Marburg: Take Two

The main thing I’ve learned about the town of Marburg is that it goes up, and up, and up. But a hike to the top is worth the effort. Most of the town, called the Unterstadt (Lower Town) lies on either side of the River Lahn where it is fairly flat, but the oldest and most picturesque parts of the town are on the side of a hill and called the Oberstadt (Upper Town). You go up a little and there is the Marktplatz (Market Place) with lots of fun shops, and then up some more winding lanes and steps to the Pfarrkirche (a Gothic turned Lutheran Church) and then to the very top where the Landgrafenschloss (Landgraves Castle) is perched. There are great rooftop views all along the way. Here are are a few we encountered.

The River Lahn that runs through the low valley area of Marburg.

View of Marburg from the Oberstadt. Directly behind us on top of the hill is the Kaiser Wilherlm Tower, which we plan to hike up to later this week.

Farmer’s Market in the old Marktplatz on a Saturday morning.

Everything looks very yummy, but a little too pricy for our pockets.

A view from the courtyard in front of the Pfarrkirche.

One of many drinking fountains in the old part of the city. Believe me, you’ll want a sip or two--in spite of the green stuff--when you’re climbing the steep streets here!

Up, and up and up we go on the winding, cobblestone streets. Argh!! My calves are killing me by this point.

Almost there--just another hundred steps to climb….

We finaly made it!

Wandering the gardens of the castle…

…put Penelope to sleep.

Quaint cottage in the woods…perhaps the home of the Seven Dwarfs?

The Awful[ly Difficult] German Language

Here is a hilarious essay for you to read on the difficulties an English speaker faces in trying to learn German: "The Awful German Language" by Mark Twain.


http://www9.georgetown.edu/faculty/jod/texts/twain.german.html


"I heard lately of a worn and sorely tried American student who used to fly to a certain German word for relief when he could bear up under his aggravations no longer--the only word whose sound was sweet and precious to his ear and healing to his lacerated spirit. This was the word DAMIT. It was only the SOUND that helped him, not the meaning; and so, at last, when he learned that the emphasis was not on the first syllable, his only stay and support was gone, and he faded away and died."


Let's hope this doesn't happen to me.

New Tricks

BIG P, little p,

what begins with P?

Periwinkles, petunias

and a PENELOPE!

First Views of Marburg: Home away from Home

View from the center of the market place (Marktplatz). Marburg is known for its restored timber-framed homes, most of which are housing for students at the university. They all lean slightly in different directions. One woman we encountered told us she lived in one while in school here and had to put rocks at the bottom of her furniture to keep it close to level.


Shopping with Penelope in the Oberstadt (Uptown) area of Marburg. The steep, narrow streets make for a good workout!

First German Meal

While Grandma was visiting we took the advice of an American student we encountered on the bus and had lunch at Paprica in the Altstadt (old city) part of Marburg. Here we are midway through the meal. Notice the lack of ice in the drinks and the large portions of food. I look pathetic as the waitress who snapped the photo didn’t warn me before she took the picture and then quickly moved on to the next table. The photo also doesn’t quite portray the steep slant of our table and chairs. This part of Marburg is on a hill, which is why I was carrying Penelope in a wrap instead of attempting the stroller on the steep, cobblestone roads—we made that mistake the first day.

Auflauf: a cross between macaroni and cheese and an oven-baked casserole, with a variety of vegetable and meat combinations to choose from

Conclusion: Delicious!

Dormitory Life

We live in a dorm. A German dorm. A German dorm from the 1960’s. This is temporary until we move to Heidelberg, but 6 weeks of dormitory life is 6 weeks too long in my opinion. I’ve already done the college thing! But I have decided to take a Pollyanna outlook on life and only focus on the good things in our temporary home:

1. Penelope has her own room and her own bed! (Just don’t dwell on the fact that the crib isn’t up to safety standards and the paint has been gnawed off in places by the countless other babies who have slept in it.)
2. The father and I have our own beds! (One twin bed for him and one twin bed for me--complimented by rock-hard mattresses.)
3. There is a furnished kitchen! (That only contains a sink, a dorm-size fridge and a stove with two burners. I guess I’ll be doing some creative cooking with no oven or microwave and one pot and pan.)
4. There are lots of desks! (One is now a changing table, one is our kitchen table--located not in the tiny kitchen but rather next to our bed--and one remains a desk.)
5. There are large windows! (Which are necessary to keep open because there is no air conditioning, and when they are open they conveniently let in all the street noises below—and the occasional drunk university student ranting in German at 1:30 am.)
6. There are lots of things to do and see in Marburg! (Which come in handy because I think I would go crazy hanging around this lovely dorm room all day!!!)

But Penelope doesn't mind!

