Moseying along the Moselle and heading for Blighty

The Moselle changes its name to the Mosel when it crosses into Germany, a sinuous snake of a river that confuses our sense of direction as it twists and turns. The steep hillsides are raked with vines, planted in cross-hatch patterns amongst rocks and shale. The slopes are so steep that crampons would be useful for the vineyard workers. There is help for the viticulturalist however, small monorail systems that stretch up from the riverside for transporting grapes and supplies up and down the slopes.

The river route between Trier and Koblenz is lined with ‘stellplatz’ that cost about $16 a night, usually with a water view and sometimes with wifi and electric. Stellplatz means ‘stopping place’ and they are nearly always close enough to a village for fresh bread or coffee/beer. The Mosel river is an ever changing scene of barges and pleasure craft, the villages are of course immaculate, not OTT with geraniums and twee, and with a distinct Germanic flavour.

The town of Zell

About midway in our journey we back-tracked to a stellplatz attached to a restaurant/winery/bakery and plugged in for the night. The English people in their big new luxury motorhome parked next to our dusty small rental job recommended the restaurant, so we got changed and had – you guessed it – schnitzel von krumb. I had bought a new dress that afternoon but didn’t wear it as I saw ‘her next-door’ wearing the identical dress as she walked toward the restaurant. It was just as well we had back-tracked as Stuart decided the boots he bought were the wrong size so we swapped them on our way back.   

Eltz castle

To reach Eltz castle, we had to detour out of the valley and up onto a plateau covered with fields of wheat that rustled and swayed in the breeze. 
The castle is a dead ringer for a Disney castle, I guess they copied it off TV. It is a bit of a Tardis in reverse as they often are – huge on the outside but only a small part is open to view. Still good to have been there.
After our tour we left the beautiful park like setting and descended back into the valley before heading to Koblenz.

Stuart at the confluence of Rhine/Mosel

The final stop on the Mosel experience was a very expensive campground in Koblenz, no special amenities but it sits at the confluence of the Mosel and Rhine rivers. Jutting out into the confluence on a triangular piece of land is a monument to beat all monuments commemorating Germany’s last emperor – Kaiser Wilhelm II. Kaiser Bill is massive as is his horse, the pediment underneath it dwarfs people as they climb to get the full experience. The ‘prow’ of this piece of land is something like being on the bow of a huge ship, people were taking selfies in ‘Titanic’ poses. A small ferry takes us from the campsite to the town opposite and Kaiser Bill stares down on the ferry and across to our wohnmobile (as the Germans call it) parked in the camp opposite. Koblenz is abuzz with river traffic separating under Bill’s eye to go up either the Mosel or Rhine; a gondola is in perpetual motion overhead and streams of trains and cars run alongside the river. All this motion!

I miss the French polite greetings and farewells and the elegant language – a menu in German is not nearly as enticing as a menu in French, but there is something interesting in the sound of ‘puddingplunder’. The currywurst I had for lunch was not quite the wurst choice of streetfood I have ever made but I won’t be repeating it.

It is auf wiedersein to Germany as we start the trek back to Calais where we have an early morning rendezvous with a ferry for the trip back to Blighty. Belgium did not exactly beckon but whichever way we turned the map it seemed inevitable. There was muttering about cheap diesel in Luxembourg but it seemed counter-productive to travel extra to get it. 

Sunday is a great day to travel on the toll-free motorways in Germany and Belgium, all the trucks are squeezed into laybys and service areas to sit out Sunday in the scorching heat.

Our meals are becoming a bit creative now as I try to use the supplies up, and the treats cupboard is emptying quickly. The last leg of the journey is a bit of pick-n-mix as we make our way across Northern France. Will the detergent and toilet paper last?

I am looking forward to coming home, nothing like home is there? People spot the GB identity on our registration plate and assume we are from England – we quickly put them right. Older people think we have travelled from the end of the earth (we have) and younger people fall into paroxysms of delight. “Wow! I want to go there, it is the best place” they say. The promotions must be working.

We have a few weeks in England, one in Suffolk re-visiting the area we lived in 40 years ago then three ‘L’s’ – Ledbury, Liverpool, London. We drop off the camper at another L – Luton, and pick up a rental car to see us through the final weeks.

London is the venue for Stuart’s birthday – maybe a West End show. So it is au revoir from her, and auf weidersein from him.  Bonne chance and catch ya later.

