Through the Rhine of legend , language fun and a bit of romance.....

August the 26th has got us as far as just south of Dusseldorf and a rest day. The journey has been quite magical in places, a tad frustrating in others.

(Sorry about the wonky formatting here. Perhaps my mastery of blogging is not as complete as I thought)

The stuff of legend.

Much of the route from my last post has been through the postcard scenery that always seems to accompany Rhine cruises - steep vineyards, forest clad mountainsides and lots of castles. Sian has been doing her best to keep me abreast of all the legends that go with this area courtesy of the little guide book. However, there are rather a lot of them, and it's best if I just describe them as some sort of legend that fits all. Basically you need to think of brothers feuding over a beautiful fraulein who eventually gets fed up and disappears off to marry someone else, an evil Bishop burning villagers to death and then himself getting gnawed to death by marauding mice. You get the idea.....

Any Scotsperson worth their salt will know about the Waverley 

- one of the last ocean going paddle steamers. So I was quite 

excited by this - the "Goethe", which gave a fantastic blast

on her steam whistle as she came in. Except that the steam 

engines were replaced by diesels 20 years ago. Humph.

The campsites have varied from great to, well, not so great. There appears to be very little link to the price that you pay and the facilities you get. A, shall we say, slightly down moment was arriving in a campsite just south of Koln (or Cologne). At reception as per usual I used my dismal German to ask for a pitch for the night. "I will have to ask ze chef" the young lady replied, and immediately got onto the phone and started to discuss something in high speed German. I leant against the counter and put on my best quizzical look, hoping to catch her eye.

Eventually doing so, I said in English - "No, you don't understand. I don't want to eat here, I want to camp here". "Oh ya, I know, but I still need to speak to ze chef".  I stood there for a few moments wondering why on earth the head cook was involved in this decision making process, until it dawned on me that she actually meant "Chief".

A new discovery in the never ending cyclists 

quest for calorific munchies. The roast chicken 

van, as parked outside most branches of

Lidl or Aldi.

Well, fortunately the Chef did say yes, but we were put on a very small pitch on a corner, as the campsite was rammed. Slightly odd we thought, as none of the campsites were this busy. In the morning there was further oddness. The vast majority of campers were male, between about 20 and 30, slightly goth/nerdish and even more incongruously all up very early at 7 queuing for the showers. I wondered about a festival, but it wasn't until we chatted to some Dutch lads next to us that it became clear what this was all about: Koln apparently hosts one of the biggest computer games meetings in Europe. I need say no more.....

Todays history lesson - the remains of the bridge at Remagen-

one of the few bridges that didn't get destroyed by the 

Germans at the end of WW2. Not that they didn't try, 

even resorting to flinging V2 rockets at it. It did eventually

 collapse after 10 days, but not until the Americans 

had got a fair number of troops across.

There are lots of little ferries crossing the Rhine, and for a
couple of Euros is a great way of criss crossing and having
a little breather on the way.

We visited a huge outdoor shop in Koln, complete with a pool in the basement should we wish to try out our kayak before purchasing. I'm afraid there was just too much shiny stuff in the shop for me to resist, nor indeed for Sian either, and our wallets were a bit lighter on the way out.

Cycle touring is a great way of meeting kindred spirits. At Remagen, we came across a marvellously fit  Dutch gentleman of pensionable age who was quite happily heading towards Provence in his own time, and last night most remarkably a French chap who spoke perfect English. He was doing the same route as us, but accompanied by his 7 year old daughter, whose bike fitted on behind his to make a tandem combination. When they arrived she set to to start erecting the tent - but this was no childish attempt to help, but actually putting all the poles together  and threading them all through the correct parts. Once she had done this, off she skipped to make friends with all the other children playing nearby.

Louie was great company, and by profession was a geothermal engineer. He drills boreholes around Paris to heat water and thus heat big buildings and schools. His English was from 3 years in Australia.

And a couple of little romantic photos to prove that I am a big
sopp. In front of a Schloss we visited on a day off.

And back in France - an absolutely charming
moment as a really talented couple jived away
apparently completely oblivious to the the awed
audience