Superb Holiday – Berlin 2018

[freelunch]

My wife and I have been touring Europe for the past 25 years on a motorcycle. The internet and digital cameras made it easy to post trip reports, mainly on a sport-touring website. I got in the habit. We just took our first real trip abroad in the Sportline. I thought, well, I can't very well post a trip report on the old bikers' site. So, I asked ColinD. He said post in the Projects forum, then he would get around to creating a Trip Report forum. 

 

Apologies in advance: I write too long and in chronological order, because a couple years from now I want to read this and remember what the heck I got up to! It's memory and advanced years, ken? It took me longer to write the following and edit the photos than it did to take the nine-day trip to Berlin. I'm linking photos from photobucket, so there may be some trial and error before this gets ready to read.

 

Ready?

 

Berlin – April 2018

Day 1. London to Leuven to Köln (or Cologne or Koeln, as it says on my bank statement)

This was our second trip to the Continent on four wheels. Driving on the wrong side of the road proved easier than I thought, the car adjusts the lights for driving on the right automatically and I can reset the speedo to read KPH. Fully European. I wonder if my Czech-built, German car will switch back to MPH after Brexit?

 

The evening before we left, I washed the car, set each tyre at 37 psi, filled the window wash bottle and checked all the other fluids. I made ready my “clean air” window stickers for France and Berlin, programmed the Sat/Nav with all my lunch and hotel destinations and stuck my magnetic GB oval on the left side of my boot lid. I have a little GB symbol on my number plate, but I wanted to make real sure the driver behind me knew I was on the wrong side of the car.

 

We set off at 7 am and got to the Eurotunnel in plenty of time for the loo and last minute shopping: mints, water and our last English newspaper for nine days. 

 

The gorgeous blonde I travel with (TGBITW) reads her last newspaper for the next nine days on Le Shuttle.

 

The train arrived in Calais on time and we were soon zooming by Dunkirk, Bruges, Ghent, Brussels and arriving for lunch, as scheduled, in Leuven. Why? Because we’ve never been there before and it was lunchtime.

 

The sat/nav got me to my programmed location, but I couldn’t see the car park. We could only find a 45-minute space, so we grabbed it and ate at the first restaurant we came found. (De Kruimel, Teinsestraat 92.) 

 

What do you speak when you can manage phrase book Spanish, Italian, French and German, but not Flemish? I ordered in English and English came back. The wafer-thin, ultra crispy Wiener schnitzel tasted okay, but I knew better was to come.

 

The parking situation precluded a stroll into the old market square, so we were soon back on the road to Köln, still not having really visited Leuven. Turns out, if I had driven 50 meters further than the sat/nav instructed, we’d have seen the underground car park just around the corner and spent a couple hours wandering around Leuven. Next time...

 

So, we got to Köln early. The sat/nav, which we affectionately call Susan, stopped us in front of the Hotel Im Kupferkessel (Room 10. 2 nights). But, Susan couldn’t clear a parking spot for us and I had to unload while parked in the middle of the narrow one-way street.

 

I ran in to get the keys for our reserved parking space and promptly got lost in the one-way system trying to find the lot that was the wrong way just around the corner. In the meantime, Markus carried our two monstrous new suitcases up to our fourth floor walkup. A stroke of luck for me! (Bad luck for Markus.)

 

Sidebar: I don’t know how we travelled for up to a month on the motorcycle with two panniers, a top box and a tank bag. We could have got everything we packed on the bike into one of our suitcases. I guess you fill up the available space, and the Škoda’s boot is huge. After nine days, we came home with things we hadn’t worn.

 

Sidebar 2: On the bike, I prided myself on being able to navigate by compass, map and making notes I could place on the tank bag in front of me. We’d occasionally have to stop and get a map out to correct when I (hardly ever, honest) took a wrong turn, but we always managed.

 

Sat/Nav is a whole new thing for me, and I absolutely love it. I program in the GPS coordinates and the car arrives at exaclty that spot. Twice on this trip, Susan announced that the route had been changed owing to “current traffic conditions”. I followed her instructions without question and, although we got onto some pretty obscure roads and wondered if this was absolutley necessary, we always got to where we needed to go at the time we expected to be there. I’m hoping I don’t end up driving into a lake some day, on Susan’s command.

 

Anyway, we unpacked and freshened up, then headed for the first bar we could find. The Gilden Kölsch was just across the road. We had Kölsch (what else?) and Sekt, German sparkling wine. The place was busy with office workers and neighbours. The landlady smiled at my German and we sat at the bar for a couple. Um, Kölsch and Sekt both come in really small glasses.

 

Sidebar: Kölsch is only brewed in and around Köln. It is a clear, top-fermented beer with a bright, straw-yellow hue similar to other beers brewed from mainly Pilsener malt. If you order beer here, that’s what you get. I probably prefer the bottom-fermented Pilseners, but would be served those anywhere else in Germany, so I drank Kölsch. It’s fairly strong, hence the small glasses.

 

St. Gereon, Köln. Next to the Gilden Kölsch and our hotel.

St. Gereon entrance detail.

St. Gereon door detail.

 

Now, we had umbrellas open. This was to become a recurring theme. The Dom was closed for the day, so we resolved to come back in the morning and attention turned to our stomachs. We spotted Cafe Reichard opposite the cathedral (Unter Fettenhennen 11.). We got to the restaurant via a spectacular shop of tempting treats and elected to eat indoors, as the weather outside was Scheisse.

 

Kölner Dom (Cologne Cathedral)

 

We should have been thinking about supper, but after passing all those sweets and pastries, we had coffee, tea and Apfelstrudel (apple) and Marillenstrudel (apricot).

 

This was very nice, but absolutely ruined us for dinner which followed too soon after. We stuffed our faces and I knew the custard sauce was going to haunt me later. We watched the brave diners outside scrurry under vast umbrellas.

 

The rain let up and we walked to the river. It was twilight and the city lights were coming on, the computer-programmed ferris wheel across the river flashing at us like a fruit machine, tourists taking happy snaps. Loads of tourists on this walkway along the riverside. I was asked by strangers to take photos when selfies just wouldn’t do. We wandered for a bit, then settled into one of the restaurants on my list (Haxenhaus zum Rheingarten, Frankewerft 19).

 

Sidebar: I had lists for everything. I printed out Google maps of each of the city centres we’d be visiting, with restaurants and art galleries marked on them. I can make a 9-day trip last at least three months.

 

Now sat in a very traditional German restaurant, we weren’t hungry. The waiter had to come back twice before we could decide on things that looked like they might be small portions. There are no small portions in Germany. I settled on a glass of local brew and 1/2 meter coil of homemade Bratwurst with sauerkraut and roast potatos with bits of bacon. The sausage was “hausgemacht”, special local pig, almost too lean. The sauerkraut was delicious, with dill seed and peppercorns. The potatos roasted then fried in butter (I’m guessing). It was all heavenly. I ate half. Jo had a Caesar salad with half a chicken on top and a glass of Riesling. She ate half.

