Friday, June 6, 2014
Off to France
We leave in the morning for two days in Paris, then our Backroads bike trip in Brittany and Normandy, and then a few more days in Paris. So there will be radio silence here for about ten days. But don't worry, we'll be having fun.
Thursday, June 5, 2014
Travelling around Germany -- Bamberg and Heidelberg
The first half of this week was my adventure with the Deutsche Bahn, the German Railway system. The first week in June turned out to be the best week to visit two friends, Dorothee and Eva. Dorothee is currently in Bamberg and Eva in Heidelberg.
The story starts (as far too many stories do) with cell phone problems. My US cell phone turned into a brick (more accurately, into a land line -- it works fine so long as it is plugged in). Jay had brought an extra cell phone, because he had thought he might sign up for local data on it. He believed that phone was unlocked, so I bought a local SIM card, but it took interactions with ATT (where he bought the cell), Apple (it's an iPhone) and the SIM card provider to get the phone really unlocked and the right kind of plan/money on the card. Since Germans apparently don't believe in using credit cards for things like prepaid phone plans, this was an adventure.
Once I had a working cell with a data plan, not only could I call my hosts to let them know if I was delayed, I could download the deutschebahn app, and track my progress as I traveled. This was a godsend. Using German trains is overall pretty easy, assuming you are OK with lugging suitcases up and down lots of stairs (there are supposed to be elevators or escalators, but in my experience they only work about half the time). The trains consistently show up on the same track every time, and there is a sign telling you if you have the right train. The trains are comfortable, and, as a single traveler, all my seat mates were pleasant.
The problems come when you try to figure which is your stop. On the long distance trains, announcements are often made in English (but not on the local trains), but they are as impossible to understand as the German announcements. There is a sign for each station, but many times there is another train blocking the view of it. The deutschebahn app allowed me to see the list of stations between my starting and ending point, and let me know which station I was at. It would also have allowed me to find an alternative train, if I had missed any of my connections. It turned out that all the trains were on time for me, but especially going from Bamberg to Heidelberg, where I had 4 connections to make, I was panicked that I would miss at least one of them
First Bamberg. I went there to visit Dorothee and her husband Dieter. Dorothee was an exchange student with my family many years ago, but I've never visited her before. She's in the diplomatic corps, and I managed to find out that she was going to be in Germany overlapping my visit. Bamberg is a lovely town, the center of which is a World Heritage site, in the northern end of Bavaria. The old buildings have details like this one
And here is a picture of Dorothee in front of one of the doors to the Dom, the cathedral there (this is a catholic part of Germany).
Obviously, I didn't get close enough on that one for you to really see her, but the church is impressive.
We also visited the Church of the Fourteen Holy Helpers. This is a baroque church, so lots of gold, jewels and curlicues, devoted to fourteen saints that one prayed to for various ailments (headache, fever, childbirth) during the plague years. Absolutely gorgeous, but my camera was not up to the task of taking good pictures of it.
Heidelberg is a university town, and Eva, the daughter of the friends we visited in Oldenburg, is a medical student there. She had a free day that coincided with my availability, so I took the RE train to the ICE train to the RB (really slow train) to the EC train to get to her. She showed me around the town, including the very nice Altstadt (the old city), some parts of the university (the really old parts, which are more picturesque) and the Schloss (remnants of an old castle high on the hill) -- they tell you that's it's 303 steps up there. I did not confirm the count.
Here's the Neckar River that divides the town.
Here is Eva in front of the Schloss
And this is one of the old German fraternities (really drinking societies) that are on the walk up to the Schloss (these guys must have to wait till they sober up to go home. I could never walk up this steep cobblestone path drunk). The pattern of the roof tiles tells you something about the society.
I also got introduced by Eva to "melon shots" (speaking of drinking), which are apparently a Heidelberg specialty. Just what you think -- liqueur made from melon juice. Pretty good, but I'm a bit too old to drink them regularly.
After a leisurely breakfast before Eva's class the next day, I found my way back to the train station and to Duisburg. While I haven't yet experienced having to deal with a missed connection, I feel like a near expert on German trains.
The story starts (as far too many stories do) with cell phone problems. My US cell phone turned into a brick (more accurately, into a land line -- it works fine so long as it is plugged in). Jay had brought an extra cell phone, because he had thought he might sign up for local data on it. He believed that phone was unlocked, so I bought a local SIM card, but it took interactions with ATT (where he bought the cell), Apple (it's an iPhone) and the SIM card provider to get the phone really unlocked and the right kind of plan/money on the card. Since Germans apparently don't believe in using credit cards for things like prepaid phone plans, this was an adventure.
Once I had a working cell with a data plan, not only could I call my hosts to let them know if I was delayed, I could download the deutschebahn app, and track my progress as I traveled. This was a godsend. Using German trains is overall pretty easy, assuming you are OK with lugging suitcases up and down lots of stairs (there are supposed to be elevators or escalators, but in my experience they only work about half the time). The trains consistently show up on the same track every time, and there is a sign telling you if you have the right train. The trains are comfortable, and, as a single traveler, all my seat mates were pleasant.
The problems come when you try to figure which is your stop. On the long distance trains, announcements are often made in English (but not on the local trains), but they are as impossible to understand as the German announcements. There is a sign for each station, but many times there is another train blocking the view of it. The deutschebahn app allowed me to see the list of stations between my starting and ending point, and let me know which station I was at. It would also have allowed me to find an alternative train, if I had missed any of my connections. It turned out that all the trains were on time for me, but especially going from Bamberg to Heidelberg, where I had 4 connections to make, I was panicked that I would miss at least one of them
First Bamberg. I went there to visit Dorothee and her husband Dieter. Dorothee was an exchange student with my family many years ago, but I've never visited her before. She's in the diplomatic corps, and I managed to find out that she was going to be in Germany overlapping my visit. Bamberg is a lovely town, the center of which is a World Heritage site, in the northern end of Bavaria. The old buildings have details like this one
And here is a picture of Dorothee in front of one of the doors to the Dom, the cathedral there (this is a catholic part of Germany).
Obviously, I didn't get close enough on that one for you to really see her, but the church is impressive.
We also visited the Church of the Fourteen Holy Helpers. This is a baroque church, so lots of gold, jewels and curlicues, devoted to fourteen saints that one prayed to for various ailments (headache, fever, childbirth) during the plague years. Absolutely gorgeous, but my camera was not up to the task of taking good pictures of it.
Heidelberg is a university town, and Eva, the daughter of the friends we visited in Oldenburg, is a medical student there. She had a free day that coincided with my availability, so I took the RE train to the ICE train to the RB (really slow train) to the EC train to get to her. She showed me around the town, including the very nice Altstadt (the old city), some parts of the university (the really old parts, which are more picturesque) and the Schloss (remnants of an old castle high on the hill) -- they tell you that's it's 303 steps up there. I did not confirm the count.
Here's the Neckar River that divides the town.
