Linz - Awakening Memories

Prepare for boarding!

By stealth, humour, and simply changing the subject, I had managed to avoid discussing Donald
Trump, but as we sailed down the Danube one sunny afternoon on our way to Linz, Austria, my luck ran out. We were sat with a couple from Minnesota when the guy opened with: “I hadn’t realized that Hitler was initially elected to power with less than a majority.” It was a prescient comment; Hitler had grown up in Linz. The comparisons continued: exploiting nationalism with ‘we’ll be great again’; demonizing minorities, even inciting attacks on them; dismissing science; and discrediting the free press as fake, in order to legitimize his own desired view of reality. We agreed that the legitimate press needed our support and vowed to subscribe to the New York Times, The Washington Post, and The Guardian.

Plague Column & Dom

Not everyone felt this way. One morning, a gentleman from Florida strode towards me as I stood on the top deck with my camera. “I hear those Muslims want their own cemetery now (referring to a Quebec article); I’ve never asked for my own cemetery!”

“Well, maybe you should?” I said. I’d failed his test – the conversation ended there.

Many years after Hitler, Adolf Eichmann, the Architect of the Holocaust, also spent his youth in Linz. I came of age over the course of the Eichmann Trial in 1961 as images and accounts of ghettos, train journeys, and death camps were seared into my brain by the British newspapers for the months that it took – images that are still there. To its credit, Linz became one of the most active cities in eradicating the signs of Nazism from its streets and commemorating those that had opposed it.

2 Men & an Elephant

Late in the afternoon we docked; this was to be our only stop without an organized tour – we were on our own.  We stepped off the boat and walked up to the main square dominated by the Pestsäule (Plague Column) built in 1723 to celebrate being passed over by the disease. Just off a corner of the square is the Alter Dom (Old Cathedral). This Dom was a must-see for me on this voyage: a place where Beethoven composed and Anton Bruckner, perhaps my favourite composer, played the organ for 12 years. Inside, I breathed in the 19^th Century, …and the cool air - it was a break from the >30°C heat outside.

The square features a stucco moulding of two naked men and an elephant, surrounding a window. Apparently, Maximilian II, before he was crowned Holy Roman Emperor, visited Linz in 1552, bringing with him exotic beasts including an Indian elephant. No word on where the two guys came from…

Martinskirche 'Altar'

We decided we just had time to climb to Martinskirche (St Martin’s Church), recognized as the oldest church in Austria. The church sits high above the town and it was hot, with the late afternoon heat that encloses you like a heavy cloak. We trudge onward and upward and, gradually it dawns on me that we’re old and in pain, and that we should be sitting on the boat, sipping a glass of cold beer. But we press on. Originally built by Charlemagne in the 8^th Century this modest house of worship incorporates Roman walls, still visible inside and out. It has been remodelled since and houses 14^th Century frescoes, as well as a lovely stained glass backdrop to the altar. Although it was locked, I was able to point and shoot through a gap in the main door.

As we walked along the path from Martinskirche we discovered the statue of Johannes Kepler, a founder of modern science and a resident of Linz when he published his famous work on planetary motion.  But, it was the 17^th Century, his science was dismissed, the Lutherans excommunicated him, and his mother was tried as a witch, likely as a result of his views. And now, in the 21^st Century, we can only wait for the witch trials to begin again.

The Climb to Martinskirche

Passau - Venice of Bavaria

Rathaus with Wall Paintings

Passau is our last stop in Germany. It sits on the border with Austria at the confluence of three rivers, the Ilz, the Danube and the Inn. The boat moors on the Danube where the three rivers meet, right opposite the entry of the Ilz, the smallest of the three. Roman, our guide, walks us around the headland of the Danube bank and along the bank of the Inn. He points to the distinct colour of each river’s water: the Ilz is dark blue, the Danube a murky green and the Inn almost white; the three waters flowing side-by-side, as they gradually coil into each other. We meander our way up to St Stephen’s Cathedral dominating the town above the river valleys.

