Eastern Europe, Hungary, Memorials and monuments

Back to Budapest– Cloudy skies, Jewish memorials, quirky toilets, sexist servers, and Soviet monuments… part five

I got a kick out of the Art Toilet– especially the cat’s asshole…

After breakfast, after I did some morning writing, then picked up some vending machine tokens Bill had left over after getting water and a beer from the hotel vending machine. I figured after my walk on Wednesday, I could get something from the machine on the way up to the room.

The temperature had dropped, and the skies were cloudy. It looked like it might rain, so I figured I wouldn’t be walking many miles. To be honest, I wasn’t wanting to walk for that long, anyway. Nevertheless, I set off, and the first place I went to was a square where there was a statue of Archduke Joseph of Austria. On either side of the statue, there were two smaller ones with fountains that looked like they were made of ceramic. I was more impressed with the colorful, smaller, newer statues on either side of the bigger, older one of Archduke Joseph of Austria.

I continued walking and soon found myself near St. Stephen’s Basilica, a beautiful church with a treasury and observation terrace. I didn’t go into the basilica, because you have to buy tickets, and I prefer going to places like that with Bill. But I did take some photos, and I see I got a picture of that basilica in 2009, too…

I noticed this “Stolperstein” in Budapest. I didn’t see any others during our visit, but I’m sure they exist. In Germany, these are all over the place to memorialize people who died in the Holocaust.

I noticed signs for the Retro Museum near the basilica. That was a place I was actually willing to visit without Bill, so I headed in that direction. But, I turned the wrong way and headed further into the residential part of Budapest. Soon, I found myself near Liberty Square, looking at a very moving memorial for people who died in the Holocaust. Some of the papers in this memorial offered English translations.

I kept walking and passed a rather impressive looking playground, next to a large, rather Soviet era building, that didn’t seem to be maintained very well. The map tells me the building was the Exchange Palace. Close to that was the Soviet War Memorial, which commemorates Russian military who served in World War II. Looking at the war memorial brought back eerie flashbacks of my time in 90s era Armenia. A lady with four cute little dogs was also there. I focused my attention on them.

The sky darkened a bit, so I decided to move on. I walked through an unremarkable neighborhood, but noticed an interesting looking Hungarian restaurant called Taste of Hungary. You have to reserve to eat there, but I thought Bill might like it. I also noticed a familiar looking van… Unfortunately, we never got around to visiting the bistro, but maybe if we manage to visit Budapest again, we’ll make it there.

As I walked down the street, it looked like maybe there was a major road that might take me to an undiscovered part of the city, but as I got closer, I realized I was just looking at the Danube River. Soon, I noticed the Parliament building, which had become very familiar. I sighed and turned toward the now familiar Akademie Street, which I knew would get me back to the hotel. My ankle was starting to ache from all the walking, and soon it was painful. I decided it would be best to go take a rest.

I tried to decide if I wanted to eat lunch, but then determined I’d rather just relax for a bit. I got to the hotel and went to use the tokens for the vending machine. Unfortunately, I mistyped my choice, and wound up with a bottle of still water and M&Ms.

It was still late morning when I got back to the hotel. I went to the room, but it wasn’t yet made up, so I grabbed my iPad and peed, and went back to the lobby to wait for a bit. I noticed the housekeeping cart was in the hall, across from our room. I figured they would get to us soon. I played games on my iPad, ate the M&Ms, and drank the water.

After about 45 minutes, I went back to the room. It still wasn’t done, and they were still apparently cleaning the room across from us. I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell had happened in there, because they were doing an unusually thorough job of cleaning. I went back down to the lobby and then decided to take a short walk around, again thinking maybe I should have lunch. But I didn’t want to eat alone, so I went back to the hotel to try again.

I went back to the hotel… and ordered a large lager, just in case the housekeepers needed more time. When I went to pay for it, I was told one of my 1000 Forints notes is no longer valid. It’s old currency. I made what I’m sure was a hideous face when the lady told me that. Fortunately, I had another 1000 note that is good in 2025. I gave her that to cover the 2173 Forint bill for my beer, and told her to keep the change. I drank the beer, feeling really pissy and wanting to go home. Then, I went back up to the room, expecting that the room might finally be ready.

