The Romantic Road II - Weikersheim, Germany (Oct 26, 2007)
The quiet riverside town of Weikersheim enticed us to explore its old romantic streets just as the 4 o'clock sun began to hide away. Alongside the icy dusk that was settling in the town we wandered the cobblestone streets which were, at best, deserted. The sound of our footsteps were the noisiest thing around…oh, except for that fountain with the bronze statue of a happy Bavarian and his jug of ale, whose light tinkle of water almost seemed boisterous in the Weikersheim stillness.
There was no one around to ask for directions, so we followed the walkway upwards, where, as we had suspected, the streets converged in the 18th century marketplatz or main square. Usually the busiest part of any German town, no matter how small, this particular square was as good as dead. Flanked by late Renaissance citadel and a town church with a pointy tower and clock, the square gives way to the Schloss Weikersheim.
 Crossing its majestic iron wrought gates, we could already tell the castle had closed long ago. Nonetheless it didn’t hurt to try and figure out a way in, seeing as my anarchist alter-ego was on a standstill. We approached the second pair of gates which were as tightly closed as the gates of heaven. But from behind us I heard footsteps approaching and turned to see a middle aged man with his young female companion, both clearly tourist and clearly looking for a way in. We looked at each other seeking comfort in the misfortune of our tardiness, and thinking I was German, he mumbled something in his native language I couldn’t even try to pronounce, even if I were hawking and coughing. “Yes” I answered while I politely smiled and walked away.
Well at least we had the tiny patch of rose gardens on the riverbank that were left open to us latecomers. Rosebushes and statues in noble poses lined the thin strip of the River Tauber which coiled around this part of the castle. Most of the roses had died away, seeing as it’s autumn and all, but a few tiny buds of red and pink still remained, like little dying beacons of the gone season in this hazy Bavarian night.
We were alone in this small town. It was dark and cold, and the lonely street lamps illuminated our white breaths as we walked by. We walked behind the church and admired a little dried-out tree whose bright red berries were still clinging on to the feeble branches, as if waiting for the wind or some bird to finally fly them out. A small chubby sparrow sat on one of the twigs and looked around, his background the stained glass window of the small Romanesque church. He darted off as I quietly grabbed my camera to snap the image, but I guess it’ll have to be one of those that remain just in my memory.
Bavarian with his ale, Autumn colors by a river
Cherubs - Weikersheim, Germany
Thousands of burnt leaves cushioned the streets and our feet ruffled them as we passed by. The little fairytale houses and inns began to show warm glows of light from inside; a nice reminder that we weren't as alone as we thought. Ed and I walked hugging each other trying to keep each other warm, and as we crossed a tiny stone bridge illuminated by a hanging lantern, I couldn’t help but thinking how romantic this really was.
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