Mr & Mrs Annhig go bummelling round Germany.
Oct 15th, 2014, 07:14 AM
#61
Chartley, as we were walking down the Brocken, we spotted a sign which I think translated as
"on [date the wall came down or close thereto] the DDR soldiers stationed here put down their arms".
I found that surprisingly moving. There were one or two other such monuments too, but I've forgotten where they were.
Although it is the highest peak in Northern Germany, the Brocken is more or less unknown amongst brits I have spoken to, and I had never heard of it before we started researching this trip. However a client of mine [who was in the British Army stationed at Paderborn] said that they frequently did exercises there which involved running up and down in with full packs. There is also a local man who has got himself into the Guinness Book or World Records by walking up and down it every day for the last 20 years or so - that's over 7000 times.
"on [date the wall came down or close thereto] the DDR soldiers stationed here put down their arms".
I found that surprisingly moving. There were one or two other such monuments too, but I've forgotten where they were.
Although it is the highest peak in Northern Germany, the Brocken is more or less unknown amongst brits I have spoken to, and I had never heard of it before we started researching this trip. However a client of mine [who was in the British Army stationed at Paderborn] said that they frequently did exercises there which involved running up and down in with full packs. There is also a local man who has got himself into the Guinness Book or World Records by walking up and down it every day for the last 20 years or so - that's over 7000 times.
Oct 15th, 2014, 10:15 AM
#62
Birthday on the Brocken!
Grappling with the hire car manual proved soporific enough to overcome the discomfort of the bed, so we woke reasonably early and set off for breakfast, [included in the price of the room in this case] only to find the breakfast room heaving with our fellow guests. Luckily there was space at the tables on the balcony, and it was warm enough [just] to sit out, so we settled ourselves down to enjoy my birthday breakfast, which did not disappoint. Everything you could reasonably want for your morning repast, all very fresh and replenished as quickly as it was being demolished by the guests, including us. Fresh tea or coffee brought to the table as soon as we'd sat down and given the order, with hot or cold milk.
Having sussed out the train timetables the night before, we knew that we had no time to linger, so we dragged ourselves away from the view of the Schloss, and kitting ourselves out with walking shoes, water bottles, rain jackets, rucksac, etc. etc. we strolled down to the station. Contrary to the notice on the door [assuming my translation skills had not let me down] the ticket office was open so we bought return tickets to the top, and went to find our seats on the train, which in true German style, left dead on time. The first stages of the journey take you through the outskirts of Wernigerode, including the only school in Germany with its own railway station, and then the line gradually winds its way through the dense forests up to the top of the mountain, arriving there some 90 minutes later. All of this is accompanied by a commentary, most of which DH found he could understand without my "assistance". 90 minutes was really quite enough though, and I would not want to take any of the options which require you to spend several hours on the train, as you would if you were starting from Quedlingburg for example. Better to drive and catch the train further up, IMO.
At the top it was quite foggy with a chill wind, so we donned our jumpers and rainmacs, and went for a wander round, with an eye on the best place for the first beer of the day. [it was after all about noon by now - i hope that none of you thought that we were starting to tipple at 10am. - you did? oh well, I would if I could get away with it!] However the wind and chill drove us indoors and the best we found was a cavernous self-service restaurant where many of our fellow guests were already tucking into great piles of Bratwurst and chips, washed down with litres of german lager.
We of course were still full of breakfast, so after wetting our whistles, we explored the top of the mountain with the compulsory arrows pointing to Berlin, Paris and Moscow. We had bought a little book of walks on the Brocken and were intending to walk down at least to the station about half way up [or down, depending on your point of view]. How difficult could that be? Well, what we could see on our admittedly small diagrams looked like nothing on the ground, and when we got to some crossroads after about 1km, we had a choice to take. 10kms of boring road, or 5kms of interesting looking pathway. well of course, that was a no brainer, and having no brains, we picked the latter. Interesting and shorter? how could we go wrong?
oh dear, oh dear. There followed a couple of hours of very tiring and tedious scrambling down extremely large rocks and stones arranged in a rough pathway, until we finally reached a proper path and another sign saying that the station we were headed for was 6kms away in one direction and 8kms in the other. ??? how could that have happened? This time we definitely wanted the boring option, so we picked the path that seemed to follow the railway line - that way we could not get lost, could we? By now our tummies were beginning to think of food but there was nothing to be done but to trudge on through the forest. The path wasn't all bad - there were the occasional glimpses of distant views [as estate agents like to say] and at one point the train came past just as we were getting to the opening in the trees which gave us a great photo opportunity. But generally it was a pretty tedious route march - until at last the station, and better still the station Gasthof, came into sight.
