On the train to Ulm (from whence we connect to Basel, then Lorrach) we chose seats that had a table, since our tickets had no assigned seats, when two young men came on and realised we were sitting in their seats! They were very kind about it, and we just moved in so that they could have the two aisle seats while we occupied the window seats. They introduced themselves – Jay from Durham and Deniz from Cyprus, both studying in Hull and, like us, doing a circular adventure around Europe, but whereas we begun in Barcelona, that was their end point.
They were on a 6 hour train ride to Paris, where they’d get another 6 hour train to Barcelona. When we introduced ourselves, Jay immediately said, ‘Well you’re definitely from England.’ Which gave me a funny feeling of pride, confusion and doubt, since on this trip we’ve been asked where we’re from, and very often been told we seem like we’re this or that (one guy in Naples insisted that we were Australian, looking at us with distrust when we kept saying neither of us is)
We talked about our travels, they about theirs, and since you already have mine in writing I will tell you about their adventures now. In Amsterdam they were approached by multiple drug dealers, including one holding a heap of white powder in his bare hand, who shoved it into their faces and asked ‘Cocaine?’ When they refused, he promptly dropped the powder on the ground and walked away, which made it highly unlikely that it really was cocaine. They told us about Berlin, where they spent 4 days but wish they’d spent more. In Prague they’d met another traveller who told them the chilling story of how two drunk guys had entered a mix dorm and stared menacingly at a sleeping girl, shook her bed, and then left – coming back later to stare again, even though the storyteller, fearing for her safety, had sat on her bed and kept a watch for her. Both Jay and Deniz loved Munich as much as we do. The Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam was a favourite (when I heard that a shiver of excitement passed through me – just a few more days!!!)
Out of the two of them, Jay was more talkative, and both of them tease each other and always return to a running joke about them having a relationship (which one of them or the other then hastily assures us is just a joke). Jay plays the drums, guitar, bass and produces his own music. Deniz is afraid of heights as a result of almost slipping off a tall building in Istanbul when he was just 7.
During our conversation, Nat and I had to move seats again because someone else had reserved one of the seats we were in. We got talking to him, and his name is Achim, born and bred in Munich but a seasoned traveller. He told us about hitch hiking on ships (including an oil tanker!) and being in a lift in Liverpool with 3 girls and a 2 metre inflatable penis, which made him highly uncomfortable. He now has a podcast show on the Bavarian Radio, where he has 1 hour to listen to and talk about the life stories of comedians, musicians and other artists and celebrities.
We were travelling at 219 km/h, and talking almost as quickly, and were so sad to leave them at Basel. (‘Come with us to Paris!’ they said)
On our train to Basel, we passed Lake Constance, where the train tilted so heavily that you couldn’t see any land between train and lake.
Auntie Petra and Reshem met us at the Lorrach Hbf, and we caught up on each others lives as we drove back to their home. They had lunch ready, and I couldn’t help thinking how wonderful it was to just sit down at a table with people as close as family, and have food prepared for you. Simren talks about politics and Venezuela with the passion and intensity she has always possessed. She’s finished in the Hague and will start her Master in Paris in August. Reshem has also just graduated, and doesn’t know what he wants to study yet, but for now he’s preparing for a 6 month backpacking trip through South East Asia. Auntie Petra told us about the time she entered the Indonesian jungle, and met tribes who had never before seen a white person. This world is so big and I am ever realising that it is foolish and tragic not to set out and explore it.
After lunch, we drove to Colmar, a small fairy tale town in France. It’s pretty, with shutters with hearts on them and, paintings, scultpures and drawings of storks everywhere. Storks are Colamr’s symbol, and we later found out from Nat’s Dad that storks are considered good luck, because legend has it that lightning never strikes a stork’s nest.
I asked Reshem what he’d be doing before coming over to South East Asia, and he replied ‘I’ve got to meet the people’, meaning his friends, but I laughed and told him he sounded so much like a politician. He replied ‘Yeah you know – take some photos, kiss some babies.’
We had a drink in a café, and while we sat there, France won their Euro game, and the place erupted with noise. The French celebrate football winnings with what Auntie Petra called an ‘Auto Corso’, where the triumphant people piled into their cars, some painted, some holding flags, and drove through the streets of Colmar furiously beeping their horns. Vive la France!
Before dinner I received the frightening news that Grandma had been sent to hospital for ascites – a build-up of fluid in her abdomen. That didn’t in itself scare me, since Grandma has been in hospital before, but Mum said she was flying over to be with Grandma, which made it much more serious, which made me feel cold all over. I tried to call the ward on my mobile but couldn’t, and so I just quietened my heart and prayed ‘Please let her know I love her, please let her be okay.’
