Where Main and Rhine Meet

I awoke to the sound of gentle rain pattering against my window and realized that I needed an activity today that involved some being in doors.  Readers of this blog know how I love wandering through parks and woodland, but these are best left to days when thunderstorms are not part of the forecast. After making and discarding several plans, I settled on going to Mainz.

Like many very old towns in Southern Germany, Mainz was a Roman foundation and then became one of most important bishoprics in the Holy Roman Empire.  Its location at the confluence of the Main and Rhine Rivers insures that the city remains an important one.

I got my ticket making Sure this time, I had the correct date on it and took the train through the light rain.  It dripped all day, but I came equipped with my stout shoes and umbrella, and it's good I had both. I saw signs for my destinations, but I had long walk--longer in fact than it needed to be, but I had no city map and had to rely on the signage. But I ended up by the river (Rhine) and could see no sign of anything resembling the historic center.  I did come across the Natural History Museum.  I did not wish to visit it, but it occurred to me I could get directions from folks used to dealing with visitors.

And as usual, I was met with great kindness.  The ladies at the ticket desk dug up a city map for me and drew me a route.  I wandered through the pedestrian zone and suddenly emerged on a square where a market was taking place.

A market!  Even in the drizzle and with no idea where I was, my heart rose and I walked through admiring the stands of beautiful fruit, vegetables, and flowers.  Inevitably there were also sausage stands.

Then my eyes alighted on one of my targets--the Gutenberg Museum.  Mainz was the scene of one of the most significant technological revolutions in history--the European invention of moveable type--which fueled the Protestant Reformation and the Scientific Revolution among other things.  The museum has a wonderful collection of early printed books, many with marvelous illustrations.  The crown jewel is, of course, the Gutenberg Bible--the forty-two lines (per page) that changed the world.  Exhibits explained the different printing surfaces used parchment and paper for example and also explained how inks were made and the different requirements of manuscript and print.  Historic presses from different eras were also on display.

Then I visited Mainz Cathedral, Dom St. Martin, a magnificent Romanesque church in a beautifully harmonious design and containing a lot of wonderful carvings from various periods.  St. Martin lacks the heaviness often found in the Romanesque and seems to soar almost like Gothic.

I then made my way to the Landesmuseum.  Some of the Roman artifacts found in the city are there and there are very nice collections of Early and Late Medieval sculptures, Late Medieval Painting--panels portraying the life of the Virgin Mary are the highlight--and some Dutch painting.

What blew me away was the Jugendstil.  The furniture and other decorations were exquisite, but the glass work was beautiful beyond belief.  Don't miss it!

By that time I was worn out, so I made my way back home in the rain.  Dinner consisted of salad, Rinderwurst--has nothing to do with the river, it's beef sausage and wonderfully tasty.  And beer.  I tried a local brew called Bitburger a little fearful that it would not be as good as that in Bavaria.  I needn't have worried. It was the perfect accompaniment to the sausage and most refreshing to the spirit.

Not Taking the Waters in Wiesbaden

Except for the part where I screwed up my train ticket, this day went much more smoothly.  For one thing it was much cooler although still humid.  I needed an easy day out, and most museums are closed on Monday, so I chose to visit the spa town of Wiesbaden.  That element "baden" indicates a thermal spring or bath, and many towns in this area bear it.  Indeed one town on my itinerary bears it twice.

Moreover, Wiesbaden is the capital of the State of Hesse--much to Darmstadt's disgust.  Frankfurt merely shrugs its financial shoulders.  Since Frankfurt is the headquarters of nearly everything, the city can afford to be generous.

