Advertisement
Gasthaus Schmid
Cassie and I were in the room on the second floor on the right. We had a nice little balcony to look out on the bustling streets of Detzem.I wanted to get up early today because of our drive to Belgium. It wasn’t very difficult. Over the course of the night I had almost frozen to death. At one point in the night I went over to feel the radiator and it was stone cold. I had cranked it up all the way but the system must shut off at night. By wearing my sweatpants and sweatshirt and huddling under the thick comforter I survived. When I got out of bed I found Cassie sleeping on the sofa bed in our outer room. She fell asleep watching MTV. She told me she went out there to stay warm but I suspect my snoring drove her out of the room. I assumed the reason it had felt so cold was because of the blizzard we had during the night. I was sure we would look out on a frozen Winter Wonderland when I opened the drapes. Outside there was no snow. It had all melted because of the persistent rain pouring down. It turned out to be the warmest day of the entire vacation.
My shower was wonderful. I got plenty of hot water and felt much better when
German Walmart
As usual it was snowing/raining as we left for the day's sightseeing. First stop was a return to our favorite Walmart. I finished. Cassie must’ve enjoyed it too because she was in there at least twenty minutes.
Everyone met in our room before heading down to breakfast. We were heading into unfamiliar territory once again. I always feel a little weird going into someone’s home and eating up their breakfast food. I’m always concerned it won’t be good or enough, but so far every place had been fine. Weingut Schmitz’s breakfast room was downstairs. Walking in I was reminded of being at somebody’s Grandma’s dining room. The décor was subdued but orderly and clean. There was a huge old wooden hutch behind an immense dining room table with seats for eight and room for twelve. The table was set as if company were coming for Thanksgiving dinner. Lots of plates, saucers and silverware. On the table were two large wicker baskets with bread and rolls. A plate had jellies, honey and butter. Frau Schmitz came in, bid us “Guten Morgen”, then asked whether we wanted coffee. I asked “Haben Sie Heisse Schokolade?” When she said she did, I replied “Schokolade sechs mal bitte”. I’m not sure if that was even close to proper German but Frau Schmitz got the gist
and soon returned with two big pots of hot chocolate. Foolishly I wasted valuable tummy space by grabbing a roll then adding butter and blueberry jelly. I should’ve known by now how things worked. Just as I was taking the first bite, Frau Schmitz returned to the room carrying two plates with meats and cheese. A few minutes after that, she came back with a basket of soft-boiled eggs. This was followed by her bringing in a pitcher of orange juice. All of us chowed-down and we ate almost everything she brought us. We felt especially bad about dripping hot chocolate on Frau Schmitz linen tablecloth, but it couldn’t be helped.
Immediately after breakfast we headed for the van. Today was my birthday so I was allowed to choose where we would go that day. I had seen a number of travelogues on TV exalting the virtues of Belgian beer and Belgian fries. I had only recently started to enjoy some of the Belgian beers available in the States and as good as they taste on tap here, I was sure they’d taste even better in their homeland. When I had seen Rick Steves wandering around Belgium eating French
Bastogne
This was pretty much the extent of what we could find regarding the famous World War II Battle of the Bulge. There are supposedly other battle-related sites but we couldn't find them. Fries he had gone into establishments that offered scores of different condiments to top off the fries. Recently the History Channel had been broadcasting a number of shows documenting the Battle of the Bulge during World War II. The city of Bastogne which was at the center of the battle was less than 2 hours from where we were.
Gail asked if we might stop at Walmart again on the way. She wanted to get me a birthday cake. That sounded good to me. Up until now Cassie had been riding in the front passenger seat. So far she hadn’t been of any help to me at all. She either listened to her Ipod or slept the whole time. Gail grabbed shotgun position this morning. I showed her how to program the GPS to get us to Walmart. On the way there just when we got to the ramp leading to the Autobahn, the GPS once again said we were of course and couldn’t give us any directions until we got on the main road. That one tiny stretch of road seems to be in the Twilight Zone as far as global positioning goes.
