When my relatives take me to see an historic working blacksmith shop in Friedelsheim (a village not far from Freinsheim), it feels like I’m seeing the ghosts of my deceased ancestors. Albeit stalwart ghosts.
When these men laugh, the whole room rumbles. Matthias tells me they are speaking in a very heavy Palatinate dialect, the kind that booms like a subwoofer from the back of the throat.
It’s the most authentic blacksmithing I’ve witnessed to date. Note the coal forge, and the enormous bellows hanging from the ceiling (double click on photo to enlarge).
“I asked the guy about that,” Dave said to me after I’d roamed the shop taking photos of everything in sight. “He said the bellows are just for show. One of these guys had their oven vent fan replaced at home, so they brought the old one down and installed it here. That’s what they’re really using.”
Close enough. After the visit to the Schmiede, I study 19th century relics in a side room— a machine to form iron wheel casings, a drill press, a leather-punch.
When I finally tear myself away, we walk over to a bakery for a peasant “treat” – bread spread with lard, then topped with salt and radishes.
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