June 27, 2014, Gera-The wait for the train to Berga, while standing on the platform at Gera Hauptbanhof, was almost as long as the time I actually spent in the former prison camp town. It was due at 1:15, and came at 2:15. In the meantime, I was amused by a man chasing his 9-year-old son around the platform, as the child giggled and hid behind the concrete posts. This became the child’s fault, when the train actually did pull in, and Pater-Meister was embarrassed that the boy was almost hit. The boy took his tongue-lashing quietly, but I could tell he had no idea what he had done wrong.
The Jews who were taken prisoner, and given unwanted special attention by the Nazis, had no idea what they had done wrong, other than to be distantly related by blood to the Rothschilds and a handful of money lenders and grifters, who had contributed somewhat to the collapse of the European economy- a collapse which would have happened regardless of the level of mercantilism in any one country.
I digress, however. Berga, a small town southeast of Gera, was a satellite station of Buchenwald, the much larger Concentration Camp in northern Thuringia.(Photo courtesy of http://www.freerepublic.com)
Here were brought Jewish soldiers from the US, Canada and Britain, especially after the Battle of the Bulge, in late 1944, when Buchenwald itself was at saturation point. One of these was my future father-in-law, Norman Fellman, 6’3″ tall, weighing into the camp at 175 pounds. He was part of a group assigned to work a gypsum mine. He and his fellows walked up a trail like this, (Photo courtesy of http://www.thirdreichruins.com)
to a place like this (Photo courtesy of http://www.tripmondo.com), every day, for a hundred days. When General Patton’s men found him, in April, 1945, he weighed 87 pounds.
They spent time, after coming back from the mine, in this “work station”. (Photo courtesy of http://www.thirdreichruins.com)
The camp where they were held, from their capture in the Vosges of southern Lorraine, to the date of Gentle George’s arrival, looked something like this. (Photo courtesy of http://www.channelnationalgeographic.com)
Now, the area looks like this. (Photo courtesy of en.immostreet.com)
I walked around this decrepit, southern edge of Berga, even walking the periphery of the abandoned V-1 Rocket Factory, now closed off by a fence, with only a small security team allowed inside. (Photos courtesy of andrea-kublitz.de)
Understandably, Pop never went back to Germany, and the less said about that country in his presence, the better. I told him, two months before he passed on in May, that I intended to go to Berga, to try and put the ghosts to rest. Ghosts, demons, visionaries of Hell- they seem to hang over this part of the town, in a way that the giggling school children who were waiting at Berga Train Station can only dimly imagine. The kids, of course, were waiting for their families, from the north end of town. Few people live in the old camp zone- a farmer or two, perhaps even an aging former guard, released from prison to live out his ignominy.
Berga today remembers its victims and its enslaved “guests”, with this memorial. (www.en.wikipedia.org)
North of the train station, Berga could be Everytown, Deutschland. There is a bright, red Rathaus. (Photo courtesy of http://www.commons.wikipedia.org)
Not far from here, I guided a mother and small child to an ice cream parlour, where I had just stopped, perhaps to comfort myself and return to the more benign reality of this “new” Berga. There are churches nearby as well. I can only imagine what the churches, and the schools, impart to their patrons. Below, is the legacy of Marxism for Berga. These apartments are still highly occupied. (Photo courtesy of http://www.amberrom.org)
June 27, 2014, Gera-Thuringia has always been a crossroads, and was a vacation spot for the Prussians, in the days of Imperial Germany. Lying as it does, just north of what is now the Czech Republic, Thuringia was also a transmission point for the ideas of Jan Hus, in the 14th Century, as he challenged papal authority from his home parish in Bohemia. “Bohemian” became a synonym for rebel, while the Thuringians remained known for their hill country hospitality.
It is still thus, as far as the Thuringians go. I found Gera, a resort town where I spent my next-to-last night in Europe, this go-round, a relaxing and accommodating city. The Pentahotel Gera offered full buffets for breakfast and dinner, and the suite I booked was as well-appointed as any room I found elsewhere on the itinerary.
The day began in a low-key manner, with a simple breakfast at Pension Alpha, checkout and quick hop across the street to Frankfurt Hauptbanhof. There were two trains, and four stops, between Frankfurt and Gera.
Fulda was the transfer point for my train eastward, as the first train was headed for Hamburg- a destination for a later journey. (Photo courtesy of http://www.media-cdn.tripadvisor.com)
Eisenach is a largely-restored medieval town, with an inviting arch at the entry to its Zentrum. (Photo courtesy of http://www.orangesmile.com)
Erfurt is the capital of the State of Thuringen, and a vibrant city, reaching out to the international community. On this very night, the incomparable Wynton Marsalis was to offer “Classical Meets Jazz” Lots of artists have done such delicious musical blends, over the past seventy years or so, but I would venture none have done it better. He’s a master of both genres. (Photo courtesy of http://www.expats.cz)
Jena was the most war-devastated town along my route (I stopped well west of Dresden), and yet it has bounced back dramatically and well, with a fine university as its bulwark. (Photo courtesy of http://www.skyscrapercity.com)
Each of these cities would be worth several hours of a “stash-the-bag and hoof it” day or so.