At Walmart Gail bought
Beautiful Downtown Bastogne
We were just heading for the door at the Visitor Center when a split second after I took this shot a big sheet of ice slid off the roof on to Gail's head. a couple of Christmas ornaments from the clearance section. She also got a 3€ bottle of Goldcupp Riesling wine for our anticipated New Year’s celebration. Apparently the Germans don’t make birthday cakes like the ones we have at home so I chose a Black Forest cake instead. I wasn’t about to ask them to write “Happy Birthday” on it. I’m not sure why, but I bought a bottle of garlic sauce to bring home. Maybe I’ll try it on homemade French Fries some night.
Depending on the GPS for all our directions now, I was no longer even looking at the big road atlas I had brought along. Helga was becoming my best friend. She took us on the A1 West which became the E44 when we entered Luxembourg. Our gas situation was getting desperate but I had planned to stop in Luxembourg all along. We got off at the village of Wasserbillig (German for “cheap water”). Once again Helga scolded me for deviating from her route. The road leading into Wasserbillig looked like a typical Texas or California street. There was nothing but gas stations and fast food places along the wide street. There were five huge gas
Tank You
At least the Belgians acknowledge that we helped them out a wee bit back in the day. I'm not too sure you see many monuments to America in France or Russia even though we helped bail their butts out in World War II. stations in a one block area. I pulled into the Shell station since their diesel was a whole penny cheaper than the others. I pumped 62.70 liters for a total of 53€. Diesel fuel in Luxembourg was more than .20 a liter cheaper than the best price I saw in Germany. Similar savings applied to regular gas too. To prevent people from driving off without paying, a parking gate comes down in front of your car blocking you until you pay. I made Gail come into the gas station to pay. On a previous trip when Gail wasn’t with me I was amazed by all the wacky stuff the Luxembourgian gas stations sold. While we strolled around the store there was a non-stop influx of customers buying cartons of cigarettes. A few walked out with three or more. I noticed hard liquor prices were fairly reasonable and most of the booze was American or English made. Gail bought some Toblerone and I got a bag of marshmallow balls similar to Hostess Snoballs but smaller. I was hoping to find something unique to bring home but once again no luck. There doesn’t seem to be a big demand for souvenirs in
General McAuliffe
The American general in charge in the town of Bastogne was surrounded by German troops. When asked to surrender his one word reply was "nuts". An interpreter told the puzzled Germans that it meant "Go to Hell". McAuliffe went down in history for the clever riposte, but he wasn't exactly original. A German knight said basically the same thing when he told his engulfing enemies that instead of surrendering they could kiss his a$$! Wasserbillig, Luxembourg.
Our route to Bastogne took us on perhaps the most boring highway I’ve ever driven on. And I’ve driven across the U.S. twice. There was absolutely nothing of note during two hours of driving. The only thing that aroused even the slightest interest in my passengers were the overhead crossings we drove under in Luxembourg. These weren’t bridges for vehicular traffic but for wildlife to get safely across the Autobahn. Instead of being paved, the bridges had grass and shrubs growing on them. It seems like an idea we should adopt in Pennsylvania just so we can stop squishing so many deer and skunks. A few years back when we first saw the giant wind turbines in Northern Germany, we were enthralled by their size. We slowed every time we saw them. This time around nobody even paid them a second glance.
The trip took less than two hours. The weather was not looking conducive to sightseeing. The sky was overcast and an intermittent misty rain showed-up just often enough to have to continually turn the wipers on and off. Bastogne was certainly not what I would consider a “charming” locale. Most of the buildings were
grey and bleak, but perhaps the weather which was grey and bleak may not have provided the best lighting. There seemed to be more utilitarian modern-type buildings than you usually see in Europe. Almost as soon as we reached the part of town where a few older looking buildings could be found, we saw a large municipal parking lot. Since Helga was calling this our destination, it seemd like a good place to park.
