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Tuesday was a free day because I couldn't get a flight out then. Shiny H had recommended that I check out the interior of Thomaskirche, which I'd walked past a few times. I walked into the quite lovely twelfth-century church and found, over by the chancel, a big bronze plate in the floor bearing the name Johann Sebastian Bach.
Folks, here I have to give you some background. I was raised on (Western) classical music. My mother taught music, and was constantly taking her children, despite the fidgeting of her youngest, to classical concerts. That may explain why I've absolutely loved Bach's music, especially his organ works, since I was a child.
It turns out that Bach was buried in the church where he worked for 27 years. The church has rightly and sensibly claimed him as theirs, to the degree that they can. So as recorded Bach organ music played, I saw the church's respectable exhibit of his memorabilia and thought of how much Mom would have enjoyed being there. So of course I had a good cry in the middle of a beautiful medieval church surrounded by Germans, who left me alone. They must get that a lot at Thomaskirche.
I bought a döner with everything for dinner by way of recovery. It was almost as big as its London cousin, and if anything even tastier and messier. Recommended, and a solid meal for €6.50.
On the way to the airport going home I got on the commuter train (S-Bahn) going the wrong way. What did I find at the end of the line but a campaign sign for Alternative für Deutschland, the party that wants to deport everyone who isn't German enough for them? The AfD has already gotten in trouble for their fascist activities at least once. Funny, I didn't see any AfD signs in Leipzig proper or any of its inner suburbs that I visited. I guess the political division between urban and rural, or at least exurban, works the same way in Germany as it does in the US.
I did, however, see a poster for the center-right CDU near my hotel whose slogan was, "More security and order." Folks, there wasn't a whole lot of insecurity or disorder evident on the streets of Leipzig, not by American standards.
Oh: also on the S-Bahn, I found out from the ticket-checker dude that my ticket* wasn't valid because I hadn't signed it! He signed it for me, thank goodness — maybe he took pity on a sincerely clueless Ausländerin — but that was yet another encounter with Germany's many less-than-obvious rules.
One rule that seems to be routinely flouted is that against drinking on trams. You can buy beer and other alcohol everywhere in Germany, and the drinking age is 19. The above notwithstanding, I personally witnessed no evidence of drunken jackassery, and I did a whole lot of walking around.
But aside from my S-Bahn misadventures, the trip home was smooth. I was surprised to learn that US Customs has a great big operation at the Vancouver airport, which has an entire concourse dedicated to US-bound flights. I later discovered that US Customs does its thing in Toronto and other airports that have many US-bound flights. I can't help but wonder if it rankles Canadians to see a sign in their airport saying, "Welcome to the United States." I got agriculturally inspected, but I was clean as a whistle; good thing I ate all that Müsli, cheese, and Wurst that I kept at the hotel.
I lost the detached back panel to my 50th birthday corset; I enjoy imagining the perplexity of the German who found it. Dark Garden says not to fear: the replacement cost is reasonable.
Did I have an excellent, mind-expanding time? Hell yes!
Did ignorance of German suck? Yes, but not nearly as much as it could have in a country that hasn't gone to extraordinary lengths to accommodate English-speakers.
Do I regret not engaging more with Leipzig's kink scene? Less than you might think; there was a language barrier and so much else to do. A city of similar size even in France might not have been so easy.
Do I want to go again? Preferably not alone, or at least if I do I need to make more effort to get together with other Sadgoths.
Edited to add: I'll get around to the photo uploads eventually. That's not exactly smooth on DW.
*I needed a paper, one-way ticket because my wristband had ceased to be a transit pass at midnight. It is now stuck into my scrapbook, along with the beautifully embossed ticket that I stood in line for.
Folks, here I have to give you some background. I was raised on (Western) classical music. My mother taught music, and was constantly taking her children, despite the fidgeting of her youngest, to classical concerts. That may explain why I've absolutely loved Bach's music, especially his organ works, since I was a child.
It turns out that Bach was buried in the church where he worked for 27 years. The church has rightly and sensibly claimed him as theirs, to the degree that they can. So as recorded Bach organ music played, I saw the church's respectable exhibit of his memorabilia and thought of how much Mom would have enjoyed being there. So of course I had a good cry in the middle of a beautiful medieval church surrounded by Germans, who left me alone. They must get that a lot at Thomaskirche.
I bought a döner with everything for dinner by way of recovery. It was almost as big as its London cousin, and if anything even tastier and messier. Recommended, and a solid meal for €6.50.
On the way to the airport going home I got on the commuter train (S-Bahn) going the wrong way. What did I find at the end of the line but a campaign sign for Alternative für Deutschland, the party that wants to deport everyone who isn't German enough for them? The AfD has already gotten in trouble for their fascist activities at least once. Funny, I didn't see any AfD signs in Leipzig proper or any of its inner suburbs that I visited. I guess the political division between urban and rural, or at least exurban, works the same way in Germany as it does in the US.
I did, however, see a poster for the center-right CDU near my hotel whose slogan was, "More security and order." Folks, there wasn't a whole lot of insecurity or disorder evident on the streets of Leipzig, not by American standards.
Oh: also on the S-Bahn, I found out from the ticket-checker dude that my ticket* wasn't valid because I hadn't signed it! He signed it for me, thank goodness — maybe he took pity on a sincerely clueless Ausländerin — but that was yet another encounter with Germany's many less-than-obvious rules.
One rule that seems to be routinely flouted is that against drinking on trams. You can buy beer and other alcohol everywhere in Germany, and the drinking age is 19. The above notwithstanding, I personally witnessed no evidence of drunken jackassery, and I did a whole lot of walking around.
But aside from my S-Bahn misadventures, the trip home was smooth. I was surprised to learn that US Customs has a great big operation at the Vancouver airport, which has an entire concourse dedicated to US-bound flights. I later discovered that US Customs does its thing in Toronto and other airports that have many US-bound flights. I can't help but wonder if it rankles Canadians to see a sign in their airport saying, "Welcome to the United States." I got agriculturally inspected, but I was clean as a whistle; good thing I ate all that Müsli, cheese, and Wurst that I kept at the hotel.
I lost the detached back panel to my 50th birthday corset; I enjoy imagining the perplexity of the German who found it. Dark Garden says not to fear: the replacement cost is reasonable.
Did I have an excellent, mind-expanding time? Hell yes!
Did ignorance of German suck? Yes, but not nearly as much as it could have in a country that hasn't gone to extraordinary lengths to accommodate English-speakers.
Do I regret not engaging more with Leipzig's kink scene? Less than you might think; there was a language barrier and so much else to do. A city of similar size even in France might not have been so easy.
Do I want to go again? Preferably not alone, or at least if I do I need to make more effort to get together with other Sadgoths.
Edited to add: I'll get around to the photo uploads eventually. That's not exactly smooth on DW.
*I needed a paper, one-way ticket because my wristband had ceased to be a transit pass at midnight. It is now stuck into my scrapbook, along with the beautifully embossed ticket that I stood in line for.
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Date: 2024-05-27 05:20 pm (UTC)From:(no subject)
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