I was approaching my fifth week in Europe as my trip to Europe came full circle. I crossed the brown Danube River on June 22, 1972 exactly 30 years after Germany invaded Russia. Nuremberg is a little confusing because it's actually composed of several small towns and I found myself crossing one or two little rivers to the main part of town. I noticed U.S. Army troops there for the first time outside Frankfurt. One G.I. told me on the train that he loved Germany because he had a cushy job and was dating the commander’s daughter. Another said he didn’t do much and wanted to go back to Alabama.
I met an odd Australian couple who were heading to Copenhagen with a baggage train a mile long. The lady talked a blue streak and said they had a son who attended Harvard. What they were doing riding second class is beyond me. You meet a lot of other curious people around train stations besides passengers like the smart-aleck waiter: “Very good meal for movie star looking guy. You from Beverly Hills? Have many cherries here.” I made it worse by telling him I had a headache and just wanted a glass of milk. You should have heard the outrage on that one. I didn’t dare tell him my last name.
Someone said something about Nuremberg Castle having a hostel so I climbed up the hill and on my way I saw the most beautiful girl in the world. She wore clogs, a miniskirt, and had on one of those revealing Farrah Fawcett halter tops. She made the climb a lot easier and when I arrived, the view of Nuremberg was also breathtaking. As I looked east I saw where the Nazi Party rallies took place among the glistening white granite slabs of the old stadium. The 1934 movie, Triumph of the Will, which is probably the most important political documentary film in history, faithfully records the old city at street and roof levels. It was incredible to ponder that 87% of the city below me was destroyed by bombing. Many years later I recognized the market area and some of its winding streets from the film. It was apparent the post-war reconstruction was faithful to Nuremberg’s original appearance. The only thing I didn’t like about the castle was the cold showers. What should have I expected for 6 DM?
Afternoons leave backpackers free and my first stop was at Albrecht Duer’s house and museum. Despite my appreciation for art and engraving, I found Duer’s overrated when compared to painting; maybe it’s because Europe is so packed with good art (unlike America) that some of it loses its appeal. I had also promised my next door neighbors in Kansas City that I would visit their niece and her family, the Dressler’s, who lived south of the train station. I went over to their place and found it small compared to American standards. Other than the pleasantries she was worried that the Americans might leave Germany and allow the Soviets to move in just like they did in Czechoslovakia. I closed the day with the pleasant discovery of a Wimpey Bar.
I was booked to leave Europe in two days. I guess there is a time when the traveler in you gets tired and surmises that you’ve seen enough or perhaps have had enough. There were days when I ran out of money not because of its lack, but because I could not cash my Traveler’s Checks like the situation in Paris. In Nuremberg I was down to 20 pfennigs. Call it stress. There was also a certain melancholia that probably comes from fatigue. At sunset on the west side of Nuremberg Castle I gazed at two night birds swooping over the dry moats as a distant plane soaring westward made me think of home.