I arrived at Gera Hauptbanhof, around 2 PM. The train station has expanded a bit since unification, which brought a well-deserved spate of attention to Thuringia. (Photo courtesy of http://www.bbahn.en)
It was a short, but appealing, walk from there to Pentahotel. The route took me through the Kuchengarten, a lovely gift from the days of Prussian rule. The pre-Kaiser nobles who ruled Potsdam and Berlin liked to vacation in Gera, and built the Theater, Kunstsummlung (Orangerie) and the salubrious garden that links them.
As I passed the theater, it was drawing a group of youth, who were to perform a play, and their families. (Photo courtesy of http://www.schlarafia-geraha.de)
As I approached the Orangerie, there were a few small children and a couple of teens being photographed at the fountain. I waited until they had their fill of selfies and splashing, then took my photo of the fountain, which was similar to the one you see here. As an example of the apprehension many eastern Germans still seem to feel towards visitors, the father of one of the small girls cast a stern eye on me, until I was well away from the group. Assimilation will take time, yet. (Photo courtesy of http://www.staedte-photos.de)
From Orangerie, it was two minutes further to Pentahotel Gera. I found the hotel about evenly divided between a busload of German seniors and a couple of van-loads of university women, who occupied opposite ends of the dining room, at both of the meals I took there. A young German man and I had tables to ourselves, in between the two groups. These were sumptuous, satisfying buffets, albeit in such a surreal atmosphere. The servers, though, were patient and polite with everyone, and the hotel staff was uniformly gracious. (Photo courtesy of http://www.venere.com)
Naturally,my inclination was to see as much of Gera as possible, on that delightful Friday evening. So, I started out, stopping first at Otto Dix Haus. The great Twentieth Century German painter was born in this house, in 1891. It’s now Gera’s Art Museum. (Photo courtesy of http://www.gera.de)
A short bus ride later, I found myself at Hofwiesen Park, more towards the center of town. I will be known for a time as “the American lunkhead who pushed the wrong exit button”. This delayed the bus for about a minute, and seemed to throw the driver out of sorts. Life went on, though, and I was delighted by the park. (Photo courtesy of http://www.gera.de)
Gera’s Arcaden is more akin to the malls found in our great land, than it is to the Soviet GUM stores of the Cold War era, despite the Stalinesque exterior. (Photo courtesy of http://www.jotz.de)
German teens abounded inside the mall, just as their contemporaries do across our continent, and across Europe. (Photo courtesy of http://www.wp.myshakeria.de)
Gera has its share of churches, two of the most prominent being Catholic. First, we see Johanniskerke. (Photo courtesy of http://www.gettyimages.com)
Across town,and up the hill a bit, is St. Mary’s Church (Marienkerke). (Photo courtesy of http://www.shutterstock.com)
My last view of the night was of City Hall (Rathaus). (Photo courtesy of panoramio.com)
With this confirmation that all is well in this border state, and that the eastern Germans are getting a relatively fair shake, I retired to my cozy suite at Pentahotel.
Left unsaid, up to now, is reference to my main reason for going to Thuringia: Berga, site of my late father-in-law’s incarceration as an American, and Jewish, prisoner-of-war, for a hundred days, in 1944-45. The borrowed photos I will show in my next post will convey some, but not all, of the emotions I felt, in the afternoon of that warm, but chilling, Friday.
June 26, 2014, Frankfurt-am-Main-Thursday morning was especially joyful, bringing with it a train and bus ride to the Baha’i House of Worship, in Langenhain, about an hour west of central Frankfurt. The train to Hofheim, from whence the bus went to Langenhain village, took about forty minutes. Hofheim lies at the foot of a forested hill region, and is quite picturesque, in and of itself. (Photo courtesy of de.wikipedia.org)
The bus to Langenhain was driven by a man who seemed ready for a long vacation- not happy with my broken German, or with the fair number of high school kids who got on at the central bus terminal, about 200 meters from the Hofheim Hauptbanhof (Try saying that, ten times fast!). We got to Langenhain quickly enough, though, and I encountered a couple of farmers, who were discussing goats. One of the men kindly guided me to the road that led to the House of Worship. I walked about 100 meters northward, and sure enough- there was the great edifice, the first of its kind on the European continent, a Silent Teacher of spirituality. This view, taken from the air, shows the true beauty of the surroundings. (Photo courtesy of http://www.abahaipoint.com)
As the staff were still at lunch when I arrived, I went clockwise around the exterior, then spent an hour or so in prayer within the quiet and comforting sanctuary.
Here are a couple of views of the outside. (Photo courtesy of en.wikipedia.org)
I was alone, but for two groundskeepers, who remained outside. My prayers for the world, for the US, and for so many family and friends, and the resulting meditation, were taking me into another dimension, in this hot, but blessed afternoon. Of course, the inside of the temple was airy and comfortable. The photo below was taken with many people present. On that day, however, I had the auditorium to myself. (Photo courtesy of http://www.bahai.com)
What really inspired me was gazing upward, at the dome light, which has the Arabic inscription, “God is the Most Glorious”. (Photo courtesy of http://www.emporis.com)
The House of Worship was completed and opened in July, 1954, a scant nine years after the end of World War II, and became a symbol of Germany’s continued recovery and of its re-entry into the family of nations. People all over the country and all over the continent, are proud of this unifying symbol. None are prouder, though, than the villagers of Langenhain, who told me on their own, of the Golden Anniversary of the House’s opening. It was held July 6, six days after I actually left Europe. Hundreds of people came from all over Europe, for the celebratory picnic.