One great advantage of travelling in Germany is that many hostelries offer hot food all day ["durchgehende wärme Küche"] and we fell upon our bowls of goulash soup like people who had not eaten, well, since breakfast - which seemed to be a very long time ago. The beer was good too, and about 10 minutes after we'd finished eating, the train appeared and we hopped on.
My original reading of the timetable suggested that this was a direct train back down to Wernigerode but a second glance showed that we had to change at the next station and there was quite a confusion while people jumped off one and onto the other. But we were soon off again and gently rolling back down the hill to civilisation and another beer.
Grappling with the hire car manual proved soporific enough to overcome the discomfort of the bed, so we woke reasonably early and set off for breakfast, [included in the price of the room in this case] only to find the breakfast room heaving with our fellow guests. Luckily there was space at the tables on the balcony, and it was warm enough [just] to sit out, so we settled ourselves down to enjoy my birthday breakfast, which did not disappoint. Everything you could reasonably want for your morning repast, all very fresh and replenished as quickly as it was being demolished by the guests, including us. Fresh tea or coffee brought to the table as soon as we'd sat down and given the order, with hot or cold milk.
Having sussed out the train timetables the night before, we knew that we had no time to linger, so we dragged ourselves away from the view of the Schloss, and kitting ourselves out with walking shoes, water bottles, rain jackets, rucksac, etc. etc. we strolled down to the station. Contrary to the notice on the door [assuming my translation skills had not let me down] the ticket office was open so we bought return tickets to the top, and went to find our seats on the train, which in true German style, left dead on time. The first stages of the journey take you through the outskirts of Wernigerode, including the only school in Germany with its own railway station, and then the line gradually winds its way through the dense forests up to the top of the mountain, arriving there some 90 minutes later. All of this is accompanied by a commentary, most of which DH found he could understand without my "assistance". 90 minutes was really quite enough though, and I would not want to take any of the options which require you to spend several hours on the train, as you would if you were starting from Quedlingburg for example. Better to drive and catch the train further up, IMO.
At the top it was quite foggy with a chill wind, so we donned our jumpers and rainmacs, and went for a wander round, with an eye on the best place for the first beer of the day. [it was after all about noon by now - i hope that none of you thought that we were starting to tipple at 10am. - you did? oh well, I would if I could get away with it!] However the wind and chill drove us indoors and the best we found was a cavernous self-service restaurant where many of our fellow guests were already tucking into great piles of Bratwurst and chips, washed down with litres of german lager.
We of course were still full of breakfast, so after wetting our whistles, we explored the top of the mountain with the compulsory arrows pointing to Berlin, Paris and Moscow. We had bought a little book of walks on the Brocken and were intending to walk down at least to the station about half way up [or down, depending on your point of view]. How difficult could that be? Well, what we could see on our admittedly small diagrams looked like nothing on the ground, and when we got to some crossroads after about 1km, we had a choice to take. 10kms of boring road, or 5kms of interesting looking pathway. well of course, that was a no brainer, and having no brains, we picked the latter. Interesting and shorter? how could we go wrong?
oh dear, oh dear. There followed a couple of hours of very tiring and tedious scrambling down extremely large rocks and stones arranged in a rough pathway, until we finally reached a proper path and another sign saying that the station we were headed for was 6kms away in one direction and 8kms in the other. ??? how could that have happened? This time we definitely wanted the boring option, so we picked the path that seemed to follow the railway line - that way we could not get lost, could we? By now our tummies were beginning to think of food but there was nothing to be done but to trudge on through the forest. The path wasn't all bad - there were the occasional glimpses of distant views [as estate agents like to say] and at one point the train came past just as we were getting to the opening in the trees which gave us a great photo opportunity. But generally it was a pretty tedious route march - until at last the station, and better still the station Gasthof, came into sight.
