We had decided to have a white Christmas this year, given our love of snowboarding, no family nearby for Christmas and a distinct lack of snow in London. Our friend Grant was also keen, and we arranged the trip back in summer. Before too long, Simon had also expressed an interest in the trip. After checking around, we decided to book our own holiday, which would give us the flexibility we needed, and also a slightly cheaper holiday. So, we booked accommodation via email with a family-run hotel near a ski lift in a village called Bad Gastein near Salzburg in Austria.
In the build-up to Christmas, our work colleague Brent was doing a gig at the Hope & Anchor in Islington on Friday 23rd of December. It seemed perfect pre-flight entertainment, but only Mike and I ended up attending - the others preferring sleep to partying. The gig was excellent, and I especially enjoyed the 'Do they know it's Christmas' song thrown in at the last minute. 'Twas nearly the night before Christmas after all. We even got a poster from the wall, like good little groupies.
We had an early wakeup call at 5:45am, and bundled ourselves out to Hammersmith tube after collecting Mike's phone charger from work on the way. We just missed a tube to Heathrow when we got there, and had to wait for ten minutes for the next one. We collected Grant at Acton Town on the way through, and arrived 1.5 hours before our flight at Heathrow. Not too bad we thought. Well, Heathrow was bedlam, even at 7:30am on a Saturday, although we got an empty queue for check-in. And we got the last three seats on our BA flight! Ouch! The Christmas rush was on.
Unfortunately, Simon was not as lucky. He was booked on a flight with Lufthansa that left 5 minutes after ours. He phoned us to let us know he had been bumped. Fortunately with a rental car we figured we could pick him up from several airports around Salzburg if needs be.
While we were milling around in the departure lounge, the fire alarm was triggered. A short buzzing was heard, then a recorded continuous announcement saying that staff would direct us to a safe place. The only staff we could see for a good couple of minutes were closing doors on us. Then, someone finally said we should move in a certain direction. So, the slow procession started. We walked until the announcement said that the alarm was in a different area and not to move. Fair enough. But we couldn't help thinking we'd all be dead if there was a real fire!
It didn't take too long to sort out, and our flight was only delayed by about 45 minutes! I think the delay had more to do with the fact we all had to be bussed out to the plane in a weird part of the runway.
The flight was OK. We were all split up due to the fact we got the last three seats! I sat between a young South African girl flying from Jo'burg to Austria (Kitzbuhel), and a grandmother flying with her family. They were both very nice, and I chatted away to them from time to time. When we got our lunch, I opened my yoghurt, and it spurted on my thumb. I saw the South African girl open hers and spurt yoghurt over her lap. So, when I saw the grandmother struggling to open her yoghurt at face level, I said 'Careful, it might spurt'. She didn't hear, so I said it again. She didn't hear, but opened it. And yoghurt went flying all over the place, and her. I discreetly wiped my hands! Her daughter jumped up and started mopping up the yoghurt.
Then, about 15 minutes later, the grandmother had a cup of coffee. She had a bit of a hand tremor, which was unfortunately holding the coffee at the time. Coffee flew around like mad. The daughter jumped up and ran off for a cloth this time. No harm done though. The grandmother was a bit embarrassed, but I think it was because of the daughter's fussing than anything else. I didn't mind at all. I certainly didn't wear any coffee. But now I know how the backs of the seats get so grubby. She apologised, but I told her this was the best flight I'd been on as I'd never seen a food fight on board before.
The flight was about 90 minutes long. And we had a nice view of the Alps coming in to Munich. When we landed, we had a message from Simon saying he was getting in via Frankfurt about two hours after us. We plonked ourselves at the Hertz rental counter, and settled down to wait for Simon. We didn't want to pick the car up straight away, because that would determine the time it was due back. So if we waited till Simon was there, we'd have the car those few hours longer.
Trouble was, they only had one Volvo station wagon left, and we thought we might need that for all the snowboards and skis. But, Mike was keen on the Mercedes C class he had booked. Turns out they had none of them left, and they offered us an E class (which was what Mike was hoping for anyway!). But, the snowboards just failed to fit in the boot by centimetres. So, the Volvo wagon it was! Mike grumbled off and on the whole week, even though Grant tried to convince him it was the best option.