There to greet everyone was the House of Worship’s caretaker, Erick, who gladly shared coffee and pastry with me, after my prayers were finished. His wife then took this photo, the only one that survived the file corruption of two weeks ago, and which now is the Home Photo on my Twitter page.
Recharged, and renewed spiritually, I went back to Frankfurt, to Pension Alpha and another round of World Cup matches. Dinner at a Fujien-style Chinese restaurant seemed only fitting, after spending the day contemplating the Oneness of Mankind.
June 25, 2014, Frankfurt-am-Main-Returning to Frankfurt, after nearly a month, I decided to walk north along the left bank of the Main (“Mine”) River and back south, along the right bank, noting some sights along the way. So, after settling in at Pension Alpha, chosen for its proximity to the Train Station, and enjoying a fabulous meal of braised lamb at a Bosnian restaurant named Imbiss Sarajevo, I headed out to the river bank.
Frankfurters love their river. I could see people celebrating their Wednesday evening, up and down both banks of the watercourse. Of course, this night featured Germany vs. USA, in a World Cup match, so the fact that all Frankfurt was out and about had even more cachet.
The first place I passed was Judisches Museum. (Photo courtesy of http://www.freizestars.de) Although it was evening, and the Museum was closed, I was glad to see such a prominent place for Judaism and its heritage in German life.
The Left Bank in this area is called Untermainkai, or “lower quay of the Main”. (Photo courtesy of http://www.tripadvisor.com)
By the way, a frequent commentator on this site is constantly wondering why I don’t use canned article formats from Google. The reason is simple, my posts need to reflect MY thoughts and MY style. Instant doesn’t cut it; so, thanks but no thanks.
Back to lovely Frankfurt. Karmeliter Kloster is basically what the name implies, a cloister for Carmelite monks, or it was,from 1246-1803. Now, it is an institute for Urban History and an Archaeological Museum. (Both photos courtesy of http://www.frankfurt.de)
St. Leonhardskirche, a Catholic facility, offered services in English, for foreign residents and visitors. It is closed for renovation, until 2016. (Photo courtesy of http://www.commons.wikipedia.org)
Alte Nikolaikirche is a Lutheran church, just east of Frankfurt City Hall, in Romerberg (City Hall Square). (Photo courtesy of de.wikipedia.org)
Romerberg itself is one area I would like to explore further, on another visit. (Photo courtesy of http://www.commons.wikipedia.org)
The Square was every bit as busy as the river banks, very similar to the scene in this file photo.
The Dom St. Bartholomaus, or Frankfurt Cathedral, lies “behind”, or north of, Romerberg. The cathedral was closed also, but here is what I saw of the exterior. (Photo courtesy of http://www.commons.wikipedia.org)
About a block from the Dom, I crossed to the Right Bank, using Floesserbruecke. (Photo courtesy of http://www.holidaychecker.de). The foot traffic was heavy, in both directions.
The Right Bank is largely a Museum District. There is one Catholic church near the river: Deutschordenskirche, or German Medal Church.
It is not far from there that there were sizable crowds gathered along the river bank, until twilight- which was still ten o’clock. This is the area called Schaumainkai. (Photo courtesy of http://www.skyscrapercity.com)
The Flohmarkt (Flea Market) is also here during the day on Friday and Saturday. (Photo courtesy of http://www.panoramio.com)
There are about five large museums in this district. Here are views of two of those: Museum der Weltkulturen (World Cultures). (Photo courtesy of en.wikipedia.org)
and Museum Giersch, which houses art and other cultural treasures of the Main River Valley. (Photo courtesy of http://www.lonelyplanetimages.com)
It was time for me to go back across to the Hauptbanhof area, and take in the rest of the World Cup match, being televised at a Brasserie patio. So, Friedensbruecke provided the means. (Photo courtesy of http://www.panoramio-frankfurt.de)
Although it appears to lie in a wealthy financial district, Friedensbruecke has a lively and prolific underground arts scene. (Photo courtesy of jwmn.naxosban.de)
The patio was full for a while, when I arrived, so I stood at the railing for about a half hour. A seat opened up and it was my turn for coffee and ice cream, while watching Team Germany prevail, 1-0. I did not call attention to my secret longing for an American victory, needless to say. The gentleman sitting at my table left, as soon as the match ended, but his credit card fold did not. So, after getting that bit of hardware to the Brasserie manager, I savoured the rest of a very delectable mocha ice cream “Decadence”, before calling it a night.
June 25, 2014, Heidelberg-It says quite a bit about a city, when one of its most celebrated citizens is a scientist and educator. I decided to stop in Heidelberg, on the way from Strasbourg to Frankfurt, and spend time in the Universitat district. Robert Bunsen, chemist and inventor, is the first prominent person identified with Heidelberg to be honoured with a statue. Although Ruprecht-Karls-Universitat was the first university in Germany, established in 1386, Dr. Bunsen,in his work at the University of Heidelberg, upgraded the institution to one of the top centers of scientific research in Europe. Besides the Bunsen Burner, he achieved a wealth of success in electrolyte research, and in advancing the metallurgy of magnesium. With Gustav Kirchhoff, he discovered cesium and rubidium. (Photo courtesy of de.academic.ru)
Today, the above statue faces the remaining hall of Ruprecht-Karls Universitat, also called Haus-zum-Riesen, still a center for Physical Sciences. (Photo courtesy of data: image/jpeg; base 64)
I debarked the train at Heidelberg Hauptbanhof, had lunch and gave myself three hours to meander around the university and walk a bit along the right bank of the Neckar River. The train station is a fair distance from Altstadt, the Old City, with its narrow streets and energetic demeanor- which always comes with being near a university setting. So, I took the reliable and crowded, but pleasant, tram.
