Germany's most beautiful Youth Hostel

There can surely be no doubt about it. If there were a more beautifully located Youth Hostel in Germany it would have to be somewhere pretty special.

This weekend was looking pretty empty on Friday. With all 3 flatmates due to be in their relevant hometowns, I was looking at 48 hours without the easily accessible socialising I've come to expect from my home life.

So what to do?

I googled "best youth hostels in germany" and found a page called "The Best Youth Hostels in Germany Near Castles" (it's worth noting here that anyone who doesn't rejoice the entering of the internet into all of our lives and complains about the all-pervasive reach of information and the impersonality of modern communication just ain't usin' it right! For me at least, having Google permanently at my fingertips makes me feel like a mixture of Thomas Edison and Thomas Cook. A shining and brilliant mind, with a ready knowledge of all the hottest deals and beaches the world has to offer. Awesome).

One of the above-mentioned best hostels in Germany near castles was in Hessen (my adoptive home-state) and fulfilled its promise of being "near castles" in wonderfully flamboyant style. As we will see...

In a rare revival of Levy luck, the day I chose for my first real trip out of Frankfurt (and my first proper usage of the extremely generous State-wide semester train ticket that comes with being a student here) was easily the finest day weather-wise since October. The sky was bright, the temperature was double-figures and everything seemed well with the world.

After an hour on the train I was greeted by a sight as different from the Ostend of Frankfurt as one could imagine:

 and after a very gentle 20-minute cycle ride felt truely in the middle of the German nowhere:

 

Things got a lot more strenuous for a while but I was swiftly rewarded with the following impressively elevated-seeming view:

It was at this point that I realised that the magical castle perched on the hill that was just behind me when I took this photo was not merely near the Youth Hostel, as advertised, but actually was the youth hostel. Here's the hostel as viewed from outside the walls:

and here is the entrance to the reception area:

As I said earlier, it's pretty much impossible to imagine a better-located Youth Hostel. To top off the great weather, fun cycle ride, wonderful architecture and splendid view, I was delighted by a massive group of German school kids running amok in a wild, lightly supervised and entirely un-Teutonic fashion. Youngsters screaming and teenagers grumpily agreeing to join in the fun.

Delight, however, turned to horror when I realised that these excitable folk were my ONLY stablemates for the evening. Apart from the six-or-so adults who were there to ensure that wild fun didn't turn to all-out Lord-of-the-Flies action, I was the only adult staying in the Hostel that night. I was on the top of a mountain. The sky was beginning to darken. I was alone.

Always one to make the best of things I decided to have an early evening snooze, shower, and head down to the restaurant to take in some of the local mountain-top night life. It was only after the nap however that I realised that in my concern to pack enough oranges and chocolate to keep me going should I get lost in the forest, I forgot to bring either a towel or any clean underwear. Not entirely atypical, but disappointing nonetheless.

The restaurant did little to lift my spirits. The food was marvellous and incredibly plentiful (the Germans know how to make a schnitzel in a way that, somehow, Tesco has yet to master). But the restaurant was empty bar a group of friendly-seeming folk who kept making seemingly pointed references to the fact that they couldn't drink since they'd be driving down to civilisation after the meal. I read my book (in German!!), enjoyed my Bratkartoffel and indulged myself with two Pilsner.

I looked for signs of post-pubescent life after dinner but found none. Resigned, I decided to retire and read more of my book, followed by an early night.

The kiddies rose early to a breakfast which was a crazed shambles between 8 and 9am and completely done, dusted and tidied away by the time I arrived at 9:15 or so (I consider this early. Hostel owners would clearly consider this practically lunchtime). The friendly kitchen-woman agreeed to make a bespoke breakfast and did a fine job of making the echoing old dining hall look inviting, with a hot coffee and some cheese rolls but somehow it's just not how one imagines spending a weekend in the country:

My mood was lifted by the fabulous view but I was, nevertheless, ready to head back to the towers, trams and tramps of metropolis.

Glad to be back, I had a marvellous afternoon with Marcus and Anne (see previous post re. changing flatmates) involving a Seurat exhibition, coffee and cake and a 2-hour sauna (naked Germans, steam-room insanity that burned the eyes, terrifying plunge pool action of the is-this-invigorating-or-am-I-having-a-heart-attack style), a glass of wine out (out the house! woo!) followed by pizza and bed.

The moral of this particular tale:
better to be somewhere ugly with great people, than to be somewhere beautiful alone. Next time I go on a jouney, I'm going to ensure that at least one of the people there was born when I started Secondary School.