[ < < previous | index | next >> ]
The day has dawned grey and wet. Luckily much of our plans for the day involve being indoors - first at the Köln Chocolate Museum, and then exploring the inner depths of the almighty Kölner Dom.
We have seen the most amazing holy shrine of worship in existence. Flocks of people came from far and wide to share the majesty of one of the most powerful and moving forces in the world. This magical place calls to all and none who hearken to its drawing power go away disappointed. I refer, of course, to the Köln Chocolate Museum. Sponsored by Lindt, the three-storey mecca to chocolate lovers sits on a small island in the Rhine, reached over a short bridge from one end of the riverside promenade. It would have been a very nice walk, but the drizzle and chill made it merely somewhat pleasant. On the way we passed the church of Groß St Martin, a handsome multi-spired brick structure that jutted appealingly from behind a row of coloured buildings near the river.
At the Chocolate Museum we checked our bags and cloaks and brollies, and I checked with the lady there about the meaning of the sign that I could see referred to photography, but I couldn't read enough of it to tell if photography was allowed or forbidden. She said in a friendly tone that personal photos were okay, but that permission was needed for commercial photography, so I grabbed my camera before checking in my gear bag.
The ground floor displays gave a natural history of the cocoa plant, how the beans grow and are harvested and so on, and had several exhibits showing
beans and fruit, as well as harvesting and transport tools, including a large wooden canoe and lots of photographs of the trees and fruit growing and
being harvested. Out a double glass door, through a temperature/humidity lock, was a tropical greenhouse containing a selection of plants from the cocoa
tree's native environments. The cocoa tree in there was just producing tiny new flowers and had no fruit unfortunately, but it did show the intriguing
thing I'd learned already - that cocoa fruit grows directly out of the trunk of the tree, not at the ends of - or even along - the branches. Also, the fruits
have to be carefully cut off the tree by hand to avoid damaging the site on the trunk where the next season's flowers and fruit will grow.
Further along, the ground floor passed into a circular section walled with glass from the elements outside. Inside, it contained various chocolate processing and making machines - many of them actively working. The most popular was a moulding machine which was squirting molten chocolate into small Lindt moulds, shaking them to remove air bubbles, cooling them in a large chamber, then tipping them out on to a conveyor belt where a suction arm robot would pick them all up (except sometimes one or two of them) and transfer them to another belt that rearranged them into a rapid fire single file stream to get to the wrapping machine, which individually wrapped them in gold-foil-lined paper and sent them off to be bagged. Hordes of children watched each step with eager anticipation. A lady in a white factory uniform with "Lindt" embroidered on the back in gold sat inside the fishbowl-like display area, surrounded by perspex walls, and manually weighed and adjusted each bag of chocolates and sent them off to be sealed and packed.
Other machines on display showed vats of molten chocolate being mixed. Another popular spot was the chocolate fountain, where a Lindt lady dipped handfuls of
wafers in to get them coated on one end with the warm liquid delight, then handed them out to eager queues of kids, and the few grown-ups present who could
mix it with the kids. Naturally, we wanted to have our rightful share of warm, liquid chocolate too, so we joined the queue behind what must have been a
school group of 30 or so kids, about 8 years old. As soon as we joined the queue, another group entered and 30 more kids about the same age lined up
behind us, leaving us the only adults, smack in the middle of a yammering bunch of 60+ kids. But it was worth it, as we were handed our wafers which had been
ceremoniously dunked in the rich, sweet fluid from the fountain.
We have just returned again from another attempt at night photography. The weather was significantly better tonight, but not perfect by any means. And as I write the rain outside is getting heavier and producing a melodious pattering that promises to help send us to sleep soon.
But at the Chocolate Museum, we moved up from the ground to the first floor, which gave an eagle's eye view of the chocolate making downstairs, plus some new areas where a Lindt worker was filling moulds with molten chocolate from a small fountain, while another was creating personalised chocolate hearts by sorting out chocolate letters and pasting them on to large chocolate hearts of a different colour. Another woman was taking orders for the personalised hearts. Further inside, away from the glass room, were more displays and exhibits, this time on the chocolate making process, including the fermenting and drying of the cocoa beans, grading, grinding, conversion into cocoa paste, which is then pressed to extract cocoa butter and leave behind cocoa cakes, from which cocoa powder is eventually made. The various machines for these processes were all on display, as were the results of the steps in the processing.
Also on this floor were examples of several varieties of Lindt chocolate, displayed with watchglasses containing the various raw ingredients: sugar, cocoa mass, cocoa powder, milk powder, vanilla, etc. Then there were historical displays showing cocoa and chocolate packaging through the ages, from steel cocoa tins to modern Easter bunnies. One display showed the mathematical transformation needed to map a flat sheet of foil on to the wrapped shape of a chocolate Christmas figure, with gridlines and then with the actual artwork of the figure. Another showed the evolution of chocolate Easter bunnies. Then there were two complete mock-ups of old time chocolate shops, populated with shelves and displays full of colourful cocoa tins and chocolate bar wrappers from throught the ages.
