Motherland Redux

Retiring from my career position at Eugene Water & Electric Board in late 2008, my immediate inclination was to travel to Europe -- Italy, in particular. My mother and grandmother had maintained a 50-year correspondence with their cousins, the Sanguinetis, and I was intrigued by the notion of attempting to locate the family in their somewhat remote location in a small village called Isolona in the Commune of Orero.

My sojourn to the Motherland, however, would need to wait. When my just-graduated daughter chose to teach English in South Korea for a year, and I procured a fellowship to teach public relations at Sojang University in Seoul, it was a done deal. After some initial culture shock, I adapted nicely and enjoyed every minute. My daughter visited from Busan, and I connected with several former UO students living in Seoul.

Though retired from EWEB, I would continue to teach public relations full time as a non-tenure track instructor at the University of Oregon School of Journalism and communication during the school year. The best part? Summers off. By spring, I had airline tickets and hotel reservations booked for Italy in summer, 2010. But still a rookie at international travel, I would have much to learn, and some of it the hard way.

My first mistake was flying into Milan late in the afternoon. As I waited outside the terminal at the bus stop, a cab driver took pity and told me: "No bus to Genoa." He then pointed me to a bus bound for the main train station in Milan. "You take train to Genoa." Negotiating with the ticket office, I secured a ticket to Genoa and barely made the train in time for the two-hour trip in the dark, arriving in Genoa at midnight.

After that experience, a bus trip to Isolona in the Commune of Orero would have been nigh impossible. My next trip to Italy, in 2013, would be slightly more productive. Thanks to our hotel proprietor, we hired a cab driver who spoke both English and Italian, and was proficient in Genovese, the local dialect. Unfortunately, as luck would have it, Liguria has more than one Orero, and we chose the wrong one.

Then, in 2014, my brother and his family visited Italy and they not only found Isolona, but also learned the son-in-law of Anna Sanguineti was mayor of the small village. He pointed out the Sanguineti home, but unfortunately, no one was home that day. But armed with new information, we ventured to Genoa once again in 2015. This time, with help from our cab driver, Andrea Giovanelli, we connected with the Sanguinetis.

We returned to Italy once again in 2018, and in addition to enjoying the sights, sounds and cuisine of Genoa, we took the boat excursion to Portovenere and made yet another pilgrimage to Isolona to see the Sanguinetis. Then, on 2020, we were all sidelined by the global pandemic, abruptly ending our annual excursions to destinations like Genoa, Turin, Barcelona, Munich, Zurich and Geneva. Now, in 2025, we were finally back.

Long Train Runnin'

In about a dozen trips to Europe or Asia since 2009, we've never rented a car: too expensive and frankly, too much trouble. Except for an occasional cab, traveling by train is the best way to go. This year, we travelled by train from Germany (Munich in Bavaria) to Italy (Bolzano in South Tyrol and Genoa on the Italian Riviera), about 300 miles.

Based on previous experiences, I have concluded that the most prompt and timely train service is in Switzerland and Germany. Italy and Spain? Not so much. Leaving Bolzano, we immediately fell behind schedule, missing our connections, first in Verona, then Milan and finally Turin. We eventually arrived in Genoa after 11 hours on trainsand terminals, tired but relieved.

Messner's Mountain Museum

In planning our European junket, we chose two destinations on either side of the Alps as beginning and end points: Bavaria and the Italian Riviera. We would land in Munich and spend a week exploring the area and touring the castles of King Ludwig II. From Munich, we hopped a train to Bolzano in South Tyrol to witness the splendor of the Dolomites and visit one of Reinhold Messner's renowned mountain museums.

Messner, of course, is the first to climb the fourteen 8,000-meter peaks in the world, all without the use of supplemental oxygen or high-altitude porters. In addition to his climbing exploits and extreme expeditions, he is the best selling author of 60 books and the founder of the Messner Mountain Museums, a collection of six mountain-themed exhibitions.

Since we were in Bolzano, we hopped in a cab to Firmian, the ancient castle with fortifications dating to 945 AD where Reinhold Messner established the centerpiece of his six mountain museums in South Tyrol. The menagerie, located on the hills immediately west of Bozano, explores the relationship between humans and mountains from a variety of spiritual, economic, philosophical and cultural perspectives.

The self-guided exhibition leads visitors a journey through walls, towers and plains, beginning in the depths, examining formation, rock and exploitation, then moves on to explore myths and religions before focusing on tourism and alpinism. Architecture, art and nature combine to weave a compelling narrative. The tour is not predetermined and participants may explore on their own and at their own pace.

The centerpiece of the six mountain museums, Firmian features a treasure trove of Tibetan art and exhibits on Tibetan life and culture, including shrine rooms, altars and deity statues.

The museum focuses on man's connection with the mountains.

Duolingo Dilemma

After a week in Munich, we initiated preparations for the next leg of our journey to Bolzano on July 29. Having already purchased our train tickets, we retired early. In the middle of the night, our phones buzzed with reckless abandon. We ignored tham at first, thinking it was another fraud alert on a credit card, but now awake, we started the process of preparing for a train trip through Austria to our destination in Italy.

