Laurel’s Compass Travel Blog

A travel writer’s guide to adventures of sustainability and spirit

Visiting a Legendary Green Resort and Spa in Ireland

Originally posted March 2009, updated March 2023

With St. Patrick’s Day approaching, it seems only appropriate to blog about a green, holistic resort and spa on the Emerald Isle: Delphi Resort. (And by “green,” I’m thinking of the eco-friendly, sustainable type, although in Ireland, the term certainly applies to the vivid foliage too.) The unique location of Delphi Resort enables visitors to escape from everyday life to an environment where the sea and the land meet to form the most spectacular coastline in Ireland, along the Wild Atlantic Way.

The mountains of Connemara are a gorgeous setting for adventure and relaxation in Ireland’s County Galway.  Photo courtesy Delphi Resort

Ireland is infused with myth and magic—from its misty mountains to its sea-swept cliffs. When I visited in 2004, I couldn’t help but envision legendary Irish heroes at Delphi, a contemporary timber-and-stone lodge that’s hidden in Connemara’s remote fjords a little more than an hour’s drive from the city of Galway.

The 4-star Delphi Resort is located in the gorgeous Connemara Mountains of Ireland. Photo courtesy Delphi Resort

The ancient Celtic stories are, in fact, part of the area’s colorful lore. On a hike through the mountainous terrain, our guide regaled us with the romantic tale of Diarmuid and Grainne, passionate lovers who escaped the wrath of Grainne’s husband-to-be (legendary chieftain Fionn MacCool) by fleeing to various hiding places throughout Ireland. Diarmuid, a fabled warrior, is said to be buried on Mweelrea, the mountain that towers above Delphi Resort. The guide mentioned that Diarmuid is supposedly buried in the area.

A thermal suite with an outdoor view is perfect for relaxing. Photo courtesy of Delphi Resort

This nature-oriented resort’s architectural style draws from Ireland’s ancient standing stones and Celtic tree lore—reflected in its use of storm-felled oak, ash, beech and elm and (what else?) local stone. Delphi also offers water sports such as kayaking and canoeing on the lake, as well as surfing and sea kayaking at the nearby Atlantic coast. Land adventures include zip-lining, archery, bushcraft, climbing, orienteering, and, mountain biking.

A Magical Spa

The resort’s spa area, which has fabulous mountain vistas, is the ideal resting place for modern-day heroes and athletes just returned from kayaking, hiking, rock climbing or surfing. It welcomes them into a sanctuary built of local materials.

Pampering body and beauty treatments are done in candlelit treatment rooms designed to resemble the early-Christian “beehive” cells that Irish monks built and lived in during medieval times. The present-day massage therapists use certified-organic and herbal products, including Irish seaweed hand-harvested from Ireland’s west coast nearby.

Relaxing yoga, tai chi, and meditation completed my  spa experience, which was nearly as epic and wonderful as the tale of Diarmuid and Grainne themselves. One quiet morning, I gazed out through the spa windows onto the green hills covered in yellow flowers and iconic mountains. There was a light morning drizzle, and I watched fog shift over the landscape. I slipped out of the 21st century and into ancient times—though I appreciated all the contemporary comforts: my cushioned recliner, the warm thermal pool, the foot baths, the  relaxing music playing, the lemon water I sipped on.

Delphi’s health-minded gourmet cuisine—much of it local and organic—is divine. I happened to visit on my birthday, and I dined on an exquisite lamb dinner with chocolate gateau for dessert—an unforgettable meal in the lovely restaurant, which managed to be both rustic and elegant all at the same time. At another meal, I ordered the fresh-caught salmon and began musing about the ancient legend of how a boy, Fionn mac Cumhaill (Finn McCool), accidentally tasted the Salmon of  Knowledge, which he was cooking for an aged poet who caught it. Some dripping oil burned burned Fionn’s finger, and without thinking, he popped his finger in his mouth.  This destined him to become one of Ireland’s most mythic heroes.

Legendary Environmental Policies at Delphi Resort

Hiking and hill walking open up stunning vistas in Connemara. Photo courtesy Delphi Resort

Delphi Resort was built and is maintained in a way that is supportive of the natural environment. These include:

  • Waste reduction and recycling programs
  • A mechanical water-treatment plant that ensures that the water leaving the resort is as clean as the water coming in.
  • Solar panels (for preheating water) and wood-chip boilers that use wood from the resort’s sustainably managed forest. Electricity comes from a wind-farm operation in the U.K. and Ireland.
  • An addition was constructed with recycled-copper roofs, recycled-newspaper insulation in the attics, and wood came from certified managed sustainable forests.
  • Compact fluorescent light bulbs to save energy.
  • Rooms are fitted with energy-saving cards that ensure that there’s no energy wasted when units are occupied.
  • Outdoor activities are designed to minimize impact on the environment.

If you’re watching your budget, The Wild Atlantic Hostel, set on the grounds of Delphi Resort, is the perfect low-cost accommodation. It’s ideal for families, outdoor enthusiasts, hill walkers, and backpackers. Hostel guests have access to the resort’s spa, adventure, dining, and business facilities. The hostel consists of dorm-style ensuite rooms and is located onsite at the resort.

Laurel Kallenbach, writer and editor

Read more about my travels in Ireland:

P.S. For more tips on places to visit in Ireland, visit Discover Ireland.

The simple, elegant ground floor of the loft suite I stayed in at the Delphi.

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Cows on Parade: A Swiss Celebration

Stein is one of hundreds of Swiss villages that hold traditional dairy farming celebrations. ©Laurel Kallenbach

Originally posted: September 2015

Throaty cowbells clang as flower-wreathed heifers parade through the streets of Stein, a tiny Swiss village in the Appenzell cheese-making region.

Dressed in traditional costumes, farm children and yodeling cowherds drive the cows toward the Viehschau (cattle show) judging area for the “Miss Stein” bovine beauty contest. There, the cows’ stature and coloring will be evaluated. The competition isn’t just about pretty faces—honorable mention goes to cows with the best-looking udders and highest milk production.

On this late-September Tuesday morning, I’ve joined crowds of people—all jostling to watch the decked-out cows and the cowherds wearing traditional Appenzell dress pass by  on their way to the cattle show. Hundreds of people are clustered along the parade route, and there are stands selling toys and local foods. Someone is hawking colorful balloons. People wave and call out to their friends and neighbors .

Appenzell cowherds carry traditional carved or painted wooden milk pails over their shoulders.

The streets in Stein, in the Appenzell canton of Switzerland, are festive on Cattle Show Day. ©Laurel Kallenbach

“Schools are closed today, and the whole town is here,” Antonia Brown Ulli, a tour guide, tells me. She lives in Stein and is wearing a dirndl dress for the occasion. “This is one of the village’s biggest annual festivals.”

Appenzell cowherds carry traditional wooden milk pails over their shoulders. ©Laurel Kallenbach

Indeed, the locals are impressively dressed, especially the men who are colorfully clothed in Appenzell finery consisting of red embroidered vest-jackets, fancy braces decorated with silver plates, black hats ringed with ribbons and flowers, and spoon-shaped earrings. Many also carry a wooden milking pail over one shoulder.

In the days of up-to-the-millisecond Swiss watches, I’m comforted that age-old cow herding traditions are still heartily celebrated by the entire community. And these cattle processions happen in rural villages all over Switzerland. (Germany and Austria too.)

In fact, the lead cows for each farm are adorned with bright flowers, ribbons, and fir branches on their heads. I’m giddy with joy and excitement. As a cheese lover, I think it’s a grand idea to celebrate the cows (and goats too!) who provide milk for one of my favorite foods.

Contestants for the Miss Stein title ©Laurel Kallenbach

The day before, I had visited the Appenzell Show Dairy, where visitors can see how the world-famous Appenzell cheese is made—and can taste it too! There’s a full restaurant on site.

The pageantry and music—bell-clanging and the yodel-like singing of the cowherds—is my farewell to Switzerland. An hour later, I’m zipping on the train to the Zurich airport. There, on the shuttle train to the international terminal, the piped-in sounds of mooing cows and cowbells makes me tear up. Even though I haven’t officially left the country, I’m already nostalgic for this scenic country.

Laurel Kallenbach, freelance writer and editor 

For more information, visit Switzerland tourist information and Appenzell Tourism

Read more about my travels in Switzerland:

In late September, Swiss dairy farmers parade their cows through the streets of the Appenzell village of Stein. ©Laurel Kallenbach

In late September, Swiss dairy farmers parade their cows through the streets of the Appenzell village of Stein. ©Laurel Kallenbach

 

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Heaven in Hawaii: Napili Kai Beach Resort, Maui

Let me start by saying this: I cried when my husband and I checked out of Napili Kai Beach Resort on Maui’s west coast.

