The Kehlstein (Eagle's Nest)
Berchtesgaden, Germany
In the summer of 1998, Tom and Tam traveled to Germany on a business/pleasure trip with two good friends, Roy and Mary Jasper. It was our first visit to many parts of Europe, and was an unforgettable (often hilarious) experience ...
Full-length video: Europe '98
Thursday, July 9, 1998
Battle Creek, Michigan
Cincinnati, Ohio
Departure to Europe
With Europe still on the other side of the world, Tam and I enjoyed a quick soak in our hot tub, contemplating the travels ahead. Shortly afterward, the kids burst into our bedroom at 8:00 am, still excited from their early birthday celebrations the night before. Tam’s folk’s had come up from Florida to care for Michelle and Laura for the next eleven days. They were in for a challenge!
We finished some last-minute packing and made a trip through the Burger King drive-through for lunch before heading up to Kent County Airport for the first leg of the trip from Grand Rapids to Cincinnati (Delta Airlines flight #1889). It was at CVG that we met Roy and Mary Jasper. Roy was Archway Cookie’s Vice President of Sales; he and I would attend a three-day military commissary conference in Garmisch, Germany. Wrapped around it would be several days of vacation traversing Europe; Switzerland, Germany, Austria, and France.
During a three hour layover, I decided to get a haircut with the airport barber. Located in the bowels of terminal one, it was a two mile walk. I found the shop in the basement after several wrong turns and several more dark tunnel-like hallways. There it was … Ben Moore’s Barber Shop. I saw Ben cutting the hair of a customer between bites of a Big Mac. The shop was filthy and the floor was littered with the hair of dozens of previous clients. I should have turned around right then. However, I spotted a new copy of Playboy Magazine on the chair. I sat down and began to read the articles.
Ten minutes later, Ben finished his customer, pulled off the cape from around his client’s neck and placed the scissors and comb down. He then welcomed me, took another bite of his sandwich, put the same apron around my neck and picked up the same comb and scissors. The black vinyl was greasy and wet. I imagined cooties running all over my neck. After what seemed an eternity, Ben finished. I paid the guy and blew out of there. I immediately went to the first men’s room I could find and doused my hair several times. When I got back to the Delta Crown Room, Mary gave me some shampoo and I washed my hair again.
The four of us wandered down to gate B-6 for our flight to Zurich, Switzerland. We boarded the 767 and discovered large leather first class seats, a world-class spa cuisine dinner menu and a welcome gift. This was traveling in style! (It should, at a cost of 360,000 frequent flier miles!)
We lumbered down the runway on time, with wheels up at 7:14 pm. We set our watches six hours forward and sat back for the much-anticipated flight to Europe. We paralleled the southern coast of Lake Erie at 29,000 feet and the sun quickly set behind us. Tam toasted the beginning of a wonderful trip with French Chablis wine. We ate dinner while watching an episode of Home Improvement on our video screens. The spa cuisine was a touch ‘too healthy’ for me. It was seventy percent bean sprouts.
The plane rocked and rolled in light turbulence from Maine to England as we chased a storm system across the Atlantic Ocean. Before reaching the European continent, the sun had already risen again after only four hours.
Friday, July 10, 1998
En Route To Europe
Zurich, Switzerland
Lucerne, Switzerland
Mt. Pilatus
Nothing but cloud cover all the way. Eventually, we dropped out of the clouds on approach and found rolling, hilly terrain with irregularly-shaped farm plots and small villages.
Zurich International Airport was a gray concrete structure, reflecting an exciting new modernism. Slightly old but cool at the same time. We walked what seemed to be miles up and down escalators. Then we walked through what appeared to be a huge shopping mall before finally finding an elevator and taking it to the fifth floor Hertz counter. My name was listed on the Platinum Club sign and we were helped almost immediately. We filled out several forms, including one that dictated that we would not drive into Italy or Czechoslovakia due to insurance regulations. We were warned that in Italy, roaming gangs would stop cars and hijack them for their parts. I was instantly reminded of Detroit back home.
We were escorted to our blue Mercedes Benz 300 and quickly discovered that we had more luggage than space. Three large bags shared the back seat with Mary and Tam. We agreed that Roy should be our driver.
It was good to have him around, because he never lacked confidence, no matter the circumstance. I greatly admired him for that. Besides, he was an incredibly fun guy. No telling what crazy stuff might happen on this trip!!
We set out for the Baur au Lac hotel in downtown Zurich. After driving for more than an hour, we decided to use a map. Even then, we struggled to find the hotel. When we finally pulled up, the parking lot had only enough room for five cars.
We quickly dropped off our bags and headed for Lucerne, about 54 kilometers away. The drive to Lucerne was beautiful. Our tired eyes saw winding roads that followed a quickly moving stream for miles. The countryside was mostly agricultural, with small communities sprinkled about. We arrived in Lucerne to find a neatly manicured village of about 60,000 spread around a lovely harbor on a spider-shaped lake.
In the center of town was the famous Kapelbrucke Bridge. It was considered to be the oldest wooden bridge ever built. Legend has it that it was constructed in 1330. It featured intricate hand-painted artwork on the triangular roof beams. Each beam told a unique local story. Unhappily, the original bridge burnt down in 1989. It was rebuilt and reopened on April 14, 1994. So it was the newest-oldest bridge in the world. Nevertheless, it was a beautiful example of Bohemian design and culture.
Despite signs that warned ‘No Dogs’ it seemed that everybody had one. It was hard to look up at the bridge artwork and down where we were walking at the same time. We ate lunch at the Amadeus Restaurant at the foot of the bridge. We all had soup and salad, except for Tam who had raised rump.
In the travel brochures, Tam had read about a major tourist attraction in the Lucerne area. Pilatus Mountain was said to be the spot where Pontius Pilate was confronted by the devil after the crucifixion of Christ. The literature said that Pliate ‘wafted’ … whatever that means. The attraction also boasted of the steepest cog railway in the world. We set out for this landmark after lunch. We drove in circles for about thirty minutes and even made an unfortunate right turn on red at a downtown stoplight (more about that later). Finally, we stopped a young man walking down the street. He could not speak English very well. Still, he read my map and uttered, “Oh Yes! Pilatus!” Then he pointed at a small town on the map and repeatedly shouted “Kreeeeeens!!” Whoa. With wide eyes, we all looked at each other, thanked the dude, and rolled the windows up. He was very helpful, even if he did have shaving cream behind his ear.
For the balance of the day, this became our joke du jour … screaming “Kreeeeens!!” at the top of our lungs. Stupid, yes, but we were all slap-happy after not having slept for 32 hours.
We turned around and found the Pilatus tram without much difficulty. we paid almost 2000 Swiss francs for train tickets and jumped onto the lifts. Into the clouds we went. As we slowly climbed, we saw hundreds of Swiss people making day-trips up the mountain on foot. We also saw dozens of brown Swiss cattle casually eating and lying around. All of the them had cow bells strapped around their necks which created a unique clanking and clanging sound in concert with the chirping of birds and the wind in the pine trees. About two-thirds of the way up the mountain, we switched lifts to a larger, faster, and more heavy-duty model. We continued, even steeper, into the fog with brief terrorizing views of rock cliffs until we reached the top of Pilatus, where we found a hotel and gift shop. The summit was buried in clouds which made viewing impossible. The temperature was at least fifteen degrees colder than at the base. The sight of vertical rock disappearing straight down into the soup was a thrilling experience.
Behind the visitors center was a crumbling stone stairway that led to the mountain apex at seven thousand feet. We didn’t come this far not to go all the way, did we? There were signs, written in German, warning people not to walk on the trail and bridge due to recent rains and frost. We could not read German, so we climbed the treacherous and slippery stone and wood steps that faded into the fog. Little did we know that this was a narrow three-foot wide crossway, with no handrails, and sheer thousand-foot drops on either side. Deep in the pea-soup, we eventually reached the top of the mountain. We all looked at each other, bent-over and panting hard, each breath condensing into the cold air. Suddenly we all realized just how tired we were after traveling half the world and climbing a mountain.
We headed back to Zurich and checked into our hotel rooms (433 and 434). Our accommodations were very nice. Sort of a newer, better-kept version of the Drake Hotel in Chicago, only much smaller.
