Lübeck: the Hanseatic Ex-Powerhouse
I had always wanted to visit Lübeck, captivated by images of its magnificent Gothic architecture. So, when an opportunity arose to make the trip, I seized it without hesitation.
This time, I won't dive straight into the highlights; instead, I'll take a more narrative approach. As is often the case, the best comes at the end.
Upon arriving at the terminus of the regional route, I was greeted by a bright, lightweight canopy of the Central Station (Hauptbahnhof Lübeck). It reminded me of a similar one in Kaliningrad. But, after all, the sheds of German train stations share a similar look, more or less.
The train station building turned out to be an impressive piece of historicist architecture (Neo-Baroque + Neo-Gothic + elements of Jugendstil), built in 1908 by architect Fritz Klingholz.
"Well, a promising start," I said to myself.
I needed to reach my hotel first. It was early Friday afternoon, and I still had work to do. I could have taken a bus, but after a three-hour train ride, I decided to stretch my legs and take a 20-minute walk. My path led through a calm neighborhood full of lovely yet modest villas and traditional German block buildings.
In every German city, one can find the so-called "stumbling stones" (Stolpersteine), and Lübeck is no exception. These stones, as is well known, commemorate the victims of the Holocaust (the one below honors three families) and are placed near their last freely chosen place of residence.
After wrapping up work for the week, I decided to take a walk in the city. This time, I chose a different route, going through the eastern edge of the St. Lorenz suburb and later to the area in the northwest, where the city's fortifications once stood.
Certainly, there wasn't anything left; everything had been torn down a long time ago. But we'll get to that. I did manage to stumble upon certain ruins.
An abandoned factory, and judging by the asphalt of the former parking area, it hadn't been in use for about 15 years or so. Labels on the entrance gate indicated that it was once a facility belonging to the Vion Food Group. The Dutch meat processor left the German market in 2006.
Well, that's a common sight you can see practically anywhere in Germany. Here and there, there are ruins of factories dating back to the 19th century. These are typically listed buildings protected by the government, so no one dares to demolish them. On the other hand, there's usually no enthusiastic investor to breathe new life into them either. In big cities, the ruins are often converted into lofts, coworking spaces, hotels, and apartments. But in small towns or on the outskirts, such structures are destined to stand on the verge of collapse, waiting for what happens next.
The next building was a bit more shocking to contemplate. It's not every day I see a rather modern factory completely trashed like this. There wasn't a single intact window; the blinds hung awkwardly, as if after an airstrike. The loading bays stood wide open.
That was the facility of the Norddeutsche Fleischzentrale—another company specializing in pork processing—which left Lübeck in 2005 due to shifts in the industry.
"Germany is doing great!" popped up in my head.
Right next to this mess stood a true hidden gem of the neighborhood: the building of the St. Lorenz Bad, judging by the bell next to the entrance, now evidently repurposed into a living space.
Cool, I like that.
The churches of the historical center were already within reach.
After crossing the railways, I proceeded to the area of the former fortifications...
...only to find a former harbor area. After the ramparts were demolished in the 18th century, the port took over the freed-up space. But in the second half of the 20th century, it struggled to adapt to containerization. Political and territorial shifts following WWII further reduced its importance, and its utility has declined ever since.
All the way through the area goes the Willy Brandt Alle, and ends with quite depressive district. One may think a street bearing the name of the former chancellor of Germany would be located somewhere in the center, but there we have actually entirely opposite.
On the western side there was a bunch of warehouses (Lagerhausen), apparently waiting for renovation. Some of them are occupied by different venues, so much like in Berlin.
The crane that once served the warehouses and the railroad branch on this side was gone, only the crane rails partially remained. Despite the presence of a parking lot, the place looked ultimately deserted. You need to be extra careful and watch your step, unless you want to take a swim in Trave :)
On the other side of the Wallhalbinsel (island) it was a bit more crowded, people were finishing despite the dull almost rainy weather, and not without particular success, as I must admit. There, where the open air museum Museumhafen Lübeck began, I could see many docked boats and yachts, as well as four absolutely stunning turret and portal cargo cranes made of riveted steel.
These cranes used to go back and forth along the river bank, moving goods between docked ships, warehouses and train wagons located underneath.
