round 3: Basel.

After our surprising stay in Langnau, Mom, Dad, and I headed west to Basel, yet another place near Zürich that I'd never visited. We were originally going to spend a night or two in Lausanne, just to be someplace pretty and French-speaking and with good crepes, but there were NO HOTEL ROOMS ANYWHERE, so we ended up going to Basel. Which was delightful. I had no idea Basel was so charming. Picturesque old town, interesting cathedral, big river, another weird Swiss German dialect. Dad continued to look for signs of the Anabaptist presence; all we knew was that there had been "Anabaptist activity" all through the city, but nothing else. And that's precisely what we found, actually. It was weird. We did discover, however, that there were Roman ruins  on the outskirts of the city, in the villages of Augst and Kaiseraugst. Who knew??

GIANT silver plate, from an officers' hoard that was buried during an Alemanni attack on the Roman garrison in Kaiseraugst. The hoard was forgotten until it was discovered in the 1960s during groundbreaking near the local school. AMAZING STUFF, most of it dating to the mid-4th century AD.

Reconstructed amphitheater. The red stones are new, the white ones are original.

Palazzo mosaics. There were 29 different colors used in this one (!).

One of the remaining Roman fort walls in Kaiseraugst, hastily built from remnants of an earlier settlement that had fallen to invaders.

We spent the entire next day exploring Basel proper, whereupon we noticed some strange chicken-lizard-type animals on the train station...and just about everywhere else we looked. It's a basilisk, kids, and the symbol of the city (Basel, get it?). Didn't look anything like the one in Harry Potter. (But scarier, in my opinion. Whatever medieval weirdo came up with this creature was obviously not right in the head.)

Chicken-lizard at the train station.

Wide-angle of a nifty intersection in old town, and where we had dinner.

Dinner, in this case, turned out to be tapas at Tapas del Mar (in the brown building above). They were kind enough to let me order, and we ended up with green grilled peppers (pimientos) with sea salt; green lentils with carrots, ginger, cumin, and almonds; a meat plate with manchego cheese, sausage (salchichon--don't you love when languages overlap!), chorizo, and two types of Iberian ham; crunchy, delicious little fish croquets; garbanzo beans with couscous and cucumber; grilled zucchini strips with lemon juice, olive oil, raisins, pine nuts, and mint; and a thick slice of omelette (more like frittata) with red and green bell peppers and ham. I love tapas 'cause it's hard to overeat, and you get to try so many different little things. Delightful. 

Walking back to our hotel through Spalentor - one of the three surviving city gates, dating back to the 15th century, and possible site of Anabaptist imprisonment.

In the garden outside of our fantastic hotel, Hotel Bildungszentrum 21. The rooms were lovely and clean and affordable, the staff were pleasant, the breakfast was excellent. And they had a garden and were selling freshly-picked raspberries. And we were a 10-minute walk from the center of old town, through old town. Sigh.

An adorable street in the aforementioned old town. One of many.

Basel's Town Hall, site of additional Anabaptist disputations.

Parts of the current building date back to the 16th century, but major remodeling was done in 1900, as this ridiculous Art Nouveau mural would attest. 

Inner courtyard and tower. (Still remodeling/preserving: the giant white blob at the right is plastic sheeting covering scaffolding.)

Mittlere Brücke, over the Rhine. 

Front facade of Basel cathedral. Erasmus is buried here. (Hard to get photos of the front, 'cause the square is under construction.) 

Never seen a crypt this fancy: crazy vaulted (and frescoed) ceilings, with tombs there dating back to the 10th century, and an additional archaeological site underneath.

The main floor had an interesting exhibit of casts of the original sculptures from the outsides of various cathedrals. This one is from Strasbourg, and the original dates to the 13th century. What blows my mind is that A), this is obviously modeled on a real person,  and B) there are actual thousands of statues on that cathedral. How could the sculptors have put so much time and effort into making them all so unique??

The cloisters at Basel cathedral. Funerary monuments everywhere.

From the interior courtyard, with the main facade towers on the left.