St Stephen’s Cathedral (Dom)

Passau suffered a number of fires in the 17^th Century, culminating in the 1662 fire that destroyed much of the city, after which the rebuilding was in the Italian baroque style, hence the Venice nickname. The Cathedral, a masterpiece, is a worthy example and we arrive mid-morning. A service is underway and signs demand no sound, no photos, and no walking around. So, we waited… and watched. The four priests are dressed in garments of white and gold, matching the colours of the Cathedral. Sadly, they almost outnumbered the congregation. The service is over quickly and the signs are swept aside. The church is famous; it has the largest cathedral organ in the world and regularly hosts concerts – even more sadly, I didn’t get to hear it.

We walk out into the midday sun and through the marketplace that sits in the square facing it. We buy some Christmas trinkets and are tempted by the ‘food trucks’ selling pastries and cold meats so delicious they could only have been made in Germany.

A building that pre-dates the fire is the house of the Scharfrichter (literally Sharp Judge) or Executioner. He was responsible for carrying out sentences of death conveyed by the state, using his blade, and disposing of the remains. His accomplice, the Lion (Löwe), would drag the hapless felons to their appointment, roaring as he went. In the 1970’s the building gained new notoriety as a venue for Jazz and political cabaret; local conservative authorities were not amused and shut it down. A decade later, it rose from the ashes even stronger and began awarding the Executioner’s Hatchet for political comedy. Roman says: “The most popular comedians are Austrian – they’re keen observers and sendup German behaviour so well.” Sounds to me like Canadian comedians in the US.

Roman & the Water Scale

Talking of blades, Passau was a famous manufacturer of swords in the Middle Ages, marking them with a wolf. Warriors came to believe that the wolf protected them in battle and made the Passau sword a revered possession. Logos like the wolf became known as ‘Passau art’.

Painted Shutters

Eventually, we come back to the Rathaus (old town hall); the 14^th Century building that sits on a square beside the Danube. Famous for its much newer clock tower, it now sports beautiful modern paintings along its outer wall. On the side of this clock tower we see another reason to call this city Venice. Apparently, flooding to the base of the Rathaus occurs every few years but, in June 2013, the three rivers submerged the lower city. A scale painted on the wall marks the height of the flood, the highest in 500 years.

It’s a University town too, with students making up almost a quarter of the population and recently, another flood has inundated Passau, as migrants from the east travel across Austria to enter Germany here. But, on this warm, dry, summer’s day all we can see and feel is the energy, and friendliness, of youth.

St Stephen’s Cathedral Organ with Ceiling

Medieval Regensburg

We dock for our first stop in the city of Regensburg, right after lunch. The centre of Regensburg is truly medieval – a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Spared the bombing visited upon Nuremberg, it hasn’t been seriously damaged since Napoleon visited. At almost 1,000 years old, its Stone Bridge is one of the oldest surviving crossings over the Danube. It’s our first chance to use our ‘receivers’ or headsets. The cruise has arranged local tour guides at each stop and you get to choose whether you want slow and leisurely, or a high paced tour. Every person on board is issued with a wireless receiver and you pair it with your guide. There are seven guides with number 7 as the slowest: we pick one in the middle.

Wurstküche

So, we take a moderate walk along the riverbank to the bridge. I stand at its centre and look west, trying to imagine the sounds, the smells, and the hopes of the Third Crusade, as the knights pass across this very bridge, off to combat Saladin’s forces in the Holy Land. Despite many gains, Richard the Lionheart’s armies don’t capture Jerusalem, and thus they will fail.

Beside the bridge is the imposing Salt Barn (Salzstadel), a reminder of the importance of this mineral in the middle ages, and of Regensburg’s status. The Salt Barn is now a museum that traces the history of the city from Roman times. Alongside the museum is a building constructed for the workers that built the bridge; job done it became a restaurant, and it has operated continuously ever since, perhaps the oldest restaurant in the world. Most recently (the last 200 years), it has been the Wurstküche or Sausage Kitchen and, as anyone who knows me knows, I love sausages. This place serves 6,000 sausages a day but, I’m reminded that we’ve just had lunch, and there’s a big-line up; worse still, our moderately-paced tour is moving on… …rats!

