In München ...

... but for only a few hours. Trains No. 6 and 7 have carried me into the city and back while we are staying at Unterschleißheim. I had to make the most of this short visit because we shan't have time for sightseeing here during our onward journey tomorrow.

On purpose, I didn't get out of the train until I reached Marienplatz, the best starting point for any walk through München. At the S and U signs in my picture is the station exit. 

Nearby is the famous, year-round farmers' market, the Viktualienmarkt, where I went next, its stalls full of intriguing smells and colours and unusual things for sale, such as the wooden ducks and fruit bearing orange tree shown below, opposite the saure Gurken:

With frequent references to the street map I'd picked up, I then found my way via the famous Hofbräuhaus (didn't go in) and behind the princely Residenz to the Hofgarten, looking dull at this time of year with bare branches and the fountains covered. The pathways were muddy today. I'd have to wait until May to see the chestnut trees in full, pink bloom. Its symmetrical layout is still attractive.

 As I emerged from the Hofgarten, I could hear shouting from a loud-speaker and cheers from a crowd in the Franz-Joseph-Platz, so out of curiosity I went to see what was happening. It being Friday, a German school strike For The Future of our planet was in full swing, with some people of my age supporting it. I stayed and watched for a while. Directed from two students standing on a red truck and sharing a megaphone, the youngsters were staging a die-in: "Everyone run and lie on the ground, and when I tell you to get up, get up and sing Power to the People. You'll know the words, or if you don't, you'll soon pick them up!"

Having symbolically lain down and been resurrected, the students and their supporters then processed elsewhere, some of them dragging the truck along by means of a strong rope.

"Climate Justice! Keep it in the ground!"

Once they had all moved off, I walked in the other direction wearing a smile, and bought myself a strong coffee and slice of Apfelstrudel upstairs at the Café Maelu in the Theatiner Passage: I'd been there before, a posh place, akin to the Café Mantovani on Murray Street in Ottawa.

From there it was a longish walk round the back of the Frauenkirche onto Kaufingerstraße (finding the Dirndl and Lederhosen store closed for renovations) and so to Karlsplatz with the imposing Palace of Justice opposite. Behind the Justizpalast is the Alter Botanischer Garten, which to my delight had real spring flowers blooming under the trees: snowdrops and winter aconites. Some trees were already bearing spring blossoms too. And the sun was coming out! I sat on a bench for a while, not feeling cold at all.

My destination for the afternoon was an art museum I'd never visited on my previous visits to Munich, the Lenbachhaus, a fine example of Bauhaus architecture. It houses a large permanent collection of paintings from the school of art known as Der Blaue Reiter, named after a picture painted by Kandinsky in 1903. Rather than read all about this from me, because I'm beginning to think I ought to be asleep in bed instead of typing, click on the link above to learn more. I felt thoroughly excited by what I found in this museum, as I've seen exhibitions of art by these same artists elsewhere and appreciate it. Nowhere have I ever before seen so many paintings by Kandinsky in one place.

This is from a very early animated film, created by Lotte Reiniger in 1926.
It is The Adventures of Prince Achmed, a story based on ideas from the 1001 nights.

Three Kandinskys in a row. There were Kandinsky paintings galore.

Another interpretation of an Archangel,
this one by Paul Klee, a friend of the Munich artists

Stairway decoration at the Lenbachhaus

"You are an enthusiastic one, aren't you?" comments my husband, after reading this blogpost.

Pictures of Ulm

Before my impressions of Ulm get taken over by impressions of other places, here are some more of my photos, taken yesterday.