We all cleaned up and walked from the hotel down to the Bahnofstrasse Shopping District. It was a fabulous evening! I walked for blocks hand-in-hand with Tam among hundreds of full-sized fiberglass cows decorated and painted with unique designs. The cow is the national symbol of Switzerland. This art show on the street was a creative and memorable diversion. We ate dinner at Planet Hollywood. Upon finishing, we all blankly stared at each other and decided to go back to the hotel or risk collapsing at the dinner table. We enjoyed the slow walk back to the Baur au Lac, window shopping and enjoying the bucolic beauty of Zurich. We finally got to sleep after staying up for thirty-six hours.
Saturday, July 11, 1998
Zurich, Switzerland
Lake Bodensee
Neuschwanstein Castle
Zurich was established by the Romans at the base of a long lake in central Switzerland. In 1998, Zurich boasted a population of 360,000 and was the largest city in the country. It was also the center of international finance and trade in the region.
Tam and I were still sleeping when we were called by Roy and Mary at 8:19 am. Tam jumped up to shower and went out to breakfast with them. I stayed to work on the journal and study maps of the day’s destinations. At 10:00 am, I walked out of Baur au Lac hotel to take pictures of Lake Zurich. What I found was an incredible street-side flea market. Hundreds of vendors were set up in the square between Talstrasse and Bahnofstrasse. Thousands of shoppers wandered among the tables. If you were looking for anything old, you could find it here … a vendor selling old hats … a vendor selling old pots and pans … a vendor selling old American memorabilia, license plates, and Coke cans. One vendor was selling a unique collection of foreign movie posters. Another was selling bootleg European CDs. I bought quite a few.
I have no idea what possessed me to buy an old U-boat sailor’s cap.
At 11:30 am, we piled into the car and began to drive north, stopping at a scuba store on the way out of Zurich. European scuba equipment, such as Poseidon, was considered the finest in the world. The store had a complete collection of Poseidon gear, but it was way overpriced. Besides, the car was packed to the gills anyway.
We drove up highway #1 to St. Marguerite at the southernmost end of Lake Bodensee, a huge and breathtaking lake that borders Switzerland, Austria, and Germany. We exited at the Bregenz turnoff and wound up in a long line of traffic. After several minutes of waiting, we discovered it was a border customs inspection station. We had driven into Austria without knowing it! At precisely twelve noon, we pulled up to the guard. He looked in, saw Mary and Tam under the massive pile of luggage and said, “Ah, Americans” and instantly waived us through. No passports. No stamps. No questions. Only a slight smirk.
About ten yards past the border we spotted a lovely restaurant, the Schallert Cafe. We sat on the side veranda watching cars entering and leaving Austria while we enjoyed handmade thin-crust personal pizzas. The food was excellent and the waitress friendly, even though she couldn’t understand a word we were saying.
Soon, we were on our way to Germany. After a six kilometer-long tunnel, we broke out of the dark and saw the German checkpoint straight ahead. Roy blew right past it at 120 km/hr. There was nobody there! No passports. No stamps. Not even a wave or a nod. We drove through the Bavarian countryside on narrow two-lane back-roads with the foothills of the Alps gently rising on both sides of us. Our Mercedes cruised through several small burgs with clean streets, well kept homes, and prominent church steeples. Towns with names like Mittelburg, Nesselwang, and Wertach.
Eventually, we found the Autobahn and were immediately blown off by a couple of Porches easily doing a hundred miles per hour. Within a few seconds, Roy was hot on their tails. After a quick thirty miles, covered in eighteen minutes, we were forced to exit due to highway construction. All the time we gained on the Autobahn was lost back-tracking through dirt roads and farm fields near Fussen.
We pulled up to the parking lot of Neuschwanstein Castle at 4:45 pm. Plenty of time before closing time of 5:30 pm, or so we thought. Unbeknownst to us, we were confronted with a three and half mile walk straight uphill to the castle.
The signs said that this climb would take twenty-five minutes! Roy and Tom took this as a challenge and began marching up the mountain, laughing and joking. Someone going down heard us and offered in English, “Save your energy for the top. I would would pace it if I were you.” Typical Americans, we blew him off. A few minutes later, there was no laughing or joking. We were sure that each turn on the trail would reveal the castle. No such luck. Only another trail going straight uphill. After ten minutes of hard climbing and covered in sweat, the boys reached the ticket booth where they waited for the ladies (who arrived surprisingly quickly). We made it in time for the last English-speaking tour of the day.
Neuschwanstein Castle is one of three built by King Ludwig II in the Bavarian Alps. It is an incredible example of Romanesque and Gothic architecture, built between 1869 and 1886. It was the castle chosen by Walt Disney to use in his famous Disneyland Cinderella’s Castle design. Despite its exquisite external beauty, we were surprised to find that its interior was only one-third finished. Even the throne room was without a throne. Once inside, it was easy to understand why. The fifteen rooms that were finished were astonishing. Gold leaf everywhere. Hand-laid marble mosaic floors and intricate hand-carved woodwork. It took fourteen carpenters four and half years to finish just the royal bedroom.
The upper floor was an exact replica of a famous opera hall as a tribute to Ludwig’s ‘special’ friend, composer Richard Wagner.
King Ludwig II was crowned king when he was eighteen years old. He was a well-known eccentric. His extravagance with the public till, well known homosexuality, and bizarre behavior led to actions by the Bavarian government which deposed him on the grounds that he was insane. The next day, he and his doctor were found drowned in the Stramberger Sea. It has never been ascertained whether this was an accident or an assassination. The unfinished castle is now his legacy … and is considered one of the most impressive and unique structures in the world.
After finishing the tour, we continued to Marienbrucke Bridge which spanned the deep gorge behind the castle. The view of the castle from the bridge is one of the most beautiful sights we had ever seen.
The walk down the mountain was as difficult as the walk up, due to the severe slope of the trails which were still damp from recent rains. An older Asian couple tried to ask us for directions, we pointed down and they came along with us. They didn't know we were as lost as they were. Next to the parking lot was the BierGarten Restaurant which served us outstanding brats, kraut, and strudel. Everyone except Tom, who wussed-out in favor of pizza.
Happily-fed, we piled back into the car and turned south from Fussen toward the Austrian Alps. Again, Checkpoint Charlie was vacant. At Reutie, we took the Deutsche Alpenstrasse through the mountains toward Garmisch. The clouds parted as we sliced through the gorgeous German Alps. Again, we passed back into Germany without acknowledgement. We popped back onto normal roads around Ettal, Germany and continued toward our ultimate destination. The Grand Hotel Sonnebichl in Garmisch.
We arrived in Garmisch just after dusk and found a wonderful community nestled at the base of the largest mountain in Germany. Zugspitze towers majestically over the city at nearly ten thousand feet. Its sister mountain, Augspitze, is a skiing mecca. During the summer, many countrymen climb to the summit of both mountains as a national pastime.
Garmisch is actually two towns. Garmisch and Partenkirchen. Tourism is the primary industry. In fact, as Germany’s premier alpine resort, it hosted the 1936 Winter Olympics and the World Skiing Championships in 1978.
Predictably, we got lost in the Garmisch downtown district, which looked surprisingly like Aspen, Colorado. We pulled into the Grand Hotel Sonnebichl just as a wild charity dance was kicking off in the parking lot. Since most of the staff was partying outside, the front desk manager also served as bellman and valet parking attendant. He could speak fluent English and turned out to be a pretty funny and laid-back guy.
Tam and I observed while walking through he lobby that the hotel had definitely seen better days. Once in our room, our suspicions were confirmed. Dirty carpets, cracking walls, and damaged furniture. Our mattress was literally on the floor. Still, we were staying in the finest suite in the place, which overlooked the rocking party going on just below. We danced to Twist and Shout in the bedroom before settling in.
While in bed, reviewing our trip itinerary, I discovered three serious scheduling problems; a premature checkout in Garmisch, a premature check-in at Munich, and EuroRail reservations made for the wrong month. We called and left a message for our travel agent back home.
The party continued in the parking lot until 2:30 am, when they ran out of beer.
