Wir schlängeln uns durch Deutschland: 30 Sep: Brocken and Goslar

One of the day-trips planned from Goslar was to go to the top of the Brocken. We put it off from Tuesday to Thursday in hopes of better weather, and our hopes were realized.

Brocken and Brockenbahn

The Brocken is the highest peak in the Harz mountains, and was made famous by Goethe who, in Dr. Faustus, said that it is on the Brocken that the witches gather for Walpurgis Night.

Walpurgis Night, the night of 30 April/1 May, is when supposedly the witches from all over Germany fly on their broomsticks to meet for a big orgy presided over by the Devil. Since Goethe, the Brocken's peak is where the orgy is supposed to happen. We dunno what actually happens, but just for the record, here's the pile of stones called der teufelskanzel (the Devil's Altar) where it all goes down.

See any blood?

While we were there, a TV crew was filming a documentary on (presumably) this; at least, they were filming a couple of people having an earnest conversation in front of it.

However, the point of going up the Brocken was not the witch stuff, but the way you get there: by riding a narrow-gauge steam railway.

We drove through scenic woodsy roads to Schierke, the last stop before the summit, where we should find der Brockenbahnhof, the Brocken train station. Planning the trip thousands of miles away, we assumed this would be easy: drive into a tiny resort village, spot the station for the popular tourist attraction, park, buy a ticket.

Where's that pesky bahnhof?

Not so much. We finally found what we thought was the right parking lot and followed a tiny sign, and discovered that we had a walk of 0.8km (half a mile) uphill, through the woods.

Tiny sign on the right: "Bahnhof." Marian: "What, up there?"

So we found the station—and discovered that there was in fact a road up to it, and a parking lot, but lacking a sign of any kind (we checked later on return) how were we to know?—and bought return tickets and waited for the train, which arrived with a loud whistle toot, right on time.

Off we chuffed for the 40-minute ride, mostly through a dense conifer forest (like the one where Hansel and Gretel got lost). This is a major winter-sports area and the hills are laced with wide, smooth trails used for cross-country skiing, and of course hiking in summer. Lots of people were out and about, and wherever the train crossed a road or trail, people took pictures and waved.

Everybody loves a steam train.

The summit has a station, a hotel, and a monster communications tower.

Not a rocket ship; a tower covered with antennas.

The Brocken is only 3,400 feet high, actually 400 feet lower than Mt. Diablo in California. However, we are at a much more northerly latitude, so around the summit the trees are stunted and wind-warped and it looks like the tree-line at 9,000 feet in the Sierras. And it was chilly, maybe 3ºC. Still, everybody piled out and started sight-seeing.

The views were impressive.

Click through for a giant panorama.

We took a fast walk around the top, then piled into the restaurant for erbsensuppe mit bockwurst (delicious thick pea soup with a sausage floating in the middle). Then the next train arrived so we ran and caught it for the descent. On the descent, the down train pulls onto a siding to let the up train pass, giving another opportunity for a picture of a steam train under power.

Click through for steamy goodness.

Last Walk in Goslar

We returned along scenic roads through steep-sided, forest-lined valleys to Goslar. Since there was better light than other times, we once again walked downtown to take pictures of this very attractive town.

People enjoying the Marktplatz.

What is now the Hotel Kaiserworth was built as a guild-hall in 1494 (you know, about the time Columbus reached the Americas?) and decorated with statues of emperors.

Leftmost statue is the goddess of abundance.

Apparently the costs of the building became excessive, because there is a notorious addition: underneath the figure of abundance is a man shitting gold coins.