All covered with rust, mud stains and vegetation, undoubtfully unmaintained and hence inoperable for quite a while, they still serve as a stunning example of technical marvel of yesteryears.
Like giant alien space invaders they stood there, absolutely dominant. Cargo ships don't visit the harbor anymore, but the cranes are still standing proudly.
The closest to the city was a warehouse, already re-purposed into a hotel/restaurant/club and perhaps even living quarters, with three additional stores added. Surely all those were listed structures, and soon local business would advance the re-development further and take over the entire island.
I crossed Trave over the Drehbrücke (Swinging Bridge). The bridge was another historic structure, a swinging (turning) bridge, quite common for Germany. The bridge span would turn almost 90 degree to let the ships pass, the process is controlled from the bridge's control post.
The mechanics of the bridge was still very much alive and operational. Behind the windows of a small glass and steel fachwerk cabin I heard the sound of functioning machinery, and saw a cup of coffee standing on the operator's deck.
Before entering the city, let's set the expectations right. Lübeck, like many german cities, suffered from devastating blow of World War II. In the matter of fact, Lübeck was the first city to experience the new tactics of Allied airstrikes, where planes were coming in waves: the first wave would drop the explosives, tearing the roofs away, while the second would follow with the incendiary shells, setting the buildings on fire.
So, on the 28th of March 1942 the city center, mostly consisted of old timber buildings, ignited like a matchbox. German wikipedia says, that day over 300 people lost their lives, more than 15k went homeless. The Cathedral of Lübeck, other churches sustained heavy damage. The Cathedral musem turned into a charred box together with all its cultural heritage. The 1.5k building were lost to the fire, 2k seriously damaged.
The city was spared from the artillery shelling later, because the governor of Lübeck was smart enough to surrender without a fight.
The scale of destruction can be seen on the photos in this article. Nevertheless, after looking at the photos of other cities soon after the war ended I can totally say: I've seen much worse. For instance, Warsaw in Poland was levelled to the ground, when there were literally not a couple of walls standing where there used to be densely developed neighborhoods.
After the war the restoration began, reusing everything salvageable and with accordance to the archive blueprints. However, some ruined and badly damaged buildings were demolished, such as the Dom Museum. That looks strange to me, as according to the photos the building of the museum wasn't beyound salvation. The facades were still standing, and the concrete-based building techniques that could in theory be used were already known.
Nevertheless, the city was rebuilt, however, it isn't Regensburg or Amsterdam, as the building replicas are easily distinguishable from the authentic ones still standing today.
Right, enough rust, despair and gloominess, time to see some good stuff.
It was nice to see the substantial amount of brick gothic medieval merchant houses with stepped gables actually survived (or at least the facades did). Today they are part of the UNESCO heritage.
I assume though, that at least certain merchant buildings are replicas or partial replicas at least, possibly rebuilt using rubble and parts from their lost predecessors.
Brick arched wall braces like these can be seen in many old towns across the entire Europe, but normally they are designed to support two adjacent walls separated by a very narrow passage. Here, however, the arches are thrown over a quite wide street, which is rather uncommon.
Ever wondered why the medieval buildings were so tightly built next to each other? Well, three reasons:
- The space behind the city walls was limited.
- Due to poor thermal isolation, the buildings needed to be close to each other to save heat more efficiently.
- The city tax was usually calculated based on how wide the building was towards the street it was located on, so it lead to buildings being narrow, tall and long.
If you happen to find yourself next to an overly pompous medieval house, know this: it's probably a guild house, Lübeck retained several of them after the war. So basically a guild house was a meeting place, a venue, and a symbol of power for the members of a certain guild: a merchant guild, a sailors guild and so on.
This particular house above is the Sailors Guild ("Schiffergesellschaft") house. On the medallions framing the entrance it says: "Allen zu gefallen ... ist unmöglich" ("It is impossible to please everyone"). Such a wise statement this is.
And where have I seen similar medallions? Ah yes, in another ex-Hansa city - Danzig.
I am just kidding, they are actually called "Gänge" - small passages on the ground floor of certain buildings. This is another medieval relict and a distinct feature of the city. Basically the idea was, that a house owner could build smaller houses for the servants behind the main house. Those servants didn't use to have access to the main building, so they had to pass through the arch to get to the inner courtyard.