Here is the Hauptbanhof. Although spare outside, I found it a relaxing enough place to enjoy a Wurttemburg-style bratwurst. (Photo courtesy of jaxstumpes.blogspot.com)
The tram deposits its passengers for Altstadt at Bismarckplatz. (Photo courtesy of stadtblatt-online, ww2.heidelberg.de)
The old campus of the University of Heidelberg is just off the Universitatplatz, where a group of British school girls were fawning over a bearded twenty-something German student, by the fountain seen below. Some things are just universal. (Photo courtesy of www.globopix.de)
Here is another view of the main building of Alte Universitat. (Photo courtesy of data/image; base 64)
After World War II, American philanthropists helped establish Neue Universitat, with its emphasis on the Humanities and the School of Medicine. (Photo courtesy of sccs 10.uni-hd.de)
Other sites of interest in the immediate university campus are its Library, or Bibliothek, a beehive of activity on the day I was there. That’s not surprising,as it was a Wednesday, and summer session finals week. (Photo courtesy of http://www.reisdit.no)
Studentenkarzer was the place where unruly students were sent, if convicted of an offense, by the Student Court. Eventually, it became a farcical place, given to partying. The practice of incarceration was transferred elsewhere, but the building is preserved, as a reminder of how things were done in the 14th-18th Centuries. (Photo courtesy of media-cdn.tripadvisor.com)
You can see just how punitive things turned out to be, in the long run. (Photo courtesy of http://www.travelswith divya.com)
Hexenturm, or the Witch’s Tower, is so-named to commemorate the cruelty of the Heidelberg Witch Trials of the Fifteenth Century. It was originally used, however, to incarcerate thieves. Part of the old wall of Heidelberg, it now stands on the grounds of Neue Universitat. (Photo courtesy of http://www.pausanio.de)
Heidelberg honours its lesser lights, as well. One of these was Friedrich Ebert, the first President of Germany, under the Weimar Republic, from 1919-1925. He ruled largely in an autocratic manner, with a fair amount of help from the military. This may well have made it easier for Hitler to rise to power, but to Heidelberg, Ebert is still a native son. His life’s work is still examined at the Ebert Memorial Institute, just west of the University. (Photo courtesy of ww2.heidelberg.de)
Now, let’s have a look at three churches of Heidelberg. The first is a Catholic church, St. Anna, also west of campus. It was originally a hospital. (Photo courtesy of http://www.commons.wikipedia.org)
Somewhat larger, and to the south a bit, is Peterskirche, which is ecumenical. This is the University Church, first built in 1192, even before the campus. It was modernized in 1986. (Photo courtesy of ww2.heidelberg.de)
Thirdly, here is Jesuitenkirche, or Church of the Holy Spirit and St. Ignatius, in the heart of the university campus. This is the largest Catholic parish church in Heidelberg. (Photo courtesy of data:image/jpeg base 64)
Time was getting short, as my train to Frankfurt would arrive soon. I ended this all-too-brief excursion to this regal little city, with a nod to the barons of Heidelberg, and a view of Kongreshaus, overlooking the Neckar. (Photo courtesy of web02.city-map.de_)
The barons who lived in Heidelbergschloss, the great castle, which I am determined to visit three years hence, built Alte Brucke, the oldest standing bridge over the Neckar, in this area, in 1788. It is actually the ninth such bridge built on this spot- the first having been built in the 13th Century. To the right, one may gaze at the tower of the Rathaus, or Town Hall. (Photo courtesy of image 1.masterfile.com/em)
Frankfurt, the majestic Lord of the Main, has its share of iconic sites, but no place has anything on Heidelberg. I have the sense that I have only scratched the surface on the land of my maternal ancestors, anyway.
June 24, 2014, Strasbourg- Of all the cities in France I visited this summer, Strasbourg presents itself in the most modern of lights, and, by a small margin, it is the cleanest. There is not an appreciable difference in ethnic make-up, nor are there that many fewer apartment dwellers here. Perhaps the presence of the European Parliament, on a day-to-day basis, leads to more social consciousness. There is also a more Germanic sense of order here, than elsewhere in La Belle France. Strasbourg was ruled by German royalty, throughout the Middle Ages and again from 1871-1918.
The first signal that this city was going to be different came at Gare Centrale, the train station. It’s covered by a plexiglass dome, resembling a crystal dirigible. (Photo courtesy of fr.wikipedia.org)
I got directions to my hotel-Le Petit Trianon. It is not, outwardly, a palace. It is on a narrow side street, though close to the commercial centre. The manager is only 25, but has a very shrewd business acumen, and will no doubt rise quickly, in a keenly competitive market. She looks like Keira Knightley, but talks like a kinder, gentler Leona Helmsley-nobody’s fool. I like Le Petit Trianon. (Photo courtesy of Hotels.com)
I had limited time to explore Strasbourg, before attending a Baha’i spiritual gathering, similar to that which I attended in Rouen, earlier in my sojourn. This was not hard, though, as the city centre is compact, and there is a reliable trolley.
