Decrepit dame does Deutschland
 

I just returned from a month-long trip to eastern Germany, with a side trip to Warsaw.

The German cities I visited were Berlin, Dresden, Wernigerode, Halle, Erfurt, and Bad Schandau. The main reasons I chose these cities were 1) to do some mop-up sightseeing in places I'd previously visited but had missed things I wanted to see. 2) to polish my German in towns where English isn't so prevalent.

I took Alaska Airlines from Spokane to Seattle, then Lufthansa non-stop to Frankfurt, then Air Berlin to Berlin. As I got off the Alaska flight in Seattle, an attendant took a look at me and asked if I had ordered a wheelchair. I hadn't, but I got to thinking that a wheelchair wasn't a bad idea for when I landed in Frankfurt, which always requires a lot of walking, and I knew I'd have trouble with all the walking plus steps I'd have to climb. So I ordered a wheelchair for Frankfurt.

Turns out that it was a bad idea after all.

I've flown into Frankfurt since the late 60's. It has always been an ordeal to navigate, but I hadn't been there since 2014, when it was bigger than ever, but not horrendous. Well, it seems to have grown a lot even since then. Now it is horrendous, gigantic, enormous, unbelievable, huuuuuge--made even worse by my unwise selection of Air Berlin as the carrier for Berlin.

When I got off the plane and asked for the wheelchair or cart, I and another woman were told where to wait--for 45 minutes--until a cart came and got us. And 45 minutes was about how long we waited. All in all I got 3 wheelchairs and one electric cart, with long waits between each one.

I had figured two hours between flights was long enough to get to Air Berlin, but with the interminable waits, it looked like we'd be cutting it pretty close. I didn't have a boarding pass for Air Berlin, but after the next to the last wheelchair pusher scolded me for not allowing more time, she called Air Berlin and ordered a boarding pass. I didn't think it would be politic to tell her that I would have had enough time if I hadn't had such long waits between wheelchairs.

By the time the final girl picked me up, I didn't think we'd make it to the plane on time, but this young lady was a sweetheart. She kept assuring me that we'd get there in time for my flight, which we did, but only because she got them to wait the bus for me.

While the bus was waiting, I had to go through security, and my stuff tested positive for EXPLOSIVE RESIDUE! So while the bus out to the plane, with all the other passengers, waited, security was testing every item in my purse and in my carry on bag for explosives. They opened my sunglasses case, they checked out my tiny bottle of dry-eye drops, they even had me turn on my kindle to show them that it wasn't a fiendish device. They checked every single thing that could possibly contain any suspicious material. It was maddening! Of course, I understood that they had to be thorough, but it was still stressful.

I was embarrassed when I finally got through security and made my way to the plane. I am afraid I did exaggerate my disability somewhat when I hobbled onto the stairs leading to the plane. I figured it would be better for the morale of the passengers to think I was in very bad shape. However, stairs are always hard for me, so I wasn't exaggerating very much, and it was raining, so I was a little nervous that I'd slip and fall on the tarmac.

Once I was actually on the bus, I regretted not giving my last wheelchair girl a nice tip for all her trouble. Another wheelchair pusher met me at Berlin Tegel, and I kept telling her that I didn't need the wheelchair for such a small airport, but she insisted that I stay in the chair.

Explosive residue... do you play cards? (a little IRA Birmingham "joke" there). On for the ride.

Too bad about the long waits.

Please continue..excellent so far!!

Did they let you take you TNT-coated luggage on board? :-P

I tested positive for explosive residue once in Spokane. Apparently some lotion in my luggage contains glycerin.

I really need to check out labels to see which is the offender.

Glycerin is viewed as "explosive residue?" That is certainly something to avoid. Who knew? Thanks for the tip.

I can't wait to hear more about your adventures!

>> I regretted not giving my last wheelchair girl a nice tip for all her trouble <<

She did not expect one. She was doing her job and she gets a handsome salary for that.

But Peg, how did you not book a Lufthansa flight to Berlin?

We do not stop to tell all the newbies on this forum not to book connecting flights with different airlines. Finally, you had been lucky that everything went well. But a delay of your incoming flight would have ruined your connection, wheelchair or not. (Would not have been a big drama, just 100 or 200 Euros more to pay.)

Well I for one am glad that you finally made it to Berlin, despite the wheelchair fiasco.

keep it coming!