Sunday, July 12, 1998
Garmisch, Germany
Linderhof Castle
Oberammergau, Germany
The Grand Hotel Sonnebichl was considered the finest hotel in the area. Built by Georg Bader and his family in 1898 (almost the same time as Schloss Neuschwanstein) the hotel remained a local landmark. For one hundred years, the Bader family had continued to operate the inn. The family was fighting hard against the ravages of time to maintain its former splendor. It would be a difficult task, costing millions, to bring it back to its original condition, and they obviously couldn't accomplish it.
Tam and I rolled out of bed at 8:30 am. I didn’t sleep that well. Our king (two twin mattresses) on the floor had no sheets. Just a well-worn duvet. But the view outside our window was magnificent!! Bright sunshine reflected off the snow-tipped peaks of Zugspitze and Augspitze.
After a quick buffet breakfast, we were off to another of King Ludwig’s castles, Linderhof. Located a few minutes north of Garmisch, the crowds for Linderof Castle were swelling. Most of these people were locals enjoying a Sunday outing. We bought tickets and wandered down a long trail. Our legs ached from the previous day’s ascent of Neuschwanstein. We came upon a huge white swan. I got Tam to pose with it for moment, but as I was getting the focus just right, it stepped up and tried to take a chunk out of Tam’s leg. It was really funny, at least until the pain set in.
Linderhof Castle was completed in 1878 for Ludwig II and modeled after the Petit Trianon in Versailles. It sat in a valley, deep in the heart of the German Alps. As a crow flies, it is thirty miles from Neuschwanstein. The castle (or ’schloss’) is much smaller and is not as spectacular as the king’s other designs. Still, it is a lavish example of Renaissance and Baroque architectural styles. And at least this one was finished! Each room was intricately painted and detailed in gold and silver. Silk upholstered furniture and rich tapestries were present in every room. His bedroom featured a huge oversized royal bed, eight feet long. Ludwig was tall, measuring at somewhere between six feet four and six feet six inches.
The Room of Mirrors was opulence brought to its extreme. The mirrors magnified the size and number of everything in the room.
We walked through the fabulous flower gardens featuring gold cherubs and massive stair-step waterfalls to the famous underground cave grotto that was modeled after Wagner’s Opera Tannhauser, complete with golden swan boat and custom lake. We finished the tour in about two hours, walked past the same 'killer' swan and jumped into the car.
A few miles down the road, we stopped at Oberammergau to look for hand-carved gifts and crafts. We stopped for lunch at Cafe Hochen-Leiter where we munched on goulash, tomato soup, and boiled mini-brats. We sat under the shade of outdoor umbrellas and reflected on the alpine beauty that surrounded us. It was good.
The entire afternoon was spent in Oberammergau, a storybook village of winding cobble streets. The 'Frankenmuth of Germany.' Literally dozens of shops with artisans busy at work in their shops, making mostly religious artifacts; Virgin Marys, nativity scenes, and crucifixes of all types. There were also shops selling intricate cuckoo clocks and music boxes. Mary and Tam purchased several items for family and friends back home.
The four of us returned to Garmisch to investigate other hotels in the area. The General Patton Hotel was still operated by the United States Army and only had rooms with twin beds. It was still as institutional as it must have been during the war. We opted to stay at the Sonnebichl.
Near the Patton Hotel was Lake Eibsee, where we sat by the water’s edge and enjoyed a few cool drinks and took in the spectacular view of Zugspitz.
Mary wanted to see the local Catholic church in Garmisch, so we stopped by for a few minutes. We enjoyed listening to the church choir practicing in the near-empty sanctuary.
We ate dinner at American Bar Santa Fe, a street-side cafe. However, there was nothing American on the menu. We were served some sort of spinach pasta in unique ceramic bowls, even though it wasn’t what we ordered (at least we thought we didn’t order it). It was fantastic!!
Back at the Grand Hotel Sonnebichl, we took a quick dip in the pool and baked in the sauna. We all headed to bed early to catch up on the sleep we had lost over the previous days.
Monday, July 13, 1998
Berchtesgaden, Germany
The Kehlstein (Eagle’s Nest)
Innsbruck, Austria
The town of Garmisch had a year-round population of sixty thousand, and a little-known fact is that it was the home of composer Richard Strauss. There were many monuments in tribute to him sprinkled throughout the area. Roy navigated us to the Garmisch Train Station, where we successfully changed our Euro Rail reservations. Roy refused to go any further without stopping for breakfast at a popular downtown diner he had spotted. We would be heading on a long road-trip and we needed all the energy we could get!
We piled into the Mercedes and pointed toward the southeastern corner of Germany; Berchtesgaden. It was the most beautiful day of the trip so far. A deep blue cloudless sky. We began northbound on route #2 and connected with the Autobahn at Oberau. The gorgeous weather permitted unusually fast driving and we reached a top speed of 205 kpm (130 mph) without any sense of impending danger. We cut across the countryside on route #472 where we stumbled onto a United States Army Cemetery at Miesbach. We continued to Berchtesgaden on A8, crossing Lake Chiemsee and passing through Salzburg, Austria.
Soon, we were winding into the parking lot for The Kehlstein (better known as Adolf Hitler’s Eagle’s Nest). We had to park a mile away and walk to the bus station to buy our tickets. Our ride departed at 11:50 am and we began the unbelievable four and half mile twisting ride to the top. Initially, we wandered through the dense forest and then began a slow climb. Suddenly, we exploded into the open with an incomparable view of Berchtesgadner land. Ultimately, we drove nearly nine thousand feet up to a large plateau-like parking lot. We disembarked and scheduled our return for 2:20 pm. We then entered through a large arched armored entrance and proceeded down a long tunnel to a set of golden elevators. The elevator took us up nearly four hundred feet to the villa.
The Kehlstein was a popular destination long before the Third Reich. It was when Hitler came to Obersalzburg, however, that it took on historic significance. During the 1930s, a road was built near the summit of the mountain. This was an outstanding accomplishment in itself. The road was built on the vertical side of the mountain for six and half kilometers, climbing three thousand feet in altitude and requiring the construction of five tunnels. Once the road was completed, an elevator shaft was blasted out of the mountain and finished in hand-chiseled stonework. The elevator climbed three hundred seventy feet to the summit of the mountain.
The Eagle’s Nest villa was built of granite and furnished with valuable tapestries and antiques. Originally built as a fiftieth birthday present for Hitler, it served mainly as a tea house for Eva Braun. Historically, it was the location of the famous negotiations between Neville Chamberlain and Hitler. These talks led to the 1939 Munich Peace Accords that Chamberlain claimed would lead to ‘peace in our time’. Hitler ignored the agreement and continued building his army and plans of world conquest.
The Eagle’s Nest was not damaged during the allied air raids of Berchtesgaden on April 25, 1945. However, it was confiscated by the American military and held until 1952 when it was re-instated as a possession of Bavaria.
On this magnificent day, Eagle’s Nest proudly stood, perched on the edge of Kehlstein and covered with a smattering of tourists. Heineken sun umbrellas spread along the ridge like dandelions and brat stands smoked away into the thin air.
I carefully investigated the entire building. There was only one small place that marked the historical nature of the place … a small eagle and swastika design that had been carved into the huge fireplace. It had been touched and defaced so many times that it was nearly impossible to see. There was not one other sign of the Third Reich anywhere to be seen. No swastikas. No Hitler pictures. No military markings of any kind. Several yards from the house, a couple of anti-aircraft turrets were almost completely obscured in brush and ground cover.
The view from the hills behind the Eagle’s Nest was positively breathtaking. Unlimited visibility. We could see the Austrian Alps, Salzburg and the flat east European plain stretching out beyond.
It was the most incredible view I had ever seen in my life. There was a picture taken of Roy and me standing at the top. This photo, taken with a wonderful friend in an unforgettable moment, is one that I will cherish forever.
Under the Heineken umbrellas, we ate lunch and basked in the mountain air. For the second time in two days, I was given the wrong lunch. More kraut. I hate kraut.
