Skip to content
Join our Newsletter

Travel: The Romantic Road

Germany’s most popular holiday route lives up to its name
61869_l

Some roads, by virtue of geography or history, deserve more than just a highway number. "Sea to Sky" is a natural for the stretch of British Columbia's Highway 99 from Vancouver to Whistler, and Californians can justly refer to Highway 49 as the "Gold Rush Trail." But the name "Romantic Road" is less obvious for a 355 km stretch of highway in southern Germany.

Back in the 1950s a group of tourist agents coined the name to describe a "theme route" between Wurzberg and Fussen. The name stuck and the Romantische Strasse has become by far the most popular and busiest holiday route in Germany. Its name is not meant to promote a destination for honeymoon couples but rather a reference to the charm of its picturesque medieval towns and the beauty of the Bavarian countryside. We decided to go have a look for ourselves.

At Wurzburg, the official start of the Romantic Road, we transferred from our ship on the Main River to a minivan and began our sample drive with a look around town. From Marienberg Fortress, high up on the west bank of the Main, we got a sweeping view of the city - from the bridges and docks on the river, across the maze of narrow streets in the "Altstadt" (Old City), to the perimeter road and the forest beyond. The Fortress was clearly located where its occupants could spot an enemy approaching by either land or water. It was begun in the year 1201 but the history of Wurzburg goes back even farther.

In the year 686 three Irish monks were murdered in Wurzburg while attempting, unsuccessfully, to convert the resident Duke to Christianity. But instead of dampening the ardor of the church the murders gave the victims the status of martyrs. They were later sainted and Wurzburg became a destination for Christian pilgrims. By 742 it was a full-fledged Christian bishopric and home to the all-powerful prince-bishops who ruled the city for the next thousand years.

For the first 500 years the prince-bishops lived atop the hill in Marienberg Fortress. Hunkering down behind its protective walls and scanning the landscape for approaching trouble was a prudent survival tactic but life in a cold, drafty castle was dreary at best and usually downright miserable. In the early 18 th century Prince-Bishop Johann Philipp Franz von Schonborn decided it was safe to move to more comfortable quarters and, in keeping with his exalted self-image, undertook to build one of the most opulent, ornately extravagant residences ever conceived.

Schonborn died before his new house was completely finished and suitably decorated. But his successors, with the help of numerous world-renowned architects and artists, and virtually unlimited money, carried on for another 24 years and in 1744 the "Residenz" and its surrounding gardens were completed in a style worthy of a Bishop. Now a UNESCO World Heritage Site, the Residenz is one of the finest baroque structures in Germany - a lavish symbol of the wealth and prestige of Wurzburg's ruling bishops.

Before leaving Wurzburg we spent a couple hours wandering through the gold-embossed rooms of the Residenz, craning our necks to view the vast ceiling murals and marveling at the sheer size of the place. The fresco on the vaulted ceiling above the grand staircase, painted by the renowned Venetian artist, Giovanni Tiepolo, depicts the four known continents paying homage to the prince-bishops. It is said to be the largest ceiling painting in the world, and it is just one of the myriad paintings and statues that adorn each and every room of the sprawling Residenz. It was all assembled to satisfy the personal whims of incredibly wealthy bishops with unlimited power and egos to match.

From Wurzburg we drove 60 km south to the medieval city of Rothenburg ob der Tayber. The road winds through a pastoral landscape of grassy rolling hills, patches of deciduous forest and neatly manicured farmland. Tiny villages, each with its tall slender church spire and cluster of small houses, are scattered among the hills. I expressed surprise at the absence of farm buildings and the driver explained. "The people here are very sociable. They want to be near their neighbours and their church, so they live in villages rather than on their farms."

The forest and open fields extend right up to the massive gate through Rothenburg's perimeter wall. Inside the wall, which runs between strategically placed watchtowers, the cobblestone streets and old half-timbered buildings decked out with hanging flower baskets are much the same as they were hundreds of years ago. According to our tour guide, Rothenburg itself was spared the destruction of past wars and is now the best-preserved medieval town in Europe.

The Romantic Road was originally a trade route used by the Romans and for a time the settlements along the way prospered and villages such as Rothenburg grew into thriving market towns. But the area was later ravaged by a succession of wars, culminating with the Thirty-Years War (1618-1648) a bitter conflict between Protestant and Catholic forces that left most of the towns and cities of Bavaria in ruin. Ironically the devastation of that war contributed indirectly to Rothenburg's remarkable preservation.

In 1631 Rothenburg, a Protestant town, was occupied by the Catholic forces of General Tilly, a merciless warlord who demanded a draft of wine before setting about the task of leveling the town. Offered a seven-pint "humpen" of local wine the general was unable to down it in a single draft and was so embarrassed that he offered to spare the town if anyone else could do so. Ex-Mayor Nauch stepped forward, downed the humpen without taking a breath and saved the town. Tilly was good to his word and while Nauch slept off one of history's biggest hangovers the general and his army marched away leaving the town undamaged. But the war had destroyed the economic base of the region and Rothenburg, like many other settlements in Bavaria, slid into decline. Its citizens drifted away and, except for the occasional transient herder, its streets and buildings were abandoned.

Until it was "rediscovered" by the tourist industry in the mid-19 th century Rothenburg lay dormant, a medieval town frozen in time, undamaged by war and unchanged by modern development.

I climbed up inside Gallows Gate watchtower and spent an hour walking around the old city wall. It's a 2.5 km hike with spectacular views on one side down into the forested Tauber Valley and on the other into the narrow streets of Rothenburg. Except for the throng of tourists on the streets below the town with its watchtowers and old half-timbered buildings looks much as it did 379 years ago when it was saved from destruction, not by its defensive wall, but by the "meistertrunk" (Master Draught).

Before leaving Rothenburg I joined Betty in the main square and ordered a modest glass of wine. At precisely three in the afternoon the windows of the town clock opened and a reenactment of the meistertrunk was performed by wooden figurines that have been celebrating the legend every hour since the clock was built in 1910. We joined the other patrons of Councilor's Tavern in a silent toast to Mayor Nasch's heroic gulp and headed back to our ship satisfied that the Romantic Road was worthy of its name.