For the first time on the trip we had to face rain instead of snow. It wasn’t exactly warm but temperatures in the mid- to upper-thirties seemed tropical to us. We headed over to the big round visitor center that sat prominently in the middle of the lot. Just as Gail got to the building a big hunk of ice slid off the two story building and whacked her in the head. Fortunately she had the hood on her coat up because of the rain. It probably saved her from getting knocked-out and/or cut. She was a bit woozy afterward but she bounced back after sitting down to collect her senses. Meanwhile we tried to go into the visitor center, but a hand-made sign said
French bread and French fries in Belgium
Maxim's was definitely the hot spot in Bastogne. There was an endless flow of customers (mostly take-out) ordering huge sandwiches and fries. Look at the size of the bin for Pommes Frites. they were closed for lunch.
Since one of the goals of this excursion was to try some Belgian fries and beer, I started looking for a place for lunch. On the other side of the parking lot I could see five or six multi-colored awnings advertising beer and food. We crossed the street to eat at Maxim’s. No, not the famous Parisian restaurant. This was is Maxim’s of Bastogne. When I looked in the window of the establishment I saw an eight foot long stainless steel hopper full of golden brown fries. When we walked in I knew this was where I wanted to eat when I saw a list of maybe twenty different dipping sauces you could order. The choices ran the gamut from ketchup to mayonnaise to ranch dressing to tartar sauce to curry sauce to cocktail sauce to melted cheese. We found a vacant table on the second floor. While most of the diners around us ordered salads or big sandwiches, we all agreed to share three large orders of fries accompanied by side orders of sauces. We requested melted cheese, mayonnaise, ketchup and Bichy (sort of like Thousand Island dressing). Everyone ordered sodas except me.
They didn’t have anything on tap, so I chose a Simon beer because the menu mentioned something about it being made by Trappists.
We got our drinks first. When I first savored my Simon I was rather disappointed. It seemed a bit bitter with a funky aftertaste. But once the fries arrived and I smeared some cheese all over a handful that I swallowed, the beer suddenly tasted delicious. If I were writing for Gourmet Magazine I would have to call it “An amusing little offering with hints of grass and oak. Full-bodied. Great accompaniment to Belgian Fries and cheese. Plays well with others. Not a sipping beer”.
The fries were pretty good but not out of this world. Belgian fries are supposedly so great because they are fried twice in lard, not vegetable or peanut oil. I like my fries crispy and as I mentioned before, the Germans do fries just the way I like. To be honest, I’d pick McDonald’s fries over the Belgian ones we had. The sauces were very good. Mayonnaise really does go well with fries. The consensus among us was that the cheese was the tastiest.
Our table on the second
Pont Adolphe
The Pont Adolphe which bridges the main parts of Luxembourg City is an impressive piece of architecture. It was completed in 1903 and was undamaged during WWII.
floor afforded us a great view of the food preparation counter on the floor below. We spent a good half hour watching the chefs creating tasty-looking sandwiches on two foot long French bread loafs. They were incredibly fast and deft. I couldn’t believe they weren’t missing fingers with the way they sliced through the bread. The sandwiches must be dynamite because locals kept running in and ordering them to go.
After lunch we went back to the now open visitor center. We strolled around inside hoping to find information about the World War II battle. There were racks upon racks of tourism info. There was great information about art museums, hotels, camping sites and historic homes throughout Belgium, but only one French pamphlet about the Battle of the Bulge. Even that didn’t have a map or guide to the sites. It seemed to be a brochure for a company that does guided tours. I simply wanted to see some old tanks or bombed-out buildings. There was a tiny museum in town, but it didn’t seem promising. I decided to come back sometime in the Summer and take an English-speaking tour, hopefully with some actual WWII veterans. We decided to
pack up and head to Luxembourg.
