Today the path followed some interesting landscapes, though I went off and did my own thing – unintentionally – a couple of times! As I left Celle the birds were singing, the sun was shining, and the bells were ringing. What a start to the day. I connected with the path, following my own way from the hotel, and cutting off a little way of the final tally. I was so excited about the wonderful start to the day that, as I made my way along what I presume is a levy bank of sorts, I missed a turn to take me beside the River Aller. However this gave me wonderful views towards the river, and across an amazingly wet landscape on the one side, and on the other, I passed many garden plots. These garden plots (equivalent I would think to the English “allotment”) appear at the ends of the bigger towns I walk through, but are not as obvious in the smaller villages.
I managed to re-join the path a little further on in Altencelle, and set off through yet more flat landscapes. Alten Celle was the “Old” Celle. Spending time walking beside the River Aller as it flowed through the countryside. The path was quite close to it for some way, and it made a pleasant change to walk beside such a river, fast, mostly silent, and quite wide as it cut a swathe through the land. The time came though to leave the river behind and I went through a couple of charming villages – Osterloh and Bockelskamp. As I entered the latter I passed the remains of an Easter fire – still smouldering. Locals were there, dismantling the marquees, tidying up and so on. It would have been a night for boots – there was mud everywhere!
The next village was Wienhausen. What a treat. I knew there was a Kloster there, and my notes had said that it was one of the hidden gems of Germany – they were accurate. I was just in time for the 1½ hour guided tour, which I decided to take, despite the fact that it was to be in German, although I was given notes in English to read. I had arrived toasty warm from the exercise and made a big mistake. I had left my pack with the ladies in the shop, but neglected to take out my fleece. I spent almost all the time trying to control my shivering – I was sooooo cold! I did chuckle to myself though when we returned to the shop as I heard all the German women, dressed in their thick parkas, give a grateful sigh as we entered the warmth. I felt like showing them my merino T shirt and long sleeved shirt that I was wearing. They were so overdressed compared to me!
Anyway – back to the Kloster. I have no inside photos (not allowed) to show you so hopefully my words will give you a picture. It had been a convent (they call it a monastery) for over 800 years. There were a number of particularly moving things on this tour. One was the sight of 60 chests lining both sides of a corridor. They were of different sizes, a few very large ones and some quite small (obviously depending on the wealth of the owner), made of very hard wood, some ornate ones but most quite simple with almost all on legs. What was moving about this was the fact that these were what the women brought with them when they entered the convent and it would have contained their dowry linen, so little for some of them.
We went through the ornately frescoed choir, where the nuns sang their plain song every four hours. Sitting in the leather cushioned seats that enclosed each nun was something special. The floor of this room was very thick planks, but at each seat, the wear of the feet of the nuns constantly sitting and standing there, for over 800 years had worn a shallow groove in the wood. Some were so worn that they had gone through to the wood below. Looking along the line it appeared as if someone had gently scooped out a hollow in front of each place, the whole line gently undulating. There was another spot where nuns had obviously prostrated themselves. I was actually quite astonished that we were allowed to sit in the room and continue to wear out the floorboards. I wonder how much longer that will be allowed? We can no longer put our fingers on the Tree of Jesse in Santiago de Compostela, presumably because they don’t want the finger prints to wear even more.
I had to have a coffee and cake to thaw out after this, and then I made my way to Brökel where I had arranged to stay at Torsten’s albergue. As it turned out he had decided that it was far too cold to stay in the pilgrim albergue and so he put me up in his amazing house. Not only did I get a bed for the night, but he cooked a pizza and gave me a delicious breakfast too. It was wonderful chatting to him and learning what he does, and apart form anything else he does a lot for the Via Romea along this section.
He is a real entrepreneur, dabbling in many things to get an income, but his main work is restoring old furniture. He is a French polisher. He is also restoring his house – a real work in progress and it would be wonderful to see it in a few years time. He also has a Christmas market in the yard, and regular concerts of quite famous musicians. He was a bit miffed that I didn’t recognize the name of one of his guitarists, but he had no way of knowing that I know nothing about music after about 1940!!! The next day Torsten took me over to the church to see inside. Like all these churches here they are very old. Until recently this one used to have an owl living in the belfry, but steps have been taken to stop it residing there now. I was able to sing for Torsten as a thank you for all he had done for me.
It had been so cold when I arrived the night before, and the cloud cover had come in, along with overnight drizzle, and as we left the church Torsten commented “ah, the sun is smiling” – and it was. A chill wind was blowing, but the sun indeed was smiling for my journey to Rietze, where Torsten had kindly organized somewhere for me to stay.
Torsten is the man responsible for making sure the path is signed from Celle to Rietze and I was able to give him a few hints on where I had misinterpreted the signs as far as Brökel. He assured me that the signs were good as far as Rietze, and with only a couple of spots that I had to check, he was a good as his word.
As I walked through the village of Eltze a friendly woman greeted me. We chatted about the journey and she voiced her amazement that I was headed to Rome and “allein”. We said goodbye and I crossed the road to sit in the park opposite for a few minutes of rest. My few minutes turned into well over an hour because as I was sitting there this same lady, Rosemarie, came across and invited me to her house for a coffee. To that was added “would I like something to eat” – delicious bread and cheese – and then some Easter eggs to take for tea (decorated hard boiled eggs). We had a delightful time together and I left well replenished. It is kindnesses like this that are so special on this way. I am finding that it is even more so than the many other pilgrimage ways I have taken.