Today some walkways are still available for hubmle quiet visitors, while the others are strictly private and marked with corresponding sighs, chains or even closed behind fences.
Every such "Gang" bears its own name and a corresponding sign and a house number, e.g. "Garbereiter-Gang 77", or "Bäcker-Gang 43" and so on.
There are also "Wege" 😂 - a more recent development of "Gänge". In that case it allowed an entire carriage to pass through. Such things are more common in Germany and in many towns buildings dating from the 19th century and later can be seen having them.
Now looking at the photos on Google of what's behind that Sievers Torweg I realize it was a total miss from my end to refrain from going through. It's just I had an unpleasant experience of going into a passage similar to this one before, while exploring another town. That passage led to a private territory, and upon entering it I faced a quite unpleasant conversation with the tenants. So I was kind of afraid to push my luck this time.
Well, a solid reason to come visit Lübeck again.
At 9:00PM Firday the streets slowly started to turn deserted. The majority of people travelled home or hit pubs :)
In this area of the city center there was the Marienkirche and the Town Hall ("Rathaus"), but they were basically surrounded with modern buildings. In front of the Hall there was a huge ugly building of Karstadt (how typical for Germany), now abandoned.
Typical post-war german city is such an architectural patchwork of old and modern buildings.
So, on my way back to the hotel after a concert (yes, I came to Lübeck for a concert), I took lots of photos as usual, but most of them sucked, because of poor lighting conditions. However, as I never had a chance to pass by the Dom on the next day, I'll post a few photos from my late evening walk.
The cathedral, as many of them do, gave skyscraper-like vibes: it's 132 meters tall, dominating above everything else around. The construction began in 1173 and lasted for long 74 years, having the building completed in 1247. What a project!
During the WW2 the cathedral suffered heavy damage. Yes, wars a like this: people dedicate their lives to one lifetime project of building a cathedral, and then many centuries after some idiots push buttons to let it all burn. The Lübecker Dom endured, however, and after the war it was restored as close as possible to the original, but with some modern modifications as well. On the picture you may see the patchwork of bricks of the main facade, some bricks date back to the early period, while the others are relatively new.
I should get inside next time I am in Lübeck.
So, Lübeck, as we know, had extensive fortification system during the medieval times. There were four main gates, two of them are still standing.
- Holstentor - the western gate, the main tourist attraction today
- Burgtor - facing north, still standing
- Mühlentor - eastern ones, now lost
- Hüxtertor - southeastern, also demolished
Each gate had several structures: the inner, middle and the outer passage with towers. The structures were connected with systems of bridges thrown over the city moat. The area between the gates was protected with a defence line of bastions and a city wall. In other words, there was a lot to look at.
Today all of that, except for the the Holstentor, Burgtor, the "Katze" bastion and the remnants of the citywall is lost to time. Now a question may arise: "Why? Why would the city governers do that, that's insane to loose such heritage?!".
Well, after a quick round of research I dug up the following reasons:
- The defence system originally built in the XII century has lost it's significance due to military advancements, and essentially became a burden.
- In the XIX century an new urbanisation trend emerged, that dictated fashion for wide, open spaces, full of light and air. The roads were supposed to become wide to let the traffic flow through the city unobstructed. So Lübeck didn't want to fall behind, they wanted to stay modern.
- I bet the gates fell into the state of disrepair quite quickly, and noone wanted to finance the restoration.
Also let's keep in mind, that mass tourism (to which all that heritage partially serve) wasn't yet a thing, as the means of transportation were still quite primitive.
So, after levelling the bastions, ramparts and gates, a lot of new free space appeared. On the north the space was taken over by the havens, in the middle — sparse residential area appeared, and only on south, where the Katze bastion still stands, there is green area today. If you look at the google maps, you will notice the line of the city moat's bank bearing sort of a starry-shape. This is the silhouette of the long gone ramparts still present nowadays.
Yes, the authorities undeniably made a huge mistake, as with the gates still standing Lübeck could have undoubtfully rivaled other old cities such as Prague. Nevertheless, it's hard to blame the people, as they were guided by the trends and challenges of their own time.