Fascinating reading, Peg!! Good to know about the glycerin because I always get the Positive Residue test. Now I know what to avoid.

Can't wait to read more.

Signing on. Interesting info on the wheelchair situation - I have been tempted myself on occasion. Will reconsider.

Thursdaysd: I wouldn't hesitate to request the wheelchair again, but I'd make sure I had more time between planes--3 hours, maybe.

Traveler: I think you're right about not using a different airline. In the future I'll just disregard the extra cost and go with the same airline.

I landed at Tegel and took a taxi into Berlin, where I stayed at the same hotel I always use, the Hotel Pension Bregenz. It's quiet, comfortable and inexpensive.

Then I set off to find something to eat at my favorite restaurant, LaVigna, which is just down the street from the hotel. After that I headed over to the Kurfurstendam, where there was a huge old car show--called "Oldtimers show."

I come from a family of car restorers, so I couldn't resist a visit.

The cars dated back to the 20's, but most of them were of more recent vintage. There was a gorgeous 1950 or 1951 low-riding Mercury with a dark green metallic finish and detailing in gold and darker green that got a lot of attention. It really was nifty! The car that made me cringe was a 1960 or 1961 or 1962 Cadillac with huuuuge fins.

Many of the American cars were the big ones, but there were also some Mustangs, a nice '57 Chevy Bel Air, and even a gorgeous early Thunderbird. I recall only one pickup truck--about a 1950 Chevy. There was also a man dressed as an American MP, along with his authentic postwar military police jeep that he had brought from somebody in Denmark. Another vehicle that I liked was a beautifully restored small Airstream trailer.

Of course, there were many older Mercedes and other European cars, but the ones that really stood out, for me, anyway, were the American cars, because they were usually just enormous.

After that I set off to find the Story of Berlin museum. I was especially interested in seeing the atomic bunker part of the museum. So I walked down the Kurfurstendam....and walked...and walked. I finally gave up, figuring that I was walking in the wrong direction, and I turned around and headed toward my hotel...when what did I see but an internet café.

I started to write an email to my sister, but the @ was not where it is in the States, and I couldn't remember how to print it. There was a man nearby using another computer, so I started to ask him if he knew how to access the @. We stumbled around in German for a bit, and then he asked me if I spoke English. It turned out he was an American.

I was fresh from my Frankfurt Flughafen experience, and I raved about how awful it was. He agreed. We had a long conversation about its awfulness, ending finally with a detailed discussion of WWII, the dam busters, McArthur, etc. Interesting guy.

I guess this is one of those times when I did "meet the locals," since he lives in Berlin.

You are an inspiration peg

Keep writing. I'm with you until the end!!

My little digital recorder died, so I have to depend on my emails to family, my pictures and my (unreliable) memory for details for the days.

Anyway, the second day I went to the Pergamon Museum and saw the wonderful Ishtar gate. I tend to get all pissy when I see something beautiful from the mid-east displayed in Europe (like the Elgin marbles, stolen from the Acropolis and displayed in the British Museum). But the Ishtar gate was apparently in pieces--bricks, actually--which had to be painstakingly put together and then supplemented with new bricks created to look like the originals. It was really gorgeous!

The processional way was impressive also.

There was a lot of other stuff that I'm sure was fascinating to archaeologists but wasn't fancy enough to impress me. Stone carvings and the like.

The other things that really interested me were the Islamic artifacts, especially the wonderful Korans, with exquisite calligraphy and decorations, just lovely. There were various dishes and plates and shards of pottery that were also really gorgeous, along with other beautiful objects. I wish I'd taken more pictures and kept better track of what I was seeing, but what I saw was memorable.

After I left the Pergamon, I found a helpful taxi. I mentioned the Bendler Block, where Stauffenberg and other conspirators against Hitler were executed. I wanted to say a quick prayer for them, so he waited while I dashed in for just a moment. I saw a sign for a resistance museum and decided to go there the next day.

Afterward I stopped to have dinner at possibly the most inefficient restaurant I've ever patronized.(Fortunately I can't recall the name.) There were six guys in the kitchen, but they seemed to spend most of their time yelling at each other--or perhaps they were merely chatting at the tops of their voices. Waiting on customers didn't seem to be among their priorities.

