I was very excited to find that our nearest bakery had published a free flyer on all the breads they carry in stock! It is somewhat daunting, as you are standing in line, to actually peruse the selection. When you reach the front, you are expected to know what you want, order quickly, have something near the correct amount in small bills and/or change, and move on out, because the German bread is soooo good that there are almost always people waiting, or the bakers have to scurry back and keep the fresh bread coming.
At first, we only ordered Brotchen, which is what I would have called a kaiser roll back in the States, or a baguette, a simple loaf of French bread. Of course, I would never utter the words "kaiser roll" or "French bread" in Germany! What is that about the kaiser? the locals would wonder. We are not French! Nor is the bread! they might think indignantly.
Branching out to Ciabatta -- truly Italian -- and then a brave step to Halbweiss (half-white, half-wheat) or Bauernbrot (farmer's bread) was about it for me. No way was I going to step out for Kastenweissbrot or Holzklotzle without a little research! And now the path is open. I have not yet begun my research as to what these actually are, but at least I can parse the mysteries of Glyx Brot in the privacy of my own home.
Any recommendations? They are welcome!
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Thick Wool Stockings
It is beyond me how the first American settlers ever made it through a Virginia summer, much less the Texas heat, in their traditional European dress. Now that I am here, however, I can completely see it: in summer you might have a linen dress for the hottest two months of the year.
September through May, or even June, you would be thrilled to have layer upon layer of wool! It is just after Labor Day here and I am chilled to the bone in the mornings and evenings if I go out without a fleece jacket. And sadly, I cannot blame this on being extremely thin or poor circulation – the damp chill is in the air to stay until spring, perhaps with a week or two of respite in the fall if we are lucky.
So you see the girls dress in modern variant of these layers:
-strumpfhose, those same heavy wool stockings, but with stripes and updated prints
-a flouncy skirt, but it stays above the knee instead of going to the lower calf
-an undershirt
-a long-sleeved shirt
-a fleece jacket or down vest instead of the traditional dirndl top
-boots and clogs are still very popular as shoe choices, although the boots tend to look like English riding boots instead of Oma’s laced up style
September through May, or even June, you would be thrilled to have layer upon layer of wool! It is just after Labor Day here and I am chilled to the bone in the mornings and evenings if I go out without a fleece jacket. And sadly, I cannot blame this on being extremely thin or poor circulation – the damp chill is in the air to stay until spring, perhaps with a week or two of respite in the fall if we are lucky.
So you see the girls dress in modern variant of these layers:
-strumpfhose, those same heavy wool stockings, but with stripes and updated prints
-a flouncy skirt, but it stays above the knee instead of going to the lower calf
-an undershirt
-a long-sleeved shirt
-a fleece jacket or down vest instead of the traditional dirndl top
-boots and clogs are still very popular as shoe choices, although the boots tend to look like English riding boots instead of Oma’s laced up style
Friday, September 11, 2009
Stopoff at St. Gallen
Apparently the monks from St. Gallen, now in Switzerland, travelled all over southern Germany, because we have seen countless paintings and carvings depicting their sailing about. So when we realized that we were passing through on the way home, we felt compelled to stop.
Note to travellers: It is not wise to stop in a city short on parking when you have a cartop carrier strapped to the top of the vehicle. All we could find without going into a garage -- a potentially disastrous scenario -- was one-hour meter parking. Well, we were only planning on two hours, so we figured we would go for it.
St. Gallen is a great city! I think we could have spent a whole day there, shopping and wandering around the halbwerk houses and shops. Instead, we rushed through them and found a giant beautiful cathedral. The interiors of many German churches were either pillaged or destroyed during the Reformation and later iconoclastic movement, so it was so refreshing to see a church in all its glory -- although in honesty, I think that it was Baroque and so built and decorated after that Reformation.
We had heard that the library was fantastic, and in the same monastery complex, so we found it and went inside. They have handwritten books over 1000 years old! It was a two-story room with many windows and benches for reading, and books lining the walls in what were basically 50-foot bookcases, with a gallery built around at a second-floor height. It was not large, but was really gorgeous for bibliophiles like ourselves.
Note to travellers: Also, there are very clean and free bathrooms at the monastery!
