Things I'm going to miss

In no particular order:

1. Gun control. I have yet to see a newspaper headline about someone being shot in Baden-Wuerttemberg. On the website where I check my hometown news, three of today's regional headlines are about people being shot: a seven-year-old hit by a stray bullet at an ice-skating rink in Charlotte, a Goldsboro teenager hit by a stray bullet while hunting with his father, a Sanford man murdered in his apartment. Germans tend to use knives to kill one another. When people fight with their rivals and wave weapons around to look intimidating, they're less likely to accidentally stab a skating seven-year-old in the knee than they are to accidentally shoot her.

2. Walkability. 90% of what we need here can be reached by foot.

3. A philosophy that discourages befouling one's environment. Germans recycle pretty much everything. The government offers incentives for reducing carbon footprints, from providing affordable mass transit to building extensive networks of bicycle paths. Solar panels abound on rooftops.

4. The idea that it is worth sacrificing excess consumption for improved quality of life. The grocery store on the corner is small, but it has pretty much everything we need, it's innocuous, and we can walk there.

5. Abundant farmers' markets that emphasize fresh local and regional produce. At the St. Urban farmers' market in particular: the ravioli guy, and the produce lady who always has a pear or apple or clementine for Elias, whether he's shopping with me that day or not.

6. Having an elementary school in the backyard.

7. Elias's third grade teacher, who is mature, laid back, practical, and enthusiastic, with sensible priorities.

8. A school system that gives teachers flexibility with classroom curricula, that maintains high enough standards for certification that no one thinks twice about trusting teachers with said curricula, and that doesn't mandate day after day of in-class, multiple-choice testing as a way to answer the question, "is our children learning?"

9. Trail-covered mountains five blocks east of the front door, and the option to walk or bike from any town in Germany to any other town entirely on designated pedestrian and bike trails.

10. The idea that all of society benefits when its members are well educated and in good health, backed up with a general willingness for tax dollars to go toward services that serve people other than oneself.

11. Alemannisch, Bairisch, and Schwyzerduetsch.

12. Rot Spaetburgunder, trocken.

Chilling out

After I made fun of the God Copy Shop yesterday, the Copies were displeased and frowned upon our efforts to go for one last long mountain hike today. When we checked the weather forecast this morning, we abandoned all hope of hiking the wet, windy Belchen. We decided instead to aim for something closer and lower, and drove to the base of the Hoernleberg, near Waldkirch. As soon as we got out of the car, the sleet began.

With no sign that the weather would let up, we got back in the car and headed home the long way, over the Kandel, figuring at least we might encounter a little snow. From the top of the mountain, we gazed longingly across the Rhine valley at bright, sunny France. The dark roiling clouds above the Schwarzwald ended precisely over the international border. The Copies were obviously pleased with themselves and laughing heartily.

We don't remember whose idea it was, or how it popped into whomever's head, but at some point on this cold, wet, gray day, we realized we should go find out what the Romans thought was so great about this part of Germany. Late this afternoon, we drove toward the southern end of the Tuniberg, to Freiburg's Eugen Keidel Themal Mineralbad. There, we immersed ourselves in soothing baths filled with natural spring water.

According to the literature, the water emerges from its source at 45^oC; the pool temperatures we enjoyed ranged from 34 to 38^oC. The water fizzes gently; it's chock full of minerals and trace amounts of heavy metals, with sulfate, hydrogen carbonate, calcium, sodium, magnesium, chloride, and potassium taking the starring roles.

We began our visit in the well heated changing rooms, went through the well heated showers, and emerged in the well heated indoor pool room. We spent much of our time swimming in the "Movement Pool" and appreciating the remarkably strong water jets that line half its circumference. Each pump is marked with a sign identifying the part of the body that will receive the theraputic water massage: feet and ankles; lower leg; knees; upper leg; buttocks; lower back; upper back/neck; and then the cycle repeats. You settle in front of one of the spouts, and when an innocuous chime sounds a few minutes later, you and the entire semi-circle of fellow water-massage recipients along the pool wall shift one jet counter-clockwise.

Another indoor pool is a gateway to the outdoor pools. You step in, walk between the strips of plastic hanging over the egress, and then you're outside with your head in near-freezing air and your body in stimulatingly hot water. The first pool leads into a cooler one that opens, in turn, into a larger circular one. Pumps along the latter's wall create a swift current that people ride in sweeping circles around a cental, walled bubble pool. Lights in the water illuminate the huge clouds of steam that billow into the dark night sky.

We left the baths feeling well-exercised, refreshed, and toasty, and glad in the end for the cruddy weather that drove us to discover this winter oasis.

Badenweiler and a ruins triple whammy

If one remembered to bring one's bathing suit (which, of course, we didn't), where would one go for a thermal cure around here? Scenic Badenweiler, of course! This morning, we drove 30 km south to this posh tourists' mecca, merely looking for non-rain. We realized it was a vacation destination when we noticed all the people out and about and all the stores open for business--in Germany on a SUNDAY.

Folks have been enjoying mineral cures in Badenweiler for at least a few millennia. The name "Badenweiler" means "Bath town;" the Romans, who also knew the pleasures of a good hot soak, had called it Aquae Villae. ("Villa" and "Weiler" are etymologically related; the German and Roman names mean the same thing.) In addition to access to the toasty hotsprings, the location provided the Romans with a strategically advantageous view of the upper Rhine Valley. Celts who were living in the area before the arrival of the Romans were assimilated into the town.

