Beau Soir

As a translator, it is one of my great joys to translate music-related texts. Every once in a while, I also get to translate poetry – perhaps the ultimate test of a translator’s skill.

Once in a blue moon, I get to translate poetry as part of a classical CD liner note text, in essence combining my three great loves: music, poetry, and translation.

And so I present my translation of ”Beau Soir” by 19th-century French poet Paul Bourget, which was set to music by a very young Claude Debussy.  

Beau Soir

Lorsque au soleil couchant les rivières sont roses
Et qu'un tiède frisson court sur les champs de blé,
Un conseil d'être heureux semble sortir des choses
Et monter vers le coeur troublé.

Un conseil de goûter le charme d'être au monde
Ce pendant qu'on est jeune et que le soir est beau,
Car nous nous en allons, comme s'en va cette onde:
Elle à la mer, nous au tombeau.

Paul Bourget

Beau Soir

When rivers run pink as the sun sets down
And a ripple runs warm over fields of wheat,
An ode to joy rises from all around
And soars to the heart bittersweet.

An ode to taste the charms of life this day
While we are young and the evening abloom,
Because, like that wave, we all make our way:
Rivers to sea, and we to tomb.

Paul Bourget
English translation © Peter Garner

Here’s Debussy’s song performed by the great Renée Fleming. It’s hard to fathom that Debussy was only about 15 when he composed this.

 

 

Back to reality

I wrote the following reflections about this vacation on the plane home. 

Three weeks on the road. Three weeks of a new adventure every day.

Convention has it that humans are exploratory by nature. Certainly, there is an argument to be made that the propensity for exploration confers an evolutionary advantage: the explorers in a population will find uninhabited territory in which to thrive, as opposed to staying at home, where they must compete with others for resources. Of course there is the obvious counter argument that the inherent dangers of exploring the unknown must be weighed against the advantages of remaining at home, where presumably there is safety and prosperity in numbers and an established base.

And while each of us probably possesses at least a modicum of this drive to explore – so celebrated literature and popular culture, and especially science fiction – clearly most of the humans on this planet are not explorers. The vast majority of us live in cities or cultivate the land in some way. Only an extremely small percentage of us are nomadic nowadays.

So we must quench our thirst for adventure in other ways. We travel to new places, see the sights, meet new people, taste different kinds of foods. One might say that the entire tourism industry is based on humanity’s need to explore and find adventure. 

In that context, and viewed with an “objective” eye, this three week tour on two wheels was just another form of quenching that thirst. But of course, I’m not objective at all; I experienced it! So while I can try to write objectively about it till the page turns black, it doesn’t alter the visceral joy and satisfaction I feel for having done it, nor the melancholy of its being over. 

On Wednesday, as we were cycling in the rain, I thought I might be ready to come home. But as I wrote yesterday, upon resuming our journey Thursday morning, I realized I could happily continue on another week, a sentiment I also felt on our last cycle tour. These trips are the only times I have ever not felt ready to come home. Such is the draw of waking up every morning to a new adventure, to new lands, to new people. After our last trip, I wrote it was the “routine of change” that we loved so much.

In the grand counter-clockwise movement of this trip, we cycled through four countries: Luxembourg, Germany, Holland, and Belgium. And while they are all very close together, I am amazed at how different each country is. Luxembourg, with its lovely gardens, hills, and obvious prosperity; Germany, with its winding river valleys, castles, colourful houses, and strict rules; Holland with its flat terrain, incredibly manicured gardens, cheerful people, and amazing bike paths; and Belgium, with its more rolling countryside, large farms, and of course, amazing beer. But for us, the common thread was the camaraderie of the road, rediscovered each morning.

So I write this as we fly home, 11,000 metres above the southern tip of Greenland, already thinking about where we should go next. With our second trip under our belts, we are much more experienced and confident as cycle tourists. On our first trip two years ago, we purposely stuck to countries that we knew had excellent bicycling infrastructure, but for this second trip, we ventured into more uncharted waters. While Germany is still a great place to cycle, it’s nothing as organized as Holland. So now we feel we might be ready for a less organized place – perhaps France or England; Denmark is another possible destination. And even though it’s now a very well-known quantity, I would love to explore northern Holland. 

