Potsdam • Sachsenhausen Memorial and Museum • Wittenberg
Sachsenhausen Memorial and Museum
While you could spend days in Berlin and not run out of things to do, a few worthwhile side-trips are within an hour of downtown. Frederick the Great’s opulent palace playground at Potsdam is a hit with those who enjoy ornate interiors and pretty parks; the town also has a fun-to-explore center and some interesting Cold War sights. On the opposite side of Berlin—and the sightseeing spectrum—the Sachsenhausen Memorial and Museum commemorates the tens of thousands of prisoners who died at this concentration camp during the Holocaust. And for a small-town experience—in a pleasant village that packs a huge historical wallop—head 45 minutes to Wittenberg, where Martin Luther famously nailed his 95 Theses to the church door.
Squeezed between the Wannsee and a lush park strewn with the escapist whimsies of Frederick the Great, the sleepy town of Potsdam has long been Berlin’s holiday retreat. While Potsdam’s palaces are impressive, they don’t quite crack Europe’s top 10. But they are your best opportunity to get a taste of Prussia’s Hohenzollern royalty (though Charlottenburg Palace, in Berlin proper, is easier to reach—see here).
Beyond these royal retreats, Potsdam is simply enjoyable—a swanky bedroom community, where, thanks to its aristocratic heritage, everything seems bigger and better than it needs to be. Cold War buffs might skip Frederick’s palaces entirely, and focus on Cecilienhof (site of the famous post-WWII Potsdam Conference) and nearby KGB Prison Memorial. And anyone can enjoy prowling Potsdam’s well-manicured town center. Don’t come here just for the palaces—come here to escape the city, and to spend a sunny day exploring a stately burg and its picnic-friendly park.
Potsdam is about 15 miles southwest of Berlin, about an hour away by train. You have two easy train options for zipping from the city to Potsdam’s Hauptbahnhof, both covered by a Berlin transit day pass (€7.40, with zones ABC; if you have a pass for just zones AB, buy a €1.60 Anschlussfahrausweis/extension ticket to get here—valid for 2 hours).
Direct Regional Express/RE1 trains depart twice hourly from three different Berlin stations: Zoologischer Garten (20 minutes to Potsdam), Hauptbahnhof (30 minutes), and Friedrichstrasse (35 minutes; any train to Brandenburg or Magdeburg stops in Potsdam). Note: Some RE1 trains continue past the Potsdam Hauptbahnhof to a stop called Park Sanssouci, which is closer to the New Palace.
The S-Bahn is slightly slower (30-50 minutes depending on starting point), but more frequent (6/hour) and handier from some areas of Berlin. The S7 line goes directly to Potsdam from Alexanderplatz, Hackescher Markt, Friedrichstrasse, Berlin Hauptbahnhof, Zoologischer Garten, Savignyplatz, and other city-center stations. Additional stations—Oranienburger Strasse, Brandenburger Tor, and Potsdamer Platz—are served by the S1 line, which you can ride to the end of the line at Wannsee, cross the platform to an S7 train, and ride it three more stops to Potsdam.
Avid cyclists can rent a bike in Berlin, take it on the train (€1.90 extra), and combine a visit to Potsdam with an enjoyable ride along skinny lakes and through green parklands back into the city.
Potsdam’s main draw are its palaces—particularly Sanssouci, which takes about an hour to visit (plus a potential wait for your entry time). Try to arrive at the palace by 10:00 to avoid a long line. Regardless of when you get to Potsdam, make a beeline to Sanssouci to secure your entry time so you can plan the rest of your day. If you’d like to see more, you can add on the New Palace (another hour, usually little or no wait). The two palaces are connected by a huge park—it’s a pleasant 30-minute walk or a 10-minute bus ride between them. If you arrive early enough to get in right away, you can visit both palaces in as little as 3-4 hours.
Potsdam may inspire you to stretch your visit to a full day. In good weather, consider simply hanging out and exploring Sanssouci Park. Cold War enthusiasts can head to Cecilienhof and the KGB Prison Memorial. And the town center warrants a wander—ogle the Alter Markt, consider dipping into the Museum Barberini, or prowl the cobbles of the Dutch Quarter. On your way back to Berlin, you could hop off the train at the Wannsee station and take a boat ride on the lake.
Here are a few other scheduling considerations:
Weekends are particularly busy; consider saving Potsdam for a weekday (noting that Sanssouci Palace is closed on Monday, and the New Palace is closed on Tuesday).
For many, touring both Sanssouci and the New Palace is overkill. Consider doing only the better of the two (Sanssouci), and using the rest of your time for the park or other Potsdam sights. The New Palace’s only advantage is that it’s easier to get into—if you arrive late and Sanssouci is booked solid, the New Palace is a suitable replacement.
Potsdam (pop. 160,000) sits just outside of Berlin’s city limits, on the southern edge of the lake called Wannsee. (During the Cold War, Potsdam was just outside West Berlin—the Wall ran right along the lakeshore.) The main train station (Potsdam Hauptbahnhof) is at the southeastern corner of the city center. Sights cluster in three areas, each a long walk or a short bus ride apart: the city center, just across the bridge from the train station; Park Sanssouci, a vast royal park at the western edge of town, peppered with grand Hohenzollern palaces (Sanssouci and New Palace are best); and, to the north, the park called Neuer Garten, where Cecilienhof Palace looks out over Wannsee.
A handy TI is inside Potsdam’s main train station (near track 7, Mon-Sat 9:30-18:00, closed Sun, tel. 0331/2755-8899, www.potsdamtourismus.de). The next handiest location faces the old main square, Alter Markt, just across the bridge from the station—below the giant church dome (Mon-Sat 9:30-19:00, Sun 10:00-16:00, Humboldtstrasse 1). The third location—at Luisenplatz, on the eastern end of Sanssouci Park—is less convenient (Mon-Sat 9:30-18:00, Sun 10:00-16:00, closed Sun Nov-March, Brandenburger Strasse 3).
At the Main Station (Potsdam Hauptbahnhof): This station has ample shops and services. On arrival, to take the bus or tram to the palaces (easiest) head out the exit past track 4, labeled Friedrich-Engels-Strasse; here you’ll find the tram stops, then the bus stops.
To walk into town—or rent a bike—use the opposite door, past track 7, labeled Babelsberger Strasse. Exiting, turn left to find the bike-rental office. To walk, just keep going, then turn right at the next traffic light. You’ll cross a bridge and head straight for Alter Markt (with the huge dome).
At Sanssouci Park Station: From this smaller station, simply walk straight out and head up the boulevard called Am Neuen Palais, with the big park on your right. In about 10 minutes, you’ll reach the New Palace.
By Bike: Flat Potsdam is ideal by bike, and from the station it’s a pleasant and well-signed 20-minute ride to Sanssouci Palace. There’s one caveat: Within Sanssouci Park you’re restricted to a bike path between the palaces; you can’t even walk with a bike anywhere else in the park. At the main train station, Radstation/Pedales rents bikes and provides a map showing recommended routes (Mon-Fri 7:00-19:00, Sat 9:30-18:00, closed Sun, out the Babelsberg Strasse exit and on the left, tel. 0331/7480-057). On Sundays in summer (April-Oct), they may have another location under tracks 6/7.
By Bus or Tram: Potsdam’s public transit is well-designed for connecting most points of interest. Remember that Potsdam is covered by a Berlin ticket with zones ABC, but not by one with just zones AB. You can either buy an Anschlussfahrausweis/extension ticket (€1.60, each one valid 2 hours), or buy individual tickets covering Potsdam transit: €2.10 per ride, €4.20 all day (buy tickets from machine on board). These are the buses you’re most likely to take and the lane from which they depart at the main train station:
Bus #695—essentially made for tourists (and therefore packed)—cruises through Potsdam’s appealing town center, stopping first at Sanssouci, then at the New Palace (3/hour, 15-20 minutes, leaves from lane 4).
Bus #X15, which runs only on summer weekends, makes a beeline to Sanssouci Palace (3/hour, mid-April-Oct Sat-Sun only, 10 minutes, leaves from lane 4).
Buses #606 and #605 work only if you’re going directly to the New Palace (3/hour, 10-15 minutes, from lane 4).
Bus #603 goes up to Cecilienhof Palace, then loops back down past the KGB Prison Memorial (Persiusstrasse stop) and the Dutch Quarter (Hebbelstrasse) before returning to the station (3/hour, 15 minutes to Cecilienhof, from lane 6).
Tram #91 is worth considering if you’re up for a scenic walk through the terraced palace gardens: Get off at Luisenplatz, then walk 20 minutes through the park, which lets you enjoy a classic view of Sanssouci Palace (3/hour, 8 minutes, leaves from lane 1).
By Foot: It’s a long (but scenic) 45-minute walk from the station to Sanssouci Palace (get directions and pick up a map at the TI; exit the station on the opposite side from the bus/tram stops). Tram #91, described above, shaves off the least interesting part.
By Taxi: A taxi can help link up otherwise difficult-to-connect sights (for example, €15 between the New Palace and Cecilienhof—otherwise a complex bus connection).
Various bus tours (including hop-on, hop-off options) conveniently connect this town’s spread-out sights. Pick up brochures at the TI or check their website (www.potsdamtourismus.de).
Original Berlin Walks and Brewer’s Berlin Tours offer inexpensive all-day tours from Berlin to Potsdam—focusing on the park and the palace exteriors, but not actually going inside the palaces as a group (€15-17, admissions and public transportation not included; for contact info see here).
FREDERICK THE GREAT’S PALACES AT SANSSOUCI PARK
Bornstedt Royal Estate (Krongut Bornstedt)
Dutch Quarter (Holländisches Viertel)
CECILIENHOF PALACE AND THE NEUER GARTEN
▲KGB Prison Memorial at Leistikowstrasse (Gedenkstätte Leistikowstrasse Potsdam)
Potsdam’s sights cluster in three areas: Sanssouci Park; the city center; and Neuer Garten, with Cecilienhof.
The dynamic Frederick the Great put Prussia on the map in the 18th century with his merciless military prowess. Yet he also had tender affection for the finer things in life: art, architecture, gardens, literature, and other distinguished pursuits. During his reign, Frederick built an impressive ensemble of palaces and other grand buildings around Sanssouci Park, with the two top palaces located at either end. Frederick’s small, super-Rococo Sanssouci Palace is dazzling, and his massive New Palace was built to wow guests and disprove rumors that Prussia was running out of money after the costly Seven Years’ War.
Background: While the palaces are impressive, the included audioguides do a terrible job of bringing them to life (focusing more on the opulent furnishings of each room than on the dynamic rulers who lived in them). It’s essential to read the “Prussian King Frederick the Great” sidebar (on here) before your visit to better understand the historical context.
