This post is about a 17km walk from Rockenberg to Lich. I walk past the gallows of Münzenberg and Amsburg Abbey.
A group of trick-or-treating parents and kids had told me about a barbecue hut on a hilltop at the edge of their village. So I went there to spend the night in the shelter of the hut. A perfect place for a camp.
At one point the owner of a nearby goose farm, showed up and asked me if I needed anything. Then, a bit later a young man who was about to turn 30 at midnight, rode his bicycle up to the hut and hung out with me for a little while.
I had therapy in the morning. I usually do it online, via video call. So I got up, did my exercises, ate two bananas, drank the rest of my tea from the day before, and then I sat in my chair and told my therapist about my life and about my demons.
What if I was doing everything wrong?
At some point while we were talking the geese came out of their stable and into the nearby enclosure, one thousand of them, running in all directions, attempting to fly but failing at it, yelling at each other and at the world in unintelligible, annoyed, annoying sounds. They reminded me of my demons.
What if nobody cared?
I had another call lined up, so it was around noon when I finally got going. I said goodbye to the demon-geese, and when I did they came walking in my direction, some eyeing me from the side, others looking straight at me, all of them yelling at me.
Just like my demons.
It took about an hour to get to the gallows. They stood on a hill overlooking the fields, surrounded by bushes and trees. Only the essentials were left: two massive pillars and a wooden beam connecting them at the top. It felt a bit like some morbid kind of Arc de Triomphe.
An article online claimed that they had been last used in the 18th century. I stood there, wondering. The trees and the bushes – were they there at the time? The poor person who died here last – had they been able to see the fields and the hills for one last time? Or had they been blindfolded? Did they suffocate, or did their neck break?
Münzenberg Castle was closed. It didn’t matter much. At nightfall I arrived at Amsburg Abbey. It looked as if it had been converted into private living quarters. I saw light in some of the windows, but I was too shy to ask for a place to stay.
There was a large parking lot with a few mobile homes in it. I had my dinner while talking to Rabe, a retiree who had been traveling in his camper van for more than 150 days.
“So you’ll be home soon,” he said, pensively, “and then what?”
the walk from Rockenberg to Lich: