Day 6: Koblenz, Germany I will spare you the tedious travel details and go directly into the one sight we saw today, Marksburg Castle, high in the hills. It looked like something out of a children’s book, with a yellow facade and tall towers trimmed with red. It wasn’t originally built for residence, but for defence. It turned residencial unexpectedly, so consequently it hadn’t the tradition comforts. The rooms were tiny and lacked significant decor. Most of the rooms were dedicated to arms, or meant for other, purely functional pursuits. This utilitarian style inspired great respect in me. I had grown tired of the gaudy displays of wealth, so the simplicity was refreshing.
The view of the countryside below was a wonder to see. A village nestled …show more content…
We only had a short time to explore before we needed to be back on board so we wasted no time in going to the nearest Cathedral. I would love to detail my genuine awe and excitement here, but to be honest all churches are beginning to look the same to me. They are all splendidly decorated, but I am beginning to be less and less impressed by them. This is unfortunate, because I used to have great interest there every minute detail. I do know my love of a good painting will never be dulled, and other charms of these historical sites will never get old, I am just losing interest in the repetitive architecture. All the churches I’ve in the past few towns are either modeled after Notre Dame or St. Peter 's Basilica in the Vatican. These are both incredible structures, but I found they have been detracted from rather than glorified by …show more content…
The first one I saw was in Nuremberg. He was a man that died in the gas chambers of Auschwitz, and he had lived the very house that was before me. Everything was suddenly quantified, these casutial were transformed from statistics to souls as I stood before that tiny gold plaque embedded in the Street. Our tour guide explained that they were set into the ground so all who read it would have to bow down to do so, in an unwitting, but well deserved homage. I wanted to bow to the plaque, I wanted to kneel and grovel, and burry my face in my hand out of shame. I was ashamed, and guilty, despite the fact that I had no part in his demise. I cannot explain why. Perhaps I had for the first time understood the magnitude of the suffering that had taken
The view of the countryside below was a wonder to see. A village nestled …show more content…
We only had a short time to explore before we needed to be back on board so we wasted no time in going to the nearest Cathedral. I would love to detail my genuine awe and excitement here, but to be honest all churches are beginning to look the same to me. They are all splendidly decorated, but I am beginning to be less and less impressed by them. This is unfortunate, because I used to have great interest there every minute detail. I do know my love of a good painting will never be dulled, and other charms of these historical sites will never get old, I am just losing interest in the repetitive architecture. All the churches I’ve in the past few towns are either modeled after Notre Dame or St. Peter 's Basilica in the Vatican. These are both incredible structures, but I found they have been detracted from rather than glorified by …show more content…
The first one I saw was in Nuremberg. He was a man that died in the gas chambers of Auschwitz, and he had lived the very house that was before me. Everything was suddenly quantified, these casutial were transformed from statistics to souls as I stood before that tiny gold plaque embedded in the Street. Our tour guide explained that they were set into the ground so all who read it would have to bow down to do so, in an unwitting, but well deserved homage. I wanted to bow to the plaque, I wanted to kneel and grovel, and burry my face in my hand out of shame. I was ashamed, and guilty, despite the fact that I had no part in his demise. I cannot explain why. Perhaps I had for the first time understood the magnitude of the suffering that had taken