The Laber

What to do on Christmas day? Where to go? What to see?

We walked to the edge of town, down the still ice-slick path along the gurgling canal now higher than before with even more melting run-off from last week's snow. It has been unusually warm and the snow will soon be gone.

The signs had said the Laber Bergbahn would be open on Christmas day. And it was. We were not the first on line, but were still early enough to avoid the crowds we would see later. The bergbahn is a small cable car (the translation into English is rope-way!).

Walking paths on der Laber (too much snow to walk the wanderwegs)

Ski routes on der Laber (too little snow to ski)

We head back down the wanderweg towards the Laber.

The canal has swollen with the increased snow-melt

Leaving the station

Oberammergau melts away

Only small spots of snow still under the cable car.

The Laber Mountain lies between Oberammergau and Ettal. From the top of the Laber one can see to Munich in one direction and beyond the Zugspitz (the tallest mountain in Germany) to Austria in the other (on a clear day, of course). We were blessed with another clear day.

We shared our ride up with four travelers from western Australia. They have been traveling for three months across Europe and were game for any suggestion. We took photos with them and wished them safe travels as we parted.

At higher altitudes we start to see a little more snow.

This sign reads "This stoppage is a normal consequence of operation." We are about half-way up and we stop until another car comes to "counterbalance" us. We swing a little in the breeze.

Moving up again.

The wind picked up while we were atop the mountain and, after a few snowballs were thrown, we headed inside the small cafe for perhaps the best cup of coffee we have enjoyed on our travels.




View from the top towards Ettal.



Playing in the snow.



We can see Munich in the distance (and later a skier came striding out of those trees).



Windsock indicates a stiff breeze.

Bird feeder on the railing.



Time to go...long before the last car.

Our trip down the mountain was "off schedule" we believe to counterbalance other cars coming up - FILLED with passengers. We suspect those were the wise people who reserved tables in the cafe for Christmas dinner atop the Laber.


Amazing pine tree forest.



We were the counterbalance for this car FULL of people.

We had other plans. Our party returned to Garmisch to dine with other Americans at a last recreational outpost for troops in Europe. It was odd to be surrounded by "English" signs and directions and menus and speakers.

We toasted the company and the day before returning to plan what will be our last non-travel day here. We were able to chat online with the rest of the family.



Back in our room, we have a Christmas chat with the rest of the family.

[Tonight DH and I walked the quiet streets discussing our separate plans - I will not ski tomorrow - checking store opening times for a little shopping - only later did we discover that nothing is open on the 26th - Boxing Day. We are greeted with "Gruss Gott" by the people we do pass. Even the children on their bikes nod and speak this phrase to strangers.]


Notes:

1. http://www.laber-bergbahn.de/en/
2. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gr%C3%BC%C3%9F_Gott










Silent night, heilige nacht

Silent night

Holy night

All is calm, all is bright.

At 10:05 I walked the three blocks to the village church and stepped inside. I should have been early, but people knew better than I that tonight would be standing room only. I found a seat in the far back. I was in seat number 236 until a couple of women (later than I had been) came in and moved me to 235.

The music had already started. The choir and a brass group (French horns and trumpets?) were taking turns - almost a call and answer. The choir, like angels, in the loft and the brass group on the altar - alternating.

Only after Mass did I discover that there were two lofts above the church proper. The lower loft contained pews and the choir. The upper loft held the orchestra. The music was beautiful from my seat below them, but when I walked to the altar for communion, the sound was incredible. I don't really know how to describe it adequately - heavenly perhaps.

After the "tuning" the Mass started. That it was a high Mass was communicated by the altar servers lighting the tall candles on the farthest altar. Father sang the Mass. The orchestra and choir were magnificent and carried us through the services. The women on each side of me sang - pure sopranos - and I sang when I knew the words and answered the prayers in my language.

We were all there together, tourists, visitors, bedraggled travelers, and locals in their Sunday best - loden suits and coats and capes and hats). All were welcome and were there to welcome Christmas day.

I was reminded of my ancestors who worshiped in this language and of a similar evening 15 years ago when I sat in a church only 20 miles away from where I sat tonight. Then I was with my oldest child. We had been abandoned by the rest of our group and were waiting for Mass to begin. The pre-Mass organ music had been pretty awful  (I did not blame the others for bailing-out on us), but then we heard a violin, then other instruments tuning up. We became part of the choir with a full (and wonderful) orchestra above our heads playing from the first "Kyrie" to the last strains of Stille Nacht.We passed the light of peace candle-to-candle until the dark church was full of the flickering light.

Tonight the orchestra began with the violin tuning and then I heard the tympani.There was no one to share a look of surprise and pleasure. I had no eldest sitting with me tonight, to hold my hand or give me a kiss of peace or wish me a "Merry Christmas." But on this stille nacht, I felt so close to her and all my children.

Christmas can be like that.

I greeted the sopranos at midnight as services ended and the last notes of Silent Night filled the church. I thanked one of the violinists at the door. Then I walked the three blocks back to my temporary home listening to friends chatting on their way and the peal of the church bells welcoming this morning.

Merry Christmas.

Der Zugspitze

Our walk today was a quick one - through the parkplatz to the train. We were going to the top of Germany - and hoping for clear weather.

The train passed through picturesque towns, still snow-covered. We stopped along the way picking up other travelers and skiers. and we took the short cable car trip to the top. Well, almost to the top. We still had a series of stairs to climb.



The train up to the cable car.

Even we can follow this diagram.

Train continues fo fill up.

Out the windw we can see the cable for the cable car. Look closely and see a car just above the trees.

 

View of the mountains as we go up in the cable car.

View of the mountais and the cable.

I felt the altitude, or the cold, or the weariness of many stairs over the past week and lagged behind the rest.

The wind was blowing hard - moving the loose snow. The pavement was icy-slick in spots. But a hundred or more people were already at the summit of the Zugspitze - some taking photos, some trying to stop their children from running, some walking their dogs, but all as thrilled as we were that it was a clear bright day and we could see "forever."

Not a fan of heights, I still managed to observe the sights without venturing too close to the edge.

It was beautiful.

At the top of Germany. Everyone is looking out or taking photos.

The cross marks the summit.

It is hard for me to stand at the railing.

 

But I do.

Diagram tells us where we are.

Christmas tree in the coffee shop. It looked a little crazy with one giant gold decoration among smaller silver...

We stopped for coffee and conversation in the summit restaurant, then (after a rude "Is impossible!" from a man on the Austrian side) traveled down the mountain on a different, seemingly smaller and much longer cable car. The final train leg was fast - I suppose it makes sense that it is faster coming down.

It seemed to me that, while beautiful at the top, the cable cars may have been the part of the trip that is most exciting and give the best views.

[I am not sure if it is recorded throughout, but there was a theme running through each day - adventure followed by a cup of rich German coffee.]

Getting on the smaller cable car down.

Hang on.

Here we go.

DH looking out the window of thr cable car.

View of the mountains out the window.

Headed down the mountain.

Moving fast.

Lake is getting closer. We are almost down.

Out the window of our final train ride back. The curve of the railroad track can be seen on the left (and maybe a glimpse of the engine).

Notes:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zugspitze

Fussen et al. (not Ettal)

Today was a day of physical ups and downs. We hiked up long and short entrances to homes of kings, stopping along the way to avoid tourists and horses and slippery spots in the snow. These royal approaches through the woods and along streams rushing and gurgling with the runoff from melting snow were challenging in some instances, but worth the effort. I often found myself lagging behind - sometimes out of breath, but often just trying to catch a certain image.

DH, MC and LD on the way up the mountain.

Getting closer to Castle Neuschwanstein

Neuschwanstein





We took this path before in the winter (1997), but it is now verboten.



Some take the horses up and/or down.



Looking down the side of the mountain mid-climb.



Small waterfall of melting snow run-off.



Marienbrucke Bridge - overlooks Neuschwanstein Castle



Gorge and waterfall below Marienbrucke - a deer was walking in the snow along the water.



Enlargement of  previous photo showing deer in the snow at the upper right hand side.



Architectural detail - Neuschwanstein



Detail of stained glass - Neuschwanstein

Neuschwanstein seen from Hohenschwangau Castle

Moss covered ground at the base of birches (?) near Hohenschwangau




Hohenschwangau Castle



Waterway near Linderhof



Icy paths made it clear why Linderhof is the "summer palace" and why most parts were closed.



Another waterway near Linderhof.  I wish I could have captured the sounds of the rushing water.

We saw cats and dogs in and out of the snow and even spied a deer far below alongside the stream at the foot of one castle mount. We passed waterways with ducks and swans (fitting as two of the palaces were built by and were the very temporary homes of the Swan King). 


Cat exits woods as we walk towards the castle.

Ducks on the lake at Linderhof

Swans at Linderhoff

Ludwig's swans

Crows cried out in the woods. And these were woods unlike any we see at home. They are old and deep with trees and plants we do not know. They are thick with brambles and carpeted with moss green from the cold damp weather.

Trees rooted in the sky

Woods

More woods

Our journeys inside the buildings were up and down winding staircases and through muraled, gilded, and curtained rooms with other wanderers from Australia, New Zealand, Canada, Romania, and Bavaria as well as people whose origin we did not learn. Some asked questions. Others merely observed as did we.

We coffeed in rooms unfinished, mere skeletons of what might have been with only rough sketches on the walls (still waiting after more than 125 year for completion).

We did not walk across the Marienbrucke this trip. Two of the approaches to the bridge were blocked. The third would have unreasonably delayed our planned travels.

We did visit another painted church. We had been there before, some fifteen years ago. We stopped on a whim and were amazed to see the interior of this small white-washed building. We stopped there on purpose this day to discover many changes. There are car parks, a coffee shop, and souvenir shops. We remember a building basically set apart, by itself in its simplicity.

They use smokeless candles now to protect the paintings and holy objects. I lit two.




Wieskirche altar

Choir loft

Carvings on the front pew.

On either side of the altar were prayer rooms. No photos could be taken, but their contents remain engraved in my heart and mind. Along the iron scroll-work separating the room from the main altar were hung rosaries, framed notes, drawings, photographs, and tiny shrines - all offerings. Most were thank yous (danke) though some were pleas (bitte) and blank pads and pens were left before kneelers for visitors/supplicants to use.

I marveled at the faith displayed, like the faith of those who built the churches, carved the statues and pillars and painted the religious scenes and those who now lovingly repair and protect these treasures.

This evening we walked through our temporary home town to see the Christmas market's last evening. We almost missed it as the merchants were packing up their wares and closing up their stalls. Tomorrow is Christmas eve. Other business awaits.




Additional things:

Mother sings in Russian to her child outside of the chappel at Linderhoff. I took the photo to remember that sweet moment.

Notes: All of these articles contain the history and better photos of the actual places visited: Neuschwanstein Castle, Hohenschwangau Castle, Linderhof Palace and the Wieskirche.

1) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neuschwanstein
2) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hohenschwangau_Castle
3) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wies_Church
4) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Linderhof_Palace

Further notes: Neuschwanstein Castle is the subject of a family joke. As mentioned we made this trip 15 years ago. We arrived on Christmas Eve 1997 to find the castle was purportedly closed. We hiked the trail anyway. And therein begins a story we do not often tell and which will not be told here. (On this trip we visited the castles on December 23. No fools we.)

But I thought there should be some joke explained. The "jest" in the title? There is a monastery at Ettal near the town where we stayed for most of our trip. DH remembers his parents taking the tour with him and that they would not allow him to try the beverage made there. We have driven through Ettal more than a dozen times, but have never stopped. We didn't stop this time. But we did go to Fussen to visit the kings (or at least their palaces).