Heart of Germany

If I dropped you in the middle of the towns I’ve visited in the past few days, say the Marktplatz, and I didn’t tell you beforehand what country you’d be in, I can almost guarantee you’d know immediately you were in Germany.

You’d be surrounded by colorful half-timbered buildings, cobblestone lanes and people enjoying the outdoor cafes surrounding the town fountain. That was the scene this weekend as the heart of Germany enjoyed warm and sunny weather here in late April.

I dodged kids on bikes, sturdy older folks working their trekking poles and babies crying for more ice cream in Wernigerode. It seemed like the whole town was out on Saturday afternoon to soak up the sun.

I had plenty of hiking to do myself so I decided against sitting down for a long lunch. German street food isn’t fancy but it’s hot off the grill and always pairs well with a tall hefeweizen.

Getting back to the hiking… Wernigerode sits at the base of the Harz Mountains and I felt like I climbed one of the them just to get to the castle to soak in the views. And no, I didn’t take the little tourist train or ride the wagon on the way up like the sane people.

It wasn’t that late in the afternoon so I decided to drive a few minutes further east to visit Quedlinburg. I’d been there five years ago in August of 2018 but much of what I remembered involved trying to find a cold drink. Summers don’t typically get that hot in Germany but I must have timed the only two-week heat wave of that year perfectly.

The lack of air conditioning and the German cultural abhorrence to ice in drinks eventually drains your stamina when you start stacking up the sweltering hiking days. Thankfully, the weather was cool for this visit.

Quedlinburg was a charming town full of exactly what you’d expect to see in the middle of Germany. Taking my cue from the locals, I stopped in a cafe for a quick dessert. While the Brits might savor their tea times, Kaffee und Kuchen is a ritual in the afternoon for Germans. Never a coffee drinker, I instead sampled the local beer.

I messaged a pic to Mom showing her my slice of torte but she more admired the plate it came on. When my waitress returned, I asked her if I could buy the plate to take home to the States. Surprised, she laughed and said she’d wrap if up for “Mutti”.

Now I can hear it clinking every time I hit a bump on the Autobahn (ha).

The following day I headed to a new Airbnb in Marburg. I packed up and pointed my rental car to the southwest but it wasn’t long before I pulled off to inspect another town along the way.

Göttingen was known for its university but its most famous sight was a fountain topped by Gänseliesel (the goose girl). She’s an essential part of graduation celebrations. Every student who finishes a doctorate at the University of Göttingen has to climb the fountain and kiss the statue of the goose girl. It looked like they brought her flowers too.

The door to the nearby Rathaus (city hall), built in 1270, was propped open so I peaked in. There wasn’t anyone around inside and I took my time admiring the medieval wooden beams and ceiling. Every inch was painted in ornate detail and glowed in the warm interior light.

Not far from Göttingen, I pulled over to explore the small river town of Münden. It was the most compact of the towns I’d recently visited, almost cozy. There were far fewer people here but you could find most of them in the Markplatz enjoying lunch.

To me, this is a big cultural difference between Europeans and Americans. Here, they have no problem spending several hours over a meal. Time just seems to slow down. They just seem to savor the little things more.

Münden was almost Fachwerk overload. There were very few invasions of modern architecture in the historic old town. Perhaps that’s why the sleek curves of the Porsche I passed in a parking lot looked even more alluring.

Pretty nice, but silver is my color.

In traditional racing colors, the Italians painted their cars red, the Brits painted theirs green, the French used blue and the Germans… well, the Germans wouldn’t paint their cars so they could save that little bit of extra weight to make them faster. Thus, to me, German cars should look just like the famous Silver Arrows of the 1930s.

I finished my tour of Münden with a walk over a wooden bridge spanning the river Fulda. What a beautiful place. I’d add it to my “best of” German towns list.

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