Then we raced back to the car, only a few minutes past our allotted parking time, and wiggled our way back to the highway, back home. The main train station is right in the heart of things and I would recommend stopping there for anyone going through.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Schlaf im Stroh, "sleeping in straw," is a hands-on way to experience Swiss farm life. For a family of five visiting a country where hotel rooms routinely allow only two people, perhaps with a toddler added in, it was a fun and less expensive way to visit rural Switzerland. As luck would have it, this particular farm was only a five minute walk from Heidihof and the Heidi museum.
The program started as a way for farmers to supplement their income while their cows were in the high pastures during the summer. "Beds" – literally space in the hay areas – could be reserved for a low cost and in the morning, guests receive breakfast.
At Herr and Frau Just’s farm, we were shown to a little hut between the barn and main house which was probably much like the Alm Uncle’s hut from Heidi: there was one main room, with a Kleiderschrank (closet) filled with extra bedding, available for a fee, a table with a corner bench and some chairs, and two sets of bunk beds. Up some narrow stairs, there was a bit of a hayloft: to the left and to the right were sleeping areas piled deep with hay and a very large sheet spread out over each area – enough space for our entire family to comfortably fit on just the right side. Additionally, over the main room was a loft accessible by ladder with large blue mattresses, with space for 8 more people.
This space was not wasted our first night! A university student travelling about on her own showed up and took one bunk; then later, two families with a total of four adults and seven additional children came, taking up the extra bunk space and the other sleeping loft. In the U.S., this would be extremely awkward, but in Europe, it was very matter of fact – think about elevator etiquette and boundaries, and extend it to a small hut.
Breakfast was not a giant spread, as we have had in German hostels, but was delicious and plentiful. There was coffee, hot water and teabags, and – to my children’s delight! – fresh milk from the cow, heated up to mix with Ovaltine or Nestle Quik to make tasty hot chocolate. Plenty of fresh bread, butter, homemade blackberry jam and jelly, thin-sliced local cured bacon, and fresh local cheese – well, really wonderful.
Overall, a lovely experience as a novelty, but probably not something we will repeat – it was definitely more comfortable than camping and would be perfect for the wandering hiker, but for a family, it is better for us to have a private space to which we can retreat at the end of the day.
The program started as a way for farmers to supplement their income while their cows were in the high pastures during the summer. "Beds" – literally space in the hay areas – could be reserved for a low cost and in the morning, guests receive breakfast.
At Herr and Frau Just’s farm, we were shown to a little hut between the barn and main house which was probably much like the Alm Uncle’s hut from Heidi: there was one main room, with a Kleiderschrank (closet) filled with extra bedding, available for a fee, a table with a corner bench and some chairs, and two sets of bunk beds. Up some narrow stairs, there was a bit of a hayloft: to the left and to the right were sleeping areas piled deep with hay and a very large sheet spread out over each area – enough space for our entire family to comfortably fit on just the right side. Additionally, over the main room was a loft accessible by ladder with large blue mattresses, with space for 8 more people.
This space was not wasted our first night! A university student travelling about on her own showed up and took one bunk; then later, two families with a total of four adults and seven additional children came, taking up the extra bunk space and the other sleeping loft. In the U.S., this would be extremely awkward, but in Europe, it was very matter of fact – think about elevator etiquette and boundaries, and extend it to a small hut.
Breakfast was not a giant spread, as we have had in German hostels, but was delicious and plentiful. There was coffee, hot water and teabags, and – to my children’s delight! – fresh milk from the cow, heated up to mix with Ovaltine or Nestle Quik to make tasty hot chocolate. Plenty of fresh bread, butter, homemade blackberry jam and jelly, thin-sliced local cured bacon, and fresh local cheese – well, really wonderful.
Overall, a lovely experience as a novelty, but probably not something we will repeat – it was definitely more comfortable than camping and would be perfect for the wandering hiker, but for a family, it is better for us to have a private space to which we can retreat at the end of the day.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Heidi in the Swiss Alps
Heidi made me want to stretch out in the Alpine meadows, explore the Alm Uncle's mountain hut, traipse through Dorfli, and chase goats with Peter. Over Labor Day weekend, we were able to visit Maienfeld, the real town which is the setting for the fictional character of Heidi.
Starting at the Heidi museum, we were able to poke around the Heidihaus, which was much more than the one-room hut described as the Alm Uncle's. Perhaps it would be more like the house where she lived with Dete? It was very authentically furnished and decked out, the kids could touch and try much of the things inside -- try on Heidi's red shawl! -- and more importantly, did not require a long hike.
