Well, that's what we did, and the tourist office had closed.
We hadn't eaten lunch either, and I was dismayed to see as we walked
300 metres to a hotel that Brian knew, to see that all of the shops
we passed were putting up their shutters. My husband explained that
the German Christmas Eve was the primary celebration for the family,
and that the Christmas meal was enjoyed during this same evening when
gifts were shared between family members.
I looked about me as we walked and
was disappointed in what I saw. The lack of decorations on buildings,
in shops, or even in streets, was a huge contrast to what we knew in
Australia. Brian again patiently explained that Christmas was more of
a personal celebration and not so much a public one, and that every
home would have its own beautiful decorations and a specially decorated
tree.
It was with relief that we found
somewhere to sleep. We checked in at our hotel, and asked there for
directions to a café where we could obtain lunch. The young man
handling our booking explained that because it was Christmas Eve all
other businesses were closed, but we should be able to obtain food at
MacDonald's. By now wild horses wouldn't stop me from going there. I
was starving and desperate. Christmas without the wonderful feast that
we had at home in Australia! No decorations! No festivities! What a
disaster! My heart was sinking by the minute. We then asked if he could
also recommend a restaurant for that evening's meal, or if they served
meals in the hotel. He kindly explained that if we went to The Travellers'
Aid, we would be able to obtain an evening meal, and he provided us
with a map and directions. The ominous words "no room at the inn"
kept repeating themselves in my brain, but the Nativity Scene in front
of the church near MacDonald's was a comfort as we walked by. It really
was Christmas, and it was going to be alright.
In any case I knew that I was always
irritable when I was cold and hungry, and at that stage I was both.
Just before the doors were locked for the day we obtained a hamburger
and apple pie with coffee, and although it wasn't Christmas fare, it
satisfied my cravings. As we left MacDonald's we wished the young staff
Happy Christmas, and began at last to take an interest in the surroundings.
Koblenz is a lovely city situated at the confluence of the Rhine and
Moselle rivers. It has interesting German architecture, wonderful riverside
walks and a magnificent Weindorf or wine village on the banks of the
river, which of course was closed for Christmas. Staying in Koblenz
would allow us to travel by train alongside the Rhine to Trier to see
the castles of the Rhine and visit some nearby towns and cities. It
is a romantic part of Germany.
Preparations were taking place at
the Travellers' Aid restaurant as we arrived to reserve a table for
dinner that evening. Our halting German was a handicap, of course, but
we believed that our request for a table for dinner at 7 pm had been
clearly understood, and we were told to return whenever we were ready.
This was more encouraging. I had seen people putting up decorations,
setting up tables and moving chairs about, and began to muse over what
type of German wine we would have with our evening meal, especially
as it would take the place of Christmas dinner. Not only that, it was
to be our first Christmas together as a couple. The walk through the
darkened empty streets only revealed chinks of light peeping out from
behind the curtains of apartments, or homes above commercial premises
where I imagined young children excitedly opening all manner of mysterious
things, and mothers bending over crisp brown roasting birds as they
tested them for readiness in the oven, with delicious roasting vegetables
crackling away. I had visions of the steaming Christmas pudding with
brandy sauce and silver coins, and I felt cold, slightly miserable and
shut out. I sniffed the air for the aroma of cooking dinners but found
nothing.
We climbed the steep flight of stairs
at the Travellers' Aid building to find that things were abuzz there.
Candlelight flickered on tables as we entered and told the person who
greeted us that we had made a booking for dinner. We were ushered to
a long table at which many people were seated, and squeezed in between
others whose meal was obviously partly over. Waiting for a menu so that
we could make our choices, we were a little surprised when plates of
sandwiches appeared in front of us, with platters of German sausage
and cheese. There was obviously to be no choice. A child was soon at
our elbows offering bottles of orange or lemon soft drink, which we
accepted with gratitude. The sandwiches and sausage were followed by
large bowls of orange mandarins and plates of Stollen, the German Christmas
cake. The conversation all around us was being conducted, naturally
enough, in German, and we hardly understood a word of what was being
said, but eventually someone nearby asked in English where we came from,
and a cultural exchange began. The conversation was interrupted when
an announcement was made and a young woman in a wheelchair rolled forward
to a microphone. She opened up a bible and read the Nativity story.
This was followed by a group of young people accompanied by a guitar,
and singing "Hark the herald angels sing". Seated next to
me were an elderly woman and her son who was blind, and across the way
was a woman with an older child with Down's syndrome. At the other end
of the large room was a group of scruffy looking - and slightly rowdy
- men, whose drink of choice would obviously have been anything other
than orange or lemon drinks, especially on a night such as this. As
more people came to the microphone to entertain in some way, or just
to make a little speech, it became clear to us that we had accidentally
become part of something quite profound. After all, it was the Holy
Family who first had no place to go on that first Christmas Eve.
At the conclusion of the evening
we thanked our hosts for a wonderful experience and offered to pay for
our meal or even to make a donation, but our wallets were waved aside.
We felt like imposters and found it difficult to accept their generosity,
especially since our tourist experience told us that there were usually
many people only too keen to take our money. Instead we received a gift
of bread, sausage, cheese and a small Stollen to take home with us,
and we had nothing to give in return.
The atmosphere created in that place
was an experience I will never forget and we walked home in the freezing
cold air, past the Nativity scene all lit up by the cathedral; content,
holding hands and finding that our words choked in our throats. The
words of the carol came to me again as we walked back to our hotel.
"Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright." I
still feel humbled by the memory of this = night, and wonder how I could
have missed the whole point of Christmas, up until then, when the realization
of our surroundings, the meal and just what it meant became obvious
to me. The following day was spent in historic and beautiful Heidelberg.
We joyfully phoned our children at home in Australia, from a public
phone in the University Square (made famous by the musical "The
Student Prince." We celebrated with a magnificent Christmas lunch
of venison and redcurrant sauce and vegetables, Black Forest cake for
dessert and accompanied by a fruity white German wine. However, nice
as it was, it is the previous evening that will remain forever indelible
in my memory.
There had been a place for us at
the feast after all.
©
