Staufen

One of my favorite things about the Freiburg region is its incredible public transportation system.  Coming from America, where public transportation is an unreliable and pathetic joke almost everywhere, I am floored by this [largely] punctual, clean, efficient, available, and wide-spread system that is actually used by the majority of residents.

Even more fantastic is the partnership that exists among the region’s major transportation players.  With a single cheap monthly ticket, I can ride any bus, streetcar, or regional train within about a 45-mile radius.  The practical upshot of this is that when I decided to get out of town and see a nearby village this morning, all I had to do was look up the timetable, hop on a tram, and find an empty seat on the train.  Within half an hour I was there, without needing to worry about reservations or buying tickets.

So that was how I ended up in Staufen, a wee cheerily-painted town that lies at the feet of the Schwarzwald.  Thanks to a geographical aberration that funnels in warm air and sediments from the Mediterranean, this part of Germany enjoys relatively balmy weather that’s great for growing grapes.  Before the train had even fully stopped at the platform, I was greeted by the sight of an enormous hill draped in vineyards and crowned by a crumbling castle.

I knew next to nothing about Staufen or its layout when I arrived, but that didn’t stop me from immediately barreling off towards the hill and figuring out how to get to the top of it (King-of-the-Hill habits die hard).  Like many no-nonsense paths in Germany, this one charged right up the side of the mound.  I followed row after parallel row of vines dripping with ripening pale green, violet, and rose grapes.   Everything I looked at was worthy of a photograph, but I did my best to just bask in its beauty instead of frantically trying to record every second with my camera.

      

The shattered hull of the former castle lie like a shipwreck at the hill’s peak, lazily keeping one eye on the Schwarzwald and the other on ripening fields nearby.  I can’t even begin to name all the crops that are grown in this section of the world; although corn is grown here and there, I had also caught glimpses of pumpkin patches, plum trees, something that resembled lettuce, and small flower plantations on the train ride from Freiburg.  Farming has much more of a small grassroots feel here; you won’t see the endless monocultures and center pivot plantations that are so common in North America.  I climbed to the very top of the ruin via a very sketchy concrete staircase and got the full panoramic view: the mottled yellow-and-green plains stretching out towards the distant French Vosges mountains to the west, Staufen to the south, and the deep evergreen hills to the east.

       
Schwarzwald window                                                                         A curious dog scoping out the sights

     
Tiny sweet strawberries from the market                                  Broken walls above Staufen

Only after conquering the peak (and passing a bunch of manly men biking uphill towards the castle) did I wander down into Staufen proper.  I took a backroad into town, passing an antique wine-making apparatus along the way that should have given me some inkling as to what I was in for.  After ogling what I could only assume was a wine press, I went to cross the street and was abruptly slapped in the nostrils by the sickly-sweet aroma of overly-ripe fruit.  I quickly found the source:  an open wagon stood in the street, dripping with the mutilated remnants of grape skins and twigs, presumably being hauled away after their precious juicy innards had been extracted to be made into wine.

Liquid gold, not quite ripe
      
Sweet-smelling silage                                                                          Now THAT’S a glass of wine

Much of Staufen was destroyed during the war, but that didn’t stop the village from rebuilding into something undeniably adorable. It’s cozier than Freiburg due to a much smaller population, but it seemed that all its citizens were out enjoying the fermented fruits of Staufen on this warm Saturday afternoon.  Wineries dotted the Hauptstrasse (high street), each touting their awards and unique flavors, and I felt it was my civic duty as a new resident of the region to try out a halbtrocken weisswein (half-dry white).  The bartender filled the glass almost to the brim, and I happily sipped it within half a kilometer of where the grapes had ripened.

All-told, I only spent about three hours in Staufen, but it was a wonderfully peaceful weekend break. Soon I will do a post regarding my actual city, but I’m waiting to get to know it a little better to give you all the best first impression I can.