Tractor Fayre 56825 Schmitt

The 2nd part of my trilogy “sad things that German’s do” is to detail (to my eternal shame) my attendance at a local tractor gathering (known as a Treckertreffen) in the village of Schmitt, in the Cochem-Zell district of Rheinland-Pfalz. I shall avoid the obvious gag here about “I used to be a tractor fan, but these days…”. On getting out of the car, we were greeted by a musky pong of fried onions, bratwurst, wood smoke and diesel fumes, to the strains of John Denver’s Take Me Home, Country Roads (I kid you not). This set the scene nicely for an exceptional period of trudging around a large field looking at tractors, in various states of rusting and agriculturally-accelerated decay. For a mundane a rather utilitarian vehicle, they certainly do have a variety of forms; one could say almost endless.

At the tractor fayre in 56825 Schmitt, owners and tractor enthusiasts (especially vintage or classic models) come together to show their machines, take part in orientation rides, and socialize with others who share an interest in agricultural machinery. The Treckertreffen in Schmitt features a healthy array of tractors (and some vintage cars) on display and group rides organized by local tractor clubs such as the IG Treckefreunde Schmitt/Eifel. On the day I attended this  included rather unsafe elevation in the bucket of some Leviathan tractor, which affords excellent views of the local countryside and an opportunity to void the rectum at the same time.

Masquerade Artwork (1979)

I have such fond memories of this strangely occult and pagan-themed book, which I remember leafing through with amazement whilst at Junior school. After decades mostly out of the public eye, the iconic treasure from Masquerade resurfaced on the market and now belongs to a collector once more. In November 2025, Sotheby’s offered the same golden hare at auction again. The pendant originally sold for £31,900 in 1988, but this time it fetched £82,550, well above its pre-sale estimate. It was bought by a private collector in Great Britain.

Masquerade is a beautifully illustrated puzzle book created in 1979 by the English artist Kit Williams. At first glance it looks like a whimsical fairy tale about a small hare named Jack who travels through a dreamlike world, but every page is quietly doing something else: hiding clues. Williams embedded riddles in the paintings, borders, and lettering so that careful readers could piece together a set of directions leading to a real, physical treasure.

That treasure was a small golden hare pendant, made of 18-carat gold and decorated with jewels. Williams buried it somewhere in the English countryside and announced that whoever solved the puzzle in the book could claim it. The idea captured the public imagination. Hundreds of thousands of people studied the illustrations with magnifying glasses, looking for patterns, hidden words, and visual jokes that might reveal the location. After nearly three years, the hare was found in Ampthill Park in Bedfordshire, though the circumstances of its discovery later caused controversy, since it was revealed that the finder had been tipped off rather than having fully solved the puzzle as intended.

The book itself became a cultural phenomenon. It essentially invented what is now called the “armchair treasure hunt,” a genre where readers try to solve elaborate puzzles from home using only what is hidden in a book. Even today, Masquerade is admired not just as a clever game but as a work of art, full of intricate, symbolic paintings that reward close attention.

Kit Williams, the creator of Masquerade, was born in 1946 in Kent, England. Trained as an artist, he wrote and illustrated the book entirely on his own, combining traditional painting techniques with a love of riddles, myths, and visual storytelling. After the success of Masquerade, he went on to design elaborate mechanical clocks for public buildings and continued working as a fine artist, producing detailed figurative paintings in oils. His reputation rests largely on how he merged art, story, and puzzle into a single experience, turning a picture book into one of the most famous real-world treasure hunts in history.

Forgotten Ruins of Heimschule Nickenich

Nestled in the rolling hills of the Eifel region, not far from the tranquil waters of Laacher See, the ruins of Heimschule Nickenich stand as a silent testament to a history both rich and turbulent. What was once a thriving Catholic boarding school has now become a hauntingly beautiful lost place, drawing hikers, explorers, and history enthusiasts alike.

