Germany welcomed me back the moment I landed—Munich Airport was smooth sailing, no delays, no chaos, just a quick Uber to the little town of Freising. It’s only about fifteen minutes away, but it feels like stepping into another world. When I arrived, the hotel and restaurant had just reopened after being closed for a while, and I ended up being their very first customer. They celebrated by putting out a big table filled with free wine and spirits for anyone who wandered in. Not a bad welcome back to Germany.

Freising is small, charming, and exactly the kind of place where you can hear your own footsteps on cobblestone streets. The restaurant attached to the hotel was fantastic. I had schnitzel and polished it off with dessert, went to bed full and happy, and got up at 5:30 the next morning for a proper German breakfast before hopping on the train to Munich.

Munich became a bit of a hub for me this trip—not just for tours, but for family. I met my son Joshua and his wife Lauren there. They work for R.J. Reynolds and were in town visiting a sister factory, and our paths overlapping in Germany felt like one of those quiet gifts travel sometimes gives you. We managed to have dinner together a few times throughout the week, sitting around tables sharing stories, laughter, and plates that were never quite empty long enough. With them were their friends and coworkers Ashley and Madison, a married couple from North Carolina and Emma, who is from the UK and works with Lauren. They quickly became part of the rhythm of the trip and watching my son navigate the world so comfortably—career, marriage, friendships—was a reminder that travel changes over time. At some point, you stop just collecting stories and start passing something along.

I met my tour guide there and headed to Rothenberg—though I kept calling it Rosenberg for half the day. The Medici Village, the walled city, and Harburg Castle (which survived World War II largely because the Americans used it) were all incredible. The whole place feels like Christmas year-round. There’s an actual Christmas Museum, and the streets feel like you’ve wandered into a holiday snow globe even in the middle of fall. I spent about three hours roaming around, meeting friendly strangers along the way, wandering cobblestone roads with timber-framed buildings, and ducking in and out of little shops. Rothenberg honestly felt like a fairy tale brought to life.

Back in Munich, travel reminded me that plans are always optional suggestions. I had a classic train-station moment trying to work the ticket machine when a guy offered to sell me a ticket for ten euros. Turns out it was dated for the previous day. Another man leaned over and whispered, “He’s trying to rob you.” Lesson learned—again. Later in the week, we ran into a much bigger train problem when there was an accident that backed everything up. Tour guides were scrambling, no one seemed sure what was happening, and schedules were unraveling fast. That’s when Ashley quietly pulled out her phone, figured out exactly where the train next to us was headed, mapped out an alternate route, and got us to our destination without missing a beat. Ashley absolutely saved the day. It was one of those moments you don’t forget—the calm problem-solver stepping up when everyone else is frozen.

The next morning was devoted to Neuschwanstein Castle, and no matter how many times you’ve seen the pictures, nothing prepares you for the real thing. It really does look like the inspiration for Disney’s castle—because it was. Newly renovated after five years of careful work, the inside is magnificent. King Ludwig II was a colorful, complicated figure, and you can see both his imagination and his instability reflected in the walls. It’s extravagant, dramatic, and honestly stunning.

Getting there was an adventure of its own. I tried to take an Uber to the train station, but we put in the wrong address and ended up miles from where we needed to be. We rushed back across town, sprinting like we were in an airport rom-com, and somehow—miracle of miracles—we made the train. Luckily for us, it was running late. That’s the thing about traveling: the mishaps end up being half the fun. They’re the stories you actually remember.

The following day took us even higher—literally. We went up to Zugspitze, the highest mountain in Germany. Took the cable cars 10,000 feet up to the top, shopped in tiny villages along the way, and stood right on the Austrian border surrounded by the Alps. The mountains were unbelievable—like standing in front of a painting where someone forgot to tell the artist to tone it down.

After admiring the view, we crossed over into Salzburg, Austria. Mozart, The Sound of Music, elegant 17th-century buildings along the river—it lives up to the hype. The market was bustling and full of energy, and I couldn’t resist grabbing some cheese and sausage to take back with me.

From fairy-tale towns to mountain peaks, I’m still thinking about, Germany had everything I love about travel: beauty, good food, unexpected twists, and people you remember long after the plane ride home. It felt good to be back.