Paris Pace

When I last posted we had just arrived in Paris.  The swanky first class carriage of the Jet Train provided a taxi booking service.  (That's how us rich folk do things, apparently!). So at the end of the platform, an Asian looking, French speaking taxi driver was waiting, holding a sign with our name.

He took my suitcase and guided us swiftly through a  maze of twists and turns, out of the station, to his waiting chariot.  No horses, just horsepower, these days.

Through the Parisienne streets he roared along, with me gazing in amazement and delight out the window.  We passed Saint Chapelle, the church within the Justice Complex, with the stunning stained glass  windows.  We drove over the Sienne, then turned immediately right.

Guess what?  Our building is on that street.  The river is right over the road.

But now we have, just like Elvis, left the building.  About 8 o'clock, 10:00 hours, we set off with three aims in mind.

1.  Gain a sense of orientation.
2.  Find some dinner.
3.  Get breakfast supplies at a supermarket.

We turned left, then left again.  At an intersection a New Orleans style band was playing with a crazy old French woman doing a weird shuffle dance all alone in front of them.  The trumpeter was even singing, a la Louis Armstrong "It's a beautiful world".

What emerged in this area was Little Lygon Street, French style, sans traffic.  The narrow streets are mainly vehicle free.

I concluded dinner with the most superb Creme Caramel.  I dipped my spoon occasionally into Rob's chocolate mousse.  I believed I made a great chocolate mousse.  Not now, I don't.

A few doors up was the supermarket, still open.  In fact, several stores were still trading and the many restaurants and cafes, all with outside tables, were doing a roaring trade.

Returning, Louis and his band were still playing ....  and Madam was still shuffling.  Was she part of the act.

We deposited the groceries in our apartment.  Despite it being ten at night, it was still light outside and a balmy evening.  Woodsie suggested we walk some more.  We crossed the road and I dreamily gazed down at the river.  Strolling to the right, you.could feel the pace and excitement.  People were everywhere.  Restaurants were still full.  Over the road past the bridge, from down a dark lane way came light and sound.  At the intersection of the narrow lane ways, all was movement and light and sound.  Street food traders, shops, people.   A carnival atmosphere.  It was amazing!!!

Passage to Paris

This morning, I was on Chief Suitcase Security duties at the Munich train station, when a man walks by with a serious look on his face.  I pointed to his tee shirt.

"You have to smile.  You are Mr. Happy.". He obliged, then scurried away from the Mad Woman.


We arrived on the correct platform.  We found the display which shows where our carriage will board from, between Points D and E, so walked all the way down there.  

An official approached and told us, for today, our train was leaving from a different platform.  We had enough time to walk back down this platform, over and right down the correct one.
Changing at Stuttgart (hello Gisela who was born, raised and went to Uni here) I was waiting for Rob who was in a bookshop, again on Chief Suitcase Security detail.  A young US couple parked their bikes right by me.  She went off so I asked him how the riding was going.  They were cycling around Germany and to date had all good weather.They are both in the US airforce.  He is a rescue pilot and instructor, with  Black Hawk helicopter with about $30,000,000 extra equipment in it.  He signed on for ten years, which starts once his pilot training finished, so he is just 5 months from the end of this ten year period.  He may resign; both were considering their options he told me.  


We found our new train and getting on board, I wandered past the correct seats, by mistake, to discover Gary and Jan from Denver, who we were on the train with to Vienna.  They have just had a restful few days around Lake Constance and were off for a week in Provence.  Regretfully, a train official told us we were in the WRONG one of the two first class carriages.  So down comes the luggage and off we go to the next one.


This train displays on the engine it reached 574.8 kmh on 3rd of April 2007.  I can tell you it fairly flew along the tracks  today as well. (Hello to Andrew, a train driver and enthusiast from Boronia.)


When we pulled into Paris, I noticed the America  woman in the row in front had two magazines IN ENGLISH.  I would have asked to borrow them during the trip if I had noticed.


"English language magazines," I lamented.


"You want them?"  she asked, handing over recent copies of US Weekly and People.  Now I can get the very latest update on Katie and Tom!!


God Bless America!!!

Munich Revealed

Although the modern history of MUNICH for tourists is strongly linked to the Third Reich, it is a city that slowly revealed its charms to us.  Our guide Eric yesterday suggested for many young Australians, they come for Octorfest only!

Our initial impressions were not favourable, but as we explored more, this city too has amazed us.

I love the way outdoor cafes line up chairs so their customers can sip and relax, observing the passing parade.  We have done our share of this leisurely pass time, usually when rehydration was called for.

We have seen some wonderful buildings. 

This view was the courtyard in one art gallery courtyard.

I loved the row of locks engraved with couple's names attached to a bridge in the English Gardens, remenisent of those Delanie pointed out to us on Ponte Vecchio in Florence.  I noticed many couples (though not just in Munich )where the female is significantly taller than the male, which is another social barrier smashed!!!

