Rudesheim and Coffee on the Rhein

Today, we rocked up at the delightful village of Rudesheim am Rhein. Riviera don’t deserve too much criticism in my humble opinion, but, I am afraid to say, there was not enough time given over to this lovely little riverside settlement.

I am fully accepting that others won’t necessarily share my view, but that is what it is, my view, and I am sticking to it. As much as I don’t mind a church or a cathedral I think one can become a little cathedraled out. As our Australian pals might say, again, “ABC!” I am inclined to agree with them. If that makes me a philistine, well, that’s fine, that’s what I am.

I know I said earlier that we had finished with being picked up by coaches from the quayside. That is, ostensibly, true, for today we were collected by a train. Yes, a train. Even though there is a railway station in Rudesheim, we were to travel around the neighbourhood on a road-train. Not the monsters that ply their trade in the Australian Outback, but a delicate little thing that goes around on ordinary road tyres, the Winzerexpress. No tracks involved.

There were, in actual fact, two of these trains, each pulling three small carriages, much like flower petals when stood next to the real thing. Basically, they took us on what was meant to be a thirty minute tour.

Unfortunately, as we were making our way back into the village, we were held up by a linen delivery parked outside a hotel, if you are old fashioned like me, and think it should be an hotel, take your complaint to the modern language ombudsman. The lanes are rather narrow and there was no way through. On hindsight we should have got out and walked to save time, which was in short supply, we were meant to be departing the port during the early afternoon for Koblenz.

Notwithstanding the hold up, the little train journey was worth every penny, or pfennig, as the locals used to say. The countryside surrounding the small town, I am not sure whether it is classed as a town or a village, and I have seen it referred to as either, is both beautiful and hilly in equal measure.

We rolled through hectares and hectares of vineyards, the grapes from which would be turned into wine in the main, but this region of the state of Hessen is famous, most of all, for its Asbach brandy. It was whilst we were passing through the grapevines that we learned that the imposing statue overlooking the valley was an image of the blonde haired warrior, Germania, holding her crown and sword in triumphant pose.

I was trying to conjure up an image of the battling 12 metre high woman upon whom the figure was based and, in my own mind and I don’t know why, I scrolled back through my memory until I hit on a picture of Charlie Dimmock. No, I know, no idea where I dredged that one up from!

Time was running short and before we did anything else we thought it prudent to take the walk back to the ship to work out how much longer we had in the town, needed to find the coffee.

On the way back we stumbled across a noticeboard portraying an image of a cable car and according to Jane, for some reason, a view of Britannia. The words were in German, isn’t that quite thoughtless, I mean, what gives Germans the right to erect signs in German, but the picture told a tale.

It was clear that us tourists could jump on a cable car and get up to the viewpoint where we could get close up with Germania, now looking a lot like Britannia in my mind’s eye. Apologies to Charlie, back to jeans and tee shirts on cool summers’ days. That’ll do for me!

Regrettably, we didn’t allow ourselves enough time to visit the Germania memorial, so it will have to be booked in for a return trip. The local coffee held more of an attraction, even though the sun hadn’t got over the yardarm. Can I just question that idiom, if I interpret it correctly, it means you can partake at any time of the day, for wherever the sun is in the sky you can always climb a few steps and ensure it is over the yardarm, don’t you think?

For those of you who have travelled in this area, you will know this is the home of the famous, or should that be infamous, Rudesheimer Kaffe. More alcohol before the morning was complete. Can you see a trend developing? The pre-cruise blurb described this as a decadent coffee. Yep, that’s about right, decadent with bells on I would say. Despite my declaration that brandy is not for me, in the Black Forest episode, I must say this hit the spot.

Before we got to the coffee, though, we were entertained extravagantly by a young Fraulein. Part of the experience is seeing how it is made, and it is wonderful.

First of all, she picked us each out three or four sugar cubes and dropped them in a mug. Then, a generous measure of Asbach is poured in, enough to cover the sweet lumps, before the alcohol is set afire to caramelise the sugar.

At this juncture it is the turn of the pre-prepared coffee which is stirred in with the sweetened brandy before being topped up with vanilla flavoured whipped cream. Was I going to like it? Damned right I was, it was fantastic, indeed, if time hadn’t conspired against us I think I would have been tempted to stop for a second and, even, a third. Bootiful as a certain Norfolk businessman might well have said.

After getting back from our time in the brandy coffee village we met, more formally, two couples who had travelled out together. The lady of the one pairing had spotted my cane and someone had heard us chatting to others about my Retinitis Pigmentosa. It transpired that she also suffered from this condition, poor lady. Hers, on the other hand, was complicated by a myriad of other conditions as well. Sometimes, I just thank my lucky stars for what I have, after all, there are plenty of people in the world who are far worse off than me.

The husband of the other couple was a thoroughly interesting person, in fact, probably the most interesting person on the entire cruise. Oh God, I’m digging a hole! Everyone we met was interesting, it’s just that this particular chap was an accomplished storyteller.

He had been a long serving member of the police force, serving much of his time in a west country county. At one time, among other things, he was head of firearms in this particular force. I could not believe that this place needed a firearms department at all, I don’t think there had been any trouble there since the Vikings had been harrying King Alfred out of the marshes, where he had sought sanctuary to rebuild his army.