On this trip, we learned that our wet-weather gear is perhaps not good enough for an extended period of wet weather (something we have been fortunate not to encounter in over five weeks of cycle tourism). And I’d like to find a way to reduce our weight. My bicycle (16 kg) and panniers (14 kg) plus myself (90+ kg) made for a lot of weight to pedal around. 

We learned that it’s a good idea to take a day off at least once a week (something we did accidentally on our first trip). But we also learned that we don’t like to spend that much time in cities. It is the cycling we enjoy most. If I could do it again, I wouldn’t spend three days in Heidelberg, lovely as it was. 

I learned that it takes me a solid week to shed the anxiety of not having place to stay booked in advance, and this is something I really hope will change with more experience. 

After our last trip, we mourned our return for two weeks, and there has been a similar period of adjustment this time, though both of us were plunged cruelly back into work immediately. But it has been good to reconnect with family and friends, tell the stories of our adventures, and show the pictures. And as I have done from time to time with the last trip, I will return to this blog and relive the adventure to some small degree. And that will have to do, until next time. 

Finis  

The road to Brussels (and home)

After the hard day yesterday, I thought I was just about ready to come home. But when we started out this morning – relatively early so we'd still have some time at the end of the day in Brussels – I was immediately wistful, knowing it would be our last day of cycling. Even though our legs were feeling tired, it being the 7th day in the row on the road, we were both of the opinion that after a day or two of rest, we would happily continue for another week.

Such is the wonder of waking up every morning and setting off on a new exploration. Such is the incredible appeal of cycle touring.

Last day on the road

The landscape this morning started out much like we ended with yesterday, sans pluie, but after 10 km or so, it became clear that our route was becoming increasingly urban. As we rode south of Leuven (Louvain) in Heverlee, we came across Park Abbey, which seemed to be undergoing some restoration. We cycled under some lovely 18th century arches.

Park Abbey (dated 1722) 

Typical lunchtime view.

We stopped for coffee after about 25 km, and then for lunch at about 35. We had a lovely view, though we were happy to get off the cobblestones. We got to the Airbnb about 2, settled in and had showers, and then took the Metro into town to do some shopping. In my case, this mostly meant hitting Cantillon, a great bottle shop called Beer Mania, and the wonderful bar Moeder Lambic.

Toasting the end of #cycletour2017 with a glass of Rosé de Gambrinus chez Cantillon. 

We found a burger joint for supper then walked home via Brussels' always bustling Grand Place. 

One last selfie. 

Maybe on the plane tomorrow, I'll try to sum up my thoughts about this trip, but right now, I'm too tired, after 49 km on the bike and another 7 or 8 km walking downtown. Time to crash for the last time in Europe.

Nice weather... for snails.

Today, our luck with the weather finally ran out. We set off nice and dry at 10:15 but within 15 minutes it had started to rain, and within half an hour, it was coming down hard. Alas, our home-made booties didn't pass their first real test, because our feet were wet almost immediately.

Then about 10 km into our ride, Sonia's rear brakes started rubbing, so we stopped and had a crash course on brake adjustment in the rain. It took us 10 minutes to figure it out, but we eventually got it sorted. Then a little farther on, her front brakes started rubbing too. However, seasoned brake mechanics that we now were, we where back in the saddle in just a few minutes. If this is the only mechanical trouble we encounter, we'll count ourselves lucky!

We were also lucky that it wasn't overly cold or windy, so we weren't actually unhappy... just a little moist. But with all the stopping our progress was slow, and by 12:30, we were barely half way to our goal of Tienen. We rolled into Sint-Truiden and decided to have lunch at a little cafe in the main square, where Sonia could also change her clothes so as not to get too chilled.

By then, the rain had slowed to a mere drizzle, but the wind had picked up a little. For today and tomorrow, we had decided to forego the LF6 and navigate by number, which makes a somewhat more direct route, if theoretically less scenic. To explain: In Belgium and Holland, there are two ways to navigate. You can take the well marked LF routes, or you can follow the numbers. The countries are dotted with numbered waypoints, and there are always signs directing you to the various local waypoints. To get from point A to point B, you just identify the various waypoints along the way and follow them. So today went something like 117 > 132 > 156 > 155 > 151... and so on. It's all incredibly well organized and civilized.