One great advantage of travelling in Germany is that many hostelries offer hot food all day ["durchgehende wärme Küche"] and we fell upon our bowls of goulash soup like people who had not eaten, well, since breakfast - which seemed to be a very long time ago. The beer was good too, and about 10 minutes after we'd finished eating, the train appeared and we hopped on.
My original reading of the timetable suggested that this was a direct train back down to Wernigerode but a second glance showed that we had to change at the next station and there was quite a confusion while people jumped off one and onto the other. But we were soon off again and gently rolling back down the hill to civilisation and another beer.
Oct 17th, 2014, 02:04 PM
#68
On the way back from the station we were contemplating having a cup of tea in the tea shop attached to our hotel, but strangely, the Weinstube next door proved even more inviting, especially when we realised that we could each have a different "flight" of 4 different wines [or was it 5?] for about €6 each. All we had to say was what sort of style we liked [white/red, dry/medium/sweet] and out hostess would do the rest. To help with the tasting, we ordered a plate of local cheese and biscuits; not of the same quality as the wines which were generally delicious, but we needed something in between sips. [or was that gulps?]
The Weinstube, which had clearly had a very busy afternoon, was beginning to close, and as she tidied up, our hostess engaged us in conversation, and pretty soon her husband turned up and he joined in too. In common with virtually every german I have ever met they were very well disposed towards the UK, and both had tales to tell of visiting Britain to see where their fathers had been PoWs - one in the northern wilds of Scotland, apparently because at the age of 17 he'd been made to join the SS, and the other in deepest Shropshire. We had a most interesting conversation about how their lives had changed, greatly for the better in their view, in the 20 or so years since the fall of the DDR. [and incidentally, how they thought that the Scots were mad to want to leave the UK, this being just a week or so before the vote was due to take place].
Eventually, clutching a bottle of local wine that we were destined to cart round with us from hotel to hotel, we staggered back to our room and strangely needed a nap before we could do anything else. Rather later than we had intended we went out for a meal but it turned out that Sunday night in Wernigerode is not a great time for celebrating a birthday, and we ended up having a very average Wienerschnitzel in one of the few restaurants that was still taking orders after 8pm.
Tomorrow - a couple of Burgs but no bus.
The Weinstube, which had clearly had a very busy afternoon, was beginning to close, and as she tidied up, our hostess engaged us in conversation, and pretty soon her husband turned up and he joined in too. In common with virtually every german I have ever met they were very well disposed towards the UK, and both had tales to tell of visiting Britain to see where their fathers had been PoWs - one in the northern wilds of Scotland, apparently because at the age of 17 he'd been made to join the SS, and the other in deepest Shropshire. We had a most interesting conversation about how their lives had changed, greatly for the better in their view, in the 20 or so years since the fall of the DDR. [and incidentally, how they thought that the Scots were mad to want to leave the UK, this being just a week or so before the vote was due to take place].
Eventually, clutching a bottle of local wine that we were destined to cart round with us from hotel to hotel, we staggered back to our room and strangely needed a nap before we could do anything else. Rather later than we had intended we went out for a meal but it turned out that Sunday night in Wernigerode is not a great time for celebrating a birthday, and we ended up having a very average Wienerschnitzel in one of the few restaurants that was still taking orders after 8pm.
Tomorrow - a couple of Burgs but no bus.
Oct 18th, 2014, 05:51 AM
#71
After enjoying another great breakfast in the heaving breakfast room [I think that we were the only non-germans in the place, both nights, to judge by the car number plates and the voices we could hear] it was time to try to get the car out of the car park and pay the bill, which I did with a very surly woman behind the desk. I don't think it was me - I am always [over?] careful to say Guten Morgen, Bitte, and Danke in all the right places. Breakfasts had definitely been the best thing about this place.
