Heading to a Wedding

TRAVEL | GERMANY

Snapshots from a weekend trip to the ancient town of Freudenberg in Germany

I enjoy travel, and some years back we took a weekend family trip to Freudenberg in Germany to attend a friend’s wedding. Here are a few experiences from that trip.

The Silent Streets of Freudenberg

The old fashioned automobile — there’s no other word for it — didn’t seem out of place on the cobblestoned streets of the small German town we were visiting. The distinctive putt-putt sound of the early horseless carriage with its high back wheels and glossy cream body shattered the silence. Where on earth was everybody?

OK, it was Sunday, but even on Friday and Saturday, the town had seemed deserted. Maybe the rain was keeping everyone inside. Not me, though. I didn’t want to waste the chance to wander through a 450-year-old town full of houses with the distinctive Fachwerk (wooden strips on the outside).

The streets were steep and narrow, leading down to the marketplace, the fast moving river and the centre, which featured a few small luxury shops selling Chanel cosmetics and very expensive shoes. Even though these were modern, they blended right in. This was no doubt deliberate.

Outside one shop was a ride-on toy you could start up with a coin. This was no Bob the Builder or other TV show character. Instead, it was a bright yellow donkey — and it only cost 10 cents, a tenth of what it would have cost back in the UK.

As we wandered through the town, a large ice cream caught our eye. Germany is justly famed for its Eiskafees (ice cream parlours) and the ice cream treats were indeed wondrous — cherry, strawberry, mango, tiramisu — real Italian ice cream with not a preservative in sight. The flavours exploded into my mouth. I’d definitely be back for more.

The half hour walk round the town culminated in a trip to the summit for a picturesque view. Back on the ground, we checked out the children’s play area. Swings, wide slides and an intricate system of buckets and chains for endless loading and emptying of sand and stones. My three-year-old daughter loved it — and the dirt soon became the contents of her ice cream shop. Hmm; I wonder where she got that idea.

Ancient and Modern — Exploring the Hotel

Our hotel was a revelation. The Zur Alstadt hotel was in the heart of the old town, right opposite the plaque explaining the waves of settlement into the town. Although the outside of the building blended right in, the inside was ultra modern. There was a bar on the left, a cake and pastry cafe on the right and reception straight ahead.

Check-in was efficient and they’d put a cot in the room for our daughter. (This was a translation error. We’d asked for a child’s bed, but ‘kinderbett’ in German is a cot, so that’s what we’d got.) At three years old, she was already sleeping in a bed at home, so I thought she might rebel, but she loved the bright colors, and once we’d arranged it so she could climb out, she was happy.

Our room was large — we could have swung ten cats in there if we’d wanted to — and the shower was roomy and powerful. So far, I was very impressed. When my friend had told me her uncle had a hotel, I was picturing bed and breakfast, not near luxury. The hotel had a sauna on site, which we didn’t take advantage of. However, it was good to know it was there.

The breakfast room was huge, with angled mirrors set off from the ceiling. More impressive was the spread: two kinds of juice, several kinds of bread, cold meats, cereal, cheese, eggs and some of the best cappuccino I’ve tasted in a while. I was in heaven! (I’ve actually visited Germany several times, and all my hosts have known how to lay on a feast, so I wasn’t surprised.)

The culinary delights continued over the weekend, with delicious meals of salmon, potatoes and lots more. And the beer was good, too. Should I ever find myself back in Freudenberg, that hotel is on my list.

A Rainy Day for the Main Event

It rained all day on the wedding day. Clearly, those were showers of blessing, but what would happen to our wedding finery? Luckily, there was a coach to take us to the church so we avoided getting drenched. (What are a few sprinkles between friends?) We got in, sat down and had a look around the church. I always find churches such interesting buildings, despite my views on organized religion.

The bride looked beautiful in a classic, off-white flapper number. She was carrying bread rolls (maybe a symbol of prosperity and fertility? I never got to ask). The groom was immaculately turned out. The service was led by a female Protestant vicar and a male Catholic priest. We tried to look as though we knew what was going on, but it wasn’t always easy.

Of the three of us, I was the only one who spoke some German, and my proficiency was limited to asking directions and ordering food. Basically, we couldn’t understand a word, but I tried to sing along with the hymns and follow the readings. One nice touch is that all the cousins took it in turn to read verses from the Bible. And there was a beautiful flute solo from another talented cousin.

Our daughter was supposed to be a flower girl, and it was soon time for her to scatter the flowers in front of the bride. The trouble was, she refused to do it. She didn’t want to waste them by throwing them away. Instead, she wanted to save the flowers for Auntie K, the bride. Luckily, there was a backup plan in the shape of an older cousin who did her duty and spread the flowers. Then we all tramped soggily around the corner to the champagne reception.

The final touch on the wedding day took place during a brief break in the weather. Everyone went outside and let off some red balloons — hundreds of them, it seemed — with good wishes for the newly married couple tied to the strings. It was very moving. Then it was back inside to dance the night away, before heading back to the UK the following day.

There was a lot to love about that German weekend. We felt a part of the family (as I write today, the bride and I have been friends for more than 20 years) and we enjoyed celebrating a wedding in a different culture. That’s one of the best things about travel.

© Sharon Hurley Hall

Sharon Hurley Hall is an anti-racism writer, a professional B2B writer and blogger, and co-host of The Introvert Sisters podcast. This is an updated composite version of a story originally published on Sharon’s Writing Lab.