We attended Mass at the base chapel because Vince, a member of the small choir they have there, would be singing. Turns out the reason they particularly wanted him to sing on that day was because the archbishop was there for a confirmation ceremony. (Oh, boy.) But there was a brunch afterward, which we got to go to by virtue of being Vincent's guests, so that was nice.
At the brunch we met and talked with one of the other members of the choir, Joanne, who was raised a military brat, then went and married a military man. (So now she's raising her own military brats.) She also seems to have been immersed in the theatre for most of her life, doing drama clubs and community plays at every opportunity, so we had something in common and therefore something to talk about besides the weather. (Which was still cold and wet, btw.) In fact she was just then in a production of They're Playing Our Song (never heard of it) and she invited us to see the performance that afternoon. I was trying to think of a tactful way to tell her we weren't interested (Vince had promised to take us sightseeing downtown anyway) when my dear brother jumped to my rescue.
"You don't need to see that thing," he said bluntly.
"I wasn't inviting you," Joanne retorted.
"You don't need to see it," Vince persisted, and the subject was more or less dropped.
All three of us went back to the guest house and just flaked out for a while, then Vince took us by bus to the heart of downtown Bamberg where we could easily walk to all the shops and sights. Of course, being Sunday in a very Catholic town, most of the shops were closed anyway, but there was plenty to look at.
First we went to St. Michael's monastery. The monastery buildings, according to my guidebook, are now used as "an old people's home known as the Buergerspital". The accompanying church is still used for its original purpose. The one standing now (the original was done in by an earthquake) was built sometime in the early to mid 12th century, though of course it has been added to and remodeled through the years. But it still has quite a medieval feel to it. I was a little afraid to take pictures at all until Vince assured me that it was okay. We walked through the nave from back to front, our footfalls echoing rather loudly in the tomblike silence. There were a few other tourists there as well, but they made no more noise than we did. There is something about a beautiful old church like that which makes you speak in a hushed, reverent voice and try to walk as quietly as possible.
After exploring the nave thoroughly, we stepped off into the Chapel of the Holy Tomb. This room was done in Baroque-style, and compared to what we had seen so far it appeared quite light and airy. But that was due mostly to the fact that the interior was all white, buff, and pale blue. The tomb part was a very beautiful, tall sculpture that I found impossible to get a good shot of because the room wasn't large enough for me to back up as far as I needed to. I did my best, but the guide book has a better picture, of course.
As we came back out onto the front steps, Vince suggested that we step over to a little café in the front courtyard (called the Karmeliner Brauhaus) for some apfelstrudel und cappuccino. This sounded like an excellent idea to me and we did so. Though I feel it necessary to point out that Dad had a Pils instead of cappuccino. (Beer with strudel? Ick!) The strudel itself was lovely and warm, fresh from the oven, and served with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Much better than those so called toaster strudels that Pillsbury produces.
We followed up that pleasant experience with a stroll through the back courtyard of the church. St. Michael's is known rather more accurately as St. Michael's Mountain, and here we got a lovely view of Bamberg, which was essentially a sea of red roofs. We came down from that mountain and walked all over downtown, admiring and taking pictures of all the old buildings, and noting the shops that we might want to visit on Monday when we came back. In our wanderings, Vince noted a poster advertising a cello recital in St. Jakob's church the next evening at seven PM. We made a note of it with the intention of attending.
After a while we made our way back to the central bus station, better known as zentraler bus-bahnhof or ZOB. Vince returned with us to the guest house and watched the tail end of the X-Files movie (which I could have well done without) before retiring for the night.
Around mid-morning we took the bus back to the downtown ZOB. The weather was a teeny bit warmer and it had stopped drizzling. Our first stop was the Karstadt department store where I bought most of my gifts for family and friends. After that we visited the Minges Kaffee and bought a large amount of their edel kaffee, which served as presents for Mom and two friends. On the way to see the sights we also stopped at a couple little touristy shops to fill up our requirement of gifts for the folks back home. Shopping done we moved on and visited several churches. First was St. Martin's since it was right there in downtown in the Green Market of the Maxplatz (where we did most of the above-mentioned shopping). This church is much more recent than the others we saw, having been originally built in the late 17th century. Like the Baroque chapel attached to St. Michael's, this church appeared much lighter than the more medieval buildings we saw elsewhere.
