210. Day 14: Some lines on a train…
Wending our way Westward ho today, don’t you know: training it across Germany before slipping into France to reach Strasbourg about time for a spot of tea and muffins, if the local eatery runs to such riches.
209. Day 13: Lucky for us…
I was honestly unsure what to expect from Germany. Having grown up in the Sixties, my image of Germans came from war films, prisoner of war stories and comedy stereotypes. As an adult, intellectually I learnt the difference between contemporary Germany and the Nazi party but until I saw it for myself, I’d not taken on board the incredible journey the German people have made.
This trip – and Nuremberg in particular – have been a real education.
The cottage on the left is where we are staying as guests of the lovely Fabien: a young man who works as a property developer. The building and the yellow house you can see to the right are more than five hundred years old. Inside, he’s done a smashing job on restoring a mad jumble of beams and levels.

All the other houses in the street are post-war.

On the night of 2nd of January 1945, over ninety per cent of Nuremberg was destroyed in bombing. All of the churches, the town-hall, more than two thousand preserved medieval houses as well as the residential area surrounding the centre were hit.

The restaurant where we ate last night had photos of how it looked before and then immediately after the bombing. Practically nowhere was intact.
This afternoon we went on a guided tour around the city and were able to see what a superb job the people of Nuremberg have done in its restoration. They really have recreated a beautiful place from the rubble and are justly proud of their home.

Yet again we were extremely lucky with our guide. Anya was knowledgeable and enthusiastic. She took us right through the history of the city from when it was part of Charlemagne’s Holy Roman Empire to becoming a Protestant Centre after Martin Luther. Luther himself visited the city twice and stayed in this car-park; only in those days it was a monastery.

Car park on right.
We learnt about the little bays which became a fashionable adornment to houses. Apparently, the city leaders wanted these forbidden on the grounds that a plain facade was more in keeping with the Protestant ideal. The householders responded by saying that these spaces were simply to give them more room to focus on prayer. Oh, that’s OK then, said the council. Go ahead.

These became known as Ladies Windows as ladies liked to sit there and watch what was going on outside. In between praying, of course.


Albrecht Dürer spent much of his life in Nuremburg, so there’s a statue of him, and a museum about him, and a house (above) which belonged to him and an airport named after him, and this statue which is quite recent but was inspired by one of his wood-prints.

Anya talked about the impact that the Nazi period had on the town. There is an archive and visitors’ centre documenting the history of that time; as in Heidleberg, we were aware that there is a determination to acknowledge what happened and learn from it.

The stones from the Nazi parade ground have been reclaimed to restore the floor of this old peoples’ home.
There were many places left in ruins after 1945, of course. But I’d never really appreciated how the German people after the War and then – for some – the Soviet occupation, had not just to reconstruct their buildings but also to completely rebuild their society from the ground up. What a task!

We’ve loved our time here: the places we have visited all seem clean and cared-for; all the Germans we have met have been helpful and friendly. Their transport system works like a dream: the mix of modern trams and bikes must be a major reason why the cities are so clean and pleasant. It’s been a brilliant country to visit and I’ve learnt so much. Tomorrow, we head for France but we’re both keen to come back to Germany next time we go travelling.
Now, we’re going to back into the city for an evening stroll before packing up for the morning.