 

Haxenhaus zum Rheingarten, Frankewerft 19

Haxenhaus. This was really good

 

I had a wander around the Haxenhaus. It was like an old neighbourhood pub, dark wood, tiles, rough sturdy tables. There was a really old ceiling-high fireplace surround/cabinet that looked quite valuable. Then, I noticed the flood photos. The water was almost six feet deep in the main room. The landlord who engaged me in conversation, said the mantelpiece was the most difficult thing to save, but save it they did. The Rhine.

 

The waiter asked if we’d like another drink, as it was tipping it down outside. We were afraid we’d burst if we had any more and, umbrellas up, made a run for it. He wasn’t kidding, either. However, I did have a cocktail bar on my list that should have been on the way home. I rather hoped it would be in the Bahnhof, because it was dry in there. But, alas, we never found it. We got soaked on the fifteen minute forced march back to the hotel.

[freelunch]

Day 2 – Köln

 

We discovered the hotel’s fatal flaw when we got to bed – road noise. And, Jo likes the window open. It was very quiet from 1:30-4:30 am, I know. When the traffic started up again, I got up and shut the window. Jo was none the wiser.

 

Breakfast was included in the price. What a nice surprise! We got the standard German spread: juices, cheeses, meats (cured and raw) liverwurst, yogurts, butters, jams, various breads, decent coffee and the waitress brought us each a perfectly boiled egg.

 

I was enjoying all this and having a look around the busy breakfast room. Single business women outnumbered the touring couples. We wondered at the young English woman, who took her platter from the table to the waitress, announced that she was vegetarian and demanded that the waitress remove all the meat. I can understand “won’t eat meat” but “meat phobia”? In Germany? We left before things got militant. 

 

We stopped by reception on our way out and Sandra told us to go to The Flora (botanical garden). We didn’t need our arms twisted, but we did elect to walk instead of take the tram. 

 

We went via the Dom. Köln was largely flattened during the war, but the twin spires of the cathedral were important navigational aids, so it was left standing, much like St. Paul's in London. Still the building took fourteen aerial hits.

 

The Dom is the most visited attraction in Germany, and it was busy with tourists snapping and chatting, until the warders shooed us all out so a service could start. That’s okay, we got our shots of The Shrine of the Three Kings. I was interested to learn that this sarcophogus holds the remains of the three wise men from the bible story. No! Really! It does! Wiki it...

 

Dom entrance detail

The Shrine of the Three Kings, Dom

Floor mosaic detail, Dom. Really, you walk on this

Photo display outside the cathedral. 1944

 

We passed a display of photographs showing the aftermath of the Allied bombing, complete with distraught-looking children. Just like Syria today. I reminded Jo that two weeks before we left London, a neighbourhood in Poplar had been evacuated to defuse a 500-pound German bomb. Still...

 

Back to the river, but north this time. It was cold, windy and drizzly, so we stuck to the neighbourhood for shelter. Besides, I had a restaurant on my list.

 

St. Kunibert catholic church entrance, Köln

 

We were early for lunch, but the place was open, and we parked ourselves in Restaurant Brücken, Johannisstrasse 79. It was a wine bar. We asked the boss for recommendations: Jo got a Blauschiefer white, I got a German merlot. She ate a salmon quiche, I had a really nice Krakauer sausage. We were glad we got there early, as the place was filling up with young office workers. We were the only tourists.

 

It stopped raining, so we headed down to the river, marvelled at the size of the river cruise boats and attendant coaches, then passed through the zoo to The Flora.

 

River cruiser/restaurant and attendant coaches, Rhine

 

Our gardens are about a month ahead of Köln’s. Plus, the heavy rains the night before had flattened the grasses and the trees were drooping. Still, there was lots to admire. Too many photographs were taken.

 

Flora entrance, Köln

TGBITW enjoys the foliage in The Flora

Triffids. The Flora

 

I really didn’t want to retrace our steps back into town, so we grabbed a cab on a taxi rank and had him take us the other side of the city to a large park with a Biergarten. I spoke German, produced a map, he nodded and off we went. When we arrived, this Turk turned and said in good English, “I think the Biergarten is closed.”

 

And so it was. We walked along the lake and came to a small theatre on the edge of the park. I had noticed various appropriations of English on German signage, but this one caught my eye:

 

Theatre signage, Köln

 

We headed north and made our way back into the centre, passing through residential neighbourhoods, saw creative children’s playgrounds and, oh look! A cake shoppe!

 

We ordered cappucinos, pointed at cakes that looked seriously sweet and were happy to sit down. Our young waiter was a good-looking chap, who did more posing than waiting. I tipped accordingly.

 

Only a very expensive shop could have this window display, Köln

 

On the move again, we passed by fancy shops and the busy riverside area. I saw another restaurant on my list. (Herrings im Martinswinkel, Fischmarkt 9.) I made a reservation for later in the evening and we went home for our traditional, if somewhat irregular, late afternoon nap.

 

TGBITW enjoys the German language

Fischmarkt with our evening's restaurant and the Dom in the background

Edith Stein Denkmal, Köln

 

On the way, we passed the Edith Stein Denkmal, a sculpture dedicated to St.Teresa Benedicta of the Cross. Very briefly, Edith Stein was a German Jew, from a devout family. She decided she was an atheist in her teenage years, then became a Roman Catholic nun after WWI in 1922. She and her sister fled to Holland when the Nazis came to power, were both arrested during the war, shipped back to Auschwitz and murdered in 1942. We wondered aloud about the statue, then learned the tragic story when we got back to London. Glad I didn’t know the details when I put my head down for a couple hours.

 

Rain again spoiled our last night in Köln, and the good reviews that our restaurant choice received had been written by persons who had not tried the Riesengarnelen (large butterflied prawns). The potato soup was nice, though. I had soup almost every time I saw it on the menu. Germans do good soup.

 

The rain had let up and the walk back to the hotel was dry for a change. We packed, got to bed and the night chorus of scooters and lorrys lulled me to sleep. 

Edited 1 June, 2018 by freelunch
typo

[freelunch]

Day 3 – Köln to Hannover to Berlin

Unusually, I looked forward to the hotel breakfast. I looked forward to squeezing the liverwurst out of its little sausage-shaped tube onto my Brotchen and stuffing it with slices of cheese, mopping up my soft-boiled egg.

 

We had the car loaded and on the road earlier than expected, so when we got lost in Hannover at lunchtime, there was no time pressure. Apparently, Susan can cope with traffic jams, but road works are a problem. And when I pull a U-turn, it takes her too long to catch up with me. After getting honked at for the second time, I figured just pull into the first parking garage we come across. 

 

Sidebar: when I bought my Moto G5s phone, the reviews mentioned that there was no compass in the phone. Well, I carry one, so what’s the problem? My next purchase will be a phone with an internal compass. 

 

Another sidebar: Around the Rathaus and Kirche was about the only attractive part of Hannover we saw. Wikipedia says 90% of the city centre was flattened in 88 Allied bombing attacks. Hannover was an important centre for rail, roads and industrial production. It also had eight concentration camps in the area.