From there we went on to scout out St. Jakob's, where we planned to attend the cello recital later on. Like St. Michael's, this church was originally built in the 12th century in the simple Romanesque style, but was later added onto. The overall effect, though, is still very modest and charming.
Now we moved on to the Imperial Cathedral, or Kaiserdom. I remember Matt had commented that it is impossible to get the whole cathedral facade in one frame, and I found this to be the case. The original church was built in the early 11th century, but two fires about a hundred years apart destroyed most of that structure. The building there now was built in the early 13th century, partially Gothic and partially in the original Romanesque. It is huge! We spent quite some time walking through the nave and quietly marveling at the beauty of it all. The rulers that the cathedral was built for were King Heinrich II and Queen Kunigunde, both canonised (though I haven't figured out what for) and both buried there.
Outside the cathedral are the Old Household (built in the 10th century and currently housing a museum of history), the New Residence (built mainly during the 17th century when the Prince-Bishop decided to upgrade his accommodations), and the Rosengarten (designed in 1705). We explored this latter, though there were no roses yet, it being early May and rather cold besides. But it was in a nice open area which afforded a close view of St. Michael's Mountain.
We headed back downtown now, with a view to getting some dinner before the recital at St. Jakob's. On the way we stopped at a little shop/bar that Vince had visited from time to time and had gotten my birthday present from. (It was a stuffed bear, specially designed and marketed by the owner, Gerd.) Almost as soon as we came in we were greeted by Gerd, who seemed to recognize Vince. Next followed an interesting conversation. Vincent's German is rather patchy and Gerd's English is even worse, plus the fact that he has a regional accent. But Vince was able to make out that it was Gerd's fiftieth birthday and he wanted to offer us drinks on the house. (That's how they do it there; if it's your birthday you buy all your friends drinks rather than the other way around.) It seemed rude to refuse, especially with the language barrier, so we each accepted a shot of schnapps. I'd never had anything like it, and as I was getting ready to take a sip Vince whispered, "You're supposed to knock it back in one gulp." Taking him at his word I did so. I remember thinking, Hmm, that wasn't so bad, then rocking slightly as it suddenly hit me. (I'm not really used to hard liquor to say the least.) But I think that first drink must have dulled my senses somewhat, because Gerd next offered us some of his homemade Frankian red wine (well how could we turn that down?), and I sucked down a one third-filled glass like it was water. It was good stuff, too. As we drank we attempted to talk to Gerd, or rather he talked and Vincent tried desperately to translate. He seemed to be a very sweet guy, if only he spoke more English or we spoke more German.
After leaving Gerd's shop Vince took us to the Café Esspress near the Bamberg Universitaet for dinner. I had tomato bisque and spinach quiche, which was delicious, and a cappuccino, of course. After the meal Vince ordered us all a round of jaegermeister shots. This is a liquor made from licorice, which you can tell as soon as you smell it. Having seen the way I guzzled Gerd's wine, Vince advised me to sip at this one a bit first. It was quite strong, but also very good, very sweet. Vince says it's pretty good with Coke; I have yet to try that.
After dinner we walked to St. Jakob's. Having just downed three drinks in the space of an hour, I was not surprisingly feeling a little unsteady, but we made it there without mishap. The recital turned out to be not quite what we were expecting. From the poster Vincent had translated that it was a recital of J.S. Bach and improvisation with a speaker. The speaker was apparently reading religious passages and reflections, with the cellist playing bits and pieces in between. Of course, the reflections were in German and we couldn't understand a word of it, so we were a bit perplexed. But the cello was nice and the acoustics were great. Vince and I eventually resorted to writing notes to each other to pass the time since we dared not even whisper in this echo-y church.
The recital lasted a little less than an hour according to my watch. As we departed, I managed to make a complete fool of myself. I had forgotten that the pews were the kind that you step up into, and when I made to step onto what I thought would be a level floor I stumbled rather resoundingly. How embarrassing! I swear I wasn't drunk!
We found our way back to St. Michael's Mountain and Vince observed that the buses had stopped running by now so we could either walk back to the base or take a cab. I asked how far it would be to walk. He pointed out over the vista around us to a striped smoke stack in the distance and said that was where the base was. I told him I would gladly pay for a cab back to the base rather than walk that far. So I did. Vince hung out with us in our room for a while watching TV (they don't get cable in the barracks), then he left and we turned in.
