Thursday found me driving across the gentle hills to Dinkelsbühl, a walled city similar to Rothenburg. I had been there once or twice before but found I did not remember the city well. I parked near a moat on the other side of which was a tower and the city wall. I crossed a bridge over the protective moat and wandered the cobbled streets, shopping and taking pictures for an hour and a half, before heading back home. Once reaching Rothenburg I drove down in the Tauber valley and took some pictures of the city from below and of a tall, skinny house with windows made of round, thick glass panes.
I located a grocery store in Rothenburg and picked up some basic supplies. My landlady tells me that there is a bigger store near the bahnhof, train station, so I will have to check it out before long.
I am happy to say there is a large-sized clothing store in town and the lady who owns it is friendly, helpful, and speaks some English. Much of her stock is not really my taste, however I did find a black shirt with little sparkles at the neckline for which I paid $100. It is a tad snug so should fit for quite some time and the quality is very good so it won´t lose its shape or wear out. I also located a shop with jeans from sizes teeny tiny to much larger. The lady at this shop was also very helpful and I found a cute pair of jeans with sparkles and metal rivets shaped like flowers for me to shrink into. The price of 35 eruo was significantly cheaper than the 128 euro I found in Italy. When I returned home I held my new jeans up to the old ones and found the waist band the same size, however I cannot fasten the new jeans. It was then I realized that the new jeans are low rise and will fasten about 1 1/2 inches below the old ones....right where my "rise" is the biggest. It will be a time of celebration when I can wear my new jeans comfortably!
Rothenburg is not a large city, however it is larger than Cortona, with quite a few more shops, however since I lived in Germany for such a long time I am finding that I already purchased many of the things I liked, so am not so tempted to shop. A good thing for my wallet. I did buy a silver ring with an oval amethyst in it to wear on my middle finger and some postcards to send to friends and family.
There is a music school near my house and walking home one night I heard singing, so sat on a bench under the window to listen. They were singing I Will Follow Him, from the movie Sister Act and were doing a fair job of it until the soprano soloist started in. She was just ghastly and I am pretty sure she hit a few notes never previously undiscovered. Unfortunately, the teacher had the soloist yodel her part time and again, and I had to fight the urge to paw my ears and howl. I finally decided that I´d heard enough yowling for the evening and walked to the back of the music school toward my apartment only to bear witness to a trio of flatulent tubas squelching out a noise better made in private. Such entertainment!
Monday, July 7, 2008
Crailsheim
Early Wedneday morning, I took a stroll to locate a bakery where I purchased and attempted to consume an extremely dry, crumbly, tasteless, baked stick of dough. I think I will not be partaking of that particular goody again anytime in the future. I stopped by a fruit and vegetable stand in the marktplatz and purchased some fresh strawberries, sun-warmed and sweet smelling. They were wonderfully juicy and made up for the terrible pastry.
I departed Rothenburg, traveling across gently rolling green hills and through tiny hamlets to the town of Crailsheim, where Tim and I were stationed with the U.S. Army from 1988-1993, and where our son, Jordan, was born in 1990. Jordan was born at the Kreiskrankenhaus in downtown Crailsheim and will be 18 on July 18th when his option to be a German citizen will end. My time in Germany was really a pivotal time in my life. I was a newlywed when I arrived, my first child was born there, and my abiding passion for Europe was ignited.
Driving through Crailsheim, I was surprised to see more shops and stores than I remembered, but the McDonald´s, which had opened shortly before we left, was still going strong and had been remodeled. As I traveled toward our old military base things began to look unfamilair, until I spotted a landmark, Möbel Bohn (Bean Furniture). In front of our military quarters, in what had been an empty field, was a new shopping center and huge grocery store. I could just glimpse our old base housng through the buildings and had to circle around to locate the entrance.