Chateau in Belgium next to our camping spot

Three High Places

Chausson is on the right, the dark one

Garmisch-Partenkirchen, marked on the German Alpine Road as a highlight was up for our inspection. We parked on a 110 place aire, which was adjacent to a cable car operation. It was a glorious day and we paid our money, chose our carriage and ascended about 1000m up to high alpine pastures, where we alighted to a wrap-around view of jagged rocky mountains. Cows were grazing, their clanking bells the only noise in the still air, lucky with the weather, we could see for miles. The name of the experience was unfortunate – Wank, described as being suitable for families and senior citizens. Hmmm.

An experience for families and senior citizens

That evening we did some research on the next high place and set off in the morning on a lovely clear blue sky day for Lake Eibsee where we intended to catch a cog wheel train then a cable car up to the top of Germanys highest mountain – Zugspitze. The views would be stupendous, I had worked out there was an aire nearby and we drove through the chaos of Munich’s midsummer Saturday-traffic. There was a bit of difficulty finding the right entrance to the aire, but we parked up and started consulting our maps about the best route to the station.

Something wasn’t feeling right – we were next to a lake but there wasn’t much of any kind of services and also – no mountain! I had picked the wrong name out of the aire-bible and we didn’t have time to turn around and battle the traffic. We made the best of what we had and cycled the lake perimeter. The lake was deep blue fringed with a turquoise shoreline, the sun reflecting off the white rock lakebed. People had all manner of non motorised water toys out and sunbathers filled every little white beach.

X6 parked on glacier at Zupspritze

 To resolve that feeling of FOMO (fear of missing out) we were up early the next day and after the rain cleared, drove back to Garmisch-Partenkirchen, found the cog-wheel train station and parked on the side the road. We bought our tickets with 2 minutes to spare for the first departure of the day.

The cog railway went up a steep incline and into a tunnel arriving at Zugspitze Glacier at 2600 metres. The trains need the cog mechanism underneath to be able to pull themselves up. We had breakfast at the glacier restaurant and waited a few hours for the drizzle to clear, enjoying the free wifi. The next highlight was the cable car to the summit, it seemed to whizz along – 9 metres a second, covering 1km. Stuart climbed to the summit (nearly 3000m – Mt Cook 3700, using a via ferrata. I chickened out, heights have always made me nervous and the iron was wet and slippery.

When the weather cleared we didn’t get the blue skies of the previous day, but the views were still amazing – mountains all around. Stuart went on a tobaggan ride accompanied mainly by children and a bunch of Muslim girls out for the day, loosing his favourite $2 shop glasses in a tube - irreplaceable. Unfortunately the cloud descended as we took a different cable car down back to the cog railway catching glimpses of the forest below and whisking past the rock face.

Stuart during summit

Jane practising ferrata techniques

The third high place was a visit to the Eagles Nest. We had camped near Berchtesgaden, drove to the (need I say – free parking area), stumped up the entrance fee and with the rest of the great unwashed – we were ushered onto pre-designated buses for the 7km ride up to 1834 metres.

To get to the actual top we walked through a 124 metre tunnel and took a brass panelled lift up another 124 metres. The lift and tunnel were orginally built to transport Adolph Hitler to the mountain top residence. He rarely stayed there however, preferring a grand holiday residence lower down the mountain. The Eagle’s Nest (a name the Americans gave it) was used to receive dignataries, it is now basically a restaurant which disappointed me, to find out more I would have to visit the Dokumentation Centre back down in the valley.

Look at the cog rail

 We enjoyed lunch and morning tea to celebrate Stuart’s birthday, then were bussed back down to visit the idyllic valley close to the German/Austrian border, where together with his henchmen Hilter chased out the local people and erected fine houses, each with their own bunker. He turned this area close to where we stayed for 3 days, into an off-limits zone .

The Nazi leaders planned and strategized in this second seat of power. We visited an exhibition about the sinister history of this holiday area. Alot had been bombed by Allied forces, however some of the large communal bunker had been excavated and we walked through some of this massive bunker system , and even got slightly lost at one stage. The bunkers had been built for comfort with air conditioning and hot air heating ducts, and all the other necessities to house a small army. The exhibition was a massive information overload and after walking around in the hot sun most of the day I was flagging and looking forward to getting back to our aire for a cup of tea. At the aire some of the wohnmobiles scored a fantastic view of the mountains – I think they don’t moved as we never got a chance in 3 days to see the mountain view from our wohnmobile - and had to settle for a view of the men’s urinal (why don’t they close the door!).

Eagle's Nest

 On to Austria next, land of the cheap diesel – but our vignette is nearly expired and we only used 15 minutes of it. Will need to find some LPG for our tank before we go as we are not certain on the availability in Austria. The big ticket item in Austria is the Gross Glockner pass, one of the bucket list driving experiences apparently. We will need to pick our day carefully.

