Koblentz, Schnitzel and Theo

 The question of the day is what to do once we arrive in Koblentz, Germany's oldest city. During World War II 87% of the city was bombed and destroyed. Today it's an interesting mixture of the old and the new. A building dating back one thousand years will stand near a new building circa 1970. 

"Where are we going again?" Theo meows.

"Koblentz." Because there are things we want to see--the old market square, for example. A wonderful exhibit from the Berlin wall (I know this does not sound exciting) that commemorate the end of fascism. One of the oldest churches in Germany . . .

For Theo, it's all about the schnitzel. He wants to eat the schnitzel. Can cats eat schnitzel? What is it, anyway?

Koblentz is where two rivers meet--the Rhine and the Moselle. It was originally established as a Roman military post by Drusus in 8 BC. The old section of Koblentz is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Theo understands none of this. He has one mission only--the schnitzel.

"Okay. Okay. But first we need to see the town."

In Jesuitenplatz we spot a statue of a man in reflective thought on a building. You don't see that in the U.S.!

We find the famous status of the spitting boy, and sure enough, he is spitting water out of his mouth:

We see these marvelous old buildings with murals:

There is so much to see.

Then we head off to see the walls. Theo meows, "Are we there yet? Where's the schnitzel?"

Dan steps up to the plate. "I'll handle this." He is chock full of facts. 

"Look here. Do you see these walls?"

I'm posing in front. Then Dan poses in front. Theo sulks on the sidelines.

Dan summarizes: In 1990 western Germany was reunified with eastern Germany when the Berlin Wall was knocked down. These walls segments commemorate all those who were arrested, tortured, killed, and persecuted in the forty years of communist rule. We're talking about 200,000 political prisoners, 150,000 children in special institutions, children forced into adoption, thousands who were displaced and scores of others who bravely opposed the wall that separated the east from the west. 

Theo is barely listening, or is he? As soon as Dan finishes, he adds in a whisper, "We're getting closer to the Schnitzel."

We're off. 

"We're on our way," I assure him but first we have to see a really old church--The Basilica of Saint Castor. Built in 836 A.D. It's famous not only because it is old, but also throughout the centuries it hosted signings of treaties, etc. Of historical importance.

I like to walk inside old churches. My imagination runs wild. I think about people centuries ago coming and going. Kneeling to pray. How the world looked then one thousand years ago. This particular church is simple and beautiful inside:

I hear a strange noise. Dan is holding Theo, and his stomach is growling. "Theo, stop that. You're in a holy place of worship."

Theo meows. "I have to do it, see?"

More gangster talk. It's surprising he's not struck down by a bolt of religious lightning.

Dan takes control. "Schnitzel time."

Schnitzel in Germany is tantamount to pizza in Italy. It is meat fried in spices with some kind of delicious coating. 

We order three schnitzels so Theo can have one all to himself. No, he's not jumping up onto the table. I cut up the schnitzel and then place this delicious platter on the floor near our feet. 

Can that cat eat!

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. 

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 In Bamberg: Is it fish or a Magical Story?

 Who can resist going to Bamberg, Germany? Located on the Regnitz River, it was the center of the German Enlightenment Period and home to Hegel, a great German philosopher. It is known for colorful timbered houses that date from the 11th to other 19th century, medieval streets that give you a good idea of the layout of a town back then, and a magnificent Cathedral. As we walk around, I try to capture in photos the uniqueness of the houses, the cathedral, the square in front of the cathedral where Germans today hold their annual Christmas market, the famous Rose Garden:

On top of one of the bridges, I capture a panoramic view of the town:

I drag Theo and Dan inside the cathedral. I'm always impressed with the Gothic architecture--the sheer immenseness of size, the statues, the paintings, especially when you contrast it with the poverty that existed for most people who lived in medieval times.

Theo has been remarkably behaved during this entire period. It's almost as if he's in a kind of trance, sniffing the grounds (really loving the rose garden) but tolerating everything else.

Even when I suggest we stop in the museum near the cathedral. I want to point out two more things--an imperial crown and a pair of shoes. Again the contrast.

When you travel with a gangster cat, you have to keep things moving. He can only take so many cathedrals and museums before his little head threatens to explode. 

We leave the museum, and Dan mentions how remarkable it is that the city was spared the worst of the bombing and possible destruction during World War II. I know what's coming.

"Theo, pay close attention to this story."

He gazes up at me. I can see from the look in his eye that he is now thinking of only one thing--lunch. He's hungry. One thing about cats--they have this uncanny internal time clock inside which dictates when they have to eat or else . . .

"Mom, I'm hungry now."

"You can wait five minutes."

He shakes is head with a vehemence I seldom see.

It's time for compromise. Dan agrees to tell the story en route to the restaurant where we promise to order fish.

"Bamberg was supposed to be bombed, but a sudden fog descended on the city, and the bombers were forced to drop their bombs on Wurzburg. Where did the fog come from? Was it the whim of Mother Nature? The locals believe that Queen Kunigunden saved them. She was born in 975, was the empress consort of Holy Roman Emperor Henry II, and for years they ruled the city together. Later she became the revered saint of Bamberg. On that fateful night, the local believe, she spread her cloak over the city and saved it. She is buried in the cathedral."

We arrive at the restaurant, are seated but it isn't until Theo is munching on his trout meunière that he finally concedes it's a great story. 

"How's the trout?" Dan asks.

We look down and Theo has eaten every morsel, but like a true German, he loves a good story almost as much as he loves his fish.