Inside Heidelberg Castle - Ancient Apothecaries and a Mummy

 I'll be honest. We lure Theo to stay longer in Heidelberg because we make a sudden decision to visit inside the castle. Yes, as soon as Theo hears the word "castle," he's interested. For a while.

"Do you want to go inside and see . . ."

Theo immediately nods. "I want to go."

"Well, this may not be what you're expecting . . ." 

"I have to go, see?" 

Just like a gangster. 

So, in my defense, Theo never gives us a chance to explain that we want to go (Dan and I) in the basement where there are ten rooms of an exhibit that has little to do with castles. Nevertheless, Theo agrees and off we go. 

The German Apothecary Museum (think ancient pharmacies and medicine ranging from antiquity to the present) is our goal. It is a magnificent exhibit.

We see painted cabinets of a former apothecary in a monastery.

We see Baroque style apothecaries.

We see all sorts of apothecary containers (where they kept the medicine) in glass and colorfully painted majolica.

We see a lab and all its equipment. 

We saunter past what the museum tells us is 1,000 medicinal products from an older time.

We learn how nature played a huge role during the Middle Ages in healing people. Plants, of course.  We even see the original medicine for migraines.

We're fascinated. Theo is less so. So we have to lure him along, finally suggesting/promising that we might be able to glimpse a pulverized mummy, that was believed to heal coughs, sore throats, broken hearts, shivers and headaches. 

Theo buys in.

No, we never do see the mummy, but just the thought that we might-- what people used to believe would help them feel better can scare the bejabbers out of you. 

What? Another Castle in Heidelberg?

Theo's obsession with castles is growing. Dan and I try to deny it, but it seems he doesn't want to go anywhere if there isn't a castle!

Luckily we are headed to Heidelberg. Located on the Neckar River, the city boasts 160,000 residents, a quarter of whom are students who attend Heidelberg University, Germany's oldest university, circa 1386.

So many students centered in one place gives the town a kind of energy. Young people are everywhere. And most, I assume, are interested in Heidelberg's rich historic past. A Celtic fortress was built in the town in the 5th century BC. The Romans (of course) built a wooden bridge and lived there from 40 AD to 260 AD. In 1907, one of the earliest human artifacts--a jawbone--was discovered in Heidelberg. 

Dan and I make sure Theo is aware of all these facts, but truthfully, he wants to see the castle. We warn him ahead of time--so many wars over the centuries have taken its toll on Heidelberg Castle. It is now in ruins. No one lives there anymore. It's a relic of the past.

But, it's still magnificent. Even I have to admit that. We get our first, second, and then third glimpse of this magnificent structure. 

Theo bounds along as if drawn by a Greek siren. We can't hear the call, but he seems determined to get up close and personal to the castle. He wants to sniff, of course. He wants to jump up and walk along the wall. We know his routine by now. 

"Theo, look down."

He glances at me as if I'm crazy.

"You're missing the best part. Look down. The view."

Finally, he sees where I'm pointing. 

He stares for a moment. Can he even see the view? How good is his eyesight anyway?

I realize that when we travel along--and see these castles--what I value is not often what Theo values. He has special gifts--that unique ability to sniff and pick up clues about the past. 

I can only see what's here now. He can see what came before. You've got to love cats!

Theo is Obsessed with Castles in Wertheim

 As we travel around Germany, we get used to visiting towns half new and half old. During World War II, many German towns were bombed and nearly destroyed by the Allies, which meant the Germans needed to rebuild. We get used to leaving modern Germany and moving through a kind of time tunnel back to an earlier time, the way things used to be. We get tiny glimpses of life before the bombing.

Wertheim is not like that, and that's what makes Theo insistent that we stop and visit. It is a small, cozy German town that was never bombed by the Allies during World War II. Dan tells Theo the remarkable story--towards the end of the war, the Americans were stationed outside the city with their guns. They threatened to bomb the town if the people didn't surrender. The Germans had orders never to surrender.

But that day the head German was not in town and one brave soldier decided enough was enough. The war was practically over. He raised the white surrender flag and saved the town.

Theo hears that story and insists we pay the town a visit. Not to see the town itself, but to see the castle. 

"Sure," we agree. "We can see the castle."

But I have other things on my agenda. I'm always fascinated by places where you can glimpse the past. See the way people used to live. See their houses. The streets. And inevitable see the quirky things that make the town so special.

The streets are cobblestone. The houses are the original half-timbered architecture. There is a central plaza where everyone sits outside to enjoy a coffee, a danish or a pretzel. 

We save the castle for last for obvious reasons. As soon as we see it, Theo will insist on going back to the hotel. To relax. To snack. I know this kid by now. We're smarter than the average cat. 

Or so we think!

As we traverse the town, every other meow out of Theo's mouth is he wants to see the castle. Well, the ruins of a castle. You can step back into medieval times and forget that you are in modern times. For Theo, I think it's because he saw something on castles on the History Channel. Besides watching shows about birds and squirrels, quirky historical events are what Theo loves best. 

No cat could do more sniffing. He wanders freely on the grass, sniffs every rock and boulder he can find, jumps up on the stone gate. He's basically having a grand old time. I wonder what piece of history he's tapping into as he sniffs. Knights in shining armor? Damsels in distress? King and queens?

Well, I want to know and ask Theo directly.  "What did you think?

Did you like Wertheim? Aren't you glad you came?"

