2 June 2011 / leggypeggy

Beautiful Bacharach

From Mainz, we took a day trip to tiny Bacharach, population less than 3000. The guidebooks really are right — Bacharach is one of the Rhine’s prettiest villages. On top of that, it’s famed for its vineyards and wine trade. Pity that I didn’t try any. 😦

The village is surrounded by a fairly well preserved wall, filled with charming half-timbered houses and overlooked by the impressive Burg Stahleck. This 12th century castle/burg has been the local youth hostel since 1925. It takes about 15 minutes to reach it by walking up a near-vertical path.

Entry to the youth hostel, Burg Stahleck.

We stopped in the tourist office to get directions to this main path and were quite amused by the brusqueness of the woman holding court there. She was more than pleasant to us — like her, we are people of a ‘certain’ age and so we knew how to jolly her along. But she took no nonsense from the young Canadian woman in front of us who made the mistake of asking, more or less, the same question twice. I understood the nuance in her second inquiry, but that aspect of English was lost on the tourism adviser. The Canadian got a gruff, ‘I just told you that,’ followed by a stern harumpf.

Ruins of the Wernerkapelle (Werner Chapel) in Bacharach, Germany

About 100 steps up the hill to the hostel, we passed the filagree ruins of the Gothic Wernerkapelle. This little chapel is a symbol of Bacharach. It was supposedly built to honour a young boy, Werner, whose abused and slain body was found in Bacharach. There was a lot of finger-pointing at the time, but historical researchers have disproved the legend surrounding the tale, stripped Werner of his status as a saint and undone the makings of a good Ellis Peters crime novel. The chapel, begun in 1294, took 140 years to complete — perhaps because everything had to be carried uphill but really because it was financed completely by donations. It was destroyed in 1689 during the Palatine War of Succession.

When you arrive at the top of the hill, it’s surprising to notice a wheelchair ramp that takes you up to the hostel’s reception office. How in the world could anyone in a wheelchair make it to the top? Obviously, it’s less of a mystery when you realise you can also drive to the castle.

We skipped the cake and coffee on offer at the top, and followed a side-track down to the eastern edge of the village. This gave us great views of the vineyards on the opposite hill.

Crop spraying in the German vineyards.

Once we reached the bottom, we scaled some of that opposite hill to watch a vintner spraying his crop. His ride-on machine was surely a 4WD, as it putt-putted happily up and down the ultra steep slope. Don’t think I could ride it. In fact, I told Poor John that I wouldn’t be buying such a piece of equipment unless the salesman demonstrated it first — repeatedly.

We took lunch in a picturesque little pub on the main street. It’s featured in a few guidebooks, so was suitably crowded. I’ll insert the name and url here when I re-find the postcard. The woman who served us — the owner I assume — has covered the interior walls with her paintings of horses. The apple strudel was laid out too, and I’m sure few could resist the temptation. We did — only because we ate outside and didn’t notice it until paying the bill.

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