Upon entering our housing area, I noticed how the trees have grown and matured, casting welcome shade over the street. The new residents are now allowed to landscape the green space between each apartment building, a strict no-no during my tenure. When the base was preparing to close in 1993 it was rumored that the housing was to be turned over to refugees from the former East Block countries. I don't actually know if that's what happened but I hope that a place I'd loved so much was used to help others build new lives. The buildings have been repainted cheerful colors with geometric desings in contrasting tones. I could see that the large window in the living/dining area had been altered to make room for a door leading onto a newly added balcony.
I walked across the road to where the military installation had actually been and all of the old buildings are gone. A new gymnasium stands where the commissary and guard shack had been and behind it empty, overgrown fields. It made me a bit melancholy. I remember walking those streets, past the barracks, to pick up mail every day or to visit the bank or Post Exchange (PX). All of it now gone. I took pictures to share with Tim and Jordan. Every one should know the place where their lives began.
I drove back downtown, parked the car, and visited a church that, somehow, Tim and I never found time to visit. I also located the hospital, still in operation, where my sweet baby was born. I had to take a picture there too. Maybe more for me than for Jordan. He has no memory of these places, however a piece of my heart still lives on there. I think a piece of Tim's does too. My memory is like a little time warp, allowing me to see fragments of the past as it was, not as it is now, and it made me cry a bit. It has been an emotional week for me.
I departed Rothenburg, traveling across gently rolling green hills and through tiny hamlets to the town of Crailsheim, where Tim and I were stationed with the U.S. Army from 1988-1993, and where our son, Jordan, was born in 1990. Jordan was born at the Kreiskrankenhaus in downtown Crailsheim and will be 18 on July 18th when his option to be a German citizen will end. My time in Germany was really a pivotal time in my life. I was a newlywed when I arrived, my first child was born there, and my abiding passion for Europe was ignited.
Driving through Crailsheim, I was surprised to see more shops and stores than I remembered, but the McDonald´s, which had opened shortly before we left, was still going strong and had been remodeled. As I traveled toward our old military base things began to look unfamilair, until I spotted a landmark, Möbel Bohn (Bean Furniture). In front of our military quarters, in what had been an empty field, was a new shopping center and huge grocery store. I could just glimpse our old base housng through the buildings and had to circle around to locate the entrance.
Upon entering our housing area, I noticed how the trees have grown and matured, casting welcome shade over the street. The new residents are now allowed to landscape the green space between each apartment building, a strict no-no during my tenure. When the base was preparing to close in 1993 it was rumored that the housing was to be turned over to refugees from the former East Block countries. I don't actually know if that's what happened but I hope that a place I'd loved so much was used to help others build new lives. The buildings have been repainted cheerful colors with geometric desings in contrasting tones. I could see that the large window in the living/dining area had been altered to make room for a door leading onto a newly added balcony.
I walked across the road to where the military installation had actually been and all of the old buildings are gone. A new gymnasium stands where the commissary and guard shack had been and behind it empty, overgrown fields. It made me a bit melancholy. I remember walking those streets, past the barracks, to pick up mail every day or to visit the bank or Post Exchange (PX). All of it now gone. I took pictures to share with Tim and Jordan. Every one should know the place where their lives began.
I drove back downtown, parked the car, and visited a church that, somehow, Tim and I never found time to visit. I also located the hospital, still in operation, where my sweet baby was born. I had to take a picture there too. Maybe more for me than for Jordan. He has no memory of these places, however a piece of my heart still lives on there. I think a piece of Tim's does too. My memory is like a little time warp, allowing me to see fragments of the past as it was, not as it is now, and it made me cry a bit. It has been an emotional week for me.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Saturday, July 5, 2008
A Second Beginning
Awaking before my alarm, I got dressed, finished packing, and walked into town for a last look. The village was just beginning to stir and I could hear the street sweeper making his morning rounds. Claudio was already serving people lined up at the caffe´, and many delivery trucks and vans were parked hapahyardly on both piazzas making their morning deliveries. I took a few last precious pictures of Cortona, my home away from home, before Maria and Laura drove me to the train station at 8:00. There were maybe 20 people waiting for the train with me and Laura felt sure one of the men would help me get my suitcase aboard the train. As it turns out, the men took one look at my big suitcase and fought each other to get on the train leaving me to wrestle the monster suitcase alone. A kind lady gave me a hand though, and since I could not find a place to put the luggage, I parked it in the corner of the train car which worked out fine. The train trip was uneventful and I gazed out the window listeing to my MP3 and crying a bit now and then. I am so happy that I have had this opportunity, but sad to leave people who were so kind and generous to me.
