Of Karls, Konrads and Kristophes

As well as its 20th century notoriety, Nuremberg has a medieval history.  I knew nothing of this before visiting, but decided to devote the day to finding more about it.  Like so many European cities and towns, Nuremberg has an old town, one border of which is just over the road from my hotel.  The old town is more or less surrounded by a wall, which has towers dotted around it at irregular intervals.  This one is called Spittlertor.  I can almost see it from my window.



 

Here's some more wall photos.

 

 



 

 

If you think it doesn't look medieval enough, please read on; there's a reason why.

 

My first stop was the so-called Nuremberg Castle.

 

 

The original dates from the 12th century, when Nuremberg was one of the most significant capitals in the Holy Roman Empire.  Not THE capital, as there was no capital as such.  Emperors set up camp somewhere for a while and then moved on.  But Nuremberg was more important than most, and it was in 1356 that Emperor Karl IV enacted a Constitutional law that enshrined Nuremberg as a place where important stuff to the Empire had to be done.  This law was called the Golden Bull.  I'm not sure why, but I have to say if I could enact laws, that's certainly the title I would use.   

 

 

 

By the way, my title today is in honour of Emperor Karl.  There were also Konrads and Kristophes but I don't know so much about them.  When the Holy Roman Empire was dissolved in the early 19th century Nuremberg was incorporated into what later became Germany, and lost much of its significance.  You can do a tour of the castle, which I did, although I wasn't overly taken with it.  It's full of spears, suits of armour and that sort of violent stuff.  You sure do get a good view but.

 

 

 

Of course, castles are always built on the highest ground, and here's a view of part of the old town from one of the windows.  That's another tor on the right.  At first I couldn't understand why the castle seemed to be in such good condition, it being nearly 1000 years old 'n all.  Well, surprise surprise, it's all on account of WWII.  In January 1945, the RAF and the US Army Air Force deliberately targeted the old town, destroying much of the castle with it, and killing an estimated 6,000 Nurembergers.  Much of it has been rebuilt since then.  While they've tried to recreate the original style, it'll need a fair bit of weathering before it looks as old as it should.  You've got to give the Europeans credit for stoically rebuilding following destruction wrought by war.  Of course they've had plenty of practice over the years.  I still think Ypres in Belgium, almost entirely rebuilt after WWI is the best example I've seen.

 

The old town is in fact a mixture of the old and not so old. 

 

 

Lots of people live there, some in newish apartments and some in buildings made to look like they're older than they actually are.

 

 

This street (that starts with a w and has about 16 letters in its name) is actually listed in some tourist guides, but I wouldn't be going too far out of my way to see it.  But I don't want to give the impression that the old town is not worth seeing; far from it.  There are landmarks wherever you turn that are really quite charming.  This one's called Weisser Turm.  



 

It literally means White Tower, and apparently refers to the white mortar that is used to secure the bricks.  You'll just have to trust me on that one.  The other thing is that, bizarrely, there is a subway station right under it.  They've cut away some bricks to make an entrance to the stairs down to the station. Seems a bit disrespectful to me, but I guess that's progress for you. 

 

The other feature of the old town, and certainly the most popular at this time of year, is the Hauptmarkt, which at Christmas is known as the Christkindlmarkt.  I visited the other night, but saw it in the daytime today.

It was nearly as crowded today as it was on Friday night, and the locals were drinking gluhwein in the same gargantuan quantities, despite the time of day.  Maybe they're concerned that we're about to hit peak gluhwein, and this might be their last chance to drown in the stuff?  Still, I did brave the teeming multitudes and shuffle down a couple of the aisles, finding that there are delicacies other than gluhwein and fruitcake to be had.  Boiled lollies anyone?

 

 

 I don't think there's any unsavoury association with boiled lollies in Germany, and no doubt a good thing too.  In fact, the whole atmosphere was wholesome and family friendly.  I happened to be there on the hour, when there is a little ceremony that is depicted with the figures that you might be able to see just below the clock in the tower of the church.

