We didn’t end up leaving town for Labor Day. I never got around to finding a place to go. Since the COVID-19 situation is ever changing, it didn’t seem smart to book too far in advance. And then, we had to deal with the chimney sweep on Friday. It’s German law that they come every year and do an inspection and we weren’t sure when they would arrive.
Our weekend was mostly spent in the backyard, listening to music, gardening, and drinking beer and wine. We didn’t even go out to eat, although Bill did get some take out from Five Guys because I had a craving. I downloaded some new software and will probably try to figure it out today. Last night, we took a walk around the neighborhood and I took a few photos.
Our next trip could be to Slovenia, where we will hopefully meet a new canine family member. Fingers are crossed. Slovenia is beautiful anyway. I wouldn’t mind going just because it’s so gorgeous.
Recently, I read and reviewed Mary Trump’s book, Too Much and Never Enough, a scathing expose about the Trump family, particularly her Uncle Donald Trump. I read in Mary’s book that the Trumps originated in Kallstadt, a wine producing hamlet located about an hour’s drive from where Bill and I currently live. Because we had nothing better to do today, and we’ve spent far too many weekends at home since the pandemic struck, Bill and I decided to drive to the village of Kallstadt to check it out.
We had the best intentions of actually getting out and walking around there once we arrived. Unfortunately, parking was in short supply today. We also brought Arran with us. I did get some photos, though, and we took a drive through nearby Bad Dürkheim, a nice looking spa town that’s a bit bigger than Trump’s grandparents’ stomping grounds. If we’d wanted to, we could have spent time trying and buying different wines produced in the area.
Kallstadt is currently in Rhineland-Palatinate (or Rheinland-Pfalz, if you prefer). When Trump’s grandparents, Friedrich and Elisabeth Trump, were living there, back in the 19th century, it was part of the Kingdom of Bavaria. Looking at a German map, it’s surprising to see just how far north Bavaria stretches. I guess I’m used to being down near Stuttgart, which is a couple of hours’ drive from the closest Bavarian border. Up here in Wiesbaden, we’re close to several other German states.
The weather didn’t turn out to be the best for walking around today. We’re about to reach Fall, which can be glorious in Germany, but can also be a bit “iffy” in terms of the weather. Anyway, I did get some photos, although that was pretty much all we got on today’s journey… I would definitely be up for another visit when the sun is out and maybe if we didn’t bring Arran. There are many Weinguts to try in the area, plus some tempting looking restaurants.
I truly meant to write more about this. I hoped we could walk around and see a lot more of the area. It just wasn’t the right day to explore Trump’s grandparents’ stomping grounds. We’ll have to go back and spend more time… and at least taste a few of the products of the region. I’d like to know Kallstadt for the products it can truly be proud of, rather than our current leader. Kallstadt is a really cute little town, though. I can see why people visit.
I run a Facebook group for wine lovers in the American communities of Germany. I started the group when we lived near Stuttgart, and have continued it since we moved up here to Wiesbaden. Stuttgart is “German wine country”, but the Rheingau, which is where Wiesbaden is, could be considered “German wine world”. I had no idea, when we moved up here a couple of years ago, how much more of a wine region the Rhein area is compared to Stuttgart, which now seems much more like beer country to me. If you like German wines, or just want to see if you like them, this area is “must visit” territory. I used to dislike German wines, but I eventually found quite a few that I enjoy. Every year we’ve lived here (since 2014, anyway), I have found even more that appeal to me.
One of Bill’s co-workers, Nora, happened to befriend a trivia loving American lady named Jennipher Schwarz, who married a German man named Klaus, whose family is in the wine business. Naturally, Jennipher and Klaus have a special “in” to German winemakers, but Jennipher is also a chef who has extensive experience captaining boats, too. She’s a fascinating person, and I’m delighted that Bill’s co-worker met her at trivia night! They are both tremendous assets to my little Facebook group, which has grown by leaps and bounds since I started it in 2016.
Jennipher and her husband have a business called Winestones, and they run wine tastings, winery tours, and facilitate wine sales. Last night, they hosted a “wine walk” at Lunkenheimer-Lager, one of several family owned wineries near Ingelsheim am Rhein, a picturesque wine producing town about 40 kilometers from where we live. For 24 euros per person, we got to try generous pours of several wines and have some vegetarian fare…
A few months ago, when the pandemic was in full swing, Jennipher hosted an online wine tasting via Zoom. Bill and I participated in that and had a great time, but this was the first time we’d made it to one of the special wine walk events Winestones hosts. We tried several different wines, walked around the vineyards, and socialized in person for the first time in many months. About everyone in attendance last night, save for the vintners, were Americans who are part of the U.S. military presence up here, but Jennipher has said she gets all kinds of people at her events. Here’s a link to Winestones’ Facebook page, for anyone who happens to read this and would like to get in touch.
The weather was awesome, and Bill and I took Arran with us… I got lots of great photos, too. Here are a few of them.