Below are 1000 Forints notes. The one on the left is no longer valuable. We’re going to send it to Bill’s grandson. Maybe he’ll find it interesting.

Unfortunately, once I got to the room again, they still hadn’t done the room. It was, at that point, after 1:00 PM, and I was feeling kind of cranky, because my ankle was hurting. As I was opening the door, one of the housekeepers appeared and asked if I wanted her to clean the room, or just change out the towels and get more toilet paper. I asked how long it would be before she was ready, and she said ten minutes. I told her she could skip us, because I didn’t want to loiter in the lobby anymore.

With the room situation settled, I took a nice nap. When I woke up, it was raining. I decided that would be a good excuse for us to go around the corner for dinner and eat at the Mercatino Ristorante Enoteca, an inviting looking Italian place very close to our hotel. When Bill got back to the room, that’s exactly what we did.

We walked to the restaurant, but first stopped at a very unusual public toilet near our hotel called Art Toilet. The below photos from from the men’s side, and we didn’t realize it was an actual working toilet until a woman used one of the stalls on the other side, which were identical, except there were toilets instead of urinals. You pay a machine admission, walk through a turnstile, and then get assaulted by the bizarre! There was weird 16 bit computer music playing, too. There was an art store next door, and a location of Madame Tussaud’s wax musuem. I think it was affiliated with Madame Tussaud’s. Have a look…

After we visited the quirky public pay toilet, we walked to the restaurant. We soon found ourselves sitting at a communal booth in the cozy restaurant. It was the kind of place where the tables were situated pretty close to each other, to maximize the number of people who could be served at one time. I understand that is a necessity in a city with as many restaurants as Budapest has, although it can lead to people being “trapped” at their tables, as they don’t want to have to squeeze their way out from between two tables that are close together.

I liked the inside of the Mercatino Ristorante. There were lots of bricks and a beautiful bar area, although it was just for preparing drinks, rather than sitting. The restaurant was pretty small, and I think reservations are probably a good idea there because of that. I got the sense that the manager/proprietor was very money focused, as well as loyal to his locals. He was clearly saving the coveted window seat for a regular who had made reservations.

Both a male and a female server served us. When the female server took a dish that had focaccia bread from us, I commented that I liked it. She hadn’t heard me, so I repeated myself. The male server piped up and said, “She doesn’t speak English very well.” I noticed that the comment offended the female, and she flipped him the bird. She and I privately shared a good laugh, as the male server was oblivious to his colleague’s middle finger salute.

There was an American couple sitting two two tops down from us at the banquette, and when two ladies showed up and said they had reservations, they were seated at the two top between us and the other American couple. The younger lady had asked if they could sit by the window, but the proprietor answered curtly, “No.” I was a bit taken aback by that, but perhaps I shouldn’t have been, after the way the male server had openly insulted his female colleague. I sensed a touch of sexism in that place.

The two ladies were speaking French, but they also spoke English. It turned out they were from Montreal, Canada. The American couple volunteered that they were in Budapest to start a two week cruise on a Viking ship. They asked if we were also on the cruise, and I said that Bill was in Budapest working, and I was tagging along.

The American couple gave off conservative vibes. They were from Florida, and I heard the American man asking about the taxes in Budapest. They only had main courses. The ladies from Canada shared an appetizer and had main courses. Bill and I had a bottle of wine, sparkling water, main courses, and dessert, so when we were paying the bill, we rated a house shot of limoncello. The manager asked us to rate them on Google, which I did. Below are some photos…

*Bill had spicy tiger shrimp with black squid ink spaghetti.*

I liked the restaurant fine, but was a little put off by the rather curt manager and the male waiter. I also didn’t like that they held our wine hostage, and we had to ask them to top us up. Still, the food was good, and it was nice to talk to the Canadian ladies from Montreal. When the American couple left, it was kind of clear that they weren’t fans of our current POTUS… although they were polite about it. We didn’t bring up politics, by the way. The American guy at the other table did, just before he complained about Hungarian taxes.

