Reflections of My Travel

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When we woke up this morning, we decided to walk the town of Regensburg one last time so that we could get some pictures since we failed to bring our cameras on last night’s stroll. It was still lovely in the daylight. It was interesting to see how different it was though. Cars driving down the fun little alley ways that accommodated only foot traffic last night, people sitting inside the shops to eat by themselves instead of out on the sidewalks with large social groups, et cetera. We were unable to find any “Gute Mutters Tag” cards so we bought a few postcards and went back to the hotel to write mother’s day messages and mail them from the desk after getting cleaned up and checking out. From Regensburg, we headed south toward Dachau. I must say, this was probably the single most sobering place I’ve ever visited. As I walked up the gravel path leading to the camp, I began getting goosebumps. By the time we got to the “Arbeit Macht Frei” gate at the entrance to the Jourhaus and camp, I had a sinking pit in my stomach. That feeling remained the entire time we were in the camp, until we got back to the parking lot. There were several WWII vets walking around with their families and it was so sad overhearing them tell about the liberation and such. I assume that they were actually here because the 60th anniversary of the liberation was two days ago. Another thing that struck me about the experience was that this seemed to be the one place that we (America) were referred to in a heroic tone. Not that there has been any kind of a blatantly derogatory tone toward us, but it seemed like most of the places we’ve visited have said things about “this building was destroyed by the American bombing” or “this is the only town that didn’t suffer from the American bombing” or something to the effect. It just seemed like this was the first place we’ve been where the sacrifices of our boys was truly appreciated. Perhaps I’m out of line there though. When we had walked around all of the visitable areas of the concentration camp and crematorium, we walked back out to the parking lot and felt like a weight was lifted. It was really just such a sorrowful experience. From there, we headed down toward Füßen to spend the night so that we could get a bright and early start at the Königschloßer.