Der Kommissar’s still in town … Our journey through Germany

After Copenhagen, our boat puttered overnight to Warnemünde/Rostock for our arrival in Germany. Well-practiced in queuing, we made it through passport control, suddenly finding ourselves outside of the confines of the cruise processes. And we were off to find our rental car and start our German adventure.

Rostock is at the north end of what used to be East Germany. Thirty-five years post-unification, the state of infrastructure – trams, roads, commercial structures, and apartment buildings – reflected the achievement of the massive investments since the fall of the wall. And there was hardly a Trabant in sight. As interesting as it may have been, our purpose was not to explore Rostock, but to make our way further into Germany, somewhat on the path of my (Erik's) past.

First stop: Düsseldorf. Hendrick, with Stefan’s support, was our gracious host here, treating us to a lovely dinner with a view of the Rhine and an exploration of the historic part of town. Like many places in Europe, civilization records go back eons and have not stopped since. Lots to see and explore, from charming town to inviting parkscapes. Unusual, summer-like temperatures arrived, which made strolling through town all the more pleasant.

Next stop: Hochspeyer and Enkenbach-Alsenborn. Rarely heard-of places, they’re the backdrop of my early youth. And reconnecting with my Kindergarten BFF, Peter, was lovely, both for the current connection and for the stroll down memory lane. Peter’s wife made us feel comfortably welcome, and his sisters were able to provide some reminders of our youthful folly. Under the category of “there are no coincidences,” one of my former university professors, turned friend, retired back to her hometown of Enkenbach. In our first days at Seattle University, we discovered our common roots in the Rhineland-Palatinate. Like no time had passed since the last reunion, Gitte entertained with stories of my early-20s folly and, together with Patrick, a lovely lunch excursion along the Deutsche Weinstraße, an area of mild climate, great scenery, and wine production. We also passed through the ancestral home of a certain president, and we timidly expressed our apologies to no one in particular and moved on.

Our Route: Warnemunde-Dusseldorf-Hochspeyer-Hindelang

The summer-like interlude gave way to frigid, wet, mountain “spring” when we reached our third stop: Hindelang. This is the site of the second half my youth in Germany. It is also where my mom lives, and our chief objective of our time here was to look after her. That kept us close to home. It was an important time and, suffice it to say, aging and disability are, ironically, not for the weak. Frequent visits by my brother, Brian, and his husband Daniel were highlighting interludes to the tranquility of the village.

Hindelang is one of those picturesque places for which the word “bucolic” was invented. At the southern tip of Germany in the Bavarian Alps, Bad Hindelang is a collection of about a dozen villages and hamlets, all inhabited by about 5,000 people. Tourism is the main industry, as is growing grass to feed to cows to make cheese. The well-managed appearance of houses, forested, steep mountains, a verdant, grassy valley, and the tell-tale clanking of the bells on the many (brown) cows, converge in the creation of that bucolic image. A telling observation about the dynamic of the place is that back in 1985, when I left for Seattle, there were also about 5,000 inhabitants.

During our stay, we were able to connect with one of my high school friends, Tine, and more tales of folly were visited. We also had the good fortune of a visit by Seattle friends Gary and Rod, who put Bad Hindelang and us on their tour of Germany itinerary. It was a lot of fun to share locales of my youth with them.

Our final stop in our Germany journey: The regional airport in Memmingen. Processing about the same number of annual passengers as the airport in Palm Springs, but not keeping up with PSP’s charm, this conveniently located airport serves as an escape hatch for many sun-starved Bavarians and Swabians. And, so, we joined them and availed ourselves of its offering of convenient transportation to Alicante, Spain. More about that soon!