I started my day out by buying a ticket for the whole Rhineland-Westphalia region and exploring a little more of Cologne's historic center. Until Tuesday morning, I had only stepped into one church, which had curving inner arches, like many of the churches in Poland - people in some parts of Germany must have been adherents to the Catholic faith. My having looked inside only one church was in itself a bit of an aberration. When I first visited Europe, I was so trigger-happy that I entered a church in Lausanne during a service (sort of by accident) and, while trying to ask if I could climb the tower to look out over the city, was suspected of being a proselytizer from a different denomination, but on this trip, I grew a little gun-shy, especially as I arrived in Europe on a Sunday (or thereabouts). I do not like entering churches that are not obviously for show, as I tend to fear impinging on someone else's worship; while I am not a fan of Christianity myself, I would not want to disrespect people who practice it. Since I did not come across many churches that tourists were flowing in and out of, and since there was plenty else to see in Aachen and Maastricht, I only had one church interior with which to compare the interior of Cologne's cathedral when I entered it.
Cologne's cathedral was magnificent. It was done in all slate-grey except for the stained glass windows; its vaults reached up at least a hundred yards, and its walls were probably a yard or more thick. While the cathedral's interior was full of little filigrees, it seemed mostly an epitome of solidity. Its supporting structures were rounded and rose so high as to seem austere; one was struck both by their size and by their sparseness. While the cathedral had such detailed stained glass windows that one could clearly discern the individual scenes represented in them, the interior of the cathedral had almost none of the other adornments, such as gold decorations and statues of the Apostles, that one usually finds in churches, except for what was carved into its supporting pillars. The only thing that I disliked about the pillars was that they were carved such that they appeared to be made of columns of different thicknesses; I am far more fond of symmetry than asymmetry, but I have been given by a friend to understand that it was the very type of asymmetry embodied by the church's columns that defines gothic architecture.
I milled around the center of Cologne for a few more minutes before turning back to the train station so as not to miss my train to Trier. The countryside just south of Cologne was flat and unprepossessing, but it grew hillier and more varied as we got farther south. Every town that we passed had at least one impressive stone church; there were patches of poppies and buttercups, and whole fields of yellow wildflowers, like in Lausanne; and the countryside was filled with trees. I saw birches, ruddy-barked pines, two apparent relatives of the willows, angiosperms with leaves that are silver on the bottom, like I saw in eastern Poland and Russia, and vast numbers of species that I could not hope to recognize. Father south still, we started to pass rivers, and more coniferous trees appeared, growing in thick swaths except in a few ugly places that had been clear-cut. It was the type of train ride on which one does not know which way to look for fear of missing something; the landscape as a whole reminded me of the stretch of highway between Vancouver and Hope. After we passed a couple of especially beautiful churches, we stopped in Trier and disembarked.
Cologne's cathedral was magnificent. It was done in all slate-grey except for the stained glass windows; its vaults reached up at least a hundred yards, and its walls were probably a yard or more thick. While the cathedral's interior was full of little filigrees, it seemed mostly an epitome of solidity. Its supporting structures were rounded and rose so high as to seem austere; one was struck both by their size and by their sparseness. While the cathedral had such detailed stained glass windows that one could clearly discern the individual scenes represented in them, the interior of the cathedral had almost none of the other adornments, such as gold decorations and statues of the Apostles, that one usually finds in churches, except for what was carved into its supporting pillars. The only thing that I disliked about the pillars was that they were carved such that they appeared to be made of columns of different thicknesses; I am far more fond of symmetry than asymmetry, but I have been given by a friend to understand that it was the very type of asymmetry embodied by the church's columns that defines gothic architecture.