Remembering the "three prerequisites" according to my translation of the instruction manual [driver's door closed, seat belt on and clutch in] we actually succeeded in starting the car, and even in getting the automatic break to release. Hooray. The plan was to aim for lunch in Quedlingburg via a gentle drive through the middle of the Harz before making our way to Burg Falkenstein at the far eastern end of the mountains and thence to Weimar. This involved slightly going back on ourselves, as on our way here by sticking to the motorways we had missed out some of what looked like good bits of scenery, so we headed west to Bad Harzburg [where we might have stopped had it been coffee time] and then pootled our way south of the Brocken til we arrived in Quedlingburg midmorning - just in time for a beer!
Luckily there was some free parking near what looked like a park just outside the centre so we stuck our parking clock on the car [which we'd found in the glove compartment] as we saw other drivers had done, and set off down into the town via the TI where we grabbed a town map. In truth however, there wasn't that much of the town that a map was strictly necessary, and we amused to see one of those little trains doing a roaring trade in the centre. At least in Wernigerode there was a Schloss on the hill for it to take you up to. So after a refreshing beer we went for a wander round, DH bought some much needed underwear after we'd had fun working out the sizes, [there's always something you forget, isn't there?] and in no time we found ourselves back in the centre again looking for lunch. Ignoring the singsong cries of the seller of the prize-winning Thuringer Bratwurst [the only one with a golden medallion, as he must have told us at least 20 times while we were having our lunch] we settled on leek and potato soup for DH, and for me a ukrainian soup, which we had seen in several places and fancied trying. It turned out to be quite a thin soup full of bits of wurst of all types -clearly a good way of using up leftovers in a country with over 100 sorts of sausages. A bit salty for my taste but very edible.
By now we had just about used up our 2 hour parking time so we made our way back to the car, and attempted to leave, only to discover that we couldn't find our way out of the town. The Satnav wouldn't recognise "Burg Falkenstein" and we just kept going round in circles. Eventually, however, we escaped the town's clutches and again we were driving through the Harz in an easterly direction. What did we think of Quedlingburg? Well, it was very pleasant, but definitely lacked the vibrancy of Goslar, and quite why it deserved its UNESCO gong remained a bit of a mystery to us. Not quite a case of "once you've seen one Fachwerk town you've seen them all" but close, and we were glad that we'd chosen to stay in Wernigerode, despite the shortcomings of our hotel's beds.
Getting to Burg Falkenstein [greatly praised by the guidebook we were following] was more difficult than it should have been as the road signs didn't seem to match what we were reading on our map, but finally the visitor centre and car park hove into view, and while DH failed to avail himself of the facilities [50c even for the gents] I went to speak to the lady in the TI to ask about the bus to the castle, which had been mentioned in the self-same guidebook. Mmm - it turns out that Monday is not apparently the best day to visit Burg Falkenstein as it's the one day of the week that the visitor bus doesn't run and private cars are not allowed. how far? "only 2 kms" - but at least she gave me the key to the ladies free of charge, so i could get changed into something more suitable for walking than the skirt I happened to be wearing with a degree of modesty and I didn't need to choose between spending 50c or using the trees!
Suitably attired, we set off for the castle up a very badly signposted track and soon came to a fork in the path, with what we were coming to see as the normal dilemma - whether to take the longer boring but ultimately easier and quicker service road or the allegedly shorter but more interesting path through the woods? After our previous experience caution prevailed and we slogged our way up the road to the castle in about 40 mins, only to be greeted by the sight of a car park. OK for disabled only, but given the nos of people who were there [us and another couple plus a school group] would they have noticed?
Sad to say, Burg Falkenstein was not a huge success. Not only does the bus not run on mondays, but the falconry displays and historical tableaux of people dressed in medieval style are missing as well, and having €1 each knocked off the price of admission [€5 instead of €6] wasn't really any recompense. Its situation overlooking the curve of a river is lovely and there were great views, but the rather run-down interior was a great disappointment. The most interesting part was the video of the discovery a few years ago by the english heir to the castle of treasure that was buried before WW2 to save it from the Nazis, which I'd have liked to learn more about but there was no-one to ask. The signage was pretty poor too, and it was difficult to know whether you'd seen it all, but presumably the rest of the week there are guides to tell you where to go.