The wine walk was up a slight hill, which afforded many beautiful views of the valley. Anyone who visits a winery and does a walk should expect to walk up hills, since grapevines are planted on them for maximum sunshine. Jennipher and Klaus helpfully explained some of the methods used for gathering the local grapes for delicious German wines. She showed us some vines that were planted in April of this year, and told us about a couple of vines that date from the World War II era. The older vines don’t produce as many grapes and are harder to tend, but the grapes they do produce put out very interesting wines for the discriminating palate!
I probably could have sipped wine and taken pictures all night, but unfortunately, it was getting cooler and darker… and all of that wine has to go somewhere. I needed to ladies room in the worst way. Nora and I, feeling our collective oats, headed back down the hill to the facilities. The rest of the group followed, and we went back into the tasting room for a little dessert, more wine, and more talk about wine, as well as a few inappropriate subjects. I’m sure the people who were sitting near Bill and me probably think I’m totally nuts, and I am. But I’ve also been mostly locked down for months and haven’t had anyone to talk to. Even when we took our recent vacation, our most engaging conversation was with the “Shaman”, the artist in Italy who identifies with Geronimo… and maybe the other artist we met in Bolzano. I am somewhat introverted (much more than people realize), but I do need human contact sometimes.
I really regret not participating in one of Winestones’ earlier events this year. What can I say? 2020 has definitely been an unusual year for us and everyone else on the planet. Jennipher says she may do another event in the fall. I hope she will, because now I’ve done two with her and had a blast! And for one of them, I didn’t even have to get dressed or leave my home!
And now that we’ve been to Ingelsheim am Rhein, we will have to go back. We noticed several other inviting looking “Weinguts” in the area, but I would also love to get some more photos. It really is breathtaking scenery. I have missed beautiful countryside views, since we left Jettingen in 2018.
We may manage to get out for a bit today, too, so there could be another post in the very near future!
Regular readers of my main blog may notice that I’ve been kind of crabby lately. I was especially irritable yesterday, since I was trying to write the blog post I posted earlier today while listening to kids outside my window shrieking and trying to respond to a private message. I get really cranky when I’m trying to write and can’t concentrate on what I’m doing. I probably should have been on ADD meds when I was a kid because I am very easily distracted. On top of that, I had a tension headache, and Bill was bugging me about going to AAFES. We did need to go to AAFES (military run department store), even though I hate going there, especially now that everyone has to wear face masks.
Military facilities are even more anal retentive about COVID-19 protocol than other places are. Although the guards have stopped giving drivers the third degree every time they enter the gates, there’s still a very strict mask requirement, entry and exit protocol, and handwashing detail. And while it may be necessary for sparing people from getting sick, I also remember that not too long ago, it was not uncommon to find the restrooms at AAFES in pretty disgusting shape. I have pictures of ones I encountered in Stuttgart as well as vivid memories of the remnants of other people’s dumps lingering in the toilets at the food courts. So while enforcing the over-the-top COVID-19 requirements may be a very good idea right now, they seem rather disingenuous to me after a lifetime of patronizing the BX/PX (AAFES).
I finally gave up on the blog post after trying to upload a few photos. I came back to my post, only to find that over half of it was somehow wiped out. After uttering a few choice words at the computer screen, I went downstairs, where Bill was busily “beagle proofing” (although Arran is probably more of a pointer than a beagle). He asked me if I was hungry. I legitimately wasn’t, although I knew that we were about to hit the dreaded “pause” hour of 2:00pm. Bill proposed picking up a pizza from Pizza Hut, because I had mentioned getting a pizza somewhere (I meant at a real restaurant). I used to like Pizza Hut pizzas, but they have really gone downhill over the past ten years or so.
So anyway, we went to AAFES. I dutifully put on the fucking mask and washed my hands, rushing to pick up the few items I needed… expensive Lancome face cream for my middle aged face, ponytail holders for my growing grey hair, and a couple of new dog toys for Arran to replace the ones he’s destroyed. I love that Arran is ten and still loves his toys. I don’t love that he only recently quit using my favorite rug as a Hundetoilet. God help us when the new pooch moves in, sometime soon. Bill picked up some more shit bags for the dog walking, of which we could soon be legally compelled to do twice as much of at some point soon (though I doubt it will be enforced).
As we were waiting in the obnoxious checkout line that stretched down the lotion and skincare aisle, Bill asked me what I wanted to do about lunch. I had no desire to eat in the food court, so initially, I said we should go by Five Guys and get takeout. But then I remembered Little Italy, a great restaurant I’ve blogged about several times since our move to Wiesbaden. There is a Little Italy on post. That’s not the one I’m writing about now. I am referring to a small restaurant in the heart of Wiesbaden, where they serve lovely Italian dishes, nice wines, and luscious desserts. Before the pandemic, we used to go there fairly often. Yesterday was our first time back since February, I think.
