We checked out of Schiltach this morning, but once again our host who over the last few days did manage to become the perfect example of congeniality, managed to leave us with a bad taste. When settling up the bill, we were informed all sorts of extra costs that we hadn’t reckoned on, like tourist tax to cover the ‘Free’ tourist card, like the over-inflated cost of the water that we used to handwash our clothes in the basin. We were beginning to wonder if he would charge us for each square of toilet paper that we used. After all the extras, what started as a reasonable rate, became the same as we would have paid at a hotel with all the extras done for us. Reminder to ourselves, ask more questions up front and not assume that things that are stated as free may not be.
After doing the kiwi thing and grumbling about this all the way down the hill, we were met with a random act of kindness. A local gentleman helped us out with our parking problems and paid for us. For every action there is a reaction, every good has a little bad, every bad has a little good. After devouring a final slice of the famous Cherry Cake, we left town in a far better frame of mind, admiring the town for what it was, another fantastic little village on our European journey.
As we left town and headed south we admired the countryside with the HUGE chalet style houses and the HUGE multilevel barns. We were aiming for our stopover at Titisee, but we were distracted by a certain little place called the ‘Witches Hole’ or Hexenloch. This is a narrow little winding road that leads down, down, down, flanked by tall timber trees, following a little burbling brook, down into the very cold depths of the valley. And then back up the other side again. We didn’t see any witches, or anything else of particular note, but we could imagine what a cold uninviting place it must be in the middle of winter.
We managed to make it to Titisee in time for lunch and the first thing that struck us was the tour buses and the hordes of elderly tourists pouring off them. We are sure that of the thousands of people in that little town that day, that we were officially the youngest ones there. We had been told that tour buses only stop at three places on their way through Germany; Berlin, Schloss Neuschwanstein, and Heidelberg Castle. We would like to add Lake Titisee to that list, but being such a small place the impact is more pronounced. This little place is very small and crammed with tourist trinket shops that have the appeal of a mosquito dive bombing your ear at midnight. The lake front beach (which is about 150 meters long) is lined with little boats that you can hire out at exorbitant prices, or ferries that will take you on a 30 minute tour of the lake, before the next group shuffles on. Never the less, they seem to do a roaring trade.
If you take all the commercialism out of it, it is quite a picturesque spot, and after having a brief lunch we decided to go for a walk along the edge of the lake. Our first obstacle along this route was a large park with large trees along the waters edge, so that we couldn’t get near it. We were amused to find a notice at the entrance to this park that said; No swimining, No walking on the grass, No kicking of balls, No kites, No sunbathing, and Quiet Please! It appears that the only activity that is allowed here is to sit quietly of the park benches and the rustling of newspapers is barely allowed.
From the park onwards we found that the lake is fronted by private property and there is no sight or sound of the lake at all. The ‘Hiking Trail’ that we were on, was more what we would call a footpath, and the normal mode of dress was hiking boots, all weather gear, and of course Nordic walking sticks. After half and hour we thought that we should probably walk back, and on observing our position, we found that we had actually overshot the end of the lake. So we thought we would risk the ire of the locals and trespass through the collection of camping grounds and come back on the other side of the lake. To say camping grounds, this really meant, concentrated parking lots for camper homes. We didn’t get yelled at, but we did get a few dirty looks, but then that could have just been our shoes.
The shoes that we have been wearing for everyday use, aren’t exactly the most … stylish. And to say that they draw attention is an understatement. As we walk through the streets of many of the cities, people don’t just look at them, but they openly stare and you can see their lips curl up in disgust. I’ve been telling Justine that they are jealous that we can pull them off with such panache, but I haven’t got her quite convinced of that yet. In the mean time, it gives us hours of amusement, watching people watch our feet clump down their streets.
We arrived at our destination, Freiburg, at the end of the day, and checked in to our accommodation. This is the biggest city that we have stayed in for a while, and this shows in the graffiti around the streets. But then this could just be because we are staying on the cheaper side of town. It is obviously a university town and this is reflected in the number of art galleries that appear to be on every corner and on every street. We are staying close to the old centre of town that has heaps of very old and very cool old buildings. We walked through the old city gates and through to the Munster Cathedral. Built out of red sandstone, the Cathedral is going through an extensive refurb which is predicted to take ten years. According to the information the need for the refurb became apparent when one of the stones from the steeple fell down and smashed onto the pavement. After doing some investigation they discovered that some maintenance was required. Hardly surprising when you consider that this place was built in the middle ages.
We finished our last night in Germany having dinner in an Italian restaurant. We welcomed each other in German, we ordered in English, and we said good bye to each other in Italian … in Germany, somehow that seemed strange.
No comments:
Post a Comment