I milled around the center of Cologne for a few more minutes before turning back to the train station so as not to miss my train to Trier. The countryside just south of Cologne was flat and unprepossessing, but it grew hillier and more varied as we got farther south. Every town that we passed had at least one impressive stone church; there were patches of poppies and buttercups, and whole fields of yellow wildflowers, like in Lausanne; and the countryside was filled with trees. I saw birches, ruddy-barked pines, two apparent relatives of the willows, angiosperms with leaves that are silver on the bottom, like I saw in eastern Poland and Russia, and vast numbers of species that I could not hope to recognize. Father south still, we started to pass rivers, and more coniferous trees appeared, growing in thick swaths except in a few ugly places that had been clear-cut. It was the type of train ride on which one does not know which way to look for fear of missing something; the landscape as a whole reminded me of the stretch of highway between Vancouver and Hope. After we passed a couple of especially beautiful churches, we stopped in Trier and disembarked.
It would not be worth describing the time that I spent in Trier in depth: I walked around and looked at old churches (and buildings of historical importance). Trier is, apparently, the oldest city in all of Germany, and it is full of Roman ruins. It still contains sections of wall made by the Romans, one of which is quite large; a Roman arch, which appears on all of the postcards; and the entire foundation of a former amphitheater. The amphitheater still has some of the bleachers in which people would watch performances, the tunnels and holding cells from which gladiators would emerge, and even a few underground cages, which could have held either humans or lions. I did not have any mystical experiences while standing in the amphitheater; I will have to hope for better luck next time.
The train ride back to Cologne was mostly uneventful; I was tired and slept intermittently as I rode. I realized, while eating a pastry in Trier (which I bought for a very good price - it was a relatively cheap city), that I may be discovering the difference between French and German pastries. While the French have a penchant for using fruit toppings and milky custards, while the Germans are more fond of marzipan, jam, candied almonds, and pudding-like toppings, it strikes me that the germane difference between the two types of cuisine is that the Germans use dense breads as a base for their pastries, while the French are more fond of flaky, buttery dough. The Germans sometimes seem to even emulate the French by making pastries with toppings of custard, fruit, and fruit-flavored jelly; these may have crossed over directly from France. Whatever the case, the difference between the two types of (dessert) cuisine is in the dough.
I was going to comment that I would have to keep eating pastries to test my theory, but I am starting to think that I have already tasted enough different types of pastry in Germany that to continue trying new ones would be merely to repeat what I have already experienced, which would amount to gluttony. I have decided to start eating more sandwich-like lunches and rationing my ice cream intake (which I successfully did today); while a vacation without ice cream would be cruel and unusual punishment, I have already tried ice cream and know what it tastes like. A difference between French and German cuisine that I forgot to mention was that Germans seem to be more fond of pickled cabbage and tubers than the French, who appear to be more into gravy and heavy wine-based sauces.
The train ride back to Cologne was mostly uneventful; I was tired and slept intermittently as I rode. I realized, while eating a pastry in Trier (which I bought for a very good price - it was a relatively cheap city), that I may be discovering the difference between French and German pastries. While the French have a penchant for using fruit toppings and milky custards, while the Germans are more fond of marzipan, jam, candied almonds, and pudding-like toppings, it strikes me that the germane difference between the two types of cuisine is that the Germans use dense breads as a base for their pastries, while the French are more fond of flaky, buttery dough. The Germans sometimes seem to even emulate the French by making pastries with toppings of custard, fruit, and fruit-flavored jelly; these may have crossed over directly from France. Whatever the case, the difference between the two types of (dessert) cuisine is in the dough.
I was going to comment that I would have to keep eating pastries to test my theory, but I am starting to think that I have already tasted enough different types of pastry in Germany that to continue trying new ones would be merely to repeat what I have already experienced, which would amount to gluttony. I have decided to start eating more sandwich-like lunches and rationing my ice cream intake (which I successfully did today); while a vacation without ice cream would be cruel and unusual punishment, I have already tried ice cream and know what it tastes like. A difference between French and German cuisine that I forgot to mention was that Germans seem to be more fond of pickled cabbage and tubers than the French, who appear to be more into gravy and heavy wine-based sauces.
