48 hours in Regensburg is all it takes to realise that the Germans have been quietly hoarding one of Bavaria’s prettiest secrets. The Danube curves like it’s posing for postcards, medieval spires stab the sky, and cobbled lanes dare you to twist an ankle while gawping at Gothic doorways. There’s bratwurst, naturally, but also smoky beer, Roman ruins, and enough Baroque drama to make your Instagram followers think you’ve moved into a cathedral. The whole town feels like it should be humming with a soundtrack from a period drama, except it’s real, and nobody minds if you show up in trainers. It’s got all the charm of Prague without the selfie sticks, and all the history of Rome without the stress levels. Add to that a delightfully confusing blend of Bavarian joviality and German efficiency, and you’ve got yourself a cracking good time.
Start with the Old Stone Bridge (Steinerne Brücke), because it’s the kind of 12th-century marvel that makes you feel both small and vaguely heroic. Cross it for the best view of Regensburg’s skyline, which hasn’t changed much since people wore chainmail and argued over who had the best sword. Stand in the middle, soak in the view, and wonder how many medieval shoes have worn down these stones. Take a few dramatic selfies—preferably with a backdrop of the Cathedral piercing the sky like a divine exclamation mark. Just across the river is the Wurstkuchl, allegedly the oldest sausage kitchen in the world. It’s tiny, it’s smoky, and it’s essential. Grab a few bratwursts with sauerkraut and mustard, then pretend this counts as breakfast and not a life-altering spiritual experience in meat form. No one will judge you for ordering a second round. Maybe a third. Who’s counting?
Waddle over to Regensburg Cathedral (Dom St. Peter) before the food coma hits. It’s all soaring ceilings, saints in stained glass, and enough religious awe to make your atheist mate nervously reconsider their life choices. If you time it right, you might catch the Domspatzen boys’ choir floating Gregorian chants through the air like they invented ambience and you’ve just wandered into some medieval Spotify playlist. Wander around the square outside afterwards, where pigeons rule the roost and kids eat gelato as if it’s their last day on earth. You’ll probably find a street musician doing a haunting rendition of something vaguely Celtic on a wooden flute.
Drift over to Haidplatz, a square so photogenic it probably has an agent. Medieval towers lean like they’re in on some inside joke, and cafes spill tables onto the cobbles, practically begging you to stop for another coffee, even though your caffeine tolerance is already at dangerous levels. Settle in for people-watching, pastry-nibbling, and the occasional dramatic sigh as you pretend you’re in a film no one’s watching. Duck into any of the antique shops if you fancy a treasure hunt, or the odd art gallery that smells of varnish and curiosity. If you feel like playing local, order a Radler and eavesdrop on intense conversations about politics, weather, or Bundesliga rankings.
From Haidplatz, sneak down the alleyways that snake through the Altstadt. Every corner seems to reveal another fairy tale facade or surprise garden that makes you wish you lived here, even if just for the window boxes. Pop into a quirky bookstore, peer into courtyards, and get pleasantly lost for an hour. Pause to admire the endless variations of pastel-painted facades with their tiny wrought iron signs announcing everything from apothecaries to hat shops. For a spot of time travel, head into the Porta Praetoria. Built by Romans in 179 AD, it’s part of the original legionary camp wall, and yes, you can touch it, though it may not grant you the power of Caesar. Still, it feels mildly magical. A short wander lands you at the Thurn and Taxis Palace. Because of course Regensburg has a palace. It’s not exactly Versailles, but the family invented the European postal service, so there’s a bit of nerdy charm mixed in with the chandeliers and a surprising number of carriages. Spring for a guided tour if you’re feeling historical—or nosey.
Need a break from being impressed? Head over to Neupfarrplatz where a former synagogue site meets Roman ruins meets modern shopping. You can literally sip espresso while pondering the layers of history under your feet. There’s even an underground museum if you’re the type who wants to descend into the depths of time, quite literally. Street performers, accordion players, and the odd juggler sometimes pop up to add a dash of spontaneous charm. Evening vibes call for a slow stroll along the Danube, the kind that makes you question your life choices if they don’t currently include river walks and pre-dinner aperitifs. Boats drift by, the light softens, and couples make you slightly envious with their effortlessly stylish scarves. Dip into Spitalgarten beer garden. They serve up fresh brews and unreasonably scenic sunset views. Bonus points if you befriend a local who swears by the Spital Dunkel and gives you unsolicited life advice you’ll pretend to forget but secretly cherish.