The story of the Heimschule began in 1927, when it was founded as a Catholic educational institution, meant to guide students from their earliest secondary years all the way to their Abitur, the prestigious German high school diploma. By Easter of 1928, the school welcomed its first class, known as the Sexta, and over the following years, it expanded, embracing a rigorous academic curriculum alongside practical education. Students engaged in gardening, fieldwork, and hands-on workshops, fostering both intellectual and physical growth.

But history had other plans. The school’s vision of a full-fledged educational institution was short-lived. The economic struggles of the Great Depression made expansion difficult, and when the National Socialist regime took power in 1933, financial support for denominational schools dried up. By 1934 or 1935, the Heimschule was forced to close its doors, its grand educational ambitions unfulfilled.

Its closure, however, did not mark the end of its use. Under the Nazi regime, the building was repurposed, first as a home for girls completing their mandatory Landjahr, a rural service year aimed at instilling a strong work ethic and nationalistic ideals. Later, during the chaos of World War II, the site took on a far more ominous role. In 1944, a V1 military unit, Regiment 152 Wachtel, moved in. The surrounding forests became a launch preparation area for the infamous V1 rockets, the so-called "revenge weapons" deployed by the Nazis in their desperate attempts to turn the tide of the war.

Today, the Heimschule is nothing more than a skeletal relic of its past, perched on a plateau at the crossroads of Landesstraße 116 and Kreisstraße 57. Time and nature have reclaimed what once was a place of discipline and learning. Trees push their roots through cracked floors, vines creep up crumbling walls, and the wind whistles through shattered windows. It is both eerie and beautiful, a place that feels frozen in time.

Despite its decay, the ruins have not been forgotten. They sit along the scenic Traumpfad Pellenzer Seepfad, a 16-kilometer hiking trail that winds through some of the most breathtaking landscapes in the Eifel. Hikers and photographers alike are drawn to the site, captivated by the way history and nature intertwine so seamlessly.

However, for those who venture close, caution is advised. The building, abandoned for decades, is in a precarious state, with weakened structures and unstable foundations. In recent years, access has reportedly been restricted, and visitors should respect any barriers or warning signs. Still, even from a safe distance, the Heimschule Nickenich offers a glimpse into a past filled with ambition, loss, and transformation.

For those willing to explore, the ruins stand as a reminder of the way history leaves its mark—not only in books but also in the landscape itself. They tell a story of education interrupted, of war’s far-reaching impact, and of how even the most carefully laid plans can be undone by forces beyond our control. In their silent, crumbling state, they invite us to pause, reflect, and imagine the lives that once passed through their halls.

Pizza Physics

I had reservations about writing a pizza blog. I mean, you make a base, you dress it, then you put it in the oven and ta-daaaar. But a degree of Wissenschaft comes into play when things get multi-storey. I make these magnificent architectural creations in three phases: 

1. Make the base and add the tomato sauce with some of the juiciest/ moist ingredients (like pineapple, tomatoes, sweetcorn, prawns, etc). This will warm up the pizza and allow excess water to escape by evaporation so it doesn't lead to an icky puddle leaking out like an old lady's piss pants at the end. If you just plopped everything on all at once, the lower and most central components might not heat up in time whilst the external part of the pizza will be burned. 10-15 minutes should do it, depending on your heat setting and the location of your pizza in the oven.

2. Meanwhile roast the toughest and most fibrous vegetables (like broccoli, peppers, onion, mushrooms etc) and let them break down and get some time to cook in the oven before you add them to your heated base. 20-30 minutes should do it. Additionally, adding roasted vegetables allows thorough cooking, and improves their flavour. 

3. Finally, after heating together the ingredients from step 1 and 2 above (not so they burn, but enough to get them steaming and wilting down) add the final layer of ingredients that usually don't take so long to cook (e.g. pepperoni, salami, feta, mozzarella, cheddar, anchovies, red kidney beans, etc). That way everything should come to fruition at just the right time. And the right place. 

I'm not here to tell you what to put on your pizza, or for how long. It's a goddam democracy and you can do what you like. But I can tell you a judicious amount of pre-cooking is a rewarding endeavour when you are contemplating an ascent to your own personal Eiger of pizza achievement. Good luck and may the Pizza Gods (who were Roman obviously) go with you.