Beethoven, Germany, Things that Fly in the Air

After visiting the Beethoven Haus in Bonn, I walked down the the Museum of the History of the Federal Republic. The title was not particularly inviting or exciting and I would not have seen it if a German friend had not recommended it. But it was wonderful! Everything from the Berlin Wall (building and destruction) to an old Miele washing machine to a Trabant, a piece of moonrock and one of the Beatles' drumsticks. As the museum covers the period of German history from 1945 to the present, it also chronicles many major European and American events, such as the 1960s student upheavals, the space race and European unification.

The exhibits start in the desperate days after May 1945 when staying alive was a constant battle. One room recreates the stark interior of a refugee camp hut. In 1945 at least 6 million Germans fled from the eastern provinces of Silesia, Prussia and Pomerania ahead of the Red Army, plus more who were expelled by the newly liberated Czechs from the Sudentenland areas of Czechoslovakia. They arrived in areas of Germany where the existing inhabitants had no homes due to the bombing and there was no public transport, electricity, gas or clean running water. It puts into perspective the current hubbub in Britain about the influx of less than a million East Europeans arriving in a peaceful prosperous country with adequate housing and all public services functioning.

The exhibits are arranged in date order, so you get some sense of economic, political and social changes decade by decade. Much of the emphasis is on the West German perspective, though changes in the Communist East Germany get some coverage. The museum covers my whole life, so it was a thrill to see the smallest BMW car ever made - the two -seater "bubble" car (with only one door - across the front of the vehicle!) they produced in the 1950s and which I dimly remember seeing gleaming new in a showroom when I was a small child - at a time when British car buyers were very patriotic and any foreign car was a rarity on British roads. It was so strange seeing this tiny, slow, bizarre vehicle sporting the familiar blue-and-white round badge which now adorns some of the most powerful and advanced sedans in the world. BMW are of course one of the major contributors to Germany being the biggest exporting nation on earth. Despite all the fuss about Chinese exports, Germany, with 7% of the population of China and 25% of the US population, out-exports both countries.

Most of the labels in the museum are in German, though I bought the very fat and informative English language guidebook to steer myself round the complex layouts. For film buffs, there was one amazing surprise - a huge temporary exhibition dedicated entirely to "Das Boot" (The Boat), the 1981 classic about WW2 submarine warfare. Surely one of the best war films ever, the exhibition brought it to life again, showing many details of the production, such as the make-up, custome design, camera work and the model submarines used for exterior shots, plus the numerous awards the film justly won.

One hilarious episode which is not mentioned in the museum is the prelude to the introduction of the Euro in 2002. The roads down to Switzerland and Liechtenstein were packed with top-of-the-range BMWs and Mercedes loaded with Deutschmarks which had never been declared to the taxman.This loot needed to be paid into suitably discreet banks before the marks became obsolete.

Walking down the road to this museum there were several surprises. There was an "Old Catholic" church; I had read about this breakaway group, which left the Catholic Church after the First Vatican Council, but had never seen one of their churches. Right next door was the Newman institute for Catholic students. A few minutes on there was the old foreign ministry and the old residence of the President of the republic. In the best civil service tradition, the united German government have built a new foreign ministry and a new Residence for the President in Berlin - but still keep the huge redundant old buildings in Bonn. And I suppose that , somewhere in East Berlin, there is a third foreign ministry left over from the DDR.... As long as there is only one foreign policy. It is difficult enough keeping up with one set of foreign policies (especially if they are French).

Back in Cologne, the preparations for the Carnival season were well advanced. I had a meal with Annette, my German friend who I met when she was a member of one of the St James music groups for a year in 2004/5. She then did a year's teacher training in Ludwigshaven, the very industrial home town of BASF, the huge chemical company. Happily she has now moved on to a teaching job (English and geography) in the much more attractive city of Koblenz, where the River Moselle joins the Rhine. She explained that Carnival (called "the Fifth Season") runs from late November to Ash Wednesday, with a break for Christmas. The area south of the cathedral is covered with rows of solidly made wooden huts which will house the Christmas Market - one of several around the city.

Germans are reputed to travel abroad more than any other nation on earth and Annette and her family certainly live up to this stereotype. She spent two weeks in Iran last summer, with no trouble whatsoever. She found the Iranians incredibly friendly and hospitable, ready to engage in conversation and exchange email addresses at the drop of a hat. Of course, she had to observe basic proprieties, dressing very modestly and covering her hair with a scarf. She also attended the wedding of a American friend (of Egyptian parentage) whom she met while studying in Chicago. The wedding took place in an idyllic village church in the Loire valley in France, followed by the reception in one of the beautiful chateaux for which that region is famous. Unfortunately, the bride's parents were absent, objecting to her choice of a Jewish husband. This did not deter her numerous other relatives who flew in from the Middle East and elsewhere. The local French villagers applauded and threw flowers as this wedding procession of total strangers progressed past their homes. The bride was originally Orthodox, but converted to Catholicism so that she and her Jewish fiance could get married in church. It was a reminder of how "globalised" people are becoming.

