The Road Less Traveled

LAST DAYS IN GERMANY

June 22, 2009: Munich

From Salzburg I took the RailJet (Austrian ICE) train to Munich, and went one S-Bahn stop to Motel One Sendlinger Tor (the hotel chosen by Business Spotlight). I spent over an hour checking email (free wi-fi access in the lobby). I also looked up the address and directions to the Free Ukrainian University.

I walked down Sendlinger Strasse past multiple shops to the Old Rathaus Square. I found the Fraukirchen and basked once again in the pious beauty of its vaulted white and red-brick ceilings.  I walked on till I reached the university, then the Victory Arch: “Built in Victory, Destroyed in War, Restored for Peace.”  I checked my map and realized I had gone too far; I needed to get into and down through the Englisher Garten to get to the Ukrainian University. I walked through the park past the “Chinese Tower” as the rain poured down. I found my way to Pienzenauer Str. 15, but there was no school there. I was disappointed, but I still enjoyed my walk to places I’d seen in 2005.  I had forgotten how charming Munich was.

I came back out near the neighborhood where Peter and I had stayed on my last trip there. I found a place called News Bar that had happy hour, a rare find in Germany. I ordered a Cosmopolitan and a spinach soup that was so good I stayed to have their penne pasta with cheese, also excellent.  I read the local newspaper while the TV showed MTV reality shows.

As I was getting ready to leave,  a show called “Parental Control” came on. I saw man say (with German subtitles), “Hi, I’m Jay, I’m a DJ”. His wife Linda introduced herself. I realized it was my friend Nick’s friends Jay and Linda! The odds of that happening are astronomical, and I took a picture of the TV with my camera and sent it to Nick just to have proof that I wasn’t using Cosmo goggles.

June 23-25, 2009

Dinner in Mannheim

The presentation at Business Spotlight went well. I had lunch with Ian (the editor-in-chief whom I met at the conference in Dnipropetrovsk and who invited me to give the presentation there) at a nearby Italian restaurant. I caught the S-Bahn back to the hotel, picked my things up, and caught the ICE train to Mannheim.  When it arrived, Peter miraculously was standing right in front of the door of my train car.  He was able to carry my giant suitcase off the train.  We headed to his place and I had the usual tour of what’s been renovated in his apartment since my last visit, but not my usual stop at his parents’ house since they were on their usual trip to the Black Forest for a week.

After settling in, we set out for dinner. We passed by a Chinese restaurant that Peter said was good and that looked nice, but I wasn’t in a mood for German Chinese food. He then said there was a popular Greek restaurant on the Rhine that his parents often go to.  That sounded good to me. The weather was much nicer in Mannheim than in Munich; it was warmer and drier.  We sat outside and watched all the ships and barges floating down the Rhine as we ate our tzaziki appetizer (a thicker, less herbed version of what I usually get in the States), lamb salad (the lamb was perfectly cooked) and moussaka (also fantastic), and drank our beer.  Peter corrected me when I said “Weissbier”, saying that term is only used in Bavaria; in Mannheim it is called “Hefe-Weizen.”

A Day at a German School

The next day we headed to Peter’s school at the uneducational hour of 7:00 a.m.  Peter felt bad that I had to get up so early, and I felt bad that he and the students have to do that every day.  He introduced me to the principal (who greeted me in German that I understood), then took me to the spacious teacher’s room.  Peter was giving a test the first two periods, so I went to another teacher’s (Tina’s) class.  Even at 8:00 a.m. I was surprised that students who have had several years of English could not say three words without switching to German, could not say words like “three times a week” in something approaching English.  In all classes I was introduced as someone who spoke no German so the students would be forced to use English, but when one student asked me what languages I speak, I had to be honest and mention some German as well as Russian. One student then told me he was from Kazakhstan, but when I switched to Russian he
couldn’t say a sentence in that either.

Upon leaving that class I was reminded that in Germany, the teachers move from room to room and the students stay in one place.  I thought that was really strange, and Peter added that it really makes things difficult when you have to set things up.  During a 20-minute break I drank some Viennese mélange (coffee with sweet milk) from the vending machine (70 euro cents), and met a woman who teaches Russian. She would have invited me to her class, but it only meets on Fridays and I was flying out Thursday.

