31 October: Happy Halloween

For a while there it looked like fall was on fast-forward and we were going to have an early winter, but it seems that nature has slowed down to smell the crisp autumn air and we have had a month of gorgeous weather, intermixed with periods of dreary drizzle (which is fine with me because I prefer to write when it is gloomy outside). For the past few weeks we have enjoyed watching the colors change out on the Birkenkopf and I am relishing my long daily walks with Cody. The forest paths are papered with beech and oak leaves in every shade of orange, from apricot to burnt umber, interspersed by the occasional lemon-yellow maple, and a chill nip in the air hints at the winter to come. You’d think that autumn would be a sorrowful time – the lazy warm days of summer have come to an end and it proceeds what will inevitably be a long, cold, wet winter – but I just love these fleeting days, particularly when the sun is shining through the leaves.

There’s been some discussion lately on the Fodor’s internet forum about Halloween and whether it is catching on in Europe, so I decided to do my very own Highly Unscientific Survey of Halloween Activities in Stuttgart. The results are as follows:

· Number of pumpkins artistically arranged on front porches: too many to count

· Number of carved jack-o-lanterns spotted in our neighborhood: 2 (one appeared in late September!)

· Number of jack-o-lanterns actually lit, with a candle, on Halloween night: 1

· Number of trick-or-treaters who rang our doorbell: 1 (sadly, we had no candy to offer aside from the marzipans we just brought back from Lübeck, and we were not willing to part with those)

So, it seems that Stuttgart is safe from the revelry of Halloween – for the time being. Give it another five years or so and it will probably be a different story.

29 October: Autumn View

Today I took a picture looking through our office window at our gorgeous chestnut tree, which has turned an incredible brilliant gold. This is my favorite time of year, and as I sit here at my computer I get to look at this view whenever I want. I am going to miss our beautiful tree. (I say that now, but in a few weeks those lovely leaves will be all over the garden and you know who will have to clean them up!)

26 October: Lunch with Beth & Katrina

I met Beth and Katrina downtown for lunch today. We went to a new Italian place just off of the Schlossplatz which is part of a chain of pizza-pasta places with a unique format: you walk in and pick up a plastic card like a credit card, which you use to “buy” your food at various stations, where they make pizza and pasta to your specifications. If you’re ordering a pizza, you get a pager that goes off when your pizza is ready. You buy drinks at another station and then at the end of your meal you go to the checkout station, where they take your card and ring you up. The place was packed and the pizza was quite good. Afterwards we went over to Starbucks behind the Schlossplatz and hung out in the upstairs lounge for a long time. It was quite an enjoyable way to spend a Friday afternoon with good friends!

24 October: Too Many Rhine Castles to Count!

We awoke to a rather cloudy, dreary morning – not the best sort of weather for castle viewing, but we couldn’t complain because we had had great weather so far (for late October) with no rain. We realized that we could see all the way to Burg Pfalz, the famous island castle in the middle of the Rhine, from our window. We had breakfast in a different dining room at the Schönburg, furnished with cozy bench seats under the windows, and were served our food at our table as opposed to the traditional buffet. They brought us a multi-tiered serving tray loaded with different kinds of meats, cheeses, and smoked and pickled fish.

After breakfast we decided to do a little castle exploring. John is always a little leery when I get in the mood to venture down dark passageways and open unmarked doors, but this time we found our way out onto the ruined stone walls of the castle’s outer fortifications and were rewarded with an incredible panoramic view of the castle and surrounding countryside (photo, right). We rambled about on top of the walls for a bit and then John scoped out a long, dark staircase built directly into the wall, but the door at the bottom was locked. Back on the ground, we explored some of the other public rooms of the castle, including the library and the prison tower, which has been converted into a cozy dining nook, then circled around to the other side of the castle to take in the view over the town of Oberwesel, dominated by the red stone Liebfrauenkirche. We didn’t have time to explore the town but it looked like an interesting place, with a number of its defensive towers and walls still intact.

With great reluctance, we packed up our things had our luggage taken down to the car, and said farewell to the Schönburg. We had all day to get back to Stuttgart so we decided to do an “up-and-down” tour of the Mittelrhein, with a stop at Marksburg, the only land-based castle on the Rhine to have survived the centuries virtually intact. We headed north on the west side of the river, literally ticking off castles as we went along. You cannot drive for more than about five minutes on either side of the Rhine without spotting a castle. While the landscape and vineyards may not be as dramatic as the Mosel (the Rhine valley is wider and marred by railroad tracks up and down its length), you can’t beat the Rhine for its pure density of castles, thus it automatically makes my list as one of the most spectacular areas we’ve visited in Germany. In most cases we had the best views of the castles on the opposite side of the river, so I will describe them in that order.

Just north of Oberwesel we passed the famous cliff of Loreley, a 430-foot-high outcropping of dark slate named for the beautiful blonde nymph who lured sailors and fishermen to their deaths in the treacherous rapids below. At the well-fortified town of St. Goar, we could see across the river to the two 14^th-century castles perched above St. Goarshausen whose names, Burg Katz (photo, right) and Burg Maus, are reflective of the numerous power struggles that plagued the region during the Middle Ages. In response to the construction of Burg Rheinfels at St. Goar, the archbishop of Trier constructed a small castle just north of St. Goarshausen. In turn, the masters of Rheinfels, the counts of Katzenelnbogen, built a bigger castle directly above St. Goarshausen, no more than a quarter-mile away. Its name was shortened to Burg Katz, and its lesser neighbor was mockingly referred to as Burg Maus.

Just a few miles further north, near the town of Boppard on the west side of the river and Kamp-Bornhofen on the east, we came upon the castles of Liebenstein and Sterrenberg, known as the Feindliche Brüder (rival brothers). The two imposing structures are mere yards apart, separated by a stone “quarrel wall.” Legend has it that two brothers inhabited the castles and feuded over a shared love. Sterrenberg is the oldest preserved castle on the Rhine, first mentioned in 1034, while Liebenstein was not constructed until the 13^th century, but it is not know for what purpose – defense or to lay siege to Sterrenberg.

A few miles further on, we stopped along a wide bend in the river to watch a container barge chug past and to take some pictures of the E-Class in yet another spectacular setting (photo, right; by this point we should have enough photos for an entire “E-Class in Europe” calendar). We had to drive a few miles past Marksburg in order to reach a point where we could cross the Rhine. We crossed on a bridge just north of Lahnstein, where Burg Lahneck was constructed in 1226 by the Archbishop of Mainz and Prince Elector Siegfried of Eppenstein to protect their territory at the mouth of the River Lahn. We backtracked south again for a few miles to the town of Braubach, which is dominated by the cream-and-orange lookout tower of Marksburg. We headed up a narrow winding road to a parking lot just below the castle, climbed a steep trail to the main entrance, and purchased tickets for an English tour.

Marksburg was built in the 12^th century to protect the silver and lead mines in the area and, as I mentioned previously, is the only Rhine castle that has never been destroyed. Our very friendly, elderly guide used a giant key to let us in through the massive gate and we proceeded up a roughly-paved road to the castle proper. On the outer battlements we got a look at some early cannons, took a good sniff of the medieval herb garden, and enjoyed the panoramic view of the Rhine valley (photo, right) before heading inside. We started at the bottom with the wine cellar, dominated by a row of enormous wine barrels and a huge wine press. Next stop was the kitchen, equipped with a cavernous fireplace, an extensive collection of pewter dishes, and a long trestle table. The living areas featured dark wood paneling, brightly painted murals, and cozy bench seats built into the walls next to the windows to take advantage of the natural light. After wandering through several twisting passages, we arrived at a roomful of mannequin knights outfitted in suits of armor (some replicas and some real) spanning some sixteen centuries of European history. Back outside, we returned to the outer walls and examined a reenactment of a blacksmith’s shop, complete with enormous bellows and anvil at the ready. The tour seemed to take in only a tiny fraction of the castle, but provided a fascinating glimpse into medieval life and architecture.