Getting Between the Palaces: It’s about a 30-minute walk between Sanssouci and the New Palace, and about 10 minutes by bike. Otherwise you can hop on bus #695, which takes you between the palaces in either direction (covered by a cheap €1.50 Kurzstrecke ticket, as well as by a Berlin transit pass with zones ABC). If you do walk, you’ll find the park wilder, more forested, and less carefully manicured than those in other big-league European palace complexes (such as Versailles or Vienna’s Schönbrunn). The park’s €2 suggested donation gets you a helpful map.
Combo-Ticket: The €19 combo-ticket covers nearly all the royal buildings in the park. It’s worthwhile only if you’re visiting Sanssouci, the New Palace, and at least one other sight (for most visitors, those two are more than enough). The combo-ticket is sold online and at the ticket offices at Sanssouci Palace and the New Palace. Buying online costs a few euros extra (€21 total), but allows you to reserve a coveted time slot for Sanssouci, saving you time and stress—since it’s the only way to book ahead.
Touring the Palaces: There are no English guided tours. You’ll visit both palaces with an (included but inferior) audioguide. During the summer season (April-Oct), visitors are allowed to see each palace at their own pace. Off-season, you’ll be accompanied either by an escort or by a German-speaking guide, who will herd your group from room to room.
Information: Tel. 0331/969-4200, www.spsg.de.
Sans souci means “without a care,” and this was the carefree summer home of Frederick the Great (built 1745-1747). Of all the palatial buildings scattered around Potsdam, this was his actual residence. While the palace is small and the audioguide does little to capture the personality of its former resident, it’s worth seeing for its opulence.
Cost and Hours: €12, €19 combo-ticket includes New Palace and other sights, Tue-Sun 10:00-18:00, Nov-March until 17:00, closed Mon year-round.
Crowd-Beating Tips: Your ticket comes with an appointed entry time for the main living quarters. Tickets are sold for the same day only, and only in person; an electronic board above the ticket desk counts down the number of available tickets per time slot. (The only way to get a reserved entry time in advance is to buy a combo-ticket online, explained earlier). To get right in, arrive by 10:00, when the ticket office opens. After 11:00, plan to stand in line to buy your ticket. You’ll probably have to wait for your entry time, too—usually an hour or two later. Pass this time visiting the Ladies’ Wing (open only on weekends in summer) and the Palace Kitchen or by exploring the sprawling gardens. If you have a very long wait, zip over to visit the New Palace, then circle back to Sanssouci.
Visiting the Palace: Your ticket covers three parts—the Ladies’ Wing (to the left as you face the palace from the front/garden side); the Palace Kitchen (to the right); and the living quarters and festival halls (the main, central part). You can visit the first two sights anytime, but you must report to the main part of the palace at the time noted on your ticket (where you’ll receive your audioguide; tour takes about 40 minutes).
The Ladies’ Wing (Damenflügel), worth a visit only if you have time to kill (and maybe not even then), contains cluttered apartments with cutesy decor for ladies-in-waiting and servants. The servants’ quarters upstairs have been turned into a painting gallery.
At the Palace Kitchen (Schlossküche), see well-preserved mid-19th-century cooking equipment. Hike down the tight spiral staircase to the wine cellar, which features an exhibit about the grapes that were grown on the terraced vineyards out front.
The Main Palace was where Frederick the Great spent his summers. You’ll stroll through the classic Rococo interior, where golden grapevines climb the walls and frame the windows. First explore the Royal Apartments, containing one of Frederick’s three libraries (he found it easier to buy extra copies of books rather than move them around), the “study bedroom” where he lived and worked, and the chair where he died. The domed, central Marble Hall resembles the Pantheon in Rome (on a smaller scale), with an oblong oculus, inlaid marble floors, and Corinthian columns made of Carrara marble.
Finally, you’ll visit the guest rooms, most of which exit straight out onto the delightful terrace. Each room is decorated differently: Chinese, Italian, and so on; the niche at the back was for a bed. The happiest is the yellow Voltaire Room, where realistic animals and flowers dangle from the walls and ceiling. As you exit (through the servants’ quarters), keep an eye out for the giant portrait of Frederick by Andy Warhol.
This gigantic showpiece palace (with more than 200 rooms) is, in some ways, more impressive than the intimate Sanssouci. Frederick the Great built the New Palace (1763-1769), but he rarely stayed here—it was mostly used to host guests and dazzle visiting dignitaries. The palace has close to 1,000 rooms, but its big attractions are the recently restored, lavishly decorated Grotto Hall and Marble Hall—you’ll see these, and several other fine apartments, on the one-hour “Grand Tour.” Unlike at Sanssouci, there’s rarely a long wait to buy tickets or enter. The palace is putting the finishing touches on a long-term renovation, so you may find a few rooms closed when you visit.
Cost and Hours: €8, €19 combo-ticket includes Sanssouci and other sights; Wed-Mon 10:00-18:00, Nov-March until 17:00, closed Tue year-round. Buy your ticket at the visitors center/ticket office near the bus stop—where you can also use the WC (none at the palace itself) and watch an eight-minute introductory film (alternating in German and English)—then head to the palace at the appointed time to meet your escort and pick up your audioguide.
Visiting the Palace: The one-hour “Grand Tour” takes you through the palace’s ornate halls. On the main floor, the highlight is the Grotto Hall, whose marble walls are encrusted with a quarter of a million seashells, semiprecious stones, and fossils. From there, continue on through the eight suites of the Lower Princes’ Apartments, which accommodated guests and royal family members. In the 19th and early 20th century, German emperors Frederick III (different from the earlier Frederick II, who built the place) and Wilhelm II (the last kaiser) resided here. The Gentlemen’s Bedchamber holds the red-canopy bed where Kaiser Frederick III died in 1888. The Ladies’ Bedchamber is a reminder that noblemen and their wives slept separately.
Upstairs, the Upper Princes’ Quarters include a small blue-tiled bathroom that was installed for Kaiser Wilhelm II, and a bedchamber shared by a married couple—my, how times have changed. You’ll also find Wilhelm’s bedroom, as well as a small painting gallery with portraits of Frederick the Great and Russia’s Catherine the Great (who was actually a German princess). The grand finale is the sumptuous, 52-foot-high Marble Hall, with its dramatic ceiling painting (of the Greek myth of Ganymede) and floors inlaid with Silesian marble. Through the windows, enjoy views of the gardens.
The King’s Apartments: The “Grand Tour” described above is enough for most. But Frederick completists can ask about the King’s Apartments, which can be seen only on a guided tour in German (and may be closed for renovation).
The two main palaces (Sanssouci and the New Palace) are just the beginning. Sprawling Sanssouci Park contains a variety of other palaces and royal buildings, many of which you can enter. Popular options include the Italian-style Orangery (the last and largest palace in the park, may be closed for renovation; when open, its five royal rooms can be toured only with a German guide, plus a view tower); the New Chambers (a royal guesthouse); the Chinese House; and other viewpoints, such as the Klausberg Belvedere and the Norman Tower.
Cost and Hours: Each has its own entry fee (€2-4; all but Belvedere covered by €19 combo-ticket) and hours, some open weekends only (get a complete list from Potsdam TI or palace ticket office).
Designed to look like an Italian village, this warehouse-like complex once provided the royal palaces with food and other supplies. Today the estate houses the Hof Brauerei (brewery and distillery), which delivers fine brews and (sometimes) schnapps, as it has since 1689. The brewpub’s $$ restaurant is a good place for lunch, serving local specialties. The kid-friendly grounds also house a wood-fired bakery with fresh bread and pastries. You can watch hatmakers, candlemakers, coopers, potters, and glassmakers produce (and sell) their wares using traditional techniques.
Cost and Hours: Free to enter except during special events, Mon-Fri 12:00-18:00, Sat-Sun from 11:00, restaurant serves food until 22:00, Ribbeckstrasse 6, tel. 0331/550-650, www.krongut-bornstedt.de.
Getting There: From Sanssouci, walk toward the windmill, then follow the street to the right (An der Orangerie) about 500 yards.
The easy-to-stroll town center has pedestrianized shopping streets lined with boutiques and eateries. For a small town, this was once a cosmopolitan place: Frederick the Great imported some very talented people.
Potsdam’s “Old Market Square” is marked by the massive dome of the Nikolaikirche—visible from all over town. This square, always pleasant, has been further rejuvenated by the opening of the new Museum Barberini. It’s worth a quick stroll through here to ogle the striking Hohenzollern architecture and consider your sightseeing options.
Stand in the middle of the square, facing the giant church (and the obelisk in front of it). Do a clockwise spin-tour to get oriented:
The oversized Nikolaikirche, designed by Frederick the Great’s favorite architect, Karl Friedrich Schinkel, is an icon of Potsdam. Step inside to see its austere, very Protestant, Neoclassical interior—a world of perfectly formed domes and Corinthian columns.
To the right sits the Old Town Hall (Altes Rathaus), with its frilly cupola. Immediately next door is the Potsdam Museum, showcasing local history.
Farther to the right, the Museum Barberini opened to acclaim in early 2017. This state-of-the-art museum, filling a beautifully restored old building, shows off temporary exhibits of world-class artists. Now Berlin art snobs have even more reason to zip out to Potsdam. Check what’s on—for art lovers, a good exhibit here could be worth ▲▲ (€14, Wed-Mon 11:00-19:00, first Thu until 21:00, closed Tue, audioguide-€2, www.museum-barberini.com).
Farther to the right is Humboldtstrasse, with the TI (and the quickest route to the train station).
Next is the Stadtschloss/Ladtag. You’re just barely outside of “Land Berlin,” a city-state that constitutes one of Germany’s 16 states (Länder). Potsdam is the capital of Brandenburg, the Land that completely surrounds Berlin—and this fine courtyard is Brandenburg’s “state capitol.”
And finally, spinning back toward the church, you see...ugh. Eyesore communist concrete. Remember, Potsdam was part of East Germany. And, like all DDR cities, it mingles its historic beauty with communist-era blight. This unfortunate complex is slated to be redeveloped—and may already be torn down by the time you read this.
For a quick visit to the Low Countries, walk about 10 minutes north of the Alter Markt until you see pretty brick gables. Frederick the Great imported Dutch merchants and architects to build this gingerbread-cute little swath of town, radiating out from the intersection of Leiblstrasse and Benkertstrasse. It’s very touristy today, with lots of boutiques, restaurants, and cafés (some selling Dutch pancakes and poffertjes).