Bill made a reservation on OpenTable.de, noting that Little Italy does not take an afternoon pause. We got there at about 2:15pm. The proprietor, a friendly bald guy who speaks English, looked slightly panicked when Bill announced our arrival. Bill then noticed that the entire dining room was set as if there was going to be a large party. But when Bill said we had a reservation, he told us to find a table outside. The weather was glorious, so that was a pleasure to do.
A lovely young woman came over to take our drink order and have us sign the paperwork for contract tracing. Bill got me a glass of white wine from Sicily. He got himself a white wine from Lugano. Then, we both ordered dishes from the specials, presented on a chalk board in front of us. Bill had saltimbocca made of dorade. I had a salmon filet with rucola pesto, mashed sweet potatoes, and ratatouille (pisto).
While we were waiting for our food, a large group of well-dressed people showed up. I soon gathered that this was why the proprietor had looked a little stressed when we arrived. There were bottles of bubbly chilling in ice buckets until umbrellas near us. I had mistakenly thought they had set up a little wine stand, but no, that was for the people partying at Little Italy. Hopefully, none of them were carriers of the COVID-19 virus, since they weren’t wearing masks.
A tiny little blonde girl of about three came over to play with the Champagne bottles pictured in the gallery above. She had huge blue eyes and was sincerely adorable. We smiled at her while she played with the bubbly bottles and the nearby decorative water fountain. A few minutes later, I heard her shrieking as her mom struggled to contain her. Finally, mom put her in the stroller and methodically strapped her down while she wailed. I figured it was probably nap time for her… having been cranky myself a little while ago, I could commiserate, too.
I soon forgot about being cranky as we enjoyed lunch. I mostly enjoyed the bright colors of my dish, even if I’m not the biggest ratatouille or sweet potato fan. I managed to finish most of it, with Bill’s help. Bill really loved the dorade, which was accented with sage and bacon. He said he would definitely order it again if he had the opportunity.
As we were eating, the little blonde girl came outside. I watched her pick her nose while her grandmother smoked a cigarette. It occurred to me that kids are just so unabashed and unashamed about anything. Maybe watching that tiny girl explore the world around her without a mask is why I found this morning’s New York Times article about training kids to wear masks so very depressing. The masks have the effect of making communication and exploration more difficult, especially for the youngest among us. But, with any luck, there will be an effective vaccine or treatment that will make this brave new pandemic world less ominous and irritating. I always wanted to have children, but I am grateful I’m not a parent dealing with this pandemic stuff right now. I think it would drive me crazy.
For dessert, I had limoncello sorbet with mangos and pears, while Bill had tiramisu. Neither of us really needed dessert, but the weather was just so nice, and I was enjoying being out and about, watching people celebrate in a normal way. I used to take doing stuff on the weekends for granted. Now, when we get to have lunch somewhere nice, it’s a real treat. Maybe that’s one of the silver linings to the COVID-19 situation. I’ve often said that every bad situation has its positives. I don’t take a nice meal at a good restaurant for granted as I might have in 2019…
The bill was about 89 euros. Bill gave our lovely waitress a 100 euro note and said “Stimmt”. We really had a nice time. I hope we can do it again sometime soon. Then we came home and I set to work trying to wash the stench out of Arran’s Klo on my blue carpet. It’s now outside drying… and I fear that my efforts may have been for naught. Oh well… at least we had a good meal, and hopefully, we’ll stay healthy.
The featured photo is a very faded picture of Mount Ararat, which I took from the third floor of the school where I taught, Ruben Sevak School #151.
On August 22, 1995, thirty people joined me at the Hotel Dvin in Yerevan, Armenia, where we all swore in as official Peace Corps Volunteers. We had spent twelve, hot, exhausting, often frustrating weeks being trained in our disciplines, the Armenian language (eastern dialect), and cross cultural issues. We also got a lot of shots and some basic first aid and CPR training.
Our group originally consisted of 32 people, but one female trainee was placed with a host family with a son. She ended up deciding to marry her “host brother” instead of swearing in. I remember being very surprised by that decision, since she had seemed to be one of the more driven trainees. She didn’t seem to like me very much at first, but then was curiously nicer to me once she heard me sing. That’s not the first time that’s happened to me. On the other hand, some people like me less after they hear me sing. It’s a double edged sword.
I remember August 22, 1995 well because it was such a good day. I felt very accomplished for having finished training, especially since I had never planned to be a Peace Corps Volunteer. I had mostly decided to serve because I was having trouble finding meaningful work and wanted to escape Gloucester, Virginia and my parents’ house. My older sister, Betsy, had been a Volunteer in Morocco back in the mid 1980s, but she was a lot more driven and accomplished than I was. She went to a much more prestigious college, was fluent in French, and even worked in the Moroccan Embassy in Washington, DC before she was a Volunteer. I was kind of average by comparison.
In December 1994, I was working three unfulfilling part-time jobs that paid peanuts. I couldn’t make enough money to break out on my own. I remember that Betsy had joined the Peace Corps and launched into a very fulfilling career. She’d earned a master’s degree at yet another prestigious university and traveled the world, having learned Arabic in Morocco. I longed for something more like that for myself, instead of selling lattes and menswear, temping at the College of William & Mary, and putting up with bosses with whom I didn’t mesh. One day that month, I decided to send away for an application.