This day was warmer still with no rain, and Vince drove us to Altenburg, a fortress way up on the highest hill in Bamberg, which is why we drove there. We did walk the last leg of the journey, though, and it was rough going. (I am so out of shape it ain't funny.) The fortress dates back to the early 12th century and was used as a "refuge of last resort" by the Prince-Bishops. In other words, when the citizens got too rowdy, they took off for their country home as it were. (Kind of like Louis XVI and Versailles.) Currently the building is being used as a private home (we were allowed to walk around the grounds, but not go inside), and the residents apparently watch cable TV. There were a TV antennae and a satellite dish visible on the roof.
We walked all around with me taking pictures nearly every inch of the way. Being on the highest hill it provided an excellent view of Bamberg, and Schesslitz on the other side. There was a restaurant in part of the keep (run by the family who lives there perhaps?), but the prices were a bit high so we decided to wait until we went back downtown to get dinner. In the meantime we patronized a vending machine that offered not sodas, not crackers or candy, but ice cream bars! Wow, what a novel idea; I like it!
After completely exploring the places where we could actually go around the fortress we began looking at the surrounding area. We found a little footpath that Dad suggested we take. I noted aloud as we walked downhill that it was rather steep and when we came back up it would be a bit of a climb. Dad either didn't hear me or didn't care because we kept going. Eventually we came out of the trees to find ourselves on an open hillside with a beautiful vista before us. Vince happened to glance at his cell phone and noted that the reception up here was clear as a bell, so we decided to call Mom. Hee hee!
Made our way back to the fortress after a while, and Dad proved himself a true redneck by scratching his back on a corner of the outer structure. Then we trekked back down to the parking lot and drove back into town.
Walked around a little bit and had a late lunch at the Karmeliner Brauhaus. I had the cheese plate, which was served with a few slices of bread and tomato. There were several different kinds of cheese, of course, and Vince asked if he could sample one. I pushed the plate toward him (actually it was served on a cutting board) and he took a corner off of a triangle of pale yellow stuff with his knife, popping it into his mouth. In a few seconds he screwed up his face and announced, "That's the butter." I laughed and offered him another try, thanking him for letting me know.
The cheese was good, but European cheese is not a thing to be taken lightly. It is very heavy and I, not a big eater by any means, found myself filling up quickly. But not to worry, my hungry male relatives helped me finish it off.
After that Vince drove us to the Atrium, a big shopping mall, where I bought several consumable gifts, including a bottle of Jaegermeister, and bought a nice little tote bag with Bamberg on it to carry my purchases in. They don't even give you a shopping bag for free! And you have to rent the shopping carts (one DM per cart), so we made do without. Sheesh!
We were pretty well wiped after our excursion up to Altenburg, so we went back to the base after that. Vince again joined us in our room and watched TV with us for a while. Ah, nothing like the television to bring families together.
This day was a milestone for Dad and myself. Vincent, as some of you may be wondering, does have duties that he must perform on the base, though he asked for time off while we were there. But he couldn't get all of it off and on this day he returned to his work, leaving us to do as we pleased. It had turned nice and warm again, so Dad and I elected to go downtown via bus and just look around at the things we hadn't seen yet. So with Vincent's copy of Just Enough German in hand, we set off.
Our first stop was Maxplatz where I did a little more shopping, including buying some more coffee at Minges Kaffee. Upon walking in I immediately asked the lady behind the counter if she spoke English. "Yes, a little," she told us, and I was relieved. I didn't exactly relish the idea of trying to explain that I wanted 500 gm of ground coffee in sign language.
Shopping done Dad and I decided to look at some of the museums. I had in mind the Naturkunde Museum in the University district, the Diozesan Museum next to the Kaiserdom, and a gallery which we were never able to locate.
We almost didn't find the Naturkunde, either. We found a sign for it pointing in one direction, kept following signs, then came upon one that pointed us back in the direction we had come. Hmmm, okay, so we must have passed it. We went back the way we came till we found the last sign we had seen. Eventually found a metal plaque for it outside a large, antique looking door, not exactly the most obvious thing. This door actually took us into a courtyard on the University grounds which we crossed and went through another door to find the Naturkunde.
There was a poster at the door to the museum; it was in German of course, but Dad and I were looking for some indication of what the admission price was, if any. Since it was part of the University I guess we should have figured there would be some kind of fee, but we couldn't decipher what it might be so we just went in. There was a woman at a desk talking to a man. She glanced at us briefly then returned to her conversation. Knowing of no other course, Dad and I decided to start walking.