One of the most interesting things that I have done here is, like last year, to learn more about the origins of the English language. Some words from German have undergone what may be called a consonantal shift, or something analogous to that, by linguists: their hilfe, klippe, and teef have become our hill, cliff, and deep. Unless I am mistaken, such a shift as that from an "f" to a "p" (or vice versa) is a very non-trivial move and does not happen overnight, while switching from "t" to "d" (tur ---> door, gut ---> good, trinken ---> drink, hunt ---> hound, &c.) is much easier. Moreover, some German verbs echo English ones: "essen" is "to eat"; "gayen" is "to go"; "sayen" is "to see"; and so on. Some adjectives, such as "emotional" and "interessant" have been borrowed directly from French.
My only other point of note applies much more to today than to Trier: I am getting a little sick of churches. Part of the problem is that I have seen so much Christian propaganda over the past week to consider organized religion nothing more than a tool for suppressing and controlling people, while part of the problem is that dashing from city to city and trying to see as many cultural relics as possible at once can be tiring. While I am much more the type to try to learn more about other cultures while travelling, rather than trying to have the maximum strict amount of fun, I also made the mistake of planning to spend an unnecessarily large amount of time on the Rhine and planning a bit of a one-dimensional trip overall (at least, so far). In an effort to travel thoroughly, seeing huge numbers of cities rather than focusing merely on the larger ones (i.e., taking breadth over depth), I have consigned myself to seeing a ton of cities full of churches and old buildings; I am not seeing much unique stuff in each given city. I can partially rectify this by trying to find something distinguishing in each city that I visit, but I am, alas, too far away from any other country to make a convenient sojourn into totally different territory for a few days and take a break from medieval Europe. My plan for the next few days is to take it a little easier and calm down on the sightseeing, instead catching up on my blog and spending a few days seeking to do relaxing and enjoyable things (in the nature of taking a bike ride) that will ease the burden of trying to stuff culture down my throat. On my train ride today I saw three of the cities that I had planned to visit over the next couple of days, which is what has freed up my schedule a bit. (I guess that the way to describe this is to call it a Germany overload. I hope to avoid doing this on future trips.)
I forgot to describe the third day of my trip, on which I saw Dusseldorf and Essen, to you, and I still have to tell you about Bonn and the Rhine, at which point I will have caught up on my blog! (I plan to see Frankfurt itself tomorrow.)
My only other point of note applies much more to today than to Trier: I am getting a little sick of churches. Part of the problem is that I have seen so much Christian propaganda over the past week to consider organized religion nothing more than a tool for suppressing and controlling people, while part of the problem is that dashing from city to city and trying to see as many cultural relics as possible at once can be tiring. While I am much more the type to try to learn more about other cultures while travelling, rather than trying to have the maximum strict amount of fun, I also made the mistake of planning to spend an unnecessarily large amount of time on the Rhine and planning a bit of a one-dimensional trip overall (at least, so far). In an effort to travel thoroughly, seeing huge numbers of cities rather than focusing merely on the larger ones (i.e., taking breadth over depth), I have consigned myself to seeing a ton of cities full of churches and old buildings; I am not seeing much unique stuff in each given city. I can partially rectify this by trying to find something distinguishing in each city that I visit, but I am, alas, too far away from any other country to make a convenient sojourn into totally different territory for a few days and take a break from medieval Europe. My plan for the next few days is to take it a little easier and calm down on the sightseeing, instead catching up on my blog and spending a few days seeking to do relaxing and enjoyable things (in the nature of taking a bike ride) that will ease the burden of trying to stuff culture down my throat. On my train ride today I saw three of the cities that I had planned to visit over the next couple of days, which is what has freed up my schedule a bit. (I guess that the way to describe this is to call it a Germany overload. I hope to avoid doing this on future trips.)
I forgot to describe the third day of my trip, on which I saw Dusseldorf and Essen, to you, and I still have to tell you about Bonn and the Rhine, at which point I will have caught up on my blog! (I plan to see Frankfurt itself tomorrow.)
This is the foundation of a Roman amphitheater.
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