When I got the application and saw how long it was, I started to lose hope. It required six references, and there were medical and legal sections that had to be completed, as well as lengthy questions to answer in longhand. I threw the first application away, because I was sure I would never get accepted.
A couple of weeks later, I realized that I had nothing to lose by applying. The worst that could happen is that I’d get rejected. Rejection is nothing new for me. I’ve been rejected by countless would-be employers, friends, and boyfriends. I even got rejected by three of the four colleges to which I applied. I was not a great student and didn’t have excellent SAT scores. But I did get accepted to Longwood College (now Longwood University). I ended up flourishing in college. That was where I discovered my musical ability, and that discovery changed my life forever. I thought that maybe the Peace Corps would be like college was. Maybe I would go there and life would change for me somehow. For better or worse, I had to take a shot at it.
So I was filling out the application on the evening of January 15, 1995. The phone rang. My dad answered it. It was someone in the family letting us know that his older sister, my Aunt Jeanne, had died of an inoperable brain tumor. I figured that might be a sign that I needed to mail the application. Two days later, as we drove from Gloucester, Virginia to Sylvania, Georgia for my Aunt Jeanne’s funeral, I dropped the application in the mail.
One week later, I was invited to an interview in Arlington, Virginia. One of my sisters happens to live in Arlington and her condo was within walking distance to the Rosslyn Metro station, which would easily get me to the office where the Peace Corps recruiter was. I put on an ugly red and black suit went in and spoke to a woman named Bethe (that was how she spelled her name). She’d been a Volunteer in Thailand. I noticed she wore pantyhose, but she hadn’t shaved her legs, so her hair was matted underneath the nylon. Anyway, we hit it off fine… and she said she would nominate me for an assignment Teaching English as a Foreign Language (TEFL) in “Central Europe”.
Well… Armenia is about as Eastern European as a person can get… or maybe it’s in extreme Western Asia. It seems to depend on whom you ask. But although Armenia is a tiny formerly Soviet republic, I had heard of it before I got the offer to go there. My fourth grade teacher, Bryan Almasian, was of Armenian descent. He told us about Armenia at a time when most people in my tiny hometown never would have heard of it. People of Armenian descent weren’t exactly all over southeastern Virginia in the early 1980s. So when I got the invitation to go to Armenia, I was excited.
I had decided to join the Peace Corps at an advantageous time. It was right after the fall of the Soviet Union. A bunch of eastern European countries opened up, as well as a number of former Soviet republics. Since I grew up during the Cold War, it was exciting to me to get to see part of the former Soviet Union. And although moving away for two years was kind of scary, being stuck in Gloucester was even scarier. A lot of talent has “washed up” there, as my former best friend would say. I hadn’t enjoyed growing up in Gloucester and ached to move somewhere else… although now that I’m a lot older, I see its appeal a lot more clearly. I still don’t want to live there again, but I can now see why a lot of people I went to school with are still living there today. Although I am not a Gloucester native, it’s probably the closest thing I have to a hometown. I moved there at age 8 and lived there off and on until I was 27. I still know a lot of people there.
Getting ready to go to Armenia was challenging. Unlike my sister, who had at least a year to prepare for her move abroad, I was invited to serve about six weeks after my interview with Bethe. That meant I had to complete legal, dental, and medical screenings very quickly. The legal screening wasn’t hard. I was only 22 years old, so I didn’t have any divorces or child support issues. I didn’t have children to worry about. All I had were student loans, which at that time, we were allowed to defer (I think the rules have since changed). I went down to the jailhouse in my town, having called first to tell them that I needed to have my fingerprints taken. I remember the folksy woman on the other end of the line telling me to arrive before 5:00pm, because that was when the “weekenders” showed up. I was so naive at the time I didn’t know what that meant. I had not heard of people who serve jail time on the weekends so they can work.
I had to go to the dentist, but that was no big deal. Unlike Betsy, I was born without wisdom teeth, so I didn’t need to have them extracted, like she did. I was also born without two of my permanent teeth and, at age 48, still have one baby tooth left. The other one was extracted a few years ago when it abscessed. Now I have an implant.
The medical screening was a lot harder. Because I was still under 23, I had access to medical care at the military bases near me. Actually, I think I could have gone there even if I hadn’t had access, since the Peace Corps is a federal agency. I grew up going on military installations for medical care, but I had never seen a gynecologist before. And my health screening for the Peace Corps was my first experience with that exam. It was given by a rather unkind Air Force major, who really traumatized me. To this day, I rarely see doctors, mainly because of the way she treated me. Fortunately, I was “healthy” down there, although she promised me I’d get really fat in Armenia (actually, I lost a lot of weight during training, but later put it back on). I’m just glad I didn’t have to pay for that treatment, especially since it still affects me now.
