Rothenburg ob der Tauber is the Germany of your dreams

When Disney's designers return to a place for inspiration repeatedly for more than 80 years, it deserves the adjectives "fairy tale". So it is with Rothenburg ob der Tauber, model for Geppetto's village in Pinocchio (1940) and Belle's village in the 2017 live action version of Beauty and the Beast. It makes no difference that the wooden puppet's tale comes from Tuscany, and that Belle is supposed to live in France. Rothenburg is what fairy-tale villages are supposed to look like. You expect the seven dwarves to go high ho-ing around a corner, off to at work any minute. And while it's not a direct copy, the German pavilion at Epcot is a hotch-potch of architectural elements lifted from this Franconian town. 

It was also the village that the childcatcher stalked in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, and has shown up in more than 30 other films. It’s seared into your imagination even if you haven't been there. No wonder this is the most famous town on the 220-mile stretch known as the Romantic Road; Rothenburg is the pattern from which a thousand Germanic fantasies have been cut. (The Nazis felt the same way, but Germans and visitors alike have agreed to overlook that darker history; architecture can’t help what people do with it.)

It was the first place on our holidays where the pandemic felt well and truly over; by 11am every street was packed and queues spilled from popular establishments. Rothenburg teeters perilously close to being one of those places, like Versailles or Mont Saint-Michel, where crowds make the experience so miserable it’s not worth going. So a good reason to bother with a guided tour here is to be with people who can work around the traffic flow.

We started from Karlstadt at 8:15. Early for a holiday, to be sure, but it meant we were rolling into Rothenburg around 9:30, well before things got too crowded. We were also treated to a gorgeous drive along a stretch of the Romantic Road with deep valleys, winding streams, verdant pastureland and picture-postcard half-timbered hamlets. It would have been easy to drive yourself, but it was nice to be a passenger and just take it all in.

Our early arrival meant our walking tour was relatively unencumbered by crowds, people only starting to jostle as we finished and rolled into time on our own. The included lunch later was at a restaurant within a hotel. Whether it had been booked exclusively for us or the hotel just doesn’t get much lunch traffic I don’t know, but finding someplace to sit down for a leisurely lunch without local knowledge would probably have needed queuing.

The tour was also pleasingly efficient in its route. The bus dropped us off in the car park near the Klingentor, quite literally at the top of things as the whole place cascades down a hill. This upper bit of the old town has fewer shops and tourist attractions, so is much quieter while still being picturesque. There’s also a large and spotlessly clean public toilet just inside the walls, at the edge of the Schrannenplatz, always a useful thing to know about. Our explorations took us ever downward, gently, and across town, until we finally rejoined the bus at a car park near the Spitaltor, on the far side of the historic district from where we entered.

And, of course, going with a local guide gives you the inside scoop on history, local attractions and culture. Most of that can be found in books or audio guides, of course, but they don't have the charm of human interaction.

Was Rothenburg worthy of its reputation? Absolutely. It is heart-stoppingly beautiful. Like Bruges and Venice, Rothenburg was a much bigger deal in the past than it is today. In the high Middle Ages it had a population four times its current one and was one of the richest and largest cities in the Holy Roman Empire. A favourite of royals, a hub of trade and a popular home of religious orders, it was packed with impressive churches, gorgeous mansions, showy towers and attractive shops. Then came the Thirty Years’ War.

The town's most enduring story from that time is a cheerful one that explains the clock on the market square. A Protestant leader captured the town and threatened to burn it down and kill all within. The Catholic councilmen tried to get him drunk so he'd go on his way. He refused, saying he would back off from his threats only if someone could drink all the wine he'd been offered ... 3 1/4 litres ... in one go. The mayor downed the prodigious quantity in one, the general left, and both are now automatons facing each other across the clock, with the mayor raising his oversized stein on the hour.

The reality of the war was far worse, bringing famine, conflict and the disruption of trade routes. Toward the end came plague. Rothenburg never recovered, a much reduced and much less affluent population maintaining what was there but never adding anything. It was the Romantic artists of the 19th century who "re-discovered" the place and it's been on tourist maps ever since. The money that comes with visitors has allowed all of those churches, towers, mansions and shops to be in a robust state of preservation, decked out in cheery pastels and enlivened by highly-decorative half-timbering. And yet the modern stores and housing ringing the historic centre, and signs for civic government, doctors and schools within the walls suggest this isn't just a tourist venue but still a living town.

There's far more for a tourist to do here than a few hours of free time can conquer. Many will head for the town walls, which completely circle the old town and are amongst just a few complete circuits left in Germany. The views must be spectacular throughout; the bit we ventured onto above the river Tauber was glorious. We skipped the Criminal Museum with its collection of torture instruments. Funny how such things intrigued me as a child but, as I've grown up and appreciated the reality of the world, I now find distasteful. Being history buffs, we naturally headed instead to the Imperial City Museum. It's a charmingly home spun affair, with a crowded jumble of artifacts and mannequins that look like they were liberated from store windows in the late 1960s before donning their 17th century costume, but we enjoyed it. There's a bit of everything, from weapons to furniture to historic documents to art and decorative objects, but the main focus is on the Thirty Years' War, with costumed figures set up to portray different scenes from history.

Another highlight is the headquarters location of the Käthe Wohlfahrt Christmas retail empire in two buildings facing each other over the road. There is no better Christmas shop in the world, a truth I understood the moment I stepped into the UK branch in York. That wonderland was just a teaser for the enormous sprawl in their home town. I have never seen more ornaments, nativity sets, nutcrackers and the like in one place in my life. The fact that I raced through, and bought nothing, is only due to a husband at my shoulder with a raised eyebrow and an aversion to excess that leaves a third of my existing Christmas decorations in their boxes in the garage.

Wohlfahrt is not alone. This is a town full of galleries, boutiques and quirky retail offerings. There's even a sprawling shop dedicated to historic cosplay. If you fancy your own hauberk and chain mail, this is the town for it.

One of the most famous views in a place packed with instagrammable scenes is at the Plönlein, a place where the cobbled street divides on either side of a mustard yellow, half-timbered cottage (Belle's, in Beauty and the Beast), and both lanes, lined with interesting architecture, lead off to picturesque city gates. The Glocke Winery and Hotel is a bright blue building whose location across from the street-splitting cottage must give it as many social media appearances per year as a Kardashian. This is where we had our lunch, in a cozy dining room looking over the Plönlein. The room was decorated with local memorabilia and had particularly interesting chandeliers with rearing lions and inscribed metal tags I wish I would have asked about.

Our meal of soup, followed by sausages, cabbage and potatoes, ended with strudel and was accompanied by local wine. The focus was supposed to be on Franconian food, and on wine after days in beer country. Here’s my only complaint of the day: the epicurean in me could have used some explanation of the meal before us. What were the differentiating qualities of the wine? What makes Franconian food distinct from other German regions? I was too busy talking to my fellow travellers to ask, and the waiting staff didn’t volunteer. I suppose it gives me a reason to return.

And I would like to return to Rothenburg. As an independent traveller I’d happily settle into the Glocke hotel, or better yet check out something like the Gasthaus Schranne in the much quieter area where we entered town. I’d spend my early mornings and evenings in town, and the heart of the day in a car exploring smaller and lesser known areas of the Romantic Road in either direction. Rothenburg would be the perfect location for a week-long water colouring or drawing course, so I could improve on this effort:

As an introduction to the town, however, our guided excursion within our Viking Cruise was an excellent investment.