Konrad and Alexandra (PDF) - Rolf Gross

preventative method and taking it easy made it unnecessary to open the dangerous radiator cap. They reached the passin an hour and a half.And there began Italy! The formalities of clearing the car for "import" into Italy took almost an hour. Only the help of thelocal TCI representative got them through in the end. Alexandra, in her best Italian, beguiled the man most shamelessly."Maybe we should have bribed the customs officer," suggested Alexandra later, accustomed to this kind of manipulationof officials.Friedrich laughed. "But you most successfully charmed the man from the Italian Touring Club, which you enjoyed it andcost us nothing!"They had grown cold waiting at the border, the higher mountains were still covered by deep snow. Now the air warmedquickly as they reached lower altitudes. In Bolzano bloomed the apples. The balmy air! And the scents of Italy! Flowerseverywhere. The smell of roasted garlic led them to a garden restaurant where they had lunch while waiting forKatharina. Her train was an hour late. Katharina begged to be driven along Lake Garda. It would take only an hour longerto get to Verona.Alexandra drove. Blooming apple orchards and vineyards lined the road. Like in Georgia and different from Germany thenew bright green vines were strung horizontally. In the villages, under overhanging roofs, three and four story housespainted in all colors. They played hide and seek with the foaming Adige river until a sign pointed to Gardone. Alexandraclimbed over the low hills and before their eyes lay the blue expanse of the Lake.The road along the lake skirted the steep wooded hills on its west side. They had to pass one tunnel after another. Everytime they emerged from the darkness the blue water, only a few feet below, offered a new, unexpected surprise. Smallvillages dotted the low green hills and meadows on the opposite shore.Between the tunnels squeezed houses with red clay roofs in villages that climbed precariously up the steep hillside. Likea mother hen the church tower with its baroque helmet in their midst. Green-slatted window shutters which, when tiltedoutwards, cast sharp-angled shadows on the sienna-brown walls in the midday sun. Behind a profusion of blue clematisand glycinias hid a villa in its garden by the lakeshore. Boats moored at its private pier. Hidden on protected terracesbloomed lemons whose sweet scent flooded the road in pockets of warm air. The perfumes and colors of the promisedland.In the middle of this beauty a flat tire. Alexandra caught it just in time. She stood with folded arms instructing her men:"No, don’t jack up the car, first loosen the wheel bolts, then lift it."They put on the spare. It was done in fifteen minutes. Konrad stripped to his underpants and jumped into the lake. Hecame back after a few minutes shivering and spraying water, too cold. The next village was so alluring that they spent anhour in a café, warming themselves in the sun.Driving into Verona proved a daunting experience. The narrow cobblestone lanes of the old town were crowded withbraying donkeys, carts, flying vendors, colorful umbrellas and people shouting in the open markets, cursing, and singing.Alexandra had to fight her way at snail’s pace. Nobody paid attention to her honking. They garaged the car at the hotel,paid the attendant to patch their punctured tube, and set out on foot.Konrad looked at his wife. "Are you happy? This town is the closest thing yet to the Tiflis Bazaar." They stayed anotherday. Katharina insisted that they take in an opera in the outdoor arena.Aïda in the immense Roman oval packed with people: live elephants, a flight of pigeons strategically released, a massivechorus, powerful singers, lavish costumes, everything bigger than big. However, the best show was provided by theaudience. Everyone knew the opera by heart. Thunderous applause after every well-sung aria. The favorite singersreceived an ovation even before they had opened their mouth.Alexandra shuddered remembering the Varieté show in Berlin. Despite their multitude the natural grace of these peoplestruck her as so much more pleasant, graceful, exuberant, and closer to her own sensibilities. They were simply excited.Yet she came away certain that opera of this dimension was not for her. The intimate, complex chamber music in Munichhad touched her more deeply. Katharina gloated over the spectacle, her pinnacle of musical experience'The road to Vicenza was a chaotic tangle of men and animals. Friedrich had to watch not to run over one of the manydonkey carts that careened all over the road without order or discipline. In the endless, boring Po Valley the traffic wasless, but the fine dust from the miserable tracks penetrated everything. They trailed a long dust cloud. In Padua’s mazeof busy streets Friedrich got hopelessly lost, the arena chapel was closed when they finally found it.Dusted from head to toe, tired and disappointed, they decided to have lunch and wait. When the custodian opened thedoors half an hour later, the Giotto murals were a letdown. Alexandra decided that they were strictly of historical interest,their visual appeal was limited: stiff, flat, and chalky. If only Walter were here to give them one of his lectures on the earlyRenaissance.They quit the race in Ferrara. The Schifanoia Palace that Walter had praised so highly was already closed. It was anunfortunate day, dust and little beauty along the road, and all the sights inaccessible. Exhausted, they fell into bed in amusty, second-rate hotel.Next morning they put Katharina on the train to Florenz and set out to conquer the Apennines passes. Alexandra waslonging for the quiet discussions in Fiesole. Konrad, who had wanted to search for the traces of beautiful Novella111