The rest of the medical part wasn’t that bad, except that they took many appointments to accomplish. Also, I got a nastygram from the Peace Corps medical office because they said I was “too fat”. However, I stayed mostly physically healthy during my time abroad. I wasn’t one of the ones who was medivacked. I did eventually have problems with really bad skin infections that required several heavy duty antibiotics to cure. I’m pretty sure I got the infections in Armenia, or perhaps Turkey (they started on a visit to Turkey). Other than that, I didn’t have health problems, despite being fat.
On May 31st, 1995, after lots of meetings and a night in a Washington, DC hotel, thirty-two of use got on a plane to Paris. We spent twelve hours there before we boarded a flight to Armenia on the now defunct Armenian Airlines. I will never forget that very “unique” flight. It was like a time warp to the 70s. Actually, since the flight to Paris was my first since 1978, it wasn’t that different from what I was used to. There was a lot of smoking on the plane, people standing up in the aisles, and flight attendants wearing uniforms that looked distinctly Soviet. They were passing out warm beer and paper cups of water that probably came from the lavatory. Forget about a movie or assigned seating!
This was also about the time that Christopher Reeve was in the news, having fallen off his horse while stadium jumping in Culpeper, Virginia. Ten years prior to Reeve’s accident, I was at the same showgrounds where he fell off, participating in my first horse judging competition. I fell off my horse many times. Fortunately, I never got seriously injured.
Once we arrived in Yerevan, at about 3:00am, we were confronted with what life would be like there. The airport was mostly dark, because there was little power. The toilets were disgusting, because there was little water. Two guys were unloading the luggage, so it took forever to get out of customs and into bed. Some of the members of the group that had arrived in 1994 were at the airport to welcome us. The airport in Yerevan is now much better than it was when we arrived in 1995. Back then, it was very Soviet looking and kind of crumbling.
Actually, a lot of things that were crumbling in 1995 are now looking a lot better. By the time I left Armenia in 1997, things were noticeably improving. For instance, in the summer of 1996, the government determined that Metzamor, the nuclear power plant, was safe to use. They reconnected to it and suddenly, we had power 24 hours a day. During my first year in Armenia, there was only power for a couple of hours per day. Having electricity all the time was a game changer and morale booster, and I was there to see it happen.
When we arrived in 1995, there weren’t many western style stores at all. Most everything was behind a counter and we had to ask to buy them. By the time I left, honest to God supermarkets were opening, although they still didn’t trust people to shop on their own. I remember being “minded” when I stopped by a grocery store in Yerevan. Someone would watch me to make sure I didn’t steal anything, even as they’d let me get it off the shelf for myself.
Perhaps the most awesome thing about my time in Armenia was that one of my students later went to work for Peace Corps Armenia. I knew him as a sixteen year old. He’s now a professional, helping people like I was when I was a Volunteer. It makes me very proud, even though I had little to do with his excellent command of English. He was already fluent when we met. However, I can take comfort in knowing that having me as a teacher didn’t completely turn him off of Americans!
It’s hard to believe that twenty-five years have passed since I became a Peace Corps Volunteer. I completely believe that I went to Armenia for a reason, and it led me to where I am today. I certainly had little trouble adjusting to Germany after having lived in Armenia for two years. My time there was often difficult and challenging, but I now mostly remember the best parts of it. I’m proud of myself for making it through, even if I wasn’t one of the people who had spent my life planning and preparing for a Peace Corps assignment. It truly was an honor to serve, and I learned so much. I hope others learned from me… or at least didn’t mind that I was there.
I meant to post this yesterday, but half of my post got wiped out, and I was so disgusted that I decided to wait to finish it this morning. I’m glad I waited. As usual, the end product turned out better after I slept on it.
I always do these “ten things I learned” posts to remind me that travel is a good teacher and to sum up why the trip was worth taking. This particular trip was very special because it was the first one Bill and I have done since the pandemic started. I was a bit nervous about taking the plunge, and to be honest, I am a little worried that maybe we might get sick. On the other hand, we had a great time and saw a lot of cool stuff. So, here goes with my top ten list of things we learned in Sud Tyrol and beyond.
10. People in Sud Tyrol are much more likely to speak German than Italian, even though Sud Tyrol is in Italy.
It’s true. Everywhere we went in Parcines– as well as in Merano and Bolzano and the little towns around them– people were speaking German first. I knew that it was a German speaking area because I had visited Bolzano before, but I didn’t realize that German really is what you’re likely to hear among the locals.
9. Agriculture is huge in Sud Tyrol.
Everywhere we looked, there were acres and acres of apples, pears, quinces, and grapes. I think there were a lot more apples than grapes, actually.
8. It is possible to have a bad meal in Italy.
Okay, so I kinda knew that… I was just sorry that it was proven to me on more than one occasion.
7. I probably shouldn’t do half board options in most places.
Half board options are very popular in some resort hotels. They’re not a good choice for me, though, because I’m a bit picky about a lot of things. And some things make me throw up. If you’re not a picky eater and you’re budget conscious, they’re a better bet.