I want to know how lives in the top floor of buildings like this, peering out those attic windows?

I admire the artist Gunter Demnig who came up with the idea to place small brass plaques outside the buildings from which Jewish victims were taken.  A figure of six million victims is six million individual people.  

But most of all, I am just having a wonderful time!

I'll Never Step a Foot in Poland

Today was another walking tour: the Third Reich tour around Munich.  Munich was the launching place and power base for the Nazis.

Our tour commenced outside the Town Hall and our guide captured our interest with his opening statement.  The buildings of this tour geographically are not laid out in a way that suits the chronology of the historical events.  Eric, an American who came to Germany ages ago, has spoken to the Munich Mayor, who refuses to change things and, as he was reelected, Eric feels his cause is not looking good.  


And so we were off.  We were led through the front entrance to a large courtyard at the back.  This was one place the young artist Adolf had stood to paint his postcards.  Eric gave us an overview of the early life of this Austrian.  When his proposed life as an artist did not eventuate, politics became a passion.  "If only a young woman had distracted him," our guide lamented.


We went to the beer hall, where Hitler gave his first major speech.  Climbing the stairs to the first floor reception area the party hired, I remembered walking in Rome in 2003 along a road that both Caesar and Cleopatra had travelled.  That felt really special, to be retracing their steps. Knowing Hitler had tread these same stairs did not give me the same glow.

Apart from now having a stage at one end, we were told the beer hall is  ,pretty much in original condition.  One young New Yorker had been to this beer hall without knowing its dark past.

We learned that a brown uniform was used by German troops in their colonies.  After WW1 they 
 were forced to relinquish such land, so later a warehouse full of brown uniforms was acquired cheaply by this growing political party. 

Weapons handed in after WW1 in Bavaria was overseen by a man later in the party, who had 
"retained" enough in a stockpile to later arm the brown shirt thugs.

Walking along talking to a US tourist about antisemetism, this man told me he was Jewish.  I was so engrossed in talking to him, we realised we were not lined up with our tour group, but with a large group of German school children, out on an excursion on this last day of school before summer holidays!

We heard how their first attempt to grab power, the beer hall revolt, had failed and went to the spot where the troops set up the roadblock, killing 16 Nazis, that collapsed the coup.  Hitler's subsequent prison term for treason he used to write his manifest.  

One memorial we visited was a tomb honouring the Bavarian dead of the first world war.  The 
inscription refers to fallen  heroes.  On the opposite wall, the inscription after 1945 had a very different tone. A huge number was listed as "missing", lost on battlefields with Russia.

"This is an example of Germany's ambiguity towards acknowledging their past,"  explained Eric.  We had arrived at a small, grassy triangular area that was set aside as a permanent memorial to victims.  An eternal flame burns inside a cage.  What is clearly a calm place to reflect and remember has no park benches to sit snd do so.  A tree planted years ago on the corner is now so large it obscures the flame from the road.

 
Yet overall, as with our Dachau guide, Eric praised the German government for all they have done is creating and maintaining memorials.  He too asked us to name one other country that erects
memorials to acknowledge their past misdeeds.  "Where is the memorial to 250 years of slavery in America?"


Over the road now stands a large bank.  Only a plaque attests to its grisly past.  It was built as a retirementpalace for King Ludwig I, when he was forced to step down after a scandolous affair with Lola Montez!   It later became the headquarters of the Geheimen Staatpolizei, the feared GESTAPO.  

Along the way we saw new areas of Munich which were just enchanting.  Wonderful squares, gardens and more beautiful buildings.  One one, a former palace of Ludwig the First, renovations are underway, but the facade has been covered with a large covering showing how the building looks.

Our tour finished at Munich's Hochschule fur Musik and Theater, in Arcisctrasse, which was the Nazi party headquarters.  Even though Berlin was the country capital, Hitler kept the headquarters here where his rise to infamy began.  

On the facade is still the pole from which hung their flag  and you can see the marks in the wall where their eagle emblem once was attached.


We entered this huge building and learned it was inside that the "appeasement agreement" was finally signed, which was suggested by Mussolini but infuriated Hitler as he was ready for war. 


Eric told us of German payments to concentration camp survivors.  One man was nodding so I asked him why.  Because his mother still receives a regular payment.  More recently large Germany companies which had used slave labour during the war, contributed billions which the German government matched, in reparations.  I asked what made this happen, as they would not initiate such a fund on their own.  Eric's succinct answer was, "A New York lawyer with a class action suit."


Several men on the tour had U.S. Jewish family members who died, or survived, the camps.  One man's grandfather died in Dachau.  His mother and father both survived Auswich.  Another man's grandfather died in Auswich.  The topic of  the culpability and subsequent denial of surrounding countries was raised.  Places like Hungary and Poland actively rounded up Jews, handing them over to the Nazis, yet have not todate acknowledged their guilt.