And in fact, if it hadn't been for the rain, today would have been one of the nicer days of cycling on this trip. The roads/paths were well-maintained and the scenery was lovely. I'm pretty sure that for a chunk of the day were were riding on an old Roman road, locally called Romainse kassei. Google translate says this means "Roman cashier," but my translator's instincts kicked in and, with a little digging, I found that "kassei" also means "cobble(stone)." Certainly, it seemed like a Roman road, cutting straight across the countryside. We eventually turned off it, but looking at the maps, I think we could have taken it all the way into Tienen.

Needless to say, I didn't take any pictures on the road today (Sonia got one of some snails "rushing" across the bike path as we played snail slalom). We rolled into Tienen about 3 p.m., checked into our hotel and made a beeline for the shower.

Nothing much to report about Tienen. Nice 13th-century church on a hill and apparently an oldish train station (thanks wikipedia). For us, it is memorable mostly as the next-to-last stop on our journey and the place where a bird is striving valiantly to sing the Spiderman theme outside the window (Eb-Eb-Cb-Ab ... E-Eb). Tomorrow we ride into Brussels for our final night of #cycletour2017.

Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Holland anymore.

Today was a short day of cycling, about 25 km or so. The road back to Brussels is just a tad too far to do comfortably in two days, and we decided to do one short day (in lieu of a rest day) and two normal days. Tongeren looked like an interesting little town, so we've stopped here. Tomorrow, we hope to get to Tienen, and then on to Brussels by Thursday.

As we rode out of Maastricht this morning, we finally turned off the LF3 – which starts way up by the North Sea, so we probably only saw half of it – and onto the LF6 route across Flanders.

Hanging a right through Flanders. Goodbye, LF3. 

It was a drizzly morning. We probably could have gotten away with not wearing our rain gear, but hey, we brought it all this way, we might as well use it. The "rain" eventually tapered off completely around 11 or so. 

Our home-made ("Sonia-made") rain booties. Simple but effective. Stylish? Maybe not so much... 

A few kilometres west of Maastricht, we crossed over into Belgium, and like the crossing from Germany into Holland a few days ago, we could feel the difference immediately. The building style, the gardens, and the farms are all very different than Holland. My impression is that the farms in Belgium are generally bigger; it also seemed like there were fewer little towns, and what towns there were were much sleepier – no little cafés and bakeries. At least none that were open. 

Girding our loins to climb a hill in rural Belgium. 

The landscape is also much less flat. Not quite as hilly as Luxembourg (though the first hill to get us out of the Meuse valley was a doozie!), but definitely more relief than Holland. Still it was a nice ride, with not much wind or traffic on these back roads, and we made it to Tongeren by noon. Luckily, the Airbnb host allowed us to check in a few hours early, so we settled in, had lunch and then went to explore the town 

Tongaren is quite nice. The town dates back at least to Roman times, and there's a very good self-guided walking tour, with signs in four languages. There are some remnants of town walls dating from the 13th century, and a fairly well preserved beguinage. The main square is dominated by quite a lovely basilica, the building of which started in the 13th century. The square also features a statue of Ambiorix, a leader of the "Belgae" who revolted against Julius Ceasar and purportedly destroyed a legion. 

The Onze-Lieve-Vrouwe Basiliek and statue of Ambiorix in Tongeren

It was in view of both of these monuments that I sat down to drink some fine Belgian beer while Sonia went to do some shopping. An excellent start to the last few days of our trip. 

Rodenbach Caractère Rouge, on tap no less. Gotta love Belgium. 

Peter and Sonia's A Series of Interesting Events

We left Roermond this morning at 9:15, a pretty decent time considering that for some reason neither of us slept very well. Which is weird, because our accommodations were wonderful.

In any case, we hit the road and found our way to the LF3. At one point, wanting to avoid another exhausting day by taking a few judicious shortcuts, we were looking at our maps when a "kind" Dutchman asked us if he could help, giving what seemed to be a good route to Maastricht; he even took us to the start of the path along the Juliankanal.

