discovered it was closed on Thursdays and Fridays. So we returned to Bournemouth instead, back to the hotel following a missed turn and an inadvertent auto tour of the town centre, and enjoyed a quiet (if not smoky) drink in the pub. (Blackthorn Dry Cider for me, Murphy’s Irish Stout for Robert.) Ulrich had been concerned about the hotel; it had been purchased recently by a brewery, so instead of being a hotel with a bar, it was now a pub with rooms. But the arrangement suited us just fine.
We returned to Cumloden at tea time, and after a quick bite, the three of us drove out to Burley in the heart of the New Forest. “New” was a relative term, of course, most of the trees were very tall, and around Burley itself wild horses were in abundance and, I suspected, normally had the right of way on the roads. We spent the early evening at Rhinefield, a Tudor-style estate built in the 1890’s, now a very expensive hotel owned by Richard Branson, the fellow who also owns Virgin Atlantic Airlines and more. After getting an eyeful of the moorish Alhambra room, modeled after the same in Granada, we retired to the bar, enjoying a drink and more family conversation until nearly 8:30 PM. The bar overlooked the gardens, and as we watched an elegant wedding party pose for photographs, Ulrich spoke of his father at some length. It was a very pleasant evening overall.
Back at Cumloden for a late supper and a delicious apple pie with clotted cream - yum! We said good-night and planned to return to see Ulrich and his faithful dog Jacko in the morning before leaving.
Saturday, 5 July - London to Frankfurt
Another full breakfast, although this time I managed to skip both the sausage and the bacon, and we settled up and drove over to Cumloden one last time. Following a quick photo session in the garden, while Jacko looked at us longingly through the garden gate, the three of us drove over to Durley Chine to spend the morning on the beach. (A “chine” is a narrow spit of land running down to the sea. Ulrich said he’d only heard the word used in place names in Bournemouth and on the Isle of Wight.) The weather had improved, and it was clear and warm along the shore. We watched a number of people make their way past the tiny, colorful rented beach houses to the sand, looking as if they were equipped to spend the entire day there, with umbrellas, food, and so forth. It was a very pleasant way to spend our last bit of time with Ulrich in Bournemouth.
Too soon we had to get going. We stopped in at Cumloden to get the Lux’s phone number and to say our last goodbyes to both Ulrich and Jacko. Sadly we said farewell, Ulrich apologizing for being an invalid. As we drove off he stood in the big sweeping driveway waving goodbye, and looking not a little lonely. I thought our visit had been good for him, our excursions got him out more than he might have done on his own. We certainly enjoyed it and hoped it would not be our last visit.
The drive up the motorway went smoothly, although we were both very tired, and after gassing up the car at a motorway “Welcome Break” stop, I completed the drive into Heathrow. Our flight to Frankfurt on British Air was Business class, very very nice; apparently it worked out better fare-wise due to our having essentially a one-way ticket. Worked for me; I could enjoy a nice meal on the short flight, and choose between reading an airline magazine article on the actor Ralph Fiennes, or my aptly-named Agatha Christie mystery, Passenger to Frankfurt.
Willkommen in Frankfurt! A quick passage through customs, and a little bit of culture shock…
Passport control to another woman: Do you speak German?
Woman: No.
Passport control: Why not? (laughing)
Hans and Ilse Lux met us outside passport control, and as my brain tried to adjust to listening and comprehending German, they drove us to their absolutely palatial four-story home in Viernheim (or “Viernheim-Ost”, as Hans cheerfully noted, “so it must be better”). Ilse Lux was a cousin of Ulrich and Johannes Weissler on their mother’s side of the family, and we had met Hans, Ilse, and their son Christian at Ulrich’s birthday party two years earlier. The light dinner Ilse had prepared for us was really very elegant, and we met their other son Thomas at dinner in addition to getting reacquainted with Christian and meeting Christian’s girlfriend (who spoke excellent English).
Following dinner we drove to Mannheim and walked a bit. The Mannheimer Schloss, now part of the university, was in state of utter disrepair, with graffiti and broken windows (“American style”, Christian joked). And the onion-domed Jesuitkirche nearby was closed to visitors, so we simply walked the Fußgangerzone. It stayed light until nearly 10:00 PM.
On another note, the Tour de France started that day.
Sunday, 6 July - Viernheim
We managed to wake up and get ourselves downstairs before 9:00 AM, to be greeted by a breakfast feast with breads, cheeses, eggs, Speck, etc. Following breakfast, Hans drove Ilse, Christian, Robert and I into Heidelberg, driving across the red brick Alte Brucke (which was mostly verboten) and dropped us off at the Philosophen Weg (Philosopher’s Walk). The walk along and above the Neckar River was green and cool. Although the day was cloudy, we had many good views of the castle, churches, and “Old Heidelberg” across the river. I was finally starting to get into the swing of listening to German, although I still had trouble saying much of anything. I supposed that was not too surprising considering I had last studied German ten years earlier.