I had a salad of tomatoes with red onion and (I think) basilikum. I'm not sure why anybody would eat basilikum because it's kind of bitter. I also had foccacia with cheese on top. Very tasty. And two little bottles of orange drink.

The nice thing about the lousy service is that I was able to sit for a long time, thus resting my legs.

That day was full of lessons. One was that I can't seem to do more than one thing a day. Then I'm really really tired--especially my legs--and I have to take taxis. Actually, two taxis, one going and one returning--at $20 a pop. Oh, well, that's what it takes for me. I just have to resign myself to the fact that I can't do all I'd like to do.

The next day I started out to visit "The Story of Berlin" museum--well, actually, the part that is the atomic bunker. I was right next door to it, but I wanted to have a cappucchino at this sidewalk café. I ordered my coffee and shortly thereafter a little old lady asked me if the other chair was occupied. It turned out that she spoke English as well as German--she was Swedish.

She was also very interesting to talk to, and darned if I didn't sit there for two or three more hours talking to her. She lives in Berlin and has done so for many years. I finally tore myself away and went to the bunker, which was oppressive and revealing. (The rest of the place wasn't up to much. I wouldn't recommend it.)

After hearing the measures that were taken to ensure that the people survived and the conditions under which they lived for the two weeks they would stay in the bunker, I began to wonder how well my neighbors thought out the backyard shelters they created. I decided that they probably wouldn't have survived a week. They didn't have air filtration systems or other survival strategies. When I got home, I asked the neighbor who now lives in one of the shelters. She says it's good for storing potatoes, carrots, onions, etc.

I walked back through the "Old-timers" car show again. I looked again at the blue 1960-62 Cadillac with the huge fins. I wonder why anyone would restore a car like that. Perhaps because it would be a really exotic specimen to Germans, as well as a pretty appalling example of consumer culture. In the States, gasoline cost 31 cents a gallon in 1970, but gasoline in Germany was much more expensive then. Americans who worked for the U.S. army in Germany received coupons for use at Esso gas stations that made gas even cheaper for us than it was in the States.

But I digress.

Digress away, Peg. you're not the only one who finds sight-seeing hard work. I only keep going with generous and frequent amounts of food and drink .

Nice that you got to talk to some locals - it's one of the advantages of solo travel I think, and much more difficult if you are a couple.

Wonderful, as usual, Peg.

I love it Peg. I'm now in Torgau (where Joe and Ivan met in 1945, april).

Just one comment - I very much prefer Schoenefeld airport to Tegel. Small and on a S or U-bahn, direction Berlin.

Peg, love your reports. You always have such interesting adventures. Please continue.

Yes Peg - as usual sweet attitude and you show it is far more than the famous museums that are the real joys of traveling abroad.

waiting with patience for any train remarks!

Cheers!

"Elgin marbles, stolen from the Acropolis" bought and paid for

Though not so sure about the Venus de Milo ;-)

>>not so sure about the Venus de Milo<<

Ah, but she's 'armless.

Just as a side remark:

The Pergamon and its Museum of Islamic Art are very popular with refugees from Iraq and Syria.
It's probably a bittersweet experience to see one's own cultural heritage taken away from the homeland, but also still there and being admired and not bombed to rubbles.
http://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-35976090

Patrick: That was really bad! And I doubt that you drop your h's, anyway.

Cowboy: Thanks for the link. That was really inspiring.

So the next day was Sunday, and I went to Mass at St.Ludwig's, which is not far from my hotel. I figured something special was in the works because four priests processed in, along with a bizillion altarkids. Sure enough, it was the first Mass for the young Dominican with the gaggle of priests who came in together.

There was a choir, which wasn't really necessary because the Germans are such good singers, but I guess it added some volumne. I got a hymn book and tried to sing along, but they pronounce words so differenly that I didn't do much good. The Kyrie, for instance, was beyond me.

I had brought a little Mass book so that I could follow the readings but had a little trouble. As a matter of fact, I couldn't even find the readings for June 5. The closest I could get was June 7. I finally noticed that it was a bilingual English-Spanish Missal, and when I finally looked at the front I realized that it was the 2015 Missal I'd taken to Puerta Vallarta in November. When I got back to the room, I found the one I'd meant to take to St.Ludwig's.

Not too swift!

So anyway, for the consecration, the priests called the children up to stand around the altar, which caused a little drama. One man told his little girl to go up, but she was too shy. So then he went up with her and stayed with her, and it was okay. During the Lord's prayer (when everyone holds hands), one little boy dutifully tried to take the hand of the girl next to him, but she wasn't having any of that hand-holding business, and she pushed his hand away.

At the end of the Mass, two priests took turns each singing a verse of a song of celebration, most of which I didn't understand, except "St. René, pray for us." (The young priest's first name was René.) They both had beautiful tenor voices. Maybe that's a requirement for German priests.

After the Mass, there was a little party outside the church for the new priest. At my church, we have coffee and donuts. At St. Ludwig's, they have champagne--or really Sekt, which is what they call a champagne-like sparkling wine.

Love love love reading of your adventures, Peg!

PalenQ- if you want train remarks, I can do a mini report of one day's adventure last week....aarrgghh.

I wanted to go to Staufenbergstrasse to see the resistance museum at the Bendler Block, where Staufenberg and other conspirators were executed. I couldn't find a taxi, and finally when a bus came along, I decided to use the pass I'd bought the day before and ride the bus. I was a little nervous about being able to get off at the right stop, but like so many of life's worries, it was for naught.

At first everything went well. Then we got partway to Staufenbergstrasse and had to stop because there were thousands of bicyclists riding on the other side of the street. Thousands and thousands and thousands! After we had waited half an hour or 45 minutes, I asked the driver how far it was to Staufenbergstrasse. He said that in the time we'd been waiting, I could have walked there. He gave me directions as to how to get there, so I decided to set off.

The first problem was how to get across the street because those effing bicycles were still thronging the street. Finally there was a brief let-up in the bicycle traffic and I was able to dodge between the riders to the other side of the street.

It was sprinkling a little but I was glad of that because it had been so hot. I asked a policeman which street I should go down, and he sent me in the right direction. It started to rain a little more heavily, so I tried to walk under trees for protection.

Then it started to pour down, and it poured and poured and poured. I dodged a few feet to a building whose steps were protected from the rain and sat there for a while, hoping it would let up. I felt like I was pretty close to my destination, but it just kept raining, so I gave up. I dragged my poor tired, wet body down to a hotel I'd passed where I'd seen a taxi and went home.

I was soaked through and through. My hair, my jacket, my shirt front, my pants front, my socks, may shoes.

Here endeth my Berlin adventures. I have to say that I love Berlin. I've visited it many times, beginning in 1966, but I can always go back because there's always something to see.

My next stop would be Warsaw via a long train ride.

Whatthehello: How did I miss Torgau? I knew that was where the Americans and Russians met, but I can't find it on my map of Germany. There are so many small towns in that area that it is hidden from me. It's near Leipzig, isn't it?

Did you ever find out what all the bicycles were about?

BTW, the maps app on a smart phone entirely does away with the worry about where to get off.

Pegontheroad:
Love reading your TRs, especially the humorous take on the trials and tribulations of solo senior travel. Bravo to your fortitude and adventurous spirit. I totally identify with the ups and downs that go along with the determination to travel for as long as the old legs hold up.

>They both had beautiful tenor voices. Maybe that's a requirement for German priests.<

Hihihi, this made my more than smile. I'd like to offer you a bet: if you come next time to southern Germany, I will convince you of the opposite on a single sunday. There are very few priests nowadays who can chant decently ...

Thank you for your entertaining report!

Thursdaysd: No, I never found out what the bicycles were all about. I think it's just that darned healthiness the Germans are all about. There are bicycles all over, and if the area is appropriate, hikers. More about that later.

I may have to break down and get a smart phone after all. I've tried to resist any more electronics, but perhaps I should just give up and go with the rest of the world. I finally got a tablet and was okay in Berlin but couldn't seem to get it to work right after that.

Guess it's time to call in "tech support" (aka my nephew Greg) again.

I got a hymn book and tried to sing along, but they pronounce words so differenly that I didn't do much good. The Kyrie, for instance, was beyond me.>>

you're right, Peg, that Germans pronounce the words of the latin mass differently to how we do - it takes a bit of getting used to but it's ok after that.
Harder was what we had to do recently for the Brahms German Requiem which was to use the german pronunciation of Brahms' time. [or an approximation thereof]; it was bad enough for me, and murder for the non-german speakers in the choir. And frankly, completely lost on our non-german speaking audience!

apart from that, I'm still here "pedalling" along with you!

