Europe 1962 (Part 3)

Again, if you have not read Parts 1 and 2, now is the time to do so. This is the journal of my trip to Europe between my sophomore and junior years at college, as recollected 43 years later.

We left Berlin the same way we came in, naturally, again going through the various checkpoints. By now, the West Germans were my allies against the Communists, no longer were they Nazis out to get me. Unfortunately, the ride out was apparently not memorable, because I do not remember it. In fact, the remaining days in Germany are a bit sketchy in my mind. (I think we were in Germany for about 2 weeks of the 11 in Europe.)

Without attempting chronology, let me recall what I can.

1. We went to Cologne (Koln) for a brief visit to see the tallest cathedral spire in Europe. We saw it. This may have been our first stop after Berlin, although it would have been a long drive.

2. We went (not by boat) down (up) the Rhein. By this, I mean that we drove upstream, but down map, as the Rhein flows south to north. A number of things impressed me here. First, the scenery was beautiful. This was the first (but not the last) beautiful scenery we had seen in Germany. The northern part of the country (mainly, the former Prussia) is attractive and well tended, but not what you would call beautiful. As you go south, however, Germany becomes a visual fairly land.

The hills surrounding the Rhein and its various tributaries, such as the Moselle, are idyllic in their soft beauty; you understand why the vinyards here grow such fine grapes. The river itself, however, was probably the most trafficked river I had ever seen. There was a continuous procession of barges and cargo ships, putting the Mississippi at St. Louis to shame. The contrast between the industrial traffic and the bucolic setting was striking.

As you go down (up) the Rhein, you see castle after castle, each on a high hill or bluff with a river view, often in both directions. It is here that you can see Germany's history as a compendium of petty principalities, each protecting its own territory, and each concerned about enemies sneaking up on them. We toured a castle or two, and I remember my second venison meal in a restaurant overlooking the river. (Venison is still a favorite, but with my sheltered past, I think my two German venison dinners were a first for me.) I remember this restaurant for the wine (we had a lot of wine on this trip; it didn't seem to affect our driving; I do not think that the concept of a 'designated driver' had been invented yet.) and the deer meat, and also for the older (must have been at least 40) American couple having dinner there, and the husband saying to me: Be honest now, wouldn't you rather have a good cheeseburger? He became my idealized version of an Ugly American. My view was that there must be thousands like him, going into the finest restaurants of Europe and berating the waiter because there was no cheeseburger on the menu.

We also passed Die Lorelei, the rock made famous, or more famous, by Heinrich Heine, and which for centuries had siren-like cried out to and enticed boaters on the river. I was expecting something memorable. It turned out that it is a memorable sight, that is, it is memorable for not being memorable at all.

3. Bonn, then the capital of West Germany, is on the Rhein. It seemed modern, work-a-day and non-descript. You can see why the government was moved back to Berlin as soon as the wall fell and unification achieved. I understand that Bonn was Konrad Adenhauer's choice, because it was an easy commute from his house.

4. We then went to a suburb of Frankfurt (I only remember driving through Frankfurt, although we might have stopped) to the wealthy suburb of Bad Hamburg. This was a major event of our trip for me. For a number of reasons. Including:

a. I had no idea there were wealthy suburbs in Germany, with large, new brick one storey houses of at least the quality you see in west St. Louis Country, and at least as modern (perhaps more modern). Today, this would not surprise me, of course, but I had not seen anything like this (a wealthy residential area that looked more new-world, than old-world) in Europe.

b. We went there because E______ had had a German foreign student stay at his house for a year in Annapolis, MD, and we were going to visit him and his family. This was my first time in a European house. (Maybe that is wrong. I think we might have visited some friends of E____'s parents in London.)

c. While the exchange student (don't remember his name; E____ will remind me) looked like a normal 19 year old, his parents looked like the epitome of Germanic German Germany. Particularly his father, who was tall, stout, totally bald (probably shaved, I now realize), had a big German shepherd (do they call them German shepherd's in Germany?), and after lunch took a walk in the woods at a brisk pace with his dog and his walking stick. I don't remember how his mother looked, but I remember she served for lunch boiled beef and boiled potatoes. Perhaps this was their "Let's show 'em we are German" day. No one could do that every day, could they?