Look at this nutty German. Heh. 

Wee ferry ("fähri") crossing the Rhine. This little boat goes back and forth across the river along a cable, using the current instead of a motor. It's not a terribly practical or necessary service anymore, but the Baslers are very proud of it, and help support the operators to keep them running. Neat.

Post-ferry, we headed to the city museum of Basel to see if we could find any Anabaptist info. Another no-go. It was a pretty great museum, though: packed full of truly interesting artifacts, and quite compact, as it was housed in a former church.

Museum entrance hall, with an impressive display of artifacts from church exteriors. 

Figures from the Basel "Dance of Death," a 15th-century mural painted on a cemetery wall which was torn down in 1805. The moral of the mural (heh, heh) was to remind everyone from beggar to king to be penitent, as death was imminent for all, regardless of status. (Some fragments of the wall were saved; all 37 of the scenes are recreated as figurines in the museum, and displayed below a transcription of the different verses Death sang to each individual in the tableau.) 

Giant dragon gun barrel at the history museum. This thing was huge and awesome. Not sure if whether was part of the Burgundian Booty from the Battle of Grandson (YES, THIS IS A THING!!! and the best-named thing EVER!!)...but it was displayed near it.

They also had boat loads of crazy wood carvings (room paneling, curio cabinets, etc.).

And this intense globe of the constellations, complete with lots of toothy, wild-eyed, terrifying monsters.

This brings me to the most hilarious thing I saw at the museum, which requires a little set-up. There was an exhibit entitled "The Cabinet of Curiosities," which was dedicated to the private art and curio collections of private wealthy citizens in the 16th century. Essentially, it was a collection of collections, with a room in the center where the museum had created its own "cabinet." There were no doors on the little room--one could enter it from four points--and a few windows from the outer room looking in. I looked into one of them right at my eye-level, and here's what I saw.

One wonders if they put any thought at all into how they might position these little sculptures. Or if this was someone's idea of a joke, and they totally got away with it. HILARIOUS. (I know it's not exactly couth to post this here, but it was just so fantastically silly and unexpected...!)

And finally, one of our last views of the city: Spalentor, again. This thing was roughy a 3-minute walk from our hotel, and we had to pass under (or around) it to get into old town, so we saw it plenty of times. It never failed to be spectacular, with its giant towers and gargoyle-y creatures and crenellations and statues. I probably took 50 photos of it.

Not my finest photo, but I like having the teensy person in there for scale. This thing is colossal.

Spalentor, in the setting sun. Very dramatic.

Next up: to Deutschland! And lovely--if packed--Heidelberg.

round 2: Langnau, Emmental.

From Bern, Mom, Dad, and I made the journey over to Langnau im Emmental, which is the home of the world's oldest continuously functioning Mennonite congregation. They meet in a building from the 1980s, which is attached to the 19th-century farmhouse that used to be the primary church building. It's a weird little conglomeration, but I think that it helps them keep their history close. (During the last century, and even until they had the modern building erected, the congregation met in 38 different farmhouses around the countryside, and at some points only over 1000 meters in altitude...at first for protection and secrecy, and later because it was just what they'd always done, and they had no central facility large enough for all of them to meet together. There's a poster in the old building that has photos and descriptions of all the farmhouses, along with bios of all of the church elders since its official incorporation.) Langnau is a tiny, but ridiculously charming, little town, full of old barns converted to housing, surrounded by steep and extremely green rolling hills, which seem too precipitous to farm, yet have all somehow been converted to grazing and agricultural territory. It's truly beautiful and extremely peaceful.

Super elaborate little barn-y structure along the road to the church.

I have no idea what to call this type of architecture...I just know I love that rounded balcony railing with pink flowers. SO. PRETTY.

The rounded eave overhang is classic Emmental architecture, or so we've been told.

The view from our hotel window. (We met up with Mike and all stayed in the cutest family-run place, but never actually met the proprietors, since they were always across the road working at their high-end restaurant. Which we were too cheap and lazy to try out, but it sounded GOOD.)