After our tour we checked out the gift shop and were going to drop in at the restaurant for a bite to eat, but the place looked totally deserted, so we decided to get underway again. We stopped at the base of the castle for some more pictures (photo, right) and then continued south, now on the east side of the river. We got a better view of the good-sized resort town of Boppard from this side, and were able to stop and get a decent shot of Burg Maus (the Rhine highways are somewhat lacking in pullouts for photo fanatics like me). At St. Goarhausen, we were finally able to see what we had only glimpsed as we drove through St. Goar earlier: the immense, sprawling ruins of Burg Rheinfels (photo, below). First established in 1245, the fortress was repeatedly expanded by the counts of Katzenelnbogen and their successors, the landgraves of Hesse, making St. Goar the best-fortified town in the Mittelrhein. The castle was ultimately destroyed by the French in 1797, but retains plenty of atmosphere. This place definitely merits a future visit!

A few miles further on we got a nice view of Schönburg towering over Oberwesel, then we continued up the river to Kaub and Burg Pfalz. At first we were only going to stop for a quick picture, but then we saw the waiting boat and decided to go ahead and check out the castle. For a few Euro we were ferried across to the island along with a German family with two young children. From the island we had a good view of Burg Gutenfels above Kaub and could see back down the river to Schönburg and Oberwesel.

Burg Pfalzgrafenstein – shortened to Pfalz – is a unique six-sided, six-story tower built on a rocky outcropping in the middle of the Rhine. Built by King Ludwig I in 1326 to collect customs duties from vessels operating on the river, the castle resembles nothing so much as a giant stone ship, with its upstream defensive wall serving as the prow. The castle’s bold orange-and-white color scheme is Baroque, as is the elegant cap of the tower. A chain across the river forced ships to stop and pay customs duties, and uncooperative merchants were kept in the dungeon until ransom was paid. Like Marksburg, the Pfalz was never destroyed and has withstood not only battles, but natural threats in the form of floods and ice floes.

We walked up a steep flight of stairs to the castle’s imposing entry gate (photo, right) and paid our admission to a couple of guys hanging out in a cozy room tucked inside the castle walls. They joked with us a bit and gave us a much-abused laminated guide to the castle, then we proceeded on our self-guided tour.

Unlike many restored castles, the Pfalz, which quartered about twenty men at any given time, reflects the living conditions of the 14^th century and is furnished very simply with a smattering of household goods. One of the most interesting tidbits gleaned from our handout was that one of the masters of the castle was excommunicated by the Pope for collecting illegal tolls on the river. In the winter of 1814, the island was used by 60,000 Prussian troops led by Blücher to cross the Rhine in their pursuit of Napoleon. The castle was acquired by Prussia in 1866, whereupon toll collections ceased. It was used as a signal station for river boat traffic well into the mid-20^th century, and then became the property of the State of Rheinland-Pfalz.

Inside, we explored several floors of the castle, including the well-fortified defensive walls armed with cannons, several strategically placed gun ports, and the officers’ living quarters. In the center of the castle there is an enormous clay bread oven, which is apparently quite a rare specimen. We discovered the rather spartan lavatory as well as the dungeon, into which unfortunate prisoners were lowered by means of a piece of wood tied to a rope.

After completing our tour of the interior, we made a complete circle around the castle, admiring its oddly elegant structure (photo, right). The foundations are marked with the highwater marks from various floods – the highest being from 1988. A gilded lion holding a sword and shield adorns the “prow” of the castle; during one particularly harsh winter, the ice flows on the river came up to the lion (easily 25 feet above the current river level) and wrenched the sword right out of its paws.

It was late afternoon by the time we took the boat back over to the mainland and continued on our journey south. We spotted two of three castles near Trechtingshausen, both perched on rocky outcroppings overlooking the river: the sprawling Burg Reichenstein and the rather quaint (by comparison) Burg Rheinstein. The latter was the home of Rudolf von Habsburg from 1282 to 1286, who destroyed the castles of Reichenstein and nearby Sooneck and had their robber barons hanged in an effort to restore law and order on the Rhine. All three of the castles are open to the public and house valuable collections of furniture, weapons, and art.

