Trondheim, Norway: 24 December 2012

24 December 2012

Today was a great day.
After a turbulent, stormy night in the Norwegian Sea we arrived in Trondheim on Christmas Eve. It was a frosty arrival. Icy, windy, sunless. Perfect Christmas climate. I loved it. I walked from ship to hotel while the others took a taxi.

Earlier in the week, we learned that Norway closes for business on Christmas day and the days just before and just after. Our hotel, the Britannia, may be the only hotel open for the three days of our stay. But restaurants are all closed. Entirely closed.

This afternoon we went to visited the Nidaros Cathedral for the four o'clock mass. We walked on snowy sidewalks in twilight to the church gates. Between the gates and the sanctuary door is the cemetery.  The dates are from many centuries ago. Tall elliptical gravestones. Candlelit. The oldest stones atilt. Tall, leafless trees overhead.  Resting in an undulating flat grassy field. Against a twilight sky, hazy blue,  illuminated by a half-moon.

We passed through the Romanesque doorway into the church. It is magnificent. A long expansive space with a tall rectangular tower near it's center. It is enormous. With gothic vaulting that thrills the eyes.  It is all so perfect in form and line.

The space was filled. The people looked joyous. Dressed well. Many children. People in traditional dress. A man with black shoes with silver buckles, white cable knit socks up to his knees where a red braided tassel was tied.  Black wool breeches from his knees up. A white collarless starched shirt under a colorful knit vest in red, buttoned up to his clavicle. Finally, a wool coat, white, snowy, fine, with two vertical rows of silver buttons and elegant, discrete ornamental stitching.

We took our places. The choir began. Boys and men singing. The organ played. It filled the room with quaking sound. The program followed the format of a traditional mass. Singing. Standing. Sitting. Sermon. Etc. Etc. Until the Hallelujah Chorus. The tremendous bells began to chime, heard throughout the town. The people rose and filed out into the Christmasy ambiance of Norway winter.

We had lowered our expectations for food. Then back at the hotel, the staff surprised us. They showed us to an elegant dining room built in the eighteen-nineties. Chandeliers. White roses. Candles. Red walls. Glossy black tall wooden doors. I felt I had fallen into a Christmas scene in a Bergman film. We were each presented with a plate of various foods. Salmon. Cheese. Potato salad. Cold poached turkey. And a bottle of Spanish wine from Catalunya. Afterwards, there was a triple-tier of cookies. All variations on butter cookies. And delicious coffee. The hotel presented all this to us as a gift. It was all very wonderful. The stuff of sweet dreams. Which I will now lay down to.

Marlow and Wes
The Brittania Hotel
Trondheim, Norway
24 December 2012
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Norwegian Sea: 16 December 2012

I am sitting in a room full of easy chairs and small tables all bolted or chained to the floor. On my right is a wall with five windows. On my left, another wall with five windows. In front of me are ten windows. One floor up is the same set-up done slightly smaller. Outside the windows is the Norwegian Sea and islands and fjords. We are on the MS Lofoten, the smallest and oldest ship in the Hurtigruten fleet.

We boarded the ship near midnight in Bergen. Our room is in the top class, in the category of the largest rooms. However, by hotel standards--by any standards--it is a tiny space. Two narrow bunks fold down from the wall, one atop the other. Our tiny bathroom has a smaller-than-a-phone-booth shower, a toilet and a heated floor. (I love the heated floor.) We have a port hole window, but it is sealed with an iron cap for the winter season, lest a storm push the sea through the glass and soak the room.  We are in the lower half of the ship--about ten feet above the water line--but it is only a short one-minute walk upstairs to all of the lounges and decks.

Compared to today's enormous cruise ships, the Lofoten, is like a bathtub toy. Quaint. Old-fashioned. The interior is done in gleaming wood and shiny brass. The lounges are living rooms.  Large enough if you want to be alone. Small enough if you want to chat with fellow travelers. Fellow adventurers. The winter voyages have few passengers on-board. Each has a compelling reason for making the journey into darkness and cold.  Here, the sun rises at ten a.m. and it set's near two p.m. Our sleeping and waking is not governed by the sun's rise and fall. As we go far north into the Arctic Circle the days will get shorter.

