1. Venice, Burano, Salzburg, Munich, Fuessen slideshow: 16 minutes long. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2wCgtEm0vuk
2. Fuessen, Konstanz, Zurich, Paris Slideshow: 16 minutes long. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MQJtoB7UOOM&feature=plcp
3. Paris Slideshow: 6 minutes long. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ek5VeBQaITg&feature=youtu.be
4. Europe 2012,Video: 14 minutes long. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qAqGojNOoy0&feature=youtu.be
Showing posts with label Fuessen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fuessen. Show all posts
Monday, June 18, 2012
Monday, June 11, 2012
Spring 2012-Europe, Part 1 of 4
Whew, yet another trip (no, I am not complaining, especially because I planned this trip from scratch and now I feel like a real travel pro) and thank God all went well and we are back in one piece because so many things could have gone wrong!
The Preparation
Part 1
I began researching and planning for this 13-day mid-May trip only in the second week of March. I had to learn so much about the best way to travel in Europe by train. But all those hectic hours I spent planning and coordinating the MYRIAD parts involved in such travel paid off. Now, I can write a whole book!
The trip involved flying from New York to Venice, Italy, and flying out of Paris, France. In between is where I wanted to travel by train. During my research phase, I came across terms like EurailPass, TGV, SNCF, Inter-Rail Pass, etc. This made my head spin. One thing that became clear from all this spinning was, I had to fairly quickly decide what I wanted to do, because, during peak season, which begins in May (later I discovered that admission rates at various places of interest went up on May 1), train seats and choice hotel rooms go too fast. Even as I tried to understand the implications and wisdom of obtaining a rail pass, I also had to decide which places I wanted to visit. After much contemplation, research, serendipity and signals from my gut, I chose Innsbruck, Austria, Munich, Germany, southern Bavaria a.k.a. God’s own country, and Zurich and of course our pre-determined book ends Venice and Paris, the raison d’etre for this trip. Ultimately, Innsbruck was dropped, as the train timings seemed inconvenient.
I worked under a terrible time constraint, so a word of caution to the wise: Be very diligent about the places you want to visit so you can buy the right kind of EurailPass in terms of number of countries and number of days of travel. Based on our hurriedly yet diligently compiled itinerary, we bought a five country, five-day pass from the Germany-based Raildude.com, whose owner Peter Freisberg is a very friendly and knowledgeable guy.
It is impossible to work out every single step but draw up as detailed an itinerary as possible. For instance, once I reached Munich, I was able to add Salszburg to my itinerary almost spontaneously, but couldn’t do the same with respect to add Strasbourgh, France, though I would have spent no more than 3-6 R/T euros per person for a first class ticket and it would have made for a nice one-day trip from Paris. The weekend we were in Paris was a long weekend in France as well and so no last minute reservation was possible. Ever train in every single direction was booked solid. In a way, this turned out to be a blessing, because there were places in Paris we were able to cover, including a leisurely stroll along Champs-Elysees from the Louvre on the “extra” day.
Part 2:
Booking your hotel/apartment:
Some of it was good planning based on experience, some of it was pure luck, but we ended up booking excellent accommodations: In Venice, on the canal, and close to the Vaparetto stop Arsenale and within walking distance to St. Mark’s Square. In Munich, a stone’s throw from the main train station, in Konstanz, Germany, after diligent research, also close to the main train station, in Paris, a nice www.waytostay.com apartment in Montmartre with a view of the Sacre Couer from our living room. Working backwards, this was the first accommodation that I booked. I had a feeling, Paris needed a minimum of four days. We got into Paris on the 23rd night and left on the 28th. I had thought that I’d be getting into Paris on the 24th morning, as my itinerary had not been “fine-tuned” at that point. When I booked my Paris stay, not all places I’d visit were in place yet on my itinerary. Originally, I had paid close attention to only the main grid of my travel. But once my final itinerary was in place, it turned out that I had to get into Paris the previous night, and this forced me to book a hostel room, which I did promptly at Le Montclair right across, by design, from my four-night stay apartment. It was a fun experience, though initially, I wasn’t sure if we would get enough sleep given the noise level at the hostel, which died down by 1 a.m. and we were too beat anyway. Next morning, after a nice free breakfast at the hostel, all I had to do was roll my luggage (we traveled light which meant just two carry on’s and a small back pack each) across the street to my Waytostay.com apartment on the 6th floor of 25, Rue Hermel.
Part 2
What luggage to carry and what to pack: Though, at this point, I myself could be selling luggage because of how many suitcases and carryons we have accumulated in our attic over the years, I still had to get new luggage because of the utmost portability convenience I wanted in my luggage. In April, we got ourselves two carryons that also had back straps. The straps came in real handy when we had to change trains four times between Fuessen, Germany and Konstanz, Germany on the border of Switzerland within three-six minutes at each station. Each change included going down 25-30 steps and climbing back up the same number. Here is an anecdote (from the get go I was nervous about the strip between Fuessen and Konstanz) fit for a movie script, possibly:
Fuessen, east of the Bodensee (Lake Constance: http://www.nationsonline.org/oneworld/map/google_map_Bodensee.htm) and 90miles from Konstanz our destination on the 22nd bordering Switzerland, as has been reported by so many people who have visited Fuessen, was stunning and the weather couldn't have been more perfect. On the 22nd, once we got to the ticket center for the castle visits in Fuessen, we bought our tickets for the Neushwanstein Castle 11:25 English tour, and since we had time, we decided to make the steep climb to the castle. The journey took your breath away in more than one sense. Flaunting my hand-made Burano lace umbrella I had bought in Burano on the 18th, I made it to the top. The charming guide at the castle spoke very good English and the tour was not rushed in any way.
