Bamberg
JUNE 23
I slept late, and the sun is just above the horizon, competing for dominance of the sky with a bank of clouds on the horizon. The sun's going to win. Scattered clouds, light blue sky on the horizon ahead of us, strengthening into dark blue above. Still a pastoral landscape, trees lining the river, truss bridge ahead of us casting an almost perfect reflection on the still water.
Locks are getting to be old hat by now; but they are interesting. What makes them the most interesting is that they are less than two feet wider than the ship, so the captain is guiding this 400+ foot ship between two towering concrete walls with less than a foot of clearance on either side. They bump now and then but generally it is an impressive performance. When we enter each lock, we are at the bottom, with the walls all above us; the walls are right outside the floor-to-ceiling windows which makes for a striking visual. And then when that wall outside the window starts sliding down as the ship rises...
It's become partly cloudy today, which is a nice change.. We are sailing east, into the sun, and sometimes it seems like we're doing that literally.
Big news last night, speaking of the weather. This beautiful weather has its costs – no rain means that the low rivers are even lower. The Main, being essentially a chain of lakes with water control throughout, is not affected much, but, apparently the Danube is a “free river” in its upper half. There's a stretch where the bottom is rocky, and right now, it's too low for our ship to pass through without scraping on the rocks. We draw 2.8 m, and right now those rocks are at about 2.6 m.
So – we're going to have to switch ships! We'll get off in Nuremberg, see the city as planned, and then get on a bus and drive three hours (!) to Passau, which is on the Danube and below the rocky section. We'll board a sister ship to ours – identical, we've been told, except for the painting at the top of the third floor stairs (we'll get to that) – which has been doing the trip in the other direction. That ship's passengers take the opposite bus trip and board our original ship in Nurenburg. Then each ship will turn around and continue the trip back in the direction it came, each with the same crew but different passengers.
Whew! Massive management issues for the cruise line, and we have to pack and unpack and spend three hours in the bus, all because it hasn't rained enough.. Good heavens.
By the way, Viking river cruise ships are named after Norse gods – apparently, the more obscure gods, since I have not heard of a Thor, Odin or Loki in the fleet. Our ship is the Gefjon, named for the goddess of the plow. This is explained on a plaque next to a huge, melodramatic painting (top of third floor stairs) of a woman with a big sword, with giant swords all around her, but a small plow and some oxen down on the bottom right. I guess you can't get very hyperbolic about a plow; swords are more appropriate for gods and melodramatic paintings representing a cruise ship, unless they can change those swords into plows, which there is no evidence that this goddess can do.
A convocation of ducks on a pebbly beach; they look like they've just woken up. A little further on, another convocation in the water, families with little ones. There are a lot of waterfowl on this river.
A graceful narrow concrete bridge, arching over the river, big enough only for pedestrians and bicyclists, rising out of the woods on one side and disappearing into the woods on the other side. Why here? Who uses it? There's life along the river that we are cannot experience.
I just realized that never explained why they closed down the roof deck. The bridges on the Main are all sizes, including just high enough for our boat's superstructure to slide underneath. If the chairs, railings, etc., were up, they' be carried away. At the locks, there is usually a catwalk – usually enclosed – over the lock, and these also can be right down at roof deck level. Abbey and I both miss the roof deck, since the view from there is much finer than anywhere else. It's 360 degrees, and you don't have to look through a plexiglass wall, and the reflections on it, to see the sights. And it's quiet.
There is a wheelhouse on top of the ship, much like the ones we've seen on barges and, in the same way, it can be raised and lowered. There is a big well, the size and shape of the wheelhouse, below it, and we are told that the wheelhouse is lowered into this well when there is a low bridge coming up. I assume they navigate with cameras at that point.. One more way that the ship is designed to fit the river.
Locks are shorter up here toward the top of the Main. The shipping seems nonexistent – I've seen one barge in the three hours I've been sitting here this morning. Good thing – the river is not very wide thorough most of its length – which is why it is such a lovely place to be, between two walls of trees, the water and the sky.
Humorous (I suppose) note –In the evening, before bed, I usually set out everything I need for the morning in the bathroom, so I can get ready without the room light, which would wake Abbey. Last night I forgot to set out my hat and glasses, so here I am on the bow, facing the sun with no hat to shade my eyes, typing the journal without actually being able to see the words on the screen. I can't wait to see what I've created.
