Day 5: Nuremburg

Today's experiences fishtailed from the sublime to the ridiculous and from the disturbing to the transcendent. Let me try to explain...

The outside of Courtroom 600 where the famous war trials took place after World War II. (Was "war trials" the phrase that leaped to your mind when you read "Nuremburg"? It was for me. I didn't know that there was particular significance to having the trials there; please read on.)

Believe it or not, tools made of chocolate in the Christmas Market. They were absurdly realistic! The shopkeeper demonstrated a nut screwing onto a bolt. Ridiculous! I considered buying some but didn't want the dilemma of eating the wonderful food vs saving the beautiful handicraft.

The main church and square on Nuremburg. I actually saw this Glockenspiel operate! It features seven electors parading by, designating the new king. The market was small (compared to Munich, I mean) but delightful. I had to sample the first half of the famed Nuremburg/Regensburg sausage rivalry.

In the church we were blessed with an amazing organ concert. The sound was incredible and the organist very impressive: I sat up front where I saw him playing the pedals with his feet as if he were effortlessly dancing his way through Bach and Handel. One piece he played was his own, which must be fun (the birth-death dates in the program for him were "1985-").

This is what Nuremburg means to the better-informed: the place with the Nazis staged their annual rallies to whip up the populace. Picture Hitler standing at the focus of this edifice: that's what it was for.

Here we have my poor photo of a bad building that now houses a brilliant museum. This is the inside of the vast Nazi amphitheater, based on the Roman Coliseum, that was an integral part of the rallies were staged there. It was basically a façade with just some brick behind the overwhelming-looking white marble front. The city understandably had little interest in preserving all these Nazi buildings, but according to our local guide, in the 1980s the attitude shifted from "let's move on" to "remember and learn". The modern metal and glass section is part of the museum (the "Documentation Center", it's antiseptically called): it symbolizes not just the modern undoing of Hitler's fascist architecture, but is just about literally a spear stabbing through the heart of the Third Reich. And there's even more: Albert Speer (which means what it sounds like in English) was Hitler's architect.

A photo of the iconic Nuremburg tower looking just like in yesterday's post, but full of Nazis. Absolutely chilling to look at, having just been there in better times. John and I could have spent days in this museum, and it's the one thing that I'm really sorry Dad missed due to his reduced mobility.

Day 4: Rothenburg and Nuremburg

We packed up from our Munich hotel and rode the tour bus to Rothenburg, a medieval walled city. Due to going Lutheran when the rest of the area was Catholic, the town stayed isolated and so didn't develop very much for centuries, leaving it in a rather pristine state. After walking around for a while, we got back on the bus and rode two hours to Nuremburg, where we met the ship.

Our group leader Mihai (Romanian version of "Mike"), who is just the history buff you'd want for a guide, explained the function of the Night Watch and how important it was to prevent fire and crime.

Dad hikes along the outside of the city wall. On the inside there's a catwalk on which you can almost perambulate the whole town.

Beautiful scene in a Nuremburg basement brewpub! The venue was nice as well.

The distinctive tower of the city, starkly lit at night.

Day 3: Munich and Dachau

John and Peg rented a car with which we drove 30 minutes to Dachau to see the house where Mom and Dad lived in 1947. It was fun to see Dad gradually remember specific places: where he had an office, the butcher up the stream, the stairs to the building housing the local HQ. We said, "It must have been nice for Mom to be able to walk right into town from here." Dad chuckled and said, "You have to remember: there weren't any shops open then! There was no activity like that at all!" Amazing to contemplate.

We drove on to Freising, home of the Weihenstephan Brewery, which is credited with the first ever addition of hops to boiled malt, i.e. just a little thing called THE INVENTION OF BEER AS WE KNOW IT. (Yay!) All around the campus there was the most wonderful scent of wort in the air. At the restaurant I had a Tafelspitz (boiled beef) that was the meal of the trip so far. And we had some beer: in addition to the standard excellent weizen, there was a Winterfest, a Weizenbock, and a Doppelbock: all delightful.

The "Mae West" statue in Munich. I like it!

Three words: "Liquid Strudel Cocktail". How can you not??

Day 2: Munich

In the morning we got on the bus for a tour of the city. We drove by the Olympic grounds (which are actually still in regular use) as well as the BMW factory and museum (where for the right price one can go to drive a new car off the assembly line!). The local guide was very good, but for some reason she repeatedly emphasized that King Ludwig I was quite the ladies' man (flirt, womanizer, gigolo, appreciator of feminine beauty, patron of painters who painted pretty girls, and many other turns of phrase). The other history is already foggy in my mind but due to repetition, that factoid is now permanent!

Royal residence with amazing gopher holes in the lawn.

The bus tour concluded at the Hofbrauhaus, where Dad, John, and I stayed while Peggy and Teresa went museuming. Truly a wonderful time we had sitting there with beer and strudel and soup, talking and watching the goings-on, which included an oom-pah band (quartet, really) playing periodically; a gentleman customer in traditional garb who sat an drank beer while one tourist after another sat with him for a picture; and the clichéd but awesome spectacle of dirndl-clad waitresses effortlessly hefting eight full beer glasses at a time.

John and Dad took a cab back while I walked around the suddenly sunny city in delight. Another weissbier may have been consumed. Also more soup.

Although in English people say "Christmas Market", it's really Christkindlesmarkt: Christ Child Market, referring to the angel making the announcement. So each town has a contest to choose a local girl to be the Christmas angel who opens the market at the beginning of Advent.

The sainted Hofbrauhaus in the distance. Did you know Mozart wrote some operas while sitting there? That's what he said, anyway.

Day 1: Munich

Dad, John, Peggy, and I arrived in the morning and rode a van to our hotel. On the autobahn we drove past the Allianz-Bayern football arena which looks like a giant tire on its side, but made of huge white teardrop-shaped acrylic tiles that glow in various colors. After learning how to use the U-Bahn (subway) we went downtown to Marienplatz, the big central square with the picturesque buildings and the big Christmas market.

We had a wonderful pub lunch here, if you can believe that.

These people trooped by in wacky (but warm-looking) goat costumes. Turns out the "Krampus" is kind of an inverse Santa Claus who torments bad children. Later they paraded all through the markets.

Ceiling of the Frauenkirche (St. Mary's by any other name), the iconic double tower in the drawing Dad has on the wall. I've always loved this vaulting geometry.

Peg on a side street looking back toward the Marienplatz. Advanced photo analysis indicates that there just might be a glühwein mug in her hand; she's probably just holding mine for me while I take the picture.

John brilliantly said we should climb the church tower a block away from the main event instead of trying to go up inside the Rathaus (the city hall) that has the Glockenspiel (the fancy mechanized figures that come out whenever a sensor determines that the tourist density is high enough). It was a fun stairclimb and a fabulous view!

View looking west with our hotel in the distance.

Frauenkirche!

Paddle Boarders

A Boy Ready for the Beach!