We took a little tour around the periphery of the parking lot. Gail and Grandma spent some time looking for postcards while the rest of us checked-out a bakery and a magazine store. There wasn’t really much else to see. The few citizens we spoke with weren’t exactly friendly folks either. Belgium wasn’t a particular favorite for any of us. It reminds me of New Jersey - not awful, just not very interesting.
The ride to Luxembourg city took about an hour. The rain still came at us sporadically, but when we approached the city outskirts the precipitation stopped. It was easy to find a parking spot in this normally very busy banking capital. With it being a Saturday as well as New Year’s Eve there wasn’t too much to do. Most of the stores and museums had already closed. We crossed the Pont Adolphe and posed for pictures with the walls and fortifications of the town as background. We found an open souvenir store where, you guessed it, we got some postcards. I thought about buying some Luxembourger wine, but decided that if I were going to bring wine back home
with me on the plane, I would be wiser to get it along the Mosel or Rhine. With it getting colder and colder what had been a light mist of rain in the air was now becoming the first hint of snow flurries.
We set up the GPS to direct us to Trier, back in Germany. Being a rather large city I assumed it would be a good place to find my birthday dinner. We would eat then stroll among the old Roman ruins. Helga took us to the outskirts of Luxembourg, but near the airport we came to an octopus of a traffic circle. With at least six roads converging at this central point Helga seemed to get totally confused. She told me to take the next right, which I did, but as soon as I headed away from the circle she told me to turn around. I then went back into the traffic circle. She sent me up four different roads and each one ended-up being the wrong one. I finally turned off the GPS. One of the road signs read “American Military Cemetery”. I decided to see what that might be. I figured whatever it might
Strolling through Luxembourg City
We took a short walk through the shopping district. There were a lot of people running around even though most places had already closed for the weekend.
be I could at least stop and look at a map once I got there.
I chose one of the octopus’ tentacles that I hadn’t explored before and in a short time found the entrance to the cemetery. Even though it was a bleak Winter’s day with all the leaves long gone from the trees and the ground covered with snow, it was easy to see that this was a beautifully maintained park. We were the only car in the parking lot, but the gates to the cemetery were open. Inside we found a welcoming American flag. Below it was a plaque explaining that the remains of over 5000 U.S. servicemen killed during World War II were interred there. Most had died at the Battle of the Bulge. Walking farther inside we came upon two stone towers with the names of the dead inscribed on one side and maps of the battles and U.S. troop movements during the War. Beyond these lay a huge field full of white grave markers either shaped like crosses or Stars of David. The pattern made by the perfect alignment of the gravestones was both touching and eerie. It was as if the markers
The best of America in Luxembourg
We spotted a Chi Chi's and Pizza Hut a few steps from the McDonald's in the financial section of Luxembourg City. I guess those bankers prefer American fast food. were standing in perfect parade order for the past 60 years. And laying at rest at the head of the entire unit stood the grave of General George S. Patton, their commander. He died in a car accident a few months after the War ended. We walked between the grave markers reading the names of some of the deceased. It was amazing how many came from our home state of Pennsylvania. We later learned that Pennsylvania had the most soldiers buried at this cemetery.
Walking through the graveyard we saw that almost all the Jewish soldiers’ graves had tiny white pebbles on top of the Stars of David. Tyler and Gen reminded that they had done the same thing in Schindler’s List. This is an old custom dating back to the Old Testament. It shows those that visit the gravesite that others have also been here to commemorate the departed. Holding the stones in one’s hand is a symbol of the values, teachings, love and life the deceased gave to the visitor. Holding it in your hands gives you a tangible reminder of those things being with you as you stand before them. Putting the pebbles on the grave
Entrance to the Luxembourg American Cemetery
Many Americans killed in the fighting around Bastogne were buried here. reminds you that you can no longer physically be with that person. All that remains is the impression of the stones in your palms just as the impressions that person gave you will forever remain with you.
