Fifty-three miles to the north of Weingarten (or, more to the point, seventy-three miles north of Lindau, where we’d spent the night) is the metropolis of Ulm, a city of 126,000 located at the intersection of major north-south and east-west routes in southern Germany. It’s situated on the left bank of the Danube River, which in that area separates the states of Baden-Württemberg and Bavaria, before continuing eastward to places like Nuremberg, Vienna, Budapest, Belgrade, and eventually the Black Sea. It’s an old city – there is evidence of a Neolithic settlement in the area from as early as 5000 B.C., and there is mention of Ulm as a city around 850 A.D. A famous battle was fought at Ulm in 1805, in which Napoleon was able to trap an entire Austrian army.

In 1810, Ulm became part of the Kingdom of Württemberg, and the part of the city on the other side of the Danube had to become a separate city, as it was now in a different kingdom. This new city was called Neu-Ulm (New Ulm), and it remains a separate city up to the present day. Ulm’s principal landmark is the Ulm Minster (Ulmer Münster), which is the tallest church in the world. The most well-known person to have lived in Ulm is probably Albert Einstein, who was born here in 1879 (the house was destroyed by Allied bombing in 1944, along with its entire neighborhood; there’s a monument in the house’s approximate location). The astronomer Johannes Kepler also lived here for a while, back in the 17th Century.

As Werner was driving us up from Lindau, it became clear that the weather would not be cooperating, as it was gray and drizzly. We parked near the town center and made our way to the Münsterplatz, the square in front of the Minster. We took a few minutes to marvel at the Minster in its 530-foot glory, despite the precipitation.

We didn’t linger for long, however, as we were just getting wet. We moved on in search of lunch, resolving to return to the Minster for a closer look later, when it would hopefully be less damp. We walked along the south side of the church and found the tables, seating and food stalls of a beer garden.


We didn't stop for lunch in the beer garden, though. Soaking both ourselves and our lunch struck us as a bad idea. We continued through the beer garden and followed Werner and Nila onto a side street, where we found the Hotel Restaurant Ulmer Spatz (a spatz is a sparrow), which offered good traditional food in warm and dry surroundings.



After finishing lunch, we found that the lunch break had not improved the weather appreciably. Nevertheless, we did a little exploring of the immediate area before heading back toward the Minster. We found that Ulm had an interesting old Rathaus (Town Hall), which was originally built in 1370 and which is covered in colorful murals dating back to the 16th Century. The building looked pretty good, having been restored after damage suffered in the 1944 bombing.


As stated above, the Minster is the tallest church in the world, having attained this height in the 19th Century. Primary construction of the church had taken place between 1377 and 1543, followed by a long break until construction resumed in 1844. The 19th Century work included the addition of flying buttresses and secondary towers, in addition to a radical expansion of the main tower. Much of the original work had been done in brick, but the towers were mostly done in sandstone. The church has a little bit of a split personality – in 1530-31, during the Reformation, Ulm officially converted from Catholicism to Protestantism, and the Minster became a Lutheran church. So while the church’s layout and sheer ambition reflect its original Catholic character, measures have been taken (e.g. the painting over of some of the frescoes) to scale back some of the decorative elements, which Protestants can find distracting.







Here are some decorative elements that are very similar to things that might be found in a Catholic church:



While the Minster has some paintings, as also seen in Catholic churches, there are noticeably fewer of them. But there are many medallion-shaped coat-of-arms things.



Having seen what we could of the inside of the church, we had nothing left to face but the unspoken challenge of the world’s tallest church: getting to the top. The cost was five euros for the honor of climbing 768 steps (no elevator) in the rain and wind to reach a small observation platform at 469 feet, from which the entirety of Ulm could be viewed at leisure. The adults in our group knew this to be an errand of the young or foolhardy, and elected to stay in the warm, dry church. But Connie was determined to represent the young, and I somehow felt the need to represent the foolhardy, so the two of us paid our money and started to climb. Along the way we found straightforward flights of stairs, spiral stairs, uncovered walkways, gargoyles and bells, and eventually a final spiral staircase which was too narrow for two-way traffic.




At last we reached the platform and enjoyed the view from the tallest church on the planet. It was cold and damp and the wind was intense, but we highly recommend the experience. But if you’re going to go, you should go soon, because in a few short years this probably won’t be the world’s tallest church anymore. Construction is proceeding apace on Barcelona’s Sagrada Família church, and around 2026, the central tower of the church is projected to reach its final height, about 30 feet taller than the Ulm Minster. I don’t know what the access plans are for this new tower, but I suspect they will involve an elevator.





Returning to ground level was easier, given the gravity assist, but was hard on a whole different set of muscles and joints, so by the time we reunited with the rest of our party, I for one was not and for a while would not be interested in scaling the world’s tallest anything. Fortunately, nobody seemed very interested in exploring Ulm any further, so we returned to the car and headed back to Weingarten. We rested a bit and eventually ate some dinner and posed for a few more pictures.


For us, this essentially ended another busy day in southern Germany, but we had one more to come before we would be moving on to our next destination. We would be using that day to explore Weingarten’s next-door neighbor, the city of Ravensburg.