Here is Eva in front of the Schloss
And this is one of the old German fraternities (really drinking societies) that are on the walk up to the Schloss (these guys must have to wait till they sober up to go home. I could never walk up this steep cobblestone path drunk). The pattern of the roof tiles tells you something about the society.
I also got introduced by Eva to "melon shots" (speaking of drinking), which are apparently a Heidelberg specialty. Just what you think -- liqueur made from melon juice. Pretty good, but I'm a bit too old to drink them regularly.
After a leisurely breakfast before Eva's class the next day, I found my way back to the train station and to Duisburg. While I haven't yet experienced having to deal with a missed connection, I feel like a near expert on German trains.
German postal service delivery bikes
While someone had told me about German postal workers delivering mail by bike, I hadn't seen any till yesterday (when I saw four of them). I had a very "American" reaction to them -- or rather to how deliveries are made. First, the bikes look like this
See the kickstand-like apparatus in front (with the tiny wheels) that holds it upright when the rider is off the bike.
They clearly hold a lot of mail and look pretty practical, but I saw the workers going into apartment buildings and office buildings, closing the door such that they couldn't see the bike, and being gone for 3-4 minutes. My immediate reaction was "but someone could steal the mail...". Apparently that doesn't concern the Germans, as these are used everywhere.
I don't think they make the actual delivery any faster, as the worker has to stop at pretty much every address, so it's hardly worth getting on the bike between houses, but it would make the trip back to refill it (which must have to happen several times a day) much faster than walking. And given the narrow streets and alleyways all over Germany, it would be impossible to use the kinds of trucks that are used in the US.
Cultural differences are everywhere, and my reactions are so interesting (at least to the anthropologist in me).
Sunday, June 1, 2014
Biking in Germany.
We decided to rent bikes this weekend and tour the local area, in part because we are going on a Backroads bike trip in 10 days and we wanted to get our legs (and butts) a bit into shape, not having done any biking since we left the US almost a month ago. This was such an interesting cross cultural experience.
The original plan was to bike from Thursday to Sunday. We were surprised to discover there was an official German holiday Thursday -- Ascension Day -- and everyone takes a 4 day weekend, so the lab was empty. By the time we figured it out, Jay had some concalls with the US he couldn't avoid, and it seemed that all the trains and hotels were full. When we say "everyone takes a 4 day weekend", that means everyone. Despite weather predictions that the rain would end Wednesday, it rained all day Thursday, and Friday was a bit too wet to bike comfortably (but we did get a good 6-7 mile hike in).
We rented bikes at a place less than 1km from our guest apartment. They would only rent us "city bikes" -- heavy (maybe 40 or more pounds) very upright bikes, with no cross bar and a fat saddle. Also coaster brakes and a 7 speed shifter. Not quite what we are used to (which are 10 pound bikes with 30 speeds, caliper brakes, drop handlebars, and a racing saddle. ) Some Germans do own "trekking bikes" -- what we would call touring bikes -- but most of what we saw were people on bikes about one step up from what we were pedaling.
The place did not rent helmets, so we biked heads unprotected. This bothered me a lot on both days -- I am so accustomed to riding with a helmet. Most Germans do not wear helmets, as most German bike paths are separated from the traffic (sometimes as part of the sidewalk, with the curb as a barrier, sometimes with another barrier), but there are times when the bikes are adjacent to traffic, as in the US, or that you ride as part of traffic, and there the lack of a helmet bothered me most. The routes we took included such places, and most of the riders we saw on those parts were wearing helmets (these were usually fit young guys who had American style road bikes, spandex clothing and rode like hell), but our route directions didn't warn us that we were going on "helmet advised " parts of the road. Maybe overall 20% of the bike riders we saw wore helmets.
I had brought my new Garmin Edge Touring with a biking map of Europe. We were able to download two 10-12 mile routes that started near us (making it 20-25 miles round trip, for us normally a gentle ride, especially with the flat terrain). Had we not had the Garmin, with its ability to notify me that we were off course, we would probably be still wandering around Duisburg's surroundings, trying to find a route home that didn't involve freeways. The routes we picked didn't always end up on the most scenic route, as we discovered, but having a route on the Garmin helped us know where were we and how to get home. We probably spent 20% of our biking time discovering that we were off course and trying to find the right route (sometimes a bike path hidden in the trees that we never noticed, other times going through something -- e.g., a parking lot, a path that seemed to be limited to pedestrians, a bike lane on the wrong side of the road -- that we would never have thought was the intended route).
Luckily, most German bike routes are relatively flat, since with these heavy bikes and their limited gearing, even going up the short hills we did find was hard. This is not made easier by the German habit of putting some kind of barrier either halfway up the hill or at the top just before it flattens off, forcing you to dismount and walk up the rest of the hill. I think the assumption is that you are walking up the hill anyway, what does the barrier matter? Add to that adventures like bike lanes that require you to go over substantial curbs (and not the rounded curbs we have in California, but right angle curbs), cobblestones, lanes that are paved changing to unpaved and back -- biking here is a much different experience than in California.
People of all ages bike in Germany. We saw lots of people I would put in their 70s and possibly 80s biking (I bike with a bunch of retired people weekday mornings in Palo Alto, but I think that the 30-40 people that come at various times to these rides are likely 50% or more of the entire population of the Peninsula over 65 who bike these kinds of distance.) We saw lots of people -- from age 40 to 80 -- toting panniers; true bike touring, where you ride from point A to point B and stay in a hotel each night, is very popular here, in part because there are so many bike routes that you can more or less traverse the entire country by bike (or at least by bike and train). One of the professors at the lab Jay is visiting goes off about once a month, taking the train to some new starting point, biking for two days, and taking the train back home. He is not unusual. We also saw lots of families biking -- kids from about 3 to 15 with mom and dad (not just dad).
These strange bike routes, with dirt roads, curbs and people going both directions sharing a narrow bike path, are not meant for speed, so everyone tootles along at about 10 miles at hour at best. The bike paths, at least during the sunny weather we had this weekend, are crowded. Other than today while we were on the trail during the normal lunch time, we never went more than about 2 minutes without seeing another biker (which reassured us that even if we were not on the right path, we were on a path that went somewhere).
The scenery was lovely (at least during the time I was able to enjoy it and not preoccupied looking for the next hidden turn) -- along the Ruhr river or through rural fields and woodlands. Very different scenery than we have in California.
German bikes all have bells, and they are used pretty frequently, rather than, say, the US convention of saying "on your left" when you pass someone. But people are quite content to move along at whatever speed the bike traffic is going and not even try to pass. And I found that the heavy bikes with their low center of gravity made it much easier to be stable at low speeds, so I didn't feel I was going to wobble into the person in front of me.
At the end of both of our days, we were exhausted when we got home from what we would normally consider an easy day (and one that included a lunch stop at a restaurant, giving us a good hour to rest up). We lolled around all evening and went to bed exceptionally early, falling asleep as our heads hit the pillow. Not having biked for a month is surely part of it, but I think it was easy to underestimate the effort it takes to pedal these heavy bikes. I hope this does serve as some form of conditioning for our bike trip.