6. Right now, Europeans are a bit leery of Americans… even more so than usual!
Actually, it seemed like Germans were leery. We did get a few side eyes during our trip because Americans aren’t supposed to be in Europe. But if you live here, you can travel as if you were an EU citizen, as long as you can prove you’re a resident. Still, people will look sideways at you if they hear an American accent.
5. But after a few days, they’ll relax…
4. The Parcines waterfall is not very accessible right now.
I wish we’d had the chance to visit the waterfall. It’s obviously a tourist draw. Too bad the landowner felt the need to block off the area around the waterfall. I wonder if she did it because of people being bad guests and leaving trash and COVID-19 was just a convenient reason to fence it off. I don’t know…
3. COVID-19 rules are different in different countries.
Seriously– we had to wear gloves in Austria, but no mask. We wore a mask at the buffet in our Italian hotel, but no gloves. And in Switzerland, we weren’t required to wear a mask OR gloves, even when we went to the grocery store.
2. I really need to visit the Reschensee area.
I was on the right track back in 2009, when I was looking at booking a hotel there. It’s a beautiful area, and I’d love to get a closer/better picture of the partially submerged church tower.
1. Austria is AWESOME.
I knew it was awesome from previous trips, but it had been four years since our last Austrian visit. We definitely need to visit there more frequently. I think, overall, our time in Austria was my favorite. It has stunning views, excellent food, laid back people, and many natural wonders, along with beautiful accommodations. I hope we’ll have another opportunity to see more of it. I also have a new appreciation for Switzerland. We need to see more there, too.
I managed to get up in time to take a couple of pictures of the sunrise over Lake Konstanz on Sunday morning. It was a little sad to think of leaving the lovely Oberwaid Hotel, but I was definitely ready to get home and start writing. I have a few folks who genuinely look forward to reading these posts and it was time to dish!
We enjoyed another fine breakfast in the restaurant, albeit for a hefty price tag. Then we loaded up the car and Bill checked out. The receptionist kindly offered us bottles of sparkling water for the journey. Once again, as I left a hotel, I found myself saying “What an amazing place.” I would come back to the Oberwaid for sure. Next time we need a short break from Germany, it’ll be on our list! Hopefully, by then, the COVID-19 situation will be better controlled. But if it’s not, I’d still feel very safe in that hotel. I noticed they have a huge team of housekeepers, all of whom wore masks and keep the place sparkling clean. Here are a few parting shots before we got on the road to Wiesbaden.
We had a choice of several ways to get home. If we still lived near Stuttgart, we would have driven through Switzerland to the familiar border at Thayngen, which ultimately leads to A81 and past our old stomping grounds. But since we now live in Wiesbaden, Bill decided to get on A7 on the other side of the lake. From there, we passed through Baden-Württemberg and Bayern (Bavaria) until we finally reached Hesse. We hit a few staus on the way, one of which was pretty obnoxious and took some time to get through.
Against our better judgment, we stopped at a McDonald’s for lunch, but decided against eating in the restaurant due to the high number of people there. It wasn’t even a good restroom stop, since patrons could only go one at a time and there was a line. So we ended up peeing at a nearby rest stop. We should have just gone there to eat, too.
Arran stayed at the Birkenhof until Monday night. I wish we could have picked him up on Sunday, because I really missed him. But we weren’t sure when we’d be back on Sunday and the Birkenhof only allows a short window for pickups.
I’m really glad we took this trip, especially as the news about COVID-19 gets bleaker. There have been more cases in Europe lately because people are traveling. I didn’t feel particularly unsafe when we traveled, but there was definitely no chance of forgetting the pandemic, even in Switzerland, where things seemed the “slackest” (and that really surprised me). I’m not sure when we’ll get to do another lengthy trip. I hope it won’t be too long. For now, I’m glad we took this opportunity to change our scenery and get new pictures. I hope you enjoyed coming along for the ride!
I’m amazed at all we were able to do– hike through a gorge, look at a waterfall, go to the top of the Zugspitze, see several beautiful lakes, eat good food, visit Lake Konstanz, and enjoy excellent hospitality. Overall, it was a very special and memorable trip. I’m glad we did it, even if I’m now slightly worried about exposure to the virus. But I’d rather live life than stay locked up, drinking wine in the backyard with the dog.
Saturday morning, I woke up and noticed the sunrise peeking through the curtains. Because I was enjoying the bed so much, I didn’t get up to take a picture of it. Instead, we slept in until the sun was up, then we went down to breakfast. Unlike the other two hotels we visited, Oberwaid isn’t doing a buffet right now. Instead, you sit down at a table and a server brings you bread and a tiered plate stand with fresh fruits, cold cuts, cheese, smoked fish, and horseradish sauce. You can then order eggs, bacon, porridge, fruit juices, or rosti if you like. Naturally, you can also get coffee and tea, although prosecco is an extra charge to the 25 franc breakfast.
