The Black Forest isn't like any other place I've ever seen or even heard about. It's called the Black Forest (so MIL says) because the trees are so close together that the forest looks black from the air. It's blanketed by a special kind of quiet, at least during the winter months. The landscape is just so tranquil...it's hard to explain, but it's so un-here, in a very good way.
We went to Triberg on the 11th of December. I remember thinking as we made our way down the Autobahn that we had seen plenty of gray skies and rain, but no snow. I was disappointed, since I knew it was very unlikely that we'd see any back at home.
I kid you not, the first flakes fell as I got out of the van in Triberg. I have never been so awed by the timing of a weather event before. Even FIL commented, "Well, there's your snow, Infernal" as he donned hat, scarf, and gloves.
Here's how we kept the kids warm in all the cold weather. Little one had leggings on in addition to double socks. She hated her mittens! Linebacker baby had a snowsuit (you can't see it too well here) over winter clothes, and then we tucked him into a mummy bag inside the stroller. Those plastic weather covers are popular with the Germans, and now I see why.
Triberg is home to Germany's highest easily-accessible waterfall. It's gorgeous and a half, as any self-respecting waterfall must be. ;-) We didn't climb all the way to the top because we had the strollers with us.
On the way down, I stood on the icy bridge over the river and took a shot of Triberg - this is pretty much the way I remember it in my heart (you might want to click for the bigger version).
We stopped for lunch at a very nice restaurant, and I had my first (and only!) bite of real Black Forest cake. If there was any more rum in it, they would have had to pour the cake, not slice it! You could smell the alcohol in it before it got to the table. :-D
Triberg is the home of the cuckoo clock, so after lunch we visited one of the three shops called "House of 1,000 Clocks" there. This one was on their Hauptstrasse. The snow was still coming down.
The salesman inside the shop was one of the friendliest I've ever seen, without being pushy at all. He didn't balk at the snow-covered strollers in the doorway or the excited two-year-old reaching toward the expensive clocks. Instead, he set off one clock per wall for her, so she could hear and see them in action. Little one loved that, and flashed him a shy smile every time he spoke to her.
There was a sign on the wall saying photography was permitted, but I still asked, just to make sure. I didn't want to offend anyone or give them a poor picture of Americans. The friendly salesman grinned at me and made a sweeping gesture with his hand, saying, "Please, take pictures of anything. Is ok, is good."
So I did. :-D
The clocks started around 400 euro, so we walked out almost empty-handed (I bought a silver keychain that opens to hold a small photo. Engraved on it is "I left my heart in the Black Forest" - a sentiment I can appreciate now).
As we strolled along the snowy streets, we noticed that it was starting to stick to the roads a bit. It was quickly decided that we should return to the van and get going, but we stopped long enough for MIL to show little one how to catch snowflakes on her tongue.
Ah, Triberg...I miss it, I really do.
