Hold on tight because just on the other side of Peiting is the Ammer Gorge. There you will find…
When I headed out to find Schleyer Falls the first time, I had to turn around when I realized I’d started out from the wrong place. The second time, I turned off before (instead of after) the Ammer Bridge and trudged along the wrong side of the river, deeper and deeper into the woods, until I finally arrived at the edge of a steep gorge. If I’d taken one more step, I might have landed in the raging torrent of the Ammer almost a hundred feet below me-and this book would never have been written! Sweating and suffering low blood sugar, I didn’t want to believe I’d gotten lost. I kept trudging on aimlessly until coming to an idyllic meadow full of flowers. Unfortunately, I have hay fever. Nowhere was a waterfall to be seen, but I did encounter a few helpful bicyclists, and while they had no idea how to get to Schleyer Falls, they were able to direct me back to where I came from.
Schleyer Falls became an obsession over the course of my research. So when I finally found it, I was a bit disappointed. Perhaps, after all my hardships, I expected something at least as impressive as Niagara Falls. But Schleyer Falls is rather small; the water flows over moss-covered limestone, forming a fine silver curtain of mist. If you are lucky and go in the off-season, you’ll have it all to yourself and feel as if you’re in one of Caspar David Friedrich’s paintings.
The entire area is a honeycomb of caves large enough to hide entire armies of bandits and was thus exactly right for the robbers’ smoke-filled lair in my novel.
For all those who don’t wish to get as hopelessly lost as I did, here is a description of the most scenic route: Coming from Saulgrub, walk down to the Ammer. After the bridge, the route climbs again and turns sharply to the right after the power plant. After a good twenty minutes, the path winds down again into the valley. There you’ll find yourself face to face with Schleyer Falls.
Pause with me for a few moments of reflection, then follow me to…
Wessobrunn is a bit far from the other riddle locations. It would be best to take a car or make a special bicycle trip there, either from Schongau or from Ammer Lake (Ammersee). If you approach it by bicycle from Dießen, as I did, it’s a long, uphill climb. It might have even been faster on foot, but I made it all the way without dismounting-so try to follow my example!
If you do, you’ll enjoy the rest stop all the more at the three springs by the former Benedictine monastery, which stands in solitary splendor on a hill south of Ammer Lake. Some of the best stucco workers in all of Europe once lived in this area, but nowadays the monastery and the village are sleepy. Don’t be surprised if the locals glare at you from behind the safety of their garden fences. When I stopped to ask an elderly man if I could rent a room for the night, he eyed me suspiciously, but by breakfast the next morning, he’d poured out his entire life story and told me about the best bike route back to Schongau. People in the Priests’ Corner just need time to warm up to you.
Many of the front doors in town bear the names of once-famous families of artists. If it interests you, go to the Post Tavern (Gasthof zur Post) and ask to see the dance hall, whose ceiling brings the storied past back to life. East of the village, you’ll find the yew forest that Simon and Benedikta passed through, where they met the presumed highwaymen.
Some of the sisters offer tourists an interesting tour of the monastery interior. When you see the magnificent stuccowork on the ceilings, you’ll understand why Wessobrunn craftsmen were known as far away as Venice. The halls and rooms here, by the way, served as models for the Steingaden library in the book.
The old Romanesque tower where Simon and Benedikta found the collection of precious books is at the far end of the building. I don’t know whether it was ever used as a library, but the massive defensive tower could have offered valuable protection during the Thirty Years’ War.
At the time of Simon and Benedikta’s travels, the so-called Wessobrunn Prayer, one of the oldest prayers in the German language, was, in fact, safeguarded here in this monastery. Now you’ll find it housed in the Bavarian State Library (Bayerische Staatsbibliothek).
Leaving the monastery, if you turn right and follow the outer wall for about ten minutes, you’ll come to the famous Tassilo Linden, where Simon almost broke his neck. Anyone who wants to check that there is, in fact, a plaque with a riddle up in the tree should be warned. There’s a hornet nest up there!
So it might be best to move along to…
Yes, the holy relics of Primus and Felicianus really do exist! Though not-as during the Thirty Years’ War-standing upright with swords in hand and crowns of laurels on their skulls. Instead, you’ll find they’re almost invisible among the richly carved reliquaries up front in the chancel. Try to find them amid all the cherubs, stuccowork, and statues! It took me a while-with the help of a kind nun.
The other relics that the superintendent, Michael Piscator, mentions were also in the monastery’s possession at that time: St. Binosa’s teeth, St. Mary’s hair and fragments from her robe, as well as relics of Pancratius, Blasius, Valerius, Virgilius, Johannes, Philippus, Bartholomew, Thekla, and Brigida…And those are only a small fraction of the treasures.
For anyone overwhelmed by all the Baroque splendor-the gold and stuccowork of the former Augustine monastery church-I recommend leaving the church through the little gate at the rear of the property. From there it is a beautiful walk down to the Ammer Gorge-past trees, cows, and little chapels. God can be found everywhere in the Priests’ Corner.
Then follow me along to…
The grand finale! At first I wanted the novel’s final scenes to unfold at Schleyer Falls, but then I happened on an old monastery floor plan dating from 1803 that showed a playhouse. A theater in a monastery! After that I couldn’t resist devoting a final scene here to my antagonist, in the truest sense of the word.
The playhouse is now in private hands and no longer has much in common with my concept of a monastery playhouse. The library, the secret subterranean passageways, and Magdalena’s prison in the chapel are all inventions. I’m sorry. I recommend you just sit down with a glass of Weißbier (a type of German wheat beer) in the little tavern nearby, close your eyes, and just imagine the rest. What I can show you, however, is the Romanesque cloister connected to the church where Simon met Abbot Augustin Bonenmayr for the first time. (That is the actual name of the abbot at that time. The correct spelling of his last name has pursued me like a curse.) There is also a St. John’s Chapel that, in fact, stood at another location originally. And naturally, there is a Guelph crypt directly beneath the church, its entrance decorated with a gravestone whose inscription I quoted in the book. I didn’t dare try to raise it up. Who knows? Perhaps there are secret tunnels down below!
If you’re looking for the Steingaden Wies Church (Wieskirche), the pearl of Bavaria’s Baroque period, you will search my book in vain. It wasn’t constructed until the eighteenth century, but you ought to visit this magnificent place just the same.