Germany Day 9

Germany Day Nine

We had to drive through the castle gates to enter the city. Stone walls encase the whole thing. I almost hit every single stone upon entering. Then, I actively avoided pedestrians. Rothenburg is the only city in Germany with its original, medieval fortifications still standing. The street widths aren’t regulated.

The Historik Hotel Gotisches Haus Garni looked like it was built in the 1100s. Since we were in Germany and inside medieval castle walls, I could guess that this hotel was built in the 1100s. The concierge handed us what I can only describe as— not a key—and said it was the key to our room. Whatever this small-planet-sized object is, it was so heavy it affected my posture. While keeping my wife away from the gravitational field, he asked if we were in town for the wine festival. We knew nothing about a wine festival.

I said, "We are now." Things just got interesting.

We got our shopping done since this was our last stop. I wanted to see how long I could get away with buying useless nonsense. I'll tell you what— I got pretty far. My wife countered by buying chocolate at Lindt. The ladies in the store were walking around with free samples. I just lollygagged behind them and accepted whatever they gave out. We loaded up on these. We got two of each flavor, and there were lots of flavors. Chocolate balls filled with different liquids, if I wasn't clear on that. Some of them were even alcoholic.

We swung by a cute place for lunch and grabbed some brews— and food, I guess. The wife got the best salad option she could find, and I got wild hare. We moved on from here and went straight for the medieval wall I couldn't stop mentioning. We walked the length of it and ran into some Australians who let us pass.

The one guy said to his friend, "Careful, mate. That big bloke might throw you off the wall."

I can hear you. I'm dieting—kind of. Anyway, I didn't know what I did to imply such aggression, but that sentence was super Australian. We ended up giving them directions. These were my favorite Australians on the trip.

Back in our room, there was no time for a nap. There was wine to drink. The Rothenburg Wine Festival is held every August at Grunen Markt and Kirchplatz in Medieval Old City and features Franconian wines. This festival remembers when General Von Tilly had 60,000 troops camped around the city. He offered to march them all away if a citizen could chug a large jug of wine. Mayor Nusch stepped up to the challenge and saved the city. Let's party with Mayor Nusch's vibes!

There were two pour options: .1L for a sample, and .2L for a glass. Naturally, I went for the glasses. My wife, in full force, screamed from the table, “Sample, sample, get samples.” I told her I couldn’t hear her, of course, and joined her at the end of a mostly empty table to plot our next move. After I finished my wine in thirty seconds, a woman asked about my Pittsburgh Penguins shirt. They were from Vancouver, so I had to explain to my wife that it didn’t matter that we beat Ottawa in the playoffs. Both teams are Canadian.

Round two came—full pours again. Finally, we sat down with lamb burgers and a cheese plate. Hands down, one of the best sentences to ever happen to me.

A couple climbed over us to sit on the inner side of our table, which caught me off guard since I’d already seen them settled at a different table. Apparently, they wanted to sit by us—new friends! A German-speaking couple then asked if they could join us since seating was scarce—desperation must’ve been setting in. They switched to English after my muffled German attempt, and we started chatting. Turns out, they weren’t even German—they were Dutch! Meanwhile, the couple who climbed over us was English.

I mentioned the honeymoon and how I was still getting used to wearing my wedding band. The English gentleman, with complete certainty, said, “You never get used to it.”

The English couple was our age, while the Dutch couple was in their 60s. We all started talking and having fun, but we had to pace ourselves—we had tickets to The Night Watchmen's Tour at midnight. These people were great, but I wanted to see some ghosts! I brought up the Canadian sisters from earlier, and when I mentioned hockey, the English couple had no idea what it was, and the Dutch couple only knew field hockey.

I got up for our next round and retold my encounter with the French giant and the difference between yards and meters. The Dutch husband, who was a solid 2 meters tall, chimed in, “The Dutch are the longest people in the world.” Did I hear that right?

The Dutch woman wasn’t fluent in English but kept up remarkably well. When she got stuck on a word, it turned into a game of charades. I started shouting guesses like I was on a game show. Other people joined in, but I was clearly having the most fun. Turns out, the Dutch couple was on a 300-mile bike ride and had stopped by for the festival. 300 miles! In their 60s! #relationshipgoals

I returned with a sample for my wife—the third time’s the charm. Mine was a full-size pour, and I also grabbed a baguette. Someone was selling them for 1 euro, and I knew I’d be back—multiple times. I bumped into the Canadian sisters again, and they still had questions. I invited them over anyway. The eight of us from four different countries spoke one language for the next three hours, and I couldn’t believe how great the experience was—truly once in a lifetime. It was so fun that we ended up missing our late-night appointment with medieval ghosts.

Until I get dragged somewhere else,

A Lazy Husband.