After breakfast, we decided to check out the pool, which was one of the amenities that attracted me to booking the hotel. Due to COVID-19, the hotel requests that people change in their rooms instead of the locker room. That was fine with me. We went down to the indoor pool area and enjoyed swimming some laps. I noticed, with much amusement, that on the ceiling, there was a warning about the pool walls. I suppose that’s for people doing the backstroke so they don’t hit their heads. I have never seen that at an indoor pool anywhere before, but I definitely appreciated it. I have hit my head more than once while doing the backstroke (explains a lot, I know). There was also a backboard by the wall. I definitely felt like this was a health and safety inspired operation.
There was just one other couple in the pool area with us. They left and went outside to the hot tub. I must say, the hot tub at Oberwaid is very impressive. It rivals what we experienced in Gothenburg, Sweden last year at the Upper House hotel. Only four people are allowed in it at a time right now. There’s a rack where you can lie while the water bubbles, pressurized water spouts for massaging the shoulders, and my personal favorite, stations in the corners where you can get an all body massage from jets that surround you as you hold on to a circular bar that surrounds your body. There’s also a very nice walking park around the hotel, and a fully equipped fitness room, which of course we didn’t bother with. 😉
Indoors, there’s a Turkish bath, steam room, massage rooms, and a sauna. We didn’t opt to use the facilities indoors because of the whole COVID situation, but it appeared that everything was open. They also had water and a very comforting hot tea available. Spa services were available, although they required mask use for the therapist and the client.
After about an hour in the pool, we decided to visit nearby Rorschach, which is a town right on the Bodensee. If we had had another day, we would have made a point of visiting St. Gallen itself, which is very charming. But I was especially interested in getting to the lake, because even though we lived in the Stuttgart for six years over two different stints, we had never managed to visit the Bodensee up close. I got some very nice pictures after we had Italian food for lunch. We happened to stop into a pizzeria about a half hour before their pause. The waiter was kind enough to serve us anyway, although he told us in his Swiss style German that the pause was imminent.
After we walked around Rorschach for awhile, we decided to go to the COOP store– that’s a Swiss grocery store chain that we have encountered a few times. No one in the grocery store wore a mask, at all. There were markings on the floor showing where people were to stand and the cashiers were behind plexiglass. Other than that, it was pretty much business as usual in there. I must say, it was quite a surprise to see that.
We picked up some Swiss wine, dental floss, and sparkling water. Then we went back to the glorious hotel room and I watched What’s Love Got to Do With It on my computer. That is, of course, the 1993 movie starring Angela Bassett and Laurence Fishburne as Tina and Ike Turner. I was inspired to watch it because Tina Turner is now a Swiss citizen and lives near Zurich with her German husband, Erwin Bach. We didn’t bother with dinner, although housekeeping did bring us a couple of chocolates for our pillows.
I definitely would have liked to have explored St. Gallen and its surroundings more, but the trip was winding down and it was time to focus on the journey back to Wiesbaden on Sunday. I’ll wrap that up in the next post. I hope we can get to the Hotel Oberwaid again, though. It’s now one of my favorite hotels in Europe. I’m developing quite a list!
We decided to stop for lunch at an Austrian truck stop, once we drove through the gorgeous mountain pass that took us out of Italy. That border was being actively patrolled by Austrian police officers, much as the Swiss police always keep an eye on the Swiss border. Bill had prepared for us to be stopped in Italy, which has a form one should fill out before arrival declaring that one has not been in a risk area. But we were never stopped in Italy, Austria, Switzerland, or Germany. On the other hand, I read that each country had an uptick in COVID-19 cases over the weekend. I suppose it doesn’t matter that we left, since Germany also experienced an uptick as people continue to travel.
In any case, the Austrian truck stop required masks, except in the restaurant. As we sat down to enjoy hearty Austrian fare– cordon bleu for me and Farmer’s toast for Bill, a French family sat at the next table. It was an older couple with a young man who was wearing his mask the whole time. We noticed they spoke English to the waitress and the young man gave me an alarmed look when I sneezed (into my elbow). Sorry… I have allergies, which sometimes make me cough and sneeze. One thing I really hate about the whole pandemic is that it’s made everyone suspicious of everyone else. It’s made socializing and meeting new people difficult. It’s taken away things that bring joy, like live music and physical affection with friends. But, at least the food was good, and we were soon on our way to Switzerland.
I had gotten an email from the Oberwaid Hotel a couple of days before our arrival in St. Gallen. The email detailed a “code of conduct” for the hotel, which is also a medical clinic and got its start as a sanatorium. Basically, the email let us know what was expected of us as guests during the pandemic and offered us the chance to cancel our reservation free of charge if we were feeling ill or didn’t want to submit to having our temperatures taken at check in. Masks were not required at all, although the staff members wore them. The elevators had signs requesting that people not use them with strangers, and the generously sized hot tub stipulated a limit of four persons at a time.