Everyone seemed happy that it will only be in the 80s today, instead of the 90s. Yesterday was brutal.
A kind of relaxed morning, late breakfast with Abbey, then I went to work on the journal and she took a nap.
Lunch in the dining room, since we didn't get out to the deck in time to snag a table. We ate with a retired teacher from Maryland, traveling with a friend.
Bamberg was advertised as a medieval city which hasn't changed, and, notably, was not – wait for it – bombed in WWII! However, nearly all the buildings, even in the old town, had been renovated and updated (most had modern windows). It is a charming town, easy to look at, but 'medieval' is not the first word that comes to mind when you walk its streets.
Bamberg was one of many towns and cities, mostly in Germany, which had served as the capital of the Holy Roman Empire at one time. Emperor Henry II and Empress Cunigunde of Luxembourg were the prominent ancestors of Bamberg. Both became saints, Cunigunde by walking over a path of red-hot plowshares. No, really. She was accused of unfaithfulness by political enemies when Henry was away, and the scandal was resolved with trial by ordeal – walk over the plowshares (which are the business ends – the blades – of plows) and if your feet were healed enough to walk in two weeks, you were innocent. I'll take a jury trial, thanks. Anyway, she did the hot walk and her feet were completely unaffected. Take that, political enemies! No word about what happened to them (the political enemies), by the way.
We spent some time at the Neue Residenz, another huge pile of a place built for the local prince-bishop (not the same one as yesterday, in Wurzberg, just up the river). The Renaissance section was built in the early seventeenth century and the Baroque wing was added about 100 years later. It has more than 40 state rooms, none of which we saw because we couldn't go inside. But it also has a very extensive rose garden, which we could see, because it is outside. Very beautiful, intricately designed and well-maintained. Abbey painted a scene from the rose garden (below) over the next few nights.
There's a small island in the river that flows through the town (the Main and the Canal are on the outskirts), and on the island is a beautiful building with frescoes on it sides. It's the Town Hall (our guide kept calling it the “Town House”) and the reason why it's on the island is a story I've forgotten; I only remember that it wasn't very interesting.
Three theories about why Bamberg wasn't bombed toward the end of WWII:
- Cunigunde reached down from heaven and created a mist to hide the town from the bombers
- American airmen appreciated the beauty of the town and dropped their bombs out in the hills
- There wasn't anything worth bombing in Bamberg
We had a couple hours of free time before the bus was to pick us up, and so did something we'd hoped to be able to do at least once on the trip: sit in an outdoor cafe and watch the world go by. We found one where 1) they took credit cards, 2) they spoke English and 3) they had a bathroom. It was great, and the waitress was patient and helpful. Abbey had a sparkling rhubarb drink which was outstanding, and a slice of rhubarb tart which was also good. I had bacon beer.
The local beer is very distinctive, and has a story to go with its uniqueness. Actually a number of stories, one of which might actually be true. As best as I could understand, it is made not by roasting the grain used, but cooking it over an open fire. An apprentice brewer making a mistake in the distant past? Availability of one fuel instead of another? Who knows. But the smoky flavor for some reason resolves itself into a taste like bacon or sausage. It also smells like meat. The aftertaste of the first sip was clearly the taste of sausage, although with each succeeding sip the aftertaste faded and it was more like drinking a robust dark beer. Overall, I enjoyed it, but it's not going to be on the very top of my list the next time I get to choose.
It was cloudy today, and windy – a nice change from 90 degrees and sunny. It even rained briefly; a chance to use the Viking umbrella i had lugged around all day.
A meeting in the lounge to go over the details of the transfer; another good dinner (trout starter; char main dish; key lime pie), and back to the room to pack. Not much fun, but packing never is. It's an interesting task: pack everything you won't need for the next 24 hours; put the rest in a backpack. Not as simple as it sounds; I had to re-open my suitcase three times to switch items.
Then a quiet time on the bench on the side porch, a nice calm interlude. Then to bed.
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* - Actually, this turns out to be one of the better pictures of the actual river. Enjoy.
** - Apparently, the term "defenestration," meaning assassination by throwing one out of the window, is generally used now as a result of the Defenstrations of Prague which, on two separate occasions in the fifteenth century, sparked horribly bloody wars, much as the assassination of Grand Duke Ferdinand sparked WWI. The local worthies in Prague were defenestrated from two separate buildings, both of which we visited later on in this trip..
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