As a small curtecy to the now perished historical legacy, a set of models of the gates were installed here in there, giving tourists a chance to have a glimpse of the lost treasures.
There is a couple funny stories about the Mühlentor.
First of all, the middle section of the gate was removed in 1809, but shortly after, in the end of the same century — in 1895, a temporary replica of the structure was erected as the entrance portal of an industrial exhibition. The replica was made of cheap, flimsy materials and didn't last long. The photo of that replica exists, and it can be easily mistaken for the historical photo of the Mühlentor itself.
Secondly, in 1941 a military bunker disguised as one of two towers of the outer section of the Mühlentor was erected by nazis. It still stands today, however unfinished.
I've visited the Holstentor next morning, but totally missed the Burgtor. Another reason to come back.
I still haven't made a decision at what time to depart to Berlin. I thought of selflessly leaving the hotel in the morning at 5:00AM, then walk to the city center to see the Holstentor — the primary objective of this trip and take some photos free of a tourist mob.
After waking up at roughly 9:00 AM, I took shower and departed.
Finally, I've reached the place. Behold: the "Holstentor". Such a beauty.
On the field side there is an inscription "Concordia Domi Foris Pax" - a shortened version of "Concordia domi et foris pax sane res est omnium pulcherrima" - "Harmony at home and peace abroad are indeed the most beautiful things of all". This inscription dates from 1871.
The metal hooks on the facade were supposed to be used to hang sandbags to minimize the damage from projectiles hitting the building.
On the city side there is another inscription: "S.P.Q.L." - "Senatus Populusque Lubecensis" in latin ("The senate and people of Lübeck"). This is a hommage to the ancient Roman "S.P.Q.R." - "Senatus Populusque Romanus" ("The senate and people of Rome"). The 1477 is allegendly the date of the construction (but that's wrong, because the right year is 1478), and 1871 is the year of the first restoration.
Along the facade two decorative belts go with terracota tiles. Most of the tiles depict flowers (lilies), but there are also ones that contain a two headed eagle - the coat of arms of Lübeck, and two banner carriers.
The towers of the gate have noticeable tilt accumulated over time. The southern tower slopes to the west, and since there is no reinforced structural connection between the towers, they fall towards each other.
The situation didn't look good, as the structure was sinking and listing rapidly, so on the wave of demolition of other "annoying medieval derelicts", in 1855 it was petitioned to end the last standing section of the Holstentor for good.
However, another group of citizens petitioned for saving the building, and in 1863 the government reached a decision to leave the gates be. In the 1871 the restoration was carried out.
The building was in such a poor shape, that the restorers had to make some educated assumptions. For instance, noone knew what the stepped gables looked like, as no reliable references actually existed, so they had to be rebuild with a healthy portion of imagination. Also, the terracota tiles on the facade, including the coat of arms are said to be a free interpretation.
Alas, the problem with snaky foundations wasn't solved, so yet another round of restoration was performed by nazis in 1934. They've secured the foundation of the buliding with concrete, but also introduced other alterations, such as merging the floors of the northern tower. They've put a swastika on the facade (stolen in 2005) and turned the gates into a museum for the glory of the nation.
We pretend to not notice the year on the door knob.
The final round of restoration happened in 2006 and the gates became ones we see today.
The impression wouldn't be complete without looking what's inside the building. In one of the rooms elements of defence capabilities can be seen. The stone tray just under the window was supposed to be used to pour boiling pitch on the heads of unfortunate attackers, while the chimney was supposed to keep the pitch hot. I say "supposed" because the gates never actually saw any action.
But hey, formidable fortifications are there not only to do actual damage, but also to intimidate, right? Maybe the way the gates looked actually prevented bad people from thinking to take the city over?
To prevent questions about why the gun doesn't match the window — the gun isn't from there, it was transferred from the Katze bastion. The ring on the wall was apparently used to cushion the recoil of the weapon.
The larger windows face the city, whereas the smaller ones directed towards a potential enemy.
What we see today is actually one of the four structures that alltogether were used to be called "das Holstentor".
