29 March - Heidelberg to Rotweil

The tiny town of Rotweil north of the Swiss border is the complete antithesis of any image that might be conjured up by the dog of the same name.  Its calm, peaceful and largely pedestrianised (apart from when we tried to drive down it….) high street is a bright collection of baroque style buildings, colourful, decorated and supposedly little changed since the 1700s.  From the top of the wide high street you have good views across the surrounding hills.  It is quite charming and almost Swiss in its appearance and it is where we are spending tonight.

Rotweil was a two hour drive south towards Italy on a route that we had again chosen for speed rather than scenery and which was spent - at least in part - with an Italian language CD playing and the two of us trying to prepare for the weeks ahead.  We had chosen it as a destination before breakfast because it lay on our route, seemed small, and a quick internet search suggested it was pleasant enough.  The same search gave no clues about links to the dog but we are assuming there is one from the small and friendly black statues of Rotweillers that are dotted around the town - some wearing scarves and the like - seemingly attempting a makeover of the animal's reputation.

Our hotel is a characterful and wonderfully 16th century building of creaky stairs and dark wooded rambling corridors.  We ate in a local restaurant recommended by the hotel receptionist and night capped on coffee and cognac in a small and homely (some might say dingy) bar in a narrow street behind a church.  The men hunched individually and silent over their drinks along the bar and the one toilet at the rear marked 'transvestites' said all that needed to be said about the social mix of the usual clientele but it was charming in its way and we were only driven out by the cigarette smoke that engulfed the place once the television had been turned on for the evening's football.