In the Fischerviertel

Schachtelboot decorating the Zunfthaus der Schiffleute

Rowing boat on the Donau

Neue Straße, Ulm, seen from the bridge between the Kunsthalle on the right and the Ulmer Museum

Model of the Minster (without tall spire) and surroundings as in the 18th century

Portrait of Barbara Kluntz of Ulm, 1661-1730, a contemporary of J S Bach, with one of her compositions

In the lanes (Gassen) near the Minster

Rabengasse

In a public exhibition space was a poster about Smart Gardens of the future

A corner of the massive construction site near Ulm station

Minster choir stalls with their amazing 15th century carvings by Jörg Syrlin.
The face on the left appears to be Jesus, with his crown of thorns, speaking to a gentleman of Ulm.

In the stalls opposite are female figures, with likewise expressive faces.

Carved female figure, leaning on the altar rail.

St. Christopher depicted on the pillar, with the nave beyond.

Front view of the Archangel Michael
(see my earlier blogpost)

Late 14th century Virgin and Child

Late 14th century Pieta carving.

That last image reminded me immediately of Käthe Kollwitz' sculpture "Mutter mit totem Sohn", of 1937:

Trains 4 and 5

These trains will bring us back through München to Unterschleißheim. I'm starting to write this post on the ICE 519 from Dortmund which we boarded at Ulm this evening, Chris and Dave having met me at the station with half an hour to spare, by the blue metal chairs opposite the newsagent's.

"Rommelfiguren" --- pottery models of local people
from the late 18th and early 19th century,
made by members of the Rommel family

Model of Ulm as it looked in the late 18th century

I walked a lot again, today, explored inside the Minster once more and visited the historical galleries of the Stadtmuseum, finding among other eye-catching artefacts some small scale, lovingly constructed models of the city as it was in the 17th and 18th centuries, and of the people who lived here in those days: see above. I also visited the Fischerviertel again, where last night I'd eaten a poached trout at the eponymous Forelle, a pretty spot by night and by day. A couple of girls were rowing strenuously up the river, against the current. The sun was out and I heard birds singing.

-----

This evening's train ride to München seemed to go by in a flash, all of us busy on our laptops for the duration, but then we wasted time trying to find somewhere for a sit-down supper at, or below, the station. In the end we gave up and took the escalator down to the underground station, whence we knew the S1 (our Train No. 5 on this trip) would depart for Unterschleißheim. It did, after I'd worked out, just in time, that we were not waiting for it on the correct platform. Had the men been left to their own devices they could well have set off from the neighbouring platform in the opposite (wrong) direction. We reached Unterschleißheim at about 7:30 p.m., pleased to notice that the red and blue lights illuminating our prebooked hotel, the Star Inn, were visible from the station exit. We still had to check in, find our rooms and then somewhere for supper. Unterscheißheim is a quiet little place. I found the Onassis Restaurant right next door to the hotel, but the tables were discouragingly all occupied. Chris and Dave started talking about searching elsewhere instead, until I put my foot down and had us wait till a table was ready. The waiter said we'd have "only two Greek minutes" to wait. Greek minutes are a little longer than the normal ones, but soon enough we were shown to our seats, and the food came promptly, a delicious and hearty Greek meal complete with Bier vom Faß as well as shot glasses containing ούζο in animated surroundings. I am not entirely sober, as I record this.

In Ulm (continued)

We discovered a very comfortable Italian coffee house on Monday to which I returned today *, on the Küfergasse, where the waiter serves you saying, "Prego, signora!"

False alarm newsflash: the coffee machine in our hotel room has been replaced, so now I'm all set to write this post.

Wirtshaus zur Bretzel by day

Last night, in company with Dave from England, we met Dominik at a restaurant of his choice, the Wirtshaus zur Bretzel on the Ulmergasse where all the waitresses wear dirndls. Dominik is from south Germany, and this place served Bavarian specialities, so he was happy with the menu. He told us about Maultaschen, the dumplings in which people used to conceal the meat that as good Catholics they weren't supposed to eat on Fridays, and ate one in der Brühe, served in a clear broth.