 

Oh well, maybe not.  Again you'll just have to take my word for it.  It was kind of like a cuckoo clock on a massive scale.  But the whole population of the market, patrons and stallholders, stopped reverentially to pay homage to whatever it was that was happening.  Maybe it was a re-enactment of Emperor Karl IV signing off on the Golden Bull?

 

All in all, a most convivial day out.  A bit of a history lesson, a pleasant stroll and a sample of some local culture thrown in for good measure.  I feel I've seen what I set out to in Nuremberg, and if you're ever in this part of the world, I'd thoroughly recommend it!

When too much Nazi history is never enough

Nuremberg is of course known for its Nazi associations, and that was the focus of the day.  But first, a report on Friday night.  Food was very much the immediate need and I went over to the old town from the hotel for this purpose.  I'd also heard that the old town featured an acclaimed Christmas market at this time of year.  I can report that I found it, but not before half of Nuremberg had already done so.  They call it Christkindlmarkt, which sounds much more enticing.  You can choose from the finest Christmas decos:

 

 

 

Or maybe und kleine specialty fruit cake?

 

The atmosphere was actually quite festive, and not a bad place to spend an evening, as long as you don't mind being shoulder to shoulder with 20, 000 Germans all drinking that dreadful gluhwein out of miniature beer steins.

 





 

I myself opted for the beer stein containing what it was intended for, not warm, clove flavoured syrup that leaves a purple ring around your mouth.  Oh, and I ate too, although the beer was the highlight.

 

Saturday started out drizzling and got gradually worse.  My Michelin Man coat and beanie were essential all day.  Nevertheless, I wasn't to be deterred.  Today was Nazi history day.  Nuremberg is known for both pre and post WWII events.  Starting with the latter, as I did, the Justice Palace where the Nuremberg trials took place in 1946 is about a 15 minute walk from the hotel.  You can see the actual courtroom where Goehring, Speer, Hess and others faced the music (Martin Bormann would have too, but he was tried in his absence.)



 

 

It's still in actual use, although I can't imagine that unpaid parking fine cases are likely to rival the occasion for which it's remembered.  I was hoping to see the prison cells where they were held and where Goehring managed to end it all by taking a secretly-concealed cyanide pill the night before his scheduled hanging, but for some absurd reason that building has been demolished.  Nevertheless, there's an exhibition as well with the obligatory audio thingy in English, which is extremely well done.  You could easily spend several hours there without getting bored.  Well at least I could but I suppose it's an acquired taste.

 

From there I was off to the most famous pre-war historical site, the Nazi party rally grounds.  This was further afield and I needed the number 6 tram to get there, which I managed without great incident.  Pretty easy really, otherwise I certainly would have struggled.  Construction of the rally grounds started in 1933, and they were never finished.  Work was still under way in 1939, when other matters got in the way.  They were intended as an architectural symbol of everything the Nazi party stood for.  Although unfinished, you can see the grand scale that was envisaged.  This is from the inside.

Reminded me a bit of the Coliseum in Rome, but about 20 times bigger.  The outside is better preserved.

 

The city is also known for the so-called Nuremberg Laws, passed in 1935, that mandated systematic discrimination against and oppression of Germany's Jewish population.  Again, there is an exhibition at the site that attempts to document everything you'd ever want to know about the Nazi party and possibly then some.  Considering the design, the layout, the exhibits themselves and the educational value of it, I'd have to rate it as superb.  There is of course an English language audio guide that you get with admission.  By the way, admission to the rally grounds and Nuremberg trials exhibits is 5 euros, which is an out and out bargain.  By comparison, my recollection is that the trip to the top of The Shard in London is 40 pounds.  Not that we were tempted to actually do it, but I'm just sayin. 

