Searching For Einstein

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DAY 281: In 1879, one of the most influential scientists in history was born.  Known for his famous Theory of Relativity and his out-of-control, just-got-out-of-bed hair, Albert Einstein was born in the southwestern German city of Ulm on the Danube River.  Although Einstein left Ulm and moved to Munich and then Switzerland and ultimately to the United States where he died in Princeton, New Jersey, his hometown had no qualms in celebrating its claims that the genius was born within their city limits.  If not for the birth of Einstein in Ulm, sarcastic people around the world might not have had the expression, “Smooth move, Einstein.”

You would think that a city with such bragging rights—on the famous Danube no less—would be more of a tourist destination.  However, Ulm wasn’t even in the index of my Let’s Go Western Europe 2004 guidebook, and I’ve heard that little to no attention is given to it in other guides.  Luckily my second cousin Tony (who is more of an uncle-type to me) knew of it, as he frequented the city often being only about an hour away from Filderstadt and Stuttgart.  He and wife Ursula (who is a German aunt-type to me), both retired, decided to take me to Einstein’s hometown and environs for the day.  The night before, they had showed me a coffee table book about Ulm, complete with many pictures, and my goal for the trip to Ulm was to see the subject of one of them:  a statue of Einstein’s head, based on the famous silly photo of him sticking his tongue out. 

After cruising down the autobahn—slowing down at all the numerous radar/camera devices to regulate speed (Tony knew of all of them)—we arrived at the not-so-famous city in the German state of Baden-Württemberg.  A quiet little city of old southern German architecture and sausages, we walked through the streets, passed the city hall and new library (picture above) and down the park along the Danube—despite the name of the famous waltz “Blue Danube,” by Johann Strauss, it was pretty brown.  Across a bridge over the Danube, the boundary line between two states, we quickly stepped in New Ulm in the state of Bavaria before walking back to the “old” one. 

THE YEAR 2004 MARKS 125 YEARS since Einstein’s birth and Ulm’s stadthaus (town house) exhibition hall presented a comprehensive exhibition on the life of their superstar.  That was all nice and all (and in German), but I really just wanted to see the statue I’d seen in the coffee table book.  In front of the stadthaus was another sculpture that also played on Einstein and his protruding tongue, but it wasn’t the one I had seen.

Tony nor Ursula (nor their offspring) hadn’t seen the statue, which surprised me because the photo in the book made it seem like it would be fairly famous locally.  In fact, Ulm postcards even sported a photo of the statue.

The three of us were on a mission, and Ursula took charge by asking the folks at the Einstein exhibit on where to find it.  They gave us vague directions and a direction to walk in, but found nothing but the Einstein Haus, a special school for genius wannabes.  The statue wasn’t in the Einstein Haus plaza—the “E = MC Square” as I like to call it—so we asked for directions again.  The latest led us out of the city center and into the residential area—but the statue we found there wasn’t of Einstein at all.

“I don’t think that’s Einstein,” I said.

“I told you no one would know where it is,” Tony said.  “It’s difficult to find.  That’s typical of Einstein.”

Ursula asked for directions in her native German to a resident walking her dog.  She didn’t know exactly where it was either—and she lived in Ulm too.  Is it really that hard to find?  I didn’t want it to be such a pain.  I thought it would obvious, but I guess not. We asked another guy on the street who gave us another general direction but nothing specific.  Finally we arrived at the Zeughaus, a secluded government building, where Tony and Ursula had walked by many times.  However, it was my curiosity to look around the statue.  Lo and behold, Einstein and his tongue were only visible if you stood at the front door of the building looking outwards—casual passers-by of the Zeughaus wouldn’t see it unless they knew of its existence.  I guess, as Einstein put it, it’s all relative.

I REALLY QUESTION WHY ULM isn’t more popular; not only does it boast being a scenic town on the Danube and the birthplace of Einstein, it also holds the world’s tallest cathedral.  More noteworthy than that is that it holds the Museum der Brotkulture—that’s right, “Museum of Bread Culture,” an entire museum dedicated to the history and culture of bread.  At Ursula’s suggestion, we went to visit the not-so-famous but impressive museum.  I thought it would be like a bakery or something, but it was more or less a museum museum, with paintings and glass displays.  As boring as it may sound, the museum was actually pretty interesting; they managed to get their point across to me:  bread, in one form or another, has been an important symbolic food source in most civilizations and religions for millennia, from breads of ancient Egypt, to communion hosts in Christianity, to the promise of bread in Nazi propaganda posters.  Afterwards, Tony and I went out for doner kebabs in a fairly upscale place (compared to the scummier places I’d seen throughout Germany), which served up sliced meats on really good bread. 

WHILE THE “BLUE DANUBE” WASN’T EXACTLY BLUE, a body of water in the old Danube valley was—so blue it was named Der Blautopf, or “Blue Pot.” Der Blautopf, a pond 65 ft. deep, lies in the small town of Blaubernen, the place where Orsel grew up, the town where she met Tony.  Perhaps it was Der Blautopf‘s romantic charm back in the 1960s that did the trick (nowadays it’s a locally-popular tourist stop) with its picturesque water wheel and ultra blue water water caused naturally simply by the depth of the water.  I suppose we found two things in our excursion that day:  Einstein and the blue Danube.

HANS-GEORG WAS HOME FROM WORK by the time we got back to Filderstadt.  We made reservations for a court in the local tennis club for an hour of tennis and after our work out, Hans-Georg volunteered to cut my hair.  It wasn’t exactly as long as Einstein’s, but bothering me nonetheless.  How Einstein could keep his hair all wild I don’t know (although it totally works for him), but perhaps it was intentional when creating all those theories.  Now that’s genius.


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This blog entry about the events of Monday, July 26, 2004 was originally posted on August 03, 2004 on the blog, "The Global Trip 2004: Sixteen Months Around The World (Or Until Money Runs Out, Whichever Comes First)," hosted by BootsnAll.com. It is one of over 500 entries that chronicled a trip around the world from October 2003 to March 2005, encompassing travel through thirty-seven countries in North America, South America, Africa, Europe, and Asia. It was this blog that "started it all," where Erik evolved and honed his style of travel blogging. (It starts to come into focus around the time he arrives in Africa.)

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