Upon pulling into the station in Florence, I dragged my 400 pound suitcase to the "left luggage" office where I checked it in for a few moments in order to search out a new pair of walking shoes. I trotted across the street to the Bata store, which was nearly deserted at 10:00 AM, and tried on a pair of running shoes, which turned out to be a good fit. I wore them out of the store leaving my old pair with the young saleswoman and loped back to te train station to pick up my suitcase which I then dragged to the other side of the station and down a flight of stairs. I wove my way across the street and around the corner to the bus station station where I lugged all my bags onto the airport shuttle exactly one minute before departure! I sat in a high seat at the front of the bus which gave me a wodnerful view of Florence as we left. Unfortunately, I also hd to keep one leg on the suitcase which had a tendency to tip into the aisle on sharp corners.
At the airport, the customs agent did not want to stamp my tax free forms as she said I am supposed to do it when I depart Europe for good. I explained I was going onto other countries and would not be leaving for months and she kindly agreed to go ahead and stamp them so I could get my 50 euro refund. I checked my bag in with Lufthansa and was informed it was overweight by about 2 kilos (4.5 pounds), but the agent politely agreed not to charge me an overweight fee. How lucky I was! I poked around the airport, had something to drink and ate a sandwich (mozzarella and prosciutto) before clearing security and making my way to the gate. Eventually, the assembled group of travelers was herded onto a couple of buses and driven to the tiny aircraft which ultimately departed nearly an hour late.
The plane was the same hip-squeezing model I´d taken to Florence. I am happy to report that, while the fit was tight and the seatbelt short, I was able to buckle it and not be in agony this time! I was still a bit weepy on the plane. Sometimes goodbyes are very hard for me and there is usually a time of melancholy while I adapt to a new situation. A pretty flight attendant passed out snacks of a cheese sandwich, an apple, and a candy bar. Good thing I accepted it as it turned out to be my last food of the day. The plane landed without incident and we were packed back into buses for what seemed like a 12 mile ride to the terminal. The luggage was delayed 45 minutes while they sorted it out and ferried it in from Cleveland, er...from the plane. I needed to use a restroom something terrible, however the baggage claim area had some sort of temporary facilities, and the women´s and handicapped toilets had overflowed creating a terrible mess and smell. In due course the suitcase arrived unharmed and I began a 6 mile hike to the car rental counter, then to the garage to find my car. I was given a royal blue Fiat Punto, the same car I´d had in Italy! Driving an Italian-made car alleviated just a tiny bit of my homesickness.
The drive to Rothenburg, the small town where I will be living for the next 2 months, took quite some time due to several traffic jams, known as "stau" in German. Once I reached Rothenburg and entered the town through one of the tower gates, I was unable to locate my apartment. Frustratingly, I could not match my printed directions with the layout of the town. What´s worse, in keeping with the quaintness of this ancient town, the street signs are printed in some kind of indecipherable calligraphy. Rothenburg us also full fo "einbahnstrassen", one-way streets, so I found myself circling the same few blocks over and over while I tried desperately to read the street signs. I took to waving cheerfully as I passed diners sitting at the outside tables of two restaurants watching me as I circled the block for the 17th time. Eventually, I parked the car and headed off on foot. My normally good sense of direction reasserted itself and I located my new home quickly. It was by now 8:45 PM and my landlords were waiting worriedly for me. They are very, very nice and my landlady, Frau Froehlich, walked back to the parkplatz with me to retrieve the vehicle and allowed me to park it in their gated driveway.
