Strasbourg: The Heart of Alsace

I first learnt about Alsace (and, by extension, about Strasbourg) when I was in school studying about the Franco-German tussles over this bit of land. Later, in college, while studying hotel management, I learnt more interesting things about this city: that it’s the home of the almost legendary pâté de foie gras. Then, a couple of months ago, when I was creating an itinerary for a trip to Western Switzerland, my husband and I decided we wanted to spend a few days somewhere either in neighbouring France or Germany. I posted a question on the IgoUgo Travel Forums, and among the suggestions I received was one from midtownmjd, to whom I shall eternally be grateful.

Really. Strasbourg is divine.

From our Strasbourg 2008-2009 guide book (bought for €1 from the Tourist Information Centre next to the railway station), we learnt that Strasbourg began as a Roman camp called Argentoratum, back in 12 BC. From that period in time, the guide book skipped straight on to the Middle Ages, when Strasbourg began to make its presence felt: in the 12th century, work began on the massive Cathedrale de Nôtre Dame. It continued till well into the 15th century, by which time other interesting events had begun to happen in this city, which was now pretty well established on an island of the River Ill. By the 1500’s, Strasbourg had become an important centre of the Reformation (which probably accounts for the number of Protestant churches that still stand in the city—Strasbourg’s largest church, after the Cathedrale de Nôtre Dame, is the Protestant church of St Thomas).

Industry and commerce weren’t lagging behind, either. The millers, tanners, carpenters and fishermen (after whom streets in present day Strasbourg are still named) continued to ply their trade and live in half-timbered houses.

More importantly, Strasbourg began coming up in life: in about 1455, a local scion, Johannes Gutenberg, invented the printing press and instantly put Strasbourg on the map. And, with Strasbourg’s annexation to France, the city became a regional capital: Mozart performed in concerts here, Goethe studied at the local university, and Marie Antoinette, en route to Paris for her wedding, stopped by at the Palais Rohan and spent the night. Today, Strasbourg is half historical, half modern. The island in the Ill is a UNESCO World Heritage site, and the more modern part of the city has some of its major buildings along the river.

For us, Strasbourg proved to be a city of different flavours, sights and sounds. The railway station—dull and boring as stations are apt to be—proved, on closer inspection, to have a façade of carved stone (unashamedly baroque) and stained glass windows. On the outside, it was all enclosed in a vast mostly-opaque glass bubble, but still: a city with a main train station like that couldn’t be bad.

And Strasbourg certainly proved itself. Five minutes’ walk from the railway station, we were across the river and onto the island. This is where Strasbourg comes into its element. In the northern half of town—around Quai de Paris, Quai Kellerman, Quai Schoepflin, Rue de la Fonderie, Rue de la Mesange, etc—the streets are mainly modern. Oh, we came across the occasional old fountain or column (there was one in the tiny park in front of our hotel, the Best Western de France on Rue du Jeu des Enfants) and some churches, but by and large, this is an area of banks, offices, shops (Galerie Lafayette included) and boutiques like Edouard Artzner, Strasbourg’s best-known producer of pâté de foie gras.

South of this area, we began seeing more prominent signs of a bygone age. At Place Kléber, a vast paved square with a now-green statue of Strasbourg-born General J B Kléber, people stroll and chat, eat and drink in front of an impressive edifice, all carved stone columns, statues and scrolls. We never did learn what it was. Further south, down the Rue des Grandes Arcades from Place Kléber, we arrived at another square, this one with a statue of Johannes Gutenberg. Place Gutenberg also has a fully functional carousel dating back to 1900: striped canopy, painted medallions along the rim, lovingly crafted wooden horses racing around the edge and one even on top of the canopy, like a weathervane.

Just a couple of minutes’ walk from Place Gutenberg is the square in Strasbourg, Place de la Cathedrale, home to the magnificent Cathedrale de Nôtre Dame. This is where we decided there was no point putting our camera back in its case: there is just too much around that’s utterly picturesque. The cathedral, of course, from all angles, inside and outside, and at all times of the day—especially at sunset, when the beige stone is gilded and glorious; and the buildings around.

There is, for instance, the Maison Kammerzell, with its windows of rounded panes of stained glass, and its profuse carving. Across the square is the Palais Rohan, baroque architecture at its zenith, but better known for the three excellent museums it houses. The other great museum next door is the Musée de L’œuvre Nôtre Dame, full of original art from the cathedral. And as if that wasn’t enough, there are a few half-timbered houses facing the cathedral. Half-timbered houses, as we later learnt during a Batorama boat tour, are easily dismantled and can be shifted. In Strasbourg, at least, "Half-timbered houses were treated more like a piece of furniture than a building!"

