Travelogue Preview

17 07 2018

I forgot to mention in my previous post:





WOO HOO~!!!!

Even if it did push me (and my traveling companion) to what are these days my (and his) physical and mental limits.  I’m still in a wheelchair for the most part, and he’s north of 70 years old.  Even if we did operate many of these days on slightly less than optimal sleep and higher than normal adrenaline.  Luckily, in the case of both of us, our health cooperated, nobody got anything close to slowdown sick.

It will take me quite some time to write the full travelogue.  I’ve got a lot of handwritten notes, a heavily marked up road atlas, many computer notepad text file notes, and an indeterminate tally of mental notes to process.  This was a 42-day long epic journey, a whirlwind, a junket, traversing around 2800 miles, over the major parts of two countries and perfunctorily to another four, involving stopping to see at least one attraction in 68 different cities or towns, including multiple days in each of eight different major metropolitan regions, plus three days in a historically important non-metropolitan region, and just passing through many more towns, all with the assistance of 26 different tour guides.  We notched thirteen of the sixteen German “Federal states” (Bundesländer), missing only Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, Thüringen and Saarland, and also all three of the independent cities not part of a state, those being Bremen, Hamburg and Berlin.

I satisfactorily solved what was until this trip an open question about my German ancestral line, which I reasonably expected to do on this trip, (Sneak peek:  Ich bin ein Rheinländer), and I also pretty much solved a long time family mystery originating on my maternal grandfather’s side, relating to my Czech line, which I was not expecting to do on this trip, and never thought would get solved in this world.  The net result is that I have narrowed down my German line to a rather specific geography, and my Czech line to a specific town.  There was the historical significance of almost all of the places I visited — They have deeply rooted histories going back many centuries, making even the oldest American places seem like infants by comparison. A big majority of the German cities we stopped in were/are powerhouses in physics, chemistry, and/or engineering, past and/or present.  So many are that way that it’s easier to count and remember the cities that aren’t.  All the architectural eye candy, so much that my brain would blue screen if you asked me to pick favorites.  Four, count ’em, FOUR, different automobile industry towns, including the city where the modern automobile was born.  June 17, the Sunday I as a Lutheran got to go to church in Luther’s own during what is still the 500th year of the 95 Theses, was the most special fulfilling single day of my life.  World Cup season in a soccer crazy country with a national team that was thought to be a championship contender and was actually the defending champions?  I’ve already told you how electric that was, in spite of this year’s German team being a bust and flaming out.  The sightseeing?  Who doesn’t like sightseeing?  Beethoven, Mozart, Mendelssohn, Wagner, Brahms, etc. — ‘Nuff said.  I even got over my modesty well enough to enjoy a spa day in a spa town.

Then.  There.  Were.  The.  Alps.  O.  M.  G.

The Black Forest was a very worthy follow-up act to The Alps.

Of course, there were downsides.  I alluded to those in my final post in this space while on the trip, from Darmstadt.

I’ve got more than 2200 photos, more than a hundred videos, and twenty audio files, and while all of the audio files and a big majority of the photos/videos have either myself or my travel companion in them, which means I won’t make them public, I’ve got a nice selection of photos/videos that don’t, so I’ve got some room to be choosy.  I should warn you that the pictures and videos don’t do justice to any of their subjects.

All I’m saying is just be patient for that travelogue, peanut gallery.

But I will give you this brief opening taste:

Click to enlarge any of these images.

Lufthansa was our international carrier.  In case you don’t know, the curvey path on this map is indicative of the fact that the straight direct route on the sphere of a world globe, when plotted on a flat Mercator map, will often look counter-intuitively bent.  Layover in ORD, because STL, no longer being a hub for any carrier, and serving a no longer important metropolitan area, does not have any regular direct flights to FRA, and hardly any regular direct international flights to/from anywhere.  Frankfurt instead of Berlin, because Frankfurt is the major airline hub for Germany, for various historical and currently relevant reasons, which I’ll get to in the travelogue.

Made with Google Maps Pedometer, which also easily allowed me to know how far in miles we traversed over this loop.  Clockwise starting from Frankfurt.  This is pretty close to the exact path we took.  Any slight differences?  Well, this is close enough for Bundestag work.  Making this map was a fussy enough job and took me a few tries.  If anything, the main differences between this map and the reality of our path is that this map gives the impression we used the Autobahns for intercity travel almost solely.  In reality, for several significant stretches, our tour guide took back roads and side roads instead of the Autobahn.  We took the paths less traveled by, and that made all the difference.  Also, our path around the Luther Region, and around the Black Forest foothills (Pforzheim to Offenburg) was more haphazard and itinerant than the map suggests;  in the case of the Black Forest, we actually took circuitous roads through it so we could experience some of the Black Forest’s unique wonder.

