November 9, 2024
Our guide for the afternoon walk around the city of Bamberg, Germany, was a conscientious young university student. *Friedrich, tall, with his tawny brown hair center-parted, was clearly a history-lover. Laden down with bags full of photos and information, he barely had a free hand to carry his requisite blue flag for us to follow in the crowds.
A Bavarian city situated along the banks of the Regnitz River, near the confluence with the Main River, Bamberg's cobbled streets are lined with buildings dating back to the eleventh century.
At one of our first pauses in the tour, our guide pointed out the homes along the water. Centuries ago, when there was no proper sanitation, these homes were occupied by the poor of the city, as no one else was willing to live with the ensuing stench. These days, with city utilities in place, they are occupied only by the wealthy.
Despite heavy bombing during WWII, there remains 2,400 timbered or half-timbered homes in the old town of Bamberg. Worth noting, I researched the difference between those two terms using a variety of sources, and found very conflicting information so I'll use the term I heard the most, half-timbered, to mean the houses that have visible beams on the outside of the house. One of the stories I heard from a couple of different guides was that these beams came from ships that had been wreaked. I suppose that's possible, but I'm not totally convinced.
Sprawling over seven hills, there was a good bit of exercise as we walked about the city. We walked up to the Old Palace, the New Residence and Bamberg Cathedral, which make up Cathedral Square.
The story is, one of the rulers (maybe a bishop-prince) decided that the old palace wasn't to his liking, so he dreamed up a massive, but relatively plain new home. I thought the older building, with its exposed timbers and flourishing planter boxes much more attractive.
The New Residence, a 17th century palace, with its plain façade was impressive and imposing, but not what I call pretty.
While there were seemingly miles of plain limestone walls, there were a few interesting features, like this ornate portal with the city crest and statues.
And a fancy door knocker reminiscent of the one on Ebenezer Scrooge's door. I can almost see "old Marley's" face in it.
We weren't able to tour inside of either building, but walked through the entry of the New Residence. As the story goes, this Prince-Bishop needed his beauty sleep, so had the entrance paved with wooden cobbles instead of stones, to soften the sound of the horses hooves as they pulled the carriages of visitors in.
Behind the New Residence was an extensive rose garden. Being November, it was no longer lush and colorful, but a few blossoms brightened the gray.
The gardener in me couldn't help notice the struggles with mosaic and black spot on the leaves.
Surrounding one long side of the garden was a stone wall. Since we had walked up a long hill, there was quite a view of the city beyond the wall.
This last minute river cruise was never meant to be a full tour of Europe, but rather a taste of the areas surrounding the Rhine, Main and Danube rivers. By this point in the trip I'm beginning to understand the way things work. There are many buildings and institutions open for tours, but on this cruise, we'll only view them from the outside, unless, as in the case of the music and glass museums, that is the focus of a port stop. One could, however, forgo the entire tour, book a museum entry online, and take alternate transportation to it. It would require some careful planning.
On that note, leaving the courtyard of the New Residence, we walked across the cobbled Cathedral Square to the Bamberg Cathedral. Pausing in the middle for some comments, our guide had to point out that there was actually a road running through the center. It was rather confusing, because it was only marked by some metal dots between the cobbles. As we milled around a bit to take photos, Friedrich had to keep pulling us out of the traffic lane as a car made its way through the square.
With four spires reaching 81 meters (about 266 feet) into the blue, this majestic, Romanesque style cathedral was completed in the thirteenth century. Two other cathedrals that previously stood on this location (constructed in 1012 and 1087) burned down.
Some quick research shows this magnificent structure to have a lavishly appointed interior, interesting statues, and houses the remains of many notables. One intriguing detail. There is a chapel beneath the northwestern tower that has a glass case containing the skulls of the original founders of the cathedral, Heinrich and Kunigunde.
While we didn't go inside the cathedral, we did walk around to a couple of the entrance doors. Both were far beyond just a means of gaining entry. The first had these ornate rusty hinges that reached across the tall, narrow door.
