Well, here it is again — that old familiar feeling. Just when I think I’m big and important in the world, I suddenly realize just the opposite is true. Now, this may not be the most positive way to start the New Year, but at least it’s honest.
Did I have this revelation in our little sleepy, but zombie-infested, hometown of Senoia, Ga.? Nope, this time The Wife and me, we had to travel all the way to Europe.
In Vienna, we attended a concert where the violin played by the conductor was over 400 years old. The next day I bought a wool felt hat in Regensburg from a family owned hat company founded way back in 1800 by the master hat maker, Mayser. Since then the Mayser family has provided warm hats for the locals.
Though I was obviously not a local, the nice folks at the hat store were happy to sell me one. Guess they felt sorry for the guy from Georgia that thought going to Europe during the middle of winter without a hat was a good idea.
A violin older than our country and a business that had been open since Mr. Jefferson was elected president? Both made me feel very small.
Passau, Germany was where things really got interesting. We were simply in awe of the architectural wonders on display, especially the clock towers, cobblestone streets, massive cathedrals and one certain fortress/castle.
Over 350 feet tall and overlooking the banks of two main rivers that converge into the Danube stood the stone fortification of Veste Oberhaus Castle. Standing next to the river looking up, The Wife and I were amazed that, built in 1219, it was still standing. We stepped aside to let a younger couple start the steep climb of over 200 extremely narrow steps carved into the cliff face.
Before our ascent, we discussed the best way to reach the top and then started out. Soon we were past the young couple, and eventually we reached the fortification’s peak way ahead of them. The views of the convergence of three rivers from out of the arrow slits in the ancient walls were truly incredible. Snow started falling and soon covered the rooftops in the town of Passau far below.
The pictures we took were breathtaking, almost as breathtaking as the climb. We turned to leave just as the young couple made it to the top, pausing for a moment to take in the view and some much needed air.
The massive undertaking by the Prince Bishop of Passau still stands and made me feel extremely small. You see, my three brothers and I built a tree house in the backyard of 110 Flamingo St. using two boxes of Dad’s 16-penny nails. At the time, I was only 10 years old, but I thought what we built would last forever. Sadly, it took only three years for the steps to rot. After another five, the entire structure had completely fallen.
Before starting our descent, The Wife and me also took in a deep breath. I really wasn’t looking forward to figuring out how to convert dollars into euros, and neither one of us wanted to fold back up into the backseat of that taxi, the same taxi that had taken us up to the top of the castle 10 minutes before.
Trust me, during my years as a firefighter, I’ve been in some confined spaces, but taxis in Europe are really small. When we pulled up in front of our hotel, I thought the fire department would have to be called to extricate us.
In Prague we strolled down cobblestone streets framed by colorful buildings all in the Baroque style. (Baroque means curved lines. I learned that little bit of knowledge on our trip). Carvings, paintings, or statues adorned most buildings, and most roofs were topped off with a spiral. The magnificent cathedrals had towers that seemed to reach for the heavens.
But, at the center of the Town Square, the biggest attraction was the astronomical clock. Built by Master Hanus in 1410, long before Christopher Columbus discovered America, the mechanical marvel still keeps perfect time displayed in 24 hours, along with the day, month, year, positions of celestial bodies, whether it’s day or night and a whole bunch of other stuff I couldn’t possibly read.
The sounding of every hour sets off a procession of twelve Apostles emerging from behind doors on either side of the clock to greet onlookers to the town before disappearing back behind their doors.
Other moving statues flanking the clock were: a bell-ringing skeleton, a glaring Turk shaking his head, another looking into a mirror displaying vanity, and a miser holding a money purse.
I felt really small after leaving the clock built over 605 years ago, but felt even smaller after visiting Prague Castle – a huge palace overlooking the town with an original foundation dating back to 1060, six years before the Normans invaded England.
With our trek finally at a close, we boarded the plane for an 11-hour return flight home. Looking down over Europe, I know we had just scratched the surface of its history, one last reminder of how big the world is and just how truly small I am.
Once home we slept for a day and then visited the two things we missed the most: our granddaughters. Little One was so excited to see her Gigi and Big Papa, she ran over, jumped up and gave each of us one of her whole body hugs accompanied by many little kisses.
She held on tightly but didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. Little One had truly missed us. We’re really big in her world, and that makes us feel not so small after all.
[Rick Ryckeley, who lives in Senoia, served as a firefighter for more than two decades and has been a weekly columnist since 2001. His email is [email protected]. His books are available at www.RickRyckeley.com.]