I’ve stayed in many wonderful hotels on gorgeous beaches, but this low-key, low-rise, plantation-style resort on secluded-by-Maui-standards Napili Bay was so perfect for us that when I turned in our room keys, I felt like flinging myself over the reception desk and begging the staff to let me stay.

A double rainbow arcs over Napili Bay on the west coast of Maui. We witnessed this glorious view from our ocean-view lanai. ©Laurel Kallenbach

Napili Kai had everything we as a couple love: a quiet, sandy beach with good snorkeling; luxurious but unpretentious accommodations; cultural and environmental appreciation; a good restaurant with fresh, local ingredients; friendly people (both staff and other guests); and all-included resort amenities like beach chairs, towels, parking, and many activities (the hotel’s motto is “we don’t nickel-and-dime you.”

The Napili Kai building blend unobtrusively into the island landscape. Buildings higher than three stories are banned from Napili Bay, so development has never become an eyesore. ©Laurel Kallenbach

Blissing Out on Ocean Time

Ken and I stayed in casual luxury in a beachfront studio unit: king-sized bed; fully equipped kitchen; huge, two-chambered bathroom with walk-in shower; and a lanai—oh, the lanai with its unparalleled ocean view facing west for excellent sunsets. Two of the three nights we spent at Napili Kai, we got Thai takeout and enjoyed Panang curry and cold Aloha Beer (brewed in Honolulu) in the loungers on our lanai while watching the sun sink below the horizon.

At sunset, a man lights the torches along the beach at Napili Kai. ©Laurel Kallenbach

At night, we turned off the air conditioning, opened the lanai doors, and slept to the sound of waves lapping against the black lava rock outside. Because our internal clocks were three hours ahead of the time zone in Hawaii, it was easy to take advantage of early morning at the beach. Each day, Ken and I watched green turtles surfing near the shallow rocks close to shore. Their heads bobbed on the surface; fins flapped above the whitecaps. Occasionally one rolled in the surf. I assume it was for fun and not hunting, because green turtles are herbivores. As they munched on algae and seagrass, they seemed to savor the act of cavorting in the waves.

We got to view the turtles from an underwater vantage when we snorkeled along the two reefs in the fairly calm waters of Napili Bay. The first thing we saw was a trio of Moorish idols, the most impressive and elegant of tropical fish. We also spotted puffer fish, a dragon eel, butterflyfish of several varieties, red sea urchins, and purple or yellow coral. But the most unique experience was snorkeling with a pair of turtles. They glide through the water so gracefully that they seem more like angels than reptiles.

Riding the Wave of Hawaiian Culture

What sets Napili Kai apart from many other beach resorts is that it highlights traditional Hawaiian culture. Most mornings, the hotel serves coffee, tea, and fresh pineapple in the Beach Cabana and presents cultural demonstrations such as lei making, wood carving, tapa cloth making, and palm weaving.

Local children learn Polynesian dances and perform at Napili Kai. ©Laurel Kallenbach

Napili Kai also also helps to honor and continue the Hawaiian culture through its support of the nonprofit Napili Kai Foundation, which shares Hawaii’s cultural legacy with Maui’s children. Every Tuesday, Napili Kai guests can attend a free, onsite hula show in which young kids and teens perform authentic songs and dances of Polynesia with live adult musicians. Though the performances aren’t as polished as a professional hula show, I must say that the teen performers were extremely good. The costumes are colorful, and the representation of Tahitian, Samoan, Maori, and Hawaiian cultures is satisfying and educational.

 

George Kahumoku plays the 12-string slack-key guitar and sings weekly. ©Laurel Kallenbach

But here’s even more Hawaiian culture to love: Napili Kai presents the Masters of Hawaiian Slack-Key Guitar concert series every Wednesday. Hosted by Grammy winner George Kahumoku, Jr. (who was featured on the soundtrack of the movie, The Descendants), this was an opportunity for Ken and me to hear live, island vocal and guitar music. (By the way: “Slack-key” is a style that originated in Hawaii, in which the player loosens the tuning of the guitar strings.)

We loved the sound. Hawaiian guitar music has a gentleness and warmth that can only come from hearing the waves and feeling tropical sea breezes on your shoulders.

Now, whenever the temperatures are below zero on the United States mainland, just hearing Hawaiian music takes me back to Napili Kai, my ideal place for relaxing Maui style.

Add to that fresh, locally sourced food in the restaurant, a weekly mai tai party, and beach loungers that beckon in the shade of the palm trees, and you have a world-class vacation location that really can’t be beat.

Laurel Kallenbach, freelance writer and editor

Originally published February 1, 2014

 

 

A paddle boarder at sunset, just off the shore of  Napili Kai. Swimming and snorkeling were also wonderful on this heavenly little bay. ©Laurel Kallenbach

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5 Unforgettable Flavors at Frankfurt’s Christmas Market

Frankfurt Christmas Market in Römer Square ©Laurel Kallenbach

Frankfurt’s annual Christmas Market is centered in historic Römer Square   ©Laurel Kallenbach

Germany’s Christmas Markets overflow with treasures and gifts of every size and price, and Frankfurt’s massive Christmas market has acres of goods for sale in booths and huts (called stube) located in its historic old town.

In fact, the market spreads over three locations: Römer Square, Paulsplatz, and the Main Quay. The Christmas market was first mentioned in writing in 1393, and was a place to buy foods and other necessities to stock residents through the winter.

Shopping Frankfurt’s festive market requires stamina, and that’s one of the reasons why the foods sold here are so enticing. Cookies, candies, roasted almonds, sausages and currywurst, and spiced wine served hot (called glühwein; pronounced “glue-vine”) beckon browsers to sample along the way—or to take home Christmas delicacies.

There’s so much to see and do at the Frankfurt Christmas Market that the organizers offer bilingual tours in German and English to help you get oriented. Make your reservations online.

In 2013, I had a delightful time on one of th tours, which focused on food booths located in Römer Square, the heart of the market—and the prettiest area. (It was reconstructed to its medieval glory after it was almost completely leveled by bombs during WWII.) I learned a great deal about Frankfurt’s delectables (details below) and rode on the vintage merry-go-round.

Yes, Virginia, there is a German version of fruitcake. ©Laurel Kallenbach

The highlight of the tour included climbing to the roof of St. Nicholas Church for a panoramic view of the entire market and the Frankfurt skyline. Looking down from this bird’s-eye view gave me new perspective.

The throngs of people were dwarfed by the half-timbered buildings and City Hall, the wide expanse of cobblestones on Römer Square, and the statue of the goddess Justice. (It was also a chance to take a break from the mad crush of shoppers!)

To cap off the tour, my mostly German-speaking group warmed up with a hot cup of mulled wine and admired the exquisite, 100-foot-tall spruce Christmas tree decorated with 5,000 lights and 500 red ribbons.

Next are five delicious food specialties that are traditionally featured as part of the Frankfurt Christmas Market, which takes place annually from late November until a day or two before Christmas. The scents and flavors of warm wine and the aroma of roasting nuts are absolutely irresistible!

Steamy mugs of glühwein ©Laurel Kallenbach

Steamy mugs of glühwein ©Laurel Kallenbach

1. Glühwein

A mug of this hot, mulled wine, either white or red, really takes the chill off the evening, and the wooden huts (called stuben in German) where this holiday beverage is served are the hub of the Christmas market. Around glühwein stands, people sometimes stand ten deep around tables, especially after dark when the night temperatures get colder.

I loved how the steamy cup of glühwein fogged up my glasses and warmed my hands. In Frankfurt, the glühwein mugs are in the Bembel style, the blue-floral pattern that dates back centuries.

There’s glühwein made of either red or white wine. In Frankfurt, I had a slight preference for the white, but naturally I tried them both. They packed plenty of alcoholic punch, so I never ventured to have one with a shot of liquor in it—though it’s available!

 

Visitors share a steamy mug of glühwein at the Frankfurt Christmas Market. The toast concludes the “Stories, Sweets, and Savories” guided tour. ©Laurel Kallenbach

Visitors share a steamy mug of glühwein at the Frankfurt Christmas Market. This toast was how my group capped off  ourguided tour. ©Laurel Kallenbach

 

Decorated lebkuchen cookies ©Laurel Kallenbach

Decorated lebkuchen cookies ©Laurel Kallenbach

2. Lebkuchen (German “gingerbread”)The saucer- or plate-sized decorated cookies you see dangling from booths are usually made of lebkuchen, although you can also buy small cookies as well.

