24 March 2010
22 March 2010
Heading out of Munich last year, we indulged a whim. Perhaps not the wisest whim, one day after the libations of Oktoberfest, but always an educational, if draining experience. Dachau is not far away, and visiting it some 30 years ago seared itself into my memory. It needs no introduction - what information you need is a Google search, Amazon order, or trip to the library away - so here you are.
Posted by Frank Sellin at 8:47 PM
06 March 2010
Continuing on down the road from last year, we made the obligatory pilgrimage to the largest Oktoberfest I know of. The heck with taking photos of a giant amusement park with liter tankards worthy of serious arm curls, and non-Bavarian women in tourist dirndls that are way too shiny for any credible folk tradition. I thought it better to stick with a few more impressive sites and atmospheres:
First, the famous Neues Rathaus:
And, if you are there at 11 AM or 12 PM sharp, you are treated to the Glockenspiel, where courtiers dance, heralds trumpet, some foolish kids get hitched in bonds of holy matrimony, and...
...one hapless Don Quixote takes his daily thumping from some other passing hooligan on a drive-by:
Around the corner, you can stop off for lunch at a certain Hofbräuhaus...
...where a band in traditional dress uncorks the tunes in the room where the Nazis of the early 1920s used to drink and hatch putsch ideas. Eh, whatever, the food's pretty good, and so is the beer.
And the atmosphere is frankly far better on a clear October day when you're on the outside terrace.
OK, if you really must have a picture of Oktoberfest, here you are. It really is a 2.5 kg curl for the arm. Who says the drinking hordes are lazy?
Next Oktoberfest when I get back to Germany, I'm headed to a smaller town with less amusement park and more Deutsch in it.
Posted by Frank Sellin at 2:21 PM
05 March 2010
Yes, he was born in Eisenbach and employed for a time at the Georgenkirche just above. ;-)
Eisenach's other adopted favorite son wrote a lot of things on this desk in the Wartburg castle. In hiding.
That's right, Martin Luther.
Posted by Frank Sellin at 9:24 PM