Hans rejoined us at about 1:00 PM at an Italian restaurant, where we enjoyed a light lunch. We then walked over to the Bergbahn funicular and went on up to the Schloss. The sun came out for us, and the view of Old Heidelberg from the castle, with the black and gold flag of Baden-Würtemberg fluttering from the tower, was simply spectacular.
For the mid-afternoon, we drove to Schloss Hirschhorn, about 20 km along the Neckar. The Schloss there was small, but had the feature of a terrace restaurant with a beautiful view of the river. We sat outside in the sunshine, enjoying a piece of Schwarzwälderkirschtorte with coffee, the scenery, and conversation. An Eurasian Kestrel obligingly flew by for us, as well.
Despite the coffee, the sunshine and perhaps the effort of trying to think in German took a toll, and both Robert and I nearly fell asleep in the van on the way home. We did catch a bit of news on television once there; no Tour de France news, but we did hear that Pete Sampras had won at Wimbledon. Also the Orangemen had persisted in their march in Drumcree despite protests, and while rocks had been thrown, apparently nobody was hurt.
It was quite interesting hearing Christian speak of politics and the US. To hear him tell it, the US National Security Agency (NSA) was the root of all evil in Europe. Perhaps our perspective was a little naïve, but it seemed to me that other countries both expect too much of the US and think we have too much influence on world events, and the position conveniently varies depending on the situation, whichever one casts the US in the worst light. The conversation was friendly enough, certainly, and Christian was amiable, but some of the opinions did seem to come out of left field from time to time.
After dinner, with little else on television but golf from Japan and Das Traumschiff (Love Boat - no kidding!) we drove out to Schwetzingen and then Ladenburg. Schwetzingen had a “summer residence” of Kürfurst Friedrich V; Ladenburg’s claim to fame was that it was approximately 2000 years old and sported some Roman ruins. We walked around until dusk (10:00 PM) and then drove back to Viernheim, not on the autobahn, but on a side road that took us through a few smaller towns. The autobahn certainly was an experience - Hans seemed quite fond of hurtling along at 140-160 kph - but the side roads I found to be fun as well, as they gave us a view of the German countryside that we could not get were we travelling alone on the train.
Tour de France news: we had no idea who won the Prologue (later found out it was Chris Boadrman), but Mario Cipollini took the first stage, a sprint, in Forges-Les-Eaux.
Monday, 7 July - Viernheim to Weilheim an der Teck
We probably stayed up later than we should have the previous evening, and combined with a restless night and an early start, meant we were both very tired. Breakfast perked us up, however, and saying goodbye to Ilse and Christian at the house, we were driven to the Mannheim [LW1]Hauptbahnhof by Hans. He kindly accompanied us onto the platform and kept us company for nearly 30 minutes as we waited for our Intercity (Inter-regio) train to Göppingen. Too soon, it seemed, the train arrived; we said a last farewell on the steps, and watched Hans waving from the platform as we pulled out of the station.
I thought I might write postcards on the train, but only got two done before falling asleep. Sleep was brief though as the trip to Göppingen was little more than an hour. We got off quickly - the stop was only about a minute - and immediately found Torsten Ried on the small platform. Torsten was easy to spot: tall, thin, and completely bald. And very friendly, speaking excellent English in addition to German (naturally) and Portuguese (from living in Brazil for 31 years).
Weilheim an der Teck lay about 20 minutes drive from Göppingen, and we found that Teck was not a river, but a nearby mountain peak. The area’s claim to fame was that the UK’s Queen Mary, wife of George V, grandmother to Queen Elizabeth II, and for whom the luxury ocean liner (presently berthed in Long Beach, California) was named, was born there.
The Ried family lived in a large, beautiful home on the “edge” of Weilheim, and there we finally met Bettina. Just a few years older than Robert, Bettina was very much a younger copy of her mother Bärbel - petite, blonde, and full of energy. Katja, eight years old, soon arrived home from school, and Martin, age 12, shortly thereafter. We went out with Bettina and Katja to run a few errands, most notably Katja’s registration in the local Gymnasium (two years early!) and then returned home for the [large] midday meal. The conversation was both in English and in German; we tried for more German after Katja placed a sign in front of her at the table that said Ich verstehe KEIN Englisch!.
Katja had to return to school afterwards, and while Torsten stayed home to work (he was a self-employed programmer working on industrial applications), Bettina took us on a short walking tour of “old” Weilheim, complete with a visit to St. Peterskirche to see its beautifully painted gothic interior. Some of the older half-timbered buildings dated to the early 1700’s, some in various stages of renovation, but all quite nice looking with flower boxes in the windows, many containing bright red geraniums.