A typical Dutch scene, with the water on the left higher than the ground on the right

All seemed well (if a little less structured than we were used to) until the path became increasingly overgrown. We soon realized that we should have turned off at one point and taken a path leading down to the bottom of the dike.

Yeah, something's not right here. 

Eventually, we decided this bushwhacking on bikes couldn't go on, so we unhooked the paniers and took everything down the VERY steep embankment to the real LF3, about 8 metres below.

That's more like it!

All's well that ends well, and the rest of the day was fairly innocuous. That'll teach us to take advice from the Dutch. We'll just follow the posted signs from now on!

As per the last 3 days, today's ride took us through quaint little towns and picturesque farmland. There were also several detours, which turned out to be well marked once we realized what they were -- the joys of travelling where you don't understand the language. At one point, we encountered some heavy machinery building some sort of earthworks, and it occurred to me that most of Holland is one huge feat of engineering. It's no wonder that Dutch gardens are so tidy and meticulously kept. It's just part of the Dutch mentality to control nature. (I don't mean this as a criticism at all; it's kind of mind-blowing how lovely and natural Holland seems despite its being completely manufactured!)

With the good weather and a lack of headwinds (and even some tailwinds), we made excellent time and arrived in Maastricht by 2:30. After settling into our lodging, we went to explore. Maastricht is another university town. You can always tell; there's a certain liveliness to them (all the young people zipping around on bikes is also a giveaway). It's a very pretty town and just the right size to wander around and get lost. There are lots of old churches and fortifications. In some ways, it reminds me of Bruges. In others, Basel is brought to mind, since Maastricht too is separated by a river.

Maastricht city hall

The old city wall

So pretty. Reminds me of Bruges. 

Tomorrow, we turn east into Belgium, heading for Brussels. Hard to believe we fly home in a few days.

Head winds

Another great day of cycling, but whoo boy, were we tired when we arrived at our Airbnb. As the crow or highway flies, Wellerlooi to Roermond (or Herten, to be precise) is only about 51 km. But when you add the twists and turns of the LF3, it was more like 62. And we actually took a few shortcuts! We were also riding into fairly stiff headwinds, especially later in the day, and a good chunk of the route was on gravel or dirt paths (which is somewhat unusual for the LF routes in our experience).

We started off at 10, a little later than usual owing to the very quiet and comfortable B&B we had in Wellerlooi, and our route led us through some beautiful forested parkland.

Not the kind of landscape you expect in Holland.

Then we went through the cute town of Arcen, with it's lovely little moated castle.

Arcen

Much like yesterday, the path took us through a very varied landscape of farmland, pastures, forests, and towns. We also saw our first windmill of this trip.

Ah, OK. Now we're in Holland. 

The last 25 km were fairly blustery, and Sonia rode in my wind shadow for much of it. When we got to Roermond, we were happy to find that the Airbnb was really lovely (our hosts are actually musicians too, which was a bonus), with a grocery store and a French fry shop within 100 m. After showering, eating, and planning the day for tomorrow, it's time to crash. It's been a looong (but lovely) day.

On s'amuse sur La Meuse

Today was the first time on this trip where we had to put our rain covers on. Which is not to say that it actually rained; it was merely spitting a little from time to time. But we wanted to be prepared. It was also quite cool, hovering around 16C (a full 20C lower than a few days ago in Cologne!).

Paved cycle path alongside a dirt road for cars. We're not in Kansas anymore!

 But you know what, it was one of the nicest days of cycling on this trip. First off, have I mentioned yet how nice it is to be back cycling in Holland? Because this country truly is a paradise for cycling. There's so much infrastructure for cyclists, and bikes are simply considered vehicles like any other; car drivers treat bikes with as much respect as they do trucks. Only in Holland do you see a dirt road for cars, with a paved cycle path alongside it. It's so refreshing. 

A couple of happy cyclists

Holland the beautiful

Another thing that makes touring in Holland great is the LF routes. They are not direct routes, but they do take you though some really beautiful countryside, and unlike the routes we rode in Germany, which in our experience tended to avoid or merely skirt small towns, the LFs in Holland take you though picturesque little towns and villages too, so you don't just see the country, you also see the people. 