 

Alter detail, Marktkirche, Hannover. A 14th-century Lutheran cathedral

Marktkirche, Hannover

 

I must have dragged poor Joanna in ever increasing circles around the church and Rathaus looking for one of my listed restaurants before I surrendered and promised we’d go in the next place that looked good.

 

The only shot you get of Hannover

 

There was some sort of boistrous worker’s protest heading up the street toward us, so we ducked into The Block House Restaurant, Ständehausstr. 4. It turned out to be an American-styled steak house. The waitresses were schooled in fast turnover and we had our menus and drinks straight away. Jo again struggled with the menu and resorted to another Caesar salad. I had to have steak, right? It was a rib-eye from Hereford. 

 

It was all I could do to finish the slab of meat that was a bit more bloody than I would have liked. The woman at the table next to us wrapped up her husband’s unfinished steak in a napkin and shoved it in her purse. 

 

It was a lot easier getting out of town than it was getting in. We were soon cruising to Berlin on the A2. I was looking forward to this part of the trip, as there are quite a few unrestricted speed zones. I’d had my wheels rotated and aligned for the trip and the Škoda’s top speed is supposed to be in excess of 150 mph. We’ll see...

 

You’d think a road where you can go as fast as you like would be well paved, but no. And, you cannot go 150 mph when all about you are doing 90. I got in behind a big Merc and followed him up to 120+ mph, but we soon caught up with slower traffic. 

 

I found out the adjustable cruise control can be set at a maxium of 160 kph (100 mph) so that’s what I did. And relaxed. This is quite a capable car. 108 mph seemed to be the sweet spot, 3,000 rpm. Just cruising for miles. We were soon just outside Berlin, so I stopped for petrol and a rest stop.

 

As we approached the outskirts of Berlin, Susan detected traffic congestion and announced a change of route. This time, I could see the traffic ahead was stopped. We took a ground level route beneath a couple of fly-overs and rejoined the motorway somewhere down the way. I was impressed. Just leave it to Susan.

 

“You have arrived at your destination.” Sure enough, we were stopped in front of the Mercure Hotel & Residenz Checkpoint Charlie, Schützenstr. 11. We checked in and got TGBITW to our room, then I went to park the car in our reserved parking spot.

 

It was two rights around the corner, right into the parking garage, then endless rights as I descended into the bowels of the earth. The Škoda is a long car, and I was sitting bolt upright, trying to see around the A-pillar on my right while appreciating the scarred wall on the left and all the scuffed bollards.

 

Four winding stories down I finally found the Mercure garage spaces. There were plenty, so I just picked one with no other cars around. I looked for the exit. I saw the ramp up, but no way was I going to attempt that. I must have seen countless No Exit signs before I started attempting to open the no exit doors.

 

I followed a chap who seemed to know what he was doing, but he was going to his car and I hadn’t seen were he came from. I realised I didn’t have my phone with me. I had walked most of the -4th floor, always returning to space number 410 so I didn’t forget where I started from. How long had I been down here?

 

Like a mini-miracle, an door I had not spotted before led to a stairwell and I exited into the sunlight! I followed the street around and entered the hotel, stopping at the bar for a beer and glass of Sekt to take to the room. I felt like I’d just crossed the Sahara and lived to tell the tale. And I do love hyperbole.

 

Joanna hadn’t missed me. She wasn’t much interested in my ordeal, but was grateful for the drink. And, after a couple sips of my beer, I relaxed enough to have a look around our hotel room. It was huge! A bed (huge) area and a sitting area separated by a large desk/TV station. Loads of closet space, but no hangers, so a quick phone call to sort that out.

 

TGBITW enjoys her Sekt in the Mercure Hotel Checkpoint Charlie, Berlin

 

It took us a brief moment to figure out that the floor to ceiling mural at the end of the room wasn’t a photo of John Kennedy’s assassination cavalcade, but his conquering Ich bin ein Berliner cavalcade, standing next to Willy Brandt in the open limousine. Americans are still cut some slack in Berlin. After years of hand-wringing, the war has been embraced and turned into a tourist industry.

 

We hit the street, electing to keep things close to home this evening – just explore the area to the north of the hotel. I noticed that, unlike Köln and Hannover – which have a lot of 50’s and 60’s concrete architecture, Berlin’s Mitte area is quite attractive.

 

Neue Kirche, Gendarmenmarkt, Berlin

Konzerthaus, Gendarmenmarkt

 

Gendarmenmarkt is a lovely area. A couple churches on the square with an opera house in the middle. Fountains and places outside to relax with a beer. Nice, if a bit cool. We were carrying umbrellas, but hadn’t needed them yet.

 

Second on my list of German staples after Bratwurst and Sauerkraut comes Maultaschen. Every region offers the ravioli-like stuffed pastry, but serves it up differently. I found a place (Die Maultasche) just up the road a few blocks, I promise, that had many different varieties of this speciality.

 

We finally found it and Jo said, “No.” I had to agree. There was one bloke seated in this neon cafe. We backtracked to Gendarmerie, Behrenstr. 42. And what a good choice it proved to be. Huge, high ceiling, posh. Expensive. Oh, well. That’s why god made plastic.

 

They had one of my must-haves on the menu: Wiener Schnitzel with potato salad, but first, oysters. The waiter suggested a nice bottle of white (Weingut Franz Kelle, it says here) and the rest of the list: fresh mint tea, Sans Souci classic, Gurken Salat, Kabeljau. I can’t remember what half this stuff is, but it was all good.

 

The Wiener Schnitzel arrived. It spilled over the edges of the plate – a big plate. I got stuck in. It was fabulous, the breading bubbling up from the searing heat of the frying pan, but nothing scorched or burnt. Perfect. The potato salad not an after thought, but equally good.

 

My impression was reinforced when two German couples sat at the table next to us. Five minutes later, they all had Wiener Schnitzel in front of them. This must be the place!

 

I don’t mind paying stupid money when the food is that good. I was almost whistling as we walked back to the hotel. Nice first night.

[freelunch]

Day 4 – Berlin

You could hear the sound of silence all night long in this lovely hotel room, but at 0600, sharp, the kitchen staff trundled their trolley across the courtyard cobbles and, as usual, our windows were open. Wide awake now. This was to happen every am except Sunday.

 

Breakfast was not included with this hotel, which suits me fine. Get out, get started on this cold, rainy day. We’d seen the Einstein Coffe Shop opposite the Gendarmenmarkt the night before and returned for Früstück. Order at the counter and carry your stuff to a table/counter. We got a table on this busy Friday morning, but when Joanna joined me to point at the yogurt she wanted, we lost the table to four very sly and quick OAPs. Never mind. The breakfast was quite good: slightly sweet yogurt with fresh fruit, still warm croissant and nice coffee.

 

We headed west today. Checkpoint Charlie, Potsdamer Platz, Kulturforum, KaDeWe in the KuDamm. 

 

But first, we needed to dress warmer. On the way back to the hotel, we popped into a Lidl. We bought a large bottle of mineral water and a bottle of Dornfelder (a quite nice German red wine) for the grand price of £2.36. 25 cents of that was the Pfand, the bottle deposit.

