The Black Forest and Breisach

                        My ‘Mind’s Eye’ and what it has seen in the Past, only to be truthfully fortified when it comes into the present, is one of my favorite things. The current example is the Black Forest region of Germany. That little part of my brain has worked overtime over the years just trying to imagine what different places around the world look and feel like. I was totally satisfied when we took an excursion there when we called at Breisach, Germany.

                        The Black Forest…. Cuckoo Clocks, Black Forest Hams, Black Forest Cakes (!), Kirsch, and its typical half-hipped roof farmhouse all ensure that this region retains its wonderful identity.

                        The small villages that we wound our way through on our way to The Black Forest all have that medieval feel to them as most of them can trace their roots back that far.

                        But before we could get to Breisach, we needed to board  the boat. This was waaaay different than the boarding process for Ocean Cruises. Ocean Cruises require long lines at check-in, photos taken for security purposes, and a host of other ‘formalities’ that need to be addressed before the Cruise may commence.

                        On a River Cruise it goes like this: “Good Afternoon Mr. Hall, Gilligan here will show you to your stateroom!” and then he shouts over his shoulder to an officer down the companionway….. “Ok, we can shove off now, everyone is aboard!”

                        That’s it.

                        No photos, no questions, no giving up your first-born….. I could have brought a howitzer on with me, and they probably would have asked if I needed assistance with my ‘baggage’. No need to go through a Security Scan, I don’t think that we have any Security Team anyway, unless maybe the Maintenance Crew doubles as Security….. these guys are big, and they don’t look friendly either! There wasn’t even a Lifeboat Drill because…… there aren’t any lifeboats! All you need to do is put on your swimmies and take three paddle strokes, and you‘re on one of the riverbanks!

                        Now, on to the Black Forest! About an hour and a half from our dock on the Rhine, and through the lowlands filled with all sorts of agricultural tid-bits, we arrived at the base of an area that resembled the wooded foothills of any upland region that may come to your mind. The road was windy and maybe uncomfortably narrow, but we were not in the Motorhome, so we were not driving!

                        We rolled into a small, restored village called Drubba Black Forest. It was our “one stop Black Forest “ experience and for the limited time that we had, served our purposes very nicely. Situated as it was at/on the western terminus of the Hollsteig Toll Road gave it an air of authenticity especially when we walked past the old tollhouse on our way to the oldest (ancient?) church in the Black Forest, the Chapel of St. Oswald. It was consecrated in 1148 AD and has obviously seen a lot in its 877 years, including some extremely near-misses from WWII bombings of the very nearby train viaduct. Check out the photo for some more info!

                        The rest of the village is comprised of a variety of buildings where the trades of the Black Forest are all explained, taught, and offered for sale. Finding out that a truly authentic cuckoo clock (especially the larger, more intricate ones) is the product of several craftsmen in several families was an eye-opener. The cuckoo shop here reminded me of one of the western Trading Posts that we frequent when we visit the Four Corners Region. These stores deal with the local tradespeople and sell their works, acting like a middleman of sorts.

                        We also watched an entertaining session on how to make an authentic Black Forest Cake!

So, what makes it authentic?

                                    Does it need to be made in the Black Forest?

                                    No!

                                    Does it need to be made by little old ladies?

                                    No!

                                    Does it need to be made with German cherries?

No!   (probably just fresh ones!)

How about real whipped cream?

Well…yea…. Probably.

Ok, what then makes it authentic???

The Kirschwasser!

The what???

The Kirschwasser!!! ….. the cherry liqueur!!!

            This recipe is highly recommended to give to unruly children that won’t go to sleep! On piece and Zzzzzzz! (You may use cherry syrup instead of the “good stuff” but then it would not be authentic.)

                        After we were finished, George our driver, hitched the horses back up to the bus and we proceeded to go home via the ‘Alte Steige”, the reason that the toll road was constructed in the first place. You see, it has a 13% grade attached to it and the trades’ routes through this area demanded a road through here, as the rest were really just…. ‘mountains un-roaded’ and an ‘improved’ road for that 13% grade was well worth the toll!

George flipped the guy a wooden nickel and away we went!

            Our return to the boat was a little shorter than our way out but still brought us through incredible little ‘dorfs’ and farmlands. Unfortunately (mostly for the residents of this area) the daytime temps have been hovering in the mid-nineties, which is definitely much higher than they are used to. We (the tourons) are used to those kinds of temps, would rather have had them fifteen degrees lower, but can handle them. Unless your next excursion involves walking into town after lunch on board. The walk wasn’t so bad (uphill both ways) it was what we wanted to see while we were there.

            Someone a really long time ago decided to test the Faithful and place a grand cathedral way up on the tippy-top of a giant hill. This way all were tested come Sunday morning, as only the Truly Faithful would get up, skip breakfast, and hike up to Mass. At least that’s what I thought as I was the one elected to reconnoiter the object of our Proposed Siege of the Hill and then report back to the rest of my platoon and we would decide from there.

                        After finishing my mission, plopping down in the chair offered, downing a quenching supply of water between wheezing breaths, the observant others intelligently decided to forgo the mission and retreat back to the safety (and air-conditioning) of headquarters and promptly activate the Emergency Orders marked “Happy Hour”. I can’t say that I blame them. But here for your perusal are the fruits of that ill-fated Reconnoitering Mission.

                        No worries, there will be many more “Missions” to report on in the near future as our Itinerary is as jam-packed as it can get.  Carry on.

The next few are of the Exterior only as photography is not allowed inside.