One man, a gentle looking older man, told me fiercely, "I'll come back to Germany, but I will never step a foot in Poland."

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Rubens, Rain and Rissoles

Today there was a sense of our daughter Delanie's travels in our plans. She backpacked around Europe when she was 20/21 years old. On a tight budget, she would take advantage of the last Sunday of the month, when many museums were free.

Well, times have changed, but not much. The Alte Pinakothek and across the park, the Neue Pinakothek, offered admissio today  for €1 each. The Alte Pinakothek was founded by King Ludwig I displays early German and Italian paintings, as well as one of the largest collections of Peter Paul Rubens. A highlight for me was a small self portrait by Rembrandt, painted when he was only 23.


In the Neue Pinakothek, that is me in the foyer below) we followed the orderly numbering of many different spaces, 1, 2, 2a, 3, 3a, etc to wind our way around this large sprawl of rooms, to follow art development from 1800 to The New Style. Names like Goya, Gainsborough, Anton Graff, Joshua Reynolds, Constable, Manet, Renoir, Gauguin, Picasso, Matisse, Edvard Munch and Cezanne. We saw a 'Sunflowers' painting by van Gogh. Again, there was such a wealth to absorb, we relied on our audio guides to explain a few of the many art works displayed.

Next we walked in the light drizzle towards the enormous English Gardens. It was. Dauntingly and though we were there on an overcast, coolish, damp day, it did not stop many people from cycling, jogging or strolling along the many paths and tracks. Large open lawns were surrounded by tall trees, thick with undergrowth. Paths swept in wide curves off the main route, only hinting at what lay beyond. A canal widened into small lakes, with ducks and swans swimming around.



We finally found somewhere for lunch, a large beer garden. Most of the many tables were outside, but we opted for one at least under a large umbrella. A Chinese style pagoda nearby had a German brass band on the second level, oom path pah-ing various classical and popular tunes. I ordered meat loaf which turned out to be 'rissoles'. The potato salad with it was yum too, all washed down with real Munich beer.


Rob spotted one of the Canadian men from our Dachau tour, weaving his way through the large crowd seated at the tables. After lunch, we went over and were greeted most enthusiastically. Seems the girls regaled the guys with the tale of our Gambian Encounter. It turns out to were a couple, (Bahi was born in Munich to Sri Lankan parents who moved with him further to Toronto, Canada) but the other pair just friends. They convinced two German men to join us a while. These four fellow Commonwealth young people sure seem to enjoy each other's company and life in general. Noor, somewhat full of good German beer, had somehow to catch a plane back home within hours! It was such a laugh to spend such a fun time with them.

We made our way home without the map. Again, after a few days of walking about, we are gaining our sense of direction. (Well, Woodsie has. I tend to just follow.)

Past the store selling traditional Bavarian costumes.






Over the hinged flaps set flush in the pavements of large open public areas, which lever up and provide power connections to street vendors, etc.











Past the building near Marionplatz with all the bright window boxes, filled with summer colour.

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From 5.20 pm, (or 1720) for ten minutes, church bells boomed out as we passed nearby. It is Sunday here in Munich, after all.

Dachau Day Trip

Waiting in the Tourist Office for our tour to begin, I was writing in the travel journal my Delanie made for me. An Asian woman asked, "Are you writing your journal?". She is formerly from China, now living with her German husband and two children in Chicago. They have two young children, who remained at home with hubby and his mother. She is visiting friends in Switzerland briefly. Her daughter gave this woman's beloved, and highly temperamental, Siamese cat a shower yesterday "without permission".

Our guide arrived late due to SBahn construction work on weekends. He speaks English with an American accent but came to Germany about 4 years ago, to work as a guide. He tended to be a big "preachy" but one could not doubt his sincerity and his interest and knowledge. He was taken age 8 to his first propoganda film and believed all his government told him. His own mother, he told me, only had 5 years of school before her family was forced to shift to the country during the Cultural Revolution, to work.

I think his message was most governments withhold information from their citizens. He was full of praise for how the German government have preserved Holocaust sites and claimed, though not an official policy, school groups fill Dachau on week days as schools teach the true history of the Third Reich. He asked how many other countries could claim the same. He has met Japanese teachers who have paid their own way to China, to research the true history of massacres, etc., not being content with the sanitized version the Japanese government supports.

We boarded the train for the short journey to Dachau. And here is where the real unusual part of day happened. I sat next to a dark-skinned man with dreadlocks under his hat. Opposite were two young Canadian women, both elementary teachers, travelling with their partners, who were on the tour. One was part Indian; the other part West Indian; both with broad Canadian accents.

We three women began taking, and the bloke just joined in. He was a Gambian from west Africa, working in a Munich hospital and trying to develop his music career. What ensued was a weird and wandering conversation, much to the amusement of other tour members sitting nearby. The Gambian insisted on his photo being taken with me, telling me "You are the best.". When I suggested he had been smoking the "wacky tobaccy" he just smiled and laughed more. He insisted on having his photo taken with me.  It took one of the poor Canadian girls four attempts before he was happy with the photo.  He seriously explained that he needed to be get himself ready. 

