Tourists for a day

We’ve been going to Nuremberg every year for business (setting aside the pandemic hiatus) since 2016. We’d normally fly in on the day before the opening of Spielwarenmesse, an international trade show, then fly out again on the show’s final day. As a result, we’ve seen very little of the city itself. 

In 2017, we flew in a day earlier than normal and spent time visiting a few of its famous sights. This month we decided to repeat the exercise. Flights to London were insanely expensive on Saturday, the trade show’s final day. As a result, it would cost far less to stay an extra night and fly the following day. However, the only return flight available departed late evening, leaving a full day for exploring the city.

In the Middle Ages, German kings (known as Holy Roman Emperors after their coronation by the Pope) didn’t have a capital but voyaged from one imperial castle to the next hosting congress-style meetings called Diets. In 1356, Nuremberg was chosen to host the first Imperial Diet of every newly elected ruler, a tradition that continued until 1594. As a result, the town and its castle became pivotal in establishing the new leader’s authority. It was this heritage that inspired Hitler to host his infamous militarized rallies here. 

We kicked off our day with a late breakfast, before checking out of the hotel. Our first stop was Spittlertorturm, a defensive tower on the southwest corner of a medieval stone wall that still encircles the old city’s western fringe. In Summer you can climb the tower and walk the wall’s ramparts towards the Pegnitz River. During winter, access is closed so all we could do was follow the wall’s perimeter through the back streets of the old town.

Our route took us across the river and, towards the cobblestone pavers of Weißgerbergasse, a picturesque lane framed by half-timbered medieval homes. As we wandered closer to the centre of town we came across a restaurant we’d dined at earlier the week. I was surprised to see it sat in a plaza opposite Sebalduskirche, a massive medieval stone church.

As we passed through the Hauptmarkt, we were greeted by an animated midday performance in the Frauenkirche clock tower. This gothic-style Catholic church is home to the Männleinlaufen, a mechanical clock commemorating the Golden Bull of 1356. In all the years we’ve been coming to Nuremberg we never knew this clock existed.

The clock was installed in the church between 1506 and 1509. It depicts the seated Holy Roman Emperor surrounded by his prince-electors (the nobility who vote for his ascension). Once a day, at noon, a chiming bell starts the clock's sequence. A series of trumpeters and a drummer then raise their instruments and proclaim the hour. They're followed by a procession of electors who guide past the Emperor on a revolving platform.

We stopped to explore the iconic Lorenzkirche (Lawrence Church), an imposing Gothic church standing on the old’s town main boulevard. Its original structure was erected between 1243 and 1315. One of Nuremberg’s metro stations exits just outside this building, so we often pass it on our way to and from dinner. 

In 1943, on St. Lawrence Day (August 10), the building was hit by Allied bombs and was significantly destroyed. On January 2, 1945, another bomb caused the entire roof of the nave to collapse. The building was painstakingly restored and reopened in 1952.

Our final stop for the day was Nuremberg Castle. In all the years we’ve been coming to town, we’ve never ventured inside this iconic building. It sits on a rocky outcrop on the northernmost fringe of the old town. Posters and pamphlets around town are often decorated with its instantly recognisable silhouette.  

The entry fee was well worth the effort. It gave us access to the castle’s impressive Tiefer Brunnen (Deep Well), as well as its soaring keep, the Sinwell Tower. The castle itself houses a permanent exhibition about medieval Nuremberg, the Holy Roman Empire and castle life. Several rooms are dedicated to warfare and weapons of the era, including ornate suits of armour and some rather fearsome pikes and swords.

The Deep Well was fascinating. Its shaft extends more than 50 metres into the rock outcrop on which the castle is built. A tour guide brings this incredible feat of engineering to life by pouring water into the well. It takes at least four seconds for the sound to reverberate after hitting the bottom.

Garry and I both enjoyed the permanent exhibition. However, a climb up the wooden spiral staircase of Sinwell Tower was definitely the day’s highlight. The view of the old town from its enclosed turret was memorable, to say the least. However, a stiff cold breeze blowing through its open windows kept our visit relatively brief.

After a light meal in town, we eventually made our way back to the hotel to collect our luggage and head for the airport. We finally reached our hotel in London shortly before midnight. The following day we ventured into Soho for lunch with Aedhmar, my former CEO at Text 100. I’ve not seen her in person since November 2018, so our reunion was something special. 

It's hard to believe it's been almost 24 years since we first really connected. While we probably saw each other at a company event in 1998 we don’t recall meeting. We were also based on separate continents. As a result, we first spent quality time together during a two week secondment I took in San Francisco in 2000.

From lunch, we dashed back to Paddington to collect our luggage and then onto Heathrow. We gave the Cathay Pacific First Class Lounge a try as online reviewers rate it better than the Qantas lounge.  I can confidently report that those online accolades are spot on. The lounge was much quieter, with a dedicated dining room and spectacular airfield views. A few hours later we lifted off and our time in Europe was done for another year.

I'll leave you with some unfinished business. Below are images of Narrenschiffbrunnen, an incomplete water fountain installed in a small plaza in Nuremberg's old town, in 1988. Apparently, the city council vetoed donations offered to complete its waterworks and thus remains abandoned on its tiny plinth. 

According to its patron, the ship should overflow like a fountain bowl and water should bubble out of the galleon figures, the crow and the wine glass. Why the miserable characters? The 3.60 m high bronze sculpture of a little boat, filled with a rather unhappy crowd, symbolises an unsustainable world threatened with destruction.