First was the largest of Strasbourg’s many Calvinist churches: St. Pierre Le Vieux. (Photo courtesy of http://www.commons.wikipedia.org)
Once again, I did not venture inside any of the churches, save Cathedrale Notre Dame de Strasbourg.
The next stop was three bridges down the Lill Canal. Here was Place de la Republique. (Photo courtesy of http://www.ratestogo.com)
This is a monument to Those Dead in Winter- an homage to all who died in the harsh and combative winter of 1944-45. (Photo courtesy of http://www.commons.wikipedia.org)
On the west side is Palais du Rhin, a structure built by Wilhelm I, after Germany seized Strasbourg during the Franco-Prussian War. It is now a cultural center of Alsace. It is the structure seen in the photo above. On the east side of the park are two structures. First is La Bibliotheque Nationale d’Alsace. (Photo courtesy of generys.services.com)
I crossed the street, and the bridge, to L’Opera Nationale. (Photo courtesy of http://www.commons. wikipedia.org) The statue of the golden horse attracted a few homeless people, but they didn’t hang around long. I saw fewer homeless here than elsewhere in Europe, in fact.
This area, Place Broglie, is bounded on the east by Strasbourg’s City Hall (Hotel de Ville).(Photo courtesy of http://www.prixfacone.com)
Strasbourg, like Metz, has a Temple Neuf. This served as a hospital, in the early medieval period. It lies at the south end of Place Broglie, directly west of Strasbourg Cathedral.(Photo courtesy of http://www.commons.wikipedia.org)
Notre Dame de Strasbourg casts a majestic air to what is otherwise a spare concrete desert. This Gothic giant is the main remnant of Catholicism, in what is a largely Protestant enclave of Alsace. (Photos courtesy of http://www.commons.wikipedia.com)
From here, I briefly visited Palais Rohan. This has nothing to do with The Lord of the Rings. It housed the Bourbon kings and queens, on their visits to Alsace. Today, it houses Strasbourg’s major art museums. (Photo courtesy of http://www.visiterstrasbourg.com)
The entry way is framed by an arch, on the west flank.(Photo courtesy of francoisclaude.wordpress.com)
Along the Canal de Lill, I came to Corbeau, and the old Customs House (Hotel de la Douane). (Photo courtesy of http://www.panoramie.com) As you might guess, the canals take the place of parks, as the center of social life in Strasbourg.
Nowhere is more crucial to this than La Petite France, the area of three covered bridges, built by the edict of Louis XV. (Photo courtesy of http://www.shutterstock.com) Then, as now, this was France’s window on the Rhine.
La Terrasse Panoramique was the Bourbons’ window on the great river, and was built by Sebastien de Vauban, the great military strategist. (Photo courtesy of JM Rauschenbach @ http://www.clipimage.net)
It was time for me to leave the crowds at La Petite France behind, and join my Baha’i friends at their centre, on Rue des Veaux. It is in a densely-populated, but well-lit neighbourhood. Alsace has been a forward-looking area, and I felt a welcoming spirit here. (Photo courtesy of http://www.espaces-commerces.fr)
So, my time in France wound down on a very sweet note. My thanks to all the Baha’i friends in Strasbourg for the uplifting Spiritual Feast, and to all, across the areas of Alsace and Lorraine who made these two days richer and more informative than I had anticipated. It would shortly be time to return to Germany, for four quick days.
June 23, 2014, Metz- Metz on a work day is quieter along the river, but no less frenetic about the streets and alleys. I was given to overthinking about certain directions I was given, before finding the store where I could get the laundry soap I so desperately needed, with eight days worth of dirty clothes. It’d be the last chance I had to get the clothes done, before heading back to the States on Sunday, since Frankfurt’s laundries pretty much shut down at 8 PM, Friday night. So, thanks to ResidHome, a big headache was made less.
Walking back along Avenue Foch, towards the University District, I saw more activity than on Sunday (Photo courtesy of marc.metz.moselle.eklablog.com)
You can see that this rather industrialized city goes to considerable lengths to maintain beauty. Now, let’s look at Saint-Pierre aux Nonnaines, near the Water Park, which I visited on June 22. The young lady minding the church waited for me to complete my meanderings, before closing up and heading for the rest of her day. This never ceased to touch my heart- the way the students who kept watch over tourist sites went out of their way to accommodate. At any rate, this edifice began life in 380 AD, as a Roman gymnasium. It was converted into a church in the Seventh Century. Since 1970, it has been Metz Water Park’s concert hall.(Photos, courtesy of en.wikipedia.org)
My next stop, in Coeur de Ville, the Heart of Old Metz, was Temple Neuf, which overlooks the Moselle. This German Lutheran church was built in 1904, while Lorraine was under German rule. (Photo courtesy of http://www.flickr.com/photos/wolfgangstaudt).
