Schwäbisch Hall & Esslingen, Germany

5 min readApr 27, 2022

We drove west from our home base in Feuchtwangen across the border from Bavaria into the German state of Baden-Württemberg. Our first destination was the historic town of Schwäbisch Hall in the Kocher river valley.

The town was known as just Hall for centuries. “Hall” might be derived from a West Germanic word family that means “drying something by heating it”, possibly referring to the open-pan salt making method used by the saltworks in the area. In 1934, Hall was officially named Schwäbisch Hall.

There are other towns in Germany better known and more frequented by tourists than Schwäbisch Hall. But you’d be hard-pressed to find a more picturesque collection of traditional fachwerk, Gothic and Baroque architecture in such a bucolic setting. The “face” of the town was reflected in the peaceful Kocher river below.

We walked down to the water from the Markplatz in front of towering St. Michael’s Church. Several small islands in the river were connected by covered wooden bridges. We watched as a boy fed happy ducks broken bits of bread along the shore.

Schwäbisch Hall is one of those places where you feel the real Germany reveal itself. A place where regular people go about their lives in a beautiful setting surrounded by history. The jumbled architectural styles in the town provided clear evidence of the turbulence here before the tranquility.

A large star set into the cobblestones of the Markplatz silently marked the spot that furniture and books from the Jewish prayer house were burned by the Nazis during Kristallnacht in November 1938.

Stolpersteine (stumble stones) set into the sidewalks marked the last known locations of the Jewish residents of Schwäbisch Hall before deportation during the Holocaust. I couldn’t help but notice an uneasy contrast with martial-looking eagles still looming in stone from the walls of nearby buildings.

Escaping serious damage during World War II, Schwäbisch Hall was occupied by US Army troops in April 1945, without serious resistance.

As rain moved back into the area, we pointed our Volkswagen to the southwest toward Esslingen. This was the town where I lived and worked in Germany as a Praktikant after college.

Like Schwäbisch Hall, Esslingen maintained a preserved Altstadt filled with timber-framed buildings and colorful Baroque facades. The old city hall topped with a playful Glockenspiel still grabbed my attention as it chimed on the hour.

In Esslingen’s Markplatz, dark clouds swirled overhead. We grabbed chairs under a sturdy outdoor umbrella and ordered tall glasses of Weihenstephaner. Thankfully, the storm clouds just spit a few drops of rain before rolling on and allowing the sun to emerge again.

I took advantage of the break in the weather to hike up the Bergsteige to again take in a view I’d grown to love during my time in Esslingen. Set between vineyards covering a steep hill, the path led up to remains of the old castle fortifications still guarding town.

I’d taken this path many times before. This time, there was something reassuring about the climb and familiar view over Esslingen. Something timeless. No matter what changed elsewhere in the world, this place remained the same, fixed in my memory and in reality.

After descending back into town, I found the old house that my Aunt Patty and Uncle Roger stayed in when they visited me in Esslingen 25 years ago. I can remember them opening that window on the top floor and looking out:

It was late in the day when we finally departed Esslingen. Like Schwäbisch Hall, Esslingen was a place not as well known and touristed as other historic towns in Germany. The more I thought about it, the more I liked it that way.