Elsass, part I

On Thursday and Friday, we made a westward excursion across the Rhine to Elsass (Alsace). Our tour began in...

...Gengenbach (in Germany, opposite Strasbourg). The town boasts a well-preserved medieval Altstadt of Fachwerkhaueser (wattle-and-daub houses) with an oddly out of place baroque Rathaus (city hall). Gengenbach's Stadtkirche St. Marien (city church of St. Mary) dates to the 12th century, but like most centuries-old churches around here, it has been renovated and revised and Baroquified and de-Baroquified assorted times. The church interior currently sports a late-19th-century take on a Romanesque floor-to-ceiling paint job (see here for the real thing). In sum, Gengenbach presents a loving ode to anachronisms.

We proceeded onward to Strasbourg. More Fachwerkhaueser, more charming narrow streets, lovely canals and a beautiful river, one picturesque scene after another--and then we turned a corner and went weak in the knees when our random meanderings brought us face to face with...


...Strasbourg's whomping huge, amazingly ornate cathedral. It filled our view and took my breath away. I've never been so overwhelmed by a building.

More strolling, followed by the requisite 4pm coffee and cake, and we were off again, now into the Vogesen--Elsass's answer to the Black Forest. And lo, we saw ruins, so of course we had to pause for a little ruins chasing. First stop: the Château de Spesbourg. According to a sign, the Château was built in 1250 by the Baron Alexandre de Dicka de Stahleck. What a great name. In the 14th century, the Château was taken over by the knights of the nearby village Andlau. In the 16th century, the good citizens of Barr (another nearby village) burned down the castle to avenge the dishonneur of a young Barroisie. (NB: don't abuse the hired help.)

From Spesbourg, we could see the next ruins over--the Château d'Andlau--and I figured I'd trot on over while Stefan, Elias, and Helen hiked back to the car. It was a good trot, but in vain: the ruins were closed for renovations. I guess even ruins need a little TLC every few centuries.

Lots of windows and one door in Elsass (Alsace)

Das Navi

After we left Tübingen, we amused ourselves by turning on das Navi--our rental car's GPS navigation system--and then ignoring its directions. To its credit, it didn't raise its voice at all, although when we turned off the highway into Donaueschingen to see the Donau Quelle (the spring that is the source of the 2840km-long Danube river), I expected its default soothing feminine lilt to say something like "ich sagte, links abbiegen, du doofer Idiot" ("I said turn left, you doofus").

Tübingen

On Tuesday, we drove two hours to Stuttgart to pick up Stefan's mom, Helen, whose tenant had driven her west from Steinebach to meet us. On the way back to Freiburg, we decided to stop off in Tübingen, location of the eighth oldest continuously operating university in Germany. The university was founded in 1477, some 380 years after Oxford, some 13,000 years after the area was likely first settled, and the very same year (surely not coincidentally) that Tübingen expelled all of its Jews (allowed back in 1850).

Unlike Freiburg, most of Tübingen survived WWII intact. The Altstadt thus includes many original wattle-and-daub houses, the oldest of which date to the 14th century; parts of the Schloss above the Altstadt are yet three centuries older. We thoroughly enjoyed our afternoon meander.

A developing relationship

On Monday, while Elias was off with a friend visiting the highest waterfall in all of Germany (die Todtnauer Wasserfaelle), Stefan and I caught a local train to Gundelfingen, then hiked toward Heuweiler, up to the Zaehringer Burg ruins, and back down into Herdern. En route we ran into none other than Frau L., proprietor of the corner bakery. I hadn't seen her since I almost burst into tears in her store in December--and there she was, picking blackberries in a sunny field next to the trail and enjoying the beautiful day. She handed us some berries and told us enthusiastically about a spot where "you can collect whole pails full!"

Today I stopped by the bakery to pick up some bread for dinner, and Frau L. recognized me from our hiking encounter. Suddenly we were on more than baker-eater terms, and the questions flowed: "how far did you hike, where did you go, how long did it take?" My answers were rewarded with more questions: "where do you live, how long are you here, did you make many acquaintances here in Freiburg?" And then, The Biggie: "oh yes, that's a nice hike indeed, Frau...Frau--Wie heissen Sie?" (How do formal-you call yourself?).

This is a big deal: you're an accepted member of the community when Frau L. begins to address you by your family name.

4th Place!

I forgot to report that Elias's lunch table at camp won "4. Preis fuer Tischmanieren" ("4th-Place Prize for Table Manners"). The teachers said Elias and his friends Johannes, Paul, and Ricarda really deserved first place prizes (which, trust me, is more impressive for what it says about the low standards here than for any active accomplishment), but the rest of the kids brought the table down. To put things in perspective, the total number of lunch tables was five.

St. Ottilien

Saturday was another lovely, cool, sunny day, so we decided to go hiking again. Because I had gotten a blister coming down the Belchen, we chose something relatively short and easy this time--the Roßkopf-St. Wendelin-St. Ottilien route. We were joined by Jan, a colleague of Stefan's from NCSU who is in Freiburg for a sabbatical.

Near the end of our hike, we stopped at the restaurant next to St. Ottilien for lunch. The current chapel dates to 1714, but the story of St. Ottilie reaches back to the 7th century: the blind daughter of an Alemannisch count, Ottilie was healed by water flowing from a spring that flows under the chapel site. The chapel is only open occasionally, so it was a special treat for us that folks were setting up for a wedding and we were able to take a quick peek inside.

It didn't occur to me to seek out healing waters for my toe. After lunch, to avoid further blister damage, I contorted my foot and got compensatory blisters on two additional toes. Ouch. When we awoke this morning, Elias cheerfully announced, "Mama, you can be happy--it's raining!"