TRAVEL: The Turtle Tour of Strasbourg and Nuremberg

Day One: The Christmas Market Mission

On the 1st September 2014, Turtle sent our group of friends an email inviting us on a tour to see both the oldest and largest Christmas markets in Europe. Those particular honours belonged to Strasbourg and Nuremberg respectively, and with fond memories of gluwein, soft snow, pork knuckle and steins of beer from previous trips, I quickly said "yes!". Wilson and Hoa did the same, and after careful consideration, Turtle granted us permission to join and began making arrangements. About a week later Rebecca said she wanted to come, crashing in on the email thread. This was met by a chilling silence. We half-expected never to see Rebecca again, having violated one of Turtle's sacred commandments ('thou replies immediatelies'), but he let her down lightly.

"Dear Rebecca,

You can't come. You ruin my plans. Never speak to me again.

Sinceres
Turtle"

So the four of us it was for what was sure to be a Turtle specialty tour of epic proportions! 

Standing at the train platform on the morning of departure, I started to wonder if something had happened to Turtle. I had watched two trains go past and missing another would make it touch-and-go at the airport. Turtle has a very specific morning preparatoire so can sometimes be a little slow out the blocks (hence the nickname). He self-cultivates himself with precision, and is only ever seen as he wants to be seen. That wasn't the issue in this instance (he was battling a rail ticket machine) and he soon arrived in time for us to meet up with Wilson and Hoa for the flight to Strasbourg. 

I don't often mention tales of transit in these accounts, but experienced a first with this flight, and not a particularly nice one. For some reason, (and I'm still not sure why), the plane adopted a horizontal descent for landing. What I mean by this, is instead of a normal plane going down in a nicely angled, downward approach, our pilot shifted side-to-side pretty much all the way down. It was like he was performing an aeronautical line-dance/hoe-down. I didn't even know jumbo jets could manoeuvre like that. I'm still not sure they can, and it was most unnerving.

"Turtle we're going to die!"

"Turtle has shell. Turtle swims."

"We're flying over land!"

"Turtle swims land."

The QueasyJet managed to eventually land safely and after a short train ride we were in Strasbourg!

The strange thing (I found) about being in Strasbourg is that it doesn't feel like you're in France. The city has a very Germanic feel about it. It's name, the architecture, the locals, the fact they have Christmas markets etc. It's about as close to Germany as you can get without being there, separated only by the Rhein. I mean it has bits of Franco influence here and there, mostly reflected in the modern structures (this is stuff I read at the tourist centre), but for the most part it felt like it belonged to the Germans.

The town itself is a very picturesque, or would've been in nice weather (grey skies and cold don't complement anything). Encircled by the river, it has the magnificent medieval bridge Ponts Courverts at its tip as the showpiece. We gazed and took our photos and noticed it was peculiarly quiet around us. We had arrived mid-afternoon but the streets were almost empty. Bereft of people. Odd. Without pausing to dwell on the thought, we decided we were hungry, and after struggling to find a restaurant that was actually open, we stumbled across a chain-type bistro and took a table.

The food was actually better than expected. I've had a few food-related mishaps in recent times, so tend to go for conventional choices. Hoa and Turtle went for the traditional dish of the town (some kind of cheesy, gnochi/pasta dish with ham) whilst Wilson went full monty with the beef tartare. The portions too were fairly decent I thought.

"It's like a starter."

Turtle's slightly more demanding nutritional requirements are borne from childhood, growing up in the jungles in Borneo. As an active child, one has an active appetite. In Borneo a normal meal would consist of captured monkey (consumed bones and all), its slightly digested stomach contents savoured for dessert. We dilly-dallied with our meal a little bit before Turtle realised the time.

"Oh shit. We got to goes!"

"Where?"

"The churches!"

"Huh? Why?"

"The performance of a lifetimes!"

The church Turtle was referring to was the monumentally gothic Strasbourg Cathedral, also known as Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Strasbourg. The performance he was referring to was that of the giant clock inside, which on the hour supposedly springs to life with its ornamental characters putting on a show. It sounded much like the one I had seen in Prague and it had Turtle pretty excited.

"This is going to be a performance of a lifetimes!"

As soon as we stepped outside the restaurant, Turtle started running. Just up and ran, leaving the three of us, Wilson, Hoa and I, with no choice but to up and go after him. The Cathedral was about 20mins stroll from where we were but Turtle was determined to get there in good time. Now I'm not one to shy away from a bit of physical excursion (the lads at Tuesday night football call me "Christiano non-stop"), but the sun had completely disappeared and the howling arctic gale was blowing a sub-zero wind in full force. This was why there were no locals around! Because they knew the (snowless) blizzard of the century was coming!

"Hard up. Run faster. It keep you warm like fresh monkey skin."

