A traditional song in Germany;s fairest city translates to “I lost my heart in Heidelberg.”
Many a man has lost his heart in this beautiful city. I lost my heart time after time, even lost my virginity, while I was a GI at U. S. Army Intelligence (an oxymoron according to some) in Heidelberg. For two summers in the 1950s, I took advantage of the city being a must-see for American tourists. By the busloads, college students, mostly coeds, stopped for at least an overnight in the land of the Student Prince. We intelligence soldiers would change from fatigues to civvies and visit the favorite haunts of the local university students and the tourists. At Zum Seppls and Roter Ochsen (Red Ox) we partook of the revelry, tipped a few half-liter mugs of Schlossquell, the local bier, and on many an occasion finished the evening by taking some girls for exploratory trips up the hill to the castle courtyard. It was a romantic setting. I won’t tell everything, but it was an experience of some significance in the mind of a young man.
Declared an open city in World War II, Heidelberg escaped Allied bombings. Retreating Germans blew a couple of bridges over the Neckar River, but that was about the extent of war damage. A beautiful city survived while most of Germany lay in ruins.
Before the advent of mass travel, Mark Twain visited Heidelberg. It was 1878 and the prolific Samuel Clemens was working on A Tramp Abroad, his recounting of an extended stay in Europe. He wrote glittering accounts of Heidelberg and the city has been a destination ever since.
Today’s visitors may be put off if they approach the city from the Bahnhof (the main rail station). It is an uglier part of town, but a trip across the strasse to the tourist office will get you a city map and directions to walk down the pedestrian-only Haupstrasse (Main Street) to the medieval Gothic old town. Tiny lanes and thin houses crowd together. It is an explorers’s paradise. Following the tourist map, one can delight in finding such vintage structures as the Hotel Zum Ritter, a 1592 Renaissance palace. It’s the ideal place to enjoy some German cuisine. Take sidetrips down any of the inviting side streets, most barely wide enough to handle one auto. In the same area one can inspect the Kornmarkt, the Church of the Holy Ghost and the many buildings of Heidelberg University, the oldest learning institution in Germany. A walk across the Alte Brucke (Old Bridge) leads to Philosopher’s Walk, a path on the opposite side of the Neckar. It’s a long hike with some healthy climbing, but the views of the old city are worth the effort. This is the vantage point for clicking some postcard-perfect photos of the castle that looms over the city.
The footpath (Bergweg) up to the famous Schloss is the best way to explore the castle. Construction started in 1300. Completion was 400 years later. There are many castles in Germany, especially along the Rhine, but the Heidelberg Schloss is an experience. Sixty-minute guided tours are worth the price. In one cellar is the worlds biggest wine keg. The castle is partly in ruins but enough remains intact to make it a worthwhile visit. And the view looking down to the city and valley is spectacular.
Back in the old town, one should visit the student inns for lunch or dinner. At Seppls and Roter Ochsen, one may be joined by singing college students who enjoy practicing their English. They play drinking games and have a raucous time.
In my Army daze, we took bicycle rides down the Neckar River road to visit small towns. The whole Neckar is fun to explore. I recall renting kayaks for smooth pedaling rides on the river.
A funicular will take you to the top of Konigstuhl Mountain. One summer we rented rooms at the Konigstuhl, a small hotel atop the mountain. It was a nice location and only a funicular ride from town, or a long hike on interesting paths.
Heidelberg has many more inns where Germans go to whoop and holler. It was at Rodensteiner’s where I met a wholesome German lass in the fifties. (MInd you, she wasn’t fifty; it was in the 1950s) She showed me her small apartment which was the least exciting part of our evening together. She also showed me some hand-knit sweaters and inferred quite strongly she would like to marry a GI. This was just ten years after World War II had ended and Germans were desperate to improve their lot. I, however, was happy with my lot and never returned to the little apartment.
How much do I like–make that love–Heidelberg? After serving 18 months in the military there, I have returned five times. I think it is one of the most beautiful cities in the world. It is not massive and monumental as are Paris or Rome, but it has its charm. It’s no wonder they get more than three million visitors a year.
It was in Heidelberg that I collected my first lidded German beer stein. For only ten marks (about $2.50) I got a blue salt-glazed stein with a pewter lid. It was dated 1892. I went on to collect others and to start Stein Collectors International, the world’s biggest organization of serious collectors of drinking vessels. So, you see, Heidelberg affected my life. It can affect you, too.
Go to Heidelberg. You may not lose your heart but you will have a rewarding time.