Glass Museum and the German Berg of Wertheim

 November 7, 2024

After off-loading the majority of its passengers in Miltenberg, the Emerald Sun continued eastward on the Main River, to dock in Wertheim, Germany.  We passengers would arrive in that beautiful, medieval city in the late afternoon, having been transported by bus.

Situated between mountain ranges, and at the confluence of the River Mein and the River Tauber, this ancient city dealt with repeated flooding through the ages. Through the years a few safety measures and modifications have been implemented that somewhat mitigates the problem.  Flood gates were installed, and the main streets were raised up a meter or two.  The latter relegating some first floor shops to the basement.  During our short walking tour we saw many buildings with flood marks recorded on them.  While these measures have helped, flooding does still occur some years.

With only about an hour and a half in town, Wertheim was more of a paragraph than a chapter on this journey back into German history.  A few things stood out after a whirlwind tour; a leaning tower, a castle on the hill, Jewish history, and glass.  

Standing prominently in the old town is the 13th century Pointed Tower, or Spitzer Turm.  Presumably once part of the city wall, its foundations have been weakened by centuries of flooding, leaving it tilting to one side.  Historical uses include a town look-out tower for fires, or any other threats, as well as a jail for petty crimes (bickering women was mentioned).  What is not clear is its current purpose, or if any efforts are being made to keep it from tilting further.  Perhaps they are just waiting for it to topple over on some unsuspecting tourist.

 High on a hill overlooking the town are the ruins of the Wertheim Castle.  Construction began around the year 1200, but expansions took place over the next four centuries.  Time, and the ravages of wars left it in ruins.  Beginning 1982, some renovations took place to make it safer for exploration.  

Better seen when lit up at night, it would have been fun to climb up the hill to explore.  If I ignored every cheerfully lit shop in town, I may have had time for the walk, but not to explore.

Jewish people had called Wertheim their home since the year 1222.  The last synagogue built in town was constructed on Judengasse, or Jews' Alley, in 1799.  When Hitler began persecuting the Jews, many of them were able to flee the area.  

In September 1938, on Kristallnacht, the interior of the synagogue was destroyed.  The building was demolished in 1961.  I believe these were items salvaged from the building before it was torn down.  

Nineteen Jews from Wertheim were sent to the concentration camps, but only four of them survived the horrors.  The remains of the fifteen who perished undoubtedly were not respectfully buried.  But on a steep hill above Wertheim is a Jewish cemetery that is likely the oldest in Germany.  In use as a Jewish burial ground until 1935, the earliest marked grave is dated 1406.  Due to time constraints and early darkness, I was not able to visit this peaceful place in person.  Some research shows that it is open to the public if a gate key is obtained in town.  Something to plan for on another trip. 

The narrow, winding streets of downtown Wertheim were quaint, carless, and populated with a variety of architectural styles.  Smooth stucco, slate shakes, and half-timbers clad the walls and roofs of buildings that seem to jut willy-nilly into the cobbled streets. 

With property taxes being levied based on a building's footprint size, one clever guy built his home with a compact footprint, but each successive level canted and bayed out to create more living space.  Appearing to be straight out of a fairy tale book.

Since the middle ages Wertheim has been known for its glassworks.  There are still many shops and factories about town producing both functional and beautiful pieces, including for industrial use.  Our main destination for this stop was Glasmuseum Wertheim.  A compact, two-story building, the glass museum was crowded with other tour groups.  Our guide first poked her head in the door to be sure that there would be room for us to enter.  

In a back room, tucked in a corner by the stairs, Hans was just finishing up a glass blowing demonstration for a packed crowd.  As they filed out to visit the rest of the museum, we squeezed in, with me getting a seat on a folding chair right up front. 

Using a high-tech, and obviously very high temp heater, Hans chatted while he created a blown Christmas ornament for the elderly woman who volunteered to be his helper.  He printed her name on the hot globe, but the letters are quite distorted so I can't make out her name. 

When our turn was done we dispersed to tour the rest of the museum.  I took a short turn upstairs but wasn't in a learning mood, so soon made my way back down to the little gift shop near the entrance.  There were many lovely, albeit pricy, items to purchase.  And yes, they would ship them home for us, but I really don't need any more fragile dust-catchers, so I bought a simple star that is now hanging on my Christmas tree.

Small, and not overly fragile, I tucked my little treasure into my purse and went out to wander the dark streets until time to return to the ship.

Most of my fellow passengers must have been in the many shops, because the streets were virtually empty.  There were just enough shadows to add some mystery to my explorations.  I made friends with a cat curled up in an alley, but his picture showed as two glowing orbs surrounded by a blur.  Cats like attention too much to sit for a photo when a scratch behind the ears is in the offing.  

A ten minute walk brought me to the harbor where our beautiful ship, and soon, a warm dinner, was waiting.  

The Medieval Charm of Miltenberg, Germany

 Thursday, November 7, 2024

From one end of its cobbled streets to the other, Miltenberg is populated with colorful, half-timbered buildings, standing shoulder to shoulder.  Indeed, they seem almost to be leaning on one another.  At first glance it might be assumed to be a part of a themed amusement park, but these buildings are the real deal.   

Having left the Rhine River yesterday, we'd been cruising on the Main River (pronounced like mine).  During the night we went through numerous locks (there are 68 on the entire cruise) and there was quite a bit of bumping around on some of them, so I didn't sleep well.  