Today's ride was incredibly varied. We rode through both forested and open parkland; various kinds of farm fields growing corn, barley, potatoes, wheat, and turnips; pasture land, with horses, cows, goats, sheep, and chickens; lots of canals and lakes; and through various sized towns. There was something new and interesting to see around every bend. At one point, we rode through a wide swath of potato fields in bloom, and the scent of all those flowers was incredible. Who knew potato flowers smelled so good!

Nous étions dans le champs de patates, mais sur la bonne route quand même.

Before lunch, we stopped at a bakery for coffee in the little town of Gennep, where I had one of the delicious sausage rolls you find in Holland, which I had totally forgotten about from our last trip. I look forward to having more of these over the next few days!

The perfect mid-morning snack on a cool day.

We ended our day in the barely-on-the-map town of Wellerlooi, halfway between Nijmegen and Roermond. We are in a lovely little housekeeping suite with a small farm behind it. I'm looking forward to getting a good night's sleep and getting another good ride in tomorrow.

On the road again, wherein we say Tschüss to Germany and hello again to Holland

Today was yet another (partial) day of train travel, and it went mostly very smoothly, except for the moment of panic when we realized that we were on the back half of a train that was about to split in two, and the front half was going to our destination – not helped by the fact that the announcements were only in German and Dutch. So it was another mad scramble with the bikes on the platform to move up a few cars... But all's well that ends well.

The train voyage took us to the German town of Emmerich am Rhein, maybe 10 km east of the Dutch boarder. We cycled mostly the D8 route along the Rhine, where it became the LF3 in Holland (and the Rhine became the Waal). The path took us through lots of rural countryside; we definitely were no longer in industrial Rhineland here! We even saw some spoonbills!

Yeah... those white things... take my word for it. 

The road signs in Holland are always good for a laugh too.

I think this means that cyclists are supposed to ride "on the effing shoulders!" 

The destination today was Nijmegen (which, a kind Dutchman on the train told us, is pronounced Nigh-meh-jen... easy for him to say). About 8 km before arriving, however, Sonia finally found a place to swim. And fortunately, there was a nearby pub, so both of us could indulge in our passions. 

But mostly, today was about the joy of being back on the road. My butt was happy about the 4 days off, but as we have come to know well by now, the real pleasure in these vacations comes from getting up every morning and heading into an unknown landscape; the journey truly is the destination. Even the moderate Dutch headwind, the strongest we've had to contend with on this trip so far, could not dampen our spirits. And while Germany was lovely, it was also nice to return to Holland, where we spent so many nice days in the saddle on our last cycling holiday.

We got to our Airbnb shortly after 4 pm, had showers and rested, then headed out for supper, where we found what is perhaps the first really good burger place we have encountered in all our travels in Europe. Didn't hurt that they had a decent beer list, and I was able to reacquaint myself with Mooie Nel IPA from Jopen brewery, which I remember fondly from our last trip. 

Mooie Nel and mooie Sonia. 

Tomorrow, we're continuing down the LF3, along the Meuse. 

Cologne

Wow, another really hot day. Luckily, we were travelling to a place with the perfect antidote to the heat: Kölsch. (For you philistines, that's a style of beer that can be found only in Cologne – or at least it can only be called "Kölsch" if it's brewed in Köln; one might call it the Champagne of Germany.)

Our train from Heidelberg came in right on time. And we were placed at the correct end of the platform for the bicycle car; but of course, just before the train pulled in there was an announcement that the bike car would be at the end of the train rather than the front, so there was a bit of a mad dash to get to the other end of the platform just as the train came in. But other than that, the trip was uneventful.

When you emerge from the Cologne train station, you are greeted with this:

View of Köln from the train station. 

Needless to say, when we got there, around 11:30, it was a job to get out of the station (especially with pannier-laden bikes), because the tourist's natural instinct when confronted with such a spectacle is to stop and whip out the camera. So our path was initially blocked.

But we eventually escaped and made our way to the Airbnb, which was just a few blocks away. After settling in (and chatting with the cleaning lady and her daughter, who where just leaving and who were recent immigrants from Syria – lovely and amazing women who showed no outward signs of the incredible hardships they must have endured... but that's another story...) we set out to explore and do some shopping. I actually had a purpose here, since on the train, I realized that the reason one of my panniers seemed a little less full than usual was that I had left my raincoat behind somewhere along the way (likely Sankt Goar). Since there is some rain in the forecast for next week, I didn't want to be caught without one. Sonia was happy to have a shopping partner for once.

