Worth Seeing in Aschaffenburg: Between “Leberkäse” and “Äppelwoi”

“We are stuck! Have you got your swimming trunks with you?” Jochen Grimm has already cast the hook he uses to haul in his fish traps a dozen times – without success. But, finally, it works: the fisherman on the river Main catches the rope on which the eel traps are lined up and pulls one after the other on board the long barge – the first three fish of the day wriggle in one of them.

With a loud sigh, he heaves the last of the ten heavy traps on board. “Are you getting old?” his coxswain taunts. “I hope so!” counters Jochen glibly, and they both have to grin – that’s what a well-rehearsed team sounds like! Once a week, the two go out on the river: in summer they catch eels, from September they net perch, pike and pikeperch.

Fishermen on the Main River Have a Real Passion for Their Work

Jochen is a 16th generation fisherman. When his family started the trade in 1563, Johannisburg Castle, the magnificent backdrop to which we are travelling today, did not yet exist. “My father always took me along as a coxswain when I was a child – that sparked a passion for fishing and a love of nature in me,” says Jochen as he looks for the nearest fish traps.

The fish go into the net in front of the imposing castle and into the basket behind it. Jochen sells his catch at the weekly market in Aschaffenburg. The motto here is every Saturday: First shopping, then a round of “Schoppen”. Once the shopping is done, it’s time to meet up and enjoy a glass of Franconian wine – a Schoppen – and a picnic basket on the balustrade of the castle terrace to chat and enjoy the view over the Main valley.

Lederhosen and a Hessian dialect

It is just 40 kilometres from here to Frankfurt and 330 to Munich: Aschaffenburg is one of the northernmost cities in Bavaria. That’s why locals often have to dispel a few prejudices in conversations with strangers: no, we’re not a suburb of Frankfurt! No, we don’t call ourselves “Aschenbecher” in our dialect, but “Aschebärscher”. And yes, we are real Bavarians – even if the people of Munich might find it amusing.

Adding to the historical confusion is the fact that Aschaffenburg was part of the Electorate of Mainz for roughly 850 years – and it only became part of Bavaria in 1814. The dialect from the Electorate of Mainz period has been preserved, which is why linguists see the locals as “Hessian-speaking Franconians”. But the people’s hearts beat for Bavaria, recognisable not only by the number of lederhosen and dirndls at festivals, but also by the large fan base of FC Bayern Munich.

The people of Mainz also bequeathed the castle with its striking red sandstone façade to the city. We drift through the halls with the paintings of the Bavarian State Painting Collection, where works by Lucas Cranach the Elder hang, among others. The collection of cork models of ancient Roman architecture is unusual – a fad of the early 19th century.

The Carillonneur in the Castle Tower

Suddenly, bells ring out from the castle tower: not a mundane ding-dong, but a film soundtrack, played live by Georg Wagner. There are only five carillons in Bavaria, but Aschaffenburg is the only town to have its very own carillonneur. “The carillon fascinates me so much because it is a completely public instrument,” says the musician. “Every note we play up here is heard by the whole city.”

Georg travels at least five times a year to play for special occasions – a tradition from Belgium and the Netherlands, where light music has been played on market days for centuries. In a small cabin in the castle tower, the carillonneur presses down the keys, which look like broomsticks, with his fist. They are connected to the bells by wires, each weighing between ten and 270 kilos.

“You should only play pieces that most people like! Experimental music quickly leads to a sense of discomfort,” explains Wagner and now goes on to play Frère Jacques. Loud singing can be heard from Schlossplatz: a few market visitors have joyfully joined in the song. And at the end there is loud applause for the carillonneur.

Germany’s very own Nice, on the Lower Main

After the heat in the tower, we immerse ourselves in the fresh air in the palace gardens and feel as if whisked away to the Mediterranean: Vines climb over the arcade path to the so-called “breakfast temple”, blue rain floods over a pergola, almond and lemon trees, ginkgos, figs and lavender grow in between. A romantic little bridge leads over the town moat with its shady wilderness.

The Mediterranean-looking vegetation has a long tradition: Bavarian King Ludwig I liked to call sun-kissed Aschaffenburg his “Bavarian Nice” and created a stunning Mediterranean landscape here. The absolute showpiece towers above the vineyards and the river Main: with the “Pompejanum” – a replica of a Roman villa – the monarch pursued his passion for this chapter in history in the excavations in Pompeii in the middle of the 19th century.

