Cologne & Around – Actual Köln, Food & Kölsch

Cologne has got an interesting beer culture which I didn’t know about until after I’d thrown money at the mighty Ryanair for the privilege of cramming myself into one of their fine pressurised metal tubes for just over an hour. If I’d have known about I’d have come sooner! Let’s talk about the beer because it’s one of the most important things you’ll need to know about visiting Cologne as a human who partakes in the consumption of tasty cold booze related beverages. Or at least we’ll talk about the bits I remember on account of the… well… the beer.

Gaffel. You’ll see this advertised all over the city.

Kölsch is uniquely Cologne. In order for it to be called Kölsch is has to be brewed within 50 kilometres of the city, unless you were already brewing outside of these limits before 1986 when it became geographically protected according to the Kölsch-Konvention. You want to start brewing it outside of the city today but still call it Kölsch? Tough titties, sunshine. There are several different brands which you’ll see all over the city. Gaffel seems very popular, you see that brand plastered all over the place. I saw quite a few places advertising Reissdorf too, and I’d read that one of the biggest and best known was Früh which has a massive Brauhaus by the cathedral, complete with a shop next door flogging Früh merchandise. I didn’t buy anything from there, I just slipped a beer mat into my pocket to join the mounting number of beer mats I’d collected from around the city. I think I’ve doubled our collection in one trip.

Früh Kölsch. Also very popular. The check marks on the coaster are how many I’ve had. You have to put the coaster on top to show that you’re done.

A tour guide I had who started the tour by telling us “most” of his stories would be true said the red label beers (Früh, Reissdorf) were the best and the blue labels (Gaffel) tasted like piss water. Obviously I had to fact check literally everything he told us so I tried as many as I could for science, and there’s honestly not a huge difference as far as I can tell, though it’s worth noting that I have the palette of a springer spaniel. They’re all brewed the same way, they’re all about the same strength, they’d all quench a thirst on a hot day, and they’re all served in 200ml glasses called a Stange. It’s a weirdly dainty way to drink a beer in a country most people associate with litre Steins but it’s something to do with keeping the beer crisp, cold and fizzy for the entirety of the drink. I had to make a concerted effort to not see them off in three swift gulps. They’ll also automatically be replaced with a fresh one by the Köbes (waiters) who’ll mark how many you’ve had on a coaster until you place said coaster on top of the glass to signal that your motor functions are satisfactorily impaired and you’ve had enough carbonated hop water for one evening, thank you very much.

Lydi wasn’t due until Tuesday afternoon. I did have a 10am walking tour booked but that was cancelled due to lack of interest, so I got myself onto a 12pm tour instead and jumped on a tram to a nearby cemetery because I do like a cemetery. Nothing I’d need to go on a register for, you don’t need to start locking your mausoleums, I don’t stalk graveyards in the dead of night clutching a shovel and a tube of lube. I merely enjoy an ostentatious grave and there are loads of fuck off big family graves here. Some are overgrown, some are well kept. Some don’t even have names engraved on the stones yet, possibly bought by the family to inter future generations. It’s not what I’d choose to spend my money on but then a lot of people would raise an eyebrow at Tarrant and me spunking a perfectly good house deposit on a 12 month trip around the world. Anyway, I’d actually come here to see the statue of the Grim Reaper, the king of dead shit, so I got that out of my system and headed to the EL-DE (pronounced ell-dey) House which is the former headquarters of the Gestapo in Cologne.

There are more normal sized graves here too. These, obviously, aren’t them.

Also serves as the grave of the son of the grave site’s patrons, the Steinnus family.

Today it houses the National Socialism Documentation Centre of the City of Cologne; a museum upstairs and a memorial downstairs. It is a great way to thoroughly depress yourself of a morning and I have no idea what I was thinking. It was on my “if I have time” list and I had 90 minutes before my walking tour started. Firstly, 90 minutes isn’t enough time, plus it really should have been on my must-do list. I took the audio guide when offered and that’s really worth it. It begins with a brief history of the building itself, how when it was first built the Gestapo rented it and the apartments upstairs were turned into offices, whilst the garage in the basement became prison cells. After the war it became a local government building where people who had been imprisoned and tortured in the basement now had to visit to draw their pension. It was thanks to a chap called Sammy Maedge who, in the 1970s, made quite a big deal about the building’s previous use that it was eventually turned into what it is today. He, alone, protested outside with a cardboard sign which they have in the museum, telling anyone who would listen about the human beings imprisoned, tortured, and sometimes executed within.

The upper rooms were deliberately stripped back to basics. Given the changes made over time it’s difficult to know what’s original and what was added afterwards. The simplicity of the rooms sort of hammer home the graveness of the subject matter.

The cells in the basement, now a memorial to those who suffered there.

The audio guide took me through the rise of the Nazi party in Cologne, how the party took over, how Naziism looked in the city. Part of the problem was that they weren’t taken seriously enough. Eventually I decided to cut the upper floors short to visit the basement. There were ten cells, terrifyingly tiny, only built to hold a few prisoners between interrogations but they ended up holding many more for weeks on end. Bunks were removed to make room for more prisoners. Hygiene was all but non existent. What went on here was documented on the walls in words and drawings, in many languages, and this is preserved today as a memorial. They talk about hope, love, misery, the torture they went through. Who they were, where they were from, how they didn’t know why they were here, how long they’d been here, or they were here because they hid their friends. People kept in squalid conditions were beaten with chair legs or straps and, eventually, executed by hanging in the courtyard. It’s utterly fucking horrifying. Everyone should definitely visit, if only to remember how all of this was allowed to happen in the first place and have a long, hard look at what’s going on right now.

The tiny cells, only meant to hold a few people between interrogations. They ended up holding far too many people for weeks on end in horrific conditions.

The cell walls are covered in drawings, and words in several languages. They give you a clear snapshot into what life was like.

Right then! Onto things that don’t make you question humanity. I showed up for this walking tour outside a medieval gate called Eigelsteintorburg, but like maaaaany many other things in maaaaany many large German cities, it’s not entirely original. There used to be twelve gates, now there are four, and this one would have been the one Napoleon marched under when he entered the city if the original wasn’t flattened during WWII. We were greeted by an American bloke who has lived in Germany for a long time and he took us around the city to some of the more important landmarks. I shall cover this section with photographs because they’re easier to wade through than obnoxious quantities of words.

Eigelsteintorburg. I think some of it is original, like the middle bit. The top part is clearly restored. It’s a jazz school now.

The Köln coat of arms. The three crown represent the three Magi who visited Jesus, and whose remains are apparently in the Köln Dom. The things that look like twisted rope (I’m not sure what they’re meant to be. Our guide said flames) are for the 11 virgins of St Ursula, who were killed here by the Huns. Over time the story went from 11 virgins to 11000 virgins and the city were selling their bones off. Turns out they were probably bones from an old Roman graveyard. There’s a church in the city that I didn’t get to see this time that houses the bones that weren’t sold off. They’re definitely not the bones of 11 women. Some of them are male, and apparently some are canine.

The town hall. It’s covered in statues of people of significance to the city. Underneath each statue is something that represents that person. For example, Agrippina the Younger was the founder of the city and is rumoured to have poisoned her husband so her son could become the emperor of Rome. Her son was Nero so that worked out well!! She’s represented with a black widow.

The middle statue is Archbishop Konrad von Hochstaden. He was not a popular man and yes, he is represented by a bloke sucking his own dick. To reiterate, yes, this is the actual town hall.

Tünnes und Schäl. Popular puppets from way back, but they often appear at Karnival. Tünnes, on the left, is the country farmer. The proper Köln lad. Schäl is the city bloke who thinks he’s smarter. If you rub the nose of Tünnes its meant to be good luck.

This stone pillar was built in 1969 and is a tribute to Neil Armstrong. Apparently he set foot on the moon 389984 kilometres and 100 metres from Cologne. You’ll thank me when it comes up in the pub quiz.

A reconstructed Roman road. Doesn’t look like something you’d want to drunkenly stumble down if you were quite fond of the current shape of your ankles.

