Never Left Home

Görlitz is not usually at the top of “must see” lists in Germany. But Rick Steves covers it in his Germany guidebook (even though he completely ignores Leipzig) so we decided to check it out last week. What we found was a pretty little city of 56,000 with wonderful restaurants and warm, friendly people. Görlitz is the easternmost city in Germany and has a very distinct character. It was founded in 1070 by Slavic Sorbs. Even though it’s part of the German state of Saxony, it really aligns itself more with the region of Silesia, which covers portions of Poland and Czech Republic as well as Germany. I got the impression that folks here consider themselves Silesians first and then east Germans. “Ostalgia” for the DDR is evident although I doubt anyone would prefer returning to that time.

Görlitz was virtually untouched during Germany’s destruction in World War II, so its buildings have been preserved rather than reconstructed. When the war ended in 1945, the city was split between Germany and Poland with the Neisse River serving as the border, Görlitz on the German side and Zgorzelec on the Polish side. A pedestrian bridge links the two cities and people go back and forth to live or work on either side.

At dinner one night, our waitress asked where we were from and she was delighted when we told her that we lived in Wiesbaden. “Why, Wiesbaden is our sister city”, she noted. We hadn’t realized this, but after looking at the beautiful buildings and surrounding area it did remind us a lot of our current home town.

Christmas Eve service featuring the St. Thomas Boys Choir is a special experience. This is the second time we’ve spent Christmas in Leipzig to hear the choir, which has been in existence for over 800 years. The choir started in 1212 and J.S. Bach was the choir director here at the St. Thomas Church from 1723-1750. The rich tradition of hearing these young voices performing continues.

In the 21st century, the whole idea of a regimented boys choir seems anachronistic. But, somewhat like joining a prestigious military academy, the attraction of becoming a Thomaner, as choir members are called, is stronger than just being a regular kid in school.

There are currently 92 members of the choir. They range in age from 9 to 18 and are recruited from all over Germany. During the academic year, they live at a boarding school in Leipzig. Their days begin at 6am and include several hours of choir practice as well as individual training and regular coursework. The boys live in groups of 10 called Stuben. Each boy has a locker, a bed and a table. There are minimal furnishings and no TV or computers are allowed in the Stuben. Restrooms and showers are communal. Besides a gym, fitness room, rehearsal hall, library (with computers and internet access), infirmary and TV room, there is a dining hall where all boys have their three meals a day. The choir performs three times a week at the St. Thomas Church as well as touring around the world. Their school fees are mostly all paid by the state.

While their life may seem rigorous, the result is the opportunity to create beautiful music, to see the world and to always be known as a Thomaner. We chatted with a lady sitting next to us at the church who proudly told us that her deceased husband had been a Thomaner. We could tell that the choir essentially defines Leipzig and has been its anchor over the centuries. Two world wars and 45 years of communism could not erase the choir. There’s something about a tradition like this that helps us feel more secure in an increasingly insecure world.

St. Thomas Church

Crowd lining up

For about four weeks every year at this time, towns throughout Germany celebrate the Christmas season with Weihnachtsmarkts. Two years ago, Tanya and Jay went on a Christmas Market frenzy and tried to visit as many markets as we possibly could. We think we hit eleven or twelve of them. This year we’ll only hit six or so but they’re still fun and it’s interesting to experience the different character of each of them. For example, Stuttgart’s stalls specialize in elaborate roof decorations.

Wiesbaden’s market is more conservative and specializes in more high-end ornaments and gifts while its across-the-Rhein neighbor, Mainz, has a lot more food and drink stalls.

This year we visited the Kaiserslautern market with our friends and got a taste of a small-town market. The “K-Town” market features the minimum of actual Christmas gifts but instead has a heavy focus on gluhwein, beer, sausages, music and family activities. But wherever one goes in Germany in the weeks leading up to Christmas, a good time is to be had, socializing and soaking up the spirit of the season.

Towns that are at least 1,200 years old are not a big deal around Germany. One of these ancient gems, a true UNRAD (Under the Radar Destination), is Beilstein, a town along the Mosel River in Rheinland-Pfalz, founded before 800 AD. A truly beautiful place to enjoy on a crisp fall day.

Main street of Beilstein

Continuing restoration

One of Beilstein’s main attractions is Metternich Castle, built in 1129. In 1637, it passed to the House of Metternich, a German noble family. Unfortunately, their new prize was destroyed by the French in 1689 during the Nine Years War. Although in ruins, it’s still quite an experience to walk around the walls and imagine what life, and death, was like during this time in history.

One feature on the castle grounds is the “Weather Stone”, a very accurate weather forecasting mechanism. If you don’t read German, use Google Translate to get the humor.

The Weather Stone

Half-timbered buildings abound in Germany and after a while we become so accustomed to seeing them that they are no big deal. 

But in the middle ages, when many of these structures were built, they represented cutting edge building technology. Last week, I visited the town of Bad Camberg, located about 30 km from Wiesbaden to get a look at some terrific representative samples of this type of architecture.