The ruins of an elaborate Roman bathhouse were unearthed in the 1780s. An excavated stone indicates the spa was dedicated to the goddess Diana Abnoba--a name that blends the Roman goddess of the hunt (Diana) with the Celtic goddess of the Black Forest (Abnoba). Today, the ruins are protected from the elements under a huge, arched glass ceiling.

No strategically advantageous view of the upper Rhine Valley would be complete, of course, without a 12th-century Burg built by the local nobility (Zaehringers, in this case), destroyed by angry peasants during the Bauernkrieg of 1524-25, further trampled during the Thirty Years' War, and rebuilt in the 17th century before being emphatically and permanently pounded back down by the French (1678). Yadda yadda, same ol', same ol'--and yet, how they beckon! Elias gave them a B+ (good variety, but not as extensive as Hochburg).

Badenweiler rests beneath the 1165m Blauen, so we decided to take a quick hike up to the peak. As is often the case, our "quick hike" morphed into an almost 10-mile trek through multiple ecological and climatological zones and ever-changing weather conditions. Our initial ascent was under bright sunshine with intermittent rain that shifted into fog. By the time we reached the Wirtshaus (inn) at the top of the Blauen, we were tromping through a few inches of snow. Elias, who hadn't been so thrilled by the steep climb, was beside himself with glee, thanks to the snowball lobbing opportunities.

After refreshing ourselves with nutritious ice cream and french fries, we continued along the ridge to the neighboring Stockberg (1076m), site of more ruins. Sometime around the birth of Christ, plus or minus 500 years, the Celts built a circular stone wall up there, possibly for use as a lunar observatory (according to our little Badische Zeitung pocket hiking guide). Given that these ruins are about three times as old as the Burg Badenweiler ruins down below, it was no wonder they were a little more ramshackle.

By the time we made it to Stockberg, it was surprisingly late, and we were worried about getting out of the woods before the sun set. We picked up the pace, and Elias earned major brownie points for his endurance and good cheer.

After school

While we were making dinner this evening, my mom asked, "Is there anything I can do for you?" Apparently we don't say that enough around our house. Elias's jaw dropped, he looked with awe at his grandmother, and he gasped: "Oh, do something special for us!"

Elias's school day ends no later than 13:00 every weekday, which means that in theory we have lots of afternoon free time to spend in culturally or physically edifying ways. In practice, Elias is tired of edification. We have finally found a compromise between his desire not to go anywhere and my desire not to stay inside being driven nuts by a hyper child: the school playground.

Most of Elias's new buddies attend a very laid-back after-school program at his school. There was no room for Elias, but the director said the playground is public space and he should come by and play with the kids when they go out to play, from 15:00-17:00 every day. As I'm still responsible for him, I can't stray far, so while he's busy playing monkey-in-the-middle and jumping rope, I jog circle eights around the block and across the school yard. Preliminary data suggest that if Elias falls down and breaks an arm, he won't have to wait more than 3 minutes and 35 seconds for me to pass by. Today I did about seven miles. The scenery wasn't as varied as up in the hills, but I did get ample opportunities to observe the goth Realschule (middle school) kids experimenting with cigarettes, iPods, and budding sexuality at the bus stop.

Getting lost

Last night, I got out my list of formal-you pronouns and phoned Herr Professor D. at his private number to talk about organ lessons. Even with the list, I panicked under the pressure of declining formal-you-accusative (Sie) and formal-you-dative (Ihnen), but deftly recovered by avoiding all sentences that required either. It was a pleasant conversation, and hopefully I will be back in the organ swing of things by the time we meet in person in September.

With little to do today between dropping Elias off and picking him up, I decided to figure out a new running route. My friend Robin has observed that running is a great way to get to know a new place. To that, I'll add, so is getting lost, which I'm quite adept at in Germany despite my Garmin GPS toy.

One of the many lovely things about our neighborhood is that you can be halfway up a small mountain and in the middle of the woods within about a fifteen minute hike. I carefully studied my city map before setting off and planned a mostly flat, 4-mile jogging loop. I hiked up to the fitness trail in the woods, and double checked the map posted there (which says, sunnily, "Exercising twice weekly makes you fit!"--an odd piece of advice for anyone with the energy to hike to the trail in the first place).

There are many more trails in the woods than are shown on the maps, and at one three-way intersection with five trail signs pointing in four different directions, I took the far left rather than the near one and zig-zagged a few miles down the other side of the hill, finally emerging near the University Sports Complex, considerably farther from home than planned. Fortunately, Freiburg is filled with helpful landmarks, including the Dreisam river, which I followed back into town. The path along the river is beautiful, with babbling brook, weeping willows, grassy playgrounds (one with a zip line!), gorgeous tall houses (think Chicago brownstones with a European flair), and fit students everywhere--all of which made getting lost on a leisurely afternoon well worth while.

Stefan has also been enjoying the easy access to mountains. Yesterday after dinner, he rode up Schauinsland--40 kilometers round trip, with an elevation difference of ~900 meters. He said there must have been fifty other cyclists on the road with him. I asked if he had passed any, and he said no, but that several had passed him. "Freiburgians are really fit," he explained--and this is from a guy who bikes to work every day and rides metric centuries a few times a month back home.