The second class I visited spoke more English, though I also did my activity where everyone goes around the room and says their name and their favorite word in English to open them up a little bit.  The third class was the most enthusiastic about “asking the native speaker” questions; they even asked me to stay an extra period.  On the other hand, there was so much talking among students (which reminded me of Ben Rampton’s research except they weren’t always focused on the topic at hand) I often had to shout to ask them to be silent and listen to each other. I soon understood why Peter was losing his voice!

By the end of this class I was happy that I’d “done some good” but ready to say goodbye to the school. Peter had some last minute business to wrap up though, so while he did that I browsed through Tina’s copy of the “Abi-Zeitung”, a yearbook for students who have finished their Abitur (grade 13 diploma, the highest of three diploma levels which makes them eligible to attend university). On the way out Peter also pointed out a wall painted in sections by graduating classes, a concept introduced by the principal to reduce graffiti.

Peter drove back to Mannheim, and I said I was ready to try the Chinese restaurant. I thought they might have a lunch special, but in fact they had an exquisite buffet for 7 Euros with recognizable and high-quality Chinese dishes, dim sum (sesame buns and potstickers), and something that resembled kim bap. Peter said on weekends they have a very popular buffet with fish as well.

Saarbruecken and France and Flammkuchen!

Satisfied with lunch, we went back to the apartment. After a brief rest, we got in the car and drove to Saarbruecken, where Peter’s friend Christoph lives.  Peter pointed out the sign welcoming us to Saarland, which said in German, “It’s beautiful that you are here.”  We also counted and realized I’ve now been in 9 of the 16 German Laender (states).  So in addition to seeing all 50 U.S. states I now have the goal of seeing all 16 German states.

We picked Christoph up at his place, and drove to a park on the Saar river. We sat outside in the warm sun at a bench and drank another large Hefe-Weizen.  That really gave me a strong buzz, but I managed to walk with Peter and Christoph to Saarbruecken’s castle, which wasn’t even worth taking a picture of.  At least the walk along the river was nice.

We turned right and headed into the center of town, a surprisingly hip yet architecturally historic area.  Christoph said many young people from France (12 km away) come into Saarbruecken to have fun.  That didn’t sound good for France, but Peter knew after all the times he’d told me about driving to France for flammkuchen (an Alsace-Lorraine thin crust white pizza) with his friends that it was a dream of mine to do the same, and he wanted to make that dream come true.

We walked back to the car, and 10 or 15 minutes after hitting the road, we saw an EU sign (blue background with gold stars in a circle) that said “Frankreich” (France).  We couldn’t stop anywhere to take a picture, but it was literally a sign that we had left Germany and entered France.  It took a few more kilometers, though, until we left Saarbruecken city and started seeing road signs in French.

We stopped in one town, but found no place to eat. Christoph saw a sign that the center of that town was another mile away. We got back in the car and found the center; Christoph wanted to park again but I didn’t want to park till I knew there was a place to eat. Poor Peter drove around a bit and we saw nothing open. Christoph knew a place in Saarbruecken that had Flammkuchen, and since this town in France seemed pretty dead, it made more sense to head back.

We drove back and saw the “Bundesrepublik Deutschland” (Germany) EU sign, but foolishly I didn’t take a picture because I’ve been in Germany so many times.  It was only later that I really understood the significance of that sign, that there was no more border control. These were two states in the European Union.

After stopping one more time to see a historical restaurant, we finally made it to Der Flammkuchenhaus.  And what a fortuitous thing it was that we came back to Saarbruecken.  Der Flammkuchenhaus was running a special on Wednesday nights, all the Flammkuchen you could eat for 9.99 Euros per person.  They even used the English words “all you can eat” in the sign.

Our first round I got a small ‘Elsasser Art’ (the classic Flammkuchen with bacon and onions), Christoph got the “Special” (all that plus some strange orange cheese), and Peter got the Champignon (classic with mushrooms). We agreed that of the three, the Champignon was the best.

