Chapter 25: Weaving along the German Weinstrasse

When Lawna asked me where I was going to take her for our Saturday excursion, I thought that it might be good to go for a ride in the country rather than fight city traffic. I mistakenly thought that driving in the country would be less stressful. I browsed through some tourist stuff I'd picked up in different places and looked for ideas on Google Maps. I had read an appealing article about driving through the Palatinate wine route, or Weinstrasse, and it looked doable for a day and pretty stress free.

Now I've begun to think that there is no such thing as stress free driving in Germany. The autobahn is a pretty wild place to drive, as are the crowded, narrow streets of most European cities. Add to that list idyllic country roads.

Patron saint of grapes?

To follow the ancient wine road, we first had to get there, which is by winding roads through the deep Palatine forest. These roads are quite beautiful and often breathtaking, and also treacherous, at least to a south Texas boy who is used to straight, wide highways between home and Dallas or El Paso. Nothing is straight in Germany because there are so many hills (I'm not even talking about mountains here). Forest roads are narrow. They are two way, but often are marked with no dividing lines, and they look like they can only accommodate cars in one direction. In fact, two vehicles can get past, but it is a snug fit. When you are traveling along ledges and hairpin turns, these exchanges call for utmost concentration. Additionally, Germans who are used to these roads, drive on them pretty fast and become impatient when you slow them down. These roads are also popular with weekend motorcyclists, who drive even faster, leaning at low angles into their turns, and don't hesitate to pass you on a blind curve, and bicyclists who appear suddenly, pumping slowly, as you round a curve. I'm hate to even blink on these roads. We took no pictures in the forest--both of us were pretty focused on my driving. Sorry about the loss. The forest is quite beautiful.

Wine tasting center

                                      

Finally, we crossed the Hansel and Gretel woods and emerged into wine country. The wine areas of Europe tend to be unusually dry parts of an otherwise damp continent. On this day, it looked like it could rain any moment with dark clouds scudding across a pale, blue sky. After days of unseasonably hot weather, there was finally a brisk, cool breeze. I thought that maybe the driving would become more relaxing. It is, between the picturesque towns, but the villages themselves are crazy networks of narrow cobble stoned streets with terrible visibility and plenty of walking and biking tourists to watch out for. The best thing to do is find a vacant spot to park along a medieval alley, get out of the car and do some wine tasting. That's what we did.

At our first stop (and I'm sorry that I don't remember the names of the towns--we sort of lost track and just followed the Weinstrasse) we ate a salad garnished with German sausages and, of course, drank some local Riesling. After a leisurely meal, we hopped back in the car and traveled to the next lovely town, found a wine tasting station populated by many other pilgrims of the grape, sitting at tables outside and speaking a number of different languages, drank some more Riesling (a good summer wine) and purchased a few bottles to go. By this time, the grape was going to my head. Driving the narrow village streets was still treacherous, yet somehow I felt more relaxed. Still, after bumping along cobblestones on steep, medieval streets, I decided that we needed to find a good cafe to get some coffee to offset my bacchian reverie. We found a lovely town with an eis cafe open, which specializes in ice cream treats. I mainly wanted coffee, which they did have, but Lawna and I also shared a banana split, probably the first one I've had since college. Yes, friends, I have gained some of my weight back. It's a never ending battle.

Eis cafe

Restaurant service is slow in Europe; you are supposed to relax and enjoy a meal or snack. After an hour and a half, only part of which was spent eating and the rest spent talking and watching two toddlers paint their faces with chocolate and play outside, pretending to feed a statue an ice cream cone, I finally asked for the check, paid, and we set out to walk it all off in the picturesque village. It was late enough in the afternoon so that most businesses were closing, and we found a pharmacy named Luckenbach, like in Texas. We also found an old country church open and walked around inside and took pictures. Eventually, we wandered back to the car and headed back home, yes, along the same narrow forest roads. More white knuckle stuff!

Days are long here in the summer, and it was still light when we made it back to the Kaiserslautern area. Instead of going home, we drove to the base theater and took in a movie. It was a full, fun day.