Sunday morning we attended church with the Mennonites, who turned out to be quite a modern-looking crowd (thankfully, since Mom and I were a bit worried that we might be inappropriately dressed...that whole bonnets-and-dresses thing again). Very friendly people, who greeted us in Swiss German, then switched to whatever English they knew when we responded in our own terrible German. My mother met a very sweet, older, English-speaking lady in the bathroom, who then told her husband that there were some Americans in the crowd, and he came to greet us after the service. We told Hans and Heidi about our plans to try and visit Trachselwald castle that afternoon--a place where Anabaptists had been held prisoner, and which was turning out to be a bit of a mystery as to how to get to it, whether it would be open, what we would find when we got there, etc.--and they invited us to their house for lunch, followed by a tour of the castle and surrounding countryside in their own car. It turns out that Hans, through his involvement with the church, had led many English-speaking tours around the area, so we had a lovely lunch at his and Heidi's home (complete with visit to their gorgeous garden and pond, and a homemade Linzertorte...!), got to view Hans' watercolors that he was prepping for an exhibit, and set off for the castle. Seriously, the Emmental countryside and its little towns are so charming, and Hans and Heidi were so generous in opening up their home to us and in acting as our tour guide for the entire afternoon. What an amazing and genuinely good people. 

Giant farmhouses with windowboxes!

So! Pretty!

An actual covered, wooden bridge! (Taken from the car...excuse the mirror.)

We got most of the way to the castle, by car when we came across a rather informal roadblock. And then this.

Soapbox derby! 

Originally, we thought these were children, but when we got to the top of the course, it was mostly middle-aged men in their expensive, custom, soapbox cars. Hilarious.

Thankfully, it was a touch overcast, so the trudge up the hill to the castle wasn't too painful. What a seriously interesting, and well-preserved, place.

View of Trachselwald on the approach.

Headed up the stairs to the courtyard.

The prison tower.

One of the lower-level cells. There were two in on each of three levels (except the ground) in the tall square tower; the first and second level of cells actually had some heat, as they were positioned on either side of a stove.

  

The highest level of cells, with arm shackles and a heavy wooden beam that lifts up to allow the ankles to be locked in place as well. Since it's a sitting position, the hole in the middle is the toilet. These were the cells where the Anabaptists and the leaders of the farmers' revolt (concurrent with local Anabaptist activity) were held.

These cells were barely tall enough for me to stand up in, and even in those without shackles, the space and ability to move around was almost zero. The air to each cell came in from a tiny grated window which opened to a near-vertical shaft to the outside of the building, probably 10-15 feet long. No space, no light, no air, no movement...what an awful place.

After our sobering visit to the castle, Hans (thankfully) took us on a bit of a drive through the countryside. So green, so pastoral, so picturesque, and so ridiculously hilly. The farms that run up the hillsides are extremely small-scale--not much more than subsistence--as the terrain makes it too difficult to create any kind of larger-scale agriculture here. But look how gorgeous.

The name of this hill had some variety of "Alp" in it, and it made perfect sense. Seemed like we drove  straight up for a half-hour to get to the top for this view.

What made our time in Langnau, and at Trachselwald, so unique and poingnant was to be there with Hans. His  faith, and the ability of the Mennonite congregation to meet openly as a free church (i.e., without state interference or sponsorship) are clearly of great value to him, especially in the context of Anabaptist persecution in Switzerland, which actually continued, albet in slightly less violent forms than in earlier times, into the 19th century. It has only been in the last decade that the Mennonite church has been able to officially reconcile away the traditional conflict with the state/Reformed Protestant church (or to "shake hands with them," as Hans put it). I find that almost an impossible concept to wrap my brain around: how can this country, which is about as civilized and first-world as a country can get, have allowed this particular brand of repression to last as long as it did? How can it all be that recent? It is obvious, at least for Hans and his generation, that those uncertain and violent times are never too far from memory, and it made me truly appreciative, and even somewhat proud, to be a citizen (...even if not a resident, currently...) of a country whose religious freedom has been written into its constitution since its inception. We got that part right. Pardon my wordiness, but it was all a lot to contemplate.

