So it came to pass that the old man and I entered the Middle Rhine gorge and found ourselves at the ancient town of Koblenz on the confluence of the Rhine and Moselle rivers. My intentions are rubbery; unlike Switzerland I haven’t been here before, nor is there a set itinerary such as the recently completed wonderful Bavarian tramp. The basic idea is to explore the sixty-odd kilometre gorge by boat, train or both.
Our lodging is modern and well appointed, with a view of the impressive edifice, Herz-Jesu Kirche (it’s an old, big Church). The pension is situated near the old town and not far from the two aforementioned rivers; we feel upbeat about our next few days and what they will add to our already impressive cache of sightseeing features and historical learning.
First though, a libation of a recommended fermented ale, as the trip from Grindelwald has been a long one (and somewhat arduous for the old man – I know this because at one particular train interchange he asked if I could carry my own luggage!).
We eschew the obligatory boat trip for the moment as the weather is inclement and any views from the vessel of the gorge and surrounds would be blurry, if not totally impossible. We are forced to explore the old town on foot. The old man also has the unenviable task of keeping his hair dry and as we perambulate this task becomes more and more arduous until we take on coffee and cake at a quaint cafe.
The stroll along the rivers Rhine and Moselle, and through Koblenz old town, is nonetheless a pleasant way to spend time doing. In particular the experience conjures up images of what the past might have been like when the river was really humming with activity and port trade (today’s barge and boat activity on the river is impressive enough, though it is mainly the well-heeled cruise-set that feature, glass of the local white in hand with boat shoes accompanying the kitsch square-rig cap – how the times have changed!).
After a night of making sure the recommended fermented ale was actually as good as the first tasting suggested, we take a paddle steamer ride to see what the countryside has to offer. Heading down to Bacharach on the Rhine we confirm that they love a barge in these parts; we also fortify ourselves that some of the local vignerons are indeed crazy, as one must be to grow grapes on the side of cliffs (unless the vignerons are not the pickers!).
We pass Lorelei rock on the way – more on that later. Bacharach is even more quaint and older than the old town of Koblenz; we explore the narrow ancient streets and proximate steppes, awash with either grapevines or some long abandoned old church. It is an ancient place that let’s you know your place because it’s ancient and some old monk lived nearby in a cave a while back for quite a while, and you haven’t and probably won’t.
Afforded excellent views of the river from higher up our only disappointment is to discover on this day there is a paucity of vendors in the town offering the wares we have become accustomed to. We instead take comfortable refreshment on the boat ride back to Koblenz. Mine, not thine, is the Rhine!
Not a great area to be at if white wine is not your thing! Mercifully some thoughtful vintners offer alternatively coloured grape juice and we sample these in the pursuit of diversification. These Germans are crazy!
A gondola ride from near Deutsches Eck (where the Moselle intercourses with the Rhine) takes you across the Rhine to Ehrenbreitstein Fortress, which (like most fortresses) sits on top of a hill, is old and has some historic significance. That position affords great views up and down the two rivers and across to Koblenz. Those views are shared with the tourist throng, albeit briefly as the drizzle sends most into the cafes.
We brave a walk around the hilltop (luckily the old man brought a hair mat with him). The previous drizzle clears and we decide to make the gondola trip a one-way affair and walk down the hill and across a bridge spanning the river, back into Koblenz. The walk is several kilometres but offers an insight into “suburban” life around the area – no tourists here and there would be worse places to reside.
The siren of the Rhine. The murmuring rock. Lorelei. Determined to best the tor we make our way by train from Koblenz to the town of St Goar (I mentioned the monk already). From St Goar we cross the Rhine to the north via a short ride on a taxi boat.
We are now in the town of St Goarshausen on the opposite bank (the cave must be nearby). Our endgame is the top of Lorelei rock; the climb commences some two kilometres east of St Goarshausen and is a winding path through bush and farmland to a peak that apparently provides views of the Rhine in both directions (east and west for those who haven’t followed). We have a clear day to undertake this challenging but rewarding ascent.
We commence our endeavour and the route quickly lets you know its intentions. The path is rocky, narrow and rudimentary in places. Not a path well travelled. Indeed we pass no other climbers as we scale up the backside of the rock through deep bush; we anticipate that once successful we will have a Hillary-esque feeling of accomplishment whilst standing precariously on the outcrop looking down onto where few have done before (like Hillary we don’t do selfies).
The path continues; the climb is further than we thought; no riverboat popinjays here! Exhausted we bust out of the bush and stand atop of Lorelei rock; we congratulate each other on a rare achievement and make our way to the viewing area….
…turns out that the place is a tourist Mecca. So much so you can drive or catch a bus to the top on a bitumen road; there is a restaurant, an outdoor concert venue and a campground up there. The viewing platform is all formed pathways, formal gardens, wooden barriers and information boards. Worst of all, every (other) nuffy in Germany is there. Tail between our legs we take our turn to see and photograph the river and decide to make our descent via another route at the front side of the rock, which is shorter but almost a vertical staircase all the way down to the river bank.
To be fair a few more people have braved this path to get to the top – but you know how it goes, shorter is not always easier. Once at the river bank we pay our respects to Miss Lorelei (the statue on the river for the boat people who don’t want to get the loafers dirty) and make our way back to St Goar via a southern crossing at St Goarshausen. Nonetheless a wonderful climb and view from this very famous of places.
Venimus, vidimus , vicimus!