We walk into the town and facing us is a giant vibrant wall painting; this is David and Goliath, on the wall of the Goliath House (Goliathhaus). The house was built in 1260, with the painting added in 1573, and it’s been a landmark ever since. Just around the corner, our guide stops to point to a house where Oskar Schindler lived after WWII. Penniless, he was offered a room here for a couple of years. In the window, a sign makes a scathing comparison between Schindler and Trump. A young American couple expresses whispered outrage at the attack on their leader, but others just smile. I sense it will be a discussion in the bar tonight.

Silver Altar in the Dom

We finish the formal phase of our tour at the Dom of St Peter’s with its ornate gothic exterior and we turn off our receivers. Controversially, this Catholic Cathedral bears a medieval anti-Semitic carving high on the outside wall called a ‘Jew’s sow’ showing three Jews suckling on a pig, facing the old Jewish district. Apparently, these were common in the middle ages. The interior is resplendent with 13^th Century stained-glass windows and a silver high altar. Carol lights a votive candle for a friend at the shrine, beneath a relief of the Virgin and child.

 

Back on board, it’s time to put our receivers on charge and relax with a cold beer – it’s been another >30°C day and the lager slides down easily. A local Bavarian ‘oompah’ Band arrives to entertain us, and tries to get us on our feet – nice try! Well, at least we didn’t have to wear lederhosen.

Looking West on the Bridge, with Salt Barn to the left

Sailing On The River

We boarded our boat, the Emerald Sky to a buffet lunch. It was an opportunity to meet our fellow travelers before being shown to our cabin on the top deck. The cabins are on three decks, with the upper two boasting balconies; the lower deck is mostly below the waterline. On riverboats, a balcony comprises a window that opens into a small area in your room, with a couple of chairs, but it was lovely to feel the breeze on your face. Down the hall from our room was the lounge and bar where we’d lunched. The Sky accommodates 180 passengers and I reckon the nationality split was 40% Brits, 35% Americans, 25% Canadians, and a couple from New Zealand. And, with this demographic, we also had Mr. Brexit and Trump on board; spectres we tried our best to avoid.

Entering a Lock

We sailed southeast from Nuremberg to Budapest, a journey of 870 km. I hadn’t realized but, since 1992, it’s been possible to sail from Amsterdam to the Black Sea by riverboat. We left Nuremberg, initially along the Main-Danube canal, which flows west to the North Sea, before entering the Danube. It passed through 25 locks on its way to Budapest – many only inches wider than the boat, it seemed – standing on the prow it was hard to believe we’d fit through. We left Nuremberg at 5pm and docked in Regensburg next morning. In that short span, we’d passed through 9 locks climbing 90 meters (>300 ft) to the continental divide, and then dropping 80 meters (260 ft) on the other side, into the Danube, flowing east to the Black Sea.

At the Captain’s Table

After our first full day we were invited to the Captain’s table for dinner – we dressed our best. Breakfast and lunch were self-serve buffets, but waiters served all of the evening meals, ordered from a menu. All 10 of us were served our courses simultaneously – something to see on a small boat. And the cruise was so smooth you wouldn’t have known you were moving.

The Captain walks ahead of a bridge

The ship is a long tube; narrow enough to slide through the locks and, with some tweaking, flat enough to slip under the bridges; and there are a lot of bridges. One afternoon we were laying on the top deck enjoying the sun when the captain announced: “We are going under a low bridge. Everyone must sit down or go below.” The ship’s bridge deck, a box that protrudes from the middle of the top deck, started its descent into the deck. Within minutes, we’d entered a lock and started to pass under a bridge. The captain appeared on deck and slowly walked aft, keeping just inches ahead of the bridge, making sure we stayed down. The bridge passed over us, about 4 ft above the deck. We all looked at each other – in our home countries, the captain would have ordered us all below – we were glad he hadn’t. But, we’d flinched several times, as it seemed the bridge was about to decapitate him!

Our ship - The Emerald Sky

Later, we’d sail down the Wachau Valley, with its castles perched high, churches by the towpath, and sweeping vineyards, as we basked in the >30°C (85°C ) sun on our loungers. Ah, this was the life! The river was flatter in the lower reaches and, for the sportier; you could be put off the boat with a bicycle to ride along the towpath until the next stop, 2 or 3 hours down river. Then, be met by the rest of us, heaping praise, envy, and wonder (at why you would invest in a cruise to pedal instead). Some took the challenge – sadly for them too, it was the only day it rained.

We’d traveled the Nile on a 2014 cruise and one evening we’d put on a show. The crew organized it, but it was the passengers who'd had to dress up, play games, and act silly. On this cruise, the crew put on a show for us. Guys we hadn’t seen came up from the kitchen and sang; the travel director and the maître d’ performed a play; the captain danced with the housekeepers, and then he challenged us to join him – we did. It was a warm and genuine evening.

Riverside Church in the Wachau Valley

Nuremberg and the Third Reich

Most people I know don’t associate Nuremberg with river cruising, and neither did I. When I saw that Nuremberg was the starting point of our cruise, I couldn’t wait to see the site of ‘Judgement at Nuremberg’. Then, after learning of the wartime destruction of 90% of the city, I wondered why the Allies had chosen it. It wasn’t a random choice.

The Cathedral of Light

The Nazi regime, under Adolph Hitler, conceived the ‘Third Reich’ (Empire) when it came to power in January 1933, hoping to evoke the majesty, expanse, and endurance of the Holy Roman Empire.

Hitler considered Nuremberg to be the most German of German cities. The Nazi Party had held rallies in various locales since 1923 but once seizing power, Hitler announced that all future rallies would be held in Nuremberg and commenced a program of building around the Rally Grounds, on an existing large park and Zeppelin field to the southeast of the city. The event grew in size and grandeur with each year, providing the perfect propaganda platform. The stadium commissioned for that first year, 1933, couldn’t be finished in time, so the architect Albert Speer placed anti-aircraft searchlights around the perimeter, pointing straight up. This Cathedral of Light became a signature of the Rallies. Still unfinished, the massive Congress Hall at this site now houses a museum that teaches lessons from the Nazi reign of terror.

Unfinished Congress Hall

Leni Riefenstahl's controversial masterwork, Triumph of the Will, the pinnacle of propaganda was premiered here at the 1934 Rally. At the following year’s Rally, Hitler introduced the notorious Nuremberg Racial Laws, disenfranchising and isolating German Jews, later extended to Roma (Gypsies) and blacks, stripping them of their citizenship and forbidding other Germans from socializing or doing business with them. This formalized the descent into the Holocaust.

At the end of the war little remained of Nuremberg, although the Palace of Justice and its associated substantial prison were still intact. The Allied leadership saw a Trial of Nazi leaders here as a symbolic conclusion to the regime, eventually hosting a series of trials that essentially established international law and the principle of crimes against humanity.

Nuremberg Palace of Justice

The courthouse is still there; I couldn’t believe my luck at having the opportunity to see this ‘holy grail’ of justice. As soon as the heat of the day had subsided on our first evening, I set off. I went alone and dressed in a T-shirt, shorts and sandals (no socks). I figured it would be a short walk… …I was wrong. It grew darker as I walked, and walked; I was about to give up when I saw a sign that said ‘Memorium Nurnberger Prozesse.’ A little further and there it was, set back on a side street. It’s still in daily use as a courthouse and is only open to tourists on the weekend – it was a Tuesday!

The Way of Human Rights

I took a couple of photos in the failing light and headed back to the hotel. But it had started to rain and quickly turned into a thunderstorm. I got soaked to the skin as I struggled to keep my camera dry. ‘Why didn’t you jump in a cab?’ I hear you say. Well, in my eagerness, I’d forgotten my wallet.

Next day, dominating the street beside the Municipal Museum in the old city, we saw the monumental sculpture the Way of Human Rights. This memorial, illustrates the United Nations International Declaration, each clause with its own pillar, the wording etched in the German language and one other; one pillar in French, one in Japanese, and so on.

On a lighter note, I noticed this store across from the Museum. I’d heard that Donald Trump and Theresa May were looking for a trade deal, with the move toward Brexit, but I hadn’t realized it had

gone this far.

But, it was time to go. We took one last view at the River Pegnitz and it was off to meet our cruise boat at the dock on the Danube. Tomas returned and picked us up.

The River Pegnitz flows through the centre of the city