The final checkmark on our list of Rhine castle sightings went to the Mäuseturm (Mice Tower) near Bingen, a tall, narrow watchtower and toll station built by the archbishops of Mainz in the 13^th century. The name comes from a grisly legend recounted in our Fodor’s guidebook: “During a famine in 969, the miserly Archbishop Hatto hoarded grain and sought refuge in the tower to escape the peasants’ pleas for food. The stockpile attracted scads of mice to the tower, where they devoured everything in sight, including Hatto.” Since the tower wasn’t actually built until several hundred years later, this legend apparently doesn’t hold water (no river-related pun intended).

From Bingen we hooked up with the A61 and high-tailed it home to Stutgart, bringing to a close our last great Germany-based European adventure.

More photos from today:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/hausfrau/sets/72157604099509243/

23 October: Lübeck and Schönburg

I took zero notes about this day so this is all going to have to be written from memory. Of course I don’t remember a thing about breakfast at the Park Hotel but I’m sure it was nice. We packed up and checked out but left our car on the street so we could spend the morning exploring Lübeck.

First we walked back to the Holstentor and took some time to really appreciate this magnificent structure (read: we waited for the crowd of Japanese tourists to get out of the way so we could take pictures). This monumental brick gate – one of two original town gates still standing – was built between 1464 and 1478 and fittingly symbolizes Lübeck’s position as the “queen of the Hanseatic League.” The most amazing thing about the gate, other than its sheer size, is the amount of settling that has taken place over the past 600-odd years, which has slowly warped and twisted the brick walls of the structure, giving its surface an undulating appearance (photo, above). The two massive towers must be a good two feet off center at the top – in different directions!

The Altstadt of Lübeck is situated on an island in the Trave River and has been declared a UNESCO World Heritage site thanks to its outstanding collection of 13^th-15^th century buildings. We proceeded across the river and into the old town, heading first for the famous Marktplatz, where Romanesque, Gothic and Renaissance influences are evident in the striking Rathaus, dating from 1240. Unfortunately there was some construction going on in the square, so the atmosphere was not at its best.

Next we wandered towards the imposing twin spires of the Gothic Marienkirche, which boasts the highest brick nave in the world and is Germany’s third-largest church (photo, right). The church didn’t open until 10 am so we decided to continue our stroll and return later to go inside. Proceeding down a long, arched arcade, we happened upon Mengstraße just a block away and I finally got to see the Buddenbrookhaus, of Thomas Mann fame. (As you may recall, we read Buddenbrooks in my book club last year and I have been wanting to visit Lübeck ever since.) The house, an elegant white structure that was reconstructed after World War II, was home to Thomas Mann’s family, who, along with many Lübeck personalities, provided the inspiration (whether they liked it or not) for many of the characters in Buddenbrooks (photo, below).

We headed back along the Hauptstraße to Konditorei-Café Niederegger, makers of the most famous marzipan in the world. Legend has it that marzipan was invented in Lübeck during a medieval famine. A local baker, having run out of grain to make bread, experimented with the only ingredients he had on hand – almonds, sugar, rose water, and eggs – and formed the resulting paste into sweet almond “loaves” that we now know as marzipan. (Apparently marzipan really originated a few hundred years earlier in Persia, but the story is good and Lübecker Marzipan is considered the best of the best.) The brightly-lit shop was crammed floor-to-ceiling with every variety of marzipan imaginable: coated with milk and dark chocolate; flavored with orange, pistachio, pineapple, and coffee; and shaped into all manner of inventive forms: fruit, vegetable, animal, flower…you name it, they make it. After some exhaustive browsing, we picked out a few sampler boxes.

