Traveling Mistakes
This is in answer to the question about mistakes made while traveling.
When I was young and single I took a trip to Europe with my
girlfriend. I loved it and immediately wanted to go back with someone
I loved. Two years ago my husband and I took our 25th anniversary
trip to Europe to follow our roots (I won, he wanted to lie on a
beach somewhere). One of our stops was Malan's Switzerland, a small
village near Chur. My grandfather's family came from there. It was
more than I had dreamed of and I felt a real connectedness.
We took a day trip to find the Castle Reitberg. A relative had
mentioned it since my grandpa's name was Riedberger. We didn't feel
there was a family connection to the Castle but wanted to go anyway.
We took a train and a bus and got off at the Castle Rietberg stop. We
walked up the road and found an old castle that had been added on
over the years. Some additions were quite recent and modern. We
still were not sure that this was the right castle. People still
lived in the many parts of the castle. An old lady waved to us
through an open window. There was a little girl playing in the
courtyard but she didn't understand our questions.
This was in a part of Switzerland where not everyone spoke English
and since we spoke no other languages usefully it was hard to make
ourselves understood. We asked a young lady riding a horse but she
couldn't understand us either. We saw a ruin in the distance and
decided to walk there. Maybe that was the Castle Rietberg. Our path
took us over rising brooks, wild flower strewn fields, past fleeing
deer and big-eyed brown cows with noisy bells. It was everything a
Swiss Mountain meadow should be.
We finally came to the ruin, which was next to a huge farmhouse and a
bigger barn than I had ever seen anywhere. My husband didn't want to
go in. He has a fear of trespassing, but I was insistent. We passed
the house and around the corner of another barn we saw an older
couple sitting on the porch of a little stone cottage next to the
huge ruin. I yelled "do you speak English". The woman answered that
they did. We were able to find out that the first building was indeed
the Castle Rietberg.
Our mistake, traveling on to find the name of the ruin turned out not
to be a mistake at all. The couple, Margarite and Joost, invited us
to sit with them on their porch and have strawberries and tea. They
were teachers or retired teachers from Harlem, Holland. They take
their "holiday" every year at the rented cabin. They explained to us
the history of the region and told us much about the castles, how the
peasants of the area were disgusted with the aristocracy and stormed
the castle we were seated next to, tearing down parts of it. They
said most of the farmers houses and barns in the area had foundations
made from the stones of the castle. They told us the mortar was made
with buttermilk. I couldn't believe how lucky we were to be sitting
in front of this little cottage, eating strawberries and drinking tea
while looking out over the beautiful mountains and valley and talking
to new friends.
I am sorry to say we didn't get their address to write them a proper
thank-you. Thanks, Margarite and Joost. This is the things dreams are
made of.
Jane and Ron
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