The Well Rounded Woman is not a big fan of things that go bump in the night. Ghosts and goblins make her shudder—so do monsters and maniacs in hockey masks. Yet our timorous traveler does feel affection for witches because they are such a misunderstood lot. For untold centuries, the western world held witches in high esteem. Indeed, the word “witch,” derived from the same linguistic root as “wit” and “wisdom,” reflects the ancient belief that witches were women with special knowledge. The Well Rounded Woman sees a certain logic in that: after all, as mothers, midwives, and homeopathic healers, witches knew much about the mysteries of life and death. Hence, each October, as Halloween approaches, she sets out to celebrate them.
Edinburgh. As the original working women, witches were powerful and until the 14th century, nobody seemed to mind that much. Then the medical schools decided professional men should have a monopoly over people’s bodies and the church decided priests should have a monopoly over people’s souls. So the stakes were raised … literally. Witch hunting soon turned into a lucrative industry and the witch’s icons (their innocuous cats and broomsticks) were translated into symbols of terror.
During the next 400 years, over 4000 witches were burnt in Scotland alone—and the Well Rounded Woman can pay homage to them without veering from Edinburgh’s well-beaten tourist path. Princess Street Gardens, for instance, haven’t always been so inviting. Before being filled in, the park was actually a loch where accused women underwent a “trial by water.” Those who sank, for whatever good it did them, were declared innocent. Those who floated were promptly carted up to Edinburgh Castle: a popular hotspot for public burnings. Now the execution site is marked by a fountain dubbed the Witches’ Well. Nearby, on the Royal Mile, our charming pilgrim can descend underground with Auld Reekie Tours to view a pagan temple or toast the poor souls (hmm, poor choice of words) at The Witchery, a sumptuous restaurant-cum-inn housed in a 16th-century building.
Salem. Stateside, no locale is more clearly associated with “that old black magic” than Salem, the site of the infamous witchcraft trails, sixteen miles northeast of Boston. In 1692, over-active teenage imaginations coupled with over-zealous adult piety to create a mass hysteria that resulted in the execution of twenty locals. Today, instead of shying away from its dubious past, the town embraces it—particularly during the Halloween season. Many attractions, though, are more kitschy than witchy. (Bear in mind that this place even boasts a 3000-pound bronze statue of Bewitched’s Samantha Stephens!) So the Well Rounded Woman feels obliged to plot her route with care. She typically makes her first stop at the Salem Witch Museum: a venue that, despite some melodramatic flourishes, manages to offer a historically accurate overview of events. (As added bonuses, the museum features an exhibit on society’s evolving perceptions of witches, and its Web site has a click-on map for anyone interested in making a self-guided tour of the area’s witch-related sites.) Afterwards, she carries on to the Witch Dungeon Museum, where actors recreate trial scenes, and the Peabody Essex Museum, which houses original court documents, before ending her day at the somber Witch Trials Memorial. Positioned behind the Old Burying Point (Salem’s oldest cemetery) its simple stone blocks invite quiet reflection.
Disney Theme Parks. Given that the Well Rounded Woman is a high-minded student of women’s history, the prospect of her going to Walt Disney World or Disneyland may seem a bit, well, goofy. But our game dame is never adverse to some old-fashioned fun. Besides, she knows these venues have surprising hex appeal. Perhaps because he was a magical sort of fellow himself, Walt had a special way with witches. Some he made a force to be reckoned with: take that spell-casting queen from Snow White. Masquerading as both a hottie and hag, she clearly stole the show from the milquetoast title character.
