Trier is just as good the second time 'round

When last Ferrara's View visited Trier, it was a cold and gloomy winter weekend enlightened by the city's fantastic Christmas market. (See entry for 2/12/07). It was the highlight of that first trip to Luxembourg and, with apologies to the Grand Duke and the fine people of his Duchy, this charming German town remains my top sightseeing pick in the area.

Trier's main claim to fame is its very long history, particularly as a prosperous Roman town and provincial capital in the late empire. There's a wealth of Roman ruins here, a couple of them on par with anything you can see in Italy. (If you're planning to visit a few, opt for the combined ticket.) A stroll of a couple of miles takes you around the biggest sites.

The blockbuster is the Porta Negra, one of the most intact and monumental Roman city gates left in the world. Certainly the best I've ever seen. And I've seen a lot of Roman ruins.

Last winter I'd only circled the outside; this visit we took the time to clamber through it. An interior exploration highlights just how big the structure is. You wander through a substantial hall and climb about three stories of stairs before coming out onto the arched, open galleries above the gate. There are three levels of these, all with great views over the city. The Porta Negra had been turned into a church in the Middle Ages, you can still see the incongruous carvings of saints and baroque garlands in between the austere Romanesque columns. Thankfully, some clever locals in the 19th century realised that a Roman gate was far more interesting, and a more unique draw to their city, than yet another German baroque church. So they ripped out the Christian additions and restored the gate, as best they could, to its original state.

Equally impressive, and intact, is Constantine's basilica. Basilicas were massive halls, initially created by the Romans as a centre for administrative and judicial proceedings, then adopted by Christians as a model for churches. Thus there are usually just two options for seeing a basilica these days: massive but incomplete walls in ruins, or a Roman skeleton that's been encrusted with centuries of religious decoration. Though the basilica in Trier is used as a church, it's escaped the encrustations, and stands as a pure, if stripped down, example of what the basilica would have looked like in its profane days. There's a display along one wall that provides the history of the building and offers a view of what it would have looked like in the 4th century. Simple yet monumental, I love this building.

A stroll through some pleasant but unexceptional Baroque gardens brings you from the basilica to the Roman baths. This site could use a bit more interpretation for those unfamiliar with what they're viewing. There are a few substantial walls standing but the site is mostly hints of walls and foundations. About a half mile beyond this, up a steep hill that marks this edge of the Moselle river valley and sports vineyards at its top, is the arena. Again, some imagination is required here, as there are no impressive stoneworks. The wall around the arena is intact, but the rows of seats are now earthworks. You can clamber beneath the arena to see the storage and production areas. This is wonderfully creepy and dank, with wooden walkways laid over flooded areas. They lay on gladiatorial contests here for the kids on summer weekends, which would be worth checking out.

Another echo of Rome is the way Trier's antiquities sit amongst a wealth of baroque buildings. One particularly amusing example is the pink and white elector's palace, an edifice that looks more like it was piped from icing sugar than built with bricks and mortar. Originally the archbishop's palace, it was built next to the basilica. The mix is so odd, it's as if the two buildings were floating at sea and rammed into each other. The palace is now a government building but is open on occasion. For a euro it's probably worth going inside to see the large courtyard reflecting the many centuries of building and the outrageously over the top main staircase, awash with fat putti gamboling in a pink and blue heaven. Anyone familiar with "Precious Moments" figurines from the States will wonder if their creator was the reincarnation of the man who did this room. (I thought my resolutely male traveling companion was going to break into hives if we didn't clear out quickly.)

We returned to the Cathedral, which I'd visited briefly in the winter. This time flooded with light, it was exposed as an even more spectacular building, with layers of decoration spanning several hundred years. The woodwork in the choir alcove at the back of the building is worth taking some time to study. Not to be missed is a trip up to the lofty altar, where a separate chapel holds a rock crystal casket the size of a tomb holding ... they say ... the robe Christ wore on his walk to execution. (Or, as the man dubbed it, "God's tee shirt".) This relic only gets an airing every few decades. It left me thinking that, in both relics and wine, German marketeers are just not rising to the challenge. Surely this should be just as famous as the Shroud of Turin? Whether or not you believe in such things, it's fascinating to see the effort and art that went into preserving it.

There are other churches, Marx's birthplace and some museums to see. But after ticking off the main sights, my recommendation is simply to stroll around and take in the architecture, much of which is of the storybook Germanic type that always seems to illustrate fairy tales. The main square is particularly pleasant with its romantic architecture, ornate fountain and sprinkling of market stalls. We ate lunch there, outside in the sunshine, complementing the atmosphere with sausage, sauerkraut and mustard and watching the world go by. Another fine day.