We had spaghetti for dinner as the mountain ridge behind us turned pink in the sunset, then Auntie Petra drove us to Basel Hbf, and it was a quick fall into sleep.
We woke up a little to early for our transfer at Koblenz, because our train was delayed as a result of a landslide in the valley. We stood for a while looking at the Rhine landscape outside the train window, before I curled back into the carriage bunk and Nat stayed to look at the scenery. There is nothing more soothing, I think, than sleeping in a train.
The platform at Koblenz was cold, and when we got out at Cochem it was still cold, but we had our wraps which we’d saved from the day before, and they tasted extra delicious since we were very hungry. Cochem is a fairy tale town with cobbled roads, wooden beamed pastel houses and shops selling local jams and iced cakes.
Our room was cosy, with flowers on the wall and a little kitchen with a motley crew of pots and pans on the shelves. The bedsheets were yellow, and both of us curled into them and fell asleep, only waking up at ten to twelve! We had muesli for lunch, and then set off in our rain jackets (It was a grey, drizzly day) to the Cochem Hbf, and took a train to Trier.
Trier is no sunnier than Cochem, and we saw the Porta Nigra first, then the beautiful High Cathedral of Saint Peter, the Roman Baths and Colosseum and Karl Marx’s House. You may wonder why I have just mentioned the places without writing properly about them, and the truth is that Nat and I were left tired and a little uninspired by Trier. The Roman architecture was unimpressive after the magnificence of Pompeii and Florence, and the grey weather dampened our spirits, even though as Nat reminded me, the weather should come from our hearts and not from the clouds around us.
But it was not all gloomy in Trier. We found kartoffelbrot, a vegan treat, and a cherry tree. The inside of the High Cathedral of Saint Peter was stunning, the baroque stucco-work in the vault of the west-end choir in blue and white made it one of my favourite cathedrals visited, and we heard a funny thing when an old man, annoyed at a young boy making noises in the prayer room, said ‘Scheiβer!’, which Nat says is the word used to describe ‘a shit situation’!
Another funny thing that was heard that day came from Nat herself! We were talking about the weather, hoping it would turn sunny, and she said ‘You never know what’s around the corner … once I saw a good looking guy around the corner!’
The train ride back to Cochem was tough, and Nat and I, both tired, had a long and needed talk and prayer for peace, healing, love and strength. It is so easy to forget that we are infinitely loved, constant as the stars above.
28 June 2016
The hostel provided breakfast, which included lots and lots of home made jams – we tried their whole selection! I liked currant jam in particular, and Nat liked the grape jam. We borrowed bicycles from a shop near the Hbf, and after a wobbly start (the bikes can’t pedal backwards without activating an inbuilt brake system) we set off for Burg Eltz, helped by the kind directions of a street cleaner.
Or rather, hindered. After a 10 km cycle, we realised that we were going in the wrong direction. It wasn’t a waste though – the Rhine was beautiful in the sunlight, vast and earthy coloured, and the hills around it were covered in vineyards. On that mistaken bike ride we saw life-sized chess pieces, swans, a cherry tree, and purple, pink, white and yellow flowers.
We tried to cut across a mountain path to shorten the path back to Burg Eltz, but we over estimated our biking ability – that mountain was far too tough! A continuous cycle uphill, even on gear one, was such a struggle. I got so warm I had to strip off my batik shirt, leaving just my sports bra! We soon decided that a possible 18 km of mountain path was slightly suicidal, and so we turned around and – blessed relief! – cycled down that steep mountain. The steep ascent meant an equal steep rush down, cold and wonderful. We cycled 10 km back to Cochem, and without stopping set off on the 18 km to Burg Eltz. We had our lunch by the roar of the river, and then hiked through a forest to get to the Burg Eltz castle, which appeared suddenly and sooner than we had expected.
Our guide had a German/New Zealand accent, and told us how the castle had grown from a small house manor in the 9th century, built to control trade, to the large castle it is today under the three branches of the Eltz family, who still own and sometimes reside in it today. The guide brought us through the twisting rooms of the Eltz castle: dining rooms with Flemish tapestries, bed rooms with the bed elevated because heat rises, a room for celebrations and assemblies, children’s’ bedrooms which had toys that children in the past would have played with, and we ended in the kitchen!
As we walked back, we wondered what we’d include in museums of our selves.
My bottom got so sore on the cycle back, and Nat couldn't feel her legs at one point which was quite frightening, but we got back in the end - 60 km, conquered!
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