It was now time to return to the Marienkirche. The church, constructed between 1250 and 1350, has a stark white Gothic interior adorned with delicate floral designs in orange, green and yellow. It was almost completely burnt out on the night of Palm Sunday, 1942, and two of the mangled bells have been left where they fell as a memorial to the war. The church houses a replica of an elaborate 16^th-century astronomical clock, also destroyed in 1942. Reconstruction of the church began in 1947 and was completed only twelve years later.

We left the Hauptstraße to explore some of the curving, cobblestoned streets lined with elegant townhouses, then headed towards the Lübecker Dom, another magnificent redbrick church established in 1173 by Lübeck’s founder, Heinrich der Löwe (Henry the Lion). The cathedral – Lübeck’s oldest building – was also partly destroyed in 1942 and reconstruction was only completed in 1982, as greater priority was given to the Marienkirche (photo, right). Inside, the cathedral’s lofty white interior is virtually unadorned. The Dom is actually shorter than the Marienkirche – a consequence of the power struggle between the church and the merchant guilds that funded the construction of the Marienkirche.

We headed back toward the river and walked along the charming riverfront promenade, lined with more lovely rowhouses, some of them sporting crow-stepped gables typical of 15^th and 16^th century architecture. From a pedestrian bridge over the river, we enjoyed a lovely panoramic view of the Altstadt, taking in the Holstentor, Marienkirche, and Dom (photo, below). We passed by the Holstentor again on our way out and got some great photos of the memorable “leaning tower of Lübeck.”

We had a long drive ahead of us so we retrieved our car and set out southwards towards the Rhine Valley, our destination for the last night of this memorable German tour. I had booked the Falkonsuite at the Hotel auf Schönburg, a magnificent castle-hotel perched on a cliff over the town of Oberwesel on the Rhine River. We approached the castle from above and behind, rather than from the river, so when we finally made our way up the drive to the parking lot, we had no idea what was in store for us. The sun was just setting behind a thin veil of cotton-puff clouds and cast a warm glow over the immense fortified castle walls (photo, below). What a sight!

Schönburg castle dates to the 10^th century and, like so many castles on the Rhine, was the subject of numerous familial and regional feuds. Beginning in the 12^th century, the Dukes of Schönburg ruled over the town of Oberwesel and levied customs from ships passing on the Rhine. Not unlike Burg Eltz, the castle passed to multiple heirs, and at the height of its power in the 14^th century was occupied by some 250 people from 24 different families. The Schönburg lineage died out in the 15^th century and in 1689 the castle was burned down by French soldiers during the Palatinate war. The castle was left in ruins until an American businessman of German descent, Mr. Rhinelander (what a name!), bought the castle from the town of Oberwesel in the late 19^th century and invested two million Marks in restoring it. The town bought the castle back from Mr. Rhinelander’s son in 1950, and it has been operating as a hotel under a long-term lease to the Hüttl family since 1957.

We dragged our bags across the moat, through several arched gates, and up a steep cobbled path to the reception area (they do have luggage service for those who want it). We left our bags in the lobby and were led up a marvelous maze of passageways and staircases to our rooms on the uppermost floor of the distinctive red-painted portion of the hotel. The long, narrow suite, consisting of a bedroom, sitting room, and bathroom, was decorated in rich blue and gold, with a beautiful canopy bed, dark antique furnishings, and leaded glass windows. The bathroom was a marvel of white and yellow tile with an arched tub enclosure and a huge black marble pedestal sink. We had views out of both sides of the castle – northwest over steep vineyard-covered slopes, and southeast down a long stretch of the Rhine. The island castle of Pfalz was just visible in the distance.

We had reservations for the Schönburg’s seven-course tasting menu at 7:00, which gave us plenty of time to clean up and prepare for this last great indulgence. We made our way downstairs and found the formal dining room, where we joined a young couple and a party of four Peruvians. Unfortunately my copy of the menu is buried somewhere under two years of souvenir maps and brochures, but suffice it to say that the meal was superb and the service excellent!

