Destination: Germany

Rothenburg may feel touristy, but in its day, it was a major artistic and economic force. You see that by the amazing carved altarpiece in its main church.

In St. Jacob’s Church is the artistic highlight of Rothenburg, and perhaps the most wonderful woodcarving in all of Germany: the glorious 500-year-old, 35-foot-high Altar of the Holy Blood. Tilman Riemenschneider, the Michelangelo of German woodcarvers, carved this from 1499 to 1504 to hold a precious rock-crystal capsule that contains a scrap of tablecloth miraculously stained in the shape of a cross by a drop of communion wine.

I was capturing my thoughts in front of Rothenburg’s altarpiece and taking notes in my little book. The passage I was working on: “Before continuing on, take a moment to simply linger over the lovingly executed details: the curly locks of the apostles’ hair and beards, and the folds of their garments; the delicate vines intertwining above their heads; Jesus’ expression, at once tender and accusing.” A man next to me caught my eye. It felt like we were old friends, but I couldn’t place him. He said something like, “Good old-fashioned journalism — in the field with a pencil and notepad…I like that.” He told me that he and his wife were fans of my books and TV shows, and I still couldn’t place him. Finally he said, “I’m Doyle McManus.” Turns out he’s one of my favorite political commentators — a regular on PBS’s Washington Week and columnist for the Los Angeles Times — and he was having a great trip.

I wish every town offered an opportunity to connect with real locals, as Rothenburg does. For over 20 years, whenever I’m in town on a Wednesday evening, I drop by Rothenburg’s English Conversation Club. It’s a rare chance to mix it up with locals who aren’t selling anything. Just bring your favorite slang and tongue twisters to Mario’s Altfränkische Weinstube am Klosterhof (Wednesdays after 6 p.m.). This group of intrepid linguists has met more than 1,000 times. Hermann the German and his sidekick Wolfgang are regulars. When the beer starts to sink in, the crowd grows, and everyone seems to speak that second language a bit more easily. Do you know any other club like this in Europe where an American would be so welcome?

Rothenburg is one of Germany’s most touristy towns. And I absolutely love it.

For years I searched for the elusive “untouristy Rothenburg.” There are many contenders, but none holds a candle to the king of medieval German cuteness. Even with crowds, overpriced souvenirs, Japanese-speaking night watchmen, and, yes, even Schneeballen, Rothenburg is best. Save time and mileage and be satisfied with the winner.

I just finished my research visit to Rothenburg (updating my Rick Steves’ Germany guidebook for 2015), and today and tomorrow, I’ll share a few thoughts, along with a handful of photos.

One thing I added to our Rothenburg chapter was a fun little shopping walk, which leads down the charming main drag, Spitalgasse. I always like to give a new walk I’ve written one last run-through before leaving town. Fun things always happen, and I can add them to my chapter.

Strolling through town as I followed my own tour, I met the owner of an etching shop I mentioned. What I learned from him let me bring more life to his listing:

“At Kunsthandlung Leyrer, Peter Leyer would love to show you his etchings. He’s one of the last artisans using the copper plate technique of Albrecht Dürer to print his art. (After Peter retires in 2017, his 3,500 copper plates from all over Germany will go to a museum.) Peter and his wife print the black-and-white etchings, and then watercolor them in.”

When you travel for several decades, as I have, you see the slow churning of traditions and lifestyles as small family-run enterprises give way to the rising tide of giant corporations. Small hotels, shops, pubs, and so on simply don’t have the economy of scale to compete, and eventually they get washed away. (Particularly insidious are giant chains faking like they’re one-offs that care about their communities; English pub chains are expert at this.) Shops like Peter’s — so real, yet becoming so rare — are a joy to stumble upon.

Do you have any favorite small medieval town in Germany that rivals Rothenburg?

Plönlein, a famously picturesque corner in Rothenburg, is named for the carpenters’ plum line — a string anchored by a plum, creating what gravity guarantees is a straight line. Of course, in this centuries-old town, nothing is “to plum.” If you look up the lane from here, you can see some cute pastel buildings that stand straighter. Being uniform and perfectly to plum indicates they were rebuilt after WWII bombings hit this part of town. By the way, if this image brings you back to your childhood, that’s because it inspired the animators of Walt Disney’s Pinocchio (1940).

Peter Leyer makes his etchings the old-fashioned way — just as Albrecht Dürer did more than 500 years ago. Meeting artisans who lovingly carry treasured traditions into the 21st century inspires me.

In my various lectures, I’ve long driven home the point that in the Middle Ages, today’s Germany — the size of Montana — was made up of hundreds of tiny states. I just found a painting in the streets of Rothenburg that helps visualize the fragmentation of feudal Germany. This painting shows a bird’s eye view of the “country” of Rothenburg in 1537. Back then, Rothenburg actually ruled its own little state — one of about 300 petty dukedoms like this that made up what is today’s Germany. It was 12 miles by 12 miles (or about the size of Denver), with 180 villages.

One evening after dinner, I simply found myself wandering Rothenburg’s cobbled lanes at that moment when the lamps and the sky hold hands — when the sky is no brighter or darker than the streetlamp-lit buildings. The next day I mentioned it to a local friend, who said, “That’s what we call ‘die blaue Stunde’ — the blue hour.” (I was so distracted by the experience, I forgot to take a photo. This one’s by one of our tour guides, Cary Walker.) I’m glad that I now have a term for my favorite time of day in a medieval town.