As we were leaving, the female server and I shared another laugh and a hearty goodbye. I liked her. She clearly has spunk and personality to go with her good looks. I think she’ll go far.

Well, that about does it for Wednesday, September 10th. Stay tuned for part six!

Baden-Württemberg

Stuttgart, Germany… it’s as lovely as ever in the springtime… part two

On Friday, March 24, Bill and I made our way down to a very familiar city. We were both relieved to be on our way. The lead up to this trip had been very stressful, as our dog, Arran, was suffering from lymphoma, and we were very worried about the prospect of boarding him. He’d been physically healthy enough until the evening of March 16, when he suddenly had what appeared to be a stroke.

On the morning of the 17th, it was pretty clear that Arran was fixing to make his way to the Rainbow Bridge. We helped him on his way. While it was very sad to say goodbye to Arran, the timing of his passing was kind of fortuitous. It meant we wouldn’t be worried about him all weekend, as we were in the fall, when we visited Hotel Bareiss just after he was diagnosed with cancer.

March 24th was a rainy and chilly day. Noyzi was delighted to get to go to the Tierpension Birkenhof, though. He hadn’t been there since the fall, when we last went to see Dr. Blair. In November, we had our 20th wedding anniversary holiday, in Ribeauville, France. We took the dogs with us for that trip. For this trip, we needed to board Noyzi. I booked the Wald Hotel’s suite, and though the hotel is very dog friendly, the specific room we were staying in wasn’t, as it is carpeted. Luckily, Noyzi LOVES the hundepension. Arran used to like going there, but as he got older, he made it clear that he’d rather be with us. It was good that he didn’t have to endure a last stay there.

I got a video of Noyzi on his way to the “dog hotel”. He absolutely loves going there– as you can see! I was surprised to see that they’d done some renovation since we were last there, too. But Noyzi also likes coming home. Bill is going to go get him in an hour.

Noyzi is joyfully reunited with his beloved human friend, Natasha, at the Birkenhof.

Once the dog was dropped off, we continued our journey south. I had suggested to Bill that we should stop for lunch in the town of Besigheim, a hamlet known for its wines. It’s just north of Ludwigsburg, a city in the Stuttgart area we used to visit all the time. We had never been to Besigheim before, but I decided it would make for a nice stop when I saw someone share photos of it in a local Facebook group. We didn’t have the best weather, but I did find the municipality to be very charming indeed. Better yet, it had plenty of cheap parking, and a garage that had a public restroom, which Bill really needed. 😉

*Spotted at a rest stop… I should have bought the top sign.*

I managed to get some photos, and then we had lunch at a historic restaurant on the main drag called Ratsstüble Besigheim. It appeared to be a local favorite, and we did have a nice lunch there. I think the waitress was kind of curious about us. Overall, we liked the lunch, although my fish was a little burnt on one side. Bill loved his salad, though.

I don’t think they get a lot of Americans in Besigheim, although I could be mistaken. My German friend says that one of Barack Obama’s forebears was born in that town in 1729. These days, it looks like it’s mostly known for being a place to buy lovely local wines. I’d like to go back, as I noticed a nice looking hotel, a wine bar, and some inviting looking shops. They also had several restaurants that were intriguing, and an Italian Feinkost (gourmet shop).

I would have liked to have stayed in Besigheim longer, but it was getting later in the afternoon and we were worried about traffic. It turns out we were right to be worried. Getting into Stuttgart via Heilbronn and state roads was a bit of a nutroll. There was tons of construction, as usual, as well as the annoying traffic patterns one often encounters in Stuttgart. But, after taking our usual route back today, we can say with all honesty, the Autobahn isn’t a whole lot better. 😉 There is a reason they call it “STAUgart.