Behind the Palais Royal runs the Ill, and I’d recommend a leisurely walk along its banks, shaded with plane trees and with the occasional swan or duck swimming along. Very good for the soul, especially if you decide to carry a packed lunch (foie gras? A bottle of cold Reisling? Tarte à l’oignon? Maybe even a tarte aux myrtilles) and picnic on one of the grassy stretches along the way. You can, of course (as we did) make it a wholly sightseeing trip, in which case you’ll enter the very picturesque area of Petite France, named after a hospital which once stood in the vicinity. The hospital cared for those suffering from venereal disease, and since venereal disease was believed to be of French origin, the entire area came to be known as Petite France. Today, Petite France is innocuous enough: a picture-postcard perfect quarter of river, canal, plane trees, swans, narrow cobbled streets and half-timbered houses. A happy meander through Petite France will bring you to the edge of the quarter, where three solid square-sided towers are all that remain of what was once the Ponts Couverts, the covered bridges. The towers were used as watchtowers, with gunners stationed at the top to keep a watch on the southern border of the city. A tiled roof covered the bridge and the towers, which accounts for the name of the bridge. Beyond the Ponts Couverts is the Vauban Dam, a multiple-arched structure which could be used to flood the southern half of the city in case of an invasion.

There is more to Strasbourg. In the more modern part of the city, you’ll see the edifices that today make it an important centre of political affairs: the European Parliament and the Human Rights Building. There are older structures too, like the Palais de Justice and the Palais du Rhin, both imposing buildings of the Imperial German Quarter, set against manicured lawns, flowerbeds and shady trees.

For me, at least, Strasbourg will always mean rows of half-timbered houses, with geraniums crowding the window boxes. It’ll mean a swan preening itself in the waters of a gently flowing canal. It’ll mean a trio of buskers playing "Sway" in Place de la Cathedrale. And it’ll mean an amazing city that manages to blend France and Germany so beautifully that you never think it strange that each street and each square has actually two names: Place Benjamin Zix is also Zixplätzel, Grand Rue is also Long Stross, and Rue du Fosse des Tanneurs is also Gerwergrawe.

The last time I was so fascinated by a city was in Rome. Well, Strasbourg may not be as big and as famous as Rome, but it’s as unforgettable.

I’ve seen some superb cathedrals—St Paul’s, Vienna’s Stephansdom, the Basilica of San Pietro, Paris’s Nôtre Dame—and this one, when I saw it, evoked the same reaction: utter and complete awe.

Strasbourg’s Cathedrale de Nôtre Dame is the city’s symbol, its huge spire soaring up into the sky, visible from just about everywhere. It’s the centre of the Old Town, the heart of Strasbourg, surrounded by cafés, souvenir-sellers, buskers and awestruck tourists.

And what a history it has. Construction began in 1176, on the site of an earlier basilica that had burnt down. About 50 years later, in 1225, a team from Chartres arrived to work on the cathedral, and they are largely responsible for the distinctively Gothic feel of the church’s architecture. Work on the cathedral continued till 1439, when the 142 mt high spire was finally erected (according to local literature, this remained the "highest edifice in Christendom till the 19th century").

All those centuries of painstaking work is evident in the sheer detail of the cathedral, inside and out. We spent ten minutes just admiring the carefully carved tympani of the three-portal entrance. The portal on the right, with its depiction of the Last Judgment, is especially striking.

Inside, the cathedral stretches in a long nave flanked by one magnificent stained glass window after another. These range from early medieval ones (some of which are currently being restored) to modern ones, so the difference in styles is interesting, but thankfully not jarring. There’s the usual rose window, a particularly intricate one with patterns predominantly in yellow, blue and white radiating out to an even more complex pattern of flowers in red and white.

At the far end of the nave lie the cathedral’s best-known works. On the left is the 15th century Mount of Olives, a sculpted tableau depicting scenes from Christ’s life, especially the Sermon on the Mount, the betrayal at Gethsemane, and the crucifixion. Separated from this by a few feet of stone floor is a very intricately carved baptismal font where the stonework looks almost like lace!

Across the nave, on the right, is the Pillar of Angels, a stone column decorated with life-size statues of Christ, the evangelists and the Angels of the Judgment. Behind this is another huge but very different work of art, the Astronomical Clock. Created by 16th century Swiss clockmakers, this is famous for its parade of mechanical figures. Everyday, half an hour past noon, a little procession of the twelve apostles files past a figure of Christ while other mechanical figures do their own thing.

