.: poparazzi :.

We journeyed to the Thuringian capital of Erfurt to meet up with the Pope on the second leg of his first official visit to the former East Germany. Though we started out very early and rushed before the floodgates to the Cathedral Square closed, we found ourselves slowed to a trickle as we wound around a disorientating route through the old city’s alleys and cul-de-sacs to join a massive crush of people, nearly 30,000 who had also come to share this experience.

And it really was something to witness up close and take part in all the pageantry and ceremony, and though it was not a small affair, our audience, we could see everything quite well but the glare of the morning sun made it easier to watch the spectacle on the Jumbotrons (giant television screens), and hard to take pictures, though we did capture him en route in his Pope Mobile.

The sermon and the mass were also very moving: though we saw the Pope because we had the opportunity, I do not think we were just spectators or paparazzi for Cardinal Ratzinger, in was fascinating to be part of that big crowd and his message of rediscovery of one’s faith was strong and regardless of the substance, showed him to be of a character that cares about people and is burdened with worrying, praying for everyone. It was a bit ironic that the Pope preached from the very cathedral where Martin Luther, who was the architect behind the major schism of Western Christianity resulting in Catholics and Protestants, was first ordained as a Catholic bishop. It was challenging to tell if anyone really appreciated that irony. Afterwards, having stood for hours, we were a little tired but both glad to have made the journey and saw it through.

Incidentally, the headline of a major news service read in the hours following, “Pope celebrates Mass in Former Communist East Germany despite Shooting Attempt,” and many things were misleading with this bit of sensational journalism, not the least of which concerned a local resident apprehended about a hour too early and a kilometer too far for trying to shoot one of the ubiquitous police officers with an air rifle from his window and not at all what is sounded like.

.: august august :.

We spent an extended weekend discovering the storied city of Dresden and surrounding Elbe Valley. We came away with a lot of impressions and more insight into the history and circumstance that formed the region. August the Strong (Augustus der Starke) was the Saxon ruler of the early 18th century who was primarily responsible for commissioning all the Baroque embellishments that earned Dresden the title the “Balcony of Europe.”

First, we visited the Grünes Gewölbe (Green Vault) in the Dresdener Residenz and were dazzled by the collection of treasures—a succession of mirrored galleries, faithful reconstructed and stocked with silver, gold and ivory works of art. Afterwards, we strolled through the old town, the Zwinger palace, and along the Brühl Promenade, Europe’s balcony, that runs parallel to the river and commands a view into the streets of town.

In the late evening, we went out to a club, with which we had better luck and more energy for than in our past experiences, that was located in the district of Neustadt, which had a lot of character and once boasted a sort of independent status as the Bunte Republik of Neustadt (DE/EN), an artists’ enclave and a micronation like Freetown Christiania in Oslo, for a short time in the early 1990s.

The next day, we had booked passage on a cruise down the Elbe in a boat that was part of the oldest and largest fleet of paddle-wheel steamships in the world. Before boarding, however, we investigated the vaulted guard chambers that were buried in the fortified walls of the city. There was an interesting history lesson in regards to the patrolling and policing the population and August the Strong kept alchemists in his employment, granting them one clay-lined passageway as a laboratory for potentially dangerous experiments. The mad scientists were charged with discovering the formula, and they were successful, for so-called white gold, porcelain in order to compete with china from China—only the major centers of production were later moved to Meissen.

The steam ship, the Leipzig, as a matter of fact, was antique model but modernized and gleaming, and gave us a relaxed tour of Dresden’s banks, including the new Autobahn bridge that offended UNESCO so much and the Blaues Wunder, a technical marvel still in use and the oldest suspension bridge. There were several palaces along the banks but our destination, some 11 kilometers down the river, was absolutely breathtaking.

The oriental summer palace of August the Strong of Pillnitz was built as a romantic retreat for one of his mistresses and was another baroque masterpiece of architecture and artistry. In the evening, we explored the city some more and took a lot of photographs of the buildings illuminated at night, including the Fürstenzug, an amazing mosaic of Meissen tile that depicts the rulers of Saxony.

The next day, we took another tour around the town that explained more history and allowed us to revisit a few landmarks, and covering more ground in a short time, we had a chance to take a guided tour of the opera house, the Semperoper, which had the most incredible foyer and theatre, including a forerunner to the digital clock, above the stage, so the audience—I guess, did not need to be discrete about checking their watches.

Before our arranged visit to the Frauenkirche, we visited the royal Hofkirche with its strange altar of Meissen porcelain. Rebuilt from collective memory and with resolve and dedication, the towering landmark was as impressive to see from the inside as from the outside. We were a bit overwhelmed with all the adventures and we spent a quiet evening, reflecting on what all we had done and seen.