The daily temperature is in the twenties.  I am exhilarated by the cold. I saw an exhibit about walruses. Their skin is thick and dense like several straw mats combined. My clothing is similarly insulating. Patagonia Capilene long-johns. Fleece-lined jeans. Waterproof ski pants. Up top, a long sleeve shirt. Fleece vest.  Down sweater. And a heavy hooded parka. I can stand comfortably on deck--in the howling wind, in the frigid air, watching moonlight shine on the sea and stars shine in the sky--for a long time, comfortably.

We made this trip, in part, to experience the Lofoten, the Grande Dame of it's fleet and the last of it's type.  Forty-eight years old. With it's original diesel engine. With only one-hundred and fifty-three "bunks" it is fairly small. More than several Lofotens would fit into the space of a Princess Cruise ship.  For one-hundred and ten years this shipping company has had a goevernment contract to connect the coastal Norwegian cities. It delivers passengers, cargo and mail to the thirty-four ports on it's route. It stops at half of the ports on it's way north to the Arctic Circle. And stops at the other ports on it's way down south to Bergen. It's round trip takes eleven days.

It begins it's journey in Bergen, which is Norway's second largest city. Population about four-hundred thousand. It's last stop is Kirkenes in the Arctic Circle, a stones throw from Russia. We will exit the ship in Tromsø, two days short of Kirkenes.

Here is what runs through my head as I stand on deck, my fingers ashiver as they type, on the blackberry, these words.........

We are traveling north, weaving in and out of hundreds of islands and fjords. The Norwegian coast is entirely spectacular and breath-taking.  The light is crystalline. The color palette is blue, gray, slate, silver, mercury. This time of year the sun is indirect. Over the horizon. It will not come back into view until late-January. It rises at ten a.m. And it sets at two-thirty p.m. On the one hand, our magnificent scenery passes, barely seen, in moonlight and in darkness. On the other hand, our time, our pace, is out of our control. The ship travels at it's pace, not ours. We are left to sit, to think, to read. To stand on deck. Outside. In the dark. In the wind. Twenty-degrees Fahrenheit. Where the mind goes into sensory mode. Collar raised. Scarf tightened. Hat pulled low. The face chilled. The cheeks tingle. The air clear and clean. The light brilliant, crystalline.  Everything vivid. The stars seem brighter. The mountains more etched. The ocean dark, roiling and alive with power and peril. The brain tries to conjure words for the all-encompassing physical sensory experience of it, but words won't come, it is all sensation and one must simply give in to being awash in the cold and the wind and the moonlight glinting on the sea.

Marlow and Wes
16 December 2012
The Norwegian Sea

Christmas Eve

Our boat arrived in Trondheim, Norway's third largest city, this morning (Dec. 24).  We had been informed by various people that Norway "shuts down" for the Christmas Holiday, but I don't think it really sunk in until we got off the boat at 10 AM on 12/24 to a virtually deserted city.  This is not a culture of "last minute shoppers" - very few stores were even open.  The Norwegians begin their Christmas holiday celebrations in November when the special Christmas restaurant menus and concerts begin.  So I guess by the time they get to the actual date they are either well prepared or just too tired out!

Marlow decorating the lounge

Our Christmas celebration on board the MS Lofoton took place on the afternoon and evening of Dec. 23.  The ship held a holiday party where many of the passengers took part in decorating one of the lounges.

Crew of MS Lofoten

Afterwards we participated in the "Captain's Dinner" on board ship which was actually the only dinner we ate in the ship's dining room.  All our previous dinner were either at restaurants when docked at a port or assembled from grocery stores visited during the day.



Once we arrived in Trondheim we walked about the historic center where our hotel is located.

And attended a Christmas Eve service at the Nidaros Cathedral a few blocks from our hotel - together with 500+ others.

The highlight of the day came at dinner time.  Earlier in the trip we had assumed that the hotel restaurant would be open for dinner on Christmas Eve.  But several days before arriving in Trondheim we learned this was not the case.  In fact many hotels in the City are closed entirely for the week.  So the fact that our hotel was even taking guests was unusual for the City.  But having an open restaurant (or bar) was out of the question.  I even asked the Trondheim tourist agency to give me a list of open restaurants for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day but they came up with none.  I also expressed my surprise to the hotel management in an e-mail sent a few days before we arrived and they responded that they would try to come up with something.

Christmas Eve dinner

So when we checked in today they asked if we would like to have a "cold plate" for dinner that they would serve at a table in the dining room.  We were happily surprised!  We were served in a beautiful room in this historic hotel (located adjacent to the royal palace).  So instead of going without dinner which we had come to anticipate would be our fate for the evening, we ended up having a very nice meal of smoked salmon, potato and other salads.