We picked up Katja and a friend, and with Martin along too, had a full car (Katja on Robert’s lap) on the short drive back home. We headed out again almost immediately for a walk up the Limburg, a long-dormant volcanic plug some 600 meters high, now a big grassy hill. Fruit trees - cherry and apple - lined the lower slope of the path, and we sampled some of the cherries while Martin and Katja examined the nearby natural springs, various beetles, etc. From the top of the Limburg one had quite a good view of the surrounding countryside, with the little towns tucked into small valleys, farms on the outskirts, and the Autobahn bisecting the area. The sun shone brightly, the grass was so green, that I had to refrain from singing “The hills are alive with the sound of music…”!
We made our way down eventually and returned to the house for the “light” evening meal. Although I supposed with the marvelous array of cheeses the meal was not really light, but with a nice rosé we enjoyed the Brotzeit greatly. Martin played the electronic keyboard for us, and later Katja practiced her flute. She was a little frustrated but actually played well for only having studied about a month. It probably did not help her to hear me play a little, but as we reminded her, I had played for over 20 years.
The children were in bed by 8:30 PM, and us four adults spent several more hours drinking wine and talking. Both Torsten and Bettina were great fun, and it was interesting to compare notes on what we all knew of the Weissler family history. Bettina thought perhaps Johannes’ recent medical problems were a result of his writing his part of the family history, i.e., dredging up all the bad memories. But she felt it was important for him to get it down on paper while he could, to preserve the information for her own children.
We also spoke some of her brother Wolfgang and his wife Regina. Torsten thought them both odd; apparently they see little of each other, and that may be due mostly to Regina as she was not too family-oriented. (Bettina said Regina did not even invite her own parents to her wedding.) There’s one in every family, it would seem.
Finally it was time to end the day, and we both happily collapsed on the mattress arranged for us on the living room floor.
Tuesday, 8 July - Weilheim to Erlangen
We slept very well, almost too well as we did not wake up until 9:20! Katja and Martin had long since left for school, but luckily Torsten and Bettina were in the habit of having a “second breakfast” around 9:30, so we did not delay them too much.
Following our brunch, Bettina, Robert and I headed off on bicycle - I on Torsten’s large-frame bike - to the nearby Hauff museum. The museum was built by father and son archeologists who had done extensive work excavating and studying fossils in the area. The fossils dated to the Jurassic era when the area was mostly underwater. Fascinating! Ammenites, icthyosaurs, etc. in layers of gray sedimentary rock that to the untrained eye would look simply like good flagstone material. The museum was well worth the visit.
We were rejoined by Martin and Katja for the midday meal, a yummy baked tortellini and sliced fresh tomatoes. Then, again too soon, we had to depart to catch our train in Göppingen to get to Erlangen, transferring in Augsburg. We certainly hoped we would have a chance to visit longer next summer, provided, of course, that the Rieds do not move back to Brazil first as they were thinking.
Wednesday, 9 July - Erlangen
Morning came far too quickly again! We seem to be always tired. The previous day we were met at the Erlangen train station around 7:00 PM by Johannes and Bärbel. It was wonderful to see them both; despite Torsten’s having said that Johannes had aged 10-15 years in the last six months due to the heart problems, he looked good, well-recovered from the surgery in March to replace two weakened heart valves. We returned to their home on Ricarda-Huch-Straße and got reacquainted with the house and, best of all, the model train in the basement.
This morning we forced ourselves awake and following breakfast, made a very nice morning trip to a nearby nature preserve in the vicinity of Biengarten. We saw a young white stork on a nest atop a building in Erlangen itself, and many nice birds in and around the lakelets in the preserve, including grey heron, harrier, reed bunting and reed warbler, goldfinch, and greenfinch.
Lunch was Nürnberger Bratwürstl (yum!) back at the house, then in the afternoon Johannes, Robert and I drove into Nürnberg to visit the Verkehrsmuseum. Robert and I had visited there in 1987; this time some areas were closed off for renovation, but we were still able to see quite a lot, including the first German locomotive, King Ludwig’s luxury train car, etc. Of special interest this time were the maps; the first rail line in Germany began service in 1835, and by 1850 there was quite a network, including a major line through Halle and one to Myslowice in Galicia, where Weisslers lived!
On the way home, Johannes got us near the Altstadt Fußgängerzone and we quickly found Schmidt’s Lebkuchen, buying some of course, and also some ice cream. I’d liked to have stayed longer but our parking place was somewhat illegal (for Anwohner - residents - only), and we were tired, so we headed for home.
After dinner we talked more about the family, gave Johannes the two family trees we had printed up, and made a few more notes for ourselves. Johannes said he knew more about some of the outliers (Worms, Freunds) and said he would either send us the information, or we could return next year with our chamber singing group and perhaps catch up. I thought we were reasonably complete, but it would be nice to confirm it; I hoped he would have the energy to work on it all in the coming year.
