Published in GQ Cars South Africa December 2006
Great Drive
Back to the Roots
Franconia is considered to be Germany’s Tuscanny. Wonderful wines, ancient buildings, cobblestoned streets and narrow roads with lots of curves - Dieter Losskarn enjoyed it all in a beaten up and rusty Volkswagen beetle 30 years ago. Now he has returned to his automotive roots in a brand-new Porsche.
Words Dieter Losskarn; Images Gudrun Muschalla & Dieter Losskarn
What do you usually associate with sand, palm trees, frozen daiquiris, fast convertibles and sparsely clad girls in beach chairs? Miami Vice? The Caribbean? The Seychelles? Well, not quite, we are actually in the middle of Germany. Surprisingly in one of the more traditional and conservative parts of Northern Bavaria. Würzburg, one of the major Franconian cities, is famous for its many ornate churches and historic buildings. But if you take 20 truckloads of sand, dump them on a medieval cobblestoned street next to the river, put up a couple of palm trees and beach chairs, erect wooden decks, sell exotic drinks, beer and soft drinks, add an open braai to keep the stomachs happy, and spread the smell of grilled meats and bratwurst and you can enjoy the ultimate beach feeling where you least expect it.
The concept is a huge success, several German cities have followed suit and the rental prices for flats close to a Stadtstrand (= city beach) are soaring. In order to get the hip and trendy ambience across, beach-owner Jochen’s voluptuous wife Isabella is posing in high heels and a silver-black top. Next time it will hopefully be a bikini. Amazingly, the water quality of the river Main has improved dramatically in the last couple of years. One can even see to the bottom again. Not just a decade ago it was a rather smelly toxic liquid gurgling by. By 2007 the river is believed to have reached drinking water quality again. That’s why Jochen has ordered some pontons for the next season, so that his guests will be able to enjoy a safe and refreshing dip without the danger of getting caught in the propellers of the powerful diesel barges which are still moved up and down the river.
One of them is permanently docked at the quay and has been turned into an arts and craft centre. Two huge giraffe silhouettes are sticking out of it. But Würzburg can become even more African. Every year in May, bush drums reverberate through the ancient walls of the city. The Africa Festival, personally endorsed by Nelson Mandela, is the largest and most famous African culture festival in Europe. Thousands of visitors come every year to enjoy traditional and modern African music, arts and crafts, a market and many special events. African super stars like Angelique Kidjo, Miriam Makeba and Salif Keita have already performed in Würzburg.
Another surprise is waiting for me when I arrive at the historic Hotel Rebstock. Their courtesy car is a silver Porsche Cayenne, which results in a little Zuffenhausen family reunion in front of the main entrance, when I pull in with my slate-grey 911 Carrera 4 Cabriolet. So whoever arrives in a Porsche won’t have to suffer from withdrawal symptoms and won’t be tempted to use his own wheels to visit one of the many traditional wine taverns in the vicinity, either. The friendly driver will chauffeur you to your destination in style and you can ruthlessly sample the fantastic local Franconian wines without regret. If you tell your driver to go to the „Stachel“ he immediately knows that you are a connoisseur. The ancient building with one of the most beautiful inner courtyards in Germany is also one of the oldest taverns in the country. It was first mentioned in chronicles in 1413. During the peasant wars black-clad rural freedom fighters met here to plot attacks on their blue-blooded lords. Hence the name „Stachel“, which refers to the popular medieval weapon „Morgenstern“, which is basically a wooden stick, with an iron chain holding a heavy iron ball with a couple of spikes (= Stachel). Swung the right way, it could knock a much better equipped armoured knight out of the saddle and crush his helmet like a tin can.
Since then the martial symbol is hanging above the entrance door. In contrast the atmosphere inside the cobblestoned courtyard, flanked by massive ancient stone walls, is peaceful and serene. In the evenings, while sipping excellent wines served by the glass as Schoppen (= 250 ml), Achtele (= 125 ml) or in the characteristic Franconian trademark bottle Bocksbeutel (= 750 ml), you can actually breathe history. In line with the ribald local humour the bulbous green glass container is named after the similiarly shaped scrotum (beutel) of a ram (bock). And the food is substantial as well. Various kinds of sausages and lots of meat.