So after an hour or so we set off to tramp our way back to the car, but were sidetracked by the thought of some refreshment at the Gasthof just at the end of the path, where presumably you would catch the minibus to the castle - and yes, there were the minibuses. Was it open? not only open, but there were noises of singing and merriment coming from within. Was gibt? Well, so far as we could make out, on Mondays the owners supplemented their income by running the german equivalent of a tea-dance for the local OAPs. Singing, dancing, eating and drinking - a good time was being had by all. We contented ourselves with sitting in the garden with a modest pot of tea [surprisingly good, and served with the cold milk we asked for which is not always a given] and then set off for Weimar, a drive of about 2 hours due south of where we were.
Why Weimar? When I was researching the trip there seemed to be lots of reasons for going there. As well as having been the seat of the German government during the 1920s, it had been the home of both Schiller and Goethe who I had had to study at school. Plus on a previous visit to the former DDR friends of ours had spent a day in Weimar, and loved it, and it was apparently full of lovely C18 buildings and museums. And what sealed it was that there is a very nice Best Western hotel where I could collect some points and which we could cancel up to 6pm if we decided to do something else.
Two hours later we were driving into Weimar, thoroughly bored with driving through mile after mile of forest. OK, the views opened up occasionally, but the forests of this region are, to say the least, extensive. The hotel "Russische Hof" offers valet parking, so once we'd located it, realised we we'd gone past it and turned round, then parked in front, and extracted what we needed, we had only to hand the key over, and it disappeared. Really it was a lovely hotel with virtually everything you could want, and our very comfortable room included a minibar with free soft drinks and wine glasses, but no cork-screw, so our bottle of wine remained unopened.
http://www.russischerhof-weimar.de/
Once we'd unpacked it was getting quite late so we went out to find our dinner without perhaps giving it enough thought, and ended up having a pretty ordinary pizza each in a pretty ordinary pizzeria with very ordinary service. Weimar however looked lovely at night, and our evening was made by the delicious gelati we had at the italian ice-cream bar for only 90c each, which we ate admiring the statute of Goethe and Schiller in front of the National Theatre.
Tomorrow - 200 years of history in just one day.
Remembering the "three prerequisites" according to my translation of the instruction manual [driver's door closed, seat belt on and clutch in] we actually succeeded in starting the car, and even in getting the automatic break to release. Hooray. The plan was to aim for lunch in Quedlingburg via a gentle drive through the middle of the Harz before making our way to Burg Falkenstein at the far eastern end of the mountains and thence to Weimar. This involved slightly going back on ourselves, as on our way here by sticking to the motorways we had missed out some of what looked like good bits of scenery, so we headed west to Bad Harzburg [where we might have stopped had it been coffee time] and then pootled our way south of the Brocken til we arrived in Quedlingburg midmorning - just in time for a beer!
Luckily there was some free parking near what looked like a park just outside the centre so we stuck our parking clock on the car [which we'd found in the glove compartment] as we saw other drivers had done, and set off down into the town via the TI where we grabbed a town map. In truth however, there wasn't that much of the town that a map was strictly necessary, and we amused to see one of those little trains doing a roaring trade in the centre. At least in Wernigerode there was a Schloss on the hill for it to take you up to. So after a refreshing beer we went for a wander round, DH bought some much needed underwear after we'd had fun working out the sizes, [there's always something you forget, isn't there?] and in no time we found ourselves back in the centre again looking for lunch. Ignoring the singsong cries of the seller of the prize-winning Thuringer Bratwurst [the only one with a golden medallion, as he must have told us at least 20 times while we were having our lunch] we settled on leek and potato soup for DH, and for me a ukrainian soup, which we had seen in several places and fancied trying. It turned out to be quite a thin soup full of bits of wurst of all types -clearly a good way of using up leftovers in a country with over 100 sorts of sausages. A bit salty for my taste but very edible.