 

As in Köln, we saw a lot of homeless people. Some were begging, but many were rifling through the litter bins looking for recyclables and carrying large bags of empty bottles.

 

Checkpoint Charlie, Friedrichstraße, Berlin

 

So, recharged, we passed Checkpoint Charlie and took the obligatory photos. More fun was the Trabant museum down the road. TrabiWorld. Then a monument to Currywurst: a giant sausage in a bun held aloft by the Berlin bear. Finally, and more seriously, The Wall. Or, what’s left of it. They finally had to fence it off to keep souvenir hunters at bay. A couple neo-classical buildings, then Potsdamer Platz built on the rubble of WWII.

 

Trabiworld

Currywurst

The Wall

 

We finally got to our destination, the Kunztforum, several art galleries clustered together. Our building was open, but the exhibit was closed. We took pictures of the gallery and ate lunch in the cafeteria. It wasn’t bad: beef stroganoff on noodles. And a beer. No more Kölsch here, Berliner Pils.

 

The Boxers, Keith Haring

Kunstgewerbemuseum

Kupferstichkabinett interior. No show today

 

Still under umbrellas, we marched on to Küfurstendamm, the locals call it the KüDamm. This area used to be the heart of the American sector of West Berlin, until the wall came down and Berlin was reunified. The Kaufhaus des Westens, or KaDeWe, is Berlin’s Harrods. We were headed for some retail therapy.

 

Across the street from KaDeWe was a street market offering a polar opposite shopping choice. As Harrods is full of tourists, so is KaDeWe. I headed for the men’s department, looking for a pair of chinos as all of mine are too big for me now. 

 

Ralph Lauren. £130! You must be kidding. We headed for the top floor – the food hall. Wow! A mecca for foodies. We sat around a central square feeding station and watched as the short order cooks fried us up a Kartoffelpuffer mit Apfelsosse. A Bitburger Pils, Jo’s Riesling. This was much better!

 

The KaDeWe food hall

Very expensive sparkling wine

 

I had a German family on my left shoulder, eight eyes watching me eat my last bites of potato pancake, then my last sip of beer, (Jo had gone to the candy section, so I was milking this) then gather my stuff into my knapsack, then leave a tip... Quick! Grab his stool!

 

We checked out a display of Champagne. One bottle was €5,500. That is not a typo. Then, gold eggs. No kidding. Then American whiskey brands I’ve never heard of. Ah, a deli! I bought a couple ends of Italian sausage: Salami crudo al Barolo, Salsicca Modena it says here. They would go nicely with my bottle of Dornfelder in the hotel room.

 

Jo bought gifts to bring home. She had to take a picture of a display of Cartwright & Butler biscuits from Beverley, Yorkshire. Never heard of ‘em. KaDeWe says they only offer the best products, so maybe Jo could never afford them before.

 

We circled the top floor perimeter, peering over diners to take in the view, then bailed. I saw the U-Bahn across the street. No! We’re walking. Oh, okay... We saw half a million euros on a lorry, walked through the Tiergarten past the Luiseninsel and finally stopped for a drink in the Sony Centre. I had a Heineken. Only international brands in the Sony Centre. Nice building, though. 

 

The Sony Store, roof detail, Potsdamer Platz

What's left of a rich man's mansion from 1944, Potsdamer Platz

 

Leaving, we saw a fragment of a stately home, framed like a painting, to showcase the only part of this ex-mansion that had been spared in August 1944. 

 

Ooh! That restaurant is on my list! I went inside the Lutter & Wegner (Restaurant Kaisersaal, Bellevuestr. 1) and made a reservation for later in the evening, then we completed our walk back to the hotel. Wine, sausage, bed.

 

19:30 came far too quickly. I was dressed and peering out the hotel window at the sky, noticing that the rain was finally slacking off. Stupidly, we decided to walk back to Potsdamer Platz. Too far to turn back, the heaven’s opened, lightning flashed across the sky and we realised how little shelter there was between us and our destination. Even under umbrellas, we were soaked to the knees by the time we got there.

 

Lutter & Wegner, Potsdamer Platz

 

Obviously, the weather had discouraged other diners on this Friday night and we had the place pretty much to ourselves. Our Croatian waiter, who spoke five languages, complimented me on my German and lightened up a bit. Took good care of us. They had a special Spargel menu on tonight. Germans love the white asparagus and prepare it in a myriad of styles. I love the Spargelcremesuppe, and that’s what I had to start. I misinterpreted my main meal, thinking I was getting ham with a bit of Spargel on the side, when I got a huge portion of Spargel and a bit of ham on the side. Spargeled out, I just ate the tips and left the rest.

 

Jo had a bass filet, which she pronounced delicious and we had a bottle of Riesling Sekt.

 

Sidebar: The Sekt Story. This I read in the Lutter & Wegner menu: The word “Sekt” originates, indirectly, from Shakespeare. As the story goes, in 1825, well-known actor Ludwig Devrient was at Berlin wine bar Lutter und Wegner. In that era’s German translations of Shakespeare, the playwright’s sack, or sherry, was translated as Sect, the German term for sweet Spanish wine. Devrient quoted Henry IV, where Falstaff demands, “Bringe er mit Sect, Schurke!” (“Give me a cup of sack, rogue!”) Since his usual drink was Champagne, the waiter served him accordingly. “Sekt” soon became a popular name for sparkling wine. In 1925, when “Champagne” could no longer be used for German wines, it became the official designation.

 

Sekt is to Germany what Prosecco is to Italy, both a cheaper alternative to Champagne. So, now we were wet inside, too. But, the rain had stopped and we had a nice stroll home. Ooh, that place looks nice, and that place... we never took this route again.

[freelunch]

Day 5 – Berlin. Jo’s birthday

(Oh, yeah, the whole reason for this trip was to celebrate Joanna's birthday. We had such a good time here seven years ago, she wanted to return.)

 

Today, we headed southeast, through arty, ethnic Kreuzberg. But, first, breakfast. 

 

We stopped at Coffee Fellows within sight of Checkpoint Charlie. We had bad cappuccino and bad yogurt and a stale croissant. How can you get that wrong? It would be back to Einstein’s tomorrow. Sheesh!

 

Then, the tourist ATM across the road wanted to rob me on the exchange rate. I dodged that bullet and we passed Checkpoint Charlie without further misadventure. My phone got us to Berlinische Gallerie, the modern art museum. 

 

Berlinische Gallerie, Kreuzberg

 

This place was open and had actual stuff to see! In fact, they had a really nice exhibit of Eduardo Luigi Palozzi, born in 1924 to Italian parents in Leith, Edinburgh. Here’s a few of my happy snaps:

 

Bio, Eduardo Luigi Palozzi

Palozzi exhibition, Berlinische Gallerie

Palozzi exhibition, Berlinische Gallerie

Emilio Vedova, Absurd Berlin Diary 1964

Your correspondent with an uncanny resemblance

I was intrigued by the frequent images of Nazis, swastikas and even Herr Hitler. It's still illegal in Germany to have a Nazi party or give a Nazi salute, but we didn't see so many references to them seven years ago. The photo was in the exhibition, the postcard in the gift shop. 