Our plan for Christmas Day is to spend the afternoon at the hotel's spa which is supposed to consist of several saunas of various temperatures, a domed soaking pool that reminds me of the Ritz in Paris and other water features to pamper us.

Marlow and I send our very best wishes to all for a wonderful holiday!

Route of our trip

It wasn't until I looked at the route of our voyage on a map of Western Europe that I realized hope much "ground" we have covered on this trip. The blue line along the Norwegian coast in the map below represents the area we have traveled. Starting at the bottom marker for Bergen and going all the way to Tromso at the top marker. The middle marker shows Trondheim where we will be leaving the boat tomorrow.

Noon

This photo was taken at noon today. The light is so unique up above the arctic circle.

Our room

We are lucky to be in one of the four rooms on the ship that have windows. And we have two! This is the same room that Sam and Kathy stayed in during our trip north. It is larger than the room we had before.

Life on board

Saturday - Back on Board

It's Saturday in the Arctic and we are back aboard the MS Lofoten but now heading south. The Norwegian coastal steamers complete the trip north from Bergen and back over 13 days. We left the boat in Tromso on day five and are back on board on day nine. While we were on land for three nights the boat continued north to the very top of Norway and changed course to head back south. The boat arrived back in Tromso last night about midnight and we boarded shortly after.

Tromso at dawn

Although the sun never rises at this time of year, daylight begins around 9AM with a gentle pink/orange hue. It gradually becomes lighter and by 11am the sky is fully illuminated by indirect sunlight lower on the globe. By 2PM the light starts retreating and by 3PM it is again completely dark.

Dogsledding (video)

This is a short video from the sled.  

Thursday dogsledding

We traveled about 45 minutes outside of Tromso to spend a few hours dogsledding with a team of six very strong and fast huskies.  Marlow and I took turns with one of us sitting down in the sled and the other standing on the back of the sled with one foot on the "break" and the other on the sled.  The dogs did all of the work.  The dogs wore boots to protect their paws because the snow was fairly icy.  Several of the dogs in the team of dogs have actually been on expeditions to the North Pole!

Holiday Greetings from Tromso

Above the arctic circle

We're now in Tromso, capital of the Arctic. It is daylight starting at 10 and setting at 2. These are photos from our trip today.

Bergen, Norway; 14 Dec 2012

Photos from the ship

More from the ship

Hiking companions

We met a group of hikers on our walk today ...

Aboard the MS Lofoten

We are spending four days aboard this working ship as it heads north on the Norwegian Sea towards tromso.

Overlooking Bergen

A funicular took us to the top of a hill overlooking Bergen.

We've Arrived in Bergen, Norway!

Marlow and I arrived in Bergen on Wednesday, Dec. 12 around one in the afternoon.  And to our surprise (and great delight) there was not only daylight but blue sky above us!  For some reason we were not expecting to have much daylight during this two week visit to the Norwegian coast.  The sun set about 4PM so it is not a long period of daylight, but as you can see, we are in for a treat!  We hear that as we approach the Arctic Circle the daylight period will shorten.  And we will be in Tromso for the shortest day of the year!  But I think we will have daylight sufficient to take photos as we head north.  We were also greeted in Bergen by Kathy and Sam Adams.  They are experienced Arctic travellers so we are fortunate to be traveling with them on this trip! 

27-28 October 2012, Leipzig, Part Two

27-28 October 2012

Leipzig

The "Motete" at Thomas Kirche was not a concert. It was eighty per cent music, but it was a Lutheran service. And the Thomas Kirche choir was outstanding as one would expect of a group that just turned seven-hundred years old. Their pitch was exact. Their articulation of all those German consonants was clear as a bell. And their sound, in that famous church of Bach's, made me think of a pipe organ, a human pipe organ with lungs instead of bellows.  We loved it. Our fellow congregants must have liked it, too. But they are Lutherans and applause was strictly forbidden--it explicitly said so in the program.  They did not smile and they did not make eye contact. In my view, what Martin Luther advocated is austere and unexpressive unless you are expressing disapproval. His ideas were illegal in Leipzig up until the year fifteen-thirty. After that he became powerful and his practices spread like wild fire.

