Steep Stuff: Climbing The Hohentwiel

Schirmeck castle

Overseeing the valley of Schirmeck, the castle, built for the Bishop of Strasbourg in the 13th century, is a short walk and climb from the town centre. As it was designed to protect a corner of the territory, that's apparently where we get the term: Schirm'eck. It was defeated by the Swedish during the Thirty-Years War, with some of the stone from the ruins being used to build other structures, such as the church.

Today, there's obviously not much of it left, though a square tower was restored and houses a small museum (closed when I visited). The Yoshi art was probably not part of the original episcopal aesthetic...

The Tower of the Sun

With another World Expo underway at Osaka this year, a massive park to the North of the city (actually in the neighbouring city of Suita) sits on the site of the first Japanese World Expo in 1970. There's usually some form of centrepiece: in 1889 it was the Eiffel Tower, and at Osaka Expo '70, it was the Tower of the Sun.

It is a massive sculpture by Taro Okamoto, which it was possible to climb into to view another work called the Tree of Life. As it was going to have people inside, it needed a lightning rod - that's what the top face (officially a mask, but I tend to call it the "bird face" - whose eyes light up at night apparently) is sporting. The three faces on the back, front and top represent humanity's past, present and future respectively, though some art critics and historians have a more bleak interpretation due to Okamoto's larger body of work and stance against technological progress, something the Expo would put emphasis on.

Similarly to the Eiffel Tower, the Tower of the Sun was supposed to be a relatively ephemeral structure, and nearly all the Expo pavilions around it have been demolished. Like the Eiffel Tower, it was avant-garde and no doubt not everyone liked it. But this building is one of the few to be preserved, and requires regular attention - again, like the Eiffel Tower which needs periodic repainting. In any case, the Tower of the Sun is one of Osaka's most iconic landmarks.

Triberger Wasserfälle

In the heart of the Schwarzwald region of Southwestern Germany, we find the town of Triberg and its waterfalls. Following a fire in the early 19th century, the town was rebuilt with a high street that aligned with the falls. Here's how that works out today, from the opposite hill.

With the arrival of the railway, Triberg became a leisure hotspot. The falls were visited shortly after that opening of the railway by the ruler of the recently unified Germany, Kaiser Wilhelm I, for which a memorandum was carved into a rock. The writing is just legible:

"Zur Erinnerung an den Besuch der deutschen Kaiserfamilie am 30 September 1877"

In time, Triberg has become a renowned tourist destination for the falls of course, but also for all things related to Schwarzwald culture, such as typical costumes and music, cuckoo clocks and local food - Black Forest gateau of course, but also ham, which has a festival in the town next weekend. The entrance fee to the falls includes tickets to three of the town's museums and indoor attractions.

At a total of 163 m over 7 drops, the Triberg Waterfalls are among the tallest in Germany. Triberg advertises them as the tallest, and a review check reveals some heated argument about the claim. I'm letting Wikipedia settle the debate: the claim is not correct, and it's not even close - the Röthbachfall in Bavaria is 470 m tall. However, Triberg undoubtedly offers the tallest easily accessible waterfalls in Germany, and they are still very much worth the visit. They are in the same size range as Nachi Falls in Japan.

The falls have also been used by Triberg in the late 19th century to become pioneers of hydroelectricity. Power stations were built at the top and the bottom of the falls, and enabled Triberg to become the first town in Germany with electric street lamps.

For an extra euro at the gates to the waterfalls, you can buy a bag of peanuts to try to attract the squirrels. As such, squirrels might come close to you whether you have some or not. This one still moved a bit too quickly to get a good photo.

All in all, the falls make a very solid start to a day trip in Triberg in the mid- to late-morning, and there's plenty and a variety of things to see and fill the afternoon after that.

Karlsruhe Palace

Thought I'd pop up to Karlsruhe today; it's not very far and I'd never been. It was... well, OK for a light outing. There's a lot of construction work going on in town, and it wasn't very animated being late January. Still, the weather was good enough for a pleasant walk around the centrepiece, the Palace, which houses the history museum of the State of Baden.

Karlsruhe is a relatively young town, by European history standards, as it was founded in 1715 as a new seat of power for the Margrave of Baden. A symmetric living building with a rear wing mounted by a tower was surrounded by vast gardens, and streets radiated out from the palace - a rather original urban arrangement, I don't remember seeing it in other places. Following French invasion in the late 18th century, Emperor Napoleon granted Baden the status of Grand Duchy: the ruler gained access to more riches and symbols such as a crown, a throne...

The Grand Duchy was briefly overthrown in a revolution in 1849, and abolished entirely following the fall of the German Empire in 1918. The region of Baden, stretching from Mannheim and Karlsruhe in the North, along the East side of the Rhine down to Freiburg and Konstanz, became a Republic within the Weimar Republic, and merged with neighbouring Württemberg, the area around Stuttgart, into the Land of Baden-Württemberg we have today in 1952. Baden was the smaller of the two former Grand Duchies, and was more reticent to the merger, as this poster in the museum shows.

"This is what the merger will be like!"

Ultimately, the merger wasn't as bad a deal as feared: when a Baden-only referendum was held in 1970, a return to a split was emphatically rejected. Still, it is not rare to see the yellow and red flag of Baden in the South-West corner of Germany - I've seen it outside a drinks hut near Oberkirch (bottom left picture) and on several castle ruins. It naturally flies atop the Karlsruhe Palace tower.

The train to Kushimoto: a JR West 283-series Kuroshio express. The sets are getting on a bit, they were introduced in 1996 and the livery could do with a refresh, but the "dolphin nose" is distinctive, and I, for one, really like it. They're also quite rare, only 4 sets exist.