By now we had just about used up our 2 hour parking time so we made our way back to the car, and attempted to leave, only to discover that we couldn't find our way out of the town. The Satnav wouldn't recognise "Burg Falkenstein" and we just kept going round in circles. Eventually, however, we escaped the town's clutches and again we were driving through the Harz in an easterly direction. What did we think of Quedlingburg? Well, it was very pleasant, but definitely lacked the vibrancy of Goslar, and quite why it deserved its UNESCO gong remained a bit of a mystery to us. Not quite a case of "once you've seen one Fachwerk town you've seen them all" but close, and we were glad that we'd chosen to stay in Wernigerode, despite the shortcomings of our hotel's beds.
Getting to Burg Falkenstein [greatly praised by the guidebook we were following] was more difficult than it should have been as the road signs didn't seem to match what we were reading on our map, but finally the visitor centre and car park hove into view, and while DH failed to avail himself of the facilities [50c even for the gents] I went to speak to the lady in the TI to ask about the bus to the castle, which had been mentioned in the self-same guidebook. Mmm - it turns out that Monday is not apparently the best day to visit Burg Falkenstein as it's the one day of the week that the visitor bus doesn't run and private cars are not allowed. how far? "only 2 kms" - but at least she gave me the key to the ladies free of charge, so i could get changed into something more suitable for walking than the skirt I happened to be wearing with a degree of modesty and I didn't need to choose between spending 50c or using the trees!
Suitably attired, we set off for the castle up a very badly signposted track and soon came to a fork in the path, with what we were coming to see as the normal dilemma - whether to take the longer boring but ultimately easier and quicker service road or the allegedly shorter but more interesting path through the woods? After our previous experience caution prevailed and we slogged our way up the road to the castle in about 40 mins, only to be greeted by the sight of a car park. OK for disabled only, but given the nos of people who were there [us and another couple plus a school group] would they have noticed?
Sad to say, Burg Falkenstein was not a huge success. Not only does the bus not run on mondays, but the falconry displays and historical tableaux of people dressed in medieval style are missing as well, and having €1 each knocked off the price of admission [€5 instead of €6] wasn't really any recompense. Its situation overlooking the curve of a river is lovely and there were great views, but the rather run-down interior was a great disappointment. The most interesting part was the video of the discovery a few years ago by the english heir to the castle of treasure that was buried before WW2 to save it from the Nazis, which I'd have liked to learn more about but there was no-one to ask. The signage was pretty poor too, and it was difficult to know whether you'd seen it all, but presumably the rest of the week there are guides to tell you where to go.
So after an hour or so we set off to tramp our way back to the car, but were sidetracked by the thought of some refreshment at the Gasthof just at the end of the path, where presumably you would catch the minibus to the castle - and yes, there were the minibuses. Was it open? not only open, but there were noises of singing and merriment coming from within. Was gibt? Well, so far as we could make out, on Mondays the owners supplemented their income by running the german equivalent of a tea-dance for the local OAPs. Singing, dancing, eating and drinking - a good time was being had by all. We contented ourselves with sitting in the garden with a modest pot of tea [surprisingly good, and served with the cold milk we asked for which is not always a given] and then set off for Weimar, a drive of about 2 hours due south of where we were.
Why Weimar? When I was researching the trip there seemed to be lots of reasons for going there. As well as having been the seat of the German government during the 1920s, it had been the home of both Schiller and Goethe who I had had to study at school. Plus on a previous visit to the former DDR friends of ours had spent a day in Weimar, and loved it, and it was apparently full of lovely C18 buildings and museums. And what sealed it was that there is a very nice Best Western hotel where I could collect some points and which we could cancel up to 6pm if we decided to do something else.