It had taken so long to get the first round we ordered the next round as soon as our pizzas arrived. I got the tomato and basil, which was good but as Peter correctly said really wasn’t Flammkuchen anymore.  Ditto for Christoph’s olive and feta Flammkuchen.  Peter got one with potatoes, and said he learned today that you should never eat potatoes on Flammkuchen. He said the second lesson of the day was that two all you can eat places in one day is too many.

Our last round was dessert: a large apple Flammkuchen a la mode, and a raspberry Flammkuchen. The apple Flammkuchen was okay; Peter said he’d had better apple Flammkuchen in a different part of France (that place is only open on weekends).  I was quite satisfied with the raspberry Flammkuchen.

By the time we left it was after 10:30 pm, but the sky was dark blue rather than pitch black.  I slept most of the hour-long ride home. I felt bad because Peter was tired too and had to stay awake and drive, but I didn’t want to talk to him to keep him up because his voice was so hoarse and sore.

The Journey Home

The next morning, Peter dropped me off at the train station at 8 a.m. on his way to work. It was far earlier than I needed to leave, but I couldn’t have gotten myself with all my luggage on the tram and didn’t really want to pay for a taxi or hang out in the apartment alone. I plunked down 22.50 Euros for the ICE train direct to Frankfurt Flughafen (airport).

When I got to the gate for my Lufthansa flight, they were calling for volunteers to take a later flight because they were overbooked. The deal was either overnight in a hotel, or a same-day flight to New York with ground transportation to Philadelphia.  Both options paid out the same hefty voucher.  I had to be in Philly for things on Friday, so I chose the New York flight, as did three other people.  They also gave us a 15 Euro food voucher, which I used at a newsstand to buy more goodies to bring home. I went 6 dollars over, but still feel I got a bargain.

The three other volunteers and I went out passport control and exchanged our vouchers for Euros. One of the volunteers,Yasmin, helped me find the best exchange rate—still way lower  than the “interbank” rate, but better and easier than anything I could get in the States and hey, it’s still free money.  Later another volunteer said I could have the money credited to my bank card.  That would have been better.

I’m not sure how or why, but somehow when they rebooked me and another woman, Yasmin, they upgraded us to business class.  This meant before the flight we were able to sit in the departure lounge, a quiet oasis with soft drinks, champagne, beer on tap, grilled sandwiches, beef broth, fruit, and more.  On the way out I grabbed Izvestia (a Russian newspaper) and a Russian magazine, signs that there are some Russians who are doing very very well.  On the plane I got a seat that lies all the way down, and plug-in port for my laptop at my seat.  So much for being a poor and starving student!

We were all amazed when we got off the plane, got through passport control, and our bags were there almost immediately.  I thought for sure they’d be lost or waiting for us in Philadelphia.  Yasmin predicted correctly, however, that JFK did not get the message/email from Frankfurt, and had not booked a shuttle for us.  The ticket agent started calling around frantically and said one would be there in a hour. That didn’t seem so long to wait. When the car did pull up, it was a limo.  I’d never been in a limo in my life (I went to both proms in a minivan) and I have to say it was the coolest ride from New York to Philly I’ve ever had in my life.  Somewhere in my wicked, miserable youth, I must have done something good.

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I’m not normally a “Europe in 10 days, if it’s Tuesday it must be Belgium” person.  But when I had the opportunity to go to Munich and found out it was only 2 hours from Salzburg, I couldn’t not go and see as much as I could.

Day 1

I arrived at the Salzburg Hauptbahnhof (Main Train Station) about 5 minutes late; it looks to me like there is construction around the train station that is slowing things down.  I had found a cheap hotel somewhere on the Internet, and per the hotel clerk’s instructions I dragged myself onto Bus #1 (2 Euros) and took it to Braunhausstrasse, then walked a few meters down Maxglaner Hauptstrasse to the Hotel Astoria (58 Euros per night, including breakfast).  Although it’s slightly out of the center, the bus was a perfect orientation to the city. On the way I saw places I would want to return to later:  Mirabell Gardens; Mozart’s Residence (Wohnhaus); a walking street with tons of people on it; and a path and bridge along the river.