Simon turned up, and showed us some postcards he bought in Frankfurt while on his stopover. They were particularly boring ones of the departure hall - so boring that he felt he had to buy them for their kitschness. But, I had to laugh when I saw the name 'Fankfurt Airport' spelled incorrectly in huge letters across the top of it. So, from now on, Frankfurt Airport will be known as Fankfurt.
As we had been delayed by Simon's 'bumping', we decided to drive straight to Bad Gastein in Austria, instead of an excursion into Munich proper for a look around. We left Munich with Grant navigating, and Simon and me squashed into the backseat, with snowboards for me to lean my head against. It was also a bit cooler in the back seat, so we covered ourselves with jackets, and soon we were fast asleep.
Hunger got the better of all of us, and we were scouting out a place to eat. We found a RastHaus restaurant in a service stop, so we checked it out. It was quite cheap meal for the four of us, and the food was pretty good (although suspiciously quick, so I think they had stockpiles of most of the food). Simon posted off a job application from this tiny place in the middle of Bavaria, so we hope it got there.
My German was slowly coming back to me. And we were even meeting people that didn't speak English straight off to us. So, I had some practising to do.
We found our way to Bad Gastein without any problems. But, we now realised we had no idea where Hotel Alpenblick was. Fortunately Grant had the telephone number. So, we parked in a car park next to a building with the words 'Stubnerkogelbahn' on it. I rang Hotel Alpenblick, and informed them who we were (they said they had been waiting for us - uh oh), and told them we were in Bad Gastein, but were a little lost. I said we were next to a building with 'Stubnerkogelbahn' on it.
Now, I am constantly amazed at the fact I can jabber away in a foreign language, string (probably poor) sentences together, and have someone understand me and answer back. Now, they often understand me, but it is a shame that the reverse is not always true. And, in this instance, I got a huge spiel of instructions and directions that I tried to relay to the others in the car. The critical one (apart from two 'turn lefts'), was to go in the direction of the green tree. Now, I couldn't figure that out, and neither could anyone else. I was hoping that we would attempt the directions, and find a huge green tree looming out of the night and realise that it marked the direction we should go in.
Fortunately Grant excelled as a navigator, and Simon could read signs, because we took off from the car park, and with the help of some huge road signs pointing to Hotel Alpenblick, we got there. And, funnily enough, the road we were on led to the next town - Grüner Baum (Green Tree). So, there you go.
We arrived, and attempted to park the car on the footpath right outside the door. Mike was even reaching the stage of moving their pot plants around to try and get closer (he was still sticking out into the street at this stage). Happily the manager popped out and told us we could find room further down. And, luckily, at this point, several cars left. So, we parked and dragged all our gear in.
We ended up with a pretty good room. Two bedrooms, and a bathroom. We met Frau Hirsch, who I had been pestering with emails since we started booking accommodation. They had already had dinner for the evening, but they had kept ours heated. So, although Grant & I were pretty full still, we felt obliged to eat their food. And we had excellent breaded pork chops, so I couldn't complain in the end.
We went to bed after that. I was excited as it was Christmas Eve the next day, and we were going to go snowboarding!
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| Early morning Alpen Blick |
We got up pretty early, or, rather, I did. Mike slept for a bit longer while I showered, dressed and videoed the valley and him!
Eventually we were all up, and we went for breakfast. Due to first day chaos, we just missed the bus into town. So, we chucked all our gear into the car, and drove to the ski lift car park. However, the chaos was to continue when we got there. We needed ski passes, Simon needed to rent gear, and some fine-tuning was needed on new or battered gear. I asked the information woman about the mountain and where we should go, and she gave us some ideas.
But, we all got up to the top of Stubnerkogel well before midday! The snow was OK. It wasn't fresh, but there was enough. And off-piste it was untracked, but heavy. Ok for snowboards. Grant was the only one of us on skis. Trouble was, I was almost a beginner on a snowboard. So, I was worried about keeping up. After riding the ski lift here for a few runs, we decided to check a run recommended by the info woman, down to Angertal on the other side. I had a good day, but got very tired coming down cat tracks to Angertal. I must have crashed about 20 times on one section, and it exhausted me. I even ran over Grant's brand new skis - twice! But, he was very kind to stay back with me and make sure I was OK.