Potsdam seems to have a museum for every interest, including a good film museum and a museum of Prussian history (both near Breite Strasse). Skip Potsdam’s much-promoted Wannsee boat rides, which are exceedingly dull. (If you’re in a mood to relax on a lake, consider stopping off at Wannsee for some beach time on your way home to Berlin—see “Near Potsdam,” later).
At the north end of town, another (more modest but still pleasant) park, called Neuer Garten, faces Wannsee. This is where you’ll find two stirring sights for those interested in Cold War history, and a fine brewery.
Getting There: This area is connected to the center by bus #603, which departs from the main train station and stops at several points downtown on its way up to the park. For the palace, use the Schloss Cecilienhof stop; for the KGB sites, use Glumestrasse (on northbound buses) or Periusstrasse (on southbound buses—returning from the palace to the center). On the way back to town, bus #603 also stops near the Dutch Quarter (Hebbelstrasse)—if you have time, hop off and explore this area, then walk back to Alter Markt and the train station. Bus line #603 comes closest to bus line #695 (serving Sanssouci Park) at the Reiterweg stop. The stops are a long block apart, across the bottom of the long park, making the transfer between these lines a little tricky (consider a taxi instead).
This early-20th-century villa was the site of the historic Potsdam Conference for two weeks in the summer of 1945. For Cold War buffs, it’s worth ▲▲. Touring the rooms with an audioguide, you’ll hear how, during those meetings, Harry Truman, Winston Churchill, and Joseph Stalin negotiated how best to punish Germany for dragging Europe through another devastating war. It was here that the postwar map of Europe was officially drawn, setting the stage for a protracted Cold War that would drag on for more than four decades. There’s rarely a wait, and it pairs well with a drink or meal at the fine Meierei brewery and a visit to the KGB Prison Memorial—each less than a 10-minute walk away.
Cost and Hours: €6, includes audioguide, Tue-Sun 10:00-18:00, Nov-March until 17:00, closed Mon year-round, tel. 0331/969-4200, www.spsg.de.
Visiting the Palace: This Tudor-style villa—designed to appear smaller and more modest than it actually is—was built in 1912 to house Crown Prince Wilhelm and his wife Cecilie, who would have ruled Germany, had Kaiser Wilhelm II not lost World War I. For those into palace architecture, it’s certainly less striking than Potsdam’s other palaces. The real draw here is the 1945 history. You’ll tour the palace using an excellent 45-minute audioguide, which (unlike the other palace audioguides) does a marvelous job of re-animating history. You’ll hear all about those tense days in July 1945, including sound bites from meeting participants. You’ll see the private offices of Stalin, Churchill, and Truman, as well as the grand meeting hall with the round table where they faced off to negotiate. It’s both chilling and fitting to think that, just 20 years later, the Berlin Wall would run through the park right in front of the palace—cutting off idyllic views of the Wannsee. This was also where Truman issued the “Potsdam Declaration”—demanding that Japan surrender to end the war once and for all. Japan refused—and the US dropped atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Eating: The $$ Meierei (“Creamery”) brewery, in the park near Cecilienhof, is an ideal spot for good beer and tasty food in an idyllic setting. Choose between its crowded interior or its fine beer garden, filling a terrace with tranquil views over the lake (Tue-Sun 12:00-22:00, closed Mon, less than a 10-minute stroll north of Cecilienhof—follow Meierei signs to Im Neuen Garten 10, tel. 0331/704-3211). The big open field to the right of the restaurant used to be part of the Berlin Wall.
Standing in stark contrast to all of Potsdam’s pretty palaces and Hohenzollern bombast, this crumbling concrete prison has been turned into a memorial and documentation center to the Cold War victims of USSR “counterintelligence.”
Cost and Hours: Free, Tue-Sun 14:00-18:00, Nov-March 13:00-17:00, closed Mon year-round, Leistikowstrasse 1, tel. 0331/201-1540, www.gedenkstaette-leistikowstrasse.de.
Visiting the Memorial: On the nondescript Leistikowstrasse, a few steps from the lakeside park, the KGB established a base in August 1945 (mere days after the Potsdam Conference), which remained active until the fall of the USSR in 1991. The centerpiece of their “secret city” was this transit-and-remand prison, in which enemies of the Soviet regime were held and punished in horrible conditions before entering the USSR “justice” system—to be tried, executed, or shipped off to the notorious gulag labor camps. While most prisoners were Russian citizens, until 1955 the prison also held Germans who were essentially kidnapped by the USSR in retribution for their wartime activities.
From the blocky modern building at the corner, you’ll enter the complex and head inside the prison, where today the hallways and cells are an eerie world of peeling paint, faded linoleum, and rusted hinges. The top floor hosts a well-presented permanent exhibit in English, explaining the history of the building (which was a vicarage before being seized by the Soviets) and profiling several of the individuals who were held here. Out in the yard, look for the bronze model that illustrates how this prison was just one part of an entire neighborhood of KGB-operated facilities—a “secret city” in the heart of one of East Germany’s proudest cities.
Movie buffs might already know that the nearby suburb of Babelsberg (just east of Potsdam) hosts the biggest film studio in Germany, where classics such as The Blue Angel and Metropolis, as well as more recent films The Reader and Inglourious Basterds, were filmed (for visitor info, see www.filmpark-babelsberg.de).
To see Berliners at play on a hot summer day, consider hopping off the train at Wannsee. This big lake is a popular near-the-city getaway for urbanites who appreciate strolling, sunbathing, splashing, and See-faring on lazy cruises. As you go by on the train, you’ll pass pea-patch gardens dotted with simple country homes, called Datsche—a Russian tradition (allowing even humble workers to escape periodically to the countryside) that caught on here in DDR times. These little pleasure shantytowns, while extremely basic, come with warm memories for many Berliners.
Nearby and accessible by ferry is Peacock Island, a favorite getaway where colorful birds run free around a palace built by Kaiser Wilhelm II. Modern art fans can also consider touring the Liebermann-Villa, showcasing the home and paintings of early-20th-century painter Max Liebermann, a founding member of the Berlin Secession movement (www.liebermann-villa.de).
Like most places in this part of Germany, romantic lake Wannsee has a sinister infamy: It was the site of the 1942 Wannsee Conference, when Nazi officials came up with their “Final Solution” to the “Jewish Question”: wholesale extermination of all Jews.
About 20 miles north of downtown Berlin, the small town of Oranienburg was the site of one of the most notorious Nazi concentration camps. Sachsenhausen’s proximity to the capital gave it special status as the place to train camp guards and test new procedures. It was also the site of the Third Reich’s massive counterfeiting operation to destabilize Great Britain by flooding the monetary system with forged pound notes. Today the Sachsenhausen Memorial and Museum (Gedenkstätte und Museum Sachsenhausen), worth ▲▲, honors the camp’s victims and survivors, and teaches visitors about the atrocities that took place here.
Take a train to the town of Oranienburg (20-50 minutes, covered by zone ABC ticket); from there, it’s a quick trip by bus or taxi to the camp, or a 20-minute walk. The whole journey takes just over an hour each way.
From Berlin Hauptbahnhof, a regional train speeds to Oranienburg (hourly, 25 minutes). Or you can take the S-Bahn (S1) line from various stops in downtown Berlin, including Potsdamer Platz, Brandenburger Tor, Friedrichstrasse, and Oranienburger Strasse (4/hour, 45-50 minutes).
At Oranienburg, the bus to the memorial departs from lane 4, right in front of the train station (on weekdays, hourly bus #804 is timed to meet most regional trains; on weekends it runs only every 2 hours, and doesn’t sync with S-Bahn arrivals; direction: Malz; bus #821 also possible, runs 5/day, direction: Tiergarten; €1.70, covered by Berlin transit day pass for zones ABC, get off at Gedenkstätte stop). You can also take a taxi (€8, ask for the Gedenkstätte—geh-DENK-shteh-teh).
To walk 20 minutes to the memorial, turn right from the train station and head up Stralsunder Strasse for about two blocks. Turn right under the railroad trestle onto Bernauer Strasse, following signs for Gedenkstätte Sachsenhausen. At the traffic light, turn left onto André-Pican-Strasse, which becomes Strasse der Einheit. After two blocks, turn right on Strasse der Nationen, which leads right to the camp.
Make your pilgrimage to Sachsenhausen any day during the summer. The museums are closed on Monday from mid-October to mid-March (the grounds are open daily year-round). You’ll need at least three hours to appreciate the many worthwhile exhibits here. Factoring in transit time, leave yourself at least five hours round-trip from central Berlin.
Cost and Hours: Free, daily 8:30-18:00, mid-Oct-mid-March until 16:30, on Mon off-season only the grounds and visitors center are open, Strasse der Nationen 22.
Information: Tel. 03301/2000, www.gedenkstaette-sachsenhausen.de.
Visitor Information: The map in this book is sufficient, but the €0.50 map sold at the visitors center is worthwhile for the extra background information it includes. Skip the overlong €3 audioguide and instead make use of this chapter’s self-guided tour and the ample English information posted within the camp.
Services: The visitors center has WCs, a bookshop, and a helpful information desk.
Tours from Berlin: A tour helps you understand the camp’s complicated and important story. Virtually all walking-tour companies in Berlin offer side-trips to Sachsenhausen (meet in the city, then ride together by train to Oranienburg). The round-trip takes about six hours, much of which is spent in transit—but your time at the camp is made very meaningful by your guide’s commentary.
Check walking-tour companies’ websites or compare brochures to find an itinerary that fits your schedule (typically €14, April-Oct daily at 10:00, less frequent off-season). Options include Original Berlin Walks (www.berlinwalks.de) and Insider Tour (www.insidertour.com). Don’t book a tour on an off-season Monday, when the grounds are open, but not the museum exhibits.
Eating: Pack a lunch or buy one en route, as dining choices at the camp are minimal. The little “Info Café” inside the camp offers small snacks, and Bistro To Go, just outside the visitors center, serves basic fare (wurst, soup).
Completed in July of 1936, Sachsenhausen was the first concentration camp built under SS chief Heinrich Himmler. The triangle-shaped grounds, contained by three walls, enabled observation of the entire camp from a single point, the main guard tower. The design was intended to be a model for other camps, but it had a critical flaw that prevented its widespread adoption: It was very difficult to expand without interfering with sight lines.
Sachsenhausen was not, strictly speaking, a “death camp” for mass murder (like Auschwitz); it was a labor camp, intended to wring hard work out of the prisoners. Many toiled in a brickworks, producing materials to be used in architect Albert Speer’s grandiose plans for erecting new buildings all over Berlin.