Annette's parents had been around much the same area as me this year, visiting Hong Kong, Singapore, Bangkok and Kuala Lumpur. I have not seen the last city, though it is certainly on my list for future holidays. But despite all this globe trotting, she was delayed in getting to our rendezvous outside the cathedral. It is only a hour by train from Koblenz, but there was a strike on! The train drivers were seeking a hefty increase. Still, most trains ran and she was only twenty minutes late.

When I took the trains to and from Bonn, they ran absolutely on time. It was a single decker train down to Bonn, a double decker on the way back - one of very few occasions I have ever been on a double decker train. Both trains were quiet, smooth and spotlessly clean. As with Singapore and Hong Kong, I felt very safe out at night in both Bonn and Cologne. It was such a pleasant change to going out after dark in Reading or London, where the massive alcohol abuse by thousands of people makes you all too aware that violence is never far away.

I went to Sunday Mass in Cologne Cathedral. The bishop lead the entry procession, which was swelled by a huge all-girl choir. The latter were mainly 10-13 years old; they looked suitably angelic in their white robes and sounded angelic as well. I checked out the wonderful St Gereons Church west of the Cathedral - no wonder Cologne is described as a Cathedral surrounded by Cathedrals. Several churches would be cathedrals in any other city. I then went to the City of Cologne Museum which boasts a winged car on its roof - this a tribute to Ford, a major employer in the area. A 1960s Ford is one of the exhibits inside.

The museum covers all of Cologne's history from Roman times to the present day, through the Middle Ages when it was the largest city north of the Alps, bigger even than Paris or London. A very frank area describes the Nazi period of Cologne's history, when swastika flags were hung even on the Cathedral. I had heard of the special cheap radios which the Nazis mass produced so that Germans could listen to their propaganda; sure enough, there were two samples in a display case. The WW2 destruction was apocalyptic; exhibits and photographs depict the devastation of the city's buildings, bridges and transport. 20,000 citizens were killed, 4,800 on one terrible night in 1943, more than a year AFTER the "Thousand Bomber raid". Other fascinating exhibits show the numerous industries and trades in the area. Most unexpected was the model of the enormous rafts of logs floated down the Rhine from southern Germany. The exhibit said that these were up to 300 metres long, which in one sense would make them the biggest vessels ever built up to that time.

I am now safe at home after a short but eventful flight from Cologne. We had a delay boarding the plane because it had been held up at another airport during its constant hops around Europe. Apparently one document said there were 137 people on board, while another said there were 134. Somehow three passengers were issued with duplicate boarding cards, which accounted for the three extra bodies. So by the time it reached Cologne/Bonn Airport and we were able to board, it was already well behind schedule. We thought that we were ready for take-off, but then there was a further delay because there was still one woman passenger standing without a seat. The crew argued over a cello which a musician passenger had brought on board. There were several other bulky instruments stuffed into the rear toilet compartment, which meant that no one could use that toilet for part of the flight. But this cello had a seat to itself, which the owner had paid for. This precious instrument was going into the cargo hold only over the owner's dead body.

After much negotiating and some surreal debate as to whether it was a "female" passenger, the cello was moved up to the flight deck the woman got her seat and we took off! I suspect the question of the cello's gender might have arisen from a head count of male and female passengers. There is always a spare seat (the "jump seat") on an airliner's flight deck, but the obvious solution (put a passenger in the jump seat) was forbidden by security rules. Part way through the flight, some of the musical instruments were taken out of the toilet so that passengers could use it, but don't ask me where the crew put them. The flight to London was less than an hour, but it was easily the bumpiest I have ever experienced. The aircraft flew only at 23,000 feet, which is much lower than most jets. I love flying, but was mighty glad to reach the ground this time. I was surrounded a a crowd of 10/11 year old children from a diving club who had been to a competition in Germany. Their harassed supervisors managed to retain their sense of humour while keeping the bored kids in order throughout the delays.

Back at Gatwick, you are inevitably reminded what total dumps the major London airports are in comparison with just about every other airport in the developed world. Going down the steps from the departure lounge to the tarmac at Gatwick was like descending to a 1950s urinal. Heathrow is little better. The enormous Terminal 5 finally opens at Heathrow next March; it has taken 20 years of arguing to get that erected after enquiries and planning consent delays and appeals. Unfortunately the ancient Terminals 1 to 3 will still be in business. Luton and Stansted are much more modern, but they are difficult to reach from Reading and offer fewer flights. But the real fun starts when you leave the bus to track down your car in the enormous long-stay carpark. Even with the benefit of a zone letter and a row number, I was wandering up and down for ages in the rain before I found it. I was 1:30am before I crawled into bed; up again at 6:30am for work on Monday......