 

I'm left with the impression that the post-war Germans have gone way out of their way to document Nazi history, lest it be forgotten.  They deserve enormous credit for doing so.  Is there a museum in Britain devoted to atrocities committed in the name of Empire?  How about: Greatest Gulags of Stalinist USSR; 1921 to 1954?  (Never having been there, I suppose there could be one, but I'm betting against it.)

 

Also close to my hotel is the DB Museum.  DB (Deutsche Bahn) is the company that runs the German rail network.  If you're into trains, I reckon this would be the highlight of your European holiday.  You could spend a whole day there.  That's you, not me.  I opted for about an hour, but hardly scratched the surface.



 

 

The oldest and newest life-sized exhibits.  And yes, there's a section devoted to trains in the Nazi era, which they named Reichsbahn.  Of course.  There's that theme again.  There's also a gallery on the challenges involved with creating a nation-wide rail network following the unification of West and East Germanys.  Must have been quite something, but from what I can tell they've pulled it off.  I reckon this part of the museum would have been really interesting, more so if I could read German.  But I was prepared to use my imagination.

 

I probably would have stayed longer at the train museum, but looking out the window at about 4.15 reminded me it was already dark, and accordingly a great thirst came over me that had to be satisfied.  As it is being right now.  This hotel isn't bad at all.  A fair bit above the normal Ibis standard I think.  Well located, and everything works fine.  I'd give a special commendation to the shower, which is remarkably easy and satisfactory to use, particularly compared to others I have known and not loved.

 

Although the city is best known for its Nazi associations, it does have a far older history, most of which is pretty close by.  That will be the focus of tomorrow.  I'm keeping fingers and toes crossed that the rain heads somewhere else, like maybe Australia?

 

Au revoir Geneve guten tag Nürnberg (mit umlaut)

Following the merciful end of the conference on Thursday afternoon, Friday promised to be the start of the start of the fun part of my European adventure. 

Following a brisk bus and tram trip to Gare Cornavin (the main Geneva train station) I found I had time for a modest breakfast.  Finding a suitable café seemed easy enough, and better still, a blackboard menu advertised a petit dejeuner for 7.90 francs, which seemed very reasonable.  I confidently approached the counter and indicated my choice, which seemed to be readily understood and accepted, although it was clear my hostess’s English was even worse than my French, if possible.  But all was looking good until I started indicating with hand gestures where I wished to sit.  A problem was immediately apparent.  It seemed that the etiquette was not to choose my own table but to wait at the counter until my coffee was ready, following which I would be shown where I was to sit.  OK, I guess, except that it was then made clear that my allocated seat was in fact outside, where the temperature had just reached zero and ice was just starting to melt from the tables and chairs.  I’m still not sure where I went wrong.  Did I mistakenly say that I wanted to smoke?  Did I look like I needed some fresh bracing air?  More likely the 7.90 franc breakfast is so cheap that the catch is that you eat it outside, where it’s plain for all to see that you’re a cheap bastard who’s too mean to pay for an inside table.  Worse still, I was the only patron subjected to this ignominious treatment.  The irony was that the breakfast (orange juice, proper coffee, croissant and baguette, including marmalade) was excellent.  The coffee was hot, in a generous cup and the food was fresh (and seasonal and simple). 

 

 

Regardless, a tip was out of the question, and nor was I going to return my tray inside.  It’s probably still there, being pecked at by pigeons.

From there, it was onward to platform 4 for the 8.14 to Biel/Bienne, which was my first of 3 changes of train en route to Nuremberg.  Lesson one (well possibly lesson two, after: don’t order the cheap breakfast) – don’t arrive 10 seconds late for a Swiss train.  If the departure time is 8.14, the automatic doors close at 8.13 and 50 seconds, and you’re on your way right on time.  Not a problem for me, although while I was waiting I did see an unfortunate would-be passenger vainly try to open the door of his train 5 seconds before departure.

