This is the latest I have ever tried to start a blog entry - 11:56 p.m.! We have just got back from along foray into the Black Forest, followed by sitting with the rest of the German and Swiss population watching the World Cup.
So what I will do is to give a sort of outline of the story, and the uncaptioned photos. Tomorrow will be another day, for filling in the blanks, although we also will want to get on the bikes this time and cycle to the Black Forest.
.... It's the next morning now ... so the photos have been captioned and I will start filling in the details in the text. We will have to leave, though, before this day's entry is complete.
Brazil vs Netherlands. People are gearing up for the big final, Germany and Argentina
Netherlands team - Robben, in the foreground, actually plays for Bayern Munich. He sure looks like Captain Picard, though. People here are calling him Schwalbe - the swallow - because he goes flying to the ground so much.
Here is our expensive ICE train. We paid 47 euros for both to go to Freiburg, when we had no time to refine our ticket choice. Getting back was only 26 euros, and that ticket could have taken us both ways.
We were too early for the official breakfast, so Rosa left us a bunch of stuff in the fridge. This will allow us to get going earlier than if we wait for it to be put out in the breakfast area. Because today is Sunday, the bakery is closed so it is not as if we are missing out on the morning's fresh bread. Rosa is so friendly and the kitchen/lounge area is so handy that this is much like being at home, or at least being at a home.
We walked over the bridge toward the German side. The water here is flowing so swiftly, it's scary. Also, we have not heard anything about it, but the river looks awfully high to us. It would not take much for it to overflow the bank here - and our bikes are downhill from that, in a basement. Uuurggh.
There was no staff at the train station, but several bystanders helped us buy a ticket to Freiburg at a ticket machine. This is not totally an easy thing, even though the machine can be switched to English. The reason is that there are different types of trains and classes of seats and tickets. Also, in this case, the track is under construction north of Basel in the southbound direction, and busses are being used to get people around the obstruction. So our return ticket, which we finally got through an actual live ticket agent in Freiburg, was complicated - involving two busses.
We got to Freiburg quite handily, and an hour before the time we had arranged to meet Didier andBrigitte. We were able to phone Didier and let him know we had arrived. When we spoke, Didier was clearly still in France, and the cell phones connected, though voive quality was poor. However, we later realized,once Didier's phone entered Germany it still was happy enough to makeand receive German calls. The only thing, we are not German - our phone thinks it is from Estonia! Didier arrived about an hour late, and during that time we could not find out where he was. Finally, he sent a text message saying he was at the Stadtmuseum, and well, yes, we did find each other.
Meanwhile, knowing that we were running low on cash, we took our whiz bang denominated in euros French HSBC debit card to a geldautomat (ATM). But HSBC had wisely decided we have taken out enough of our own money already, and rejected the transaction. The help number written on the back of the card is a toll free one that works only inside France (at least with our Estonian SIM!). Way to go, international banking and phone companies! We had dig deeper in our jeans for our last few (hundred) cash Euros. Tomorrow, HSBC France will get a blast, assuming we can get them on the phone.
This piece of meadow land has no "black" forest, but the shot does show the housing style a bit.
Our first destination was Furtwangen, the heart of the Black Forest clock industry, and the location of the German Clock Museum. Of course, our real first destination was to find something to eat. Didier and Brigitte understood that this had to include Black Forest cake, or Foret Noir, to them. We found a cafe, one of the few places that were open near the museum. They only had sandwich type things, but flammkuchen was also on offer. This is like pizza, but on a thin and crispier base. Frankly, I will take real pizza any time. They of course did also have Black Forest cake. Though "ok", it lacked any liqueur and was overall a bit fluffy. We will clearly have to research a few more!
When we looked on maps and set Furtwangen as a destination because of having the clock museum, the image was somehow of a quaint village, and a clock museum stuffed with cuckoo clocks. Reality was a large and rather plain town, and the museum was a concrete block beside a concrete high school.
Inside, the museum seemed more about clocks in general, rather than being a repository of varied and historical cuckoo clocks. Actually, as we got in to it, we learned that the Black Forest itself is about more than cuckoo clocks, and the museum does trace the history of the Black Forest clock industry, cuckoos or otherwise. It turns out that the Black Forest was really the centre of a general clock industry. It may have started with all wooden clocks (including the gears), but though that is fitting for in the middlew of a forest, wooden clocks were not necessarily invented here. For a time, Black Forest was known for low cost, mass produced clocks. On particular variety, with a white lacquer face, was their best seller and most famous product. Itinerant pedlars would take these clocks around to sell, sometimes travelling far off in the world.
For some reason, there was no system of apprenticeship/training here, so in fact Black Forest clocks were of variable quality.
The cuckoo clock was just one of many varied clock styles to be produced, and the cuckoo was not the only animated thing to be on a clock. One type had a butcher who one the hour bon!!!ked a cow on the head!
I am not sure exactly when or how the cuckoo clock took off as a product, and became synonymous with the region. It would be a good study for a Malcolm Gladwell "Tipping Point" type analysis. Later, but strangely not in this museum, we were to see some of the vast variety that has developed in the cuckoo clock area.
Clocks and watches, generally, have so many styles and varieties that they could no doubt fill a truck full of museums. This museum delved a bit into pocket watches, grandfather clocks, musical clocks, clocks that have elaborate artisitc designs, quartz clocks, and atomic clocks. Needless to say, these hapless cuckoo clock tourists soon had their heads spinning.
In the gift shop were books on various clock subjects, including a series, at just 5 euros each, on various clock subjects. We bought the cuckoo clock one, and escaped - toward Triberg, cuckoo clock heaven.
The clock museum was not just (not even mainly) about cuckoo clocks.
A Black Forest clock workshop. The museum did mainly tell of the evolution of Black Forest clocks, though it also covered some other clocks and timepieces from around the world.
Dodie and Didier enjoy the clock museum gift shop. Didier bought a candle that tells time as it burns down, but actually he prefers to use his handy (cell phone).
Back in Freiburg, we had a complicated train and bus route for getting home, but we stopped to join the throngs getting ready to watch the football.
As our bus passed towns on the way home, we tried to see the score on the various screens set up facing the street.
Once back in Rheinfelden we joined people at the pizza restaurant and watched Germany come up with the 1-0 win.
Wow, I bet those with limited time would wish me to always write the blog that succinctly! Sorry, when morning comes I will start expanding each bit, until finally it is as verbose as ever.
Back in Freiburg, people are gathering, many (most) are sporting some sort of flag decoration.