So I got my ticket from the machine and got right on the S Bahn and had a nice trip to Wiesbaden, and as we pulled into town I noticed signs of the historic center in a particular direction.  I was determined not to be fooled again.  I need not have worried. A Tourist Information Office sat right out in front of the station, but in fact Wiesbaden is so well sign posted, I seldom had to consult my city map. Needing to stretch my legs I took the twenty minute walk into the city center along tree lined avenues and handsome nineteenth century buildings.
Like many places that welcome visitors so graciously and genteely, Wiesbaden was built on vice. Most spa towns also feature casinos, and Dostoyevsky famously lost his shirt there.  The spas catered to those who needed to be put back together after prolonged and riotous self indulgence.  Today European doctors can proscribe spa treatment for a variety of ailments, and the national health insurance will pay for it.  Tourists need to shell out.  I did not, but I might have had I not been alone. Many spas forbid clothing, and some segregate the sexes.  The treatments sound lovely, but I do not fancy being naked and alone.

I strolled through the town to the main square and then down to peek inside the casino.  I had a lovely walk through the enchanting Kurpark communing with ducks and fountains.

I visited the "hot fountain," but it looked so steamy I did not have the nerve to try to drink any of the water.  All in all it was a very pleasant time walking around admiring the city.
Some general observations.  Germans appear always to be eating.  Indeed on trains, buses, and trams it seems to be a social convention.  One settles in the seat and then pulls out a bag--usually it's pastry. Yesterday I watched as a S Bahn rider sucked down beer after beer.  T shirts featuring some stylized version of the Stars and Stripes are quite popular among Germans.  I, being an actual American, take care to display no obvious signs of my nationality.
What about this screwed up ticket?   Clearly you got there and back again.
I bought my day pass from a machine, and the passenger is supposed to indicate the date of use.  I thought I'd indicated today's date, but I did not look very closely, and in fact my ticket read Gute am Aug. 1, and I didn't notice.  Yesterday I rode around, and no one ever checked my ticket.  On my trip out today on the S Bahn no one checked my ticket.  In Wiesbaden I took the bus back from the market square to the train station.  Ticket checking?  Nope.
After a short wait, I got on one of the regional trains back to Frankfurt Hauptbahnhof.  Almost immediately the conductor came around.  One can never tell when tickets will be checked, and by far most people play fair.  Being caught without a valid ticket results in a forty euro fine on the spot. But I had no worries.  I handed the conductor my ticket.
He looked at it.  Frowned.  Looked again.  He spoke to me in German.  I gathered there was some problem, but I explained that I spoke very little German and did not understand him.
Oh!  A foreigner.  No wonder.  Very likely to do something innocently but idiotic by accident.  He smiled and said, "It's ok."  Then he wrote something on my ticket. When he gave it back to me I discovered that he'd written today's date, and by being nice, he saved me forty euro!
For dinner I had the rest of the Maultaushen this time dressed with some left over grune soss for a real German experience.  The sharp, herby sauce was perfect with the pasta, and I guess that it would be great over anything starchy including non-starchy eggs.  This all got washed down with German rose.
Yeah, Pil that's my problem.  What's up with the wine?  Didn't you teach us last summer that German = beer?
That was Bavaria, meine Freuden.  This part of Germany is wine country.  I passed a lot of vineyards on the way to Wiesbaden.  But truth to tell, Germans love their beer.  Let's try some tomorrow.

