I really wanted to get to the Château du Haut-Kœnigsbourg. Our host in Strasbourg — Élodie, kind and endlessly knowledgeable — had told us it was one of the most interesting places in the region. Maybe it isn’t a truly medieval castle but a restored one — still, for me a castle is always a story in itself. I grew up reading French literature, and a castle feels like something special to me. I checked the website: 3 and 4 January were the last days it was open.
So we took a local train to Sélestat in Alsace. It’s about 20 minutes from Strasbourg, although some trains take 45 — it depends on the route. Trains run quite often. The price can be different, but on the day of travel all tickets were the same — about €11 one way. Sélestat, Alsace sits between Strasbourg and Colmar, on the flat Alsatian plain, with the Vosges rising behind it.
Waiting for a bus that never came
The station in Sélestat is small. You step out and immediately find yourself on a little square. There was just one bus there, with no signs or route numbers. Of course we walked straight towards it — surely this must be the one taking us to the castle.
It wasn’t.
The driver told us this was a different stop. “Your bus is about twenty metres from here,” he said. So we moved there — and started waiting again.
Then another bus arrived. It had about sixteen seats. We rushed towards it, relieved and hopeful — and that was when the driver said the castle shuttles were cancelled.
An Italian group started swearing and went back to the station. They had lost both time and money. We even tried to find a taxi, but on a quiet Sunday morning it felt as if the whole town — drivers included — was still asleep. I was disappointed and tired of waiting, so I went off to walk around Sélestat instead.
The town doesn’t wake up early. And maybe neither did I — I was still somewhere between disappointment and curiosity.
A quieter edge of the old town
After leaving the station area, I didn’t go through the old gate into the historic centre. If I had, I would have found myself among neat houses, restaurants and little shops — even if they were still closed for the morning. Instead, I entered the old town from its quieter edge, where the polished centre gives way to something more ordinary and real.
Here the houses leaned close to each other, some of them still showing their medieval bones beneath later layers. Timber frames were darkened by wood-burning stoves and age rather than fresh paint. Buildings from the 14th and 15th centuries, changed many times but still alive, lined narrow streets that felt simple and real, not restored for display.
The town was almost empty. It felt as if everyone was still in their kitchen, drinking coffee — with or without milk, who knows. The quiet had something cinematic about it: you could imagine small scenes of everyday life unfolding behind the walls, or just stand there and look.
A few minutes later I did reach the more central streets where visitors usually go. But I was glad the route had turned out the way it did — first through the unpolished side of Sélestat, then into its more familiar heart.
What stayed with me
People often see Sélestat, Alsace simply as the gateway to the castle. But on that slow Sunday morning, without a shuttle to catch, it became something else: a place you end up in when your plan breaks — and sometimes that’s when a trip really starts.
