- 25,00 kr
The Frankfurter Kreuz, the most heavily trafficked reef-knot of expressways in Europe, has a vertical dimension as well: flights in and out of the continent's busiest airport traverse the space a few hundred meters overhead. On a June morning in 1971, Christa and I threaded our way through the interchange and headed east on the Nuremberg Autobahn. Within twenty minutes we found ourselves transported to a more peaceful realm, the rolling woodlands of the Spessart mountains. Things have not always been so quiet here, either. The Spessart range is the stump of a magmatic arc thrust up some four hundred million years ago, during the Silurian era. Other upheavals have occurred too, most recent among them the Nazis' Endkampf, which petered out in these parts during the spring of 1945. Being in Germany represented a homecoming for Christa, who was born in Frankfurt and spent her childhood in a village forty miles to the north, in the Westerwald. "You're here to honor your wife?" a woman asked me. And, yes, that was true. On December 18, 1970, Christa and I had eloped. Since the day had turned chilly, Christa, rather than wearing a white dress as she had planned, substituted the blue velvet one with a floral motif on the collar that she'd worn on our first real date. (How dear she looked!) A Franciscan monk at Mission San Luis Rey married us in a scene out of Romeo and Juliet--happily without the fallout that star-crossed couple suffered. My mother was miffed. Christa's took it in stride. The year in Germany was to be our deferred honeymoon.