After stretching our legs outside the gift shop and seeing the freely wandering goats (who quite enjoy the picnic table as a goat-sofa), we began our climb up the mountain. The stroller was quickly abandoned for the initial rocky, somewhat steep path. Our toddler was buoyed onward by the fresh ripe blackberries growing along the side of the trail. We were delighted to find one wayside marker had cold running spring water marked Trinkwasser -- safe for drinking. Eventually, after about an hour of our slow progress, we reached a fork: continue to Heidi's meadow or veer left to Peter's Hut, promising ice cream, beer, and cake? Reader, we veered.
Peter's Hut is operated by the house's inhabitants. We think they moved the modern addition, and turned the original house into the hut/cafe area, but this does not detract from its charm, or the delight in resting your legs and refreshing yourself while looking over the lovely valley.
Having seen the sign to "Peter's Hut" on another walk, we asked the lady if taking the path further onward would be the quickest way back down. Happily it was, especially since our toddler was about to fall asleep in our arms.
Overall, a very enjoyable afternoon, especially since the weather was in our favor. I recommend hiking shoes, backpack carriers for babies, and definitely a camera.
Starting at the Heidi museum, we were able to poke around the Heidihaus, which was much more than the one-room hut described as the Alm Uncle's. Perhaps it would be more like the house where she lived with Dete? It was very authentically furnished and decked out, the kids could touch and try much of the things inside -- try on Heidi's red shawl! -- and more importantly, did not require a long hike.
After stretching our legs outside the gift shop and seeing the freely wandering goats (who quite enjoy the picnic table as a goat-sofa), we began our climb up the mountain. The stroller was quickly abandoned for the initial rocky, somewhat steep path. Our toddler was buoyed onward by the fresh ripe blackberries growing along the side of the trail. We were delighted to find one wayside marker had cold running spring water marked Trinkwasser -- safe for drinking. Eventually, after about an hour of our slow progress, we reached a fork: continue to Heidi's meadow or veer left to Peter's Hut, promising ice cream, beer, and cake? Reader, we veered.
Peter's Hut is operated by the house's inhabitants. We think they moved the modern addition, and turned the original house into the hut/cafe area, but this does not detract from its charm, or the delight in resting your legs and refreshing yourself while looking over the lovely valley.
Having seen the sign to "Peter's Hut" on another walk, we asked the lady if taking the path further onward would be the quickest way back down. Happily it was, especially since our toddler was about to fall asleep in our arms.
Overall, a very enjoyable afternoon, especially since the weather was in our favor. I recommend hiking shoes, backpack carriers for babies, and definitely a camera.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Honesty and Your Electric Bill
Today I mailed in the reading on my electric meter. It may not sound like a dramatic opening statement, but think about this: no one in Germany comes to read my meter. Instead, I write down the numbers on the meter from the fusebox myself on a little preprinted postcard that has my account number written on it, and then send it back merrily to the authorities.
Happily, we have plenty of money stashed aside for our utility payments. Also, we know that when we move out, the reading will be taken by our landlords and the Rechnung (bill) will then be settled, so there is no point in deception. (By the way, that statement: "There'll come a reckoning!" -- I think it must really mean, "There'll come a Rechnung!" in the sense of "He who dances must pay the piper.)
What if, however, I were going to live here for 30 or 40 or 70 years, presumably until I died of old age or became so senile that I would no longer care about the electric bill? Are there Germans who note their reading on a scrap of paper inside the fusebox, and come next 1st of September, perhaps artificially lower the reading by a believable amount -- say, 10% or so -- and continue to do so, year after year? Do their families, after the funeral, come to settle Opa's account and discover the electric bill fraud, all in arrears? Do families short on cash play this game, hoping that the next year they will be able to compensate?
There seems to be no delicate way to ask this question. It either seems to imply that I think Germans are likely to cheat the system, or casts a shadow on me for having these dark and deceptive thoughts. After all, with only 6000 people in the village, the last thing I need is gossip about that American lady who falsifies her electric bill! -- especially since I don't!
Happily, we have plenty of money stashed aside for our utility payments. Also, we know that when we move out, the reading will be taken by our landlords and the Rechnung (bill) will then be settled, so there is no point in deception. (By the way, that statement: "There'll come a reckoning!" -- I think it must really mean, "There'll come a Rechnung!" in the sense of "He who dances must pay the piper.)