My little apartment is on the second floor and I spent some time unpacking and "nesting" as women like to do. Th St. Jakobs Kirche (church) is one block away and I have a lovely view of its spires from my living/sleeping room window. I also have a bathtub....what luxury! I am going to like it here!
Upon pulling into the station in Florence, I dragged my 400 pound suitcase to the "left luggage" office where I checked it in for a few moments in order to search out a new pair of walking shoes. I trotted across the street to the Bata store, which was nearly deserted at 10:00 AM, and tried on a pair of running shoes, which turned out to be a good fit. I wore them out of the store leaving my old pair with the young saleswoman and loped back to te train station to pick up my suitcase which I then dragged to the other side of the station and down a flight of stairs. I wove my way across the street and around the corner to the bus station station where I lugged all my bags onto the airport shuttle exactly one minute before departure! I sat in a high seat at the front of the bus which gave me a wodnerful view of Florence as we left. Unfortunately, I also hd to keep one leg on the suitcase which had a tendency to tip into the aisle on sharp corners.
At the airport, the customs agent did not want to stamp my tax free forms as she said I am supposed to do it when I depart Europe for good. I explained I was going onto other countries and would not be leaving for months and she kindly agreed to go ahead and stamp them so I could get my 50 euro refund. I checked my bag in with Lufthansa and was informed it was overweight by about 2 kilos (4.5 pounds), but the agent politely agreed not to charge me an overweight fee. How lucky I was! I poked around the airport, had something to drink and ate a sandwich (mozzarella and prosciutto) before clearing security and making my way to the gate. Eventually, the assembled group of travelers was herded onto a couple of buses and driven to the tiny aircraft which ultimately departed nearly an hour late.
The plane was the same hip-squeezing model I´d taken to Florence. I am happy to report that, while the fit was tight and the seatbelt short, I was able to buckle it and not be in agony this time! I was still a bit weepy on the plane. Sometimes goodbyes are very hard for me and there is usually a time of melancholy while I adapt to a new situation. A pretty flight attendant passed out snacks of a cheese sandwich, an apple, and a candy bar. Good thing I accepted it as it turned out to be my last food of the day. The plane landed without incident and we were packed back into buses for what seemed like a 12 mile ride to the terminal. The luggage was delayed 45 minutes while they sorted it out and ferried it in from Cleveland, er...from the plane. I needed to use a restroom something terrible, however the baggage claim area had some sort of temporary facilities, and the women´s and handicapped toilets had overflowed creating a terrible mess and smell. In due course the suitcase arrived unharmed and I began a 6 mile hike to the car rental counter, then to the garage to find my car. I was given a royal blue Fiat Punto, the same car I´d had in Italy! Driving an Italian-made car alleviated just a tiny bit of my homesickness.
The drive to Rothenburg, the small town where I will be living for the next 2 months, took quite some time due to several traffic jams, known as "stau" in German. Once I reached Rothenburg and entered the town through one of the tower gates, I was unable to locate my apartment. Frustratingly, I could not match my printed directions with the layout of the town. What´s worse, in keeping with the quaintness of this ancient town, the street signs are printed in some kind of indecipherable calligraphy. Rothenburg us also full fo "einbahnstrassen", one-way streets, so I found myself circling the same few blocks over and over while I tried desperately to read the street signs. I took to waving cheerfully as I passed diners sitting at the outside tables of two restaurants watching me as I circled the block for the 17th time. Eventually, I parked the car and headed off on foot. My normally good sense of direction reasserted itself and I located my new home quickly. It was by now 8:45 PM and my landlords were waiting worriedly for me. They are very, very nice and my landlady, Frau Froehlich, walked back to the parkplatz with me to retrieve the vehicle and allowed me to park it in their gated driveway.
My little apartment is on the second floor and I spent some time unpacking and "nesting" as women like to do. Th St. Jakobs Kirche (church) is one block away and I have a lovely view of its spires from my living/sleeping room window. I also have a bathtub....what luxury! I am going to like it here!
Friday, July 4, 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
.JPG)
.JPG)