I could have spent at least a half hour dissecting and analyzing the huge maps found on the stone towers at the entrance to the memorial. So many of the places we had been on this trip were on the map. American and British troops had gone through Strasbourg, by Trier, to Bastogne, then curled East over the Rhine. Elements of the American army secured Southern Germany by moving on to Rothenburg, Munich, Berchtesgaden and then to Salzburg. It was mostly in this Southern half of Germany that American forces served after WWII and during the Cold War.
I had not packed boots on this trip because of the space they would waste in my suitcase. Instead I wore sneakers. Up until this time they had been just perfect. My feet got a bit cold on the sleigh ride but I think they would’ve gone numb even with boots on. On the icy streets of Berchtesgaden and Salzburg my sneakers’ tread
actually worked better than my boots would have. However, walking through the slushy snow at the American Military Cemetery my feet started to get very wet and cold. We made a brief stop in the caretaker’s office. Inside it was toasty and dry. There was some information about the cemetery’s history and a brief display about two of the Medal of Honor winners buried here. Instead of glorifying the exploits of those that died everything was rather low-key. The memorial served to honor all that died because all were heroes. The fact that all the graves were the same color, shape and size indicated that this was the resting place of equals. In so doing, instead of glorifying war this site illustrated the sheer enormity of the death and destruction. Seeing lines upon lines of gravestones can’t possibly affect you. The most touching thing I carry away from that day was seeing how many men under the age of 21 died during those few months.
It was getting dark as we left the cemetery. I saw a sign for a cemetery for German soldiers but by the time we found it, it was too dark to look around. Even
though we still had more than a half tank of gas, I decided to top it off in Wasserbillig once again. At those prices I considered filling a jerry can to save for later. On the way to Wasserbillig that stupid orange idiot light came on again. I needed more washer solvent. The two windshield washers on our Toyotas at home shoot out a tri-jet stream that hits all corners of the wipers path. With this stupid VW only a single stream comes out. You have to squirt a couple times to reach the entire path of the wipers. Wow! Something the Germans didn’t quite do right. At the gas station I put in 20€ of diesel then filled the old washer solvent bottle with tap water and added it to the van’s reservoir. About this time I started to get a nasty headache. I think the combination of extreme temperatures in and out of the van, the stress of all the driving and the depression of knowing we’d be going home soon brought it on.
I was still upset with Helga so I found my way to Trier on my own. Like Luxembourg City and Bastogne, the place
Chapel of Valor
This is the Chapel of Valor at the center of the memorial. The engraved statue is the Angel of Peace made from Swedish Orchid Red granite. Above the statue is the dove of peace. The panels on the door symbolize the 8 virtues of a good soldier: Valor, Fitness, Fidelity, Sacrifice, Proficiency, Family Ties, Fortitude and Faith.
Since it was closed we couldn't see the beautiful blue marble altar and mosaics inside. All the stone, mostly marble, inside was hewn in countries liberated by the Americans.
looked dead. We found a free parking space near the Porta Nigra at the beginning of the pedestrian only zone. Downtown Trier is beautifully lit, even when the Christmas decorations aren’t up. Many of the buildings are made of red or yellow brick. The yellow halogen lights trained on these buildings and the Roman monuments are so pretty at night. Trying to capture them on camera proved impossible for us. You need a long shutter exposure to get a good shot. All of our pictures came out too blurry. I wish I had brought a tripod. Add that to the “next time list”.