The fact that people liken lebkuchen to gingerbread sets up an expectation that left me disappointed—because there’s no ginger flavor.

However, the Nuremburg-style lebkuchen I sampled—made from a centuries-old recipe—was chewy, dense, and far less sweet than gingerbread. It’s a blend of nutty, spicy, citrusy flavors, and it’s glazed with sugar and has a communion-wafer bottom.

I confess that I sampled my lebkuchen at my hotel and washed it down with some Kessler German sparkling wine. I was more than satisfied, even though it didn’t taste like the gingerbread I expected.

 

Honey mead ©Laurel Kallenbach

Honey mead ©Laurel Kallenbach

3. Mead (honey wine)

The double-decker Wagner Honey House at the Frankfurt Christmas Market specializes in bee products—from beeswax candles that smell so sweet you almost want to eat them to honey wines and propolis and bitters (a digestif) sweetened with honey.

Upstairs is a tasting room where you can sample the many varieties of mead, made by fermenting honey and various fruits or spices. (Mead is possibly the world’s most ancient alcoholic beverage.)

Because I’d had my fill of glühwein, I opted for the bitters, which have a palate-cleansing effect and a refreshing taste—especially if you’ve had a few too many sugary sweets.

 

4. Frankfurt Bethmännchen

Tiny cookies, called Bethmännchen, are a Frankfurt specialty. Made of marzipan rolled like a little ball and decorated with three half-almonds, the treats have a poignant story. In 1838, a banker’s family, whose surname was Bethmann, served a new sweet, decorated with four almonds for each of the four sons. When one of the sons died seven years later, the cookies used only three almonds.

Brenten cookies, Kethmännchen, and Bethmännchen marzipan cookies, Frankfurt ©Laurel Kallenbach

Bethmännchen, kethmännchen, and Brenten cookies, Frankfurt. ©Laurel Kallenbach

Since that time, Bethmännchen have become a Frankfurt tradition and are widely sold throughout the Christmas Market—along with many other shapes and sizes and flavors of baked goods, including stollen, schaumküsse (chocolate-covered marshmallow concoctions that looked like giant Mallomars), and more.

With its backdrop of half-timbered houses, historic Römer Square is in the Old World heart of the Christmas Market in Frankfurt, Germany. This hut sells Bethmännchen marzipan cookies, a local specialty. ©Laurel Kallenbach

With its backdrop of half-timbered houses, historic Römer Square is in the Old World heart of the FrankfurtChristmas Market. This hut sells Bethmännchen marzipan cookies, a local specialty. ©Laurel Kallenbach

 

5. Roasted Almonds (Mandeln)

Many stuben in the Frankfurt Christmas Market sell fresh-roasted almonds, but the one that reeled me in with its sweet-savory smells was Eiserloh’s, which sells candied almonds in dozens of flavors.

The flavors of almonds are as colorful as the Eiserloh booth ©Laurel Kallenbach

The flavors of almonds are as colorful as the Eiserloh booth.  Photo ©Laurel Kallenbach

Choices range from white-chocolate hazelnut, orange ginger, chili pepper, Bailey’s Irish cream, Nutella, pineapple, Red Bull, white-chocolate coconut, Bacardi Gold, eggnog, raspberry balsamico, and more.

 

The people behind the Eiserloh counter let me taste half a dozen flavors until I settled on my two favorites: chocolate mint and white-chocolate hazelnut. I left with a colorful cone of each, perfect gifts to take back home to the States.

I came away from the Frankfurt Christmas Market footsore—but happy with all the fabulous flavors I enjoyed there.

For more information: Germany, The Travel Destination

Laurel Kallenbach, freelance writer and editor

Originally posted December 2014

Read more about Germany’s Christmas markets:

 

A carousel is always a favorite of the kids, and this antique one at the Frankfurt Christmas Market was a beauty. ©Laurel Kallenbach

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Ghosts That Haunt Bath, England

 

The haunted halls of Longleat House. Photo courtesy Longleat

Are you brave enough to seek out some of England’s most haunted locations? There are plenty of places in and around the historic city of Bath that have fascinating ghostly histories and scary stories.

In such a beautiful and ancient town, it’s not surprising that here and there some restless spirits are still walking (or floating through) the beautiful streets of Bath.

It seems that a few of these dearly departed souls simply refuse to leave some of the elegant buildings they once frequented during their mortal lives long ago.

For a truly spine-tingling evening, take a ghost walk of the city with Bath Ghost Tours. A guide will lead you and share many startling stories about Bath’s haunted history (The tours are available from mid-March to late December.) Another option is to explore one or two of the following ghoulish locations on your own … if you dare!

The Grey Lady Ghost: Theatre Royal and Garrick’s Head Pub

The top, left-hand box facing the stage at the Theatre Royal in Bath is said to be the favorite haunt of the notorious Grey Lady ghost. Legend has it that she fell madly in love with an actor during the 18th century but eventually  hung herself when her love was unrequited.

Built in 1805, the Georgian-era Theatre Royal was beautifully refurbished in 2010. The Main House offers a year-round theatrical program, including many West End (London) productions of plays, operas, comedies, and dance—along with frequent Sunday concerts.

The Theatre Royal’s productions can’t surpass the drama of the legend of the Grey Lady ghost. Photo: Visit Bath

 

You may make it out of the theatre without encountering any specters, but you aren’t safe from the ghost of the Grey Lady even after you leave! She is also said to haunt the Garrick’s Head Pub just next door.

Enjoy good food and drink at Garrick’s Head Pub.

The Grey Lady Has a Pint with a Few Other Ghosts

The Garrick’s Head is renowned as the most haunted pub in Bath, and the ghost of the Grey Lady is only one of the weird encounters you might have. The story they tell at Garrick’s is that the Grey Lady threw herself from an upstairs window following the death of her lover in a dual with her husband. (Slightly different story, but with the same gruesome result!) Her hauntings of the theatre and pub are said to leave behind a lingering scent of jasmine.

More alarmingly, over the years Garrick’s Head landlords and bar staff have reported incidents of a poltergeist throwing candles and cash registers across the bar. In addition, it’s said that a blood stain appears on the pub floor in the same place every year. Gruesome!

Garrick’s Head was once the home of the famous Beau Nash, a celebrated “dandy” and the leader of fashion in 18th-century Britain. Nash was the Master of Ceremonies in Bath, a renowned spa town visited by the rich and royal. Garrick’s was the place to be seen back in the Bridgerton days.

Unsurprisingly, Garrick’s Head is a stately building, and its location next to the Theatre Royal always makes for an interesting and colorful crowd. It is open every day from noon onward; lunch and dinner are served in the bar, on the terrace, or in the dining room.

Lady Louisa of Longleat House

Though it is best known for its safari park, Longleat Estate also has some dark attractions even more wild than gorillas and hyenas.

Keep a lookout for the ghost of Lady Louisa, who still wanders the ancient halls frantically searching for her long-lost footman lover. The story goes that her jealous husband confronted the footman and pushed him down the stairs before burying him in the cellar, unbeknownst to Lady Louisa.

Nestled in 900 acres of Capability Brown–landscaped grounds, Longleat Manor—20 miles south of Bath—is one of the finest Elizabethan stately homes in the country. There you can step back through over 450 years of history and marvel at the fantastic collection of artworks, paintings, tapestries, and furniture collected over generations.

The wandering phantom of Longleat House. Photo courtesy Longleat

Jungle Kingdom and Animal Adventure let visitors get close to amazing animals. On the six-and-a-half-mile drive-through experience, there’s plenty to look for, from cheeky monkeys to majestic lions.

Make this year’s Halloween one you won’t forget in a hurry with a chilling Longleat Ghost Tour. A guide will take you through the spooky cellars, attics, and corridors as you explore the Wiltshire estate’s chilling past. (October only.) Suitable for children aged nine and over, this tour features live actors, so it’s not for the faint-hearted!

A Hanged Housekeeper: Francis Hotel

The historic Francis Hotel in Bath is haunted by a former housekeeper who sadly hanged herself after a long period of depression. Guests have reported being kept awake by the sounds of her scratching and tapping from inside their room. One guest reported their hot water bottle fles off the table in their bedroom.

The specter of a depressed maid reportedly stalks the posh halls of Bath’s Francis Hotel
Photo courtesy Francis Hotel Bath

Love Never Dies: Amarone Restaurant

Beau Nash’s lover, Juliana Popjoy, was so distraught when the renowned 17th-century socialite died that she lived the rest of her life in a hollowed-out tree (!!), vowing never to sleep in a bed again. Her ghost now apparently haunts their former home, which is now the chic Italian restaurant, Amarone, located in one of Bath’s elegant Georgian buildings.