But this was only the cake; here was the icing. In a hallway that connected their living room to, maybe the kitchen, or maybe the bathrooms, or bedrooms, they had a wall of ancestor photos and drawings. OK, so a lot of us have something like that, but not many of us have two of the photos of men in Nazi uniforms, do we? I saw this after lunch and after our walk (both of which had already brought back my nervousness), and I wanted out as quickly as possible.

I also recall that the father was the General Counsel (?) and a Vice President (?) of BMW, and I think had worked for BMW during the war. BMW was one of the biggest user of slave labor during that period. (Who would have guessed that 43 years later, I drive a BMW?)

We left fairly soon, and I believe that E_____ stayed a few days and we returned and picked him up. When we did so, we and E_____'s friend went out for lunch or a beer or something, and I could stand it any longer, so I confronted him about the (to my mind) storm trooper pictures on the wall. I did not know what to expect (I was not nasty about it, but wanted to make my point), but assumed I would get some sort of defensive reaction from him. After all, I was attacking his parents. But I got no defense whatsoever. In fact, E_____'s friend broke down and started to cry. Once again, the feeling that I was in a land of enemies left me, and from then on, I have harbored no bad feelings about individual Germans who I meet, and have never had any problems traveling to Germany.

5. Without remembering chronology, I know we were in Stuttgart (looked very modern), Nurnberg (made no impression), Heidelberg (I liked the university area), and Rothenberg Ob der Tauber. I remember the campsite at Rothenberg, which was outside the walled town, and I believe down a steep hill. Rothenberg looked like it did in 1500, perfectly kept up or restored, a small town, dedicated by that time to tourism. I did not know, I do not think, about Meir of Rothenberg (my knowledge of German Jewish history was pretty weak), but I remember that we saw some extraordinary carved wooden altars in churches, including one outside of the walls, and near the camp. I am trying to remember the name of the artist. I think it started with an "E", but cannot be sure.

6. Except for a short trip to Berchtesgaden, our last stop was Munich. Berchtesgaden is closer to Austrian Salzberg than to any Germany city, in a small spit of Alpine country which juts into Austria, but is in fact Germany. This extraordinarily beautiful spot is where Hitler maintained his country residence and bunker. It is where you see pictures of him with Eva Braun enjoying tea in the outdoors. For this reason, Berchtesgaden is cursed and, I believe still, remains commercially relatively undeveloped.

7. Munich of course is the captial of Bavaria, and the mountainous Bavarian countryside is exquisite. You are clearly still in Germany, but it is a different Germany. Even more beer, if you can believe it, and more lederhosen, and beautiful villages, with their painted buildings, paintings of flowers, of scenery, and of people. The Bavarian village is very distinct from what you find in the central and northern parts of the country.

I do not remember if we found the famous Hofbrau Haus in Munich or not. Perhaps we did; perhaps it didn't exist; perhaps we found it and were disappointed. (As I thought I knew: Im Munchen steht ein Hofbrau Haus; ein, zwei, g'suffa: I have never known what, if anything, g'suffa means) Munich was a friendly city. We saw the Frauenkirche (I think that was the name of the twin spired church) with the glockenspiel that danced on the hour each hour. We went to the university district (Fasching?).

There was one bit of embarrassment in Munich that I recall. I asked the attractive young lady at our campsite how to get to the Opera: in my best, mid-west accented German, I said: Wo ist die Ahpra? She could not understand me, and I repeated myself again and again. I couldn't figure it out. Then she starting laughing at (not with, unfortunately) me, and said "Ahpra? Sie mussen Oh-Per-Ah sagen, nicht Ahpra!"

Well, we got to the Opera (I think it had just been reopened; I do not think we saw a performance) as well as to the (if I get it right) Old Pinkothek, the major art museum in the city.

End of Part 3. Next part, Austria, Italy and beyond.