Close-up on our July 2 path, that day was the climax day of the whole voyage, and the absolute longest in both time and distance we traveled in any one day, and the most stunningly beautiful single day of the entire voyage, (remember, Alps OMG).  I got our Salzburg to Garmish-Partenkirchen to Fussen path much more precisely indicated in this map compared to the larger voyage map.

A more precise zoom-in view of our Black Forest circuitousness, on June 6, 7 and the first part of 8.  Again, this is pretty close to accurate.


3/4: Frankfurt
5/6: Rhine-Ruhr Region; Venlo, Netherlands
7: Munster; Osnabruck; Oldenburg
8: Bremen
9/10: Hamburg
11: Hannover
12: Braunschweig; Wolfsburg; Helmstedt (former BRD-DDR border checkpoint); Magdeburg; Brandenburg
13/14: Berlin (incl. Potsdam)
15: Frankfurt (Oder); Slubice, Poland; Rzepin, Poland
16: Berlin
17/18/19: Luther Region
20: Dresden
21: Usti; Prague
22: Prague
23: Ceske Budejovice; Cesky Krumlov
24: Prague
25: Pilsen
26: Nuremberg
27: Ingolstadt
28/29: Munich
30: Rosenheim


1: Salzburg, Austria
2: Garmisch-Partenkirchen; Fussen
3: Kempten; Memmingen; Ulm (passing through Vils, Austria)
4/5: Stuttgart
6: Pforzheim; Ettlingen; Rastatt
7: Baden-Baden
8: Offenburg; Kehl; Strasbourg, France
9: Strasbourg, France
10: Lauterbourg, France; Karlsruhe
11/12: Rhine-Neckar Region; Limbach
13: Darmstadt
14: Frankfurt

If you want to ask me about one or more of these places, or any other reasonable sort of question about the trip, use the comment section, and I’ll give you a brief sort of summary answer.  Though I plan on keeping most of my cards under the deck until the full travelogue.

You may also remember from one of the very few posts I wrote here during the trip, that I made an unlisted and unanticipated but very personally relevant stop in the Czech Republic.  That city remains unlisted here in both the text itinerary and on the map, and will be unmentioned in the travelogue, and as usual, I’ll tell you the wherefores and whys only if I know you and trust you.


If just the preview of the travelogue is this long, and the sample sized tidbits I gave you on the trip, as long as they were, is any indication, then you can see how the full official travelogue is going to be more like a dissertation.  I’m probably going to have to slice it up in chapters, write and post one or a few at a time.


I need a vacation from this vacation.


Fulfillment and Transcendence

17 07 2018

Your Blogmeister’s Secret Hideout

A month and a half ago, “fulfillment” was merely a word in the dictionary to me.

Now, it is a soul-deep experience.

This epic voyage didn’t just meet my reasonable expectations, and it didn’t just equal my wildest dreams, and it was more than just the defining experience of a lifetime, more than a pilgrimage, and it was even beyond soul stirring.

It was transcendent.

And for the first time in my life, I have truly come home.  Sure, I’ve returned home countless times, but now I’ve come home.  I also now realize that I have a future because I have a past.

Not too many of you know what I mean by any of that, which is why I think this mashup of fulfillment and transcendence is something that only a small percentage of people ever experience.

May any and every one of you who has the requisite intellectual and emotional capability and maturity come to experience fulfillment and transcendence as soul-deep emotions and experiences rather than mere dictionary words.

May you come to realize that you have a future precisely because you have a past, and that you will have no future if you have no past.

May you come to realize that life and purpose are one and the same, that having one is having both, and lacking one is lacking both.

And may you all truly come home.

That’s my permanent grown up Christmas wish for the world.

Farewell to Krauts, Exclamation Point

13 07 2018

Darmstadt, Germany

Guten Abend aus Darmstadt, where it is about 5:30 PM CEDT, Friday, July 13, as I’m uploading this.

Darmstadt today was our final full day of this voyage and our final unique stop before flapping our wings out of here tomorrow, from the same place we landed six weeks ago, that being Frankfurt, and the city from which we started this epic voyage.  Not too early in the morning tomorrow, we’ll drive the few miles north to Frankfurt, have one last glance around the city, then head to the airport.  Even though Frankfurt to me is a mile wide and an inch deep, it will be the last I see of Germany maybe ever.

But my final unique stop, that being today’s in Darmstadt, while it may have seemed like it was going to be one of those mediocre “last mile” formalities, before we got here, I was promised a surprise grand finale, an exclamation point to the epic voyage.  Since this has been a trip of a lot of surprises and a whole lot of great things, I knew it had to be something out of this world for my traveling companion to hype it up like that.  (Remember that “out of this world” thing, because you’re about to find out that that was a figure of speech that I should have taken literally.)  I didn’t want to cheat and do internet research to give me a hint;  Surprises are meant to be surprised by. Just so you know, my traveling companion spent most of his real working years in mechanical engineering, and as such, he made quite a few trips to West Germany and then reunified Germany. While we have had many official tour guides over these past six weeks, he himself both knows Germany well enough and knows what interests me and obviously did the overlap in terms of choosing some of our spots. I’ll just say now that he is my uncle’s ex-wife’s brother, technically not an uncle, but he has been a might-as-well-have-been uncle to me my whole life, his wife, who is holding down the home front at the secret rehab hideout where we’ll soon return, has been a quasi-aunt to me. He is I suspect the benefactor of this massive epic voyage, and by benefactor, I mean credit card swiper and check writer. If he didn’t pay for all of it himself, I think I know who chipped in a percentage.

I got my exclamation point today, and how.

Darmstadt is where one finds the mission control operations for the European Space Agency’s unmanned missions, the European Space Operations Center (ESOC).  Meaning Darmstadt/ESOC is to the ESA what Pasadena/JPL is to NASA.  And we got to visit ESOC.  Never been to JPL, to beat all.  I’ll save the weedy details of what I saw and who I met for the official travelogue, but I’ll tease it by stating that, among the many things we took in while there, we met a few people whose English is good enough that are on the Gaia team.  A few months back, one of my favorite astronomy software programs (whose developer currently lives in Germany, see below) was able to start using Gaia’s most recent data release.

During our time in Ingolstadt, we visited Airbus’s space and defense operations headquarters.  (Note:  Airbus in general is based in The Netherlands.)  So I’ve seen both ends of this particular business in the context of Germany and Europe in general.  Early in this voyage, I arranged a meeting with the authors of one of my favorite astronomy software programs, as I already knew where he lives specifically; I won’t say which city specifically, because of the flies on the wall, and because I want to protect his privacy.  All I’ll say is that he lives somewhere in the Rhine-Ruhr region. About the only thing I missed out on in terms of astronomy is the Prague Astronomical Clock, which is being repaired and renovated and won’t go back on display until about the end of the year.  But I did get to see similar albeit less grandiose clocks in Strasbourg, Munster and near Stuttgart.

So, Darmstadt, this is for you.  You earned it.



I’ll add this anecdote:  Yesterday and the day before were our Rhine-Neckar Region days.  If you’re my age or older, then you probably remember all these TV commercials about a certain acronym corporation that proclaimed that they don’t make most of the things you buy, they make most of the things you buy better.  Even then, I as a youngster (a yoot?) had that WTF feeling about those ads.  I thought to myself:  If I don’t ever expect to buy anything directly from you, why are you buying ads destined for my eyeballs and eardrums to begin with?  Anyway, that corporation is the Ludwigshafen-based Badische Anilin und Soda Fabrik, translated:  Baden Aniline and Soda Factory.  Baden being the region/state where it is based, Aniline is a precursor chemical for many things, and “soda” in this context means sodium carbonate, which of course has a lot of uses and precursor uses.  Back to the point:  Badische Anilin und Soda Fabrik, better known by its gangster name: B.A.S.F.  Remember, BASF doesn’t make most of the things you buy, they make most of the things you buy better.  And it finally hit me just two days ago why German-based BASF ran ads on American TV in the several years surrounding 1990:  It wasn’t advertising, or marketing, or sales.  As I suddenly remember, the BASF ads ran largely during political talk shows.  Meaning the real purpose was back handed public relations and political lobbying aimed at the political class in the United States.  My bet is that there were political, environmental, diplomatic, or trade/tariff politics in the United States, relating to BASF’s American ambitions, and BASF’s American-based competitors, such as DuPont, or 3M, or St. Louis-founded Mallinckrodt, that BASF wanted to smooth over.  Also, 1990 was German reunification year, and I bet that played into that somehow.

