A Visit to the Black Forest

Today, a big bus took us on lots of skinny roads that wound and twisted and turned through the most dense forest I have ever seen—and the valleys looked like they fell MILES to the bottom, soooo I closed my eyes and maybe snoozed a little to pass the time. Shhhh… I don’t want our guide to think I wasn’t hanging on her every word about the pines and the peaks and the valleys, but I did catch the most important things: It is called the Black Forest because the Romans, who found it after the Celts, saw the impenetrable trees, so dark and so dense, and called it that—the silva nigra—and I suppose the name stuck. Also, the Brothers Grimm lived here and wrote the darkest, creepiest children’s books of all time, and this tracks. If you were surrounded by the witches’ huts that Hansel and Gretel made famous, you’d probably write about dark spirits, too.

At our destination, we toured some of the ancient homes of the German farming and dairy communities—the houses are hundreds of years old, but the wood floors and walls still smell like the smoke that would have pervaded the houses at the time, as the ladies of the house cured meat and cheese for the winter. The rooms are low and dark, but really spacious, and surrounded entirely by dark, aged pine. 

After seeing some of the buildings, we had two demonstrations—the first was about the traditional costumes of the Protestant women of Gutach. A lady in a black skirt, socks made of rabbit fur, a black vest, and an enormous hat made of enormous balls of black yarn explained to us all the things she was wearing. Her costume, native specifically to this city, indicated that she was a married woman (black balls of yard instead of red ones) from a wealthy family (hence the pretty gold chain she had on), and then explained that she would not have been able to wash this outfit. A lady made it and wore it forever without ever damaging it in water or anything—the skirt was made of a hybrid of linen, wool, and silk, and felt DEEPLY uncomfortable and scratchy (she let us feel it), but y’know. She had those sweet rabbit fur socks and frilly white bloomers on to keep the scratchiness at bay.

Then a butter churning exercise! My dad made butter for us! The lady asked for a volunteer, and when no one stepped up, he did! He turned the paddles until the butter stopped him, and then we all ate the butter—it was delicious, and I will vouch for his butter-making skills.

At lunch, we were offered a buffet of German foods to try, so when it was my turn, I wanted little nibbles of all the things, and when I said that to the server, who definitely thought he was funny, he heaped the noodles all over my plate. When I laughed and reminded him, “no, no. LITTLE bites,” he TOOK A HANDFUL OF THE NOODLES WITH HIS HAND AND PUT THEM BACK IN THE BOWL. I don’t know who all was behind me, but they for sure got some German noodles that were handled by German hands….. Everything else was delicious. :-)

On to the cuckoo clock workshop! The last man in Gutach who knows how to wood carve by hand and then assemble the clocks showed us his process. The tiny bellows that connect to the clock hands and the tiny wheels and cogs that have to go together are so intricate that I don’t know how he knew what he was doing, but the clock he made functioned when he was done! Dad wanted a clock—and had wanted one for a while—so one is now on its way back to Elkville as we speak!

 Now, back to the ship to pack and prepare for the journey home. We leave at 6:45 in the morning, head to Zurich, where we go to Dublin, from where we go to Dallas, from where we go to St. Louis, and then home. Oof. Gonna soak up the pampering while I can!! Stay tuned for the last leg of the journey—am hoping our luggage makes the journey with us….