Einhard's Basilica

We made it back to the car after leaving Michelstadt's medieval center and I sighed deeply. The town was lovely, but extensive scaffolding ruined the main square and my hopes of lovely photos of the Rathaus. And again, being the middle of winter, the whole atmosphere walking around the town was extremely subdued. I opened the guide book I had brought with me to see if there was anything else we should see before we left for home and it mentioned that just a few minutes away was a basilica and a small castle. "Why not?" I said to myself.

Making that little detour made our day trip worthwhile.

This photo I found on-line shows the structure of Einhard's Basilica better than any of mine. The church had been used as a hospital and then in the 17th century as a barn, until 1873 when someone realized this old church being used to store hay and house animals, was actually Carolingian. It wasn't just a few hundred years old, it was a thousand years old, having been built in 824-827.

Einhard, a Frankish scholar who was a dedicated servant and biographer of Charlemagne, had the basilica built in the early 800s.

Anaëlle looking to see if we can explore the chambers underneath the church

In the passageways underneath the church after having jumped down to the muddy entrance to the basement.

After the completion of the basilica, Einhard sent a servant, Ratleic, to Rome to find holy relics for the new building. Once in Rome, Ratleic, with the help of a Roman deacon with a reputation as a relics-swindler, robbed a catacomb of the bones of Saints Marcellinus and Peter and brought them back to Michelstadt. Marcellinus, a priest, and Peter, an exorcist, died in the year 304, beheaded in Rome.

We were surprised to find this display in a random room amid dark passageways. Had I time and a German-English dictionary, I could no doubt tell you more about Einhard and his basilica.

One the relics were entombed in the church, Einhard's servants began experiencing nightmares and the relics “sweated blood,” making Einhard think that this arrangement was not a good one. He moved himself, his wife, the relics and his seat to to a different city, now known as Seligenstadt, which became a pilgrimage site with a new, bigger basilica. Once established there, the relics proved to be miracle workers.

Entering the church sanctuary

Inside the bare sanctuary.  The archways along the sides used to be doorways but were filled in during the 14th century.

Architectural detail

A last look back. I was very happy. Much as I enjoy touring ornate Gothic churches, I find it just as enjoyable exploring these extremely old, simple pre-Gothic churches.

Allotment Gardens

As we left the center of Michelstadt and made our way back to the car, we passed by this garden. Anaëlle asked me about these garden shacks you see all over the place outside Frankfurt. I thought people bought or rented plots of land to garden and these sheds (some are quite nice and some can be falling-down messes) were for storing tools. But Anaëlle though the sheds were too big and fancy to be just for storing tools.  Turns out she was right.

All throughout Germany outside of big cities, you will find these clusters of tiny little structures and at first glace, you may mistake them for some kind of little shanty town. A second glance reveals that, beyond the clutter of ladders and rakes leaning against the back of the structures, neatly ordered flowerbeds, well-tended fruit trees and picture-perfect picket fences are lined up like regiments of tin soldiers. The phenomenon is known as a Schrebergarten -- an area outside the city where gardening-obsessed Germans can rent out a small plot and plunge their fingers into the soil.

What looks like a slice of outdoor freedom though, is actually far from it. In 1983, the German government passed the Bundeskleingartengesetz ("Federal Small Garden Law"), which regulates just how big a small garden is allowed to be and includes nine further pages describing, in German legaleze, every other aspect of what the "Schreber-gardener" is faced with. In addition, each colony has a formal leadership structure and a book of rules that regulates everything from the exact dimensions, color and style of the shack to when one is allowed to mow the lawn or use other noisy gardening machinery. Unkempt gardens are also frowned upon.

The Schrebergarten phenomenon is not a new one. Dr. Daniel Gottlieb Moritz Schreber, a 19th century naturopath, wanted to create more athletic fields for the children in his home city of Leipzig. He died in 1861 before the plan could be realized, but his son-in-law got the ball rolling in 1864 and before long, small vegetable plots were planted in the fields as well to teach the children the basics of gardening. The idea quickly took off. But it was during World War I and World War II that the gardens rapidly rose in importance as sources of otherwise hard-to-get fresh fruit and vegetables. Furthermore, after World War II ended, a lack of housing across the country resulted in the common practice of erecting small structures on the plots so that families could find shelter.

The result today are thousands of garden colonies on the outskirts of big cities in Germany, Austria and Switzerland that look more like miniature housing developments than peaceful nature retreats. For the most part, the colonies are no longer residential, but in the summertime, they are packed with families enjoying the sunshine, crammed onto their tiny plots grilling, eating and relaxing.