Between 1936 and 1945, about 200,000 prisoners did time at Sachsenhausen; about 50,000 died here, while numerous others were transported elsewhere to be killed (in 1942, many of Sachsenhausen’s Jews were taken to Auschwitz). Though it was designed to hold 10,000 prisoners, by the end of its functional life the camp had up to 38,000 people. In the spring of 1945, knowing that the Red Army was approaching, guards took 35,000 able-bodied prisoners on a death march, leading them into the forest for seven days and nights with no rations. Rather than “wasting” bullets to kill them, SS troops hoped that the prisoners would expire from exhaustion. On the eighth day, after 6,000 had died, the guards abandoned the group in the wilderness. When Soviet troops liberated Sachsenhausen on April 22, 1945, they discovered an additional 3,000 prisoners who had been too weak to walk and were left there to die (all but 300 survived).
Just three months after the war, Sachsenhausen was converted into Soviet Special Camp No. 7 for the USSR’s own prisoners. It was a notorious “silent camp,” where prisoners would disappear—allowed no contact with the outside world and their imprisonment officially unacknowledged. The prisoners were Nazis as well as anti-Stalin Russians. By the time the camp closed in 1950, 12,000 more people had died here.
In 1961, Sachsenhausen became the first former concentration camp to be turned into a memorial. The East German government created the memorial mostly for propaganda purposes, to deflect attention from the controversial construction of the Berlin Wall and to exalt the USSR as the valiant antifascist liberators of the camp and all of Germany.
Since the end of the DDR, Sachsenhausen has been redeveloped into a true memorial, with updated museum exhibits and an emphasis on preservation—documenting and sharing the story of what happened here. While difficult to take in, as with all concentration camp memorials, the intention of Sachsenhausen is to share its story and lessons—and prevent this type of brutality from ever happening again.
SELF-GUIDED TOURThe camp’s various exhibits are scattered throughout the grounds in various buildings, and offer more information than you probably have time to absorb. This outline covers the key parts of your visit.
In the courtyard next to the visitors center, a model of the camp illustrates its unique triangular layout. Guards stationed in tower A (at the main gate) could see everything going on inside those three walls. Along the left (west) side of the triangle is the crematorium, called Station Z. Outside the main triangle are the workshops, factories, and extra barracks that were added when the camp ran out of room.
Walk up the dusty lane called Camp Street. On the right is the SS officers’ R&R building, nicknamed the “Green Monster,” where prisoners dressed in nice clothes were forced to wait on their keepers. Officials mostly chose Jehovah’s Witnesses for this duty, because they had a strong pacifist code and could be trusted not to attempt to harm their captors.
A left turn through the fence takes you into the courtyard in front of guard tower A. The clock on the tower is frozen at 11:07—the exact time that the Red Army liberated the camp. The building on the right—the New Museum—has an interesting DDR-era stained-glass window inside, as well as temporary exhibits and a small café.
Go through the gate cruelly marked Arbeit Macht Frei—“Work will set you free.”
Entering the triangular field, you can see that almost none of the original buildings still stand. Following the war, locals salvaged the barracks here for much-needed building materials. Tracing the perimeter, notice the electric fence and barbed wire. A few feet in front of the wall is a gravel track called the neutral zone—any prisoner setting foot here would be shot. This became a common way for prisoners to attempt suicide. Guards quickly caught on: If they sensed a suicide attempt, they’d shoot to maim instead of kill. It was typical upside-down Nazi logic: Those who wanted to live would die, and those who wanted to die would live.
Every morning, after a 4:15 wake-up call, prisoners would scramble to eat, bathe, and dress in time to assemble in the roll-call grounds in front of the guard tower by 5:00. Dressed in their thin, striped pajama-like uniforms and wooden clogs, prisoners would line up while guards, in long coats and accompanied by angry dogs, barked orders and accounted for each person, including those who had died in the barracks overnight. It could take hours, in any weather. A single misbehaving prisoner would bring about punishment for all others. One day, after a prisoner escaped, SS officer Rudolf Höss (who later went on to run Auschwitz-Birkenau) forced the entire population of the camp to stand here for 15 hours in a foot of snow and subzero temperatures. A thousand people died.
To the far right from the entrance, the wooden barracks (with good museum displays) are reconstructed from original timbers. Barrack 38 focuses on the Jewish experience at Sachsenhausen, as well as the general mistreatment of German Jews under the Nazis (including anti-Semitic propaganda). Barrack 39 explains everyday life, with stories following 20 individual internees. You’ll see how prisoners lived: long rows of bunks, benches for taking paltry meals, latrines crammed wall-to-wall with toilets, and communal fountains for washing. Inmates would jockey for access to these facilities. The strongest, meanest, most aggressive prisoners—often here because they had been convicted of a violent crime—would be named Kapo, the head of the barrack (to discourage camaraderie, the worst prisoners, rather than the best, were “promoted”). Like at many other camps, the camp leaders at Sachsenhausen ran a system of organized rape, whereby they brought in inmates from the women’s-only Ravensbrück concentration camp and forced them to “reward good prisoners” at Sachsenhausen.
Next to the barracks is the camp prison, where political prisoners or out-of-line inmates were sent. It was run not by the SS, but by the Gestapo (secret police), who would torture captives to extract information. Other prisoners didn’t know exactly what went on here, but they could hear screams from inside and knew it was no place they wanted to be. This was also where the Nazis held special hostages, including three Allied airmen who had participated in a bold escape from a Nazi prisoner-of-war camp (the basis for The Great Escape; they later managed to escape from Sachsenhausen as well, before being recaptured) and Joseph Stalin’s son, Yakov Dzhugashvili, who had been captured during the fighting at Stalingrad. (The Nazis offered to exchange the young man for five German officers. Stalin refused, and soon after, Yakov died here under mysterious circumstances.) The cells contain exhibits about the prisoners and the methods used by their captors.
Just outside the back of the building stand three posts (out of an original 15) with iron pegs near the top. Guards cruelly executed people by tying their hands behind their backs, then hanging them on these pegs by their wrists until they died—a medieval method called strappado.
Walk around the inner semicircle toward the buildings in the middle of the camp. On this “boot-testing track,” prisoners were forced to put on boots two sizes too small and walk in a circle on uneven ground all day, supposedly to “test” the shoes for fighting at Stalingrad.
The rectangles of stones show where each of the original barrack buildings once stood. At the center, a marker represents the location of the gallows, where prisoners would be publicly executed as a deterrent to others.
In the middle of the triangle, on the right, is the kitchen building, with exhibits that trace the chronological history of the camp. You’ll learn how Sachsenhausen was built by prisoners and see original artifacts, including the gallows, a bunk from the barracks, uniforms, and so on. There are also photos, quotes, and a 22-minute film.
Head back to the far end of the camp, which is dominated by the towering, 130-foot-tall, 1961 communist DDR memorial to the victims of Sachsenhausen. The 18 triangles at the top are red, the color designated for political prisoners (to the communists, they were more worthy of honor than the other victims who died here). At the base of the monument, two prisoners are being liberated by a noble Soviet soldier. The prisoners are unrealistically robust, healthy, and optimistic (they will survive and become part of the proud Soviet proletariat!). The podium in front was used by the East German army for speeches and rallies—exploiting Sachsenhausen as a backdrop for their propaganda.
From here, head left and go through the gap in the fence to find the execution trench, used for mass shootings. When this system proved too inefficient, the Nazis built “Station Z,” the nearby crematorium, where they could execute and dispose of prisoners more systematically. Its ruins are inside the white building (prior to the camp’s liberation by Soviet troops, Nazi guards destroyed the crematorium to remove evidence of their crimes).
The crematorium’s ramp took prisoners down into the “infirmary,” while the three steps led up to the dressing room. This is where, on five occasions, the Nazis tested Zyklon-B (the chemical later responsible for killing hundreds of thousands at Auschwitz). Most of the building’s victims died in the room with the double row of bricks (for soundproofing; the Nazis also blasted classical music to mask noise). Victims would report here for a “dental check,” to find out if they had gold or silver teeth that could be taken. They would then stand against the wall to have their height measured—and a guard would shoot them through a small hole in the wall with a single bullet to the back of the skull. (The Nazis found it was easier for guards to carry out their duties if they didn’t have to see their victims face-to-face.)
Bodies were taken to be incinerated in the ovens (which still stand). Notice the statue of the emaciated prisoner—a much more accurate depiction than the one at the DDR monument. Outside, a burial ground is filled with ashes from the crematorium.
Back inside the main part of the camp you can head left, up to the tip of the triangle (behind the big monument) to find a museum about the postwar era, when Sachsenhausen served as a Soviet Special Camp. Nearby is a burial ground for victims of that camp. At this corner of the triangle, the gate in the fence—called tower E—holds a small exhibit about the relationship between the camp and the town of Oranienburg.
Heading back toward the main guard tower, along the wall toward the front corner, are the long, green barracks of the infirmary, used for medical experiments on inmates (as explained by the exhibits inside). This was also where Soviet soldiers found the 3,000 remaining survivors when they liberated the camp. The small building in back was the morgue—Nazis used the long ramp to bring in the day’s bodies via wheelbarrows. Behind that is a field with six stones, each marking 50 bodies for the 300 prisoners who died after the camp was freed.
You need only look at its official name—Lutherstadt Wittenberg—to know this small city’s claim to fame. The adopted hometown of Martin Luther, and the birthplace of his Protestant Reformation, little Wittenberg has a gigantic history that belies its straightforward townscape. With a pair of historic churches—the Town Church of St. Mary, where Luther preached, and the Church of All Saints (Castle Church), where he famously hammered his 95 Theses to the door—and an excellent museum about Luther’s life (Luther House), Wittenberg can be a worthwhile stop even for those unfamiliar with the Great Reformer. And for Lutherans, it’s a pilgrimage. The notable painter Lucas Cranach the Elder, a contemporary and friend of Luther who also lived and worked in Wittenberg, left behind a slew of masterful paintings and woodcuts, and you can see where he lived as well.
Centuries of Germans have celebrated Wittenberg for its ties to Luther. In 1983, which marked Martin Luther’s 500th birthday, Wittenberg was part of communist East Germany, whose atheistic regime was tearing down proud old churches elsewhere. But ignoring the Luther anniversary would have made the East German government, already unpopular, seem woefully out of touch. (The government also sensed an opportunity to attract Luther tourists and much-needed hard Western currency.) So the communists swallowed hard and rehabilitated the memory of Luther, tidying up the sights devoted to him. This may be why Wittenberg emerged from communism in better shape than many other East German towns.
