a dreary day in Dresden

Visiting Dresden in early November several weeks ago was not one of the "good times" for me -- in fact, it was one of the lower moments, when my loneliness and heavyheartedness were intensified by drizzly gray weather. But Dresden is a beautiful city, and Í have a few pictures, so I decided to write a little bit down.

John, Jesse and Chris were also there with me, but I´m sad to say that in my despondency I treated them poorly; I was just a downer during these times, you see.

Preferring to spend time on our own, we saw most of the city sites independently. One of the more important ones is the "Zwinger" which is a rectangular palace with green gardens in the middle and four large museums housing several large and relatively important collections of art, medieval weapons, and scientific -- mostly astronomical -- instruments from the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries.

The weekend I was visiting also happened to be the first Sunday of services open to the public at the newly reconstructed Frauenkirche cathedral. The Frauenkirche, a truly magnificent building, was destroyed by fire bombs, like the rest of Dresden, on Valentine´s day, 1945, during World War II. The cathedral is impressive and unique because it has many, many levels inside -- maybe ten stories -- where you can sit and observe the service; it´s a completely vertical experience. This having been the first public service since 1945, the line stretched forever, but fortunately Chris and I, arriving early, were able to get in without too much trouble. I sat next to an older couple, the wife spoke to me extensively about her experiences as a little girl in the Cathedral before it was destroyed; this was the first time she had entered it since 1945.

Sometimes in Europe when you sit at a table in a crowded restaurant or cafe the waiter or waitress will seat a group of strangers at your table. I wish it was the same way in the United States, because it´s really a wonderful custom, especially if you´re alone -- odds are, in that case, you will soon be striking up a conversation with them, and then you´ve met someone new.

This happened to me in Dresden. Reading and sipping hot chocolate by myself in an elegant cafe, as rain battered against the awning, an elderly couple sat down at my table and ordered coffees. For a while I didn´t say anything, because, as I´ve rediscovered, I´m really a rather shy person, and most of the time I wait for people to engage me in conversation, rather than taking the initiative to engage them. But on this day as I twiddled my thumbs waiting for them to speak to me, I decided that wouldn´t do, and I started asking them what they happened to be doing in Dresden on this miserable chilly day.

As it turned out, they were Dutch, which of course got me very excited (my heritage is Dutch, by the way) and before long we were talking about all kinds of things, like their five children, one of whom had moved to Warsaw and started another big family after falling for a Polish woman. The old Dutch man was full of energy and questions and excitement. I felt from the way that they spoke happily of their children that they were enjoying a very rewarding life, with a great big family that they had created and nurtured.

Chris and John and I gathered together briefly to attend an Opera by Richard Strauss, which was in the handsome Dresden opera house, which used to be quite famous. You can read more on the history of Dresden here.

Later, under a dark causeway, I paused for several minutes listening to a group of excellent Russian street performers who had drawn a small but devoted crowd. I guess they were a woodwind quartet -- a flutist, a bassoonist, and two clarinetists. Anyway, they were so professional, during a pause between Mozart´s Turkish and Strauss´ Radetski march I went up and bought their CD from them for €15. Afterwards I was extremely tickled with myself, convinced that I had become a magnificent patron of the arts.

And so that was Dresden for me. But you see, I was all alone for these little adventures. And that´s what made me sad; Dresden could have been a blast. It´s not where you are, it´s who you´re with.