We spent the night in Langnau again, and tucked into some flammkuchen for dinner (one with the classic cheese/onion/bacon combination, and one with cheese/feta/onions/bell peppers, YUM) after Mike had ridden the motorcycle back to Zürich. The previous evening, however, we'd been able to find a good country-style dinner at Restaurant zum Jaeger, a rustic little restaurant with about ten tables and no other customers. Usually, that's a bad sign, but went for it, as our hostess (and one of the proprietors, turns out) spoke decent English and the menu sounded tasty. Dad, the big winner of the night, got a brat with rösti on the side...and it had bacon in it. WHAT...a tasty surprise. My leek soup and salad were perfect (since I was trying, already, to eat a little lighter...regrettably, too much German food does not work for me!!), but Mike had the most spectacular plate of the evening: a giant plate of venison in mushroom gravy, with sides of brussel sprouts, red cabbage, chestnuts, and spaetzle. It was a ridiculous quantity of food. After we had eaten just about all we could physically fit into ourselves, we had a lovely conversation with the husband and wife team who own and cook in the restaurant...such nice people! If you find yourself in Langnau im Emmental, eat there. You will not be disappointed. (Ooh, and try to have a drink in the wine cellar at the Hotel Hirschen...it's a true underground wine cellar with vaulted brick ceiling and giant wine-aging barrels and all kinds of neat stuff.)

Next up: Basel. Nobody told me it was so charming.

round 1: Zürich and environs, and Bern.

As I suspect most of you already know, my parents spent the entire month of July in Europe. I am so proud of them for doing this, for many reasons...getting out of their comfort zones, traveling for an extended period of time, going to a place where English isn't the first language, trying new foods, etc., etc., etc. I'm also very grateful that they let me tag along, especially since we all calculated that I haven't really spent just me-time with them since I was SIX YEARS OLD (thanks in great part to those I like to call "my younger siblings"). I really valued and enjoyed the experience, and I can only hope that they enjoyed themselves as well, given the monumental distances we walked, and the late-night trains we hopped, and my "occasional" tendency to be a bit "impatient." Thanks, Mom and Dad, for your patience.

The initial intent of the trip, for my Dad in particular, was to learn more about the Anabaptists (a derogatory name, meaning "re-baptizers"), the 16th-century radical reformers who felt that the mainstream Protestant Reformation hadn't gone quite  far enough in its departure from Catholicism and the practice of selling indulgences. As a result, the Anabaptists received not only the ire of the Catholic church, but of the Protestant Reformers as well. Despite torture and martyrdom, the Anabaptists still managed to establish some of the basic worship and church practices that are near and dear to our hearts: the importance of the separation of church and state; freedom of conscience and of worship; the practice of adult (i.e., voluntary and consciously chosen) baptism; and nonviolent protest and expression, to name a few. The modern-day descendants of the Anabaptists can be found in both some Baptist churches, in the Amish church, and in the Mennonite church as well (a church which, we learned on this trip, can run from extremely conservative--this is where I envision bonnets and dresses and beards and whatnot--to extremely liberal, as we saw in the hidden church in Amsterdam...but more about that later.)

It turns out that the core of the Anabaptist movement arose right here in good ol' Zürich, with Felix Manz, George Blaurock, and Conrad Grebel. For a far better treatment on all of this, you should absolutely refer to my Dad's blog, the Peripatetic Curmudgeon, which he mostly wrote while we were on the road. (Obviously, this is super impressive to me, as I can barely be bothered to write while not doing much of anything at home.) I'm going to try to keep this short, and with a slightly different selection of photos, 'cause he's already written all of this, and far more knowledgeably than I could have.