The original plan was to bike from Thursday to Sunday. We were surprised to discover there was an official German holiday Thursday -- Ascension Day -- and everyone takes a 4 day weekend, so the lab was empty. By the time we figured it out, Jay had some concalls with the US he couldn't avoid, and it seemed that all the trains and hotels were full. When we say "everyone takes a 4 day weekend", that means everyone. Despite weather predictions that the rain would end Wednesday, it rained all day Thursday, and Friday was a bit too wet to bike comfortably (but we did get a good 6-7 mile hike in).
We rented bikes at a place less than 1km from our guest apartment. They would only rent us "city bikes" -- heavy (maybe 40 or more pounds) very upright bikes, with no cross bar and a fat saddle. Also coaster brakes and a 7 speed shifter. Not quite what we are used to (which are 10 pound bikes with 30 speeds, caliper brakes, drop handlebars, and a racing saddle. ) Some Germans do own "trekking bikes" -- what we would call touring bikes -- but most of what we saw were people on bikes about one step up from what we were pedaling.
The place did not rent helmets, so we biked heads unprotected. This bothered me a lot on both days -- I am so accustomed to riding with a helmet. Most Germans do not wear helmets, as most German bike paths are separated from the traffic (sometimes as part of the sidewalk, with the curb as a barrier, sometimes with another barrier), but there are times when the bikes are adjacent to traffic, as in the US, or that you ride as part of traffic, and there the lack of a helmet bothered me most. The routes we took included such places, and most of the riders we saw on those parts were wearing helmets (these were usually fit young guys who had American style road bikes, spandex clothing and rode like hell), but our route directions didn't warn us that we were going on "helmet advised " parts of the road. Maybe overall 20% of the bike riders we saw wore helmets.
I had brought my new Garmin Edge Touring with a biking map of Europe. We were able to download two 10-12 mile routes that started near us (making it 20-25 miles round trip, for us normally a gentle ride, especially with the flat terrain). Had we not had the Garmin, with its ability to notify me that we were off course, we would probably be still wandering around Duisburg's surroundings, trying to find a route home that didn't involve freeways. The routes we picked didn't always end up on the most scenic route, as we discovered, but having a route on the Garmin helped us know where were we and how to get home. We probably spent 20% of our biking time discovering that we were off course and trying to find the right route (sometimes a bike path hidden in the trees that we never noticed, other times going through something -- e.g., a parking lot, a path that seemed to be limited to pedestrians, a bike lane on the wrong side of the road -- that we would never have thought was the intended route).
Luckily, most German bike routes are relatively flat, since with these heavy bikes and their limited gearing, even going up the short hills we did find was hard. This is not made easier by the German habit of putting some kind of barrier either halfway up the hill or at the top just before it flattens off, forcing you to dismount and walk up the rest of the hill. I think the assumption is that you are walking up the hill anyway, what does the barrier matter? Add to that adventures like bike lanes that require you to go over substantial curbs (and not the rounded curbs we have in California, but right angle curbs), cobblestones, lanes that are paved changing to unpaved and back -- biking here is a much different experience than in California.
People of all ages bike in Germany. We saw lots of people I would put in their 70s and possibly 80s biking (I bike with a bunch of retired people weekday mornings in Palo Alto, but I think that the 30-40 people that come at various times to these rides are likely 50% or more of the entire population of the Peninsula over 65 who bike these kinds of distance.) We saw lots of people -- from age 40 to 80 -- toting panniers; true bike touring, where you ride from point A to point B and stay in a hotel each night, is very popular here, in part because there are so many bike routes that you can more or less traverse the entire country by bike (or at least by bike and train). One of the professors at the lab Jay is visiting goes off about once a month, taking the train to some new starting point, biking for two days, and taking the train back home. He is not unusual. We also saw lots of families biking -- kids from about 3 to 15 with mom and dad (not just dad).
These strange bike routes, with dirt roads, curbs and people going both directions sharing a narrow bike path, are not meant for speed, so everyone tootles along at about 10 miles at hour at best. The bike paths, at least during the sunny weather we had this weekend, are crowded. Other than today while we were on the trail during the normal lunch time, we never went more than about 2 minutes without seeing another biker (which reassured us that even if we were not on the right path, we were on a path that went somewhere).
The scenery was lovely (at least during the time I was able to enjoy it and not preoccupied looking for the next hidden turn) -- along the Ruhr river or through rural fields and woodlands. Very different scenery than we have in California.
German bikes all have bells, and they are used pretty frequently, rather than, say, the US convention of saying "on your left" when you pass someone. But people are quite content to move along at whatever speed the bike traffic is going and not even try to pass. And I found that the heavy bikes with their low center of gravity made it much easier to be stable at low speeds, so I didn't feel I was going to wobble into the person in front of me.
At the end of both of our days, we were exhausted when we got home from what we would normally consider an easy day (and one that included a lunch stop at a restaurant, giving us a good hour to rest up). We lolled around all evening and went to bed exceptionally early, falling asleep as our heads hit the pillow. Not having biked for a month is surely part of it, but I think it was easy to underestimate the effort it takes to pedal these heavy bikes. I hope this does serve as some form of conditioning for our bike trip.
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Bike Tour to Hampton Court
Hampton Court Palace was initially the property of Cardinal Woolsey, but he eventually gave it to Henry VIII, so a lot of history happened there. Later it was expanded by William III (of Orange) and his wife Mary II. It definitely fits the bill of a ¨real¨ English castle, complete with maze and everything else you expect in a castle (no moat, however, unless you count the Thames).
We decided to spend Sunday with a bike tour to Hampton Court. We started at Waterloo station, took a train to Richmond, meandered on antique-looking bikes along the Thames to Hampton, had lunch and spent the next five hours touring the castle and grounds. We then took a train back, exhausted. There was an option to return via a boat along the Thames, which might have been lovely on a warmer and less windy evening. Castles are hard work, for kings', servants, and tourists alike.
Jay in his cute British helmet with our guide John:
The building in the background is part of Richmond Castle (where Elizabeth I is supposed to have died). One of the buildings has the wonderful address of One, Wardrobe, Richmond Castle (that is, the first apartment/condo in the Wardrobe building of Richmond Castle -- I regret not getting a photo of the sign). According to our guide, one of the apartments in the Wardrobe is for sale, if one of my readers wants a really cool address (it probably goes for more than $1M)
We strolled along the Thames, seeing a lot of things you wouldn't see if you came either by train or car. The various manor houses were designed for people to come by boat, so the imposing fronts are toward the river. Now there are pubs at the river edge, though many of them flood regularly. We found one that has a ¨back door¨ several feet higher, to be used when the tide is high.
Here our guide is talking about the houseboats that people live in up and down the river.
After about 8 miles we came to Hampton Court. This was our first view:
Henry definitely was into making a show.
Here is the Castle proper, on the side that existed in Henry VIII's time (William and Mary remodeled about a third of it into a very different style)
Apparently the chimneys, which make it clear that every bedroom has its own fireplace -- individualized heat -- were another symbol of opulence.
