Schneeburg

When your child is done with school for the day at 12:10, he not only has enough time to do his homework, but also to begrudgingly accompany his mother on what was supposed to be a reasonably short hike. Thanks to remarkably poor signage (as the pocket Badische Zeitung hiking guide explains, many of the trail signs were stolen shortly after the trail was updated a dozen years ago), we ended up spending three hours on a six-mile hike--and that, an abbreviated version of what was only supposed to be a 9 km round trip. There were ruins involved, of course, but after today, I believe I can speak for both myself and Elias when I say we've had our fill of the dinky ones. As Elias said, "I wish we could see some ruins that were never ruined."

Today's destination was the Ruinen Schneeburg, located atop the Schoenberg, near the village Merzhausen, on the southern edge of Freiburg. Built in the 13th century by the Lords of Hornberg, ownership had transferred by 1349 to the leaders of Ebringen, a town owned by the Kloster St. Gallen. The Burg was abandoned by 1500 because the commanding authority had built a new residence down the hill in Ebringen. Like the Zaehringer ruins, Schneeburg (which wasn't so named until 1575) became a casualty of the German Peasants' War in 1525.

We didn't make it home until 18:30. Despite the relatively late hour (by German standards), the Tuesday farmers' market in front of St. Urban church was still in full swing. We wrapped up our evening pleasantly with a dinner of homemade ravioli (half pesto, half sun-dried tomato/mozzerella) with diced tomatoes, parsley, and fresh garlic--all from the market. After Elias was in bed, Rodi and Renate returned from their two-day tour of Burgundy, bringing tales of Romanesque churches and one non-ruined Burg after another. They also brough a bottle of red wine, which, after a few months of the local Spaetburgunders, was startlingly rich and complex.