Stumbling Blocks. You’ll see them around. They’re slightly raised from the pavement and remember victims of the holocaust.

I met up with Lydi that afternoon and we kicked off the touristing by climbing the 533 steps up the cathedral’s south spire. It’s very much worth the protests from your entire lower body. Weirdly it didn’t feel like 533 steps, possibly because you’re constantly walking around a spiral staircase and there’s nothing to tell you how far you’ve got left. You can just sort of accept this is your life now and have a long, hard think about all of your choices that led you here. There are plenty of places to stop and die a little bit. Quietly though, please. This is a place of worship.

Köln Dom. This stunner is the first thing that assaults your eyeholes as you leave the main train station.

Some of the detail above the main entrance to the cathedral.

One of the places you can rest and pretend that your lungs haven’t just tried to escape from your gob as you gasp for breath is the bell tower. This houses Petersglocke, the second largest bell in the world. You wouldn’t want to be too close to it when it started swinging if you were quite fond of the current location of your eardrums. It weighs like 24 tonnes or something. I bet the clapper is as big as a human child, but swinging a child against a bell wouldn’t sound as good. You get a really good look at the detail in the various spires and sticky out bits which I believe is the technical term, and the views over the river are brilliant. Inside the cathedral is no less impressive with arches reaching up up up forever. It also houses (apparently) the remains of the three wise men who brought those very useful gifts to the new-born Jesus that any discerning baby about Bethlehem would want. We shall have to take their word for that.

Petersglocke. Nothing for scale so you’ll have to take my word for it. It’s fucking massive.

Your lungs might hate you but your eyeholes will be very happy.

Inside the cathedral. It’ll give you a bit of neck crick.

One of the more modern stained glass windows in the cathedral. Apparently it stirred up a bit of controversy.

Outside the cathedral is a 1:1 replica of the flowers that sit atop the spires at 157 metres. Random humans for scale.

If you want a proper view of the Dom itself you’ll need to cross the Hohenzollern Bridge. People have fastened thousands of locks to the bridge to symbolise love because people are really into doing that for some reason. Like, if you break up do you have to go back, find it, and cut it off? What about the sheer fucking weight of all of those locks? Doesn’t it threaten the integrity of the bridge? There are a few locks attached to the cathedral viewing platform too, dating back to the 90s, probably put there before they put extra wire up. However, I am an absolute sucker for a gimmick and tourists are gonna tourist, and if I was here with Tarrant we would definitely have purchased some manner of locking device to attach to the bridge. Well, it’s The Done Thing™.

The locks make the bridge a whole other attraction to point your camera at as you wander over it until you get to the Köln Triangle, which is a tall building shaped vaguely like a triangle. if you look at it from the top down. Fortunately you don’t have to walk up to the observation platform on the 28th floor, a lift will take you, which is great because my knees had started to have opinions. You’ll get a 360° look at the Rhine, the city, and of course the Köln Dom. I’m a sucker for a view. Even more of a sucker if I don’t have to work for it. You know what they’re missing up here though? A bar. So you can enjoy a tiny beer whilst apply the city liberally to your eyeholes. Though maybe they don’t want people loitering atop their nice building whilst getting slowly intoxicated and that’s fair enough.

No, I’m not yet bored of the Dom/Bridge combo. Sozzers.

As with any self respecting city there are a plethora of places you can eat and/or drink. The Brauhauses are great and I went to as many as them as my liver would allow, but one that stands out is Papa Joe’s Biersalon. I’d found it on Atlas Obscura, one of my favourite websites to plan trips with, so after our day trip to Aachen we popped in to check it out. It’s not just a bar, it’s an experience. They have loads of those old-timey coin operated machines where you can get a joke, tell your fortune based on your eye colour, test your grip strength, you know the type. There’s also a jukebox but it’s not any old thing. You put your coin in, choose the song, and two big puppets called Tünnes and Schäl will “play” it on an accordion and some manner of large, brass instrument which might be a euphonium. Or a tuba. I don’t know, I’m not the brass band police. Also, as a former bartender, I can imagine the dismay of the staff when someone approaches the jukebox, coin in hand. Sorry, barstaff. The bar also makes its own Jäger-like liquor called Schmitz Doctor which is actually really, really enjoyable. Definitely worth a visit.

Your future career told by the colour of your eyes. Obviously very accurate.

Aside from the day trips I’ve spoken about in the previous two posts, eating as much German food as possible, and applying large quantities of Kölsch to our livers, we also popped to Claudius Therme on our last night which was an amazing way to spend a couple of hours when you’ve done a shit tonne of walking around whilst pointing your face at various things like the rampant tourists you are. They have several pools including one that’s a bit hotter than the others and I designated this one as my favourite. I stayed here until my internal organs started to stew. There’s an outdoor pool though it wasn’t quite hot enough given how the temperature drops at night, and a couple of jacuzzies too. Bliss. They do have a bar but I think it’d be frowned upon to bring your drink into the pools. It’s not fucking Benidorm, mate. They also have drinking water fountains but don’t. Just don’t. You can drink it without dying but it’s full of minerals which are meant to be good for you. Apparently “good for you” tastes like salty arse. I’ll stick to beer, thanks.

I mean, drink it if you want. I’m not your minder.

After the baths we finished off with some food and a non-Kölsch beer (which I don’t think gets you barred from the city but I’ll let you know if I ever try to return) at Augustiner am Heumarkt which is a Bavarian restaurant. When Tarrant and I were in Munich I fell in love with a soft cheese called Obatzda and I think about it often. Tarrant wasn’t a fan and said it stank like feet. She would know foot stench, she lives with me and my feet are so fucking toxic they’d be banned in several countries if didn’t regularly and liberally coat them with foot-stench-suppressor. Anyway, I digress. I got my Obatzda fix, we had a Helles in a reasonably sized glass, headed back to the apartment for a last beer and a chat, then crashed out after a very successful catch up.

I will admit that it’s not much to look at but Obatzda is one of my most favourite things to apply liberally to my facehole.

After Lydi and I said our goodbyes in the morning she went to check out an art gallery and, because I am an uncultured swine, I rounded off my time in Köln with a few more Kölsches sipped outside beneath the fiery skyball before I had to return to the pissing rain of Manchester. I chose Früh am Dom on account of the fact I’d not been there yet, it was close to the Hauptbahnhof, and it’s apparently one of those must-do places if you’re a shameless tourist which I absolutely am. The Köbe kept the Stanges flowing until I placed my coaster on top like a fucking pro, and I made my way to the airport. I could get far too used to not having to ask for the beer. I could even get used to the teeny tiny little glasses. I really like Cologne, and I think Germany is really growing on me too. Yes. More of this, please.

For Your Facehole

Sauerbraten. Some manner of dead thing, deer in this case, marinated for bloody ages in vinegar, herbs, spices, all those things that’ll make anything taste brilliant. It’s a Germany-wide dish but I’d read it originated in this region so it seemed fitting to eat it here. I found it at Brauhaus Reissdorf which serves, obviously, Reissdorf Kölsch. It was served with a veritable vat of red cabbage and those utterly banging potato dumplings that somehow make spuds even better. It was way too much food, I’m not going to lie. Every time I moved a bit of meat there was yet more meat lurking underneath it. I eventually had to make the decision to abandon the cabbage in favour of the meat and potato, but even the potato had to be side lined as I continued to assault my digestive system with bit of dead deer. I had to admit defeat. My stomach was at capacity. Any more and we’d be recreating a certain Monty Python scene involving a wafer thin mint. It wasn’t as tangy as I though it would be either which was slightly disappointing given my general love of all things tangy, but it was good.

Himmel und Ääd. Translating as Heaven and Earth, but the “Ääd” is the Cologne dialect. The heaven is apple sauce and the earth is the pile of mashed potatoes underneath. I knew it came with black pudding and I do really like black pudding, but when this landed on my table I thought, well that’s a little bit too much congealed blood for me! It was actually very different to the black pud you’d get on your full English, somehow fluffier, less dense. I’ve since found out that it’s a regional variation called Flönz which has PGI status. I had this at Brauhaus Schreckenskammer which has what turned out to be a favourite version of Kölsch.