Having worked our way through two-thirds of the floors, we dashed out for a quick toilet break before continuing, flashing our receipt at the woman at the
cashier's desk before re-entering the museum and proceeding up to the final floor. Here we found a surprising and very well presented display of ancient
Olmec and Aztec artefacts dating from as far back as 1200 AD. Informational signs in German and English explained the origins of chocolate in the drink
the Olmecs first prepared from the beans of the cocoa fruit. Some of the artefacts were merely sculptures or vessels, but some related directly to the
chocolate story, being preparation and serving tools for chocolate.
From there, the narrative moved to the European discovery of chocolate in the 16th century, and the first tools used in Europe for serving hot drinking chocolate from that time. The displays pointed out the fact that the three hot drinks of tea, coffee, and chocolate all reached Europe at about the same time, and up to that point, Europeans had only ever had cold drinks, so they weren't quite sure how to deal with hot ones. The cups of the time had no handles and couldn't be held with a hot drink in them, so at first they were served in flat saucers so that they cooled quickly. But eventually someone invented handled cups and people could start enjoying chocolate in public serving places - the very first "chocolate bars". Engravings and pictures of such chocolate bars from Industrial Revolution times showed upper class people in the costumed finery of the era enjoying hot chocolate in what otherwise looked like a pub.
Following this were silver and fine porcelain ware produced from then through to the Victorian era for the private serving of chocolate: specialised hot chocolate preparation pots, drinking cups and serving trays - there were dozens of them of various designs and intricacies. A famous painting of a serving girl presenting a tray of hot chocolate was reproduced along with a life sized wax model of the girl from the painting, dressed in a black maid's uniform with white apron. (La Belle Chocalatière) The upper level of the museum ended with an interactive children's area with chocolate themed video games, a small cinema showing chocolate videos, and giant models of Lindt gold bunnies, Lindt balls, and the Milka cow.
Thus sated on the knowledge of chocolate, it was time to browse the shop on the ground floor. It was full of more types and brands of chocolate than I thought possible. Lindt was prominent, but many other brands were also represented, as were a small selection of other sweets such as marshmallows and gummie bears. I was boggled to see a Lindt 99% Cocoa variety - the highest we get at home is the intensely bitter 85% - I can't imagine what 99% is like. We picked up just a few Lindt balls and some other small individual pieces from the fill-a-bag section - just enough to do us for a few days. Thus supplied for the future, we decided to check the cafe and stop for drinks and a cake.
I scouted the cakes and spotted the most interesting and delicious looking
chocolate cake, called a dreikönigstorte. Deciding to try that, I noticed that it was in a separate category by itself before all the other cakes
on the menu, labelled "Purer luxus", and cost over €1 more per slice than any other cake. Undaunted, I ordered it and some mineral water,
while Michelle ordered a cappuccino. The cake was impressive when it arrived: three layers of chocolate mud-like cake, separated by a dense chocolate
cream, all dusted with a thick layer of cocoa powder, and finished with tiny flecks of bright purple glitter - edible coloured silver, one presumes.
It looked almost too good to eat. But eat it, I did - it was very rich and very filling. Being 12:30 by now, it basically filled me up, serving as my
entire lunch. Jenny would have been proud to see I'd adapted to the German way of having lunch.
We left the Chocolate Museum and walked back towards the Dom in a welcome respite from the rain. The Rhine was grey and gloomy, but still scenic to walk along. We turned inland towards the Rathaus, which is actually a very modern office-type structure here in Cologne. The historic aspect is restricted to a mostly unimpressive facade along the west side. But below the Rathaus is a most amazing piece of history - the Praetorium, an original Roman building. You can access it via an entrance a block away that leads downstairs to a cashier and cloakroom.
Paying €2.50 gets you into a
display area with dozens of Roman artefacts recovered from the immediate area, as well as maps and architectural drawings showing Cologne as it was as
a Roman settlement almost 2000 years ago. From this room a tunnel leads about 20 metres to the Cloaca Maxima - an original Roman water tunnel
running under modern Cologne for at least the 100 metres or so that we walked along. It was an arched tunnel comfortably wide enough for one person
and with a roof height that forced me to be careful with my head for a short section in the middle, but otherwise allowed walking upright. Near the
beginning a modern concrete series of steps led up and over what I guessed is some obstruction or modern installation running across the Cloaca.
But after that you can walk through it undisturbed on the Roman flagstones for about 100 metres. A sign at the entrance warned claustrophobes against
entering and one could see how they might have problems, but we were fine with it.
Returning to the display room, we used the second exit, which led to a circuit around the underground excavation of the remains of a large Roman building. A walkway overlooked the Roman stone walls and a dirt floor between them, while overheard loomed the concrete slab foundation of the Rathaus above. It was all lit dimly by coloured lights, which gave an interesting effect. Overall quite awesome and definitely worth the visit.
[ < < previous | index | next >> ]