What on earth could the challenges be and, to be honest, I did question what they might keep in their firearms lockers? Perhaps a small collection of rusty second-hand Glocks and Barettas, who knew? I mean, I can’t envisage they had any more trouble than the occasional wurzel, high on cider, driving his brand new combine harvester in a threatening manner.

I feel I should have asked. Of course, if he had told me, he might’ve had to shoot me! You know what these security types are like.

Forgive me, I haven’t introduced my new friends, and I have changed their names to protect the guilty. The first couple, including my fellow sufferer, well, I shall call them Daphne and Danny, whilst I will christen the second couple Sally and Martin. Not sure how much digging I should keep doing, it has only just occurred to me that any of the aforementioned might have a worst enemy with the names I have just given them.

To be fair, they might not read this at all and they will be none the wiser. I can see me falling over myself to offer up apologies in the next week or two. Never mind, in for a penny in for a pound.

Please allow me to indulge myself here, I do write fiction after all. I love putting real people in fictional positions. Now, Danny had sold his business some time ago and given that Martin had been a top cop I think one had employed the other to be a bodyguard. I think that is perfectly credible.

Sold business and employed second man as a bodyguard. I feel the first chapter of a new novel taking place.

As we meandered a little further north along the Rhine, next stop Koblenz, I am afraid my new friends tempted me into an afternoon drinkies. Trouble is, I don’t fight very much against these invitations when they are placed before me. My fault, no one else to blame.

Well, the outcome was that we skipped Koblenz. The afternoon made me realise that one of my new friends was, most definitely not, a bodyguard, I think he had the same as me to drink, if not more! Still going to be a first chapter, though. Why let the facts get in the way?

Thus far, it has been my intention not to mention the war, and in the main, I think I have achieved this. It is, however, a shadow that hangs over my generation, four of my Dad’s brothers went off and did their bit.

One was my Uncle Charlie who was a navigator with the RAF and took part in several raids, mainly nighttime as I understand it, over many of the strategically important towns along the various rivers at the centre of the Axis powers.

Can you imagine, at nineteen and twenty, being involved in these sorties, that with any doubt, hastened the end of the conflict? I can’t even envisage how frightened these young men would have been.

Many of their brothers in arms never returned from these forays over enemy territory. It is impossible to visualise now as we float, in peace, along this, in the main, tranquil waterway. It is thanks to these brave young men that we are now able to enjoy this freedom.

I realise that Churchill’s quote, “Never has so much been owed by so many to so few,” was to the fighter pilots in the Battle of Britain, whereas the bombers almost finished the war in ignominy for bombing raids that killed so many of the enemy’s civilians. How they could have been forgotten in such a way, after all, it wasn’t they who made the decisions to go.

My uncle never ever flew again and spent much of the rest of his life looking at the world through the bottom of a glass. I for one, will be forever grateful for the sacrifices my uncles and their comrades made to give us the freedoms we enjoy today, even if some of this freedom is abused and some feel they have the right to do whatever they like in one of those freedoms, that of speech. Make of that what you will.

I am afraid that all I can offer you here is a list of things to do from the internet. I can’t vouch for them in any way, shape or form. I did have a good afternoon, though.

Koblenz is famously located at the confluence of the Rivers Rhine and Moselle. One suggestion is that you can go walking through the picturesque vineyards of the area. To be frank, why? I could sit in the lounge of the Geoffrey Chaucer and sample the fruits of the surrounding farmland without the need to break into a sweat, which seems far more agreeable, I mean cut out the middle man. Seriously, though, I think I might have liked that.

Let’s have a quick whisk around the other highlights we didn’t do in Koblenz. There is a short Rhine-Moselle River Cruise available, but given that we had already spent five nights on a ship, I am not sure that I would have partaken. There is a cellar tour with wine tasting, I think, just sometimes, you can get too much of a good thing.

I have to say, though, I think that the best sounding excursion is a trip to the Ehrenbreitstein Fortress via the cable car. That sounds terrific and is probably the best thing I haven’t done in Koblenz, apart from getting off to wander around the town itself.

I took a peek at some reviews that have been posted about it and, in an unconsidered sort of a way, I think they might put me off. You need to take this with a pinch of salt, I am not an expert handler of the old laptop.

Firstly, someone said that it had a lovely wine bar where one could sample the local Reisling; not sure that sells it to me. Then, another said it was a lovely old building but the people who worked there were horrible; that isn’t exactly inviting either is it.

The final review I am reviewing is that it was nice but the music made it feel like a filmset; that doesn’t do it for me either, but, in all honesty, I have never been on a filmset. Not sure those are the most constructive or relevant, so I think, one day, I will try it for myself. Makes me wonder if I have enough years left to do all the things I should have done but haven’t, only time will tell.

Find Out More
Rudesheim: www.ruedesheim.de
Winzerexpress: www.winzerexpress.de
Germania: www.kultur-in-hessen.de
Koblenz: www.visit-koblenz.de

White Cane Ratings
Winzerexpress: good- interesting; * * * (3)
Rudesheim: very good - little hilly; - * * * * (4)
Rudesheim Coffee: excellent – magnificent; * * * * * (5)