There is a whole story to it. So, the defence system was being gradually reinforced over time, and then, as we already know, torn down. Here is the timeline:
- Initially there was a gate (later "inner" gate) that stood directly on the bank of the Trave river, letting people through the city walls via the bridge (the leftmost). The year of construction is not known, but no later than 1376.
- In the XV centry the existing fortification was called insufficient, so in 1478 the middle gate appeared (the one we see today). By the time of construction the gate was already technically outdated.
- One hundred years after in 1585 the outer "crooked" gate was erected 20 metres away from the middle gate, where the new ramparts around the city was constructued. The new gate had an intricate Renaissance field facade and totally blocked the view on the middle gate.
- Another hundred years after, in 1621 then next and the final second outer gate was erected as part of the next, second line of ramparts.
- Somewhere in the XVII century the inner gate was replaced by a simplified half-timbered structure.
Then, over a course of a centry all gates but the middle one disappeared:
- In 1794 the half-timbered inner gate was replaced by a lattice-gate.
- In 1808 the second outer gate was demolished.
- In 1828 the inner gate and the city walls were demolished.
- In 1853 the outer gate was demolished to make space for the railways (no longer exist today either).
In the southern tower there is a model of the middle gate, with two parts swinging to the sides, offering a glimpse of the interiors.
The geographical situation of Lübeck allowed it to be come one of the most important (if not the most important) city of the Hansa trade union. That's why the city desparately needed extensive fortification.
However, another problem was safety of sea transportation. To fight piracy on Baltic, the city developed strong military navy.
A true gem of the museum is a model of the city as it was somewhere in the XVII century. The wooden model was made by some scholars at that period, and miracleously survived two world wars. The vertical scale is a bit off though, the ramparts were never that tall, and also the towers look like mini-versions of the Empire State Building, which isn't scientifically accurate either.
The last room of the museum was dedicated to medieval justice and execution.
There, a 300 year old torture rack was exposed. Honestly, I had no desire to take photos, because it wasn't some kind of fake prop created to amuse clients of a local restaurant. Real people were being tortured and murdered using that tool.
On my way out I told myself "Right, the primary objective of this trip was achieved, now goes the extra stuff!"
Right by the gate there are famous "Salzspeicher" - ex-salt warehouses, constructed between 1579 and 1745 to temporarily store salt from Lüneburg. Salt was an extreamly needed commodity, as it was used to preserve fish.
The buildings are in good condition, however the northern speicher experienced drastic modifications: a passage was cut right through the building. That looks like a wild thing to do to a historical building, however perhaps was necessary to alleviate the pedestrian traffic in that place.
I wouldn't have any idea where to go from here, should I avoid talking to a museum worker in Holstentor. It's their job to look after the visitors, and gosh the job is boring. So I guess at least some of them are willing to give you a small free tour, worth a shot to find out.
In my case, the lady gave me a good advise on what else to see in Lübeck.
So, extra stop number one — Die Marienkirche (Ev.-Luth. Kirchengemeinde St. Marien zu Lübeck). I silently named it "The Grim Church", and let me explain why.
The first church on this site was built in the 12th century and was continually expanded over time. Then, around 1300, a new structure with two towers was erected. Its design was inspired by French cathedrals built of natural stone, but the decision was made to construct it using bricks instead. This choice proved successful, and many other churches in northern Germany were subsequently built following a similar concept. As a result, the Marienkirche is often referred to as "the mother of Brick Gothic churches."
The church had a long history, and its interiors used to hold a lot of precious artifacts accumulated over time. Almost all of them were lost during the air raid in 1942. The altar, the organ, numerous medieval wooden artifacts (wikipedia says 36 or so), naval banners and precious paintings: all was lost. That was tremendous loss of German's cultural heritage.
During the air raid the bells rang loudly swinging on the streams of hot air, then two of them partially melted down and fell to the bottom of the south tower, smashing an epitaph and brick floor into pieces. There they lay to this day, serving as a reminder of the horrors of war.
You can imagine the sheer destruction of the building by looking at this photo:
According to the photo below, however, it can be seen, that the vaults actually withstood the bombardment. What is interesting also, is that the buildings behind the church on the left seem to be intact, however they were later replaced by the shopping mall.