On arrival in Dachau, we left the train and I quickly found Woodsie for the short walk to the bus stop. The poor former prisoners of Dachau had no such luxury. They were marched from the train to the camp. If anyone stumbled or fell, no other prisoner was allow to help them. The poor fallen persons was dragged aside and beaten. Many died on the short walk from station to camp. This meant their names were never recorded in the Dachau records.

We saw a statue later dedicated to these "unknowns". The inscription read: DEN TOTEN ZURICH EHR DEN LEBENDE ZUR MAHNUNG; which means HONOUR THE DEAD; WARN THE LIVING:

Blow me down, my new Gambian friend climbs onto the bus, to "say goodbye.". He shook Robert's hand and my hand and, thankfully, alighted.

The approach to the camp is green with trees, shrubs and bushes. It is like a well to do suburb, very peaceful. Such a contrast to the agony and misery of what once happened inside.But the tour group crunching across the gravel path sounded to me like marching boots. 

Dachau was once a munitions factory, with worker accommodation, which was forced to close as part of the end of World War Two treaty. As part of Herr Hitler's push for dominance, he probably arranged a fire at the Reichstag, blamed a Dutch communist on holiday, who was arrested before the fires started, then Hitler used this threat of a communist upcoming revolt for extra power. He promptly rounded up 4,000 "political enemies" and, needing somewhere to imprison them, used the Dachau site.

Only one replica barracks remains. In the first roon are the three tier beds of the munitions workers. Next we saw the more austere three tier beds of the Nazi prisoners.

One incident upset me. I had to really fight back tears. Some tourist kid knocked the beds and a small pile of stones clattered to the floor. He walked away and left them, but the stones got kicked about a bit. I knew Jews put a stone on graves as a sign of respect. Were these stones placed here for that reason?.We were told many suffocated to death in these cramped beds.  I walked over and picked them up and placed them back on the bleak bare boards of the bottom bunk.



Outside were the foundations of all the other barracks. Two rows. Many, many buildings.

We walked over to the crematorium. The old one was small, but as the Germans needed more efficient methods of genocide, they constructed the newer building. No records or witnesses exist to prove murder took place inside, but our guide did to believe this complex would be built and stand idle. I saw the chambers where they were de-contaminated. I saw the waiting room where they derobed. I walked inside the cement chamber with the "shower head holes" and the two places gas canisters were administered, to suffocate those inside. I saw the next room, where the dead bodies were collected.

 Then I saw the last room, the crematorium, where a row of ovens could incinerate the bodies. A whole row of them, with long slides to load in the deceased. This work was often done by Kapos, Jewish prisoners with special privileges, who, are guide assured us, were just trying to survive.


We were told about daily life in the camp. The roll calls that could last for hours. The punishments. The Commandant telling new inmates they were "just pieces of shit". How once they were assigned numbers to dehumanise them, they were no longer allowed to use their names; they were now just a number. It was a sobering experience. I could not get close to the desperation or cruelty of Dachau. It was just one, of course, of many such camps.

Kodak Moments

Last nightI was able to use the computer at our hotel and add a few photos to previous posts. In particular my 'brush' with the German Politzei.

Beautiful Bavaria

Our first impressions of Munich were poor. Few of the beautiful buildings we have become used to seeing all around us. The streets are dirtier. 

Plus, walking back to our hotel on the first day, we were standing with some others at a corner, waiting for the lights to change. An older man, maybe in his 60s, cycled up and stopped, speaking loudly in German to Rob and me, very clearly unhappy.

Pavements, we noticed later, were half laid with square pavers close to the building and had a smooth bitumen near the road. The man clearly thought we were not obeying the Munich protocols regarding free passage to cyclists.

So I turned to him and said, "I must apologise. We only arrived in Munich this morning." He didn't speak English which is fine as I only have a few German phrases, thanks to my dear friend Gisela. But his face instantly changed when I began speaking. He reached out his hand for mine, raised it to his lips, and kissed it in a courtly fashion. Crisis averted. Boy, are we careful where we walk now!!!

But this awkward start to our stay in Munich was well behind us when we headed out on our ten hour tour today, to see two of the royal palaces of Bavaria. The countryside was just so wonderful. Rolling green hills, then later mountains. Forests. Streams. And picturesque little villages, with white houses and terracotta rooves. The roads seem to nestle into the landscape. Apart from the main highways, the thin country roads have no gravelled area beside them, with another grassy strip to the farmer's fence. Here the crops grow right to the road side. No fences with pasture, though we saw a few when we spied a few horses or fat contented German cows in paddocks.

