Took the train from the Franz-Josefs Train Station on the northern side of Vienna to Krems am der Donau about 45 miles upstream on the Danube River. This town in at the western end of the in the part of the Danube River valley known as the Wachau. For about 25 miles upstream from here the river winds among steep hills and mountains on either side. At Krems am der Donau I took another train to Durnstein, just four or five miles further on.


The Danube upstream from Durnstein
This tiny walled village is famous for its castle where Richard the Lion Hearted was held captive after he was seized by the Austrians on his way back to England from the Third Crusade. (I am referring here of course to the Crusades of the eleventh and twelfth centuries, and not the current Crusade led by George “Hulagu” Bush.) As you will probably recall from reading about these crusades, Richard was one of the European leaders who recaptured Acre in 1191. He and the French King Philip II decided to split the booty between them and froze out the other European participants in the battle. When the Austrian Duke Leopold V tried to raise his flag in captured Acre, Richard tore it down and threw it in a ditch. Unfortunately, on his way back to England his ship wrecked in the Adriatic Sea and Richard had to travel overland through Austria. He tried to disguise himself, but he was not the kind of person who could travel inconspicuously. He threw around a lot of money, wore fancy cloths (especially gloves), and was legendarily handsome, which of course caught the eye of the ladies and outraged a lot of jealous swains. He was eventually found out in Vienna, taken captive, and placed in a cell at the Durnstein castle.


The Castle where Richard the Lion Hearted was held, from the village of Durnstein.
Here the famous minstrel known as Blondel, who had formerly been a companion of Richard’s, sashays onto the stage. According to one account he was searching up and down the Danube for his master from whom he had earlier become separated. Then when he was passing through Durnstein he starting singing one of his old songs which he and Richard had once sung together. Amazingly a voice from the cell of the Durnstein Castle took up the refrain. Thus alerted to Richard’s presence, Blondel hurried back to England and raised a ransom for Richard’s release. Richard finally did make it back to England.


Close-up of the ruins of the castle

Now in Munich, or Munchen as the locals call it. Came here yesterday from Nuremburg, after a weekend in Berlin. Got into Berlin on Saturday and took the U-Baan to Rathaus Steglitz where there was a meeting scheduled for seven o’ clock in the evening with Alexander Berzin, the author of Taking the Kalachakra Initiation and a well-known translator of Tibetan texts. I was standing in the hall of the small Buddhist center there when who should walk in but my friend Ms. T. from Paris. Oddly, I was at first not at all surprized to see her. It was like, “Oh, there’s Ms. T.” Then about two seconds later it struck me: “What a minute! What is Ms. T. doing here in Berlin? She lives in Paris.” Ms. T. soon explained. While in Freiburg I had sent her a message mentioning that I was only 30 kilometers from the French border – I had last emailed here from Mongolia - but that unfortunately I was unable to come to Paris because that weekend I had to be in Berlin. So it turns out that Ms. T. also planned to be in Berlin that weekend. She emailed me and said we should met. Unfortunately I did not check my email before going to the Berzin meeting, so I did not know she was in Berlin. I had mentioned to her that I was going to the meeting, however, and there was a link on my website to Berzin’s website. She checked Berzin’s website and got the address of the meeting and came to met me, bringing in tow her friend Herr F. I had last seen her when we parted in the airport at Chengdu, China after our trip to Lhasa, Tibet for the New Year’s Eve.

Anyhow, she did not want to stay for the lecture from Berzin, so we agreed to meet in downtown Berlin at 10:30 later that evening. At the meeting we recited one of the Kalachakra texts and then Dr. Berzin made a lengthly commentary on a few of the key lines. I hope to have more on this on at Legend of Shambhala soon. He ended up talking until almost 10:30, and then I showed him some Tibetan texts which Lama Gombo had given me in Ulaan Baatar. They turned out to be various commentaries on the Kalachakra Tantra written in Tibetan by Mongolian monks, plus one short guidebook to Shambhala, also written by a Mongolian.

I did not get back downtown until 11:30. Ms. T. had been to my hotel and left a note staying we should met in the morning. Sunday morning we had breakfast at the Potemkin Café in Charlottenburg (a district of Berlin for you non-Berliners) and then Ms. T.s friend, Herr F., was kind enough to drive us to Potsdam, outside of Berlin, where of course Frederick the Great had built his huge palace and garden complex. So we spent most of the afternoon strolling around the grounds, along with several thousand other people. Potsdam is probably best known now – at least to Americans- as the site of the post-war Potsdam Conference held in July and August of 1945 beween Winston Churchill, Joseph Stalin, and Harry Truman.


Sanssouci (“Without Worry” in French), built in 1745, was the Prussian King Frederick the Great’s first palace at Potsdam.

The Kaiserburg, the old fortress overlooking the city of Nurnburg. The original parts of the fortress date back to the eleventh century.

From Berlin I took the train down to Nurnburg (Nuremburg), next to Freiburg the nicest city I have visited in Germany. Here is the Haupt Markt, with the steeples of St. Sebaldus in the background.

The Chinese Tea House at Potsdam. Built in the 1750s, the statues are supposed to represent Chinese people as depicted in contemporary travel accounts.

The Neues Palais at Potsdam
Spent most of Sunday afternoon at Potsdam, the digs established by Frederick the Great just outside of Berlin.

My apologies to the people of Berlin: the Severed Head Story mentioned below was datelined Berlin but it actually happened in Uebach-Palenberg, a small town near Aachen, and not in Berlin as I intimated. In fact I had a great time in Berlin, details to follow . . .

Despite the entry below I am on my way to Berlin. Left Schluchsee this morning, spent two hours in Freiburg, then caught a train to Nuremburg, where I am now. Will be in Berlin tommorrow. It's a helluva world we live in when a guy can't go out for a beer and a bratswurst without stumbling over a severed head . . .

Just when you thought it was safe to go back to Berlin this happens: Man Arrested with Severed Head Says Was Provoked. "A man arrested after walking through town swinging the severed head of his sister-in-law by the hair told police she had provoked him, German prosecutors said on Wednesday," reads this story in part.

Took the train up into the Black Forest. Passed through the highest train station in Germany, Feldberg-Barantal, at 3204 feet. The highest mountain in the Black Forest is the nearby Feldburg, at 4882 feet. Continued on to Schluchsee, located on a glacial lake several miles long. It a highly developed spick and span little place chockablock with hearty German tourist types. Lots of gravel-paved hiking trails - actually roads, cars could travel them with no problem, with informational signs about every 300 feet. Despite this most of the hikers are in full “Alpine Hiking” regalia, heavy books, two hiking sticks, day packs bigger than I would take on a 28 day trek in the Himalayas. The women all seem to have legs like Olympic shot-putters.

Caught the 10:10 flight down to Stuttgart, 50 minutes flying time, then caught a train to Freiburg, two hours traveling time. Was in Freiburg, in the heart of the Black Forest by 3:15. Whew! Yesterday morning I was in Ulaan Baatar. Walked from train station to the Munsterplatz, the square in the middle of town. In the middle of the square is the the Munster (cathedral), an immense redstone pile with an incredible bell tower which art historian Jacob Burckhardt called “The greatest in all of Christendom.” I don’t know how high it is; It certainly rivals or exceeds the south bell tower of St. Stephans in Vienna (known affectionately as "Little Steffl" to the locals), which is 484 feet high. The church itself is over 800 years old and, like St. Stephens, miraculously survived World War II bombing which flattened areas just hundred of feet away (they did not have “smart bombs” in those days). Checked into an inn right on plaza, on the north side, with a great view of the church from my window.

Are Berliners really nuts? We report, you decide.

Old Berlin and New Berlin
This is the Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedachtniskirche (for you non-Teutons, that’s the Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church), dating from the late 19th century. It was heavily damaged in a British bombing raid in November, 1943. The remains have been preserved as a war memorial. Berliners, who seem to have an nickname for everything, call it the “Broken Tooth.” The new tall building next is it is bell tower, replacing the now-missing bell tower of the old church. Berliners call this the “Lipstick”. There are always a lot of street musicians playing around here, including the ubiquitous Peruvian flute players (apparently Peru’s biggest export) and Black rap singers.

Well, I really have a hard time staying in any one place for more than a month; three months is the absolute max. I had been in Mongolia for almost three months so it was definitely time to wander. Yesterday I took the plane to Berlin, Germany. I thought I might head south and do a little hiking in the Black Forest around Freiburg. It’s about a six hour flight to Moscow, where the plane makes a stop-over. Not much new at the airport, although I did notice that now you can buy vodka in three-foot long bottles shaped like rifles. You pour out of the barrel. These might impress somebody, perhaps Chechen warlords. From Moscow to Berlin is 2 hours 18 minutes. Beautiful spring day, gorgeous blue skies in downtown Berlin. Strolled down the Ku Damm (the main shopping street, although in Germany almost all stores are closed on Sundays) and checked out what may be the world’s biggest internet café - over 350 computers, open 24 hours a day, seven days week, and with its own in-house Dunkin Donuts outlet. Is this Heaven or what? Signs at each computer terminal say, in English, “Your mother does not work here. Clean up after yourself.” By then I was suffering from jet lag – seven hours time difference between UB and Berlin, so at four in the afternoon it was eleven at night by my watch, and I had gotten up at four in the morning UB time. So I was bushed. Sat in a sidewalk café watching the crowds for a couple of hours and then hit the hay.