As the lifts stopped at 3:30pm, I decided I would only cause havoc at this stage as I was so tired, and Mike said he would come down with me. Simon gave Mike some money for our bus ride back, because we would end up at Angertal base station, where the ski buses ran back to Bad Gastein. Simon and Grant went back up a lift, while we went down a groomed piste run after consulting the trail guide.
I had to rest quite often by this stage, and Mike would go on ahead a little, surfing through the powder at the edge of the trail. There was no one else around, so we had the mountain to ourselves. Then, Mike disappeared over a lip. I heard this little yell ' Angela! I've gone off-piste'. So, I yelled back 'Hold on'. I went over to the lip. Uh oh! The piste just stopped! He hadn't gone off-piste - the piste never went any further. So, I thought I'd have to go and find Mike. So, off the lip I went. I thought Mike was off further to the left, so I scooted around trying to bear left.
Eventually, I came out at a house, where I was greeted by a huge Pyrenean Mountain Dog. It had a very deep bark, and didn't look too friendly. So, I looked up the mountain, and I looked down the mountain, and chose to walk along the road heading down. There was a town at the bottom of the mountain that if all else failed, I would arrive at and catch a ride home even if I had to beg/hitch (as I didn't have any money at all!).
So, I picked my board up, hoped my new boots were up to the walk, and started. The road had lots of hairpin bends (or switchbacks - depending on what country you come from), which was hardly surprising as it was negotiating its way up the side of a mountain. I contemplated jumping on my board and cutting some corners, but I was a bit worried about hitting a barbed wire fence - or any fence for that matter!
After about 20 minutes walk, I came to an intersection. I was beginning to really worry about what Mike would be doing. Would he wait up on the mountain, or would he also walk down? I read the funny little signs at the intersection, and decided I would head left, in the vague direction of a busy road in the distance, and the train line. I strode off, trying to find the best position in which to carry my board without having the edges dig in somewhere. Then, I heard a wonderful thing - Mike shouting my name. I turned around, and Mike was running towards me from the other direction. Yippee!
He had got down about ten minutes before me, and walked down trying to scout around to the right, because he thought I was still on the piste run, and would come out at a car park somewhere. However, we figured out that I must have come out exactly where he did. I was so pleased to have caught up with him.
We decided to walk to the train station to check the timetable. I guess we walked for another 15 minutes before we got to the platform. Turns out the next rain wasn't for about 90 minutes! So, we thought we'd walk to the busy road we could see just about 500 metres down the train line. But, the road led us away from that and down into the township. Here I got to practise some more German, by saying were we a little lost and what was the best way to Bad Gastein. We were directed to the bus stop on the main road. And we didn't have to wait very long. And the bus was free too. Not too sure whether that was because of our ski passes, or that it was Christmas Eve.
We got back into Bad Gastein quickly on the bus, and walked to the car park, where we were supposed to meet Grant and Simon. I had visions of frozen friends on the Volvo windows (like those Garfield toys of a bygone era), but they were sitting around a food caravan, so they weren't starving or dehydrating.
We told them our tale of exploration, and they were envious (well, in our dreams maybe!). Still, we can say we've seen more of the valley than them. And that's the best way to look at our walk. 'Enforced March' just doesn't come close!
So, back to Alpenblick for some dinner. As it was Christmas Eve, this was the big event in the European Christmas Experience. Everyone gathered in the main restaurant (we were in a little room of our own, with the other non-Dutch speaking guests), and we gave rather dodgy renditions of German Christmas Carols. We really only hit the best with Jingle Bells (in English!). 'O Tannenbaum', and 'Stille Nacht, Heilige Nacht' were poor efforts on our part. And I'm sure the Dutch had their own words during 'O Tannenbaum'. A cacophony of sound can really only describe it.