Darmstadt

Sorry.  I couldn't come up with a cute title, but now that I have dined I am feeling better about life and am willing to call this a successful day in spite of numerous frustrations.
It all started out smoothly enough with my morning's walk to the Hauptbahnhof--and you readers had just better learn to love it as it will be my daily first destination.  I know how to use the ticket machines, so I was able to get a day pass for my destination.
Darmstadt.  Here it is Sunday.  I was looking for an easy day trip to a pretty place.  I had definite things I wanted to see and then I would be home in plenty of time for the Tour de France--which seriously is going to be A Very Interesting Race This Year.  And it's not that I don't appreciate the Copa Mundial, but it's a game with a ball.  The Tour purges through pity and terror.
I arrived in Darmstadt. I knew what tram or bus line to take to get to where I wanted to go.  I look for signs and tend to trust them.  In this case and in this city, it was a mistake.  I don't know if someone screwed up or it was an act of malice, but the signs sent me to the wrong exit of the train station.  I emerged and saw no bus stops or tram rails.  I walked.  Something told me that this was the wrong way.  I trust my intuition.  Now the best thing would have been to go back to the train station and go out the other side, but I spotted a tram and some bus stops on what looked like a main road and went there.  This was of limited help.  I did not want to go to Berlin.  I wanted the city center of Darmstadt. Well, I am fit enough, and I ended up walking about a kilometer and a half into town--where I found a festival going on.  Fun.  Stands offered food and drink.  Rides and games abounded.  Except I could not find what I came to town to see!  I had a futile detour on the way following another false sign. What!?
By great good luck--for a change--I found the tourist information office and also learned that the museum I especially came for was closed--only a walking tour of the city was leaving in five minutes and the kind ladies at tourist information promised to find me a toilet.  I did not want to waste the day so I signed up.
My guide was pleasant and well informed.  She spoke very good English as well.  This is my problem with tours, and it's mostly to do with me.  I have definite ideas of what I want to see and the knowledge to decide what I find intriguing.  A tour does not cater to my particular interests.  So we spent ten minutes, for example, in front of the first electric power station in Hesse. We visited a Post Modern culture center where scientific lectures occurred from time to time.  I confess I have almost no interest in the pharmacutical giant Merck headquartered nearby.  We saw the outside of the former Hesse-Darmstadt palace and heard some gossip.  I liked the gossip, although compared to the Wittelsbach, the Hesse-Darmstadt lot seem dull.
We ended up climbing to the Mathilde Hohe--something I definitely wanted to see.  And, moreover, the advantage of being on a tour appeared.  Darmstadt is famous for its Jugendstil (Art Nouveau) Artist Colony buildings.  Not only did we view the goodies from the outside, but my guide had the key to one of the original homes now inhabited by the German Society for Literature and Language. Both the exterior and interior were wonderful examples of Jugendstil with curvy lines and organic forms.  I did not want to live there, but I did like being able to experience it.
When we emerged it was hotter and even more humid.  The tour was soon over and my guide bid me a very gracious farewell, and I went off to seek the bus back to the train station.  Since I had forgotten the festival taking up the streets in the center of town, this was the futile action of a complete sap.
Eventually I realized this and proceeded--after having wasted twenty minutes--to a place where I could actually catch public transport.  THAT side of the train station was simply sick with bus and tram lines--yet the signs within--and I did check-- pointed in precisely the opposite direction.  Never mind.  I was desperately dehydrated by this time having walked and stood in hot sun and humid weather.  I got some water and caught the train for home.
For dinner I had some salad and then I cooked some Maltaushen, which is a sort of German ravioli. The kind I bought was overstuffed with spinach and pork.  I dressed them in a most unGerman way with olive oil and garlic.  But DANG! they were good and filling.  To drink I had a crisp, off dry German rose.  During the summer I like rose especially with pasta.  It was Dornfelder/Spatburgunder--not at all expensive and very nice chilled with food.  This sounds like I know what I am talking about.  Ha ha ha ha.
Guten Appetiten!

Green Eggs and Goethe

You know, Apfelwein is growing on me.  It's been extremely humid today, and when I got home and had some after my water, I found it very refreshing indeed.

Is that what the title of the post is about, Pil?

Oh, we'll get to that.  The forecast was for thunderstorms, which so far have not materialized, so I planned a town day where I would largely be inside.  Frankfurt is in fact very walkable--nice and flat with wide sidewalks and pedestrian areas.  I strolled to the train station and then on down Kaiserstrasse, licking windows as I went.  I had a two fold target.  I was eager to visit Goethe's House, but I also knew that nearby stood Der Zeil--a Major Shopping Street complete with futuristic mall and the Kleinmarkt--traditional rather than futuristic and full of Food.  As I arrived before the Goethe House was open, I strolled on to Zeil and entered the mall.  It's all curving glass and blending steel and at first blush reminded me of a roach motel in the sense that it was easy to enter and get sucked in, and very difficult to make one's way out!  I mentally complemented the designer on a strategic way to get folks to shop.