Our phones were flooded with texts from family members asking if we were okay. Apparently, national news outlets had reported a fatal train crash in Munich. We responded that we were just fine, and that we would board our train to Bolzano shortly. We were only a few blocks away from the Hauptbahnhof (main train station) in downtown Munich, but we hailed a cab anyway because of our heavy bags. 

The five-hour trip from Munich to Balzano was picturesque farm land then mountains as we transitioned from Germany to Austria. The Tirol is one of those unique regions that began as part of the Holy Roman Empire, and eventually Austria-Hungary, until the conclusion of WW I, when the Kingdom of Italy seized the southern part of the region. For centuries, the region has been known for its heavy transit trade over Brenner Pass.

Arriving in Bolzano ("Bozen" in German), we waited for a cab and watched as numerous customers boarded taxis they apparently had ordered. Calling our hotel for assistance, they were unable to help and instructed us to call the cab company. Contacting the cab company, the recording noted: dial "1" for Italian and "2" for German. No English. Eventually, we commandeered a cab intended for someone else.

Munich Miscellany

Tooling around the city center of Munich is quite the rush. The city's core, closed to motorized vehicles, pulses with vibrancy and prosperity. Yet, despite its urbane sophistication, Munich maintains  a certain provincialism that visitors find charming. Locals insist that their metropolis, which tops out at more than two million residents, is little more than a world village. During Octoberfest, the city welcomes six million more to hoist a glass to the conclusion of harvest season.

Munich prospered as a salt-trading center but was slammed by the bubonic plague in 1349. The epidemic subsided only after 150 years, when locals initiated a ritualistic dances as a reminder of their good fortune. The dance is reenacted daily by the little figures on the city's "glockenspiel" in the Marienplatz. By the nineteenth century, Munich witnessed an explosion of monument building, providing the city with its compelling architecture and wide Italian-style avenues.

The situation reached the point of excess when King Ludwig II assumed the Bavarian throne in 1864 as his grandiose projects, such as tlie Neuschwansten Castle, bankrupted the royal household and threatened the governmental collapse. Ironically, today the castles are major money generators of Bavaria's tourism industry. Munich experienced more back luck in the 20th century, nearly starving to death during WW I and suffering relentless Allied bombimg raids during WW II.

As anyone who travels to Europe will tell you, a big part of the experience is enjoying local cuisine. While Munich is a veritable world food court, our focus was on German comestibles. We dined at the some of the finest establishments Munich has to offer, including the Augustiner, where we had the best of the wurst (a variety of brats and dogs), and the Schitzelwirt, where the wienerschnitzel and jägerschnitzel were simply divine.

Another of Munich's "must see" features is the Englischer Garten, one of the world's largest urban public parks. Named after a form of informal landscaping popular in England from the mid-18th to the early 19th century. At the southern tip of the Englischer Garten is an articifical "permanent wave" in a frigid arm of the Isar River, where crowds gather on weekends to watch neoprene-clad surfers practice their moves. Residents of Munich also love their soccer team: FC Bayern.

Castle Conundrum

King Ludwig II of Bavaria was one of the great anomalies of European royalty in the late 19th century. Ascending the throne at the tender age of 18, Ludwig II had little use for governing, and increasingly withdrew from the day-to-day affairs of governance in favor of his artistic and architectural projects, including several lavish palaces, much to the chagrin of his ministers.

Born in Nymphenburg Palace (above) in Central Munich, Ludwig II was the oldest son of Maximillian II of Bavaria and Marie of Prussia, who became King and Queen of Bavaria after the abdication of the latter's father, Ludwig I, during the German Revolution of 1848-49. His parents wanted to name him "Otto" but his grandfather, Ludwig I, insisted that his grandson be named after him. "Ludwig" is the German form of "Louis."

As was the custom of the day when royalty governed most of Europe, Ludwig II and his brother Otto were indoctrinated into the regimen of royal duty from an early age. As heir to the throne, Ludwig was both extremely indulged and severely disciplined. He was close to neither of his parents. He did have happy moments living in Hohenschwangau (above), a fantasy castle his father had built near Alpsee in Füssen.

As a youth, he was already becoming something of legend-in-the-making. Handsome, strapping and tall at 6'4, he would become an enigma "to myself and others." Raised to accept the duties as heir apparent to Bavaria, he studied at numerous colleges. He showed little interest in politics but lived for the arts and sciences and excelled as a student. He is said to have commented that he would rather be a professor than king.

Nonetheless, when his father, Maximillion II, passed away suddenly, Ludwig II officially became King of Bavaria. At first, he was quite popular, especially with his subjects. He had a passion for music, particularly anything by Richard Wagner. But he disliked large public functions, avoiding social events whenever possible. Instead, he enjoyed touring the Bavarian countryside and chatting with farmers and merchants.