 

The gallery was just about the right size and I think we saw all of it before we headed toward Kreuzberg proper, walking in the bright sun for a change.

 

We made it to ORA (Oranienplatz 14, Kreuzberg) for lunch. Definitely on my list. We were lucky to get a table in this ultra busy, neighbourhood restaurant. We had to wait a bit for our order to arrive, but I didn’t mind a bit. I was mesmerised by the grace of a thirty-something, Turkish waitress. I’m old, but I still got eyes...

 

Then my Merguez sausage with tomato and poached eggs arrived and nothing else mattered. Augustiner Pils this time. And Kartoffelsuppe. The Germans do good soup, have I said that already?

 

We left happy, but umbrellas aloft once again. We made it to Kreuzberg central. I thought I was back in the Haight Ashbury, except everyone was wearing black. The only colour now is inked on your arms and legs, and, here, neck and face, and adorned with hardware. 

 

Kreuzberg central

 

We were tolerated (or just invisible) and got our drinks outside under the awning that was just keeping us dry. The girls at the end of the bench kept trying to bunch us up to get under the awning, but there wasn’t room to move. Still, we did some serious people watching. The SO34 was across the street, on my list of music places, but I didn’t think we’d be visiting somehow.

 

We continued in our southeasterly direction to Görlitzer Park, now in the sun. It wasn’t much more than a quite large green space with a couple of public buildings and park benches. The benches were occupied by groups of Somali youths (I guessed Somali because I’d seen a Somali restaurant before we got here) and I felt a bit guilty for assuming that they were selling drugs when they tried to get our attention. Not aggressive, just whispers I couldn’t understand. Never mind, that was all forgotten when Joanna saw a big kid’s slide. Oh, boy! She quickly left me behind. A couple of snaps:

 

Oh, boy! A slide! Well, it was her birthday...

OMG!!! I asked: she did see the water at the bottom of the slide, but thought she could stop before she got to the end. She couldn't.

 

Well, Jo could muster a laugh, but she was soaked. I wasn’t laughing, as her hand-me-down Canon S95 camera was also soaked. We hoped the cab driver we managed to flag down wouldn’t notice how wet she was. Our return to the hotel coincided with nap time. Wine, salami, bed.

 

The rain had stopped, not a cloud in the sky. We sat outside The Refugium restaurant in Gendarmenplatz and enjoyed a glass of Sekt and decided on a place to eat. Where do you take a girl on her birthday in Berlin? An Italian restaurant, of course.

 

Restaurant Bocca di Bacco had excellent reviews and (lucky for us) a table without a reservation. This was a really nice place. Handsome staff, not overbearing, and a lively vibe. Jo was entranced by the table behind me. A quick glance showed five, black-clad rich types. Jo guessed Mafia, and I suppose she should know.

 

One of the men had a pomeranian (sorry, Deutscher Spitz) that was alternately in his lap or around his ankles, yapping. Anyone less rich would have been shown the door, this reinforced when the dog actually bit a waiter and no one made a fuss, though the waiter took his time returning to the table.

 

Anyway, my sea bass carpaccio was a bit of a disappointment. It was correct, but flavourless. Well, the recommended wine was delicious and the pork-stuffed ravioli that followed was fab. Five good-sized ravioli that, unfortunately, reminded me of old school folded nappies. I don’t see a dessert on the receipt? We were certainly happy when we left.

 

And, since the night was so pleasant, we stopped in Augustiner am Gendarmenmarkt and sat at the bar. 

 

Gendarmenmarkt

Underberg. Sidebar: when I was looking for a job in London, 1986, I had to redo my portfolio to show concepts, rather than finished ads. My American work was useless in this market. One of the student briefs I worked up was for Underberg Bitters. It is (I was told) a hangover cure, that was mostly just neat alcohol and herbs. Anyway, I had never seen a bottle until I sat in this place. I could barely contain my excitement, hence the photo.

 

Phew! Home. Bed.

[freelunch]

Day 6 – Berlin

Today was gorgeous! A botanical garden day if I ever saw one, so that’s what we did. £9.70 was the cost of our one and only round trip on the U-Bahn, and we got to Restaurant Englers (at the entrance to the garden) in time for breakfast. Fresh orange juice and scrambled eggs with bacon. Delicious. We enjoyed this outside under an umbrella, because it was already too hot to sit in the sun. 

 

Restaurant Englers, Steglitz, Berlin, opposite the botanical garden

Breakfast

 

My camera tells me we spent three hours in the garden, walking, walking, walking, before finally sitting in the shade with a Berliner Pils. The best part was the Aladdin’s cave of a greenhouse and the cactus displays.

 

Botanischer Garten und Botanisches Museum

Skunk cabbage

Fern

Cacti

More cacti. The greenhouse was hot, man, but had a fantastic display of sharp and pointy things

 

We got out when the place got too crowded on this sunny Sunday, and made it back to the Englers. The waitress smiled to see us back again and brought us the special Spargel menu. Again. Spargelcremesuppe, again. Spargel mit kleine Schnitzel, for a change. Too much, again.

 

Lunch

 

Stuffed, we walked the mile back to the U-Bahn station, found a bank that offered a proper exchange rate, then went back to the hotel and collapsed, um, after wine and salami.

 

The evening was pleasant enough to stroll around a block or two to see which restaurant should have the pleasure of our company. There are loads of choices around Gendarmenmarkt and Jo was starting to make loud sighs as I kept moving on to the next place.

 

Okay, we’ll try the Brasserie am Gendarmenmarkt, Taubenstr. 30. French for a change. All the smokers had taken the seating outside, so we went in the restaurant. 

 

(Okay, I’ll be honest. How do you choose a restaurant? I looked inside and saw the most elegant-looking, middle-aged couple sitting there and thought, if it’s good enough for them...)

 

Fantastic choice! Nice room, all red, dark wood and cut glass, nice table, pleasant (if formal) waiting staff. I ordered a Negroni, Jo a Cremant Rosé, and we waded through the menu. Keep it simple: steak and salad. Soon, I was tucking into the most wonderful cut of beef filet. Delicious. But, there was some sort of commotion disturbing my reverie.

 

The other side of the restaurant, past the beautiful couple, was a banquet room full of Americans, mid-westerners, was my guess, but that was not the unbelievable rudeness that was assailing my ears. Someone was shouting, but we could only hear one half of the conversation.

 

My perfect couple were also trying to see what the disturbance was. Would the staff have a word? No, too polite. Damn it! It was up to me.

 

I got up. Jo moaned, oh, what are you going to do now? Just have a word, you know, as a fellow American. So, I walked over. There, right out of a Woody Allen film, were a couple of OAPs having a video conversation with a relative back in the States. They weren’t even customers, but had walked in off the street to find a quiet place to make their call. They were holding the screen in front of them and shouting at it.

