Every summer, three times a year, a very special event takes place in Heidelberg. The people of Heidelberg “burn” their castle. Or rather, what is left of it. Our daughter corrected my suggestion to go see the castle illumination with the words: “But Daddy, that’s not a castle illumination. At best, it’s a ruin illumination.”

Well then, dear Heidelbergers, we once again resolved to visit you this year during your ruin spectacle.

Upon arriving in Heidelberg, our first task was to find a dry shelter for our 117!! horses. As suspected, we succeeded in one of the stables beneath the pedestrian zone. Naturally, it’s not cheap to dig a four-story-deep hole and equip it with the necessary comforts for fossil-fuel-powered creatures. Having escaped, regulation-compliant, from the foul-smelling maw leading underground, we set out to soak in the atmosphere of the old town.

It was shortly before eight in the evening when the last shopkeepers closed their doors for the night and we noticed a small tavern from which cheerful musicians played their tunes for foreign guests.

After indulging in delicious salads and sweet dishes, the house specialties, we strolled slowly and contentedly toward the Philosopher’s Walk. Always climbing uphill, it rewards the attentive observer with the best possible view of the spectacle.

Only a few people ahead of us dared to tackle the steep stairs, so contrary to all expectations, we managed to secure a cozy spot with an excellent view. We still had an hour to bridge. But Heidelberg’s panorama is so rich and varied that even our child never tired of pointing out how beautiful the view was.

Once dusk had set in and the boats had positioned themselves on the Neckar, the second castle illumination of the year began with a loud bang, presumably meant to simulate the cause of the fire. For those of us at our viewpoint, it also meant finally falling silent and directing our attention toward the castle.

Red spotlights began casting flames onto the castle walls, convincing enough to suggest a real fire to a short-sighted observer standing at a distance. As the flames appeared to climb higher and higher up the structure and into the dark night, we enjoyed the strangely comforting atmosphere they created. One could almost feel the heat on one’s skin, the images of the blaze appearing so vividly before our eyes.

Have you ever sat by a campfire, staring into the flames, with the feeling that your face is burning? That’s how it felt. Except there was no real fire.

When the final flare-up and glowing embers appeared on the “ruin,” we needed something to bring us back to reality.

The Heidelberg pyrotechnicians must have known this, because they unleashed another thunderous blast into the rock walls of the Neckar valley, which echoed back in multiple deafening crashes. What followed was a firework display of indescribable fascination. I was amazed by the ease and richness of color with which the pyrotechnicians blasted their way straight into the hearts of the spectators.

The highlight was undoubtedly the rain of fire from the pylons of the Old Bridge, probably shown more out of tradition, but perfectly integrated into the explosion of colors.

After twenty minutes, the spectacle ended with one final thunderous shot. It took a few minutes for our daze to lift and for us to be able to speak again. The dreamy, satisfied, and tired “That was beautiful!” from our daughter perfectly summed up how we felt.

Trying to describe this fireworks experience with words would be like attempting to describe all the flavors of Indian cuisine. You simply can’t grasp it without tasting it yourself.

So our tip is this: treat yourself to a pinch of “ruin illumination” in Heidelberg. It will do you good.