All went well and we took the 14:06 as planned after having lunch at restaurant across from the bus stop and buying a cute, genuine Black Forest handmade cuckoo clock at the lodging’s store.
On my train schedule, the short intervals I noticed between train changes on different platforms made me nervous. At Kaufbeuren we had only 3 minutes. The train from Fuessen pulled in a bit late. Still we made it to our train bound for Lindau. The train stopped at Immenstadt and when it left I noticed that the car in front of ours was missing. I wondered why, and so I asked an elderly couple in our car, who spoke no English, if the train was going to Lindau. They said no and tried explaining something in German. Anyway, cutting to the chase, we got off at the next stop, took a train back to Immenstadt, waited for about 90 minutes, took the next train to Lindau. Then changed at Friedrichshafen for Radolfzell (I couldn't even pronounce these names right). Divinely beautiful as this journey was, the train got stuck in between and this meant we would miss the connection for Konstanz at Radolfzell. I decided to pray. It paid off. We reached beautiful Konstanz at 8:05 as opposed to 6:16. At Immenstadt in our hurry, and not knowing the same train would split up and going in two different directions, we got into the wrong car.
Well, we live and learn!
Then changed at Friedrichshafen for Radolfzell (I couldn't even pronounce these names right). Divinely beautiful as this journey was, the train got stuck in between and this meant we would miss the connection for Konstanz at Radolfzell. I decided to pray. It paid off. We reached beautiful Konstanz at 8:05 as opposed to 6:16 had we not sat in the wrong car. At Immenstadt in our hurry, and not knowing the same train would split up and go in two different directions, we got into the wrong car and not understanding German instructions from the driver, we ended up not changing cars.
In Konstanz, I discovered conveyor belts for carryons alongside the staircase. How 'bout that?
We could have quite easily cut the journey short had we taken a ferry across the lake, but our primary goal was to experience the lake from the train. Boy, it was some experience!
As for things that went much more smoothly:
On May 16, we flew Delta out of JFK to Venice. The journey was comfy, the flight attendants were courteous and we got our vegetarian meals (Asian seems to be the best choice) per our request. From Marco Polo Airport in Venice, around 11:30a.m., we took a bus to Piazzale Roma and from here No.1 vaparetto to the Arsenale stop a two-minute walk to our B&B Casa Faveretto booked via www.Venere.com. Our view was partially blocked by the software company Oracle’s ship that was moored before our guest house. The America’s Cup World Series was on from May 15-20 and Oracle was a sponsor. I was unhappy about the partial blocking of my view.
The combo bus-vaparetto ticket was 10 euros a piece to be used (validated) within the next 90 minutes. The postcard-like, sweeping panoramic view of the variegated buildings, the once-upon-a-time-but-now abandoned homes now converted to hotels or museums or government offices, of rich 16th century Venetian merchants on the S-shaped Grand Canal is breathtaking and magical. It was a fairly long, delightful, many stops ride since our stop was almost at the end of the line.
By now, being experienced travelers, we covered quite a bit quite promptly on the very day we landed in Venice. Before leaving New York, I had bought a ticket (free with a two euros service charge for two) to enter St. Mark’s Basilica in Venice so we could avoid long lines. Our designated time was 3:25 but we were early and were able to enter early. Again, the basilica too was a breath taking and a neck straining experience. Here is a link to St. Mark’s Square: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piazza_San_Marco. After the Basilica, we covered the square itself taking pictures of the human-pigeon interaction, waited on line for about half hour to go up to the top of the Bell Tower, befriended a nice young couple (seemed like they were just friends traveling together) from England—she was black and he white—and it was wonderful to be able to communicate in English and not in any made up sign language, and then, after buying our tickets, went up to the top by an elevator. The 360 degree view of Venice from the top was spectacular though the Grand Canal itself was nowhere to be seen! The huge bell above head in the Bell Tower was truly humongous.
Our next stop was the Doge Palace (Palazzo Ducale) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doge's_Palace,_Venice. I was recovering from jet lag, so sitting up on the bench in the Great Hall I took a power nap. Visited the famous prison and the Bridge of Sighs as well.
On the 18th, we bought a 12-hour pass to visit Burano and ended the day with a trip on the Grand Canal. We skipped the “run-down” Murano as I am not a fan of watching glass works being made and nor were we going to buy anything to carry back with us. I already had a cute Murano glass pendant sold to me by a savvy New Yorker, a former principal at a school, who had a jewelry sale at a friend’s place in my town selling some of her own collection from her extensive travel and some purportedly designed by her. Moreover, I had heard so much about Burano, I simply could not resist visiting this fishing village and as a tourist one has to choose. On the boat, we met a garrulous New Zealander who has been traveling for about six months now. She reminded me of someone I know but I just could not figure out who. She was from Corpus Christie and the 2011 earthquake seems to have reminded people to live each day to its fullest. Her revenge was travel. In fact, we had met a couple at dinner the previous night who also were from New Zealand.
The heavy-set, garrulous woman talked about her brother who went to Princeton and is now the chief Economist in New Zealand. She also talked about New Zealand’s participation in America’s Cup. An hour or so later, we ran into her on the handkerchief-sized Burano near a tiny bridge across a tiny canal from where a vegetable vendor was selling produce not particularly inviting, as they were neither very fresh nor laid out well, at exorbitant prices (8 eruos for a kilo of cherries, which interestingly looked luscious and deep red) from his wobbly little colorful boat, and exchanged pleasantries.
Lined with modest colorful homes (they belong to local fishermen and they are colored because they can be easily identified at night by the returning fishermen), narrow canals, miniature bridges, and lots of restaurants, a few delis and souvenir shops galore, Burano is like a recreated village. My shopping included a square tapestry of St. Mark’s Square and a cute, hand-made beige lace umbrella that really came in handy on that bright sunny day. When I returned home in New York, I realized that the tapestry my sister had brought for me from her European tour in 2010 was also that of St. Mark’s Square but it also covered the frolicking tourists from the past in gondolas. My plan was to hang my new tapestry next to this but now I am not sure about my plans for it.
