152 days of travel have gained a sort of normalcy. We book a place. We pack. We train. We walk until our feet fall off, eat, visit museum/church/site/brewery/distillery/winery and then collapse. A few days later it begins again.

Today, we leave fabulous Prague and its beer for Dresden: which is in Germany: which makes wine, wine worthy again of writing about: unlike Prague’s wine, which was horrid.

The train ride takes us through fog shrouded forests, past villages, along snapping river bends.

The eclectic, Eastern feel of the Czech Republic fades into quaint yet orderly spa towns and clean roads.

We reach Dresden, realize that museums pack the city, and buy a 72 hour pass. They kindly keep our bags and we tour Zwinger Palace:

Each grand hall of the palace holds famed examples by famed artists. We fall into a guided tour of Rapheal’s Madonna and Child, charmed by it scale and simplicity.  But the porcelain wing astounds us.

Grandma’s china cabinet never had life-sized tigers or statues of Alexander II in fired porcelain.  Each piece presents a mind-boggling level of craft.  We go on top of the patio along the arcade, sun setting, just as the porcelain bells chime.  The Meissen factory becomes a must visit.

Overstimulated after fours hours in the museum we grab a snack/dinner at a Christmas market and then head to our Airbnb apartment.  With keys and the place to ourselves, we head out for groceries.

We grab a stollen at our neighborhood bakery, thinking “since Dresden claims to have invented this fruitcake why not?” Little do we know our minds are about to be blown.

At our organic grocery we get potatoes and eggs for omelets, as well as a bottle of something rare stateside: Riesling, sparkling Riesling.

Now in theory, Germany’s cold climate and Rieslings retained high acidity just might match Champagne’s continental perfection of miserable weather and tart fruit, let’s see.