We arrived at Wald Hotel in the late afternoon, and were welcomed by a young man who half-heartedly offered to help us with our bags. I was more impressed the last time we visited the Wald Hotel, and stayed in the Junior Suite (which is a better room, in my opinion). That was in May 2019. But anyway, I got photos of the Suite, too… and I don’t think I need to book it again. It was nice enough, but I liked the Junior Suite more, and it costs less. I actually like the rainfall showers better in the newer Superior Rooms. They’re awesome, and have mood lighting. The “suites” are lovely marble, but they don’t have rainfall capacity or mood lighting. I also think the beds in the Superior rooms are more comfortable.

I see in my review of the Junior Suite (502/500) in May 2019, I mentioned a “mysterious stairway”. I think I figured out that it leads to the Suite (501), as the two can be booked to accommodate a family of up to six people. There’s also a little bedroom in the Suite complex (500) that probably gets used for kids.

We also got a free round of drinks in the bar because I am an Expedia gold member and booked through them. Wald Hotel used to have a really cool bartender named Angelo who worked there, but he retired not so long ago. The current bartender was very good too, although Angelo was an old pro, and it really showed. I’m sure the current barkeep will eventually become legendary in her own right.

We decided to eat dinner at the hotel’s restaurant, Finch, so we had our free round at the bar and the bartender beamed when Bill tipped her on the “free drinks”.

It does appear that Wald Hotel is doing things a little differently now. It used to be they offered free drinks in the minibar. Now it looks like the minibar is no longer “free”. Still, we were glad to be back. We got to bed at a reasonable hour and slept mostly well. The mattress was very firm, which we’re not used to, but that could be because I just put a foam topper on our bed.

Saturday, we made new discoveries, which I will write about in part three tomorrow.

Health, markets

Chemo, COVID, and another weekly market…

This week has really flown by. Here it is, Friday morning, and it’s time to write another blog post for my “travel/German living” blog.

Last time I posted, I mentioned that Bill wasn’t feeling well. In that post, I wrote that he was suffering from irritable bowel syndrome, fatigue from two back to back TDYs, and some kind of respiratory illness that wasn’t COVID. Well, it turned out we were wrong. Bill went to work on Monday, and learned that a couple of his colleagues who had been at the conference in Bavaria had come down with COVID. Since he still wasn’t feeling well himself, Bill decided to test. Sure enough, he had a positive result, so he’s been working from home for the rest of the week.

He’s actually feeling fine now, and never got very sick with the virus. He didn’t have a fever at all, never lost his sense of taste or smell, and aside from some coughing and fatigue, hasn’t been much worse for wear. Yesterday, because he’s over the virus, he took Arran in for his chemo treatment, and we attended the weekly market, although we made sure to stay on the periphery of the crowd. He’s working from home today, too, because his boss told him to, but he’s pretty much recovered from the sickness. I haven’t been sick at all, perhaps because I had COVID myself back in July. While Bill was at the vet’s office, he was masked, as everyone is required to be in any healthcare setting in Germany.

Arran is still doing well with his lymphoma treatment. His blood test didn’t reveal any progress, per se, toward technical remission, but we can see a difference in his energy level. For instance, a few days ago, I was eating a sandwich on my bed, and Arran managed to jump up on the bed by himself. He has pretty much quit doing that lately, but before he got sick, he always slept on our bed. He’s also been jumping up on the bench of our Eckbank Gruppe, which he always did when he was well. I know a lot of people wouldn’t want a dog sitting next to them on a bench or sleeping in bed with them, but for us, it’s a normal thing. I’m just glad Noyzi doesn’t do it, because he’s a lot bigger and hairier.

We had gorgeous weather yesterday for the market, so we went down for about an hour or so. We got some cheese, cold cuts, and beautiful produce. Maybe I’ll make a homemade tomato sauce today and we’ll make lasagne or manicotti. Of course, we also enjoyed some local wines, and waved to our neighbors. I really love the weekly market. I know the markets are common in larger towns, but our little neighborhood is unusually close knit, so the market is intimate and convivial.

