Fun in Bavaria

We spent last weekend in Landshut, Germany, a small town about 45 minutes northeast of Munich (like all Americans, I measure distance in hours and minutes). We went to see our friend and her new baby, who were visiting relatives there. I’m usually not all that enthralled with babies, but this one was particularly cute. Not like most babies.

As stipulated by Bavarian law, we consumed nothing but pretzels, cheese, and weissbier for the entire weekend (being a vegetarian, I was able to finagle my way out of the sausage requirement).

Landshut is awfully adorable for a town you’ve never heard of. It has a gorgeous cathedral, and a foreboding castle up on a hill overlooking the town. The houses along the main street look like they’ve been painted with birthday cake frosting. There is also a bakery on practically every corner, offering among other things a tempting assortment of melted-cheese-covered baked goods (mostly pretzels).

This was our second trip there, the first one being earlier this year for the Landshuter Hochzeit, a festival held every four years which involves the reenactment of wedding festivities from 1475, the year that marked the end of Landshut’s importance to anyone from anywhere but Landshut. There is jousting, parading, medieval flag-throwing, public drunkenness, and of course obscene amounts of sausage, cheese, pretzels and beer. In order to participate as a character in the reenactment, one must have been born in Landshut, which surely explains why black-market Landshut birth certificates command such ridiculous prices. You also have to stop cutting your hair years in advance to qualify, because apparently haircuts had not yet been invented in 1475. Plus, I hear it helps if you have lots of money, or have connections on the all-powerful Landshuter Hochziet board of directors. I learned this while drinking weissbier with my friend’s father, who seemed more than a little bitter that he had never been chosen to participate.