The city received another round of upgrades in 2017, when it celebrated the 500th anniversary of Luther’s famous 95 Theses—it’s newly spiffed up and sparkling. Most tourists here are Germans (and American Lutherans), and the town is also a stop for riverboat cruise groups heading from Hamburg to Dresden and Prague. And yet, Wittenberg isn’t unpleasantly touristy. Its pedestrianized main street feels quiet—sometimes almost deserted—and its sights are satisfying and quickly seen. Wittenberg city works perfectly as a side-trip from Berlin (offering a refreshing small-town break from the intense city), and also works well on the way between Berlin and Leipzig, Erfurt, or even Dresden (handy lockers at Wittenberg train station).
As you explore Wittenberg, mentally time-travel to the days of Luther—the first few decades of the 16th century. The Renaissance was percolating to the south in Italy (where Michelangelo and Raphael were hard at work redecorating the Vatican), and a spirit of new ideas was also beginning to take hold in Germany.
The influential prince elector Frederick III “the Wise” (1463-1525), who had inherited half of Saxony from his father, chose sleepy Wittenberg as his royal seat. He built a stout castle here in 1492 (not open to visitors, but viewable from the park just beyond the town gate), and began remaking this humble fishing village into a proper Renaissance town. (That explains Wittenberg’s grid of streets, compared with the twisty medieval muddle of many other German towns.) Frederick the Wise hired Lucas Cranach the Elder to be his official court painter. Cranach—along with his wife, Barbara, and son Lucas Cranach the Younger—lived in a big mansion on Market Square (today a museum; his statue—pictured above—is in the courtyard). Frederick also founded a university here (in 1502) and stocked it with some of the brightest minds of his time, including the promising young theologian Martin Luther and the brilliant classical-languages specialist Philipp Melanchthon. Cranach, Luther, Melanchthon, and others were good friends who regularly socialized and swapped ideas.
Although he remained a devout Catholic until the end of his life, Frederick the Wise supported Luther and the reformers in their darkest hour, likely saving them from obscurity or worse. Wittenberg would not be famous if not for Luther—but, most likely, if not for Frederick the Wise, Luther would not be famous, either.
It’s a speedy 40 minutes from Berlin on ICE trains, or 1.5 hours on cheaper regional (RE) trains. All trains depart from the Berlin Hauptbahnhof; some regional trains also stop at Potsdamer Platz. If you’re a small group day-tripping from Berlin, and are willing to take the slower regional trains (not valid on ICE), you can save a bundle with the Brandenburg-Berlin-Ticket. Available through Deutsche Bahn, this covers unlimited regional train travel throughout the Brandenburg region during one day, for up to five people, all for €29.
Wittenberg’s sights can be seen in just a few hours. For an efficient visit, from the train station ride the public bus to Marktplatz, start at the TI and Castle Church, then work your way downhill through town—sightseeing and possibly having lunch as you go. From the last couple of sights—Luther House and Asisi Panorama—it’s about a 15-minute, downhill walk back to the train station.
Luther lived a turbulent life. In early adulthood, the newly ordained Catholic priest suffered a crisis of faith before finally emerging as “born again.” In 1517, he openly protested against Church corruption and was later excommunicated. Defying both the pope and the emperor, he was declared a heretic and hid out in a friendly prince’s castle, watching as his ideas sparked peasant riots. In his castle refuge he translated the New Testament from Greek to German. He later composed hymns such as “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God,” sparred with fellow Reformers, and tried to harness and guide the religious, social, and political firestorm he helped ignite.
Luther was born on November 10, 1483, in Eisleben, south of Berlin. His dad owned a copper smelter, affording Luther a middle-class upbringing—a rarity in the medieval hierarchy of nobles, clergy, and peasants.
Luther enrolled at the University of Erfurt in 1501. There he earned a liberal-arts degree, entered law school, and earned himself two nicknames—“the philosopher” for his wide-ranging mind, and “the king of hops” for his lifelong love affair with beer.
Then came July 2, 1505. While riding through the countryside, Luther was caught up in an intense thunderstorm, and a bolt of lightning knocked him to the ground. Luther cried out, “St. Anne, save me, and I will become a monk!” Surviving the storm, Luther was determined to make good on his promise. He returned to Erfurt, sold his possessions, and told his friends, “After this day, you will see me no more.” The next morning, he knocked on the door of Erfurt’s Augustinian Monastery and dedicated his life to Christianity.
But Luther soon realized that pious monastic life did not suit his inquisitive nature. He returned to academia, was ordained a priest in 1507 in Erfurt’s cathedral, and by 1508 was teaching theology part-time at the university in nearby Wittenberg.
In 1509, Luther set out for Rome on foot, a pilgrimage that would change him forever. Upon arriving in the Eternal City, he was dismayed to find rich, corrupt priests and bishops selling “indulgences,” which supposedly guaranteed entry to heaven to those able to pay the price. This was the Rome of Pope Julius II, who was in the midst of an expensive, over-the-top remodel of Vatican City—and the lucrative sale of indulgences helped refill the papal treasury. At the time of Luther’s visit, Michelangelo was lying aloft on his back in the Sistine Chapel, executing detailed frescoes on the ceiling, while Raphael was slathering nearby hallways with his own Renaissance masterpieces.
This traffic in indulgences and luxury clashed violently with Luther’s deeply held belief that people’s faith, not their pocketbook, would determine the final destination of their souls. Indulgences were an insult to his worldview—and, to Luther, a betrayal of the Christian faith.
After returning to Germany in 1512, Luther received his doctorate and got a job teaching theology at the university in Wittenberg. The prince elector of Saxony, Frederick the Wise, had decided to make this backwater town his royal seat, so he invited the region’s best and brightest to populate his dynamic new burg. Here, Luther mingled with other great thinkers (including fellow professor Philipp Melanchthon) and artists (most notably Lucas Cranach the Elder).
During these early years, Luther was consumed with the notion that he was a sinner. He devoured the Bible, looking for an answer and finding it in Paul’s letter to the Romans. Luther concluded that God makes sinners righteous through their faith in Jesus Christ, not by earning it through good deeds. As this concept of “unearned grace” took hold, Luther said, “I felt myself to have been born again.”
Energized, he began a series of Bible lectures at Wittenberg’s Town Church of St. Mary. The pews were packed as Luther quoted passages directly from the Bible. Speaker and audience alike began to see discrepancies between what the Bible said and what the Church was doing. Coincidentally, a friar happened to arrive in Wittenberg around this time, selling letters of indulgence that promised “forgiveness for all thy sins, transgressions, and excesses, howsoever enormous they may be”...a bargain at twice the price.
Outraged at the idea that God’s grace could be bought, Luther thought the subject should be debated openly. On October 31, 1517, he nailed his now-famous 95 Theses (topics for discussion) to the door of Wittenberg’s Castle Church. The theses questioned indulgences and other Church practices and beliefs. Thesis #82 boldly asked: “If the pope redeems a number of souls for the sake of miserable money with which to buy a church, why doesn’t he empty purgatory for the sake of holy love?” With the newfangled printing presses belonging to Lucas Cranach, Luther’s propositions were turned into pamphlets that became the talk of Germany.
Luther didn’t set out to start a new church; he wanted to reform the existing one. He preached throughout the region, spreading his provocative ideas and publicly debating his positions in such venues as Leipzig’s town hall. In 1520, a furious Pope Leo X sent the rebellious monk a papal bull threatening excommunication. Luther burned the edict on the spot, and soon after, Leo X formally excommunicated him.
Luther was branded a heretic and ordered to Rome to face charges, but he refused to go. Finally, the most powerful man in Europe, Emperor Charles V, stepped in to arbitrate, calling an Imperial Diet (congress) at Worms in 1521. Luther made a triumphal entry into Worms, greeted by cheering crowds. The Diet convened, and Luther took his place in the center of the large hall, standing next to a stack of his writings. Inquisitors grilled him while the ultra-conservative Charles looked on. Luther refused to disavow his beliefs.
The infuriated emperor declared Luther an outlaw and a heretic. Being “outside the law” meant that he could be killed at will. After leaving Worms, Luther disappeared. He was kidnapped—by supporters—and given refuge in Frederick the Wise’s Wartburg Castle. There Luther wore a beard to disguise himself as Junker Jörg (“Squire George”). He spent 10 months fighting depression and translating the Bible’s New Testament from the original Greek into German. This “September Testament” was revolutionary, bringing the Bible to the masses and shaping the modern German language.
Meanwhile, Luther’s ideas caught on back home in Wittenberg, where his followers had continued to pursue reform. By the time Luther returned to the city in 1522, popular uprisings led by more radically minded reformers were undermining law and order.
In 1525, Luther’s friend and follower Thomas Müntzer used Luther’s writings to justify an uprising known as the Peasants’ Revolt. Poor farmers attacked their feudal masters with hoes and pitchforks, fighting for more food, political say-so, and respect. Thousands of peasants died, and Müntzer was executed. Luther decried the uprising, preaching that Church corruption did not justify outright societal rebellion. In fact, he supported the violent suppression of the Peasants’ Revolt.
In 1525, the 41-year-old ex-priest married a 26-year-old ex-nun, Katharina von Bora, “to please my father and annoy the pope.” (Their wedding set the precedent of allowing Protestant clergy to marry.) They moved into the former Wittenberg monastery where Luther had once lived (today’s Luther House, the best museum anywhere on the Reformation and Luther), where they rented rooms to students. Luther turned his checkbook over to “my lord Katie,” who ran the family farm and raised their six children and 11 adopted orphans.
Luther traveled, spreading the Protestant message. In 1529, at Marburg Castle (just north of Frankfurt), he attended a summit of leading Protestants to try and forge an alliance against Catholicism. They agreed on everything except a single theological point: whether Christ was present in the wine and bread of Communion in a physical sense (according to Luther) or symbolic sense (per the Swiss reformer Ulrich Zwingli). The disagreement doomed the Protestant movement to splinter into dozens of sects.
In 1534, Luther finished translating the Bible. Lucas Cranach illustrated it with woodcuts and published it on his printing presses. The Martin Luther Bible was to German-speaking Christians what the King James Bible would be to English-speaking Christians—essentially codifying an entire language. Luther also wrote a German Mass, catechisms, and several hymns, including the still-beloved “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God.”
In his fifties, Luther’s health declined and he grew bitter, a fact made clear in such writings as “Against the Papacy at Rome Founded by the Devil” and “Of the Jews and Their Lies.” A general tone of anti-Judaism pollutes his later work. Luther was less concerned with the ethnicity of Jews—as the Nazis later were—than he was by their refusal to accept Christianity. Luther’s words were later invoked to justify anti-Semitic speech and actions during the early days of Nazism.
Martin Luther died on February 18, 1546, and was buried in Wittenberg. To read more about Luther’s legacy, see the sidebar on here. And watch my one-hour public television special, Rick Steves’ Luther and the Reformation (www.ricksteves.com/luther).
Literally “White Hill,” Wittenberg (Germans say VIT-tehn-behrk, pop. 50,000) sits atop a gentle rise above the Elbe River. The tourists’ Wittenberg is essentially a one-street town: Its main drag runs about three-quarters of a mile from the Luther House (where the street is called Collegienstrasse) to the Castle Church (where it’s called Schlossstrasse). The rest of the Old Town consists only of a few side streets. The modern part of town sprawls mostly to the north and east.
Don’t confuse Wittenberg with Wittenberge, a town north of Berlin. (The correct Wittenberg sometimes shows up as “Kleinwittenberg” on GPS maps or “Lutherstadt Wittenberg” on some websites.)
Wittenberg’s TI is at the far end of town from the train station, across the street from Castle Church (April-Oct daily 9:00-18:00; Nov-March Mon-Fri 10:00-16:00, Sat-Sun until 14:00; Schlossplatz 2, tel. 03491/498-610, www.lutherstadt-wittenberg.de). The TI rents a town audioguide (€7, 2 hours of commentary—must return before closing time), and there’s a pay WC next door. A second, less comprehensive branch of the TI is at the northern edge of the Old Town, in the Stadthaus (shorter hours than main TI).
Wittenberg’s main train station (listed on schedules as Lutherstadt Wittenberg) is a dull 15-minute walk from the Luther Museum and a 25-minute walk from the TI and Castle Church. (The smaller Lutherstadt Wittenberg Altstadt station, while closer to the Old Town, only serves trains on a small branch line.) The station building has handy lockers, a café, and a ticket office. Nearby (on the other side of the big, white tent) are bus stops for the ride into town. Look for bus #300 (toward Coswig) or bus #301 (toward Straach); these leave from bus stop #1 (every 30 minutes, 10-minute ride, €1.30/ride, €2.50/day pass, buy tickets from driver). Stops aren’t announced; you want the Marktplatz stop, right at the Old Town’s main square (ask the driver to confirm). A taxi from the station to Schlossplatz (near the TI) should cost about €10 (if no taxis are waiting, call 03491/666-666). To walk, head left from the station, walk beneath the overpass, and look for signs directing you to the city center.
Drivers will find plenty of free on-street parking just outside the mostly pedestrianized town center.
Festivals: Various festivals dot Wittenberg’s calendar, including a three-day celebration of the wedding of Luther and Katharina (second weekend in June) and special events for Reformation Day (Oct 31, when Luther nailed his 95 Theses to the church door).
Tours: Most walking-tour options (you’ll likely see costumed Martin Luthers and Katharina von Boras leading groups through town) are in German only. For an English tour, hire your own local guide—gracious Katja Köhler does a great job telling Wittenberg’s story (€80/2-hour tour, €130/4-hour tour, mobile 0177-688-8218, katjakoehler@gmx.net).
English Worship Services: Local Lutherans offer English-language services in historic Wittenberg churches during the summer (April-Oct Wed-Fri at 16:00 in small Corpus Christi chapel next to Town Church of St. Mary; Sat at 17:00 in either Castle Church or Town Church of St. Mary; confirm times at www.wittenbergenglishministry.com).
Classical Concerts: It seems like there’s always a concert on in one of the town’s churches. If you’re spending the night, check at the TI to find out when and where you can enjoy some classical music. (Luther—who said “to sing is to pray double”—loved music.)
▲▲Castle Church (Schlosskirche)
Cranach Courtyard (Cranachhof)
▲▲Town Church of St. Mary (Stadtkirche St. Marien)
Luther Sights near Luther House
▲Wittenberg 360 Panorama: Luther 1517
▲House of History (Haus der Geschichte)
Historical Town Information Center (Historisches Stadtinformation)
Cruises and Biking the Elbe River Valley
I’ve organized these sights roughly in order from the TI end of town (with the Castle Church) to the Luther House end of town.
This Church of All Saints was the site of one of the most important moments in European history: Martin Luther nailing his 95 Theses to the church door. That door—and most of the church as it existed in Luther’s time—are long gone (destroyed in 1760, during the Seven Years’ War). But in the late 19th century, as Germany was uniting as a nation for the first time, the church and the door were rebuilt in the Romantic style as a temple to Luther and his fellow reformers. You’ll find Luther’s humble tombstone inside.
Cost and Hours: Free; April-Oct daily 10:00-18:00; Nov-March Tue-Sat 10:00-16:00, Sun 11:30-16:00, closed Mon; Schlossplatz, tel. 03491/402-585, www.schlosskirche-wittenberg.de.
Visiting the Church: Before entering, take a close look at that famous side door (in the middle of the church, to the left of the present-day entrance). According to most accounts, on October 31, 1517, a frustrated Martin Luther nailed a handwritten copy of 95 Theses—topics for discussion—to the wooden door that was here then. (What you see is a 19th-century bronze door engraved with the Latin theses.) The act wasn’t quite as defiant as it sounds—the door served as a sort of community bulletin board. But the strong arguments Luther made about ending the practice of indulgences and other forms of Church corruption were revolutionary...as was his timing. Normally, Wittenbergers worshipped at the Town Church of St. Mary, but the day after Luther’s act—All Saints’ Day—was the one day each year that the Castle Church’s interior was open to the public, who were invited to come inside, view Frederick the Wise’s vast collection of relics, and purchase indulgences. Historians quibble over the exact day Luther made his theses public and whether he actually nailed them to the door, but there’s no doubt that his work spurred a nascent sentiment of reform and cemented his role as that movement’s leader.
Above the door is a glittering image of the crucified Christ flanked by Luther (on the left) and his fellow Reformer Philipp Melanchthon (on the right), with the skyline of Wittenberg behind them.
Go inside, walk down the nave, and look up. Notice the colorful coats of arms on the upper stained-glass windows, which represent German cities that became Protestant when they joined Luther’s Reformation. The carved coats of arms on the railing honor larger principalities that also adopted Protestantism. The lower stained-glass windows, with images of Reformers, were grudgingly added for Luther’s 500th birthday, in 1983, by the aggressively atheistic East German government...and it shows.
In the middle of the church, to the right (in front of the pulpit, with a raised plaque), you’ll see the flower-bedecked tomb of Martin Luther. On the wall behind it is a replica of the large bronze tomb marker that originally covered Luther’s remains. While this wasn’t his home church (that would be the Town Church of St. Mary, just up the street and described later), this university church was traditionally where professors like Luther were entombed. On the left side of the nave is a similar raised plaque marking the grave of Luther’s right-hand man and fellow professor, Philipp Melanchthon.
Proceed to the front of the church. In front of the high altar are large tomb markers for the prince electors who called Wittenberg home and provided safe harbor for Luther’s provocative ideas. On the left is Frederick the Wise, and on his right is his younger brother, John the Steadfast. While Frederick remained devoutly Catholic throughout his life, his support for Luther, Melanchthon, and the early Protestant Reformers never wavered. Frederick’s successor, John, converted to Protestantism and, in a fit of iconoclasm, destroyed his brother’s impressive collection of relics. Flanking these markers are larger plaques and statues (from the original church) that depict these important brothers.
This wide square is much the same today as it was in Luther’s time. An all-purpose space back then, it was used for everything from tournaments to executions. The square is dominated by the Renaissance-style Town Hall (Rathaus). Notice the seven small, filled-in doors at the right side of the building, which led to a shopping gallery back when the building’s cellar hosted a little marketplace (today the Town Hall houses a 20th-century Christian art collection). In one corner of the square you’ll find a metal model of Wittenberg’s Old Town. In the middle of the square are 19th-century statues of Martin Luther (pictured here) and Philipp Melanchthon (pictured on here).
The main street through town is lined by delightful gurgling canals, as in a few other German cities, like Freiburg and Augsburg. When Luther first moved to Wittenberg, he was disgusted by these, which carried drinking water (on the way into town) and smelly sewage (on the way out). Years later, they were covered over by the modern street. But recently they were opened up to the air to evoke the ambience of Luther’s time.
Find the big beige Renaissance building at Schlossstrasse 1, in one corner of the square, with a pharmacy (the Lucas-Cranach-Apotheke) on the ground floor. This building, circling a surprisingly large courtyard, was the residence of the artist Lucas Cranach the Elder. Enter the courtyard to see a statue of Cranach sketching at the far end (see the photo on here).
As the official court painter for Frederick the Wise, Cranach was one of the most esteemed men in town, but he was also an entrepreneur who dabbled in endeavors like printing and running a pharmacy. Cranach and Luther were fast friends. The artist was the only painter who had permission to do portraits of Luther and his family (Cranach and his school produced and reproduced some 2,000 Luther portraits), and he was one of the first printers of Luther’s writings. Cranach’s house is also where Luther’s future bride, Katharina von Bora, lived when she first came to Wittenberg (fresh out of the convent).
For decades, this space sat in ruins (see the pre-1989 photo in the entry arch.) But it’s been converted into a kind of cultural center, hosting artists’ studios, a small bar, a gift shop, comfortable hotel rooms, and—at the far end of the courtyard—an old-fashioned print shop (Druckerstube). Operated by a quirky printer who speaks some English and enjoys explaining the importance of Luther’s statement, “This is a German nation—the people speak German,” the shop uses traditional methods to create postcards and replicas of works by Luther and Cranach (closed Sun). There’s a small Cranach museum a few doors away (at #4 on Market Square).
Towering over a row of buildings at the end of Market Square, this is the oldest building in town and an impressively historic place to be surrounded by Luther lore.
Before stepping inside, notice that the tops of the twin towers don’t quite match the rest of the building. Formerly pointy Gothic steeples, these were knocked down during a 1546 battle. They were later rebuilt in the round Renaissance style you see today.
Cost and Hours: Free to enter, Mon-Sat 10:00-18:00, Sun from 11:30, Nov-Easter daily until 16:00, free organ concerts May-Oct Fri at 18:00, tel. 03491/62830, www.stadtkirchengemeinde-wittenberg.de.
Visiting the Church: The interior of the Town Church of St. Mary is striking for its pure, uncluttered feel. Once ornately painted and slathered with chapels, statues, and ornamentation, it was cleaned out when it became Lutheran. Sit in a pew and enjoy the Doublemint freshness of the space.
While everyone who comes to Wittenberg has heard of Martin Luther, many are surprised to find another important figure celebrated here with almost equal reverence: Philipp Melanchthon. The Garfunkel to Luther’s Simon, Melanchthon was a brainy university professor who also played a critical role in the Protestant Reformation.