We hadn't gone too far before we heard a somewhat frantic, "Hallo!"
We came back and faced the woman at the desk. Before she could utter a word Dad asked, "Sprechen Zie Englisch?"
The woman shook her head, looking a little panicky. Then she held up two fingers and a thumb and said, "Trey marks!"
Oh, okay, we thought in relief, and Dad quickly gave her six DM. She gave us tickets and brochures and sent us wordlessly on our way.
The Naturkunde was rather interesting, with displays on volcanoes and our planet earth and space, and lots of things on animals, including some stuffed exhibits. It would have been rather more interesting, I think, if the displays had had an English translation. But it was something to do, so we just walked through looking at everything.
When we were done there we decided to have lunch at the Café Esspress, since we were familiar with the place and it was there in the University district anyway. When our waitress (one of the University students I suspect) came over, Dad immediately asked her if she spoke English and she did. Relieved, he asked her about something on the menu and she explained it to him. He complimented her on her English and she told him that her father is an American. Ah, handy.
After lunch we found our way to the Kaiserdom and went to the Diozesan Museum. In this place the admission price was more obvious, and Dad confidently plunked it down. But then the lady behind the counter began to tell us something in German and he quickly made it clear to her that we were English-speakers. The woman herself didn't speak English, but there was a young man with her and she turned to him and asked him to tell us whatever it was. He got this deer-in-the-headlights look, but he obediently told us where we were allowed to go in the museum. We thanked him and the woman and moved on.
One thing the young man neglected to tell us was whether photographs were permitted. I had my camera hanging around my neck in traditional tourist style, so you'd think it might have come up. And I was just about to take a picture of a statue representation of the Agony in the Garden when I happened to notice a little sign nearby that said "photografien nicht gestatet" (sp?). I didn't know, of course, but I strongly suspected that this meant "no photography". I thought about it for a while, even pored over the Just Enough German book trying to confirm it, and finally just took the picture anyway since no one was around to stop me. I figured if I was caught I could plead stupid American ignorance. To my credit, I only took three more pictures after that, with no one around, even though there were plenty of things I would have liked to photograph.
The displays again were all in German with no translation, but some of it was easy enough to figure out, mostly names and dates. There were old statues that had originally been in the Cathedral, religious paintings, lots of fancy altar pieces, and various carefully preserved vestments.
The most impressive pieces IMO were a couple paintings done in the style where there is an unseen source of illumination. I remember studying them in eighth grade art class and immediately recognized the style, but I can't for the life of me remember what it's called. Also impressive were several giant statues. One was of Jesus, and the others were of angels. In each case I found them to be a little too real-looking, even though they were quite obviously made of stone or wood. The sculptor was good; I found it hard to look directly at them and the angels actually scared me a little so that I quickly got out of their line of sight.
We were in the last room when Dad decided to rest and sat down in a chair by the door. I looked at all the vestments in that room then came to sit down next to him. After a couple minutes I noticed he was starting to nod and quickly nudged him lest he start snoring in this terribly echo-y room. He was ready to leave so we departed and headed back for the ZOB.
On the way we had to cross the Town Hall Bridge which is down the river from a mill where there is a bit of a waterfall. Vince and Matt had told us that kayakers like that spot and we saw a couple there. Both were guys, and one had long black hair trailing out from under his helmet. We stopped and watched them a while and I took a couple pictures. The long-haired one was kind of cute and I wanted to take a picture of him as he came out from under the bridge I was standing on, but he kept looking right up at me every time and I lost my nerve.
To top it off, after a while he banked his kayak and came up onto the bridge to watch his partner (that is, assuming they were together). He was standing there dripping not two feet from me, and I could now see that he was quite attractive. But did I talk to him? No way! Firstly I feared that he didn't speak English and I didn't want to make a complete and utter fool of myself, and second I am terribly shy. I have never been in the position of delivering a pick-up line, and I didn't feel like starting in a foreign country. I was kind of half hoping that he would start talking to me, but it was not to be. After a while watching the other kayaker I joined Dad (who had wandered off, the sly devil), and we made our way back to the ZOB.
Back at the base Vincent met us in our room and we ordered a pizza from a local place that delivers. That was my treat. We watched TV while we ate it, and Vincent noticed that there's quite a lot of Star Trek of all kinds to be found on the Armed Forces Network (AFN). "When we get cable in the barracks I'm gonna be watching me some serious Star Trek," he told us. My personal channel preference was BBC Prime, though I would have been happier with Animal Planet.