Honestly, after four nights at a decidedly kid friendly hotel, I was more than ready for the Oberwaid experience. This hotel does not allow guests under age 16 from June until December. It’s a place where people seek medical care and there is an actual medical center in the building. They offer treatment to people with psychosomatic issues, as well as people who have cardiology, orthopedic, or physical therapy needs. Fortunately, despite my sneeze in the truck stop, I was feeling fine. So was Bill. We pressed on toward Switzerland and bought our 2020 vignette at the border, something we used to do every year when we lived in Stuttgart.
I knew it was going to be a unique experience, no matter what…
We got to the hotel at just after 3:00pm. That’s when check in begins. We had our temperatures taken and recorded and filled out a form showing that we live in Germany and haven’t been to a hot zone in the last couple of weeks. The receptionist also gave me a hard copy of the code of conduct, which was presented in flawless English. Then we went to our room, number 351, which had a lake view. As soon as I saw the bed, I knew it was nap time! I also knew that no one’s screams would wake me from my afternoon slumber.
Oberwaid offers half board, which I didn’t sign up for. In retrospect, maybe it would have been alright to do half board at this hotel, since it’s not near any restaurants and the food is excellent. We did choose to have dinner there Friday night– it was 85 francs per person– and we had breakfast both mornings at 25 francs per person. No, it’s not cheap, but I was happy with the quality of the food as well as the service, which was extremely professional and efficient.
After we ate, we decided to retire to the room and enjoy the peace, quiet, and air conditioning! I had big plans to try out the pool and hot tub on Saturday, then venture into Rorschach. More on that in the next post!
After we visited the wood carver, we decided to go back to the hotel. I could have used a swim. It was hot outside. But I also wanted a drink, so we went to the bar and had the bartender make us a round. I had a gin and tonic with a locally produced gin– Edelschwarz Organic Gin. It was served with a blue ice cube. Bill had one a couple of nights prior made with a yellow ice cube. He laughed and said my drink looked like the blue water in a Tidy Bowl… and his… well, it looked like something else that goes in a toilet.
Thursday night’s dinner was the seven course tasting menu. And, as nightmarish as Tuesday’s mushroom debacle was, Thursday night’s dinner was worse, if only because I ended up getting sick. It wasn’t because I drank wine or because I got food poisoning. Again, it’s because I have some aversions to certain foods. I blogged about Thursday’s meal on my main blog, so if you want the dirty details, you can find them here. Suffice to say, it was a struggle to get through the meal. Here are some photos of what we ate.
I was mostly okay until we got to course six. I try not to eat veal. I can eat veal, but I choose not to. This was served with asparagus and a sauce that tasted very earthy to me. I never even touched the veal. The asparagus, which I am sure was fresh, but was kind of mushy, blended with the sauce, turned my stomach. I almost got sick at the table. I went to the ladies room and managed to calm down my stomach enough to finish the meal. But then, once we got back to the room and I started doing my routine before bed, I knew it was all over. I’m sad to say, that tasting menu meal didn’t stay with me.
I’ve read a lot of reviews of this hotel. Many people really like it. I will say that there were things about the hotel that I liked. I didn’t think the food was terrible, either. But I have definitely had much better and I shouldn’t have thrown up after a tasting menu. Yes, there was booze involved, but that’s not what made me feel so icky. I just don’t think half board is a great idea for me, although I did okay with it at Hotel Kristall.
The next morning, we got up, had our breakfast, loaded up the car, and checked out of the Klein Fein Hotel Anderlahn. I did like the staff very much, and I thought the hotel was stylish and had a nice spa. But I think the management needs to decide if they want to be a family hotel or a spa hotel. Unfortunately, the way it’s laid out, the hotel is not so good for people who don’t have children, especially in the summer when the windows have to be kept open. Still, the staff presented us with a bottle of prosecco and some red wine salt after Bill settled the bill with them. He also contributed a tip to the piggy bank, the contents of which are divided up and shared among the staff each month.
On our way out of Italy, we stopped at Speck World, a shop run by Moser, a company that makes and sells pork products. They have a processing plant in Sud Tyrol. I didn’t realize it when we stopped in, but their shop also has a cool little museum and a public restroom.
Once we picked up some salami to take home, we stopped in another little shop where a bunch of guys were sitting around drinking beer. They were also selling Moser pork products, so we bought olive oil and wine.
Our drive to Switzerland was pretty interesting. Back in 2009, when I was looking for a place for us to visit, I strongly considered booking us a room near the Reschensee (Lake Reschen). This is a manmade lake near Reschen Pass that dates from 1950. Prior to 1950, the area was known as Graun im Vinschgau. It once was a normal town in northern Italy, until the powers that be decided to flood it by building the lake. All that remains visible of the former town is an abandoned church tower, which dates from the 14th century. We ended up passing it as we made our way north. It’s said that on some nights, one can hear the church bells ring, even though they were removed the week before the town was flooded.
This little town on the Reschensee is very close to both Austria and Switzerland. However, our route took us into Austria for quite a ways. I was surprised how long we drove in Austria before we got to St. Gallen. More on that in the next post.