After a good lunch (riding those heavy bikes into a wind was hard work, mind you), we got properly lost in the maze (any picture I took would be just of hedges and people. Here's an aerial view by someone with access to resources I don't have):
The grounds ranged from a formal English garden complete with topiary trees, to a ¨Wilderness¨ of somewhat tangled and unkempt undergrowth meant for ¨getting lost in¨, to a kitchen garden trying to reproduce all the food items grown in Henry's time, to a beautiful and beautifully fragrant rose garden (old roses smell so much better than the new ones). We got to see something billed as the oldest grapevine (I assume in England -- the French or Italians must have older ones), covering an arbor about 20 feet long.
Inside were a number of self-guided tours. The tour of the kitchens was far by the best -- the palace regularly served 600 plus the servants, and could serve 1200. We also covered Henry's life with his first wife (they did not live in this castle -- it still belonged to Woolsey at the time), and the state apartments and reign of William of Orange. Oh, and not to forget the chocolate room. Apparently William was enamored of hot chocolate, which they made starting with raw beans. As near as I could tell, this was very similar to modern Mexican hot chocolate, though perhaps without the peppers. The connection was never mentioned, even though the stirrer was called a Molinillo, just like they call it in California.
We also learned that there are apartments here that you can rent, having the run of the grounds after it closes to the public. (There is a ¨real¨ -- meaning indoor -- tennis court and a golf course on the grounds). The minimum stay is three nights though, and I'm not sure you would find that many days of interesting activities.
We wandered to the train station shortly before closing, exhausted, and also glad we aren't of royal blood and expected to wander around in these drafty buildings climbing so many stairs.
FYI, we did this with Mind The Gap Tours, which I would highly recommend.
We decided to spend Sunday with a bike tour to Hampton Court. We started at Waterloo station, took a train to Richmond, meandered on antique-looking bikes along the Thames to Hampton, had lunch and spent the next five hours touring the castle and grounds. We then took a train back, exhausted. There was an option to return via a boat along the Thames, which might have been lovely on a warmer and less windy evening. Castles are hard work, for kings', servants, and tourists alike.
Jay in his cute British helmet with our guide John:
The building in the background is part of Richmond Castle (where Elizabeth I is supposed to have died). One of the buildings has the wonderful address of One, Wardrobe, Richmond Castle (that is, the first apartment/condo in the Wardrobe building of Richmond Castle -- I regret not getting a photo of the sign). According to our guide, one of the apartments in the Wardrobe is for sale, if one of my readers wants a really cool address (it probably goes for more than $1M)
We strolled along the Thames, seeing a lot of things you wouldn't see if you came either by train or car. The various manor houses were designed for people to come by boat, so the imposing fronts are toward the river. Now there are pubs at the river edge, though many of them flood regularly. We found one that has a ¨back door¨ several feet higher, to be used when the tide is high.
Here our guide is talking about the houseboats that people live in up and down the river.
After about 8 miles we came to Hampton Court. This was our first view:
Henry definitely was into making a show.
Here is the Castle proper, on the side that existed in Henry VIII's time (William and Mary remodeled about a third of it into a very different style)
Apparently the chimneys, which make it clear that every bedroom has its own fireplace -- individualized heat -- were another symbol of opulence.
After a good lunch (riding those heavy bikes into a wind was hard work, mind you), we got properly lost in the maze (any picture I took would be just of hedges and people. Here's an aerial view by someone with access to resources I don't have):
The grounds ranged from a formal English garden complete with topiary trees, to a ¨Wilderness¨ of somewhat tangled and unkempt undergrowth meant for ¨getting lost in¨, to a kitchen garden trying to reproduce all the food items grown in Henry's time, to a beautiful and beautifully fragrant rose garden (old roses smell so much better than the new ones). We got to see something billed as the oldest grapevine (I assume in England -- the French or Italians must have older ones), covering an arbor about 20 feet long.
Inside were a number of self-guided tours. The tour of the kitchens was far by the best -- the palace regularly served 600 plus the servants, and could serve 1200. We also covered Henry's life with his first wife (they did not live in this castle -- it still belonged to Woolsey at the time), and the state apartments and reign of William of Orange. Oh, and not to forget the chocolate room. Apparently William was enamored of hot chocolate, which they made starting with raw beans. As near as I could tell, this was very similar to modern Mexican hot chocolate, though perhaps without the peppers. The connection was never mentioned, even though the stirrer was called a Molinillo, just like they call it in California.
We also learned that there are apartments here that you can rent, having the run of the grounds after it closes to the public. (There is a ¨real¨ -- meaning indoor -- tennis court and a golf course on the grounds). The minimum stay is three nights though, and I'm not sure you would find that many days of interesting activities.
We wandered to the train station shortly before closing, exhausted, and also glad we aren't of royal blood and expected to wander around in these drafty buildings climbing so many stairs.
FYI, we did this with Mind The Gap Tours, which I would highly recommend.
London Theatre
The point of going to London was/is theatre. When we couldn't find any interesting shows (we have seen Mathilda, Book of Mormon, Billy Elliot, and even Jersey Boys), we were planning to go elsewhere for our long weekend. But then my friend Evan told us (because someone he knew had been in London recently) about Shakespeare at the National Theatre, and when we were closer to our dates, we found some interesting shows open and available.
The first play was King Lear at the National Theatre. Three. and. one-half. hours. Those folks really got good value for a penny in Shakespeare's time. But really engrossing. It's staged in modern times in a military dictatorship. Could be Vietnam, Congo, Serbia, Syria. The theme is that absolute power corrupts (and destroys) absolutely -- but you knew that. Very well staged. Lear is played by Simon Russell Beale (a well known British actor. You might know him from My Week with Marilyn, or he played King Arthur part of the time in Spamalot, both Broadway and London). He carries the show. Regan is played by Anna Maxwell Martin, who plays the lead (the woman with the two kids) in The Bletchley Circle (well worth following, if you don't already). The other actors may be well known to British audiences, but not to us.
Our star-struck moment came when the person next to us, a season ticket holder, pointed out Penelope Wilton (plays Mrs. Crowley in Downton Abbey) in the audience. She too is a Shakespearean actor.
The stage was nicely done. Relatively austere, but with lots of special effects done with images. King Lear starts with an eclipse (at least in the script), and this is what we saw before the play began.
The second night we went for the opposite end of the spectrum -- a revival of Pajama Game, a 1950s musical, that's about labor vs. management at a Pajama factory in Keokuk, Iowa (we were probably the only people in the audience who knew exactly where Keokuk is). Of course, it's really a multiple couple love story, but the employees' fight for higher wages is the underlying framing. It has songs you might know, but probably don't associate with it: ¨Hernando's Hideaway¨, ¨Steam Heat¨, (while I'm sure this got by the 1950s censors without major problems, it definitely pushed the envelope in the direction of risque lyrics) and ¨Hey There (You with the Stars in your Eyes)¨. The cast was energetic, excellent singing and dancing, and it was a lighthearted evening. It just opened about two weeks ago; the theatre was full, mostly of people who might have seen it during the initial run.