In spite of the jetlag, Chris had to set off for work early today, catching the tram with Dave and Dominik to Ulm's Science Park on the edge of town, where the meetings are taking place. Meanwhile I had time for a long and leisurely breakfast reading the local paper, the Südwest Presse, before setting out to explore. I walked the length of Schillerstraße as far as the Donauschwäbisches Zentralmuseum, the DZM, where an exhibition about migration, called Koffer-Geschichten, suitcase stories, is currently on offer. The stories are about the Donau-Schwaben, the people of Swabia who had migrated down the River Danube in the course of the last six centuries and who in many cases had migrated back to Germany after the 2nd World War.

Schachtelboot Ulma, outside the museum

Outside the museum lies a large wooden boat called the Ulma, the last of its kind to be constructed, a symbolic vessel, because the boat has not sailed away like its predecessors. People used to scoff at these boats, calling them box-boats, because they were crudely made, like Mississippi rafts, but they have a phenomenal history. The first wave of emigrants down the Danube went to help fight off the forces of the Ottoman Empire in Vienna in the 1680s; when the Muslims had been repulsed, peaceful settlers followed downstream, generation after generation of country people who clung to their Swabian traditions, but also picked up some central European characteristics, such as the regional vocabulary, different farming techniques, clothes, religious observances and cooking habits. Each display at the exhibition showed a different aspect of this gradual change. The Schwäbisch-speaking migrants settled in an area they called Die deutsche Türkei, a region also known as the Banat, centred on Timișoara, a city Chris and I have visited ourselves. They mixed with the people of different backgrounds in that area and were sometimes confused with the Roma.

View of a German settlement before the war, in central Europe

Hungarian Germans in wartime

Detail from "Deutsche Ansiedler errichten den Ort
Kudritz, 1739", painted in 1996 by Jakob Rosenberger

The painting above reminds me of Kurelik's paintings of Ukrainian settlements in western Canada.

Festival hats, decorated with hand made flowers

As time went by, the Donau-Schwaben became more central European than German, although their loyalties at the start of the 2nd World War still lay with Germany, Nazi Germany unfortunately. Their sons joined German Youth rallies like the Hitler-Jugend in Germany. A poignant part of the exhibition shows photos of what Banat was like just before that war, peaceful country scenes recollected in a spirit of nostalgia. When the war came to an end these people became refugees, having to hurry back to Germany by whatever means they could manage (in horse drawn wagons covered with flour sacks hastily stitched together for a roof) lest they be apprehended by the Russians or their sympathisers and sent to concentration camps in Yugoslavia. By the river in Ulm is a memorial to those who died in captivity (see photo). The ribbon on the right says "Gedenkt der Opfer von Zwangsarbeit und Deportation" (remembering the victims of forced labour and deportation). Once the lucky ones reached Germany with their pathetically small suitcases, there was nowhere for them to live. They had become outsiders in their original homeland.

Trail by the Danube

Walking along the bank of the Donau, I soon reached Ulm's Fischerviertel, with its charming, early 16th century houses. One had a mural showing an old view of Belgrade, one of the boat-people's destinations; another was the Zunfthaus, headquarters of the boatmens' guild. The houses were quirky --- the Schräges Haus, the Schmales Haus (crooked house, narrow house) --- many shuttered windows overlooking the little canals criss-crossed with old bridges. I think I saw a kingfisher dart underneath one of the stone bridges with a flash of blue wings.

Zunfthaus der Schiffsleute

Having explored the winding, cobbled streets of the Fischerviertel (we had supper there later, at the Forelle restaurant, a whole poached trout with buttered potatoes in my case --- Forelle means trout) I continued along the riverside as far as the Metzgerturm, an old stone watchtower in the city's medieval walls, thence up the hill to the Rathaus, where a plaque on the wall commemorates Kepler's publication of Tycho Brahe's star catalogue that had taken decades to complete. Presumably out of sheer frustration, Kepler finally had it printed at his own cost.

Houses by the Danube

Metzgerturm on the right

Street leading up the Rathaus

* Mostly written on Wednesday, finished on Thursday morning.