Louis the Dog waits for the start of the Nightwatchman tour in the town square.
As I'm cleaning out my house getting ready to rent it and head off on another adventure, I ran across this hand-written note of an afternoon and evening I spent in Rothenburg ob der Tauber in December of 2008 (at the time I was living in Bamberg, Germany). Here's an out-of-season blast from the past about the German town that celebrates Christmas year-round.
After five days of "schnee-regen" (slushy rain), we got an honest to goodness dumping of real snow overnight. Because of the earlier rain, the snow has clumped onto buildings and trees so picturesquely that one would think the entire region has been professionally flocked. The effect was pretty in Bamberg, but positively magical in Rothenburg under lit Christmas trees lining the streets of the town center every dozen feet or so. It is like walking through one of those Lilian Vernon miniature Christmas villages my mother used to love so much.
Lit and decorated Christmas trees lined all the town's main streets.
I got here around 3 p.m. and easily found my hotel. I wasn't expecting much for 25 Euro (about $40) per night, but it's actually quite nice. No TV and no bathroom but clean and larger than a closet. Given my current comprehension level of German the lack of TV is not really a hardship. And given that I have a least five hours of German "hausaufgabe" (homework) to complete before Monday, I have plenty to keep me entertained.
While Rothenburg itself is Winter Wonderland spectacular, I was underwhelmed by their Christmas market. Mostly yet more Käthe Wolfkarte stands (aren't three stores and a year-round "Christmas Museum" enough for one town?). The purveyor of the nicest quality stand - wooden creche figures - turned out to be from Israel. I told the man they were lovely and got quite an extensive conversation in German in return. He was easier to understand than most locals, possibly because as a fellow foreigner he took pity on me and spoke slower!
A perfectly flocked tree branch outside my hotel.
I had another nice conversation with a woman out walking her eleven year old block-like West Highland terrier. She (the dog) started whining and running towards me so of course I had to pet her and tell her how "suß" and "schön" (sweet and pretty) she was. The woman said she never meets Americans who speak German. That seems to be a common theme in Rothenburg, city of Anglophone and Japanese tourists. In Bamberg I'm expected to speak German and when I don't understand everything I get the "Poor thing you must be the village idiot" look. Here everyone immediately starts speaking English. The funny thing is when I open my mouth to speak and they hear my accent and "realize" I'm French (I have a French accent when I speak German) they start speaking to me in very slow, very loud English: "Do. You. Understand. A. Little. English?" Um, yeah...most days anyway.
One of the last walled cities of Europe, back 'in the day' this doorway was the only way in or out of Rothenburg.
I also happened upon a deserted Winter Wonderland park replete with imposing castle, views over the valley and river ("der Tauber") below, crunchy snow and an enormous sparkling Christmas tree. It was lovely, peaceful and just what I needed after what has been a frustrating and lonely week in Bamberg. It's good to be reminded that I can still enjoy traveling after 13 months on the road. Sometimes my unrequited yearning for my dog and pajamas lands me in the dumps... discovering a place as lovely as Rothenburg is a good antecdote.
A deserted park and crunchy snow... what could be better?
Tonight I'm off to the "Nightwatchman's Tour", whatever that may be. It's in English and hoping against hope it might involve history and maybe even a ghost or two. Now THAT would make my trip to Rothenburg complete!
That was the end of my hand-scribbled entry. If anything the night got better. The tour met in the main square and while loitering around waiting I saw an enormous dog with his people. It turns out this was "Louis" who belonged to American expats living in Brussels and on vacation in Germany. Despite being well over 100 pounds, Louis had made the trip to Europe with no problems and his people told me traveling with him in Germany was a breeze. Indeed, Louis was the star of the evening, with many tourists and Germans alike wanting their picture taken with him.
Louis and a couple other canines joined us for the tour, lead by a very sinister looking fellow with a wicked sense of humor to match. Rothenburg is a walled city and once the door was closed only a watchman at the one (small) door into town could open it. The whole system worked fabulously against invading forces, but did little to prevent the population from nearly being wiped out during the Black Plague. Like Bamberg, World War II mainly missed Rothenburg. In Rothenburg's case it was saved from full scale American bombing by dent of being a favorite tourist destination of an American general's mother.
After the two hour tour I tackled walking the ancient walls in the dark. Mmmm... not the best idea without a flashlight. I have to admit I gave myself the screaming habdabs imagining ghosts and ghoulies. And the frozen ice on the wooden stairs wasn't too reassuring either. The rest of the evening I spent wandering the snowy and deserted streets and gazing in shop windows at bratwurst and the town specialty, Schneeballs (don't ask... they look better than they taste). Sure it's touristy, but I can't imagine a better pre-Christmas destination and a better place for a California girl to enjoy the exoticness of snow. With any luck next year it will be Brogan's photo I snap in front of the town hall!
Soft-ball sized 'Schneeballs': eat at your own risk.
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