Amarone’s relaxed atmosphere, combined with thoughtfully created menus and impressive decor, ensures a memorable experience in Beau Nash’s former home. The menu includes freshly prepared pasta dishes, locally sourced steaks and fish fresh from the Dorset coast, as well as stone-baked pizzas and delectable desserts. The wine list has been compiled to complement the traditional yet innovative Italian cuisine.

As you enjoy your meal at Amarone, you might notice a woman in 1960s-style clothes dining alone. She seems perfectly normal—until she disappears, presumably about the time she receives the bill!

Two ghosts grace the Italian restaurant Amazon. Photo courtesy Amarone Restaurant

Carriage of Eloping Lovers: The Royal Crescent

Will you see the phantom horse-drawn carriage outside The Royal Crescent, Bath’s most iconic landmark? The carriage is often spotted and is thought to carry Elizabeth Linley and playwright Richard Brinsley Sheridan as they eloped in 1772. Sheridan won Miss Linley’s hand after he dueled with Captain Thomas Matthews. The marriage started out happy, but later Sheridan was unfaithful. Shortly thereafter, poor Elizabeth contracted tuberculosis and died at age 38.

The 500-foot-long Royal Crescent is arranged around a perfect lawn overlooking Royal Victoria Park and forms a sweeping crescent of terrace houses. It is one of the greatest examples of Georgian architecture anywhere in the United Kingdom.

Bath’s Royal Crescent is the scene of a ghostly elopement. Photo courtesy of Visit Bath.

Today, The Royal Crescent is home to a museum of Georgian life at No. 1 Royal Crescent, the five-star Royal Crescent Hotel & Spa, and private housing. You might have seen this popular location in various films and period dramas. Jane Austen’s Persuasion included many scenes shot at the Royal Crescent, and it’s also featured in the 2008 film The Duchess starring Keira Knightley.

For more information, check the Visit Bath website. 

Laurel Kallenbach, freelance writer and editor

Originally posted October 2019; updated: October 2022

Photo courtesy Visit Bath

 

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Sleep in the Straw in Switzerland

Spending the night in a Swiss barn is fun and adventurous. Photo courtesy Schlaf im Stroh

When I travel, I’m always on the lookout for unique and independently owned places to stay that will benefit the local economy. Switzerland offers a sustainable, economical, family-friendly bed-and-breakfast experience I’ll never forget: sleeping in the straw on a farm.

Switzerland’s Sleep in Straw association (it’s called Schlaf im Stroh in German) consists of 150 Swiss farms and helps travelers easily connect with the hayloft of their choice.

Bed in a Barn

At Bruffhof Farm in Switzerland’s cheese-making Emmental region, the sound of cowbells and mooing woke me at dawn. I sat up in my sleeping bag, shook the straw from my hair, and looked around the hayloft to see if my friends were up. (Bruffhof Farm no longer operates as a sleep-in-straw; it is now an animal sanctuary.)

Bruffhof Farm, in Switzerland’s Emmenthal region, was flowering and beautiful when I visited. Photo © Laurel Kallenbach

Bruffhof is just one of Switzerland’s Sleep-in-Straw network in which visitors bed down in the barn—not with the animals, but sometimes in an adjacent area. (At most farms, restrooms and showers are located in separate buildings.)

Guests can volunteer, if they like, to help out with farm chores: collecting eggs, picking vegetables, helping milk cows. The side effects: plenty of fresh air, a lot of fun (provided your loft-mates don’t snore too loudly), and a better understanding and appreciation about where your food comes from and the hard work that farmers do.

For breakfast: fresh-baked farm rolls. The food at Bruffhof was outstanding. Photo © Laurel Kallenbach

My breakfast at Bruffhof was heavenly, with homemade bread, jam, and muesli. The cheese, yogurt, butter and honey were from the farm’s own cows and bees. “Families stay here so their children learn where food comes from,” said farmer Franz Schwarz (who spoke just a little English).

Bruffhof Farm grows organic herbs—many for the Ricola cough-drop company, based in Switzerland. The rest of the farm is certified as “Integrated Production,” a Swiss designation that allows only minimal pesticide/herbicide use. Farmer Franz and his equally hard-working wife, Rita, also raise goats and dairy cows.

How well did I sleep in the straw? Pretty well, actually. The fresh, sweet-scented hay was soft, and I managed to arrange it beneath me in a relatively comfy contour.

How Farmhouse B&Bs Work

At a Sleep-in-Straw farm, there’s always the possibility you’ll be sharing the hayloft with strangers. I traveled with a group in late September, so we had the entire sleeping area to ourselves, but if you’re traveling singly, as a couple, or with a small family in the busy summer, you’re likely to get to get acquainted with fellow snoozers from all over the world.

This beautiful, handpainted sign pointed the way to the Signer farm B&B in Switzerland’s Appenzell region. © Laurel Kallenbach

To make reservations, you choose a farm in the region of your choice and book your “sleep in straw” experience directly with the host family—they’re the ones who benefit from the fee.

(These days, running a family farm requires entrepreneurial ingenuity, and the farm owners truly need the extra income generated from this B&B program. One of the joys of staying on a farm is that you’re experiencing a different place in an authentic way—and your money goes to a great cause: the continuation of small-scale, responsible agriculture.)

It’s best to book in advance. You bring your own sleeping bag or pay a bit extra to use one of  the farm’s. Blankets are provided by the hosts. Many of them also offer pillows; if not you can always bunch up straw inside a blanket for that purpose as well.

The Details

  • Sleep in Straw: The per night fee is economical and includes breakfast. Some Sleep in Straw farms offer other amenities (such as dinners and even beds in bunkhouses) for an extra fee.
  • If you’re not comfortable communicating in German, French, or Italian (Switzerland’s three national languages) be sure to find a farm with English speakers. At Bruffhof, where the family was German speaking, it was easy communicating with hand signals, and one of the Schwarz daughters was a excellent student of English at school.

    My friends and I felt like kids at a “lofty” sleepover! © Ursula Beamish

  • Many Sleep-in-Straw farms are accessible by bicycle. Eurotrek rents bikes, maps out self-guided routes for you, and organizes daily luggage transfers between accommo-dations, including farm-stays.
  • For more information: Schlaf im Stroh (click “Catalog” for downloadable, multilingual information on the farms).

Laurel Kallenbach, freelance travel writer and editor

 

Originally posted in July 2013.

Read more about my travels in Switzerland:

 

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Uncovering Callanish’s Secrets: An Archaeological Tour

Update: With great sadness, I’m reporting that Callanish researcher and archaeo-astronomer Margaret Curtis died in March 2022. Read on for the insights Margaret shared with me when I visited the Callanish Neolithic sites on the Isle of Lewis in 2012.

Seeing, touching and photographing the astonishing Callanish stone circle on Scotland’s Isle of Lewis is only part of the delight of visiting. Because I’m more than a little obsessed with these prehistoric treasures, I wanted to learn what archaeologists think about this particular circle when I visited. So I did a little research and dug up a wonderful guide, Margaret Curtis, who has observed and excavated sites around Callanish for almost 40 years.

Margaret Curtis led tours of the Callanish standing stones. Here, in 2012, she explained the Triple Goddess stones inside Callanish III circle. © Laurel Kallenbach

I first read about archaeo-astronomer Margaret Curtis on artist Jane Tomlinson’s blog post,  and knew that I had to meet Margaret. So I phoned her before I left the States to request a tour. Just like that, I had an appointment with a local expert!

As it turned out, Donald and Nita Macleod, the owners of Leumadair B&B where I stayed, are good friends and supporters of Margaret’s research. So, Donald drove me and Margaret on not one, but two, tours of Callanish—which encompasses far more than just the large circle I’d journeyed to see. [Note: The Macleods have retired, and Leumadair B&B is now closed.]

Many megalithic sites—including other circles, stone rows, burial cairns, and single standing stones—dot the countryside and farmland. Collectively, these 20-plus sites are called the Callanish Complex.

Monoliths, Moons, Mountains, and Myths

I was so lucky to hire Margaret Curtis to be my guide.  She shared her enduring passion for the secrets and mysteries of the extraordinary Callanish Complex.

Here’s Margaret Curtis with the Callanish I endstone in 2012. This stone marks the end of the avenue of standing stones that leads up to the central circle. © Laurel Kallenbach

Over the decades, Margaret’s  life’s work included logging untold hours examining the stones; finding ones covered by thousands of years of peat; and unearthing hidden, but important, sites.

