{"id":54866,"date":"2025-09-27T08:00:00","date_gmt":"2025-09-27T07:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/?p=54866"},"modified":"2025-10-24T21:00:52","modified_gmt":"2025-10-24T20:00:52","slug":"sometimes-if-you-want-something-to-be-read-you-have-to-nail-it-to-a-door","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/?p=54866","title":{"rendered":"Sometimes, if You Want Something to Be Read, You Have to Nail it to a Door"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"A<\/a>
Photo: Karin Mora<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

There comes a time in every nostril\u2019s life when it has to clench its hairs, muster its courage, and march into the brain\u2019s Board Room to say, \u201cHey, I\u2019ve smelt a smell.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

That time comes Tuesday with a whiff of autumn sweetness. <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now I\u2019m no fan of summer, and a lover of colour, but the news comes as something of a surprise. Are we really three quarters of the way through the year? Wasn\u2019t I supposed to be done with a bunch of stuff by the middle? And why\u2019s my nose not minding its own business?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I look out of the window \u2014 calm, cool, grey \u2014 then at the forecast. Yikes. <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHave you seen this?\u201d I say to The Mathematician.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe weather? I know, right? It\u2019s crazy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It is. They\u2019re predicting 29 degrees Celsius for the weekend. <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe have to go out,\u201d she says. \u201cAll day.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOkay,\u201d I nod. \u201cWhere?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHm\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Each of those dots is an hour of thought and planning. There\u2019s a lot of \u201cOh, that would be nice, though it\u2019s quite far away\u201d and \u201cCity trip or countryside?\u201d Then I have an epiphany. Our trip to the Baltic in August, the butts-on-the-carriage-floor adventure, took us through Lutherstadt-Wittenberg. We\u2019ve been saying we should visit the place for years. I check the trains.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s perfect,\u201d I say. \u201cPoetic, almost.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy\u2019s that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, not only is this summer\u2019s great send off, but Deutsche Bahn\u2019s too: they\u2019re going to dig up those tracks the week after. They\u2019ll be done by,\u201d \u2014 I check the website \u2014 \u201cDecember! So we have<\/i> to go now or be stuck with a bus replacement service.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She groans at the thought, then smiles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDecision made! You can wear your new top.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

And that\u2019s what I do. So we ride, The M and I, two atheists on their way to the birthplace of the Reformation. What would Martin Luther say?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI bet he\u2019d be wondering why there\u2019s a large bouncy castle in front of his statue,\u201d I say, sitting at a nearby restaurant eating a Popeye Burger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A teen girl walks past with a friend and says, \u201cOh. Mein. Gott!\u201d when she sees it. A young boy goes with, \u201cDas ist cool<\/i>!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s noisy,\u201d says The Mathematician.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Yep. It\u2019s all 90s pop and pushchairs here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cStill, I imagine, back in Luther\u2019s day, there would\u2019ve been festivities in front of the church and town hall,\u201d I say. \u201cJust as loud, just as busy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI guess. Want to try some of my Falafel Burger? Swapsies?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSure.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We swap a quarter and watch the revellers pass. Then we pay up, brave the sun, and pass church after church after church, most with foundations laid in the 15th century. It\u2019s magnificently medieval.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHave you seen that great tower?\u201d says The M, pointing to the top of the Fronleichnamskapelle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I look up and appreciate its brickwork.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHave you seen that shoe?\u201d I say.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhere?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThere, in the gutter beneath the tower.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She squints.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh, yeah! Just one. That\u2019s funny \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

We make our way west along the Collegienstra\u00dfe and pop into every courtyard we see. There are many studios, some with artists sitting outside, creating. It\u2019s enchanting to watch them at work, many using the same tools as their forebears five centuries earlier. What\u2019s more, the enclosed spaces seem to magically block the annoying music. So peaceful! It\u2019s like we\u2019ve stepped out of time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We see a large photo of the area dating back to around 1990. It\u2019s a scene of devastation. Many of the roofs are missing, some walls have collapsed, windows are broken or long gone. These old, historic buildings seem to have been left to fall into ruin during the GDR days. Now they\u2019ve been \u2014 are still being \u2014 lovingly restored. There\u2019s a real sense of community spirit here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDid you see the way those two were looking at you?\u201d says The M.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I shake my head. \u201cI was looking at that old lamp.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s your new top! They\u2019re mesmerised.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I shrug. It is<\/i> a nice top, all stripy and armless. (Perfect for hot summer days like this.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMaybe they think I\u2019m one of the artists,\u201d I say.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou are<\/i>!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am. That\u2019s true. <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