Wrap the night with live jazz or something vaguely acoustic at Leerer Beutel – an artsy spot that refuses to be pigeonholed. It’s gallery, cafe, concert hall, and probably hiding a secret time portal. Don’t ask questions, just sip your wine and vibe. If you’re still standing afterwards, take a moody walk through the town squares, now softly lit and echoing with footsteps. Regensburg gets even more beautiful at night, if that’s even possible. Stumble upon a hidden bar, or follow the faint thump of electronic music to a vaulted cellar club filled with students and candlelight.
Day two of your 48 hours in Regensburg should start with caffeine and pastry at the tucked-away Cafe Pernsteiner, where locals read the paper and raise a sceptical eyebrow at your photo-taking. Get the buttery thing you can’t pronounce. You won’t regret it. Fuelled up, meander towards the Altes Rathaus, where you can tour the medieval torture chamber and question how anyone survived the 14th century with their limbs intact. Yes, it’s mildly disturbing. No, you shouldn’t skip it. If anything, it’ll make you appreciate the modern world’s lack of spiked interrogation chairs. Don’t forget to peek into the ornate council chambers—because politics used to be brutal and beautiful.
Get some fresh air (and moral recovery) with a walk along the UNESCO World Heritage route. You’ll pass pastel-coloured townhouses, secret courtyards, curious cats, and probably a few uni students pretending to read Thomas Mann. Art nerds should swing by the St. Ulrich church-turned-museum, with its treasure trove of religious art and a silence that feels vaguely judgmental. For bonus points, pop into the Regensburg Museum of History. There’s chainmail, Roman pottery, and enough weaponry to fuel your inner Viking. If you’re the sort who likes a bit of spooky with your artefacts, ask about the ghost stories. There are always ghost stories. And if it starts raining, all the better—nothing says Gothic mood like a bit of drizzle on old stones.
If you’re feeling energetic and slightly ambitious, rent a bike and head out along the Danube cycle path. Flat, breezy, and peppered with riverside beer gardens, it’s an easy way to earn your next snack. Bring a basket and pretend you’re in a German remake of a French rom-com. Alternatively, go all in and make a pilgrimage to Walhalla. It’s a neoclassical temple plonked dramatically on a hill above the Danube, filled with busts of Germanic heroes. Think of it as the Teutonic Mount Rushmore, only with more toga and fewer eagles. The view alone makes the hike worth it, and your legs will forgive you by next Tuesday. Sit on the steps and channel your inner philosopher. If you squint hard enough, you might even spot the Alps.
Head back into town with enough time to do some casual souvenir shopping. Regensburg is full of odd little shops where you’ll find things like hand-painted Christmas ornaments, questionable herbal liqueurs, and bookmarks with more personality than some people. Chat with the shopkeepers if you can. They know things. Or hit the Saturday market at Kohlenmarkt for fresh bread, local cheese, and the occasional busker serenading you with a battered accordion.
Finish your 48 hours in Regensburg with a lazy meal at Historische Wurstkuchl if you’re still not wurst-ed out, or grab tapas at Bodega for a weirdly good Spanish twist. Or go for broke and hit up Dicker Mann for hearty Franconian cuisine that could knock out a bear. If you’ve got a sweet tooth, end the night with ice cream from Stenz, or a slab of something chocolatey from Café Lila. Either way, raise a glass to a town that manages to be grand and cosy all at once, where history smacks you in the face with charm and beer is practically a religion. Two days well spent, ankles only slightly twisted, camera roll dangerously full, and your heart just a little bit stolen.
There you have it: 48 hours in Regensburg, stretched, savoured, wandered, and wondered at. Long enough to fall a little in love, short enough to want more. And absolutely enough to make you wonder why more people haven’t caught on. But don’t worry—we won’t tell them if you don’t.
Post Comment