Two frauleins - one from Australia at Eagles Nest

Bavarian delights

I feel ashamed that I hadn’t known what a beautiful area Bavaria and the alps is, it has been an unexpectedly pleasant surprise. It beats other countries we have traveled in for beauty, incredible cycle trails and superb roads, not to mention the variety of beers and breads.

We are near the borders of Germany, Austria and Switzerland, and our plan is to avoid the holiday hotspots at the coastal resorts, see some alpine areas as well as escape the worst of the heat. 

We have been roughly following the German Alpine Road. It is 450 km long and starts at Lake Constance, it finishes roughly at Berchtesgaden on the Austrian border.

We traveled alongside Lake Constance, a large lake with the border between Switzerland and Germany running through the middle. Vineyards on the slopes lead down to the lake making a lovely backdrop. We picked an aire in Meersberg based on the trusty aire bible The aire was a big gravely yard about 1km from the town and we had an unfriendly German couple and their dog (he looked alright) camped next to us.

Meersberg

Bubble blowing bear

Howard and Hilda were released from the garage and we went exploring Meersberg. A popular but still lovely old walled town on the lakes edge, it even had a schloss and a zeppelin museum, speaking of which, there was one flying above us advertising a theme park.

We walked along the lake edge eating ice creams and watching ferries, quite large ones, sailing up and down and across the lake to Switzerland. I looked at the menus outside openair restaurants and sneaked a peek at diners’ plates. It all looked like sausage, schnitzel and pommes (is that a French word?). German restaurants don’t seem to have the popularity around the world that they do in their homeland.

The lake area is a transition zone between the Black Forest and Bavaria. The next morning we were off early to Bavaria, stopping for a small quantity of diesel, cheaper in Austria apparently. Once away from the lake we started climbing and were soon following a twisting turning road through forest. When we popped out of the forest road we were surrounded by mountains and meadows. The hillside was dotted with large chalet style houses, we started travelling through ski resort towns.

The next aire we found had a friendly German couple camped next to us who more than made up for the other lot. The countryside is picture postcard stuff and criss-crossed with walking and cycling tracks. Lush grassy hills are set against a backdrop of craggy mist shrouded mountains with just a touch of dirty snow here and there. Holiday homes and Gasthofs are clustered in hamlets, most having a chapel on a hilltop.

We cycled to the main town in the valley – Oberstdorf, it reminded us of Banff in Canada, we were entranced watching the skiers hurtling down huge artificial grass ski-jumps. The town was very picturesque and filled with tourists buying up large at the outdoor clothing shops. Thunderbolts and lightning on the way back and we ended up soaked through – peddling furiously for 9km and blinded by rain.

At dinnertime we were treated to music from a Bavarian brass band playing soothing melodies, accompanied on percussion by goats in the nearby field. After a while the melodies began to sound all the same, the goats must have agreed as they seemed to stop ringing their little bells.

We spent a couple of nights in Fussen enjoying cycle rides around the lakes and visiting a couple of castles. Only viewing from the outside you understand, the queues were so long at 10.30 we would have had to wait until 3.30 to get in. We left Howard and Hilda in chains and enjoyed a lovely 40 min walk to Neuschwanstein castle up a beautifully kept road with trees shading us. Shire type horses were pulling carriages uphill for those not inclined to walk. Neuschwanstein is another ‘Disney’ icon of a castle and looked stunning set against a dramatic moutain backdrop.

Nearby Hohenschwangau is another castle, much older and a short walk from Neuschwanstein .

Neuschwanstein

The aire at Fussen is the biggest we had experienced – we slotted ourselves into number 9 – right opposite reception to pick up the free wifi (thank goodness, we were hanging out for wifi). There were about 200 sites and every night it was full with hopeful late-comers trawling through looking for a spot. One optimist was driving something the size of a bus and towing a trailer with a Mercedes 380 stationwagon on it.  

Picking up from the last post - I did manage to get the washing done, talk about a saga. Suffice to say I was ready at 9.30 for the first load, and finally got the sheets through the dryer by 6.30pm. The machine went into lock down – my unwashed clothes trapped in the Miele maw. It was partly operator error as the instructions were in German and a friendly lady interpreted but didn't really understand the workings. Quite a few unused euros went into the machine to add insult to injury. I thought it had all gone to hell in a handcart when the coin box went on the blink and we gave it a good thump – the lights went out, and the next morning when the man came round I used my best German – machine est kaput. He managed to release my dirty clothes by trickery that Stuart wished he had thought of.