Schloss Linderhof was the only castle that King Ludwig II completed. He was a great admirer of the two Louis French Kings. So it is modelled on their Palace of Versailles. Now I have been lucky enough to tour this French Momument to Opulence. It is huge. What Ludwig has built was mainly just for him, as he never married and produced heirs, which I thought was virtually compulsory for royalty.

So it is like a toy version, though still grand, ornate and highly decorated. Ludwig's version of the Hall of Mirrors is quite clever. In one room, around five metres square, one large mirror is placed opposite a second large mirror, creating the impression of a long corridor of mirrors. Next stop was the "typical Bavarian village" of Oberammergau, oh ye of the Passion Plays.

More a Souvenior Opportunity. We were told that in the dead of winter, the farmers have less work to do so sit in front of roaring fires and carve wood. Given the amount of embroidered good also on sale, their womenfolk are right beside the stitching away. We saw many farm buildings on our travels today, with the entire south-facing roof slope covered with solar panels. I suspect these Bavarians are not quite so rustic these days. To be far, I did not find a "Made in China" sticker there.

We refuelled at the village of Fussen, at the Hotel Mueller. Then began the thirty minute trek up the side of the damn mountain to reach our second castle. Neuschwanstein. Richer tourists clip clipped past us in their horse drawn carriages. But we determinely trudged all the way up. Can you see the castle up the mountain?
 

Poor Ludwig never managed to finish this castle before some skulduggery may have finished him!! His ministers in Munich convinced a psychiatrist, who had never met or spoken to the King, to declare him insane. We stood in the very room where a delegation had informed him of this, arrested him and carted the poor man off to Munich.

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Mysteriously Ludwig AND THE DOCOTOR were found drowned in s lake soon after. Ludwig was known as a good swimmer, though he was somewhat "plump" at the end of his life, aged only 40. In the first castle we saw his dining room, where the table and the immediate floor around it, could be lowered to the kitchen below, set for each course, then raised again each time, where this solitary figure could eat in peace. Given he enjoyed 11 or 12 courses each meal, no wonder he was fat!!!!
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Ain't Misbehavin'

In Salzburg I left our faux cane sofas outside another hotel were we had stopped for "afternoon rehydration" and go  inside to pay. One man at the desk scurried outside to fetch his colleague, who had been sitting with an older couple just near us. He arrived, apologising, and explained he was with his parents. It was his father's birthday tomorrow. As he himself would be working, they had come to visit him.

 I paid and going back outside, approached the couple, acknowledged the woman, then swooped in on the man, said "Happy Birthday for Tomorrow' ... And kissed his cheek. He smiled and laughed. So did his wife. So did I. Woodsie somewhat glowered at me. "Did you just kiss a complete stranger?"

* * * * *

Just near an entrance to the beautiful Mirabell Gardens, three men with a large white POLIZEI van kept a keen eye on pesky tourists. Two sat inside; one stood nearby. I wanted my photo taken with that one. Robert protested when I handed him the camera. "Do you have to, it's embarrassing.". I approached my target. He pointed to a nearby tourist officer. "information," he growled. When I explained, he looked seriously at me, then put his arm around my shoulder, and asked, "you 'vont' me to smile?"

* * * * *

On our Sound of Music tour, Woodsie thought two women in mid 20s may be Australian. At one stop, I sidled up and said, "Vegemite.". An Australian accent replied, "you know or are you just guessing?" * * * * * The tour offered an opportunity for a toboggan ride. My sled was hooked up and I was towed unceremoniously up backwards. Unsure of what would happen, I was singing, "The Hills are Alive, to the Sound of Screaming, Aahh, Aaahh, Aaahhh, Aarrhhhh!!!"

* * * * *

Moving to Muchen Magic

Walking to the train station, I noticed several groupings of small square brass plaques set in the pavement, outside the entrances to various buildings. Details were given of various people "deported" from Salzburg. Interestingly, the date given was 1942, when we know the Germans arrived in 1938. I loved these little reminders of the past, of people who had lived here but were forced to leave and in most cases, were never to return. I am not sure of the exact wording but I sadly suspect the second date was of their death.

The train station, with large electronic boards, was again easy to navigate. (Better than us let loose in a city with their dinky tourist maps.) On the outskirts, leaving, guess what saw? A giant IKEA store.

Our train was scheduled to leave at 11:02. It did. We were on the two year old OBB rail jet, in first class. What an experience! A monitor above the aisle constantly updated information, including the speed we were travelling. Up to 120 kph this baby glides along with little noise and amazing stability. No 'clackety-clack' while you rock about in your seat.

Each individual passenger had arm rests and a headrest that curved each side. I noticed the service crew boarding at Salzburg. The blazers had three rings of colour near the wrists and they had small wheeled luggage, with long handleS, JUST LIKE PILOTS.