The restoration began in 1947 and was completed in 12 years. The interiors were decided to be kept simple, closer to the roots, effectively concluding the nullification of everything that was accumulated. German restorationists and artists pulled off an amazing work, however of course it's not the same church as it used to be.
The next notable artifact of the church is the famous Totentanz kapelle (Dance of Death chapel). Basically, it depicts a series of human figures with dark-skinned eyeless corpses that represent Death standing in between. Death talks to a king, mayer, bishop, knight, merchant, soldier, monk, lady, girl and eventually a child in a cradle. The main idea is that Death eventually comes to all of us, regardless of rank or social position.
What we see today is a printed copy of photo of a medieval replica (around 1700) of an original painting from 1464, so it's a copy of a copy essentially.
The painting was located in a dedicated chapel, that was protected by wooden shields. During the air raid the shields catched fire and collapsed, leading to complete destruction of the chapel, the painting and the organ. Ironically, a lesser meticulously protected chapel next to this one sustained lesser damage.
The chapel's vault was never restored, and a part of a broken vault rib is seen sticking out of the wall today. The stained glass is a modern work, a curtecy to the lost medieval treasure.
Another interesting thing would be the Astronomical clock.
The clock is also a simplified post-war replica of the original one, that dates back to 1566.
The wooden sculptures were lost to the fire, but the ones made of stone and marble were broken into many pieces by the blast. The restorationists had put them back together as a huge jigsaw puzzle.
A broken vault rib from the original interior was left for entorage.
Well, as we can see, after visiting this church there is a lot to think about.
In the church yard there is a sculpture of a Teufel (Devil) that became sort of a mascot of Lübeck. There is a whole urban legend to it, allegendly the devil thought that people wanted to build a pub, and got angry when found out that it was a church they were building. In anger he threw a stone on which he sits today.
It was lunch time, so I had to eat something. My choice fell for a restaurant serving german cuisine with prices above average, but I was bought off by the fact it was a historical building.
It was the Chancellery (Kanzleigebäude), an extension of the Lübeck Town Hall built in 1485 and modified several times after. The building has an elongated profile going along the Breite Strasse. The notable feature of the building is the 50 meters long vaulted gallery on the inner side.
On the second floor there was the Eagle Hall (Adlerssaal) with ceilings filled with paintings depicting different coats of arms of different epochs of Germany, as well as other eagle motifs. Initially I thought it was medieval, but after googling I found out that it was painted quite recently - during the last renovation in 1939.
At the same time the mosaic on the ground floor was created. It depicts wild cats running under the Sun. On the wall there was the coat of arms (Wappen) made of stone, probably medieval (until proven otherwise 😂)
So the Town Hall (Rathaus) of Lübeck is a building dating from 1240. I won't even start describing it's history and appearance, because after two fires, two wars, several renovations and extensions it's basically a patchwork of different styles and epochs. Sealed and cut-through arches and doors, an incredible mix of gothic, renessance and baroque, massive gables and fake windows - this is what the Town Hall of Lübeck is.
It's hard to visually miss five amazing shield-like gables with fake windows and massive round holes (apparently made to reduce the windage of the construction).
The Town Hall, just like the Chancellery, has a beautiful arcade, with a vaulted gallery on the inner side. The arcade is a mix of gothic and renessance styles.
In the arcade there is an interesting monument, which says "Die Heimat wartet auf euch" (The Homeland waits for you).
It's dedicated to german people kept captive in camps of U.S.S.R. and other countries after the war, who are still waited for.
The arcade is partially taken over by the Niederegger Arkadencafe, which in my opinion is an aesthetical mistake.
I bet the owners of the cafe pay a good rent to the city.
Too bad I missed my chance to visit the interiors of this truly majestic building! The guided tour starts on the weekend at 13:00, but the amount of tickets is limited, so a guest should come exactly at 12:00 to get one. I came at 12:50 and screwed it up.
Inside you can find cute hommages to the dragon theme, and absolutely astonishing staircase in the vestibule, decorated with black glazed ceramic tiles. Mmmmmahhh.
The front door handles don't go into a palm comfortably, but look at the character!
On the marked square I've noticed an interesting small building.
