Farmers Have Turned Caves Into Wild Homes That Need To Be Seen

One could easily mistake Germany for a real-life fairy tale. It was the homeland of the Brothers Grimm, collectors of stories such as "Snow White" and "Cinderella." Towering castles, continuously repaired over the years, dot the landscape. But, for a long time, the same care did not extend to the homes of families who lived in Langenstein, though they represent an essential chapter in the country's history.

It's easy to miss the facades of the homes jutting out from the caverns. In 1910, the last resident that resided in these strange and unique homes passed away. With that, the line of cave dwellers ended. Descendants were not allowed ownership of the property and the caves were turned over, becoming the property of the local municipality. But how did these caves ever become homes in the first place?

As you might guess, the families that lived in these rock-walled dwellings were not rich. Far from it. They were farmhands, used to doing lots of work with very little pay. But even in the toughest circumstances, these people found ways to survive.

It all began in 1855 when industrialization had turned Germany into the largest economy in all of Europe. It was not all great and prosperous times for everyone. Rural, low-income residents were filled with uncertainty. Unemployment and land seizures made things even worse for them, especially those who had children.

In search of some stability, they migrated to new regions. Often bringing their entire families in tow, workers sought out any opportunity and refuge they could find. Several discovered that in the village of Langenstein. But their homes were not going to be what they might have expected.

During the mid-19th century, the Rimpau family owned the land surrounding Langenstein. Across the vast property, there was plenty of work to be found for the migrants. The Rimpaus needed long-term laborers, after all, but they faced a problem. With such limited housing, where would they have their workers live?

The idea of turning caves into living spaces was not exactly an odd decision. Within the nearby mountaintops were even earlier forms of cave dwellings, dating back to the 1700s. When the migrant workers arrived, the local council decided the rock ridges along the town outskirts would be ideal. The ridges were numbered according to a lottery system.

A few lucky laborers won sections of the rock wall, which were divvied up into ten sections. If chosen, they had to fork over a month's salary in exchange for the right to live in that area for the rest of their lives. But that wasn't the end of the deal. Sure, they had a spot to live, but the cave homes had not been built yet. Their hard life was about to become even harder.

Nearly all day, the laborers worked in the field. By evening, more back-breaking work was in store as they carved out their houses. If they were lucky, families could get their cave hollowed out within a year and a half. Weak, makeshift roofs were used in the beginning stages by the entrance of the caves. The final products were evident of plenty of blood, sweat, and tears.

By the time the cave dwellers had finally finished, the rocky ridges were replaced with something out of a fairy tale. Chimneys jutted out of moss-covered sandstone. Tiled-roofs withdrew outwards as if a traditional house was emerging from the very rocks. The interiors were even more breathtaking.

The average cave dwelling would be about 323 square feet — enough space to hold the most basic of furniture without overindulging. Tallow lamps would have been the only source of artificial light within. The wax, made up of select oils or animal fat, was stored in a teapot-like device. A wick would be slipped into the spout and then lit. When the weather turned bad, the cave dwellers had some luck in staying safe.

Rain could have been a major problem to the cave dwellers of Langenstein, especially if the water pooled inside their homes. Luckily, the caves were made of very porous sandstone. When a rainstorm hit, the water would be absorbed into the rocks. That sandstone also acted as natural insulation during the winter months.

Due to the south-facing direction the caves were in, sunlight played a part in warming up the homes. But it couldn't be the only source of warmth for the families. Chimneys helped out then. It was not close to the kitchen but built elsewhere to fully fill the homes with the heat from cooking. The families also had to become creative in their home appliances.

With the limited monthly salary the laborers owned, they couldn't purchase home supplies so easily. Many turned to making whatever they needed out of wood, whether it was a mixer or a shoehorn. For coffee, they managed to brew their own by roasting barley. Meanwhile, there were concerns about grass and nature that grew on top of the roofs, but another form of innovation prevented any damage.

If left alone, the plants along the top of the cave dwellings would have caused a collapse in the structure. Rain water was caught in the sandstone pores but the exterior needed some extra help. So, the workers brought in goats to graze away at the vegetation. Years after their construction, a new problem faced the caves.

Though the homes were carefully maintained, once the last of these cave dwellers died, no one seemed to care what would happen to them. For many years, the caves that hard-working families poured their hearts and souls into became nothing more than storage cellars. If thousands of castles across Germany were protected for historical recognition, what about the caves? Everything changed at the end of the 20th century.