The evening wrapped up with a video of trains in Berlin; very interesting to see where we had been in 1994 and to hear Johannes’ recollections.
Tour de France news: Cipollini retained the overall lead through the fourth stage, with Deutsche Telekom’s Eric Zabel only four seconds behind, having won the third stage the previous day in a sprint.
Thursday, 10 July - Erlangen
The day’s program consisted of a beautiful drive out to Vierzehnheiligen, a fine baroque basilica about an hour’s drive from Erlangen along the autobahn. The church occupies a commanding position on a hill overlooking the valley below, and appears to be built of a yellow sandstone. The interior is rococo with each of the so-named fourteen saints represented at different altars, red marble columns, gilt edgings, and lots of white sculpted cherubim and seraphim exploding from the walls and arches. Very typical rococo and quite beautiful and inspiring!
Next, just across the valley on another hill, lay Kloster Banz, which looked to have been built around the same time as Vierzehnheiligen. The church was mostly closed, but we were able to look through the iron gate just inside the door and admire the rococo interior.
Both sites being on hilltops required a bit of walking, which tired Johannes, of course, so we sat a bit in the beer garden outside the Kloster and I enjoyed a Radler, a mix of beer and something approximating 7-Up. The combination sounded odd but it was actually a very light and refreshing drink on a warm day.
We then headed off to Coburg, the seat of the Herzogtum (duchy) Sachsen-Coburg (Saxe-Coburg in English), which, through carefully planned marriages, managed to populate most of the royal thrones of Europe. A very interesting exhibition, Ein Herzogtum und viele Kronen (A Duchy and Many Crowns) described the genealogy of the royal families. For example…Queen Victoria of England was the daughter of Victoire von Sachsen-Coburg-Saalfeld, Herzogin von Kent, and Eduard, Herzog von Kent; she married Albert, Prince of Sachsen-Coburg und Gotha. As we learned in Weilheim, Victoria’s grandson George V married Mary, Princess of Teck; their granddaughter Elizabeth II of course married Philip Mountbatten, who was really a Battenberg but the name was Anglicized during WWI. And so on and so on…really quite interesting. Most of the Sachsen-Coburgs by the way were not much to look at, judging from their portraits! Big noses all around.
Johannes had originally suggested Robert and I might be dropped off in Bamberg to have a look around, but after a late Wurst lunch at Coburg, we opted instead just to return to Erlangen. A good decision, as it started to shower a bit on the way home, and we were all pretty tired anyway.
Our time in Erlangen was short but overall very enjoyable, and we both appreciated the time we were able to spend with Johannes and Bärbel. Johannes seemed to very much enjoy being with Robert, and Bärbel was very friendly as well, keeping me well-informed as to the progress of the Tour de France. And they both didn’t seem to mind my halting German. Unfortunately, we had no chance to see Wolfgang or meet his wife Regine, as they had gone on vacation to Egypt, but perhaps next time. (Torsten said they were both odd anyway.)
Friday, 11 July - Erlangen to München (Pullach)
Surprise! When we emerged from our morning wake-up rituals, we found that Wolfgang had come to visit. He and Regine had just returned late the previous evening from their Egypt trip, not to see pyramids but rather to rest and relax at a spa resort on the Red Sea. He looked very tan and fit, and overall was very friendly. His wife was not along but was at home sleeping. We had a pleasant visit for some 90 minutes or so, then he was off, and we spent a few minutes writing in Johannes’ guestbook. (He brought out the book from 1987 when we had just visited, followed by Garry and Claire; it was nice but a bit sad to read Garry’s words.)
At any rate, too soon it was 10:30 and time to get to the Erlangen train station to catch our train, EC 11 “Mimara” at 11:02 to München. We had our last few minutes together on the platform, the train arrived, and we were quickly away, Johannes and Bärbel waving from the platform. No time for long goodbyes with the train; I supposed that was a good thing, as we also had no time to wonder if we would see them again. Hopefully so, next summer with our planned concert tour.
Now for the TdF. Bärbel again kindly saved the sports page of the newspaper, reporting that the relatively unknown Frenchman Cedric Vasseur won the previous day’s stage.
The two hours to München passed quickly, and we made our way to the lower level to catch the #7 Strassenbahn, in the direction of Wolfratshausen, to Pullach. As we emerged from the train and walked down the sidewalk, we soon saw the tall, thin figure of Hans Prugger waving to us! He greeted us very warmly, joked about being old, packed us into his BMW, and drove us the short distance to the house we remembered so well at 95 Gistlstrasse. Lisa was at the front door with a big WELCOME sign, and after depositing our bags up in the attic room, we all went into the garden for a nice lunch of chicken soup and (of course) some beer. The Pruggers were so clearly happy to see us and a little disappointed that we planned to leave after only two nights - in fact they had already bought tickets for something on Sunday - so we decided to see if we could ring up the Hotel Fiescherblick in Grindelwald and change our arrival date from Sunday to Monday.
