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Herzlich willkommen bei Frau Pilgerhut
Pilgerexpertin, Autorin, Pilgersteinmalerin
Pilgererfahrungen aus erster Hand
Pilgrimage under one hat - on the way with Sandra
Bavarian Swabian Way of St. James
Stage 10: From Siebnach to Bad Wörishofen 22 km
Tuesday, June 29th, 21
Overcast sky - lucky
The path leads along here
Here I went wrong
Nothing helps, I have to go back through the wet field. After walking back about 400 meters, I suddenly discover a sign of the Way of St. James behind a lot of green leaves, which I must have overlooked. It branches off to the left from the meadow path and also leads through knee-high greens that have reclaimed their way. But luckily only for about 30 meters until it meets another path that leads me directly leads to a bridge over the wild brook. Only now is the Wertach on my left and I am back on a clearly recognizable wide path. That was at least 700 extra parameters that are now added to my daily workload.
But sometimes you have to take a detour or even go back a little to be able to see where the right path leads….
I pass the edge of Türkheim, always walk south, accompanied by the Wertach and finally pass under a railway line and then the A96, which with its engine noise cuts through the friendly tranquility of nature from afar.
I'm looking forward to the Irsingener See, which I should reach shortly, and imagine a small local recreation area with a few benches on the bank and a beautiful lake panorama. Ideal for a second break.
To my regret, the sun has developed an enormous radiance again. It's almost as warm again as it was yesterday.
But puff cake. The hydropower the Wertach is used in various places by weirs and hydropower plants. And the lake, too, is of course a reservoir that is dammed up by a power plant weir. Unlike the day before yesterday in Bobingen, however, I can't see the lake at all because the view of it at the power station is obscured by a slightly higher dam. At the bottom of the dam there is an uninviting sign at this point that forbids entry.
Ohne Pausenbank
Ich wandere immer Richtung Süden, vorbei an Türkheim, unterquere schließlich eine Bahnstrecke und anschließend die A96 , die mit ihrem Motorenlärm schon von weitem durch die freundliche Ruhe der Natur schneidet.
Ich freue mich schon auf den Irsingener See und sehe mich innerlich bereits auf einer Bank am Ufer sitzen, mit Seeblick, Brotzeit und Pilgerromantik. Perfekt für die große Pause des Tages. Aber: Pustekuchen.
Die Wertach zeigt sich hier vor allem von ihrer technischen Seite. Wehre, Kraftwerke – und der See entpuppt sich als Stausee. Anders als noch in Bobingen bekomme ich ihn diesmal nicht mal zu Gesicht. Ein höherer Damm versperrt konsequent jede Aussicht.
Unten am Damm steht ein wenig einladendes Schild, das unmissverständlich klarstellt, dass romantische Seephantasien hier keinen Zutritt haben. Pause vertagt. Entsprechend groß ist der Frust: keine Bank mit Seeblick. Nicht mal eine ohne. Hinter dem geschlossenen Segelclub setze ich mich trotzig in die Wiese, parke mich mittig auf dem Rucksack unter ein paar Sträuchern und erkläre das zur offiziellen Pause inclusive Eincremen, Magnesiumboost, Essen und viel Trinken.
Der Himmel strahlt makellos blau, nur ganz weit weg treiben ein paar harmlose Wölkchen. Für den Abend sind Gewitter angesagt – egal, da sitze ich hoffentlich schon, etwas gemütlicher als hier, beim Fußballgucken.
Gebucht ist für heute das pilgerfreundliche Kneipp-Kurhotel St. Josef in Bad Wörishofen. Sonderpilgerpreis: 45 Euro inklusive Frühstück. Betrieben von Mallersdorfer Schwestern, hauptsächlich für Kurgäste gedacht – und mit Schwimmbad. Meinen Badeanzug habe ich genau dafür eingepackt. Bei der Buchung war mir allerdings noch nicht klar, dass Schwimmen eventuell mit einem EM-Spiel der Deutschen kollidieren könnte. Tragischer Zielkonflikt.
Nach einer Viertelstunde richte ich mich wieder auf, stapfe los, schnurgerade über eine asphaltierte Straße zwischen Feldern. Die Sonne meint es auch heute wieder ausgesprochen gut mit mir. Etwa eineinhalb Kilometer später flüstert mir eine Bank unter dem Schatten eines Baumes zu: "Ich weiß, ich bin zu spät dran, aber, bleib doch kurz." Ich gehorche. Ein paar Schlucke aus der letzten Flasche. Laut App sind es noch rund fünf Kilometer bis Bad Wörishofen.
I don't have a bank with a panoramic view of the reservoir today to you
I could follow a path a little further that branches off towards the lake and make a detour, but of course I also know that I would have to go back the same way because the Way of St. James changes direction here and bends to the west at a 90 degree angle.