By mid-afternoon, the temperature in Cologne had climbed to 36C, about as hot as I have experienced in many a year. But if there's a place to endure such heat, it's this city. There are probably 30 bars/restaurants within a 200 metre radius of our apartment (I may be underestimating this significantly). The first one we came to was Peters Brauhaus, so naturally I had to try the Kölsch there. Sonia seemed to get a second wind for shopping and so left me to my "research." By the end of the day I had sampled 5 different brands (out of the 13-odd breweries around the city brewing this style). I was honestly quite surprised at how different the various brands were. And the nice thing is that it's mostly served in 200 ml glasses. I wish North American bars served beer in this size.

Cold Kölsch with a hot date.

Owing to the heat, we had supper in the apartment fairly late and then went to look at the Cathedral, the other must-do on my checklist. What an amazing space. Especially after seeing pictures of the city after World War II. The only other churches I've been in that compare are Barcelona's Sagrada Familia (which I think may be even bigger in footprint) and the cathedral in St. Louis, which is probably half to 2/3's this size, but still huge by North American standards. In any case, my poor little iPhone camera was no match for a building this size.

Cologne Cathedral

Cologne Cathedral

Tomorrow, we take the train again, this time to Emmerich, near the border with Holland, where we will get back on the bikes again to start week 3 of the trip.

Heidelberg (Stairway to Heaven)

I'm glad we're taking the train to Cologne tomorrow, 'cause I wouldn't want to get on my bike tomorrow (other than the few kilometres to get to the train station). It was another long day – a great day – but I'm tired now, thanks. I think it's time for another beer, don't mind if I do. 

The forecast was for another hot day, so we decided to head up to the hills again, and this time, the smart money said we should just stay up there all afternoon. We started a little late, but were out the door by 9:30, destination: Königstuhl (king's chair, or king's seat), the hill on the city side of Heidelberg, opposite the Heiligenberg that we climbed yesterday. While yesterday's hike was up to 440 metres, today, we ascended to 567 metres, and believe me, my legs are feeling the extra 127 metres.

There are so many paths and trails up the mountain that we didn't really have any fixed route planned. So when we came across a sturdy stone staircase, we decided that it looked to be the most expedient way up the mountain. While that may be true, it is definitely not the easiest way. Indeed, I learned today that climbing stairs is not a terribly efficient way for the human body to ascend a slope. 

The stairway we encountered was called the Himmelsleiter (literally, "heaven's ladder," but I'm going to call it "stairway to heaven," which is more poetic and accurate. Sorry for the ear worm.).  As far as I can tell, it was built in the 19th century. The stairway ascends 260 metres vertically and 700 metres horizontally, which, according to my calculations, makes an average grade of 37%. Basically, after the first 5 minutes, we stopped for a rest every 50 steps, or about 10 metres. By the time we got half way, my shirt was so wet that I could literally wring the sweat out of it. We considered peeling off to take one of the many switchbacking side roads, but Sonia's a gamer, and so after a solid rest we decided to keep going. Thankfully, the slope eased off a little toward the top, and we also discovered that walking beside the steps was MUCH easier. Turns out, the achilles tendon is a pretty good spring. In the end, we climbed the whole thing. High-fives were definitely in order!

Only 200 vertical metres left to go!

Our initial goal was to get to a falconry centre at the top (with a website worthy of the 90s), which was advertising a show at 11:30. As we ascended, we figured there was no way we'd make it, but in the end, we made it just in time. Which was fortunate, because it was a wonderful show. I was thoroughly entertained, even though the whole thing was in German. There were 2 or 3 school groups there, and it was so nice to see a great educator doing what she does best. The kids were absolutely rapt (that's a pun, in case you were wondering).

After the show, we wandered around the summit a bit and then had lunch. The view from the top, west across the Rhine flatlands is spectacular. We spoke to an older women while we were having lunch, and she quipped that the Himmelsleiter might be better called Teufelsleiter (Devil's ladder). I had to agree. 