We arrived into Leipzig's huge train station--twenty-six platforms.  It may be huge, but it is very well laid out and easy to maneuver.  From there we walked four blocks to our hotel. The climate was freezing, literally. But walking was still very nice. Leipzig was once a small walled city, like Lucca in Italy, and Dubrovnik in Croatia. In our modern jet-set era it has a fin-de-siecle, an old world charm which is rare and a pleasure to stroll through even when you are pulling roll-aboards from the train station.

And what a reward was in store for us when we reached the hotel. The Steigenberger Grand Hotel is a state-of-the-art luxury inn. One year old. A baby. Hardly been slept in. It looks and feels like "the" place to be and in Leipzig, it is. We especially loved the spa. We dragged our world-weary, achy, travel-abused limbs down there and--after sauna and steam and foot soaks and warm-scented tropical showers and bathrobes and chaises and softly wafting spa music--floated out hours later relaxed and renewed.

In addition to the Thomas Kirche we dwelt a bit in the world of the Nicolai Kirche. It, too, is Lutheran. It, too, featured Bach and his new cantatas every other week.  But since nineteen-eighty-nine it has a distinct honor related to the fall of the communist government in East Germany.

The church began a weekly, what they called, "prayer for peace" during which they prayed for fairness, democracy and peace. Their communist government tried to stop them by force and violence then by infiltration. Once the police were in the church and heard the "prayers" they softened and it changed the relationship between the oppressors and the oppressed. It is considered that the movement to bring down the Berlin Wall and communist rule and to re-unite East and West Germany got it's start with the Nicolai Kirche's "prayer for peace."

Leipzig in the Snow

Today is a special day. It is snowing. Scarves, gloves, hats. People carrying pine boughs. Is it Christmas behavior? Or is it seasonal behavior? Weather gets cold, let's get pine boughs, drink mulled wine, eat more stew. I love it. We walked in the light snow to visit the residence of the composer, Felix Mendelssohn who lived in Leipzig for the second half of his life. He died fairly young at thirty-nine years old. Just outside the old city, a block past the old moat, we arrived at an old wooden door. Turned the knob, entered and ascended an old, decorated, dark wooden stairway that looked unchanged from when Mendelssohn last walked it.   

Worn, uneven and creaky, we walked the stairs up to the second floor and into his apartment. There were about ten rooms open for us to see. The largest was a salon with a piano for performances. Otherwise, the rooms were small with room for a  bed and a desk and not much else. We saw his watercolors paintings. And his composing desk. And we stood in his bedroom where he died.  Mendelssohn was a prodigy and, like Mozart, as a child and a young man he was reading latin and greek, composing, conducting, dazzling audiences with his piano virtuosity and traveling and painting with watercolors images of his favorite places.  During his final dozen years he started a music conservatory (it still exists) and became conductor of the Gewandhaus Orchestra. There he promoted works by his composer colleagues and honored dead unplayed composers like Bach and Schubert. He revived their unperformed works. The evidence indicates he was a good man, a kind man who sought to always be helpful. Those thoughts were fresh in our minds when we went to hear his symphony in a concert that evening at the Nicolai Kirche.

The Nicolai Kirche is about nine-hundred years old. Add to that it's "prayer for peace" history, it's Bach connection, it's Martin Luther history. And factor in it's flattering acoustic, it's pastel green and pink interior, it's tall fluted columns that burst into palm fronds when they reach the ceiling.  Then there is the magnificent, powerful, pew-rattling organ from the year eighteen-fifty.  It is a special place. We sat in the front row of the first pew, practically in the violin section. And it was a good concert. 

The orchestra was, as usual in Germany, very good.  They began with  Mendelssohn's Symphony Number Five. It is known as, The Reformation Symphony. Mendelssohn's family was jewish, but they knew how to be Lutheran-friendly in order to avoid discrimination. To honor the three-hundredth anniversary of Martin Luther's "Augsburg Confession" Mendelssohn (twenty years old) wrote a symphony using Martin Luther's hymn, "Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott", (A Mighty Fortress is Our God.) The next piece, an organ solo by Max Reger also used the hymn. The concert finale was the Symphony Number Three by Camille Saint-Saens. Wes and I were both hearing the Saint-Saens for the first time. We loved it. Our heads were full of history. Our ears saturated with music.  For a perfect ending we went in search of pastry.

