Day 23 - Rothenberg ob der Tauber

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Day 23
(Wednesday, July 24)
Yesterday, I gave myself with a civics lesson in “Understanding Germans and Germanic culture”. As I consider myself an educated tourist, I endeavour to learn as much as possible about the people and places I visit. I don’t just want to buy the brochure, I want to touch and feel the real things. My second day in Munich was extremely educational. I started by wandering around a camp that was created by Germans to torture and kills Jews, Gypsies, POWs, probably anything that once had a pulse. Following that inspirational stroll through Hun-story, I treated myself to an opportunity that accentuated the gaping difference between my obscenely insignificant wealth and a bunch of delicate prissy Bavarian aristocrats. My afternoon ended by allocating a few torturous hours getting myself cultured? The prognosis on my day’s enlightenment? Bavarians are a bunch of fancy, hateful yet cultured bigoted sadists. Yes, all true and defendable but I felt there was something missing from my diagnosis. What were these Germans really like? What made them tick? Where did they get their inspiration to come up with such evil ways of killing people yet do so with such an air of class and lavishness? I turned to my bible to help fill in the blanks.

Flipping through the pages that cover the local region, I purveyed the descriptions of the area towns. The first name that jumped out was Rothenburg ob der Tauber. Rothenburg ob der Tauber is a walled, medieval imperial Barvarian town. I have been interested in visiting a walled city from my days’ spent learning about Medieval History back at university. This town sounded very interesting to me. As it was located just north of Munich, I could be out of Munich and wandering around at the next stop of my global tour within a couple of hours. Sounded like a plan.

En route to my destination, I read that the town of Rothenburg ob de Tauber was incorporated around 900 AD. It started as a regional fort and over the years grew into a city that
was fully enclosed by a twenty-foot high wall. The imperial free city reached its historical apex in the 1600’s when it became an important regional centre. Around the middle of the 19th century, as part of the unification of Germany, the town became conglomerated into the greater republic. Now primarily a tourist attraction, Rothenburg ob der Tauber acts as a relaxed vacation destination to remind tourists of their storied history. The town was built atop a hill with a myriad of valleys, lush farmlands and meadows surrounding it. What a stunning place to visit. During my walking tour from the station and through the town’s walled entrance, I must have snapped off about a dozen pictures. I took several of town wall and a bunch more of the scenic farmland. Walking along the top of the wall I peered out from the watch-towers and admired the incredible scenery. My walk continued along the entire length of the escapade and occasionally peered down at the tourists below from one of its' many turrets. My basic impression of the city revealed that it was a rather sleepy town with a fabulous history and a good place to spend time away from the main urban centres. After coming from a series of big cities it was nice to finally stroll around the countryside and enjoy the fresh air in an atmosphere of serenity.

Following the length of the wall, my walk eventually led to the youth hostel. I was provided with a pleasant room that had an amazing view of a picturesque scenic valley. Looking out, the room also provided for a marvellous view of the southern end of the town. As it was early, rather than admiring the city from a window I sought to give her a closer look. However, the first task was to buy lunch. Normally an excursion to McDonalds is not newsworthy item but this particular franchise outlet was special. It featured the best product ever offered by the venerable fast food institution. On a cobblestone street in a forgotten city, I chomped down on a McRib sandwich. For all those who know what I am referring to, you will agree that it was a gratifying discovery. Fulfilled, I walked across the street and started with climbing the belfry of the Jakobkirche Cathedral. The objective is to give you a bird’s eye view of the city; however in retrospect I haven’t a clue why we do this. To pay two bucks for the opportunity to scale up countless steps in a weathered stone staircase barely large enough to fit a grown adult and end up on a platform that fits three people. Each person gets a minute to snap off a photo and then continue back down the cramped staircase. I paid my fee, walked up, looked around at the rooftops and walked down. Two bucks lighter in the pocket.

The next stop turned out to be one of the highlights of my visit. I think this is where Himmler used to come on his days off for inspiration. The sign at the entrance of the building alerted visitors to the cities’ Torture Chambers. Descending a darkened staircase I expected to find an attendant monitoring each of the chamber rooms. However, there was nothing. I looked around. I had the entire place to myself. No tourists, no staff, just me. Each room was jammed with items that were used to torture poor krauts. The rooms were the exact same ones that formed part of the town jail. The screams of tortured criminals once reverberated off those same walls. Eerie. I strapped myself into the arm and leg irons and snapped pictures of myself using the auto timer on my camera. A good time had by all, except of course the poor saps who once were tortured there.

In keeping with the theme of probing the inner sanctum of the Germanic mind, my next stop was the Medieval Crime Museum. This place was loaded to the rafters with innumerable methods and instruments of torture. Another chance opportunity to learn why those lovable Deutch denizens are the way they are. Their exhibits included masks that were used to ridicule the local drunks, cheats, liars, busybodies and gamblers. I spent over two hours investigating the many exhibits on the three floors. One of the most memorable exhibits represents the spectacular morbidity of the German psyche. They created something called the Catherine Wheel. On the surface, it was merely a wooden wagon wheel affixed with a steel belt. Sounded fairly innocuous to me, however wait for their punch line. Condemned men were tied down on the ground with their legs and arms spread eagle. The townsfolk then proceeded to take the heavy wooden wheel and smash each and every bone in the body. They started with the feet and hands and slowly smashed the body until the deviant soul was a droopy rubbery mess. Once dead and sufficiently pliable, the body was wound in and out of the spokes of the wheel before being hung up in the town square. Delightful. This wonderful method of capital punishment was reserved for the most heinous rapists or killers. It was no wonder why I did not find a few of these scattered around the compound at Dachau.

The museum of criminal history would not be complete without displaying a wide assortment of other ways to kill people. There detailed an endless series of ways to behead people, hang them in the iron maiden, tie them to pillories, lock them up in stocks or bash them with spiked chains and pointy sticks. For lesser crimes, they had a wide variety of shame masks, instruments to crush toes, fingers, feet, legs etc. On the purely educational side the museum sported early law codes, law books etc. etc. Eventually, my feet gave way and I dragged myself back to the hostel in search of some rest.

After a short nap I went down to the cafeteria for a quick bite to eat. I was greeted with a roomful of loud obnoxious Hun kids. Great. When one decides to stay in a HI symbol, they are virtually guaranteed a sleepless night and having to deal with irritating rug rats. Thankfully, I met a couple of lovely American ladies. The three of us, Heidi, Carrissa and me wandered down to a local outdoor biergarden for a few beverages. It was a beautiful summer evening. Together, we sampled the local brew and tested it for its’ reknown purity and potency. A collective stumble led us back to our quarters and after bidding adieu for the eve we called it a night.

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