 

I just said, “Please. We can hear you on the other side of the restaurant.” As I turned, they shouted at the screen, “We have to go now, Hon” taking another few moments to blow kisses and sign off. Unbelievable, I thought as I returned to my seat, and I imagined the female half of my perfect couple gave me a smile as I walked by. 

 

Anyway, even that episode couldn’t take the gloss off my perfect meal. The bill was quite reasonable, considering, and I left a happy boy. To bed.

Edited 29 May, 2018 by freelunch

[freelunch]

Day 7 – Berlin

Einstein’s was busy this gloomy Monday morning and we had our umbrellas up as we headed northeast today, Museum Island and Alexanderplatz. Many of the galleries and museums were closed today, which meant that the few that were opened had lengthy queues to get in. The gloom and the strain of six days on the go was starting to tell in our voices. Decisions were getting difficult, mainly because I didn’t really want to wait 90 minutes to get into an overcrowded Pergamonmuseum and all the art galleries were shut.

 

Bebelplatz, the site of the Nazi book burnings

The 19th-century Berliner Dom, Museum Island

I took a shot of this sign on our last visit, too. Tells a story...

Alte Nationalgalerie. No museum is complete without a statue of a guy holding a severed head in a sling

 

So, we decided to take a river cruise. A very camp gay chap did a running commentary and that proved to be the best part of the hour-long trip. It was drizzling, so they had the clear plastic roof closed, and the scenery was mostly new modern government buildings or 50’s and 60’s concrete brutalism for the obvious reason.

 

Spree river tour. Order, please?

 

We tipped Lennert and asked if he had ever heard of Henning Wehn? No. So I got his email address and sent him a link when we got home. Haven’t heard back.

 

It was past lunchtime, so we went in search of another of my listed restaurants: Hackescher Hof, Rosenthaler Str. 40/41. Riesling, Berliner Pils, Selleriesuppe, Pasta Linguine, Filetsp.Schwein and milchkaffee it says here. Quite decent, too. 

 

Hackescher Hof, Berlin Hackescher Markt. TGBITW enjoys her...

...Selleriesuppe. Have I said the Germans do good suppe?

Oxymoron, Hackescher Markt. The scene of a previous crime

 

Then we recognized that we were sitting a few feet from where we spent a couple happy hours seven years ago in the Oxymoron, where I introduced my brother-in-law to the joys of martinis.

 

Fed, we decided retail therapy was in order. We bought two pairs of trousers, a blouse and a pair of tights in Uniqlo for less than the price of a pair of chinos in KaDeWe. No wonder the place was heaving with customers. It took longer to check out than to choose and try on my trousers.

 

TGBITW spots one of her Idols

 

As we were in the neighbourhood, we figured we might as well go up the Berliner Fernsehturm, the revolving restaurant at the top of the radio tower. It was a long walk and it started raining. We had to negotiate a public toilet in a supermarket, which Jo pronounced excellent, manage the six-lane divided road that encircles (ensquares?) Alexanderplatz, then finally show up at the entrance to... WTF? Closed for today only.

 

This was getting tedious. April seems to be the wrong month for Berlin. We headed back to the hotel via the Rotes Rathaus, checking out the Alt Berliner Weissbierstube, Rathausstr. 21. Gave directions to German tourists, took photos from underneath my umbrella. Wine, salami, bed.

 

This was our last night in Berlin, so I thought we’d start with something a bit special. I read that the bar in the Hotel Adlon had to be seen. It has a glowing history and stands a stone’s throw from the Brandenburg Gate. So to begin the birthday evening, we threw on the best clothes we could manage and swanned in to rub elbows with the rich and, well, we didn’t see anyone famous. 

 

Our young German waitress was beautiful and attentive and learned her English in America. She brought me a quite large and perfectly dry martini. Jo had Sekt. Apparently, the American brass liked this place, but Hitler preferred the Hotel Kaiserhof a couple blocks south. It was bombed out of existence.

 

Hotel Adlon bar, opposite the...

Brandenburg Gate

 

I figured one €22 martini was enough, so we meandered back to Gendarmenmarkt on this cool, clear evening. Classic German food on our final night. Ainger, Gendarmenmarkt, Franzoesische Str. 25. Nürnberger sausages with spuds and kraut. It was delicious, but it was getting late and the restaurant was winding down. Our table was next to the wine cooler and we were in the waitress’ traffic pattern. Plus, we were a bit jaded and ready to be on the move again.

 

If you stay in Berlin, the Gendarmenmarkt is a good choice. Four of the five restaurants we tried were in a three block area, just a four block walk from our hotel. And, it’s one of the prettier areas with good access to the highlights. Last time, we stayed near Rosenthaler Platz, which is more on the northeastern fringe. It was interesting and arty (think grafitti), but I preferred the more central location.

 

We ambled back to the Checkpoint Charlie and packed before hitting the sack.

Edited 30 May, 2018 by freelunch

[freelunch]

Day 8 – Berlin to Göttingen to Aachen

This morning, I was going to have to find my car. Remembering the ordeal I suffered after parking five days ago, I was not looking forward to this. I made sure I had my phone with me this time. I even had my compass (well, it’s always attached to my knapsack).

 

There was a lift in the hotel to the garage four floors below. I decided against taking a pocket full of bread crumbs and a ration of water. So, the doors opened, I stepped out... I could SEE my car about 50 feet away! I couldn’t tell if I felt more stupid or relieved. How?

 

That sorted, we turned down the gracious offer of a €20/head breakfast in the hotel and returned to Einstein’s. The counter chap recognised us. “Same again?” he asked.

 

I stopped at hotel reception to pay my bill. Now, I knew that parking was €25/day, and I was willing to pay it for the security and convenience. Still, when she said €125 for parking, I felt like I’d been mugged. Nevermind, we had a really nice stay.

 

Sing, “On the road again”. Today, we had a 400-miler ahead of us. I never would have tried that distance on the bike, well, not with Jo on the back. But the car, air con, cruise control, tunes... and at 100 mph we got to Göttingen a bit early. The only attraction of this town is that it was just off the A2 and it was lunchtime.

 

Turns out, Göttingen is a pretty little town. Susan got me to the entrance of the car park, then we followed my map to find Zum Szültenbürger, Prinzenstraße 7. It was a beautiful day and it seemed the whole town was out basking in the sun. The pedestrian precinct had its share of Harley’s and tattoo parlours. Definitely a working class town. I couldn’t tell if the people we saw were on a lunch break or just unemployed.

 

Göttingen

 

My restaurant had a table outside in the shade for us. We got our bottle of mineralwasser and studied the German menu. No English here. Ah, another dish to tick off my list: Schweinshaxe. Jo had her fall back Caesarsalat with half a chicken draped across the top. My ham hock/pork knuckle arrived.

 

Schweinshaxe

I surrender!

 

My eyes bulged and I accepted the challenge. It was delicious. I ate half, then a bit more and a little bit more, then I surrendered. I was grateful for the walk back to the car park.

 

The Jag in front of me was having trouble negotiating the down ramps, making two point turns before committing to each ramp. My Škoda is longer than the Jag, but we made it down unscathed. Stop. Push Susan’s buttons, next stop Aachen.