More photos from today:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/hausfrau/sets/72157604062737484/

22 October: The Königstuhl and Kap Arkona

We awoke to an extraordinary blue-and-gold sunrise over the Baltic (right). To the north the white cliffs of the Stubbenkammer headland gleamed in the pale morning light. We wandered through the glass-roofed atrium of the Kurhaus and into the older wing of the hotel in search of breakfast. We passed through a richly-decorated salon done in red and gold brocade and finally found the breakfast room, where we discovered an incredible buffet. It was hands-down the best breakfast we have had anywhere in Europe. An entire room was devoted to the buffet and we had our pick of a seemingly endless variety of hot and cold dishes (including more than a few unidentifiable pickled fish salads). Sitting at our elegantly-laid table looking out at the calm waters of the Baltic, it was not hard to imagine this place full of 19^th-century vacationers here for their “summer cure.” We stuffed ourselves silly and then walked out to the pier to take in the gorgeous sea views (below). The beach was lined with more of the classic canopied beach chairs in bright shades of yellow and green, but they were all folded up for the season. (In the summer, you can rent the chairs by the hour and relax out of the sun under their striped awnings.) We wandered the quiet shopping streets for a while (failing in my mission to find an appropriate Rügen magnet) and then ambled down the beachfront promenade, admiring the beautiful old mansions and hotels.

We decided to drive out to the Stubenkammer headland to check out the Königstuhl, a 350-foot-high chalk cliff that is one of Rügen’s star natural attractions. En route we drove through Sassnitz, which seemed a bit run-down compared to Binz. We followed the rather confusing signs for the Königstuhl, located in Jasmund National Park, and ended up in a huge parking lot at the head of a trail leading into the woods. We walked a full 3 km on a forested path that must have once been a road, since the old cobbles still showed through in places. (I pictured horse-drawn carriages carrying ladies in lavish dresses through the woods to marvel at the white cliffs.) The walk itself was just lovely – it was another brilliant autumn day and the sunlight angling through the yellow leaves was simply gorgeous – but the white cliffs were a bit of a letdown. Let’s just say they have nothing on Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. To make things worse, we had to pay a ridiculous amount of money (I think it was 6 Euros each) to enter the site and we were there for all of about 15 minutes – and that was on top of a parking fee we had to pay back at the lot. We walked out onto a narrow observation area on the cliffs where we were crammed in with about forty other people, took our pictures, walked quickly through the visitor center, and left. I should note that the cliffs would probably be more dramatic if viewed from below; a steep trail can take you down to the shore but we didn’t have time to make the hike.

On the walk back, we veered off the trail to check out the Opferstein (“sacrificial stone”). Human activity in the area dates back to the Stone Age and apparently some of the people who lived here performed the occasional ritual human sacrifice. The stone itself wasn’t much to look at but someone had thoughtfully smeared it with red paint to simulate blood. Unfortunately John refused to pose as a model for my photo.

We decided that as long as we were all the way out here on the outer shores of Rügen, we might as well go a few more miles up the coast to Kap Arkona, the northernmost point in East Germany. We had to park outside the tiny hamlet of Putgarten and walk another 2 km out to the three lighthouses that mark the tip of the peninsula (photo, right; who knew we were going to get such a good workout today!). Along the way we passed another new development of pastel-hued thatched-roof cottages. We bought tickets to climb the highest of the lighthouses and were rewarded with a nice 360-degree view of the island (photo, below). Way off in the distance we could see the Danish island of Moen.

There was a sort of mini-carnival set up near the parking lot so on the way back to the car we bought a bagful of sugary roasted almonds to tide us over until dinnertime. It was 4 pm by the time we finally got on the road and we hoped to make it to Lübeck in under three hours. On the way back across Rügen we drove by some run-down apartment blocks that gave us a taste of what most of eastern Germany still looks like. They’ve obviously done a lot of work to spruce up places like Rügen but the whole of eastern Germany is still way behind the west economically.

We think we may have been among the first travelers to cross the new Rügenbrücke – as we drove across, people were flashing their headlights, waving, taking pictures, and we even saw a car go by with a TV camera hanging out the roof. We waved at everyone and smiled – maybe we were on TV tonight! On the way back to Lübeck I drove a nearly 200-kilometer stretch of unlimited, empty Autobahn at speeds of around 200 kph and managed to cut a full half-hour off our estimated travel time.

