Post by VemuKhaham on Sept 8, 2009 17:53:20 GMT -5
Hi everyone,
As promised, here a full report of my journey to Freiburg, from August 22 to August 30 - for now, just the account of the first day, but I'll add the other days when I find the time. I went alone on bike, which gave the whole thing a wholly different dimension than all my previous trips with groups or family or friends, by car or airplane. It is not so much a trip to Freiburg, but a journey from my home along the Rhine region, which happened to have it’s planned end in Freiburg. While I was travelling, here and there I found time to write in my journal, which I have now transcribed on my pc. Supplemented with some pictures, selected from over 500 taken, but I didn’t want to bore you showing them all. If at any time you're curious about something, ask and I may be able to offer more description or pictures. The reasons and main themes of my journey: to test myself, to truly feel what travelling means, to explore nature and history of this interesting region, and to immerse myself into the old, romantic Germanic myths and legends that played such a key role in this area. Some geographical facts: I travelled first to Aachen, then to Cologne, to pursue the course of the Rhine upstream until I reached Freiburg. In the end, the kilometre counter on my bike counted 780km, or 485miles, which is inclusive of all the extra miles I made on detours and side-trips, but excluding the distance I took by train, between my home in Haps to Heerlen by Aachen, and between Karlsruhe and Strasbourg. Below is a map.
Day 1 – August 22, 2009
A long week-and-a-half of planning and tensions have passed now that I finally drove down the lawn, waved at by an overly anxious mother, a somewhat cynical sister and a laughing Dirk-Jan… And a still soundly sleeping Inge. It wasn’t just the first step of my first big journey – that is, a real journey, not one more of those lame city-trips, the difference being that now travel itself is the destination – it was also a distancing of myself from all the well-intentioned, but condescending and constraining comments, advices and control which I had suffered at home. All of it together produced a confusing maelstrom of feelings: doubt, hope, excitement, self-assurance, travel spirit, loneliness, but most of all the idea of ‘Get over it, you coward, this is what you’ve wanted and you’re ready for it!’
The first part of my journey by train from Cuijk to Roermond and from Roermond to Heerlen to my joy went spotless, getting me quickly near the southernmost border of the Netherlands. My belated departure in the morning because of the need to quickly fetch me a decent bedroll was now made up with an expedient arrival by train, and so I still had high hopes of reaching Aachen early enough that day to spend some time enjoying the city of emperors, of Charlemagne.
When I left Heerlen by bike at 13.00pm things became somewhat more troubling: for the first time, my navigational skills were tested and of this insignificant first part of my journey I had no map. The result: getting lost while cycling through Heerlen and diminutive little hamlets and villages like Hulst, Wittem and countless others of the like, where furthermore nobody seemed to be able to point out the right way to Aachen – one elderly man, for example, managed to describe to me in the fullest detail, many times over and over again, how I could get about two hundred meters further, only to advice me to ask there again – and where all the road signs were quite useless, untypical of the usual Dutch, patronizing standards. Luckily, the beautiful, gently elevated environment with its constant diversity of fields, trees and villages, and the splendid weather, gave me the opportunity to get used to and enjoy travelling on my new bike.
Passing the town of Vaals, where Belgium, Germany and the Netherlands meet, we finally arrived on German soil in Aachen at 15.00pm, where I deposed of my luggage – tent, bedroll and the usual stuff – at a railway station locker, only to find in the near vicinity a relatively cheap little hotel with a very friendly, helpful and talkative owner.
The remainder of the day was perfect. The cathedral of Aachen, with all its fabulous history concerning Charlemagne and the imperial crownings, and with its many-layered architecture, has now appeared on my list of most elegant monuments seen so far, even though I was too late to partake in the tour, so that I couldn’t climb up to the splendid little air-bridge which linked the main renaissance dome to the neogothic tower. High, imposing, painted windows, and an interior purposefully based on the Byzantine style which I remembered from Istanbul; even as I watched them, I stumbled upon an inner court where a great crowd had gathered to listen to an open-air classical concert, which at that time I could totally appreciate, even though I can’t tell exactly what German opera was being performed. Next, I visited the second main building of Aachen (and every German city I would find out), the Radhaus – or city hall – also reminding of Charlemagne’s times with its vast throne room with wall paintings referring to legendary events of the city’s Roman and medieval past. Below: picture of the cathedral seen from the Radhaus; picture of cathedral interior, the altar part; picture of bishop and king bowing before emperor Charlemagne above the portal into the Radhaus; picture of the classical concert.
Evening fell in Aachen and most things were closed down, so I ate some schnitzel with a beer and then, at 20.00pm, took my time to wander through the edges of the city centre, until I was drawn to the sound of a heavy beat into a park where many people had gathered – I found out later the whole city knew of the event, or so the hotel owner told me. Apparently, I had just stumbled into another large open-air concert, and though I wasn’t allowed in, it was nice listening to it from a distance while walking the park.
Just like that we went on walking back to the city centre through the authentic city gates, this time obviously into the nice part of town where everyone goes out at night. I went to collect my bike and luggage and returned to my hotel, where the owner allowed me to park my bike safely in his own garage a few blocks away, meanwhile telling me how he had had a car accident that night on the highway to Cologne. Apparently, he had heard a noise but didn’t know what it was, then later heard on the radio a warning saying there was some big debris on the highway. Indeed, he found out that somehow, and he showed me, his own car bumper had come off!
This account of the first day I wrote in my hotel room, and at 00:12am I turned off the light and went to sleep. The alarm tomorrow is set at 7:30am.
The city gates.
The Radhaus façade by night, spooky and full of ambiance.
As promised, here a full report of my journey to Freiburg, from August 22 to August 30 - for now, just the account of the first day, but I'll add the other days when I find the time. I went alone on bike, which gave the whole thing a wholly different dimension than all my previous trips with groups or family or friends, by car or airplane. It is not so much a trip to Freiburg, but a journey from my home along the Rhine region, which happened to have it’s planned end in Freiburg. While I was travelling, here and there I found time to write in my journal, which I have now transcribed on my pc. Supplemented with some pictures, selected from over 500 taken, but I didn’t want to bore you showing them all. If at any time you're curious about something, ask and I may be able to offer more description or pictures. The reasons and main themes of my journey: to test myself, to truly feel what travelling means, to explore nature and history of this interesting region, and to immerse myself into the old, romantic Germanic myths and legends that played such a key role in this area. Some geographical facts: I travelled first to Aachen, then to Cologne, to pursue the course of the Rhine upstream until I reached Freiburg. In the end, the kilometre counter on my bike counted 780km, or 485miles, which is inclusive of all the extra miles I made on detours and side-trips, but excluding the distance I took by train, between my home in Haps to Heerlen by Aachen, and between Karlsruhe and Strasbourg. Below is a map.
The Road to Freiburg
A Solitary Adventure
[/b][/center]A Solitary Adventure
Day 1 – August 22, 2009
A long week-and-a-half of planning and tensions have passed now that I finally drove down the lawn, waved at by an overly anxious mother, a somewhat cynical sister and a laughing Dirk-Jan… And a still soundly sleeping Inge. It wasn’t just the first step of my first big journey – that is, a real journey, not one more of those lame city-trips, the difference being that now travel itself is the destination – it was also a distancing of myself from all the well-intentioned, but condescending and constraining comments, advices and control which I had suffered at home. All of it together produced a confusing maelstrom of feelings: doubt, hope, excitement, self-assurance, travel spirit, loneliness, but most of all the idea of ‘Get over it, you coward, this is what you’ve wanted and you’re ready for it!’
The first part of my journey by train from Cuijk to Roermond and from Roermond to Heerlen to my joy went spotless, getting me quickly near the southernmost border of the Netherlands. My belated departure in the morning because of the need to quickly fetch me a decent bedroll was now made up with an expedient arrival by train, and so I still had high hopes of reaching Aachen early enough that day to spend some time enjoying the city of emperors, of Charlemagne.
When I left Heerlen by bike at 13.00pm things became somewhat more troubling: for the first time, my navigational skills were tested and of this insignificant first part of my journey I had no map. The result: getting lost while cycling through Heerlen and diminutive little hamlets and villages like Hulst, Wittem and countless others of the like, where furthermore nobody seemed to be able to point out the right way to Aachen – one elderly man, for example, managed to describe to me in the fullest detail, many times over and over again, how I could get about two hundred meters further, only to advice me to ask there again – and where all the road signs were quite useless, untypical of the usual Dutch, patronizing standards. Luckily, the beautiful, gently elevated environment with its constant diversity of fields, trees and villages, and the splendid weather, gave me the opportunity to get used to and enjoy travelling on my new bike.
Passing the town of Vaals, where Belgium, Germany and the Netherlands meet, we finally arrived on German soil in Aachen at 15.00pm, where I deposed of my luggage – tent, bedroll and the usual stuff – at a railway station locker, only to find in the near vicinity a relatively cheap little hotel with a very friendly, helpful and talkative owner.
The remainder of the day was perfect. The cathedral of Aachen, with all its fabulous history concerning Charlemagne and the imperial crownings, and with its many-layered architecture, has now appeared on my list of most elegant monuments seen so far, even though I was too late to partake in the tour, so that I couldn’t climb up to the splendid little air-bridge which linked the main renaissance dome to the neogothic tower. High, imposing, painted windows, and an interior purposefully based on the Byzantine style which I remembered from Istanbul; even as I watched them, I stumbled upon an inner court where a great crowd had gathered to listen to an open-air classical concert, which at that time I could totally appreciate, even though I can’t tell exactly what German opera was being performed. Next, I visited the second main building of Aachen (and every German city I would find out), the Radhaus – or city hall – also reminding of Charlemagne’s times with its vast throne room with wall paintings referring to legendary events of the city’s Roman and medieval past. Below: picture of the cathedral seen from the Radhaus; picture of cathedral interior, the altar part; picture of bishop and king bowing before emperor Charlemagne above the portal into the Radhaus; picture of the classical concert.
Evening fell in Aachen and most things were closed down, so I ate some schnitzel with a beer and then, at 20.00pm, took my time to wander through the edges of the city centre, until I was drawn to the sound of a heavy beat into a park where many people had gathered – I found out later the whole city knew of the event, or so the hotel owner told me. Apparently, I had just stumbled into another large open-air concert, and though I wasn’t allowed in, it was nice listening to it from a distance while walking the park.
Just like that we went on walking back to the city centre through the authentic city gates, this time obviously into the nice part of town where everyone goes out at night. I went to collect my bike and luggage and returned to my hotel, where the owner allowed me to park my bike safely in his own garage a few blocks away, meanwhile telling me how he had had a car accident that night on the highway to Cologne. Apparently, he had heard a noise but didn’t know what it was, then later heard on the radio a warning saying there was some big debris on the highway. Indeed, he found out that somehow, and he showed me, his own car bumper had come off!
This account of the first day I wrote in my hotel room, and at 00:12am I turned off the light and went to sleep. The alarm tomorrow is set at 7:30am.
The city gates. The Radhaus façade by night, spooky and full of ambiance.