Hans had to leave lunch early to join his “band” (in his Lederhosen, of course, and the red felt vest) to play at the official opening of a new bridge over the railroad tracks nearby. We stayed home and ate still more (currants with vanilla cream and cake), and watched a sudden downpour drench the yard. When the sun returned, we went by bicycle (hurray!) over to the new bridge site, where we found a real bürgerlisches Fest - a few speakers to whom no one really listened, music, beer, Wurst and pretzels, and sunshine. The bridge was officially blessed with a long prayer, followed by raising of beer glasses; now that was my idea of how church should be! :)
Eventually we picked ourselves up, met Pullach’s lady mayor whom Lisa helped elect (their motto: Frau Power!) and then rode off down the bicycle path along the Isar River. We stopped to admire a very tall Maibaum (Maypole), peaked into a small baroque chapel, and wandered along through a “wild animal” park where we saw some boar rooting around.
Hans left us at that point, and Lisa took us over to the Pullach Bürgershaus, a beautiful modern building with lots of glass, overlooking the Isar. Inside was an art exhibition (Pullach kreativ), with quilts even! And we sat awhile listening to a small orchestra rehearsal of a baroque violin piece, with a 12-year-old soloist. She played so beautifully, with much feeling…then when she spoke she sounded so small and young, with a very high pitched voice.
Eventually we rode home, ate some more, and collapsed. No TdF news this day…
Saturday, 12 July - München (Pullach)
Robert was up early to bird-watch while I slept in. Breakfast was in the garden; Hans kept the ants out of the butter while Lisa and I joked about Robert falling into the Isar. He eventually showed up around 10:15.
Robert and I spent most of the day in München, but except for visits to the Theatiner-, Frauen-, and St. Michaelskirche, it was a somewhat unsatisfying trip. We shopped for something for Maureen and Margaret, but found nothing we liked; looked at Rosenthal china, but bought none. I did find a cookbook for lebkuchen, and then went on a “search and rescue” mission for a metric weight Massbecher, finding one after a long search at Kaufhof for DM3.00.
We’d pretty much had it with the Marienplatz by then; simply too many people, and the “gay pride” parade in progress didn’t help. (It was alarming to see the assortment of gay men going into the men’s WC after Robert walked in, and I wondered what kind of view Robert was getting, and of what!) So we returned to Pullach and had a beer at the Bürgerhaus terrace overlooking the Isar. For dinner, Lisa packed up a picnic, and we all rode bikes over to the Grosshesselohe beer garden to drink and eat. It was lots of fun! And as if we hadn’t eaten enough, we stopped in Pullach center on the way home for gelato.
We were going to watch television to get TdF news, but the main television in the house turned into a Fernhörer (sound, no picture), then decided to turn itself off altogether. We watched a smaller tv on the top floor, while Hans joked about Siemens quality. Eric Zabel won his second stage this day. (It would have been three, but he was disqualified the previous day apparently for bumping someone at the line.)
Oh yes, and Robert called the Fiescherblick today, no problem with our arriving on Monday and not Sunday. Toll!
Sunday, 13 July – München (Pullach)
The day started out cool, but we ate breakfast outside anyway, giving ourselves another chance to admire Hans’ garden. His pink dahlias were especially beautiful. Robert and Hans had an early start going out on bicycles around 7:00 AM along the Isar, and doing some birdwatching.
A friend of the Pruggers, Dieter, joined us midmorning, and all of us but Hans drove out to Schloss Kaltenberg for the Kaltenberger Rittertournier, a fair very much like our own Renaissance Faire but set in the Middle Ages. It was lots of fun; the day was very sunny, there were many interesting things to see (and not buy!), good food, and lots of beer. Robert tried his hand at archery and got a bullseye! The highlight was the afternoon “tournament” itself, ten knights in full dress on beautiful horses displaying their skill in various jousting competitions, etc. The show was complete with numerous musicians and other artists, including a very young “king”, and many jesters walking about on stilts, in gorgeous costumes. All in all, very fun!
The day was long and hot, though, and despite drinking a fair amount of beer (König Ludwigs Dunkel and Radler), we were still thirsty. So on the way home, we stopped in Eresing ostensibly to see a fine baroque rococo church, which also happened to have a nice, small Gasthof, the “Vögel”, across the street. Dieter said the place was echt bayerische, by which he meant not touristy, with a dark wood panelled interior with green trim, fine wood-carved chairs, hand-embroidered and crocheted lampshades and tablecloths, fresh flowers on the tables, and a group of men in the corner at their Stammtisch. We stayed awhile enjoying our beer and practicing flipping Bierdeckels off the edge of the table into the air and catching them before they hit the table (or floor).