Entry to the cathedral is free, though you’ll have to pay for extras such as guides, ascending the tower, or illuminating the Mount of Olives or the Pillar of Angels (they’re visible without illumination, but not enough for a good photograph). And yes, do try to visit early: by noon, the crowds are dense (and noisy) enough to warrant an occasional stern "Shhhh!!" over the cathedral’s PA system.

The Palais Rohan was built between 1732-42, designed by Robert de Cotte, first architect of the king, as a residence for the Prince Bishop Armand-Gaston de Rohan-Soubise, illegitimate son of Louis XIV. This is high baroque: imposing columns, carved ribbons, fruit and flowers, life-size statues. What makes Palais Rohan special, though, is its three museums.

A fee of €7 per person allows entry to the museums (and to ten other Strasbourg museums). Having bought our tickets, we ascended to the first, the Musée des Beaux-Arts, the Museum of Fine Arts. We moved quickly through the first few rooms, devoted to religious art up to about the 16th century. The painted, carved, or plaster Madonna and Child, Crucifixion, Adoration of the Magi, etc can get repetitive after you’ve seen them in umpteen museums and cathedrals. It’s interesting, though, to see evolving styles.

Our favourite artists began showing up soon after, with the repertoire widening to include secular subjects. Still lifes, landscapes, mythology and portraits, executed by some of Europe’s best: Botticelli, Raphael, Veronese, El Greco, Rubens, Goya, Delacroix, Courbet, Corot and others, ranging from the 14th to the 19th centuries.

My favourites? Raphael’s Portrait of a Young Woman: the velvety sheen of her sleeve is so real! Then there’s a splendid Virgin of the Consolation, her eyes so mesmerising, we stared spellbound for several minutes. And there’s a Corot, of rooftops and chimneys, simple but memorable.

Next was the Musée des Arts Decoratifs, the Museum of the Decorative Arts. Half of this museum consists of the restored Rohan chambers. There are bedrooms, banquet halls, a library, etc, all eye-poppingly opulent. The ceilings are carved polished wood, or ornate gilded stucco. The furnishings are silk and velvet with tassels galore; there are ceramic stoves, Ming vases, Flemish tapestries, murals and glittering chandeliers. One bedroom boasts of a crimson-hung four-poster in which Marie Antoinette once slept. At the entrance to each room are written guides, in multiple languages, explaining the significance of the room and its contents.

The next section of the Musée des Arts Decoratifs celebrates Strasbourg’s decorative arts—such as clocks and mechanical toys. Donated by Strasbourg-born illustrator Tomi Ungerer, the latter’s a delightful collection of toy cars, planes, boats, trains, and little human figures pulling rickshaws, peddling flowers, playing, etc.

And there’s porcelain, the intriguing type manufactured by the Strasbourg family of Hannong. The Hannongs made not just shepherdesses and conventional dinner services, but also utensils in disguise! We saw porcelain geese, cabbages, artichokes, a boar’s head, and lettuce—all realistic, but each a receptacle with a lid. Ingenious, and quirky!

The third of the museums is the Musée Archéologique, the Archaeological Museum. This lies in the basement, and includes exhibits from archaeological excavations across Alsace. We didn’t have much time to visit more than a couple of rooms, but we came across the usual: ceramic urns and pots, bits of jewellery, arrow heads and so on.

Even if, like us, you skip the Musée Archéologique, the Palais Rohan’s still a must-see: the other two museums are superb.

Our Palais Rohan entrance ticket included entry to ten other museums in Strasbourg, and since this one was right next door—and included in the list—we decided to see it as well. Unfortunately, we arrived just about 45 minutes before closing time, so our tour through the museum was a little swifter than we’d have liked. Despite that, we enjoyed it.

Created between 1931 and 1939, Musée de L’œuvre Nôtre Dame is primarily devoted to the works of the Cathedrale de Nôtre Dame next door. The cathedral is (or was) a veritable treasure house of superb religious art, much of which was in danger of falling prey to time. A lot of this art was therefore shifted into the shelter of the museum. The Musée de L’œuvre Nôtre Dame today houses not just art that was originally part of the cathedral, but also religious and semi-religious art from Strasbourg, Alsace and the neighbouring region. Incidentally, although the art you see in the museum was originally part of the cathedral, replicas have been placed in the cathedral at the spot from where the original art was taken. For example, the intricate carvings of part of the portals at the cathedral are replicas—the originals are in the museum.