Our town manager is always there to oversee everything, too. I think he does a great job. He’s very active on social media, and approachable. This is something we didn’t experience when we lived near Stuttgart. I didn’t know who the town managers were in our previous neighborhoods, nor did we have weekly events like we do in Breckenheim. But then, I don’t know if what we have in Breckenheim is the norm for the Wiesbaden area, either. I’ve noticed there’s been an uptick in events here just over the last year or so, but then, we did have to deal with COVID restrictions. Anyway, Bill and I both really like that they do these events here, and we have enjoyed meeting some of the locals with whom we share space.

Below are some photos from this week. First, are a few shots of our Arran, who is obviously feeling much better. Bill asked about the bill for his treatment so far, and the vet said there’s no pressure to settle up at this point. As Americans, we are allowed to use a “VAT” form, which exempts us from having to pay local taxes for the treatment. Whether or not to accept VAT forms is voluntary on the part of local merchants, since it involves paperwork for them. But it sure is nice for us when they do that, especially for expensive things like non-routine veterinary care, or big purchases like furniture.

This week, I read an article in the Washington Post about a woman who got expensive cancer treatment for her dog. She got a lot of rude comments from people, which I ranted about. Last night, she left me a very nice comment on my post, which you can read here. In any case, so far Arran is doing well, and we’ve been enjoying some priceless time with him. I also don’t expect that his care will cost as much as it would in the United States. As soon as we have a bill, I will confirm or deny that expectation for the curious.

And here are some shots from the market… Someone had some heavenly smelling bread. It smelled like garlic bread. I never did find the source, but they were also selling waffles with powdered sugar that reminded me of the early 90s, when I worked at Busch Gardens making waffle cones. I worked in “Germany”, and wore a dirndl. Little did I know what the future would hold.

Bill found some lovely Italian cheeses and cold cuts, as well as gorgeous, colorful produce… but I was there for the wine.

For some reason, the editor isn’t letting me put comments on the photos… Luckily, most of them are self explanatory. I did notice the Gastatte sign for the first time yesterday. Breckenheim has little signs on its historic buildings, as well as “stumbling stones” (Stolpersteine), placed in honor of local Jewish people who were victims of the Holocaust. The stones are now making appearances all over Europe. You can search my blog for more information on those.

Since Bill is feeling better, maybe we can get out of the house this weekend. We do have plans to carve pumpkins for Halloween this year, since we have new German neighbors with small children who requested it. I’ll post about that when the time comes. 😉

Uncategorized

Sud Tyrol and beyond… part eight

Bumming around Bolzano…

Back in 2009, I spent about a week taking bus tours with Alpine Adventures, which provided services to guests at the Edelweiss Lodge and Resort in Garmisch-Partenkirchen. For those who don’t know, Edelweiss is a special hotel that is only for people affiliated with the U.S. government or military. It’s a very nice and large facility located on the small military installation in Garmisch. We haven’t been back to Edelweiss since 2009, but I understand it’s serving even fewer people nowadays, thanks to German tax laws.

When Bill and I were in Germany with the Army, he was working for EUCOM and they frequently had conferences at the Edelweiss resort. I would tag along with him and go on tours with Alpine Adventures. Most of our trips were in the winter, which to be honest, was a much better time to go to Edelweiss because they were a lot fewer people there. But in June 2009, after our very first cruise (Royal Caribbean Vision of the Seas– Oslo to Stockholm), Bill and I had to rush back to Germany so he could attend a weeklong conference at Edelweiss. I spent that week taking tours that took me to Innsbruck, Munich, Berchtesgaden, and Italy– namely Vipitano and Bolzano (otherwise known as Bozen). We went to Bolzano to see Ötzi, the Iceman, and to mill around the city for the day. We didn’t have a lot of time to spend in Bolzano. I remember eating lunch there and then getting back on the bus to go back to Germany, with a stop at a famous church to look at a ceiling painting.

I remember that week as interesting, yet frustrating. We had a very annoying tour guide who looked like an ancient version of Pippi Longstocking and, thanks to a chain smoking habit, had a voice like steel wool. She was obsessed with Stadls… (hay barns). Since she led most of the tours I took that week, I had to listen to her drone about the Stadls and Mad King Ludwig all week as I was forced to sit next to strangers on the packed buses.