With this information in hand, I decided to document the Schrebergarten that I see on a daily basis -- on my way drive to and from the kids' school.  With Micaela as my photo-journalist aid, we photographed and counted every cluster of gardens we saw.

On the 15-minute drive, we counted 13 Schrebergartens.  Many are nice, as the article I copied and pasted above described.  And some people like to add a bit of kitsch to their gardens, displaying windmills and gnomes.

 But many near the school looked delapidated and did resemble a shanty town.  When I explained to the kids that I would be blogging about these gardens, James said, "And all along I thought those were homes for poor people!"

Michelstadt

One little town I have wanted to visit for a while is Michelstadt.  I had read in a book that it was "a town of extraordinary beauty set in the enchanted forest of the Nordic god Odin."  David had already been to it for a business meeting, so it was the perfect town to visit with Anaëlle while everyone else was a work and school.

Michelstadt is located in Odenwald, a forest area that straddles several German states, including Hessen, Baden and Bavaria. It is unclear whether the name means Odin Forest (Odin being a Nordic god) or Forest of Odes. There was a Roman settlement here, but Michelstadt was first mentioned in writing in 741 AD.

I was looking forward to seeing the Rathaus (townhall), one of the most photographed sights in Germany.  We enjoyed the peaceful 1½ hour drive, parked the car, made our way to the Marktplatz, turned a corner and came upon....

....the Rathaus. Nein! Nein! Nein! I even threw in a Scheiße under my breath for good measure. One of the most photographed sights in Germany covered not just in scaffolding, but in bloody advertisements.  I knew through the power of the internet, we could see pictures of the Rathaus in all its glory, but what a disappointment.

The Rathaus was built in 1484 and the only alteration over the past 500 years has been the addition of a clock, moved from a different part of town.  The open ground floor accommodated the local court, while the townspeople and watchmen congregated outside.

The Rathaus is located in the Marktplatz which also features this 16th century fountain topped with a statue of of the town's patron saint, St. Michael. You see St. Michael all over the town, but Michelstadt was not named for him, as I had assumed. Rather, the original form michlinstadt is derived from the Old High German word michel, which means large.

A local doctor makes his specialty perfectly clear.

The grasshopper of this restaurant's sign caught my eye.

A private ivory museum, though I didn't know what it was at the time and thought the elephant decorations were interesting.

Passing through the town walls, we could get a good look at Michelstadt Castle, originally a Frankish manor which was bestowed on Einhard, the biographer of Charlemagne, in 815. Soon after, the manor was converted into a castle, then destroyed in 1304 and rebuilt. When the town wall was constructed around 1400, the castle was integrated into its defense complex.

Crossing back over the old-dry moat to the Diebsturm (Thieves' Tower).

Anaëlle in front of the Diebsturm, a corner tower of Michelstadt Castle, which served as a prison. Since the tower had no ground-level entrance, prisoners entered the dungeon through a trapdoor in the upper story.

I haven't been able to find out any information on this statue in front of the tower.

These 16th century administrative buildings added to the castle help make up the complex called the Kellerie.

This tiny house would make a wonderful scrapbooking cottage.

Upper story of a toy store

Michelstadt's Town Church is located just behind the Rathaus and its steeple was also covered in scaffolding. Dedicated to the Archangel Michael and Saint Killian, it was constructed from 1461to 1537.

Church door detail

The Mother-In-Law Fountain is one of the town's oldest fountains and was moved here from the Marktplatz in 1575. Its name is derived from the emblem stone under the orb which shows the coat of arms of the home city of the man who donated the fountain, George I, Count of Erbach, as well the home cities of his wife, her mother (George's mother-in law), and his own mother (his wife's mother-in-law).

This would have been much more enjoyable (and attractive) if the fountain had been turned on. In the middle of winter, with Anaëlle and I being what seemed to be the only tourists, the whole town was missing that nice festive atmosphere that comes with nice weather, happy people, and bubbling fountains. Oh, well.....

Upper floor of a bookstore. Click on the photo to get a closeup of the delightful drawings.

On the side of the bookstore.

Leaving the medieval center, Anaëlle just shook her head at this display of big bulky backpacks. Apparently in France, they have floppy American-style backpacks.

More Supermarket Finds

Another shopping trip in Germany, another bunch of interesting finds.

Our first item is for your dishwasher. Most Germans use those little dishwasher tablets as the cleansing solution and then you need to add two other chemicals: rinse aid and salt, and lights on the panel will blink reminding you to do so. Many of the detergent tablets claim they contain rinse aid and salt, but we were told that we should add extra rinse aid and salt anyway. Our dishwasher has special compartments for both and I usually need to refill them every three months or so. And we need the salt, of course, because the water here is so hard. I no longer notice the dirty beach smell when putting away the clean dishes, as I had mentioned when we first moved here.