By 3:30, we were in our blue Mercedes and on the road to Innsbruck, Austria. We cut across route #312 to the Autobahn (A12) and trekked southwest. The Austrian countryside was steep, green and lush. More mountainous than Germany. Large ski chalets and giant castle ruins sprinkled the countryside. As we approached Innsbruck, the mountains became bolder and more impressive. We pulled into a welcome center to obtain information on the area. We gathered several maps and pamphlets which proved very useful. I asked the volunteer how long it might take to take a quick tour of Innsbruck. He said, “About two weeks.” We all laughed, knowing we had about three hours, but we soon found that he was right.
Innsbruck is one the most historically significant cities in Europe. It was first settled by the Romans. It became known as “Innspruke” in 1187. It was the residence of Maximillian I and his wife. He built the famous Golden Roof for his second wife in 1494. Innsbruck University was founded in 1669. When Napoleon conquered Austria, Innsbruck was ceded to Bavaria and it eventually reverted back to Austria in 1814. Innsbruck was heavily bombed and virtually destroyed in World War II. Rebuilt, it hosted the 1964 and 1976 Winter Olympics.
Of course, none of us knew any of this (with the exception of the 1976 Olympics) when we whistled into the city. Tam and I split up with Mary and Roy as we headed for the old town. Old it was! It reminded us of what we thought an eastern European city might be like, lots of old world buildings, stone streets, and overhead trolley car electrical lines.
The first thing we found was Maximillian’s Imperial Palace. Named Hofburg, it was a large white building with gold leaf balconies. The Palace was built in 1640 although it appeared well preserved.
We walked down a narrow cobblestone alley called Rofgassestrasse in the old part of town. It was crowded with pedestrians, many of whom were into leather, tattoos, and short dresses. Old town had become a popular nightclub spot. We were captivated by the odd juxtaposition of old world architecture and new wave lifestyle. Obviously Innsbruck showed that it was a healthy and vigorous city by embracing both of these extremes.
In the center of town was the famous Golden Roof (unfortunately being renovated and covered by scaffolding). In the opposite direction, looking down Fredrichstrasse, we could see a long cobble street with thousand year-old shops running down either side. But off in the distance on the hills surrounding the city was a reminder of modern times … the Olympic ski jump tower, aimed directly toward the center of Innsbruck.
The St. James Cathedral was built in 1180 and survived the December 16, 1944 bombings of World War II. It was a magnificent example of Baroque architecture. We sat quietly and admired the wonderful carvings and other artwork as rain began to fall. Threatening rain clouds had rolled over the towering mountains west of the city. Still, we ate a relaxing meal at Restaurant Ottoburg in the city square. Yay! I got what I ordered!
The four of us hustled back to the car and drove back to Garmisch in the pouring rain. We drove the mountain pass into Germany as flickering lightning and rumbling thunder pounded the hills around us. But this did not dampen our spirits.
It had been one of the best traveling days of my life.
Tuesday, July 14, 1998
Zugspitz
Partenkirchen, Germany
We met Mary and Roy at the same table we had every day for breakfast, with expansive windows looking up at Zugspitze. The Grand Hotel Sonnebichl was growing on us. Our first stop of the day was at a local store for undershirts. Yes, I had forgotten to pack them … and my razor had blown up. We investigated the local grocery store nearby, where I found a razor, but my cash was in too large a denomination for them to make change. So we had to find an ATM.
Then I realized that what I really needed was a German/English dictionary.
All that morning, Roy and I attended a military commissary conference, the ALA European Conference, while the girls continued shopping. During a break in the conference, I slipped out to visit a local military antique shop where I purchased what I thought were highly collectable Luftwaffe and SS pieces. German law prohibits vendors from displaying any swastikas on merchandise. This does not prevent them from selling the items. The vendors simply place tape over the offending image and sell the stuff anyway. It seemed like a pretty silly law. I asked the vendor if he had any really good Nazi stuff and he walked out to his car and pulled out a bag and brought it in. We sorted through a number of badges, knives, and other militaria. I purchased several badges and armbands. Roy purchased a Nazi-Youth knife.
After the meeting concluded, we went back downtown to pick up the girls. Having arrived early, we walked across the square to McDonalds for coffee and french fries. Man, they were good … way better than kraut!! After a while, Tam and Mary showed up with a new razor and undershirts. (By the way, I used that razor for the next ten years.)
The four of us drove west to Eibsee where we boarded the cog rail train to Zugspitzplatt.
Most of the ride, more than three miles, was in a dark tunnel. We emerged at 2,500 meters high where we disembarked. Here, on a small snow-covered plateau, one thousand feet from the top of the mountain, we walked up to one of the highest churches in the world. The Zugspitzplatt Chapel was built in 1980 from the donations of wealthy local businessmen. The chapel made a simple but powerful impression against the barren backdrop of stone and snow.
Just above the chapel was a massive ice glacier that had been there for a thousand years. Dozens of German school kids were enjoying a summer snowball fight.
We ate lunch at the mountaintop ski lodge, Sonn Alpin. Brats and soup once again. More shopping at the Zugspitze gift shop before we boarded the short lift to Zugspitze summit (2,964 meters). At the summit, temperatures were in the teens. Also, extensive cloud cover obscured most of the mountain, giving everything an icy sheen. Of the hundreds of people at the summit, there were two wearing shorts ... an old German guy … and Roy. They noticed each other and high-fived each other in a kind of half-wit bonding experience. Needless to say, we spent most of our time inside the summit station.
From a window, we watched as five professional mountain climbers swung from the building to a four foot wide rock ledge and climbed the twenty-foot high permanent ladder up to the exposed granite, snow-covered peak. A sign prominently pointed out: CAUTION: Beyond this point are typical alpine dangers!! No kidding! For a moment, Roy and Tom looked at the summit … then each other … and said simultaneously, “I could do that.” Mary and Tam briefly stood in silence until Roy said, “Let’s find the cable cars.” To which Tam quickly chirped, “Ok.” And we all left. Immediately.
The way down from Zugspitze was much faster than the way up. The high speed Eibsee cable car reached the bottom in less than ten minutes.
During the afternoon, we all shopped in Partenkirchen. Then we returned to the Sonnebichl to get ready for the ALA Conference cocktail party at the Patton Hotel. We arrived late to the party due to a large cow that loitered in front of our car in downtown Garmisch. However, we still made our essential business contacts with several key military decision-makers.
Afterward, we found a small back-alley Italian restaurant by the name of Milano. There were only three tables in the place. What a wonderful, intimate dining experience! We enjoyed some of the finest authentic Italian cooking in a long time. The owner was getting ready to close up shop, move to California, and take his chances there. We wished him luck.
We all enjoyed a relaxing sunset walk through Garmisch. The sidewalks were bustling with local businessmen, farmers, and livestock. As long as you watched where you were walking, the experience was very quaint.
Wednesday, July 15, 1998
Garmisch, Germany (ALA Conference)
Munich, Germany
It was all business for Roy and Tom on this day. The ALA European Conference at the Abrams Conference Center was an important event for food suppliers to the military in Europe. The ladies spent the day shopping again.
Our meeting concluded at three o’clock and we soon met Mary and Tam, packed up the car, and drove to Munich. We had acquired so much stuff that Mary and Tam could no longer see each other in the back seat. The discomfort did not last long as Roy put the pedal to the metal on the Autobahn and covered the fifty miles in twenty minutes!
Getting to Munich was one thing. Getting around Munich was quite another. My maps of Munich were packed in the trunk and we attempted to navigate without one. Clearly, it was a mistake. It didn’t help that it was rush hour in Munich and we drove right into the heart of old town. In fact, we were so lost that Roy drove right through old town, even where it was marked “Pedestrian Only”. We even drove by a cop in the plaza who looked at us and saw the trauma going on inside and decided not to bother with us.
Eventually, we found the Bayerischer Hof Hotel. What a departure from the Sonnebichl. The 1998 Frommer’s Guide To Germany describes the Bayerischer Hof as the “Bavarian version of the Waldorf-Astoria."
Established in 1841, legend has it that King Ludwig I used to come to the Bayerischer Hof to take baths, since the royal palace didn’t have a bathtub. Sigmund Freud and Empress Elizabeth of Austria both called the hotel home. Enrico Caruso regularly performed in the Grand Ballroom. It was almost totally destroyed in the Allied air raid of April 25, 1944. The Volkhardt family rebuilt the property over the next twenty years, and by 1998, there were three hundred forty guest rooms and sixty suites. It is considered one of the Classic Hotels of the World.