I am frustrated. I was looking forward to it so much. At daily kilometer 15, I would have liked a shady bench with a view of the lake right here. But there isn't even a sunny bench without a view of the lake along the way.
Behind the closed sailing club building I defiantly go into the adjacent meadow and crouch on my backpack under a few bushes. Time to put some lotion on. In addition, I pour another magnesium directly under my tongue and drink my large capris sun empty.
T he sky is bright blue, only in the distance a few harmless little clouds move around, more to imagine than to see. Thunderstorms are announced for tonight, but then I don't care when I watch football.
I have the pilgrim-friendly one for today Kneipp Kurhotel St.-Josef booked. With Breakfast for a special pilgrimage price of 45 euros. I am very curious what to expect. It is from Mallersdorfer Sisters, run by a Roman Catholic women's order, and of course mainly accommodates spa guests.
In its capacity as a spa hotel, the house naturally also has a swimming pool and for this occasion I packed my swimsuit. Because I hope to find time to swim a lap after my arrival. It is pre-coronal since I was in a swimming pool. I think it would do my shoulders good. When booking it was mine However, it was not yet clear that my swimming project could collide with a soccer game.
Unfortunately, my accommodation is not that central, but a bit away from the Camino de Santiago. But well, at the moment I can't even catch a glimpse of Bad Wörishofen, so there is still enough time to deal with the address and location later.
I get up, adjust myself and keep walking, dead straight on an asphalt road between fields. Even today the sun means it too well for me.
I observe two birds of prey up close, fighting for the same prey just a few meters above the ground. Unfortunately, by the time I have pulled out my cell phone and am ready to trigger, they are already over all mountains or fields.
One and a half kilometers later, a shady resting place whispers to me as I walk past: “Come on, stay here a bit. Sit down with me and enjoy the moment ”. Who could say no to that? I take a few sips from my last bottle and swallow some more magnesium. According to the app, I am about five kilometers from Bad Wörishofen. Some older couples on e-bikes are now sharing the journey with me. It gets busier again near the city.
The colors of summer
After a left turn, the leads along a wood, I find some nice photo motifs in a gold-colored wheat field on the right hand side. The light lets them Flowers shine. I love these color contrasts.
At the end of the wood, the Way of St. James joins one on the right frequented street. Civilization has me again. The foothills of Bad Wörishofen are now in front of me, but I guess I still need an hour to get to the center. I look for where my path is next to the road, but I don't see anything.
A little confused, I notice that the shell signs do not point parallel to the street, but rather on the country road. For the first time since Oettingen that I have to share the lane with the cars, which can be driven on here with a maximum of 60 km / h. Unpleasant, I am not being overtaken permanently from behind, but more often and at high speed, but I am not able to swerve next to the lane. And of course there is oncoming traffic too. I pass the airfield and see an old biplane standing there that I would have liked to have photographed, but I don't have a safe position away from the road. I have no rest here Stop and take a leisurely photo while cars rush by.
It's coming faster than I can go
In addition, it contracted inconspicuously but rapidly. The sun has been gone for about 10 minutes and the wind has picked up a lot. I go straight to the end of the street until I finally hit a sidewalk. Then suddenly the sky looks like this :
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Auweiha, I think. It doesn't last until the evening before the storm breaks out.
The sky is changing every minute and the wind is getting stronger. I suddenly realize that I have to take my legs in hand to get to the hotel dry before the storm.
I'm two kilometers from my goal and after 20 km in my bones I'm pretty much at the limit.
But I have a lot of respect for what is brewing, which releases a few extra grains in me. I rush towards the center and along of the Wörthbach. It has now also darkened properly, the wind is already shaking the bushes and making the branches of the trees bend. I know that things will really get going in the next ten minutes at the latest. You can already see the people rushing home or fold in the parasols in your front yard and secure the garden furniture. It lightens. It cracks. The first thunder and quite close to the lightning. Now I'm actually running through the city center, sticks in one hand and feeling like a biathlete right after shooting when she goes back to the cross-country ski run.
I just have a rough idea of where to go and scan already the area after signposts. I didn't find the time to look any more. Where's that stupid hotel? I estimate another 400 meters. Ah, there, up the stairs and along a narrow footpath. Uphill. Normal. At the end I stand in front of a street. On the opposite side I read on the wall in front of the inner courtyard on the sign “Kneipp Kurhaus St. Josef”, behind it, slightly set back, is a huge building. I walk across the street, through the entrance to the large inner courtyard, to the covered entrance area.
My pulse is pounding around in his vessels. I'm done. Total at the end. I tear my backpack off my back and immediately drop onto the stairs.
