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| B500 - starred stops |
I broke my golden travel rule - ie stay the night close to the next day's activities and paid dearly in time! Thinking that picking Willow up from the airport at 9:15 then driving to Baden-Baden would be a push, I booked a hotel in Stuttgart. With hindsight we should have gone to the Porshe museum, eaten out, picked up the Italian guest and arrived at a B&B in Baden-Baden late. Instead we got caught in queues from an accident long cleared the next morning on the autobahn and didn't get to Baden-Baden until 11:30! Half the day gone before the drive, that tour books recommend to allow 3-7 days for, has even begun.
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The comforters at the cafe hint that the bracing
air shouldn't stop you from enjoying people
watching with your coffee |
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| A water feature above the car park! |
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| Local rock streaked with green and white at the edge of Leopolds Platz |
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| The sunny day showed off Baden Baden's charms |
Baden-Baden is a beautiful Spa town at the beginning of the B500 drive. The information centre had a couple of excellent tour maps of the area and very helpful, English speaking guides. It is a posh little town that has served as a spa holiday destination for royalty - Queen Victoria and Tsar Alex I (Perhaps this explains why there is a Faberge Museum there). A famous spa bath that we didn't have time to enjoy is the Friedrichsbad (no swimsuit required!) which is also called the Irish Roman Thermal Spa and has been styled to 1800's splendor. A more modern one is the Caracalla Spa. It has outdoor pools and glass covered indoor ones as well. For a more active holiday there is a high ropes course in the nearby forest and we saw people paragliding off Merkur Mountain down into the valley after travelling up the cable railway to the top. The oldest tennis court in Germany is still operational here too. Perhaps not staying here was a good move for the budget! Maybe M and I, with a few ex Pathfinder buddies, will go back one day. Day hikes in the Black forest interspersed with spa days and evenings full of music and art - a happy retirement programme for a week or two.
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Putting up a mural. Image from JR's website
http://www.jr-art.net/jr |
The arts are celebrated in this little town too, Brahms, Liszt and Schumann busked on the banks of the River Oos and even Mark Twain visited to soothe his rheumatism. An artist that I like, Yuiry Shevchuk from the Czech Republic(mainly acrylics and pastels), must have stayed here a while because he has painted quite a few scenes - I'll copy some in near the end. The French artist, JR (he keeps his identity hidden) has added huge black and white photographs as murals to the sides of many buildings in Baden Baden as part of his 'Unframed' exhibition in one of the galleries - displayed until the end of June 2014.
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| B500 |
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| Action shot of the B.F as we wound around the B500. |
After filling up with Diesel we headed back down the B500 to have the picnic lunch we had bought, at Germany's highest lake. We were worried that we might miss it as the map showed a small road off the 500 leading to it and some photos in the tour guides made it look like a crater lake that required a bit of a walk down to it. We should have relaxed, there were huge car parks and souvenir shops as well as a big hotel. We pulled in to have a look around but decided it was too cold to sit down for lunch.
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| Lake Mummelsee - highest lake in Germany Petal made it into the photo just in time. |
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| We're all a bit worried that the camera left on the picnic table for the timer shot might get picked up by the bomber! |
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| Frolicking in the Black Forest If the trees had been beech it would have been just like NZ |
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| Souvenir Hats - Willow's is the traditional Black forest Bollenhut(aknockoff version), red for girls, black for married women. Petal is wearing a Wagnarian opera helmet with plaits! They stayed in the shop. |
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| Legend of the Lake. E. Mörike wrote a poem of the legend It seems that the King of the Lake dragged down some beautiful ladies to spend eternity in his Kingdom and he is always on the lookout for more. Watch out Willow! |
On our way to Wolfach for our lunch stop where I was keen to see their traditional glassblowing wares (Dorotheehutte). We drove through a little town with Heidi meadows and really strange looking sheep. There was also a Bear and Wolf park that we wished we had time to stop at. Descendants of Redridinghood's wolf may have been prowling through the wooded enclosures. Such tales and the odd attack on stock or humans have resulted in the extinction of any in the wild.
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| A BF breed of woolly sheep with lambs |
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| A Hamlet on the B500 - This area is a popular cross country ski destination for the European enthusiasts. |
Hashlach is a UNESCO protected town of cultural heritage, it has the most completely preserved traditional buildings of any of the BF towns. The Wolfach Town hall streetscape is said to be the largest facade though so to save time from having to double back on our route we made do with this. So lucky to have such wonderful weather.
