19 June 2005 Sunday
We are late by about 45 minutes and will be at Passau by about 10:00 am instead of 9:15 am as we thought. Presently we are in a lock that seems locked up with barges (excuse the pun). And in front of me, the program directors at the desk below are speaking English, I can hear them mocking the travellers that will come up to them whining at the very last moment having to cancel optional trips that they have already scheduled. When they joke in English, I know that they don't might me overhearing since they could absolutely lapse into Flemish or German. Perhaps they grow tired of English from time to time.
Passau
The confluence of three rivers, the 'Venice of Germany." We all raised our eyebrows at that appellation, wondering how that could possibly be without canals running through it. Perhaps there were canals. There were some buildings with the pointed windows and some banners from windows, but the colors of the buildings made me think of Greece. Surprising Mediterranean blues yellows pinks greens one against the other.
Curious little snafu at Passau. When we pulled up to the dock in Passau the gate at the end of the gangway was locked. Chained. So there we were, all prepared and standing in neatly waiting for the gate to be opened. One of our passengers had friends waiting on the other side. Apparently these were parents of a German student who had stayed in an American home. Great excitement and frustration.
Clearly someone in possession of the key must have gone to church or taken off for the weekend. Calls were made. Permission eventually obtained to make an important snip. Finally one of our unsmiling sailors connected two lengths of extension cords and cut the lock in half with an electric cutty thing. Hooray! The chains fell away and in our color coded groups, we flowed towards St Stephen's Cathedral.
Sunday Mass in the cathedral with the largest organ in Germany. And not only was it an impressive instrument, it made an enormous sound. HUGE. After one mass there was an elaborate rush of earth-shaking music. My hair stood on end, the low rumbling making me jump out of my skin. We sat for the next mass and just before the bishop and his entourage came up with glorious procession in gold vestments and scarlet skullcap. Incense, fantastic soloists and the choir that filled the cavernous cathedral.
Just before the procession began, an impressively large fellow in an imposing grey coat and silver buttons shooed away any staring tourists, who were easily identifiable since they standing with their backs to the altar looking at the organ. Many community members were dressed in the traditional garb: Lederhosen for the men and the German dirndls(sp)and checkered dresses with ornate silver buttons. Later on, my foot travels through Passau, and I would see these garments on sale with exorbitant price tags. Lederhosen – in a soft brown suede for men – 235 EU. Felt hats with twisted rope trim. Vests, hats, embroidery for adults and children available.
Interesting winding cobbled roads reminiscent of Italy and Greece. And with the bright sunshine and the tanned tourists and the colors all around, it really did seem like the Mediterranean.
After church we made our way back to the ship for lunch and then I changed for a quick walkabout. Most of the stores were closed as it was Sunday but the souvenir shops and ice cream shops were open. I purchased my bracelet charms for Passau. Didn't feel like buying postcards, so I took many shots to make up for that. I spent no money in that area.
But I did wander all the way down to St Paul's Church, a lovely pink church with an elevated path that rose up from the sidewalk so you couldn't help but go through. An evangelistic piece of sidewalk that rose up and forced the pedestrian right into the church. One would be innocently walking along, minding their own business and then WHOOPS! Quiet, white walls, high dark oil paintings, white ornamentation in the ceiling. And very few people there on that lovely Sunday afternoon admiring the side chapels and the high altar. I walked through slowly, a shadow only, and then emerged onto the street renewed with missionary zeal. Not.
Walk walk walk walk all the way back in time for high tea and the all important disembarkment discussion.
Changed for high tea by switching earrings only. There was supposed to be an apfelstrudel demonstration by the cook in the lounge. Pity we didn't have a mirror over head to see his hands and how he flipped the dough and filling and rolled it neatly with the tablecloth as his ally. This I did not witness with mine own eyes, but could imagine it in my mind. There were trays of small samples of Austrian pastries, small and beautiful to even a non-eater of sweet things. Pretty to see nonetheless. When the demonstration was over, and the poor overworked cook was finished and had bowed at the applause, ice cream was scooped out and plates arranged and dessert eaten before the champagne toast and the captain's dinner.
Disembarkation talk. Clear and not clear though we got the clarification later on and everything was fine. 15 minutes before the captain's toast and we went to our cabin and then up again. When I saw what people were wearing I flew down again, jumped into the shower for the world's zippiest shampoo and shower and then up again with my wet hair combed down and then clipped up formally. Glass of champagne with our fellow travellers and then the stream to the dining room.
The captain's dinner was an ambitious affair as was the first sailing dinner: appetizer, hot appetizer, sherbet, entree, dessert. 5 full courses. I have learned to eat very selectively and still I feel like an elephant.
Poor overworked staff! Hope they sleep as well as we will tonight!
posted by Articulate Pen @ 6:53 PM
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