Chapter 22: Strasbourg, the Crown of Alsace

As Memorial Day weekend approached, which conveniently coincided with our 32nd wedding anniversary, I wanted to plan something special for Lawna and me. My first thought was to set up a weekend trip to Paris, and I spoke with a travel agent on base to see how much it would cost to book a room downtown and travel by train. It was all more expensive than I had anticipated, and he warned me that a lot of people would be visiting Paris on Memorial Day weekend. Additionally, I had seen reports on Euronews about mass demonstations and even a public suicide in Notre Dame Cathedral over the new legislation to legalize gay marriage in France. Not what I had in mind for an anniversary weekend. We will be in Germany for three years. We still have plenty of time to visit Paris.

So, I looked closer to home and checked out some good gothic cathedral towns on Kayak. The closest, and, it looked to me, the most interesting overall was Strasbourg, the great center of Alsatian culture. Until the twentieth century, Strasbourg Cathedral was the tallest church in the world. I would also like to see Chartres, Rouen and Notre Dame de Paris, but Strasbourg would be a perfectly respectable and imminently doable starting point. It's only two hours away from Spesbach by car. I keep wanting to travel by train, but every time I look at the ticket prices, I think, let's just drive. Fuel prices are high, too, but not as high as train tickets, especially with on-base fuel discounts.

I booked a room at L'hotel Maison Rouge, right in the downtown area. On Saturday morning, we set off down the road for Strasbourg.

And what a beautiful ride it was. The country roads wind through farms and forest areas, some of which are continuations of the tip of Germany's Black Forest region. The day was sunny, and everything was green from the rains we have had. We stopped at a local bakery in a small lumbering town, hoping for a bathroom, but France is short on public restrooms. Most businesses don't appear to have them. In cities, the municiple government provides them at the street level. No bathroom, but a warm, freshly baked loaf of dark (noir) bread and some flaky croissants launched us back on the road. Closer to Strasbourg, we finally found a rare French rest stop with a convenience store and RESTROOMS! It's tough to grow old!

Strasbourg is a smaller city than Paris, and, I'm sure, more manageable for a weekend. Most of the center is historic, a pleasant collection of buildings from all periods of French history, radiating out in narrow walkways, town squares and parks and streetcar tracks from the crown of Strasbourg, Notre Dame Cathedral.

Driving in such a downtown is a fright for an American. In the US, a driver mostly needs to be concerned with other cars. In European cities, one must look out for crowds of pedestrians who consider the streets theirs, bicyclists, boisterous streetcars and narrow, serpentine one way streets that sometimes look more like sidewalks than anything for a car. Much of downtown is paved with cobblestones or brick, and signs direct cars into areas where most Americans instinctively think they don't belong. It is a cultural perspective shift. Cars can legally go almost anywhere pedestrians can go, even on curbs, but don't dare hit anyone.  Added to that, American cars (even our Honda Civic) are big in Europe. I don't mean popular--just big in size. Even a Civic is tricky to maneuver into downtown parking spaces. A Smart car is just about right.

I was ecstatic to finally have our car parked in the underground Kleber municipal parking lot for the weekend, and then we pulled our wheeled suitcases up a ridiculously narrow spiral staircase (there is also a coffin-like elevator)  from under the streetcar line, and then along the cobblestones of Rue de Francs Bourgeois about a block to our hotel. The street was alive with pedestrians and bicyclists, and a busy street car platform. Ah, Strasbourg!

We had arrived well before check-in time, but the maitre di allowed us to store our two suitcases in a luggage room. Then we set out to find a good cafe.

Finding a good cafe is absolutely no problem in Strasbourg. They are on every corner. Every place we ate, including breakfast at the hotel, was excellent. Not cheap, mind you. But excellent. About the only way to eat cheaply in downtown Strasbourg is to either bring your own food or rely on Turkish Kebop and Pizza shops. They stay open on days when other Europeans take the day off, and they undercut most everyone else on price. But, who wants to eat just kebop and doners on a French vacation? Crepes, duck, outrageous desserts. . .that's what I'm talking about! And plenty of red wine and Kronenburg amber or pilsner (that's the local Alsatian brew) and, of course, espresso.

On Saturday, a sunny, mild day, we walked all over the downtown area and visited the great cathedral. On Sunday, it rained pretty much all day, so we made that our museum day. Most of the important museums in Strasbourg are adjacent to the cathedral. A medieval art museum is housed in the old church tax assessor's and stonemason's building which dates back to the 11th century. The collection is astonishing and gave me a new appreciation of medieval art expressiveness. Today's cathedral is built on top of two other places of worship, beginning with an old Roman temple, then progressing to the original 11th century church, which eventually burned to the ground, to be restored by a Romanesque church, part of which still stands, but is mostly built over in the grand Gothic style. The museum houses archaeological pieces from the old churches, as well as items that for one reason or another were removed from the cathedral (Revolution, War, Reformation zeal, etc.) Some of them have had remarkable lives, passing from one hand of history to another, and finally returning full circle to Strasbourg, which was also damaged significantly by bombing during World War II.