Yet earthworks and rocks are just part of the story. Like the Callanish builders four to five millennia ago, Margaret was also a student of the sky. Although she never formally trained as an archaeologist or astronomer, she chronicled how ancient people carefully planned the Callanish sites to mark a number of astronomical events, including a lunar rise and set that occurs only every 18.5 years. Now that takes decades of observation on both the part of the builders and the archaeological sleuths! (Over the years, Margaret carried out her extraordinary work and research with her first husband, Gerald Ponting, and with her late husband, surveyor Ron Curtis.)

The standing stones on this Scottish island align with the sun and moon, yet there’s a third element at work here that makes the Callanish Complex extremely brilliant and, well, complex. On the horizon to the south are mountains, dominated by Mt. Clisham. If you use some imagination, you can see the head, breasts, belly, and knees of a reclining form. In English, she’s called Sleeping Beauty, but in the old Gaelic she’s “Cailleach na Mointeach,” the Old Woman of the Moors. I like that name so much better than the one referencing the fairy tale.

Behind the Callanish Visitor Centre is the reclining figure of the Old Woman of the Moors. The blue mound just to the left of the highest peak is her face. You can just make out the nose in the center of her “face.” © Laurel Kallenbach

 

The Man (or Woman) in the Moon

Cailleach na Mointeach, who also represents the Earth Mother or Earth Goddess, is the key to why all the Callanish standing-stone sites were built, archaeo-astronomers believe. The circles are all located in areas where viewers could see the once-every-18.5-year lunar event: when the full moon, at its rare southern extreme, rises from the sleeping body of the Old Woman of the Moors.

This celestial event was important enough that prehistoric people erected stones that would frame this special moonrise and moonset. As she wrote in Callanish: Stones, Moon, and Sacred Landscape (coauthored with Ron Curtis): “Seen from the Callanish area, the moon at its south extreme rises from some part of the Sleeping Beauty, passes low at due south, sets into the Clisham Hills, then reappears briefly and dramatically in the deep valley of Glen Langadale.”

Callanish III stone circle, where the two center stones frame the face of the Old Woman of the Moors. This is where the moon rises every 18.5 years. © Laurel Kallenbach

And there’s more: when the full moon reappears in the valley, a living person can stand inside the ring of stones and be silhouetted by the moon—a vision that’s as heart-stopping today as it must have been in 2200 BC. (You can see some photos of this at The Geo Group website. The last event occurred in 2006.)

Walking with the Wise Woman of Callanish

In 2012, when she was in her late 70s, Margaret was truly the Wise Old Woman of Callanish. She said she was personally most interested in the area from a scientific point of view, but she acknowledged that her work also drew from local history, folklore, and ethnology. She gave tours to modern pagans and goddess worshippers, and she said that their insights into earth-based rituals informed her work. After all, there are no written records about Callanish, so oral tradition in the form of legends can contain kernels of truth.

 

The white mineral deposits on the bottom half of this stone create  the Horned God, found at Callanish I. His large torso is slightly leaning to his left, and you can make out what appear to be “antlers” on his small head. © Laurel Kallenbach

At the start of my tour, Margaret took me to her workshop, where she demonstrated how the Callanish stone circles were designed to be ellipses—not just a poorly made circle—and how the stones were erected. She even let me hold a 4,000-year-old arrowhead—a tiny remnant of the prehistoric people who lived on this island. Mind-boggling!

Later, we ambled through Callanish I, the main stone ellipsis, which Margaret called both “a stone-age computer” (because it marks solar and lunar events) and a “community center” (because it was a gathering place for singing, dancing, and burying the dead).

In a way, Callanish is still a community center—of World Heritage Site calibre. Over the days I was there, I heard visitors from several continents speaking various languages, and I watched children have foot-races down the stone-lined avenue, the ancient entryway to the main circle. I saw photographers and artists capturing images of the stones on paper or in digital format. Couples paused to kiss. Baa-ing sheep gazed over the fence at the stones. Dogs lifted their legs to pee on the stones. Ravens alighted on the monoliths. Many people sat amid the stones and meditated or wrote in their journals. Occasionally someone would sing.

“People tuck flowers or special, meaningful items into the stone gaps and graves here,” said Margaret. She pointed out that someone had climbed up and left a carved bone atop the tall End Stone of the Avenue—the very top that had been broken off since Victorian times and that Margaret found amid a pile of rocks. The top has now been cemented on, thanks to her!

A peephole formed from two stones. ©Laurel Kallenbach

If you look through the rectangular peephole formed by two separate stones, you may be able to see sunrise at Summer Solstice. ©Laurel Kallenbach

Along the way, Margaret related the individual history of many other stones, which she knows like the back of her hand. She pointed out a stone in which the hornblende crystals naturally form a shape that looks strikingly like the pagan Horned (or Antlered) God. The gneiss stones were surely chosen because of their shape, size, and the presence of quartz (a crystal associated with the sun) or hornblende (a mineral associated with the moon).

She also showed me the notches in two separate stones in the Callanish I circle. At Summer Solstice, these two notches form a square “viewfinder” through which you can see the midsummer sunrise. In addition, an east-west line of stones lets you sight through two stones to witness both the Spring and Fall Equinox.

Stones That Mark Celestial Events

There are really too many highlights from Margaret Curtis’ tours for me to relate, but here are a couple of other Callanish sites on the Isle of Lewis that are well worth visiting:

1. Barraglom Narrows  stones (Callanish VIII)

These standing stones are picturesquely positioned on a cliff overlooking the narrows that separate the Isle of Lewis from the Isle of Bernera. By sighting the east horizon from the third large stone here, you can spot two standing stones on a distant ridge. On Beltaine (May Day) you can see the sun rise between the two standing stones.

The standing stones at the Barraglom Narrows are just part of about 20 prehistoric sites that comprise the Callanish Complex on Scotland’s  Isle of Lewis. © Laurel Kallenbach

2. Callanish III Stone Circle

I loved visiting Callanish, especially at about 7:30 p.m., when this photo was taken. I’m wearing rain pants to cut the sharp wind and also to let me sit in the grass by the stone of my choice without getting damp. All is not paradise on this Hebridean island. Shortly after taking this picture (in early August), I had to put on my wool cap and gloves for warmth. And the midges started biting at sunset. Still, theres no place I’d have rather been.

Sitting in what’s now a cow pasture (watch out for cow pies!), this small, elliptical circle surrounds four stones, which Margaret believes represent the Triple Goddess (one each for the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone) and her male consort (represented by a tall, penis-shaped stone).

If you stand at a sighting stone a few hundred yards outside the Callanish III circle, you will see the full moon rise at its rare southern extreme (every 18.5 years) from the body of the Wise Woman of the Moors—and that event is exactly framed between two stones.

Four hours later, if you move to a second sighting stone that’s at a different angle to the circle, you see the moon reappear from behind the mountain in the valley of Glen Langadale. This too, is perfectly framed by two stones in the circle.Well, if anyone is still reading this too-long post, you’re probably as much of a geek about ancient standing stones as I am.

Here’s to looking at the moon…

Laurel Kallenbach, freelance writer and wannabe archaeo-astronomer

For more info, click on Visit Scotland or Visit Isle of Lewis

Updated: April 2022

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The Bolder Boulder 10K Race Is Back!

After two years of being canceled due to the coronavirus pandemic, the Bolder Boulder foot race returned to the neighborhood streets of Boulder, Colorado. It’s been a tough two years, and the absence of this race—which is almost synonymous with Memorial Day in my home town—has been sorely missed. But for 2022, the race was back to jubilation!

Local kids spray a Bolder Boulder runner with cool water at the 2022 Bolder Boulder 10K race. ©Laurel Kallenbach

As the Bolder Boulder website notes, there’s a lot more to race day than the 10K. It’s part run, walk, parade, costume party, pro race, and sponsor expo. There’s both a Citizen’s Race and the International Pro Team Challenge, which attracts top male and female athletes from around the world. There’s also a category for wheelchair racers. Founded in 1979 as a small, local 10K,  the Bolder Boulder has since grown to be one of the largest community running events in the world. Before the pandemic, our town celebrated every Memorial Day with more than 50,000 participants and 70,000 spectators.

The finish line is always at the University of Colorado’s Folsom Field, which becomes the perfect venue for everyone to gather and watch the professional race and the Memorial Day Tribute. All the runners finish in the packed stadium where crowds are cheering. Afterward, many people stay to watch the grand finale, the Memorial Day Tribute.