The hotel was busier than usual. Performing live in the Night Club Bayerischer Hof that night were the Oscar Peterson Quartet, as part of the Muncher Klaviersommer Jazz Festival. Several recording trucks were on-site to capture the performance for German television.
As dusk approached, we took a brief tour of old Munich. We turned left out the hotel and headed down cobblestone streets until we confronted a large gothic-style building, compete with gargoyles and giant clock tower. This was the Altes Rathaus (New City Hall) which was built in the nineteenth century, replacing the really-old city hall. In front of the structure was a large open plaza called the Marienplatz.
Twice a day, the Altes Glockenspiel chimes and reenacts two stories from the 16th century, with forty-three bells and thirty-two life-size figurines. The shows last twelve to fifteen minutes. Finally, a small golden rooster atop the glockenspiel chirps three times, marking the end of the spectacle. Huge crowds often gather to witness the performance. We happened to wander into the Marienplatz as the show was beginning. Our timing was perfect.
We walked across the Marienplatz to St. Peter’s Church, the oldest church in the area, built in 1180. Inside was one of Munich’s most bizarre attractions. In the second chapel on the left were the bodily remains of St. Mundita. It stared at us with two false eyes in its skull as it reclined on its side. Jewels covered the bones and surrounded the eye sockets.
We also toured the Michelskirche (St. Michael’s Church). Built in the 1500s by Duke William the Pious, it was nearly destroyed by allied bombing raids in 1945. Inside were the tombs of several of the Wittelsbach family (founders of the village of Munich) But the most notable person buried in the church is “Mad” King Ludwig II (the builder of Schloss Neuschwanstein). He was buried in the crypt beneath the chancel.
The downtown plaza was alive with people enjoying the lovely evening. Most of these people were young, but all walks of life were represented. Musicians, mimes, and other pan-handlers were feeding off the large crowd as they communed in the Marienplatz.
Our next destination was perhaps the most famous in the city, the legendary Hofbrauhaus beer hall. The current building was built in 1897 but there had been a beer house at the location since 1589. The Hofbrauhaus was where Adolf Hitler launched his notorious German workers party in 1920. Fist-fights erupted as the Nazis attacked their Bavarian enemies inside the beer palace. These days, five thousand beer drinkers crowd into the beer house every night and fights are strictly incidental. An eternal Oktoberfest!!
We sat outside in the garden and drank beer in gallon-sized steins. The food was okay, but the beer was excellent … especially the Rattler (a combination of beer and lemonade).
We noticed that we were surrounded by lots of other Americans sitting at nearby tables. There were busloads of Japanese at tables nearby too. It was definitely a tourist mecca. Across the street was a Planet Hollywood, making its own appeal to tourists.
Back at the Bayerischer Hof, we purchased Munich subway tickets for our morning trip the Dachau Concentration Camp. Relaxing in our room, we watched CNN broadcast covering the largest celebrations in Paris since the liberation of World War II. The cause … France had won the World Cup Soccer Championship by beating Brazil 3-0 … and on Bastille Day!! We would be in Paris in two days to join the celebration.
Thursday, July 16, 1998
Dachau Concentration Camp
Munich Olympic Village
Munich was founded twelve hundred years ago on the banks of the Isar River, located on the famous salt route linking Augsburg and Salzburg. In 1180 the Wittelsbach family came to power, which they retained until the end of World War I (1918). They were the longest running dynasty in Germany and were considered benevolent despots.
After World War I, the leftists briefly took control of Germany until Hitler’s “Beer Hall Putsch” attempt to overthrow the government. Even though Hitler was thrown into prison, he used this time to write his infamous treatise Mein Kampf and re-establish a base of power. By 1933, Hitler had seized power in Germany. In a small town north of Munich named Dachau, Hitler’s troops raided the Wittelsbach family palace and converted it into a concentration camp and torture chamber.
The concierge at the Bayerischer Hof had recommended that we take the subway train to Dachau, so we bought tickets and proceeded to the Marienplatz subway station. We were supposed to board the S-2 train, which we did. But we boarded in the wrong direction. We discovered this mistake quickly, jumped off and re-boarded going northbound. After a brief twenty minute ride through the sunny German countryside, we arrived at Dachau Station. A sudden pall fell over the entire train as “Dachau” signs repeatedly and slowly whisked by our windows. As we came to a stop and disembarked, we could sense a stillness in the air. After a short cab ride to the camp, we walked along the outer perimeter of the high barbed-wire fence, turned a corner and approached the main gate. The famous wrought-iron Dachau camp gates welcomed us with “Arbeit Macht Frei” (Work Will Set You Free).
We walked through the gates and approached a large billboard map of the facility. The original camp was comprised of a few administrative buildings, thirty prisoner’s barracks, a garden, and a separate area just outside the camp called the Krematorium. All but two of the barracks were gone. Only their concrete foundations remained. The administrative building was converted into the museum, which very completely and effectively explained the history of the camp. There were many over-sized black and white photographs of atrocities such as torture, starvation, and human testing programs.
In 1933, the camp was a small scale operation, handling five thousand prisoners. However, as the Third Reich gained power, it grew to accommodate the increasing number of arrests and incarcerations. By 1938, the Nazis had rounded up the Jews and Polish as prisoners of war and the Dachau population mushroomed to thirty thousand people.
Dachau was also a major camp for Russian soldiers captured at the eastern front. In 1940, more than four thousand Russian prisoners were shot at the camp.
In 1941, Himmler gave permission to conduct human tolerance experiments on prisoners. Documented programs involved cold water and high altitude tests, all of which were fatal to the subjects.
As the war wore on, additional prisoners arrived at the camp. Between 1944 and 1945, more than 109,000 new prisoners arrived at the camp. Near the end of the war and reaching a point of desperation, Hitler ordered the construction of hundreds of crematoriums at concentration camps. Dachau built several crematoriums and began to put them to use as part of the “final solution.” Even though Dachau was not primarily an extermination camp, tens of thousands of people were put to death in gas chambers and cremated in the buildings just outside the camp.
I was shocked by the well-engineered cremation area, designed for maximum efficiency. Gas chambers were large, with several drains for easy cleaning. Just beyond the door was a warehouse for body storage until cremation. The crematorium itself had several ovens lined up in a row. Someone had thrown fresh flowers onto one of the gurneys that slid into the cremation ovens. Above the ovens were meat hooks and a sign that read “Bodies awaiting cremation were hung here”. As we left, I turned around and looked up at the smokestacks. I could imagine the hideous stench of burning flesh.
In April 1945, the camp was liberated by the American army. After reviewing the well-documented records of the camp, the following were noted:
Dachau Concentration Camp
1933 - 1945
206,206 prisoners *** 31,591 deaths
Throughout the camp were several large memorials and solemn artworks dedicated to those who endured what happened at Dachau. One was an abstract sculpture of skeletal bodies stretched out in death. Another was a Polish figure of Christ bunched up and holding his head in sorrow. The most profound of the memorials was the Jewish symbolic recreation of a mass extinction oven with a Menorah rising out of the chimney.
Walking through the camp, Tam and I had a sense of disbelief that anything so brutal could have occurred there. Even more striking was knowing that all of this had taken place less than a lifetime ago.
It was a searing experience for Roy and Mary too. The Jaspers were so moved that they could not stand to tour the camp. They chose to visit a Catholic nunnery across the street. The brutality was more than they could take. I don’t blame them. The train ride back to the hotel was a quiet and reflective one for all of us.
Once back at the hotel, we checked-out and then checked our bags. We also took advantage of the moment to freshen-up and cleanse our minds. We took a cab ride to Olympia Park, location of the 1972 Summer Olympic Games. The park, well known for its avant-garde style of architecture, incorporated fiberglass ‘tents’ that integrated many of the buildings. In some ways it was reminiscent of multiple circus tents. They came in useful, too, as it began to rain and the pavilions gave us excellent cover. Our first stop was the swimming venue, where Mark Spitz won seven gold medals.