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| Picnic lunch - The Wolf or Kinzig river - they meet here at Wolfach |
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| M enjoying the dramatic stance |
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| Town hall to the right The images painted onto the facade look scarily Ariyn - celebrating the honour of the agricultural labourer. A few days before French allies entered the town at the end of WWII, the Gestapo made the French resistance fighters and political prisoners they had captive here, dig their own graves in a nearby forest and shot them. I'd rather have the giant yellow blob is a blow up Easter egg than Nazi banners in town. Everywhere we went had extensive Easter decorations. |
Next scheduled stop were the highest waterfalls in Germany. These can be found in Triberg. Soo many tourist shops but a great day out for the nature minded. There was a beautiful woodcarving store. The prices reflected the art and expertise but Willow bought a small wolf carved in maple wood because it reminded her of Nana reading
Treasures in the Snow in Yr2. M bought a felt hat with ties of wool from the BF sheep we had seen to ad to his international hat collection. The walking sticks at the carvers shop were looked at enviously but the starting price was 75E. And Petal bought another lighter.
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| A squirrel held the Camera straight for this shot - Falls left back. |
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| Lower half of the Falls |
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| Petal swinging as she waits for the rest of us to make it down the mountain (hill) |
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| From the entrance to the Falls park back into Triberg. The shops I mentioned are out of shot - left |
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| Nearly to the bottom of the Falls again without spotting a squirrel anywhere - I bet Charlie and Chester would have |
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| Little green riding hood - hoping for a better outcome, poor Granny |
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| A trophy for the boys back home - Maybe RevD and R could carve one up for their garden makeover |
My aim was to sample a genuine Black Forest Gateau, we had seen lots of Kirsch and cherry slices for sale but I was beginning to despair of the chocolate cherry layer cake. We drove into Titsee after climbing up to a sparsely vegetated plateau and winding back down to this Lake resort. The first cafe we tried that was advertising 'Genuine recipe BFG' was closed but we found another. A french waiter served up four generous slices, coffees and water as we sat in the sun overlooking the lake. In information centre below we saw an intriguing video of the adventures to be had in the area. It had been made with time lapse and a strange thirds focusing technique to produce shots that looked like miniature models. On the way out, heading towards our hotel for the night beside Lake Konstance we passed a huge indoor swimming complex (Galaxy Schwarzwald in Titisee) with massive windows overlooking the lake, a fake beach, water rides and a packed car park. I would never have of thought to take togs on a spring holiday in Bavaria but this day's travels has proved how wrong I was.
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| We didn't need the German phrase book - Willow ordered in French! Great cherries but I prefer my version with more chocolate and a moister cake. The whipped cream had Kirsch in it which warmed the throat. |
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Another food ambition was realised in
Meersberg that night. M got his burnt butter
(not coloured like yours, he said)
Spargel. |
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I ordered hollandaise with mine
Salty, buttery boiled potatoes and parsley
are the traditional accompaniment. |
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| Lake Konstanz at the holiday town of Meersberg in front of our Hotel - Flair Hotel zum Schiff |
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| The Schloss at Meersberg overlooking the Ferry crossing to Konstanz |
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Our Baden Baden photos compared to Sheychuck's pastles.
Building on the left: Festspielhaus - Annual National Dance Championships are held in this performance
hall
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| Kath Kirche BB |
Read:
Perfume, the story of a murderer by Partick Suskind (German 1985) translated into English by John E Woods in 1987 Penguin books.
The protagonist is an antihero who has no personal scent, making him invisible to the masses of Parisian unwashed. Yet he has a genius ability to identify, remember and create smells. Reading the back cover I was expecting him to be an evil genius who uses the mysterious power of olfactory chemicals for personal advantage and political intrigue with a rip roaring happy ending. Well I was nearly right. His ghastly demise is one of the most disturbing things I have ever read and even though I really tried I could summon no sympathy or empathy for Grenouille at all. He didn't need much but took what he wanted without any thought for any one else. It explored a sense that we often take for granted and its effect on personal relationships and popularity. Certainly different and engaging.
It begins in 18thC Paris, travels to Grasse in Provence and back.
"This baby makes my flesh creep because it doesn't smell the way children ought to smell... a baby's smell ... their feet smell like fresh butter ...their bodies like pancake soaked in milk ... at the back of the head, where the hair makes a cowlick ....is where they smell best of all. It smells like caramel." p13
"I know all of the odours in the world, all of them, only I don't know the names of some of them but I can learn names." p77
"Though his perfume might allow him to appear before the world as a god - if he could not smell himself and thus never know who he was, to hell with it, with the world, with himself, with his perfume." p260
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Taken by M - 1.5.14 in front of the study window. -
"What's
in a name? that which we call a rose by any
other name would smell as sweet;
R&J Act II scene 2 - Will Shakespeare
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