Moving along we are freewheeling along the German Alpine Road towards Austria, yes we have the vignette, a bit premature as we are still in Germany for a while and traveled in Austria for a whole 15 minutes.

And into Germany

 

I was sad to say goodbye to Phil and Jenny, not only loosing their company but it meant taking the plunge and moving to the next country – Germany. The road signs are so scary – the words look as if something bad is imminent.

Our first stop was Impflingen – Stuart’s wisecrack was it is the same as dwarf throwing only with imps. Impflingen was surrounded by vineyards, wheat fields and orchards. Apricots were being harvested as we cycled by on the lovely little concrete roads that separated the fields. We couldn’t figure out if they were public roads, they seemed to be used as cycleways and tractor-roads. When no one was looking I stole across to pluck a couple of those lucious looking fruit, but when they were within my grasp it was obvious those golden fruits were as hard as rock, so they remained on the tree.

We are flying blind in Germany, we have an enormous book map of France but only a fold out map for Germany which is low on detail. No Lonely Planet, no Rough Guide and we don’t have a lot of internet data to play with. We are using our book of camping aires as a guide to where there might be interesting places to stay.

We settled on going to a Bad place. Bad – means (thermal) bath and there were a lot of Bad places to choose from. The one we picked had an aire for wohnmobiles, set under leafy trees beside an expensive spa with a big open air pool. Even with the 10% discount we were offered, the spa seemed pricey. What amazed me was that the pool was only separated from the general public by upright slabs of stone that had people-sized gaps between them. This would not do in NZ.

Stuart has stopped at the fruit stall for raspberries

It has now got very hot – 30 degrees by 10 o’clock in the morning. We pressed on to a mountain area thinking (wrongly) that it would be cooler. We are now in the middle of the Black Forest area.

The Black Forest isn’t black – looks to me more blue/green. The villages are punctuated with needle like steeples. Steep pitched red tiled houses are huddled together around the church, and the Gasthofs (guest houses) are usually a floral bonanza to behold.

We curse the satnav at times and watched with amusement as a Swedish couple obviously following their satnav zig-zagged around town, even ending up behind the aire at the cemetary, before parking next to us. That particular aire didn’t score very highly on my scale of aire-points, all it offered was a chance to empty the toilet. However satnav was very well behaved and spot-on as she navigated us around the larger cities directing us to motorways and roundabouts, as well as through the main shopping thoroughfare if she could. We would really be blind in these situations – impossible to follow a detailed map if you had one, read the unfamiliar signs and keep up with the traffic. In one place in Germany there was no speed limit and traffic was hurtling past us.

Big cuckoo clock, Triberg

Our arrival in Germany is a big bread revelation for Stuart, he loves his bread and thought he couldn’t live without fresh French baguette for breakfast and lunch. On our first morning he chose a variety of seedy and grainy rolls at the bakery. Two hours later we visited a supermarket and he loaded long life bread into the trolley (in case of a bread emergency). In addition to the above mentioned rolls he bought some dark looking stuff for toast. Then he found the bread dispensing machine. This called for decisions – something he is finding harder as he gets older. There were 12 different kinds of bread. There was a pic of each type of bread with the price – push the button and it comes out. He stopped at just 2 choices which were warm and eaten straight away in the truck.

We spent a couple of nights at an aire that scored high points, (I should compile a matrix) cowbells, churchbells, large chalets and alpine meadows surrounded us. There was a free open-air ‘natural’ swimming pool a short distance away and as I had endured several days in the 30s I dragged Stuart along for a swim. Not quite what I expected – it was very big with all the usual pool trappings but the water was a murky brown colour and the bottom was gravel – still I was very hot. The water was very cold and I took ages to achieve neck-high immersion. It was incredibly popular though and I took great care not to ingest any of the turbid liquid. Luckily the wacky French requirement for men to wear speedos in swimming pools didn’t seem to apply.

The next day we had some reprieve from the heat with temperature dropping to mid 20s.

Moving right along, but not very far, we set up camp at an aire close to a lake, ie putting the handbrake on and faffing with levelling ramps if the gas hotwater won't work. We are very close to the Swiss border but won’t be crossing into Switzerland as we are restricted by export terms to stay in EU countries.

As in the other parts of Germany we visited, the cycle paths are excellent and we did a 20km circuit of the lake. Pine trees on the surrounding hills almost touched the lake’s edge. We watched some kids on a couple of sailboats, shades of Swallows and Amazons, their sails reflected beautifully in the dark waters of the lake, voices carrying across the water.

Next step is to get out the map, consult the bible and plan our next night’s possible spot, we might need to factor in a camping ground if we don’t find a waschsalon (laundromat).