On commencement, a young woman brought along a basket with mini Kit Kats, to give to each passenger. There was a bistro carriage, but we could order direct from her and she would bring it to our seat. We reached a top speed of nearly 170 kph. Still the near silence, but a slight movement, a really tiny jostle about. The large squeaky clean windows again revealed idyllic countryside. Of course we saw some industrial sights, rail yards and more squat apartment buildings too. But lots of quaint houses, some standing alone, others in small groups or villages. Rolling green hills, where the pasture around houses has been mown and looks like giant meadows of lawn. Green stands of trees, some so dense they look dark inside. Lots of crops, that are not planted in vast acreages like we are used to. Small patches of various crops.

We are both surprisedf at how many plots of corn we have seen. As the lack of fencing was again evident, maybe that accounts for not seeing farm animals, pigs, herds of cattle or flocks of sheep. We can't have the odd animal straying on to the tracks, to slow up the schedule, as our train pulled into Munchen Hofbarnhof at 12.3o pm, right on time.

Doh Ray Me

The Sound of Music tour was great. A honey blonde (not natural) woman in her 60s in costume was our guide. Robert leaned over to me and whispered, "I think Julie Andrews has aged."

But Christina was great, with lots of local information as well. The film Sound of Music has increased tourism in this city.

She was able to tell us the real story and where Hollywood altered the truth for dramatic effect. Maria was born in Vienna and her mother died she she was two. She trained as a teacher, then decided to join the Nuns here in Salzburg. Captain von Trapp had married an English woman, Lady 'Something' who nursed her children with Scarlet Fever, then died of it herself. What to do? Maybe the nuns could suggest someone to help? Just like in the film, Maria was too lively and was not settling into this order where silence was a big part of their devotion.

 So they foisted poor Maria onto the Captain. They married in 1927, not in 1938 as the film suggests. Hitler wanted the family to sing at his 50th birthday and the Captain to be an officer in his Navy. So the family decided to leave Austria. They did not do the dramatic escape over the mountain. The mountain used in the film led straight into Germany, anyway. They used the mode of transport we ourselves will tomorrow ... train. Apparently Christopher Plummer did not enjoy working with children. For the escape scene, he declared, "I'm not carrying that fat kid over the mountain."

And he seemed so nice in the film. I was screened on a channel in our hotel last night so I watched it when we returned from dinner. Sort of a refresher course for today. We drove out to see the von Trapp mansion from the film. The building is now owned by Harvard University, so we could just gaze longingly across the lake. The real family home is in an area of Salzburg and only a mansion of twenty rooms. But you know Hollywood!!!

Locations all around the area were used. We saw the avenue of trees down which Maria/Julie danced and sang she had Confidence In Me. The real couple got married in the church of the abbey Maria had belonged to. But the nuns did not want the 200+ film crew upsetting their Silence. So a beautiful cathedral a half hour away in Mondsee was used. So I can say I have walked down the very aisle the Sound of Music wedding took place.

One really enjoyable part of the tour, apart from the awesome scenery and houses we saw, was when Christina put on the soundtrack and we could sing a long. Belting down an Austrian road, stunning scenery out the bus windows, belting out "silver white winters that turn into spring" and "climb every mountain" and "doe, a deer, a female deer" was such fun. The few Asian and Indian tourists aboard did not exactly pull their weight, but I probably carried them!!!

On return, we wandered through the Mirabell Gardens, shown above, where the children sang and danced around the fountain. Then we made our way to the Old Town again and paid to ride the funicular up to the fortress that overlooks the city. What a view it was! The old fortress was of interest to wander about, but I would have loved more information about how it was used.

A quick peep into the magnificent church after our ride back down and we walked back to the hotel. The light but persistent rain only started after we returned. All in all, a great day.

My Kind of Town

Salzburg is my kind of town. Do you know they offer several varieties of cake for breakfast? In Berlin, the sweet breakfast choices included these tiny morsels, profiteroles. The varieties of breads for breakfast too are wonderful.

 I am loving the dense, dark breads, often with seeds. And the slices are not large. Does that mean I can try a second one?

Last night we found the restaurant Pasta and Vino. Loud happy Itaians bustled about. We asked for the menu. Nope. They had three choices of pasta. We chose the pasta with chicken and bacon. It came out on stylish white dishes, that had a beautiful form. Dessert was only two choices also. But the food was just delicious.

 I guess almost anything would have been welcomed to us foot weary tourists after wandering the hot streets of Salzburg lost earlier in the day. And the bill was only €32, with drinks. Got the weather forecast on line this morning, via a UK weather site, for the city of Salzburg. Gave the percentage possibility of precipitation BY THE HOUR. We are taking our rain jackets on the Sound of Music tour today.

We can't visit Salzburg and not do this tour. We are tourists, after all!!