What if, however, I were going to live here for 30 or 40 or 70 years, presumably until I died of old age or became so senile that I would no longer care about the electric bill? Are there Germans who note their reading on a scrap of paper inside the fusebox, and come next 1st of September, perhaps artificially lower the reading by a believable amount -- say, 10% or so -- and continue to do so, year after year? Do their families, after the funeral, come to settle Opa's account and discover the electric bill fraud, all in arrears? Do families short on cash play this game, hoping that the next year they will be able to compensate?
There seems to be no delicate way to ask this question. It either seems to imply that I think Germans are likely to cheat the system, or casts a shadow on me for having these dark and deceptive thoughts. After all, with only 6000 people in the village, the last thing I need is gossip about that American lady who falsifies her electric bill! -- especially since I don't!
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Vinzenzifest
In a theme to be repeated often, we had a plan! for Sunday, only to find that one of our key assumptions was in error -- but happily, this often works out just as well.
We thought we were going to a wine festival, since it was listed as such in our local English paper. Also, Vin translates to "wine," and this was named Vinzenzifest. So off we went to Wendlingen am Neckar, found a parking place of dubious legality, and strode off in the same direction as everyone else towards the town center.
It was lovely! Fest tables all about, oompah bands playing, tons of people in tracht, traditional German dresses and lederhosen, and plenty of.... beer? Where was all the wine?
Well, not to let a good time go by, we walked about, found a table, procured pommes (French fries) and bier, and chatted with the Germans next to us. Fest tables can seat about sixteen people in all, which either means your entire club can share a table or two, or you will inevitably sit next to people you don't know and end up being friendly. It's quite a good theory!
We found out that it was not Vin-zenzifest, but rather Vinzenzi-fest -- that is, in honor of St. Vincent. As to why it is called Birnsonntag, literally Pear Sunday, our tablemates had no idea. I've googled it only to find references to Vincenzifest.
At 1330 the opening shots to the parade were fired. We ambled towards the end of the parade route, in a residential neighborhood near where our car was parked, hoping to find a spot in the shade that wasn't too crowded. Happily, this worked out nicely, and we began to watch the Umzug, which was the reason for so many people wearing tracht : it was, in fact, a parade of traditional costumes & life in Germany.
How delightful! Four or five farmers' groups handed out fresh fruit to the children -- grapes, plums, little apple-plums. There were, of course, many bands, and several large carts pulled by draft horses, advertising beer. There were even groups from the Netherlands and Wales, and to our surprise, a group marching with an American Confederate flag dressed for "Gone With the Wind." My favorite was to watch a group of men & women carrying arches of greenery dance and to see how the arches intertwined in the dance; I had thought they were merely ornamental.
Hope you enjoyed the pictures and vicariously coming along with us on our Sunday afternoon!
We thought we were going to a wine festival, since it was listed as such in our local English paper. Also, Vin translates to "wine," and this was named Vinzenzifest. So off we went to Wendlingen am Neckar, found a parking place of dubious legality, and strode off in the same direction as everyone else towards the town center.
It was lovely! Fest tables all about, oompah bands playing, tons of people in tracht, traditional German dresses and lederhosen, and plenty of.... beer? Where was all the wine?
Well, not to let a good time go by, we walked about, found a table, procured pommes (French fries) and bier, and chatted with the Germans next to us. Fest tables can seat about sixteen people in all, which either means your entire club can share a table or two, or you will inevitably sit next to people you don't know and end up being friendly. It's quite a good theory!
We found out that it was not Vin-zenzifest, but rather Vinzenzi-fest -- that is, in honor of St. Vincent. As to why it is called Birnsonntag, literally Pear Sunday, our tablemates had no idea. I've googled it only to find references to Vincenzifest.
At 1330 the opening shots to the parade were fired. We ambled towards the end of the parade route, in a residential neighborhood near where our car was parked, hoping to find a spot in the shade that wasn't too crowded. Happily, this worked out nicely, and we began to watch the Umzug, which was the reason for so many people wearing tracht : it was, in fact, a parade of traditional costumes & life in Germany.
How delightful! Four or five farmers' groups handed out fresh fruit to the children -- grapes, plums, little apple-plums. There were, of course, many bands, and several large carts pulled by draft horses, advertising beer. There were even groups from the Netherlands and Wales, and to our surprise, a group marching with an American Confederate flag dressed for "Gone With the Wind." My favorite was to watch a group of men & women carrying arches of greenery dance and to see how the arches intertwined in the dance; I had thought they were merely ornamental.
Hope you enjoyed the pictures and vicariously coming along with us on our Sunday afternoon!
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