Having spent time around Metz Cathedral on Sunday evening, I focused the rest of my time in Coeur de Ville checking out L’Opera Theatre and reading my e-mails, courtesy of Nicolas, the kind clerk at Metz Tourist Office. Below, is L’Opera Theatre. (Photo courtesy of tout-metz.com)
It was lunch time, as I left Coeur de Ville, and headed into the University District. “Boogie Burger”, a tiny, new emportee (take-out) establishment, fit my mood perfectly. I selected my second, and last, American-style cheeseburger and frites of the trip, and found a nice picnic spot along the Moselle. It was a bit of a challenge finding a spot that was not within eyesight of couples trying for a few minutes of mid-day privacy, but I did find it, and reveled in the quiet warmth.
Walking along the bridges and alley, west of the University of Lorraine au Metz, I came upon Le Pont des Morts, so named because it was built in the thick of Metz’s being ravaged by the Black Plague. You can spot Temple Neuf and Metz Cathedral, to the north and west, respectively. (Photo courtesy of http://www.metz.fr)
I made a brief visit to the campus of Universite du Lorraine au Metz, just to get a feel for the ambiance of a collegiate setting in France. Many people were about outside, as it seemed to be the tail-end of the lunch hour, which in France is still nearly two hours. (Photo courtesy of poncelet.sciences.univ-metz.fr)
The route to the great towers and ramparts of northwest Metz took me past three more houses of worship.
First was L’Eglise Saint-Vincent. This Gothic church is, along with Metz Cathedral, a reminder of the three-hundred years when Metz was a Free City, within the German Confederation.(Photo courtesy of saintvincentmetz.wordpress.com)
The next house of worship was the Synagogue de Metz, built in 1609. Louis XIV visited this temple, with his younger brother, in 1657. The future Louis XVIII would visit there as well, prior to the social conflagration which led to his brother’s and sister-in-law’s deaths. (Photo courtesy of commons.wikimedia.org)
L’Eglise Sainte Segolene, named for an Albigensian Christian, Segolene, who preached a gospel of simplicity and fervour, in Metz, during the Thirteenth Century, was itself built in 1250, on the site of an earlier chapel. Photo courtesy of edifices.religieux.free.fr)
As I did not enter any of these buildings, and want to keep this as authentic an account of my own sojourn, in the absence of my photos, let us continue onward, to Le Tour des Esprits, and the Ramparts. Here, I encountered small groups of families, enjoying an early day of summer vacation. The largely Roma, North African and Congolese residents of this area, and of the apartments near Bellecroix, view outsiders with a fair amount of suspicion. It was with surprise and relief, therefore, that a woman whose child had tossed a soccer ball outside the fenced play area, saw me waiting a safe distance away, while she went and retrieved the ball.
First, you see the Rampart Walk, along the moat built by the Council of Metz, to keep out raiding neighbours, in the chaotic Thirteenth Century. (Photo courtesy of marc.metz.moselle.eklablog.com)
Commons.wikimedia.org also offers this view of Pont des Griles de la Basse Seille, the bridge which connects Tour des Esprits with the rest of the fortress.
As you can imagine, I was one of five or six visitors who got up on the ramparts and followed the walkway, as well as going down and exploring the moat path, until it was blocked by a medieval wall.
Here is a view of Tour du Diable, the easternmost segment of this fortress.
I proceeded to Tour des Chandeliers, one of the towers built by guild members, to safeguard their trades. The candlemakers put up this impressive fortification. (Photo courtesy of commons.wikipedia.org)
Now for the piece de resistance of the Metz Ramparts: Le Port des Allemandes. This magnificent structure was built by the Knights Teutonic, an order of health care providers, who offered a hospice nearby, as the area dealt with the aftermath of Black Plague. The bridge spans the Seille River, which flows into the Moselle, a bit further to the south and west. I was not permitted to enter the fortress, for safety reasons. There seemed to be a fair amount of renovation going on. (Photo courtesy of commons.wikimedia.org)
After tooling around in the woods between east Metz’s business center and the apartments just north of Bellecroix, I got as close to the hilltop fortress, as current conditions allowed. The stairs to the hilltop were broken, and a length of yellow “Interdit” tape stretched across the base. So, here are some views of the wall’s base. (Photo courtesy of commons.wikimedia.com)
(Photo courtesy of stewdgm.wordpress.com)
(Photo courtesy of tout-metz.com)
This narrow portal connects the old road to Bellecroix with the housing schemes to the north and east. It is the south gate of Double Couronne, the twin crowns, or fortresses of Moselle and Bellecroix. (Photo courtesy of structurae.net)
My visit to Metz was coming to an end, but, as you can see, it was a full one. I will leave off with two final photos: Place Saint-Louis, where the young and restless unwind, after a day or work or study, and a shot of one of the apartment megaplexes, where the poor and struggling look out towards Bellecroix, and wonder who would defend them, in time of danger. It is in pondering these scenes, and being confronted briefly by some children who were wondering why I was in their neighbourhood, while en route to Bellecroix (“Monsieur, the other whites are not nice to us here. We must be wary.”), that gave me pause to consider the depth of the camaraderie I saw in places like Paris and Rennes. (Photo below courtesy of commons.wikimedia.com)
(Photo courtesy of bellx-57070.skyrock.com)
I fully intend to return to Metz, and Strasbourg, take more photos and listen further to the voices of the dispossessed. It is, after all, what Aimee Cesaire would want a world citizen to do. Besides, American soldiers did stand for the people of Metz, in 1944. They were the Iron Men of Metz, from the 95th Infantry Division. (Photo courtesy of en.tracesofwar.com)
He graciously took me over to the home of another Baha’i family, for a devotional gathering, followed by a delicious brunch. I was very much touched by the melodious voices of the Baha’i youth, who joyfully sang their prayers and devotional tunes. We all joined in chanting “Allah’u’abha” (“God is the All-Glorious”),and several adults said prayers in French, Portuguese, Persian and Magyar. Yes, I said a prayer in English, for the success of an upcoming gathering at the Baha’i House of Worship, in Frankfurt, which I would visit later in the week. Here is the group, my finest Luxembourgian friends.