We had very good food in Leipzig. It was different than Berlin and Dresden.  There were more stews and wild game.  And things that tasted like home-cooking.  At our first dinner we ate herb-crusted wild boar on a bed of wild mushrooms. And a goulash with roasted parsnips. We drank beer. The prominent one here is Ur-Krostitzer, in business since fifteen-thirty-four.

For our final Leipzig dinner we ate in the "Alte Nicolaischule" Restaurant. The building began life as the Nicolai Kirche boys school in the year fifteen-eleven. (Their most renowned student, opera composer, Richard Wagner, was asked to leave after two years.  Instead of doing his school work he would while away the hours writing plays in five-acts in the style of Shakespeare. A very creative slacker.)  Today, the building is no longer a school. The ground floor is a restaurant and to open the front door and walk in is to turn back the hands of time and enter "ye olde tavern."  Austere stone floors and walls. Plain wooden chairs and tables dim lit with candles.  Like a roadside inn for horse-drawn carriages.  Like walking into a centuries-old painting of a tavern. The menu was fresh game. As if the chef went, today, on a hunt and what he caught is what we will eat.  Catch of the day. We had pheasant and venison. Both were outstanding. Served with sides of brussel sprouts, diced bacon, spiced red cabbage and mashed potatoes.  Tall, too tall, steins of beer. An outstanding meal. The waiter came over. He said something in German. We shook our heads and made uncomprehending eyes. He steeled himself for English and said, with slow precision, "The. Meal. Vas. Appropriate?". Yes, we said, very appropriate, thank you, very delicious, too delicious, wonderful, danke.

Goodbye Leipzig. You have been wonderful.

27-28 October 2012
Leipzig 

A Closing Statement:

It has been an exceptional experience. Wesley the travel planner has done an indescribably outstanding job. Many times, I have felt, "I cannot believe I have the tremendous good fortune to be in these places having these experiences".  We traveled to four countries. They all felt comfortable even where language was a barrier. As you can tell by my wordiness, I have been an insufferable history geek, but I cannot be accused of not squeezing every ounce of culture out of each place we have been. If I have written too much, if I have oversaturated the readers, I apologize. These entries began as a way of sending updates quicker than postcards. Now, they seem like something that can be read years from now to get a sense of how the world was when we were there. And if I am too wordy, blame it on James Michener. Good bye, till the next trip.

Marlow
29 October 2012
Frankfurt, Germany
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Final day of travel

Last day of train travel from Leipzig to Frankfurt Flughaven (Airport).  We'll be home tomorrow (Tuesday 10/30)!  It's been a great great trip.  We traveled through three seasons: summer in Spain; fall in Italy and the start of winter in Switzerland and Germany.  Anxious to be home and share more of the adventure with all of you!

26 October 2012, Leipzig, Part One

26 October 2012

Leipzig

Here we sit. Late afternoon. Inside a warm church. On chairs of bare, uncushioned wood. Outside it is winter in October. Thirty degrees Fahrenheit. We are in a long row that runs the length of the church from the front door to the altar. That is how the seats are oriented, long rows on both sides that face the center aisle.  To see the altar you must turn your head ninety degrees. Otherwise you face, eye to eye, the people in the opposing rows across from you. (Is that a Lutheran thing?)

To our right, over the tall front doors and in a loft is the organ. To our left, reached by three steps, is the altar. Mostly free of decoration, it's side walls are hung with double rows of large oil portraits of unsmiling men in dark garments.  Beneath the stern faces are double rows of chairs on both sides. I imagine singers will occupy them.

Finally, between the chairs and inlaid in the floor, is a rectangular bronze plaque. It reads: Johann Sebastian Bach, 1685-1750. His remains are beneath the plaque. This is the Saint Thomas Kirche in Leipzig.

Dear Bach, our creative genius, who's music is a balm for what ails the humans of the world. It entertains, it soothes, it uplifts. Our dear Bach worked long hard hours in Leipzig. Over-worked. Under-paid. He auditioned teenage boys--hooligans, mischief makers--for the choir school then built them into a first-rate ensemble. His boy sopranos grew up fast. Voices changed. So auditions were constant. And he played the organ. And he conducted. And did administrative work for four churches. And it was his job to select music for the Sunday services. Select? Of course not. He wrote it all himself. Every Sunday for twenty-seven years he wrote new music for the Lutheran services.