Here is the outside of the theatre:
The stage before 'curtain up':
And the very lovely loges (no, we didn't have seats there):
So we got both serious and light London theatre. Not bad for only four days in town.
The first play was King Lear at the National Theatre. Three. and. one-half. hours. Those folks really got good value for a penny in Shakespeare's time. But really engrossing. It's staged in modern times in a military dictatorship. Could be Vietnam, Congo, Serbia, Syria. The theme is that absolute power corrupts (and destroys) absolutely -- but you knew that. Very well staged. Lear is played by Simon Russell Beale (a well known British actor. You might know him from My Week with Marilyn, or he played King Arthur part of the time in Spamalot, both Broadway and London). He carries the show. Regan is played by Anna Maxwell Martin, who plays the lead (the woman with the two kids) in The Bletchley Circle (well worth following, if you don't already). The other actors may be well known to British audiences, but not to us.
Our star-struck moment came when the person next to us, a season ticket holder, pointed out Penelope Wilton (plays Mrs. Crowley in Downton Abbey) in the audience. She too is a Shakespearean actor.
The stage was nicely done. Relatively austere, but with lots of special effects done with images. King Lear starts with an eclipse (at least in the script), and this is what we saw before the play began.
Ending with:
The second night we went for the opposite end of the spectrum -- a revival of Pajama Game, a 1950s musical, that's about labor vs. management at a Pajama factory in Keokuk, Iowa (we were probably the only people in the audience who knew exactly where Keokuk is). Of course, it's really a multiple couple love story, but the employees' fight for higher wages is the underlying framing. It has songs you might know, but probably don't associate with it: ¨Hernando's Hideaway¨, ¨Steam Heat¨, (while I'm sure this got by the 1950s censors without major problems, it definitely pushed the envelope in the direction of risque lyrics) and ¨Hey There (You with the Stars in your Eyes)¨. The cast was energetic, excellent singing and dancing, and it was a lighthearted evening. It just opened about two weeks ago; the theatre was full, mostly of people who might have seen it during the initial run.
Here is the outside of the theatre:
The stage before 'curtain up':
And the very lovely loges (no, we didn't have seats there):
So we got both serious and light London theatre. Not bad for only four days in town.
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Different smoking cultures
Ahh, I do appreciate California smoking laws. I think there must be a lot more smokers in the UK and Germany, which contributes to the problem. While the indoors of restaurants are all non-smoking, bars are not, and the entire outdoors is a smoking area. That means that the smokers congregate at the exits of everything (university buildings, hotels, restaurants) and also on the outdoor patio of every restaurant at least half the patrons are smoking. I suppose in another 10 years, it will be the kind of restrictions I expect (10 years ago, there were no smoking rules for restaurants, but they were widely ignored. I have to admit to progress.)
Four days in London
Blogging and touristing don't mix. I want to spend my time doing things, not writing about them. But now that I am back in rainy Germany (having left rainy England), I'll catch you all up on what we did. TL;DR version: we saw lots of classic tourist stuff and some plays.
This was my first visit to both the Victoria and Albert Museum and the British Museum. I thought the former was an ¨attic¨ -- a hodgepodge of items (though very nice items) -- until I saw the latter. My word, the Brits were/are collectors, and they got there first and collected the really good stuff. The most intact statues, sarcophagi, etc. I have ever seen. But definitely arranged to give you a sense of quantity as much as quality.
Here is the entrance to the British Museum. Note the hint of sunshine in the background (but also note the wet ground)
From the British Museum, I've captured a picture of a Grecian urn. My friend Jeff and I taught a course in statistics at CHI years ago, where we did some examples involving drawing black and white marbles from an urn to demonstrate probability. We so wanted a real Grecian urn to put our marbles in, since that's what all the classic examples talk about, but we never found one. I found the perfect urn, Jeff. Shall we teach that class again?
I also have to point to this perfectly relevant xkcd cartoon that appeared today.
At the Victoria and Albert, we went to an exhibit on how wedding dresses have changed over the years, starting in 1750ish. It was fascinating. I actually thought that some of the simple gowns of the 18th century (made of muslin) were the most intriguing, but to be fair, they seemed to pick some pretty extreme items for the more modern gowns (see Gwen Stefani's wedding gown below). I highly recommend it if you are in London in the next couple months. Jay went mostly to be a good sport and ended up finding it enjoyable too.
We tried to walk around as much as the weather would cooperate. We wandered through Hyde Park and came across the Queen Elizabeth gate (created to honor Elizabeth II's mother)
We had tea in Kensington Gardens (what a civilized custom, though I don't know how many Brits actually take tea these days).
We also visited the Tate Britain museum, so Jay could see the Turner galleries (he is a big Turner fan) and just ducked into the National Gallery (to get out of the rain) with enough time to see the Turners there and the Impressionists.
And of course, we ate well. We had dinner at Gauthier Soho, a very nice ¨modern French¨ restaurant. FYI, I don't recommend the tasting menu (which we didn't have). It's a lot of food, as the folks at the next table found out. They came before us, and as we left, they thought they had 3 courses to go. The service was impeccable, and the 3 course menu (I had the duck with the foie gras -- mmmm) was just right.
More about the plays we saw and the visit to Hampton Court in later posts
This was my first visit to both the Victoria and Albert Museum and the British Museum. I thought the former was an ¨attic¨ -- a hodgepodge of items (though very nice items) -- until I saw the latter. My word, the Brits were/are collectors, and they got there first and collected the really good stuff. The most intact statues, sarcophagi, etc. I have ever seen. But definitely arranged to give you a sense of quantity as much as quality.
Here is the entrance to the British Museum. Note the hint of sunshine in the background (but also note the wet ground)
From the British Museum, I've captured a picture of a Grecian urn. My friend Jeff and I taught a course in statistics at CHI years ago, where we did some examples involving drawing black and white marbles from an urn to demonstrate probability. We so wanted a real Grecian urn to put our marbles in, since that's what all the classic examples talk about, but we never found one. I found the perfect urn, Jeff. Shall we teach that class again?I also have to point to this perfectly relevant xkcd cartoon that appeared today.
At the Victoria and Albert, we went to an exhibit on how wedding dresses have changed over the years, starting in 1750ish. It was fascinating. I actually thought that some of the simple gowns of the 18th century (made of muslin) were the most intriguing, but to be fair, they seemed to pick some pretty extreme items for the more modern gowns (see Gwen Stefani's wedding gown below). I highly recommend it if you are in London in the next couple months. Jay went mostly to be a good sport and ended up finding it enjoyable too.
We tried to walk around as much as the weather would cooperate. We wandered through Hyde Park and came across the Queen Elizabeth gate (created to honor Elizabeth II's mother)We had tea in Kensington Gardens (what a civilized custom, though I don't know how many Brits actually take tea these days).