The mecca for sausage enthusiasts is located several kilometers out of town, in a small fortified village called Sulzfeld. To get there, you have to leave some narrow roads with lots of curves behund you. Here I realize that four-wheel drive and advanced PSM have further improved the legendary road holding of the Carrera. And even when the car is not moving it looks impressively power- and beautiful. With the „4“ in the name the car’s body grew 44 mm wider than the rear-wheel-drive models, with the addition of wider rear tyres.
Decades ago I used to battle those roads in an old beetle. This time around I am flying by in an open Porsche. Considerably better equipped than in the 70s and with about ten times the power I am roaring through the curves. On my right, the river „Main“ is slowly flowing the lovely landscape of rolling green hills, covered with vineyards and drawing a perfect triangle into the geomorphology. No wonder they call it Germany’s Tuscanny. With the one tiny difference that in Italy your staple diet consists of pasta, whereas here you are in the heart of sausage country.
Driving into the village of Sulzfeld through one of several wooden gates in the mighty city wall, I once again mentally compliment Porsche’s sound engineers on an excellent auditory job. What the narrow red sandstone walls reflect back to my ears is pure pleasure. Something I want to grant and share with other mortals. Therefore I decide to drive through the village several times before I park the car in front of the Michelskeller restaurant. I am confused about the musical taste of the patrons, as nobody applauds me when I enter the outdoor dining area. A few tables and chairs have been arranged under a shady oak tree. Sulzfeld is home to the Meterbratwurst (meter sausage), which celebrated its 50th birthday a couple of years ago. According to locals, in 1953 a bunch of thirsty and hungry villagers were having a ball. The mood was excellent, the wine was perfect, the grilled sausages and the sauerkraut with fresh German dark bread were just delicious. The comment of a guest, „Die Wurscht könnt ich meterweis ess“ (Franconian dialect, meaning: "I could really eat meters of this sausage"), caused the innkeeper to take action. Thirty minutes later he returned from his butchery, carrying a one meter long sausage creation. After throwing it in a pan and frying it golden-brown, the culinary legend was born.
But don’t worry, for body conscious guests the Meterbratwurst comes in a light version as well, where only 50 fatty, but very tasty centimeters are spiralling across your plate. By the way, if you manage to break the current meter sausage eating record you not only enter the local hall of fame, but your entire meal will be on the house. So what is the record? Probably two, three meters? Wrong, 5.6 meters to be exact. And it wasn’t a big, huge, boerewors-proof Afrikaner tourist from Bloemfontein who established it, but a rather thin and lean local guy.
Franconian wines as well as beer go rather well with it. We are in a transitional area, where wine is definitely top, but the locally brewed beer can’t hide its Bavarian roots. All over Bavaria, many little villages have their own brewery and their tasty and refreshing draught beverage is sold in every pub in the vicinity.
And there is even more to enjoy. If you happen to travel Franconia in September and October you can sample another speciality that is unfortunately not available in the South African winelands: Federweisser, new wine. Slightly fermented grape juice, locally – nomen est omen - known as Bremser (literally for brakeman), ranging from almost clear to naturally cloudy, which tastes fantastic, more like a particularly lekker juice. But beware, after two or three glasses, getting up won’t be that easy anymore, it definitely activates some sort of brake power in your system. Bratwurst goes very well with it, but a more typical dish accompanying Federweisser would be onion tart with bacon.
I am staying away from alcoholic beverages for the time being, knowing that a chauffeured Cayenne is waiting for me at the hotel. Streets, roads and the ferry rides across the river are very narrow affairs and preferably accomplished in a sober state. The ferry between Nordheim and Escherndorf is apparently quite busy on Sundays. Some Nordheim villagers were obviously so impressed with the Stadtbad in Würzburg, that they dumped some sand in a meadow close to the river banks and put up a couple of wicker beach chairs with hoods. It is an unusally beautiful and warm late summer day and I opt for the mobile Italian ice cream bus. It turns out that the iceman’s cousin is living in Sea Point – small world.