But I did find the exit, but then I got turned around and walked right past Goethe's House.  It worked out though because I found Deutsche Bank.  I use their atms because they are partnered with my home bank, and I don't have to pay pesky fees.  The exchange right is hideous enough without that.

Does the green in the eggs stand for money, Pil?

No.  Let's visit Goethe's House.  He is the towering figure in German Literature with still beloved poems, novels, and plays to his credit.  Johan Wolfgang von Goethe (the enobling "von" was a reward for his literary achievements) was both a seminal writer in the Romantic Mode, but a rather Enlightenment flavored scientific investigator of nature.  I saw the famous portrait of him yesterday at the Stadel lounging in an Italian landscape wearing his traveling hat and cloak, and looking rather like a pilgrim soul himself.  The painter screwed up though.  While Goethe's face looks intelligent and noble, the artist gave him two left feet!

The actual house was destroyed--well, you know--when the rest of Frankfurt was, but it's been faithfully reconstructed and is definitely worth visiting.  Even if you know or care nothing about Goethe's writing, you'll appreciate the late eighteenth century townhouse and the period rooms for a glimpse of how the upper middle class lived at the time and what interests they pursued.

Then I went back to Der Zeil.  The mall boasts one of the longest escalators in Europe and the World. Some People are so Immature, that when they learn of such things, they must ride up on them.  But you probably (cough) don't know anyone like that.

Now on the the Kleinmarkt.

For green eggs, Pil?

Well, not exactly.  A specialty of Hesse is Grun Sosse, which happened to be Goethe's favorite food. My purpose in going to the market was to seek it out and also to find some Handkaase.  Handkaase mit Musik is another beloved Hessan specialty.  There is no delicate way to put this.  The "music" is flatulence resulting from added onions.  I save that, but I hard cooked eggs and microwaved some potatoes, which I doused with the green sauce.  Goethe knew what he was about and so do the rest of the Hessians. The green sauce is creamy but sharp and herby.  It's great on eggs and potatoes.
The Kleinmarkt--the name means small market--may not be large, but is it ever packed.  What does your tum desire in the way of meat, poultry, fish, dairy, fruit, or veg?  If you should fancy alpine cheese or Italian pasta or even Persian nuts and herbs.  It's all waiting.  I'll need to go back obviously.

Across Bridges and Along Museum Row

Guten Tag!

One feature of European travel, at least as I do it, is figuring out the "system."  For example if it were not for the kindness of one of my fellow guests yesterday, I would still be in the elevator vainly pushing the button for the third floor.  The "system" here is different from the "system" in Munich. We have touch cards in Frankfurt.  They do not swipe.  This is easier to comprehend after some sleep. Also one has to insert the card in the card slot next to the door before the lights and utilities work. This appears to be common in Europe, so I figured it out.  And then there's the plumbing.  I got everything to work yesterday, but it was only this morning that I realized how they worked and how I could control it all.

I had a pretty first full day here.  I am responsible for my own breakfast, so I started out with a lot of strong tea and some rye bread with melted cheese, and very nice it was. Then I made my bed, swept up and did the dishes.  I am not in one of those swank rooms where this is done for me daily.

After consulting my map, I set off.  I needed to stretch my legs and I knew that if I got tired, I could take public transport home.  I walked back to the Hauptbahnhof but walked by it and proceeded down to the Main and across the bridge.  The southern bank of the Main is referred to as Museumsufer, which I have chosen to translate as Museum Row.  It's a genteel rather than bustling quarter of the city with leafy chestnuts lining the streets and fine houses--now converted to other uses.  My first stop was the fine arts museum called the Stadel after the man who made the original collection.  I got in for half price with my Frankfurt Card.  Indeed the thing more than paid for itself today.  There is a distinguished collection of late Medieval and Early Italian Gothic.  I found a small Virgin Enthroned by Jan Van Eck enthralling.  I got a good close look and saw every detail exquisitely finished and the texture portrayed so beautifully I could almost feel the velvet beneath my fingers.  Vermeer's Geographer is there as well. Amazing!  If you are a fan of Max Beckman his works are on display and very powerful they are--and very unpleasant, too.  Go if you really like art.  If you could take it or leave it, spend your time and euros elsewhere.