The other museums of interest, a fine arts collection and an archaeological museum, are both housed in the adjacent Palais Rohan, a grand seventeenth century palace originally built for the cardinal of Alsace. Later, it also housed at various times Marie Antoinette and Napoleon. Much of the interior has been restored after damage incurred by allied bombings. To see the opulence of the place, one begins to appreciate why the French started a revolution. The eighteenth century one percent! The original occupy movement, though unfortunately much more brutal! 

The history around Alsace is extraordinary, dating to prehistoric times. Some of the earliest fossils in Europe were found in this area, and these were the people that Caesar wrote about in the Gallic Wars. There has been rich and detailed archeological activity occurring here for a long time, and these museums are a culmination of that. Fascinating stuff. Strasbourg is beautiful, friendly and educational at the same time. And the pastries are to die for!

There's much that we did not see. The modernist Parliament of Europe is located in Strasbourg, and reportedly the city boasts one of Europe's most awesome train stations. We still have three years. Next time maybe we'll hop a train.

Chapter 21: Circling Off Course to Thionville

Last week was mostly wet, cold and miserable. If only we could share some of this incessant rain with our South Texas family and friends! Then, as if by design, the sun came out on Saturday and provided a beautiful start for the weekend, which, regrettably, would return to rain on Sunday.

On Friday, I started feeling sick with heavy congestion, headache and tightness of breath. At first, I really did not want to go anywhere; however, when it rains as much as it does here, I hate to waste a beautiful day, particularly on a weekend. So, Lawna and I drove to the base, gassed up the Honda with tax free fuel, bought some snacks and cough drops and set off up the autobahn for Luxembourg. Unfortunately, we never quite made our destination. We learned, instead, of the limitations of using GPS.

Since arriving in Germany, I have grown quite dependent on our Garmin GPS unit. I just program in the destination address and an assured female voice (I swear it's Judi Dench's) directs me turn-by-turn to the right place. We affectionately refer to the voice as "Kate," which is the name listed in the "tools" menu. We tell her "thank you" when she gets us out of a jam and scold her when she barks out a direction too late for me to follow appropriately. With our sons not here, Kate has become the third leg of our traveling family, the loss of which would make us collapse. She keeps us company on our trips and gets us safely to our destinations--usually.

The problem with relying solely on GPS is that you can't really tell where you are going like you can with a map. You follow vocal instructions but have no broader visual context. Also, like any map, GPS units can get out of date, although constant online updates minimize that problem. In well mapped areas, they really are pretty remarkable devices. Anyway, I think that from now on we will also carry traditional maps.

Our journey was proceeding swimmingly until we reached a roundabout (traffic circle) where Kate directed me one way, but a sign said that Luxembourg was another direction. I followed the sign. That set Kate on a course correction frenzy that had us driving in long circles through multiple roundabouts right along the French/Luxembourg border. We did pass into Luxembourg (the country) briefly, but soon found ourselves in France again. Imagine Judi Dench barking stern directions at you in a foreign country (Pay attention, James!). Eventually, we settled into a pretty straight northward route through the Mosel wine country, past lovely chateaux and lean Saturday bicyclists in their bright, form-fitting gear and helmets. We were pretty sure that we were getting near Luxembourg; we were obviously on the outskirts of a city. We were hungry, and, more importantly, both of us had to find a bathroom. We couldn't wait for Luxembourg; I pulled up to an Italian delicatessen.

Italian delicatessen

The owner, we later found out, was from Sicily, and he greeted us warmly--we were the only customers in his shop. I tried to talk to him with my very limited French. He spoke no German or English. In the heat of the moment, I simply could not recall the French word for bathroom. I said "WC". . .no comprehension. Then I imitated washing hands, and he understood. Lawna went in first. While she was busy, I said "Mange," and his blue eyes lit up.

"Mange?" he nodded excitedly.

"Oui, mange, sil vous plais."

