Rising like a slab of creamy confectionery in the lush green pastureland of Wies, its world-famous church is a masterpiece by the Zimmerman brothers, architect Dominikus and painter Johann.
The car park was packed at midday and we joined throngs of people of all nationalities on the short walk through the fields to the church.
On the previous day a special mass celebrating the three Archangels had been held, in Korean. The church has been a pilgrimage site since being built in the mid-17th century to house a miraculous statue of a weeping Christ. The statue is at the altar, but I didn’t wish to see its brutally scourged and distraught man.
The German realism was a bit too intense, so instead I enjoyed the brightly frescoed scenes of the seemingly floating ceiling, the gilt gold painted columns and colourful biblical scenes set in circular motifs which had the feel of a gorgeously decorative French carousel.
Indeed the church had a gloriously celebratory look to it, inside and out, and its central unsupported dome swirled with angels and the holy family joyous at the resurrection.
Pitched up in parking for motorhomes outside a campsite in Lechbruck, it was simply too hot to do nothing so we got on the bikes in a bid to create some breeze.
It was to be our third and final ‘last day of summer’ having enjoyed the advertised season’s end in the Czech Republic, Austria and now in Germany!
We cycled along the Lech and discovered Prem, a hill top village of traditional farmhouses that were huge in scale being built alongside stabling for the numerous dairy cattle. The air smelled warmly of animals and fodder as we scooted up and over the hill to re-join the river via an ambiguously signposted (and enjoyably speedy) trail through woodlands that was better suited to teenage BMXers.
We emerged below an EDF Kraftwerk and gigantic dam across the Lech, its gorgeous blue water invitingly shining in the reservoir, but horrifying signs warned of dangerous depths and the power of the current created by the gigantic energy-creating machinery underneath the tranquil surface.
Cycling across the dam to cut back onto the townside of the Lech we passed through fields bathing in the last of the year’s hot sunshine, and sang along to ‘das Ellie Goulding’ blaring from the speakers of a dairy farm, before joining early evening drinkers at a riverside bar.
The mood ahead of a holiday weekend was celebratory and after a glass of cold local pils we hastened back to Bertha and got the cadac out for to cook off enough fresh veggies and meat for the next three days of meals.
A tiredly contented night’s sleep was broken overnight by a loud and insistent deep humming noise. We imagined it to be the Kraftwerk, such was its machine-like growl.
Early the next morning we discovered our new neighbour to be the most ludicrously large and overbearing ‘wohnmobile’ we have ever seen. The noise was its air conditioning system. The owner was just about five foot. Words defy.
To salve grumpy moods we tucked into a breakfast of hot pumpkin bread toast and the freshest eggs from happy hens at Bad Tölz … and half-way through couldn’t resist a photo for the memories!
