Mapping the path

Around the Rhine

Day 6: Baden-Baden

“The city so nice, they named it twice” is New York, New York, but it could also apply to Baden-Baden, Germany, a spa town in a little valley of the Black Forest, east of the Rhine. Baden is German for “bathing,” but the name originates from an earlier plural form of bad, or bath. Because there were other famous spa towns in the German-speaking world named “Baden” – particularly in Switzerland and Austria – this one differentiated itself by adding a second “Baden,” a reference to the larger Baden region, known today as the state of Baden-Württemberg.

I had never given Baden-Baden much thought before this day. I spent a few months preparing for the trip as advertised, gathering information on the places we were slated to see along the Rhine – the key sights, their historical importance, places to eat, and good areas for shopping. I had learned a great deal about the castle in Heidelberg, the vineyards and quaint streets of Rüdesheim, and the Gothic cathedral in Cologne. But the drought gripping Germany meant we would need to leave the Rhine and all those plans behind.

We boarded a bus in the early morning and took it through farmland east of the Rhine, rising briefly as we reached the Black Forest, then descending into the little Oos River valley to Baden-Baden. We stopped at the Evangelical Church of Baden-Baden, built in 1864, and started walking north toward the center of this 19th century city.

The Romans took in the hot springs at Baden-Baden, establishing a bath house 2,000 years ago on a hill above the eastern bank of the Oos river. There are 12 natural springs in town, whooshing up from wells nearly 6,000 feet deep at 90 gallons per minute. The water is exceptionally salty and hot, bubbling between 115° and 153° Fahrenheit, and has been said to help cure gout, rheumatism, arthritis, skin conditions, and more.

In 1804, tales of these restorative waters reached the ear of Queen Louise of Prussia, who visited Baden-Baden to seek a cure for an ailment. Her royal presence boosted the town’s profile almost immediately. The government funded development projects aimed at making Baden-Baden a resort destination with rejuvenative powers. It worked. The town soon became the must-see destination for world leaders such as Queen Victoria and Kaiser Wilhelm; musicians Johannes Brahms and Hector Berlioz; and writers Fyodor Dostoevsky, Leo Tolstoy, and Nikolai Gogol. Baden-Baden boomed. Up went luxury hotels, the casino, the theater, several churches, and the showpiece Trinkhalle (“pump room”) — all in just 30-40 years.

Our group was headed for Kurhaus, home of the grand Casino Baden-Baden. We first passed through another Christmas market under construction, on the promenade in front of Kurhaus. We would see four half-built markets on this trip, all beckoning with seasonal and regional delights. If you drift a bit, let your mind go, you can catch a glimmer of happy crowds moving through the stalls, young faces glowing under the lights, swirls of steam from hot drinks — a little corner of high spirits gathered together on a chilly December night.

But this was November. So we had a quiet stroll through a ghost town of boarded-up decorations, a light mist now dampening our way. No hot drinks.

We soon reached Kurhaus. During the 1800s, the casino here gained an international reputation for offering high-class games across the border from France, where gambling was illegal. Dostoevsky, who gambled in in Switzerland, Austria, and Germany, wrote The Gambler based in part on his (mostly losing) experiences at Kurhaus.

The casino is a formal affair, requiring a jacket for the gentlemen. Today’s games include roulette, blackjack, poker, and slot machines. It is decorated in a glittering Belle Époque style, little ballrooms with royal red carpets and tables at discreet distances. Marlene Dietrich famously called it "the most beautiful casino in the world."

It would have been nice to slip in for a few hands of blackjack, senses overwhelmed by the spectacle, sipping cooly on a cocktail. But as it was, we were confined to the bottom of the stairs leading up to the casino, in a lobby positively stuffed for some reason with wet schoolchildren. As we waited for our guide to collect her flock, I maneuvered through the mass of kids to find a place to stand. “What the hell is happening here?” I wondered. “Who brings schoolchildren to stand in a casino lobby?”

We left and headed to the neighboring Trinkhalle, part of the Kurhaus complex. The extravagant pump room is fronted by a long arcade lined with Corinthian columns and frescoes depicting life in the Baden region. Inside, you can sample the hot springs through a small fountain — if intensely hot, salty water is your thing.

Our group crossed over to the eastern side of the Oos, through attractive cobblestone streets lined with shops, hotels, and restaurants. We continued past the two big spas in the city: Friedrichsbad Baden-Baden, a proper, stately, 19th century building; and the Caracella Spa, a more modern structure set in a forested backdrop with a small chapel in front. Between the two are glimpses of old Roman walls and the spot of a Roman fountain. It is a beautiful mélange of architectural confusion.

Our formal tour ended, leaving us with a few hours in town. Marianne and our friend Karen shifted smoothly into Shopping Mode. During Shopping Mode, I have three clear jobs: 1) Stay close, in case my opinion is needed, 2) But not too close, so I am not pressuring the shoppers, and 3) Hold the bags. So, with the patience and concentration of a monk, I stood outside a variety of stores and watched very little happen. In the course of time, gifts, souvenirs, and sweaters were procured, but for me, in my Shopping Mode zen, it was but a moment, a slow exhale of time passing. Then — because, alas, I am not entirely immune to the needs of the physical world — it was very much time for lunch.

I led the way to Osteria Stromboli, an Italian restaurant off one of the main pedestrian streets. It had a cozy ambiance and featured a kindly, attentive waiter. Marianne enjoyed her mushroom pizza, and I hit the absolute jackpot with my Spaghetti Carrettiera: pasta with plum tomatoes, garlic, diced ham, mushrooms, Pecorino-Romano cheese, and bread crumbs. As we left, the owners thanked us warmly — asking where we were from, and letting us take a few photos of them. Top to bottom, an excellent experience. What a treat (/relief) it is to find a place like this on your first trip to a foreign city!

We had a little more time for shopping before returning to our bus. We wandered up a side street to find Antiquariat Thelen, a gorgeous store full of rare books, maps, and prints. It was an oasis of wood-floored warmth in what was becoming a colder, windier day. Marianne bought a pretty print of Baden-Baden set against the more rural hills of an earlier time.

We walked back to the other side of the Oos, past Kurhaus and up the hill into Kurpark. The park was in full autumn splendor, from bright yellow to burnt gold to cranberry red. We hiked a short way up a trail to a tiny pond with a pair of ducks, then looked back to admire the view across to the hills on the opposite side of the valley.

We stayed on the west side of the Oos as we headed back to the bus, walking along the Lichtentaler Allee promenade that runs throughout the center of town. Like the Rhine, the Oos was pretty low for November, trickling weakly like a wet streak on a tapestry of fallen leaves.

When we arrived back aboard the AmaStella, Janet was finishing a talk on Franciscan wines. Cruise Director Pao then gave a lengthy overview of the very full day to come. We would need to pack our bags that night, and be ready early the next morning to leave the AmaStella for good.

< Day 5: Strasbourg | Day 7: Luxembourg >