Deutchland!

Yes, we all made it—even our luggage! The plane ride was short and easy, but the fun began when the grandma and I had to navigate the Frankfurt airport without a word of German. It’s too bad I don’t have a picture to document this. Just imagine two confused-looking women, one pulling several suitcases while the other follows behind pushing a large stroller piled high with a car seat and carry-ons (a bit like the Leaning Tower of Pisa) and an infant strapped to her chest. The relief we felt at the sight of the (mostly) German-speaking father!

Then the race against time was on. We had to rush to catch a series of trains from Frankfurt to Marburg in order to get the last bus from the Marburg train station to our apartment. (Yeah, it was as confusing as it sounds!) When the train arrived in Marburg a few minutes late, we thought we were in for a long walk across town in the dark. Luckily, just as we were rounding the corner, we spotted the bus. The father made a run for it, and the rest of us trailed behind with the luggage.

Thank goodness for benevolent bus drivers! He stopped and opened the doors for us. We all ran to the front door of the bus, and the father got on and bought tickets. Grandma made it safely up into the bus with the suitcases she was carrying, but I was not so fortunate. The wheels of the stroller were too wide to fit inside. Several people on the bus started saying things in German to me and motioning towards the back of the bus. I correctly interpreted it as, “You stupid American, the entrance for strollers is at the back where the wider doors are!” So I went.

Now, I have bragged how I have become adept at going up and down stairs in the London underground, but that was when I had someone to help me, and there wasn’t a tower of baggage on top of the stroller to balance. This time it was me, alone, no language to communicate, a baby strapped on me and a stroller as tall as me. I stood in the doors for a minute, trying to tug at the stroller on the pavement, willing it to come up onto the bus but knowing full well it was hopeless. I looked around for the father to help, but he was stuck behind people on the other end of the crowded bus. Then, from nowhere, a man got off and lifted my load onto the bus. Before I had chance to thank him, a woman stood up and motioned for me to sit in her seat. Never had I been so thankful for a stranger’s help!

So we made it safe and sound to our new home in Germany. When the father flipped on the lights there were a few surprises, but I’ll leave that story for tomorrow…

Welcome to Marburg!

Round and Round the Roundabout

This was my last day in London before departing for Germany. To end my stay the grandparents, little one and I went on a car trip to RHS Wisley Gardens. They are beautiful and expansive gardens maintained by the Royal Horticultural Society and located just outside of London.

What we estimated to be a short, twenty-minute drive ended up taking a couple of hours. First we ended up going in the wrong direction (apparently there is another place by a similar name that grandpa searched for on Google Maps). By the time we figured out we were going the wrong direction, the little one awoke from her car-induced slumber and demanded food. The only place we could find to feed her (and feed ourselves since it was past lunchtime) was a coffee shop in the British version of an outlet mall. After that pit-stop, the next hour consisted of grandma flipping through several torn-out pages of a beat-up England atlas while grandpa shouted out road names for her to locate and direct him to. I, meanwhile, was hanging on for dear life. (I don't enjoy riding in a car on the wrong side of the street as it is.) Penelope just slept. At one point, we were literally going around and around a large roundabout while trying to decide which road to take--our own version of an amusement park ride.

Finally, we made it to Wisley Gardens. Thank goodness they did not disappoint!

Rock Garden

Penelope sniffs and picks (oops!) a Dahlia.

100 year old Bonsai tree



Grandpa shows Penelope the fish and ducks in the pond.

Practicing her new pose.

My favorite flowers

(Don't they look like they're taken right out of a Dr. Seuss book?)

Pubalicious

Penelope and I pausing in front of the King's Head, a pub in Richmond close to the Green.

Five reasons I love English pubs:

1. They're easy to spot. They always have hanging baskets overflowing with gorgeous flowers (well, except in the winter).

2. Free bathrooms. Three things that are scarce in England are trash cans, water fountains and free and accesible bathrooms. I can't say pub bathrooms are clean, but at least they are there when I need one--and I have a very small bladder.

3. They're smoke-free. Smoking is no longer allowed inside pubs which makes for a much more pleasant eating and drinking experience. Now the smokers just congregate outside the door.

4. Fish and chips. I wouldn't recommend eating anything else in a pub though.

5. Beer tastes better in a pub. Trust me.

Penelope agrees.

Bis Bald

Google translator says that is German for "See you soon!" but correct me if I'm wrong. This morning we saw the father off to Germany. We'll meet him in Marburg on Saturday, but until then we'll stay and play in the English-speaking world a few more days.

Sights of the City

Yesterday was the father's last day with his Penelope and me until we join him in Marburg next week. So we went with the Grandparents to take in some sights in central London. Luckily, it happened to be one of the sunniest and warmest (by London standards anyways) days this summer.