Monday, 14 July – München to Grindelwald
Too soon our time in Pullach was gone. We had packed up late the night before to get ourselves ready for an early 7:30 departure. We ate a fast breakfast and after saying our sad goodbye to Lisa at the house, Hans drove us to the Pullach station (stopping en route to buy us some fresh bread for the trip). He took a photo of us with our luggage, the train arrived, and we were once again off quickly without a chance for any long goodbyes. His standing on the platform and calling himself “Alte Opa” somehow reminded me of my own dad at Union Station in Los Angeles.
To the Hauptbahnhof by 8:00, and only some 15 minutes later our EC train #92 “Angelika Kaufmann” pulled out of the station headed for Zürich. Now we were really alone for the first time since arriving in Frankfurt, and it seemed odd. The best thing about the trip thus far was not the sights, but the opportunity to see people and renew relationships, and for me, to hear German and do my best to speak when spoken to. I was doing considerably better by the time we left München!
The train travel to Grindelwald passed uneventfully; we transferred twice, in Zürich and in Interlaken Ost. The weather remained cloudy and damp, obscuring our view of the mountains and even the Thunsee along the route. At Interlaken Ost we slowly got our supplemental tickets up to Grindelwald (135SFr/person) and hopped onto the cog Berner Oberland Bahn (BOB) for the 30 minute ride. As we pulled into Grindelwald, I could see the train station I remembered so well from our honeymoon, as pretty as ever. Unfortunately the view as we got closer was obscured somewhat by a large ugly “Welcome to Grindelwald” sign. Grindelwald itself seemed to have grown a lot, or perhaps my memory had faded after 13½ years? Hard to say. We slogged through heavy rain, getting thoroughly soaked, over to the hotel Fiescherblick, a pretty alpine wood structure away from the center of town and opposite the Grindelwald church. From the hotel one had, once the clouds and rain cleared, an absolutely stunning view of the “in your face” mountains and the nearby glacier. Not too long after we arrived, the rain lightened up, and then the sun came out, and we could only marvel at the beauty of the surroundings.
We ate dinner in the hotel, and then went for a long walk. We made our way about 2 km to the other side of town and re-found the Hotel Silberhorn, where we had honeymooned and which at the time was well-known as “the only kosher hotel in Switzerland”. The place didn’t look too good; the hotel part looked abandoned (and worthy of being condemned), and only a restaurant on the first floor appeared open, looking much more modern than I remembered. A shame, really – oh well! The role of “only kosher hotel” may now belong to the Silberhorn in Wengen.
Tuesday, 15 July – Grindelwald
Meine Füße sind ums Leben gekommen! Or at least, if my feet weren’t dead, they felt really tired after a long day of walking. The sun was shining nicely after a night of showers, thunder, and lightning, so we took the Grindelwald First Luftseilbahn all the way up to the First at about 7100 ft. (Grindelwald itself being at ~3300 ft.). From the top we admired the view and found some Alpine Chough before starting the long hike back down the mountain via Waldspitz. The Swiss either have a good sense of humor, or are incredibly optimistic, or maybe we were just slow; the 2’50” hike down (as marked on the signs) took us closer to five hours, and I thought we were making decent time. Hmm. The hike was steep to begin with and we had to hop over numerous rivulets before the trail levelled a bit through high, flower-strewn alpine meadows. The ringing of cowbells echoed off the mountains, and the view down to the valley below and peaks across the way were all spectacular. We stopped for a drink at Waldspitz, and watched a Kestrel harass a Golden Eagle, not to mention Alpine and Common Swifts tumbling through the air.
Nearing the bottom hours later, after lunching on a cut log bench with the mountains arrayed before us, we decided to take the trail fork that would lead us to the Oberer Gletscher and Eisgrotte rather than return to Grindelwald directly. En route we watched an avalanche pour down a chute – it was spectacular!
We made it to the foot of the mountain where the glacier and ice grotto lay above, totally beat, but I sort of talked Robert into the climb up to the grotto. Groan! 890 steep, cut-log steps awaited us, practically straight up the rock face. I didn’t think Robert would like it too much, but as he later said, “I paid 5 SFr and I was going to get my money’s worth!” The grotto was small but within the ice was a beautiful deep blue. And outside the views were once again spectacular.
We rode the bus back to the hotel, and headed out again quickly to get some shopping in before the stores closed at 6:30 PM, and to take a few more photos. I bought myself a small embroidered tablecloth, and only afterwards realized I had conducted the transaction all in German without a second thought. Ok, so that was much less complicated than a full conversation, but in any case, I figured I must be getting a little better.
