What time is it? What direction are we going? I’m not certain I know the answers to these questions.
We wake at 4 am today after falling asleep early last night. The beds are firm enough, comfortable, but the European pillows are just a silly shape.
Breakfast is at 7am. Alex smells scrambled eggs and bacon from the corridor and gets excited. That’s the only hot food, the rest are the usual breads, cold cuts and salad. I think I preferred the last hotel’s breakfast spread more, but this is still good.
The sky is dim and grey, the air has a damp chill and most of the shops are closed when we head out to explore Rothenburg again, to walk through some different areas. There are few tourists about, sensible ones would be asleep in bed or drinking a warm beverage.
But I like the peace and quiet. It leaves room to imagine the occupants from hundreds of years ago going about their daily routines in a town not too different from today.
Rothenburg’s castle was destroyed in an earthquake and only the church was rebuilt. The grounds became a garden with beautiful views of the surrounding valley and the stone walls of the town.
The Plonlein and Siebers Tower are the iconic images of Rothenburg. Just beyond them we find some open stairs up to the city wall. Starting on the outer side, we walk the narrow sheltered path to the Roeder Gate. We see the moss covered red tiles of the sharply angled roofs. Someone is drying their washing on a Hills Hoist.
Then we turn around, go back to the start, and take the inner route. The views are even better, a whole different perspective on the historic buildings of Rothenburg, along with so many autumn colours.
We continue on along the wall to the Klingens Tower from where it is a short walk back to the hotel.
My (and my phone’s) directional sense deserts me as I try to navigate us back to the train station. Everything is reversed in the Northern hemisphere. It does my head in. Alex uses his phone to navigate us to a point where it becomes familiar.
It is another rail replacement bus that takes us to Steinach, from where we catch a regional express a short distance to Ansbach. From there it is a ride on a double decker intercity train service. After the past few trips I decide to reserve seats online, but they are worse than the empty seats in the carriage, of which there are quite a few.
Because it is a day ending in “y”, the train is delayed. We sit at Pluderhausen and watch as other regional trains bound for Stuttgart go past as the driver grapples with a door issue. It’s half an hour since we were supposed to have arrived in Stuttgart, by the time we get there it won’t be worth visiting anything. I was hoping to see a model train exhibit opposite the station!
I guess that will be delayed too now.
We make it into industrial Stuttgart an hour late and quickly walk the kilometre or so to the hotel, through a very new, very modern, strangely sterile concrete path towards a shopping centre.
The receptionist is very cheerful, encouraging us to go see the city while it is light. So we head out again, catch the underground one stop back to the main station. After the piece of Rothenburg, Stuttgart is a shock. There are people everywhere and many of them seem rather rough. The level of smoking in Germany is very high and I often feel sick on the streets.
We do make it in time to see Miniaturwelten Stuttgart, a handmade series of n-scale model railway layouts accurately depicting the city. I’ve seen more impressive layouts, but the scale Stuttgart it helps me to orient myself in the real thing.
The pedestrianised Konigstrasse is heaving with people. There seems to be some sort of festival on with stalls and a radio station promotion further down. We turn off towards the Schlossplatz, the historic palace square with its grand buildings and monuments. At least we are seeing some sights.
Alex demands a kebab, B wants the Swiss shop she bought chocolate from in Salzburg. I lead them to both, on a food street covered with fairy lights. There they wait ages for a kebab, a first meal since breakfast. It is almost dinner time.
Germany has many Turkish immigrants. In fact, the people walking past me as I wait outside come have origins from many nations, just like back in Australia, though the mix may be a little different.
Not yet satisfied, they want to go back to the shopping centre adjacent to our hotel. We catch the underground back. The tunnels feel a bit dodgy and there are no ticket gates. The system appears to rely on personal adherence to the law, so far as I can tell.
The MILANEO shopping centre is big and modern and also very busy with shoppers on a Saturday evening. We somehow find a table in the uninspiring food court. I order a bad pizza (pineapple is an option!) and the others another kebab each. They are defeated by the chilli sauce in them.
We visit an Aldi supermarket to buy some chocolate and dairy products. It is not too different from home. Then it’s back to our adjoining apartments to use the washing machines so we have enough clothes for the rest of the trip.
As we walk up towards our hotel we are passed by a crowd of children and their parents and performers, even a horse, dressed in lights. The parents are singing. It must be a festival event, a nice way to end the evening.