Two years later, war would alter Ludwig's outlook on life considerably. First, the Austro-Prussion War, followed by the Franco-Prussion War, led to the unification of Germany and Bavaria's loss of independence. Bavaria, reduced to vassal status, would retain its own army. As for Ludwig himself, a healthy allowance funded by the proletariat allowed him to pursue his interests in music, theater and architecture.

Now free to pursue his interests with gusto, Ludwig II wasted little time, delving into sponsoring operas and theater presentations. But even more significantly for Bavaria, he focused his energy on the design and construction of numerous castles, including Schloss Linderhof, Schloss Herrenchimsee and the grandest castle of all, Schloss Neushwanstein, the model utilized by Walt Disney in Disneyland.

Fascinated by the musical dramas and writings of Richard Wagner, Ludwig brought the composer to Munich. However, he left Munich due to government conflict and used his personal fortunes to fund the construction of his elaborate castles. These projects provided employment for many hundreds of local laborers and artisans and brought a considerable flow of prosperity to poor regions where the castles were built.

Despite the fact that Ludwig II financed his many projects with his own funds and not government coffers, his ministers attempted to dispose of him through constitutional means, insisting that he was insane and therefore unfit to rule. The accusations were numerous: pathological shyness aversion to state affairs, homosexuality and expensive flights of fancy.

I guess we'll never know. Under the care of severel psychiatrists, "Mad" King Ludwig and one of his psychiatrists drowned in Lake Stamberg under mysterious circumstances. His death was ruled a suicide. But was King Ludwig really a raving lunatic, or merely a shy genius? Despite being a massive drain on royal finances during his reign, the castles collectively have generated immense economic benefits for Bavaria ever since. He remains popular in Munich.

Meandering The Marienplatz

Finding a cab at the Munich airport was easy, but the ride into town was anything but easy. With our cell phones still rebooting, all I could muster from my college German was "Wir gehen zum Hotel Atrium" (We are going to the Atrium Hotel). To make matters worse, we hit rush hour traffic, complicated by numerous construction sites. By the time the cabbie figured out the right hotel, our fare had reached 130 euros. The driver practically scoffed at his 10 euro tip. He was in a mood.

Relieved to have arrived at our hotel, we hauled our bags into the lobby and checked into the four-star facility. Other than our unfortunate timing in hitting rush hour traffic, late afternoon is actually the perfect time to arrive in a European city, especially when coming from Oregon. After all, it's cocktail hour! Fortunately, our hotel was conveniently located just blocks from the Karlsplatz (above), one end of the busiest shopping and dining districts in Germany. Where to go for dinner?

The "town square" in the old section of Munich is more of a series of plazas within a circle around the city's core, bounded by the Karlsplatz on the west. the Odeonplatz on the north, and the Isar River on the east and south, creating an incomparable dining and shopping hub. The Marienplatz resides at the center of the pedestrian zone along Kaufingerstrasse (above). Though we were sorely tempted by the Rathskeller (below), we settled on the Augustiner instead, another fine restaurant.

Wie Gehts, München?

On our first trip back to Europe since before the pandemic, we targeted Munich, the third largest city in Germany, as our first stop on a grand tour through Germany, Austria and Italy. Having spent three weeks in Munich with daughter Gina in 2011, I was anxious to return to the hub of the Bavarian Alps.

Traveling this time with son Jory, we weathered the 12-hour flight from Denver and arrived mid-afternoon. Munich, of course, is known worldwide for its Octoberfest, when more than six million visitors join the two million residents of Munich for a bierfest recognized as the world's biggest kegger.

Benedictine monks, drawn by fertile farmland and Munich's proximity to Italy, first settled the area in the 12th century. The city derives its name from the medieval "munichen,"  or "of the monks." These same monks learned to develop beer and closely guarded the secrets of their craft.

 

The Monk's Trail

We leave next week for Europe with a focus on the "Monk's Trail," a route that follows the journey of Albert, a 13th-century Abbot from Germany who documented his pilgrimage to Rome. The route is nearly 2,200 kilometers long, passing through the center of the Alps from Germany on the north, through Austria, and on to Italy in the south.

Initially, the plan is to thoroughly explore Munich, the home of the world-renowned "Octoberfest" before venturing to nearby attractions like the castles of "Mad" King Ludwig II -- Hohenschwangau, Neuschwanstein (below) and Linderhof -- and other nearby attractions like Der Zugspitze, the highest point in Germany, and Adolf Hitler's "Eagles Nest."

From Munich, we'll travel by train through the Alps over Brenner Pass into Italy's northern city of Bolzano in South Tyrol near the Dolomites. The plan is to visit the Messner Mountain Museum established by Reinhold Messner, one of the world's most renowned mountaineers known for his alpine-style techniques and minimalist approach to climbing.

Next, we'll hop another train bound for Genoa and the Italian Riviera. We'll explore Portofino and Portovenere, and visit family in Isolona. All along the way, from Munich to Genoa, I will interview willing participants interested in discussing the current state of affairs in the United States of America for my first podcast, tentatively titled Rooftop Ramblings.