I also scored a free ticket to the sculpture museum, the Liebieghaus.  In the late nineteenth century, it was a luxurious neo classical villa on the banks of the Main.  Now it holds a variety of statues from Ancient Egypt on.  I found the Late Medieval polychrome wood carvings especially impressive.

Then I walked on down the Main to the Museum of Applied Art (Angewandte Kunst auf Deutsch).  Most visitors appeared to be there for the park-like grounds and cafe.  I used my Frankfurt card to get my half price admission.  One building is dedicated to Bauhaus and Twenty-first Century Post Modern and you can keep the latter as far as I am concerned.  The visit continues in a sort of eighteenth century townhouse and features period rooms and an audio guide.  Now we're talking! Germans in Frankfurt appear to conflate Baroque and Rococco and the displays include that and nineteenth century Biedermier, and well as Art Nouveau--Jugendstil in German.

By that time the afternoon had grown warm but I crossed the Main on the Eisensteg.  There's a European custom, lately imported to the United States of engaged couples writing their names on padlocks and locking them to the sides of bridges and then tossing the key into the river..  There's one in Paris, too, so weighted down by the locks, they've had to forbid any more.

I took another quick stroll around the Romer and visited the Dom. Frankfurt Cathedral was destroyed in  World War II, so one visits a reconstruction of the Gothic church where they used to crown Holy Roman Emperors.  I happened to arrive during a service, so I stood in back and looked around while the soaring music made me forget my tired feet for a while.  Some tourists were walking around. Please don't do this.  It's so disrespectful.

By that time the afternoon had grown hot, and I was worn out.  I took the U Bahn back to the Haupbahnhof and made my way home via the shopping mall for dinner and groceries.  Yay!  I found hummus for breakfast.

Nice.  What's for dinner?

That old German classic Fisch und Chips mit remoulade.  The shopping mall has a branch of the German chain Nordsee that I first encountered in Vienna.  When I got home I had some water, because it's vital to stay hydrated.  I had some apfelwein and nuts as an appetizer.  I always pack a bag of nuts.  They make a handy healthful snack.  I did not like the apfelwein any better, but I got some Reisling from the Rhine region to go with my dinner.  Shall we have a sip?  That's very nice for something I just pulled from the grocery store shelf following my five Euro rule.  It's on the dry side but not very dry.  I believe I detect notes of tropical fruit.  Seriously!  I am not being snarky for a change.

Guten Appetiten!

¡Hot Dog!

We get it, Pil,  You're in Frankfurt.  Sheesh!

You don't get it.  Hot dog--it's what's for dinner.  Yes.  I am having a frankfurter in Frankfurt!  How cool is that?  But don't go thinking this is anything like Oscar Meyer or what you get at the ballpark. This is the Real Deal.

But first.  I had a smooth trip over.  Normally I get some three hours of (bad) sleep on the plane, but this time I got none.  I tried, but I was in a noisy cabin and there were active and loud kids in the row behind me.  Kids kick seat backs.  I did when I was a kid.  So karma.

But I arrived all right.  At passport control the nice German policewoman asked me where I was going. "Frankfurt," I replied, puzzled.  Why was she asking me where I had arrived?  Then it occurred to me.  Frankfurt Airport is a major transfer point--I've gone through myself.  She was screening passengers for those who needed to go to a gate rather than out to baggage retrieval.

I obtained my bag and then went looking for a Frankfurt Card.

Oh no, another of those cards!

Yes.  Deals aren't exactly thick on the ground in Frankfurt, but even if you are only taking the S Bahn to transfer to the train to elsewhere in the Hauptbahn Hof.  The card gets you into town for less than the normal ticket, and if you have time to spare you get public transportation and reduced admission to a lot of museums.

