The Hidden Home of the Teutonic Tan

In a tearoom we ate raspberry chocolate torte and looked out the open window: On a broad terrace along the sun-stroked lake, waiters served lunch, surrounded by palms, hibiscus and bougainvillea.

This scene is not what I expected when I chose Germany. After several earlier trips, I thought I knew something about the country. But this corner of southernmost Germany is different, unknown to many American travelers. Here it is warm enough to grow lemons and tropical flowers.

The Germans liken this area to the Mediterranean, and it is among their favorite vacation spots. They call the water the Bodensee. In English it is known as Lake Constance or Konstanz. The 46-mile-long lake is a giant indentation gouged by a glacier during the Ice Age and filled by the flow of the Rhine.

During the hot summer, the water absorbs the heat, then releases it slowly as temperatures cool. From nearly any German land along the 125-mile shoreline, you can see the snowcapped Alps of Switzerland and Austria.

The beauty of the place is further enhanced by architecture that in some cases dates back to the Romans and that was spared during World War II because of the Allies' reluctance to risk an errant bombing of nearby Switzerland.

Our trip began in Frankfurt, which I had visited before, so the next day, we left for the Bodensee. Walking around this ancient town, my husband, Bruce Alpert, our 8-year-old daughter, Madeline, and I caught a glimpse of bike paths leading out of town. We were hooked.

The bike rental store at the train station did not rent helmets. We hesitated to buy them, but I'm glad we did. The day was a highlight of all our family vacations.

The combination of lake and mountains, vineyards, trees and flowers was unsurpassed in our biking history, heightened by the sense of wonder when we turned a corner and unexpectedly found old mansions and beautiful homes and guest houses.

We had allowed three days to explore six towns along the lake, biking, swimming, strolling and, except for the first night, finding places to stay as we went. As we biked, I wished we had scheduled a few more days. But perhaps my wish was unrealistic. About four miles out and still at least a mile or so from Wasserburg, Madeline ran out of steam.