Initially I thought it was some kind of non-functioning fountain or a well. Turned out it was just a shed used to host some shopping slots. It even has it's own name - Kaak, and it's not old at all. It's a modern structure from 1987 built using medieval materials left after previous structures of the market.
The next stop in my journey was the Church of the Saint Peter. This is the only church that has it's tower open to visitors. The church was built around 1250, and seems like initially it was planned to have two towers, as the Cathedral and the Marienkirche do. It was important due to sort of informal competition between the churches, however, probably due to lack of funding, only one tower was eventually built.
During the air raid the building was badly damaged and just like the St. Mary's Church, lost all it's interior, as well as the spire. However, it seems like the naives survived and did not collapse.
The building stayed for quite a while in disrepair, and by then lost its entire congregation. It was used as a warehouse, and there were discussions about what to do with it, however it was later decided to use it partially as a church, and partially as a culturan center and a venue that can host thematical events.
It was unimaginable to restore the interiors to the pre-war state, so the walls were simply white-washed and the whole thing kept really simple and airy.
The remnants of the original paintings were preserved where possible, and it fits very well into the modern concept.
The epitaphs of the church are being threated casually, for instance, one of them is now a floor of in-house cafeteria. Well, it's said the majority of them is non-traceable today anyway.
There is a small museum waking guests through the history of the church.
The St. Petri church is the only church that has the tower open to visitors.
And while the visitors doing a short cardio climbing up, they are being cheered up by the unique humour of the hosts.
At the very top a spectacular view of the city is waiting.
From there all key landmarks of Lübeck are plain as a day.
Before leaving this part of the city I took an iconic view of the river bank of Lübeck. The shot is taken from the middle of the Liebesbrücke.
The last church to visit that day was the St. Jakobi. The history of the building is a bit less dramatic, because it survived the bombing untouched. It was founded around 1300 as a church of sailors, and initially planned to have ... two towers, again. There is evidence of that in the way the bottom part of the building is constructed.
The spire of the church turned to be problematic: in 1375 a quarter of it was blown by the hurricane, and then it was partially dismantled and re-built. Then, in year 1901 it was struck by lighting and burned for a while.
Eventually the spire received its notable feature - for balls on the corners, somehow mimicking turrets of the St. Petri's tower.
Thanks to surviving the second world war, there is a lot of original interiors left. The church hosts one of two original pre-war organs of Lübeck.
There is also intricated painting on the wooden ceilings.
Another distinct feature is the carved wooden parts of the choir stalls of a shape of funny faces and animals.
But I haven't come there to see the medieval woodwork, I was looking for a boat and chapel dedicated to sank sailors, as I was advised by the museum worker in the Holstentor.
The rescue boat belonged to the vessel Pamir - a four-masted barque that sank during a terrible hurricane in 1957. The ship listed dangerously due to sails not reduced in time, as well as hatchways left open. Then the unsecured cargo shifted, causing the ship to capsize and sink. Of the 86 people aboard only 6 survived.
It is said, that the accident has put an end to usage of sailing ships for commercial freight.
The boat looks severely damaged, showing ruptures and holes below the waterline, and the stern completely broken off. I can only wonder how the boat managed to stay afloat.
Initially I had no plans to visit the Heiligen-Geist-Hospital, but it happened to be just by the St. Jakobi. However, as I entered the building I immediately realized that I should have stopped by.
The hospital was founded in year 1286, and is said to be one of the oldest social institutions in the world.
Inside, there was a foyer with beautiflly decorated vaults and quite well preserved wall paintings.
A highly detailed model of the hospital is available for the visitors.
The main hall, where the beds used to be, is used as a museum and a place to host different events. Parts of the hospital, such as the nursing and retirement homes, are still in use as of today.
It was time to hit the road, as my train was leaving in half an hour. I only briefly visited the Hansamuseum. The complex is an interesting mix of historical and modern architecture, allowing to have a view of the old Lübeck's port.
On my way back to the train station I saw good examples of new building mimicking the historical. Some of them fit quite well.
Lübeck didn't disappoint me. It's a city full of history, tragedy and life, totally worth visiting.
In such limited time I couldn't uncover it all, I still need to see the Burgtor, Hansamuseum, Cathedral. Hope to come back soon.
