There are several Rothenburgs scattered around
Germany, but only one ob der Tauber or above the Tauber (River). This one is a
tourist destination and rightfully so.
Wonderfully wrapped within a 13th century
fortification of stone this medieval city has been beautifully preserved.
We can’t
wait to walk the wall. We go early while it’s still cool. There are stairs at
each watchtower and once up, it’s 1.5 miles of covered stone catwalks with
views in all directions. Who once walked here? Watched through the stone
apertures? Safeguarded this city? Their presence is felt through the soles of
my shoes.
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| Watch Tower |
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| Walking the Wall |
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| Wooden Dowel Construction |
Back in
the main square, the Marktplatz, Jim sits on some shaded steps while I explore.
Inside the town hall is a circular staircase, set against a wall, and not much
else. The stairs lead to a big empty room with a turnstile at one end. The
turnstile has a green light glowing, so I walk through, (I find out later that
if the light is red you must wait because they limit the number of people at
the top. Foolish oblivion on my part.) More stairs, still circular and becoming
narrower with each flight. They turn from stone to wood. I’m climbing a tower.
At the top of the increasingly rustic staircase are a small circular room and a
woman sitting on a stool beside a desk. Beside her is a ladder leading to daylight.
It will cost me 2 euros to climb that ladder. After getting this far how many
people say “no thanks” and head back down? I’m going up that ladder. After
hoisting myself onto a metal platform I can see that I am at the 164-foot pinnacle
of Rothenburg. There’s a bell in this tower and I hope not to be here when it
rings. The view is magnificent looking down on the rooftops, to the wall, and
out beyond to the emerald green countryside. Definitely worth the climb.
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| On The Way Up |
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| Tower Stairs |
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| Final Ladder |
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| Made It |
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| Big Old Bell |
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| My Tower |
In the
Marktplatz is a man selling apple cider in glass mugs. He’s actually pressing
the apples right there and doing a brisk business. It’s cold and full of
flavor.
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| Apple Cider Anyone? |
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| Apple Peels |
Jakobskirche,
(Church of St James), is a stop on the route of the Santiago de Compostella
pilgrimage to St James Church in Spain, (where the apostle Saint James is
buried). It’s the first Lutheran church we’ve visited. Bavaria is predominantly
Catholic. A sculpture of James stands outside the church holding the symbol of
the pilgrimage, a scallop shell, and pointing somewhere…to Spain? His finger is
worn and shiny from the stroking of many hands.
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| Jakobskirche |
Inside the church is the masterpiece of Tilman
Riemenschneider. Carved in the 1500’s it is a depiction of the Last Supper.
Evidently Judas is removable and they take him away during Easter.
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| Scallop Shell |
Our hotel is delightful. Tucked on a cobbled
side street the stuccoed walls of this 600-year-old building are covered with
vines and flowers. There are only 6 guest rooms, each one with a small paned
window that opens out above a flower box. Inside are open-beamed ceilings,
breakfasts lit by candlelight and a classic German pub. On Wednesday nights the
English Conversation Club meets in the pub for dinner, sitting at a long table
with an ECC placard in the center. The table is full when we arrive for dinner,
but we sit adjacent and Rupert, an 80 year old who drove a panzer in WWII,
introduces himself. It looks like fun with lots of stories to be heard and
told, but we have a date with the Night Watchman.
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| Hotel Altfrankische Weinstube |
A night watchman, in medieval times, walked the
city, testing doors to see that they were locked, lighting lamps and keeping an
eye out for the evil that most people believed lurked in darkness in that
superstitious period. Fire was the most feared occurrence and he was always
ready to alert the town, if necessary. The watchman was a lowly station with
only the executioner and the coroner with less prestige. He did important work,
but got little respect.
Our night watchman is dressed in black robes and
carries a long combination hatchet/spear, (for defense), a lantern, and a horn,
(to sound the alarm). We follow him, (along with at least 150 others), on his
rounds through the dark city. In a unique excursion that lasts an hour he stops
several times to recount pieces of Rothenburg history and to point out
significant structures. He is hilarious. The hour slips by too fast, but we’re
left with a feel for what it must have been like to live in Rothenburg so long
ago and warm memories of this inventive and entertaining guy.
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| New Friend |
My favorite story? At a certain hour a warning
bell was sounded that gave any townsperson who was outside the walls one hour
to get back into the fortified city before the huge gate was closed for the
night. If a person arrived after “curfew” they had to pay a fine and a small
(really tiny, actually) door was opened to allow them and only them to stoop
through it and come inside. The minute door, called a manhole, made it possible
for those inside to protect themselves from being overrun by invaders who
knocked at the gate and asked pretty please can we come in? The fine kept
people from becoming careless about returning on time.
We fall asleep to a lullaby of German being
spoken on the hotel’s cobble-paved courtyard drifting through our open window.
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| Just Because |
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| Cruising Rothenburg |
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| Horse Trough 1 |
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| Horse Trough 2 |
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