We arrived in Lübeck after dark and managed to find our hotel, the Park Hotel am Lindenplatz with just a bit more difficulty than usual. I had discovered this hotel on Trip Advisor (it was ranked much higher than the places listed in Fodor’s) and we found it to be a surprisingly nice place, located just a couple of blocks from Lübeck’s famous gate, the Holstentor. The Park Hotel takes up two restored townhouses and is decorated in a cozy modern style, with high ceilings and clean-lined wood furnishings. We checked in with the friendly gentleman at the front desk and dropped our things in our pleasant two-room suite on the ground floor, from which we could keep an eye on our car parked out on the street.

We ended up walking nearly all the way across the old city, past the magnificent Holstentor and Rathaus, to arrive at the Fischergesellschaft (Mariner’s Society), a famous restaurant that I had read raves about. John was annoyed by the long walk but it was so worth it! At first we were afraid the place wasn’t open because the entry was so dark, but the door was open and as we walked through we literally stepped back in time. We felt like we had stepped onto a movie set. The restaurant opened in 1535 and was a gathering place for shipowners and merchants for centuries (they didn’t allow women in until 1870). The cavernous room is full of long church-style pews and 400-year-old oak tables. Each pew is marked with the coat of arms of a city along the Baltic shipping routes, and each shipowner had their own pew and table. The huge oak beams supporting the ceiling sag visibly with age; huge model ships hang from the ceiling along with enormous brass chandeliers lit with real candles, and elaborate painted murals of shipping themes line the walls. We were seated along the side of the room so we had the perfect vantage point from which to absorb the atmosphere.

I was worried that it all might just be too good to be true, but the food was excellent as well. I had the classic Ostseescholle, a whole Baltic sole fried with crispy bacon and served with potato and cucumber salad, which was simply delicious. John had salmon with spinach, parsley potatoes, and hollandaise sauce. For dessert I had apple-marzipan Struedel and John had Rumtopf – vanilla ice cream smothered in rum-soaked berries. Our waiter was polite but aloof until the end of the meal, when he asked if we were living in Germany. We told him yes, and then he said, “But you are American,” and we told him our story. He said it was uncommon to meet Americans who spoke such good German and we proceeded to have a nice conversation with him. I just wonder why he took so long to open up! We enjoyed the long stroll back to our hotel and turned in, marveling over our day’s full and fascinating journey across the northern reaches of Germany.

More photos from today:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/hausfrau/sets/72157604062273222/

21 October: Hamburg to Rügen

It was Sunday morning so we decided to splurge on breakfast at the hotel (a whopping 22 Euro per person, but at least they had an elaborate buffet and a mouth-watering menu of eggs made-to-order). I had eggs Benedict and John had scrambled eggs with smoked salmon. We didn’t roll out onto the road until 11 a.m., but one has to indulge a little at a 5-star hotel, after all!

Today’s agenda was a leisurely drive from Hamburg to the former East German resort island of Rügen. We knew it would be a stretch to get all the way to Rügen on this trip, but I had heard many good things about it and I thought it would be nice to finally be able to say that we had ventured into the former East Germany. I mapped out a route for us that would take us north towards Lübeck, east past Wismar, and north to Rostock on the Autobahn, then we would veer north to Ahrenshoop, a tiny village on the Darß peninsula, a curved slip of land that juts out into the Ostsee (Baltic Sea). I had seen a picture of Ahrenshoop in the “My Favourite Deutschland” Mercedes calendar that John was given when he picked up his B-Class last year, and ever since I have been saying “I want to go there.” It looked so peaceful, with its windswept beach and quaint thatched-roof cottages.