Born Philipp Schwartzerdt in southern Germany, he later changed his name to its Greek translation, Melanchthon (“black soil”). Although he was short, young, sickly, and notoriously unattractive, Melanchthon impressed everybody in Wittenberg with his keen intellect. In fact, when Melanchthon became disillusioned with Wittenberg and threatened to move away, Frederick the Wise persuaded him to stay by arranging a marriage for him (to the mayor’s daughter, no less). While Luther was no intellectual slouch, Melanchthon was even more brilliant—he taught several topics (specializing in ancient languages, pedagogy, and theology) and encouraged women to pursue university study. Particularly gifted with languages, he provided Luther with invaluable assistance when translating the Bible into German from the original Greek and Hebrew texts.
For most of his life, this was Luther’s home church—where he was married, where his children were baptized, and where he preached over 2,000 times. This is where what many consider to be the first-ever Protestant service took place, on Christmas Day in 1521 (although Martin Luther wasn’t in attendance—he was hiding out at Wartburg Castle). The readings were in German (not Latin), communion was taken by everyone (not just priests), and hymns were sung by the congregation—actually quite radical at the time.
At the front of the church, the baptismal font is where Luther’s own children were baptized. Notice the tube extending from the basin directly down toward the ground. This allowed water, after having washed away sin, to be drained directly into what was a sandy floor, so it could be transmitted, unimpeded, to hell. Around the lower legs of the font, notice the many demons attempting to reach the baby being baptized up top—but their progress is blocked by the righteous saints.
The focal point of the church is the colorful, engaging, almost whimsical altar painting by Lucas Cranach the Elder, the Younger, and their school (completed in 1547, the year after Luther died). The gang’s all here: All the big-name early Protestants and their buddies have showed up to reenact classic ecclesiastical scenes. In the spirit of the Reformation, these aren’t saints or royals—they’re just people.
The bottom panel shows Martin Luther preaching from a pulpit, one hand on the Bible and the other pointing to Christ, as he engages an enthralled group of worshippers. The fluttering loincloth of Jesus helps to convey the message from preacher to parishioner. But notice that, true to life, some of those people aren’t paying attention—they’re chatting and looking around. The woman watching Luther most intently is his wife, Katharina. She’s surrounded by their many children. Cranach (with the big white beard) is in the back.
The panel on the left shows Philipp Melanchthon (who was not a priest) baptizing a baby. The early reformers believed that lay people—not exclusively priests—could perform baptisms. In the foreground, the extravagantly dressed woman with her back to us is Cranach’s wife, Barbara. Supposedly, she grew frustrated that her husband was always painting Luther, Katharina, and others, but never her. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll include you in the altarpiece.”
On the right panel, Johannes Bugenhagen (among reformers, he ranks third after Luther and Melanchthon) is hearing confession from two very different people. Over the head of the obviously distraught and repentant man on the left, Bugenhagen holds the key of heaven—the sinner has done right by confessing and will reap eternal rewards. The man on the right, however, is trying to buy his way into heaven—but his hands are tied and the key of heaven is behind him, indicating he can’t purchase paradise.
The central panel features the Last Supper, with the reformers standing in for the apostles. Notice the round table, which symbolizes how, in Protestantism, all are equal. People from all walks of life are actively engaging each other. It’s easy to pick out Judas in the foreground (he wears yellow, as evildoers often do in Cranach paintings). On the opposite side of the table, Martin Luther (clad in black, wearing the bearded disguise of Junker Jörg) is being handed a chalice by Lucas Cranach the Younger. In contrast to Catholic worship at the time, Protestant services invited everybody to participate in communion.
Circle behind the painting and look at the lower panel, which appears as though it’s been defaced by some no-good teenagers. It was...centuries ago. Around Luther’s time, students of theology came here at the end of their studies and scratched their names or initials into the painting: on the left, in the river of knowledge, if they’d done well—or on the right, in hell, if they’d flunked. Looking carefully among the damned (higher up, on a skull), you can find the name “Johannes Luther”—Martin’s son. (Thankfully, he had more success after he switched to law.)
The zone behind the altar has several interesting paintings. Most important is a painting labeled Epitaph for Paul Eber and his Family (better known as The Vineyard of the Lord), by Lucas Cranach the Younger. This work’s propaganda-for-the-Reformation motives are obvious: On the right, the reformers tend to the garden of the Lord (that’s Martin Luther raking and Philipp Melanchthon pulling water from the well—just as the reformers went back to the original source to translate their Bible). On the left, the pope and his cronies (in their excessively opulent robes) trash all their hard work. In the lower-left corner, everyone lines up to receive their reward from Jesus. The pope (wearing yellow, again symbolizing evil) has already received his, but keeps his hand outstretched, expecting more than his share. In the lower right, the reformers (in their simple black robes) pray reverently.
As you head back up the nave to exit, look up: The grand organ dates from the communist period (1983), and booms out short organ concerts in summer. Luther’s greatest musical hit, “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God,” was first sung here.
Exiting the way you came in, turn left and go to the back corner of the church. Look up at the bottom of the roofline to find the relief of a pig, called the Judensau (“Jewish sow”). This bit of medieval anti-Semitic propaganda was designed to intimidate Wittenberg’s Jews, who lived in the area just behind the church. Look carefully at the pig, which is considered unclean in the Jewish faith: Jewish children are suckling from it, and a rabbi seems to be peering inquisitively into its rear end. When restoring the church, church authorities asked the Jewish community in Berlin what they should do with this painful remnant of a less-enlightened time. Rather than cover it, they suggested leaving it here as a part of the town’s heritage, and adding a modern monument: Look for the plaque in the cobbles directly below the pig, where four paving stones look as if they’re being pried apart by something bubbling up from beneath. The message: You can’t hide uncomfortable facts; they will find a way to see the light of day. The adjacent cedar tree was donated by students in Tel Aviv.
Behind you, go through the gap between the buildings near the pig to see one of Wittenberg’s 16th-century fountains. Part of Frederick the Wise’s improvements, this network of fountains (with wooden pipes) still works—but nobody knows quite how.
Luther’s former home has been converted into an excellent museum displaying original paintings, manuscripts, and other Luther-era items—including the pulpit from which Luther preached, famous portraits of Luther and the other reformers by Lucas Cranach, and Luther’s original New Testament and Bible translations into High German. Everything is fully described, and touch-screen stations provide more depth.
Cost and Hours: €8, €10 combo-ticket with Melanchthon House; April-Oct daily 9:00-18:00; Nov-March Tue-Sun 10:00-17:00, closed Mon; Collegienstrasse 54, tel. 03491/420-3118, www.martinluther.de.
Visiting the House: From the street, step through the passage (at #59) into the inner courtyard to see the giant, turreted building. Not really a “house,” this was originally a monastery. Luther lived here first as a monk and again later, after he had married Katharina von Bora (the building was a wedding gift from a prince elector who took Luther under his wing). Katharina rented out rooms to students, and kept the family fed and watered by cultivating a garden, brewing beer, and even breeding cattle. In the middle of the courtyard is a statue of Katharina. Erected on her 500th birthday in 1999, the sculpture symbolizes her leaving her former life at a nunnery and beginning a new one with Martin Luther.
Head inside through the gateway on your right. From the ticket desk, go straight into the first room to see a simplified model of Wittenberg during Luther’s time; paintings by Lucas Cranach (including a portrait of Frederick the Wise, the prince elector who supported Luther); and a woodcut print of a knights’ tournament at Market Square.
The next room juxtaposes several historic items. Flanking the door are an indulgence chest and an original letter of indulgence (Ablassurkunde), from 1492. Those who bought indulgences would supposedly be rescued from their sins...while generating substantial income for the Catholic Church. Money raised was applied directly to an ambitious building project at the Vatican: On the right, see the engraving of St. Peter’s Basilica, with its spectacular dome still under construction. Albrecht of Brandenburg (as the archbishop of Mainz, he was Luther’s direct superior) and Pope Leo X (both pictured at right), stunningly influential and wealthy, were part of a finely tuned business of selling forgiveness to mostly illiterate Christians frightened they’d spend eons in purgatory...or worse.
In contrast to the opulence in Roman Catholic churches, see Martin Luther’s original lindenwood pulpit from the Town Church of St. Mary. Notice how relatively humble it is—imagine him climbing up to the top and bringing the Reformation message to a packed church. Nearby is the first printed version of Luther’s troublemaking 95 Theses.
Continue into the refectory, where students would sit around a long table to dine. At the far end of this great hall is Cranach’s wonderful painting The Ten Commandments (1516). This was originally designed for the Town Hall so that anybody could see it; today, as then, it’s handy for a review of Sunday school lessons. See if you can identify each of the 10 commandments being broken (and followed)—and note that the same nobleman (in yellow and black) is responsible for half the sins. In each panel, an eerie-eyed demon prods the sinners.
In a side passage near the refectory, you can peruse a small but endearing exhibit with wood-carved figures acting out daily life in Luther’s time.
Up on the first floor is a rare painting of a relatively young Martin Luther by Cranach (1520). In the little dimly lit alcove, find the Cranach-printed first edition (1522) of Luther’s German translation of the New Testament, illustrated with Cranach woodcuts. Nearby is the “community chest,” the first systematized charity for poor people—Protestants began steering donations to the needy rather than into Church coffers. (Compare this to the Church’s indulgence chest we saw earlier.)
Pass through a lecture hall dominated by a fancy gilded lectern into the actual private residence of the Luther family (which still smells like the 16th century). Look for his-and-hers Cranach paintings of Martin and Katharina, three years after their wedding. Imagine the lifestyle of these newlyweds—he a former monk and priest, she a former nun. While the idealistic Luther took little or no payment for preaching and writing, and depended on the charity of wealthy local supporters, Katharina was a businesswoman who balanced the books and kept this huge household going. Look for the lockbox they used to protect their valuables. Katharina kept the key so Luther wouldn’t give everything they owned to the poor.
The centerpiece is the “Lutherstube”—the room with benches, a stove, and the table where Luther engaged in spirited conversations with his colleagues. Notice the names scratched into the ceiling, left behind by visiting VIPs (on the door, protected by glass, is the John Hancock of Russian Czar Peter the Great). Luther’s adjoining study contains a collection of his beer mugs (Luther loved his suds).
In the final room, see Luther’s translation of the complete Bible from 1534, printed and illustrated by Cranach with 266 woodcuts, and a tiny hymnal from 1533. Luther, who believed that music should be an important part of worship, composed hymns that are still sung today.
An adjacent room features an old printing press and cases filled with booklets that Luther authored and Cranach illustrated. In this room you can find (on the wall) an etching of “the pope as Satan,” a case full of anti-Jewish-themed books Luther wrote late in his life, and covers with more of Cranach’s political cartoon etchings—designed so even the illiterate could get the gist of Luther’s message. Perhaps the first PR genius to “go viral,” Luther sold more than a quarter-million books and was the best-selling German author of the 16th century.