We ambled down the rather deserted Simeonstrasse toward the Hauptmarkt. As usual the stores were gorgeously decorated in Holiday colors but closed. Every restaurant we looked at was closed also. When we got to the Hauptmarkt which is a wide square in the middle of the old town, we saw television crews disassembling their equipment and other workers removing banners indicating “Ziel”. We had arrived at the finish line for the Trier Marathon. Unfortunately the race had ended a couple hours before. Only a few of the really slow and thoroughly exhausted runners were still in
the area. There didn’t seem to be any folks walking around downtown looking for dinner. We walked up toward the Trier Dom. No sooner did we walk into the magnificent Catholic cathedral than we were being chased out because a church service was about to start. My headache was beginning to get pretty annoying at this point. We walked further up to Konstantin Basilika which dates back to Roman times. Now the Protestants were having their church service in this church. Not being able to go in here either we turned around and headed back to our car.
I was starting to feel pretty awful at this point. I would’ve let Gail drive but being as cheap as I am I had not been willing to pay an extra 7€ a day for her name to be added to our Alamo contract as the second driver. I headed back toward our place in Detzem. Once again we stopped at Walmart as we passed by. Since it was still busy while every other place around was closed we had hopes of finding their restaurant on the second floor open for dinner. No luck. While I wasn’t looking, Gail bought me
Cargo plane leaving LUX
We were right next to the increasingly busy Luxembourg International airport. Planes were constantly taking off and landing thus disrupting the quiet and solitude of the cemetery.
There are two pylons like that on the left. The names of 371 soldiers declared missing in action are inscribed. On another side of each pylon there are maps depicting the Allies thrust into Germany and the campaigns in the Ardennes and Rhineland including the Battle of the Bulge.
a birthday card and wrapping paper for my gifts I had bought myself on this trip. By now I was pretty Wal-Marted out. I just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep off the headache.
When we got back to Detzem I went straight to bed. I didn’t even think about dinner. Looking back I realize how rude I was being to everyone else but I really wasn’t thinking too straight. Cassie and Gail wouldn’t let me rest however. They kept bugging me to get up - I was on vacation dammit! Eventually everyone came down to our room and I was convinced (coerced) to lay on the sofa bed while everyone watched TV and celebrated my birthday. Gail brought out my cake, some candies, and my wrapped presents. I was going to get a birthday party whether I wanted one or not. We poured out the wine and some Diet Coke. Cassie gave me a handmade card that documented our trip thus far. It was decorated with caricatures of our group. Everyone sat around in their pajamas while we ate our high sugar dinner and watched TV in a language we didn’t understand. What a party! Once I
Next time I bring a mini-tripod
My camera took great outdoor pictures but Tyler and I had a tough time with inside and night shots. Gail's were usually better but she didn't bring her camera as we strolled past the Porta Nigra in Trier. ate a little and had some soda I started feeling much better.
While we lounged around I read a brochure for Weingut Schmitz. The room Cassie and I shared was normally a vacation apartment during the Summer months. Although we were paying 20€ per person per night, the room normally rented at 45€ per night. Since you could comfortably get a family of four or more in there, we could really save some bucks by staying here some time in the future. The brochure also stated that arrangements could be made to have Frau Schmitz prepare dinner. Too bad we didn’t know that before 8:00 pm on New Year’s Eve. By now she was probably down at the Bürgerhaus enjoying the buffet. The pamphlet had a list of the wines made by the Schmitz that were available for purchase. Most were priced under 4€. Some day when I feel like taking a truly leisurely vacation this seems like an incredible affordable place to stay. It would be pretty cool sitting out on the balcony drinking the House-made wines.
As is our tradition, we went to bed before midnight. Call me a bore but I have totally outgrown the
whole New Year’s Eve thing. With Sunday being our last full day in Germany we wanted to get plenty of rest for the final day. Cassie stayed in the living room to watch TV while I crawled under the duvet in the freezing cold bedroom. I slept well until some of the drunks began to exit the Bürgerhaus after midnight. I heard all manner of fireworks, yelling, things breaking and doors slamming. It must’ve alarmed Cassie because she climbed into the other bed after the ruckus started. I was back asleep within minutes.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.08s; Tpl: 0.025s; cc: 15; qc: 29; dbt: 0.0367s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb
