Monday, 2nd June
Only one week until you all get to see my, not ugly, but a bit greasy, oddly-coloured, not-very-well-cared-for face. Lucky you!!

This morning I left the castle, surprisingly quite sad and feeling highly disloyal for all the thoughs I had had about “middle of nowhere” and “no one there”. Perhaps it was a good time to leave, thought. There were two new groups at breakfast this morning: some rowdy primary school children, and almost equally as rowdy group of mentally handicapped people.

So, my path leads northwards to Köln (Cologne). You know, I wish I could fill up these last few days with even more interesting encounters, intense bouts of worthwhile sightseeing, and just a general last-minute passion for travelling. But I cannot. The best has come and gone! You will all have to let it come to this straggling thread of an end with me languishing in a hostel, blithely scrawling some lesser-quality observations.

But it would be a lie to say I spent all day doing nothing. I did a lot of shopping, mostly window, in fact I’d say 99% window, though I did buy one thing. The extra weight could be a problem, I know, but I am being more generous in using my toothpaste and shampoo to try and tip the balance. This was something totally frivolous and for me, but I won’t say what it is as it will be on my person when I get back. Oh now I’ve made it sound like something cool, something interesting, like a septum piercing or a tattoo of the Russian national ballet on the tip of my forefinger, but it isn’t.

I also went to visit the Kölner Dom, or cathedral of Cologne. I don’t know if this is the biggest cathedral in the world but I think it is the biggest catheral I’ve ever seen! Another striking factor, aside from its size, is its intricate gothic design. How about that, a religious building which interests me! Its twin spires must be recognisable even to people who think they have never seen them; I certainly felt as though I had seen them before. The cathedral is a real confusion of time periods: not in appearance, the whole thing is gothic, but once you learn the history. It was started in 1248, but building was suspended after only one part was completed and half of another; the cathedral stood like this for about two hundred years. Eventually, in the 19th century, it was completed. Halfway through this process the Germans realised that the gothic style wasn’t theirs, as they had assumed, but French. How could they build n the style of their enemies? They justified it by saying that the French were under German rule when they invented the style … riiiiight(!)

The cathedral was built because supposedly Cologne was said to own the bones of the magi, or three wise men. I have seen the box they are supposed to be in … apparently it is like a Russian doll and inside there are smaller and smaller boxes, until finally each set of bones lies in its own box, covered by some Syrian material.

The tour guide was an art historian, and I asked him why, in older paintings, “baby” Jesus looks like a little man. His answer was quite long so I won’t relate it all here, but I will tell anyone who is curious. It’s all to do with the interpretation of the meaning of the painting rather than any aesthetic fashion, despite being an aesthetic trend in itself … I am confusing myself now.

Behind the Dom is a modern bridge which goes over the Rhine. From the other side you get a great view of the cityscape, so I went across to take some photos. A lone grey cloud sat above the bridge and rained on me, whch was a great relief rather than a cartoon-esque misfortune, as it was 30°C! Has it ever even been 30° in England??

Tuesday, 3rd June
I stayed up until four am this morning, NOT drinking may I add (although I did have one JD and coke in can, to test my caffeine theory and to have the novelty of drinking JD and coke out of a can), but hanging out with the others from the hostel, some of whom were getting very drunk indeed. It was quite fun but as per usual, the evening turned to debate, and instead of discussing interesting subjects like politics, current social change, etc, the topics were things like capital puinishment, vegetarianism, things which nobody learned from and everybody spits out hackneyed arguments. My attention was only piqued when a British guy started on the English class system in university applications. Well, you can imagine what I thought about that! One Texan girl was actually putting forward arguments for these circular subjects, and I agreed with almost every word she was saying. Funny how things can change though, as this morning I heard her boasting to her friend how she “ran round the guys in circles”. I always think that if a person puts themselves up for real responsibility, they can come in for this kind of criticism. But isn’t there some kind of respect etiquette in a talk like this? Is it just me who separates a person debating and a person you want to have a good (albeit mindless) time with? I don’t know … Stephen Fry says it better than I can:

I was warned many, many years ago by the great Jonathan Lynn, co-creator of Yes Minister and director of the comic masterpiece My Cousin Vinnie, that Americans are not raised in a tradition of debate and that the adversarial ferocity common around a dinner table in Britain is more or less unheard of in America. When Jonathan first went to live in LA he couldn’t understand the terrible silences that would fall when he trashed an statement he disagreed with and said something like “yes, but that’s just arrant nonsense, isn’t it? It doesn’t make sense. It’s self-contradictory.” To a Briton pointing out that something is nonsense, rubbish, tosh or logically impossible in its own terms is not an attack on the person saying it – it’s often no more than a salvo in what one hopes might become an enjoyable intellectual tussle. Jonathan soon found that most Americans responded with offence, hurt or anger to this order of cut and thrust. Yes, one hesitates ever to make generalizations, but let’s be honest the cultures are different, if they weren’t how much poorer the world would be and Americans really don’t seem to be very good at or very used to the idea of a good no-holds barred verbal scrap. I’m not talking about inter-family ‘discussions’ here, I don’t doubt that within American families and amongst close friends, all kinds of liveliness and hoo-hah is possible, I’m talking about what for good or ill one might as well call dinner-party conversation. Disagreement and energetic debate appears to leave a loud smell in the air.

This blog may now be more Stephen Fry than me. Anyway, I thought that one of the aforementioned guys was actually very decent and sincere, he just had a problem with recognising that there were people who viewed the ethics of murder in a completely different, and worse, light.

Away from all this people analysis, when I got up this morning I headed back to the Dom. One important thing I had forgotten to do yesterday was to climb one of the towers - all 500 steps of it. It was a task that wasn’t as rewarding as I had been assured, as all the way up to the top the walls were covered in unoriginal graffiti, and at the very top, the view was obscured by chicken wire which completely enclosed all the visitors. Still, I got some great photos by poking the camera through the wire.

In the afternoon I turned up to do a bike tour, only to find out that I was the sole soul eager to pedal their way around the city. Most other places would have just cancelled the tour, but instead I got a private tour - and it was with a genuine Kölner! I made that word up. It may or may not mean “resident of Cologne” in German, but that is what I intend it to. Iskander was really friendly if a bit hesitant with his information. I may have spent more time chatting to him than gleaning historical facts and legends. Some of the tour was a repeat, like the Dom area, but there were some new highlights. Unfortunately I have no write up so my memory may be sketchy, but I’ll try my best to remember. I saw the Roman tower, a squat but nicely decoratd bit of old Roman wall. I also saw one of the twelve Romanesque churches (one will be enough, I think), called St. Gereon, which was made interesting by its 20th century stained glass windows, and central decagonal dome. I think I actually preferred its interior to that of the Dom. I met two new characters, whose named have cruelly and sneakily escaped me, but were two stereotypes of Cologne residents immortalised in statues in the corner of a leafy courtyard. One may have been called Shärl … One was the honest, “down to earth”, hardworking medieval man. One was a 19th century businesman. Touching one’s nose means luck concerning your character, and the other’s means luck in business. I learned a little of the history, and was surprised at the lack of Nazi involvement, but I am not optimistic enough to think that Cologne was an exception. I think this might have just been one of the failings of Iskander. Finally I sampled some Kölsch, the local beer (Kölsch is also the name of the dialect but fortunately that hasn’t been so common), which I liked because it contained less carbon dioxide and is easier to drink. Ben reliably assures me that two beers of this kind (not Kölsch though) have just been released in the UK. Prost!

Wednesday, 4th June
Some things I forgot to mention: in various places in Cologne you see the letters CCAA. They stand for Cologne itself, as it is an acronym of the city’s Latin name, which I can’t remember exactly… something like colonus claudius ara agrippina. Catchy. Also, the Dom might be black and grey today (thanks mostly to surface algae), but in the middle ages when its plans were made, they preferred a much more colourful decor, evidenced by traces of orange paint found on the outside. On the outside! I reckon the Dom looks good as it is, but other supposedly exciting churches and cathedrals could go a bit brighter. The walls outside the Vatican would be a prime spot for some decent graffiti.

I am lazy lazy lazy today. Stayed up again last night and had a much better time, nobody taking themselves too seriously. British guy ran through his anecdotes for the benefit of all the new people, but they were fairly good (I’m sure I’ll pass some on) and the level of repetition was quite funny in itself. I met a guy who is four months into a trip which he aims to make last at least two years. Madness. Somehow he is living out of an ordinary sized backpack too. How??

Today all I did was go to the Roman-German Museum, next to the Dom. The “Germanisches” in the name refers to the tribes which lived in this area in Roman times, and not the Germany we know today. This was really interesting as I spent year thirteen studying Tacitus’ account of the mutinies in the Roman troops in Germany. They were also under the command of Germanicus, so named because of his successes in battle in the region. I was surprised at how little he featured in the museum, actually! I only saw one dedication with his name on it. Tacitus paints him as a popular man (although with hindsight, he did spawn Caligula). It was a good visit - Germany has an impressive amount of good Roman artefacts to offer - and was especially good in that it had the best quality tablets I have ever seen, which means fun translation. Wooo. Their two highlights are the Poblicius tomb and the Dionysus mosaic, which stand together near the entrance. The museum was actually built around the Dionysus mosaic, a large and well-preserved creation depicting scenettes of people having good times in the name of the god (which reminds me of a quick fact I saw at the Lorelei visitor’s centre… the region has always been an area for wine growing but apparently trade boomed after the area converted to Christianity…). The Poblicius tomb is … wow! It’s HUGE. I can only speculate as to why Poblicius, a veteran of the fifth division, would need such a monstrous creation. The decoration wasn’t at all ornate, but it was topped by some statues of Poblicius and his family. I mean … wow, the sheer vanity of it. More interesting than what people get today, though. Perhaps a special grave is compensation for not having a lasting legacy in any other form. I also liked the philosopher’s mosaic, which wasn’t as well preserved as Dionysus but was interesting for its representation of the thinking slebs of the ancients.

There are no words, rhymes, alliterations, phrases, cliches, unidentifiable throat noises or even wild ululations to describe how bloody impatient I am getting!

Thursday, 5th June
Oh, I have been terrible. I had such fun last night and stayed up far too late again. Feel all right today but really tired … I couldn’t keep my eyes open on the way here.

As per usual I begin with my omissions - just a couple of memory holes to fill in. On my bike tour, the owner of the company was extremely excited to tell me about “bike 62″ (which I was to cycle). Apparently, bike 62 has had the honour of being ridden by Paul McCartney when he dropped in for a concert. I almost didn’t take it. I had to present to be impressed … but some people might find that interesting. Also, I heard one of the most unusual accents I’ve ever come across. I walked into the city with a girl from the hostel, who was originally from Latvia with Russian as her mother tongue, but had been studying in Scotland for some time and had really picked that up. It was very bizarre that the two accents could be heard quite distinctly in the same sentence. Not especially pleasant but v. unusual.

I chickened out of camping at Rock am Ring, so I am in a hotel for my last few days (probably … there is a chance I could end up stranded at the festival but I’m just blindly hoping that doesn’t happen at the moment). For only €40 this place is really, really nice! It meant that I had an extra day today to walk around in Koblenz, which is nice but not a patch on the lower Romantic Rhine area. The best thing I saw was a fountain depicting several phases of Koblenz’s history. They also have the Deutsches Eck (German Corner), the part of the river where the Rhine and Mosel meet.

So this will be my final post from overseas. The travel blog is coming to a close! If you have been reading, thank you very much, and I hope I wrote something interesting, informative or funny along the way. That people should be curious about my exploits, even temporarily, is very flattering and much appreciated. So once again thank you, and goodbye - or should that be hello?

You won’t be able to see the pun in the title because of my trendy coding, but this entry is called tOWer.

Saturday, 31st May
And so, nine days before I come home, I begin the penultimate entry in what has been rather a long travel diary. For although I have eight days left in which I will be seeing Germany, the last four will be at the Rock am Ring music festival and I don’t think enough people share my musical interests to warrant detailed a detailed account. I would love to stick it out until the bitter end, but it would be difficult to write there, and how many of you really care if Metallica play “One” or not? Perhaps I will do a review afterwards.

Today I went on a day tripi to a place just down the river called St Goar (Go-ah not gore) and its smaller twin town directly across the water, St Goarhausen. I didn’t get to do as much in St Goar as I’d hoped because I spent so long in St Goarhausen but I was able to get a good view of the castle, Burg Rheinfels. I also saw the church there which was extremely similar to that in Bacharach. About the castles, there seems to be tens and tens of them on this stretch of the Rhine! Castles popping up every kilometre! St Goarhausen is tiny but it still manages to accommodate two. The smaller and older was originally named Peterseck and was built by the archbishop of Trier to counter Count Dieter’s toll practices. In response, the count built a bigger one named Castle Cat, and thus the original is now known as Castle Mouse. I wish, I really really wish it had been known as Castle Mouse originally, and the Count had said to himself, “ha! I know what I’ll name my new castle!”.

St Goarhausen is dominated by a large outcrop of slate, which is known as the Lorelei. I’ve just described it in the least romantic fashion possible. Its name comes from a legend, in which a beautiful maiden (the Lorelei) or sometimes a witch sings enchanting songs from the edge of the rock, ensorcelling sailors and causing them to wreck their ships on the rocks. Sound familiar? The middle Rhine was (less so now, due to modern technology) a treacherous place to sail, which is probably why the legend sprung up. In past times, some captains even ordered their crews to pray when passing through this stretch of water. I climbed all the way to the top and you do get an amazing view, although today it was marred by mist and cloud. It was also tipping it down, but I quite liked that.

Five minutes down the hill is the Lorelei visitors’ centre, which shows an excellent film about the UNESCO area of the Rhine Valley. I got very excited because it was in 3D… There was no text or voiceover, just images of the area put to music. It was nice to see it in sunshine. We’ve been having thunderstorms here. The images of the “Rhein in Flammen” (Rhine in Flames) festival were breathtaking: the whole area is lit up by masses of fireworks on various days in different villages. Also in the centre they had an explanation of how the Lorelei came to exist (the rocks, that is), information about local flora and fauna, the wine trade and seamanship. Is that a word? Never mind. The real reason for the Rhine Valley is all to do with tectonic plates and weak fault lines, but the legend is more interesting, as ever. The Devil had heard that God (or was it Slartibartfast?) was going to design a beautiful river valley here. He did not want this, so shortly after it was begun, he clung onto the sides to try and prevent them from parting further. He failed, of course, but from an aerial view his teeth and claw marks can still be seen.

My last, but fairly long, walk, was along a thin strip of land jutting out into the sea and running parallel to St Goarshausen. Apart from being an unusual walk, at the very tip of it was a statue, erected in 1983 of a suggestively posed lady. No prizes for guessing who!

Sunday, 1st JUNE!
Ow, ow and thrice OW. Once again I write to you in a state of what can only be described as … well mild agony really, with overreaction, due to overexertion. I spent five hours away from the castle today, and four of them I was cycling! You see, this is the reason I chose to stay in Bacharach of all the Rhine towns: it was said to be the start of the best stretch of cycle path along the river. And yes, it was a great treat for my eyes, but less so for my bum! I feel like I’ve been paddled or something - not, of course, that I really know what that feels like. Possibly it wasn’t the bike saddle which caused this and I have been unknowingly initiated into some kind of sorority. Tomorrow I will wake up in a pit with something shouting at me, “woohoo! Welcome to Kappa Delta Phi, sister!”.

The first route I took was south fromo Bacharach to Bingen. Most of this route was directly alongside the river, so whenever the trees parted - and this was fairly frequently - I got an astonishing view of the valley. The path was also fairly flat and even, so despite my whinging about aches and pains, I didn’t have to do too much leg work, which was also good because I only had three gears. There was also only one brake on the handlebars, the other one was used by pushing the pedals backwards. Quite cool, but more annoying not to have the ability to backpedal.

I only stopped to have a drink in Bingen because there isn’t much to do there, and then I was on my way back again. The whole cycle had taken me a lot less time than I had anticipated, so I had to find something to do for a few hours. What do I decide to do? Only start cycling again, this time in the other direction! At first I thought, “I’ll just cycle for half an hour then turn around”, but somewhere in this magic time limit I saw a sign indicating that it was only a few kilometres to Oberwesel, so I carried on to there. And when I got to Oberwesel, I saw that it was only a few kilometres to St Goar, and I thought it would be cool to see the Lorelei again, so that is where I ended up. On the cycle back, with the wind in my face, I could only laugh at myself.

It got quite sunny this afternoon, which was great because I actually managed to get some good photos! Up until now the skies have been overcast, but it looks like we’ll get a little respite. I say a little because it is forecast to rain over the Rock am Ring weekend … crap.

Near to the Bacharach-Bingen cycle route, there were some allotments and private gardens, and a few times I caught the smell of a wood fire. My favourite smell … now I’m hungry for a fire. I’m also just hungry.

And lastly: they have put me in the tower. That’s right, you make one idle joke about “launch an attack” here, and that’s it! Game over! Or it may be the case that on the first floor of the tower is a dorm in a circular room, that I was moved to today. Whichever…

Wednesday, 28th May
I am sooooo shattered at the moment! Every muscle in my arms and legs aches, but in a satisfying rather than just painful way. But I will start at the beginning.

First thing this morning I fled the tyranny of Sunshine Accommodation. Never got my money back … don’t really care … Arrived in Heidelberg at Mittag (midday) after a series of bus train train bus. Here I am staying in Pension Jeske, which is like a B&B, without the second B. I couldn’t have got more central accommodation unless I pitched up camp in the market square itself so I am very pleased with that. The owner is really nice, shook my hand an introduced himself by his first name. The house is 250 years old and has been decorated really well, with flowers all over the place. Unfortunately this professionalism makes it feel less authentically ancient than Das Lädle in Rothenburg, but I must admit that my midnight-blue bed here is nicer. Martin (the owner) also gave me a map as soon as I arrived here, which I nearly refused (I already have one) until he began drawing me out an itinerary on it! The plan looked so good that I took it.

First I went to the Schloss (castle). To get there, there is a path especially for pedestrians which leads up a hill - my first hill of the day - almost straight to the castle entrance. I realised that without a tour I wouldn’t know anything about what I was seeing, so I joined one as it was only 2 Euros. As it turned out, there were only two of us on the tour as well so I didn’t have to worry too much about not being able to hear the guide. The castle dates from the 1200s but has been ruined a couple of times and various new bits added on, most notably an ornate renaissance facade in the main courtyard which does NOT look like it should still be standing! The whole castle is red, as it is made out of red sandstone, as many things in Heidelberg are. The castle was most famous for its library, until the Vatican nicked all its books, some of which it still has. Those naughty Catholics. Elizabeth Stuart used to live here and for that reason there is an “English Tower”. Also, at some point, a monarch (I forget who) was a rather keen wine drinker and decided that the castle’s supply of wine was insufficient. Vastly insufficient. He ordered that a new Fass (vat) be constructed, and I’m serious, I fear that some poor workers lost their lives making this thing, because it is to vats what the Great Wall of China is to walls. It fills up an entire room and apparently holds more than 220,000L. I suppose they must have had a lot of parties … sucks for the beer drinkers. You can still do wine tasting today, but not from the giant vat: so, I ask, what is the point?

I also went to the Deutsches Apothekenmuseum (German Pharmacy Museum) because it was conveniently free, inside the castle, and ancient pharmaceutical traditions are actually really interesing - you know, all that “to cure a cold put a toad on your head and slap your own face with a rat’s tail*” stuff. I actually came across some of it recently when I was reading Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales (late 14th century). In the Knight’s Tale, someone gets a particularly nasty spear wound and their plight is described in detail. I think at that time they still believed in the four “humours” (blood, bile, and two other pleasant substances) which were supposed to be balanced within the body, and an imbalance was usually treated with laxatives or emetics. Anyway it was an interesting museum, despite all the crocodiles hanging from the ceilings. I thought it might offer a reason as to why there are pharmacies everywhere in Germany (if you go to a remote place with one shop, it won’t be a McDonalds, it’ll be a pharmacy) but no luck. Conversely, there is an Apothekengasse (Pharmacy Street) near me, without a single one on it.

A sign assured me it was 100m to the castle gardens, but whoever measured that must have been having a laugh because it was easily double that and uphill! The walk actually turned out to be better than the gardens, however, as it was through woodland and the garden was bare: not a single flower that I could see. There was a terrace though, with the most amazing city view that I have seen anywhere.

I walked back down the hill and crossed the Alte Brücke (come on, if you’ve been concentrating ’til now you’ll know what that means. Old bridge) which has some interesting things on it but I wasn’t paying proper attention so I’ll have to go back tomorrow. The north side leads straight onto an uphill path (*sob*) which is really taxing but I couldn’t complain too much as it was so picturesque: a twisting grey stone walkway covered by arching overhanging branches. This in turn led to Philosophenweg (Philosopher’s Way), a path with more panoramic city views, which leads through orchards and vineyards and was supposedly frequented by the philosopher Hegel. It is also a lovers’ haunt, but what is that to me …

Coming back I walked the length of the Hauptstraße (main street) because Martin said I would see the old entrance to the city but I must have missed it. Just briefly, because this is going to take me two years to type up, I also saw the sandstone Jesuit church down the road, the Heiliggeistkirche (Holy Ghost Church from 1398) in the Marktplatz and the Hercules fountain, next to the church, which is where criminals used to be chained to face the unmerciful public.

Thursday, 29th May
I woke up criminally late this morning - can only assumed I was catching up after exhausting myself yesterday. I had toyed with the idea of visiting the medical centre about my ears but it’s really far away so I think I will ask about it in Bacharach instead.

My first visitng today was to the Heidelberg university museum. There has been a university here since 138 and was founded by Count Palatinate Ruprecht I. It was explained to me yesterday what the Palatinate was and the importance of Prince-electors, but I can’t remember with enough fidelity to be able to put it on paper. The universitätplatz where the main buildings of the old part of the university are, is right in the middle of town and is a huge square which is still full of students. The museum was all right, but didn’t really sell the university. You would think that with over six hundred years of history they would have some interesting events an alumni, but instead I was just left with the feeling that for several hundred years Heidelberg university was actually A Bit Rubbish. It does, however, have one interesting aspect which is certainly sold to tourists, and that is the student Karzer (prison). This was housed just behind the main university buildings (or in front, depending where you are standing … adjacent in any case). This ran from 1778 to 1914, and was used to bang up disobedient students. Entrance is 3 Euros for adults, 2.50 for children, and free for students … muahahaha …

… I joke, I joke. I am still free, Mum and Dad. No bail necessary. Unfortunately it’s not free for students either, and of course now nobody gets imprisoned there (although it was a tourist attraction when there were still “inmates”!). Students were locked up mostly for petty crimes (I just accidentally wrote petting, and I’m sure they were were actually an offence) involving getting drunk and rowdy (if they did that in unis today they’d need a hell of a lot more room than Heidelberg had), getting naked and jumping in the town fountain, chasing animals through the streets, etc, etc. Women were never punished in this way. The place is really grim, and it looked like a draconian measure, but in actual fact it was more of a frat boy rite of passage. As time went on, respect for the guard - I forget the German term - diminished, even though disrespect could earn you a longer sentence. But who cares about a longer sentence when, despite two days of bread and water, you could pay, or get your friends to bring good meals in, bring your own bedding, walk around the other cells, have outside visitors, play games, drink alcohol … You had to pay for things you used, like fuel, which is why it was richer students who ended up abusing it. The most interesting thing is the graffiti which covers every inch of the walls, ceilings, tables, chairs. Names and dates, poetry, and a great number of silhouettes.

After this I went to the Kurpfälzisches Museum, which was not as good as I was hoping it would be. Most of its content was art, and much of that was portraits of the old upper classes and scenes of Italy, which apparently was a big theme with the German Romantics. There was one good painting of the old court jester, Perkeo (or Pekeo?) with a baboon. There is a model of him by the great vat, and apparently his name translated as “why not?”. You add it up.

I was then very bad and bought myself three books which I have neither the money for nor the strength to carry. What can I say? Henry James was doing my head in!

Went back to the Alte Brücke to trz and find the statues which are described in my guide, but just couldn’t see either of them! Before you think it, I definitely was on the right bridge! It is undergoing a lot of renovation work at the moment so perhaps they have been removed or buried under the scaffolding.

Friday, 30th May
So, the grand count down begins! TEN…

It doesn’t work so well when you are counting in days, not seconds.

There are always advantages to being in a place popular with tourists, and the best of those came this morning in Heidelberg when I managed to find a breakfast buffet with fried eggs, and I had a sandwich. Mmm. They also had baked beans, but no toaster for the bread. Der.

Shortly afterwards I left and got on a train to Bacharach, a small town - perhaps even a village - on the Romantic Rhine. I’m not trying to be alliteratively clever there; there is a stretch of the river with several towns which is called “Romantic”. Despite the damage that a certain songwriting personality has done to the credibility of the name Bacharach, it does actually have an interesting etymolygy. It comes from the Roman god Bacchus, god of wine, women, and all that fun stuff. You’ve probably heard the term “bacchant” or “bacchanalianism”, and if you haven’t, look them up. So, Bacharach (also pronounced with the soft German ch’s at the back of the mouth) isn’t such a place for partying these days, if it ever was, in fact I was a bit concerned about my decision to come here for three days in case I ran out of things to do, but I think it will be fine.

My hostel is unique - even people who don’t stay in hostels seem to have come to this one, because it is a giant castle on a hill!! All right, maybe not a GIANT castle, but it’s definitely authentic. It was turned into a youth hostel in 1925. The only problem is getting to it, as it’s a fifteen minute uphill walk, but as I keep saying, I need the exercise so I can’t complain! On the way to the castle are the ruins of the Wernerkapelle (Werner Chapel), which are now a very tiny open air concert venue. The castle (named Burg Stahleck) is also part of the old city walls, which I walked the length of this afternoon. All in all, I have walked up that damn hill three times, and if I go to the Internet cafe (…yep), it will be four! (and looking forward to it…)

At the bottom of the hill, on the main street, is Peterskirche (St. Peter’s Church), which is interesting because it smells like biscuits. It also has some bizarre capitals (decorations at the top of the columns). They looked partly like gargoyles, and partly like something you would see for 3 pounds at a car boot sale - mind you, you can get some pretty good stuff for three pounds at a car boot. Eve’s knees were around her ears, and there was a woman with snakes biting on her breasts. Good old adulteresses. I want to know who was responsible for them and why!

And that’s really all there is to it here, apart from the picturesque half-timbered houses along the main street. I got some other things done, like trying to go to the doctor (he works two hours a day and not weekends; how does he make his money?) and bought some stuff for my ears at one of the several Apotheken. Sent a letter to Ben and did some present browsing. One of the pharmacies here is called the “Bacchus Apotheke”. I wonder if they specialise in hangover cures?

Sunday, 25th May
I enjoyed my posh hotel, but was looking forward to coming back to a hostel, as I’ve been on my own since Rothenburg. But guess what … I’m b***** by myself again!!! I can’t believe it, I was SURE there would be someone else here, as hostels in Baden-Baden are very scarce. This isn’t even really a hostel - there are six beds in the room but also a TV and a small kitchen, so it’s really like an apartment for lots of people. Never mind, I will just allow CNN to increase my ever improving knowledge of the American election.

The room smells a bit funny, a horrible post-smoke, headache-inducing thing, but the rest of Baden Baden is actually lovely and fragrant. I arrived at eleven but the tourist office didn’t open until the inexplicable hour of 2pm, so the first three hours I spent here were true aimless wanderings. The tourist office itself was actually in a very striking building, so I spent some time looking around the columns and the paintings of various sea-maidens and swarthy men on horseback. It is called the “Trinkhalle” so I can only assume it was a drinking-hall in previous times. From here I meant to go back to Sunshine Accommodation (everything is yellow!) but somehow ended up on a path called Lichtentaler Allee, which was so nice that I walked down about 1km of it until I got ditracted by something else. My guides call it a park, but if it is, it’s the Mr. Tall of public areas of greenery. Very long and thin, with a river running alongside. The thing I got distracted by was a rose garden, designed apparently in an art nouveau style. To those of us without art qualifications, that means lots of square formations, hedges and some statues. I was most intrigued by a strange horse-fish. Do they have a mythical name? The roses were a tad disappointing as I was expecting masses of them and huge blocks of colour, but they were much more spread out. Still, they smelled looooovely. I’ve neglected smells a bit in this blog: you get mostly sights, some sounds, a few tastes but virtually no smells or touches. So there’s a bit of a catch up.

Went back along Lichtentaler Allee, and had a look at the Kurhaus. This is one popular tourist draw which I will not be experiencing, as it is a casino with an age limit of 21; not that I am at all interested in casinos anyway, frankly it is a boring way to gamble. Opposite is a little stage which I keep hoping will magic up some musicians! Then I spent quite a long time looking for a supermarket, not an exciting search but I got the chance to get to know the centre of town and I saw the most incongruous statue I’ve ever seen: a towering Otto Bismarck hugged on three sides by residential houses.

After admitting defeat re: the supermarket, I went to another rose garden which had the same disappointment but was on a hill, so I got a gorgeous city vista. Attempted to find a Romanian Orthodox Chapel, thought I got lost, but then stumbled upon it.

Someone is playing Die Toten Hosen really, really loud nearby. I might see them at Rock am Ring (depends on what is on at the other stages).

I just went to an asian restaurant and got my first ever fortune cookie. “Something is settled on its own.”

The irony. It hurts.

Monday, 26th May
It is my grandad’s birthday today. Happy birthday Grandad!

Still having random bouts of nausea, seem to have lost half the hearing in one of my ears, blah blah blah, won’t go on about it, but it is affecting my motication. I’m sure I will be fixable on my return home (which is in two weeks, by the way!).

Being late up this morning I only had time for a quick walk down to the very end of Lichtentaler Allee. Met several inquisitive dogs and one friendly Basset thwacked me on the leg with its tail. I took that to be a greeting from Ben’s dogs. Bassets have pretty sturdy tails you know…

Baden-Baden is very famous for something other than gambling and greenery, which is - if you hadn’t guessed from the name - the spas and baths. It is a bit like Bath in the UK, as it has been a site for baths ever since Roman times, and in German, Bad means bath. On my way back here, I found an amusing sign with a photo of Bill Clinton on it, quoting him as saying, “it’s so nice that they named it twice” (not just Reggae Reggae sauce then…). I bet he’s glad they picked that quote! Today I went to the Friedrichsbad and tried out their Roman-Irish baths. They are housed in what looks like a palace, built in 1877 almost on the exact site of the original Roman ones. The basic price is €21 for three hours (you can pay €5 extra for a massage, but I am so embarrassingly ticklish that massages are a risky endeavour) and they provide everything for you, such as towels and shoes. No swimming costume required.

You are led through a series of numbered rooms with various pools and saunas. They have suggested times but I didn’t stick to them exactly. I suppose the rooms must have been in that order for a particular reason but I think it could have been arranged better. It started out with saunas getting progressively hotter, and then pools getting colder. Doing a cold dip isn’t half as appealing when you have just come from a 28°C pool, so I snuck back into a sauna. It’s a very addictive sensation!

After you finish with the pools you go into a moisturising room, where you get the opportunity to smother yourself in expensive cremes, weigh yourself (need. gym.) and drink water. All the weight I lost in sweat was quickly replaced. Then you go into a “rest room” which reminded me of a nap room for toddlers, where a Friedrichsbad employee wraps you up like a piece of falafel in several soft blankets.

I just watched Bush’s Memorial Day speech. What a disgusting performance. Worse still, he seems to believe it. How can people ever claim that war is so simple? That the ground of Arlington cemetery is “watered” by the tears of grieving relatives and “nourished” by heroic soldiers. Disgusting. Deceitful, war mongering bastard. The soldiers deserve honesty, not just pro-war propaganda, not just what will save Mr Bush’s skin. Two soldiers, best friends, who liked to go into battle with American flags under their uniforms … well guess what, some bomb, some bullet, ripped through those flags.

Jesus Christ! There is report after report from a US point of view on the “soaring” (awful media cliche … actually heard someone say that “the gas prices are soaring higher than they have ever soared before”. Who writes it?) price of “gas”. They are paying the equivalent of 50p a litre!

Just heard Barack Obama coming out with the same “heroes” stuff. How to please America.

The news, politics; it makes me angry sometimes but I like to be engaged.

Tuesday, 27th May
I am so p***** off. Oh, I am p***** off. I’ll explain why before I talk about my good day.

Firstly my hearing is getting worse hour by hour. This is ridiculous. I’m nineteen. Secondly, I just got back from my day out to discover all my stuff gone. Every single thing. My bed sheets removed, my washing up put away, my clothes drying on the radiator gone, all my food disappeared. I checked in every cupboard but nothing. More than a little worried, I checked the noticeboard:

Ms Moore
Please call us
01736662525
Thank
We have a private room for you
Your luggage is in room 3B

Sounds great, right? Sounds considerate! No. Before I had arrived, I noticed that you were supposed to call half an hour before arrival. Very inconvenient for me, so I’d let them know I had no access to a phone. “Please call us”? Argh! Thankfully, they had already given me the safe number so I was able to get the key for room 3B. Inside, I saw my bag in a tiny room, with no TV, no bathroom, no kitchen, and a shower right next to the bed. I held back my anger - perhaps this wasn’t my room, perhaps my luggage was just being kept here … So I walked much too far to the nearest pay phone and phoned them. It was my room. So I said “no thanks”, and just as she was about to launch into an explanation of something, my money ran out. See how they like being inconvenienced. I mean seriously - there was milk in the fridge! How f****** stupid do you have to be to take milk out the fridge and just leave it? It’s really rude! I can’t believe they touched all my stuff! I still haven’t found my nice pen. The only thing my “new” room had that I wanted was a kettle. So I took it. The owners also still owe me €2 which they said would be left in my room (they are never around). I guess they are good at taking stuff away but not giving it. Feel free to call that number (remember the German code) and tell them please to keep their hands to themselves. *sarcastic smile*

Well whilst all this was happening, I was having a nice walk in the grassy area behind the “Bath Quarter”. I didn’t even care that I might be heading for deafness without even reaching twenty (which you might be able to tell is now upsetting me rather a lot). I found a giant chess set and some cool statues, and a park where I took some photos of me on the bars and a zooming chair-thing. A tiny zipwire.

In the afternoon I went to the Caracalla baths, which are owned by the same company who own Friedrichsbad, but are less posh. There was one main pool inside and two outside, but they were so bright I could only stay there for a few minutes. There were very hot and cold water pools and a Dampfsbad (steam room?) which was amazing; they were playing birdsong into it and it smelled of eucalyptus. Upstairs were three saunas (60°C, 85°C and 90°C - I went in all three) and a strange creation called the “Blue Room”, where you lay on a UV-lit “bed”, which played etherial synthesised music to you through inbuilt speakers whilst the bed vibrated in time. A unique experience. I felt like something being cultivated by an evil empire on Dr. Who. No ice showers but there was a bucket full of ice cold water which you could up-end on your head by pulling a chain, which was my favourite method of cooling down.

I just bought some really nice cheese called “Nusskäse” (nut cheese … yeah I know. I refer you to the title). Has anyone heard of this before? Does it exist in the UK?

Oh and I also saw another flower pot quote which was even cooler than Bill Clinton’s! Apparently Lionel Richie once said: “I will come back to Baden-Baden”. Is that a compliment or a warning?

Thursday, 22nd May
I’m out of action today, although this is the last day when I will allow myself to do no sightseeing. It’s just easy today as, due to a total lack of anywhere else to stay, I was forced to book a four star hotel in Freiburg! So whilst I have a big comfy chair, I am going to use it. I will also be calling people which I haven’t had a chance to do for ages.

There’s always something I forget to mention, and yesterday it was the squirrels. In the waterfall area of Triberg, the squirrels have somehow become unafraid of humans and you can even buy peanuts to feed them. I saw a couple but only from a distance. Apparently they can grow to 30cm which seems to me a pretty monster squirrel.

Another reason to stay inside at the moment is the horrible weather. From being hot and humid in Frankfurt just a week ago, it is now bleak, grey and cold. This did create a beautiful silvery mist over the hills in the Black Forest outside my window this morning, which I took a photo of, but not nice weather for walking around in. I really, REALLY hope it clears up for Rock am Ring!

Friday, 23rd May
I missed the tour this morning as I couldn’t wait until evening to ring Ben, but obviously the result was talking to my lovely which I haven’t been able to do for over a week! He also sent me the best e-mail I have ever received. So the tour had to wait.

Instead, I made my own way around the Western Altstadt, which unusually is fairly close to the train station (and my hotel). Starting out by my hotel, which is a fairly business-oriented characterless affair (not that I’m complaining, as they have provided me with more cm² of towel than I have skin) but is next to the Konzerthaus, which has some unusual sculptures outside of tornados. I’m not sure how the balance of weight works but I suppose that is the fascination of them!

On the edge of the altstadt is the university - now I’m not sure what the difference is between a town having a university and a university town, but Freiburg is the latter and is evidenced by having tons of young people everywhere. The university can’t be missed as it’s bright red - well, in the most: the quarter is filled with an eclectic selection of buildings which are (apparently) neo-gothic, art nouveau, and some obviously very modern. It reminded me of St. John’s though only in the principle and not how it actually looked (will use this point to once again say how excited I am about uni!).

Going north (you can really tell I’m getting the hang of maps now!) I found the town hall square, which was small but absolutely full of people! There was an event commemorating something I couldn’t translate from 1949, and soon after I arrived a newly married couple emerged from a church to a tattoo. Unorthodox. Freiburg has now stormed into first place for the city with the greatest number of town halls: they have the new town hall, the old town hall, and the really freaking old town hall. Their town square also houses a bit of leftover monastery (rebuilt after the original one was bombed in WWII) and the obligatory stern-looking-bloke fountain. Just down the road is the Haus zum Walfisch (House of the Whale) where the philosopher Erasmus von Rotterdam stayed after being exiled from Basel in 1529. What I found more interesting, though, were the gargoyles on the outside of the building.

Freiburg has two unusual and unique features of its old town, which are part of the streets themselves. The most obvious are the Bächle, flowing rivulets which run along many of the footpaths. They were originally part of a water delivery system but I’m not sure what they’re used for now! Tourist traps … supposedly if you fall into one you marry a Freiburger, or Freiburgerin. The streets also feature a number of mosaics, all similar-looking icons within circles, and place purposefully in front of different establishments. This is because they denote, or did denote, the trade of the person in the building. Some of them are obvious, for example a pretzel for a baker or scissors for a hairdresser, but I could’t even make out what some were meant to be! It was interesting to see where they have changed; I saw a pretzel outside a camera shop.

Both my head and the weather are doing much better! It has gone from freezing to boiling. I think that Germany may have been going through what is known as die drei Eisheiligen (the three ice saints), a short cold spell which happens annually in May.

Saturday, 24th May
The walking tour left over five minutes early today so I missed it, grr! So unfortunately I can’t bestow on you any information on the history of Freiburg, nor any more interesting traditions concerned with catching tourists in open drains. It was simply back to good old wandering.

There was something unusual happening in the town hall square when I arrived, involving many people in costumes and much playing of horns. This seems to be happening to me fairly frequently in Germany, although I was quite disappointed at the lack of a fire breather and knights, as there were in Munich. I actually got a little upset watching this, as they had some people on horseback, and due to the ringing bells, large crowd, horn-playing and excess of stuff put on their faces, some of the horses were becoming quite distressed. There is something particular about a distressed horse which can provoke quite profound sadness! Or perhaps I just read Black Beauty at too early an age. There were a lot of Ps in that sentence … There is a particular point pertaining to petrified and perturbed ponies which provokes a profound pain … enough of this semantic silliness on a serious subject.

I then went to see the Münster, which dominates the main market square, which in turn was absolutely packed with people (argh, it’s a disease). It has some interesting figures outside but I only knew what two of them were supposed to depict: voluptuousness and the devil. Voluptuousness looked almost anorexic next to Die Nanas statues I saw in Hanover. The main square holds yet more town houses and those baroque “gems” guide books always bang on about. The town gate was pretty cool though, and it is so large the two arches now have trams running through them. When they went under they looked like toy trains.

This afternoon I will be taking advantage of the swimming pool and sauna facilities in this hotel. It’s going to take a lot more effort to get me back in shape but I can pretend this will help!

There is a rather alarming noise coming from the vent in my room. V. concerned.

The Guardian’s crosswords are rubbish! I like reading the paper but the puzzle pages are frustrating. I can just about do medium sudoku but I haven’t yet finished a crossword. Partly because the clues are hard (I was proud to know “currency of Hungary”) but also because of the stupid wording. It took me a day to work out that “person running eating house” was not meant to evoke a marathon runner enjoying a gingerbread house, but a person WHO runs an eating house…

I am sad to report that once again I am ill (she says, munching on a soletti stick) - well all right, I still seem to be getting hungry which makes a nice change from my usual illnesses, but I am a bit dizzy and headachey. At least I’ll still be able to have some Schwarzwaldkircshtorte (Black Forest cake) tonight! Btw the last time I was “ill” it was a false alarm, so I don’t get ill that often. Anyway I’m not up to much movement so despite managing three hours of hiking this morning, I’d pretty much knocked myself out and came back early. Lots of rest for me - but not mental rest, thank you Guardian…

I’ve had the chant “trees grow tall in the heart of the forest” in my head all morning, because the heart of the Black Forest is where I am, and as I said, the trees do grow blinking tall. Most of the trees here are spruces, although everybody calls them pines, but if man had not interfered with this area apparently more beech trees would grow. In the more “natural” areas you can find elm, ash, and yew as well, if I remember rightly. I wish I’d had someone who knew which trees was which to point them all out to me. So many people on my mum’s side of the family are good at identifying birds, trees, flowers, etc, that I feel a bit of a fraud being rubbish at it. Once my Grandad pointed out a constellation to me and said could I see it? and I couldn’t but I didn’t want to seem stupid so I said yes … still wonder what it looks like! You’ll have to point out some others to me, Grandad.

As well as just aimless wandering I visited Germany’s highest waterfall, which really isn’t that high, but it’s nice to see. I think it’s about 160m tall and cascades in a series of, er … shelves is the word coming to mind. I hope everyone knows what I mean. You walk up a series of bridges and see each of them, as some are hidden if you just stand at the bottom and look up. I spent some time trying to get an arty photo of a snail, which I don’t think appreciated being told to “work the camera”, but came out fairly well in the end!

With the spare time, I’ve actually been able to get some practical things done, like washing my clothes, and my self, both of which really needed doing! I’ve got a good set up on a desk here, listening to the heaviest of metal, in front of a window with the most amazing forest view. So the world may occasionally turn on its side, but I’m content.

Sunday, 18th may
Wow! Many times wow! What a place it Rothenburg ob der Tauber! I’ve been flagging a little bit recently but despite clouds and a ridiculously disproportionate hangover (I think it was the caffeine thing as well) I couldn’t be miserable or impatient here. It’s like Bruges, but less touristy, more intimate. The ciry, as all medieval cities, is ovbiously a little bigger than it was in 100AD and much of it I won’t see, but the area I am in was the old city and is still inside the walls (some of which are original). It is meticulously restored and there are many restrictions on what residents can do to their properties, all of which has contributed to keeping the area looking beautiful and historic.

I took a short tour earlier, and whilst I saw a lot, it is hard to pinpoint different specific locations! I will try and remember the main points of interest. One of the first things I saw were some moving figures on the town hall depicting one man waving a stick, and one man drinking for quite some time. This is a reference to Rothenburg’s favourite town legend, concerned with the thiry years war. Rothenburg was a protestant town, but in 1631 General Tilly and 60,000 angry catholics besieged the town and were on the verge of destroying it and doing some widespread killing, until the mayor of the city came up with a plan. He felt that a three litre hug of Franconian wine might placate him a bit, but after a few sips Tilly had enough, although he said that if someone else could drink it he would leave Rothenburg as it was. So the mayor stepped up, and in one gulp downed the wine - and now to celebrate Rothenburg’s survival he does it several times a day!

Many of the old medieval hosues are half timbered, which means that there is a brick wall, with timber on both sides, then the outside is covered in plaster. In ye olde olden days, there were no bricks, but the residents used willow and also had to keep food in their walls, so in the event of being besieged they would have enough for a year. As for water, well there were secret water pipes running in from nearby springs, which no one kenw about except the mayor and two officials. What about the men who installed the pipes? They didn’t live much longer than it took to finish the job…

Many of the hosues had trees outside them, but there was this phenomenon of them growing very close to the walls, the branches spreading out like a leafy fan. I found out that these were pear trees, which have been put there since the middle ages, because the area is a bit marshy and the trees soak up all the water. They only have one root so it doesn’t disturb the foundations. A bit of a tedious explanation but it looks amazing!

I learned about an interesting mistranslation from the Bible which means that Moses is often depicted with horns … it looked really bizarre on a statue on a church here. Also that the name “James” translates as “Jakob” in German and so is frequently mistranslated as “Jacob”. Saw a courtyard which was the location of the home of nuns and young, unmarried women. Nearby is a tower - a tower with no ractical benefits, and a door on the outside of the walls. Essentially, it was built as a place for people to peek at the women.

If someone tells you “go to hell!” in Rothenburg, it is not an insult, it’s a good recommendation … the oldest house in the town is now better known as a wine bar and restaurant named “Höll” (hell)…

I walked down to the Doppelbrücke, a bridge just outside the walls. From here you get an amazing view of the city, but the bridge is also interesting because it was in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. However, you won’t see Rothenburg in the film because they put the bridge in the same scene as the Neuschwanstein castle in Füssen - Ludwig’s fairytale palace.

Oh, and there is a big picture of Jesus in my room. Weird.

Monday, 19th May
I had a rather strange start to the day this morning, as I was transported from sunny (well, that might be stretching the truth a bit) May to Christmas Eve. Rothenburg (pronounced ROW-ten-bourg) is home to Germany’s number one Christmas shop, and has several that are open year-round. At first I thought it was amazing, all fairylights and bells and thousands of toys and decorations, but then I looked at the prices … WHOA! Obviously this shop hasn’t had any qualms about increasing them with proportion to fame. I wanted to buy a few nutcrackers for people, but they were 20 Euros (the small ones) so I downgraded and looked at the smaller decorations, but the cheapest ones were still 5 Euros and they were rubbish. So it was gorgeous but a bit exploitative of my Christmas spirit!

Afer this I went to a museum on medieval crime and punishment. Like in Prague, the concentration on execution andtorture was heavy but this museum had a few aspects which made it the better of the two. There were more historical accounts to read/see. This included some interesting wood carvings of witches which I think highlighted how much things can change. The muscly, naked women depicting riding horses were no doubt intended to look dangerous and socially unacceptable, but to my ezes they looked strong and free. I was interested to learn that the iron maiden wasn’t intended as an instrument of death, but that many spikes were added at much later dates - there is a piece of general ignorance.

I forgot to mention that last night I went on another tour, this one because it was highly recommended and quite famous! It’s called the Night Watchman’s tour and you are led around the city by a bloke in a cloak, carrying a lantern. His jokes were very good, I can see why he is so popular! He has got so famous that he has a DVD and a shop, but unlike the Christmas shops he doesn’t charge a million Euros.

I just finished walking the city walls, when I felt like a proper sentry! I also ate a schneeball - no, that’s not an actual snowball, but a type of dessert unique to Rothenburg. They are fried balls of something - dough, maybe - about as big as your fist, covered in sugar or sometimes icing. They sound nice but they are actually quite dry and you really need that icing! I could only eat half of one but that was enough.

Tonight I am going out to dinner somewhere special, mostly so I can say this …

Tonight, I dine … in HELL!!

Today
Yes, I’m still here! I went to bed last night with a favourable view of hell. There was bad service, but no attempting to eat with a metre-long fork as that stupid moral tale goes.

As I don’t have much to write about today, I’ll tell you more about the place I was staying in Rothenburg. it was a small house in the old hospital quarter of the city, which the current owner runs as a B&B, cafe and souvenir shop all in one. The whole place was absolutely tiny but it was fine for me as I’m not too big myself! I also felt that for once I was staying in a really historic building. The man who owned it was extremely pleasant and seemed to have owned it for years: he said that a family staying there at the same time as I was had been coming for generations! he told me about his four daughters, aged 19 to 39, who ate silly muesli for breakfast like me. He pointed out some marmalade to me and proudly said that it had been made by his grandmother - he definitely said grandmother! Now if his eldest was 39, and all the generations were 20 years apart, then that would make grandma coming up to a hundred! The marmalade WAS very good; there weren’t any bits in it unfortunately, but if it really was made by a lady 100+, I’m not going to complaing about the small things. The place was called Das Lädle and I recommend it for those on a budget.

Today I travelled to Triberg (Tree-berg) which is in the Schwarzwald, the Black Forest. After four trains, a bus ride and a long, long trek up a hill I have finally come to the hotel. I was going to go for a walk in the woods but I now see what a foolish notion that was. I don’t even want to go out to eat! I spent most of the walk going backwards because it was easier to push my backpack rather than pull it, so to speak. I had a nice view, though: the trees around the hostel are possibly the tallest trees I’ve ever seen.

By the way, I will be home in 20 days! 7pm GMT on Monday 9th June I land back on British ground.

P.S. Sorry about all the typos but I’m on the most expensive Internet ever so no time to check and correct. And sorry Ben, Mum, Dad, I can’t plug in a headset.

Saturday, 17th May
A piece of blossom just fell in my crisp packet and I ate it by mistake. Reminds me of when Ronan experimentally licked a piece of potato on Stephanie’s plate, so she put it on the edge, but forgot about it and ate it anyway. Good times.

I was so impatient yesterday (less so today, you’ll be glad to hear) that I forgot to tell you about my hostel. It is soooo cool! It’s called Hostel Babelfish and it has a subtle Hitchiker’s Guide theme to it! I think they could have gone a bit crazier, actually. They have babelfishes stencilled on the walls, and on the door to all the rooms is a little circle with a picture stencilled inside it. I wanted to be in the “DON’T PANIC” room, but unfortunately I’m in the boring old spaceship room next door. There is a lot of painting in pschadelic colours and in the women’s shower room, plastic flowers grow upside down from the ceiling. In the kitchen there is a fridge which all the guests sign. I haven’t done it yet but I’ve got my eye on a space on the inside!

This morning I bravely, or stupidly, went to an art gallery. it was meant to have art from several periods, so I thought the variation would stop me from getting bored or cynical. As it was, almost all of the three hours I spent there was taken up by my interest in one exhibit, called “Black and White Africa in the 1950s”. Most of the photos were of musicians from South Africa, which was pretty cool because it meant that I got to see the faces of some people I listen to quite frequently, such as Miriam Makeba and Hugh Masekela. What held my attention for so long, however, were two videos, one which was just an overview of the period and one which was about the prison on Robben Island, which is where Nelson Mandela was for twenty-seven years. He was interviewed, as well as other political prisoners and some guards.

Wtf is wrong with people? I am just sitting here writing, and two men (not walking together) have decided to comment on the fact that I write with my left hand. One said it was forbidden. He can’t be serious surely? I wish people would mind their own business: I don’t feel like writing any more. Later.
Well, I listened to “The Warmth” until I had to believe the lyrics, so now I feel better. Also asked at reception about left handedness, and apparently the situation is the same as the UK … I suppose some people just haven’t let go yet …

Right, so Africa. The interview with Nelson Mandela did provoke one particularly funny image: they asked him what games he played and he said that Monopoly was popular. Imagine, all those left wing future leaders, sat in prison playing Monopoly! For the record, Nelson enjoyed volleyball and tennis. For many of the people there, it seem as though the prison was a place which took their youth and separated them from society unfairly, but also a place to meet other intelligent people and refine their political opinions. One ex prisoner told the horrible story about a man who entered the prison after being sentenced to forty years. The man was illiterate so he didn’t understand the concept of forty years, but once he began to learn and understand its meaning, he lost his mind. Another man sentenced to twenty years was in a similar situation. There was simply too much to write about, but I was kept interested by every single moment.

As to the rest of the gallery … meh. I’ve started even to become suspicious of the artists now! There was one work which looked like one of my electrical circuits from science lessons in high school: tangled and without a clear beginning or end. The title was “Red Dot in a Maze”, and I had been searching for this (probably nonexistent) red dot for about twenty seconds before it occurred to me “… this is what he wants … this is WHAT HE WANTS!”

The afternoon was spent walking up a very picturesque hill to the Fortress Marienburg. From the top I got a brilliant view of the town and nearby vineyards, and finally got the feeling that Würzburg earned its place on the Romantic Road. It helped that at that time just about every church in the vicinity - every one of the millions - started ringing its bell, drowning all the other sounds and bringing that odd atmosphere that only bellringing can.

Woooooo free Internet access.

Friday, 16th May
For the first time on my trip, the Lonely Planet has let me down in a big way! I have come to Würzburg, the northern most town on the Romantic Road. I had, for once, been extremely organised and planned my activities, only to discover that the best of them were nur auf Deutsch (only in German) or just … didn’t exist. I also encountered an extremely unhelpful tourist info worker. So I’m not too thrilled with Würzburg, and for this reason won’t be too heavy on the description.

What I did end up doing was going on a self guided walking tour led by a map (now much battered by the wind). It’s all palaces (why so many?? Who lived in them?!) and old town halls again … gaaaaahh … I’ll do you a nice list though.

Falkenhaus: home to the tourist info now but previously an extremely ornate guesthouse. I am quite impressed that all that minute decoration has lasted so long.
Marienkapelle: big red church. Got Jimi Hendrix’s “Red House” in my head.
Neumünster: a basilica where three Irish missionaries were assassinated in AD 689. It had a concave front which did interest me - a feat today. Two more churches … how many do you need??
Alte Universität: hard to separate this from the nearby church, really. Also hard to be impressed by a university once you’ve visited Oxford. The view from the river was excellent and I saw a nice place to hike up to tomorrow, which I’m looking forward to doing.

I have just been chatting with a guy from Serbia, which was extremely interesting. He is obviously politically switched on and was enthusiastic to talk about the situation in Serbia. He lives in a northern area where only three or four bombs were dropped, but it was bizarre when he was talking about things like how irritating it was to be woken up and have a constant background noise of sirens. I’ve led such a safe life. He also told me about how his mother would give him five million in currency to buy bread in the morning, and by the time he actually got round to buying it in the afternoon it would be ten million. He was vehement when talking about his wishes for Serbia to join the EU. He also told me how at the most recent election the democratic party only beat the radical nationalists (by 10%) by forming a coalition with other democratic parties, which the nationalists did not do. The whole conversation just reminded me how much in the UK people take things for granted, and are happy to be politically ignorant.

I am getting more impatient by the hour.

Talking of the German efficiency stereotype, the chocolate I am now eating is advertised as “square. practical. good.” Anyone for some practical chocolate? I’ve always wanted to eat more chocolate, but just hated the fact that it was so … rectangular …

Monday, 12th May
This morning I left Hanover to come to Kassel, a city just a little further south, and a major stop on the fairytale road, the most badly organised tourist route in Germany. As some of you know, all too well, I’m a bit of a fairytale fan! The reason it is included is because it was the home of Germany’s biggest exporters of Märchen (fairytales), Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm.

After spending some time at a street market and buying some more things I can’t talk about, I went to find out if anything was open, and was pleased to discover that they were! So I stuck to my original plan and went to the Brothers Grimm Museum. It was another case of the Sigmund Freud Museum: lots on the brothers themselves, but very little on their works. I don’t understand this?? Their work was what made them famous! I don’t want to know about Jacob’s wife or his job in the civil service, I want to know WHY he decided to write … HOW he did it, etc, etc. There were a few interesting rooms at the top of the building, which represented a fairytale wood, a castle room and a tower room, and had some great art in them. I saw some photos of the brothers, and I have to say that they did live up to their name by looking completely miserable! That said, no one in 19th century photos really looks cheerful.

In the afternoon I went to the Habichtswald, otherwise known as the Hawk Forest. Of course I had to go for a walk in fairy tale land!! So I trudged around near the Wilhelmshöhe castle, keeping a keen eye out for werewolves (though I think that’s a Perrault story), or strange ladies bearing fruit. I took an interesting photo which I call, “who’s afraid of the big bad wolf? MEEEE!”

I decided to stay in a hotel in Kassel because the hostel is far far away (ha, ha) and you couldn’t do online booking. I did my sums and they were optimistic so I’m enjoying room service and watching a documentary on Iron Maiden, very luxurious! Not too luxurious, as I’m thinking of starting a new hobby when I get gome which will mean making a large purchase…

Woo, I just saw an advert for Rock am Ring on TV! Don’t know why, as it sold out weeks ago!

Tuesday, 13th May
Woke up to unfortunately discover I was suffering from yet another illness. Too-lazy-to-move-itis. This lasted for some time, but has now been conquered and only residual traces remain. I’ve said it before (I’ve said a lot of things before … have noticed that in order to train myself out of drifting off at the end of sentences I now say the last sentence twice) - but a good thing about hostels is that usually I’m not short of an impetus to leave.

At last I found my way to a train station and got on a train to the second most popular fairytale stop: Hameln (or as we know it in English, Hamelin). That’s right, the town with the rat problem who wouldn’t pay the piper. The town is still choc-full of rats (and small children), on t-shirts, as food, as toys, as mugs, etc… (not the children). They’ve really gone in for it. You can even follow a trail of white rats painted on the pavement around the city, which is what I did. The old town is a very nice looking place, but then old towns very often are. It is full of half timbered hosues, originally from the 16th and 17th centuries, but well restored. The most well-known and impressive of these it the Rattenfängerhaus (Rat-Catcher’s House). I also went to the Hochzeithaus in the market square as it houses what it supposed to be a really good museum, but it was closed, even though from the opening hours on the door it should have been open. I was really looking forward to it: they have an interactive Shakespeare! One cool thing I did see was a street (I forget the name now) which is actually mentioned in the Grimm’s version of the tale as a road which the Piper leads the children down.

I am disappointed to say that the Fairytale Road has not lived up to my expectations. But then again, fairy stories aren’t made for real life, are they?

(… well, they are, but that’s just an academic point …)

Two things I have learned about the German language since I have been here:
Notausgang does not mean “not an exit” as I immediately thought … it means “emergency exit” (not = need).
The word for stairs might be Treppen, but tripping up is not required.

I was just watching TV and I completely forgot who I was, where I was. Then I realised it was just me, one girl in a hotel room, not doing anything. Nobody knows who I am, I am not furthering myself in any way. All these people on TV are doing things, and here I am, vegetating. I want to be so many people and I can’t choose, but I have to. You just can’t be a single person and lead all the lives I want to. Especially if you spend all your time lounging around in hotels.

Wednesday, 14th May
Man … it is hot. Really hot. Too hot to move between the hours of ten and five. I had a shower this morning, which was a totally pointless effort. I’m moving south through Germany as well at the moment, so it’s only going to get hotter (in theory) … never mind the saunas and spas in Baden-Baden, I’m going to need ice showers. Imagine if I was travelling in Africa! I’d barely be conscious.

I am now in Frankfurt-am-Main. Frankfurt-on-the-Main. It’s a “money city”, with big skyscrapers reflecting the (blinding) light and a fairly cosmopolitan population. My hostel doubles up as a language school as so many foreigners come to work here. It is a fairly decent place, though. I couldn’t stay here for any length of time but it doesn’t have that urban dreariness which turns me off from many cities. neither does it have the exciting but “downtown” quality of areas in Berlin, Dresden and London, which I love, but it’s all right. Despite my train here being criminally late, it is a place where it seems as though things run on time. The German stereotype of efficiency probably finds its home here (well it doesn’t stand up in many of the other places I’ve seen!).

Trying very hard not to melt, I walked past the main tower/skyscraper thing (there is one nearby which I think it better) and made my way to the holocaust memorial. But Emma, not so long ago you were complaining about those … Well, this one is different to all the others I have seen as it is dedicated solely to the men and women murdered because they were gay. Apparently there are only three memorials of this kind in Europe, though I don’t know where the others are. The thing is so tiny I walked straight past it. it is an angel with one of its wings half gone, and its head almost severed. I have to say I wasn’t sure of the exact symbolism of this, unless it is simply to represent the horror of it. Anyway, I liked it a lot better than some of the Jewish memorials.

Then I visited the Goethe Haus. Goethe is everywhere in Germany. They love him. I have seen more of Goethe here than I’ve seen of Shakespeare in England. Every town has a Goethestrasse. Frankfurt’s claim to Goethe is that he was born and lived his early life here. Although ths original house was heavily bombed in WWII, it was painstakingly reconstructed, and it just so happened that much of the furniture was elsewhere during the bombing so a lot of that is original. I must confess to not having read any Goethe - I am waiting until I can read the originals - but I still foudn the hosue very interesting. It put him in a good contect for when I know more later. His family were richer than I had expected, and Goethe had an extremely thorough education (particularly in linguistics) from his father. Their house was pretty big and it had a couple of really interesting artefacts. Firstly, Goethe’s writing desk speaks for itself. There was also a set of etchings from Italy. It was nice to be able to recognise all of them! The most interesting thing was an astronomical (or astrological? umm…) clock. This has date, day, time, position of the moon, position of the sun, zodiac, and a handy cow which falls over when the clock needs winding up.

Today
My day was thrown into complete turmoil this morning when someone asked me what day of the week it was, before 10am. It took a while for the confusion to subside.

My first visit was only vaguely successful, as I am not sure if I found the place I was looking for! I was going to the IG Farbenhaus, which is the palce where the Nazis produced the Zyklon-B gas used in the holocaust. it is now a university campus, but when it changed they decided to keep the name, whether as a reminder or just a historical mark I’m not sure. In any case, I think I saw it but I’m not certain. I found my way to the university so it wasn’t a wasted trip.

Then I went back to the Main tower, but this time I went to the top. there were boards with locations pointed out on them so it was quite cool to map my way around the city from above. It was the first time I have really comprehended how a big city can actually be so small. However, i do think it is better to see Frankfurt and its impressive skyline from the ground. After that I went to Römerberg, which was the old town square. It has a few churches and the old town hall. It was all right, but too much like the Germany I got bored of elsewhere. The most interesting thing was the fountain in the centre, which apparently ran with wine in 1612 when Emperor Matthias was crowned. Why don’t fountains ever run with coloured water toda? That would be interesting and innovative.

For once the best thing about my day was a museum. The southern bank of the Main is lined with them, but the only one I was really interested in was called Museum der Weltkulturen (Museum of World Cultures), which promised to have a good Native American collection. It didn’t, but I think they alter their main collection every year, and my guidebook just hasn’t been updated. Instead the exhibition was about the people who live along the Sepik river in New Guinea. The studies on their society were done by Frankfurters in 1961/63 so I got the feeling the information was a bit out of date, and I was left totally clueless about what is happening to the people today, but as history it was fascinating nevertheless. I learned they lived mostly on a starch name sago, complemented with things like fish and turtles. The women prepared all the food (men hunted) and made all their own cooking utensils. When they had to pound the starch from the sago men and strangers were not permitted to witness this as the procurement of food was seen as sex between the women and the mythical ancestor who brought the plants, which would fertilise the crops to come. The “roles” of the sexes were fairly stereotypical as we know them, although women were highly respected. In the men’s house (or “boy’s club” - no women allowed), on the insides of the door posts a woman would be carved with her legs spread, giving birth. Well, they said giving birth, but I didn’t see a baby there … Come to think of it, there was a lot of interesting information there, but also a lot missing! There wasn’t anything on birth, death, sex, religion - well, nothing apart from a few skull racks. I need to get hold of more of these anthropological studies.

Tonight I will be sampling a traditional fish of Frankfurt-Main - salad with “grie Soss”. This is a sauce made from seven herbs, which might have just disappeared from my breath by the time I get back to the UK …

 I just checked and I did make it to the IG Farben building!