On our way back, we stopped by at Lido, yet another beautiful island gem in the Lagoon and which is where the Venice Film Festival takes place. Because of the American Cup, which was in full swing by now, there were no boats from Lido to Venice beyond the eastern tip till the evening. We took the 5:30 boat and made it back to Venice, and ultimately, to our home base Casa Faveretto. After getting dressed we went out for dinner, which turned out to be not a pleasant experience because of poor quality service and “prejudices” by the Bangla Deshi owner against Indians. Regardless of what passport one holds, or how long one has been away from one’s native country or how different your ways may be from the native country’s inhabitants of 40 years ago, one never knows how one is going to be perceived.
Next day, our final day in Venice, we walked from the north eastern tip of Costello Sestieri (district) to the north western tip of Sestieri where the train station St. Lucia was, covering several spots of interest along the way like the Jewish Quarters in Cannaregio, a few former palaces, numerous little gulleys and finally, had a simple but delectable panini lunch near the Rialto Bridge which we crossed once again later from San Polo Sistieri: http://0.tqn.com/d/goitaly/1/0/b/B/-/-/venice-sestieri-map.png. Apparently, all of Venice is just the size of New York City’s Central Park. That night, enjoying the cool breeze, we took the vaperetto to St. Lucia and dined near the station under a clear sky sitting on a bench along the Grand Canal. Our train run by Deutsche Bahn bound for Munich left nearly 20 minutes late!
Ciao!
The Preparation
Part 1
I began researching and planning for this 13-day mid-May trip only in the second week of March. I had to learn so much about the best way to travel in Europe by train. But all those hectic hours I spent planning and coordinating the MYRIAD parts involved in such travel paid off. Now, I can write a whole book!
The trip involved flying from New York to Venice, Italy, and flying out of Paris, France. In between is where I wanted to travel by train. During my research phase, I came across terms like EurailPass, TGV, SNCF, Inter-Rail Pass, etc. This made my head spin. One thing that became clear from all this spinning was, I had to fairly quickly decide what I wanted to do, because, during peak season, which begins in May (later I discovered that admission rates at various places of interest went up on May 1), train seats and choice hotel rooms go too fast. Even as I tried to understand the implications and wisdom of obtaining a rail pass, I also had to decide which places I wanted to visit. After much contemplation, research, serendipity and signals from my gut, I chose Innsbruck, Austria, Munich, Germany, southern Bavaria a.k.a. God’s own country, and Zurich and of course our pre-determined book ends Venice and Paris, the raison d’etre for this trip. Ultimately, Innsbruck was dropped, as the train timings seemed inconvenient.
I worked under a terrible time constraint, so a word of caution to the wise: Be very diligent about the places you want to visit so you can buy the right kind of EurailPass in terms of number of countries and number of days of travel. Based on our hurriedly yet diligently compiled itinerary, we bought a five country, five-day pass from the Germany-based Raildude.com, whose owner Peter Freisberg is a very friendly and knowledgeable guy.
It is impossible to work out every single step but draw up as detailed an itinerary as possible. For instance, once I reached Munich, I was able to add Salszburg to my itinerary almost spontaneously, but couldn’t do the same with respect to add Strasbourgh, France, though I would have spent no more than 3-6 R/T euros per person for a first class ticket and it would have made for a nice one-day trip from Paris. The weekend we were in Paris was a long weekend in France as well and so no last minute reservation was possible. Ever train in every single direction was booked solid. In a way, this turned out to be a blessing, because there were places in Paris we were able to cover, including a leisurely stroll along Champs-Elysees from the Louvre on the “extra” day.
Part 2:
Booking your hotel/apartment:
Some of it was good planning based on experience, some of it was pure luck, but we ended up booking excellent accommodations: In Venice, on the canal, and close to the Vaparetto stop Arsenale and within walking distance to St. Mark’s Square. In Munich, a stone’s throw from the main train station, in Konstanz, Germany, after diligent research, also close to the main train station, in Paris, a nice www.waytostay.com apartment in Montmartre with a view of the Sacre Couer from our living room. Working backwards, this was the first accommodation that I booked. I had a feeling, Paris needed a minimum of four days. We got into Paris on the 23rd night and left on the 28th. I had thought that I’d be getting into Paris on the 24th morning, as my itinerary had not been “fine-tuned” at that point. When I booked my Paris stay, not all places I’d visit were in place yet on my itinerary. Originally, I had paid close attention to only the main grid of my travel. But once my final itinerary was in place, it turned out that I had to get into Paris the previous night, and this forced me to book a hostel room, which I did promptly at Le Montclair right across, by design, from my four-night stay apartment. It was a fun experience, though initially, I wasn’t sure if we would get enough sleep given the noise level at the hostel, which died down by 1 a.m. and we were too beat anyway. Next morning, after a nice free breakfast at the hostel, all I had to do was roll my luggage (we traveled light which meant just two carry on’s and a small back pack each) across the street to my Waytostay.com apartment on the 6th floor of 25, Rue Hermel.
