Walking the Watch

So, after a hearty supper, we joined the Night Watchman on the steps of the Town Hall along with a hundred or so others.  Though we’d walked around the old city earlier in the day, we were looking forward to hearing a few different stories and, from the little we’d heard last evening, to a few giggles as well.

He walked, we followed.  From time to time, he stopped by a bench or a step and climbed upon it to address the ever-growing audience.  His stories were interesting, well recounted and his humour was dry as a bone.  Those without English as their first language possibly missed a fair number of his asides, sadly.  But he was patient, waited for the slowest of the group to arrive before starting to speak and did his best when challenged by vehicles in narrow streets and the odd busker.  In fact, he only had to threaten use of his halberd on one single occasion!

Overlooking the double bridge, the view was splendid.  The sun was just beginning to set and the ochre houses shone beautifully in the evening light.

In yesterday’s post, I made reference to “the famous double bridge”.  To be truthful, we had no idea why it’s famous and could find nothing about it in our guide books.  Actually, I had slotted it into my mental folder marked “find out later”, but a lack of internet last evening meant that I couldn’t.  However, the Night Watchman told the story of the end of WW2, when the German army conceded Rothenburg to a particularly considerate American official, negotiating the deal on that very bridge.

So there we were.  The NightWatchman bade us farewell and wished us a peaceful night.  Goodnight Rothenburg!

Walk with us in Rothenburg

Here we are in the foyer of the Hotel Eisenhut, ready to go.  Have we got everything?

Come on then, out of the door and turn left, up Herrngasse, one of the oldest streets in town.  We’re heading towards the city walls.

 

There are already a few people out and about, though the sky is overcast and there’s a light breeze this morning.  Those clouds look a little threatening but we’re optimistic.

There are the inevitable photographers all over too (though we can’t complain about that, when we are carrying cameras as well).

I think it’d be great to have the time do do this, instead.

Anyway, just come inside this small, old Franciscan church where it’s peaceful and rather lovely.  It dates from 1285 and is beautifully maintained.

We’ll turn left here and walk down the side of the old Kloster, following the suggested walking tour route but also drawn to that potential view at the end of the street.

Isn’t it lovely?  The Tauber Valley stretches out in front of us and there’s a fine view of the famous Double Bridge down there, too.

Walking along the original city boundary, we look back and are delighted once again by what we see.

The old city sits on a leafy outcrop and those terracotta roof tiles contrast so well with the fresh green trees, don’t you think?

Through the gateway then and into the castle gardens.  There’s no castle here any more but this small park leads to another fine viewpoint and the gardens are rather lovely too.

We can see another part of the Tauber Valley with a few more groups of ochre-painted houses down there amongst the trees.  This is a beautiful part of the world, for sure.

We’ll turn around and go back through the impressive outer gate of the castle, which is the only part still here.  I love the little roof turrets and the curved walls.

Watch out for boiling tar being poured through the mouth of that face though, won’t you?  Life in medieval times could be dangerous and there’s no knowing what pranks the folks here get up to these days!

It looks like it’s worth the risk, though, because not only is there an attractive street through there, there seem to be fewer groups of tourists in this part of town too.

There’s a pretty little flower covered hotel in this small street too, with an imaginative base for a dining table.  There are so many small lanes and passages, we could spend an age exploring every one.

These small streets usually open up to another, larger thoroughfare which we can recognise, because the city is really quite compact.  This time, we find ourselves on the street which leads to the Klingen tower, on the northern edge of the walled part of the city.

We won’t climb up there to the ramparts (we have sore knees and achy backs to consider after all) but will follow them at street level around for a while before turning right and heading back into the city.

I love these street corners and the buildings which sit so comfortably on them.  This hotel has an interesting shop at ground level and is painted just the right shade to contrast with the deep green shutters.  The red flowers in the window boxes are the perfect finishing touch, don’t you agree?

The speciality of Rothenburg is the Schneeball, made from a baked dough with a sugar coating.  Having seen this window display we wonder whether we’ll indulge ourselves here, but thinking about it, decide to leave that till later.

We’ll have a drink instead (my ice coffee is delicious) and now we’re sitting in the biergarten where people are ordering lunch, my hero has decided that he might be able to manage a little something after all.

Another delicious flammkuchen which we can share, of course!  We rather like it here in the Reichs-Kuchenmeister inn’s garden, overlooking the St Jakob’s churchyard and book a table for supper tonight.  Are you ok with that?