Unfortunately we had to return home the next day, but the trip was rejuvenating and seemed longer than just a few days. On the way home, we visited another one of August the Strong’s idylls, just a little hunting lodge perched on a mountain deep in the Saxon woods, between Dresden and Chemnitz. For all we saw, there is certainly a lot more to discover and a return trip is definitely in order.

.: bye bye La France :.

Den Donnerstag genossen wir nochmal bei hochsommerlichen Temperaturen. Sonderlich viele Bilder sind nicht entstanden, da wir relativ regungslos am Strand gelegen haben. Um nicht erst am Sonntag eine Punktlandung hinzulegen, beschlossen wir schweren Herzens, die Reise gen Heimat schon am Freitag langsam anzugehen. Am Morgen verließen wir Boyardville in Richtung Festland, kurz vor Erreichen des "Viaduct d´Oléron" (richtig, die kostenlose Brücke) statteten wir der Zitadelle Château d´Oléron (EN/DE) noch einen Besuch ab. Hier hatte ebenfalls der schon etliche Male erwähnte Festungsbaumeister Vauban seine Finger im Spiele, die Zitadelle stellt eine komplexe und bemerkenswerte Befestigungsanlage dar, deren Aufgabe war es, die Mündung der Charente und den Hafen von Rochefort zu schützen. Weiter gings über Marennes nach Brouage (EN/DE), welches ursprünglich ein sehr wichtiger Ort für den Handel mit Salz in Europa war. Im 17. Jh. wurde der Ort zu einer Festung ausgebaut. Nach einem Umbau durch Vauban (wir haben damit übringens bis auf 2 Bauwerke mittlerweile alle seiner Anlagen gesehen!!) verlor sie einen Teil ihrer Befestigungsanlagen. In diesem zauberhaften Ort kann man heute unter anderem das herrliche Gebäude der Halle aux Vivres oder auch das Pulvermagazin Saint-Luc besichtigen. Letzter Stop vorm Sprung auf die Autobahn gen Heimat war die Stadt Saintes (EN/DE). Obwohl der Name so heilig anmutet, geht er eher 'nur' auf eine Gründung durch die Santonen zurück, erstmals erwähnt wurde er jedoch als eine römische Siedlung. Somit verwundert´s auch nicht, dass sich in der sehr mediteran anmutenden Kleinstadt (ca. 28.000 Einwohner) jede Menge interessante 'Überreste' römischer Bauwerke finden lassen. Am bekanntesten ist wohl der Arc de Germanicus (EN/DE), welcher bis Mitte des 19. Jh. noch auf einer römischen Brücke über die Charente stand. Nach einer Besichtigung der Kathedrale Saint-Pierre suchten wir im wahrsten Sinne des Wortes nach einem zweiten recht berühmten römischen Bauwerk in Saintes - dem Amphitheater, dessen Vorhandensein die Bedeutsamkeit der Stadt in römischer Zeit untermalt. Obwohl überall in der Stadt vorbildlich kleine Wegweiser die Richtung zeigen sollten, hatten wir doch eher den Eindruck, dass hier Touristen auf eine Schnitzeljagd geschickt wurden.
Schweren Herzens verließen wir die Charente-Maritme dann gegen 16.30 Uhr. Um auf der weiteren Rückreise gut an Paris vorbeizukommen (was eigentlich immer heißt, dass man gut durch Paris kommen muss...), begaben wir uns auf die A 10, passierten dann Poitiers, Tours, Orléans und gegen 22.30 Uhr auch Paris. Ursprünglich war noch einen Zwischenübernachtung geplant, aber von unsagbarer Erholung gekennzeichnet entschlossen wir uns für die Non-Stop-Weiterreise. Einzig 'Lady' durfte eine kurze Verschnaufpause haben und sich einen kräftigen Schluck aus dem Ölkanister gönnen. In den frühen Morgenstunden erreichten wir Saarbrücken, gegen 10.30 Uhr landeten wir dann nach einer Gesamtfahrstrecke von ca. 1.200 km wohlbhalten aber doch recht müde wieder im Unterfränkischen. Die kommenden Tage werden wohl dazu dienen, erstmal alles 'sacken' zu lassen und das Bildmaterial zu sortieren, insges. haben wir mal wieder so 1.500 Bilder auf den Speicherkarten. Ein besonderer Dank geht an unsere mittlerweile 27-jährige Wohnung auf Rädern, die uns während dieses 3000-km-Trips nicht ein einziges Mal (!) im Stich ließ oder auf unangenehme Weise überrascht hat...

