Day 12 & 13 – Piece de Resistance

Hard to recall yesterday when so much has transpired today. We’ll give it a crack.

I got up for a shuffle in the rain, wandered up yesterday’s secret pathway and descended the heights downstream this time. The philosopher’s way, as it’s actually called, passes through fields dating back to roman times; vines then, orchards now, and then down through all the massive old homes overlooking the river.

We wandered into town to Le Boheme for breakfast and, as it was raining, spent considerable additional time, drinking coffee, watching the world cup and experimenting with Haiku (thanks Lily) as this felt like a particularly German thing to do:

Bitter cold and grey,
children jump and laugh, splash, splash,
carefree in the rain

In keeping with our Germanic / Australasian roots, we think it’s important that all subsequent responses be penned in haiku.

In the afternoon we zig-zagged down all the old lane ways popping out into the bustling main street then disappearing down some other appealing alleyway; small pubs & restaurants, little barbers shops, a tailors, till we got, through the wind and the rain, to the church. We couldn’t go in as they were setting up for a concert – tonight!

Instructed to bugger off till said concert started, we found this nice little pub around the corner – it was a smokers pub – the first either of us had been in for years. The bar maid was studying special needs teaching at the uni, was studying in the bar till the inn-keeper gave her a job. At 6′ 3”, long blond hair, and Gal Godot figure it was either barmaid or viking queen. Given the lack of openings for the latter – barmaid was a fair call.

In the corner were three black skivvied, blue jeaned bohemian types; two men with dark, dangerously pointed beards and a lady, all blowing deeply philosophical smoke rings while checking their phones.

Breathing the free air once more and vowing to burn all our clothes we headed back to the church. Bach! Couldn’t tell you which piece, but it was awesome. Choir of fifty, orchestra of twenty to thirty, a tenor, a bass and two sopranos. The whole thing was great but the tenor was sensational – and in this beautiful old church, the harmonies and multiple voices lifted up into the high knave, filling the whole church with beautiful surround sound; trumpets, French horn, oboe, violin, double bass, a kind of sitar looking think, harpsichord, bass drums – we could feel every note. It was something about Christ, not surprising given the venue and the time of year (and the composers reign and other compositions) but given the intensity of expression from the soloists, it could also have been a lovers tiff or something about income tax, or about people walking straight toward you while texting and expecting you to get out of the way – not sure.

The skinny guy with the thick glasses at the top of the telekafunken had recommended a restaurant which we found and wandered in to recount our favourite bits of the concert; the amazing finale where, variously, Jesus was resurrected, the lovers made up, the tenor got a really good tax refund or the texting pedestrian hit a pole. Whichever your fancy – it was very moving.

We got the last table, or so said the Irish waiter from The Valley in Brisbane! The food was pretty nice. I had this beef ragout with linga berries & cream and potatoes dumplings and Di had, well whatever Di had, it came with truffle mash potato, which, had I ever experienced it before, is what i would have been thinking of, teary eyed and enraptured, as Bach’s final notes gave way to the silence of centuries old stone, only moments earlier.

We wandered home well content, watching the markerteers, pulling down their huts – it was also the last night of markets for Heidelberg.

Easy middle of the day bus run to Strasbourg the next day with Flixbus. Very comfortable and relatively cheap (compared to train or hire car). We arrived in Strasbourg simultaneously, it would seem, with half the populations of France and Germany combined. The place was seething and we shuffled along through the narrow (cobbled) lane ways to our hotel, Hotel Suisse.

Strasbourg have really taken Christmas markets to the next level and in our brief stroll this evening, to the hotel recommended restaurant, we sampled only a small part of a simply gorgeous, festive, Christmas extravaganza.

Good call by the hotel receptionist too. We were booked for seven, restaurant opening time, and arrived at 7:05pm having been dragged by the Christmas current some hundreds of yards in the wrong direction. The Restaurant was full, with people queuing in the street – one empty table, being eagerly eyed off by waiting patrons, awaiting our arrival.

The meal was an experience in itself, elbow to elbow with languages of the world, merry making and enjoying delightful local fair. There must’ve been a hundred people in a room about five by twelve metres, low timber lined ceilings, dark lighting and brilliant food – ‘best chef in the area’ said the Frenchman next to us. The German bloke on the other side sat silently, sweating, with an eyes-open-wide, shocked look as the sizeable stack of horseradish he’d loaded up his ham traunch with hit home.

Great couple of days and we’re really looking forward to Christmas here in Strasbourg.