The Kisei Main Line is essentially the coastal route from Nagoya to Wakayama. The full trip around the Kii peninsula takes 8 hours by express train, with a change required at Shingû or Katsuura, but it's definitely scenic as it gets very close to the sea (photo between Kii-Tahara and Koza).

A little local train in Hikone: Ômi Tetsudô is a private company that's been around in the area for over 125 years, hence the panel on this particular train, in retro colours.

Japan has many small lines run by small companies which were never nationalised. However, Ômi Tetsudô is owned by the larger private rail company Seibu, based in the North-Western sector of Tokyo, whose main route is Ikebukuro to Chichibu. Ômi mainly runs second-hand Seibu stock.

To end the "Canal Contraptions" mini-series, here's a brief look at the Keage Incline on the Lake Biwa canal in Kyoto. Located near Nanzen-ji and its famous aqueducts, it's apparently a popular sakura spot, not that I'd know visiting in July...

Boats were loaded onto wagons at one end of the slope, and hauled by an electric engine up or down before being unloaded back into the water at the other end. Thinking about it just now it sounded rather ludicrous to me, but I was picturing long European-style barges, but the boats of Meiji period Japan were probably not that big, as a picture of the surviving wagon shows.

We didn't go down to the incline, it was just something the friends I was travelling with that day brought up between Nanzen-ji and our next destination. Something to go back for...

60 Years of the Tokaido Shinkansen!

On 1 October 1964, a railway line like no other opened. Connecting Tôkyô and Ôsaka, paralleling an existing main line, the Tôkaidô New Trunk Line had minimal curves, lots of bridges, zero level crossings. Striking white and blue electric multiple units, with noses shaped like bullets some would say, started zooming between the two cities as at the unheard-of speed of 210 km/h.

This was the start of the Shinkansen, inaugurating the age of high-speed rail.

The trains, with noses actually inspired by the aircraft of the time, originally didn't have a name, they were just "Shinkansen trains", as they couldn't mingle with other types anyway due to the difference in gauge between the Shinkansen (standard gauge, 1435 mm between rails) and the rest of the network (3'6" gauge, or 1067 mm between rails). The class would officially become the "0 Series" when new trains appeared in the 1980s, first the very similar 200 Series for the second new line, the Tôhoku Shinkansen, then the jet-age 100 Series. Yes, the 200 came first, as it was decided that trains heading North-East from Tôkyô would be given even first numbers, and trains heading West would have odd first numbers (0 is even, but never mind).

Hence the next new type to appear on the Tôkaidô Shinkansen was the 300 Series (second from left), designed by the privatised JR Tôkai to overcome some shortcomings of the line. Indeed, the curves on the Tôkaidô were still too pronounced to allow speeds to be increased, while all other new lines had been built ready for 300 km/h operations. But a revolution in train design allowed speeds to be raised from 220 km/h in the 80s to 285 km/h today, with lightweight construction (on the 300), active suspension (introduced on the 700 Series, left) and slight tilting (standard on the current N700 types).

Examples of five generations of train used on the Tôkaidô Shinkansen are preserved at JR Tôkai's museum, the SCMaglev & Railway Park, in Nagoya, with the N700 prototype lead car outdoors. It's striking to see how far high-speed train technology has come in Japan in 60 years. The network itself covers the country almost end-to-end, with a nearly continuous line from Kyûshû to Hokkaidô along the Pacific coast (no through trains at Tôkyô), and four branch lines inland and to the North coast, one of which recently got extended.

東海道新幹線、お誕生日おめでおう！

Everything is ready for Tuesday! How this particular configuration works, as well as the one below, will be covered - we can talk about it on here too afterwards if anyone's interested.

C'est avec grand plaisir que je présenterai le mardi 16 avril à la Maison Universitaire France-Japon de Strasbourg une conférence sur la géométrie pendant la période d'Edo, avec en support le sangaku de Kashihara. Entre grande Histoire et petits calculs. Lien vers les détails 4月16日(火)、ストラスブール市の日仏大学会館に江戸時代の算額についてコンファレンスをします。楽しみにしています！ Looking forward to giving a conference on Edo-period geometry on 16 April at Strasbourg's French-Japanese Institute. Expect a few posts about Kashihara around then. Has it really been 6 years?...

Kanazawa-Tsuruga Shinkansen extension open!

Since yesterday, these beauties (seen at Takasaki on the same trip I had that "race" into Omiya) have another 120 km of track to play on, as the Hokuriku Shinkansen extends further West along the coast of the Sea of Japan into Fukui Prefecture.

Of course, the best news here is that travel times between Kanazawa and Tsuruga are slashed - let me rephrase: halved - compared to the previous fastest express services. The dream of completing the route to Kyoto and Osaka is in reach, and if you add the Maglev line, there could, in the long-term future, be three full high-speed Tokyo-Osaka lines: the historic South coast route, the scenic North coast route and the ultra-fast route straight through the middle.

But there are other consequences. As has become the standard along the Hokuriku route, the old line has immediately been sold off to a "third sector" company - largely run and subsidised by local authorities for as long as they're happy to keep the line open. Only all-stop trains are operated by these third sector companies, so there are only two options: very slow local trains, or very fast, but all the more expensive, high-speed trains. No rapids, no expresses.

The express trains which used to go to Kanazawa now all terminate early at Tsuruga, including the Thunderbirds - of course, technologically advanced Japan has more than the five Thunderbirds Gerry Anderson could muster! This display board seen in 2016 is not likely to be seen again. And if the route to Kyoto is completed, will the name disappear altogether, or continue as an omnibus Shinkansen service to Toyama? Maybe resurrect the original name Raichô (yes, similar to the Pokémon)?

Train geek notes aside, the future's hopefully bright for the region this new stretch of line serves, which was hit hard by the New Year Earthquake.

北陸新幹線おめでとうございます!