The ride into town is fairly short, and I fetched up at the previously mentioned Hauptbahnhof and set out for Citadines.  I found it easily enough although I took the long way around.  My room was not ready, but I expected that.  I put on my contact lenses and smeared myself with sun screen and took off.  I went back to the train station and picked up the U Bahn or subway for the historic center.  I got out at Romer and was almost immediately accosted by a beggar.  My total of beggars for the day was three.
The Romer is so called because this was once a Roman Camp and the market town grew up around that site.  It's beautiful and charmingly touristy!  I had a nice walk around and ended up by the banks of the Main.  But my brain had begun to buzz alarmingly, so I cut my visit short and took the U Bahn back to the train station where I had ascertained I could obtain Frankfurter. Then I went home. . . to find my room not ready.  Fortunately cold water is available in the guests lounge, so I sipped and watched the BBC.  And then the receptionist told me there was a problem, and it would be even longer.  I went across the street to the fancy, modern shopping mall to the grocery store.  I only had my small shopping bag with me, so I could not get much--just providing for breakfast tomorrow mostly, but I did get a bottle of Apfelwein to go with my frankfurters.  So let's talk food.

Finally!

Apfelwein is ok.  I have had it before, and I was hoping it would be better on its home ground.  If you are a cider drinker--it doesn't taste like cider.  It does not have much of an applely or any taste, but if you come to Frankfurt you need to try it anyway.  But the wurst is the best!  One gets Frankfurter in pairs, and at an imbiss you get a German bun with it, but to be really authentic the bun gets left on the side and one eats the frankfurter with a knife and fork, dipping the pieces in mustard as one goes. This is what I am doing.  The "dogs" are longer and thinner than the U.S. version and the skin is snappy, and the flavor is superb.  It's very satisfying after a long, long day.

Mainhattan

Hey, Pil, I thought you were going to Europe, but it looks like you are headed for the Big Apple.
Look again!  It's more like der grosse Apfel.  My destination is Frankfurt am Main--one pronounces the name of the river "mine."  The nickname stems from the fact that Frankfurt is a business metropolis full of skyscrapers, a sky line not very common in Germany.  The city is the headquarters for the country's largest banks (and as a consequence is also known as Bankfurt), as well as the European Stock Exchange, and hosts frequent international trade fairs.  The most famous is the Book Fair held, I believe, in October.
So I could swing over after I attend Oktober Fest in Munich.
And you could, too, but unless expense is no object, I would advise not.  When the business folk descend on the city, hotel prices go through the roof.  It's the old law of supply and demand.  Dates of the trade fairs or Messe are readily available on line. That's how I was able to pick my dates and to afford coming here.
But why are you going?  The last time I heard about Frankfurt was when I read Heidi.  It's not on tourist radar is it?
Usually not.  After all look how long it took me to get here.  Frankfurt is not known for its charm, and even among Germans has the reputation of being all business.  Nevertheless, there is plenty of history and art on offer, and the city makes a great base for exploring the region.  Much of Frankfurt suffered the same fate, i.e. being bombed into rubble, as other German cities during that Unpleasantness in the early 1940s, and the historic center and many churches are reconstructions.
Frankfurt was a Roman foundation and the northern limit of the Empire's control called the Limes is not too far north of the city.  But the city got its name, according to legend, when Charlemagne arrived.  The story is that he and his pals went out hunting, and the deer they were after escaped by running across the River Main.  "Hmm," said Charles or Karl, since we are in Germany, "Must be a ford there.  What a great place for a market town."  Hence the name Ford of the Franks.  Because of its strategic location Frankfurt became the place where Holy Roman Emperors were elected and often crowned.  Its status as a Free Imperial City allowed it to flourish and begin to host those international trade fairs I mentioned earlier.
So let's leave business aside and go seeking history.  I can promise plenty of intriguing museums, glittering palaces, looming castles,as well as the romantic Rhine, and the mysterious Black Forest.
And food, Pil?  Say there's food!
Food and drink, too.  I won't let you down.  Please join me!