A discreet sound emerging from the cockpit reminds me that my tank is running low. A quick calculation reveals a consumption of about 14 liters/100 km. Not bad, considering that I enjoyed the German autobahn, world-famous for its absence of any speed limits whatsoever, on my way up. This gave me and my Porsche the opportunity to reach speeds of 260 km/h on several occasions. I roll into the next petrol station, switch off the engine and listen to James Blunt’s latest soothing creation – and nothing happens. Where is everybody? A mental molo kunjani is harshly confronted with reality. Yeah, I remember, despite paying about twice as much for propellant compared to South Africa everything here in good old Germany is do-it-yourself. I fiddle around with the hose like an idiot, spilling part of the precious liquid over the car. The guy behind the cashier, seeing the Porsche and the Stuttgart registration plates, obviously thinks I am either mentally impaired or intoxicated with Bremser. After finally managing to fill up the tank, I have yet another obstacle to master. A mass grave of smashed insects on the windscreen has to be removed, which is quite a job. I promise from now on I am going to be more than happy to tip generously whenever I fill up in SA again. One more advice on a related subject. Don’t expect anybody to pack your groceries into bags in a supermarket let alone to wish you a friendly good-bye. Instead, fill your bags rather quickly, pay and move out of harm’s way as fast as possible.
On the other hand, enjoy the parking lots, especially the ones of the more upmarket overnight stays. They do resemble outdoor motor shows. Even Porsche GTs and Mercedes SLRs are actually being driven, not only displayed in temperature- and moisture-controlled showrooms. Seeing them parked there, with the above-mentioned smashed creepy-crawlies all over the bonnets and windscreens makes your car-loving heart skip a beat and fills you with awe.
I sample some more of the quaint villages with their ancient buildings, cobblestoned streets, cosy taverns and sunny al fresco restaurants. Places like Dettelbach, Iphofen, Frickenhausen and Marktbreit tempt you to spend some more time behind the cosiness of their protective city walls. The Porsche roars and rumbles on. I smell wood fires, freshly cut grass, overripe grapes catching the last rays of the sun, in order to turn into delightful late harvests – aromatherapy for the senses, an experience which is ideally enjoyed topless.
Later that day, with my Porsche parked safely in the hotel garage, the Rebstock Cayenne drops me off at the Weinhaus Stachel. It is my last evening in Würzburg. I’ll have some wine, socializing with old friends, talking about the past and the present. It feels great to go back to your roots once in a while.
Porsche Carrera 4 Cabriolet
Engine: 3.6 litre 6 cyl. boxer
Power: 239 kW (325 bhp) at 6900 rpm
Top speed: 280 km/h
0-100 km/h: 5.3 sec.
Fuel consumption: 8,4 – 16,6 l/100km
Colour of shown car: slate-grey metallic
Special feature: automatic softtop opens while driving speeds of up to 50 km/h, so you don’t have to stop in a sudden rain shower
Price: R 1 095 000
Infos: www.porsche.co.za
Where to stay?
GQ recommends:
Hotel Rebstock zu Würzburg
Historic hotel with a rococo style façade dating back to 1740, located in the middle of the city, with a Porsche Cayenne as a chauffeured hotel limousine.
Double room incl. breakfast 165 Euros
www.rebstock.com
Schloßhotel Steinburg
Historic castle high above Würzburg and its vineyards, with stunning views.
Double room incl. breakfast from 152 Euros.
www.steinburg.com
Zehntkeller Iphofen
Comfortable guest rooms, tastefully furnished, in this impressive, historic prince-bishop’s palace.
Double room incl. breakfast from 110 Euros.
www.zehntkeller.de
Where to eat & drink?
All three above-mentioned hotels have their own excellent restaurants. In addition we recommend:
Wein- und Speisehaus Zum Stachel
One of the oldest taverns in Germany.
www.weinhaus-stachel.de
Michelskeller
The place to be, to break the meter sausage eating record.
www.michelskeller.de
What to do?
Stadtstrand
Enjoy beach life on the banks of the river Main.
www.stadtstrand-wuerzburg.de
Africa Festival
Europe’s largest Africa festival.
www.africafestival.org
Würzburger Weindorf
Würzburg turns into one huge wine village.
www.weindorfwuerzburg.de
Infos:
Very well equipped tourism offices with friendly and helpful staff, all brochures also available in English.
Würzburg Info
www.wuerzburg.de
Fränkisches Weinland
www.fraenkisches-weinland.de
To find out more about Sulzfeld’s meter sausage go to:
www.meterbratwurst.de