A brat stand served up a quick lunch while we waited for the rain to subside. In the meantime, Roy found a coin-operated soft-service ice cream dispenser and bought ice cream cones for every kid in sight.
The four of us took an elevator to the top of the Olympia Tower. At 185 meters high, we had a great view of the olympic village as well as downtown Munich and BMW Corporate Headquarters. Crews were still cleaning up inside the stadium after a Rolling Stones concert the night before. Opposite the stadium, I could also clearly see the Olympic dormitories where the Israeli Olympic Team was abducted, and later killed, by Palestinian terrorists. I didn’t mention it to anyone as we had experienced enough tragedy for one day.
We walked across the street to the BMW Museum where we saw a special motorcycle presentation featuring bikes from 1924 to 1998. The museum also highlighted several collectible and prototype automobiles which caught my eye. Roy liked the bikes.
We rode back to the Bayerischer Hof hotel with a wild-man cabbie who almost killed us. However, he did enlighten us that the BMW logo was a stylized version of an airplane propellor... BMW made airplanes before they made cars. The blue and white colors are the colors of Bavaria. So there's that ...
Back at the hotel, we agreed to split up and shop on our own, and then meet for dinner. Tam and I looked for more militaria and mementos and I finally hit pay-dirt. I found a shop that specialized in Nazi collectibles. I wanted an SS cap or helmet. The store manager had both, but he also wasn’t too keen on selling them, at least based on his prices. The cap was priced at 3,650 DM (about $1,800) and the helmet was more more than double that. Forget it.
We met at 5:00 and looked for a place to eat. Roy, Mary and Tam found a nice vegetarian spot. I ate across the street in a Thai restaurant. The chicken and coconut soup was outstanding and it was a blast watching Chinese people speaking German.
We turned in the car at the Hertz parking lot at the Miriam Hotel, a block from the Hauptbahnof Train Station. I turned in the keys while Roy dealt with our train tickets. A 9:03 pm, we departed Munich for Paris in an old, musty, train with tiny double bunks. No toilet. No shower. Underneath the bunk was a bedpan that smelled terrible. This was EuroRail First Class.
We departed Bavaria having seen and learned so much about the region and its long and colorful history, as well as its geographic beauty. I was also impressed by the people … their friendliness and willingness to help travelers such as us. Almost everyone we met knew some English. We enjoyed every minute of it.
Next stop, Paris!
Friday, July 17, 1998
Stuttgart, Germany
Paris, France
The Louvre
We cruised though the Stuttgart Rail Station at 11:30 pm. I knew this because I could not sleep on board the train. None of us could. This was partly because of the condition of the train and the rickety ride but also, perhaps, we were all anticipating our arrival in Paris.
We pulled into the Paris Train Station (Gare de L'Est) at 7:30 am. Roy and Mary found a porter for our bags and went to the taxi stand. Tam and I obtained French francs at a local bank machine. We took two cabs directly to the Hotel de Crillon.
The Hotel de Crillon is perhaps the most historic luxury hotel in Europe. It was built on Place de la Concorde as a palace for King Louis XV in 1758. The French-American Treaty of 1778, recognizing the Declaration of Independence of the United States, was signed in the lobby by Benjamin Franklin and Alexandre Gerard de Rayneval.
During the 1791 French Revolution, King Louis XVI and Queen Marie Antionette moved into the building and lived there for two years, until they were guillotined directly outside the front door.
The Crillon family took possession and lived in it for a hundred years before the Societe Du Louvre acquired the property and turned it into a hotel (78 guest rooms and 46 suites). It opened in 1909, and since then, guests have included Theodore Roosevelt, Woodrow Wilson, Winston Churchill, Charlie Chaplin, Ernest Hemingway, Alfred Hitchcock, Sophia Loren, Leonard Bernstein, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Madonna, Jennifer Lopez, and Taylor Swift. The Marie Antoinette Suite costs $70,000 per night.
Our suites were not ready, of course, so we walked up the Champs-Elysees toward the Arc de Triomphe. We noticed two important things:
Paris was still cleaning up after its World Cup Soccer Championship and Bastille Day celebrations.
There were way too many police and military personnel spread throughout town.
We discovered that Syrian President Hafa Assad was making a state visit with French President Jacques Chirac. This was a highly controversial visit because of Syria’s connections with terrorists.
We passed the first McDonalds we saw on Champs-Elysees, but we didn’t pass the second one. I had a delicious Egg McMuffin and Diet Coke for breakfast. What a great break from kraut!!
The Arc de Triomphe was much larger than we had imagined. What’s more, the monument was on top of a knob, making it seem even bigger. The morning sun cut through the clouds. A perfect day for picture taking. A huge French flag hung from inside the arch, gently waving in the breeze.
We crossed all eight lanes of the street and wandered down Marceau Avenue toward the Seine River. Dozens of small fashion boutiques and local bistros were sprinkled around the neighborhood.
The street dead-ended into the Place de L’Alma. A newsstand on the corner featured a magazine with a large picture of Princess Diana on the cover and her date of destiny … August 31, 1997. I asked the vendor where the accident occurred. He pointed right behind me and said, “Zee tunnel.” The L’Alma Tunnel was only about a hundred yards long, but quite narrow and the approaches from both sides were curved, narrowing them further. Furthermore, square pillars separating the travel lanes made navigation at high speed risky. Anyone entering that tunnel at 100 miles per hour was asking for serious trouble. When Diana’s car hit the thirteenth pillar at full speed, even the armored Mercedes Benz she was riding in could not save her.
Above the opening to the tunnel was a small gold-leaf flame war monument that for years languished in obscurity amongst the other massive obelisks and statues in the city. Since that terrible day, it has become the unofficial monument to Princess Diana, covered with flowers, gifts, pictures, and poems.
From the Place de L’Alma, looking across the Seine River, we had our first unobstructed view of the Eiffel Tower. Yup. There is was! After years of seeing it in romantic movies and television shows, in real life it seemed more delicate and detailed. Also, strangely, it had a unique brownish tone to it.
We turned away and headed back toward the hotel, knowing we would make a special trip to the tower in the next two days. We paralleled the Seine River on the Cours la Reine and returned to the hotel, only to find more heightened security. The French President’s residence was two doors down from the Crillon, just on the other side of the U.S. Embassy.
We dropped off a few excess bags and took a taxi to the most famous art museum in the world, The Louvre. We arrived at the famous I.M. Pei glass pyramid and took an escalator into the basement lobby. Basically, the Louvre was three museum buildings tied together. each building represents a different period or culture. We bought ‘first visit’ guides and used them to help facilitate our tour. We walked from room to room to room to room. The dang museum went on forever!! It was difficult to give each piece the attention it deserved. Furthermore, it was someone’s dumb idea to see every foot of the place in one day. Ok, I admit it ... it was my idea.
After more than six hours, we trudged out of the Louvre having seen (or at least glanced at) almost every work on display. The highlights were:
Mona Lisa: Hidden behind a protective bullet-proof glass case, she leisurely looked out at thousands of people pushing and shoving to get a good picture.
Venus di Milo: She looked exactly like the pictures, but up close, the marble finish wasn’t as smooth as other similar sculptures we saw.
Liberty Guiding The People: A well-known mural-size painting of a topless lady liberty carrying the French flag into battle. Just like the French to add sex to the whole war thing.
Winged Victory: The famous headless female body with wings was much larger than we imagined. Also, the stone finish had discolored slightly, turning it a brown-orange.
Plus, there were dozens of artworks where we stopped and shouted, “Hey, I know that one!!” The nearly all of the pre-Rennaissance artwork was religious in theme. There were hundreds, if not thousands of paintings and sculptures featuring either Jesus Christ or Mary. We learned that secular art evolved slowly throughout the sixteenth century, with the support and influence of wealthy patrons, such as the Medicis.
Near the Louvre was a huge shopping district, including a multi-story Bon Marche store that beckoned Mary and Tam. Once seduced inside, the girls shopped for another two hours before giving out. By then, we were really dragging and finally checked into the hotel at 5:00 pm. Tam and I enjoyed a romantic room service dinner, complete with complementary champagne from the hotel staff. That champagne put us to sleep fast.