Peg, I am really enjoying your trip and all of your adventures. You are an inspiration. Looking forward to the rest.

Peg..

You got caught in the annual bicycle rally.
It's a demonstration to support cyclists' demands for more bike lanes etc. and is the biggest one in the world with appr. 200K participants.
It happens - as the name suggests - just once a year.

Torgau, I was there 4 weeks ago, the castle is pretty, but of course this is just where the colonels upwards first met, The troops met the day before over the river.

Yes Bilbo. Torgau is abaout halfway between Leipzig and Dresden (two of my favourite cities in Germany), 2 hours and 3 flashes by car from Berlin (last bloody camera was on a 4 lane highway type 500 m from airport, opposite way but I went there to fill up the tank and avoid charges at rental... good move).

Anyway, castle is nice, but you must prepare better than I did : the stairs are beautiful, not unlike Blois or Amboise, but as in many places in Germany 'rococco' style. Then I went up 105 wooden stairs to get a view from the tower and there is a small museum there on top. Arrived at the top you have an automatic door that lets you through with a 1€ piece. Which I hadn't. Back down, rereading the poster : Auschliessend is of course exclusively and 1€ Muenze (or close) means... a piece of 1€, now I know it.

I then visited an exhibition - paid 8€ to see some old robes and swords and a exposition of modern art that I profoundly dislike, found the lapidarium where I was told I had to pay again, turned back, wanted by then to re-climb the stairs and realized I had a been given a one 2€ piece, not 2 1€ pieces. Decided God didn"t want me to go up and left for good...

Mfg

>>> champagne--or really Sekt, which is what they call a champagne-like sparkling wine <<<

There is an interesting story about the word "Sekt". It happened in November 1825 at Lutter & Wegner, a restaurant on the Gendarmenmarkt which is still in operation and quite popular.

The actor Ludwig Devrient, just having played in Shakespeare's Henry IV., entered his favourite restaurant, and still being Falstaff, yelled at the waiter "Gib mir ein Glass Sekt, Schurke" ("Give me a cup of sack, rogue!").

Sack was translated "Sekt" in the German version. But the waiter knew that Devrient never drunk anything else than champagne, so he brought him a glass champagne instead of sherry. The phrase "Sekt" for champagne became a running gag at Lutter & Wegner and eventually in whole Berlin and spread over Germany.

Today, the term "champagne" is legally reserved for sparkling wines which are made within the region of Champagne, France. So, with "Sekt" we mean German sparkling wine.

Traveler: Thanks for filling me in.

So I set off for Warsaw. Thanks to information from the Man in Seat 61, I took the Berlin-Warsaw express, which took about five and a half hours. My 6 skinny-person compartment was pretty crowded, so eventually I headed out to the restaurant car and had a meal of schnitzel, potatoes,and (I think) salad.

I sat at the same table as two nice American boys--"boys" being the term I use to refer to any male under 40. They were fun to talk to, but I don't recall what we talked about or anything much about them.

My hotel was the Hampton Inn by Hilton. I was given a handicapped room for some reason, and I didn't attempt to change it. I had reserved the room 4 months ahead of time, so it's hard to believe that was the only room available, but I hadn't known what a "handicapped" room entailed, so I didn't fuss.

The closet was way low down, at the level that a person in a wheelchair would use. The shower had a seat and was closed in by shower curtains, which meant that water coursed over the area around it. For some reason I always feel guilty when I get water all over the floor. Probably the result of Catholic school.

Other than that, it was okay. The thing about hotels is that I never know when they're going to pull a fast one--with the bathtub stuck under an eave, so that it's hard for me to stand up to shower, or the sides of the tub are high enough that I'm afraid I'll slip and break a leg when I climb out. Or the toilet is so close to the wall that when you sit on it, your knees are only 2 inches from the wall.

As Gilda Radner said, "It's always something."

As I said, it was okay. The staff was helpful and courteous, and my stay was pleasant. I'd probably stay there again, since the price was right.

The first afternoon I took a taxi to the Old Town, which was very attractive. I wandered around for a while and ordered perogi (spelling?) and a drink at an outside café. Ordering perogi was very daring of me, because I'm suspicious of any food more exotic than roast beef and mashed potatoes. (My childhood on a farm in North Dakota is responsible for that.)

The next day was really the highlight of the stay in Warsaw--the WWII tour.