Runners and walkers of all ages have a thrilling time on the Bolder Boulder race route through town. ©Laurel Kallenbach

I live about a 10-minute walk from 19th Street, one of the principal throughways for the race, right at about Mile 3 of the race. After having no race in 2020 and 2021, it was exciting to head down to watch a nonstop river of runners, joggers, and walkers jubilantly celebrating on a sunny and cool day. My husband, Ken, usually runs the Bolder Boulder, so I generally post myself someplace on 19th Street and wait, camera ready to snap some photos of him in full runner mode. Sadly, this summer he was out of town, but I wouldn’t miss this the opportunity to revel again with thousands of other spectators—especially after missing the race for two consecutive years.

 

A few people ran the 2022 Bolder Boulder with masks on. Others wore masks around their necks for after the race when they entered the crowded Folsom Stadium. ©Laurel Kallenbach

 

I have to admit that as I walked toward the race, a dark thought crossed my mind. This was a gathering of tens of thousands of people. What if there were a shooting? Just three months ago the Table Mesa King Soopers grocery store reopened after the deadly March 2021 shooting. I took a deep breath, shrugged off my fear, and kept walking. I’m so glad I did, because when I arrived, the race was blaze of energy and smiles, costumes and local bands playing music along the race route. After isolating for the better part of two years, there I was amid happy humanity. The sight made me laugh; it also brought tears to my eyes, realizing the toll the pandemic has taken on us as social beings.

 

Runners get splashed with water near Cotton Candy Corner of the Bolder Boulder race. ©Laurel Kallenbach

 

I also was keenly aware of the smell of sunscreen as racers passed by. The waft of scent from people who were breathing hard due to physical exertion set off another alarm: we emit about 130 times as many aerosols per minute during high-intensity exercise than when we’re at rest, say studies. All those airborne particles  raise the risk of transmitting COVID-19. But those statistics are from gyms, I reminded myself. Out in the open air, the risk is much less. Plus, there was a light breeze.

Soon I relaxed and laughed at runners raising their arms to receive a sprinkling of cool water from kids with their Super Soaker water blasters. I was also standing on “Cotton Candy Corner,” where volunteers were handing out cotton candy for runners in need of a jolt of sugar energy. Across the street a band was playing bluegrass.

Some young runners take a cotton candy break. ©Laurel Kallenbach

 

Memorial Day marks the official beginning of summer. This year, for me, the Bolder Boulder is a reminder to get back in the swing of doing social, summer activities that I love and that make our town unique—including celebrating the joy of  being in community with others in the great outdoors.

Laurel Kallenbach, writer and editor

 

A spectator cheers at the Bolder Boulder. ©Laurel Kallenbach

 

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My Pilgrimage to the Real Downton Abbey

Downton Abbey: A New Era is now in movie theaters, and I’m reliving my exciting visit to Highclere Castle in 2012.

I admit it: I’m among the millions who are enthralled by the hit PBS television series, Downton Abbey, set in England during the early 20th century. We Downton Abbey fans are fascinated by the escapades of the Granthams and Crawleys, who live in an opulent country manor house.

Catching the first glimpse of Highclere Castle—the film location for the Downton Abbey TV series and films—literally took my breath away. ©Laurel Kallenbach

So, as I was planning vacation in southwest England in 2012, it made sense that my husband and I should seek out the real Downton Abbey: Highclere Castle. This beautiful estate—set on 1,000 acres of parkland in Berkshire, England—about 1.5 hours west of London—is the film location for the “upstairs” scenes of Downton Abbey.

In case you’ve been living under a rock, Downton Abbey is a posh costume drama—OK, it’s really a souped-up soap opera—that follows the lives and romances of the aristocrats and servants who live in this lavish estate home. The story also jumped to the big screen and has, to date, two major motion pictures.

The cast of the Downton Abbey TV series, which airs on PBS

Meet the Carnarvons

In real life, the Carnarvon family has lived at Highclere Castle since 1679, and the history of the house rivals—and sometimes parallels—the dramatic storyline of the hit show that’s filmed there.

To get the scoop on the Highclere estate’s history before we traveled to England, Ken and I read Lady Almina and the Real Downton Abbeypenned by the current Countess Carnarvon, Lady Fiona, who is the Eighth Countess Carnarvon. The book contains many juicy historic tidbits—some of which are  even more fantastic than the fictional TV show. Here are just a few:

  • In 1895, Almina Wombwell married the estate-rich but cash-strapped George Herbert (the Fifth Earl of Carnarvon). Almina was the illegitimate child of the über-wealthy Alfred de Rothschild. Her generous dowry funded many improvements at Highclere Castle—and the tales of her shopping sprees are mind-boggling to us 21st-century commoners.
  • During World War I, Almina, the Fifth Countess of Carnarvon, transformed Highclere Castle into a convalescent hospital for wounded soldiers—as did the fictional Lady Grantham and Mrs. C

    The Countess Carnarvon’s biography of Lady Almina .

    rawley in the Downton Abbey television show.

  • Lord Carnarvon, Almina’s husband, funded Egyptologist Howard Carter and was instrumental in discovering the tomb of King Tut in 1922. Some artifacts that Lord Carnarvon brought home from archaeological digs are on display at Highclere Castle.

This last fact really piqued my interested, as I’ve had a lifelong passion for ancient Egypt. I’ve known who Lord Carnarvon was since I was eight years old—so imagine my excitement when at Highclere Castle I saw old photos of Lord Carnarvon studying maps of Egypt’s Valley of the Kings in the same library where Downton Abbey’s Lord Grantham gives instructions to Mr. Carson, the butler.

A Tour of Highclere Castle

Since Downton Abbey’s premiere, visitation to Highclere Castle has quadrupled, so I reserved tickets online 90 days before our visit—to assure that it wouldn’t be sold out. (Highclere isn’t open to the public every day because it’s a private home. Tickets gain you entry for 2.5 hours either in the morning or afternoon. There’s a separate admission fee for the Egyptian exhibition.)

The three Crawley sisters—Sybil, Mary, and Edith—from Downton Abbey. Photo courtesy PBS.org

Our first glimpse of Highclere Castle was from the parking area; a bus was disgorging passengers. So we headed first to the loo, as we’d had an hour-long drive, which involved getting lost along the way. (What’s a pilgrimage without a long, winding road filled with travail?) In our case, we had to brave driving on the left side of the road, and we had to stop for directions twice. One sweet older man at a nearby village told us to cross the bridge, travel up the hill past the estate owned by Andrew Lloyd Weber (the composer of Phantom of the Opera, Evita, and Cats fame), and straight on until we saw signs.

Once inside the Castle, we ooh-ed and ahh-ed as we passed through the marvelous Entrance Hall into the Library with its gold-plated, leather-bound books; red carpets; and carved shelves. It’s odd when a place you’ve never been before seems so very familiar. Such is the theatrical magic of film.

Although there’s no formal tour at Highclere, each room has a knowledgeable docent who answers questions about the room. Several of them worked as stewards during Downton Abbey filming. Their job then—as it is while visitors stream through—is to be sure that nothing is disturbed or broken in the historic building while the light and camera crews are at work.

Highclere Castle’s Music Room is lined by beautiful tapestries displaying monkeys, rabbits, peacocks, and owls. This room isn’t used as a Downton Abbey setting, probably because it’s rather small, but it features a desk that belonged to Napolean.

The regal Oak Staircase. Photo courtesy Highclere Castle

The Smoking Room doesn’t appear in the TV show either, but as the place where the men gathered after dinner, it was also the storage spot for a number of Egyptian artifacts. Funerary jars that were once used as umbrella stands are now in museums.

The lovely green-and-yellow Drawing Room, on the other hand, is the location for a number of scenes in Downton Abbey, as Lady Grantham and her daughters often meet there. During season 2 of the show, the wounded WWI soldiers slept on cots in this French-style room, which was decorated by Lady Almina in the early 20th century.

Throughout the house, tables and walls are covered with portraits of the Carnarvons—from the 17th through 21st centuries. The modern snapshots—far less formal than the paintings—are a reminder that this is still a private home.

There’s other evidence of modern use too. There’s a hair drier on the vanity in the Mercia Bedroom (Lady Grantham’s bedchamber on the TV show—much featured in the scenes in which she nearly died from Spanish flu). Occasional guests stay in the very bedrooms that are broadcast around the world.

The Stanhope Bedroom, decked out in red carpet and draperies, was the perfect setting for the scandalous television scenes involving the infamous Mr. Pamuk, who spent his last night in this bedroom following a romantic tryst with Lady Mary.

