We’re quickly learning that Gasthof means a friendly welcome

The Pope is a munchkin? Surprising Freising

The lift is like something out of Starship Command; all luminous numbers and flashing arrows. Cameron beams us up to the second floor to fill our room with panniers, and then teleports us back to ground floor to fill our stomachs with food. The restaurant part of the Gasthof Lerner is almost a century old and the beer is something of a national treasure too. Soon I am holding a stein full of the ‘oldest beer in the world’. A pleasingly sweet wheat beer, which we decide would go really well with some traditional Bavarian food. How fortunate then, that there’s an English menu, and soon, a table spread with goulashsuppe, meatloaf, roast potatoes and bread. It’s like my dream Sunday lunch.

“I love Goulashsuppe,” says Cameron, who picks up a spoon and soon gets to work on the bowl.

“I love goulashsuppe, I want goulashsuppe! What is goulashsuppe?” says Hannah, who proceeds to polish off a whole bowlful of the meaty broth.

After a day spent dodging rain showers and taking short cuts that turn into lengthy diversions, we are starting to warm up.

But then Gasthof Lerner provides a very warm Bavarian welcome, especially to cyclists. It is part of the’ Bett and Bike’ network, and knows how to treat its customers. We are met at the door by Johannes, the youngest son of the owner, who offers us a huge key to the bike shed. Johannes has already e mailed us today to say he is looking forward to welcoming us, and he makes it clear we only have to ask for anything we want in this modern yet century old hotel.

Murals add a nice traditional touch at Gasthof Lerner, Freising

Family hospitality for a hundred years

Gasthof Lerner goes back to 1919, when the current owner’s grandmother sold coal and ran a farm to make a living until she had the bright idea of catering for the stomachs of others. The restaurant stayed in the family for the next 90 years, reinventing itself with the gastronomic interests of various managers or chefs. Johannes laughs as he remembers it was once even a Greek restaurant. The adjoining modern block of the hotel arrived with the Munich Olympics, but its main body of customers comes from the nearby University, which is famous in Germany for its Life Sciences department. Both hotel and restaurant are still run by two generations of the Killermann family. Johannes is the youngest of five children, and gave up an apprenticeship in the tax office to help his mother in the hotel.

Drinking beer in the Gasthof Lerner dining room. Cheers

Freising is surprising

The town of Freising has a similarly young and old past. Weihenstephan, the ‘oldest brewery in the world’ is based here, and its brewing tradition goes back 1000 years to the Benedictine monks; the strong beer was developed to help the monks get through the Lenten fast period. Church and tavern still rule the tourist side of the town today. Brewery tours are a must for the visitor, along with a visit to Freising Cathedral, or the Diocesan museum which is amongst the world’s largest religious museums. The current Pope Benedict XVI has strong connections to the town, he attended the priests’ seminary on Cathedral Hill and was reputed to be one of the most outstanding professors of the institution. And during his time as Archbishop of Munich and Freising, he regularly visited the city.

The square in Freising

Munchkins are foe not friends

In the morning the sun comes out and we make our now daily visit to a bike shop to sort out another damaged cog.

“Where have you come from?”asks the bicycle engineer. “Munich? Ha!” he says, poking at the drag break on the tandem. “People from Munich and Freising are not friends.”

I home in on this as I love a good bust up. But the story is hard to keep up with; something to do with the salt route and a bridge and a man with some explosives and a grudge. We walk the streets of Freising and up to the cathedral trying to spot enemy Munichers, or Munchkins as the boys soon label them.

“Is that a Munchkin?” says Hannah, about almost every resident we pass . “Is that one? That must be a munchkin!” she exclaims, pointing to a bronzed figure on the wall of the entrance to Freising Cathedral.

“No that’s the Pope,” says Stuart. Sure enough it is. In the commemorative bronze relief of Joseph Ratzinger he holds out a hand, and a staff. Cameron loves a walking stick and tries to appropriate it.

“You can’t steal from the Pope,” says Matthew, his strict moral compass coming to the fore.

“I didn’t know the Pope was a Munchkin.” says Hannah.

Street Scene, Freising, Germany

Disclosure note: Thanks to Johannes Killerman of Gasthof Lerner who provided us with accommodation to allow us to bring you this story.