Part 2
What luggage to carry and what to pack: Though, at this point, I myself could be selling luggage because of how many suitcases and carryons we have accumulated in our attic over the years, I still had to get new luggage because of the utmost portability convenience I wanted in my luggage. In April, we got ourselves two carryons that also had back straps. The straps came in real handy when we had to change trains four times between Fuessen, Germany and Konstanz, Germany on the border of Switzerland within three-six minutes at each station. Each change included going down 25-30 steps and climbing back up the same number. Here is an anecdote (from the get go I was nervous about the strip between Fuessen and Konstanz) fit for a movie script, possibly:
Fuessen, east of the Bodensee (Lake Constance: http://www.nationsonline.org/oneworld/map/google_map_Bodensee.htm) and 90miles from Konstanz our destination on the 22nd bordering Switzerland, as has been reported by so many people who have visited Fuessen, was stunning and the weather couldn't have been more perfect. On the 22nd, once we got to the ticket center for the castle visits in Fuessen, we bought our tickets for the Neushwanstein Castle 11:25 English tour, and since we had time, we decided to make the steep climb to the castle. The journey took your breath away in more than one sense. Flaunting my hand-made Burano lace umbrella I had bought in Burano on the 18th, I made it to the top. The charming guide at the castle spoke very good English and the tour was not rushed in any way.
All went well and we took the 14:06 as planned after having lunch at restaurant across from the bus stop and buying a cute, genuine Black Forest handmade cuckoo clock at the lodging’s store.
On my train schedule, the short intervals I noticed between train changes on different platforms made me nervous. At Kaufbeuren we had only 3 minutes. The train from Fuessen pulled in a bit late. Still we made it to our train bound for Lindau. The train stopped at Immenstadt and when it left I noticed that the car in front of ours was missing. I wondered why, and so I asked an elderly couple in our car, who spoke no English, if the train was going to Lindau. They said no and tried explaining something in German. Anyway, cutting to the chase, we got off at the next stop, took a train back to Immenstadt, waited for about 90 minutes, took the next train to Lindau. Then changed at Friedrichshafen for Radolfzell (I couldn't even pronounce these names right). Divinely beautiful as this journey was, the train got stuck in between and this meant we would miss the connection for Konstanz at Radolfzell. I decided to pray. It paid off. We reached beautiful Konstanz at 8:05 as opposed to 6:16. At Immenstadt in our hurry, and not knowing the same train would split up and going in two different directions, we got into the wrong car.
Well, we live and learn!
Then changed at Friedrichshafen for Radolfzell (I couldn't even pronounce these names right). Divinely beautiful as this journey was, the train got stuck in between and this meant we would miss the connection for Konstanz at Radolfzell. I decided to pray. It paid off. We reached beautiful Konstanz at 8:05 as opposed to 6:16 had we not sat in the wrong car. At Immenstadt in our hurry, and not knowing the same train would split up and go in two different directions, we got into the wrong car and not understanding German instructions from the driver, we ended up not changing cars.
In Konstanz, I discovered conveyor belts for carryons alongside the staircase. How 'bout that?
We could have quite easily cut the journey short had we taken a ferry across the lake, but our primary goal was to experience the lake from the train. Boy, it was some experience!
As for things that went much more smoothly:
On May 16, we flew Delta out of JFK to Venice. The journey was comfy, the flight attendants were courteous and we got our vegetarian meals (Asian seems to be the best choice) per our request. From Marco Polo Airport in Venice, around 11:30a.m., we took a bus to Piazzale Roma and from here No.1 vaparetto to the Arsenale stop a two-minute walk to our B&B Casa Faveretto booked via www.Venere.com. Our view was partially blocked by the software company Oracle’s ship that was moored before our guest house. The America’s Cup World Series was on from May 15-20 and Oracle was a sponsor. I was unhappy about the partial blocking of my view.
The combo bus-vaparetto ticket was 10 euros a piece to be used (validated) within the next 90 minutes. The postcard-like, sweeping panoramic view of the variegated buildings, the once-upon-a-time-but-now abandoned homes now converted to hotels or museums or government offices, of rich 16th century Venetian merchants on the S-shaped Grand Canal is breathtaking and magical. It was a fairly long, delightful, many stops ride since our stop was almost at the end of the line.
By now, being experienced travelers, we covered quite a bit quite promptly on the very day we landed in Venice. Before leaving New York, I had bought a ticket (free with a two euros service charge for two) to enter St. Mark’s Basilica in Venice so we could avoid long lines. Our designated time was 3:25 but we were early and were able to enter early. Again, the basilica too was a breath taking and a neck straining experience. Here is a link to St. Mark’s Square: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piazza_San_Marco. After the Basilica, we covered the square itself taking pictures of the human-pigeon interaction, waited on line for about half hour to go up to the top of the Bell Tower, befriended a nice young couple (seemed like they were just friends traveling together) from England—she was black and he white—and it was wonderful to be able to communicate in English and not in any made up sign language, and then, after buying our tickets, went up to the top by an elevator. The 360 degree view of Venice from the top was spectacular though the Grand Canal itself was nowhere to be seen! The huge bell above head in the Bell Tower was truly humongous.
Our next stop was the Doge Palace (Palazzo Ducale) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doge's_Palace,_Venice. I was recovering from jet lag, so sitting up on the bench in the Great Hall I took a power nap. Visited the famous prison and the Bridge of Sighs as well.
On the 18th, we bought a 12-hour pass to visit Burano and ended the day with a trip on the Grand Canal. We skipped the “run-down” Murano as I am not a fan of watching glass works being made and nor were we going to buy anything to carry back with us. I already had a cute Murano glass pendant sold to me by a savvy New Yorker, a former principal at a school, who had a jewelry sale at a friend’s place in my town selling some of her own collection from her extensive travel and some purportedly designed by her. Moreover, I had heard so much about Burano, I simply could not resist visiting this fishing village and as a tourist one has to choose. On the boat, we met a garrulous New Zealander who has been traveling for about six months now. She reminded me of someone I know but I just could not figure out who. She was from Corpus Christie and the 2011 earthquake seems to have reminded people to live each day to its fullest. Her revenge was travel. In fact, we had met a couple at dinner the previous night who also were from New Zealand.
The heavy-set, garrulous woman talked about her brother who went to Princeton and is now the chief Economist in New Zealand. She also talked about New Zealand’s participation in America’s Cup. An hour or so later, we ran into her on the handkerchief-sized Burano near a tiny bridge across a tiny canal from where a vegetable vendor was selling produce not particularly inviting, as they were neither very fresh nor laid out well, at exorbitant prices (8 eruos for a kilo of cherries, which interestingly looked luscious and deep red) from his wobbly little colorful boat, and exchanged pleasantries.
Lined with modest colorful homes (they belong to local fishermen and they are colored because they can be easily identified at night by the returning fishermen), narrow canals, miniature bridges, and lots of restaurants, a few delis and souvenir shops galore, Burano is like a recreated village. My shopping included a square tapestry of St. Mark’s Square and a cute, hand-made beige lace umbrella that really came in handy on that bright sunny day. When I returned home in New York, I realized that the tapestry my sister had brought for me from her European tour in 2010 was also that of St. Mark’s Square but it also covered the frolicking tourists from the past in gondolas. My plan was to hang my new tapestry next to this but now I am not sure about my plans for it.
On our way back, we stopped by at Lido, yet another beautiful island gem in the Lagoon and which is where the Venice Film Festival takes place. Because of the American Cup, which was in full swing by now, there were no boats from Lido to Venice beyond the eastern tip till the evening. We took the 5:30 boat and made it back to Venice, and ultimately, to our home base Casa Faveretto. After getting dressed we went out for dinner, which turned out to be not a pleasant experience because of poor quality service and “prejudices” by the Bangla Deshi owner against Indians. Regardless of what passport one holds, or how long one has been away from one’s native country or how different your ways may be from the native country’s inhabitants of 40 years ago, one never knows how one is going to be perceived.
Next day, our final day in Venice, we walked from the north eastern tip of Costello Sestieri (district) to the north western tip of Sestieri where the train station St. Lucia was, covering several spots of interest along the way like the Jewish Quarters in Cannaregio, a few former palaces, numerous little gulleys and finally, had a simple but delectable panini lunch near the Rialto Bridge which we crossed once again later from San Polo Sistieri: http://0.tqn.com/d/goitaly/1/0/b/B/-/-/venice-sestieri-map.png. Apparently, all of Venice is just the size of New York City’s Central Park. That night, enjoying the cool breeze, we took the vaperetto to St. Lucia and dined near the station under a clear sky sitting on a bench along the Grand Canal. Our train run by Deutsche Bahn bound for Munich left nearly 20 minutes late!
Ciao!
Friday, June 8, 2012
Spring 2012 Europe, Part 2 of 4
Spring 2012—Europe
May 20-22, Munich.
When we got out of the train that arrived on time at 6:30 a.m. in Munchen, we were literally blown away by the amount of trash and debris on the platform and all over the station and outside. We just couldn’t figure out but quickly B guessed right that there was a soccer match the previous night between Chelsea, England and Munich though he didn’t know who had won. Later that evening at the English Garden while chugging down some welcome beer, a German who was at our table informed us Munich had lost. He was sad. He had traveled about 7 hours from Hamburg to attend the game the tickets for which he had won in a lottery that had a million entrants and only a thousand winners.
Soon after we left our luggage at our hotel, we decided to travel to Salzburg, Austria. Had the train not been late, we would have missed the train, whose timing we discovered only after getting to the station. It was a lovely journey though through several industrial towns and once we got to Salzburg, we went to the tourist office, and bought two hop on hop off bus tickets. The guided tour was beautiful and we crossed the river Salzache a couple of times and after spending a few minutes at the Mirabel Gardens attached to the Mirabel Castle, and listening to some great music in the garden, shooting a few photos of the garden and the environs and the small arboretum, we returned to the bus and the very friendly female driver. After surveying our map, we decided to get off at sop number 5 and walk around as there was a cluster of buildings in this area, which included the 8th century Salzburg Cathedral (http://www.kamml.com/en-salzburg_cathedral.shtml). The narrow, glitzy and winding streets sporting many high-end shops and small delis turned out to be relaxing experience. The highlight of this most attractive and most visited shopping street in Salzburg, named Getreidegasse (http://www.kamml.com/en-getreidegasse_salzburg.shtml), was visiting Mozart’s birthplace Mozart's Geburtshaus (http://www.kamml.com/en-mozart_birthplace_salzburg.shtml) that is a museum now. After a quick dash through this sanctified place, we ate some lunch, a panini and soda ands chips. The English-speaking attendant at the deli obliged to my request to him to use a fresh pair of gloves to handle my panini. Without my asking, he even used a fresh knife and served the two halves accompanied by a broad smile.
As we sat at a bench and ate our meal, numerous well-groomed, high-bred, dogs--several identical to each other in a pack of even six or more-- were sashaying down the street their owners sporting a proud smile. Later at the hotel in Munich, when we inquired about this, we were told that a three-day Annual World Dog Show was in progress in Salzburg. What a treat this unorganized parade was for us!
Next, we headed for Mozart Square dominated by a Mozart statue and a fountain and we were in for another treat, a band consisting of mostly young men sporting shorts in suspenders over their short sleeve shirts playing lively music. After about 90minutes,we returned to our bus stop and covering more spots, including a quick stop across from the von Trapp family of the Sound of Music movie fame. We caught an earlier fast speed train back to Munich and were back at our hotel by 4:30.
After freshening up, we walked through Old Town covering churches, closed shops in Marineplatz, the new Town Hall, Odeonsplatz, and reached the English Gardens via the Residenz. The famous Hofbrauhaus on the way was too noisy for us.