Highclere’s Stanhope Bedroom became Mr. Pamuk’s bedroom in Downton Abbey. Photo courtesy Highclere Castle

For the record, Mary’s bedroom and dressing room are actually a stage set and don’t exist in Highclere Castle. Neither do the kitchen and servants’ rooms. Downton Abbey’s entire downstairs is constructed in period style in the London studio.

The Saloon, Oak Staircase and Dining Room

The highlight of our Highclere Tour was the Oak Staircase leading from the Gallery-level bedrooms to the main part of the house. Ken and I paraded down the ornate-banistered staircase like Matthew Crawley and Lady Mary into a large room called The Saloon, the heart of this grand house—and a room that’s much featured on Downton Abbey. Its stone fireplace, carved cabinets, and arched doorways appear in famous scenes such as the Servants’ Ball and the concert for the soldiers. This spot just took my breath away.

The elegant Saloon is overlooked by the Gallery. Photo courtesy Highclere Castle

It was delightful, also, to visit the Dining Room, where many an elegant meal—usually partaken of by the Dowager Countess, played by Maggie Smith—is filmed. It must be quite an experience for the present-day Carnarvons to sit at the table under the watchful gaze of the portraits of their ancestors.

Just as we left the main part of the house to go to the Egyptian exhibit, one of the guides asked whether we’d seen Countess Carnarvon, who had been walking through the rooms chatting with them just minutes before. Rats! We missed her. She was probably wearing jeans and blended in with the visitors.

Perhaps it’s just as well…I hadn’t practiced curtsying. But I can’t help thinking it would have been fun to say, “Good morning, Your Ladyship.”

Laurel Kallenbach, freelance writer/editor

P.S. Many thanks to the Carnarvon estate for use of the photos of the interior of Highclere Castle. You can see slideshows of Highclere Castle photos at the castle’s website.

Originally posted: February 2013

Updated: March 2022

Read more Downton Abbey posts:

Highclere’s Georgian-era house was remodeled in 1849 and became the Victorian castle as it appears today. Architect Charles Barry built the spires in the style of London’s Parliament Building, which he also designed. © Laurel Kallenbach

 

 

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Descent into Dachau: Why I Visited a Concentration Camp

On April 29, 1945, American troops liberated the survivors of Dachau concentration camp in Nazi Germany. This anniversary is much on my mind lately because one of the characters in my novel-in-progress is 18 years old when his unit discovers one of Dachau’s Kaufering subcamps, where emaciated prisoners lived underground.

Entering the gate into the historic site of the WWII-era Dachau Concentration Camp. The words “Arbeit Macht Frei” are ironic. They translate to “Work will make you free.” ©Laurel Kallenbach

I’ve studied and written about the Holocaust since I was young, but I didn’t visit a Nazi concentration camp until a trip to Germany in 2017. I was spending several days in the beautiful city of Munich, where I was enjoying the food, the opera, and museums. There were so many enjoyable options in the city—and then there was Dachau, the original prison camp/concentration camp that Hitler opened in 1933 to detain political prisoners.

Though it’s built 19 miles outside Munich near the village of Dachau, this hellish camp casts a long shadow. It was the dark side of Munich, a city best known for its jubilant Oktoberfest celebration, overflowing with Bavarian beer, pretzels, and sausages.

I see-sawed: Yes, I would go to Dachau. But no—why drag myself into the horrors of history when I could enjoy far more lighthearted pastimes in Munich?

A guard tower and barbed wire at Dachau Memorial Site. ©Laurel Kallenbach

The Gates of Dachau

Ultimately, I took the S-2 train from Munich and caught a bus to the Dachau Memorial Site. I have never regretted it. Admission is free, although there was a charge for the guided tour in English.

First I watched a film that covered some of the history of Nazi Germany, including the intense nationalism and anti-Semitism whipped up by propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels. It explained that the camp was for men only, and that at first most of those incarcerated there were political prisoners—anyone who opposed Hitler—including Catholic priests, Jehovah’s Witnesses, Roma (gypsies), and conscientious objectors. After Kristallnacht (a pogrom in 1938), more and more Jews were arrested and sent to Dachau, where they did slave labor, often working on armaments.

The tour in English, led by a wonderful interpreter named Rafaela, was so wonderful, especially since I was traveling alone. First, Rafaela emphasized that Dachau is now a memorial site where we come to honor those who suffered and died there. Like any sanctified place, there is no eating or smoking on the grounds, and appropriate attire and a quiet demeanor are requested.

The grounds of the enclosed camp are vast. They were once filled with barracks except for an open area where prisoners lined up for roll call twice a day. ©Laurel Kallenbach

Dachau served as a model for all later Nazi concentration camps. Essentially, it was a school of brutality and fanaticism for member of the SS who ran it. During its twelve years of existence, more than 200,000 men from all over Europe were imprisoned here and in its numerous subsidiary camps in the outlying area. Though Dachau was not a mechanized “death camp” like Auschwitz in Poland, 41,500 were murdered there.

Rafaela led us through the concentration camp’s notorious iron gate which says in German, Arbeit Macht Frei (“Work will make you free.”). Passing through that gate made me swallow hard, because the only “freedom” Dachau offered was death, and men were literally worked to death.

Survivors of Dachau called it “The lie on the gate.” The reality was that Dachau marked the beginning of genocide, planned by Nazi leaders and carried out on a massive, industrialized scale.

Survivors in Dachau packed into overcrowded sleeping quarters, where seven men had to share two small beds. The bunks were three-tiered, and anywhere from 350 to 800 men slept in a single room crowded with 120 beds. Photo: United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, courtesy of National Archives and Records Administration, College Park

Inside the camp, we had a history lesson about how Germany went from being a democracy to a dictatorship in just months. As Hitler and the Nazi Party took power, the nation’s constitution was abolished. Freedom of speech, freedom of the press, and the right to a fair trial were revoked. It reminded me that the freedoms afforded to us by democracy are not to be taken for granted or lost because of apathy.

History and the Politics of Hate

The grounds of the enclosed Dachau camp are vast. They were once filled with prisoner barracks (all destroyed except for historic recreations so that visitors can witness the cramped conditions), and an open area where the imprisoned men were lined up for roll call twice a day—morning and evening.

Large signs at Dachau show WWII-era photos. In this one, Dachau prisoners are lined up for roll call. ©Laurel Kallenbach

Rafaela described how roll call sometimes lasted for hours if the number of prisoners present didn’t match the number on the roster. Sometimes dead corpses had to be dragged out for the endless counts. If someone was missing, everyone stood motionless outside until the person was found. Sometimes roll call lasted all night, and people often died from exposure to the elements.

My tour group stood on the gravel-paved site of the roll calls. It was early February and semi-overcast with a slight breeze, and I was cold even though I was wearing a down parka, a wool hat, and gloves. I can’t imagine how the men felt with their bare heads shaved, wearing only thin shirts and trousers and clogs made of canvas. Survivors reported they got cramps in their toes from trying to keep the loose shoes on their feet while they were running.

The Dachau Museum included extensive information regarding the lives of the men imprisoned there, including everything from music in the camp (including choirs and an illegal orchestra) to medical experiments performed on live inmates. ©Laurel Kallenbach

We also toured the “bunker,” the euphemism for the prison, which also acted as the center for torture and detention. Our small group walked in silence down the Bunker corridor, and our shoes on the cement echoed, sounding like harsh SS jackboots in the hall of cruelty. We passed various types of cells, including hunger cells, total-darkness cells, and a vertical “coffin” cell too small to sit or lie down in. There were even cells for SS men who had discipline problems or were too lenient on the prisoners.

One of the more famous prisoners held in Dachau’s prison was Georg Elser, who tried to blow up Adolf Hitler, Göring, and Goebbels in 1939. He was kept alive so that Hitler could mock him after he won the war, but when it was apparent to the Germans that they were losing the war, he was executed in Dachau just 20 days before liberation.

The crematoria were built in summer of 1940, after prisoners from countries other than Germany were arriving at Dachau and the camp’s mortality rate increased. About 11,000 bodies were cremated here. ©Laurel Kallenbach

If Dachau’s prison and the torture center (in the large and gripping museum) weren’t enough to sober me up, Rafaela led the group to the area where we saw the camp’s crematoria—so familiar looking if you’ve seen any Holocaust-era photographs or documentaries. They epitomize the evil of extermination camps—which Dachau was not—although with our guide’s help, I realized that any concentration camp has massive fatalities due to starvation, overwork, murder, and rampant dysentery and disease.