As pleasant and inexpensive as the hotel was, I soon found out it is not wheelchair- or heavy suitcase-friendly.  I had to go up several steps to enter the hotel, and even the elevator was down a set of stairs. Going down is easier than going up, though, so I took the suitcase down more steps, took the elevator up one floor, then took it down two more steps to get to my room.

I dropped off my things, freshened up, and looked at the free map and brochures I had picked up in the lobby. I was very tempted by Fraulein Maria’s Bicycle Tours, but when I called to make a reservation for the 4:30 tour there was no answer.  Instead, I took the bus again to Mirabellplatz. By the time I got off it was pouring rain and I was glad not to take a 3.5 hour bike tour! I walked first into a church that had been bombed in WWII and restored afterwards.  Then I crossed the street and walked around Mirabell Gardens. Even in the pouring rain it was beautiful. The fountains, the immaculately sculptured gardens, the unicorn statues, and the baroque figures were all breathtaking. I later read in a guidebook that the fountain was used in the filming of “Do-Re-Mi” in the Sound of Music, but I remembered the arched trellis better.

From Mirabell, I walked to Marktplatz (Market Square) and decided it was time for some coffee. I found a passage to an Italian cafe so Italian the server spoke to me first in Italian. I ordered an Americano (it’s embarrassing to order that, but I like coffee with some water in it!). I asked for a piece of strudel, but he suggested something else instead. It turned out to be a profiterole—fried dough with chocolate filling and cream on top. And I asked for one portion and got three profiteroles. Oy.

From there I walked to Mozart’s Residence, not to be confused with the house he was born in (Geburtshaus).  The residence museum cost 6.50 Euros, or I could by a combined Wohnhaus/Geburtshaus ticket for 10 Euros.  But they said I wouldn’t have time for both (it was already after 4 p.m.), and that the Geburtshaus is on the other side of the river. I decided just to buy the ticket to the Wohnhaus.

The furnishings inside the residence were rather basic, I imagine because they don’t really have any information on what his house looked like.  There was plenty of other things to enjoy though. There were original letters written by Mozart to his friends and family about things like his successful opera concert and the death of his mother in Paris. There was a small collection of pianos and pipe organs he had played on.  There were maps and descriptions of various travels around Europe with his family. There was an explanation of his relationship to father-figure Haydn.  Best of all, the English audio guide (included in the tour price) played Mozart selections as well as explaining his history.

After the tour of the Residence, I walked across the river to the Altstadt (Old Town). I saw the Rathaus (town hall), and lots of modern shops in old buildings.  I saw a well dating back to the 1100s. I saw the University Church.  I saw a place for dinner that looked interesting, but it wasn’t 6 p.m. yet.  I walked on and found another place with an interesting menu. I walked in and at the back was a bar shaped like a horseshoe, and not much bigger than a horse’s shoe. There was disco ball and music blaring. I thought about pulling up and having a drink, but there was no place even to sit. I started to walk out, and it started pouring rain. I came back and a middle-aged woman had given up her seat for me. I had some cheap wine and older-tasting beer, but it was worth it to watch the silver-haired, mustached owner turned DJ playing songs and dancing to them.

For dinner (on the silent recommendation of one of the horseshoe bar patrons) I went around the corner to another café for Flammkuchen. There were two choices; one was Schinken and the other I could not understand. I took the one I couldn’t understand, which turned  out to be hot peppers. Yikes!  That’s the last time I’ll take that one.

Day 2

By the time I was up and ready for breakfast, it was past the 9:30 bike tour time.  One of the places listed on the tour, though, was Hellbronn Palace. Using a brochure in the hotel lobby and the kindness of bus drivers and strangers, I found my way to the Rathaus bus stop and Bus 25 which took a relatively short ride out of the city to Hellbronn Palace.  I got there just in time for a tour offered in German and English. The tour guide helped me understand why Hellbronn’s nickname is “Lustschloss”  (The Humorous Castle).  There were a series of trick fountains that could get people wet, and canals lined with miniature mechanical dolls depicting daily life in Salzburg a few hundred years ago. On a hot summer day it must be delightful, but on a cold day with on-and-off rain it was a bit harder to enjoy.

