Franconia is not far away –only two hours east of Frankfurt by car– and planning a visit there neither seems as exotic as Japan nor as far off the beaten path as the Faroe Islands do. But Franconia has a lot to offer.

But there is also something else about it: It is my birthplace. I was born in a small village called Hambach in Lower Franconia.

This song’s introductory line sums it up:

Im schönen Frankenland wo meine Wiege stand. (In beautiful Franconia where my cradle stood)

They sing this at every Weinfest, Bierfest, Pfarrfest, Feuerwehrfest, Kindergartenfest, Hoffest, Junggesellenfest, etc. They are a festive folk.

I left Franconia close to thirty years ago and on my occasional trips back, I realize how different they are from the rest of the Germans. When in casual conversation, there always seems to be a demanding undertone in their speech. When a happy Franconian speaks, his intonation might resemble a melody. The Franconians, being part of Northern Bavaria, are often referred to as the Beute-Bayern (the Bavarian predators made the Franconians their prey).

This area is full of traditions worth telling about.