Monday 4
June 2012
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| Floatin' down the Rhine |
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| Rose garden |
After not
getting much sleep we were awakened by the alarm at a quarter to 6. We drudged
through our stowing and breakfast so we could get on the road quickly and find
the paddle boat cruise on the Rhine river. Unfortunately nobody (Charles' note: that would be me) thought to
write down the company’s name so we were left searching in the dark to find
their stations. It was a different set-up for the various Rhine cruises than we
had expected, because they were all spread out and on different sides of
the river with not much signage to follow. Luckily a man at another company
told us the KD Lines paddle boat had just left for the next stop down the road,
so we dashed into the car and floored the 14 kilometers to the next stop, in
Braubach.
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| View of the paddle wheel |
We got there
in time to park, walk through a beautiful rose garden, purchase tickets, and
see the boat blow steam as it came in to land. “Just like Mark Twain would hear!”
we thought.
Roos and
Henri weren’t lying when they said it was an activity for a slightly, okay way older crowd. This was, perhaps, to
be expected, since the boat itself was 99 years old. This large company had many boats going up and down the Rhine but we wanted the old sidewheeler, one of only two operating in all of Europe (who would expect even one?).
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| Our fellow Rhiners |
We chatted
with a few groups on board, one a woman from Kansas, Renee, and Uwe, the host
for her daughter when she was a foreign exchange student living in Germany. It
was kind of nice to hear a familiar accent. We chatted a bit with a younger German couple and were surprised the guy knew about the Kings being in the run for the Stanley Cup (he knew more than Charles did -- hockey? in Deutschland?).
We relaxed
outside sitting at the back and watched the sights go by. After 3 hours of
pleasant, slow drifting, Nicole honestly got bored. After 5 hours she went stir
crazy.
Our boat
made an hour-long stop in Rudeshein and we tooled around the fairly plain and
touristy but pretty town. Dian looked through the church’s book store and
bought one, and Charles bought a mini bottle of the famous Rhine auslese wine.
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| Crowding to see a castle |
Back on the
boat, none of us whined as we dined on some cheese and its rind, accompanied by
Rhine wine. Yes, we were that starved for entertainment. Nicole had become so torpid
she coined the new phrase “convenience photography,” where she took only the
shots that were convenient, or took every shot conveniently as possible e.g. she
hardly got out of her chair. But through rain and mental numbness, she soldiered on with her duties as trip photographer. Charles eventually moved inside to a table by the window and the steady bumping motion let him imagine he was on the Mississippi in those quaint old times of Mark Twain.
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| Route to Santiago de Compostela?? |
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| It was a sad state of affairs: Nicole had been saving the leftover garlic potatoes for later in the day, but when she asked for the potatoes, then asked for the time, she found out it was only 1 o'clock. "I thought it was 5!" she said despairingly. The fork also broke in half. |
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| Excalibur! How do we get to you?! |
The castles
we passed were numerous and pretty in the way that they were each tucked into
the green hillside high above quaint, typically German towns. One of the larger
of these towns was Bingen, where Hildegard von Bingen originated, our favorite medieval female composer. We thought of
Dian’s sister Monica as we passed this.
It was
coming to our stop so we gathered our things and walked downstairs to the exit.
Dian had to use the bathroom, so Nicole turned just around the corner to take a
picture of the boat. As they both returned moments later they saw Charles was
very upset, talking with the employees who take the dock ropes on and off. It was
then that the two realized we were still moving. Charles had been standing on
the platform, telling them he needed to get off, but after a 30-second (or less!) landing
(we were later told by an employee that KD Lines rules say all their stops are at least five minutes), they shoved off
again! And the worst part, the employees were totally unsympathetic, and were
even snickering at us. No one ever said the word "sorry," and they wouldn't let us speak to the captain or anyone else.
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| Prime example of "convenience photography," taken sitting down and leaning backwards |
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| Oh yeah, and it rained part of the way so we had to sit inside |
After a
15-minute wait, we got off with two choices: A cab or a train. We chose the
train, which, luckily, was very nearby, but our spirits were at a serious low.
The station was dirty, and there was no one to talk to except for a bunch of
drunk and rowdy kids, who we did ask for help, but none of them seemed to speak
English or didn’t care to. We had asked for their help because the automated machine to buy tickets froze and
stopped working, but we figured if it was only one stop we would get on, and if
someone asked for our tickets we would explain to them our situation and pay
them then. Luckily no one asked, so we got to ride free.
We stepped
off the train in Brauback and into a light rain as we followed signs pointing to the Rhine.
Nicole the homing pigeon got us back fairly quickly, and once we spotted the rose
garden we knew we were okay.
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| It rained, but we did see a rainbow |
That night
we had more lasts, namely our last night in our van. Nicole took a walk while
Dian and Charles chatted, and when she got back we had a rather unusual dinner
conversation: Dian, ever the school teacher, suggested we each name two of the
worst times we could remember on the trip. As you can imagine, this turned into
a long conversation, but in a lighthearted way. It was what some of us needed
anyway, not being ready to let go of the days’ previous events yet.
Dinner: good
old Dia pesto with Dia pasta, tomatoes and bell peppers
Sleeping
arrangement: Dian on the worm, Nicole on the big bed, and Charles on the top
bed.
