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I'm sure that all of you have seen the picture of the snow covered pedestrian street in Berchtesgaden with the town fountain. All the white lights reflecting off the snow with a sotr of golden glow.
Everytime I see that picture I thing back to my winter in Berchtesgaden after I got out of the Army.
Jonah Sweeny and I were living in a one tiny room above the 'Hof part of that winter and life just seemed amazing. Here I was, a kid from Iowa, living in the Alps, walking the KristkindlMarkt, a glass of Gluhwine in one hand, a thick slab of lieberkasse smothered in bavarian sweet mustard between two halfes of a fresh baked brotchen. The snow was about a foot deep and had fallen overnight. The air was fresh and brisk, steam coming from both the hot wine and the hot lieberkasse, bundled up enough that we could just walk along and look at every little thing. Everything the stalls had for sale, Bobby Oakland had a little glasswork for sale. Watching the other people wander along, crunching steps in the snow. The mountains looking like naturaly better then Hollywood could ever make them.
At that point in time none of the rest of the world seemed to important. It just seemed to be the beauty of Berchtesgaden, the taste and smells of the Kristkindlmarket.
You and I know what such things are like and enjoyed it. Others have know idea and just think of the place as some location on a map, lesson in history class, a location shot in a movie.
We know about the Buttenmandl and Grumpus, the Shuutzen in the mountains, how the Lift at the far end of the valley seemed to lead up to the stars on a clear night.