Rietze is a town with no places to eat and so I was very pleased with my hardboiled eggs and the bread that Torsten had given me in the morning, topping it off with some cheese, I was replete, and it saved having to resort to Muesli bars! A comfy bed and more eggs for breakfast the next day and I was set to take off again.
Leaving Celle – as I said, the birds were singing, the sun was shining, and the bells were ringing - and the land was waterlogged!
I managed to re-join the path a little further on in Altencelle, and set off through yet more flat landscapes. Alten Celle was the “Old” Celle. Spending time walking beside the River Aller as it flowed through the countryside. The path was quite close to it for some way, and it made a pleasant change to walk beside such a river, fast, mostly silent, and quite wide as it cut a swathe through the land. The time came though to leave the river behind and I went through a couple of charming villages – Osterloh and Bockelskamp. As I entered the latter I passed the remains of an Easter fire – still smouldering. Locals were there, dismantling the marquees, tidying up and so on. It would have been a night for boots – there was mud everywhere!
The path was easy to follow here - no turning off.
Which way do I go? A familiar symbol for Caminoites!
The next village was Wienhausen. What a treat. I knew there was a Kloster there, and my notes had said that it was one of the hidden gems of Germany – they were accurate. I was just in time for the 1½ hour guided tour, which I decided to take, despite the fact that it was to be in German, although I was given notes in English to read. I had arrived toasty warm from the exercise and made a big mistake. I had left my pack with the ladies in the shop, but neglected to take out my fleece. I spent almost all the time trying to control my shivering – I was sooooo cold! I did chuckle to myself though when we returned to the shop as I heard all the German women, dressed in their thick parkas, give a grateful sigh as we entered the warmth. I felt like showing them my merino T shirt and long sleeved shirt that I was wearing. They were so overdressed compared to me!
Anyway – back to the Kloster. I have no inside photos (not allowed) to show you so hopefully my words will give you a picture. It had been a convent (they call it a monastery) for over 800 years. There were a number of particularly moving things on this tour. One was the sight of 60 chests lining both sides of a corridor. They were of different sizes, a few very large ones and some quite small (obviously depending on the wealth of the owner), made of very hard wood, some ornate ones but most quite simple with almost all on legs. What was moving about this was the fact that these were what the women brought with them when they entered the convent and it would have contained their dowry linen, so little for some of them.
The exterior of the Kloster at Wienhausen
Imagine my delight when I heard, then saw the storks atop the Kloster. For me, these birds are almost synonymous with Europe and I love watching them.
We went through the ornately frescoed choir, where the nuns sang their plain song every four hours. Sitting in the leather cushioned seats that enclosed each nun was something special. The floor of this room was very thick planks, but at each seat, the wear of the feet of the nuns constantly sitting and standing there, for over 800 years had worn a shallow groove in the wood. Some were so worn that they had gone through to the wood below. Looking along the line it appeared as if someone had gently scooped out a hollow in front of each place, the whole line gently undulating. There was another spot where nuns had obviously prostrated themselves. I was actually quite astonished that we were allowed to sit in the room and continue to wear out the floorboards. I wonder how much longer that will be allowed? We can no longer put our fingers on the Tree of Jesse in Santiago de Compostela, presumably because they don’t want the finger prints to wear even more.
I had to have a coffee and cake to thaw out after this, and then I made my way to Brökel where I had arranged to stay at Torsten’s albergue. As it turned out he had decided that it was far too cold to stay in the pilgrim albergue and so he put me up in his amazing house. Not only did I get a bed for the night, but he cooked a pizza and gave me a delicious breakfast too. It was wonderful chatting to him and learning what he does, and apart form anything else he does a lot for the Via Romea along this section.
You can see Torsten's wonderful house clearly behind him.
Torsten and I, as I arrived, outside his wonderful house.
Torsten’s work in progress – the pilgrim albergue, heading towards completion.
The church at Brökel
It had been so cold when I arrived the night before, and the cloud cover had come in, along with overnight drizzle, and as we left the church Torsten commented “ah, the sun is smiling” – and it was. A chill wind was blowing, but the sun indeed was smiling for my journey to Rietze, where Torsten had kindly organized somewhere for me to stay.
Torsten is the man responsible for making sure the path is signed from Celle to Rietze and I was able to give him a few hints on where I had misinterpreted the signs as far as Brökel. He assured me that the signs were good as far as Rietze, and with only a couple of spots that I had to check, he was a good as his word.
As I walked through the village of Eltze a friendly woman greeted me. We chatted about the journey and she voiced her amazement that I was headed to Rome and “allein”. We said goodbye and I crossed the road to sit in the park opposite for a few minutes of rest. My few minutes turned into well over an hour because as I was sitting there this same lady, Rosemarie, came across and invited me to her house for a coffee. To that was added “would I like something to eat” – delicious bread and cheese – and then some Easter eggs to take for tea (decorated hard boiled eggs). We had a delightful time together and I left well replenished. It is kindnesses like this that are so special on this way. I am finding that it is even more so than the many other pilgrimage ways I have taken.
The decorated eggs for Easter. The paint is quite hard and I was surprised that no dye had gone through the shell. The two I was given were the bright orange one and the purple one.
Rietze is a town with no places to eat and so I was very pleased with my hardboiled eggs and the bread that Torsten had given me in the morning, topping it off with some cheese, I was replete, and it saved having to resort to Muesli bars! A comfy bed and more eggs for breakfast the next day and I was set to take off again.
So enjoying walking vicariously through your adventures Janet- you are amazing! Thanks for sharing and happy trails!
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