They had a huge tree in the main restaurant room, and we had own own, slightly smaller, version in our room. And, it had burning candles on it, and some sort of biscuit as decoration. It looked lovely - like a fairytale. Nothing was overdone or too kitschy.
Grant was keen to exchange gifts at the dinner table, and we soon found out why. We all got Santa hats with long pigtails! And party poppers, which left their streamers in nooks and crannies all over our dining room and scared some other diners at the same time. However, Ywa and Stephen took a handful and let them off too. Funnily enough, that was the last time we saw the diners at the other end of the room.
After the meal, we returned to our room and exchanged our other gifts. I got some cool ski socks from Simon, and some lip balm. We thought we'd left my present from Mike in the car, so I postponed that until Christmas morning (as I prefer it anyway). We gave Grant a shirt, and although he seemed happy, I don't think he wore it for the rest of the week! I'll keep my eye out when we visit his place! Simon got a MagLite torch from us.
After a sleep involving trips to the toilet for me (I completely blame the goulash at lunchtime - I was the only one to eat it - and it was probably full of mad cows to boot!), we woke up on Christmas Day. I found my present from Mike, hiding in a bag in our room, so I opened that. A DVD of Gladiator! Woo hoo! As I was feeling tender, I stayed back today, and the others bundled themselves off on the bus.
Apparently, it snowed ever so briefly at the top of Stubnerkogel when they got there (or, that's the story I heard, anyway). So, they had a white Christmas. I watched several movies in German, and ate some Twisties (we had stocked up on junk food from the Kiwi shop in London!). I tried to ring Mum in Fremantle, and Karen in Sydney, and Shona in Melbourne - all to no avail. I guess I tried for about 4 hours, until it got too late for anywhere. I would have loved to have chatted to someone for a minute or two. Mike had managed to get a hold of his family late Christmas Eve, because New Zealand was exactly 12 hours different from Austria, and the time zones worked out. But, eastern Australia is that crucial 2 hours later, and I wasn't going to stay up on Christmas Eve until the wee hours!
So, it was a very odd Christmas Day. I was pleased to see Mike when he got back. And said the snow had been rubbish anyway!
Next day, the consensus was to drive to Salzburg and see a little Austrian culture. The reason being, there was no snow, and our bodies were feeling painful. So, we drove down to Salzburg, listening to horrible bad taste 80s music courtesy of Mike. Once in Salzburg, and parked in a post office loading zone (don't panic - it was a public holiday and we were free to park there), we wandered off to explore. We saw Mozart's birth house, which was shut. We had a hot chocolate in a café, which was open. We ate in a funny restaurant, which fortunately wasn't showing a stage version of 'The Sound of Music' at the time. We wandered through the castle overlooking Salzburg, and looked out over the whole valley to watch the sunset.
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| Entering the schloss |
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| Grant looking at the view |
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| Inside Salzberg Schloss |
One most excellent treat was the discovery of Mozart Balls (Mozart Kugeln). Ywa had told us to look out for them, and when I spotted some, I asked Mike to buy them. They were delicious chocolate balls, filled with nuts and praline. Very nice, and since returning to London I have eaten my wee box of chocolates up. But each one was a nice reminder of Austria. Mike bought me two more boxes at Munich airport on the way home, but they weren't as nice - they had marzipan in them! So, we split the Kugeln up - I got the Salzburg yummy ones, and Mike got the Munich yucky ones. Mike, of course, scoffed his without taking time to savour the experience. But, I gave in and let him eat a few of mine once his were finished.
We drove back to Bad Gastein, and met up with Ywa and Steve for a fondue meal at a local restaurant. Ywa had worked in Bad Gastein about 6 years ago as a taxi driver. So, she knew quite a few local places. We had an excellent meal, after ignoring all the beef meals on the menu - breaking news at present was the discovery of BSE in the beef herds in Germany. We were all reluctant to try beef. So, I had an oil fondue with Mike and Ywa, and Simon and Steve shared a stone platter. We ate constantly for about 3 hours! Chips, salad, and so much meat! All washed down with Apfelgespritz for me - beer for the others. Grant had piked and spent the evening soaking up Austrian television.