Random Thoughts

We have noticed one significant difference between car traffic so far here and at home. PATIENCE! No car horns blasts. Cars weave around these "ungridded" streets and show courtesy to fellow motorists. In Vienna we have seen large strong clear plastic bags on certain lamp posts with small coin containers,with each containing one type of newspaper. It seems an honour system. Vienna has far few cobblestone streets than Prague. But easy to walk on. Crowds around street buskers here clap and are willing to drop in coins. Of course in Vienna buskers are talented. No guitar strummers. Might be violin, cello and double bass together. Lack of street rubbish and graffiti in Vienna noticeable. Street signs on sides of buildings, not signposts. In Vienna the number of district is there too. City centre has districts 1 to 9; outside 10 to 23. Pillows (on beds) are larger. Wait staff wear belts with a purse to dispense change straight away. Spot the Aussie is my new game. I think someone may be an English speaker, judged by their face, clothes, etc. then I hear them speak another language. My method is neither scientific or accurate, but it amuses me. The long thin rolls we can buy for lunch are ideal. You can get the whole end easily in your mouth with no spillage. Why can't we buy them at home? Still amazed by almost total lack of street litter. Railway stations and platforms, public parks ... so rubbish free.

Navigational Nomads

Is it the city maps we are given, or is it us? Arriving in Salzburg, we booked into the MozartHotel and set out, map in hand, to see some of this city.

The friendliest man on reception drew on the map a few areas of interest. Turn left, end of street, turn right. Even we didn't muck that up. It was a tourist trap, er, I mean, main narrow shopping street, one side set hard up against the soaring rock face. Seems eleven men work after winter end each year on dangly lines to check all the sheer rock surfaces for small chipped or weaken pieces, to remove them and prevent SERIOUS INJURY OR DEATH by falling rocks.

Lots of tiny arcades of shops and cafes dart off everywhere. Down one we enjoyed coffee and cake, which had a tangy plum centre to offset the sweet topping. A great balance of flavour. Walking on, we crossed the River Salzach via one of several bridges.

 This led to the old area of Salzburg which is mainly pedestrian areas. Again, lots of tourist shops. We found an outdoor market.

Have I mentioned the amazing variety of fruit here, especially berries and cherries. I bought cherries in both Berlin and Vienna for about €3.99 a kilo and they are plump and sweet. Rob would not try on lederhosen for me, though we saw several local men in them. This is SLzburg Festival time. We saw some very expensively attired people, no doubt heading off to festival events. Don't think our jeans and runners will make the dress code.

Anyway, with the map we tried to find a lovely treed park our Reception Man recommended. Two points. We never found it. We walked off the cake's calories trying to. We followed the path by the river a while. Its narrow banks had many out enjoying the sun. On the other side were impressive houses, several storeys tall, in separate gardens, that wealthy "burgers" probably built years go.

We saw the unusual enormous city fountain built by some rich man, maybe an archbiship? with sloping entrance either end, for the purpose of washing horses. I kid you not!! It is quite a wrm day today. Another perfect summer day as long as you re to trudging along in the heat lost. We eventually found our way back. Time for a refreshing shower, then an even more refreshing beverage, strictly for rehydration purposes.

Ho Hum, Another One!

Another day. Another art gallery. Albertina, a short walk from our hotel. But first we saw a supermarket near the hotel. Think the David Jones of supermarkets. Over three floors, but not a large area, everything was beautifully displayed. Not long aisles but rectangular shelving you could move right around. Wonderful preps led rolls, paninis, salads. Coffee to go. Stairs or a glass elevator in the middle of the store. Next we visited St. Stephen's that dates at least back to the 1400s. Wonderfully ornate, interesting interior without the opulence of some Italian churches. I asked Rob to take my picture, but he snapped some old lady by mistake. (He told me it was me, but, really ....) After coffee in Stephansplatz, outside under a covered area, where we watched the passing parade of tourists and locals, we wandered off to The Albertina. First we used the audio guide through MORE royal apartments. Seriously, how many chandeliers and gilt trims can one take? Then we explored their "Monet Bis Picasso" display. An overview of 130 years of art history concluded with around thirty works by Pablo himself, including several ceramic pieces. Then we were enthralled by US photographer Joel Sternfeld's retrospective, covering more than three decades and some 130 works. We basically bypassed four further exhibitions within the Albertina and finished with their Contempory Exhibition. Tired from all this Culture, we sought refuge on the lawn, under trees in the nearby Burrgarten. It is a perfect day here in Wein (Vienna). It is a cloudless sky and around 25 degrees. Strolling on we went past the Palace Gate, through Heldenplatz, looked at the Theseus Temple in Volksgarten and wandered our way through narrow streets, all bordered by an array of amazing buildings. One I loved was actually quite modern. Haas-Haus was built in the early nineties of glass and bluestone marble. It stands opposite St. Stephen's Cathedral and fits admirably into the cityscape. We had lunch down one alley too narrow for cars, where we again sat at an outside table. In a medium size open area called Gra-Ben I found the 'Plague Column', a towering statue to the local victims of the Great Plague. So we are at our hotel again, which overlooks Kartnet Straffe, the main pedestrian shopping mall. Music from street buskers and the murmer of crowds can be heard below. Tonight we will visit Konzert Haus for another musical performance. It's just another day, really.

