.: bewitched :.

Yesterday, after a three-and-a-half hour drive from Unterfranken—the final stretch criss-crossing the rivers that cascaded down the mountains, we arrived in the Harz. We decamped to a very posh resort in the former Stadtschloss of Imperial and Hanseatic Quedlinburg.
After settling in, we all took a stroll through the well-preserved half-timbered gallery of the old town, that branched off, lazily and quietly in all directions.

In the late afternoon, we toured the storied abbey of the town, that was still imposing and impressive with its treasury—loot returned to Quedlinburg just recently after a US soldier confessed to robbing the church during the last days of the war, though a bit denatured and pared down from former mystique. It was also the site of the grave of Henry the Fowler (Heinrich der Vogler)—once coltishly revered during the war as the Teutonic hero-ideal, and whose daughter Matilda founded this independent abbey for the up-building of the noble maidens of Europe and was answerable to no one but the Pope. We passed through the markets and marveled at the maze of alley ways and craftsmanship in the buildings, enjoying the fine luxury of the hotel in between. Today we embarked on an ambitious tour of the Harz, by car, gondola and foot.

First, we walked around the so-called Teufelsmauer (Devil’s Wall) a rocky outcropping that jutted out of the plains around the mountains. We took a route through the villages and got to enjoy the landscape all the while and came to our base camp for our first ascent: we boarded a very modern cable car that quickly carried us over the Bode Gorge to the Hexentanzplatz (Witches’ Dance Spot).

The vista was absolutely breathtaking and the crowd of tourists could not diminish the vague other-worldly feel of the place. It was from here that the princess Brunhilde escaped from her pursuers on horseback with a legendary leap across the gorge—the desperate hoof-print is preserved as a stone imprint on the other side. After descending, we took a nice walk along the rocky rapids through the valley below. One can bob-sled down but we weren’t brave enough for that. Before returning, we took a look at the sluices and dams systems that harness some of the power of the onslaught of waters here.

We drove across the retaining wall of the Rappbodetalsperre and learned about this highest dam in Germany. In the evening, we explored more of Quedlinburg and relaxed a bit for our next adventures: the town of Wernigerode and a narrow-gauge steam locomotive that will chug all the way to the summit of the Brocken, the highest peak in the Harz.