Next day (27th), the snow was very poor. There were quite a few stones poking through in places, and I wasn't confident at all. So, I decided to go for a private lesson. I booked an instructor called Oliver, and Mike & Simon booked a class lesson. However, because Mike & Simon were at different levels to the other groups, they got a private lesson with Oliver in the afternoon after mine.
By the end of the day, I had a bit more confidence on the hard packed mud. I caught up with Mike & Simon after their lesson, and learned that Oliver's new board had a huge gouge out of it from riding over a stone. He wasn't happy.
Back at Alpenblick, Mike & I got ready for a walk into the town centre. We wandered off, and found a nice café to eat some cake and have a hot chocolate. I had to laugh at the warning signs on all the building, saying to look out for roof avalanches. Honestly, it sounds pretty good in German. While walking back, we bumped into Oliver, still smarting from the damage to his board. We joined him and a friend for a drink or two in a pub. Mike started to think he would paint the town red. But, we had been asked by Ernst (the barman at Alpenblick) not to miss dinner tonight, as there was something special planned.
So, back at the 'Blick, we were indeed treated to something special. We ate serenaded by an accordion player, doling out tunes like mad. Mike tried to get him to follow his lead on 'Southern Man', accompanied by Grant, but the musician just looked shocked. Then he launched into Jingle Bells, as I think that was the only English tune he knew. We sang with gusto. The new diners at the end of the room looked horrified. They also didn't last long. We got a new bunch the next night that stayed until we left. Maybe they were deaf!
Luckily the snow looked like it was going to kick in finally. The clouds had been gathering the last two days, and now they looked like they would deliver the goods. We spent the evening playing Monopoly. But, before you all think happy warm thoughts about friends playing games together, let me tell you it was ruthless. As my family knows, I loathe Monopoly with a passion. Too many rainy days as a child, I think. It has also cured me of ever wanting to play any card games. However, the vote was for Monopoly, and we started. Somewhere along the way Steven and Grant entered into a joint venture over Parkland and Mayfair. Hotels started going up, and I left all my property and money to Ywa, who had just been wiped out by landing on Parkland. I figured time was much better spent reading a good book.
So, next morning we woke to the best sight. A dusting of snow. Woo hoo! We rushed out, excited at the prospect of a bit of powder snow. I did a run with the others, then booked a lesson with a group. My instructor was called Felix, and there was an 11 year old in the class also called Felix. Altogether there were about 5 students, and I was by far the oldest. The next age down was 17, unless you counted the instructor at 26! There was a 17 year old girl from Austria, a 16 year old German boy (who recommended food in the restaurant), a 16 year old boy from Israel (whose Mum wanted to swap countries with me and go and live in New Zealand), and wee Felix.
I actually learned quite a bit in this lesson, and managed to keep up with everyone, apart from the rubber-legged Felix! He was so light he never sank in any snow. I even managed to get traversing almost sussed. A big improvement from the first day anyway, when I boarded over Grant's skis! I enjoyed lunch, as I got to practise my German. But even wee Felix spoke pretty good English. I was so tired by the afternoon; I thought my legs would collapse. But I felt much better when everyone else said it had been really hard too.
Next day it was still snowing. So, we decided to try Graukogel, which was right behind Hotel Alpenblick. We walked there in 5 minutes, and we had the mountain to ourselves for quite a while. It was lovely riding through the powder, and I really enjoyed it.
But, the T-Bar put me off quite a bit. I had only tried it once before, during my lesson the day before and Felix (the instructor, not the student) had shown me how to ride it. But, the position of the T-Bar was so sore, I could only manage a few runs. After that I stuck to the chairlift.
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| Angela and Grant at Graukogel |
We ended up getting a bit stuck in the restaurant at the top for lunch. It took ages to get served, and because it was so warm, it was difficult to get moving again. But, Simon and Stephen arrived, and we all got going. Ywa was at the 'Blick, and nursing a 'flu of epic proportions. Stephen had gone back after spending the morning in the powder to check up on her. She had consumed most of Mike's Panadol by this stage. While he was back there, he collected Simon, who was enjoying his holiday - chilling out and relaxing.