"O.K." he made the A-OK sign with his hand, led me over to some tables in the back of his shop and motioned for me to sit. I sat until Lawna returned from  the bathroom, assured her that he was about to feed us, and hurried to the WC. Our host, draped the table with a paper tablecloth, set out two wine glasses and asked "Rose or rouge?" meaning, I assumed, a drier red. We went with rose, a medium sweet variety, and he ceremoniously uncorked the bottle and motioned for us to enjoy. What followed was a full three course meal, starting with a deli meat tray, soaked in oils, followed by delicious lasgna and gnocci and finished off with a flaky creme pastry and stout Italian coffee. Initially I wondered what all of this was going to cost, but decided to flow with it and just enjoy. I had taken a pretty good wad of euros. It turns out that I spent half of them there.

His shop was nothing fancy, just a meat shop with bare walls and card tables for occasional in-shop dining, but his service was definitely five star. In fact, as we finished our delicious meal, he brought his cell phone to me and urged me to talk to his sister who was living in Florida. He wanted us to speak to a relative who understood English so that he could know more about us. I chatted with his sister, whose English was quite good, having lived in America for thirteen years. We talked about why we were in Germany and France, compared Texas and Florida climates, and generally learned about each other from out of the blue in this French community that we had never even planned to visit. Talk about random! For 50 euro, we enjoyed a wonderful, leisurely meal, excellent service and company and a long distance call to Florida! These are the finest moments in traveling!

Before we left, our host pumped my hand happily and thanked us for our visit, provided the bill which I happily paid, adding another bottle of his excellent rose to the sum total. From there we headed toward what we thought would be Luxembourg. The streets became busier and we traveled over a bridge, which spanned a river that I did not catch the name of (it was the Mosel), then found ourselves in a busy old-town section of a city with plenty of traffic circles buzzing around city monuments. We landed at our GPS destination, the Hall of Justice on Luxembourg Avenue. There was parking across the street along the river, so we left the Honda there and started walking through old town.

We walked around for a few hours along the historic facades which are mostly shops now. One rather inconspicuous entryway led into a full multi-storey shopping mall that seemed to materialize out of nowhere. By the time we exited its sleek, air-conditioned modernity, we were suddenly in the eighteenth century again. We drank some more coffee at a patisserie, but we were still too full for a pastry. Lawna bought some shoes.

Downtown wherever-it-was (Thionville)

European style cinema

What began to bother me, though, was that I was not seeing Luxembourg mentioned anywhere. I kept seeing the name Thionville. We walked into a French book shop, and I leafed through a section of local history about the Lorraine region and Thionville. The shop featured some interesting volumes about Thionville during the two world wars and Nazi occupation. Was it possible that we were not in Luxembourg yet, or was Thionville another name for the city?

Nevertheless, we had a great time wandering around wherever-it-was-we-were. We eventually wended our way back to the Honda, paid a few euro for the parking and took off. I told Lawna, "I don't think that was Luxembourg."

She asked me if I wanted to keep driving to get there. Since I was under the weather, I suggested that we just head on back. Luxembourg is only about an hour and a half from the Kaiserslautern area where we live, so we will have plenty of opportunity during our three years to visit it. Let's just head home! She agreed.

On the way back, though, we stopped at a picturesque village along the Mosel, Sierck-les-Bains, which is built around a medieval, fortified chateau, once the home of various dukes of Lorraine. We stopped off to look around, made a visit to the tourist center and then decided to tour the 11th century chateau. The castle would require some steep climbing, and I was feeling a bit short of breath from being sick; but I hate to waste a pretty day in rainy Europe, so I just took it more slowly than usual. We walked up the steep cobblestone street to the fortress and climbed the narrow stairs to inspect the parapets and towers. We saw the armory and even the torture chamber and tools of the trade. The top, of course, afforded a magnificent view of the Mosel meandering through the lush, green wine country. Despite my slight wheeziness, my previous bicycling had served me well, and we had a fun walking tour of the grounds. A group of three French students took our picture, and we took theirs.

Taken by some French students we met

Mosel from parapets of Sierck-les-Bains

11th century S&M

11th century boulevard

After that side trip, we took off down the road to return to Spesbach. Upon arriving, I checked on our travels on Google maps and, sure enough, we never did make it to Luxembourg. We passed through the country fleetingly until another roundabout had directed us back into France. We had browsed the shops and patisseries of Thionville, not Luxembourg, but had parked on Luxembourg Avenue. Thionville is a small city, (Luxembourg did seem smaller than I had envisioned it!) and is known for being a settlement area for concentration camp prisoners who were freed after the second world war. Many of the victims of the death camps were sent to Thionville for processing and to reunite them with their families and to try to return them to their homes, if their families and homes still existed. We probably never would have visited Thionville if we had not gotten lost. Thank you Kate! Next time, however, I will be more careful how I program our destination and make sure that Lawna has an old-school analog map on her lap while I drive.

