Day 3 - Dachau

We knew we had to go. Visiting one of the camps had been something I'd thought about virtually every day of my life. It meant something different but no less important to Genevieve, who hadn't grown up in the shadow of the Holocaust.

We'd visit the museums in Washington, Dallas, and Houston (Genevieve had). All were designed to capture the feel of the suffering. Dachau needed no such designing.

Felt pretty much the way I thought I'd feel afterward. Not angry. Not vengeful. Not a victim. Determined. The take-away was simple: Never Again. Period.

So rather than dwell on it any more, pleas just look through some of the less disturbing photos we shot.




Ironically, we completed the day at another rather bizarre location but absolutely in character with our trip to Dachau. We visited the 1972 Olympic Park. What a gorgeous park and the city of Munich has done such a fabulous job repurposing the Olympic venues as recreational facilities for the people. We saw the pool where Mark Spitz won his 7 gold medals and then thought about the Israeli athletes who were taken there. (OY! WHAT A DAY WE HAD!)

By the time we got back to our neighborhood, most of the restaurants were closed. All we could find was some ARABIC food. And, without meaning any disrespect to the day we'd had, after a day of Dachau, Munich 72 Olympics and Arabs, we were expecting our room to explode. After the dinner we had, it did!

Next stop SALZBURG!