DM and MM's Germany 2007 Diary

Day 14 - Schwangau to Friedrichshafen

Friday, 4 May, 2007

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09:54 Bus stop, Schwangau

We've checked out and we're on our way to Friedrichshafen, foiled at our first step by an odd bus timetable with buses running about every 10 minutes, except for an incredible 58-minute gap from 09:38 to 10:36. Oh well, at least it gives me a chance to catch up on the diary.

Continuing our tour of Hohenschwangau yesterday, we went up to the King's chamber upstairs, which included an amazing bedroom, painted with a pastoral outdoor scene and decorated with stars on the ceiling which were actually glass and could be illuminated by oil lamps from the third floor above, as well as a circular window that could be shuttered by a moving brass circle to simulate phases of the moon. The guide pointed out the upper "hanky panky door" and an adjoining door to a bathroom. He mentioned that this was not all that old, as castles go, being occupied in the mid-19th century, during the Industrial Revolution, so they had things like running water, plumbing, and had even had the palace fitted with electric lights.

We left the marvels of the well-lived-in Hohenschwangau and took a brief break to browse souvenir stores and grab a bratwurst for me and an apple drink for Michelle, before tackling the imposing uphill walk to Schloss Neuschwanstein, perched high above. The walk was steep and somewhat tiring, but we managed it okay, the greatest hazard being the continual deposits of horse droppings littering the road. As we approached the castle, the trees parted magically to afford our first real close-up view of this fairy tale place, with gleaming white stone walls leading up to a towering spire and battlement-inspired but somehow gentler decorative architectural features. It had started sprinkling when we'd left Hohenschwangau, and the rain grew a bit heavier, but never enough to require an umbrella, although I did have to put my camera in my backpack to avoid too much water on it.

Once at the castle, we sheltered briefly in the gatehouse, before the urge to explore overcame the sprinkling raindrops, and I wandered about in the courtyards: a lower one and a higher one connected by a broad flight of stone steps that turned 90 degrees, on the left side as you looked from the gate. From the upper courtyard there was a fine view of a truly impressive metal dragon waterspout, as well as more stone steps leading up to a metal-ornamented wooden door into the schloss. Many people were milling around waiting for their tours and taking photographs.

After a while, our tour number appeared on the signboard and we piled through the turnstiles with about thirty other people. A sign indicated the tour began on the second floor, and pointed us up a seemingly endless spiral stone staircase, from which we emerged into a long corridor set up with queueing cordons and terminated by a chunky iron gate, which was locked. We waited a few moments, admiring the view out the windows to our left down into the upper courtyard below.

11:10 RE 32609 Füssen-Munich

We are on board a train for the next part of today's journey to Friedrichshafen. The bus to Füssen deposited us at the bahnhof, where I expected to find a train leaving for Kempten via Pfronten. But a survey of the departures list showed only trains to Munich. I inquired at the station ticket office on this, and the woman said the Kempten train left from a different Füssen station, some five kilometres away. She printed up an alternative from our present location, involving catching the Munich train and changing at Kaufbeuren. The arrival time was virtually identical, so I took the easy option and bought us tickets. The train pulled in soon after, as Michelle went to buy a drink, and we climbed aboard and pulled out of Füssen barely 15 minutes after arriving on the bus.

Back to yesterday and Schloss Neuschwanstein. Eventually a woman appeared to unlock the gate and let us in, from where we entered a magical fantasy realm decorated lavishly with ornate hand-made furniture, gold and silver fripperies, and amazing painted wall frescoes. Highlights included Ludwig II's bed, crowned with a model cathedral covering the entire canopy area over the bed; an artificial grotto made to look like the inside of a cave and illuminated by variously coloured lights; the music hall, a spectacular Wagnerian inspired feasting hall-like design straight out of Germanic mythology; a full wall fresco of Lohengrin on a swan boat meeting his wife (the guide woman summarised the story of Lohengrin as follows: "Lohengrin meets this woman and marries her on condition she never asks what his name means. One day she does, and he disappears. That's not the whole story, there's a bit more to it than that." One might hope so, because that's some stretch to fill a four hour opera with just that!); and several other rooms of stunning variety and decoration that really defy description easily. The guide kept telling people not to take videos or photos, but everyone kept doing so.

One the tour was over, we were left to descend yet another spiral staircase (I thought of those girls we'd met who said they'd had more than enough of them to last a lifetime already) to an entrapping-style gift shop that you had to walk through to reach the exit - which was down still further flights of stairs and along a 50 metre or so long tunnel apparently bored through the rocky foundations of the castle. At one point there were toilets there for the relief of people trying to find the exit and being trapped inside, near which was a gaping doorway tens of metres above the ground far below, sealed off for safety by only an iron gate. We also had to pass through the kitchen of the castle, and then along another long passage, past a scale model of the castle.

Eventually we emerged, blinking, into the bright cloudy daylight. The rain had stopped so we decided to take the20 minute walk up the hill to Mariensbrücke, a small footbridge over a deep gorge overlooking Neuschwanstein. The walk was very steep and taxing, but thankfully not too long, and gave us the best view yet of the castle, perched on its peak, but below us on the bridge, and set against the backdrop of the plain below, which spread out like a tablecloth decorated with tiny villages and little lakes. I took time to take several photos, including trying both wide and tele extenders on my Lensbaby. Then we began our long descent back down to Schwangau and our hotel.

13:29 RE 32653 Kempten-Lindau

Yet another train, as we wend our inexorable way across this Bavarian hinterland towards Friedrichshafen. We pulled into Kempten at 12:50, wondering how to get to our next waypoint of Lindau, when we noticed the departure indicator on the opposite platform showing a train for Lindau leaving at 13:00. I raced down the steps to the ticket office to get tickets, while Michelle waited with the bags. There were long queues at the ticket machines, and a bit of one at the service counters, but thankfully it moved quickly and I managed to buy tickets all the way through to Friedrichshafen and return to Michelle in time for her to race downstairs and quickly buy some semi-random rolls and a pastry for a quick lunch. She said she just rushed into the bakery shop, pointed at some stuff, threw some money at them, and ran out (taking the goods with her of course). So with a lightning turnaround time, we managed to solve our remaining transport problems for the day.

Back to Schloss Neuschwanstein We were walking down the long steep path back to the tourist megaplex at the foot of the hill when a man came up behind us and asked if we spoke English, then asked if we'd caught the bus out here. I replied yes, but was about to tell him we planned to walk back to Schwangau, as I wasn't sure what he wanted, when he asked if we knew where the bus stop was. I replied, "At the bottom of the hill, about ten minutes walk." He said he'd left his wife there to wait for him, thanked us, and took off like a bolt of lightning down the hill. Ten minutes later, we reached the end of the path, dodged the chain of restaurants and hotels, and headed off down the road back to Schwangau.

After walking about five minutes we realised the lovely forested scenery we were winding through, although beautiful, in no way resembled the straight tree-lined avenue through open fields that the bus had taken to go from Schwangau to Hohenschwangau. A pair of joggers approached and I stopped them to ask if we were on the road to Schwangau, or just to Füssen. The woman didn't know, but pulled out a gadget with a GPS map on it, pinpointed our location relative to the castles, the towns, and the roads, and indicated that we were on the wrong road, and that the quickest way to Schwangau was to go back to the bus stop near the castles and take the correct road.

We did so; thankfully it wasn't too far to backtrack. Then we walked along the straight laneway through the fields the 1.5 kilometres back to our hotel. We made it by 20:00, but Michelle reminded us that the restaurants here all closed at 21:00, so we went straight into the Pizzeria San Marco, across the road from our hotel. Michelle ordered a spinaci pizza and I got rigatoni amatriciana, which was fine, except that it had fatty German bacon in big chunks rather than thinly sliced Italian style. The waitress seemed to be speaking half-German, half-English, and half-Italian, and the menu (she gave us an English version as soon as she heard Michelle say something) said that the desserts were made fresh daily, so ask what they are, and "ask in Italian!"

So as we ate, I tried to reconstruct what Italian I could remember through the German roadblocks filling my head. The best I could come up with was, "Abbiamo una vista di dolce del giorno." Not brilliant, but it should get the message across. So when the waitress (who had bright burgundy red dyed hair, by the way) cleared our plates, I said it was the best Italian I could come up with on the spot and delivered my line as best I could. She smiled and turned to go, dropped our plates off, then sat down and started chatting with another customer! It was at this point that we realised she probably didn't speak Italian at all except for a few stock phrases like "grazie" and "buongiorno". She probably assumed we were complimenting the meal and just nodded and smiled at us. After waiting a good five minutes, I resorted to asking for "die nachspiesenkarte", which she brought immediately, and said there was also freshly made tiramisu and pannacotta available. I settled on an "ice dessert san marco", which was scoops of vanilla and chocolate ice cream laid out with some mini rum babas and a large strawberry, the lot smothered in rum, while Michelle had a cappuccino, made properly by a milk steamer and coffee dripper. We got out a bit after 21:00, although the place showed no real signs of closing.

We returned to our hotel and then went outside again briefly to take some long exposures of Schloss Neuschwanstein in the distance using a tripod. Unfortunately, 200mm of focal length wasn't enough to do it justice from that distance.

This morning we got up, had breakfast - more of the same sort of offerings as most other places so far - and took some last photos of the schloss from out the back, while Michelle walked over to check out a bakery we'd seen the night before. We checked out, then went over to the tourist information office to inquire about the best way to get to Friedrichshafen. The guy there could do no more than inform me that my idea of getting as far as Kempten was the best approach, and then seeing what was available from there. And so we ended up waiting for 40-odd minutes at the bus stop at Schwangau for our bus to Füssen.

14:30

We are now on a small two-car local train heading from Lindau to Friedrichshafen. We passed a lovely view of Lake Constance (die Bodensee) as our train from Kempten pulled in. Since we will have an afternoon spare once we check in in Friedrichshafen, we have decided to use the time to pop over to Switzerland - what the heck! - and have dinner there in Romanshorn, and maybe even buy some chocolate too. The plan is to get the car ferry from Friedrichshafen and return later in the evening.

20:28 Ferry Friedrichshafen in port in Romanshorn, Switzerland

We have just boarded the ferry for our return trip to Germany across Lake Constance.

After arriving in Friedrichshafen, we alighted at the hauptbahnhof and attempted to find where our hotel was. After looking fruitlessly within the station and contemplating the possibility of hassling a Die Bahn employee with dumb tourist questions, I spotted a tourist information place across the platz out the window. We walked over and entered to be greeted by four eager young women who all seemed to have nothing else to do and looked up expectantly as we entered as if it was the most exciting thing that had happened to them all day. Picking one more or less at random, I explained that we needed to find the Hotel Zeppelin. The woman replied in an exceedingly atypical German voice that sounded more like an excited Japanese schoolgirl, high-pitched and birdlike. The information was direct and useful though, as she marked on a map the location of the hotel and showed us the shortest walking route, which involved returning to the station and emerging on the other side of the tracks and then walking just a block.

As we walked, we noted a plane screeching by low overhead, and another pass directly overhead as we entered the hotel property. It wasn't obvious where the reception was as the building was off the street, partially behind some other buildings. I spied an official-looking glass door and headed towards it, getting there as another woman exited. She looked at us a bit strangely and said something in German. When I said we didn't understand and we spoke English, she explained haltingly that this was a staff entrance and she wasn't sure if the place was still open anyway, but there was a public entrance around the front. This caused some confusion, and we asked if that was the reception for the Hotel Zeppelin. She said no, the building she had come out of wasn't the hotel, that was the other building behind us, and she didn't know where the reception was. We thanked her and explored for ourselves, locating a likely looking staircase on the hotel building that led up to a frosted glass door and the reception desk.

A cheerful, slightly portly gentleman checked us in very efficiently to room 21 on the second floor. The room was large, with a lounge area and spacious bathroom. A door opened on to a balcony, or would have if I could have gotten it open. All the glass was half covered by metal blockout shutters, which didn't exactly inspire confidence in the neighbourhood. A check of a map showed that Friedrichshafen Airport was not far away, and that a line drawn along the runway extended directly over our hotel. Hopefully there won't be any planes landing or taking off overhead during the night.

Worn out after our four and a half hours on a bus and four trains (to contrast with yesterday's train and four buses) we both decided to have a shower before heading out - to Switzerland! As we left the hotel, we curiously looked to see what the mysterious other building that we'd nearly gone into was. It was an "Agencie für Arbeit" - basically a government employment agency office!

We walked over to the ferry dock, some fifteen minutes away and right next to the Zeppelin Museum. We tried to spot an ATM on the way as we were running short of euros, but had no luck. When we got to the ferry terminal, a ferry from Romanshorn was just pulling in, ready to leave again 20 minutes later. I tried to buy us return tickets, but they accepted neither Amex nor Visa, so I had to run around the corner to an ATM the woman mentioned, which I didn't find - at least I don't think so because she said it was "right around the corner" and I had to walk a good 200 metres to find one. I managed ot extract some euros, though not a receipt, from the machine I found and return in time for us to make the 16:41 ferry.

We clambered aboard (walked actually) and up to the top enclosed passenger deck, where there was a cafe inside and exposed tables outside. Everyone at an inside table was ordering food or drinks from a waitress, so we presumed we should probably stay outside where many other people were claiming the exposed benches. We got a bench facing forwards at the front, where it was a little windy, but not nastily so. Before long, the ferry chuggged its slow, stately was out into the Bodensee, headed for Romanshorn and Switzerland on the other side. We saw a car in the water, chugging along with people sitting in its open-topped bright blue buggy-type cabin. Astounding!

The ride took 41 minutes, in which time the grey skies unleashed a sprinkle of rain, enough to drive people from the uncovered benches to covered ones - ours was open to the wind but under cover, so we didn't have to move. The rain stopped by the time we reached Romanshorn, and we walked off into our third country in three days. I expected we'd have to show passports, but a simple sign said that "outside business hours, anyone with valid travel documents may cross the border", and since it was after 17:00 there was nobody there, so we didn't so much as have to flash a passport.

For our first steps in Switzerland, we walked over to the train station and under it to get to the street beyond. The more interesting areas looked to be to the western side, so we went that way, then turned south up a street that looked to be full of shops. We were basically looking for somewhere to eat dinner, but Michelle stopped to check out a few other shops. We stopped in at a chocolate shop of course - one does such things in Switzerland - and looked around at all the tempting treats. Michelle picked a bar of Caille Noir, and I got a lady to pick out a selection of six truffles and pralines for me. We'd realised that we had no Swiss francs, but luckily they accepted euros, and even gave change in same. They spoke German, but even to us it was obvious the accent was very different to in Germany.

From there we wandered fairly aimlessly down a side street that boasted more shops, but we quickly decided we needed to chase down a restaurant, and headed in the direction of several hotels and a hopefully more touristy area. We happened across a place called Restaurant Schiff, and I noticed the prominent display of rösti of various stripes on the menu. I'd been wanting to get Michelle to try one of these fried potato delights for a while, and they are actually a specialty of Switzerland, so we entered. I first asked if we could pay in euros, and the answer was yes, so we took up a non-smoking table in a nice area outside the main building, but protected from the elements by glass walls and roof, which was needed as it rained on and off throughout dinner.

I asked the waitress if she had an English menu, but the answer was an apologetic negative, so we made do with German. It wasn't too hard though, as Michelle ordered a rösti natural - just potato - while I got a speck rösti mit spiegelei - rösti with bacon and a fried egg. Smaller portions were available for CHF3 less, so Michelle got one of those. Nevertheless, Michelle's plain rösti cost CHF13, and mine CHF19.50 - expensive for a dish mostly made of spuds. I was expecting a large meal, and was in no way disappointed. We both barely managed to finish our plates, but we did so! The waitress was extremely happy and helpful, and although she didn't seem to speak any English at all was clearly simplifying her German to make sure we had no trouble understanding. Being in Switzerland we had to try dessert - the Lonely Planet says in Switzerland you should ignore dessert calories because the food is simply worth it. So it was lucky we were only in Switzerland for just over three hours, because we were taking that advice to heart. Michelle got a cappuccino, while I got a piece of the home made fruchtekuchen - an apricot flan with some type of custard filling. The piece that arrived looked like what I'd assumed was two pieces in the cake cabinet displayed inside. It was enormous! Also very good - tart from the fruit and sweet from the custard and glaze.

We settled the bill in euros, with the waitress paying change from a compartment of her huge change pouch that held dozens of euro coins. This is one thing I've forgotten to mention up to now: All the restaurant waiters have these big leather purse things that they carry around and make change from for your bill at the table. Clearly normal for this part of the world, but unusual to us, used to places that take away your money and bring the change back a bit later. They also have portable credit card terminals here so they can process credit card payments with at the table too.

The rain had settled in while we ate, and we had a damp walk back at a brisk pace to the ferry terminal, where we waited about half an hour for the 20:36 ferry back to Friedrichshafen. While we waited under an awning near the station, several local trains pulled in and out, including some with an old logo - the word "THURBO" written in a font that made it look like it was blurred side to side like your eyes weren't properly focused on it. It was eye straining just to look at it.

Our ferry pulled in at 20:22 and we got on as soon as the arriving passengers alighted. When we pulled into Friedrichshafen at 21:17, I expected no border control again, like on the Swiss side, but some customs officials were inspecting documents, so we produced our Australian passports. The official we handed them to flipped through them cursorily, probably more out of curiosity than anything else really, then handed them back to us and wished us a good night. The rain had followed us back to Germany, and we walked briskly home through the cold, wet, dark, empty streets of Friedrichshafen to our hotel for the night.

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