Chapter 20:: Shared Borders

Lawna had a particularly rough week at work this last week, so I wanted to do something special for her for Mother's Day. Sunday is our usual day of connecting with family back home with telephone calls. Also, most places in Germany are closed on Sunday, so Saturday seemed the best day to celebrate. I decided to take her to France for lunch! France is only an hour away from where we live, and we still hadn't ventured across the border. Paris would probably require at least a three day weekend, and I would rather take the train than drive there, so I got on Google maps and looked for a quiet, romantic town nearby. The result was Saverne, an ancient town in Alsace that still features many old half-timbered houses, a castle and several old churches. The downtown area, as is the case in many European towns and cities, is full of old buildings that have been restored as restaurants and shops in a mostly pedestrian environment.

Saverne, like so many villages in this region, dates back to Roman times, and is known for a museum that houses a sizable collection of Roman and Celtic artifacts. Unfortunately, we did not have the time for that. We parked near the town center and just walked around, enjoyed the shops and peeked into a few old churches. The Alsace region has historically been a contested area between the Germans and French, the subject of frequent wars, and contains a unique mix of both cultures. In Saverne, one hears almost as much German spoken as French. It is, however, a distinctively French community. The buildings look more French and the women dress more stylishly. The food is, of course, French, and the bakeries (patisseries) sell different fare than their German counterparts. We also visited a chocolaterie, and sampled and ultimately purchased some divine delectables. Saverne brews its own pilsner, Lecorne, which is named after a unicorn horn that was supposedly discovered in the area long ago. Historians suspect that the supposed horn may have been the remains of a prehistoric animal, but the legend is still popular and lives on in a light, flavorable brew.

Spring has been a combination of rain and radiant, sunny days. We have been so soaked by almost daily light showers that everything is a mossy green, an emerald delight. The rain clouds produce artful lighting over the lushly green-carpeted countryside, punctuated with swaths of brilliant wildflowers. The air is positively drenched with the smell of flowers and sap, and the frequent rains keep the air clean and cool. I have lived in Hawaii, and yet I don't recall ever having seen and smelled anything so incredible. I feel guilty when I am indoors. Some Americans (and Germans) I know complain about the frequent rains (and, indeed, sometimes the days are gray and dreary), but the payoff is beautiful. Last Saturday, Lawna and I biked to the nearby town of Landstuhl  and ended up in the midst of their Maifest. Apparently, most years the festivals are dampened by rain; however, on that Saturday the weather was sunny and absolutely crystalline. We stopped for some coffee and pastry at a local bakery, and then walked around the fair to watch the children ride the carousel and amusement rides. There was plenty of sausage and beer and even an amethyst booth. Flowers, especially varieties of tulips,  bloomed everywhere in the town, and I sensed a palpable relief from the cold winter that had wound down just weeks before.

I find the differences between life here and in the States to be mostly positive. I don't much like driving in Germany, but most other aspects of village life are pleasing. We don't have television here, just movie rentals.  I don't really miss it. Germans in the village go out for walks every evening (daylight lasts until about 9:30 in the spring), often with their dogs. I wish our dogs in San Antonio could have lived in this town where you can just let them loose in the fields to run around. People walk their dogs every day, rain, shine or even snow. The dogs don't care, and it's good for the owners. People are always out walking. The countryside draws us out. I look out the window and think to myself, why am I in here? Walking, biking, gardening--it's a natural instinct when the countryside is so inviting. It's a great way of life.

Germans around here eat a lot of meat, and tend not to be too fond of vegetables. Most of them smoke, so that many look older than their ages, and many may drink a lot of alcohol, but they also walk and bike and work outdoors in their gardens, and I suppose it sort of balances out. Some Germans are definitely overweight, but I have not seen the morbid obesity that is so prevalent in San Antonio. Beer bellies--sure! But I don't see enormous girths taxiing around on scooters at grocery stores. Apart from some fatty dietary issues and filterless Galoisie cigarettes, the German lifestyle is pretty healthy. Most of the food is natural--the EU has resisted GMO foods. Even frozen pizzas list ingredients that an ordinary person would recognize. Europeans eat food that the human body has evolved to digest successfully. The bread is incredible, and quite fibrous. Streets are often steep to walk up, and many old buildings have stairs but no elevator. Daily living requires a modicum of fitness. Also, German workers retire earlier than do Americans and enjoy shorter work hours and more vacation time. It's not a sin to relax and have quality time. They also have medical care provided. Sure, some Germans are a little chunky and smell like stale cigarette smoke, but there are plenty of advantages to the German (and, really, European) way of life. When we finally leave here, there is plenty that I will miss.