I liked Graukogel. It was a family-type of mountain, and although it got a little busier on Saturday, it was a great place for a few days. And, if it were outside my backdoor, I'd be there as often as I could. And, I'd be a lot better at this snowboarding lark!
Saturday morning dawned, and we had to pack up and sort out our lives before starting boarding for the day. It didn't take too long, as more powder had fallen, and we were all keen to get some in before leaving. The plan was to stay up at Graukogel until just after lunch, when we would shower/sauna before driving to Munich. Mike and I boarded together for the whole time. I had a lot of fun this day. The powder was perfect, and I was beginning to feel how the board should work on the cat tracks.
We lost the others pretty quick, as I was still a bit slower, and I refused to go on the T-Bar again after one ride. It was too painful. At around 12:30, Mike and I decided to call it quits. We boarded all the way to the bottom (which you can usually do, but because the season has been a little warm, it wasn't properly open to the carpark), although I didn't realise the surface I tried to turn on at the bottom was actually a carpark with a dusting of snow over concrete! That was a painful fall! But, we snowboarded to the door of the 'Blick. Well, apart from the toboggan effect right at the end, between the carpark and the hotel proper - riding the board by sitting on the back of it! But, at least we stepped over the stone wall at the end, onto the road. Simon wasn't so fortunate. When he got down, he boarded right over the wall, caught the back of his board on the edge, and gouged the metal strip off his edge. But, hey, it was a rental board anyway. The story I heard was he handed it back with the tail down (as you do), and they accepted it back and he fled before they took a good look!
But, before Simon and Grant returned, Mike and I sat at the Alpenblick bar, and ate frankfurters for lunch. Then we had the best sauna and shower. We had it all to ourselves, and it was the perfect ending. We said our goodbyes to the staff, who had been excellent.
When Simon and Grant arrived, we did the final packing in the car. I got changed (we had a slight hitch in our plans, as Grant had the car keys with all our clothes and gear locked inside - we should have left the keys with reception). My hair froze solid when we went outside! Then we were off, with a slight detour to let Simon drop off his board. We waited with the engine running, just in case we needed to escape with a running jump from Simon, fleeing hordes of angry Austrian ski rental staff!
The trip back to Munich was eventful, and slow. Heavy snow flurries on the autobahn led to some interesting driving for Mike. But he handled it like he was born to it - and that was with an inferior Volvo - or so his story went. (The E-class, of course, would have had ABS, and traction control, and automatic, moisture sensing wipers, and .....) I think even Grant conceded some of these.
We got into Munich and drove down Rosenheimer Strasse, where the Hilton is, and where der Bus was stranded two Christmases back. Now they are building a high rise over the carpark. Nothing stays the same. By this stage I had figured out the Munich map. We bought it two years back, and it is an excellent map, but the pages are arranged in an odd way. So odd, that it takes a while to figure it out when I have a two year break from trying to read it. I navigated to within cooee of the hotel Arosa, and then between that map and the Lonely Planet, we got the rest of the way.
Now we enjoyed two days in Munich. Hotel Arosa was even better than we remembered it, so that made up for the good restaurant not being as good as we remembered it. Mike and I have fond memories of the Glocke Restaurant in the center of Munich from our stay there 2 years ago. But, something was missing this time. Although the food was good, it wasn't quite as good as in our minds. And the service was pretty suspect - a huge Bavarian woman who wouldn't take any nonsense!
We wandered back to the hotel, where we made plans for the next day. Simon had a flight to catch at 1pm, so we arranged for an early breakfast.
Breakfast at Hotel Arosa was good. We had a buffet style breakfast of anything from cereals to rolls with meat and cheese. Very yummy! And it was snowing as we ate. Then we set off for a walking tour of Munich's center. Everything was shut, being New Years Eve, but with a skiff of snow the city was very pretty.