After breakfast there was a lovely zither performance by an elderly man who had come on board at one of the lock stops.  My mom used to have a zither that I believe belonged to her father.  I learned how to play Silent Night on it.  Unfortunately it was destroyed in their house fire.  

After a short bus ride, we entered Miltenberg by way of the Wurzburg Gate.  Though centuries old, it stood stalwart in the middle of the street with vehicles and pedestrians flowing through and around it.  The clock appeared to be keeping the correct time.

Dating back to the fourteenth and fifteenth century, Miltenberg was not destroyed during during WWII, so the buildings are neither restored nor replicated, though obviously upkeep has been needed through the years.

Many of the buildings had their construction date painted on them, such as the building below, built in 1333.

A few centuries ago, the citizens of Miltenberg, like most people in Germany, were unable to read and write. So shop owners hung ornate pictorial signs outside their shops.  Bakeries were denoted by a pretzel.

A pair of crossed axes marked a butcher shop.

The building below seemed far too elegant to be a butcher shop, but there were sausages hanging in the window.

Like most towns in Germany, Miltenberg was primarily Catholic.  The virgin Mary or Mary with the Christ Child, showed up on many buildings, even if they weren't churches. 

In the photo below, notice the serpent beneath their feet, and a very blond young Jesus with a cross-topped spear embedded in its head.

In nearly every city I toured there were memorials to the Jewish people who suffered atrocities at the hands of the Nazis.  Below, a single suitcase denotes the pitiful amount of their belongings they were allowed to take to the camps when they were deported.

Hotel Zum Riesen is noteworthy as being not only one of the most unique looking, but, dating back to as early as 1411, one of the oldest continuously operating hotels in the world.  I'm unsure of the original structure, but its present, half-timbered form was constructed in 1590.  Numerous interior renovations have taken place in the ensuing years.  According to our guide, many famous people have stayed here, including Elvis Presley. 

A couple of other interesting hotels were found about town.  In the oddly angled picture below, the building on the far right is Schmuckkaestchen Hotel and Café. 

Once our tour was over, I had a couple of hours to explore the cobbled streets on my own. There were endless nooks and crannies to follow, while still staying a reasonable distance from our meeting point. 

Sprinkled throughout the cobbled streets were little souvenir shops, with the most common items being warm hats, scarves and gloves.  It was damp and chilly, but I'd already purchased a stocking hat in Cologne, and was sticking to the one scarf I'd brought, a Van Gogh "iris" one that doubled as a cover-up for my swimsuit, as well as a blanket for the plane.  One of my brighter ideas.

I have the hardest time resisting a bend in the road or a quirky flight of stairs.  But I admit to being somewhat directionally challenged.  The thought of the ship's crew having to scour the city for me was enough to keep me circling back on occasion to make sure I didn't get totally lost.  I have, and I would prefer to avoid the anxiety that ensued.  

All's well that ends well.  I had my ramble, and joined the others on the brisk walk back to the busses.  I even had time to run down to a public restroom before boarding.  Once on the warm bus with all our extra layers peeled off, we were told that the team had gone out to search for six missing people.  They were eventually found and escorted back, but I was glad to not be numbered among them.

The Charming Bavarian Town of Rudesheim, Germany

 Wednesday, November 6, 2024, afternoon.

Clinging to a hillside, dotted with fall color, is the village of Rudesheim.  Our primary destination here was a visit to Siegfried's Mechanical Music Museum.  A bright, toy-like train came to transport us, in a meandering fashion, from the ship to the museum. 

We were crammed in, knee to knee, with me looking backwards as we rode.  It was a short zigzag through the hilly town, culminating near this unique museum.  Housed in what had been a knight's residence since the 15th century, was a collection of instruments that mechanically produced music.  

Portions of this building date back to 1310.  Rooms were small, so we had to really crowd in.  Some of the around 350 instruments were big enough to almost fill the room.  

I didn't catch the names of many of the instruments that were demonstrated for us, but all were fascinating.  Our museum host was lively and enthusiastic, so perfect for the job.  She danced and sang along with the instruments. 

Every detail was beautifully painted.  These larger units would have been prohibitively expensive, and usually only owned by public establishments.

In the mid 1960s Siegfried Wendel and his wife, Gretel, were honeymooning in Los Angeles and discovered a museum full of mechanical musical instruments.  For the next several years he dreamed of creating something similar in Germany.  

This is one of the most elaborate of its kind, with six violins, a player piano, and flutes.  Each violin has only one string.

It took a few years to find the perfect location for the Music Cabinet, as it was called.  The half-timbered building that houses it in Rudesheim has some beautiful detail but our focus was on the instruments.  

Of course Thomas Edison's phonograph earned a spot in the museum. 

 

All of the earlier instruments relied on fragile paper rolls.  Improvements were made through the years so that they would last longer.  Here our guide is holding a large, heavy roll for an "organ grinder" that would have been used on city streets.  If I recall, there was often a monkey involved.

When our 45 minute tour was over and we'd had a browse through the giftshop, we were free to wander the town for a couple of hours.  

I did my usual routine of getting turned around and walking twice as far as needed before finding my way back to the little train.  Many had already walked back to the ship so it was quite empty.  I got a front-facing seat for the relaxing ride back.  

On my return I rapped on the my friend Irma's door and invited her to go for a swim with me.  Then, before dinner, a nice hot shower to chase away remnants of another very chilly day.