.: chariots of fire :.

Ende letzter Woche nur auf Badewetter zu hoffen, war nicht unser Ding. Nachdem wir die Düne von Pilat hinter uns gelassen haben, fanden wir ca. 50 km südlich bei Mimizan einen schönen Platz am malerisch gelegenen Etang d’Aureilhan (die Einheimischen nennen ihn nur “Le Lac”). Unterwegs stießen wir noch auf einen “Brocante” (dt. Flohmarkt), wo’s einige Kleinigkeiten zu ergattern gab. Am See angekommen, nutzten wir den restlichen schönen Tag für eine Kanufahrt auf dem See. Da wir irrsinnigerweise meinten, wir müssten ihn in dieser Nußschale mittig überqueren, stellte sich der Muskelkater auch bereits am Abend und nicht erst am kommenden Tag ein. Am Sa. Abend zog’s dann wettertechnisch etwas zu, voller Hoffnung haben wir dann am kommenden Morgen die Augen ganz langsam geöffnet – geholfen hat’s wenig. Uns erwartete ein mehr oder weniger verregneter Sonntag, den wir aber wenigstens für eine längere Radtour ans Meer nach Mimizan-Plage nutzen konnten. Der Montag startete noch düsterer mit heftigstem Regen… am Vorabend hatten wir schon beschlossen, beizeiten in die Gänge zu kommen und ggf. zu “flüchten”… und das taten wir dann auch :-). Nach einem Blick auf’s Wetter versprach der Norden etwas bessere Aussichten, also eilten wir in einem 4-Stunden-Ritt durch’s Medoc und über die Fähre von Royan auf die Ile d’Oleron. Und das war dann wohl ‘ne gute Entscheidung, denn unmittelbar nachdem wir die (diesmal im Gegensatz zur benachbarten Ile de Re kostenlose) Brücke überquert hatten, klarte es auf. Entgegen der Empfehlung des Navi’s fanden wir im Reiseführer die die empfehlenswerte Route des Huitres direkt an der Ostküste entlang, die uns an den Austernfarmen vorbeiführte, die die Insel so berühmt machten (Anm.: nicht nur berühmt, sondern in bescheidenem Maße wohl auch vermögend, wie der aus Kilometern Entfernung bereits sichtbare gigantische Kirchturm von Marennes auf dem Festland beweist). Vor den Toren von Boyardville fanden wir einen schönen Campingplatz mitten in einem Fichtenwald direkt hinter der Düne. Am Abend fand sich Zeit für einen ausgedehten Strandspaziergang, Fort Boyard dist zum Greifen nah. Am Diestag wurde die Jagd nach gutem Wetter belohnt, wir unternahmen wieder ne längere Radtour an der Ostküste der Insel bei sonnigen 23 Grad.

On Wednesday, extending our stay in the campsite in the Saumonards Forest fronting the Grand Plage by Point Boyard, we decided to devote the day to a longer bicycle excursion, seeking out firstly the Côte Sauvage (Wild Coast) on the Atlantic side of the island. I suppose it is a good thing that we are on an island, since it is a bit more of a challenge to get hopelessly lost; we discovered soon that the bike trails were rather incomplete and the signage was lacking. Braving the main thoroughfares, we crossed to the village of Dolus, brilliantly white-washed and very Mediterranean looking. There we went to the beach that is apparently a big draw for surfers, and it did have a different character than our base-camp beach and the waves were stronger. We followed the coast line for a while to La Continiére and meandered on calmer roads through the island capital of St. Pierre, had a coffee and tried to gain our bearings. St. Pierre has an imposing 12th century church tower that made a good guide-point in town, which though inland burned with an eternal flame as a beacon for those lost at sea. After that, however, we were navigating on memory and the direction of the setting-sun, gambling on a short-cut through more fields of oyster-culture and little ranch-lands riveted with salt-water canals. We did make it through these glades and back through the nearby town of Boyardville, which if I am interpreting the city-limits signs and a bumper-sticker correctly—is declaring independence from the Republic of France over zoning laws. I will have to look into this revolution later. We ought to have a few more days in the sun to come.

.: blayais, bourgeois, bordelais :.