We didn't see much of the wine road. It extends from Germany's southern border with France all the way to the Netherlands. When you are sampling wine along the way at restaurants that serve you at a leisurely pace,  it's hard to rush through the area. Nor is it advisable. There are also castles along the way, none of which we saw. We would probably need at least a week to get a decent sense of the region and its offerings. People have been making wine here since Roman times, and there is plenty of interesting history to be learned. We scratched just the shallowest skin of the surface. As I keep saying, we have three years.

Chapter 24: Cathedral of light--Saint Etienne and Metz

There is plenty to see in Germany, but we seemed drawn to France these days. It's so close by! I'm fascinated by French architecture and culture, and it just feels more like an escape when we venture beyond the German border for our weekend trips. Metz, our point of visitation this last weekend, is only an hour and a half drive from our apartment, and Lorraine has at times in history been part of Germany, so it's not much of a geographical leap; however, the people do speak French, and the food is different, so it is a switch.

Metz (pronounced "Mess" by the French) is a charming city in Lorraine that positively glows from the yellowish Jaumont rock quarried nearby that was used to build much of the old town. It was at various times the home of Rabelais, Paul Verlaine and Robert Schumann (not the composer, but the European statesman). 

Rabelais' house

Paul Verlaine's house

The city is most famous for its incredible Saint Etienne Cathedral, started in the 13th century and improved upon until our own time. Cleaning is currently underway. Saint Etienne has the greatest expanse of stained glass windows of any cathedral in the world, and the lighting effect is quite stunning. The front expanse which includes a vast rose window is part of the original 13th century design, and then as one ventures further toward the altar, the glass artists reflect later periods, including twentieth century artists Francois Villon (not the celebrated medieval poet) and Marc Chagall. 

St Etienne Cathedral undergoing cleaning

Cathedral of light

Great rose window

Windows of Francois Villon

Window of Marc Chagall

As with the Strasbourg cathedral, Etienne has weathered the ravages of violent history, and Lorraine is no stranger to violence, having been warred over for centuries between France and Germany. Probably the worst damage, however, occurred during the French Revolution when zealot anti clerics defaced much of the church and had plans to destroy all of the windows. Fortunately, the job proved to be too expensive, so it was abandoned, and the next republic proved saner. The Jaumont stone throughout the city, including the great church, gives all of the winding streets and wide boulevards and squares a luminescence, which is only amplified exponentially in the brilliant, sun lit cathedral. Paris is called the City of Light, but certainly Metz deserves a similar appellation. Paris's lights are electric, as in so many modern cities, but Metz's are within the walls themselves, and the cathedral is a sublime window of the soul.

Museum

Tourist center

Jaumont facades

The magnificent Metz train station

Also glowing from the Jaumont bricks are the old bishop's palace, which has long served as the town's market. It is filled with fresh meat, fish, vegetables, herbs, fruit, sausages, breads and a large section of eating areas, filled with the aroma of various cooked meats. It's a riot for the senses. Further down the street is the Musee (museum) which houses a large collection of eastern French Roman artifacts, as well as important collections of more recent art from the region. Still further is a vast square across the Moselle river which is dominated by the oldest opera house in France, also of luminous Jaumont brick.

Yes, Metz has a river walk along the lazy Moselle

Shopping under the dragon, the symbol of Metz. Tradition has it that St Clement drove the dragons from Metz.

Metz is typical of many French cities, with its charming old town, filled with pedestrians and bicyclists navigating the narrow and sometimes insanely steep cobble stone streets, and the relaxed restaurants and cafes; but it is unique in its literally glowing construction and hybrid culture that, despite being clearly French, also owes plenty to German influence. Germans love to visit this town, and visitors will hear a consistent mix of both languages in the shops and patisseries. The cathedral, of course, is essential to visit when traveling through this region. There are plenty of spectacular churches in eastern France, most notably in Strasbourg and Reims, but none so luminous as Metz. Each of these great sacred spaces has it's own miraculous appeal and beauty, but the sunlit Saint Etienne is a miracle you will see nowhere else.

St Etienne's, looking up.

A smaller, but still impressive 13th century church, St Martin's, that we visited.