Our old glasses from the U.S. were already a bit cloudy when we moved here, but new glasses I bought when we first got here are still crystal clear.  It's tablets and rinse aid for sure when we move home.

Germans don't eat as much corn as Americans, but you can usually find canned loose corn kernels at the store and at certain times of year, you may even come across some pre-husked corn on the cob. But I couldn't resist buying this cob in a jar.

Lidl, our local discount grocery store, sometimes features canned corn on the cob during "America Week." The first time I saw that, I picked up the can with the picture of corn on the cob on the label and shook it. Was it really canned corn on the cob? The heavy clunk clunk I heard and felt confirmed it.

Two of the non-discount supermarkets where I shop have several shelves of American items. For instance: yucky generic macaroni and cheese, many varieties of BBQ sauce, relish, Campbell's tomato soup (the only Campbell's flavor they carry, but we don't complain -- it's our favorite), Reese's peanut butter cups, marshmallows and 4 or 5 baking mixes (Bisquick, muffins, brownies -- no cake mixes). You will pay a pretty penny for all these items. We have discovered over the last few years, though, that either there is no German equivalent for these items or else that the German equivalent just won't do. These brownies are worth every one of those pretty pennies. To bake a 13x9 standard baking dish size set of brownies (2 boxes), I pay $13.50. You can find German brownie mix, but they turn out dry, flavorless and chalky.

But look closely at the package.

The first time I made brownies, I was putting the batter into the oven before I realized the instructions were in French. I speak French and just went with it, not realizing that I wasn't reading German. There are smaller print instructions in Greek, Italian, Portuguese and German. No English.

Ahhh, coffee ice cream. One of my greatest weaknesses. My ice cream flavor of choice. This week was the first time I have found coffee ice cream in a store. I had it one time at an ice cream parlor, but never found it at the supermarket. When my friend Kathy mentioned offhand last week that she found cappuccino ice cream at the Lidl, I choked on my coffee. Lord knows how long they'll have this flavor there, so I stocked up.

And Kathy also told me about these. Germans love yogurt.  You should see the huge selection of yogurt at Real, the SuperWalmart-type store.  And what sounds more appetizing that popcorn- and corn-flavored yogurt?  No one has been brave enough to sample them yet. I'll report back on the results.

Burg Frankenstein

Say the word Frankenstein and the one image that usually comes to mind is....

...this version of Frankenstein's monster, Boris Karloff from the 1931 film. 

But in the Frankfurt area, it also brings to mind Burg Frankenstein, the ruins of a 13th century castle located near Darmstadt.  On the way home from our very first trip to Heidelberg in September, 2007, we passed a sign for Burg Frankenstein.  "Do you think that is the Frankenstein?" I asked.

The answer to that question is "Maybe, maybe not." But we couldn't drive past that sign again without making a detour to see the castle for ourselves.

Fifteen minutes south of Frankfurt, a winding road takes you up a mountain to the ruins of a castle called Frankenstein. An original fortress was first built in the 10th century and the current castle was constructed beginning in the 13th century with additions in the next two hundred years. Abandoned as a residence in the late 1600's, it served for a while as a prison and then was completely forgotten and has been a ruin ever since with some walls, an intact though damaged distinctive tower and a small chapel, said to be haunted.

Mary Shelley began writing Frankenstein in 1816 in Switzerland and most of the story takes place in Switzerland, the Alps, and on a ship. The author, however, was reported to have visited the Darmstadt area during a boat trip along the Rhine River in 1814.

Her visit may have been prompted by a tale related by her stepmother, an English translator for the Brothers Grimm fairy tales, according to Walter Scheele, German author of two books on Burg Frankenstein. In a letter Jacob Grimm wrote to Shelley’s stepmother in 1813, he described that years before, alchemist Johann Konrad Dippel, who was born at and lived in Burg Frankenstein, had performed strange medical experiments with cadavers he removed from nearby cemeteries.

According to Scheele, many believe it was this legend that inspired Mary Shelley to pen the renowned horror story.

Conventional wisdom holds that any connection between Mary Shelley and Burg Frankenstein is tenuous at best.  Shelley never mentioned visiting Darmstadt in her journals and she rarely spoke with her stepmother.

In 1976, American soldiers founded an annual Halloween festival at the castle which became one of the biggest Halloween festivals in Europe. We toyed with idea of visiting the castle last year on Halloween, but reports were that the festivities were too scary for kids under 16.

Whether or not Shelley was inspired by this castle or its name, we can say in all truthfulness and certainty, "We visited Frankenstein Castle."