Standing next to me are three chattering women, in their late fifties, in sportswear, who have watched my performance. One of them asks immediately whether I have hypoglycaemia and need help.
"No, I'm fine," I reply immediately. I don't want to make any long explanations, but as you look doubtful I add “I have just hiked 22 km and was afraid of not making it here before the thunderstorm. Small final spurt ”.
You nod understandingly. I don't think they even begin to understand what that means.
At this moment it starts. The sky opens its floodgates and it flashes, thunders, rains and storms, whatever it takes. That was the absolute point landing. I am really grateful to have arrived. I fumble my mask out of my pocket and put the backpack back on and go inside to the reception. Of course there is a lot going on inside, I have to queue up and it may only take five minutes to get my turn, but I have various problems. It seems forever to me.
But let's go again
I rest for half an hour, eat a granola bar, drink a lot of water and then first check the situation. Hmm. What if you can't schedule me to eat anymore? Then I'd have to go to bed hungry tonight. Or walk into town and back until 6 p.m. to go shopping, to be in the house on time for kick-off.
That's all crap. Either I have to go out again, but then I can chill and watch football or I stay here and sit in the dining room at 6 p.m. on the dot instead of in front of the TV.
Well, in the second case, I would go to the buffet quickly and be back in the room by 6.15 p.m. at the latest.
I weigh and conclude that my hunger is still is bigger than my tiredness and I definitely still want to go to town. The storm has subsided, it just rains constantly.
I unpack my sandals, my windbreaker, borrow a hotel umbrella and walk away without worrying socks. I'll be back within half an hour and I'll be richer by a cold Coke, a pretzel stick, a couple of bananas and two ice-cold, wet feet. The change in weather brought about a sharp drop in temperature.
A meager meal
As soon as I am there, the phone rings. Yup, I can eat with you. Okay, then I'll take the pretzel stick with me for tomorrow. It's not a drama.
At 6 p.m. sharp I'm sitting in the dining room. What I didn't know: no buffet, instead there is a dish served at the seat. Starter, main course and dessert. Right at the beginning of our conversation, my table neighbors report that they work very slowly here and that the meal is usually not done in under an hour.
Hour???
OK. I mentally say goodbye from half-time 1. My hunger is not only greater than my tiredness, but also than my national pride. A small side salad with croutons is served as a starter. It's eaten quickly. My table neighbors, a married couple in their early seventies, come from Munich. The lady stiffly claims that today's game will take place in Nuremberg. A few other female spa guests confirmed that to her this afternoon.
The man tries to contradict her and brings the correct venue Wembley into play.
But he has no chance. He cannot prevail. After a while he falls silent. I step in and agree that the game will take place in England, throwing into the ring that in Germany only Munich will be played. Then I fall silent too.
Pointless. The game takes place in Nuremberg.
I'm sorry for Don Quixote. I Imagine that he has been married to this woman for most of his life and how many discussions like this one he has had against his windmill wife.
I change the subject. And tell me about my hike to St. James here. The woman then asks about my further plans and an interesting conversation develops after the football disaster. It turns out that the two of them cycled from Munich to Compostela 15 years ago. And while they remember it, they literally blossom. Who would have thought?
They laugh and tell anecdotes and the man turns to me and says: "Yes, an experience like that changes you forever."
The main course is served. On my plate is a mini bird's nest of spaghetti and an even smaller piece of meat. The man looks at his plate and says: "I won't be satisfied tonight".
I am getting more and more sympathetic to him. The main course doesn't take much time to disappear from the plate either. Spa guests interested in football at the next tables loudly demand that dessert be served immediately so that they can take it to the room. Good idea.
Or should have thought better of what beforehand actually had been my top priority for the evening.
Eat? Football? Swim?
What does the good Confucius say again about decisions?
Whoever knows the goal can decide; he who decides finds peace; whoever finds peace is safe; whoever is sure can think about it; whoever thinks can improve.
Finding goals has always been difficult for me and my calm I don't think so either that night. But at least I'm sure I can still improve a lot. Wasn't there something with my personal W-questions ...?
I'm back in the breakfast room at 7:30 a.m. I find last night's bill in my place. 17.90 euros for the meal plus a drink. Wow. If I had at least got full.
In fact, when I pay for the room later at the reception, I clarify that as a pilgrim I only have to pay a reduced price. It is no comfort to me. The whole time it has come to the fore for me that it is only about the profitability of the company. Perhaps after my experience at the Füchsle I had wrong or too high expectations of this house.
I just completely lack the pilgrimage here. Or to whom is high, at least a little warmth and interest. In Wörishofen there are a few other contact points that are designated as pilgrim-friendly and that are perhaps more central on the way.
I will next visit prefer another accommodation.
That decision has been made.
