Help! I have places to go before I leave! From Friday to Monday, I had four days, and took day trips on three of them. The fourth day, Sunday, was just as important--brunch with Henry at a new favorite spot (Vorstadt Cafe, in our Schwabing neighborhood) and a stroll and rest in the Englischer Garten. I will surely miss the Garten, with its babbling streams and abundance of shade, a soothing balm especially on hot, sunny days.
On Friday, the forecast was for rain, but the moment the sun came out at about 11:00AM, I threw a few pieces of fruit, a drink, my camera, sunscreen, and my umbrella into my daypack and dashed off to Marienplatz to take the 11:30AM S6 train to Starnberg, at the northern tip of the Starnberger See. The clouds threatened, but held back the rain for most of the afternoon. The boat company on the lake offers a combined ticket for a two and a half-hour ride on the Starnberger See (see photos) and entry to the Buchheim Museum, just a short walk from the Bernried pier, about two-thirds of the way down the 21 kilometer-long lake. My only mishap of the day was on the return boat ride to Starnberg--the blog notes I jotted down during our trip to the Swiss Alps blew away into the oblivion of the Starnberger See!
The Buchheim Museum not only has a nice collection of Expressionist works (early 20th century--about as close to today's art as I can reasonably enjoy!); the building itself is architecturally quite pleasing (see photo). Were the weather a bit nicer, I could have seen the Alps from the deck overhanging the lake. Lothar-Gunther Buchheim, who amassed the collection, was a "renaissance" man in his own right. He was a successful painter, photographer, publisher, art book author, and novelist. I did not recognize his name, but am acquainted with his novel, "Das Boot", which was made into a Oscar-nominated movie in 1981. Both the book and movie have had worldwide distribution. I was willing to ignore the fact that the book and movie derived from Buchheim's position as an officer in the propaganda unit in the German Navy during World War II.
Henry and I took the train to Ulm on Saturday. On the high speed strain, the trip takes less than an hour and a half. However, we discovered part of the way through our outbound trip that the Bayern Ticket I purchased for us (valid for a day of travel for up to five people anywhere within Bavaria and to a few additional destinations just outside the Bavarian border, such as Ulm and Salzburg) was not valid on any high speed trains. As I expressed my lack of understanding of what the conductor was pronouncing in German, I noticed a number of other travelers among the several rows of seats around us stand up with the anticipation of viewing what I think they hoped was someone receiving a dreaded train fine. Henry kept his mouth shut as I gave up on my initial attempt to speak in broken German and I asked the conductor, "Sprechen Sie Englisch?" The phrase, which I spoke with some reluctance (not wanting to appear as a stupid foreigner), amazingly defused the situation. The conductor's immediate and unexpected response was, "Oh, English! I will let you go!" Our mistake was an honest one, but we decided we should not tempt fate on the return ride. We took the regional train with a number of stops and a change of trains on the way back to Munich. We didn't suffer on the two-hour ride; after all, I could work on catching up on my blog!
Ulm, about 90 miles west and slightly north of Munich, lies on the west side of the Danube River in the state of Baden-Wurttenberg. Neu-Ulm sits on the east side, in the state of Bavaria. The two cities offer sharp contrasts. Ulm has been in existence over 1100 years, and shows off the remnants of its fortification walls and medieval crooked houses in its Fishermen's and Tanners' Quarter in the Old Town (see photos). Neu-Ulm, which we viewed across the Danube, prides itself on its more modern architecture. For those of you who cannot relate to anything so old, Ulm's "relatively" more recent claim to fame is that Albert Einstein was born there. (No, I won't bother here with a pun about "relativity".) The Munster, dating back to 1377, is the pictorial highlight and claims to have the world's tallest church spire (see photo). With its 768 steps, the spire has more than twice the number of steps that my sister, Judi, and I climbed in the Stephansdom in Vienna (see blog entry "From Bad Tolz to Berlin"). Electing to walk around the city some more, rather than testing my stair stepping stamina, I surprised Henry by arriving at our agreed upon outdoor cafe meeting place before he managed to finish his cup of coffee. That was no big deal for me--I simply continued my unscientific experimental study of European ice creams!
Ulm actually offers more than its Old Town. The city has very pleasant promenades on both sides of the Danube, and one small enterprising entrepreneur operates a "Solar Flotte" back and forth across the Danube. For one euro, it was worth it to cross the river totally by solar power (see photo)! Ulm also offers several very modern buildings, the most eye-catching of which is the new city library, a glass-paneled pyramid in the shadow of the Munster (see photo).
On Monday, I traveled to Nurnberg, just over one hour by high speed train and a minimum of nearly twice as long on the regional train. Yes, I purchased another Bayern Ticket, but confirmed the train limitation before boarding the appropriate regional train! I did not expect Nurnberg to have the effect on me that it did. This is likely because I visited the Documentation Center for the Party Rally Grounds, a tram ride away from the traditional Old Town. In 1933, the Nazis decided to designate Nurmberg as "the City of the Party Rallies". Albert Speer designed parade grounds, zeppelin field and grandstand, Congress Hall, and huge stadium on over 60 acres of land in the southern part of Nurnberg. By 1938, when construction was halted (I'm not sure why, other than to direct concentration camp laborers to other war preparation work), the completed parade grounds (with a long, wide central path for Hitler's walk to the raised stone dais from which he brought the assembled crowds of soldiers, Hitler youth, and others to frenzied expressions of adoration of their Fuhrer) had been used for several annual rallies of hundreds of thousands of Nazi faithful. The Congress Hall, a coliseum-type structure, had been partly completed, and now houses the documentation center--a museum whose permanent exhibition ("Fascination and Terror") is described in the literature and audio guide as dealing with the causes, contexts and consequences of the National Socialist rule of terror. The exhibition is well presented and has received a number of awards, but I missed in the exhibition an expression of responsibility for following der Fuhrer. On its official website, the City of Nurmberg states: "The City accepts its responsibility in view of its history, and therefore endeavors to become a "City of Peace and Human Rights," informing people and sending out new signals of hope." In addition, since 1995, every two years, the city has presented the Nurnberg International Human Rights Award. Apparently, the decision to preserve the architectural remains of the Party Rally Grounds was a difficult one, and I can understand the considerations in favor of and against retaining this architectural legacy. Nevertheless, I cringed as I watched film footage of the rallies and saw the utter exhilaration of individuals getting a glimpse of their Fuhrer. The exhibition also included interviews with now older individuals who took part in the rallies and spoke seemingly proudly of how many times they saw Hitler in person. The exhibition explained the mythical image that the Nazi propaganda experts (including Leni Riefenstahl, director of the famous propaganda film, "Triumph of the Will") created and to which many Germans succumbed, but I left the Center feeling that the explanation simply was not enough to assuage my horror and sadness. Though visitors were free to take photographs of the structural remains as well as the displays inside the exhibition hall, I lacked any desire to take pictures at the Documentationzentrum and I left the city without buying a single postcard.
Upon my return to the Old Town, I took a recommended self-guided walking tour and ended up at the Imperial Castle, a reminder of times much longer ago and far less emotional for me (see photos). The castle dates back to the 11th century and was one of the most important palaces of the Middle Ages, especially with its strong connection with the Catholic church. Because of its age, it lacks the opulence of the "newer" Wittelsbach (e.g., King Ludwig II) palaces (see blog entries "The Home Stretch", "Here and There", "A Week to Relax"), but had its own charm (e.g., a tower providing excellent views of the entire city of Nurnberg (see photo) and a deep well cut into the castle rock).
Monday, August 24, 2009
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