208. Day 12: A night at the Opera…

Concert tickets bought on a whim – cheapest available – from a street vendor dressed in C18th garb (think Amadeus) – are never going to be the best seats in the house. Before setting off in our glad rags, however, I do check online to discover with some relief that the opera house does indeed exist, that we have paid the going price and, moreover, the concert is almost a sell- out. Continue reading →
207. Day 11: Take your partners please…
… for a quick waltz through today’s highlights.
- A visit to the Albertina Gallery to see their ‘From Monet to Picasso’ exhibition.
- ‘City highlights walk’ with our trusty Rick Steves audio guide.
- Purchase of tickets for concert tonight of Mozart and Strauss
- Packing up ready for tomorrow’s departure
and (drum roll)
- Figuring out how the dryer works in laundry down the road so we now have clean and dry socks.
Now need to get scrubbed up for tonight. Meanwhile, a taster from this morning:
206. Day 10: A Viennese Whirl…
We’ve come to an agreement, this apartment and I. I’m going to be grateful to it for providing a comfortable bed, reasonably priced, reasonably near the centre of Vienna. In its turn, the apartment will try hard to not resemble the set of a black and white cold war thriller starting Alan Bates and Richard Burton.
205. Day 9: wherever I lay my hat…
For about two hours today I really, really wanted to come home.
We’ve stayed in six different places so far on our tour: all booked through AirBnB (which should really be called just AirB, as there’s no breakfast involved, but I guess it doesn’t roll off the tongue so well.) There’s been a complete range, from the young couple in Cologne who sleep on their sofa so they can put up guests in their bedroom to the Salzberg apartment we left this morning, where we basically had our own Alpine cottage.
Without exception, we’ve been made to feel very welcome. When the owner lives in the rest of the house, they’ve greeted us warmly, chatted about the city and their jobs, recommended places to go and restaurants and then left us alone unless we asked for help. In the couple of cases where the owners have not been at home, they’ve arranged for some one to let us in and there have been notes waiting for us. We’ve been left maps, guide-books, useful information. In the case of our lovely Alpine cottage, Beate had also left two small bottles of prosecco in the fridge and chocolates on our pillows! Every new place has felt like a treat.
Until today.
Vienna is by far the biggest place on our Grand Tour and perhaps people are by nature not so friendly. We have an apartment booked for three nights. The owner had sent a message to say she’d be at work when we arrived and she’d arranged for someone to let us in and give us the key. She gave us directions from the station and we found the place easily enough: no tethered goats or triumphal arches to confuse us.
The apartment is in a functional gated block. We rang the intercom and Aforesaid Friend came down to let us in. Perhaps he’s always a low-key kind of cove; perhaps he was having a bad day. We trailed behind him to the flat – well, basically a bedsit room. He vaguely showed us around then, as he left, said that if any of the neighbours spoke to us, not to mention AirBnB.
So, either the owner is not supposed to sublet, or there have been issues in the past with tenants or – well, who knows? But the effect was to make us feel unwanted, uneasy, uncomfortable. There are no welcoming notes, helpful hints or personal touches. Perhaps we’ve just been spoilt up to now.
The apartment is clean enough but felt musty and stale. And then I really, really wanted to go home. Who needs Vienna? It means nothing to me.
Anyway, we walked around the neighbourhood a while, bought some flowers and a scented candle to make the room feel more cheerful.

We discovered a wool shop and a book shop: not that I need either but good to know they are there in an emergency. And there are some rather dashing buildings round the corner.

We came back to the room, had a cup of tea and watched Bake Off. All well and tomorrow we explore Vienna. Now going to practise some waltzes.
204. Day 8: Are you sitting comfortably?

Glory be, I’m tired! Today we did Salzburg: 16,959 steps on the pedometer if you are counting. So I fear you’ll need to make do with the highlights before I go completely onto standby. ActorLaddie is already knocking out the zeds as I type this.
203. Day 7: Show me the way to go home…

We’d promised ourselves some exploring in the Yorkshire Dales and, to that end, had picked up from the tourist centre a promising looking leaflet for a circular walk. As directed, we’d gone through the churchyard, and over a stile, and left at a gate. The next instruction read “turn right at the tethered goats.” Continue reading →
202. Day 6: to boldly go…
“I’ve just found a blog about this old couple who went interrailing,” I say.
“Can you go inter- railing if you’re old? I thought it was just for students.”
” Apparently you can and it doesn’t look that expensive. And if you’re really really old – like you are – then there’s a concessionary rate. Look, come and read it.”
“I can’t,” says ActorLaddie, “I need to stir the soup. Tell me about it.”
201. Day 5: and it’s not Potters Bar

Flowers and Firemen tying the knot,

Rivulets float any boat that you’ve got,

Erasmus lived ‘Ere and these are his bikes,

Installations are Art that my Pa really likes,

Band in the Marktplatz Beltz out a tune,

University student still sleeping at noon

Roads made for people not just for the car

Gargoyles

and Gates
Can you Guess where we are?


