Hunting for witches in Germany’s Harz mountains

Sign up for a wander through the spruce forests surrounding Clausthal-Zellerfeld, in North Germany’s Harz mountains, and you’ll do so to a soundtrack of mournful, constant creaking – a reminder that it’s an area shaped by mining. 

Between the 1200s and the late 1900s, the region was one of Europe’s biggest producers of silver, iron and lead. Thick forests of spruce were planted centuries ago by miners who appreciated the trees’ acoustic qualities – when spruce bends, it creaks loudly, creating a built-in early detection system for the workers who used it to shore up their mines. 

The forests aren’t the only reminder. 

In the centre of Clausthal-Zellerfeld, a pretty town built around Germany’s largest wooden church, brightly-coloured, spruce-panelled houses (many of which seem to have saunas) scream Scandi-chic. On the outskirts, a network of walking trails hugs the banks of narrow, man-made canals, which once carried water pumped from mines. They’re part of the Unesco-listed Upper Harz mining water management system, an intricate tangle of channels which dates back to the Middle Ages and was built by the Cistercian monks who owned the region’s first mines. 

Cheery spruce tree-shaped signs tell me when I’m passing sites of historical significance, many of which remind me of California ghost towns: there are ancient water wheels and crumbling log cabins and, in a forest clearing, an enormous metal bowl once used to smelt silver, repurposed as a fountain.  

I crank up the fear factor by tackling the Witches Trail – a hiking route that weaves through the nearby Harz National Park, a beautifully eerie landscape famous for its gnarled trees, misty swamps and flitting bats. 

Before long, I’m craving a pretzel – not because I’m hungry, but possibly lost, and a trail of pretzel crumbs would be a fitting way to ensure my escape from a landscape that inspired Johann Wolfgang von Goethe to write his famous poems and fairy tales.

Reassurance comes in the form of a sign depicting a broomstick-riding witch – the symbol of this twisting hiking route that snakes from the former mining town of Torfhaus to the summit of the Brocken, north Germany’s tallest mountain. 

According to folklore, this is where witches gathered to meet with the devil and plan future mischief-making. Luckily, their plans were usually thwarted by Saint Walburga, an eighth-century, witch-repelling nun honoured on Walpurgis Night, a Pagan festival which kicks off on 30 April. 

It’s not the only tribute to the area’s witch-related past – the trail begins near a cluster of squat cottages, several of which have colourful murals depicting witches flying across their slate roofs.  

Before long, I’m deep in the woods, trying to figure out if unusually-shaped splodges in the mud are footprints of lynxes (reintroduced following a successful repopulation programme) or deer – one of which gives me the fright of my life when it bounces out of the mist. 

Before setting off on my hike, I had met Dr Friedhart Knolle, a local geologist and wildlife expert. Knolle explained that the Harz mountains straddle the dividing line which once separated east and west Germany. The presence of this heavily-fortified border prompted animals to steer clear, but they’re gradually returning, and he predicts wolves will soon roam the park once more.  

But it’s not just witches’ raves and wildlife that put the Harz National Park on the map. My destination is the Brocken’s 1,141-metre summit, where a cluster of buildings once housed listening posts manned by the Stasi (the German Democratic Republic's state security service) and the Soviet army between 1961 until 1989. During this time, the mountain was heavily-fortified and off-limits to the public, but the original buildings now house a hotel and museum. 

In the latter, I ascend a tight spiral staircase leading to the radar dome, complete with the enormous, original satellite dish that allowed the Germans to eavesdrop on radio communications in far-flung corners of Europe. It’s also home to a more light-hearted insight into the area – a virtual broomstick I can ride over the Harz mountains to learn about the region’s dramatic, seasonal transformations.  

I descend the Brocken in style, taking one of the Harry Potter-worthy steam engines which trundle along the Harzer Schmalspurbahnen, Germany’s largest network of narrow gauge railways and a classified historical monument. There’s something wonderfully cosy about chugging down the mountain, watching clouds of steam and smoke catch in the thick clusters of spruce trees. 

I eventually rumble into the town of Wernigerode, the setting for one of the region’s biggest Walpurgis Night celebrations, when knitted demons dangle from lampposts and rooftops, and witches (or at least locals dressed as them) storm the town hall and party in the Marktplatz.  

The town’s network of cycling trails, marked by witch-themed signs, suggests bikes have replaced broomsticks as the vehicles of choice, but almost every shop sells something witch-related, whether it’s broomstick-shaped bottles of vodka or packets of pumpkin-orange hexentrunk (witch’s drink) cocktail mix. In the Steinecke bakery, there’s a hand-painted mural depicting a witch flying over the Harz mountains on a baguette, and another showing a witch flying through a cloud of bread rolls. 

It dawns on me that I’ve reached peak witch – even though I’m already planning a return in time for next spring’s Walpurgis Night, when locals will light bonfires to scare away malevolent forces. But this time, I’m packing plenty of pretzels.

Flight from London Heathrow to Hannover with British Airways start from £40, one way.

Double rooms at Wernigerode’s Travel Charme Hotel Gothisches Haus start from £100. travelcharme.com

Visit germany.travel and harzinfo.de for more information