World Chump - Wanderlust

There are not many families who have traveled with animals (cats, in particular) the way we have. Consider that the Ginger Cat, God rest her soul, made a dozen moves with us spanning five continents. Ginger Cat was the diplocat personified.

You would also think that traveling would get a little easier for the cat, with the more practice she has. Not so. The Ginger Cat would remain a terror on four legs, just ask the vets who needed to provide her with a clean bill of health before every trip. The Ginger Cat took absolutely no prisoners. She was ready to take any of those vets out, if that's what it came down to. The Ginger Cat weighed less than five pounds, but she knew how to throw her weight around.

Liebi's late cat, the Persian cat and multiple grand champion Leddy, never made a fuss. Probably accustomed to a life on the road as a beauty contestant, she figured, oh well, that's the way the ball bounces in this world. If I was meant to be judged at another beauty pageant, so be it. Let's go and get this over with.

Zelda, our Tanzanian orphan cat, has traveled well compared to the Ginger cat, although you can tell that the stress wears on her as well. Once she realizes we are close, she relaxes and surrenders, even though she will still shake at the beginning of the journey.

One thing we've always hated doing is leaving the cat at home. Needless to say, the cat will always voice her opinion about being left alone, which prompted us to our latest experiment, which is to take the cat with us on vacation. We figured let's just go with the formula. She goes with us, we reach our destination, we can be a family together on vacation. No harm, no foul.

Maybe we'll pass the next time around. In the end, it just isn't worth the stress the cat is going through, and we even think she may have given up one of her nine lives in the process. On the three-hour car drive to Freiburg, Zelda first starts shaking uncontrollably. Where exactly is she going? Correct, she doesn't know, and the fact that she could be moving with us to a new home or to the slaughterhouse is not helping. You would think a cat would have trust by now after all these years, but it's hard to be soothing and convincing when a cat is driving in a car at 100 miles per hour on the autobahn and is absolutely terrified out of her mind. Not what I would call gentle persuasion.

Once we arrive in Freiburg, it's no better. Zelda finds a suitable hiding place - the bathroom, as it turns out. Only slowly does she emerge from her new base to give the kids and then later the parents some love and, more importantly, to receive it after such a draining trip.

At night, the cat sits on the window sill and gazes out over Freiburg. Something must have caught her attention - a squirrel, a rat, who knows? - to the degree that she wants to leave the apartment the next day. We don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing.

On the trip home there is no improvement. She is shaking, again the German autobahn that would feel to a human like he's living on a runway at Rhein-Main International Airport. At home, she dashes for safety. Point taken. You stay home next time, kitty. When in doubt, leave the cat home.

On our last day in Freiburg, we still had a few outstanding items, and a most unexpected gem. 

First, we decided to drive out to the country, to the Mundenhof, a perfect place for a family gathering. The Mundenhof is everything you would expect from a big farm, or even a little town cut out from Little House on the Prairie. There are huge barns, vast meadows, and even a little church for good measure. There is a nice, reasonably priced restaurant for lunch. There's a gift shop that also sells some of the locally made delicacies, among them their apple juice and their prize-winning ice cream.

The only thing I haven't mentioned yet is the animals. No worries, there are plenty of horses and cows, although these don't seem to be accessible to the public. On the other hand, bisons, llamas, and camels are abundant and graze at will. There are smaller exhibits for meerkats (even in the Black Forest region of Germany) and monkeys, plus an aviary. Of course there is a huge playground, just to make it worthwhile for the kids. There's a parking fee of five euros, admission is free, donations are welcome. A great option for families who enjoy country life.

From the Mundenhof, we still have a date with the Japanese Garden in the neighborhood of Betzenhausen. This was on Liebi's wishlist, particularly because Liebi has always harbored ambitions to create a Japanese garden of her own. This one doesn't disappoint. It's as good as an original, which it literally is, since it was gifted to Freiburg by one of its sister cities, Japan's own Matsuyama. It's amazing what people can do with just an acre of land. 

But this isn't what catches my attention. The surrounding neighborhood of Betzenhausen clearly is. Betzenhausen itself surrounds a small lake, the Flückigersee. Around the lake is a bowling alley, a swimming pool, minigolf, and the aforementioned Japanese Garden. There are miles and miles of walking trails, punctuated by an observation tower in the near distance. There are barely any cars that have access to the public area, so you can stroll around at your leisure. 

Next, you'll be thinking: right, we also have a name for that where we come from: Geneva, Monte Carlo, Beverley Hills, or name your luxury resort of choice here. Not so in Freiburg-Betzenhausen. There are single family homes, there are even a few highrises, there are social (subsidized) apartments. Everybody is welcome, you couldn't plan a community any better. And of course you can reach the place by the number 1 tram line. Tasteful and convenient. And to think Betzenhausen used to be a village.

That, to me, seems like the model for a modern neighborhood. Centered around a public space with plenty of green space, easy access, hardly any vehicles. Get out of the car, get into the paddle boats. Environment and civilization. Betzenhausen says you can have both.

As much as we have always wanted to visit Freiburg and the Black Forest region, I have to admit there was also another motive a mere thirty miles, across the Rhine, one country and one language away: the medieval town of Colmar in Alsace, France. Our mission was to visit one of the most unique Middle European cities...and score a few cases of fine Burgundy wine.

For beginners, we need to do the trip. For somebody who still remembers the European Union when it was anything but that (translated: dozens of territories with borders), it still feels weird crossing the Rhine and not being checked for a passport and any suspect cargo. Crossing the Rhein in the year 2019 almost feels as weird as crossing the Deleware, except that the Hessian (or French) forces are not shooting at us from the other shore.

We park north of the Parc du Champ, where there are a dozen French generals who are memorialized for whatever riches they brought to France when it was an empire. Although small, the park is simple but stylish and is a great place to hit most parts of the city. We don't fool around and head straight for La Petite Venise, also known as Little Venice to the east of the park. Here you find rows and rows of old Tudor houses, their uneven sides and sagging roofs screaming Middle Ages, all tastefully located along a small canal (a river actually, La Lauch) flowing past them. here we walk at the rate of a yard a minute, or one photo per house. Each house is unique with its own gorgeous features.

We reach a roofed market where a group of Chinese tourists is smoking outside after admiring the cheeses, meats and other assorted French delicacies inside. As you would expect, the cheese shops alone are worth the (free) price of admission. They have so many delicious blue cheeses alone, it's hard to choose. That's France for you.

After lunch, we walk through town until we reach the Unterlinden Museum, the museum with an interesting layout in that it connects two buildings, an old church and a former indoor pool, by an underground pathway. The church now enjoys a second life as one half of a museum which features religious art - remarkable, considering that the church otherwise would have been begging for a wrecking ball. There is art from almost every epoch, including modern art with heavyweights like Picasso and also more abstract artists like Nicolas de Staël, but also late medieval art from Colmar native Martin Schongauer. You'll also be surprised at how kids enjoy art museums, which seem to appeal to their more basic instincts. 

Finally, it's time for the wine. We pick one (I won't say which one; after all, I had to pay for my wine) and make off with six cases of wine, including a rose bubbly, dry Burgundy and Pinot Noir. There must be a dozen wine merchants in town, and I doubt there's a bad winemaker among the lot. Another welcome sign of the times: French entrepreneurs who speak English!

That's Comar in a page. I can sum up Colmar much shorter than that, in two words: just visit. Take Freiburg as a base, hit Colmar from there, and Switzerland if you have the time.