Here we (Grandpa, Penelope and I) are at the Richmond train station ready to depart. Be prepared to see lots of pictures with me pushing this blue stroller and using public transportation. No more cars for awhile.

Unfortunately this is the only photographic evidence of the father's trip to the city. But that's what happens when you refuse to trust anyone else with your camera.

St. Paul's Cathedral. On our first trip to London we hiked all the way up to the top, but that was pre-baby when everything was a great deal easier.

Yes, Penelope is there too, but she won't remember this trip or any of the future tramps we will take this year. She will only have this photographic record and our stories. Poor child.

The south bank of the Thames was crawling with tourists. A few times I had to threaten to use the stroller as a weapon in order to break through the crowds. And very wisely positioned throughout the pedestrian path were various street preformers. There were artists painting murals on the ground, a man doing card tricks, people painted head-to-toe in silver or gold and standing like statues, and even a Michael Jackson impersonater. The one that drew the biggest crowd, and the most talented in my opinion, was the person below. He balanced this glass ball and made it roll on his body to the beat of techno music. I know, it sounds silly, but it was actually pretty cool to watch.

And then there was the gorilla...

All this guy did was throw on a gorilla costume and sit on this bench facing the river. Not much to it if you ask me. And to make it worse, he kept taking his gorilla hat off, scratching his face, and putting it back on. Who knew all you had to do to make some money was to sit on a bench in a costume?

Penelope and I tried to make some money by twirling around and smiling big, but all we got was a candy wrapper and a half-eaten hot dog.

Carnivalesque Cathedral: Ode to St. Albans

St. Albans, a town that dates back to Roman times, is a little ways northwest of London.

Here is Penelope next to St. Alban's Cathedral. Just a typical cathedral. A typical cathedral with big cathedral walls, pretty cathedral stained glass windows--just like all those other cathedrals we've already toured in Europe.

Upon entering St. Alban's Cathedral the strong of aroma of incense fills your nose, and a holy light from the heavens streams in the windows. Doesn't that make you want to burst into a "Hallelujah" chorus?

And then as my eyes adjust to the dim light and start to scan the huge space before me, something brightly colored catches my attention.

A very and bright and lively nave screen. A Carnival celebration of saints--or St. Alban's version of saints!

Apparently the original nave statues were removed (read "stolen") by Henry VIII, and the children of the parish in conjunction with carnival artists made these replacements. St. Albans is in the middle with the flag. Can you guess the identities of the others? (Scroll down for the answers.) Here's a cool BBC piece about them:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/threecounties/content/articles/2006/12/22/divine_art_stalbans_screen_feature.shtml

Penelope enjoyed her visit to St. Albans.



Here are the answers:

Numbers 5-11 are in the picture. #5 Ianani Luwum, #6 Martin Luther King, Jr., #7 Elizabeth of Russia, #8 St. Alban, #9 Amphibalus, #10 Manche Masemola, #11 Oscar Romero. In the second picture is #12 Sundar Singh and #13 Dietrich Bonhoeffer.

Would you like a spot of tea?

Grandma took the little one and me out to tea this afternoon at Maids of Honour tea room--about a 30 minute walk from their flat. This has been a favourite past time of mine since our visits to London began a few years ago. For some reason I never feel guilty about adding heaps of cream and sugar to my tea or smothering a scone with clotted cream when enjoying a proper English tea. And, of course, Penelope remembered her manners and behaved perfectly.

Here are some other highlights from the past week in London...

Tea and a side of Hemingway with Father at Pembroke Lodge in Richmond Park. She's progressed quite quickly from board books.

Strolling the streets of London. I am beginning to acquire a whole new set of skills--how to manuever a stroller up and down flights of stairs and escalators in order to ride public transportation. I feel very sorry for those of you in wheelchairs.

Penelope hamming it up for the camera in St. James's Park.

Princess P visits Buckingham Palace.

There's nothing better than a stroll along the Thames in Richmond,
especially when it involves ice cream with the grandparents!

(All you London weather skeptics, please take note of the brilliant bright sky)

A picnic at dusk by the Richmond Bridge with the little one.

By the way, a picnic blanket with a waterproof bottom is an excellent investment.

When Penelope Was An Embryo (and probably became a fetus)

We are now in London (en route to Germany of course) and being in London again has reminded us at every turn of last summer when we were here and first learned that the little one was newly alive. So in celebration of these memories let's recall a few pics from the glorious England summer of 2008.

peering over the Dover Cliffs

picnic on the Thames

imitating art by Buckingham Palace

the chocolate cravings begin...

guarding the gate to Windsor Castle

wandering through Hampton Court's mazes