The museum spreads over three floors of a building dating back to the 14th century. The ground floor consists of galleries of art from the cathedral; Romanesque stained glass and sculpture; medieval and Renaissance porcelain; and a medieval garden on one side. Between this floor and the first is an intermediate landing, with a collection of objects in ivory, gold and silver. The first floor itself has displays of paintings, and restored chambers containing beautifully carved wooden furniture, especially chests and cupboards. The second floor is a mix of stained glass, paintings, tapestries and sculpture from different periods.

Since we were in a hurry, we decided to do as quick a round as we possibly could, but there were some exhibits that were enticing enough to hold our attention. Among these were, on the ground floor, the exquisite life-size statues of the wise and foolish virgins (the originals are on the tympanum of the cathedral), the stunning 12th and 13th century stained glass in the intermediate landing, and the excellent carving on the 17th century cupboards on the top floor.

I also found the garden very intriguing—although it has some old tombstones, a baptismal font and other old pieces of sculpture, the (to me) interesting bit about the garden was the beds of carefully labelled herbs in the middle. Although more common herbs such as thyme, mint and basil were here, I also finally got to have a look at some I’d only heard about, like hyssop. The garden’s also a quiet nook to relax a bit after you’ve done your rounds of the galleries above and around.

Entry to the museum (if you don’t have the museum pass) is €4 per person, and includes a free audio guide.

Though, like most of Strasbourg’s other churches, it is usually overshadowed by the Cathedrale de Nôtre Dame, the Church of St Thomas merits a visit. On the outside, it looks a lot like St Pierre le Jeune (which may have something to do with the fact that both are Protestant): tiled roof, austere plastered exterior, tall windows. But this is Strasbourg’s largest church, after the Nôtre Dame. It was built between the 12th and 15th centuries and has been Lutheran since 1549.

At the time we visited, restoration work was in progress, so scaffolding hid part of the façade. In fact, tarps hung everywhere, with only a small doorway cut into the front to let in visitors—we nearly missed it and would have wandered away without going into the church had it not been for an observant me!

Once inside, we found St Thomas’s to be almost as austere as it looked on the outside. There are no lavish frescoes here, little stained glass (though the rose window behind the organ is an attractive one) and very restrained carving along the tops of the columns supporting the vaulted roof. This is all grey-beige stone, unrelieved by carving or gilt, and plain polished wood.

But St Thomas’s has two treasures. The first, like at St Pierre le Jeune, is a Silbermann organ. The second is St Thomas’s pride and joy, the white marble mausoleum of Marshall Moritz of Saxony. This stands at the far end of the church, beyond the choir, and was created by the famous sculptor Jean-Baptiste Pigalle (1714-85).

The mausoleum is one of Pigalle’s best-known works and is the ultimate in allegory. The marshall stands tall and proud in the centre of the tableau: below him, on one side, Hercules weeps for the dead hero. Above Hercules, in line with the feet of the marshall, lie dying, an eagle, a leopard and a lion, signifying the three major conquests of Moritz: Austria, England and Flanders. Just so you don’t miss the significance of the animals, the respective flags of the three areas also lie fallen beneath the animals. The most striking part of the tableau is on the right: below Moritz, Death—a skeleton wearing a robe with a cowl—prepares the dead hero’s shroud. Between Moritz and Death is France, one breast exposed, her skirt embroidered with fleur de lis. Her right hand clutches the marshall’s wrist, as if to detain him; the other hand reaches out to Death, pleading with him to spare the marshall. Very striking.

Our St Thomas’s visit was brief. There isn’t much to see here, other than the mausoleum. On the other hand, the mausoleum is so impressive, it’s worth visiting St Thomas’s just to see it.

St Thomas’s is open to visitors throughout the year, though timings vary and visitors are not permitted during service on Sundays. No entry fee is charged.

The Protestant church of St Pierre le Jeune is typical on the outside: green spires, red tiled roofs, tall windows. We thought we knew what we’d find inside: Gothic stone sculpture, stained glass, and much gilt. What we found was unusual enough to make us stop longer than we’d intended.

The first church on this site was built, probably dedicated to St Columba, in the early Middle Ages. By 1053, the name St Pierre le Jeune (St Peter the Younger) had been bestowed, to distinguish it from an earlier St Peter’s. The present church dates back to the 14th century—it was consecrated in 1320, and by 1524, with the Reformation, it had turned Protestant.