In the meantime, we find the exterior of the Jakobskirche interesting, though we don’t go inside to see the rock crystal which is said to contain a drop of Christ’s blood.  Plenty do, though.

Instead, we walk back through the narrow streets towards the White Tower and the Roder Arch.

The watchtower is a popular place to visit and we can see quite a few people watching out from up there.  We’ll stay on terra firma, though and follow the wall around just a little further, to the star attraction, the Plonlein and the Siebers Tower.

It’s clear why this is the most popular photograph taken in Rothenburg and I’m amazed that I managed to take this one without more than a handful of people in it!  We’ll sit a while and take it all in, shall we?

Looking the other way, towards the market place,

it’s hard to think we drove through there yesterday afternoon, isn’t it?  It was especially difficult because our hybrid car doesn’t make any noise when driving slowly, so the pedestrians don’t get much of a warning, either. 

Whilst we sit here, let’s go over to Mauro’s ice cream parlour and get some, shall we?  Watching the world go by is something we all love to do and here would seem to be the perfect place, especially as a full sized coach has just driven up that street.  The driver must have nerves of steel, even if he is a professional!

It’s our last stop before the market place where there’s a small farmer’s market on today.  If we turn left here, we have only a few steps to go to our hotel.

There it is, yellow with the blue and white awnings.  We have time to put our feet up for a while, to blog, read and draw for a couple of hours before returning to the beer garden for an early supper, because tonight, we’re going to go with the Night Watchman as planned.

All right, yes, you can come too!

Ah, Bavaria!

A different landscape today.  No river to follow, just the autobahn from Wiesbaden through Hessen and into Bavaria, to meet our dear friends for lunch.  The sun was shining, the sky was blue – we were looking forward to seeing them.

 

Lunch had been planned in the biergarten, but just before we arrived, the heavens opened and we had to make a run from car to a table inside the Schluchthof.  Though it would have been lovely to have enjoyed lunch in the fresh air, it didn’t matter – we were in good company, the food was delicious and of course, there were plenty of stories to share.  By the time we’d finished lunch, the sun had come out again and we spent a bonus half hour sitting in the garden before we had to start the next part of our journey.

How we wish we could do this more often – how lovely it would be to simply ring them one morning and say “see you later”.  But never mind – it was great to spend time with them this lunchtime and we are lucky that we were able to do that.

From there, it was a fairly short drive to Rothenburg ob der Tauber.  This is a real tourist hub and more than anywhere else we’ve been so far, we’ve heard English spoken – with accents from all parts of the world.  It was pretty busy this afternoon but as the time wore on, the numbers of visitors decreased and right now, I can hear only a few voices outside our window.

We’re here just two nights, to give my hero a day off driving and to make the most of being here in this beautiful old town.  We’ll walk around it properly tomorrow, so for now, we settled for a short walk around the market place and a look inside Kathe Wohlfahrt’s Christmas Shop.

This evening, making our way back to the hotel from dinner, we came across the Nightwatchman, starting his evening tour.  Looking remarkably like a young Eric Idle, his tour sounded fun – perhaps tomorrow evening, we’ll go with him.

But for now, we have journals to write, books to read and blogs to update.  The view from our window at the Eisenhut hotel is of exactly that – the iron helmet hangs over a quiet street.  We’re hoping for a quiet night too and hope you’ll join us for a walk around Rothenburg tomorrow? 

Got your comfy shoes ready?

Along the river

We’ve spent most of the day exploring the river Rhine, starting from Koblenz where we stayed last night, and ending our day in Wiesbaden. It’s been a fairly warm and humid day with the inevitable thunderstorm this afternoon which cleared the air and left us feeling more comfortable this evening.

Our first stop this morning was Rhens, where many years ago I’d stayed overnight with my parents, en route to or from the Alps where we’d spent our summer holiday.  Such a picturesque village; we couldn’t drive straight through without stopping for a few minutes to take photographs and marvel at the lovely old buildings.

The succession of castles and vineyards prompted many stops along the way, but there was little traffic on the road and it was easy to slow down, wind the windows down and hang out there with a camera.

We parked the car in a few places to have a wander around.  My hero was keen to stop in Boppard, where he’d stayed on a school holiday just a few years ago ( )  and we couldn’t pass straight by the Lorelei (above) without a closer look to see if we were missing something.

Most of the time, we simply ooohed and aaaahed at the glorious scenes around us.  Oh, and took a photograph, of course.