Dinner was a very nice Wienerschnitzel with beer, and we wrapped up the day sitting on our balcony, reading about the Tour de France’s first day in the mountains, while watching the late sunset in the beautiful Berner Oberland.
I was so glad we had returned.
Wednesday, 16 July - Grindelwald to Aix-Les-Bains
The clang of the church bell got my attention at 6:30 AM, and we awoke to find an absolutely perfect day. Too bad we were leaving! But we at least had a couple of hours to enjoy a last look of Grindelwald before catching the 10:50 train down to Interlaken Ost. From there we sailed past the smooth, blue Thunersee to Spiez, Thun, and Bern; and in Bern, transferred to our train to Geneva with only four minutes to spare. Shortly before arriving in Bern we had the most beautiful view of the Berner Oberland in the sunlight - Wetterhorn, Eiger, Mönch, and Jungfrau arrayed before us.
The train skirted the shores of Lake Geneva, and we got a nice view of (we presumed) Mont Blanc in the distance. We had an hour or so to kill in the Geneva train station before catching our next (and final) train of the day to Aix-Les-Bains. The ride to Aix-les-Bains was only about an hour, and we emerged from the train station into ~90°F heat and somewhat high humidity. Across the street, up Rue de Charles De Gaulle, past the Thermal Baths, and onto Rue Georges Ier, uphill…trudge, trudge in the heat…and finally, Le Manoir hotel and restaurant. The place looked quite nice, surrounded by shady gardens with lots of benches tucked into different corners. I used my only complete French sentence ("Je ne parle pas français") for the second time (the first time being in Geneva at a newsstand), and then plaintively asked the reception woman, “Parlez-vous allemand ou anglais?” Luckily she spoke English and we conducted our business easily.
We forsook dinner at the hotel restaurant, as it was both too much food and too expensive, and I suspected we’d be underdressed even in a resort town such as this. Instead we slowly walked through Georges Ier Park back down the hill to the pedestrian zone, and had doner kebabs for dinner, followed by gelato (yum!). “Bummeled” a little bit before returning to the hotel to watch a little television. We caught some Tour coverage in the afternoon; for our evening’s entertainment, we watched a track meet from Nice on a German satellite station, with English commentary.
It was pretty darn warm in the room; we hoped it would cool off overnight if we left the door to the balcony open.
Thursday, 17 July - Aix-Les-Bains
German suddenly seemed really easy after trying to navigate in French! But overall we didn’t do too bad. This day was a relatively lazy one, a good thing since we were both really sore from our Swiss hiking day, and we both positively hobbled when trying to go up and down the stairs. The day consisted of a long, slow walk down to the Lac du Bourget, where we had a distant view of the Hautecombe abbey from the lake shore. In the afternoon we lay in our hotel room, after showering to cool off, watching two hours of Tour de France highlights on television. This day was a Tour rest day, and the television coverage reviewed the previous three days, starting with the first mountain stage in the Pyranees. Jan Ullrich of Germany was firmly in first place, with Richard Virenque in second; would they stay there?
We ate at an Italian restaurant for dinner, dodging rain showers en route and a woman pissing on the stairs in Georges Ier Park. We figured she’d make a good addition, despite being French, to “Germany’s Most Disturbing Home Videos” (referring to a hysterical skit, “Sprockets”, on Saturday Night Live by Mike Myers, around 1995) along with “dicker Mann in Babyhosen” (fat man in a diaper) and “Ameisen! Ameisen (ants, ants...guess you had to be there)!”.
Friday, 18 July - Tour de France Time Trial Day! - St. Etienne
At last! The day we had been waiting for was finally upon us. And a rainy start there was, too, but we travelled out of it on our 2-1/2 hours train ride from Aix-Les-Bains through Lyon to St. Etienne-Chateauxcroix.
From the information I had off the Tour’s web site, we knew the finish was along the Cours Fouriel, which we found on a map in the train station. Heading out of the station, it soon became obvious which way to go, what with a group of men with big Danish flags (for Bjarne Riis, the 1996 victor), a helicopter, and loudspeaker announcements, not to mention three Banesto riders cruising down the street. We emerged onto the Cours Fouriel to find ourselves about half a kilometer from the finish, with a good few of several riders rocketing past us down a hill and around the final bend.
Since it was early, and the top riders would not even start for about three hours, we decided to walk towards the finish and see what we could see. We had to take a detour to get around the finish area, and to our complete delight, found ourselves in the midst of all the team buses and equipment vehicles! We cruised past all of the teams, getting an excellent look at Laurent Brochard (Festina) warming up - awesome legs on the guy, like looking at an anatomy book - and further on, Erik Zabel (Deutsche Telekom, wearer of the green points jersey), also warming up.