All right. Unexceptional so far, though Tarun and I were pleasantly surprised that St Pierre le Jeune actually offers a brief but well-written guide (in about a dozen languages) for visitors. Besides narrating the church’s history, the guide suggests a circuit, explaining the significance and origin of different sections of the church.

We followed the suggested route, beginning by stepping out into the stone-pillared cloister. This surrounds a small garden with a well. Climbing roses—covered with white blooms—trail over the well, and the floor of the cloister is studded with gravestones. The cloister itself is very old: three galleries date to the 11th century; the fourth is 14th century. Although they have been restored, these are believed to be the oldest cloisters north of the Alps.

Back inside the church, we moved to the striking five-arched rood screen, which separates the choir from the nave. This too has historic significance: in 1682, the choir was made part of a Catholic parish, though the nave remained Protestant. The rood screen, with its vivid and well-executed paintings of the Passion and Crucifixion, became the division between the Protestant and Catholic parts of St Pierre le Jeune.

Beyond the rood screen, and further along, stands a fine baptismal font (with, in the background, some of those ubiquitous stained glass windows!). Near it is the Trinity Chapel, with a carved nearly-lifesize angel and an attractive tiled floor. Also worth a mention is an 18th century Silbermann organ, still used in concerts.

But what we found most alluring are the church’s many remarkable frescoes. A vaulted ceiling has a depiction of the four gospel writers. One wall is painted with a scene of Christ walking on the Sea of Galilee, with Peter stretching out desperate hands while the other apostles stand in a ship, watching, and angels blow trumpets in the sky above. My favourite, though, is a quaint fresco near the entrance of the church. This one shows a long line of crowned riders, each in expensive robes and bearing flags. Each flag has the name of a medieval European nation: this is Europe, marching towards the Cross. Delightful!

St Pierre le Jeune is open to visitors from April 1 to October 31, barring Sunday mornings. No entrance fee is charged, and you may take photographs without a flash.

We’re not enthusiastic about guided tours, but make an exception for boat tours. And since the canals were so attractive, we to take a Batorama tour to get to know Strasbourg better.

Batorama does cruises on the Ill. In summer, boats depart every half hour from the pier behind the Palais Rohan, from 9.30 AM to 10 PM. We’d just finished seeing the Musée de L’œuvre Nôtre Dame, so were a hop, skip and jump away from the Batorama ticket office next to the pier. The lady at the counter said the next boat would leave in about 5 minutes, so Tarun paid up—€8 per person—and we ran across to board the boat. It was a long, no-frills closed boat with large windows and glass across much of the ceiling. Batorama also runs open boats, but the next open boat would leave after an hour. So we settled down, glad that the closed boat, if unexciting, was at least less crowded. Besides us, there were only about twenty passengers.

Each seat on the boat comes with its headphones plugged into a console next to the seat. You choose your language (and if you’re a child, you can choose a kiddy-friendly commentary featuring a Captain Hans Trapp and his parrot Coco!) and you’re ready to go.

The commentary is delightful and informative, not just about Strasbourg, but about Alsace. We learnt, for instance, that sauerkraut originated in China; that the Irish brought Christianity to Alsace; that the Alsatian language draws from French, German, Hebrew, Yiddish, and English; and that Strasbourg has been ruled by the "Swedes... the French, the Germans, the French, the Germans, the French..."!

The cruise went past the Palais Rohan and under the Pont Corbeau (Raven Bridge), the place where prisoners were once tortured by being dunked in refuse. Later, torture became more civilised: the refuse was replaced by water! As the boat went on by, towards Petite France, we learnt more: that Le Marseillaise was composed in a riverside building here; and that Strasbourg derives its name from the German strasse (street) and burgen (town): the Town of Streets.

Our boat went through two locks (with 3,60,000 litres of water filling up within 5 minutes to lift the boat a metre at the Moulins Lock) and the commentary continued, with interesting facts about the city and its buildings. The significance of Petite France, the Ponts Couverts and the Vauban Dam was explained; and local churches—St Thomas’s, the twin-spired St Paul’s and St Etienne’s (supposedly the city’s oldest)—were pointed out. The church of St Guillaume, we discovered, was the fishermen’s church; its steeple is topped with an anchor below the weathervane.

The boat also gave us a glimpse of more modern Strasbourg, with views of the Palais du Rhin, the European Parliament and the Human Rights Building.

An hour and 10 minutes after it embarked, having covered approximately 8 km, the boat brought us back to the Palais Rohan pier—after a thoroughly satisfying trip. A great way to see Strasbourg.