Simon returned to the hotel, gathered his things and was off, with enough change for his ticket (hopefully!). We decided to go and visit Dachau, which was about 20 minutes north of Munich center on the train. We found an awesome ticket for five people, for all zones for 18DM. Much better value than the 8DM each that we were all going to pay for one trip out there! We went down to the platform (eventually), and waited for a bit. Then Grant needed the toilet, so we convinced him it was better to cross the platform when a train was in the station, than it was to wander up and down the escalators and get lost again. (This was a slightly unusual arrangement with two platforms separated by one track, and the train would open both sets of doors when it pulled in). After checking the feasibility of this when a train came in, Grant ran through the next train, and out the other side, to find a toilet on the opposite platform.
I waited on the original side to read the train arrival notices while Mike went through to the other platform to look for Grant. Soon, I saw our train was due, so I frantically waved at Mike to see if he could find Grant (to give him a hurry along). But, Mike came back saying the toilets were miles away. Our train came in; I hopped on as Mike was waving me through to his side; I ran out, as Mike and Grant both ran on! I turned and jumped on. Tourists!
When we got to Dachau, we caught a bus from the town center to the concentration camp site. It was very cold. The museum displays were mostly in German, so we found it difficult to understand all the text, and unfortunately, you had to go through the museum to find a guidebook in English!
The first set of photos and posters were about the lead-up to Hitler's rise to power in Germany. Then, there were many photos of life in Dachau, both from the prisoners' perspective, and the officers guarding them. Although there were warning notices at the start recommending no under twelves be allowed in, as some things may be disturbing, there were only a few photos I would categorise as being revolting. Of course, the whole scenario was awful in itself.
After the museum, we went to the incinerator, where the dead were cremated by the thousands. There was a gas chamber in the form of a shower room that for some reason was never used at Dachau (although the same idea was used in other concentration camps). That was quite an awful feeling, as we walked though it. There were thick windows in the walls so the jailers could view what was happening inside.
There was one reconstructed barrack room from the 30 or so that existed while Dachau was in use. It was locked, but peering through the windows I could see that it was just an empty shell.
This isn't the first time Mike and I have seen the effects of the war up close. In Prague we visited a synagogue with the names of 70,000 Jews that had died or disappeared during WWII from the Prague region. I think it is important that these places be left as a memorial to the devastation a war brings to a country, or a race (as in this case). We also saw buildings destroyed in Dresden from Allied bombing, and some were left as a reminder in their ruined state.
I can't believe that people survived as they did at Dachau. I was wandering around, having eaten a great breakfast, wearing a snowboarding jacket, and being quite healthy (at that point anyway - I caught Grant's cold later) - and I was still quite cold. I wouldn't know how to keep going with a cotton layer, and probably no shoes. And the people often arrived here in a wretched state from transports from all over the area.
We probably spent about 3 hours wandering around the concentration camp, and I'm glad we did. As I felt when we had a look around Normandy and the Somme, we owe quite a debt to the soldiers that fought in this war. And it shouldn't be forgotten.
Heading back into Munich, I tried to ring my Mum, because it was almost midnight there. She was up seeing in the New Year by herself, because Robert, Karen & Scott had all crashed out. But, being Scots, Mum always sees the New Year in.
We returned to the hotel for a rest before heading out to a Beer Hall. Now, let it be said, that at this point Mike was getting his own way, because Grant and I both wanted a quiet little restaurant. So, Mike searched the Lonely Planet and tracked down a good Beer hall not too far away. When we got there at 7pm or so, it was packed! I didn't fancy our chances of getting a seat, but Mike persisted in searching. And, he found one. At the end of a large table, across from an old man slopping up his roast dinner, we all sat down, with Mike opposite Grant and me.
We attracted the attention of a waiter, and Mike ordered beer, and I ordered apple juice and Grant ordered lemonade. The waiter huffed and puffed and wandered off. The German woman sitting on my right told me that you're only supposed to drink beer in here. I thought at this stage we would be better off leaving, but Mike was happy. So I put up with the waiter, whom I soon noticed was grumpy to everyone. The German woman said it was because he had to work while we all relaxed.