After that long walk, it was heavenly to wash down pieces of a huge pretzel with some chilled beer, which we almost missed out on as the refreshments kiosk was just closing. The setting was idyllic and under the open blue sky in the balcony of the Chinese Pagoda (Chinesischer Turm), a band played some great hits. Behind me, a group of Indians was making a hell of a racket. I heard some Hindi songs, and I joined them and tried belting out some oldies in my drunken state forgetting a lot of the lyrics. It turned out, Ms. Desai was trained in classical music and so no wonder her singing too sounded trained. The three youngsters (two gals and a guy) in the group were college students and the middle-aged woman was the mother of one. Bala was lost in conversation with our German friend from Hamburg talking about the previous night’s game that Munich lost, the economy, Angela Merkel (the German didn’t like her domestic policy but liked the impression she was making on world stage), EU, and German health care system where everyone was covered. The German didn’t like the word socialist applied earlier by Bala to Germany’s public policy. Earlier, one thing the German and I both had agreed on was that individuals must take more responsibility on their own for their health.
After B & I returned to our neighborhood, we went looking for food. It was quite late, so we picked up a falafel and a wrap and diet coke and returned to our room, turned on the nightly news and ate in. We learned that early that morning, there had been a pretty damaging 6.0 earthquake in Bologna, 81 miles southwest of Venice, killing several people including a 106 year-old in her bed. Quite beat from the day’s activities, we went to sleep on a lumpy mattress.
Next day bright and early after a nice sit-down breakfast, we went back to the station to inquire about travel to Fuessen the next morning. The stern-looking woman at the DB counter handed us a printout in German. Our later disaster between Fuessen and Konstanz might have been avoided had the text been in English. Ah, who knows why things go wrong?
Next, we headed to the Tourist Office outside the station which promptly opened at 9:00 a.m. Here, we learned how to get to Nymphenburg Palace (Schloss Nymphenburg) by tram, bought a day pass and soon hopped on the tram across from the Office. It was nice ride and the schloss was well worth a visit: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nymphenburg_Palace. This is where “Mad King” Ludwig II was born whose Neuschwanstein Castle was the reason for our visit to Fuessen (I think I should compose a song about Fuessen!) Much as we decry monarchy, but for them, who else could exemplify excess and opulence? They were the standard bearers for excessive indulgence worth emulating by others in all generations who wished/thought they were royalty, which in some ways, they probably are!
From the palace we went to Olympia Park the 1972 Summer Olympics site by tram and subway and it was yet another treat. Here, we took in the lovely setting, took photographs, remembered the 1972 kidnapping of the Israeli athletes with sadness, visited the swimming pools, had lunch and before boarding the train back, visited the BMW Museum.
On our return trip, we got off at the Odeaonplatz (I fell in love with this spot; its Feldherrnhalle: http://www.aviewoncities.com/munich/feldherrnhalle.htm reminded me so much of the mandapams in south Indian temples): http://www.aviewoncities.com/munich/odeonsplatz.htm (we were in this square the previous evening on our way to the English Garden) stop near the Residenz Palace, which seemed closed, and then we searched for the famous Viktualienmarkt: http://www.aviewoncities.com/munich/viktualienmarkt.htm, wandered around the market checking the price of various things, returned to Marienplatz, had coffee and a black forest cake at a cafe here, and then positioned ourselves for the two Glockenspiel’sfiuve’s o’clock presentations--enactment of the 1568 wedding of Duke William V and Renate of Lorraine, complete with a jousting match and a rendition of a dance called the Schäfferltanz, first performed to mark the end of the plague in 1517. We returned to our room, freshened up and went to Rama Restaurant http://www.toytowngermany.com/munich/rama.html, which we had spotted accidentally on our way to Nymphenburg that morning and had a sumptuous Indian dinner. There was just one other guest besides us—the owner of Joto Abrasives, Nasik, India. We struck up a conversation and when he left he said hat he was happy to have met a sister.
We roamed around a bit on the tram, took in the long Maxmillianstrasse lined with upscale shops, glimpsed at River Isar, and then returned to our room around 10:30 p.m..
Next morning, as planned, we took the to 8:03 train to Fuessen. Once we got to Fuessen, I felt that we should have got into Fuessen the previous night. Fuessen was so quaint and so beautiful! “Mad King” Ludwig II was not mad after all.
After our wonderful trip to Fuessen, the minor incident that took place as described before, led to a happy encounter with Daniella who also was traveling to Lindau and who also was in the wrong car like us.
Soon after our train left the “famous” Immenstadt, a lithesome youngish woman with a lean face flustered burst into our compartment and asked if the train was going to Lindau. At that point, we had not yet realized our mistake, so we said, yes. She left our compartment and we didn’t know where she went. Later, the moment we realized we had a mistake and I ran into the next compartment to look for the conductor, I saw Daniella siting there. I informed her that we were in the wrong car. A few quick exchanges with the other passengers in broken German (Daniella) and broken English (the German passengers, although one Hispanic looking woman spoke better English—most non-whites in Europe spoke good English!) made us realize that we should get off at the next station which surprisingly came within the next few minutes. At the station was a friendly looking young man whose name was Allah! Yes, go figure. He was an Iraqi who had worked with the Americans in Iraq and finally chose to make Germany his home...at least for now. In his limited English, he communicated that he’d take us back to Immenstadt, which is where he lived, and put us on the next train to Lindau. What a relief this was! He even tried helping me with my luggage which help I politely declined.
Soon after we bid goodbye to Allah in Immenstadt, we went over to the Deutsche Bahn (DB) Office to make sure we had the right train information. Once again, the stiff uniformed assistant, when I explained to him our mistake and how the train from Faussen to Kaufbeuren was late thus “forcing” us to make the mistake we made, and how the DB agent in Munich had given us a schedule in German, from his printer, he whipped out a new schedule from Immenstadt to Kontanz in English.