We also visited the Tate Britain museum, so Jay could see the Turner galleries (he is a big Turner fan) and just ducked into the National Gallery (to get out of the rain) with enough time to see the Turners there and the Impressionists.
And of course, we ate well. We had dinner at Gauthier Soho, a very nice ¨modern French¨ restaurant. FYI, I don't recommend the tasting menu (which we didn't have). It's a lot of food, as the folks at the next table found out. They came before us, and as we left, they thought they had 3 courses to go. The service was impeccable, and the 3 course menu (I had the duck with the foie gras -- mmmm) was just right.
More about the plays we saw and the visit to Hampton Court in later posts
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Next Stop, London
After a stop back in Duisburg to repack, we are off to London for a long weekend. I will try to take pictures, but don't expect any posts till maybe Tuesday or Wednesday of next week.
Church cross in Oldenburg
These are some of the best pictures I have taken, so I definitely want to share them.
This is inside an old church in Oldenburg. It was pretty nondescript (even ugly) from the outside, so I didn't think to take a picture of it. The inside is from the 18th century, set up to be very light, with a domed ceiling (that you would never suspect from the outside). It also has this rather modern, plexiglass cross that reflects light in amazing ways. I wasn't sure the camera would capture the various colors, but it did very well. Keep in mind that the cross is clear plexiglass.
This is the most impressive one:
This was taken very close in time, but at a different angle, to give you an idea of how different it can look.
Neat, huh?
This is inside an old church in Oldenburg. It was pretty nondescript (even ugly) from the outside, so I didn't think to take a picture of it. The inside is from the 18th century, set up to be very light, with a domed ceiling (that you would never suspect from the outside). It also has this rather modern, plexiglass cross that reflects light in amazing ways. I wasn't sure the camera would capture the various colors, but it did very well. Keep in mind that the cross is clear plexiglass.
This is the most impressive one:
This was taken very close in time, but at a different angle, to give you an idea of how different it can look.
Neat, huh?
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Olderdissen Animal Park
I went a bit farther afield in my hiking today, having enticed Jay to play a bit of hooky, since the weather has been perfect for the last 3 days, we ended up at the local Tierpark. Tierpark, literally Animal Park, could be translated as zoo, but this one is full of animals native to Germany or at least Europe, so it was much more of a collection of common animals, rather than exotic ones.
The park is free to all, and is a surprisingly well maintained collection, so there must be substantial government funding. Their pride and joy are their brown bears -- a male and female pair. You can barely see the female in the back with her head in the little shed/building, while the male prowls around (he was drying off after a swim)
I learned a lot of animal words, using the pictures as guides, but a lot of them I didn't know the name in English.
These are large deer known as Hirsh. The bars mess the picture up, but I thought the antlers were pretty impressive.
And swans always make a good picture (and are easy to identify).
What surprised me the most was the number of Germans who bring their dogs to the park. Can you imagine an American zoo allowing dogs in? This one even had places to tie your dog up while you used the bathroom or went in the restaurant. And these were often big dogs, not just terriers and the like. I didn't see any situations where the dogs disturbed the park animals, but it must happen.
The park is free to all, and is a surprisingly well maintained collection, so there must be substantial government funding. Their pride and joy are their brown bears -- a male and female pair. You can barely see the female in the back with her head in the little shed/building, while the male prowls around (he was drying off after a swim)
I learned a lot of animal words, using the pictures as guides, but a lot of them I didn't know the name in English.
These are large deer known as Hirsh. The bars mess the picture up, but I thought the antlers were pretty impressive.
And swans always make a good picture (and are easy to identify).
What surprised me the most was the number of Germans who bring their dogs to the park. Can you imagine an American zoo allowing dogs in? This one even had places to tie your dog up while you used the bathroom or went in the restaurant. And these were often big dogs, not just terriers and the like. I didn't see any situations where the dogs disturbed the park animals, but it must happen.
Bauernhausmuseum -- old farm house museum
Last week on one of my walking attempts through the Teutoberger Wald, I managed to find the Bauernhausmuseum (on my rain drenched outing, I must have passed about 30 yards from it, but never recognized it). It's a simple set up, of an old farmhouse and outbuildings (some of which have been moved here from other sites), from the mid to late 1800s. It's the sort of farmhouse where the animals lived in the middle of the building and the people had rooms around the edges -- the aromas must have been 'interesting'. The photo above is the farmhouse proper (with a group of visiting school children).
In reading the information plaques, I was struck by how often the phrase ¨sickness, misery, and death¨ was used to describe these people's lives. (sometimes the word pregnancy was added). It certainly was a tenuous life, with crop failures having a really onerous impact, and then they were all driven out by the industrial revolution (for farms in this area, flax was a significant crop, and women made cash money spinning and weaving, which completely dried up with machine weaving). However, the overall tone of ¨there was nothing romantic about this life; aren't you glad you don't live like this¨, I found a bit depressing (the negative parts, like the small spaces they lived in and shared with the animals, seemed pretty obvious). I asked my German friends, and they talked about how they find American museum exhibits to be overly cheerful and optimistic. Another interesting difference between the two cultures.
Lovely detail on the roof of the main farmhouse.
One of several smaller buildings. I think this was a home for a married child.
Weekend in Oldenburg
The professor who is sponsoring Jay here in Bielefeld lives (at least on weekends) with her husband in the town of Oldenburg in Lower Saxony (in contrast to another Oldenburg in Holstein). We have known this couple for almost 30 years, when they spent a year in Palo Alto in something like post-doc positions. So we got to spend a relaxing weekend at their home in Oldenburg.
Oldenburg is essentially reclaimed swamp land; they are maybe 25 miles from the sea, but still at pretty close to sea level, so there is a lot of water all around (lakes, ditches, just soft ground). It makes for a very different outdoor look than we have.
We wandered around the Altstadt (old part of town), in part to see the sights, in part for my friend to do a number of errands. Here are a few things we saw:
The Schloss dates from the late 18th century, when Oldenburg was an independent state ruled by a duke.
The Schloss, of course, has a lake, and here are a pair of mandarin ducks (imported from China). There was clearly a mating game going on, but I didn't have my camera set to video to capture it.
One of the many fancy houses built at the time of the duke.
Our most important errand -- finding Kuchen for our afternoon pickmeup. I think we bought one of everything on display. I liked the Apfelkuchen (bottom right front) best, but Jay was quite enamoured of the lemon thing (Zitronen-Quark-Torte) on the lower back right. I'm not sure what the custom of regularly having rich, sweet cakes for an afternoon snack does for the Germans, but I'm not opposed to it.
And here I am having my perfume 'style' analyzed and having the perfect perfume selected for me at a shop with hundreds of options. We came in for my friend to get some shampoo, but one thing led to another.
The main pastimes for the weekend were going for walks where I got to see the local greenbelt (from their house you could walk/run probably 30 miles in a loop around the area) and practicing my German. Here is a view of the first. It's a true moor, complete with peat, heather (that's the main plant you see in the picture below), and blueberry bushes (I don't know if they are traditional in moors, but they are ubiquitous here -- I suspect they could sate even my blueberry cravings). Any plant you see below that isn't heather or a tree -- that's a blueberry bush.