Anyway, I had liked Bolzano, and wanted to visit again with Bill. But every time I tried to plan a trip there, something came up that made it impossible. That was why I had focused on Bolzano this time. By the way, it looks like Alpine Adventures has quit doing the Italy tours. I’m sure a lot of the tours they offered in 2009 are now defunct, thanks to COVID-19 and the need to socially distance.

On Thursday of last week, we decided to visit Bolzano, a city that is as Austrian/German as it is Italian, although I noticed more people speaking Italian when we were there. As we were driving into the city, the amber check engine light came on in the Volvo. Bill, who is not the handiest guy when it comes to cars, started to freak out a little. The Volvo is a 2020 model and should not be having engine problems of any kind. But after about twenty minutes of fretting, he figured out that whatever the problem was/is (the light comes on and goes off at random) is something that needs to be checked, but isn’t urgent. We spent the day walking around the city, which was even more charming than I remembered it.

We stopped for coffee because I needed to pee…

My Italian friend, Vittorio, was born and raised in Italy. He later became a U.S. citizen, but left the United States because he was disgusted by it. He now lives in Germany with his second wife, a German. Vittorio has told me more than once that Bolzano is the one city in Italy that “works” and that he would live there, but nowhere else in Italy. But he’s still very much a proud Italian and though he is also a naturalized American, he does not identify as Italian-American. I don’t get to “talk” to Vittorio much these days. He got disgusted with Facebook, too, and dropped off of social media (and frankly, I admire him for that). But maybe he’ll drop by my blog and leave a comment about Bolzano. I was glad Bill finally got to see it for himself.

At about 11:30am, I started thinking we should look for lunch. I wasn’t actually that hungry, but I knew the restaurants would quickly fill up, and I hate it when I’m hangry. So does Bill, although he didn’t really want to eat so early. I talked him into sitting down, and that was a good plan… We had lunch at Trattoria Filo d’Olio, a tiny place in an alley. I liked that their outdoor tables were in a shady place.

We kept walking down the street and I suddenly saw the museum where Ötzi, the Iceman was displayed. There was a line to see him that stretched all the way around the corner. I saw the Iceman in 2009 and though it was fascinating to see his bones, that’s really all there is left of him– bones. I only need to see it once in a lifetime. Bill wasn’t interested in standing in line, either, so we kept walking and soon came upon an art exhibit. Bill loves looking at art, so we went inside. Donning our masks felt a bit stifling, as we spoke to the young artist who told us he’d rented the building for a week to show off his paintings.

As the day wore on, it got hotter, so we decided to head back to the hotel. On the way there, we stopped into 1000 e un Vino, an enoteca near the parking garage. We wanted to get some local wines to bring back to Germany with us. A lady helped us select some local varieties and even told us to take off the masks so we could understand each other better. As we were paying for the wine, she told us that since we’re in Germany, we can order from her store’s Web site and she’ll ship wine to us.

Before we went back to the hotel for our last night in Parcines, we stopped at a wood carver’s studio. I bought us a few treasures, since I’ve been missing doing that lately. I had a few wood carvings from prior trips to the Tyrol region, including my “drunk monk”, which I’ll share a picture of in a later post…

The dude on the second shelf, left, came home with us… so did a carved donkey. I chose the guy with the keys because he matches my “drunk monk” carving that I bought in Oberammergau in 2008.

Since Thursday night’s dinner was particularly rantworthy, I will write about that in the next post.

Rhein

The Oppenheimers…

I mentioned a couple of posts ago that Bill and I went to Mainz to meet an old friend of mine from my days as a waitress in Williamsburg, Virginia. On our way to his hotel, I happened to notice the plaques (Stolpersteine) featured in today’s post. I haven’t spent a lot of time in Mainz yet, but I did recently discover similar plaques in my own neighborhood of Breckenheim, a suburb of nearby Wiesbaden. That discovery led me down a rabbit hole of a fascinating tale about a local family who escaped the Holocaust.