The view from Königstuhl

Then we trundled back down to the castle gardens, found a nice patch of lawn under a big tree and just hung out for a few hours, dozing and reading for the rest of the afternoon, before returning to the apartment for supper.  

Tomorrow, we're taking the early train to Cologne. 

Heidelberg, Part the hot

I'm melting!

Today was a hot day. As I write this, it's 8:30 p.m. and the temperature has dipped to a cool 31C. Good thing we got most of our exercise in before noon. 

We were out of the apartment by 8:20 a.m., intent on hiking up the Heiligenberg, one of the hills overlooking Heidelberg.  The walk featured a stroll along the Philosophenweg (or philosophers' walk), where the city's early academics and philosophers would walk and talk. As we climbed, we came across several nice monuments and lookouts. 

View of the city from the Philosophenweg

But our goal was the historical monuments near the top. The first were the ruins of a small monastery (St. Stephen's), built in the 11th century, with much later tower alongside that was built partially from the ruins of the monastery. 

At the top were the ruins of another 11th century monastery, this one much larger – called St. Michael's – built on the site of a former Roman temple, the vestiges of which are still visible. There are also apparently traces of old Celtic fortifications dating back much earlier than this even, but we couldn't find these. 

St. Michael's monastery

On the slope between the two monasteries is the Thingstätte, an open-air amphitheatre built by the Nazis as part of their short-lived Thingspiel movement. This site was opened in June 1935, and apparently Joseph Goebbels spoke at the inauguration. There was no effort to hide this site, but I found it interesting that there were signs for the monasteries but no directions pointing explicitly to the Thingstätte, and only a few signs explaining its history in German only, whereas other panels explained the area's history extensively in both German and English. One can only assume that this monument is not something the region is particularly proud of, especially given Heidelberg's history as a former Nazi stronghold. 

The Thingstätte

Anyway, it was all quite fascinating. We considered walking further around the hillside, but as it was already getting warm, we decided to head back down into the city. In retrospect, it might have been better had we stayed in the woods a little longer. 

Back in the Altstadt, we found the Heiliggeistkirche open and so wandered in and had a look around. We also noted that there would be an organ concert later that afternoon, which we attended. The program included Bach's Prelude and Fugue in C minor, a Mendelssohn organ sonata, and a work by the organist. It wasn't the concert of the century (and several of the organ ranks were quite out of tune with each other), but it was fun to hear Bach in a German church for the first time.

The lovely but somewhat spare interior of the Heiliggeistkirche

Then it was home for supper. Sonia tried to drag me out to do some shopping, but my viking blood is just not suited to this heat, so I'm staying inside where it's relatively cool and calm. 

It's a similar forecast for tomorrow, and we still haven't decided on what we'll do to beat the heat. 

Heidelberg, Part the 1st

We got off to a fairly early start this morning owing to the fact that our bedroom in the Airbnb did not have shutters, and in northern Europe around the summer solstice, the sun rises at something like 5:30. We were on our bikes headed for the train station by 9.

We got tickets to Heidelberg for ourselves and our bikes on the 10:14 train, with a transfer in Ludwigshafen, across the Rhine from Mannheim, to a local commuter train into Heidelberg central station. Good thing we got on when we did, because at the first stop in Mannheim, the train filled to the brim, and many people with bicycles weren't able to board. Luckily, it was only 3 stops in the sardine can.

Bikes on a train!

The ticket agent in Mainz suggested that if we wanted to reserve a spot for our bicycles on our next trip (to Cologne), we should do so earlier rather than later, so once we got into Heidelberg Hbf, we bought tickets on the direct train to Cologne on Thursday and reserved spots for our bikes. It will be an early start (7:55 a.m.), but at least we won't have to worry about whether there will be room for them on a regional train, and we will get into Cologne with lots of time to do some sight seeing (which, for me, means seeing the cathedral and drinking Kölsch, not necessarily in that order).

Once out of the station, we had a picnic lunch in a nearby park before setting off to look around a bit. Today was hot (and the forecast is for even hotter in the coming days).  Heidelberg is, very obviously, a university town. It's teeming with young students, most of whom apparently spend Monday afternoons zooming around on bicycles.