Anyway, all that leads me to something I’ll do more thinking about once I get home and have some time to unwind:  Seems like most German cities and towns we either visited or passed through, (including today’s grand finale, I should add that it seems like half the elements in the periodic table were discovered in Darmstadt), even little bitty dots on the map, were verily described as past or present powerhouses in either chemistry, physics and/or engineering of some sort, so many are that way that it’s easier to remember the ones that aren’t. (*)  Angela Merkel, for all her political faults, holds a Ph.D. in molecular quantum chemistry.  That begs these questions:  Why is the country I’m about to go home to the global hegemon, and not the country I’m about to leave?  And if things were/are so good here, with all the scientific progress past and present, and the natural and artificial beauty, and delightfully easy-to-take summers on average, (highest temperature we experienced was 84), why did my Germany-line direct ancestors up and leave Germany somewhere between a century and a sesquicentury ago, for a miserable swamp on the other side of the world that’s a sauna-steam-oven for six months every year and a deep freezer for the other six, the spring conflicts between those climate patterns have the ability to wreck everything you’ve ever worked for into smithereens within a few seconds?

I had too good of a time on this trip to let my mind dwell on depressing questions, explanations and conclusions.  But now that this voyage is all but over, now I’m starting to let myself think about the other side the coin.  And if I let myself be honest with myself, then I’ll admit that the depressing answers to my depressing questions were there all along in my field of vision, hiding in plain sight, for almost every day of these six weeks in most of the places we visited.  Subtle reminders everywhere.  Always something there to remind my naked eyes.  (Gold star to the first one of you who groks that cultural reference.)  I have other reality check sort of observations as well, not the least of which are all the nonchalant insouciant devil-may-care borderline rotten borderline sour-pus countenances I get from a disturbingly high percentage of real German people, who, might I add, are of a disturbingly high median age, and those attitudes are adversely affecting Germany’s scientific and engineering prowess, including its automobile engineering, and are also fueling a disturbingly high level of public corruption.  Such a disciplined scientifically minded well organized group of people should not be having these problems and displaying these foibles, but they are.  Another thing I’ll tee off on:  Germany has no business being this expensive, and I think the reason it is is way more political than economic.

I’ll do more thinking and eventually public elaborating on these matters after I’m home and after I’ve had time to recuperate.

Speaking of home, when next we meet, that’s where I’ll be.

But, as for the rest of this late afternoon and evening, because we have nothing left to see, and we don’t have to get up that early tomorrow morning, I can finally let my hair down and have a good time.  Translated:  Knock back der steins.  The real exclamation point.


Our itinerary since my last update:

Ulm -> Stuttgart Region -> Pforzheim -> Ettlingen -> Rastatt -> Baden-Baden -> Offenburg -> Kehl -> Strasbourg, France -> Lauterbourg, France -> Karlsruhe -> Rhine-Neckar Region (incl. Worms) -> Limbach -> Darmstadt -> Frankfurt (tomorrow).  Which means you can combine this with my previous posts where wherein I outlined our path, to where you can plot our entire voyage.

The path between Stuttgart and Offenburg was our Black Forest meandering, with that special modesty-free day in Baden-Baden.

Limbach is just a tiny town up in the Odenwald Mountains about an hour east of Heidelberg.  Wikipedia lists five Limbachs in Germany, and the index in the obese French ghost’s road atlas lists twelve of them.  So why did I want to make this diversion to visit this particular dot-on-the-map Limbach?  The race to the gold star starts…NOW.

I knew we were truly in the home stretch of this voyage when we left the Black Forest for the last time and descended from the Black Forest hills into Offenburg, in doing so, we saw the Rhine River off in the distance.  That was the first time in more than a month we saw it, then, we left it behind to see the last few cities in the Rhine-Ruhr Region then make our way north out of Dortmund.  Coming full circle.


Even though I wish we could have spent more time in some of the cities and towns we stopped in to take in more of them, as a tour this grand even spread out over six weeks required some give-and-take, some prioritization and some sacrifices, I’m ending this trip with zero real regrets.


(*) – It is tempting to think that the reason I came away with that impression is because of the selection bias of my travel companion, as I admitted in this post that he, a retired mechanical engineer, with plenty of business travel experience in Germany, helped determine our itinerary.  And while it may be the case that his influence wound up with us having an itinerary that disproportionately oversampled cities known for hard sciences and engineering, one can still use fuzzy logic to adjust for such oversampling, and still conclude that, on a per capita and per square mile basis, Germany was and is far and away more of a science and engineering powerhouse than any other country on Earth, including the United States.  I’m sure there are quantitative ways to tell, perhaps hard science Nobel Prizes per capita, peer-reviewed academic papers in hard sciences or engineering per capita, hard sciences or engineering patents per capita, to speculate.  Also, it’s not as if every city or town we stopped in was predominately a science or engineering town, and it’s not as if I didn’t pick a lot of our spots.  And it’s not as if my travel companion is a one note samba.  Along with science and engineering, I wanted to take in many points of interest relating to history, music, politics, warfare, religion, sports, and maybe one or two other things, and on top of that I was doing the whole ancestry thing.  And he was interested in some of these  other things, too, some more than others, and one or two things that I don’t much care about.  So this “selection bias” argument is a hund jagt nicht.

Supreme Court Apprentice (Season 2)

10 07 2018

Washington, D.C.

Guten Abend aus Karlsruhe.

First off, just how do you pronounce Karlsruhe, anyway?

Because Lemay has a street by that name, people in and near the area have had the necessity to try to pronounce it.  And they just about always say Karl-Shrew.  Which means that how I learned to say it, and how I’ll pronounce it until the end of my days, in spite of the fact that, as of today, I now know better.  In reality, it’s pronounced more like Karl-Screw-It. Or more accurately, Kaaah-rel-screw’d.

Onward and upward.

The winner of Supreme Court Apprentice Season 2 is:

Hunter Wallace, of Occidental Dissent.

Sure looks like him, though, doesn’t it?

ICYMI, Neil Gorsuch won Season 1.

Strange the way it worked out.  Because Trump’s announcement was in the middle of the night for me, I knew I’d have to wait until I woke up, checked my tablet, to find out who the winner was.  Having to see a man about a horse woke me up in the middle of the night, and after I did, I checked the tablet, and saw this photo on Drudge, and thought of Hunter Wallace.  But before I could fully grok the name, I fell right back to sleep.  When I woke up for good this morning, there was an internet service outage that affected the Strasbourg hostel where we stayed that night and the night before.  And the way things worked out, it wasn’t until mid-afternoon, by then we already headed north through the Alsace and seen Lauterbourg, (a representative small Alsatian town), then crossed back into Germany, and made it into Karlsruhe in the blink of an eye, that we had lunch, and I used the public WiFi finally to find out with my full capabilities of comprehension that Brett Kavanaugh won.  You’re hired.

The whole irony of it?

Karlsruhe is where the German Supreme Court is based.

This isn’t the only time this trip has engaged in cosmic ironic trolling of your Blogmeister — But, once again, for the travelogue.

The German Supreme Court — Bundesverfassungsgericht — Is based in a very nondescript new-ish plain unremarkable building that’s next to the Karlsruhe Palace, and in fact, fronts to the same entrance courtyard of the Palace and abuts the same parkland and botanical garden. Nobody would think that this out-of-sorts building hosts a crucial government function in Germany just by looking at it if they already didn’t know or couldn’t translate long ass German compound run-on words, and I would have never guessed myself had our particular tour guide told us.  While the “Bundes” to start the Court’s name was a hint, my first guess, based on place, was that it was some German government agency for botanical and plant research or preservation. In contrast to the U.S. Supreme Court, which is in the city where one would expect it to be, and in a building that looks like important public functions take place inside. So why did the German Supreme Court get stuck in this tacky glass shack in front of a bunch of flowers in Karlsruhe of all places?  (I hope none of the judges have allergies.) I have my own theory, which I’ll save for the travelogue.  (Hint:  Think of a power that the German Supreme Court has that the American Supreme Court does not.)  Needless to say, I don’t buy the official explanation of Karlsruhe and not Bonn (West Germany days) or Berlin (reunified Germany) because of the avoidance of politics. After all, German elected politicians have to elect for Supreme Court judges, no matter where those judges work. If the U.S. Supreme Court was based in San Diego, but had the same nomination/confirmation procedure they do now, it would be stupid to think that they’re in San Diego to avoid political influence.

Now, back to the home side of The Big Ocean, I saw a story in my feed reader maybe about a week ago that feminist women wanted to start a Lysistrata campaign, to have women deny sex to pro-life men. That’s all rooted in the fear that now that Anthony Kennedy has retired and a Trump appointee will replace him, that Roe v Wade could be overturned. I think they have no reason to worry, because the President who appointed Kennedy’s replacement doesn’t exactly have a reputation as a rock-ribbed social conservative for one, a SCOTUS with nine Scalias wouldn’t overturn Roe these days for two, and for three, even if SCOTUS did, legal aborticide has the political wind to its back because rich white Republican women in blue cities/counties/states and their simp husbands make the crucial marginal difference, which in turn means within 24 hours of any SCOTUS reversing Roe, there would be passed and signed Federal legislation removing aborticide from the jurisdiction of the Federal judiciary and hard wiring it as a penumbral Fourth Amendment privacy right.  Kavanaugh has already tipped over his hand that he would keep Roe, for four.

But this business about denying sex to pro-life men: First off, the kind of women who are campaigning for that are the kinds of ugly hags that nobody is checking for, meaning they’re already living the Lysistrata life. That’s like saying a cat is going to give up lettuce for Lent. Second, pro-life men won’t have to worry about not getting sex, because they already get sex from their pro-life wives. And then I have to see all this bullshit that Lysistrata style campaigns have made a difference. Where? When? Mind you, Lysistrata the play was just that, a play, a fictional work, not representative of something that really happened in Athens during the Peloponnesian War. In the real world, both Fifth Century B.C. and Twenty-First Century A.D., women really put out to warriors. The Lysistrata thesis has not yet ever been tested, and probably never will be.

Oh boy, I bet you all have really missed my red pill dispensation for all these weeks.

Side notes:  Kavanaugh succeeded Harriet Miers as White House Staff Secretary in the Bush 43 White House.  Miers, in case you don’t remember, was Bush’s failed false-start crony pick for SCOTUS, and when she flamed out, Bush appointed Sam Alito.  Kavanaugh is Yale Law, so this pick does not break the Harvard-Yale duopoly on the Bench.  My civic pride had me rooting for Raymond Gruender, and while he’s on the permanent Trump “long” short list for open SCOTUS slots, I saw in the days leading up to the winner being revealed that he was not on the “short” short list for this slot.  Immigration patriots seem to be really raving positively about Kavanaugh, but I think that no matter who Trump would have picked out of his Federalist Society-curated “long” short list grab bag, one would be just as good as the other on the kind of immigration matters to which SCOTUS grants cert.  The Federal Appellate Courts tend to get way more into the weeds on immigration matters than does SCOTUS.

Blaue Donau

3 07 2018

Ulm, Germany

Guten Abend aus Ulm.

We ended today here in Ulm, after also having seen Kempten and Memmingen, and we departed this morning from Fussen. Which means that we gradually spent today departing the Alps and getting further and further away from them, which means bye bye Alps. Maybe for good. But if I ever get to do more international travel and it’s my prerogative, it will be to Italy. On such an occasion, I’ll make sure I get to see this massive epic awesome mountain range from the other side.

This day came after yesterday, in which we departed Salzburg, Austria very early and made our way mostly on back roads and back roads of back roads on the edge of the Alps from Salzburg to Fussen. While in Fussen, we visited both Neuschwanstein and Hohenschwangau Castles. In between Salzburg and Fussen, we stopped in the town of Garmisch-Partenkirchen, which hosted the 1936 Winter Olympics. That was only time Germany ever hosted the Winter Games, and the only time that the Summer and Winter Games were held in the same country in the same year.

Most people know about the 1936 Summer Games in Berlin, the whole mythology and hagiography of Jesse Owens, supposedly single handedly (or should that be double footedly?) embarrassing Hitler. The inconvenient truth is that Hitler personally took it upon himself to congratulate Owens — Meanwhile, Owens’s own country’s President, (that would be FDR, for those of you who are eithe SJWs or are part of the low information undertow), totally blew Owens off when he returned to the United States. And it’s hard to contend that Owens ruined Hitler’s Olympics, when Germany finished with the most gold medals and the most overall medals in the 1936 Summer Games. This whole bit about “Jesse Owens embarrassed Hitler lol” is purely manufactured revisionist history as a result of the outcome of WWII. Anyway, since Germany hosted the Winter Games earlier that year, it begs this question: Where was the Jesse Owens on skis or skates to embarrass Hitler?

With our departing the Alpine Region, to where the Alps are now barely even visible on the southern horizon here in Ulm, I can attest that yesterday was the climax day of this voyage, and we are now on what would be the falling action if this voyage was literature. Yet and still, we still have ten full days to go on this voyage, which still leaves us plenty of time for plenty of predictable good things and plenty of surprises.

Our itinerary since last I posted here:

Ingolstadt -> Munich -> Rosenheim -> Salzburg, Austria -> Garmisch-Partenkirchen -> Fussen -> Kempten -> Memmingen -> Ulm

Note: Back when we got to Ingolstadt, the tour guide for that leg of the trip implored us to pay attention to the notable river in town. She noted that while it was denoted in the German language as the Donau River, in English, we call that river the Danube River. I had totally forgotten that the mighty Danube, of Vienna and Bratislava and Budapest and Belgrade and Bucharest fame, (that stream has a fetish for European capital cities that start with B), does make it into Germany, and in fact, the Danube’s two short mother rivers of different names have their sources in the Alpine foothills in far southwestern Germany, just on the other side of the Black Forest hills from the Rhine. Today, the tour guide we had for this part of the trip coincidentally did the same thing, as we crossed back across the Danube at Ulm, that is, make sure we know that this river we’re crossing is the Danube.

My Wildest Dreams

27 06 2018

Ingolstadt, Germany

We have already made our way through the Czech Republic and back into Germany.

Yes, I watched this afternoon’s World Cup game from a beer hall here in Ingolstadt.  BTW, Ingolstadt, which only looks like a dot on the map, is a real powerhouse town, considering the fact that it’s not one of those German cities that non-Germans have heard of and can readily identify and place in Germany.  But, more on that in the travelogue.

We were still in the Czech Republic when Germany played its second game back on Saturday.  Understandably, Czechs just aren’t that into German soccer, so no beer hall soccer watching.  The good part about the game is that Germany came back and won — Had they lost, they would have been eliminated from the playoffs, meaning this afternoon’s game would have been a meaningless formality.  Because they won, today’s game meant something, which made for a way more interesting few hours in the beer hall.

Unfortunately for German fans, Germany lost this afternoon’s game, South Korea scored two goals entirely in the extra time period of the second half, to add insult to injury.  Sweden won its game, so the only way Germany could have made the playoffs was to win the game versus South Korea outright.  So, no playoffs for Germany.  Deutschland Deutschland uber nobody in the division.  The only slightly good part about that for me is this:  The championship final for the whole World Cup is on July 15, and come hell or high water, we fly home on July 14.  I was worried for awhile that Germany would make it to the final game, yet we’d have to leave the day before, meaning we wouldn’t be in Germany to watch it.  Which I’m sure would have been quite the experience.  But, that won’t be a problem now.  I know nil about soccer, but even I could see that this iteration of the German national team, even if they made the playoffs, did not have it in them to win three consecutive games against other playoff teams in this tournament, which is what they would have needed to do to make the championship game.

In spite of it all, I got to watch two German World Cup soccer games while in Germany, the first game and this afternoon’s game, from Wittenberg and Ingolstadt, respectively.  And during both games, the atmosphere was so electric and so charged and so surreal, that it would make a Birmingham sports bar during an autumn Saturday afternoon or evening while ‘Bama is playing seem like the overnight at a retirement home, by comparison. I don’t like soccer, but I’ve never had so much fun doing something I don’t like. Hell, I myself got so charged up and full of the energy that I felt like personally invading Poland and the Sudetenland. (So to speak, because we have already been to both places, albeit on much friendlier terms.)

In a trip that has thus far had many great surprises and generated quite a few lifelong memories, one of which I’m about to hint around, this one is right up there with the best of them.

Beyond that, the German media will commence many months of a funeral dirge, starting in three, two, one…


Now, to the point of this post — At some point in our time inside the Czech Republic, something extraordinarily good happened to me, something I wasn’t expecting to happen at all when we embarked on this voyage.  Let me just put it to you this way — We made an extra surprise unplanned stop at a given Czech town, and while there, I was able to come as close as I’ll ever get in this world to solving a long standing family mystery going back four generations.