There are carefully maintained paths, sometimes with stones or wood to enable you to get over the marshy ground, but the rest of the area is too boggy to walk in. I wasn't out early enough to see the deer, but I'm told they are numerous at dawn or dusk. We heard a cuckoo, many magpies and lots of birds I couldn't identify. Very different from the paths I hike on normally.
The German lessons were great. Whenever Jay wasn't around, my hosts were conscientious about speaking only German to me. I still get exhausted trying to figure out how to say anything longer than ¨may I have some more cake?¨, but I was able to carry on reasonable conversations, with maybe one word every two or three rounds that I couldn't dredge up or talk around. We talked about farming (when we passed some farms -- I now know several German words for manure); the plants we saw -- there Google translate was a big help, as my friends seldom knew the English word for the plant; cultural differences in eating and exercise; and Playmobil toys. By the end of the weekend, I was definitely more fluent.
Not that I really needed to wind down (though Jay certainly did, as did my hosts, who both have jobs that overwork them), but the weekend was superbly relaxing in any case, other than when I was trying to find the German way to express myself. Here's to more weekends with friends and Apfelkuchen.
Oldenburg is essentially reclaimed swamp land; they are maybe 25 miles from the sea, but still at pretty close to sea level, so there is a lot of water all around (lakes, ditches, just soft ground). It makes for a very different outdoor look than we have.
We wandered around the Altstadt (old part of town), in part to see the sights, in part for my friend to do a number of errands. Here are a few things we saw:
The Schloss dates from the late 18th century, when Oldenburg was an independent state ruled by a duke.
The Schloss, of course, has a lake, and here are a pair of mandarin ducks (imported from China). There was clearly a mating game going on, but I didn't have my camera set to video to capture it.
One of the many fancy houses built at the time of the duke.
Our most important errand -- finding Kuchen for our afternoon pickmeup. I think we bought one of everything on display. I liked the Apfelkuchen (bottom right front) best, but Jay was quite enamoured of the lemon thing (Zitronen-Quark-Torte) on the lower back right. I'm not sure what the custom of regularly having rich, sweet cakes for an afternoon snack does for the Germans, but I'm not opposed to it.
And here I am having my perfume 'style' analyzed and having the perfect perfume selected for me at a shop with hundreds of options. We came in for my friend to get some shampoo, but one thing led to another.
The main pastimes for the weekend were going for walks where I got to see the local greenbelt (from their house you could walk/run probably 30 miles in a loop around the area) and practicing my German. Here is a view of the first. It's a true moor, complete with peat, heather (that's the main plant you see in the picture below), and blueberry bushes (I don't know if they are traditional in moors, but they are ubiquitous here -- I suspect they could sate even my blueberry cravings). Any plant you see below that isn't heather or a tree -- that's a blueberry bush.
There are carefully maintained paths, sometimes with stones or wood to enable you to get over the marshy ground, but the rest of the area is too boggy to walk in. I wasn't out early enough to see the deer, but I'm told they are numerous at dawn or dusk. We heard a cuckoo, many magpies and lots of birds I couldn't identify. Very different from the paths I hike on normally.
The German lessons were great. Whenever Jay wasn't around, my hosts were conscientious about speaking only German to me. I still get exhausted trying to figure out how to say anything longer than ¨may I have some more cake?¨, but I was able to carry on reasonable conversations, with maybe one word every two or three rounds that I couldn't dredge up or talk around. We talked about farming (when we passed some farms -- I now know several German words for manure); the plants we saw -- there Google translate was a big help, as my friends seldom knew the English word for the plant; cultural differences in eating and exercise; and Playmobil toys. By the end of the weekend, I was definitely more fluent.
Not that I really needed to wind down (though Jay certainly did, as did my hosts, who both have jobs that overwork them), but the weekend was superbly relaxing in any case, other than when I was trying to find the German way to express myself. Here's to more weekends with friends and Apfelkuchen.
The strawberry house
It's strawberry season here. The strawberries are better than what I get at home in California, but it might be that I am comparing supermarket strawberries to these ¨small vendor¨ strawberries. Here is the strawberry house about 100 yards from my apartment:
These show up in parking lots by the side of the road, on just about every side road I have travelled on so far. This is at the beginning of the hiking trails near me. There is also a ¨Spargel Haus¨ (for asparagus -- exclusively white asparagus, which the Germans love and which does nothing for me) at most of these sites, but it wasn't interesting/cute enough to photograph. I notice more people buying strawberries than asparagus, so maybe Germans agree with me.
Friday, May 16, 2014
Laundry, German style
Who knew that doing laundry could be a full time career? That's how I am starting to feel about doing laundry in Germany. It was a minor challenge last time, in part because I didn't know what most of the words on the washer and dryer meant, but I'm beyond that now, and its getting worse. Here is my saga so far
Laundry, Attempt 1
Our apartment complex in Duisburg has a washer and dryer, which are a challenge to use in the way Americans use laundry facilities, but after a month of doing laundry last spring, I had mostly figured them out. When I came to do laundry at the end of the first week, the washer was broken. Obviously, a laundromat was required. Luckily, they do have such things in university towns (though Google Maps, given the English word laundromat in Germany, didn't distinguish between laundromats and laundry services, so that took a bit to resolve. )
The nearest laundromat was about 1km away, and the only thing I could find to carry our laundry was a big cardboard box (it later occurred to me that a rolling suitcase would have been more pleasant). I had bought and brought detergent, but it turned out to be included in the price (who knew to expect this?). The washing machine was a reasonable size (twice as big as the one in our complex), and the controls were all understandable. But how do I pay? No evidence of a coin slot anywhere.
Luckily, this place had an attendant. There was a big light board around the corner from the machines, where I was expected to put in money, apply it to a particular machine, get soap dispensed, and then press start on the washing machine itself. All fairly straightforward, but not very clear to someone who couldn't even find the board. (And while I was able to translate the word ¨electronic board¨ on the instructions, I had no idea what such a thing would look like). The wash cycle only took 45 minutes, rather than the hour and a half of our apartment washer. And the dryer worked reasonably close to the way American dryers do, even drying the clothes fully (which German dryers seldom do). The attendant convinced me to use the cotton setting, even for my delicate stuff, and she was right -- as I should have remembered, Germans do not believe that clothes should be dried at a very warm heat, which is why they take forever to dry.
All's well that end's well; 3 hours plus an hour travelling time lost to the effort (but I enjoyed my reading), but we ended with clean, dry clothes (and I did not get rained on during the trip back, miraculously).