I had splashed out on first class, as it’s hardly any more than second, and very pleasant it was too.  The waiter would bring you coffee in a real cup and saucer if you ask nicely.  My fellow travelers were blessedly civilized.  Most of the first leg of the trip skirted the edge of a lake (they’re hard to avoid in Switzerland, even if you wanted to).  There were possibly snow-capped mountains over the other side of the lake, or at least I think that’s what I glimpsed through the fog.  I’m sure it will lift for 5 minutes at about 2 this afternoon.

The connection at Biel/Bienne for the next stop (Basel) was 8 minutes, which would have worried me, except for the certainty that everything would be on time.  And it was of course.  I could have had a quick cuppa while waiting.  The scenery changes after Biel/Bienne.  As far as I could tell we left the shore of the lake and headed into some hilly terrain.  Small to medium villages are everywhere.  Europe is so densely populated.  No wide brown land here. 

Sorry about the crap train window photos.  I'll do better tomorrow.

Basel is on the border of Switzerland, France and Germany. Time to change languages from Francais to Deutsch.  The connection at Basel was a leisurely 13 minutes, but a little more challenging owing to a platform change from the information on the ticket I printed before leaving home.  That was just to keep me on my toes.  There was free wifi on board and, amazingly, it worked.  There’s teutonic efficiency for you.  Mainly farmland outside.  Not exactly wide and brown; more compact and green.  My neighbours were uniformly well dressed and seemingly well bred, well heeled and several other ‘wells’ as well.  I think I may have lowered the tone of the carriage but I was at least unobtrusive.

My third and final change was at Karlsruhe.  No, I’d never heard of it either, but it’s big enough to have 12 platforms at the station, which certainly beats Canberra. 

 

On this leg I had an enclosed compartment for 6 which I had to myself at first but was full following a stop at Mühlacker (also mit umlaut).  My new chums included two ankle biters but they were well enough behaved.  There were 9 stops, including Stuttgart, which I can now cross off my list of places to visit.  My only mistake of the day (since breakfast anyway) was to decide to delay lunch until the final leg, which started at 1.06 (on the dot, of course).  One problem only - no restaurant car on this train, and it was 3 hours and 12 minutes to Nuremberg.  Good thing I had the croissant and baguette at 7AM. One of the proudly proclaimed features was free bicycle storage in second class.  So if you ride a bike and aren’t worried about malnutrition, this is the train for you.

I have now arrived in Nuremberg and checked into my palatial Ibis, but further news will have to wait until the morrow, as I need to urgently go forth for some bratwurst and sauerkraut …

 

Fun & games in Geneva (I wish)

After a couple of days in Geneva it's clear that my visions of a carefree visit were pretty much pipedreams.  For starters the weather has turned from bad to worse.  No sign at all of the sun for several days now.  It may have gone to Australia for the summer.  More to the point, the conference has now started and is taking up most of my morning noon and nights.

A few observations about Geneva.  The city's pastime is definitely smoking.  I'm thinking of starting a Non-Smokers of Geneva United Club.  In an hour down town the other day I encountered about 7 possible members, so take up is likely to be quite slow.  Otherwise it's pretty civilised.  The public transport is great, and even I was able to master it within a day or so.  And it invariably runs on time (it IS Switzerland of course). 

Geneva calls itself the humanitarian capital of Europe.  I guess that's why Tony Abbott boasted (back when he was able to boast) that his foreign policy would be more Jakarta and less Geneva. I mean, you wouldn't want to align yourself with anything to do with humanity when you could adopt Indonesia as a role model.  Anyway, apart from being home to Red Cross, it's the European Headquarters of the UN.

 

The modestly named Palais des Nations.  Nearby are the Headquarters of the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights and High Commissioner for Refugees.  Also the International Labour Organisation.  No wonder Abbott didn't like it.  Still, the World Trade Organisation is also here, so it's not all bad. 

 

Back home where I come from we'd call this The Big Chair.

 

 

It's actually an exhibit erected in the 90s as part of the anti-landmines campaign (if you look closely you'll see why) and is now one of the most photographed attractions in town.  Outside the Red Cross conference is this graphic piece. 