That having been said...within and around Zürich, among other things, we visited Zwingli's church, Grossmünster; the Fraukirche (with stained-glass windows by Chagall); the Wasserkirche, which, frankly, I didn't even know was open to the public and had a fascinating archaeological exhibit in its crypt; the homes and neighborhoods of Manz, Blaurock, and Grebel (such as they are today, cafes and theaters and private residences, although I have to say that the city of Zürich has done a nice job marking everything possible with plaques); the spot on the Limmat River near where Anabaptists were executed; the site of the first Anabaptist congregation; and a cave in which Anabaptists both worshipped and hid during times of persecution. It was an action-packed few days, in which I learned a great deal from Dad about the Anabaptists, and about my own city's history.

Plaque on the Limmat commemorating Anabaptist executions.  This thing dates all the way back to 2004, when the local Reformed Protestant church, Zürich city council, and Mennonite World Conference met to promote a spirit of reconciliation.

Site of the first Anabaptist congregation in Zollikon. Used to be a farmhouse, now apartments.

The cloisters of Grossmünster, which I had no idea existed until we found this during Mom and Dad's visit. Just gorgeous, and two entire walls are covered with the story of Zwingli's role in the Reformation in Zürich.

Baby goats on the long, long walk to the Anabaptist cave near Bäretswil. Talk about rural.

Approaching the Anabaptist cave.

Inside, looking out. You can sorta see the little waterfall that flows right over the cave opening. Inside was a little plaque that read something like, "This cave offered protection to the persecuted Anabaptists for quiet and prayer in the 15th century."

A view back down the trail from the cave. Very pretty, very green, and very quiet, except for the cow bells in the distance. Also, it was oddly cold here.

After four days in Zürich, we hopped a train to Bern, which was, naturally, the site of additional persecution for the Anabaptists. Again, among other things, we saw the Rathaus, where Anabaptist disputations (essentially, the opportunity to present and debate their beliefs in public) were held; the city cathedral (Münster, in German); the bear enclosure (sometimes you just have to do the touristy things, since you're there already...!); Albert Einstein's house; tons of fountains and 15th-century buildings; Käfigturm, the prison tower in which Anabaptists were held; Swiss parliament; and an actual Bernese mountain dog.

Käfigturm on the left, parliament in the right background with the green dome.

Bern's Zytglogge, an animated/astrological clock, and one of the town's main attractions.

City streets lined with 15th-century sandstone buildings and arcades.

Einstein's house.

Mug in the gift shop at the Bärengraben. I want.

Back side of a statue of Bern's founder...I love the little bear looking inside his helmet. Heh. 

Sadly, I somehow failed to get a decent photo of an entire facade of the Münster, but here's a close-up of its main entrance. Quite elaborate, and dating back to between 1460 and 1500.

A figure carved into one of the side entrances...he reminded me so much of the scene in A Christmas Story. "Stuck...? Stuuuuuck?" (Flick? Flick who?) Nice one, anonymous medieval builders.

This was something new and interesting: there are rows upon rows of "reserved" seating in the cathedral, dating back to the 18th (I think...) century, which were for guild members and important politicians. The back of each individual seat in each pew was either carved for its specific owner, or had a tiny painted tin sign indicating who sat there. Really interesting stuff.

The fancy seats. For fancy people.

And then there were the misericords. I've heard this word before, but never really looked into it: turns out, it's a little platform on the underside of a fold-down seat on which either ladies in dresses too fancy to sit in, or just anyone during an extended period of standing can lean on. This one and the one next to it are the only ones in Bern's cathedral that have faces on them.

Finches on the fountain in front of the Münster. Thankfully, we saw far more of these little guys on our adventures than we saw of pigeons. Finches = adorable. Pigeons = filthy rats with wings.

Weird little goblin-eared dude holding up the bottom of a tower. Not the last one we'd see. (Goblin dude, not tower. But that's also true, I guess.)

Ugh. Bern is just so disgustingly charming and adorable...!

Bernese mountain dog! These things are monsters, in the best possible way. There's another one laying down behind him, and the little white doggie on the right was very interested in being friends with us.

Seriously, though, read Dad's blog. It's way better and more thought-out than mine.

Up next: Langnau im Emmental and Basel.