The drive into East Germany was blissful thanks to the gorgeous new Autobahn (West German tax dollars at work!). The rest areas were so new that some of them weren’t even open yet and it looked like they had just planted the landscaping. We crossed the old border somewhere east of Lübeck; it is now marked only by a sign along the freeway. It was exciting to finally see signs for Berlin and even Poland as wee headed further east. The drive took us through gently rolling countryside as we skirted Lübeck, Wismar, and Rostock, stopped for gas in Roggentin, then headed north towards the Darß peninsula.

We arrived in Ahrenshoop in the early afternoon and the first thing we noticed as we drove into town was all the thatched-roof cottages, including a brand-new residential subdivision in which all the houses were painted cheerful shades of periwinkle, orange, yellow, and green. I wish I knew more about this ancient form of northern architecture – the roofs are simply beautiful constructions, with rounded corners and crossed wood beams at the peaks that are carved in the shapes of animal heads. We parked in a visitor lot next to a Frischemarkt supermarket that also sported a thatched roof. In fact, most of the buildings in town – old and new, commercial and residential – had thatched roofs, which I thought was very cool.

We took a stroll down a tree-lined promenade past more thatched-roof vacation cottages (now mostly shuttered up for the season) and out to the grassy bluff overlooking a long stretch of smooth white beach. A few dozen striped beach chairs were scattered across the sand and several families were out for their afternoon walk (photo, right). We followed a trail up the beach back towards our car and, without realizing it at the time, I took a picture of the very same cottage that is pictured in our Mercedes calendar (photo, above).

Back in the car, we crossed the Darß peninsula, which is mostly a nature preserve protecting an ancient stand of beech-juniper forest, then returned to the mainland and continued east to Stralsund, gateway to the island of Rügen. We had to follow an elaborate detour to cross the old bridge over to the island; above us we saw hordes of people walking on the brand-new suspension bridge, which was apparently being opened this weekend.

The barren, windswept island of Rügen has been a mecca for artists, writers, and vacationers since the railroads began bringing visitors to its shores in the mid-19^th century. The island’s major resort centers are Sassnitz, Binz, Sellin, and Göhren, and I had booked us a room for the night at the Kurhaus Binz, described as the “grand old lady of the Baltic Sea” in our guidebook. The drive across Rügen’s empty countryside on lovely tree-lined roads was simply blissful; it actually reminded us a lot of northern Michigan. We finally arrived at the seaside village of Binz around 5 pm. We have never been to Michigan’s Mackinac Island, but I immediately made the comparison based on pictures I’ve seen – Binz is all about grand Victorian hotels and shops, all painted out in crisp white with elaborate gingerbread trim. We were pleased to find that the Kurhaus Binz was among the grandest of them all, and the interior was every bit as lavish as the exterior. We had a bit of trouble navigating ourselves to the hotel entrance because Susie kept trying to take us around to the front, which is directly on the beach, but we got a nice tour of Binz in the process. We brought out bags into the lobby, John parked the E-Class in the subterranean garage, and we were shown to our spacious and elegantly-appointed room, done in ocean-inspired tones of yellow and blue. John commented that it had a very “American luxury hotel” feel to it, unlike any other hotel we have stayed at in Germany. From our balcony we could look east to the sea, where the peach glow of sunset was just visible under a thick bank of gray clouds.

I decided to take a stroll out to the pier to see the last of the sunset (photo, below) while John stayed inside to watch the final Formula 1 race of the season. It was quite chilly and windy, so I didn’t stay out long, but I did walk a ways down the beachfront promenade to check out our dining options (the hotel’s restaurant menu looked interesting but it was very pricey). I talked John into having dinner at the casual, modern Fischküche nearby because they were showing the F1 race on a largescreen TV. There were hardly any people in the restaurant; Binz is obviously a summer-oriented resort and it was nice to be there when everything was quiet. I had the Pfannefisch platter on special, with steinbutt, perch, and a third kind of fish, scattered with tiny poached shrimp and green onions. John had three kinds of smoked fish with Rösti-style potatoes. For dessert John had a sabayone cream with berries and hazelnut ice cream and I had a nut-filled pancake concoction that was simply delicious!

Photos from today:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/hausfrau/sets/72157604055574806/