If Heidelberg is a fairy tale land, then on one particular night, we had a fairy tale moment.
The weather forecast warned us that rain was going to loom over part of our vacation. Heidelberg, with a 100% chance of rain, would have more puddles than tourists on its cobblestone streets. There’s an inherent positive aspect of traveling off-peak season: less people. But on a day where distant thunder slowly draws closer and rain droplets begin seeping down our backs despite carrying an umbrella, we quickly realize precisely why there is a “peak season”.
However, no matter the weather, two weary travelers staying in a 17th century pension (boarding house complete with creaky stairs and one bathroom for six guest rooms to share) still have to find some place to eat dinner.
So bundling up in our best rain wear, we traverse onto the seemingly desolate Hauptstrasse (main street) in the Altstadt (old town).
A local döner shop lures us in immediately. We quickly devour a couple of döners- the quintessential concoction of freshly carved meat wrapped in warm flatbread, nestled next to lettuce, tomatoes, and topped with the signature white sauce.
Then with renewed travel bravado, the two of us embark on a mission to find a world-class view of the famous Heidelberg Castle. After all, we only have a few nights in this city– we can’t waste it huddled in our room!
We decide that crossing the Alte Brucke (old bridge) to get to the north side of the Neckar River (a river which bisects the city) would surely do the trick.
Puddle by puddle, step by step, brick by brick, we make our way towards our destination. We excitedly take in the crisp breeze and the musky wet scent that the night provides. Mark Twain claimed that Heidelberg at nightfall becomes “a fallen Milky Way… its intricate cobweb of streets jeweled with twinkling lights.” And to his credit, the two of us wholeheartedly agree with that sentiment.
Rain is often seen by vacationers as a surefire way to ruin their plans. It eradicates grand itineraries that were intricately put together. We’ve all seen the commercials. A family of four arrives in the Caribbean; thunder and lightning strike; said weeklong sunny getaway turns into 5 days of watching terrible 80’s sitcom reruns on the hotel television.
In Heidelberg, rain has the exact opposite effect. It brings a newfound vibrancy to the city, which we soak up from under our umbrella as we stand with a panoramic view of the city and castle in front of us.
It’s these unplanned, no admission ticket-needed moments that create special memories we can take home with us. And it doesn’t even take up extra space in our luggage.
Making our way back across the Alte Brucke, we sidestep into a small alley where a single gelato shop is still open. Although it is 40 degrees with wind chill, our golden rule is to never pass up ice cream.
Gelato scoops attained, we walk the block or two towards our Heidelberg nest where a warm bed awaits. But as swift as the wind, a series of angelic voices come into our periphery. We draw closer towards the Marktplatz (Market Plaza), and soon find a group of fifty or so German voices in front of the Church of the Holy Spirit. Who are they? What possesses these people to brave this weather to sing in front of a row of shuttered tourist kiosks?
Their united voices bellow out to the plaza as if there is a colosseum full of admirers there to appreciate their efforts! But in truth- there is but a handful of locals and university students standing around confounded by the spectacle.
We stop- because for one thing, we are getting a free German concert. But we really stop because, though drenched and hoping for the reprieve of a warm heater, we are in Heidelberg- gelato in hand, girl and boys choir singing on a cold German night, and the two of us holding hands. Nora Ephron couldn’t have written it better.
We stand. We listen. We polish off the gelato on this 40 degree night. And we embrace each other and the city for all that it offers.