 

We had a couple Autobahn adventures that made us a bit late arriving at our hotel. First, Susan seems to be able to cope with traffic jams, but not roadworks. We were instructed to leave the Autobahn "due to current traffic conditions". Well done, Susan! I could see the stopped traffic from the parallel rural road we were on. We crossed under the ‘Bahn, turned west, then...

 

The road was closed. Susan? I ignored the signs and carried on up the road. The signs weren’t kidding. I stopped at a petrol station and Jo availed herself of the services while I tried to use the sat/nav map to find out where the heck we were.

 

I didn’t bother with printed maps. Why bother? Well, I knew we needed to head west, so we drove back to the first closed sign and followed the Germans. Turns out there was a signposted diversion that took us to the next main town. It was slow, but we were moving. Once there, I reprogrammed Susan and, sure enough, she got us back on the motorway just the other side of the traffic jams.

 

The downside of 100 mph traffic is accidents. When they happen, they’re big ones. Fortunately, this mishap was on the eastbound carriageway. Peering over the central divide, we could see an articulated lorry sideways across the three lanes and a vehicle carrier on its side, cars still strapped to its trailer. And, a 10-mile tailback. We could see a dozen rescue vehicles stuck in the tailback, lights flashing. The police were diverting traffic off the motorway at the next exit, but that was creating its own tailback.

 

We took a break at a motorway services just before Köln. The last of the big spenders bought a couple apples and we munched on those in the sun until we were ready for the final slog into Aachen. 

 

Susan parked us in front of our hotel (Hotel Benelux, Franzstr. 21-23) but by the time I got the car parked, unpacked, settled in our room, it was almost 8 pm. Still, it was a beautiful warm evening in Aachen.

 

Getting a late start in Aachen

 

And, what a beautiful place! Who knew? Well, Douglas knew. I had chosen Wiesbaden for our stopover, but Douglas said he thought Aachen would be more interesting place. Turns out to be Charlemagne’s seat in Germany, and the cathedral is amazing. Tonight, though, we only had time for dinner.

 

I was trying to avoid the Rathaus restaurant (Ratskeller Aachen, Markt 40). The reviews said “overpriced” “rude staff” “disappointing food”. But, it looked like the only place that might still be serving. Well, the staff were delighful, the rack of lamb was excellent and, compared to Berlin, it was a bargain.

 

Aachen Dom

Rathaus (town hall) restaurant bottom right

And later that evening...

 

On our way back to the hotel, we were surprised by the aggressive behaviour of one of the towns many homeless people. He was shouting, almost screaming, and flailing his arms about and breaking bottles. You really did not want to get in his way. Let’s call him Luther, for he was to play a further part in this narrative.

 

Tomorrow...

[freelunch]

Day 9 – Aachen

I thought we were only spending a night in Aachen. It was in Berlin I realised that I’d arranged to check out of Berlin on the 17th and check in to Aachen on the 18th. Well, it made sense when I looked at my calendar, but not when I actually thought about it. Oops. I envisioned spending a night hanging with the homeless on the streets of Aachen.

 

Instead, I tapped the Booking.com app on my mobile and easily extended our stay with the Hotel Benelux. I love tech. Unfortunately, the quiet room I originally booked, turned into a noisy one overlooking the four-lane in front of the hotel. A room overlooking the deck at the back of the hotel would have made a world of difference... Still, the included breakfast was very nice. The only thing that could have made the scrambled eggs with bacon any better would have been more.

 

So, on the street Wednesday with a full belly and looking foward to seeing what Aachen had to offer. A lot, as it turns out.

 

St. Leonhard's Gymnasium reflects the Greek Orthodox Church

 

But first, we had to deal with Luther. Or rather, Luther had to deal with us. He came up behind us as we were window shopping our way into the centre and asked for money. I said I couldn’t help, which always seems to work in London. I expected a “Oh, nevermind. Have a nice day” but got a torrent of abuse in surprisingly good English.

 

In my best avoidance mode, I tried to get into the clothing shop we were standing in front of. Geschlossen. Luther almost seemed to take pity on me, the abuse fading as he walked away. Pretty unnerving, I’ve got to say. When we got to the Dom (cathedral) there was Luther, sat on the ground, hat in front, behaving himself lest he be moved on by the warden.

 

We noticed small groups of homeless all over town, though mostly working the tourist centre. Men and women. But, Luther was the only one to be wary of and he was always alone. 

 

Anyway, the Dom was closed for a service. We walked around, admiring the town, the Roman ruins, the Elisenbrunnen and the fountains of sulpherous-smelling water from the thermal springs. We’d forgotten all about Luther.

 

Roman ruins in Friedrich-Wilhelm-Platz, Aachen

Elisenbrunnen thermal baths

Elisenbrunnen. One of many sulphurous-smelling fountains. Good for what ails you, apparently

 

Okay, Culture Day! A loop out to the east of town took in a few art galleries and museums. The first two were closed. Then, we found the Suermondt-Ludwig-Museum. Lovely 19th century mansion turned museum. We liked the 12th to 16th century wooden religious sculptures best. We started to get museum fatigue after an hour and hit the street for a beer. It was hot! So, we’ve been complaining about the rain for five days, now we’re moaning about the heat.

 

Suermondt-Ludwig-Museum, Aachen

What do you guess Jesus is saying to his acolyte?

Suermondt-Ludwig-Museum

Suermondt-Ludwig-Museum ceiling detail. Everyone should have an alligator hanging from their ceiling

 

The next museum was also excellent, except that half of it was closed while they installed a new exhibit. We had really bad luck with the galleries on this trip. Anyway, the Ludwig Forum for International Art was fun. A huge open ex-factory space, and more swastikas than you would expect to see in Germany.

 

We saw Warhols, Oldenburgs, Lichtensteins and a room of modern industrial art that was quite interesting. As in all German galleries, eyes followed us everywhere. I keep my hands in my pockets, but Jo likes to touch stuff. I tried to be where she wasn’t. If the sign says don’t walk on the grass, she says she can’t read German.

 

Ludwig Forum for International Art, Aachen

Claes Oldenburg, Ashtray

TGBITW enjoys some industrial design

Fabric design

Industrial design

Don't Mention The War

Don't Mention The War II

Duane Hanson, Allen Jones and Andy Warhol. I dare not get too close to the Jones piece, lest it be booby trapped

 

We made it back into town and had a good look at the Dom. There were SILENCE signs everywhere and someone kept trying to shush people, but the chatter continued. Luther was still camped outside the cathedral, behaving himself until he collected enough to fund his night terrors.

 

Charlemange at 10:00 and at 15:30, outside the Dom

Aachener Dom, ceiling detail

Ceiling detail

Aachener Dom

Aachener Dom

Aachener Dom

 

We sat on the sidewalk and were served D.I.Y sandwiches in a non-descript place that was not Puppenbrunnen, the restaurant I spent far too long searching for. Don’t buy a phone without an internal compass is my advice. 