Currywurst. It is compulsory when in Germany to consume your body weight in currywurst. A classic. No notes.

Reibekuchen. Potato pancakes served with apple sauce. They’re mad for their apple sauce around here! Simple, delicious, will burn your fingers as you try to dip it in the sauce. Cracking little snack to stop your stomach from digesting itself between meals. This is from Am Drachenbrunnen Imbiss & Gartenwirtschaft, just down the hill from Schloss Drachenburg.

Mettbrötchen. Yeah mate, it’s raw pork and I had my reservations. It’s seasoned with salt and pepper and served on a roll with chopped, raw onions. It has no fucking right being as delicious as it is! I couldn’t look at it whilst I was eating it though. This is from a butchers near where we were staying called Fleischerfachgeschäft Marc Odenkirchen. I sent a photo to a German friend who lives in Egypt and she replied with a voice note saying, “Ah you are a good girl! This is a proper German breakfast!” I sent a photo to Tarrant and she told me to enjoy the worms she was convinced I’d contract. Ah, cultural differences.

Jump to “Useful shit to know…”

Köln/Cologne, Nordrhein-Westfalen/North Rhine-Westphalia, Deutschland/Germany

Stayed at: LaLuna – Wohlfühl City Apartment im Herzen der Stadt, Cologne, Germany

Useful shit to know…

Getting Around

KVB is the local public transport network. You can buy tickets through the app or at ticket machines at the stops. I believe paper tickets need to be validated when you get on the bus or tram.
There is, apparently, a paper ticket for visitors called the Kölncard which gives you unlimited travel for 24 or 48 hours. You can have one for yourself, or if you’re travelling as a group it’s better value to get the one valid for up to five people. There’s more info HERE.
I had a Deutschland Ticket which costs €63 a month and gets you on any regional train, S-Bahn, U-Bahn, local bus, or tram.
You don’t have to show your ticket when you get on a bus, they just sort of trust that you have one.

Deutschland Ticket

For €63 a month you can travel all over Germany on regional trains and local public transport. You can’t use the long distance, high speed trains such as IC or ICE. So you could spend the best part of €100 to get from Munich to Berlin in 4.5 hours, or use your Deutschland Ticket but it’ll take closer to nine hours and you have to change five times. See, that just sounds like a fun adventure to me!
I bought mine through the DB Navigator app and had to enter my bank details. I assumed that they’d just take the money but they didn’t and instead sent me an email saying I had to send it to their bank. I did this and that was sorted. I’ve since found out you can’t use non-EU banks (thanks, Brexit) but if you do it through a city’s local transport app you can pay by credit card. It doesn’t matter which city.
IT IS A SUBSCRIPTION!! The cut off for cancellations is the 10th of the month. So I only wanted it for the last few days in February. I bought it early in the month and cancelled before the 10th February. It remained valid until the 28th.
If your trip straddles two months you’ll need it for both months thus doubling the price so you’ll need to do some maths to see if it’s worth it.

Miscellaneous

The National Socialism Documentation Centre of the City of Cologne is in the city, the closest U-Bahn stop is Appellhofplatz. It cost €6.50 including the audio guide.
The Köln Dom is free to enter but you can’t bring luggage or large backpacks in. Their baggage allowance is stricter than Ryanair! Remove your cap and dress appropriately.
It cost us €8 each to climb the south spire.
The walking tour was booked through GuruWalk. The original one was the Funky-fun Tour of Cologne but it looks like they do cancel a lot of tours. I ultimately went with Classic Cologne – Free Walking Tour With Freewalk Cologne. The tip has to be cash only and, as with all these things, it’s pay what you feel.
It was €5 to take the lift up the Köln Triangle.
Claudius Therme was a brilliant idea! It’s slightly cheaper through the week and you can choose to buy a day ticket, or just stay for two or four hours. You don’t have to decide on the way in, you’re given a wristband that knows how long you’ve been (and also operates your locker) and you pay on the way out. More details on prices and opening times HERE.