In the 1990s, one cave was completely filled in with concrete to provide a foundation for a house erected overhead, erasing it from existence. Another faced the same treatment. Ten dedicated residents from the area understood what could be gained from these old, subterranean dwellings. With several more caves set to become landfills, the passionate individuals went to work.

It took until 2010 to register Langensteiner Höhlenwohnungen, an organization focused on preserving the cave dwellings. Local residents have taken on the duties to protect them too. They've also discovered a broader base of support thanks to social media platforms.

Now, international visitors pour in every year to admire the marks of endless chipping and chiseling found along the walls. Increased funding goes a long way to preserve these historical dwellings for future generations. Langenstein has never been more relevant, especially since it inspired some modern underground communities.

In fact, one such Australian settlement is thriving deep beneath the Earth's surface. Being neighbors with worms and surviving off artificial light sounds like the newest form of torture, but for the people of Coober Pedy, these are the makings of their beautiful home.

This small Australian village is known for its abundance of opals, a beautiful (not to mention quite valuable) iridescent gemstone said to signify love and passion. Coober Pedy is so chocked full of them it's even been dubbed the "Opal Capital of the World."

In a land lush with precious stones, the Aboriginal people lived off native crops, built thriving communities, and, quite notably, were not living underground. The 20th century brought changes.

The town’s name wasn’t even officially established until the first outsiders arrived. It was only when Willie Hutchinson first discovered an opal there that other miners began moving to the area in droves.

After that, the floodgates opened. By 1916, foreign miners were flocking to the area, hoping to get their hands on some money-making stones. And pretty soon, these outsiders started to get some pretty sick ideas in their heads.

The European venturists, unused to the harsh conditions (read: constant heat) of the village, soon realized that if they wanted to make their opal money, they'd need to find a way to survive in the town without dying of a heat stroke. That’s when they hatched their plan.

First, as colonizers often do, they had to give the area a name they could actually pronounce. They settled on Coober Pedy, after the aboriginal term kupa-piti, which roughly translates to "boy's waterhole." There was a second name the miners didn't like so much.

A local joke is that Coober Pedy sounds similar to white man in a hole. Because what did these settlers do when they realized their fragile temperaments couldn't take the heat? They dug underground tunnels, of course. But this was only the beginning.

After several miners began this undertaking, scores of others followed suit. Over the course of a few years, more and more "buildings" were constructed underground, until there was more infrastructure hidden below the surface than was visible from on land.

So far, there are an astounding three churches, an art gallery, a bar, and even hotels hiding below the surface of what from atop may look to outsiders simply like a desert wasteland. And it’s not just single men who live there, either. ..

Here, people spend days and nights in subterranean rooms. Really, the space is a home like any other, if it weren't for the rock walls. Outside their underground dwellings, the town offered plenty to do.

Even people who live their lives underground have to find creative ways to have fun, and the residents of Coober Pedy have come up with a particularly interesting pastime...

Of course, it's too hot during the day to do much outside (hence the caves) and so most extracurriculars take place under the shade of night. This includes golf, but with a special twist: all the balls glow in the dark.

As you may imagine, the extreme temperatures aren’t very conducive to plant life, so they’ve also had to find out-of-the-box ways to add some greenery to things. Honestly, their resourcefulness is impressive.

Instead of your typical shrubbery, the people who live in this village have constructed a tree made entirely out of metal. It's quite the sight. Even so, while they’ve done their best to make the area their home, there are still some serious dangers to watch out for.

All around the area are scores of random holes dug into the ground by would-be prospectors hoping to get their hands on a valuable opal. These can be serious tripping hazards for those who visit — especially if you plan on partaking in a friendly game of glow-in-the-dark golf.

The village does its best to appeal to visitors, if only as a fun attraction to see once in a lifetime. There are even opals engraved into the walls of hotel rooms, highlighting the fact that the town offers the majority of the planet’s supply.

Other oddities to check out if you ever step foot in Coober Pedy include Crocodile Harry’s Underground Nest, or the Coober Pedy Drive-In. Sounds cool right? But it’s not so easy to make the trip...

There are several options if you want to make your way to the Australian town. You can either fly into a small airstrip, go via bus on a coach tour, drive in a private car, or, finally, by the Ghan railway line.

Because of its bizarre, pseudo-dystopian nature, it’s no wonder that Coober Pedy is a Hollywood location scouts dream. The town has been featured in multiple blockbusters including "Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome," "Pitch Black," and "Red Planet."

Most Cooper Pedy tourists are surprised to learn about another large dwelling that's completely underground, though this one can't be found in Australia. It was carved out beneath a crowded city, thanks to the work of one eccentric individual.