After the fountain tour, I walked around the palace residence (absolutely lovely), and took the path down to the “Sound of Music Pavillion”, the gazebo where Liesl sang “I am 16 going on 17” and where Maria and the Captain sang also. I was a bit disappointed to learn that the gazebo was not original to the palace; it was built for the movie and given to the city of Strasburg by the movie producers. Still, that was nice of them to give that to the city, and it was great to see the gazebo where that part of the movie took place.

I decided to skip the 27-34 Euro lunch at the palace, and the 3 Euro Wurst with roll didn’t sound appetizing either.  I caught a bus back to Rathaus.  I started walking towards the restaurant I’d seen yesterday, but it was closed! I forgot I was in Western Europe on a Sunday and not only are stores and supermarkets closed, but so are many restaurants. I headed towards a popular wurst stand in the main square, but by the time I got there it was HAILING. I didn’t want to stand out in the rain and eat, so I headed up the road and found Saran Essbar.  I felt a little cheesy eating someplace with Rick Steves’ (“Europe through the Back Door”) picture on it, but it looked nice and warm.

As tempting as the goulasch with breaddumplings were, my eyes were drawn to the Indian chicken curry.  In fact, when they accidentally brought me a sausage and potato platter, I sent it back and I’m glad I did.  The curry sauce was lighter and thinner than what I get at Indian restaurants in the States. The best part though was the FRESH CORIANDER. I’ve never had that in my life, and it was worth every penny.

When I finished lunch it was still raining, which gave me an excuse to stay inside for dessert.  They didn’t know what Americano was, so I ordered an espresso and their homemade struedel with ice cream.  Yum!!!!!!!

By the time I left, it wasn’t raining as hard. I found my way to the Residence of the archbishop, and walked around its impressive “apartments” (rooms).  With its impressive painting collection, treaty rooms, private chapel in the bedchamber, and a “blue room” (with light blue wallpaper), it evoked images of the Hermitage, the White House, and the Vatican all in one.

After the tour, I went upstairs to the art gallery. I was irritated to have to check my purse, even if it was for “security” (so I wouldn’t swing my bag around and hit someone or hit a painting, it was gestured to me).  I had to walk through the small gallery once to cool off, and once more to enjoy the collection.  By the time I left the museum, it had stopped raining. I wandered to St. Peter’s Cathedral, and around the impressive cemetery. Neither words nor pictures do it justice.

At last, I found the path to the Festung (Fortress). There were two ways to go:  the Festungsbahn (tram), or the “steep and difficult steps”. Since it had stopped raining and I had just fortified myself with a fresh bottle of water and a giant pretzel, of course I chose the difficult way. And they weren’t kidding. I stopped several times to catch my breath.  But at the end I was proud of myself.

The fortress itself wasn’t as exciting as it looked from the bottom of the hill, but there were many walls marked with names and dates of construction (15^th-16^th century, mainly). My favorite is the “torture tower”.  The best part of the fortress was that I happened to be there for a Mittelalter (Middle Ages) festival. There were stands selling corn on the cob and beer and chicken legs. There was a stage with minstrel performances, and little children with medieval robes, wooden shields, and swords they had bought at kiosks.  There was even some metalwork and woodwork.

When I’d finished seeing the fortress, I walked back down the steep hill (as children ran by me and parents ran to catch up to their children) and followed signs to Stift Nonnberg (Nonnberg Abbey), also a reported filming site for the Sound of Music. I saw a gate and the church and recalled the scenes in the movie that took place there.

I walked down the hill towards “Nonntal”, thinking it was a sight, but all I found was a nice neighborhood. I decided therefore to follow the signs back to the “Zentrum” (center), and found my way to the wurst stand for a bratwurst hot dog. While I was eating, I saw a sign in the window. In Spanish it said “Welcome to Salzburg. Here are some places we recommend. They won’t rip you off”.  One of them was the Irish Pub up the street, so I decided to go there. I had a couple of Irish coffees and chatted with the bar owner (from Ireland) about his travels around the U.S.. We also talked about Ukraine; he knew about Donetsk, Ukraine because their soccer team, Shaktar, won the UEFA cup this year and they played once in Salzburg.  He wished me a pleasant stay in Salzburg, but I realized as I was talking with him that this was the last stop on my two-day tour.