Saturday, July 18, 1998
Paris, France
Cathedral of Notre Dame
Pere Lachaise Cemetery
Eiffel Tower
"When I had money, I went to the Crillon."
Ernest Hemingway
After a wonderful night’s sleep at the Crillon, Tam and I were ready for another busy day in the City of Lights. We were fifteen minutes early to meet the Jaspers, so we decided to walk past the U.S. Embassy on Rue de Gabriel. Just beyond the embassy was a tall black iron fence that ran for blocks. We came upon a massive gate with a large gold symbol and giant gold rooster on top. There were at least ten police and dozens of private security milling around. This was the official residence of the President of France. Tam got so excited that she shook her orange juice all over herself, jacket, shirt and face. We hustled back to Crillon so Tam could change her shirt before meeting our cohorts.
Our first stop of the day was the Cathedral of Notre Dame. The cathedral was first built in 1163. The chancel and altar were consecrated in 1182 but the magnificent sculptures surrounding the main doors were not put into position until 1240. The building remained unchanged until the seventeenth century when the famous rose windows were removed.
During the French Revolution, a mob hacked down the statues of the Kings of Israel, thinking they represented French royalty. In 1977, some of the heads of these statues were found stored away in a bank vault.
One of the more historic events that occurred at Notre Dame was when Napoleon crowned himself king in 1804. History was about to happen again with our arrival on July 18, 1998. Pulling up to the plaza in front of the church, we were disappointed that most of the front of the building was obscured by scaffolding. There were also dozens of tour buses in front and thousands of people waiting to go inside.
Despite this mass of humanity, we were able to squeeze our way into the cathedral through the Portal of St. Anne. Once inside, our eyes needed several moments to get accustomed to the darkness. Heavy stone walls and pillars and dark brown wood facade and bench seats made the interior seem ‘heavy’ and cave-like. We walked along the right side of the Nave and were able to get to the transept. We could get no closer to the chancel; a religious service was in progress. But just when we were turning to leave, the service ended and the gate opened. We saw the elderly bishop leaving after the service and took it upon ourselves to take pictures of the Pieta sculpture in the center of the sanctuary. We were now standing in the chancel built by Louis XIV who vowed, after twenty-three years of marriage, to build one in honor of the Virgin Mary if his queen produced a son. The event came to pass and Louis was good to his word.
Then we slipped into a special portal of the cathedral to view the chalices of previous bishops and cardinals. To our surprise, the elderly bishop stepped out to greet us as he was leaving the chancel. He struck up a conversation, in English, with Mary and Tam. They stood there, awestruck. I video-taped the entire event. He asked if Tam was from the United States. Tam responded, "Yes. From Michigan." He welcomed the girls to step closer and then showed them his Bishop’s Ring, which was centuries old. We were all blown away and very grateful that he took a few minutes to be with us. Spectacularly cool!!
Mary and Tam lit special candles at the Sacred Virgin Mary shrine before walking outside.
So how do you top that??
Around the corner, you could pay for the privilege of climbing 387 tight, circular stairs to the top of the bell towers for a view of Paris. Popping out of the staircase, sweating and slightly out of breath, I was welcomed by several gargoyles (who happened to look identical to the ones in the Walt Disney movie The Hunchback of Notre Dame).
There were two large towers with a connecting walkway. these were the the familiar stomping grounds of the fictional Quasimodo. In the south tower, we were able to climb the rickety wooden staircase up to the huge Notre Dame bell that Quasimodo rang with regularity. I gave the bell a good shove. I don’t believe it moved even a millimeter.
We walked back down the spiral stairs to the plaza in front of the cathedral and entered the Crypte Archieologique which contained the remains of previous churches and other relics dating to times before Christ. After the incredible cathedral … I’ll admit it was bit boring.
Next, we stopped at the Musee de L'Orangerie to look at the impressionistic works of Monet, Degas, and Renoir. We were all pleasantly surprised. The room-filling Waterlilies murals by Monet in the basement were simple, elegant, and moving.
We walked back to the Crillon for a short break before lunch and requisite pilgrimage to the Paris Hard Rock Cafe. What a wonderfully warm feeling it was to see an English menu without sauerkraut or escargot! We dropped a few bucks buying memorabilia before leaving.
At this point, we decided to split up and spend the afternoon on our own. Tam and I headed for Pere Lachaise Cemetery. We flagged down a cab and Tam attempted to speak with him in French, with limited effectiveness. we made three U-turns before we finally got headed in the right direction. The taxi pulled up to the giant gates of the cemetery. We got out and wandered in. It was like a large city of the dead. Tens of thousands of markers and stone houses of all types, as far as we could see. Winding through the property were cobblestone trails. The bright sunlight sifted through the tall trees, creating a lovely and peaceful shaded walk.
At the Hard Rock, we asked the waiter about Jim Morrison’s grave. He knew all about it and said, “Just follow the parade of people wearing black leather.” We thought he was joking. He was not. Sure enough, as we stood at the front gates, we saw a constant procession of unsavory Morrison fans on their own pilgrimage to see the Lounge Lizard. We jumped behind some of them and followed for several hundred feet when suddenly, there it was!
What we expected versus what we saw
The grave was essentially a three-foot square granite cube with a copper description plate on the front. It was relatively inconspicuous. It was nothing like the Rolling Stone magazine photo we had seen of the tomb, covered in graffiti, flowers, drugs. and other offerings. The placement of a twenty-four hour security guard had put an end to the night satanic rituals that took place at the grave. About a dozen worshippers were there, along with Tam and me, of course. There were other people buried there too. Colette, LaFontaine, Oscar Wilde, Edith Piaf, Victor Noir, and Fredrick Chopin. Chopin was located about forty yards from Morrison. Nobody came to see him except us.
Back with the Jaspers at 4:30, we all set out for the Eiffel Tower. Our taxi driver pointed out where Diana bought it when we went under the Place de L’Alma. There were still skid marks and a good-sized chunk missing from that pillar.
We popped out of the tunnel and were soon directly underneath the tower. Wow!! It was mind-blowingly imposing close up ... and incredibly rich with engineering detail! Each leg of the tower had an elevator that delivered passengers to a mezzanine level before changing to larger and faster central elevators to the top. Tam and Mary waited in line for thirty minutes before discovering that the line was for stair climbers only. We switched lines and waited another hour to take the west elevator. We noticed signs that informed us that the top was closed due to overcrowding. At the very instant we got to the ticket counter, they took the signs down and we got a ride to the top! What a lucky break!
The Eiffel Tower was built by Gustave Eiffel for the World Exposition of 1889. It was designed so that even the worst winds would not sway the seven thousand ton tower by more than four and a half inches. The French people initially hated the tower and it was almost scrapped in 1909. But Eiffel was able to convince the populace that it would serve as an excellent radio antenna. Eiffel lived in a small apartment at the top and received many dignitaries such as Henry Ford and Thomas Edison.
At the top of the tower, I took pictures of Tam with a special card that Michelle had made for us to carry during the trip.
Once back on the ground, we abandoned the huge crowds milling around returned to the Plaza de Concorde for dinner. We walked straight to a cafe around the corner from our hotel. The restaurant’s name was Minims. The food at Minims was excellent but the wine was even better. Two bottles later, we walked, slowly, back to the hotel and hit the sack.
Sunday, July 19, 1998
Paris, France
Versailles
Dinner at Les Ambassadeurs
At 9:00 am, sharp, we walked to the Concorde Metro Subway train station where we boarded #12 for Sevres Babylon. We connected with #10 to Javel and walked to a different subway system called RER. We just missed our train and waited forty minutes for the next one. Eventually, we disembarked in the town of Versailles and walked about a mile to the Chateau du Versailles. The great palace of French royalty.
Louis XIV wanted to escape the rowdy city of Paris so he decided to move out to the periphery. Versailles, located ten miles to the southeast was where the king’s father had a hunting lodge. What arose from the country setting was one of the largest, most opulent palaces in the world. The chateau took twenty-eight years to build (1662 to 1690). It is so large that it supported twenty thousand noblemen, servants, and hangers-on. Several generations of French royalty lived there as well, including Napoleon and Marie Antoinette.
