Easter Weekend in the Black Forest with a Roman, a couple of Spaniards and a mess of Germans

Although I may have the felt the absence of my uncle each day I was in Germany, I was at no loss for companionship. My steady travel companion of recent years, N, was beside me for all of the trip, early morning walks notwithstanding. In addition to his company, the timing of our trip proved to be ideal in that we got to see some European friends who also just so happened to be in the Black Forest for the holiday weekend.

I mean, seriously. What are the odds?

We arrived at our destination, Freiburg, in the late afternoon on Good Friday. Barely an hour later we were exchanging hugs and raising glasses of bier as we began our holiday celebrations. It was great. After dinner, we walked around the historic center of the city on quiet streets our voices echoing off the cobblestones under our feet.

Saturday morning I found my way to the market at the Munsterplatz. I had promised myself that I would return to the wurst stand I had visited on a previous trip to once again sample the traditional sausage, with grilled onions, that my uncle and aunt had enjoyed during their lives. While it was not my typical breakfast option, I thoroughly appreciated each bite.

The act of filling my stomach also filled both my heart and soul.

Our plan for Saturday was a visit to one of Alsace’s most beautiful cities, Strasbourg. It’s been more than 20 years since I’d been there, which made N and I both almost equally unfamiliar with navigating the streets of this gorgeous French city. Our day was spent soaking in the French/German vibes with plenty of stops along the way to sample local cuisine, mostly with good results.

There was a terrific snack of Alsatian wines and local cheeses at a lovely wine bar, which provided the perfect fortification for an afternoon of walking. The fabulous cathedral remains as impressive as I recalled and we devoted a fair amount of time to its interior trying our best to absorb its magnificence, mesmerized by the stained glass windows. Dinner was a bit of a fail in terms of quality, but our perch near the water provided a view that almost made up for the subpar food we were served. Next time we will book our return train tickets for later in the evening which will provide us with more numerous, and assuredly better, dining options.

Easter morning was foggy and damp in Freiburg. We gave ourselves the gift of a slow morning, eating our pastry and coffee together at “home,” in our ideally located airbnb. It doesn’t take long for us to find our rhythm on vacation with N preferring to laze a bit later in bed, while I get some fresh air solo to start my day. Despite the holiday, I was pleasantly surprised on my walk to be able to find a decent bakery open and, as always, I bought too much.

Confession: I often struggle when it comes to selecting food, be it from a bakery or a restaurant menu. I want it all.

Mass at the Munster, the same cathedral where two of my great aunts and one of my aunts were nuns, began at noon and we got there right before the first hymn. While neither of us are particularly religious, we both enjoyed the service. The interior of the gothic, red stoned church is beautiful and I’ve always appreciated the rituals of mass, particularly the scent of incense. 

We had dinner reservations with my family at 6:00 at a pizza place in Neustadt, a short train ride away. Along the way, I planned a stop in Titisee for a walk and to show N what I’ve come to think of as the Black Forest’s much cuter version of Lake George. Although the morning skies in Freiburg were foggy, the afternoon forecast predicted brightening skies and we were met with bright sunshine when we got off the train 45 minutes after boarding.

The sun and the holiday combined to make for busy sidewalks and cafes, but we got lucky and scored seats on a lovely terrace looking out on the water. The biers were great and went perfectly with the flamkuchen we enjoyed as an afternoon snack. It really was perfect.

The afternoon passed far too quickly. While I was happy to have had the opportunity to revisit yet another place to which I had been introduced by my uncle, I wished for a couple more hours of sitting outside with the sun on my face. Thinking ahead to Tuesday’s planned long train ride to Berlin, we stopped into one of the stores featuring locally made specialities and purchased a few cured and smoked meats along with cheese, bread and mustard to take for an onboard picnic.

Then it was time for dinner with the family, both genetic and selected. Our group came together at the same restaurant where some of us had previously gathered on the same holiday 7 years earlier. This year’s assortment included two of my mother’s brothers and one of her sisters,* along with an array of cousins.

In recent months my mother has given me several shoe box sized containers filled with photos, documents and newspaper clippings. Many of the photos are old and most came without indication of who was pictured, much less where or when they had been taken. I had brought an enveloped with some of the most compelling pictures and took the opportunity to spread them out on the table to see if anyone might be able to identify the subjects.

Bringing those photos along was one of the best ideas I’ve ever had. Watching my family carefully looking at pictures and then having them explain who was featured or what the occasion had been, was a wonderful experience. My Aunt Klara (left photo) was at least as thrilled as I was when she saw the picture in my hands. It captured her as a young mother with one of her daughters many years ago. Another picture of my Uncle Gerhard with his wife and firstborn child, revealed that they just might have been a little bit hippy-ish. It was great.

The evening ended far too soon, but the elderly were getting tired and we had a train to catch back to Freiburg. Easter is all about spring and the return to life. Our weekend most certainly provided moments that captured both beautifully.

Still to come…Easter Monday!

*10 days later when my Aunt Brigitte died, this aunt became the last of my mother’s sisters alive. My mother, at nearly 86, is now the oldest surviving sibling of what was originally a family of 15.