At the station, Daniella and I became the best of friends. I don’t know why we connected so instantly. We were like two schoolgirls on an expedition. Daniella’s infectious spirit was the reason behind this I think. With no common language between us, still, we managed to communicate so much. When hearts meet, no formal language seems necessary. I learned that she had been trained in ballet for 20 years. She was from Transylvania, Romania. Just with hand gestures and an extremely expressive face, she “explained” that people in Transylvania were very nice but not so in Bucharest. She taught sign language to deaf-and-mute children in Valencia, Spain and in summer was going to Africa with a doctor to, pro bono, help children there. I was so touched.
She was also breaking up with her alcoholic boyfriend. We decided that we’d teach each other some English and Spanish. We’d point to the various pieces of our luggage and name them in the two languages. She pointed to a pigeon and said Pilomita and repeated it. Then I wondered aloud to her if Picasso’s daughter’s name Pilomina was derived from Pilomita. Indeed, I could imagine Picasso calling his daughter, his little dove. We both burst out laughing. I took her e-mail address and we promised to continue the lessons by e-mail. Soon the train arrived. After about ninety minutes, we all got off at Lindau and we hugged each other and bid goodbye and B and I dashed off to our connecting train to Friederichshafen.
Anyway, all is well that ends well, and we eventually, reached Konstanz at 8:05 p.m. without any more incidents, and still there was plenty of daylight left. I knew we were in for another treat
Ciao!
May 20-22, Munich.
When we got out of the train that arrived on time at 6:30 a.m. in Munchen, we were literally blown away by the amount of trash and debris on the platform and all over the station and outside. We just couldn’t figure out but quickly B guessed right that there was a soccer match the previous night between Chelsea, England and Munich though he didn’t know who had won. Later that evening at the English Garden while chugging down some welcome beer, a German who was at our table informed us Munich had lost. He was sad. He had traveled about 7 hours from Hamburg to attend the game the tickets for which he had won in a lottery that had a million entrants and only a thousand winners.
Soon after we left our luggage at our hotel, we decided to travel to Salzburg, Austria. Had the train not been late, we would have missed the train, whose timing we discovered only after getting to the station. It was a lovely journey though through several industrial towns and once we got to Salzburg, we went to the tourist office, and bought two hop on hop off bus tickets. The guided tour was beautiful and we crossed the river Salzache a couple of times and after spending a few minutes at the Mirabel Gardens attached to the Mirabel Castle, and listening to some great music in the garden, shooting a few photos of the garden and the environs and the small arboretum, we returned to the bus and the very friendly female driver. After surveying our map, we decided to get off at sop number 5 and walk around as there was a cluster of buildings in this area, which included the 8th century Salzburg Cathedral (http://www.kamml.com/en-salzburg_cathedral.shtml). The narrow, glitzy and winding streets sporting many high-end shops and small delis turned out to be relaxing experience. The highlight of this most attractive and most visited shopping street in Salzburg, named Getreidegasse (http://www.kamml.com/en-getreidegasse_salzburg.shtml), was visiting Mozart’s birthplace Mozart's Geburtshaus (http://www.kamml.com/en-mozart_birthplace_salzburg.shtml) that is a museum now. After a quick dash through this sanctified place, we ate some lunch, a panini and soda ands chips. The English-speaking attendant at the deli obliged to my request to him to use a fresh pair of gloves to handle my panini. Without my asking, he even used a fresh knife and served the two halves accompanied by a broad smile.
As we sat at a bench and ate our meal, numerous well-groomed, high-bred, dogs--several identical to each other in a pack of even six or more-- were sashaying down the street their owners sporting a proud smile. Later at the hotel in Munich, when we inquired about this, we were told that a three-day Annual World Dog Show was in progress in Salzburg. What a treat this unorganized parade was for us!
Next, we headed for Mozart Square dominated by a Mozart statue and a fountain and we were in for another treat, a band consisting of mostly young men sporting shorts in suspenders over their short sleeve shirts playing lively music. After about 90minutes,we returned to our bus stop and covering more spots, including a quick stop across from the von Trapp family of the Sound of Music movie fame. We caught an earlier fast speed train back to Munich and were back at our hotel by 4:30.
After freshening up, we walked through Old Town covering churches, closed shops in Marineplatz, the new Town Hall, Odeonsplatz, and reached the English Gardens via the Residenz. The famous Hofbrauhaus on the way was too noisy for us.
After that long walk, it was heavenly to wash down pieces of a huge pretzel with some chilled beer, which we almost missed out on as the refreshments kiosk was just closing. The setting was idyllic and under the open blue sky in the balcony of the Chinese Pagoda (Chinesischer Turm), a band played some great hits. Behind me, a group of Indians was making a hell of a racket. I heard some Hindi songs, and I joined them and tried belting out some oldies in my drunken state forgetting a lot of the lyrics. It turned out, Ms. Desai was trained in classical music and so no wonder her singing too sounded trained. The three youngsters (two gals and a guy) in the group were college students and the middle-aged woman was the mother of one. Bala was lost in conversation with our German friend from Hamburg talking about the previous night’s game that Munich lost, the economy, Angela Merkel (the German didn’t like her domestic policy but liked the impression she was making on world stage), EU, and German health care system where everyone was covered. The German didn’t like the word socialist applied earlier by Bala to Germany’s public policy. Earlier, one thing the German and I both had agreed on was that individuals must take more responsibility on their own for their health.
After B & I returned to our neighborhood, we went looking for food. It was quite late, so we picked up a falafel and a wrap and diet coke and returned to our room, turned on the nightly news and ate in. We learned that early that morning, there had been a pretty damaging 6.0 earthquake in Bologna, 81 miles southwest of Venice, killing several people including a 106 year-old in her bed. Quite beat from the day’s activities, we went to sleep on a lumpy mattress.
