Turgenev said excitedly in a letter to Flaubert: Baden-Baden has a refreshing air and is coming. After coming here 10 years ago for Brahms, the mantle of German Romantic and Classical music, I keep revisiting it in different seasons. After all, next to the Black Forest, this 19th-century well-known convalescent city does have a better air than the average European city as said by a group of European literati who came to support it. But the number of times I come here is that the most memorable thing in Baden-Baden is the nude spa here.
Walking on the Lichtanthaler boulevard in Baden-Baden, I often see people in fancy suits with their waists straight and graceful steps. When you first arrive, your sense of this small town can easily resonate with Mark Twain's "The Tramp Abroad": "...full of hypocrites, all quite fake, and snobbish." But once you leave When you enter the Friedrich naked hot spring in the center of the small town, when you switch between the 17 hot springs with a naked and a stranger calmly, nature and reality no longer need to be hidden behind the beautiful clothes. Naked bathing in hot springs is common in Germany, but it seems odd to wear clothes in a public sauna.
In such a relaxed environment, distracting thoughts are also put down at the fastest speed. At that time, the only thing that was most concentrated was to look up and accept the spacious dome of the Renaissance style. Tens of thousands of water vapor molecules slowly drifted down, slightly infiltrating the body skin, and ironing. Before entering the hot spring area, there are several hot spring pools with taps. In addition to soaking in hot springs, it turns out that you can drink it, and it is said to be good for your body. However, you can't drink too much, otherwise, the intake of minerals will be too much, and the body will not be able to eat it, and it is said that "you will get drunk."
Marco Twain went on to write that he "left the joint inflammation in Baden-Baden". The phrase was reproduced in a small advertisement for today's 19th-century Roman-Irish spa centre. In Germany, any town that starts with "Bad" mostly means that there are many natural springs in the area. There are 200 hot spring eyes in Baden that originate from 2,000 meters underground and were excavated by the Romans more than 2,000 years ago. It is said that in the Middle Ages, a Roman emperor used the natural hot spring water here to cure arthritis, so he decided to extend the name of the small town "Baden" to "Baden-Baden" (baden means "bath"). It can be seen that the love is hot to a certain extent.
Next to Naked Hot Springs, there is a small building for real estate business. If you look closely, there is a sculpture on the outer wall of the second floor: an open book page with "Gambler" inscribed in German, with a portrait above it; The identity of the sculpture: "Dostoevsky". In the second half of the 19th century, Tuo, who was struggling between gambling demons and dazzling writing talents, lived here for more than a month with his newly pregnant wife, Anna. Last year was the 200th anniversary of Dostoevsky's birth, and about his down-and-out past in Baden-Baden appeared again in the media of various countries.
In Leonid Tsipkin's novel "Summer in Baden", there is a story about Dostoevsky's days in Baden-Baden. However, if you want to be more faithful to the details of history, it is better to read the indirect account of Tuo's own novel "The Gambler".
The origin of the old castle can be traced back to the 12th century map / IC
When entering the center of the city, your sight will definitely not go around a luxurious Baden Casino. This is the "devil" who tempted Feijia back then, and he still requires formal attire to enter and exit. In fact, far more than Figa, many Russian literati in the 19th century liked to come to Baden-Baden for vacation, and the hot springs and casinos here were the ones. Leo Tolstoy was another "gambler," but he was more fortunate than Figa: one night, after a desperate gamble, he made all his lost money back. I'm really not interested in casinos, I've counted their doors without looking away.
The next morning, as I walked past the gate of the small building where Figa and Anna rented, I suddenly saw two white horses galloping by in the cold wind, and a bunch of shots and lights flashed through the crowd in front of me. When I asked, I found out that it was the filming site of a TV drama co-produced by Germany and Russia. The actor in the top hat is playing "Fega", and the title of the play is "Dostoevsky". The story that director and screenwriter Ginir Serobrennikov wants to tell is a struggle between a gambler and a writer.
I remember it was late autumn when I first set foot in Baden-Baden. Sitting in the car of my German friends Corinna and Michael, roaring and being swept up in the dense forest. To this day, I clearly remember that the intensity of what TS Eliot said "human beings can't stand too much reality" was pressed into my heart at that time. Only by constantly pressing the shutter of the SLR can replace the full mind that is difficult to express.
When driving into the layered forest where the ramp turns and getting lost among the seven or eight colors of fallen leaves and the plains, I immediately realized that in the 19th century, politicians such as Russian Tsar Alexander and Germany's "Iron Chancellor" Bismarck, and literati such as Why did Balzac and Gogol choose to spend the summer in Baden-Baden and linger. When I was walking along the Lichtanthaler Avenue in the woods in the small town, I could also understand why Brahms, the romantic composer, loved walking day and night on this three-kilometer boulevard. Symphony and a popular "Lullaby".
The most recent visit was in early spring. Fog or light rain is perfect for walking into the forest. Germany was only considered to officially enter spring in May, but in early spring, purple crocuses and yellow daffodils were already growing wildly. It was only when the fog on the edge of the Black Forest was still heavy in the early morning that I realized that what fell from the trees was still Leaves from last winter.
Strange to say, growing up in the city, I was not familiar with forests, let alone nostalgic for German forests. I only vaguely remember that when I was in elementary school, I learned to sing in a "sacred" tone in the choir: "Twilight is dark, dusk is coming, alone outside the forest." Somehow, this image was engraved in my mind for many years, until it settled in reality middle. The quiet greenery with dewdrops makes people unsuspecting, seeing all their "weakness" until the "self" disappears completely in the clear nature. The only reminder of the "sense of presence" is the chestnuts that keep falling into the forest.
We buried ourselves all the way to find chestnuts, planning to go home to braise wild venison. I was absent-mindedly thinking about Brahms' house, probably nearby. It's really easy to find the home where the composer lived for nine years as a young man, and Clara's house, which he has been obsessed with all his life, is also next door. Stepping into the yard, I saw a well-kept vegetable garden. A cat ran over and rubbed my leg, then went straight back to the front steps, staring at the castle not far away like a sculpture. Open the door with the large portrait of Brahms, and there is an aunt who is babbling on and explaining. I tried my best to ignore the fact that this building had become a museum, quietly looked at the faded piano, the classical desk with the quill on it, and then I couldn't help but scribble down my current feelings on the guestbook full of languages.
Casino interior. Figure/IC
In one of the portraits hanging on the wall, I saw at a glance the bright and melancholy eyes of the composer who was so impressed when he read Brahms' biography as a child. In the deep-locked glass case, there is a face model of his death, his eyes are closed, "no more words can be said", but his last tear has not been re-engraved. There are two windows in the bedroom, which open to the refreshing view of the Black Forest.
On the return trip, we returned to Richtantalle Boulevard, with occasional carriages passing by. If you look closely, it is the two white horses that have been used as props for TV dramas before. A coachman wearing a top hat rode on his horse, and this "summer living room in Europe in the 19th century" seemed reluctant to abandon its former glory and enter the new world.
We were in the woods and soon picked up a bag full of chestnuts. Life in Baden was 20 years slower than the outside world, said friend Mischael. He and Corinne have lived in Baden-Baden for more than 30 years, and their house is still as it was in the 18th century, with a drawstring water tank and unaltered wooden floors. They also said that living here doesn't even need to grow their own vegetables: if you go for a walk in the forest in autumn, if you look carefully, you can find ripe chestnuts and seven or eight kinds of mushrooms.
Corinna said that this season is the right time to eat game. Baden-Baden's special game is wild deer and wild boar, but hunting must first apply for a hunter's license, and ordinary people have to go to the forest office to buy meat. According to the staff of the forest office, now "the wild boars have become smarter", and only the wild deer have been hit. When the wild venison was brought home, Corinna marinated it with cream, milk and local red wine. She said that it was delicious to cook in red wine or roast it.
Early the next morning, we went to the old castle of Baden-Baden. Walking up, we found that there are only ruins left from the 12th century, and only four walls are still there. A harp is placed on one wall, and when the wind blows, the strings will sound. The haze was a bit big in the morning, we climbed to the highest point of the castle, and we couldn't see the appearance of Baden-Baden clearly.
Back home, Corinna called with Michael's friend Belgit, who lives in Strasbourg, France, a 15-minute drive away. Belgiette brought winter salad greens with garlic sour cream and rosemary as a dipping veggie dip. Corinna put mushrooms in stewed wild venison with sour cream and a whole bottle of Baden-Baden red wine, with chestnuts and "stolen" from the tree before a rainstorm hit. Apple, fried and eaten with German wild berries. The four of them gathered around the fireplace, accompanied by local red wine, and the wine was hot, and they talked until midnight.
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