The Stolpersteine (stumbling blocks) in my neighborhood.

The plaques I discovered in Mainz were in memory of the Oppenheimer family. Father, Wilhelm Gabriel Oppenheimer was born in 1888. His wife, Anna Metzger Oppenheimer, was born in 1896. They also had a daughter named Rosemarie Oppenheimer, who was born on December 9, 1924. Together, the family lived at Schillerplatz 5, which today is a tony address in downtown Mainz, very close to the center of the city.

Just as I did for the Kahn family in Breckenridge, whose plaques I found in August, I looked up the Oppenheimer family’s history. The Kahns were lucky enough to escape the Holocaust and relocated to the United States. The Oppenheimers, unfortunately, were unable to avoid deportation. The three family members are commemorated in Stolpersteine.

In 1939, Rosemarie Oppenheimer left Mainz via Frankfurt on a children’s transport bound for the Netherlands. She had joined other young refugee children at a Quaker school in Eerde to learn how to farm. Oppenheimer and the other youngsters were trained by a Jewish teacher. She had hoped to eventually continue learning in the United States, but World War II prevented her escape.

On April 10, 1943, Rosemarie and other children were deported to Vught Concentration Camp. Vught Camp, which was constructed in 1942, was the only official Nazi camp in northwestern Europe. It was originally divided into two sections– a transit camp designed to hold Jewish prisoners before they departed for Westerbork, another camp– and a security camp, where all of the Dutch and Belgian prisoners were held. Rosemarie Oppenheimer was in the security camp.

On July 17, 1942, Rosemarie was transferred from Vught Camp to Westerbork, another transit camp in northeastern Netherlands, where she stayed for a couple of months. Westerbork was constructed by the Dutch government, and was supposed to serve as a camp for Jewish refugees who had entered The Netherlands illegally. It was used as a staging camp for the deportation of Jews, and from there, Rosemarie Oppenheimer was deported on September 21, 1943. Her final destination was Auschwitz in Poland, where she was ultimately murdered on September 24, 1943. She was just 18 years old.

Rosemarie’s parents, Wilhelm and Anna, also died before they could escape the Nazis. In 1939, they fled to Belgium, but they were captured and sent to Mechelen Transit Camp. The city of Mechelen had a railway hub between Antwerp and Brussels; it served as a convenient place for Jews to be rounded up and deported. Most of the people who ended up at Mechelen were later sent to Auschwitz-Birkenau. Mrs. Oppenheimer was deported in 1942 and died at Auschwitz. Mr. Oppenheimer died on his way to Kosel.

Rosemarie’s older sister, Hilde, was born in 1921. She had gone to the school in Eerde ahead of Rosemarie and was accepted as an apprentice in England in 1939. Hilde was in a group of students who went to England before the war made travel so much more difficult for Jewish people. Unable to get back to the Netherlands, Hilde remained in England and survived.

It would be so easy to miss these “stumbling blocks” that appear in this area. I walked past the ones in my neighborhood for months before I happened to notice them one day while waiting for traffic to clear. I have made it a point to look up the histories of the people behind these inconspicuous memorials scattered around the Frankfurt-Mainz-Wiesbaden areas. They were real people with fascinating and often tragic stories. Given what’s been going on at the southern border within the United States, I think it’s important to read about what happens to people who are declared “illegals” and deported simply for being who they are. I have to admit, reading about the “transit camps” and “detention facilities” for World War II era “illegals” kind of makes my blood run cold. You would think we would have learned something from World War II. Clearly, a lot of people haven’t.

The Traveling Overeducated Housewife

…the wanderings and ramblings of a boring housewife…

Tag Archives: Stolpersteine

Back to Budapest– Cloudy skies, Jewish memorials, quirky toilets, sexist servers, and Soviet monuments… part five

Stuttgart, Germany… it’s as lovely as ever in the springtime… part two

Chemo, COVID, and another weekly market…

Sud Tyrol and beyond… part eight

The Oppenheimers…