Laundry, Attempt 2
We are now in Bielefeld. First, finding where the laundry facilities are was a challenge (it was in the basement, hiding behind a door that said ¨Networking Equipment¨). The washer and dryer are small units such as we have in Duisburg. I filled the washer, and this time, I understood all the settings, except that when I got done with the setup, it told me (there was an lcd display): ¨Zahlen¨ (Pay). Huh? No hint of a place to put coins. This control board again turned out to be on the wall, this time disguised as a fuse panel. It took weird amounts (1.70 Euro to wash), but didn't give change. Washing was not so bad (it told me how long the cycle would take), but it was impossible to know how long it would take to dry things. It turns out that when I opened the dryer to check while it was drying, it ended the cycle and captured the money left. This was particularly weird, because if it found the filter full (German filters hold very little lint before they clog), or it considered the laundry to be dry, I could restart the machine and use the remaining money. So the only cost-effective solution was to put the money in 20 minutes at a time. For a grand total of almost six hours in or near the laundry room.
Each load took over two hours to dry and that is using the term ¨dry¨ very loosely. German dryers have the concept of ¨Schranktrocken¨ (cupboard dry, which is wetter than any setting I have found on an American dryer. If you put clothes into the cupboard out of the dryer that way, they would mold) and ¨Extratrocken¨ (extra dry, which I would call damp dry -- which is another setting altogether.) So of course our apartment was full of drying clothes for the rest of the day.
Who would have thought that the most challenging cultural novelty would be laundry? And what further laundry adventures lie ahead?
Who would have thought that the most challenging cultural novelty would be laundry? And what further laundry adventures lie ahead?
Rain, rain, go away
I've come from dry (and apparently now hot) California, to wet, cold northern Germany. Usually, the rain showers are just a drizzle, so my semi-waterproof parka and hood, with an umbrella sometimes, are enough to brave the outdoors in comfort. But this week, I learned it can really pour in Germany.
It was another dreary day, cloudy in the morning, but intermittent showers predicted for afternoon. I wanted to get out for a hike. One of Jay's colleagues had told me of a good starting place for some hikes over the ¨mountains¨ of Bielefeld (this is part of the Teutoberger Wald, and the mountains are similar to the Santa Cruz mountains of the Bay Area -- just good sized foothills.) He said there was a map on a signboard that would introduce me to all the marked trails in the area, but it turned out to be just an ¨ad¨ for Nordic Walking (walking with poles) with markers for 3 trails (many more markings were painted on the trees, but I've yet to figure out where those trails go and how far). I decided to take the 5.5km trail, just to get a sense of the area. Lovely trees, wildflowers, many more birds in song than I am used to; the trails were excellently maintained and gravelled, so they were not muddy from the previous two weeks of rain.
I was about at the far point of the route when it started to rain. (The trail, it turns out, has had its little metal markers appropriated at critical junction points, so I lost the trail and had to refind it several times). No big deal. It was just a drizzle, as forecast, and the trees shielded me from at least half of it. And based on the previous several days, I expected it to let up in 10 minutes (perhaps restarting again in 20). Of course, this was the time it decided to rain seriously, both significantly harder than a drizzle and for a long time. I was wearing a parka that is somewhat rain protective and real hiking boots, so I was still doing OK in the trees. But I took another wrong turn (missed a sign, most likely), and I found myself on city streets with no protection. After a few more missteps, I got headed in the right direction, but it took about 45 minutes to get back to the apartment. It rained for that full hour. Drenched pants, drenched shoes, drenched socks, but the parka held (It was pretty wet, but I wasn't wet under it).
I clearly have no skills in reading the clouds in this part of the world (and the weather forecast outright lied to me). As the culmination of eight days of dreary weather, it was the pits. On an absolute scale, it was not so terrible, but for someone who has become a total Californian, I spent a miserable afternoon, both outside and after I got back to the apartment.
The weather seems to have broken. Sun (with a few clouds) today, and only a couple glimpses of rain predicted for the next week. It's still cold -- the highs here are about what the lows in Palo Alto seem to be. There really is a distinct season between winter and summer in the rest of the world, who knew?
It was another dreary day, cloudy in the morning, but intermittent showers predicted for afternoon. I wanted to get out for a hike. One of Jay's colleagues had told me of a good starting place for some hikes over the ¨mountains¨ of Bielefeld (this is part of the Teutoberger Wald, and the mountains are similar to the Santa Cruz mountains of the Bay Area -- just good sized foothills.) He said there was a map on a signboard that would introduce me to all the marked trails in the area, but it turned out to be just an ¨ad¨ for Nordic Walking (walking with poles) with markers for 3 trails (many more markings were painted on the trees, but I've yet to figure out where those trails go and how far). I decided to take the 5.5km trail, just to get a sense of the area. Lovely trees, wildflowers, many more birds in song than I am used to; the trails were excellently maintained and gravelled, so they were not muddy from the previous two weeks of rain.
I was about at the far point of the route when it started to rain. (The trail, it turns out, has had its little metal markers appropriated at critical junction points, so I lost the trail and had to refind it several times). No big deal. It was just a drizzle, as forecast, and the trees shielded me from at least half of it. And based on the previous several days, I expected it to let up in 10 minutes (perhaps restarting again in 20). Of course, this was the time it decided to rain seriously, both significantly harder than a drizzle and for a long time. I was wearing a parka that is somewhat rain protective and real hiking boots, so I was still doing OK in the trees. But I took another wrong turn (missed a sign, most likely), and I found myself on city streets with no protection. After a few more missteps, I got headed in the right direction, but it took about 45 minutes to get back to the apartment. It rained for that full hour. Drenched pants, drenched shoes, drenched socks, but the parka held (It was pretty wet, but I wasn't wet under it).
I clearly have no skills in reading the clouds in this part of the world (and the weather forecast outright lied to me). As the culmination of eight days of dreary weather, it was the pits. On an absolute scale, it was not so terrible, but for someone who has become a total Californian, I spent a miserable afternoon, both outside and after I got back to the apartment.
The weather seems to have broken. Sun (with a few clouds) today, and only a couple glimpses of rain predicted for the next week. It's still cold -- the highs here are about what the lows in Palo Alto seem to be. There really is a distinct season between winter and summer in the rest of the world, who knew?
Back in Germany again
We are now back in Germany, this time for almost 7 weeks. And we have been here for 10 days already, so if you are expecting daily posts, perhaps it's time to reset your expectations. To justify my procrastination, it takes a lot of time to get settled in a new location, and we are in our second location, packing for the third one.
While we have an apartment to store our stuff between trips (in the same International Guesthouse in Duiburg as last time), we are all over the map. On this trip we visit Duisburg, Bielefeld, Oldenburg, London, Heidelberg, Bamberg, Paris and Brittany/Normandy (for a bike vacation). Just arranging tickets is a half time vocation, and then finding a grocery store, figuring out where and how to do laundry (more on that later), figuring how how to use the kitchen (or where to eat out), etc takes up a lot of time.
My German is much better than the last trip. I've been using duolingo to work on vocabulary and grammar (I recommend it; it has its quirks, but I learned a lot from it), but didn't have real opportunities to carry on conversations in German. I'm sure I sound like either a hick from the sticks or someone mentally slow, but I can make myself understood -- I even had one conversation on politics that went ok.
This time I have figured out how to upload pictures to my chromebook, so there will be photos -- I just have to remember to take some first.
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