Europe 2025 - Leipzig, Germany
- Tim Madison
- Apr 19
- 28 min read
Updated: Apr 27
Leipzig - April 19
Today is moving day. Our last sleep in Dublin is demolished by an alarm klaxon at 3:15 am. It’s really the dinger on my phone but it sounds like a klaxon at that hour. We are catching an early flight to Berlin on Aer Lingus, saying farewell to Dublin. There are more than 770 pubs in Dublin. I wonder if anyone has visited all of them.
We’re looking forward to our time in Germany because there we’ll catch up with our friends Joshua, Katherina, and their two awesome kids, Helene and Wille.
We’ve been using airlines a lot in the past few years with very few snafus. Things have been going mostly according to plan with only minor annoyances, such as strangely chaotic airports that are difficult to navigate. Madrid and Berlin Brandenburg come to mind. But our planes have departed and arrived on time and all has run smoothly for quite a while. It’s getting a little spooky, like we can’t be this lucky, can we? This jump from Dublin to Berlin was also smooth like clockwork. Once on the ground there was a small hitch. We couldn’t book a train from Berlin to Leipzig like we normally do. The on-line booking system denied us tickets. It might have been that the train was full but that wasn’t stated. Alternative routes would have had us changing trains 3 times with long layovers. We just aren’t in the mood for that. Too old and cranky. So, we hired a car. Our driver had us cruising at 90-100 mph on the autobahn whenever the limits allowed. This got us to Leipzig in a little more than 2 hours, time enough to get checked in.
We both need a nap but first CK needs a bite to eat. Our fave Italian joint is serving lunch so we duck in there. And wouldn’t you know it, the server recognized us again. I don’t know how these guys remember us like they do. We only appear here once a year. If it’s Easter this must be Leipzig and the guys at Sardegna expect to see us? Seems like it. I get a soup, CK gets noodles. Afterward, CK goes to visit the Nikolai Kirche and I go to look for gloves to replace the ones that were nicked in Dublin. Don’t want to spend much time on it, though. We both need a nap.
Fast forward. Naps are done and dusted. We rouse our lazy selves because we have a date with Katherina, Joshua and Fam for dinner. We’re all riding the tram to a trendy neighborhood, trendy if you’re a struggling artist or just like to hang out with them. There’s a vegetarian restaurant they want to show us.
We find them in the lobby of the hotel. Helene (11) and Wille (9) have prepared a beautiful Easter basket with goodies and a handmade card. So sweet! Hugs all around. We’re happy to see them all so healthy and strong.
I forget the name of the restaurant. I know it’s something I would have to practice to pronounce properly. I know I’d have better luck with that than with the Irish Gaelic pronunciation in Dublin. There, I just didn’t even try.
Dinner was interesting. Lots of veggies with herbs, served with fatty sauces. My fave was roasted carrots with yogurt dressing. A cabbage dish with cheese was another. Beer to wash it down. The kids went for French fries and a sweet dish that approximated French toast. Tomorrow we’re likely to make up for this vegetarianism when we plunder the Easter Market in the center plaza.
On the way home we find a gelato store. Gotta have some.
Tomorrow we meet the fam at noon for more hanging out and adventures.
Leipzig – April 20
Easter Sunday. Christians are noisy. Bells from all towers are assaulting us for 20 minutes. All the schools are on vacation for 10 days. Today every shop is shut except for a few at the train station.
The TV shows that an effort is being made to prop up the prop, erm, I mean Pope for one last gasping wish for world peace in the name of superstition. Which is nice. Nicer will be a visit to the medieval market in the central plaza with the Fam. We meet them in the lobby at noon.
Perhaps Mephistopheles will make an appearance at the market. Will he dare? The splendid fellow found me yesterday and posed for a portrait most agreeably. There's always a non-zero chance to find J.H.C. freshly resurrected, waiting in the queue for the bratwurst booth or the whisky shop. I'd spring for his lunch. Nah. I think my money is safe. I retract that non-zero chance.
One coffee shop was open. I grabbed a banana cake and a coffee but CK wanted more substantial stuff. I think she wanted an egg breakfast but that’s not happening today. Her only option is a Subway and that wasn’t even acceptable after a couple of bites. No worries, though. Joshua and Katherina are taking us to the Easter Market up the street. No shortage of protein there. Noon can’t come fast enough for poor starving CK.
Finally, we hook up with the Fam and we’re off to the market. This is pretty much the same medieval themed Easter Market we’ve seen here for 9 years or so. We kinda know how it goes. We don’t have to sample everything because we already have. When we see what we like we just go for it. I plunder a bratwurst (because I’m in Germany, ja) and a beer. CK goes for a very gooey German style crepe that is full of cheese that must have been toasted on the surface of the sun. She offered me a bite and I nearly blistered by lips on it. I’m not sure what the kids ate. It was a kind of sandwich in a ridiculously thick bun.
After inhaling that thing, Wille decided to attempt a diabolical test of agility having to do with climbing a nearly horizontal rope ladder about 3 meters. Ringing a bell on the wall signified success. He bought 3 attempts. No cigar. He made a valiant, good-natured go at it but it proved too tricky in the end.
The kids then found the lady who did Henna tattoos. They both signed up. As the lady began painting Helene’s hand, a handful of curious folks looked in. By the time Wille’s turn came up it was an official crowd. Funny how that works. The kids were probably her first sales. She had plenty of customers lined up as we left the booth.
Suddenly our time is up. Katherina has a tea party ready for us back at their house. We leave the market behind for another year. CK notes that we didn’t get a Trdelnik this time. It’s just as well because nobody is hungry.
Nobody is hungry, that is, until we see the very substantial tea party Katherina has arranged for us at home. Miraculously, we have room for more. These dainties are better than those we had at the Shelbourne two days ago. Strange how quickly cakes disappear when placed in front of Wille or Helene.
Full of tea and goodies, Katherina suggests a walk in the park area adjacent to their home. Weather is lovely, light dappling through the newly leafing trees. CK dances with Helene. The forest floor is covered in wild garlic just on the verge of blooming. Joshua points out that other plants are mixed in that look like wild garlic but aren’t. Wild garlic is a popular ingredient in certain dishes here but sometimes, those who are careless or clueless get badly poisoned or killed by the look-alikes. On that note, I'll stay with the garlic I know and leave the wild stuff to the lucky and the brave.
The day isn’t over. Joshua and Katherina have a tapas style, German fusion meal ready to spoil us with. Fresh fruit, amazing salad, stuffed mini peppers, olives, spicey ciabatta bread, 4 kinds of cheese, salami, prosciutto, sparkling cider, and more. Delicious and healthy, too. We’re happy to be back with our friends and, of course, the Squids. Never a dull moment with those two youngsters around.
Tomorrow there are adventures planned further afield.
Karlovy Vary – April 21
Road trip! Katherina and Joshua have been planning this excursion for weeks. We’re in the spa town of Karlovy Vary in the Czech Republic, about 2.5 hours drive from Leipzig. All five of us plus luggage for two sleeps in a rented van made the trip this morning through a very green spring landscape dotted with blooming trees of various kinds. This town of about 49,000 has some glass and food industry but is mostly a tourist destination focused on hot springs and bathing facilities. For many years this was an almost exclusive playground for the wealthy, specifically Russian oligarchs would set up camp here. This made the accommodations too expensive for middle income types. Then V. Putin invaded Ukraine. The European Union immediately shut their borders to Russian travelers. Karlovy Vary had to pivot, lowering the price tag across the board as reservations dried up. This makes it possible for us and others to come here these days. Somehow it seems wrong to have opportunities like this because of conflict elsewhere. It is an odd twist.
The town sits in a river valley and follows it for a few miles. Buildings are perched on the steep terrain sometimes with spectacular effects. The architecture dates from the 18th century to the early 20th. There are more modern structures but not many. This gives the town an antique look, so much so that it was placed on the UNESCO World Heritage list in 2021.
We are here just tripping with the fam, enjoying the Squids and ourselves, sightseeing, wandering the streets, and planning to consume food. Of course, there’s a spa visit in the works but that is for tomorrow. After arriving we have the afternoon to find our Air BnB, park the vehicle (which is a bit of a chore here), and unpack. There’s still some time to take a stroll and get some pizza. We chose pizza for a quick hit to fill the void, then be off for more of our walking tour. Nope. It took them an hour to bring food. This was something of a mystery since the restaurant was not crowded. By the time we got free of this slow lunch experience we were a little pressed. Joshua and CK had a massage scheduled. They had to hustle to make it on time.
While CK was being tenderized, I snoozed in the flat. This isn’t just any flat. I don’t know how many square feet it is, but it’s a lot. Parquet wood floors, high ceilings, expensive redecoration and remodel, updated fixtures, all in a building that looks like it may be 1915-ish. Everyone, including Squids have their own room. There is no elevator. Everything must be schlepped three floors. It could be worse. I think there are 6 floors here. Yes, Katherina really scored with this accommodation.
She has also arranged for dinner tonight at the Grand Hotel Pupp (pronounced poop). This is a 5 star swank just down the street from our digs. Historic figures, movies stars, politicians hang out here. The walk of fame includes Daniel Craig, Morgan Freeman, Helen Mirren, etc. My fave is Giacomo Casanova, 1785. The lobby fans out on marble floors, the ceiling recedes into a luxurious loft, Venetian chandeliers and sprays of fresh flowers seem to demand that ladies wear gowns and real bling, that men wear tuxedos and speak French. The illusion is crushed when a beer bellied Joe in jeans and a t-shirt waddles through with his take-away box in hand. The staff brings the scene back to order with their slick liveried uniforms and aires of obsequious superiority. We aren’t wearing tuxes and Versace. Our bags and shoes aren’t Gucci but we clean up pretty well. We've got dresses, jackets, ties, nice shoes, better than some, worse than others. The dining room is regally spacious, again with the high ceilings, huge windows with about 200 lbs of drapery on each one. Gentle piano music wafts through the perfect acoustics. If a string quartet were to be playing in the corner, there would be no echo effect. Our food again is slow, but that may be the style here, no rush, plenty of time allowed for conversations and cocktails, or picking though your delicately prepared dish. Katherina orders venison, I have a duck confit, CK has halibut, Joshua goes for the set menu with 6 courses. Squids get Wienerschnitzel. It is really a terrific experience. We don’t get 5 star dining anywhere except when Joshua and Katherina are taking care of us. Love it.
This is a short post because I’m late putting it together. I need some sleep. Tomorrow, we have a full day in Karlovy Vary.
Karlovy Vary – April 22
The primary feature of Karlovy Vary is its thermal baths and spa installations, such as cold plunges, saunas, steam baths, hot mineral soaks, massages, and the like. It also seems to be a hotspot for access to plastic surgery and other personal aesthetics like tattoos and permanent makeup. Joshua, Katherina, CK, and the Squids are already good looking and therefore in no need of corrective procedures. They are opting for the spa. They can’t get enough of it. I’m not a spa fanatic like they are. All that gentle boiling, bubbling, steaming, and pampering only makes me sleepy, which may be the idea. But when I sleep, I snore and nobody wants that. While the rest of the fam is getting soaked, I’m going for a walk around town.
I need to find a scarf to replace the one that got nicked in Dublin. Here is a good town for one but I want to visit more than one shop. The first shop is two doors down from our flat. It has some ok scarves but at $37 US I don’t feel so good about it. About a quarter mile away, in one of the pedestrian zones I find another shop. They have scarves for $25 each. Seems too much for a piece of fabric with some tassels attached. Further on I spot an archway that leads beyond the pedestrian zone past a couple of dumpsters. A sign promises shopping over there. In I go. Just beyond the trash bins there are three shops stuffed with clothing items all being handled by Thai or Vietnamese people. Here the scarves are identical to those I’ve been looking at. Price: $7. For those planning to visit here, it is well to look around a little before pulling out the VISA card.
I have no other agenda now that I have completed the scarf quest. My only thought is to try to get lost like Rick Steves often suggests. I pull up Google Maps, zoom in and out. I spot a likely name: Goethe’s Beer House. The walking directions show me a serpentine route away from the main promenade. Could be good. A few minutes later I’m climbing steps away from the river and the tourist zone up into little streets where I’m alone except for the odd local and these folks are checking me out as if I don’t belong there which is correct. Google directs me down a street that has no room for a car to pass a pedestrian. Of course, a car pulls up behind me. It must wait for me to walk to the end of the street because there is no space on the side for me to stand clear. I turn into what looks like a dead end until I see a space between buildings. That must be the way. Just through the other side is Goethe’s Beer House and I’m back on the river promenade. This is just a club for the clubbing crowd. Bad pop music floods the entrance. My hope to discover something odd or exceptional dies like gelato on a hot sidewalk. I did get a little exercise, so not a total loss.
I’m on the promenade, feeling a bit parched. A Campari Spritz on an April afternoon next to the river sounds grand. The server says something unintelligible in Czech which is my chance to practice my phrase, “Omlouvam se. Nemluvim cesky”, – “I’m sorry. I don’t speak Czech.” She laughs and says “That’s pretty good”, in English. It’s my magic travel trick. Works every time.
Now that I have a decent buzz on (the spritz was a good one), I’m on the hunt for a little shop Katherina told me about yesterday, ‘The Oysterium’. Google gets me there, no problem. It is tiny. There are 3 small tables and six chairs. A photo on the wall is a portrait of a bearded hipster who holds the record for most oysters consumed on the premises, 101. The caption informs me that my face can replace his if I can eat 102. I am the only customer. I’m served by a lady who can speak a little English. I order 6 oysters and a cup of bubbly. I have a lovely time slowly sipping wine and oysters, sorting photos on my phone, and planning my next move. That guy’s face is going to stay on the wall.
The next thing is to find the Fenicular, a steep little railcar that climbs to a lookout over the town. At the top there’s the Diana Observation Tower, 40 meters tall. There are 150 steps to the top. Also, there’s an elevator. I take the steps. At the top there’s a commanding view of Karlovy Vary as well as 3 other towns in the zone. Can’t name them, though. There’s a café there and a kid’s playground but that’s about it. Down again in the cable car and start the hike back to the flat. Somehow, I’ve managed to fiddle away 5 hours. It was marvelous. No appointments, no agenda. Just following my nose.
I let myself into the flat but I’m alone there because everyone is out getting tea and cakes. Eventually they show up, the Squids barreling up the staircase followed by the slowpoke adults. We are then given instructions for the evening meal. It is a French-ish restaurant called Le Marché. Katherina likes this one because of the elegant quality and their style of changing the menu every day. Tonight, it’s a combination of lamb and fish in three courses. Very dainty fare but quite rich and flavorful. Despite the tiny portions nobody was hungry after dessert was cleared away.
There’s more to explore tomorrow but we will also drive back to Leipzig. It’s moving day.
Karlovy Vary – April 23
We all vote for a lazy morning and a late breakfast because why not? It is a perfect spring day in April again, with sun, birdsong, blooming trees, and fresh green leaves. This town is nearly 100% automobile free in its center which means we can take a leisurely stroll by the river through the morning air between the pastel-colored buildings and shops without the noise, danger, and pollution of traffic. It feels luxurious to be free of all that in an urban environment. Our recent stops in Glasgow and Dublin provide a stark contrast.
Katherina and Joshua have the Café Elefant in mind for our morning repast. It is an updated version of a late 19th century remodel. The world of 130 years ago still lingers in the air. Goethe, Beethoven, and various nobility have been served here. The pastry cases are loaded with technicolor dainties and cakes for those who indulge. Tables are spread out in front of the entrance to rival any Parisian sidewalk café. We never sit outside, though. That’s where the smokers are. Our breakfast is taken upstairs in a pool of warm sunshine in a corner.
We have an equally pleasant walk back to the flat with a quick diversion to the Trdelnik shop. We just had breakfast, mind you, but the two Squids are bottomless pits. They aren’t fat at all. They can simply process vast quantities. Trdelnik means ‘chimney’ in Czech. The item is like a donut in the shape of a tube. Helene gets hers filled with ice cream. Wille has his without. I want one but I’m full of breakfast. I just can’t. Oh to be young again.
Back at the flat we’re packing our things, loading the car, and getting out of town. We’re on our way back to Leipzig but with a detour. We’re going to visit the Czech town of Loket, a very picturesque town which features Loket Castle. This castle has its origins in the 12th century but what we see is mostly based on the 15th century upgrade. The tour of the castle is self-guided. Mostly we see cabinets of antiques and curiosities. There was a porcelain industry here in the 19th century so we see lots of examples of porcelain figurines. It must have been a fad back then. There’s a rather large meteorite on display, a fascinating chunk of space iron which must have caused a serious splash when it struck eons ago. It was fished out of the bottom of the castle well where someone had dumped it. The castle tour ends with a descent into the dungeon where people suffered miserable fates, tortured for displeasing the Lord of the Manor or The Inquisition in some way. It is palpably spooky, claustrophobia inducing, with a real chill in it. CK and I were relieved to find the exit, which wasn’t obvious. There was a bit of irrational anxiety attached to searching for it. I wonder if they did that on purpose? Halloween fright houses have nothing on this place.
Down the street we had lunch at lovely bierstube where they brewed their own beer. The copper fermentation kettles were installed in the corner of the dining room where a fellow was busy making a batch. My lunch was a beef goulash with dumplings. Excellent stuff. The beer wasn’t bad either. It was lively with a good head on it.
Joshua does a terrific job piloting the rented van with two cylinders (it couldn’t have had more than that) for two hours to get us all back to Leipzig in safe order. We’ve had a marvelous time in Karlovy Vary in their excellent company. Lots of good food and an urban experience that was sensual in all aspects. Even the weather was ideal.
There wasn’t much left of the day in Leipzig but we spent it at a local Irish pub, just a half block away from our hotel. I had a cottage pie that was worthy. CK, not so lucky with her seafood stew. We’re not on the ocean here so fish come down the highway on a truck.
Our plans for tomorrow may be intentionally vacant. Could be a robe and slippers day.
Leipzig – April 24
Our brilliant spring weather is on pause today. Rain is in the forecast but we’re not worried. We plan to sleep in as long as we like and if we regain enough consciousness, we’ll go for a walk. Joshua and Katherina are at home taking care of chores and digging in their garden allotment. The Squids are catching up on vacation homework. We’ll meet them tonight for dinner at CK’s favorite Italian joint in Leipzig, The Sardegna.
We can only report that we dragged ourselves out of bed at about 10 am. It’s as if we had a second bout of jet lag. CK confesses that J, K & The Squids wore her out yesterday. I think I’m just getting lazy. Being on extended travel like this gives me a sense of indolence, in a way. It’s not that I’m avoiding work, it’s simply that my chores are thousands of miles away. So, I drink a lot of tea and get sleepy. Today, putting my shoes on seemed to be more burdensome than other days but I did it. CK and I grabbed our sweaters & bumbershoots and lurched over to the trams by the train station. A short tram ride to the Karli district puts us in a slightly familiar part of town. We haven’t had much food so far. The plan is to correct that situation at a place we discovered years ago, The Café Puschkin. I’m curious about the last time we were here. My very faulty memory tells me that it was not so long ago, as in last year, but in reviewing past blogs I find that the last time I posted about visiting was 7 years ago. Now that I have evidence of the untrustworthiness of my own brain, I can abandon all sense of responsibility from now until I pop off into the void! Wheee! The Puschkin is as close to a native pub as one can find. Yes, there are beer drinking hangouts in Germany, for sure, but not in the same cozy, snug kind of way we find in the UK, for instance. There are copies of Irish pubs here in Leipzig but that doesn’t count. Here at The Puschkin is a genuine pub with a German provenance that isn’t a bierstube. There is artwork here, interior design with sarcasm, randomness, and irreverence. The theme is that of mocking the occupation of the Soviets and the subsequent German Democratic Republic, all of which stretched from 1945 to 1990. The collapse of the GDR was 35 years ago and those who remember those days are popping off. The Puschkin may also be serving as a living monument, a cheeky reminder to the youngsters about their somewhat recent history. 7 years ago, their motto was painted on the window: “Revolution Now, but first, coffee.” That is gone now, a victim of remodeling. We notice some changes in the place but nothing substantial, just improvements and perhaps more art. It seems to us like the hippest joint in the Karli. I just want a beer and a small lunch. CK orders soup which has a strong characteristic of bell pepper, not her favorite. This is what happens when we cannot read the menu properly. My order was some version of pork on sauce soaked brown bread topped with tomato and pickles. Czech beer to wash it down.
Out on the street again, CK is hunting for some particular items. This gets us nosing into a few shops, all in vain. Any tram will take us back to the city center. We catch one immediately because they are only 5 minutes apart. Back at Augustusplatz it is only a few meters to the central shopping district. Here CK finds the exact stationery shop she was looking for.
With that mission accomplished, the only thing left is to have our Riquet moment. This is a coffee and cake experience in the heart of Leipzig. There are coffee and cake shops everywhere, it seems, like Starbucks in Seattle. Germans love their tea cakes and coffee. The special part about Riquet is its art nouveau architecture and interior details. Something that doesn’t fit the Riquet experience are the servers who present themselves in black jeans and t-shirts. This is quite the hangout during Leipzig’s Goth Festival (aka Wave-Gotik-Treffen) which will happen this year in June. Goth afficionados in Victorian, Steampunk, and Demonic costumery will be crawling all over this café to see and be seen.
Our tea drained, our cake devoured, there’s nothing left but trudge back through the rain to our hotel for naps. A brief stop by Nikolaikirche is required by CK because its on our way.
A 7 pm dinner with the fam is next. Sadly, Katherina isn’t feeling 100% so our party is 5 for Sardegna. We described our day although there wasn’t much to it. Joshua reported on the disastrous romp of weeds in the garden. Helene had fencing practice earlier in the afternoon. Wille, the Hedgehog, made progress on his homework but didn’t quite get it all done. We have a lovely evening of chat and pasta. Afterwards we make a run for the Pinguin for ice cream dessert. We arrive before their closing time but they are closing early. Not fair. Joshua promises to leave them a bad review online.
We’ll make up for it tomorrow with sumptuous
desserts or hit another ice cream shop just to spite the Pinguin.
Tomorrow, we expect showery weather again. Not sure what we’ll get up to.
Leipzig – April 25
CK and I are on our own again today, totally unsupervised, always a risky situation. We sleep in too late for breakfast to be a matter of concern. We segue directly to where we want to go. The town of Wittenburg is nearby, about 35 minutes by rail. We haven’t been there yet. There’s a train every hour on the quarter hour. We have 30 minutes to catch the next one. But first we need tickets. The hauptbahnhof is only 5 minutes walk and we think we know where the ticket office is. We need the ticket office because we are completely
unsure of the train ticket kiosk automat machine even though it gives us instructions in English. Bah. They moved the ticket office from where we last remember it. Quick. Over to the DB information desk in the center of the promenade. The guy tells us its down two levels, thataway. Quick skip down the escalators and find the office. Wait in line. Get our tickets. The train is at track 11 scheduled to leave in 2 minutes. At this point we’re sure we won’t make it, but just in case we climb the two floors and hustle over there. Yes. The train is still waiting. CK moves to the nearest door and pops on with me right on her heels. Not 30 seconds after we board, the doors close and we’re off. Had we missed it, we’d have waited another hour for the next one. When it came to finding a seat, we weren’t so lucky. Everything was taken except the 1st class seats and we didn’t buy those. We spent 35 minutes standing at a table in the bar car. It was a short trip, so no worries.
Poof! The train disgorges us and we’re suddenly walking toward Wittenburg’s altstadt (old town). The weather front passed in the night and the sky is clearing up. It’s a lovely day for a walk. The station is only about 7 minutes walk from the town. Something is odd, though. The road next to us seems to have no traffic. As we reach town, the streets are equally quiet. We see colorful, restored 17th and 18th century buildings, a wide, well maintained cobblestone street, and very little human activity. The whole town seems abandoned in a way. The plaza is totally void of people except us. Eventually we notice some locals around the coffee shops and a couple of small tour groups but there’s still a sense of vacancy, a spooky kind of quiet, even a hint of an echo between the buildings.
The deal with Wittenburg, its claim to fame, has to do with Martin Luther. He lived and worked that as a professor at the University of Wittenburg in the early 16th century, the days when universities were mostly about religion. He is given credit for lighting up the Protestant Reformation when he posted his 95 theses on the door of the catholic church there in 1517. Europe got fairly wound up and hot about this at the time. Lots of people got hurt, some of them terribly, which seems utterly senseless knowing that these days Christianity has over 45,000 different denominations. But don’t get me started. I’m a Barking, Blue Painted Pagan 100%. We’re just here for the architecture, the musty smells, and to marvel at humanity’s capacity for nonsense.
Speaking of which, there are two churches and some bits of city to inspect. The first is St. Mary’s Church, claiming to be the mother church of the reformation. It has foundations dating back to the 12th century. Martin Luther preached here over 2,500 times. I looked for a Green Man but came up empty.
Staring at grim Christian art featuring human sacrifice reminds us that it is time for lunch. There are cafés available but nothing inspiring. I spot an archway that looks inviting. It leads to a well kept courtyard at the end of which is a cozy looking entrance. Inside is a proper German bierstube with all the woodwork and a copper beermaking shop in the middle of it much like we found in that bistro in Loket two days ago. The place, ‘The Hotel & Bauhaus’, is pretty much empty, just us and another party of 3. We get a couple of bowls of goulash. We don’t need much food. Mostly what I get is a bunch of photos and the sense that we found the best joint in town, just by accident.
Down the street is the big one, the Schloss und Schlosskirche, castle and castle church. It’s a church stuck onto the corner of a castle. The first thing we see from the street is its tower, dark and heavy, looking very much like Sauron might rent it from Air BnB. Everything inside is very tidy, neatly preserved, prepared to be visited by thundering busloads except there are no buses here now. We tour the church in almost silence, only a handful of people there with us. Here we find the bones of Martin Luther himself, safely stashed under a formidable cap of concrete. I hope he stays there.
Wittenburg is worth visiting if you’re in this part of Germany just for the well preserved old town and airy feel of it, the grumpy old churches notwithstanding. I particularly recommend The Hotel & Bauhaus for food and Germanic awesomeness. This is another town which seems to be off the international tourist track. Nobody speaks a lick of English here. Even the train agent struggles. My magic phrase, “Wir sprechen kein deutsche,” helps in most cases. In one instance, with an ice cream vendor, I used my Spanish.
The train whisks us back to Leipzig in time for a quick snooze and splash of the face before our meeting with Joshua and the Squids for the evening meal at Wienstock bistro at 6 pm. Katherina can’t make it tonight, plagued by a headache. We chat about our day over an excellent meal while the Squids carry on like a couple of jet fueled mad hatters. Afterward, we take our dessert at the Pinguin ice cream shop where we all order too much frozen dairy fat except for Helene who totally cleaned up her dish and then started on Wille’s. She’s allowed since she has fencing matches tomorrow in Weimar. We’re going to be there to cheer her on.
Leipzig – April 26
Today we’ll be experiencing a day in the life of Helene, our delightful 11-year-old friend and daughter of Joshua and Katherina. Over the past few years she has been engaged in fencing training as one of her many extra-school activities. She signed up to compete in a tournament today in Weimar, about an hour’s drive away. We asked if we could tag along and observe the proceedings and luckily, she said yes.
Joshua arrives to pick us up at our Leipzig hotel at 8 am. Starting this early could get us to Weimar long before the matches begin but Joshua thinks there may be unusual activity on the autobahn involving military trucks. Better safe than stuck in traffic. As it happens, there were no slowdowns. We arrive at the venue an hour ahead of match play, plenty of time for Joshua to brief us on what is happening and why. We’ve never been to a fencing tournament. In fact, we’ve only seen fencing on TV briefly every 4 years during the Olympics. I’m pretty sure it would get more attention if American athletes were competitive. But they aren’t and that means it won’t be a big part of Olympics coverage. We’ll have more exposure to fencing in the next 4 hours than we’ve had in our combined 148 years of existence.
They are using foils. Joshua explains some of the basic rules and challenges the fencers have, so we can better interpret what we see. This tournament is for young fencers, kids from 10-15, I think. The building is humming with family members, coaches, and friends of the combatants. Some ladies are operating a tidy, home spun food service just inside the entrance. A fellow on the patio outside is operating a grill featuring bratwurst and pork chops. The scene reminds me of some of the Little League baseball tournaments I took part in when I was a kid, long ago before the Earth was cool.
Once the action begins there are several matches taking place at once. Everyone gets multiple matches with a ranking system eventually defining some eliminations. The results are tabulated very quickly and flashed on an electronic screen. Once a round is finished, new matchups are sorted for the next round with very little fuss. It’s all terribly well organized. The only chaos appears when severe disappointment, occasioned by defeat, overcomes a couple of the fencers. There were some tears but not many.
Helene played very well despite not feeling 100%. She probably only got 9 hours of sleep instead of the 12 hours that kids her age are capable of. She won some matches, lost others but was never blanked. She was competitive in all her matches. In a field of 22 competitors her result was 11th place. This is ok and we’re proud of her, but we know that she knows she’ll do better next time. Fencing is something she enjoys, so there’s a lot of success ahead of her.
After the tournament, Helene deserves ice cream. Joshua drives us into the city to find a shop. Along the way we see dozens of police in battle gear lining the street. A quick search online reveals that a demonstration of some kind is scheduled to roll through town. The demonstration is permitted and the police are there to deal with anyone who might get too excited. Even so, it is a chilling sight and before the march begins we decide to keep driving back to Leipzig. We’ll get ice cream there.
There’s an excellent ice cream shop in their neighborhood and that’s where we’re aiming. Ice creams shops are usually in market areas or tourist zones with significant foot traffic. This one isn’t. It is all by itself in a residential zone on a street with no appreciable foot traffic. Nevertheless, it is mobbed on a Saturday afternoon. People are using it as a hangout, just lounging around on chairs on the sidewalk slurping ice cream. There’s an opportunity here for a coffee shack. Anyhow, here is where Helene gets her ice cream fix. Of course, we can’t resist either.
We part company with promises to meet up again tomorrow for a garden party at Joshua’s home. Hugs all around for an excellent day.
The rest of our evening is easy and pleasant. We ride the tram back to central Leipzig and find a place to get a hot meal, Bobby’s Beef Club, I think. It was ok, not brilliant. I could have done just as well with another bratwurst and mustard from a street vendor.
We’ll have an early evening to bed and a lazy morning tomorrow. I think we’re gathering strength for next week when we’ll be doing a lot of packing, unpacking, and repositioning.
Leipzig – April 27
This is our last full day in Leipzig and the plan is elementary: Be as lazy as possible and spend a few hours with the Fam. Well, maybe not 100% lazy. I used the hotel’s gym, as I have been doing all week, just to stretch and warm up my sagging muscles. I made a quick hike over to the train station to snag some breakfast for us, a cinnamon roll and a some orange juice. This is Sunday and everything is clammed up tight. There are 3 coffee shops within spitting distance of the hotel but none of them will open until 9 today. Even on a weekday only one of them will crack its door at 7. For any coffee and Danish earlier than that one must go to the train station, about 4 blocks distance. Mickey D’s is open 24/7, but this is to be avoided except for their coffee, which is surprisingly acceptable. Starbucks and Lukas are open with the crows at 6. Lukas is my go-to. CK isn’t 100% lazy, either. She goes for a paddle in the hotel’s steamy swimming pool. That thing is purely tropical, almost like a hot tub. I think this is her last chance for a swim. There aren’t any pools where we go next.
There’s one place we haven’t covered on our annual pilgrimage to Leipzig and we’re going to correct that now. Thomaskirche, is the other antique church in town. This one claims the ghost of Johann Sebastian Bach who was the chief music boss (Cantor) here for 27 years . His bones are interred under a bronze slab near the altar. This church gets a lot of use despite dating from the 14th century. The church we see today was remodeled in the 19th century but the ceiling is much as it ever was.
About 1:30 pm we hop the tram out to Joshua & Katherina’s home, about a 30 minute ride. Our weather is brilliant, blue sky, cool air, with a fresh breeze. Katherina has tea and Biscotti ready for us. I don’t know how the time passes so quickly but we manage to chat the afternoon away, swapping stories, and teasing the kids. We have a bag of small gifts for everyone, nothing spectacular, just tokens of our affection. Joshua doesn’t let us get away with it, however. He presents us with 5 boxes of Oplatka, those razor thin wafer cookies from the Czech Republic. How we’re going to fit these into our luggage is a puzzle we’ll have to tackle in the morning.
At mealtime, Joshua sets to work preparing Chicken Schnitzel, fresh asparagus (Spargel), and spuds. There’s Hollandaise sauce for the asparagus, very decadent. I must leave that for everyone else. It’s too rich for me. We get to meet Helene’s friend, 12 year old Matilda, who is here for a sleepover. She’s very charming and has amazing hair.
After dinner we have a stroll around the neighborhood just before sunset. We get a look at the reconstruction project at the old brewery complex across the street. This is multi-million Euro project that will feature 350 apartments, a new plaza, shops, restaurants, and who knows what. It’s a big deal and quite a change for this neighborhood.
Back at their flat, the food isn’t finished. There’s a final splurge of fresh crepes, strawberries, egg crème, lemon crème, marscapone, and whipped cream. Wille wants all the crepes sans marscapone. Helene assaults the whipped cream and strawberries. CK and I take a bit of everything. We’re stuffed and the kids are launched on a sugar high.
We’ve had a very fine day, low stress day with our friends but it is time to say goodbye to them for another year. Hugs all around promises to stay out of trouble. We’ll be in touch online, of course, and perhaps maybe a Zoom on birthdays or Xmas. We ship gifts back and forth obsessively. When we see them again, Helene and Wille will have transformed again into more mature versions of themselves, Helene especially. She may be taller than her mother by this time next year.
The tram takes us back to the hotel and last minute packing ensues. We still don’t know what to do with the Oplatka cookies. We may have to eat them.
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