It was at versailles that Bismark proclaimed the unified German Empire in 1871. Forty-eight years later, the controversial Treaty of Versailles, asserting Germany’s responsibility for World War I, was signed in the Hall of Mirrors in 1919.
It was a brilliant Sunday morning. Most of Paris turned up to visit the palace along with us. Tam and Mary got in line ‘A’ for unguided tours. Roy and I looked for them at the entrance and did not see them. We gradually scanned back down the line and saw them at least a quarter mile from the entrance. We made a strategic move to purchase a guided tour, saving the wait in line. This enabled us to get a scheduled tour time of 2:05 pm. With three hours to spare, did the outdoor self-tour and then walked downtown for lunch at the Hotel de Ville Brasserie Cafe. Sitting outside under another Heineken umbrella, we enjoyed a delicious gourmet brunch. Our timing was perfect! We got back to the palace just in time for our tour.
From the outside, Versailles was impressive, in fact, downright imposing. Behind the chateau was a massive two-hundred fifty acre park with spectacular fountains and gardens. Behind that was the Grand canal, which stretched three miles into the distance. Nothing but grandeur!
But inside, although large, it was not finished with the same eye for detail as the grand castles of Germany. For example, Versailles had lesser-quality wood floors and plaster walls (with faux marble paint). The rooms were also less detailed, with less precision and sophistication, compared to Neuschwanstein or Linderof. It was as if most of the budget was focused on building size rather than interior design. Still, I had to remember that Versailles was two hundred years older than King Ludwig’s projects. One factor was that the crowds were so enormous that people were literally wall to wall, making it impossible to truly appreciate the palace.
We quickly headed back to the Hotel de Crillon via the subway so we could clean up for the one and only fancy dinner of the trip. The 1998 Fodor’s Travel Guide to Paris described the Crillon’s Les Ambassdeurs as ‘undoubtedly the finest restaurant in Paris.’ This meant that we had to wear formal attire. I actually wore a suit because that was aIl I had. This high level of decorum automatically took the restaurant down several notches in my book ... Tom’s Casual Travel Guide To The World.
We arrived for our 7:00 pm dinner reservation on time and opted to sit in the reception area and enjoy a few cocktails. After what seemed an interminable wait, we were escorted to our corner table overlooking the Plaza de Concorde. We were the first people to be seated for dinner. It was 7:42 pm.
Formerly a 17th century cabaret dance hall frequented by Degas and Toulouse-Lautrec, Les Ambassdeurs was the jewel of fine dining in Paris. Hemingway wrote glowingly of the restaurant in both The Sun Also Rises and The Snows Of Kilimajaro. It was the epitome of French refinement.
We perused the thirty-two page wine list and selected an excellent Sauvignon Blanc paired with the Osietra caviar and langoustine appetizers, then a fine Bordeaux for the main course. We immediately nailed the first basket of bread, along with the truffled salt butter.
Roy ordered the Volaile de Bresse, specialty of the house. Tam and Tom both enjoyed grilled sea bass with cream of langoustine 'essence'. Mary selected a choice filet of beef with flamiche. Everything was cooked to perfection. We were on our best behavior during most of the meal, but by dessert, the real Roy and Tom started to emerge and some pretentious patrons were raising their eyebrows and pursing their lips. Maybe it was requesting a third basket of bread during dessert? We decided to leave before we were asked to. It was almost 9:30 pm and most of the people were just starting to arrive for dinner.
We walked back to our rooms through the hotel lobby, covered in gilded wall sconces, gold fittings, and marbles staircases. One room, near the lobby elevator, featured a plaque marking the precise location where Marie Antoinette took singing lessons. The room was protected as a national treasure.
Upon reflection, I found the Hotel de Crillon to be uncomfortably pretentious. Let me restate that … I found most of Paris to be incredibly pretentious and self-important. That was sad, because it was actually a pretty cool place. Give Roy and me a month and we’d have this place straightened out!!
After dinner, the four of us sauntered through the park in front of the French Presidential Palace. We reflected on a wonderful trip, good work, good fun, and good friends.
Roy and Mary were continuing on to London in the morning for a few extra days of fun. We bid them adieu, and we would always remember the incredible great fun and memories we shared!!
Reluctantly, Tam and I headed back to our room and began packing for our trip back home.
Monday, July 20, 1998
Paris, France
Return Home
Tam awoke before our 7:00 am wake-up call and slowly finished packing. We carried our bags downstairs ourselves where the doorman greeted us with a shocked expression ‘how dare you do that!’ We had already paid a thousand dollars in tips on the trip so far, we needed the cash for the airport McDonalds. The porter immediately grabbed our bags, moved them three feet onto a cart, pushed the cart ten feet into a corner and then held out his hand.
We checked out of room #320 and settled the bill for 11,000 francs for the three day stay. Our limousine had not arrived yet, so Tam and I stepped out to take one last walk past Elysee Palace and the U.S. Embassy. It was another fabulous morning. The hotel doorman opened the door for us and held out his hand. When we returned, he opened the door again and held out his hand, again. The bellman loaded our bags into the car …. an effort that took thirty seconds of work, and he held out his hand, again. The doorman opened the car door for Tam and held out his hand, again. We left the Crillon at precisely 8:33 am with barely enough money to pay our departure tariff. McDonalds at the airport was out of the question.
We headed through mild rush hour traffic and eventually out the Lille Expressway to DeGualle Airport. On the way, we saw the new French National Stadium where a few days before, the French had won their world championship. Our driver pulled up to the Air France terminal where Delta had its departure gates. He opened the door and held out his hand.
We went through three security screenings before we were issued boarding passes. We were screened again prior to arriving at our gate, and one more time before boarding our plane. We were beginning to get paranoid.
While checking in at the Delta Crown Room, I noticed the name on the ticket of the person in front of us. It read Pestova. I looked up and was face to face with the world famous Sports Illustrated swimsuit model Daniela Pestova. I was keenly aware that Tam was standing behind me, however, so I tried not to stare. She looked good. better than anything at the Louvre, that’s for sure.
Tam muttered, “She’s got no hips.”
Parked at the gate next to ours was the thin, sleek, bullet-shaped form of an Air France Concorde jet. It was much smaller than our 767 and the windows were tiny, maybe only six inches wide. I promised Tam that someday we would fly one before they decommissioned them in the next few years.
Tam, Daniela, and I boarded Delta flight 119 at gate C85. We were wheels up at 11:12 am. From my window, looking south, I could see very clearly, the Eiffel Tower standing diminutively over the sprawling city. I kept watching as it disappeared behind us in an envelope of morning haze and fog. We crossed over Newfoundland, Canada and paralleled the New England coastline before landing at JFK. Visibility was tough, with high clouds and summer haze. We touched down at 12:48 pm, easily slipped through immigration, and picked up our bags for customs inspection. The customs guy at the counter was very talkative … asked where we were, what we were doing, what my kind of business was, and why I was carrying a Russian military hat. He asked why my razor blew up and what I replaced it with. He told me he loved Archway Cookies.
At the JFK Delta Crown Room, I caught up on business, making several phone calls to the office. Looking out the windows, Tam and I watched a Concorde slice its way back to Europe.
Our flight to Cincinnati left on time. It was a pleasant flight in great weather. Making the approach to Cincinnati, we flew directly over the ‘other’ Eiffel Tower at Kings Island amusement park. we landed at 4:44 pm. I immediately had a Pizza Hut cheese pizza while Tam had a steak sandwich with fries. Good old American cooking!! Our Delta flight to Grand Rapids was was a quick forty minutes. On our final approach, Tam could see huge storm clouds just west of us. We landed in the nick of time, the storm hitting us on the drive home. We pulled into the garage at 10:40 pm and walked into a dark house, everybody was sound asleep.
Postscript: Two weeks after we returned from our adventure, Hertz sent me a large packet in the mail. It contained more than a dozen 'right turn on red' traffic violations from all over Austria and Germany, and all caught on camera. It was a reminder of just how much fun we had on that trip!!
Dedication:
This travel blog is dedicated to Roy Jasper,
a beautiful friend with a heart of gold.