The chef, sixth from left, prepared an exquisite meal for us
So, my friends in Nashville, John and Mary, that is the REAL reason I went to Luxembourg 🙂
After the brunch, Madame showed me her prolific garden. I gladly accepted a bag full of sour cherries, from this tree.
The back yards are long and narrow, but every centimeter is put to good use.
With this lovely send-off, I was driven back to Hotel Vauban, and made my way to the train station.I was soon en-route to Metz, capital of Lorraine. It did not take more than an hour to get there. The train station in Metz is majestic. ( If you sense a difference in the quality of the photo, it’s unfortunately very simple. My photos from Metz to my departure from Frankfurt were lost in a mishap with the computer. I will be accrediting the photos that are not watermarked, as I am borrowing them from Google.)
(Above, courtesy of @ arielbravy.com.)
(Below,courtesy of ResidHome, LLC.)
I walked at a brisk pace down the road a bit, to ResidHome-Metz, a large, modern hotel, which seems to cater to single male workers. The desk staff is courteous, but firm with the rules. The young women who are chambermaids are attentive to their tasks, but want no contact with the male guests. This could very well be the fruit of some rather nefarious acts, in times past. All I wanted there was exactly what I received: Professional courtesy.
I had lots of daylight left, so the destination was first Avenue Foch, named for the great French commander of World War I, then to the banks of the Moselle and its canals. Here are some of the row houses, which accommodate immigrant workers, along Avenue Foch. (Photo courtesy of forum.skyscraperpage.com)
Metz Cathedral, by day and night, is a spectacle worthy of an hour or more. I had the former, and again was most impressed. (Photo courtesy of panoramio.com.)
(Above photo, courtesy of hdrcreme.com.) (Below, courtesy of en.wikipedia.com)
Let’s go down to the Citadelle, and along the banks of the Moselle and its network of barge canals. It seemed much of Metz was there, on that bright, beautiful Sunday afternoon and evening. I enjoyed a kebab sandwich, ice cream cone and mineral water, amusing the college-student servers with my earnest, but halting French. The furtive young couples in the Citadelle did appreciate my quick exiting their little nooks. (Photo courtesy of fodors.com)
Fathers and sons were fishing. Teen boys were pestering teen girls. A toddler was in awe of the swans and ducks, which were prolific along the Moselle. Bicyclists were also prolific and moving with a purpose that reminded me of Ghent and its jam-packed sidewalks. The bridges were certainly jam-packed in Metz.
(Photo below, courtesy of flickr.com)
(Photo below, courtesy of indigoguide.com)
I made a mental note to explore the university quarter and old city more thoroughly, as well as going up to Bellecroix, on Monday. It would be one of my longest and most intense days of this journey. Today, though, had been a pleasant day among many carefree Lorraignais.
June 21, 2014, Luxembourg- It was the Solstice! How to ring in the Summer? For me, there was no better way than to walk down to the Alzette River, passing the three segments of the old fortress district of Luxembourg-Ville along the way. The path to these magnificent sites passes along Rue Marche des Herbes.
The walker passes Luxembourg’s Palais de Justice.
Around the corner is L’Eglise Saint-Michel, honouring the Archangel.
Then comes Rocher de Bock. This is the oldest area of Luxmbourg-Ville, having been built by Count Sigefroy, on the site of an old Roman castellum, in 963 AD.
This is a view of a casement, under the Bock.
From the Bock, a viaduct, built first by the Romans, then restored by the Spanish, still shows usefulness.
The “new Luxembourg” of the Europe Center is visible in the distance.
Ville-Basse, the lower city, has its vibrance and trendiness, much as do the city centre and Quartier Gare, both in Ville- Haute.
Maybe Not Bob’s is an eatery that has been open for 21 years. The name comes from a compromise between the two owners. One wanted to call it Maybe’s and the other, Bob’s. So they disagreed in the middle, but continued to serve good food, or so I’m told. I saved my appetite for New Color’s, later that evening.
On I went, past the confluence of the tiny Pertrusse with the moderately-flowing Alzette, towards Wenceslas Wall.
The Alzette offers a short, but tranquil, walk in shady woods.
Then, the woods clear, and the Spanish Turrets (Tres Tours) of Wenceslas Wall let us know why this city was called Gibraltar of the North.
Wenceslas was an early Duke of Luxembourg, allied with the Spanish, during the days when Spain was ruled by the Hapsburgs. His wall was intended to keep out the French. This worked until the War of the Reunions, which I mentioned in the previous post. Vauban, who led the French to victory, left his own fortress.
There is a third fortress, Thungen, in the Kirschberg District, but I did not get over that way, this time.
Instead, I circled around and took in Ville-Basse’s small but scintillating garden.
After this brief respite, it was back up to Ville-Haute, past the area where the Wenceslas and Vauban strongholds blend.