Another door was equally intriguing. Arching over it was a relief of "The Final Judgement". Christ, with His open wounds visible, sits in the center. On His right hand are joyful, thankful faces. On His left, garish grins attempt to mask horror as the doomed are dragged off by a demon to their eternal fate.
That Bamberg is a predominantly Catholic city is obvious by various sculptures around town. Here, beside a walkway up the hill, Christ has fallen beneath the heavy cross.
And a crucifixion scene near one of the several town bridges. Though our group gathered here around this very large, hard to miss sculpture, our guide didn't even mention it. I came back later to take photos.
Jesus Christ, as He gave His all, out of love for mankind.
While there are said to be around 2,400 half-timbered houses in the old part of the city, much of the architecture has a baroque influence. Some subtle, and some rather garish.
This style was said to have come about with the heavy influence of two Schonborn brothers who served as prince bishops of Bamberg from the late 1600s to mid 1700s. We were even told that tax credits were given to those who would plaster over their outdated timbers and have the whole thing painted over. A few, like this blue building, were quite beautiful.
And below, from my vantage point on one of the many bridges, baroque meets medieval half-timbered.
Bamberg, situated on the Regnitz River has multiple bridges for both traffic and pedestrians. So many of my pictures are either of a bridge, or taken from standing on a bridge, with the latter being a way of ensuring someone doesn't walk right in front of my shot.
The last "B" for Bamberg is beer, which is a big thing here. While I'm not a big beer drinker (okay, not at all), I still find the culture of it intriguing. I like the idea of sitting in a cozy pub with my friends, pints in hand. Bamberg is known for "smoked beer". Tales abound on how it came to be, and I'm told that it can actually be quite nasty until you get used to it. But still, the town, and specifically one brewery, is famous for it. Located on a narrow, crowded street, the Schlenkerla has been serving this beverage since the early 1400s. Though there was no good vantage point for a photo, the building is easy to spot, with its signature, ornate half-timbered design and green shutters.
It was around 4:00 in the afternoon so their were a lot of feet pounding the cobbles. An ornate gold sign above the door proclaimed the opening year to be 1405.
The further we traveled into Germany, and towards the festive holiday season, the more I saw of one of my favorite drinks, Gluwein, a spicy mulled wine that is typically only served around Christmas. With a bit of time before I needed to meet my fellow passengers, I popped into a cozy café. Being a Saturday evening, it was quite crowded, so I asked if I could sit outside. I found a spot on a blanket-topped metal chair, beside a table that wobbled precariously on the cobbles. My drink arrived in a glass mug, along with the crispy pastry I'd ordered. It was lovely to watch the people walk by, with my hand wrapped around the warming drink. But all this had taken time, and before I knew it, it was time for me to walk back to the meeting point. I was able to flag down my server when she came out to take another order, and asked her for my check, as well as a cup to go. She looked at me rather blankly. Truth is, this part of the world has stayed away from paper products for the most part. When I explained that I might actually miss the boat, or have to leave my drink behind, she said she'd see what she could do. Finally, when I was about to bolt, she came out with a paper cup from some random coffee shop. It didn't appear to be previously used, so I thanked her, dumped the rest of my drink in, and was on my way through the darkening city. No lid, so I stopped frequently to drink a bit.
I was a little unsure of which street to take, but knew the general direction. I decided to just follow the river. Most details were cloaked in evening, but a few stood out in blackened silhouette against the apricot afterglow.
After pocketing my empty, smashed cup, I more or less sprinted to our meeting place. Our string of busses hadn't quite arrived yet, but Irma was there, and told me she was very worried I'd miss the boat. I didn't think I'd actually get left behind, though they pretty much never did a head count, but I was also glad the busses hadn't been delayed by me.
On our return I went straight to our gem of a pool, where I had it entirely to myself again. Such a lovely secret.
*I often forget our guide's name before the tour even gets underway, or never even hear it as I'm still trying to find the proper channel on my listening device. So that may not be his real name.
