July 17 - Beginning the Romantic Road

(John) We are on the milk-run train from Bacharach to Mainz, then transferred to Wurzburg.

I've noticed that Germans do love flowers. Every yard and window box is replete with geraniums, petunias, and lavender spilling over walls and tumbling from their containers. Also, the graveyards are finely manicured. Each grave is like a miniature garden with blooming plants, trimmed hedges, and polished stone.

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We just completed the Prince Bishop's Rezidenze in Wurzburg. It's a huge Rococo palace, including a private Baroque chapel that connects directly with the bishop's private chamber.

The entry stairs are covered by a huge fresco placing Europe and the bishop at the center of the universe, and recognizing three other continents simply as the habitat of fanciful animals and barbaric peoples.

Apparently, once upon a time, Barbarossa asked the bishop of Wurzburg to grant him a divorce. The bishop agreed, and when Barbarossa later became emperor he rewarded the bishop with the temporal title of prince, the power of an elector, along with the territory and wealth that accompanies the titles. Now we are off to Rothenburg.

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We got to Rothenburg with no problem. This picturesque town has managed (due to 300 years of poverty) to keep most of its five and six hundred year old buildings, and the entire fifteenth century wall with it's towers.

Though the old city was damaged near the end of WWII, an American colonel saved the city from further damage because his mother had once visited the city and loved it. Rothenburg's setting is unique, high on a bluff above the Tauber river. It's very beautiful. Of course, that also makes the place a huge tourist Mecca.

Dinner this evening was in The Golden Rose Biergarten. Gene had Jaegerschnitzel with home made noodles. I had Sauerbraten mit spaetzel. We must have done or said something nice, because the owner gave us a kirsch licquer "on the house". I didn't see anyone else get the same treat, but it's a mystery as to exactly why we were thus honored. It was a terrific way to end the meal. From there, we walked back up hill into the heart of town where we met up with the nightwatchman's tour, a rich history laden walk through Rothenburg during the middle ages.

(Gene) Before we left Bacharach this morning, John and I sat on the steps of a store that I had visted 31 years ago. I had purchased a hand made/painted stein at the Phil Jost store/factory. I remembered the experince vividly for all those years. So much that I asked them if they had moved. They told me the story that they had. They offered to take me to the site and see it as they still have stock just sitting around. John & I were short on time as we had a train to catch or I would have taken them up on their kind offer. They did share with me that tourism has slowed over the past decade, they could not keep the staff to run the factory and thus, had to down-size. Of course, I did have to buy a memory. I bought a German pewter mini water jug.