Chapter 23: Finally to Luxembourg

Last weekend we made up for our previous aborted attempt to visit Luxembourg. We finally made it! It was, admittedly, a brief trip. We left Spesbach later than we had planned (it's hard to get up early on a Saturday!), but finally took off down the road at around 10:00. We wanted to check out a small resort village in Luxembourg (the country) first. Vianden is a place of relaxation for affluent Europeans, and there are many of them in Luxembourg. The village is tucked in the hills, approached by attractive, winding country roads that, at least on that weekend, were roaring with expensive motorcycles. The village is full of rustic cafes, and most of the parking areas were full of gleaming, motorcycles. People crowded the outside tables dressed in black leather jackets. Those who weren't motorcycling, it seemed, were bicycling in bright, designer biking wear. It's a popular getaway with a long history. Victor Hugo loved the area so much that he bought a house right on the river. There is a Victor Hugo museum attached to the tourist office and a restaurant in the same building. Without at first realizing that we were on hallowed literary ground, we ate there.

Pizza and beer with the spirit of Victor Hugo

pictures of Victor Hugo's home in Vianden

Vianden, Luxembourg

I had brought 100 euro, which usually suffices for these weekend jaunts, but this restaurant took out a bite in no time. We looked at the menu, and we were about to leave; yet, we knew we had seen a pizza sign outside for 18 euro. Lawna asked the waiter, and she said "Ah, yes. Let me get the downstairs menu!" Hmm. I guess we Americans were slumming it for eating upstairs. We weren't the only ones. There was also a young French family nearby munching out on pizza. Local cuisine is fine, and I like to be adventurous, but not when it wipes out our weekend trip money. Pizza it was! And it was very good, chased down by a local Lux pilsner.

Vianden clings to a hill, weaving up steep cobble stone streets, punctuated with upscale shops and fine resorts and hotels. After we finished our meal, packing half of the pizza for later, we drove up the insanely steep main street through town to the edge of an overlook from which you can view the castle that crowns the whole area. Since we wanted to get to Luxembourg, and had already used up about half of our day, we did not attempt to visit the castle or ride the popular sky lift that takes visitors there. Maybe some other time. This excursion was a bit of a rush job.

Vianden

Vianden Castle

After taking some pictures, we headed due south to Luxembourg. It's a short drive--Luxembourg, after all, is a small country. It's also a beautiful and clean country. It's not mountainous, but it is hilly, with many winding roads and lovely villages. The city is also striking, built upon a high promontory. In fact, it is sometimes called the Gibraltar of northern Europe. In times past, this geography kept it almost invulnerable to attack and maintained centuries of peace. Like Switzerland, Luxembourg has also kept peace by managing other people's money. It is one of the major banking centers in Europe, and, yes, has been embroiled in recent global money laundering scandals. Luxembourg is also a major governing center of the EU, though Brussels is the main one. Luxembourg maintains influence by managing the union's purse strings. Thirty two miles wide and fifty one miles long, Luxembourg is one of the wealthiest countries in the world, and the city of Luxembourg is the money machine. Luxembourg has it's own language, which hardly anyone outside the country speaks, so most citizens also speak French and German, and many speak English. Luxembourg waiters can morph between these four languages effortlessly and fluently.

We arrived at the city in the late afternoon, so we parked the car in a dark, underground public garage, visited the nearby Notre Dame Cathedral, took some pictures of the city's panorama from a viewing spot on the edge of the city's precipice and then hopped on a tour bus for the quickie tour, which is guided through headphones that can dial into several different languages. Luxembourg is a rich blend of historic and modern architecture. The old city is separated into two parts by high bridges that link the two original promontories. There are also streets that wind down the cliff sides, and I developed a good bit of respect for the driver that navigated our spacious double-decker bus down the mountainside. Obviously, this modern city has outgrown it's original fortress-on-a-rock geography, and boulevards of glass banking buildings spread out beyond the old town.

Notre Dame Cathedral, Luxembourg

Notre Dame

When we completed our tour, we found a cafe downtown and ate quiche Lorraine and drank a local amber beer. A bride-to-be was walking with her best girl friends downtown, all of them decked out in frizzy pink wigs and having fun. It is a ritual that we saw in Strasbourg the week before--sort of a bachelorette party in goofy costumes. A small brass band played for a while in the town square, and then an accordianist. A good time. After an enjoyable, slow-paced meal, we strolled back to our car and started back home. In northern Europe, early summer daylight lasts until around 10:00 p.m., so we arrived home before night fell.

City on a rock, Luxembourg

high bridge

quickie tour