Vienna (ad)Venture

I am sitting in our sixth floor room, with the window open to a late summer evening, overlooking the main street, listening to the strains of 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow' from below.

This is a music city. It seems a city that respects and celebrates music.  Outside the Opera House this morning were various people in costumes of Mozart's era. All were flogging concert tickets. We are tomorrow night to visit another very grand concert hall for another dose of classical music.

Many of the souvenirs are music themed. Mozart was piped into our tour bus today. So many famous composers have lived and worked here. Statues of composors are in the various parks.  I even devoured a slice of Mozart Torte this afternoon.

Our bus toured the city then drove to another palace. This one was modelled on Versailles and was once home to Emporess Marie Terese, mother of the unfortunate Marie Antoniette. Due to an unwritten rule that family members would not live I. Royal apartments once occupied by others, they kept adding wings until the complex had over one thousand rooms. We only toured a few that had been restored. I loved the three metre tall ornate ceramic ovens in the rooms, which heated their private rooms.. They were connected to the corridors, where fuel was added, so as not to disturb the Royal Personages. So thoughtful!

Views out windows showed the extensive, colourful, formal gardens. Outside later, we saw enormous marble statues everywhere. Groves and avenues of tress stretched into the distance. Paths curved through lawn areas. It was so magnificent. In the afternoon, we visited the Museum of Fine Arts. One criticism I have is not many public notices have English somewhere to guide poor, mono-linguistic tourists. I only observe this as in Germany and the Czech Republic this was not an issue. Anyway, Kunst Historisches Museum was what we wanted. We initially walked past thinking it was the a natural History Museum. The €3:50 for an audio guide was a good investment. Two huge wings, 38 rooms in all, displayed a staggering range of Dutch, Flemish, German, Italian, Spanish and French paintings. One room alone had eight by Rembrant. I lost count of those by Rubens. Caravzggio was there too. You just cant't possibly appreciate it all. The building itself is worth seeing. Commissioned especially as an art gallery, the architects were not hampered by money restraints and used costly materials to create an ornate, highly decorated and totally grand home for all these treasures. No photos today. I took plenty but I just could not manager the weird hotel keyboard. It took me ages to work out how to put in @ The @ was with the q. Z and Y were swapped around. All the words were in German. It just got too hard.

Czech Mate

It seemed a simple task. Check out of Prague Hotel, catch taxi to trai. Station, board train to Vienna.

Our train ticket did not list the main Prague station we arrived at. So we were dropped off in a side car park beside a single door of a rather scruffy looking building. We entered a corridor and emerged into a dark area. Not many people around. We found a poster with train times, but no platform information.

A young Czech woman asked if she could help. She approached a ticket window we had not seen in the gloom and spoke for us. Platform 3 we needed.

Naturally we were there well ahead of time. We had about an hour to kill. But train stations so far have been a buzz with shops, crowds, atmosphere. Not this one. Think Greensborough station with two more platforms.

Then later comes the announcement. Our train Is running 90 minutes late, due to "operational matters".

Time eventually passed. Our compartment for six had leather seats ith arm rests. The only other passengers were Jan and Garry, a retired couple from Denver, Colorado. They have travelled extensively and are the sort of US tourists who give Americans a GOOD NAME. Great company for the trip to Vienna.

I can now claim to have met someone who worked on the Obama election campaign.

Rob went down the stairs ahead of me and a young man with a backpack offered to help me. He carried my suit case all the down for me, placed it down, smiled and walked off with his friend. So nice!! An Egyptian taxi driver, who has lived here for 30 years, took us to our hotel, which is right in the city.

We visited a restaurant close by for dinner. And Rob enjoyed a traditional dish, which he claimed just melted in his mouth. Vienna Schnitzel, of course.

Dark Clouds

Despite the sunny morning, we set off on the KGB tour of Prague, when the country was under the Soviet and Communist control.

We learned that after the Second World War, elections held in 1948 saw Czech people elect the communists, who formed Government with 4 minor parties.  Our tour guide said the Soviets had liberated Prague from Nazi control, so there was some gratitude there.  But after a while, the population suspected they had made a mistake and when a group of Ministers resigned, they wanted fresh elections.  But of course the Communists just took full control and so began the crushing of any political opposition.

Below is the former Head Quarters of the Secret Police.  Down the side street there was a further building with cellars used to interrogate prisoners. Our guide said if anyone mentioned   BARTOLOMEJSKA   you knew it was serious, serious trouble from ....

a nasty sort of fellow like shown below, perhaps???  Part of the tour was to an underground bunker, sixteen metres below.  Many were built all over Prague, to be used as nuclear safe spots for several days in the event of nuclear attack during the Cold War.  The plan was then to evacuate citizens to the country-side.  

Despite dark periods like German occupation and Soviet terror, this stunning city remains a beautiful and fascinating place to visit.