We had never really thought about why these buildings were built this way in the first place so we did a little investigation to find out. It turns out that in 13th and 14th century Northern Europe not only was wood very expensive for the average person but the concept of lumber, at least as we know it, didn’t really exist. Saws, with any kind of accuracy, hadn’t yet been developed. So the exterior, and interior, frame of structures was made from logs which had been “half-cut” using axes and adzes (axe-like cutting tools). The spaces between the timbers were then filled in with cheaper material–mud, branches, clay and sometimes brick. The exterior was then plastered over. When the infilled material eventually deteriorated it could then simply be replaced, while the solid timbers remained in place. 

In the 15th and 16th centuries, builders decided to decorate and embellish the exteriors of buildings to highlight color differences between beams and infill and the style has remained popular today. In Bad Camberg, one of the largest medieval half-timbered structures exists in the central part of the town. 

Note the caricature design above this doorway. Is that guy on the left displaying the universal sign of displeasure to the lady with the crown? There must be a story there.

Bad Camberg is not only a pleasant place to visit for the buildings, it also is noteworthy as a base for several health spas, many specializing in what is known as the “Kneipp Cure” form of hydrotherapy. The story of the Bavarian priest, Sebastian Kneipp, is one that fits right in today’s health-oriented lifestyle.

Father Kneipp was born in 1821, contracted tuberculosis as a young man and then claimed that he had been cured by a “water cure” that he read about in a book he had found. From there he started investigating the positive impact of a healthy lifestyle, including eating lots of fruits and vegetables and exercising. As the father confessor in the village where he preached, not Bad Camberg by the way, he began offering treatments of hydrotherapy, herbs, exercise and diet to his parishioners. Kneipp attracted the attention of several notable folks of the day, including Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria and Pope Leo XIII.

A modernized statue of Father Kneipp in Bad Camberg’s Kurpark

Kneipp became so famous that alternative therapy spas started sprouting up in other European countries and in the US, Kneipp Societies were formed. These later changed their name to the Naturopathic Society of America.

Today, Bad Camberg capitalizes on Kneipp’s fame and teachings and the town is full of health resorts centered around its beautiful Kurpark. 

Zell is one of those picture-perfect wine towns nestled along the banks of the Mosel River in Germany’s Rheinland-Pfalz. Jay especially remembers Zell from his days at the University of Oregon where he was introduced to the city’s primary product, Zeller Schwarze Katz, or Zell’s Black Cat, by a guy in his freshman dorm. The name is given to virtually all of the wine produced here and one can’t go a block without seeing the ubiquitous black cat with his back arched, or more often, smiling and hoisting a glass of riesling in its hand (paw). One thing is for sure, the people of Zell are always up for a party and this past weekend, Oct 9-11, Zellers were out in force celebrating their Federweißenfest, or celebration of the season’s new wine, which at this point is really nothing more than pressed grape juice with a small alcoholic content. Nonetheless, it’s reason enough to have a party.

Because one cannot get away from seeing images of the black cat everywhere in Zell, we had to get the real story behind it. Turns out that in the fall of 1863, three wine merchants from Aachen were in Zell negotiating for wine to bring back home. The merchants were in the cellar of wine-maker Peter Mayntzer, and after several tastings, could not agree on which of three barrels of wine to buy. At some point, according to legend, Mayntzer’s black cat jumped onto one of the barrels, hissing and “defending” the barrel from any would-be aggressors. The merchants immediately took this as a sign, bought the barrel without tasting and brought it back to Aachen where they bottled and labeled it with a picture of a black cat with arching back. The wine proved to be so popular that the merchants returned the following year for more of the “black cat” wine and from that time on Zeller Schwarze Katz has been synonymous with the wine grown in this region. The name has now been trademarked by the town and is just as vigorously defended as was the barrel by its namesake.

Zell, like many other towns along the Mosel, has its local wine queen. Three years ago, we visited Zell with friends and met the then reigning wine queen, nineteen- year-old Queen Judith Hallenbach, at her family’s winery.

Judith, when she was Zell’s wine princess at age 16

Queen Judith, Zell’s former wine queen

We caught up with Judith again this weekend to learn more about her family’s operation and what’s in store for the wine queen who no longer wears the crown. Judith is now 22 and lives with her boyfriend in an apartment within the family’s house right along the main entry street to Zell. She attends university in nearby Trier, studies economics, and intends to continue working with her parents and brother in running the family business. She explained how the family has gradually increased their vineyard holdings and now has vines in several locations in the vicinity, including vines just below the famous Zeller Schwarze Katz sign along the hillside.The hills are so steep in the valley that it is impossible to use mechanical means to pick the grapes. Judith explained that they have a regular crew of about nine Polish seasonal workers who come every harvest-time to pick the grapes. For the picking season, the workers become like family. They stay in quarters behind the main family residence and are fed and cared for until the work is done. The leader of the crew has become a full-time employee and organizes the harvesting operation. For Queen Judith, she sees her future in Zell, working with her family and continuing the Hallenbach wine operation. Not a bad gig.