After walking our bikes down Hauptstraße (i.e., Main Street) for a few blocks, we decided to get off the main drag and visit the Neckar (the city's river), 'cause, y'know, we hadn't quite seen enough of Germany's rivers yet...

Then it was back into town for a gelato (one of Sonia's birthday treats). And can I just say here for the record that German coffee ice cream is just as mystifying as German coffee...

Birthday gelato for Sonia

At 3 p.m., we got into our Airbnb, a lovely little 2-room apartment (with a washing machine!) on a quiet street in the Altstade, a few blocks down from the university library. We started some laundry, settled in and then went to find some groceries (home cooking for 3 whole days!).

After dinner, we took the funicular up to Heidelberg Castle, which is truly impressive. It's in ruins, but no so much so that you don't get a great idea of what the place must have been like 400 years ago. The 17th century was very good to a certain class of people! Also, it's just one great photo op after another, especially with the evening light.

Heidelberg Castle

Heidelberg Castle from the castle gardens

View of the city from the castle (with Heiliggeistkirche in the middle)

We walked back down the hill into town and into the main Marktplatz, which is dominated by the Heiliggeistkirche (Church of the Holy Spirit), a space I hope to get inside before we leave. Here, Sonia had another birthday treat, a piece of almond tarte, and we had drinks in the square.

Sonia enjoying another birthday treat

As we strolled back home, one of those magical holiday moments occurred. Just as we were walking past another lovely church (Jesuitenkirche), we heard a very good choir (probably amateur) from down a side street, practicing with the windows open. Among other things, they were singing "For Unto Us a Child is Born" from Handel's Messiah. It seems a bit early in the year to be rehearsing Messiah, but it was a lovely treat to hear some fine singing. After listening for a while, we continued on, and I guess Monday night is choir night, because we came across another choir rehearsing – not quite as good as the first (but still quite good). They were singing "Cantique de Jean Racine" by Fauré – very familiar to Québec choral audiences.

So a full first day in Heidelberg. Tomorrow we will be up early to hike in the hills before it gets too hot!

Mainz

Today was the first cycling on the Rhine that could rival the Moselle. Good thing it was lovely, because it was a pretty long day.

We got off to a fairly early start, knowing that the day would be quite warm. The first 10 km or so were disappointing, with the path mostly along the highway, like yesterday. But as the Rhine valley began to widen, the highway routed more inland, while the bike path stuck to the river, and we began to wind through some very beautiful countryside, with castles dotting the hillsides.

A castle in the Rhine and one above it.

We stopped in Bingen for the requisite mid-morning coffee and snack. It's another very pretty town, though on a Sunday morning, it was much quieter than Boppard yesterday. As we rode out, we could see the vestiges of the old town walls, still in relatively good shape.

Town walls in Bingen

As the valley widened even further, the path took us through some lovely rolling farmland and parks that reminded me quite a lot of Quebec, especially since there are some islands in the Rhine here, much like the St. Lawrence at Montreal.

Sonia reads up on controlled flooding in this part of the valley.

A field red with poppies.

After a long lunch break, we set off on the final 15 km or so and rolled into Mainz about 3:00. In all, we did a solid 62 km today (mostly into a slight headwind). A lovely but long day in the saddle. We settled into the Airbnb, had a shower and a rest and then went out explore Mainz and find our supper. The old town is quite lovely and very well-kept.

Mainz Cathedral

Mainz is famous for, among other things, being the birthplace of Johannes Gutenberg, and there is a museum in his honour not 200 metres from where we are staying. Alas it was closed by the time we got there. The city is also, as my friend Douglas reminds me, the home of the Alexander brass instrument workshop, famous for their horns and tubas.

The two nights we were in Cochem, there was a wine festival across the river from our apartment, with music going until midnight both nights. Last night in Sankt Goar, we fell asleep to the sound (dare I say "noise") of a rock concert at the Loreley Freilichtbühne, an outdoor amphitheatre that was right across the river and about 100 metres above our hotel. Tonight, we're being serenaded by a couple of quite good guitarists singing oldies from the 60s in the courtyard below. It's a refreshing change (though silence would be even more refreshing... and get off my lawn you young punks!)

Tomorrow morning, we're heading straight to the train station and from there, south to Heidelberg. So this will be all of Mainz for us.