New Color’s is a brasserie, built by some of the employees of Color’s, a now defunct eatery, which ruled the Luxembourg dining scene for several years, or again, so I’m told. All I know is that this new establishment provided a delectable five-course meal, and has one of the most energetic staffs I’ve seen anywhere. I was the first dinner guest, and by the time I left, there was zero room on the patio. Hugo became a friend, and I gave my payment standing up, so that he and his wife would not lose four guests, for whom mine was the closest table to being available.
Then, the show was about to start. Luxembourg Philharmonic presented an evening of Disney and movie themes.
The Orchestra ended its performance at 10 PM. In Place d’Armes, however, Dany Kohll and Maxim were just getting started.
Graceful Mme. Kohll and her troupe, which includes her husband, Felix Schaber, a horn virtuoso, kept everyone gleeful, with a mix of pop, show, blues and rock anthems. We all got to join in for “Silly Sally” and Phil Collins’ “Take Me Home”, with which Dany sent everyone home, right at Midnight.
This was the most eclectic day of my journey, certainly, and what an honour to have been able to take part in the little nation’s big weekend. By the way, the Duke whose birthday is the basis for this celebration was the first Grand Duke of an independent Luxembourg: Adolphe I.
NEXT: Morning in Luxembourg, Evening in Metz.
( I must let everyone know, all the photos taken during the last week of my time in Europe were lost yesterday, in a computer mishap. I am looking into long-shot possibilities for restoring the SIM card, or extracting the photos, but Best Buy says its impossible. The remaining posts, therefore, will have accredited photos by other sources.)
June 20, 2014, Luxembourg- I arrived at Luxembourg-Ville’s Central Train Station around 4:30, on this overcast, but cool, Friday afternoon. It being rush hour, the streets were filled with people in suits needing to be somewhere, yesterday, tourists looking for hotels, street people looking for coins and observers of human nature, like me, taking it all in. This is one of Europe’s most densely-populated countries, and one of its most expensive- sort of a land-locked, French-speaking Rhode Island. It quickly became one of my favourites. I happened upon Luxembourg as it revved up for the Grand Duke’s Birthday, the country’s National Day.
After some twenty minutes of navigating, on Luxembourg-Ville’s excellent bus system and on foot through the city centre, I found Place Guillaume II, and my hotel, Le Vauban, named for the great military commander of Seventeenth Century France, Sebastien de Vauban. He broke the siege of Luxembourg, in 1684, making the Grand Duchy a nominal satellite of France, until 1697, when it passed again to the influence of the Holy Roman Empire (the conglomerate of duchies and small kingdoms which occupied what is now Germany). The back story of all this is that France and Spain were fighting in what is called the War of the Reunions, mainly over which royal family, the Bourbons or the Hapsburgs, would control the Rhine, the Danube and their tributaries. These included the Moselle and the Alzette, which flow through Luxembourg. The fortress city overlooked the Alzette, making its strategic value quite high.
Anyway, here is Hotel Le Vauban. Many people in the hospitality field in Luxembourg come from elsewhere, and many commute from Arlon, and other nearby towns in Belgium. “Florine”, our maid, came from Guinea. Our desk clerk, “Marco”, is from Portugal.
Place Guillaume II is named for Grand Duke Guillaume II, who ruled during the mid- 19th Century. Prior to then, it was a Franciscan monastery, until the French Jacobins chased the monks out, in 1797. Thus, the place, in Letzebergsch, is called Platz Kneudler, or Place of Knots, after the knots tied in the sashes worn by Franciscan monks. Letzebergsch is a dialect of Middle German, spoken only in Luxembourg, and is the country’s second language, after French.
Guillaume II overlooks his square, which is the centerpiece of many national celebrations. Luxembourg Philharmonic Orchestra would perform here on Saturday night, as you will see.
I spent a couple of hours walking around the government district, just east of the Place. Here is the Chamber of Deputies, where Luxembourg’s Parliament meets.
The government buildings, and nearby Luxembourg Cathedral, are tightly packed, and thus easy to defend.
Here is the front of Notre Dame de Luxembourg.
As the armed guard indicates, this is the Ducal Palace.
This performance artist portrayed Jeanne d’Arc. She was less than amused by those who took her for a statue. It must have been a long day, under the greasepaint.
I was very much taken by the city’s affection with cones.
L’Eglise Saint-Michel honours the Archangel.
All is not stone and plaster, however. Luxembourg has three grand parks: Ed Klein, Pertrusse and Kirchberg. Below is a smaller park, between Place Guillaume II and Hamilius Bus Station.
At Place d’Armes, preparations were being made for the weekend’s festivities. This totem pole is an indication of the country’s, and the region’s, fascination with indigenous cultures of other nations.
As with any great event, balloons were here in abundance, as well.
As the daylight faded, around 9:30 PM, I headed to Place de la Gare, to see what was happening in the business district.
There was a carnival in full swing. When was the last time you saw an old-fashioned carnival, in the middle of a national capital? This was just awesome, seeing families and delighted children having clean fun together. I thoroughly relished the Red Hot sandwich and limeade, from a Portuguese sausage vendor.
With this as a greeting, I headed back to the hotel, knowing that breakfast on the patio would soon signal another lovely day. Great things lie hidden in small packages, and in mini-states.