After visiting the grottoes of Meschers-sur-Gironde and learning the interesting and varied history and use of the place, a pirate’s lure and lair and a hidden place for Protestants to worship, we made our way in the direction of Bordeaux, taking a leisurely drive along the shores of the Gironde where the waters of mighty river and Atlantic mixed. En route, we watched the scenery pass of lush vineyards and chateaux hewn out of cliffs and ancient churches. With a break in the weather and better boding for the rest of our vacation, there was just too much to see and we could take weeks just to explore this stretch of road. We stopped in the afternoon at the town of Blaye, featuring another of the prolific builder Vauban’s citadels. The occasion for the fortifications was to defend from the English during the Napoleonic wars. The huge garrison made up its own quarter of the town with its own residents and shops. In the shadow of the impossibly high walls was also the ruins of a basilica where legend has it that the folk hero Roland is buried. After Blaye, we went on to find a camp site for the evening, before trying for the metropolitan city of Bordeaux and discovered a little gem of a village—not in the guide books, called Bourg, and camped on the shore with a tableaux of a shipwreck and grand river under the cliff walls of the fortress. The next day, we headed for Bordeaux and had a fine time exploring the city, with its endless 18th century imperial architecture. The weather, however, was not completely cooperative. By the time we were done touring the city, however, a sunny and clear late afternoon welcomed us as we pitched camp at the foot of the massive and magnificent Grand Dune of Pyla, the largest wandering sand dune of Europe, nearly 120 meters high as it moves glacially into the pine forests that surround the beach and 4 kilometers longs. It was a difficult vertical hike up but we had a lot of fun in this unique and pristine sandbox. Today, we are off further south for a few relaxing more days on the beach.

.: Vom Regen in die Traufe...:.

Nachdem die Wettervorhersage fuer Di-Do nicht unbedingt optimale Strandbedingungen versprach, beschlossen wir, nicht einfach nur auf der Ile de Re auf Besserung zu warten. Statt dessen ging's dann schon etwas eher weiter gen Sueden. Vorbei an Fouras, wo eine weitere Vauban-Festungsanlage zu bestaunen war (die erste sahen wir letztes Jahr in Neuf-Brisach im Elsass) gings erstmal in der Region Charente-Martime zum Chateau-de-la-Roche-Courbon. Alles wirkte ueberhaupt nicht wie ein Museum, was wohl daran liegt, dass die alten Gemaeuer noch bewohnt werden, so wird u.a. die Schlosskueche noch gut benutzt. Weiter gings bei Regen bis nach Meschers-sur-Gironde, welches ca. 70 km noerdlich an der Gironde-Muendung liegt. Bekannt wurde dass Oertchen durch seine "Felsenwohnungen", die Steilkueste ist dort ca. 50 m hoch, die Gironde hat sich in das Kalkplateau gefressen. Uebrig blieben Hoehlensysteme, die von findigen und windigen (z.B. Schmuggler, Piraten) Franzosen bewohnt wurden. Mittlerweile scheint es sehr trendy zu sein, eine solche Hoehle zu besitzen, einige wurden ausgebaut, u.a. zu einem Hotel. Am Do. Nachmittag wollen wir noch weiter die Gironde in Richtung Bordeaux hinauf, werden uns wohl ein Plaetzchen in der Naehe von Blaye suchen, dort gibts wiederum eine Vauban-Festung zu sehen und das in einer Kirchruine vermutete Grab des franz. Nationalhelden Roland... wer auch immer das sein mag :-)

.: wind-swept and donkeys in pajamas :.

In the morning, we left La Rochelle and travelled from the mainland to Île de Ré, stopping to marvel at everything—the beaches and an impressive church ruin called Notre-Dame-des-Châteliers in Rivedoux by the Fort de la Prée (which was closed due to a private engagement). In fact, we circumnavigated, basically, the entire island in the Bulli, searching for the perfect campsite, through La Flotte, La Couarde, Loix, Le Bois-Plage, and in the end settled in one of the first places that we passed, St-Martin-de-Ré.

The municipal camp site is nestled in the corner of the star-shaped ravellin that form the city defensive walls. This fortified town was designed by Vauban (who also built the garrison-town of Neuf-Brisach that we visited in the Alsace) and had a fantastic protected harbor that wound through made stone canals and second fortification that rambled along the coast.

Though also inviting to see, the place has been used as a prison for centuries—like some place to hide away the Man in the Iron Mask, a prison full of intrigue and secret passages. Also, we witnessed a parade of donkeys inexplicably in pajama bottoms. I am not sure about this tradition, but we did see on several post cards donkeys in pants led by ancient peasant women and stuffed animals to that effect in the tourist shops.

Though we were sheltered from the weather against the city wall, to have the howling wind all around us was a strange feeling and though undeterred we are hoping for clearer and calmer skies tomorrow so we can make a leisurely bike tour around the island.