 

 

 

It's to publicise Red Cross's campaign to stop violence against health care workers and facilities in armed conflict.

 

See the conversation starters I'm giving you, just from reading this blog?  No, no thanks necessary.

 

Tonight I'm going to a reception at the Australian Mission to the UN (if Abbott had had more time he would've closed it down), so I'd better be on my best behaviour.  The conference is likely to get more busy for me over coming days, including several threatened late nights, so I'll let know when I've been able to surface again.



The tyranny of distance

Well folks here I am in sunny Geneva.  And it is in fact sunny, albeit a modest 7 degrees.  To be strictly correct it WAS sunny until about 15 minutes ago, but is now (5.05PM) almost dark.  Never mind.  This was taken a couple of hours ago from my hotel room window.

 

 

It doesn't do it justice, although I think you can just see snow capped alps (oh, alright, big hills) in the distance.  Just try and ignore the nondescript buildings and part of the airport in the foreground,  With any luck, I'll do better with the camera in coming days.

 

My title, unsurprisingly, stems from the feeling I always get when I go to meetings in the northern hemisphere,  I've no doubt at all that these European types think nothing about the time and effort involved in getting here from the far reaches when they organise international meetings.  Particularly when they can finish a normal day, hop on a convenient flight from London, Berlin or wherever and be here in Geneva in a couple of hours max, ready to get underway bright and early tomorrow.

 

In my case, the trek took 30 hours from door to door.  On the subject of: there's always someone worse off than you, there was a Fijian colleague on the same flight into Geneva, and I don't even want to think about how long it took him.

 

Random observations along the way, in no particular order.  On departing our shores, I'd observe that our Border Force colleagues are taking their newly tailored livery as a signal to menace the hoi polloi far more effectively than their predecessors in customs and immigration, who never had the great fortune to strut around looking like extras in a movie about the life and times of Benito Mussolini.  You are now assailed at departure by signs warning that visits to any number of regions in Iraq and Syria without good reason are likely to expose you to criminal liability.  I didn't catch all the areas in question, although I think Al Raqqah in Syria might have been one.  I guess the message is, if you're in any doubt, just don't go anywhere that more than one Q in its name.

 

I've yet again confirmed that if you want to catch up on movies or TV shows that you missed when first released, don't try to do so on a plane, at least if you have any ambition at all of trying to follow what's going on.  The sound quality is invariably abysmal and the video not much better.  And that's not to mention the endless interruptions from the cabin crew on the PA, warning you to return to your seats immediately, on pain of ejection, when unexpected turbulence is encountered, or better still (and my personal favourite), breathlessly announcing that duty free shopping is about to close.  Last chance to get that bargain basement offer on French perfume or Russian vodka or 40 kilo block of Toblerone.

 

Anyway, enough of my misanthropic ravings ... so far, Geneva is great.  I say this not just because of the excellent weather, but more to the point, on account of a successful visit to a local purveyor of fine biers et vins, which are being enjoyed even as this is being composed.  (By the way, it's now close to 6, and pitch black outside.  The 5.50 to Heidelberg has just left from runway 73 north, and I suspect that there'll be many more movements at nearby Geneva International before the night is out.)  On the subject of fine biers et vins (not that I'm obsessed about it, mind), I solemnly promise I will try my best not to slip into my schoolboy French at every available opportunity, although I'm not sure how successful I'll be in carrying out my promise.

 

A number of pre-conference meetings in prospect tomorrow.  I won't be posting every day (surely that's not a sigh of relief I hear?), as the conference itself won't necessarily lend itself to daily reporting once it starts.  So I'll be back (perhaps more of a threat than a promise) some time soonish. Bye for now.  Oh, and I haven't run into any Dittmars yet, although I guess I should have tried to see if the bloke behind the counter in the grog shop answered to it.  Still, plenty of time yet.