Two hours later we were driving into Weimar, thoroughly bored with driving through mile after mile of forest. OK, the views opened up occasionally, but the forests of this region are, to say the least, extensive. The hotel "Russische Hof" offers valet parking, so once we'd located it, realised we we'd gone past it and turned round, then parked in front, and extracted what we needed, we had only to hand the key over, and it disappeared. Really it was a lovely hotel with virtually everything you could want, and our very comfortable room included a minibar with free soft drinks and wine glasses, but no cork-screw, so our bottle of wine remained unopened.
http://www.russischerhof-weimar.de/
Once we'd unpacked it was getting quite late so we went out to find our dinner without perhaps giving it enough thought, and ended up having a pretty ordinary pizza each in a pretty ordinary pizzeria with very ordinary service. Weimar however looked lovely at night, and our evening was made by the delicious gelati we had at the italian ice-cream bar for only 90c each, which we ate admiring the statute of Goethe and Schiller in front of the National Theatre.
Tomorrow - 200 years of history in just one day.
Oct 18th, 2014, 08:22 AM
#74
bilbo - we didn't even see the parking attendant so there was no question at all of a gratuity.
Actually I was pretty impressed by the valet parking - something new for us and probably never to be repeated.
VT - I can recommend a few days in the Harz. I'm sure that we didn't see half of what there is - the Hexenplatte looked fun for example, and Bad Harzburg was very elegant.
if you don't want to go that far, Naumburg is a very nice little city and would make a fine place to stop over; from there you can get to Halle, Leipzig, Weimar, Magdeburg..you could do a nice trip going from Berlin to Naumburg [calling in on Potsdam on the way] then to Dresden, and back to Berlin.
Actually I was pretty impressed by the valet parking - something new for us and probably never to be repeated.
VT - I can recommend a few days in the Harz. I'm sure that we didn't see half of what there is - the Hexenplatte looked fun for example, and Bad Harzburg was very elegant.
if you don't want to go that far, Naumburg is a very nice little city and would make a fine place to stop over; from there you can get to Halle, Leipzig, Weimar, Magdeburg..you could do a nice trip going from Berlin to Naumburg [calling in on Potsdam on the way] then to Dresden, and back to Berlin.
Oct 18th, 2014, 10:29 AM
#76
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I haven't finished reading your wonderful report yet, but I just had to comment on Bad Durkheim.
When I first arrived in Germany many years ago, I had never drunk wine. Lots of beer, but no wine. This was mainly because my father disapproved of drinking wine because he thought if you drank it you became a wine-o.
So my second weekend in Germany, I went to the Weinfest at Bad Durkheim and drank several large glasses of wine. That was okay until I stood up. Oh, oh! As I stumbled back to the car (I wasn't driving), I saw one of my fellow teachers curled around the base of a tree having a nice nap.
I never did ask him about his experience, but I was hung over for three days.
Anyway, back to your report.
When I first arrived in Germany many years ago, I had never drunk wine. Lots of beer, but no wine. This was mainly because my father disapproved of drinking wine because he thought if you drank it you became a wine-o.
So my second weekend in Germany, I went to the Weinfest at Bad Durkheim and drank several large glasses of wine. That was okay until I stood up. Oh, oh! As I stumbled back to the car (I wasn't driving), I saw one of my fellow teachers curled around the base of a tree having a nice nap.
I never did ask him about his experience, but I was hung over for three days.
Anyway, back to your report.
Oct 18th, 2014, 10:37 AM
#77
Peg - I doubt if you were the first or last to suffer so at the Wurstmarkt, in fact I know you aren't. when we went so many years ago with my penfriend and her then boyfriend, HE drove us there, but SHE drove us home because he was in no fit state to do anything, let alone drive. strangely, though he spoke [and still speaks] very little english, and my DH speaks about the same level of german, that night they understood each other perfectly.
Oct 18th, 2014, 10:48 AM
#78
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I've really been enjoying your report. I visited both Goslar and Wernigerode in May, Weimar last year, and Quedlinburg in 2009. I loved Quedlinburg and also all the other towns you mentioned.
I wanted to take the train to the Brocken, but unfortunately was struck by a problem that necessitated staying close to eine Toilette, so that I was afraid to take the train.
I wanted to take the train to the Brocken, but unfortunately was struck by a problem that necessitated staying close to eine Toilette, so that I was afraid to take the train.