 

Naptime, then back across town for our last dinner in Germany. We succeeded in finding Vertical die Weinbar, Kockerellstr.13. What a nice place! We thought we’d have a glass of wine, but stayed for a whole meal. The prices were so reasonable, I assumed small plates, so I had a mixed cured meats platter followed by spaghetti aglio olio. I ate half of each. Excellent wine, the food came from a place next door in some sort of reciprical deal. The wine was better. Then we were finished for the night. We kept a close eye out for Luther on walk home past the Dom, but we didn’t see him. Maybe he met his match.

 

 

Vertical die Weinbar

Aachen

Edited 30 May, 2018 by freelunch

[freelunch]

Final Day – Aachen to Ghent to London

Friday morning I looked forward to scrambled eggs and ham again. They gave me a larger portion, as I’d been so effusive in my praise the day before.

 

I was also looking forward to my own bed tonight. This was an easy day. We got to Ghent at noon, eventually found Restaurant du Progres, Korenmarkt 10. We enjoyed a chicken casserole and Caesar salad while sitting in the window overlooking the tourist hordes in the square, basking in the sun.

 

A quick look in Saint Nicholas’ Church and Saint Michael’s Church had us back to our car park which, very fortuately, had a nice toilet, as nine days of overindulgence took its toll. I felt sorry for the girl that had to use the unisex toilet after me.

 

St. Nicholas Church from St. Michaels car park, Ghent

The Leie, Ghent

From the window of the Restaurant du Progres, Korenmarkt, Ghent

St. Nicholas Church, Ghent

St. Nicholas Church, Ghent

St. Nicholas Church, Ghent

 

We got to Calais in plenty of time, fortunately, as Brexit seems to be already having an effect on the border crossing. Then our train departed 15 minutes late, but we were home. A glass of whiskey in hand and feet up in front of the evening news.

 

Joanna wants to know where we’re going next.

 

Okay. This is a Škoda website. The Superb Sportline was just that. Superb. When I was motorcycle touring, I spent more time in garages than I care to think about. The motorcycle always played a major role in the trip, positive and negative. The Škoda was fabulous and effortless. You didn't have to think about it. Set the Sat/Nav, select the music, switch on the air con, put it in drive and go. As fast or as slow as you like. Perfect. We didn't need the back seat, but man, we sure filled that boot!

 

Thanks for sticking with this. I hereby return your bandwidth.  

[juux]

Great write-up, I'm never organised enough to do the same on road trips. You always think you'll remember everything but of course you don't...unless you entrust it to the internet like this!

[freelunch]

Thanks. All our friends ask about the trip, so I've taken my photos and my wife's notes and posted it online. Now when they ask, they get a link. Simples.

[Wet Kipper]

Sounds like a great trip, thanks for sharing it with us.

[freelunch]

When I was freelancing in Heidelberg (1999-2001) I met Douglas Fear. (He gets a mention in Day 8 of the trip report.) Douglas became a good friend while I was staying there, sharing a passion for food and wine and teaching me a thing or two about cigars and Germany. Douglas is a linguist, speaking numerous languages including Albanian, which got us out of trouble one night in Trier. He translates medical texts and occasionally does guided tours. He knows much about most things except football and popular entertainment, which was proven one night during a pub quiz I was certain we would win with Douglas on the team. He doesn't know what year Madonna was born and doesn't care. We lost.

 

I sent Douglas a link to my trip report and received a reply, which I thought I would share with you:

 

Hi Jerry,

Nice one! Thanks for the mention - Aachen IS worth it, i said so. You could 
have asked me about Göttingen - it's not a 'working-class town', it's a major 
university town. Think physics around 1900 - 1930.....

Berlin, good grief. Of all the parts to visit, the middle is least great. You 
need to get off the beaten track a little. Like Köpenick, for example. Der 
Hauptmann von Köpenick is legendary (indeed, there is a statue of him in front 
of the Köpenicker Rathaus).

Kölsch is not strong, it's simply served in endless small glasses. In a 
traditional Köln pub, you order only once. The waiters bring you one whenever 
they see that your glass is empty, until you put a beer mat over the glass. 

Now, in Berlin one does not eat Wiener Schnitzel, generally. Buletten, Jerry, 
Buletten!

And why on earth not Eisbein with Sauerkraut and the Berliner equivalent of 
mushy peas? That's traditional! Should have asked me, old boy.




As to Schweinehaxen, that is Bavarian, for goodness' sake. Try Grünkohl with 
Pinkel in a place like Göttingen.... or Hannover. 

Oh dear, I shall have to start your education about Germany all over 
again.....

Naw, just taking the p***, not to worry. I am glad that Aachen was a delight, 
and that you both had a good time in Berlin (although Dornfelder for € 2, 
jayzus, that is the worst I have ever heard - did you really drink that 
****?).

Where to go next? Try Alsace - Selestat is good, so is Colmar (even 
Strassbourg is nice), and the Vosges Mountains are quite spectacular.  Good 
food guaranteed, good wines almost always.... what more could one want? 

Or go east, young man - Czech Rep. - Budweis, for example. Almost anywhere 
except perhaps Prague. Or go for Albania - everyone is now discovering Albania 
(they are a little late, but oh well). And mainland Greece, well worth it. 

Lots of places, spoilt for choice!

Thanks for the posting, greetings to Jo!

Cheers
Douglas

 

 

He added further:

 

Brief editing help - you have written 'a neighbourhood in Poplar had been 
evacuated to diffuse a 500-pound German bomb', but of course you meant defuse. 
Autocorrect or some smart-ass thing has interfered again, or maybe a typo.


D.

 

 

Then, on further reading of the trip report, he added:

 

Oh dear, I have caught a major blunder. Must correct this one. Maultaschen are 
Swabian - they do not exist in every region (you would be very hard put to 
find them in Brandenburg, Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, Thüringen, Sachsen, 
Niedersachsten, Schleswig-Hostein to be sure). Berlin had an influx of 
Swabians in the nineties, hence the presence of some Swabian places in the 
capital.


D.

 

Now, thanks to Douglas, my trip report is much more accurate. I never did get any Maultaschen. Or Saumagen.

 

[freelunch]

As a thanks for Briskoda's indulgence in setting up this trip report, I signed on for Freedom support. The first fringe benefit I noticed is the option to edit your post stays open indefinitely, where with normal membership the edit time frame is limited to a few minutes. It's worth a pound a month just for that!

[Auric Goldfinger]

Excellent Read Sir, Excellent pictures.   

 

 

Puts my "  Whats for tea " thread to shame..................

 

 

 

Edited 1 June, 2018 by Auric Goldfinger

[freelunch]

@Auric Goldfinger  More food shots, I say! 

[RickTT]

Thanks for sharing... looks like a great trip

[kentdale]

Just found this , thinking of our last years Christmas market trip to Wurzburg  and Nuremburg and the lovely scenery not to mention the welcoming people and great food.

Enjoyed your post.

Martin

[freelunch]

@kentdale  Ha! I'm guessing it will be awhile before I get to post another trip report! Glad you enjoyed this one.