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| The Tree of Life - an old lime tree in the Town Square in Haiterbach |
The last few days were spent in a flurry of visiting and cake eating as I said fond farewells to many of my relatives. Once again, I will miss having so many people around to whom I have some kind of connection, although I was also missing my own little family back home. When I’m in Australia I miss these people and these landscapes.
That’s one of the problems of belonging to two cultures – one you are born into and another one in which you grow up. I feel certain that sometime in the future, science will discover that far from children being resilient and easily transplantable, sudden translocation and migration leaves a lasting trauma, especially if done in difficult circumstances.
I can tell you it's how you become a nomad, never quite at home in either. It does make you realise however, that culture is not a fixed and absolute thing and that other countries have found other ways to solve universal human problems. While it means you can never take anything for granted in the way that people who have known only one culture can that is, what you do and think is totally normal and anyone who deviates is weird, differences do make you question aspects of your own culture as well as always wondering what it’s like somewhere else.
On the last Sunday quite a few of us got together to visit Haiterbach, my mother’s hometown. Sadly, the ivy -covered pharmacy which had stood proudly on the edge of the market square had been burnt down during the war, but no doubt the Town Hall with its big old Tree of Life and the little church behind it, were witnesses to her family’s existence.
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| The Town Hall, the Fountain and the Church in Haiterbach |
Although not a big fan of big cathedrals and the like, I did like the simplicity of this little church where devotion was expressed – not in goldleaf, flying buttresses and elaborate ornamentation, but in perfect craftsmanship and loving maintenance. The woodwork gleamed. There were fresh flowers on the altar and in one alcove, there was a special place for parents and children which seemed a lot less intimidating than many churches I’ve visited.
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| Kid's Corner - note the knights and the toys |
One Last Castle
Afterwards we enjoyed a sumptuous Greek feast because most German businesses still close on Sundays and then we went to Hohen Nagold castle to walk it all off. Perched high on a hill with cliffs on three sides and the Nagold River on the other, the site was already in use by the Celts as early as 1400 BC. Subsequent fortifications were built by the dukes of Nagold in 1100 AD and during the C12th they were considerably expanded. For a while it was a residence, then an administrative centre and in the C17th, during the Thirty Years War, much of the castle was destroyed leaving the impressive ruins we see today.
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| The ruins of Hohen Nagold castle stand proudly above the town. The tower on the left was not only a dungeon but the place of last refuge. In the event of an attack, you climbed in and then took away the ladder |
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| Looking down one of the sheer sides |
The last place we visited was my aunt’s house where we lived for two years while Dad built the house in George Town (Tasmania). How small it looked now. At the time it had been newly built and with its two storeys, an attic and a basement, I thought it was the grandest place I had ever seen. Looking at it now made me feel like Alice looking through the wrong end of the looking glass.
The Twilight Zone
At 4.30 p.m. we set off for the airport. This time my cousin and her lovely nephew took me all the way in and checked in my luggage. They weren’t leaving anything to chance. By the time the bus finally arrived at the door of the plane, a heavy fog had descended on the Airport. Apparently it was even worse in Munich where I was supposed to pick up my next flight. Then there was a long wait. Suddenly the pilot burst out of the cabin and onto the bus. “Sorry, “he said, “We aren’t flying anywhere in this!”
The bus turned around, we all unloaded our luggage and then there was a rush to the customer service desk. There were quite a lot of people ahead of me at the counter. Some had already made arrangements before they even got off the bus. By the time I got to the front of the queue, all Lufthansa’s hotel rooms had been booked. They gave me a letter and said I’d have to make my own arrangements, but everything would be covered – hotel rooms, taxis to and from the airport and meals, until they could organise another flight.
I tried for a while, but everything was booked out, so I returned to the service desk. I was the last one there. The young lady behind the counter eventually found me a room – two in fact, but the first was much more expensive and would most likely not have been covered by the € 130 amount set by the airline in the letter. Instead, she chose Fritzies Art Hotel in Filderstadt, some distance from the airport.
It was now almost midnight and there was only one taxi left at the taxi rank. It left me at one of the more unusual places I have stayed in. There were succulents and mosaics everywhere. You don't get those at the Marriott. It took a while to find the owner and then I had to wait for an email from Lufthansa to find out what substitute flights had been arranged since I had now missed all my original connections.
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| At Fritzies Art Hotel in Filderstadt |
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| The bathroom |
At that hour there was nothing to eat at the hotel nor even in the little village and for once I was sorry there was no sign of the golden arches or even a service station that was open. I did have my coffee though and there was a kettle and even some milk. The email came at 2 a.m. I had to be at the Airport at 5.30 a.m. I booked a cab and set the alarm, but desperate as I was to have a lie down, I didn’t dare go to sleep lest I missed that flight in the morning.