On this day the band was going on a trip while Vince stayed behind to work in the mailroom. This would be our last possible chance to talk to the guys in the band, so Dad and I met Vince at the band hall at 7:30 AM to chat and take pictures. I thought this meant I would take pictures of Vince with his band mates, but no, Vincent took pictures of them with me. Tom in particular enjoyed it and cut up quite a bit. Then we said goodbye to them and they went on their way.
Dad and I returned to our room and napped for a bit, watched a little TV, then met up with Vince and had lunch at the mess hall. After that we again took the bus downtown sans Vince to stumble around as best we could.
Dad had read in our little guide book about Geyerswoerth Palace, which was situated just off from the Upper Bridge near Town Hall. The current structure was built in the 1580's and was at that time owned by the Bishopric of Bamberg; it was used as a residence by the Prince-Bishops until it was made obsolete by the New Residence. Previously it had been the "dynastic fortress of the patrician Geyer family" from which it got its name. The book also said that you could get a key from the visitors' center down the street and go to the top of the watchtower for a magnificent view of the town.
We decided to try that. The lady behind the desk at the visitors' center not only spoke impeccable English (with a slight accent), but also spoke it as soon as she saw us, even though she'd just been speaking to a gentleman in German. I guess we were a little obvious in our touristy-ness.
Key in hand we went to the tower and began the climb. The lower part of it seems to have been added later and the stairs are made of stone and pretty well kept. As we got higher, though, the stairs were made of wood and were not a little rickety. Not to mention that there was a creature of some kind that was nesting under them. When we got to a certain point in our climb there was suddenly a terrific screeching as we disturbed it; not sure if it was a bat or a bird. It didn't do any more than fuss, so we kept climbing and it eventually calmed down.
We climbed 137 steps in all. (No, I didn't count them; I got that tidbit out of my book.) At the top we did indeed get a lovely view, and also a refreshing breeze. There were five or six windows at the topmost point, so of course I took pictures from every one. We headed back down after a while, and this time the animal under the stairs didn't see fit to warn us away from its nest.
On the other side of the visitors' center there was a picturesque, albeit touristy little courtyard. I say touristy because it had a restaurant with a large picture of the Statue of Liberty on its menu board. It also had a couple of fountains, one on either end; one had a statue of a naked man, the other a statue of a naked woman, and yes, they were facing each other. Dad and I sat on a bench near the man's fountain, and I observed sitting on its rim two Scandinavian-looking women with a little boy about two or three years old. I know it was a little boy because it was a warm day and he had decided it would be nice to take off all his clothes and play in the fountain. O-kaaaaay! At least he was still at the age where it could be viewed as cute.
While we sat there, Dad pored over our downtown map looking for our next spot to go. He read about Concordia Palace, built in the early 1700s for Counsellor Boettinger, which one could get a nice view of across the Regnitz if one went where the map directed. It also said that the Palace would house the International Artists' House Villa Concordia until 1999 when it would be closed for renovations in preparation for some kind of history exhibit. So we decided to go take a look. And wouldn't ya know it, when we got there, there were still renovating it, two years later.
We had just come off of Richard-Wagner-Strasse onto Nonnenbruecke (Nuns' Bridge), so we decided to continue that way since it stayed with the river and see where it took us. Along the way I observed pairs of ducks swimming in the Regnitz and wished we had something to feed them.
We went across another bridge near a mill and I eventually decided to look at the map and see where exactly we were headed. The road we were on turned into a footpath, so I was not surprised to see that we were walking right into Stadtpark Hain. We saw more ducks, a couple bunnies, and this pretty little white flower that seemed to be growing wild all along the path. I picked one so that I could take a good hard look at it, and figured out that it must be edelweiss, immortalized in song. It probably wasn't strictly legal for me to pick one, and with this thought in mind I discarded it along the path.
We walked for a half hour then turned back. When we got to the Town Hall Bridge we saw that the cute kayaker was at it again. We watched him for a while then headed on to the ZOB.
At the base we met Vince and went out to dinner at Calimero's, a Mexican restaurant. (Mexican food in Germany?) Our waitress (another University student I think) spoke very good English, though I'm not sure if she spoke any Spanish. I love Mexican food and these guys had great margaritas. I washed it down with a cappuccino, of course. After dinner we returned to the base and Vince and Dad watched TV while I packed for our trip to England.