It was freezing. At one point it got so bad I felt like quoting as Oates to Scott "I am just going outside and may be some time."  My feet weren't quite as gangrenous as Oates so I soldiered on and we finally made it to the Cathedral... 15mins early.

"We're early!?!"

"We need time to get a good spot."

60 seconds later.

"Turtle got a good spot"

There were a few people gathered around the giant clock but not all that many making our sprinted effort, rather needless. We got so bored waiting we had a quick look around the Cathedral itself which was Cathedrally impressive as they typically are in Europe. Just for once, I'd like to see a really crap Cathedral. One where the paintings are rubbish because there were no good artists in the town. Where the stained glass windows are just windows because they didn't know how to get the colour in. One where the ceilings are low because they were too lazy to spend 50 years in construction... Just for a bit of difference you know?...

We soon returned back to our spots.

"It's a showtime!"

There was a hushed silence in the crowd as the clock approached the hour. Suddenly a floodlight shone from below, illuminating the glorious apparatus. Turtle yelled out.

"This a fucking awesome!!!"

The light revealed an array of medieval characters, cogs and wheels, bells and whistles. This was surely going to be a the spectacular show, Turtle had promised.

Over the silence we heard a feint chime. Then another. Where was it coming from?

"Where's the dong coming from?"

"Up and to the left Turtle! Off yonder to the left!"

"What the fuck a yon?... There it is!"

We had spotted it. A dainty little guard, hitting a tiny little bell. How delightful! It was the beginning of the show. We waited anxiously for the next act...

The floodlight slowly dimmed out. The drama I thought! It must be for a set change. What drama!

More silence. A murmur. A communal scratching of the head and shared sigh before the crowd started to disperse. The four of us stood there confused. Wilson pipped up.

"Really?... Is that it?.."

"I think it is..."

Turtle was not pleased.

"That's a bullshit! I only saw one dong. I only saw one dong!"

Alas, that was it. We should have probably guessed that the lack of a crowd, meant lack of spectacle. I'm going to give the clock the benefit of the doubt and speculate it does a whole lot more at specific times in the day, but for us it was bitterly disappointing.

"Where's my matches!"

In Borneo most grievances are resolved by fire, but at the end of the day the trip wasn't about seeing a clock performance (or lack thereof). The mission was for the Christmas Markets, which is where we quickly turned our attention, after Turtle calmed down... eventually.

Strasbourg has the oldest Christmas markets in the world. There were several scattered throughout the city and we had a look at a few. In all honesty it was a little disappointing. The markets felt more of the 'flea' variety than the Christmas, specialising in back-of-the-truck goods. There was the usual gluvein and heated blanch, brockwursts and bratwursts, toffee apples and other assorted sweets, but it was all pretty much the same stuff, stall to stall. 

We indulged in this foot-long hotdog but it was drenched in so much liquid cheese, I had to throw half mine out, saving the sausage (always got to save the sausage).

We were completely exhausted after this (plus it wasn't getting any warmer) so went back to the hotel via a Carrefour picking up 16 rather cute 150ml Heinekin stubbies and playing a card game called 'Bastard' which is similar to 'Last-card' but the loser is called the 'Bastard'. The best quote of the night came from Turtle, as it often does, when he yelled out in frustration: 

"It doesn't matter what I do, I'm still going to be the bastard!". 

He would become a quadruple-bastard by the end of the night. It hadn't been his day.

Day Two: A Happy Man

We set off early for Nuremberg by train at 9:30am. It's a four hour ride with a one hour stop in Stuttgart. My last winter experience in Germany was met with a blanket of snow so my expectation for this trip was for more of the same. Strasbourg was about as cold as you could get without it actually snowing. Nuremberg by the time we arrived, was comparatively balmy. Warmer than London in fact! It was welcome relief, allowing us to lose a few layers.

We dropped our things off at the hotel Turtle had booked for us. It was a cheap deal in the middle of the only red light district street in the city. The building itself had the heir of one with past glory, now just barely maintained. The man at the front desk seemed to be the only member of staff in the entire hotel but was helpful nevertheless, pointing out where we were and what to see.

Nuremberg is a small city with a handful of sites so we decided to check out Nuremberg Castle on the high ground for views of the city against sunset. To get there we went via Nuremberg's first lot of Christmas markets (the largest in the world) to inspect the festive offerings they had on offer.

The Nuremberg markets were a lot busier than the ones in Strasbourg and superior in quality too. There was more variety with regards to arts and crafts, food and other delicacies. There was a stand-out moment en-route to the Castle when we spotted and stopped by a big Staedler store (not part of the actual markets). So grand it was we couldn't resist but inspect. The store was great. They had all sorts of things going on. A traditionally dressed wood shaver in the window, stationery galore, and pencils, oh the pencils. Of every type and variety you could imagine. This was like the German equivalent of the Apple stores you see in the UK. 

