History, Harz and Heath

This was the other place that prompted me to plan the trip. I had wanted to see the north of Germany after seeing pictures of a few of the Hanseatic towns, and to see some places I'd researched for a project I was working on. While looking at the city of Lüneburg, I came across the famous heath.

Well, the northern German trip fell by the wayside, but the heath, that remained. Seeing how I love flowers, unique architecture, and the outdoors, it was a no brainer. Thinking we might not be back to Germany for a long time, we shoved it in at the end of the this trip. No, actually we planned the trip backwards from Lüneburg because the heather bloom isn't very long, and can happen anytime between August 8 and September 8. Or maybe it's the ninth.

Anyway, we were in luck. We got to see the purple heather, the famous Heideschnucken (the sheep that are an essential part of creating the environment here), sheep dogs, and a real live German shepherd (the man, not the dog).

Now for the technical details...

This unique landscape was formed after the Neolithic era by overgrazing, or so the internet tells me. There are a few megaliths and burial sites from the Neolithic and Bronze Age, when it was a region populated by migratory farmers. They farmed by burning the woods and planting in the sandy soil, moving on after a short time as the soil was quickly depleted.

The area is one of sandy soil, bogs, and forests. It was once held as common land by the Kingdom of Hannover, and broken up with the end of feudalism (1831) into individual plots for locals. Farming though, died out in the late 1800s, as the land land wasn’t suitable for intensive agriculture. Farming villages tended to be small, and bee keeping was a wide spread income supplement. Much of the heathlands were lost when the small holders sold off their lands to the Prussian treasury or the Hannover monastic chamber (the group that oversaw the lands of secularized convents and monasteries).

As the Nineteenth Century progressed, the heathlands were swiftly disappearing. This was partially due to the absence of grazing in the area, because it’s the grazing that makes the heath. The area was also seen as unwelcoming, empty and useless. It wasn’t until the end of the century that it came to be appreciated for its innate beauty, and the first efforts were made to preserve it. This effort expanded with the work of a local minister, Wilhelm Bode, who worked to preserve a part of the heath from development as holiday homes. In 1909, the Nature Park Society was founded, and eventually this area was chosen for the site of a north German nature reserve.

Today, the heathlands are kept healthy and blooming by the work of the local sheep, the Heidschnucken, which we look forward to visiting and eating. Other local specialties include Heidekartoffeln (potatoes), locally caught trout, heather blossom honey, and pancakes made of buckwheat.

Now if you’re into historical mysteries, or as some people might say, conspiracy theories, it’s been reported that Heinrich Himmler, after his death in British captivity, was buried somewhere on the heath. The story goes, the four British shoulders responsible for the burial being bound by the Official Secrets Act, never revealed the location. Himmler did die in the nearby town of Lüneburg, where he was taken after being caught on his way from the final capital of the Nazi regime in Flensburg. Historian Mark Felton has theorized that Himmler was heading south to the Harz mountains (where we just visited) to pick up a stash of hidden cash and jewels. From there he intended to head south to Italy and then to the Ratline out to South America. The Harz region did contain one of the last pockets of German resistance, and a great deal of gold and money was recovered by the Allies there, so perhaps there’s something to it. Can’t get away from old Heini on this trip, can I?

Oh-- the town of Wendish Evern, on the eastern edge of the heath just south of Lüneburg town, was where the Nazis surrendered to the British. As we’re a Patton family, maybe we’ll give that a miss.

When we arrived, it was too early to check in to our pension, so we parked the car and hit the trail. A British couple told us that the heath was already fading and turning brown. OH NO! I missed it. But no, they were wrong, as our pictures show. They were also the first native English speakers we'd come across on the trip to that point.Les mer