A rest day, Franglaisdeutsch and the song of the Rhine.

So we are here in Geisenheim, having at last found a campsite that we are happy to linger at. Rather disappointing previous two campsites - the first being run by Frau Trunchbull, a character whose presence suggested rather strongly that she was not going to be argued with, who insisted that despite acres of fresh grass we set up camp by a muddy patch previously vacated by a tent that had been there sometime, and the second a rather pricey 25 Euro place occupied by large family groups that again despite other areas we had to pitch up by.

This is a campsite right by the Rhine, and we have a prime people and boat watching spot. The Rhine is far more of a transport hub than you would first think. Massive barges carrying containers plod slowly up against the fierce current towards Basel, then lush gin palace cruise barges rush past down current, with their giant panoramic windows shielding their inhabitants from reality. Some of the smaller barges always with the owners car sat on the stern have a delightful “thunkathunkathunaka” noise that happily serves as a lullaby at night.

We are also directly by the E15 cycle route that we are following. Electric bicycles are in abundance around here, and I think I might already have mentioned the slight frustration when you have puffed and panted your way 60Km or so with full load only to be overtaken by a bolt upright cyclist on one of these bikes. I’m afraid I’ve had some unchristian wishes that I had some device that would instantly flatten their batteries.

I am particularly glad that we cycled this route and didn't drive.
Quite why cars spontaneously explode here is not entirely clear

The busier paths here have a lot of walkers as well, as well as the cyclists bete noire - the dog. There is a lot of communication between me and Sian when a dog is seen - is it on a lead, is the owner aware of our approach? Around here, and I don’t know if it’s the result of a bylaw, but some of the leads are massive - think the coiled loops of a mooring rope in terms of length at least. All you really want to see is an aware owner, who hopefully grabs the dog and holds it safely as you pass gently by.

My French is OK, but my German is generally just words only. Quite a few of the close to the border places will speak either, and I have had a few peculiar conversations where I jump from French to German to fill in words I don’t know. One example was being asked did I want a printed version of the bill - I didn’t know the French word for this, but did know the German word (rechnung), so the lady just switched to German and I understood.

The other danger of language is context. You know that in a restaurant one of the first things a waiter will ask is whether you want drinks, so despite not necessarily understanding what you were asked you can confidently say “Eine Coca Cola” or whatever, and seem quite impressive.

However, this can lead to problems. I know also that in a bakery you will get asked the equivalent of “are you taking this away?”, to which I will very confidently say “Nein, danke” and expect to have my cake on a plate. This, of course, goes wrong when she asks “are you eating this here?”, in which case my confident “Nein” gets unexpected results. Frau Trunchbull mentioned previously must have thought me bonkers as I unfortunately mistook her questions about showers and rubbish bins as chatty questions about our journey. So the conversation to her must have gone a bit like this.

“Would you like to buy some tokens for the showers?” she asked, to which I replied “ Quite far. We have come all the way from Switzerland”. Undaunted, she then told me “ The rubbish must be put in the bins by the entrance” . “Yes”, I replied,”It does look like rain today”.