Regensburg Day 1
For this last portion of the cruise, I was up before dawn hoping to spend more time with the river on its twisting trajectory. The sunrise through the moving shoreline trees reflected on the surface of the water flowing in the opposite direction.
Around one turn a grandiose architectural monument modeled on the Parthenon in Athens came into view. It’s called “Walhalla,” the incongruous Wagnerian name of the Hall of the Germanic Gods. The edifice was conceived by King Ludwig I of Bavaria in 1807 and constructed between1830 and 1842 as a Hall of Fame filled with busts of “laudable politicians, sovereigns, scientists and artists of the German tongue“–part of the effort to create a unified nationalist identity.
Soon we glided into Regensburg and docked within view of its Old Stone Bridge, built by the City in 1200 to facilitate trade between Europe and the Orient and repeatedly destroyed and reconstructed. Since its graceful arches were too small to allow for the modern commercial vessels plying the river, a parallel bypass canal now accommodates them and the crossing is reserved for pedestrians and bikes.
The complementary Viking shore tour took us to a remnant of the Roman wall built to protect the garrison posted here to maintain the borders of the Empire against barbarian incursions.
An exuberant wedding party was emerging from the secular ceremony inside the City Hall.
We witnessed the bride tossing her bouquet.
Our tour included some history of the Regensburg Jews. They formed a vigorous community as far back as the 11th century, but throughout the years changes in governing regimes of church and state brought about expropriations, expulsions and returns. During the 1930’s, they were persecuted by the Nazis and their sympathizers. Those who remained were deported to death camps.
We stopped to note a pair of Stolpersteine, “stumbling stones” marking the home of a family of victims, one of thousands of small memorials placed throughout Europe–first by a single artist and later by a growing organization of volunteers, who included our hosts last summer in my paternal ancestral village of Bodersweier.
A wall plaque commemorated the residence of Oskar Schindler, the German industrialist lionized in the Spielberg film, Schindler’s List, who dedicated himself to protecting as many as he could.
A gravestone inscribed in Hebrew and mounted high on a wall was not intended as a memorial but a trophy of the destruction of a Jewish cemetery.
An architecturally elegant monument marked the location of the prominent synagogue built in the 19th century and destroyed during the Nazi Krystallnacht pogrom.
After the tour, I headed down to the riverside for a snack at the “Historische Regensburger Wurstkuche,” the sausage kitchen which archaelogical evidence shows has been at this location for 850 years.
There I encountered the wedding reception and its oompah band.
Later in the day, I located what looked like an Apple store outside of the old town in order to get help with charging the new earpods I’d purchased just before the trip. Guided by the Google map, I walked a pleasant route on sidewalks outside medieval walls
and through lush parks
over a bridge past the railroad station
into a glittery shopping mall which housed a kiosk selling Apple products. The clerk showed me that all I had to do was hold the case against the phone and they automatically charged.
While meandering back to the river, I looked into the austere Albertus Magnus church, which reminded me of the man we had met on the Gullveig who was President of Albertus Magnus College in New Haven and his wife, who were surprised to hear of its presence.
The day concluded with a resplendent dinner on board and farewells to our table companions.