It was still a bit early to see Riis or Jan Ullrich (current yellow jersey), so we continued ahead and not only found the starting line, but got absolutely perfect positions at a rail behind a plexiglass bus stop right next to the start, no more than 20 feet from the riders. We held our ground there for over 2-1/2 hours, through a short rain and an ever-swelling crowd, and were rewarded with long, completely wonderful looks at probably 80 riders. Some we weren’t familiar with, or couldn’t see the names; others were unmistakable, such as Laurent Jalabert in Once pink with a streamlined helmet, Erik Zabel in green, and of course the top five: Marco Pantani (Mercatone Uno), Bjarne Riis, Abraham Olano (Banesto), Richard Virenque (Festina; King of the Mountains), and the leader in the maillot jaune, Jan Ullrich. And the bicycles! Beautiful bicycles from all manufacturers, including Gazelle, Bianchi, Pinatello, Colnago, and even Trek and Cannondale!
Ullrich took off on schedule, at 2:10 PM, and the crowd at the start immediately dispersed. We took a few photographs and then headed “for home”, since we figured we couldn’t see much more results-wise, and our train options were limited.
Arriving back at the hotel around 8:00 PM, we found from television’s Le Journal du Tour that not only did Ullrich win the time trial, he caught and passed Virenque, increasing his overall lead by three minutes. The real battle would now seem to be for second and third places, with Virenque six minutes off the lead, and Olano, Riis, and Pantani all at around eight to nine minutes back.
A quick note about the television coverage - it was amazing. The French 2 and 3 channels had live coverage, which we actually saw only a bit of. Then Velo Club and Le Journal du Tour - interviews and highlights. The “Euro-Sport” channel carried highlights in the evening, where highlights really meant showing most of the stages, and here in Aix-Les-Bains, at least, the commentary was in English with Stephen Roche of Ireland doing the color commentary.
The next day would be the L’Alpe d’Huez stage, and we were due to travel to Geneva. We hoped there would be a television in our hotel room there so we could catch the coverage.
Saturday, 19 July - Aix-Les-Bains to Geneva
We left Le Manoir relatively early so we could take another stroll through the pedestrian zone to look for things before catching our train to Geneva. Basically all we found were locals doing their shopping at the butcher, baker, vegetable vendor, etc. So we dumped our remaining “small money” at a bookstore, picking up a French-English book for Maureen, and a copy of L’Equipe for me with the coverage of the St. Etienne time trial.
We arrived in Geneva at about noon, and although it was early, checked into our hotel (the Bernina, across from the train station) anyway. The room had not been made up from the previous occupant, but did have a television - hurray! - meaning we could watch the L’Alpe d’Huez coverage at 3:00 PM. We went out in the meantime to see a little bit of Geneva. As our hotel was directly across from the station, we were not in the best of areas, but a nice pedestrian zone was only a few blocks away, and across the river (or arm of the lake?) was a really nice shopping area. We had a good look from alongside the quai of the big water fountain, or whatever it was called, shooting water up a couple hundred feet. Quite picturesque.
Back towards the hotel, we visited the Bucherer store, and bought a gold chain for me (220 Sfr). The watches were stupidly expensive, though, and I didn’t see anything that looked as nice as my Bucherer honeymoon watch, purchased in Zürich in January 1984!
The Tour was on television (France 2/3) at three, and the coverage was superb, joining the peloton at about the 140km mark, outside Grenoble, about 63km from the finish atop L’Alpe d’Huez. As expected, Pantani, Ullrich, Virenque, and Riis, along with Casagrande (Saeco), led the charge up the final horrible ascent with its 21 switchbacks. Pantani, Ullrich, and Virenque soon dropped both Riis and Casagrande, however, and not long after that Pantani and Ullrich pulled away from Virenque, and finally Pantani dropped Ullrich. Pantani was out of the saddle, practically dancing on the pedals up the climb, while Ullrich stayed seated and simply muscled his way up the mountain, cutting all of the corners. Ullrich finished second on the day by only 47 seconds, with Virenque, the King of the Mountains, finishing 1:47 down. It was so exciting to see the coverage live! Unbelievable.
We’ll have to come back another year to “follow the Tour”, even if being in France is a little stressful language-wise. (The good thing was, being in France made German seem really easy.)
Sunday, 20 July - Geneva to home
Well, das Ende der Reise. Another good trip; this one especially so, since we were able to visit with nearly everyone we know in Europe. My German improved noticeably, and I hoped I wouldn’t lose it too quickly. Seeing part of the Tour in person and catching the terrific television coverage was also completely awesome. As usual, I didn’t really want to go home! But buying a Festina watch at the airport, and knowing Footsie awaited us, took the sting out of leaving. As well as knowing we’d be back, we hoped, with the Mansfield Chamber Singers on our summer 1998 European tour.
All in all, wir sind zu frieden.