Next day bright and early after a nice sit-down breakfast, we went back to the station to inquire about travel to Fuessen the next morning. The stern-looking woman at the DB counter handed us a printout in German. Our later disaster between Fuessen and Konstanz might have been avoided had the text been in English. Ah, who knows why things go wrong?
Next, we headed to the Tourist Office outside the station which promptly opened at 9:00 a.m. Here, we learned how to get to Nymphenburg Palace (Schloss Nymphenburg) by tram, bought a day pass and soon hopped on the tram across from the Office. It was nice ride and the schloss was well worth a visit: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nymphenburg_Palace. This is where “Mad King” Ludwig II was born whose Neuschwanstein Castle was the reason for our visit to Fuessen (I think I should compose a song about Fuessen!) Much as we decry monarchy, but for them, who else could exemplify excess and opulence? They were the standard bearers for excessive indulgence worth emulating by others in all generations who wished/thought they were royalty, which in some ways, they probably are!
From the palace we went to Olympia Park the 1972 Summer Olympics site by tram and subway and it was yet another treat. Here, we took in the lovely setting, took photographs, remembered the 1972 kidnapping of the Israeli athletes with sadness, visited the swimming pools, had lunch and before boarding the train back, visited the BMW Museum.
On our return trip, we got off at the Odeaonplatz (I fell in love with this spot; its Feldherrnhalle: http://www.aviewoncities.com/munich/feldherrnhalle.htm reminded me so much of the mandapams in south Indian temples): http://www.aviewoncities.com/munich/odeonsplatz.htm (we were in this square the previous evening on our way to the English Garden) stop near the Residenz Palace, which seemed closed, and then we searched for the famous Viktualienmarkt: http://www.aviewoncities.com/munich/viktualienmarkt.htm, wandered around the market checking the price of various things, returned to Marienplatz, had coffee and a black forest cake at a cafe here, and then positioned ourselves for the two Glockenspiel’sfiuve’s o’clock presentations--enactment of the 1568 wedding of Duke William V and Renate of Lorraine, complete with a jousting match and a rendition of a dance called the Schäfferltanz, first performed to mark the end of the plague in 1517. We returned to our room, freshened up and went to Rama Restaurant http://www.toytowngermany.com/munich/rama.html, which we had spotted accidentally on our way to Nymphenburg that morning and had a sumptuous Indian dinner. There was just one other guest besides us—the owner of Joto Abrasives, Nasik, India. We struck up a conversation and when he left he said hat he was happy to have met a sister.
We roamed around a bit on the tram, took in the long Maxmillianstrasse lined with upscale shops, glimpsed at River Isar, and then returned to our room around 10:30 p.m..
Next morning, as planned, we took the to 8:03 train to Fuessen. Once we got to Fuessen, I felt that we should have got into Fuessen the previous night. Fuessen was so quaint and so beautiful! “Mad King” Ludwig II was not mad after all.
After our wonderful trip to Fuessen, the minor incident that took place as described before, led to a happy encounter with Daniella who also was traveling to Lindau and who also was in the wrong car like us.
Soon after our train left the “famous” Immenstadt, a lithesome youngish woman with a lean face flustered burst into our compartment and asked if the train was going to Lindau. At that point, we had not yet realized our mistake, so we said, yes. She left our compartment and we didn’t know where she went. Later, the moment we realized we had a mistake and I ran into the next compartment to look for the conductor, I saw Daniella siting there. I informed her that we were in the wrong car. A few quick exchanges with the other passengers in broken German (Daniella) and broken English (the German passengers, although one Hispanic looking woman spoke better English—most non-whites in Europe spoke good English!) made us realize that we should get off at the next station which surprisingly came within the next few minutes. At the station was a friendly looking young man whose name was Allah! Yes, go figure. He was an Iraqi who had worked with the Americans in Iraq and finally chose to make Germany his home...at least for now. In his limited English, he communicated that he’d take us back to Immenstadt, which is where he lived, and put us on the next train to Lindau. What a relief this was! He even tried helping me with my luggage which help I politely declined.
Soon after we bid goodbye to Allah in Immenstadt, we went over to the Deutsche Bahn (DB) Office to make sure we had the right train information. Once again, the stiff uniformed assistant, when I explained to him our mistake and how the train from Faussen to Kaufbeuren was late thus “forcing” us to make the mistake we made, and how the DB agent in Munich had given us a schedule in German, from his printer, he whipped out a new schedule from Immenstadt to Kontanz in English.
At the station, Daniella and I became the best of friends. I don’t know why we connected so instantly. We were like two schoolgirls on an expedition. Daniella’s infectious spirit was the reason behind this I think. With no common language between us, still, we managed to communicate so much. When hearts meet, no formal language seems necessary. I learned that she had been trained in ballet for 20 years. She was from Transylvania, Romania. Just with hand gestures and an extremely expressive face, she “explained” that people in Transylvania were very nice but not so in Bucharest. She taught sign language to deaf-and-mute children in Valencia, Spain and in summer was going to Africa with a doctor to, pro bono, help children there. I was so touched.
She was also breaking up with her alcoholic boyfriend. We decided that we’d teach each other some English and Spanish. We’d point to the various pieces of our luggage and name them in the two languages. She pointed to a pigeon and said Pilomita and repeated it. Then I wondered aloud to her if Picasso’s daughter’s name Pilomina was derived from Pilomita. Indeed, I could imagine Picasso calling his daughter, his little dove. We both burst out laughing. I took her e-mail address and we promised to continue the lessons by e-mail. Soon the train arrived. After about ninety minutes, we all got off at Lindau and we hugged each other and bid goodbye and B and I dashed off to our connecting train to Friederichshafen.
Anyway, all is well that ends well, and we eventually, reached Konstanz at 8:05 p.m. without any more incidents, and still there was plenty of daylight left. I knew we were in for another treat
Ciao!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
