Montagne des Singes, Saturday October 11

Today’s big outing was to Kintzheim, in the foothills of Les Vosges a bit north of here, to visit the Montagne des Singes (Monkey Mountain). But first we walked around Bergheim a bit so that Sue Anne could capture more of the sights in her sketchbook.

The quest started with a few more doorways and the accompanying inscriptions that indicate the year of construction and/or the name and occupation of the occupant.

 This doorway was magnificent, though it’s pretty apparent that they don’t use it any more. 

Notice the size of the flower display on a sidewalk railing. There are probably about 50 of those around town. Bergheim is a Ville Fleurie, officially.

Bruce assumed a comfortable position on a nearby bench, carefully sitting a few feet away from the resident cat who on previous walks through the area had shown himself to be rather skittish and self-protective. Not so this time! Without even being coaxed he awoke, walked a few steps, and installed himself in Bruce’s lap.

The two of them then watched the art scene as it progressed.

This and another stop nearby added these two inscriptions to the collection. HH of 1554, probably engaged in some aspect of the winemaking trade, and HS of 1747, a baker.

Sue Anne then shifted her attention up toward the nearby city gate, while Bruce and M. Le Chat remained ensconced on the bench. Interesting sights unfolded in front of them.

 First a woman arrived on a special (custom made?) bike with a child seated in his own compartment in the front, also carrying her bag of groceries including the mandatory daily loaf of bread.

Then came Mme La Facteuse (mail carrier) on her official yellow PTT bike. Time for a good chat.

 Here is the Bergheim Town Gate, built in 1300, as seen from inside the town. The roof is a fancy pattern of green, red, and brown ceramic glazed tiles. It is very close to Bruce and the cat. We have driven through it many times.

 

Next to the gate on the side facing out from town is this bas-relief, the symbol of the town. No kidding. It is called Lack Mi, although that name doesn’t seem French to us. The figure is a successful asylum seeker, thumbing his nose and mooning his pursuers as he races through the town gate. Once inside, the person could start again with his debts forgiven and petty crimes absolved.

 Bergheim was a kind of independent town that was given rights by the Hapsbourgs (we think) to make laws, have a market, coin money, and accept les asiles—the asylum seekers. Descriptions of all this got heavy coverage in the local museum that we visited. It was a big thing. The asylum seekers, while having committed petty crimes, were deemed sufficiently trustworthy to remain and become a needed part of the local workforce.

Here’s the 714 year old linden tree in the little park just outside the gate. Its age is known precisely because it was ceremonially planted to mark a special date in the founding of the town.

Then we got into the car and headed off to visit the monkeys of Kintzheim, Les Singes. The place is clearly a big tourist attraction. There were lots of people there, cars in the lot from France, Germany, and Switzerland, signs in two (and occasionally three) languages, and a gift shop. But it is indeed a serious facility, engaged in multiple research projects with international university partners, and dedicated to helping protect and restore the indigenous monkey population in their native Morocco. To date they have sent back about 600 of their offspring to help maintain that population.

The facility is a fenced enclosure of many acres, with a circular pathway offering plenty of opportunities to observe the monkeys in action and offer them (legal) popcorn treats, which they eagerly accept. The signs point out that the popcorn is just a snack, and that the park does provide them with a complete and well balanced diet.

The French word for popcorn is popcorn.

On the way in you are likely to be greeted by some of the inhabitants sitting along the fence hoping for a taste of the popcorn they know you to be carrying. One piece at a time is the rule. Some take it and appear thankful, others sniff it first to be sure it’s OK, and others just grab, eat, and look for the next visitor.

 Next came the interpretive area, where the woman in the yellow vest is giving a talk in French and then in German. Sue Anne could get most of the French words if she stood in the right place. Most people here are bilingual, but that doesn’t include English. It can be tricky.

Behind the guide it was feeding time. The monkeys also find their own food in the form of bugs and grubs that they scavenge from under rocks.

Here is what appears to be a typical family scene of mutual preening plus feeding the baby. But we did learn that monkeys are indeed very communal in their habits, so the guy on the right might or might not be the biological father of the little fellow. That doesn’t seem to matter in their devotion to each other and to the colony.

Now a few videos of them in action

There’s lots going on in this scene.

The one who catches the flea gets to eat it!

Now it’s my turn!

The artist’s impression of a day at Monkey Mountain

And then the ride home, with a quick detour to the hypermarket in Ribeauvillé to stock up on food. It maintains the most convenient opening hours in the area. But, as we have learned, never on Sunday.

And finally an opportunity to grab a quick parking spot and get a shot of this stork nest in its officially provided location atop this tower on the way in to the town.

 Speaking of food, here is a painting of some delicious grapes, bought from a courtyard on our street. The neighbor was also selling apples and walnuts.