When we reached Bingen, we decided to take the ferry across to Rüdesheim, which provoked many happy memories for me.  I was particularly keen to visit the Niederwalddenkmal and to walk through the Drosselgasse again.  I’d been there a couple of times previously, most memorably as a teenager with Karin’s family and had fond memories of both.

The ferry across the river was remarkably efficient and in no time at all, we were making the ten minute journey and spotting the gondola lift up there to the memorial.  My hero decided straight away that he’d drive up there and meet Mary and I at the lift station.

First, though, a spot of lunch was called for, and following a short wander up the narrow – and rather smarter than we remembered – Drosselgasse, we went our separate ways.  Mary and I hopped into a small gondola for the peaceful ride through the vineyards up to the summit, whilst Mark went back to the car.

It was glorious up there.  So quiet, warm and very clear. 

We were quite sorry to reach the summit.

Until we got closer to Germania, that is.  I’d remembered the memorial as being very impressive indeed and for a fifteen year old, that was quite something!  I didn’t remember it being quite so developed, didn’t recall the terraces and the steps and viewing platforms at all, but all of that made for a great visit this afternoon, for sure.  The mass planting of lavender resulted in a heady aroma around those lower terraces and the overall effect was magnificent.

A heroine such as Germania should be just like this.  Long flowing locks, standing confidently with sword and crown.  She’s a suitable figurehead for the united Germany of 1871 and stands proudly above the most glorious landscape.

What’s more, the thunderclouds were the perfect backdrop for her this afternoon, gathering as they did whilst we were there and causing us to make a quick dash for the car as the heavens opened.  Did someone suggest a Wagnerian soundtrack?

We left the rain behind as we drove to Wiesbaden, though it caught us up  shortly after we arrived and the heavens opened once again.  But thankfully, the rain has passed and we’ve had a pleasant couple of hours in this elegant city, finishing the day in the Paulaner Bierstube.

Who said that we’re leading Mary astray and teaching her bad habits?

On being thankful

And not forgetting.

We decided that, rather than zoom straight down the autobahn into Germany today, we’d take a small detour to Ypres.  Though we’ve visited other places connected to WW1, we’d not been here and on this occasion there were family links.  On entering the town we couldn’t fail to miss the Menin Gate, standing there right in front of us.  We parked the car and got out for a closer look.

We’d read in the guidebook that this memorial lists the names of 55,000 solders killed in the early part of WW1 and we knew that Jack Paddison, the first husband of my hero’s Grandmother, was amongst them.

To begin with, I’d thought it’d be easy to find him, because the gate was a simple arch with names inscribed on each wall.  But this was more than a simple gate as can be seen more easily from the model which was there alongside.  There were side arches, different levels and every surface was covered with long lists of names.

Thankfully, my hero found the book with the guide to who was named where and soon tracked down Private J Paddison of the Northamptonshire Regiment.  With a sigh and a thought of what might have been, we moved on into the centre of the small town, to the market place.

Here, we found the magnificent Cloth Hall.  We pottered around a while, taking photos and enjoying the early Sunday morning peace and quiet.

The details of the other buildings around the square appealed to us too, and a little quiet reflection whilst we gazed up at the interesting roof structures was exactly what we needed.

We very much liked the two contemporary figures alongside the more conventional saints in the niches above the Cloth Hall, learning from the staff in the tourist office that the soldier is King Albert I and his female companion is his queen, Elizabeth.

Fortified by a cherry flavoured Kriek beer and a couple of chocolates (we’re following yesterday’s advice about balanced diets) we moved on to Tyne Cot, where the largest Commonwealth War Graves cemetery contains the remains of the thousands of young men who were killed during the battle of Passchendaele in 1917.

Thankfully, my Grandad isn’t amongst them, because although he fought just along the ridge there in Poelcapelle, on October 9th 1917 he was injured and brought home for treatment.  I won’t say “lived to tell the tale” because he never told any of it – I only know his war story thanks to the historians at the Lancashire Fusiliers Regimental museum who sent me the records from the diaries when I researched my family history recently, too late to ask him any questions.

But as I walked around the headstones, I stopped by a little group of Lancashire Fusiliers and wondered if they were his friends?  It’s a sobering thought that had he not been one of the lucky ones, I’d not be here today on this warm, Sunday morning, to gaze over the fields and try to imagine how it must have been.

Then, just as we’d reached the perimeter of the cemetery, we realised that the whole of that semi-circular wall was also  covered with panels of names – 35,000 of them, including many from New Zealand, Canada, Australia and South Africa.  Overwhelmed, we took one last look around and left feeling very thankful indeed.