"I liked the castle."

"That's it?"

Wertheim is an incredibly beautiful place. From the height of the castle, we look down to the valley below. 

Priceless. (At least I think so.)

 

Theo Visits a Medieval Torture Museum

 

Theo is fond of using the word torture. When he wants his snack, and we're not ready to give it, he meows, "It's torture, mom." When Mico steals his favorite spot on the couch, again Theo responds by calling it torture. Somedays he seems to feel his life is, indeed, torturous. If he only knew what real torture is. I get an idea.

Fast forward. We're traveling around Germany and stop in a little town called Rothenburg, known for its medieval charm. After wandering around, we end up in the purrfect place.

Officially the museum is called the Medieval Crime Museum, but it's really all about torture. In the historical legal sense, torture began as part of the criminal system in Europe in the 14th century. When someone was accused of a crime--witchcraft, for example, where there was no proof, a confession brought on by torture was enough.

Public shaming was another kind of torture--chains with scissors attached was hung around the neck of unscrupulous sellers who sold inferior products, masks with chicken feathers were attached to the faces of promiscuous people, etc. Women who gossiped about each other were confined to the public square, one woman's wrists inserted in one side of a cruel wooden device, the other woman's wrists inserted into the other side. Others could see what they've done.

Once through the doors, you're faced with someone who appears to have been tortured--a sad and despairing face. 

Then you're introduced to various forms of torture: the stretching ladder, the rack (both which stretch joins and dislocate bones), the spiked chair, various instruments to put pressure on thumbs, etc to cause pain. There was also the shame mask with iron spikes that gouged the face, worn by men who led a wild life.  The museum houses over 50,000 objects of torture.

The museum offers a slew of torture devices and engravings in books that documents how torture was done. 

Theo is amazingly quiet during our entire tour of the museum. He looks intently through the glass as Dan and I point out various forms of torture instruments and explain how confessions were gotten from people accused of a crime when there was no evidence. 

"Well," I finally say to him, "I brought you here for a reason."

His big little eyes widen even further.

"You want to . . . " Is he thinking we're going to torture him?

"No, Theo, of course not. I want you to understand what real torture is. What you call torture is, well, that's just mom and dad being good parents. You can't get what you want all the time."

He shrugs his shoulders.

"Do you understand?"

"I get it," he meows. "I see."

"So, find another word."

He pauses for a second. "Can I say torture and do this?" He puts his delicately outlined paws into the air and makes air quotes as he meows torture.

Once a gangster cat, always a gangster cat.

Home for the Holidays

 We are so used to traveling that it seems a bit strange to be home. The holidays are almost upon us and that means, of course, decorating the house. We put up the Christmas tree, the large Santa near the fireplace, the manger on the mantel, a few angels dressed gloriously for good measure, a wreath on the door and a basket of Christmas everything's on the front porch. Of course, we have candles in the windows on a timer so as the sun goes down, the candles come on.

Theo watches but is usually unimpressed. He likes one thing and one thing only. The Christmas tree. It used to be a real one, back in the day--and I have fond and not so fond memories of traipsing through someone's tree farm--it was usually cold and rainy--to find the perfect tree, cutting it down with an axe, dragging it home tied down on top of the roof of the car, remeasuring to make sure it would fit in the space, sawing off the excess and then finally dragging it into the house. Of course, needles would fly everywhere as you hem and haw the tree through the always too narrow door openings.

The pine smell was delicious. The labor of putting it into a tree stand and then keeping it filled with water (while every cat I've ever owned insisted that the tree's water was their water and so much better tasting than fountain water) which seemed to disappear by the hour.

Those days are in the distant past. Nowadays we have an artificial specially designed tree that looks great in a corner of our living room. The twinkling lights are pre-attached. The tree comes in three pieces and during the so much less arduous task of dragging the tree from the garage and into the house, unpacking it, assembling the three pieces and then plugging it into electricity, Theo watches, waiting. He has one objective only. To sit under the tree.

He is not one for climbing the tree, knocking the ornaments off, or attacking the angel (that's Mico's thing). All he wants to do is sit under it, on top of the Christmas blanket. 

Sure, sometimes he's joined by Sienna and Mico (they like to hide under the Christmas blanket), but usually he likes to be alone under there, falling fast asleep in the corner. 

Literally ten minutes after we have the tree up, he's there. 

"What do you want for Christmas, Theo?"

"Besides world peace and food for all the children of the world," he asks.

"Yes, besides that."

He tilts his cat face and takes a moment to consider. It is a big question. After all, he believes in Santa, the elves, the North Pole, all the reindeer and the giant sled that will bring him what he wants. I can almost read his mind and see him thinking about and then rejecting a whole host of things--more toys, an electric blanket, more catnip on his favorite toy--a round plastic thing with a ball that goes around (that he can swipe with his paw) and cardboard filler in the middle that he can scratch. 

"Fish snacks," he finally says. 

"Fish snacks?"

"That's what I want."

Okay. 

Here are some random pics of the kids around the house:

We'll be home for the holidays and taking a short vacation (a few weeks) from blogging to decompress and relax. 

We wish everyone a Happy Holiday and peaceful New Year. We hope you can spend time with the ones you love. 

We are grateful for your patronage and hope to continue with our blog for the coming year--Hot Blogging with Chuck--remembering and honoring Chuck, the rascal cat, who passed away a few years ago.