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| Wish I'd had a chance to sleep in the bed |
I didn’t. After checking the luggage in again, I even had time for breakfast in one of the airport cafes. As Munich was still fogbound, I was now flying to Frankfurt and then with Etihad to Abu Dhabi instead of Munich to Singapore with Lufthansa, followed by a Qantas flight to Sydney.
Alas, Stuttgart was still fogbound in the morning, so the flight was delayed and by the time I arrived in Frankfurt, the Etihad flight had already left.. Frankfurt Airport is like a city with two terminals and 103 Gates. It processed 61.56 million passengers last year and is just adding a Third terminal. Someone sent me to the other terminal at first and by the time I arrived at the Lufthansa Customer Service desk to rebook, I was hobbling again.
At the Lufthansa desk, they rebooked my flights via Hong Kong and then Sydney with Cathay Pacific. This flight didn’t leave until 21.50 and the one from Hong Kong not until 19.10 the next day, to arrive in Sydney at 7 15 on the on the 8th - two days after I should have. When I told the young lady that the hotel, cab fares and food had taken nearly all my money I had as I hadn’t expected to spend much on the way home, she gave me a voucher for €15 so I'd be able to get a meal. Noting my fairly exhausted state, she also arranged for me to have assistance to get from arrivals to departures in Hong Kong. Thank you Sybille and also the lovely young lady who stayed behind in Stuttgart to find me a hotel.
I was stuck in Frankfurt Airport all day and a good part of the night. Only two places were open at the appointed boarding gate – a pretzel stand and a coffee shop, but neither would accept the voucher. I spent the rest of my money on one of each and they eventually closed too. Then this part of the terminal was practically deserted.
For many hours the only bit of excitement was the departure of an American Airways plane. Because of the US elections there were all kinds of additional security checks and the separation of anyone with military training. I walked the length of that terminal looking for somewhere to use the voucher. Although there were Travelators, at least one side if not both, were blocked off for maintenance. Eventually a very nice man in one of those golf carts picked me up and took me to a cafe which did accept the voucher and later in the night he returned to take me for a coffee to use the balance. He even waited for me until I finished. Between these excursions I also found a Gate Lounge which had four seats without arm rests and a place where I could charge my phone. It was heaven being able to lie down even for a little while.
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| Accidental trip to Terminal 2, after being misdirected |
[I wish I had known about Napcabs - these are like lockers you can sleep or work in, not that I could have afforded one, but I'll keep it in mind, should I ever come this way again].
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| Very few of the Travelators worked |
At 21.50 on the 6th the plane finally took off for the ten-hour flight to Hong Kong. Having first had to get new boarding passes in the lower levels –there were 12 altogether – it’s another very big airport, I was very grateful for the wheelchair which awaited me on arrival. I was then taken to the boarding gate on Level 10 and prepared for another long wait.
I was so relieved when I finally landed in Sydney the next morning. Not long now I thought – only 1 hour and 50 minutes and I would be in Hobart and my 63-hour ordeal would be over. Not so. There had been plane delays in Sydney too and since this was not the flight I had originally booked, my son had to pull a lot of strings to get me on a flight at all.
At 12.30 p.m. we were at last taxiing down the runway. The plane was packed. We’d just picked up speed for lift -off when suddenly something fell off a Qantas plane and set the grass on fire. Although the stricken plane managed to land safely, the smoke from the gathering fire was so thick that all planes had to be grounded. It was hot and sweaty in the plane. It was 260C in Sydney that day with 58% humidity and the airconditioning wasn't on. By the time our plane was given permission to leave, it had used so much fuel while waiting that even when we were allowed to go, it first had to go back to the terminal for refuelling. Finally, finally, Sorrel came into view and we touched down in Hobart at about 5.30 p.m.
That, my friends should have been the end of this story. Hope by the time the next reunion rolls around in ten years, I will have forgotten how awful this trip home was. It’s a bit like childbirth really.
Aftermath
I am still waiting for Lufthansa’s repayment of the initial costs as promised. It’s now been 4 months. Their website crashed twice early on and another submission failed. When my son was finally able to contact someone, they told him I should submit the receipts to their Sydney Office. Would someone please tell Lufthansa that their Sydney Office closed in 2016. In the meantime, I have resubmitted them via their website as instructed, but have heard nothing since. It would be helpful if Lufthansa at least had Contact information on their website.
I also still have unresolved issues with train booking service OMIO and Allianz Travel Insurance, but I am giving them the opportunity to do the right thing before I tell all here.
Hope you have enjoyed a few behind the scenes glimpses of Germany. Next week's post will be about a side trip to a less well -known part of Tasmania
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