Freizeitpark Märchenwald im Isartal

Our hotel

It was such a struggle to get out of bed this morning.  Our bedroom is about twenty meters from the bell tower of the Wolfrathausen church. Judging from the heavily crucifixes lobby and the kindly ladies standing out in front of teh church, passing out literature, this is a devout city, as towns in the region generally are.  Unfortunately, this means that they ring their church bells proudly, on every quarter hour around the clock. During the extended 6:00 AM call to Vigils, I'm afraid all I could do was all I could pray for was more sleep.

But when we finally roused ourselves (with the help of our indefatigable children) there was a lovely little breakfast waiting for us, spread out for us by a gentle old Hausfrau.  She hovered over Ella, at one point, helping her to select some croissants; when we asked Ella if she'd remembered to thank the lady, Ella looked ashamed and scooted back, giving an earnest "Danke vielmal," which of course made the nice lady beam.


We let the kids have a little quiet time in the hotel room before heading out. The boys were having fun with their Legos, and Ella and I settled down to play some cards.  Today's attraction was only a mile away: we were in no great hurry, and after so many days of racing around, it felt luxurious to dally.

Ella and Alex and I also took a moment to peek up and down our street, and to run into the Gummy Bear store across the street.  They sold Jelly Belly's, Ella's favorite and mine, which are kind of hard to find in Switzerland, so she stocked up.

Despite the appearances of my hot-running children, it was ridiculously cold today, and it didn't really warm up until late afternoon.  But even though the weather was contrary, we had our fun anyway, and plenty of it.

Today's treat is a little tiny amusement park called Frezeitpark Märchenwald.  It's completely quaint, and feels as though it belongs to a somewhat simpler time, a couple of decades ago.

A main feature are about a dozen little animated scenes, with accompanying fairy stories, told in German and English, both. The kids loved the treat of hearing an English tale, and we listened to every single one.  The stories were true to the Brother's Grimm tellings of fairy tales: Cinderella must sift lentils out of the ashes before she can go to the ball, and does so with the help of some friendly birds, for example.

The story of the three brothers, and the donkey that poops golden coins.
Predictably, the kids liked this one.

And, true to the Brother's Grimm, the stories were, as Lily Tomlin best put it, "Gruesome and horrible...but kind of cute." (Twenty points to anyone who can name the movie reference, a childhood favorite of my sister's and mine.)

The scenes were jerkily animated and faded, cobbled together with rummage-sale castoffs, which, I insist, only added to their charm.

Really, that describes the park as a whole: it seemed to be pulled together with a small budget and a whole lot of love and imagination.  Considering the low gate price, I couldn't imagine how they managed to turn a profit, until we discovered that most of the rides were self operated.  Not just the obvious rides, like the tiny merry-go-round that Joey rode a half-dozen times.

Even the larger rides, such as the unlikely Boar Ride through the woods, were self-loading and self-starting.  Only once did I see a kids stumble, an older kid, who was racing to catch up to her friends after riding a little automobile ride.  She was completely fine, and completely unlitigious.

The start button for the little lady
bug ride to the right

Alex pulls a cord to send his wild pig galloping
into the woods

Towels, posted around the park,
so that parents could dry morning
dew off the rides

The little cars, too, were self loading.  This was, by far, Joey's favorite ride.

There were a few rides that absolutely required operators: there was a roller coaster shaped like a flying  squirrel that raced through the park.  The entire amusement park was set in a dense woods, which was lovely in itself, but the effect of having that coaster race over head through the branches was just lovely.
Interestingly, the park is immediately adjacent to suburban housing. Out of respect for their neighbors, there was a sign posted at the entrance to the roller coaster: No screaming, please.

But the parts that the kids loved best were the most low-tech of all.  There was a giant slide tower, and several playgrounds.  One of these had a ropes course that featured a lot of the challenges that we saw in the Legoland course...but this one was only a foot off the ground.  That same playground, oddly, had a few different pieces of exercise equipment spread throughout.

Rowing. In the woods.

The awesome slide tower, with mats for speed

Another playground was an above-ground habit rail made out of wire mesh.  It was themed to be a wizard-training school, and there were stations throughout that gave you tips for spells.  I thought it was seriously cool.

Ella, in front of the "Zauberdorf" (Magic Village) habitrail

But the kids' favorite was a building filled with labyrinths, some of which were completely dark, and some of which featured some teetery bridges and climbing walls and other complications.  The kids love a challenge, and they had an absolute blast.  With the possible exception of Joey, who spent most of his time in the maze calling out "Wait for me, guys! Guys? Wait for me!"

Ella brings order to chaos in the
labyrinth ballroom

The birth of deliciousness

The best part of that maze, in my opinion, was that it was right next door to a little coffee stand where they gave you your drinks in hand-warming ceramic mugs (available for purchase for $1.50: we took two) and fresh-made donuts, as well.  I thought it showed well-placed priorities: the rides were unstaffed, but they paid a teenager to stand there all day, nursing little fresh-fried donuts into existence.  We ate four dozen among us.

This was a neat touch: a little closet, off to
side of the ball pit, with a a cozy chair,
labeled "Stillzimmer," or quiet room.  A
place for kids to calm down, surely, but
Dennis was looking longingly at it as well.

Another favorite of Joey's was Hubers' Hof (Huber's farm), a building housing many, many animatronic animals that you could command to sing with the press of a button, making them join the others in a raucous chorus of the German version of "Old McDonald."  Joey stationed himself in front of the pigs, gazing at them lovingly, and refused to budge...until Dennis asked him if he'd like some pork schnitzel or hot dogs. He adores pigs in all their forms.
















After lunch, we planned to swing up to the top of the park map, to a spot that was marked, tantalizingly, the Waldschänke (the Forest Bar).  Considering how this place focused on wondrous things like coffee and fresh donuts, we assumed that there was a little beer stand tucked away in the woods, too, and were looking forward to stopping by.  But it wasn't quite what we expected...

I was surprised there are several more sister parks similar to this, spread throughout Bavaria.  Although, of all of them, I think this park, with it's fairytale theme and small-child rides, was the best for our family. Ella rhapsodized all day about what a magical place this park was; I, too, can't tell you how happy it makes me that a park like this exists.