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.

Theo in Rothenburg-Another Disneyland?

I first visited Rothenburg years ago, and I remember one thing in particular--the famous Christmas store. Yeah, I know, I should have remembered that Rothenburg is a magical city with a strange backstory. But when you travel with someone who could play/watch tennis 24 hours a day (Dan) and a gangster cat (Theo) who has the attention span of a flea, the Christmas store is what you talk about.

Kathe Wolfhart is famous all over the world. The store is several floors and has room after room of everything you could ever want to decorate your house or your tree. Located on a street that also has a giant bear at a store entrance nearby, you enter and are immediately greeted by a moveable display of a fairytale village. 

We stand there too long--watching. Theo is enthralled. At first he's content to be held in Dan's arm and watch the magical figures. Then he gets another idea. He meows and begins to wiggle free.  We've seen that behavior before. He wants to jump into the display.

"Forget about it," we tell him. "There's no room for you in there."

Even so, we are now in the mood to tour Rothenburg. Imagine stepping into a place that offers beautiful scenic views, half-timbered houses, and a quaintness beyond compare.  

The Christmas store is near the main market where, it seems, everyone gathers. I now understand why Rothenburg is considered the German version of Disneyland for adults, minus the rides. Partially destroyed by Allied bombing during World War II, the town rebuilt itself with money from the Marshall Plan. During that renovation the town was made even more fairytale like. In fact, Germans visit Rothenburg and consider it a wonderful tourist attraction. 

Here is just a sampling of the countryside that surrounds the Christmas store:

Can you imagine living here? I'm enthralled with the greenery, the old fashioned houses, fences, stone walls and passageways. You are in another world. Dan is happy and Theo is, well, hungry, but what's new about that?