Next, I was shocked to learn that Dachau had a gas chamber. Rafaela did not lead the group into the building with the gas chamber, but she gave us what little information there is about it while we stood outside. The gas chamber is disguised to look like a shower room and some accounts claim that it was never used to kill anyone, just that it was for training SS officers who would later be posted to extermination camps in the East. Other scholars think the gas chamber was used just once; still others say two or three times. Regardless, not viewing the gas chamber is always an option. Indeed, only a handful of people on our tour, including me, walked into this ultimate tool of evil. It was sterile, and did appear like a shower room. There were holes in the ceiling, where there once were mock showerheads—but instead of water they flowed with prussic acid poison gas, called Zyklon B.

The first memorial at Dachau was this sculpture, known as the “The Unknown Prisoner,” a bronze by Fritz Koelle. It was erected on April 29, 1950 (the fifth anniversary of the camp’s liberation) north of the old crematorium. ©Laurel Kallenbach

I did not take a photo of the gas chamber. I did not linger. Perhaps some people could feel the dead. I could not, though I could feel my own anger and fear at the disastrous consequences of state-sanctioned hatred, hyper-militarism, and racism.

During the Nazi regime, Dachau was termed a “protective custody” camp. Meaning, I suppose, that it protected those of the so-called “Aryan race” from those who believed in peace not war, from those who spoke out against tyranny, from homosexuals, from those of Jewish or Slavic or Roma or African cultures.

Why subject myself to the pain of witnessing the relics of inhumanity? When I was 16 years old, I wrote a lengthy research paper for my Honors English class about the literature of the Holocaust. I remember having a dream while I was writing it: an image of a single flower poking up its slim shoot from the trampled-down soil in a Nazi concentration camp. I knew the next morning that the title of my paper was meant to be “A Flower Grows in Auschwitz.”

The flower is a symbol of hope amidst hopelessness, of a sliver of love against an empire of hate. I’m not nearly so idealistic as I was at 16, but I do cling to the idea that nothing good comes from suppressing the vicious, ugly side of human nature. Yet, if we acknowledge that we have the capacity for extreme evil, we also possess the capacity of unshakeable love.

Near the crematoria, which is in the back of the Dachau site, are several churches where people of faith can seek solace. Our tour guide pointed out the Jewish Memorial, the Mortal Agony of Christ Chapel, the Protestant Church of Reconciliation, and the Russian Orthodox Chapel as places individuals could visit after the tour.

Next, our somber group ambled back toward the camp’s entrance to the  International Monument, the place where people have created art to express the lesson that something like this should never happen again. “Never again” is the reason we need to be vigilant about human rights abuses—large or small—around the world, including in US prisons and detention centers. None of these should be allowed to get even close to reaching the epic proportions of the Shoah.

Art and Remembrance

Except for the crematoria, most structures on the stark grounds of the former Dachau concentration camp appear fairly mundane at first glance. Birds swoop from the trees; cars drive by on roads at a distance. But Dachau’s artwork shatters any sense of normalcy. At the end of the tour, Rafaela led us to Dachau’s International Monument, a place of art, where people come to pray, meditate, and remember. “Never Again” is the place’s mantra.

The visceral bronze sculpture created by Holocaust survivor Nandor Glid ©Laurel Kallenbach

The Monument is dominated by a huge bronze sculpture of skeletons caught in barbed wire, designed in 1967 by Yugoslav artist Nandor Glid, a Holocaust survivor. Though a solemn quiet reigns over the Dachau Memorial Site, Glid’s sculpture screams of the horror of this place. Visceral, it’s impossible to deny, and it epitomizes the horror of this place.

I gulped back tears and walked from end to end of the massive sculpture. The closer you stand to it, the less you can see of anything but those skeletons looming against the sky. I zoomed in on smaller details of the memorial art through my camera lens: empty eye sockets, finger bones that look like barbed wire.

There’s also an art installation showing the various prisoner badges that imprisoned people were forced to wear. The triangular cloth insignias, worn on the shirt, labeled each man according to his so-called “crime.” (People could be arrested for something as minor as graffiti or saying something against the Nazi regime.)

In the Dachau Monument is a piece of art recalling the triangle badges that marked every prisoner after 1937. ©Laurel Kallenbach

Red was for political prisoners, yellow was for Jews. Blue marked immigrants and purple labeled pacifists and Jehovah’s Witnesses. Black was the badge for “asocials” including Roma people (Gypsy), hobos, and prostitutes. Green marked “professional” criminals. Pink was worn by homosexuals. A dot below the triangle meant that the prisoner was to receive extra punishment in the form of hard labor.

Rafaela pointed out that the art installation does not depict the green, black, or pink triangles because the monument was created in 1968 by the International Prisoner Committee that represented former political prisoners. It honored only the categories of prisoners from “recognized” persecuted groups at the time, which were only those who were persecuted for political, racial, or religious reasons.

I also paused to contemplate at the “Never Again” memorial, where those words are carved in five different languages. Ashes taken from the Dachau crematorium on Liberation Day were ensconced in the memorial.

The “Never Again” memorial. Those words are carved in five different languages. Ashes taken from the Dachau crematorium on Liberation Day were ensconced in the memorial. ©Laurel Kallenbach

Liberation of Dachau

The first Nazi concentration camp was also one of the last that was liberated—on April 29, 1945. Nine days later, on May 8, 1945, Nazi Germany surrendered unconditionally and the war in Europe was over.

According to Rafaela, when U.S. troops arrived in the area, the first thing they noticed was a putrid stench coming from a train full of dead bodies. Prisoners from other areas of Germany had been locked in the cars for 21 days without food or water. The Americans were also appalled by stacks of naked corpses, stripped because their clothes were needed for the constant influx of prisoners evacuated from other concentration camps. Enraged American soldiers executed several of the remaining SS guards, some of whom were 14 or 15 years old. By this stage of the war, the only German males left to conscript into the army were boys.

The soldiers brought civilians of the village of Dachau to the garish site. Rafaela told us of accounts that those villagers and families of the SS officers, who must have turned a blind eye. When they saw the emaciated corpses, they knew that their home town would forever be reviled for being a a place of evil.

Preparing for a Visit to Dachau

I doubt there is a way to prepare yourself for a descent into an emotional pit like Dachau, but I promised myself that I could leave at any time if I felt overcome by emotion. I was armed by general knowledge about the place, but even so, there were surprises—facts or emotional reactions I hadn’t anticipated.

A number of times while I was walking through the place, especially in the museum, I felt myself hiding behind the detached mask of intellectualism or behind the façade of “neutral” journalist. Somehow it was easier if I used “researching my novel” to shield me from emotional breakdown.

Dachau Concentration camp opened in 1933 and was liberated by American soldiers in 1945 ©Laurel Kallenbach

I believe it requires a detached mindset to visit Dachau, or any “dark tourism” site such as the 9/11 Memorial Site, Wounded Knee in South Dakota, the Manzanar War Relocation Center (California), or the Memorial for Peace & Justice and the Legacy Museum: From Enslavement to Mass Incarceration (Montgomery, Alabama)

I do believe it’s important to pay attention to your body and emotions—and to know when enough is enough. Dachau will always carry the residue of horror and violence, of torture and sadism. Going there confronts us with emotions we prefer not to acknowledge in ourselves: revulsion, fascination, disbelief, hatred, fear of people who are “different.”

There’s also the danger of succumbing to much grief and sadness. The Visitor Center film pointed out that people survived because of “brotherly love.” Prisoners worked 14-hour days on a scant ration of thin soup. Under those conditions, it was hope that kept people alive.

It was those tales of humanity that were more emotional for me. I anticipated the inhumane treatment and the torture, but I wasn’t prepared for the acts of compassion. Reading about people who sacrificed themselves to save others opened the cracks in my emotional armor. Those stories were the things that made me cry.

But it’s also possible that stories of heroism and kindness can be overshadowed by the enormity of the cruelty and depravity in Dachau. The history of Nazi concentration camps is proof that humans have an unlimited capacity to inflict suffering. So, it’s important to be conscious of when you’ve had enough of visiting Dachau. Enough is truly enough. I see no virtue in enduring beyond what your own nervous system can cope with.

However, those who can bear to confront difficult emotions while standing in the exact location of hell on earth become witnesses for truth. We cannot hide from history—or from the fact that our species is capable of unspeakable evil—but we can walk into a place like Dachau knowing that there is some cupful of good, even in the midst of an ocean of evil.

Laurel Kallenbach, writer and editor

Barbed wire at the Dachau Memorial ©Laurel Kallenbach

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