I started this voyage with reasonably high expectations, meaning I figured that, just by pure observation, I would able to trigger racial memory to figure out where in Germany and the Czech Republic I got the biggest tingling feelings.  Just for full disclosure, my Czech and German lineages are poorly documented before the immigrating generation on each line, which means I do not actually know any individuals in either country that are confirmed relatively distant cousins of mine.  Same goes for my Italian line, though I know from DNA testing that the Italian in me is heavily Po River Valley.  What do you call people from the Po Valley?  Po folks.  Rimshot.  Also, in case you’re wondering, Italy is not on the itinerary, because that would have added way more time and way more expense.  If I ever can make another international trip, that’s where I’m headed.  Since I’m Lutheran, I already knew that I was way more likely to get the tingling feeling in northern Germany than southern Germany.  My English lineage, coming from my father’s mother, is, unlike my other ethnic lines, very well documented going back a very long time, which is how I know my English is South Coast and Midlands, though in that case, the colonizing generations were much farther back than the immigrating generations in my German, Czech and Italian lines, meaning that confirmable distant cousins back in England are way more distant in terms of degrees.   In spite of that, I have no desire to visit Cuck Island/Ukistan anytime soon.  Our flight path took us over it on the way coming here and it will on the way going home, but that’s as close as I feel like coming to it.

The upshot of all that is that I’m heavily reliant on racial memory and tingling feelings, in the context of this voyage.  And, as far as that goes, I’ve had some really promising tingling feelings in Germany itself.  (Hint:  Rhine-Ruhr Region except Dortmund.)  Not to mention this extra stop in the Czech Republic, where I am now 99.99% certain I was looking at third and fourth cousins in the eyes.  But this long standing family mystery I just referred to — I had zero expectation of ending this voyage being any the wiser than I was when I started it.  But, here I be, all the wiser.

Because of the personal nature of all this, I have to keep all the details, including the name of the town, under the vest.  As usual, I’ll tell you only if I know you and trust you.  I have already written out a form letter response to cut and paste that fills in all the blanks.


Here has been our itinerary since last we talked, leaving out the extra town in the Czech Republic:

Luther Region -> Dresden -> Usti -> Prague -> Ceske Budejovice -> Cesky Krumlov -> Prague -> Pilsen -> Nuremberg -> Ingolstadt

There is a hint in the name of one of these towns that will explain why we as St. Lousians made it our business to stop there.  It will come to you if you have paid close attention to local business news for awhile.  If you can’t figure it out, then you’ll just have to wait for the travelogue.

This voyage is succeeding beyond my reasonable expectations and on level with my wildest dreams.  Even if it ended now, it would be the defining experience of my life.  But we still have a lot of time to spare and territory to traverse — We don’t leave the continent and return home until July 14.  Which means we have a lot more time for potentially many more surprises.

Oops, did I say that I’d be on this trip for almost all of June?  I fibbed, I meant virtually all of June and half of July.  Now I know that advice I got to bring along two months of meds and get a two month Schengen Zone travel visa was spot on.


20 06 2018


Guten Abend aus Dresden.

I must break my self-imposed blogging embargo, because I want to prevent you from being bamboozled by something that appears to be good news today.  Before you start cheering, as someone who is currently in the other country mentioned here, time for a bitter reality check:

Germans just aren’t that into American cars, no matter the price. I think I’ve seen more flags containing the visage of Stalin here than I have American cars on the roads.

That’s the base problem.

But there’s a compounding factor that will make it worse:

American “cars?”

In case you haven’t noticed, the American car industry is getting out of the “car” business. It won’t be but a few more years that the American car industry is almost entirely SUVs and trucks.

So, we think that a people, already predisposed against American cars, are going to rush out and buy gas guzzling land whales simply because they’re about to be somewhat cheaper. With current gas prices in Germany in the $6.30s a gallon, (after converting for units and exchange rates, obviously, gas stations in Germany show gas prices by Euros per liter), the 2018 Lincoln Navigator, which in the real world gets 18 miles to the gallon (metric cultures express fuel economy by flipping the convention, expressing total fuel used in liters given a fixed distance, in this case, liters per 100 km, meaning 18 mi/gal translates to 13.1L/100km), is really going to fly off the dealer lots. Not.

Meanwhile, German cars are way more popular in the United States than American cars are in Germany, and German cars (i.e. the ones not already made in the United States) are about to become less expensive than they were before the start of these proceedings.

Executive Summary: The Krauts just rolled us on the real, even if Trump and Grenell do a lot of football spiking for public theatrics.