"Come take a look das wunderbar pencils yah. Do you know Staedler? They are the supremely best pencils in das world. Deutsche engineering yah." 

They were ever so proud of them.

We reached Nuremberg Castle on the stroke of sunset, the perfect moment for some photo taking. That's when Turtle whipped it out.

"What the hell is that?... " - Yohei

"You're kidding me..." - Wilson

Turtle stared at us both, cool and steely eyed.

"Selfie-stick bitches!"

Along with his DSLR, his iPhone and iPad, Turtle had packed a selfie-stick with a mounted GoPro. A fully equipped Asian. The thing is Turtle wasn't even using the selfie-stick to take selfies. He was using it to shoot over the crowds. I asked Turtle how he knew what he was shooting (the GoPro had no viewfinder).

"I just knows."

I got a couple of nice shots with my humble Fuji X10 and it was back towards the markets to find some food.

The German staple is one of the reasons I love the place so much. Meat and beer. If I lived there I'd probably last about 18 months before a coronary, but during short visits I like to indulge. I had one pre-trip goal before this trip and that was pork knuckle and stein (man of simple pleasures). I found a charming little eatery for us to try and we stepped in. Pork knuckle they had! We were happy. In Germany they serve it with Sourkraut, diced cabbage soaked in vinegar, which on its own is quite sharp, but in combination, quite pleasant. They didn't have steins so had to settle for regular pints but the brew was still very good. The owner was quite a character and very much liked the look of Hoa, but amused us all and told me that I was sitting in the seat of two former chancellors (they reserve it for dignitaries that step in the premises).

Turtle had been eyeing up the Bavarian dressed wenches serving us over the course of his beverage muttered:

"You have to help me get one of the waitresses..."

"Aye?"

"A photo... You have to help me get a photo with one of the waitresses."

I subsequently forgot to do this when it came time to leave but luckily Hoa was on hand to whisper into Turtle's favourite one "He wants to marry you" and she was more than happy to oblige. With the photo that is, not marriage. Turtle came back the happiest I think I've ever seen him.

"That's a score ow." - Yohei

"Fuck yeah!" - Turtle

We walked around the Christmas markets some more, got a mulled wine (Turtle was chopped by this stage) then tried to find a place that would serve us the stein that Wilson and I were now desperate for. In Germany, food and drink go hand in hand so we really struggled to find a place that catered for beverage-seeking patrons. Defeated we got some supermarket bevies and returned back to the room. But Wilson and I were discontented by this and headed back out, determined to find the steins. In the end the answer was right under our noses at a tavern of sorts, not 5 minutes away. We approached the heavyset, no-nonsense frauline at the bar and asked if they local brew in a large size.

"They only come in my small glasses!" She proclaimed strongly before pulling out two beautifully massive 1L stein mugs and slamming them on the bench. Awesome!

We returned to the hotel where, in quite a boozed state, got well into the supermarket bevies, Wilson and I struggled against a sober and alert Hoa and a Turtle in games of Bastard that then ensued. I'm not going to lie, I was definitely the worst of the lot, losing many times.

"Hahaha! Yohei's a quintuple bastard!!!" - Turtle

To this day, Turtle still rides this moment. This victory is his greatest, proudest, life achievement bar none. 

Day Three: The Nuremberg Trials

Our third and final day was a Wilson-motivated history lesson with a visit to the Documentation Centre Nazi Party Rally Grounds. It's a museum situated in the remains of the old Nazi Party Rally Grounds detailing the history of the Nazi's activity in the region. I didn't know much beyond the fact that the post-war trials took place there so it was a good opportunity to do some learning at the heart of where it all happened.

The museum itself is situated in a section of the Congress Hall, a huge structure built to accommodate an audience of 50,000 in its central opening. Although never completely finished, the shear enormity of the structure left you with no doubts about the effect they were going for. 

The exhibition itself was very interesting. I never realised the historical significance of Nuremberg to the Nazi regime as was described at the museum. The city's historical ties to the Holy Roman Empire were exploited and found expression via the huge political rallies they held there, vehicles themselves for party propaganda. There was a decent amount to take in as it went through this, the devastation suffered during the war (90% of the city was flattened by 1 hour of Allied bombing) and of course, the Trials themselves.

Turtle was done within about 60 minutes.

"Turtle done. I read everything. I going back to Old Town."

The rest of us were only about a third of the way through so spent the rest of the morning taking our time, and it was a good way to spend it.

Nothing much happened there on after. The three of us headed back into the City where we had one last feast (Pork Knuckle and Stein of course) before meeting up with Turtle at the airport and heading home.

All in all a great trip, especially Nuremberg. Good food, good drink, good sites and good Turtle. What more could one want.