Now climb the stairs to the top floor, which features a small treasury filled with 16th-century documents (including a small printed indulgence from 1515 with empty blanks for the purchaser to fill in, and a big indulgence from 1492 worth 100 fewer days in purgatory). This exhibit finishes with an intriguing exhibit of images showing how Luther has been represented in the centuries after his death. At the very end, check out Luther posters from Hitler’s time and from communist days (including the 1982 East German illustration showing Luther conversing at a table with Che Guevara and other revolutionaries). The East German government decided that it was OK to tell Luther’s story—as long as it was linked to the ideals of socialist revolution.
Several other Reformation sights cluster along Collegienstrasse, at the Luther House end of town:
Leaving the Luther House, turn right down Collegienstrasse with your back toward the town center (toward the ring road). At the big roundabout (see map), at the edge of the park on the left, is the famous “Luther Oak” tree marking the spot where Luther burned the papal bull that threatened him with excommunication.
About a block toward Market Square from the Luther House are two other buildings of interest to Lutherans. At #60 (with the rounded gables) is the Melanchthon House (Melanchthonhaus)—given to Philipp Melanchthon to persuade him to stay in Wittenberg when he threatened to move elsewhere, and now a museum about his life. Nothing survives from Melanchthon’s household, but the museum tries hard to bring him to life, and everything is described in English (€4, €10 combo-ticket with Luther House; April-Oct daily 10:00-18:00; Nov-March Tue-Sun until 17:00, closed Mon; tel. 03491/420-3110).
At #62a, duck through the doorway into the university courtyard. These are some of the original buildings where Luther, Melanchthon, and their colleagues worked. Wall plaques ringing the courtyard celebrate famous professors and alumni.
Berlin artist Yadegar Asisi—who has created these immersive, 360-degree panorama paintings around eastern Germany—has arrived in Wittenberg. A giant bunker-like structure in a park near the Luther House is home to this nearly 12,000-square-foot work that wraps entirely around the viewer. Using a combination of photographed models and digitally reconstructed historic buildings, Asisi recreates a day in the life of the grubby, crowded, and colorful town on the cusp of the Reformation—standing right in front of the Castle Church. Light and sound effects highlight different parts of the giant illustration, inviting you to tune into various details (pick up the leaflet, which explains some of the tableaus you’ll see). You can climb up the metal tower in the middle of the room for a higher vantage point. Panorama paintings like this one were all the rage in the 19th century, and Asisi does a good job of updating the magic for the modern era. While certainly overpriced, this could be worth the splurge to round out your Luther experience.
Cost and Hours: €11, daily 10:00-18:00, Lutherstrasse 42, www.wittenberg360.de.
This orchard of ecumenism, a short walk just south of Market Square, is a leafy statement that Christian communities—Protestant, Catholic, and Orthodox—can cooperate. Hundreds of trees from as many Christian communities from all over the world have been planted, and each has a sister tree planted in its community of origin.
Those intrigued by the communist chapter of Wittenberg’s history will enjoy this museum’s three floors of everyday items from East German times (1949-1989). For Cold War buffs, it’s worth ▲▲. The Wende (German reunification) in 1989 erased an entire culture, and in the space of a few years East German toys, food brands, cars, schoolbooks, and much more were replaced by Western ones—awakening nostalgia even in those who otherwise welcomed the end of communism. Over the past two decades, a dedicated staff has collected thousands of items that memorialize the world of their youth. The museum also includes a few rooms showing furnishings and fashions from the 1920s and 1930s. On the ground floor, you’ll find a fully stocked communist-era grocery store, a cozy DDR pub, and an exhibit (German only) on the life of Soviet troops posted to East Germany. The museum is directed at nostalgic German visitors, but the €1 audioguide makes it more meaningful to outsiders.
Cost and Hours: €6, daily 10:00-18:00, Schlossstrasse 6, tel. 03491/409-004, www.pflug-ev.de.
This slick new facility—in two buildings facing Arsenalplatz, a couple of blocks north of Marktplatz—illustrates the history of Wittenberg beyond the life of its most famous resident. The Zeughaus (former armory) displays a large model of Wittenberg in 1873, offering a good look at its earthen ramparts and moat. Across the square—displayed in the enclosed ruins of the Klosterkirche (former Franciscan monastery)—are exhibits on the Ascanian dukes of Saxony, who ruled this area before Luther. (This building adjoins the Stadthaus, with a branch TI, a concert hall, and a free WC.) While presented with modern flair, there’s only so much to say—making this, mostly, a “so what?” experience.
Cost and Hours: €2; April-Oct daily 9:00-18:00; Nov-March Tue-Sun 10:00-17:00, closed Mon; Zeughaus at Juristenstrasse 16a, Klosterkirche at Mauerstrasse 18.
This formerly drab communist-era public school, on the northeast outskirts of town, was redecorated in 1993 with wildly colorful and imaginative flair by Austrian architect Friedensreich Hundertwasser. Most intriguing to architecture buffs, it’s a long 30-minute walk from the city center (interior closed to the public but exterior viewable anytime, officially called “Luther-Melanchthon-Gymnasium,” Schillerstrasse 22a, www.hundertwasserschule.de).
While you can pay to take a brief cruise on the Elbe River, there’s not much to see other than a panoramic view of town (details at TI). The Elbe Valley also attracts many bicycle tourists, following the bike path called the Elberadweg (cycling route info at www.elberadweg.de).
Wittenberg has a wide range of charming hotels at fine prices. My listings (except Am Alten Anker) are right in the heart of the Old Town. Air-conditioning is rare.
$$$ Hotel Best Western Stadtpalais Wittenberg is a professional-feeling place with 78 rooms offering predictable business-class comfort right on the main drag, near the Luther House (some rooms have air-con, elevator, pay parking, Collegienstrasse 56, tel. 03491/4250, www.stadtpalais.bestwestern.de, info@stadtpalais.bestwestern.de).
$$ Ringhotel Schwarzer Baer (“Black Bear”) has 32 modern, comfortable rooms—each a bit different, but all of them stylish—in a period building with hardwood floors right off Market Square (elevator, free parking, Schlossstrasse 2, tel. 03491/420-4344, www.ringhotels.de/wittenberg, wittenberg@ringhotels.de).
$$ Alte Canzley, right next to the TI and across from the Castle Church, has nine enormous, well-equipped (if somewhat dated) rooms above a restaurant in a historic building from 1391. You’ll pay extra for a small kitchenette or a view of the Castle Church (elevator, free parking, pay sauna, Schlossplatz 3, tel. 03491/429-110, www.alte-canzley.com, info@alte-canzley.de).
$$ Hotel Brauhaus, a lesser value, rents 34 straightforward rooms over a restaurant and antique shop fronting Market Square (cash only, closed Nov-March, lots of stairs with no elevator, free parking, Markt 7, tel. 03491/443-3130, www.brauhaus-wittenberg.de, info@brauhaus-wittenberg.de).
$ Am Alten Anker, above a restaurant in a drab area at the far end of town (about a 15-minute walk beyond the TI, or a 30-minute walk or quick taxi ride from the train station), has 21 basic but comfortable rooms at a reasonable price (Dessauer Strasse 286, tel. 03491/768-760, www.amaltenanker.de, info@amaltenanker.de).
¢ Lutherstadt Wittenberg Youth Hostel, an official HI hostel, has 160 beds in 3- to 6-bed dorms, each with its own bath. This modern hostel is perfectly located, filling a sleek building by the Castle Church (private rooms available, elevator, pay Wi-Fi, lots of school groups, doors close at 22:00, lunch or dinner available, tucked behind Castle Church at Schlossstrasse 14, tel. 03491/505-205, www.jugendherberge-wittenberg.de, wittenberg@jugendherberge.de).
(See “Wittenberg” map, here.)
You’ll find a fun variety of good, affordable restaurants within a couple blocks of Market Square.
$$ Brauhaus Wittenberg serves up traditional meals and great local beer in a fun-loving beer garden that feels closer to Bavaria than to Saxony. From Market Square, you’ll enter the classic old courtyard filled with jovial tables; at the end, go inside to find comfortable seating on two levels, surrounding big copper vats where they brew their own “Wittenberger Original” pilsner. The menu includes big portions of tasty German standards (daily 11:00-22:30, Markt 6, tel. 03491/433-130).
$$ Das Wittenberger Kartoffelhaus serves up hearty, heavy skillets piled high with potatoes, potatoes, potatoes, prepared in fun and creative ways. The interior is cozy and brimming with kitschy decor, and the outdoor seating is on the relaxing pedestrian drag, just off Market Square (Schlossstrasse 2, daily 11:00-22:00, tel. 03491/411-200).
$$ Trattoria Toscana is a popular choice for Italian meals. Tucked in a “Little Italy” corner of town behind the Town Church of St. Mary, it has a fancy interior, romantic piazza seating, and down-to-earth prices (kid-friendly, daily 11:00-24:00, Mittelstrasse 1, tel. 03491/433-188).
$ Hanami, a family-run spot with a classy dining room, specializes in Vietnamese cooking and sushi. Like many Asian restaurants in eastern Germany, the Vietnam connection dates back to the communist days (usually daily 11:00-15:00 & 17:00-21:00, Schlossstrasse 8, tel. 03491/459-7068).
$ Reinsdorfer is good for a quick lunch on the go—there’s a bakery on one side of the shop (sandwiches made to order) and a butcher’s counter on the other (grilled sausages and prepared side dishes sold from the counter’s back end, take out or eat at simple tables, Mon-Fri 8:00-18:00, Sat until 12:00, closed Sun, Markt 6).
$ Super Döner serves up super döner kebabs to go from a hardworking little hole-in-the-wall just off Market Square at Collegienstrasse 86 (Mon-Sat 10:30-19:00, closed Sun).
From Wittenberg by Train to: Berlin (hourly on ICE, 40 minutes; also every 2 hours on slower regional train, 1.5 hours), Leipzig (6/day on ICE, 40 minutes; also hourly on regional trains, 1 hour, some with transfer in Bitterfeld), Erfurt (every 2 hours, 1.5 hours direct, more with transfer in Leipzig), Eisenach and Wartburg Castle (at least hourly, 2.5 hours, transfer in Erfurt or Leipzig), Dresden (1-2/hour, 2-3 hours, transfer in Leipzig and sometimes also Bitterfeld), Frankfurt (every 2 hours, 4 hours, transfer in Naumburg), Hamburg (nearly hourly direct on ICE, 3 hours; also possible about hourly with transfer in Berlin, 3.5 hours), and Nürnberg (every 2 hours direct on ICE, 4.5 hours). Train info: Toll tel. 0180-699-6633, www.bahn.com.