It was a big job. Modest. Humble. Lots of bosses to please.  He was a city employee with a contract to adhere to. After twenty-seven years of loyal service he died and was buried in an oak casket in a nearby churchyard then forgotten for eighty years until Felix Mendelssohn came to live in Leipzig and began a revival of interest in Bach's music.

Meanwhile, back in the Saint Thomas Kirche, we have been sitting now for forty-five minutes waiting for the "Motette" to begin. We are unsure if it is a church service or a concert. There is a printed program and it does list several choral compositions. But it also tells us who will give the sermon and when to rise and sit. If it is a church service, I hope we can convincingly pass as Lutherans.

And now, it is show-time. The singers--twelve men and twenty two women--have entered the front door.

Marlow and Wes
26 October 2012
Saint Thomas Kirche
Bach's workplace
Leipzig
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

24-25 October 2012, Dresden

24-25 Oct 2012
Dresden

The name of our train from Berlin to Dresden is the "Johannes Brahms". It seemed a cozier, more intimate train than usual.  It was Czech. We sat in the dining car and ate seasonal Czech specialties.  The day was overcast and chilly when we arrived in Dresden. Our hotel is the Bellevue. (The famed conductor, Hans von Bulow, was born in it.) It is on the bank of the Elbe River. It faces the old city and the bridge to it. Our room has the same view as the Canaletto painting.

Dresden was a short stay occupied mostly by museums visits. Many of the great buildings of the old city were destroyed in the war. They remained piles of uncleared rubble, some for thirty or forty years. They now have all been rebuilt. The before and after photos are astounding.  And the art collections they house are impressive.

Dresden was the home of Augustus the Strong. He loved beautiful objects like buildings, jewels, paintings, sculptures, theaters. He bought and built like a fiend and much of it is on display in various museums. Most everything he acquired still has his initials. The frames of the paintings have his crest below and a crown on top.

One of the museums, the Grünes Gewölbe (Museum of Treasury Art) was his palace. He had a passion for over-the-top decorative objects.  How about a cherry stone with one-hundred and eighty-five faces carved into it. That is a bit of silliness. But there are, perhaps, eight rooms that were specially designed to hold his collections. Visited sequentially, each room out does the previous in lavish materials, decor and priceless objects. One room has wildly intricate carvings of amber fashioned into platters and cabinets. Another is ivory. Another has bowls and vessels carved from clear crystal. Another has complete sets of jewels. A matching ensemble--buttons, buckles, ear rings, necklaces, pins, a sword handle--of emeralds. Another of rubies. Another of sapphires.  Another of diamonds which include a double necklace with a dozen and a half huge, half-inch, teardrop-shaped diamonds. The Alte Meister Museum holds his painting collection. He bought good stuff. Breughel, Raphael, Vermeer and of course Canaletto. And the building has the best courtyard. Formal lawns, fountains and red earth paths.

Connected to the museum is the Alte Meister Restaurant. It is an elevated stone pavilion with large arches with windows. Comfortable and warm on a chilly night with candle light, soft jazz, good cocktails and great food. Our food begins with a warm tranche of goat cheese in a pool of fresh tomato ragout.  Next up, pumpkin soup with a quail filet on a skewer for Wesley. Coconut-cream, lemon-grass soup with prawns for me. After that, duck breast over roasted parsnips for Wes. And loin and belly of local Duroc pork for me. With the pork, I am drinking 2011 Riesling, (Rothenberg.  Nahe. Weingut Bürgermeister: B. Willi Schweinhardt. "Trocken, fein eingebundene Säure, Pfirsicharomen".)

In the moment.....while eating.....the first bite of the pork: perfect. Tender. Moist. Rich flavor. In a small pool of a rich pepper infused reduction. My wine, a white, is not at all minerally, it is intensely fruity, but not at all sweet.

(With apologies to Meredith. I know you are not here to slice and eat this delicious pork. To sip and swish this delicious wine. But you would really, really love it.)

The meal is over. It was wonderful. Everything prepared to perfection. The meats, tender, medium rare, juicy. A most comfortable place to land after a day of train travel and on a chilly winter October night.

During most of our stay the sky was overcast, but on our last morning the sky was clear and blue. We walked one last time across the bridge to wander in the sunlight. We walked through piles of colorful autumn leaves. We kicked them into the air. It was cold. Winter has come early. And we are excited now to get to Leipzig. To the train.


Marlow and Wes
24&25 October 2012
Dresden
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile