A Chirstmas Camino Collage

A Christmas wish for those met on the camino. It is surprizing how deep an impression encounters made, even after the most fleeting of meetings. Conversations I barely remembered I had have somedays provided me with a lot to think about. Also surprising is the strong image I have of so many people for whom I have no photo…

Trinacria

Up at 4:15am Helsinki time (6 pm Olympia time). Veera accompanied me to the near-by bus stop to catch the first 615 back to the airport.  I am so happy to have had this opportunity to reconnect with her, and to meet her family. The long line in front of the KLM desk made me glad I had checked my luggage already. Bought a coffee and downed the last of Eija’s Karjalanpiirakka before boarding the plane to retrace my flights to Amsterdam and then Seattle.

The flight to Seattle was interminable. My mind was still so busy going over the gamut of different experiences I could not sleep, I couldn’t write. The woman on the aisle promptly fell asleep and I could not get up and walk. It would seem like hours had passed yet the screen showing time to destination would drop by only 10 or 15 minutes.

Finally… We were in Seattle. It took an hour for the checked luggage to finally arrive on the luggage carousal. And going through customs I was forced to give up the milky white Weisswurst from Doris. Rats!

Cherie was waiting to drive me home. I talked her ear off. We stopped at the new licensed Dancing Goats in Lacey. Chris was there and it was good to see Windy and Lauren, former co-workers.  The space was very comfortable. Had coffee and one of Lauren’s yummy scones. And we talked some more.

It was after 4:00 by the time Cherie dropped me at my doorstep. I could hear the little monsters, my two fur shedding year-old cats running to the door as I put the key in the lock. To date they have not developed the common cat trait of being miffed when I’ve been away for awhile and purred and enthusiastically furred my leg to welcome me. One does get attached.

Andreas and Muxia: Posing is not their speciality

Trudy had warned me that my left rear tire was completely flat, so I called AAA for some air and headed off to the local tire store where they replaced my tires.

Alley

En route to the tire store I checked to see if Trinacria, Olympia’s Sicilian restaurant, was open as it was Monday. Eugenio answered my knock at the alley door and assured me he would be open. There are not always a lot of customers on Monday’s, and he uses the time to prep for the week. I left the car to get repaired, walked along Budd Bay to Bayview for cards for ‘Thank Yous’, and then headed back to Trinacria. I’ve been thinking of it ever since Wolfgang, Doris and I ate at the little Sicilian restaurant in Berlin. I love the food here. Not to buck habit I had a glass of red wine and my fav, aglio e olio. Eugenio’s always warm welcome seemed like an extension of all of the other warm welcomes I’ve had recently. It was nice to be here (and good to see that it filled up as the evening went along.) As always after a trip, the things I love most about Olympia seemed fresh yet familiar. The yellowing of the trees along Capitol Way, the soft gray mist, a new mural on the side of “The Bread Peddler” building. The tide was high, and the boats along Budd Bay gently bumped the docks. There are salmon running under the 5^th Street Bridge. It began raining harder while I was eating, and when I got home you could hear the rain on the roof. Wow, what an intense couple of weeks.

Promise of things to come

Layla, Me, Anna-Maija

The sun was brilliant this morning. As this will be the last visit to the island for the season Eija and Erkki closed up the cabins for winter, and early afternoon found us put-putting our way back to Mikkeli. Today it was just as peaceful and beautiful and warm in the sunlight. I sat in the bow the whole way and just watched the shore slowly pass. We needed to catch a 1:07 train. It was really tight. Erkki dropped us at the dock nearest the station with less than 10 minutes till the train left. It was a very quick good-by to Eija and Erkki. I have been overwhelmed by how kind they have been to me and how warmly they have welcomed me.
We had to rush to catch the train. Fortunately the station was just over the tracks from the dock, and the train was a few minutes late.

Lingering over coffee and desserts at Anna-Maija's house

Next stop was Lahti where I was going to see some of the seven lively Finns, a group of women I met on the first couple of weeks on my Camino in Spain. As a person traveling alone, I was impressed by how well they seemed to work together as a group. A nice balance of personal time and group cooperation. The always seemed very strong and positive and I first ventured into a group acquaintance with them when Maarten and I joined them in their nightly stretching exercises at Viana. It took me a while to get their names straight – I only did a day or two before they left.
On their very last day I had a very lovely walk and talk with Anna-Maija. She is the person I have been most in contact with since then, and she is the person who had arranged for Sane and Layla to meet with us at her house. I really enjoyed getting together with them. They all speak perfectly understandable English, but they are not all confident about speaking. I realized that most of my interactions had been one on one on the Camino, and it is a little trickier speaking in a group. But I did just fine and I was so glad to be there, and learn a little more about them, which have included some recent major changes as well as the more mundane day to day activities, their lives as wives, mothers, career-women.
Up until last Friday Layla had a restaurant, and has no specific plans for the future. Anna-Maija’s husband died recently. Because of this she has been much on my mind the last couple of months. The future is now full of an overwhelming number of challenges and opportunities, which seems must be rather scary. But as in Spain, I was impressed with the positive attitude they seemed to have towards the possibilities. I loved the huge, beautiful, sunflowers that dominated the photos of Anna-Maija’s husband’s  funeral.
All three are thinking of returning and finishing the Camino, Anna-Maija maybe next year from Roncesvalles  (about the same time as Deb from Olympia… hmmm…) and Sane and Layla in 2013. Layla also told some very enticing stories about some long-distance biking and cross-country skiing excursions that she has taken which excited some possibilities in my imagination.
We talked about these and other topics over some wonderful mushroom soup made by Layla.

Anna-Maija has worked as a journalist, and was just taking a course in photography so as to be able to also supply photos to accompany her stories when she returned from the Camino. I’ve seen some of them on her very nice blog, “Ruusuvesi” which Google translates as “Rosewater” in English. She has lovely photos and usually Google Translate has done a good enough job that I can figure out the subject matter of her writing. It really varies from post to post.
There have been several themes that I have run into over and over on this trip. There is family, there is the Camino, and there has been the theme of division and destruction by war and it’s reverberations years later. Just two days ago I posted a story on Karjalanpiirakka, and I told a (very) little of the history of the Karjalan people, who were divided between Finland and Russia at the end of the 2nd world war when Russia reclaimed part of Finland.
Over the dinner table Anna-Maija began discussing a story she was writing on a trip that she had recently taken to visit Karjalan areas in Russia. What luck that virtually the only thing I know about Finland would happen to be the subject of her discussion! She invited us up to her office to look at the photographs. They were beautiful, but the hardship they depicted also sobering. I felt that Anna-Maija had been moved by her time there.
All too soon we were saying good-bye and Layla was driving us to the bus for Helsinki, and I am facing the end of this incredible trip.
Because I am taking such an early flight tomorrow, and the bus will only get me to the airport about an hour before the flight leaves, Veera suggested checking my backpack tonight. As the bus conveniently stops at the airport, it was pretty easy. Then it was the by now quite familiar 615 bus back to town.

Very, very tired. But a good day. Lots to think about from the beauty of Hameensaari and the lake this morning to again profound awareness of the good fortune I have had to meet and spend time on this whole trip such with such welcoming, amazing, interesting people. How comfortable and easy they have made it for me. There have not been words – in any language – to adequately express “Thank You”.

Me & Anna-Maija

Saimaa, our boat Pönkkini, and Veera

We woke up to overcast skies – pretty gray and in the 40s instead of yesterday’s sunny record breaking 70s. The plan today was to head to Hameensaari, a small island in the huge lake of Saimaa. It is not huge in a sea-like Lake Huron way, but a narrow, multi armed Puget Sound sort of way (though not on the ocean). By boat it is about an hour and 15 minutes from Mikkeli.
Erkki’s family has spent all their summers on the island since he was a child in the 1950′s (he is a year or so younger than me). He and each of his sisters have a rustic summer cabin on the island, plus a small assortment of saunas, storage sheds, root cellars. They are the only inhabitants.

The "big" cabin, Veera and Eija

Erkki left the apartment a couple of hours before us to get the boat ready, some neighbors stopped by in their car to carry all of our luggage, water and other supplies to the boat, and Veera, Sebastian and I headed out on foot. Past a graveyard, where a crowd dressed in black was gathered for a funeral, through a little forest, past one of the many dog parks I have seen and into town. Small area but a boulevard, bustling downtown. The large block filling-buildings were filled with supermarkets, department stores and a warren of smaller shops. We bought food for the island and continued down the boulevard to the dock where the smallish boat was gassed up and ready to go. Vaguely reminiscent of the African Queen it feels highly functional, sort of a floating RV, the perfect sort of boat to be slowly put-putting its way to an island with minimalist accommodations.
The skies were still leaden and heavy as we made our way south, but every now and again a ray of light would break through and illuminate a stand of golden birches amidst the somber pine forests. Sun or not it was beautiful and in spite of the weather forecast, not particularly cold.

Veera, Erkki, and I watch the sunset

The island when we arrived was practically perfect. Like many of the islands we had passed it was birch and pine, and I think fir. Veera said there are 6 types of birches on the island, including 2 that are fairly rare. Erkki started a fire in the sauna. On the other side of the wall is a small bedroom where they put me and Veera because the sauna would keep this room warmer than the other buildings. Finally I get to use my little camino fleece sleeping sac and silk sheet bag that I have carried all over Europe. While it was still light we had dinner in the largest cabin, cabbage rolls that Eija had made in advance. Afterwards Erkki showed us his favorite haunts from childhood. There are lots of little paths threading from one cabin to another through the forest. There were many types of mushrooms including chanterelles. There are several small beaches and rock overlooks. At scenically situated spots are benches and tables and hammocks and tree houses and fire pits. The whole island, which is maybe 400-500 meters long and 200 meters wide, has been incorporated into a comfortable living space. Just before the sunset we arrived at the south end of the island where we scramble up a huge rock and just sat and watched the pink tinged clouds.
Then it was into the sauna.   Feeling very warm and relaxed I came out wrapped in a large white terrycloth robe and lay down on a bench, looking upwards I realized the clouds were clearing and the stars were coming out. By the time it was completely dark the stars were brilliant, the Milky Way splashed across the sky. Veera, Eija and I left the forest and went and lay on the dock where the view was uninterrupted and talked softly. It was exceedingly satisfying. Eija and Erkki speak perfectly good English, but often in a middle of a story they get swept along by the tale and revert to Finnish letting Veera translate so as to be sure I understand. I don’t mind at all because I am growing more and more to love the way the language sounds. All those aas and iis and ees add up to a very melodic sound. While we were contemplating the vastness of creation Erkki built a bon-fire and when the deck got too cold we wrapped ourselves in blankets and continued just being together watching the fire burn.
This has been an incredible trip. I feel a sense of overwhelming gratitude to the people along my route who have gone out of their way to make my time at each place be special and unique. At each stop I have felt strongly a sense of place and of the story and personalities of the people I have been with and the connection between the two. I would not have traded a single moment of it for anything. Sitting around so quiet and so comfortable and so welcomed by Veera and her family was the perfect setting for the coming transition home. I am amazed at how I have been blessed.

Grinding the Sea Salt

I have already described eating Karjalanpiirakka, but today I got to see them prepared and learned a little more about their history. The Carelians are a group of Finns who live in eastern Finland, along the Russian border. After WWII – big surprise – their traditional territory was split and part is now in Russia. (Veera’s stepmother Eija’s grandparents originally lived in what is now in Russia but relocated further west.) Karjalanpiirakka literally means Carelian Pies. Today the filling is rice, but historically it was barley. Eija learned to make them from a paternal aunt, but her earliest memories are of her grandmother who every week cooked up a weekly supply. Eija now likes to make them for special occasions.
First the sea salt was ground using a mortar. (Click on the photo above for a step-by-step photo essay from Salt grinding to breakfast!)
Then the filling was made of rice, milk, salt and water – it is cooked, until it is about the consistency of rice pudding.
The crust is made of salt, rye flour and water, kneaded until well mixed. Half of it was rolled into a ‘log’ about 3/4 ” x 7 inches. A very even log. This was cut in half, and the half was cut again into 4 or 5 pieces. Each was rolled into a small ball, flattened, and on a well floured board rolled out into a thin circle using a type of rolling pin that comes to a point at each end and fatter in the middle looking like two round 3-d triangles joined together.
A little plop of filling goes in the center of the crust. The edges are carefully folded up over the edge of the filling and pinched into little indentions using finger tips. The uncooked slipper is slipped onto the cookie sheet, then on to the next one.

Eija with Karjalanpiirakka fresh from the oven

It was quite late when we were doing this, talking together about Finland since 1917, how technology has changed in our lifetimes, Finnish food. It is a labor intensive process, and through probably mostly done alone, must be more fun when done in a small group of friends or family. Eija commented that it was a bit odd to be doing it at 10:00 at night, talking about history.  Because of the stories she told I think she strongly feels the presence of her long dead grandmother when she is making them, so perhaps it was Erkki, Sebastian, Veera, Aija, me and her grandmother crowded around the table while she and Veera rolled and shaped the slippers.
Once the sheet was full, it was popped into the oven and baked.
When removed each slipper is dipped into a pan of hot water and melted butter, put on a plate which was put on the table and covered with a white cloth.

Hot and waiting to be eaten

I think it is possible that they are often served with milk, as Eija asked if I wanted a glass.

Erkki, Veera, Karjalanpiirakka and Egg butter

Then we ate the hot Karjalanpiirakka!
Yum!
Here is  Veera’s translation of Eija’s recipe:

Karjalanpiirakka recipe
Preheat oven to 525F degrees. (275 celsius)

Crust:
2 dl (6.763 fl Oz) of  cold water
2 tea spoons of salt
5 ½ dl (2.325 cups) of rye flour

Filling:
5dl (16,91 :D fl oz) of water
3dl (10, 58 oz) of rice (porridge rice)
1l (2,113 pints) of milk
1 ½ teaspoons of salt

Filling: Mix the rice in boiling water until water has absorbed, (around 7 -10 minutes).
Add milk and let the porridge simmer for around 30 minutes stirring every now and then. Season the porridge with salt.

Mix the ingredients of the crust by hand. Form a long bar of the dough and divide it into 25 pieces and roll them into little balls.
Flatten the balls by hand and roll the flat pieces of dough with a rolling pin to thin flat crusts using flour to prevent them from sticking to the table. (crusts are suppose to be around and littele smaller than a cd) Fill the crusts with porridge leaving plenty of room on two sides (but not top and bottom) to turn two sides of the crusts on top and pinch the crust with fingertips in the filling first from the center to top and then from center to bottom. Cook the piirakkas in the oven for 15-20 minutes.

Dip the baked piirakkas in hot milk or water with melted butter mixed in.
Collect them in a container and cover with cloth and let them soften for a little while. Serve the piirakkas with warm eggbutter. (Hard boiled eggs crushed and mixed with butter)

Doris and Wolfgang Oly Style

Wolfgang was waiting for me at the Berlin-Spandau station – wearing his Olympia Harbor Days T-shirt! In a replay of my initial arrival in Berlin we headed for a beer at the Spinner-Brücke. The weather continues to be fantastic, and sitting outside, talking, was so pleasant it was hard to leave. But we did. I checked in and left my bags at the hotel and we headed for Potsdam.

Me at Cecilienhof, site of the Potsdam Conference

First stop, Cecilienhof, site of the Potsdam conference in which Britain, the US and Russia determined the fate of Post-War Germany. Wolfgang has heard it all before, so he found a non-smoke free bench, where he parked himself while I toured the building. The free audio guide and displays in German, English and Russian explained that politically limiting Germany- which prior to 1939 included areas along the Baltic coast including Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia – was high on the list. Here I learned that it was this conference that determined that the Poles would be moved from the east and the Germans moved from the area east of the Oder River. I was trying to move through the castle behind a very large Spanish tour group being lectured to by a woman who spoke very clear Spanish. Since I found I could understand her I switched off my headset and listened to her. Between exhibits she asked me (in German) if I understood Spanish. I managed a ‘Poko, mas que aleman’,  went about half way around with them.
When I emerged from the tour, Wolfgang and I did a walk around the garden around the outside of the building and then paused for the all important tea/coffee/cigarette break at another comfortable outdoor café.

Me at San Souci

Then it was onto Sans Souci, castle/summerhouse of Frederick the Great of Prussia, under whom many rights were granted to the common man. Across the street from the castle is a windmill. Wolfgang told the story that F the G was bothered by the noise of the windmill and wanted the miller to tear it down. Under the recently granted rights the miller sued, citing the fact that he was there first, and won. And the windmill still stands.

Me at the roman bath house

It was getting on in the afternoon so tours were out, and we rambled through the terraced gardens, past the fantastical ‘Chinese’ teahouse, gardeners quarters, roman baths, Charlottenhof Palace and over to the new palace.

Chinese Teahouse

Then hurried back to the car to go get Doris, as I had asked that the two of them go to dinner with me. They chose a small Sicilian restaurant, not much larger than Trinacria.  Again it was lovely sitting outside, and fortunately Doris had brought a couple of light shawls because there were a few pesky mosquitoes.

Doris and Me

We were once again offered a cordial after dinner. Doris and her daughter Stefi both have a life long history of horseback riding, and Doris told me a bit about the programs she is involved with for disabled people and horses. She gave me a booklet on their section of Berlin that includes the web address of her riding organization. Because of the photos she had taken of herself in Wolfgang’s Harbors days T-shirt I left a medium T-shirt for her and the little book on Washington that I had finally located in the side pocket of my backpack.
Next morning at my hotel  I was packed and ready to go at 7:45. When I arrived at their house for breakfast Doris and Wolfgang were both wearing their Olympia shirts and we had the neighbor take a photo of us with ‘nicht sprengen, Linda’, them in their Oly shirts and me carrying my Berlin Bag.

Doris, Linda me and Wolfgang

Breakfast was again delicious, and there were fresh figs, just for me, as well as eggs tucked into their little egg cozy. Haven’t quite developed a taste for Holland-style herring, but liked the other spreads on the yummy dark brown breads.
Web-check-in, ticket-printing, one last beer and conversation at the airport and here I am, already on the descent into Helsinki.

Followup photo from Wolfgang:

Linda's thoughts on the Olympia Tugboat Twins

1880 Apr 21 Adolf Hennig embarking on the Freisia from Hamburg

The Würzburg/Hamburg train was just over an hour late, and as such I was due a partial refund from the DB. Peter and Hannelore had the correct forms waiting for me when I arrived in Hamburg and after a coffee and snack we visited the DB office and I walked out of the train station 12.25€ richer.

Hamburg Rathaus

The weather continues to be absolutely beautiful, sunny, warm, not too hot. We left my luggage in a railway locker (!) and took an open top double decker tour of the Hamburg. Such an interesting city, with distinctly different districts, all of which looked intriguing. They reminded us that in the 60s Hamburg was a hotbed of cutting edge rock and that the Beatles got their start here. Although 110k from the mouth of the Elbe river (about the same distance Olympia is from the Strait of Juan de Fuca) Hamburg is and has historically been a major port and there is a beautiful old brick warehouse district right next to a huge new residential area, that while new was also interesting to look at. It is not yet completed. On the edge of the historic city center full of many beautiful buildings is a lake a la Green Lake or Capitol lake in the midst of a shady green area, 7.5 kilometers around the perimeter. I have been so impressed in Germany with how walker and bicycle friendly it is. Paths are accessible everywhere. You can go long distances in pleasant, shady and safe surroundings, rather than just in a circle or next to a freeway.

Peter and Hannelore were friendly and enjoyable and informative companions, the day was beautiful….

After the tour we took the SBahn out to their house where we relaxed and talked in their lovely garden. Peter has sent seasonal photos of this garden over the years of our correspondence. He is related to Wolfgang and also shares roots in the part of Oststernberg that the Hennigs, Menzes and Schulzs come from. He lived outside of Lagow as a boy and his grandfather had a stable in Sternberg/Torzym and delivered people to more remote locations who arrived
on the train.

In fact, he has about 20 years worth of a publication called ‘Oststernberger Heimatbriefe’ which collects and publishes articles on the area. It is all in German, of course, but I still got quite excited to see a list of Menzes from 1718/1719 living in Grabow, where our Menzes come from. Peter said I should give him a list of names/places and he could scan relevant articles.

It was from Hamburg that Carl Julius Adolf Henning left for the United States in April of 1880 and the port that Ottillie and Wilhelm Kurth (with their brood of 7, recently diminished by the death of 1 ½ year old Fredolina in Pomerania) left on 22 Aug 1892 to return to the US. I wanted to look at the scans of the original documents, but when I went to check it out I discovered I had left my plug adapter at Beate’s and the computer battery was dead. (I was able to find another one at the Hamburg Hauptbahnhof waiting for the train to Berlin so I am not facing electronic device withdrawal).

We walked about a k into the town center, where the small former town hall was turned into a pleasant restaurant. It recently replaced another restaurant so was also new to Peter and Hannelore as well. Yummy meal of chicken wrapped in very thin bacon and served on a bed of ‘feldsalat’. Really, I will check out the Oly Farmer’s market to see if I have missed it there as it tastes wonderful. As in Berlin, after we paid the waiter brought us a small glass of some drink, this bright green, and a mixture of grapefruit and some potent liquor.

Very quiet little town, and though after 9:00 had a warm and pleasant walk home.

Breakfast this am and then off to the station for the return to Berlin. Peter accompanied me to the station to make sure I didn’t get lost. They have been very good to me, and I have enjoyed it.

I thought that as I went from place to place and left my small gifts behind my pack would get lighter, but I am now carrying two bottles of wine from Thüngersheim, a small jar of homemade rhubarb jam, a scarf crocheted by Hannelore, a book on the castle in Lagow, the saucer that I think matches my mother’s china. It has been so warm that I have needed nothing except my two quick dry t-shirts, but the rest of the clothes have come in very
handy to pad and protect the various breakables, which I will have to
check back to Seattle.

Starting the day

Even though the last few days have been relatively relaxed and free of plans, sitting on the train to Hamburg feels like my first chance just to gather all my thoughts together, catch up on postcards (I need to get a few more!), take stock. Did have a lovely day yesterday. We again drove outside of Würzburg, and again took a hiking trail through forests and vineyards to the tiny village of Sommerhausen, somewhat more touristy than Thüngersheim. Some artists settled here in the 60s as well as an actor who started a tiny theater one of the town towers. The walk was marked by a series of informative plaques; they usually had an agricultural note and an artistic note on each one. Because the walk was primarily through vineyards there was a lot of winey information, including a live vine of each of the main types of wine grown here, with plaques identifying their name and heritage. Beate explained that the roses planted at the head of each steeply descending row are planted because both they and the grapes are susceptible to aphids. We passed some folks picking grapes and when Beate told him I was from the US he cut off a couple of clumps of spicy red Silvanias for us. Happily nibbling grapes we continued on. After a coffee and tour of town we headed back up into the dark, wooded hills, passing a wild animal park that Beate says houses foxes, sanglier, deer etc, though we did not see them. As it has been fairly warm, it was wonderful to be walking through the shade of the trees. We paused at a small lake for lunch – leftovers from Sunday night, and cukes, red peppers and carrots. Saw large leaping fish in the lake, circling hawks, later we heard a woodpecker. Back at the car in no time.
Beate had a Drs. Appointment in town in the evening, so we biked into town. We were still on the quest to find the footprint for Wolfgang. New information from him had us going to the Rita Käppele. We found this, but no footprint, and no one had heard of a footprint. While she was off I went back to the media markt store to see if I could this time master the self-serve photo machine to print photos to send to the woman in Poland. After such a long time last time not successful it was a shock to walk out with the photos in 5 minutes. Sat at a cafe, had a sorbet. Watched Würzburg pass. Beate joined me, and later we wandered off to a Franconian Restaurant, where we both had local wine, she had wurst and I had Franconian wedding soup, not so different from Italian wedding soup. The city center crowds were gone when left the restaurant, and so we were able to bike through town enjoying the warm Indian Summer night and along the river to her apartment where I packed for Hamburg and she packed for Paris, as she is heading off to spend time with Virginie, who we all met on our Camino out of Le Puy.

Beate's fathers vineyard

Today we took the car and drove 18k to Thüngersheim, the village of Beate’s parents, where she grew up.

In Beate's father's house: Beate, first day of school

She described it as a typical Franconian village of this area, not the prettiest. It had an old center with St. Michael’s church at its heart inside a village ‘wall’ that was composed of the village houses. Lots of old half-timbered buildings with steep tile roofs. Surrounding this is a much newer suburb of houses built from the 1940/50s with a wave of building in the 70s and a number in the last 10 years. We stopped first at the cemetery where all of the stones are huge and have recent dates, but Beate says the family plots are actually quite deep with several generations below. Both of her parents who died in the last couple of years are buried here.
We then left town to climb up to a ridge that that looped around through forests and fields past the ruins of a mountain stronghold where  Main River Pirates once stashed their loot, past plots of forest that were owned by her father, vineyards owned by her father that she helped plant 30 years ago. At the crest of a hill with a small forest on one side of the road, with her family vineyards on the other is a small storage hut with a porch owned by her family. At one time her grandmother had a garden here. Now the forest is a protected area and gardens are not allowed. No new buildings can be built, but the hut with its fantastic view over the steep vineyards can be maintained.
We hurried down the hill to get to the restaurant in town before it closed at two. We thought we were too late, but actually we were a little too early to eat at the tables set up in front of St. Michaels church as the church was celebrating St. Michaels day, which brought back memories of the San Miguel festival at Navarette.

Pfifferling-Suppe

The restaurant menu offered pfefferling soup. I recognized the name of one of the types of mushrooms we saw being picked in Poland. It was that, a ‘field greens’ (feldsalat) salad, and a plate of venison with quince for lunch. We got the ‘klein’ portion, but even so I was stuffed.
Beate had invited some friends over at 5:00 for dinner and we still had to prepare the onion and plum tarts, so we did not hang around after lunch beyond visiting her parents house. A farmhouse with a barn and barnyard inside the town. Her father went from here to work in his fields each day. I enjoyed the town, the walk and the meal, and the visit to her home.
We got to her apartment in time to get the onions and plums chopped just as Beate’s guests arrived. They were Tina and Andreas and their daughters Marie and Josephine, and Michael and Barbara with their daughter Pippa. I liked them immediately.

Josephine, Barbara, Pippa, Marie, Andreas, Tina, Beate

All except for Josephine who is in third grade and just started English spoke English very well. The ‘To market, to market’ book by Nikki McClure was sitting on the table and Josephine could translate quite a bit of it. Really wish we offered the same to our children in the US. Josephine finally got enough nerve to ask me some questions – what was my hobbies, where was I born, but I don’t think walking was a very interesting answer to the former. Pippa and Marie are just Jillian’s age and I wished she could have been here. Fortunately not all of the evening was in English. Even though I could understand virtually nothing, it felt comfortable and reminded me I was not in the US.
In addition to Beate’s tarts she had filled a couple of plastic bottles with neuwine, a fermented cross between juice and wine, sweet and slightly fizzy. Barbara also brought an onion tart and a bottle of fresh pressed apple juice made from apples from their tree. Tina brought a kettle of pumpkin soup.
It was a nice day and a nice evening.

Flohmarkt

No plans today, what could we do that could only be done on this day? There was a huge flea market at the local church so spent most of the morning browsing the various stalls.

Traditional dress, Beate

Among the treasures that I did not walk away with, a soft animal skin muff (though Beate did walk away with a black one), a traditional dress with white under blouse and a black apron in very good condition – thought of Nancy Tsu,

Karl May Books

a couple of books in the series by Karl May that fired young Wolfgang’s imagination,

a book on Würzburg from 1972, another one very interestingly illustrated, Beate and I were oo-ing and ah-ing over it only to be told it had just been purchased by the other person at the table, some small plates matching the blue design on mom’s teapot- I was tempted to buy some but passed as how would I get them home?? the vendor ran after me and gave me one small saucer for free,

Flohmarkt

a variety of hand coffee grinders… Lots more. The church yard absolutely packed. They had various things to eat.

Waffles

Beate and I went for a powder-sugared waffle, the sections heart-shaped like our waffle iron in Congo.

Main River

In the afternoon we rode bicycles into town taking the paths along the Main River. Castle on the hill with its vineyard skirt ahead of us. Passed a long river cruise ship, currently docked to visit Würzburg.

Beate said they go along the Main and Rhine rivers.

Rathaus

The center of town completely packed when we arrived. The bridge where we had wine last night one solid mass of people. This is rumored to be the last good weekend of the year and everyone is out enjoying the sunshine.

Latte art German Style

We found a little Italian café with a free table on a side alley good for people watching and settled in with a cappuccino and a tea.

Concert at the Käppele

Yesterday the Baroque sanctuary of the Käppele had been closed for a rehearsal of a performance if Bach tonight at 5:00. We retrieved our bikes, nudged our way through the masses on the bridge and headed towards the Käppele. We left our bikes at the bottom of the hill and climbed the hill and steps up to the top. Quite sweaty upon arrival! Just in time for today’s five o’clock bell ringing.

The concert proved to be by a small chamber orchestra, in which four alternating violinists were the featured soloists. The violinists were all high school age. The acoustics were fantastic, the whole room warm and full of sound. It was enjoyable and relaxing, with lots of white marble and gold angels and putti to look at.

It was still warm and sunny for the descent back to the bikes and the scenic ride back to Beate’s apartment. Years since I’ve been on a bike and I loved it.

After dinner looked at Beate’s photos of her Camino this year. Really lovely photos, made my feet long to be off.