Koblenz - Bikes, Castles & Fickle Weather

On July 9th we arrived in Koblenz, in the Rhineland, Germany. With the first construction taking place around 1000 BC, in the form of fortifications at what is now Festung Ehrenbreitstein, this was one of the oldest sites of civilization that we visited.

The old city was built up in the triangle where the river Mosel meets the river Rhine. At the very tip of this convergence is Deutsches Eck, or German corner, atop which stands a massive statue of the German Emperor Wilhelm I. This monument was first erected at the end of the 19th century, but it was seriously destroyed by an American hand grenade during World War II. A new statue was inaugurated in 1993, as a symbol of German unity... and as a tourist attraction. The site is impressive, and the view of the Rhine Gorge from its high pedestal offers an excellent view to both Wilhelm I and the Americans who climb below him.

Koblenz maintains the difficult balance of being inviting to tourists but not too touristy. The city is surrounded by magnificent castles and wine regions, so foreign guests should be expected. With the exception of one bus tour that dumped its contents onto a town square I was trying to photograph, the travelers seemed to blend in well. I appreciated the fact that the tourist council didn't shut down - or was unable to shut down - the bizarre sex shop in the middle of the old town. "Local flavor", that's what I learned to call it back in fifth grade. Of course Mrs. Carey wasn't referring to female mannequins in lingerie and male mannequins in camouflage and carrying lightsabers.

What of these castles? After Dana and I had seen enough cathedrals in Italy and France to last a lifetime, we didn't think the same thing would happen for castles. And it didn't... but we definitely would have overdosed had we visited every castle within 20 minutes of Koblenz. (There are about a dozen.) To get some exercise and delay the castle-touring, we went to Lahnstein, on the river Lahn, to rent bikes. The operation was run out of the guy's garage, but the bikes held up well enough. The weather, unfortunately, did not. Five minutes into our adventure, just after we had biked through the town and crossed the Lahn onto the bike path, the rain started. Bikes were delivered back to the guy's garage, and we delivered ourselves to a cafe for some excellent goulash.

And so we went to a castle. Marksburg Castle. Admittance was only allowed with a tour, and tours in English were only given when prearranged, so we tagged along with a bunch of 12 year old British students, all girls, who were probably really pissed to be missing the premiere of Harry Potter. The tour was excellent, and the schoolgirls were well-behaved. The castle has never (yet) been conquered, but after taking notes and photographing the interiors, I'm pretty sure I can assemble a team to do it. After all, the occupants these days are often distracted by updating their Web page and selling souvenirs. Sure, they have a tower full of genuine medieval swords and a dungeon full of torture equipment*, but I figure all we need is a helicopter and maybe Jack Bauer. Let me know if you are interested.

Night led us back into the old town for a bite and a walk. In Görresplatz there is a fountain that tells the story of the city of Koblenz. On a base that is an overflowing rowboat carrying barrels of wine, each stage of the city's existence is stacked on the one previous. So in this tower, a sort of temporal totem pole, you can see the town sacked by the Franks and destroyed by the Thirty Years War and both world wars. On the top is the city as it is today. Historiensäule am Görresplatz was built by Juergen Webers.

Our second full day in Koblenz was much sunnier, so we saddled the bikes once again. The rain held off while we rode along the river Lahn, checking out the old mansions and a few castles on the way to Bad Ems and back. We popped into a small pub on the river as well. The only parking there was for boats and bikes. I went to the bar and waited patiently for about eight minutes. Finally I tried pressing the Big Mouth Billy Bass on the wall but the batteries were dead. The bell seemed a reasonable second choice, but MAN was that loud! The publican came up from the basement, where she may have been buried and reawakened by the gong I had just sounded. If that was the case, my Paulaner hefe still tasted just fine.

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