Driving on the autobahn with my Dad, listening to stories of his wild days in pre-unification Germany, I felt like I was getting new insight into my childhood. In the heyday that was the 1980’s and early 90’s, my Dad worked for a German computer company called Nixdorf, and as such he was required to spend quite a bit of time travelling in Germany. When I was barely old enough my Dad would regale me with stories about “his Germany”, a bacchanalian world of big parties, big hotels and big deals. There was the time that my Dad was drinking flaming Freisengeist in a 2CV (a model of a Citroen) and he lit his hand on fire, and subsequently the whole backseat of the car. There was the time that a big celebration in Frankfurt at the hotel Intercontinental turned into a naked snowball fight on the roof. And there was the time that Nixdorf decided to make their sales logo of the year “partnerschaft”, and my Dad had to explain how that didn’t really translate well into English. They used it anyway, and my Dad still has a button with the slogan printed obstinately across it. Finally there was the time that the head of the company Heinz Nixdorf dropped dead while dancing at a Nixdorf party in Hanover. All of this is to say that I am really pleased to have this opportunity to travel Germany with my Dad and retrace some of his footsteps.
Of course, my Dad hasn’t been to Germany for a number of years, and so he has needed some time to re-adjust. Driving along the autobahn, he was consistently taken aback as small “pea-shooter” cars, as he calls them, passed him (in his BMV) at 160 km per hour. D reminded him that he would have to get used to not being the fastest car on the road. Also he has taken to responding to German waiters in Spanish, this is especially humorous since my Dad doesn’t speak Spanish.
Our first day we drove to Weimar, guided expertly by our in car navigation system, which we have named Marta. Arriving at the Hotel Elephant in Weimar, I immediately sank into a cushy life of luxury, my hostel/backpack dragging experience out of sight and mind. Our room was a beautiful suite with master bathroom, bedroom, and living room/my bedroom, which had book-lined shelves, inviting leather furniture and a small silver tray garnished with perfectly ripe fruit, still water, and chocolates. I was in heaven. That night we ate at a traditional tavern, where Napoleon’s army had been billeted. Filled with good food and wine, I slept like a baby for the first time in months.
Weimar is a beautiful little town, slightly austere, but swimming in culture. Not only is it the famous home of Goethe and Schiller, but also a number of other famous Germans including Bach, Wagner, Clara Schumann, and is the home of the original Bauhaus. Our hotel appears to have been, and still is today, a patron of the arts providing lodging for a number of the aforementioned people. Though old in name, the hotel was totally rebuilt after the war. The first guest to sign the register once the hotel was re-opened was Thomas Mann, who was inspired to write Lotte in Weimar there. I read that fact with great pleasure, since I had just picked up a short collection of Mann's stories in Munich.
We didn’t have long to stay in Weimar, but before we left we enjoyed a fabulous brunch at a local restaurant. The brunch was called “Prosecco Brunch,” does that sound made for me or what? I got to drink unlimited Prosecco while eating a delicious assortment of German-Asian fusion delicacies. Looking at my Dad and D, I nearly wept with gratitude.
Our next destination: Dresden. Stay tuned.
Of course, my Dad hasn’t been to Germany for a number of years, and so he has needed some time to re-adjust. Driving along the autobahn, he was consistently taken aback as small “pea-shooter” cars, as he calls them, passed him (in his BMV) at 160 km per hour. D reminded him that he would have to get used to not being the fastest car on the road. Also he has taken to responding to German waiters in Spanish, this is especially humorous since my Dad doesn’t speak Spanish.
Our first day we drove to Weimar, guided expertly by our in car navigation system, which we have named Marta. Arriving at the Hotel Elephant in Weimar, I immediately sank into a cushy life of luxury, my hostel/backpack dragging experience out of sight and mind. Our room was a beautiful suite with master bathroom, bedroom, and living room/my bedroom, which had book-lined shelves, inviting leather furniture and a small silver tray garnished with perfectly ripe fruit, still water, and chocolates. I was in heaven. That night we ate at a traditional tavern, where Napoleon’s army had been billeted. Filled with good food and wine, I slept like a baby for the first time in months.
Weimar is a beautiful little town, slightly austere, but swimming in culture. Not only is it the famous home of Goethe and Schiller, but also a number of other famous Germans including Bach, Wagner, Clara Schumann, and is the home of the original Bauhaus. Our hotel appears to have been, and still is today, a patron of the arts providing lodging for a number of the aforementioned people. Though old in name, the hotel was totally rebuilt after the war. The first guest to sign the register once the hotel was re-opened was Thomas Mann, who was inspired to write Lotte in Weimar there. I read that fact with great pleasure, since I had just picked up a short collection of Mann's stories in Munich.
We didn’t have long to stay in Weimar, but before we left we enjoyed a fabulous brunch at a local restaurant. The brunch was called “Prosecco Brunch,” does that sound made for me or what? I got to drink unlimited Prosecco while eating a delicious assortment of German-Asian fusion delicacies. Looking at my Dad and D, I nearly wept with gratitude.
Our next destination: Dresden. Stay tuned.
3 comments:
Sounds nice - have fun with your family. And don't be sad when they leave! You'll experience luxury and family (and friends) soon again.
In the Globe today is an article about the no anorexia posters we saw all over Napoli. Apparently, the Italian Advertising board objected to them and they are being pulled. Also, the woman is real, not computer generated.
oh your dad. you know how i feel about your dad. and that fire-hand-car story...brings me back to that wonderful dinner at his and D's house in grade 12. i giggled out loud and had to recount the story to my roommate who was curious about my internet outburst.
can't wait to see you!
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