Roman Villa with Belvedere

“Ludwig was very interested in antiquity and wanted it to be authentic,” explains Petra Harink. “He even sent craftsmen to Italy to learn the techniques.” The city guide finds it particularly exciting to convey everyday Roman culture during her tour of the house: cooking and eating habits or the attitudes towards love and sexuality at the time.

There is a typical Roman courtyard, magnificent mosaics, dining rooms with dining sofas, busts of the emperors and wall-filling frescoes, in which the restorer has hidden a few surprises. However, Ludwig I did not adhere strictly to history: “The attachment on the roof is not authentic, but the king definitely wanted a Belvedere,” explains the expert.

Colourful Life by the River

Various paths lead from the castle gardens back to the banks of the Main: you can either walk through the municipal vineyard or pass the city’s latest eye-catcher, the glass lift complete with skywalk between the palace and the river.

The locals call the building “Mikado” because of its cladding made of vertical, “interlocked” wooden beams. The platform, standing at a height of 14 metres, opens up entirely new perspectives and views of the historic raft harbour and the castle terrace.

The lift serves as a popular meeting point at sunset, as it is just a few steps from the old town with its wine taverns in the half-timbered houses or a beer garden on the banks of the Main. There you can sit in deckchairs and watch life unfold on the water, where houseboats chug along, yachts bob and stand-up paddlers glide past.

Stop for art

On the river bank, we come across a “stop” with the letters BOB above it, but there is not a road in sight for miles. Modern art is exhibited in twelve timetable holders. “In the beginning, cyclists were up in arms because they thought a road was being built here,” says initiator Bob Maier with a laugh. “Back then, I was part of the installation: I sat here with a cool bag full of beer and tried to strike up a conversation.”

The “magic of waiting” was the basic idea of the self-taught, part-time artist, who actually works in a haulage company. “I find waiting situations while travelling incredibly exciting, as during this time, often more interesting things happen than at the actual visitor highlights,” explains Bob.

Over the past fifteen years, he has exhibited all kinds of art: acrylics, paintings, collages, comic strips, drawings. “Once, an artist completely crocheted the stop, thereby making the posts grey and the signs green. And so it became a new sculpture,” says Bob, who even designed the stop together with refugees as part of a project.

Homage to artist Christian Schad

From small projects to large museums: Aschaffenburg’s cultural programme is particularly diverse for a city with just 72,000 inhabitants. For example, in the traditional municipal theatre, in the birthplace of the painter, Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, or in the latest flagship: the Christian Schad Museum, which opened in 2022.

This colourful artist (1894 - 1982), who lived in Aschaffenburg for roughly four decades, made a name for himself above all as one of the most important representatives of the New Objectivity movement – with techniques such as schadography, the photographing of objects in photograms. We get to try out this technology for ourselves in a “Schadomat” in the museum.

Schad was in great demand as a portrait painter, but he also struggled: “He made a living as a yoga and French teacher at times, and he’d host guests who would sit around his camping table,” museum director, Johannes Honeck, tells us, in whose “open office” in the centre of the museum we sink into fluffy beanbags.

Honeck wants to use this new format to stimulate dialogue with the locals: “Many people don’t know us at all. But I want to show the people of Aschaffenburg that this museum ultimately belongs to them – and collect a few ideas in the process.”

Bavarian-style pizza

Fresh ideas are also in demand in the catering scene with its three culinary pillars: Bavaria is represented on the menus with wheat beer, Leberkäse and Hax’n. Or should it be Franconian today? No worries, because there is “Schäufele”, Nuremberg sausages and wine from the Bocksbeutel. Hesse fans drink “Äppelwoi” or “apple wine” from the Bembel (a traditional stoneware jug) and eat “Frankfurt green sauce” with eggs and potatoes.

“Our cuisine is truly crossover,” says Jennifer Zeller, who has taken over a 130-year-old traditional restaurant, the “Wurstbendel”. “They used to be gloomy rooms with nothing but “Worscht” on the menu,” says the restaurateur with a laugh. “I brought in a girly touch: bright colours, fun paintings and original accessories instead of old beer bottles on the shelves.”

During the pandemic, the pub survived thanks to a fusion that is now a favourite in many beer gardens. “I actually invented the Brizza by chance,” says Jennifer. “We had left a tray of melted pretzel dough on the oven by mistake. I spontaneously made a pizza out of it – with Obatztem and slices of veal sausage as toppings.”

Today, pretzel pizza is available in numerous variations: Bavarian, Franconian, Mediterranean. Only a Hessian Brizza is still missing. The new speciality is a bit like Aschaffenburg itself, says Jennifer: “That’s the practical thing about living in a border region: we take the best of all regions and combine them in a new way.” A typical “Aschebärscher” mix!