At the end of the courtyard we find a sign saying, \u201cThis way for the old route\u201d (or words to that effect).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou up for it?\u201d asks The M.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf course!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It turns out to be a fantastic narrow path that runs between two buildings. It has a brick roof and lovely red brick arches on the western side. We emerge into a garden with apple trees, sage, rosemary, tables, and coffee. <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh \u2026,\u201d I say.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou want to stop?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, let\u2019s carry on for now. We can come back here later.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Galerie Caf\u00e9. Quite charming. I make a note.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

We continue west towards the All Saints castle church. This is the one where Martin Luther nailed his 95 Theses on the Disputation on the Power and Efficacy of Indulgences to the church door, launching the Protestant Reformation. (It wasn\u2019t quite that neat, but history begs for abbreviation.) This is also the place where he\u2019s buried. We skip the grave and head for the tower.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ah, stairs. For 3\u20ac you can purchase a metal token from the Tourist Information Centre across the way and drop it into the turnstile. A display helpfully tells us that only 20 more people will be allowed to enter before others leave(*). <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I look at the narrow, winding staircase. <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI hope there\u2019s another way out,\u201d I say, rather na\u00efvely.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We ascend.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Round and round and round we go, spiralling anti-clockwise past locked doors and artefact storage rooms, till we come to the half way point. The two women behind us have been talking less and less, and when we meet on that small, hallowed ledge, they smile and pant. We continue on, happy to see we\u2019re now climbing clockwise. <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

When we reach the large tower-wide platform beneath the old bell, we take a breath ourselves and notice a very<\/i> narrow(**) black metal staircase. Up we trot to the observation donut, where we look out over Wittenberg and the surrounding landscape. There\u2019s a pleasant breeze up here and we stay a while, cooling off, drinking water, and admiring all the miniature buildings. There\u2019s a lot to be said for looking down on people. <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

A cohort of school kids arrives and we decide to head back down. This is when the trouble begins. On the tight metal staircase, of which you have a full and perfect view from below, we meet a mother and child, seemingly oblivious to our descent. There are people behind us so we can\u2019t back up and are forced to hug the centre column as they squeeze past.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGosh, it\u2019s very tight!\u201d the mother says as she tries to climb around my rucksack.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf only you would have known \u2026\u201d I mutter in reply.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On the stone stairs, we meet a gentleman on the up and this time we can reverse. He, at least, smiles and says thank you.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

To avoid any further congestion, The Mathematician and I decide to descend at abseiling speed, resulting in us making it to the bottom in record time \u2014 incident free \u2014 and then spending a few minutes unable to walk in a straight line. We trace a sinuous path to the Soviet Cemetery and walk around the city park. <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Slowly, meanderingly, we make our way back to the Galerie Caf\u00e9. We order coffee, succumb to cake, and take a seat in the calm, shady garden. We see butterflies about the trees and hear the occasional grassy thump of an apple falling to the ground. When the friendly and playful woman brings us our order, she smiles and with a sweep of her hand says, \u201cFeel free to eat as many apples as you like. Just pluck them from the trees or from the grass. They\u2019re delicious!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We do. They are. Ho ho. <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"A<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

A peaceful hour passes, but we could have stayed two more. Instead, we amble east along unexplored roads, past a hen party and a gleeful murder shop. <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI think they\u2019ve translated that wrong,\u201d says The Mathematician. <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

We stare at the window of a barber shop advertising both a hair- and a throat-cutting service.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMaybe. I mean, probably. Looks like the place has closed down. No repeat customers, I guess \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We pass the old university where Luther taught, climb the little hill that housed a large WWII above-ground bunker (\u201cAbove<\/i> the ground? Was that a good idea?\u201d), and slowly head back to the station along the green ghost old city ramparts. <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

All in all, a good day. All day. <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

(*) By exiting through said turnstile. Meaning if all those at the top of the tower were to jump or fall, there\u2019d not only be a bloody mess on the ground, but those patiently queueing wouldn\u2019t be able to get in, despite the recent vacation. The Germans call this kind of thing a \u201cZumutung\u201d.  <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

(**) It makes the DNA double helix look roomy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

An unusually hot weekend. A door covered in theses. A murder shop. <\/p>\n

All the things Lutherstadt-Wittenberg had to offer …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":54864,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[213],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-54866","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-cf"},"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/54866","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=54866"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/54866\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":54903,"href":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/54866\/revisions\/54903"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/54864"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=54866"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=54866"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=54866"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}