The food was OK in fact, and the soup beforehand was excellent (a mushroom specialty of the area). I chatted away to the woman next to me. She was from near Frankfurt, and was traveling with her husband and another couple. She didn't speak any English, so I had my first conversation fully in German with a West German. She was about 63 years old, and retired. Mike meanwhile, chatted to the old Bavarian man next to him. Mike speaks about 20 words of German, but managed to have a conversation lasting three hours or so with this old man. I could hardly understand him, but neither could the woman I was talking to. She said he had a strong Bavarian accent.
Mike had a meal of beef, which sparked quite a lot of conversation with the Germans next to us. BSE was a huge talking point, as the Germans had just released details of the discoveries in Germany of completely mad cows! Mad! I stuck with fish!
I mentioned we had visited Dachau that afternoon to the woman, and we discussed (that might be a bit of a strong word given my poor German) the war. She had her father die in the last few months of the war as a 29 year old man. She said that the Germans today were still paying (paying, paying) for Hitler's crimes, and it had nothing to do with anyone alive now. It was very interesting to hear a perspective on the war from an older German.
The old man meanwhile, had finally figured out a few things. We had told him we were from the same town in New Zealand, but that Grant couldn't remember any streets there. The old man came up with a theory that Grant and I had been together until Mike came along and took me from him! But we set him right with that idea!
So, although I had been dreading the Beer Hall, it turned out all right. I enjoyed our conversations with the older German woman, and the old Bavarian man. We left around 10:30, and thought we'd go back to Hotel Arosa for a rest till near midnight. On the way out Mike tried a test breath analyzer. This got a group of drunken Germans very excited. They urged Mike on as he blew. But Mike didn't even get to the .05 German drink-drive limit, let alone the NZ and UK limit which is half as high again! Then the next guy had a go, he went way over Mike's effort. We left, hoping there were no cars around for them!
Grant decided not to come out to Marienplatz to watch the midnight fireworks. So, Mike and I went by ourselves. We had seen people selling fireworks in the restaurant, so we knew there would be plenty. And there was! A huge crowd was gathered around, huddled against the buildings as fireworks went off at random. People weren't being silly, which made me feel much better (being a bit of a chicken when it comes to fireworks). But while there wasn't any malicious problems, there were a few 'inadvertent' things happening. The first place we stopped at, there was a skyrocket going down the street at twice head-height - and lots of times a skyrocket would hit a building, bounce of its eaves at the top and do a power-dive into the people below! So I told Mike we had to shift. We went over to the other side of the square, out in the open, and we enjoyed the fireworks from that vantage point.
People were shooting skyrockets and huge 'pohas' like mad! For non-Kiwis, a poha is a little red thing with a fuse that goes BANG! - for you Kiwis though, these things were at least 2-3 times the size and punch of a common garden poha! These particular fireworks had been banned in New Zealand years back due to the damage inflected on bodies. The Germans had been fuelled by copious amounts of beer, and been given missiles and explosives! Madness! Their normally reserved nature disappeared, shattered by skyrockets hitting the old town house! Actually, I think there were a few skyrockets aimed at the town house. Certainly there were lots bouncing off it. How it is still standing if this happens every year is beyond me! We watched fireworks being set off for about an hour. Huge pohas rocked the street as people threw them into the subway! At the end of the night you couldn't see across the square for the smoke and haze. Amazing.
We scuttled away around 12:30, skirting the buildings. I'm pleased we went out to watch, as I'm sure it will be a long time before I see such a pretty backdrop to a firework display (well, display isn't really the right word, because that implies some sort of organized show!).
The day of the 1st of January dawned. We packed up, ready to collect our luggage later on. We went off for a walk, and we hoped we could buy a robe from the Hilton to replace one that was stolen from der Bus. We also got a close look at the multi-story apartment block going up over the carpark where we stayed in der Bus. Unfortunately the Hilton staff couldn't get us a robe because it was a holiday (??), so we wandered back to Hotel Arosa. Grant was keen to get to the airport early, so we packed the car and drove there.
When we dropped off the car, and tried to check in, we were told our flight did not exist - the flight we were booked on only flew in summer! But because we were so early (thanks to Grant), we got on an earlier flight. So, instead of a long wait at the airport, we rushed through customs and onto our flight!
