Stuart’s GoldWing Blog

Having a good day!

Our second full day in the Mosel Region was forecast to be showery but we came down to a pleasant and clear morning for breakfast with a plan already formed to be on the road for a Ride Out without delay.

Rob Ellis, a seasoned Mosel tourer, had co-operated with me the night before in planning a circular ride for the group which would take in a useful sample of the area’s attractive places and also provide a gentle introduction to the riding opportunities provided by its magnificent roads.

We settled on a route heading across the river from Klotten via the bridge at Tries.  Then then up one of the Mosel’s side valleys and southwards across the high ground which separates the two river valleys as they head towards each other at Koblenz.  We headed for the Rhine ferry at Kaub, where I knew from a previous visit there was an unusual biker’s cafe on the far bank, which would make an interesting coffee stop.

Ride that curve!

As we queued on the West side of the Rhine, on the ramp down from the road to the river’s edge, we were basking in sunshine and there was an opportunity to take a few pictures of this extremely pretty spot. And pictures of the passing river traffic, which was either also attractive to the eye or impressively huge or both.   The River Liners which cruise this great river from Holland to Switzerland and all stations in between, are really quite a site.  Nigel Mackintosh was in his element, clicking away.

Queuing for our first ferry, to Kaub

I had explained that these ferries run continuously and there’s no pre-booking.  You simply ride-on, pay the man who comes around like an old fashioned  bus conductor a couple of Euros or so and ride-off again in no time.  But once on the Ferry Nigel had his helmet and jacket off in no time and his camera held aloft (nautical term!) on a stick to take another photo or ten.  He was completely immersed in this novel photo-opportunity and he had to move pretty quickly to get back on his bike when we pointed out that the Ferry was already approaching the docking ramp on the other side.  It doesn’t take long to cross the line. Nigel managed to ride off with the rest of us, just.

Rosie & Steve, with mid-river Castle

The Biker’s Cafe I was heading for is across the road at the top of the Ferry Ramp and impossible to miss.  It lived up to my recollections and expectations, or rather it was still a bit scruffy-looking and its eccentric and entertaining owner was on form.  He speaks reasonable English but pretends not to and takes the micky out of your fumbling attempts to communicate for a few minutes before letting you off the hook with a smile and a hint to help yourself.

Parked at the Biker's Cafe at Kaub

He operates an honesty system and although he will cook hot food to order (and he even understands what a bacon butty is) you are expected to help yourself as far as practicable, for example to coffee from the urn, milk from the jug and sugar if you need it.  You are also expected to enjoy as many free refills as you wish and stay as long as you like.  You pay at the counter only when you are ready to leave, even if you have eaten a steak, which is always on offer.

Bill balancing a motorcycle on his head

The toilet bears no signage and it’s in the cluttered bottle store and best described as basically functional rather than decorous – and its probably kept that way deliberately to discourage non-biking customers from hanging around.  And in case any non-biking customer is in any doubt about the Cafe’s core customer base, a classic motorcycle is suspended above the counter for them to bang their heads on.  It’s quite a cultural experience and worth diverting for if you’re in the area.

And it's even a Honda!

Dave Turvey eventually managed quite a conversation with the Owner, in English, and apparently got himself appointed as UK selling agent for an allegedly pristine and low mileage GL1500 which the Owner was hoarding.  I wondered it’s low mileage had anything to do with a stint dangling above the counter in order to really terrorise non-biking would-be customers into full flight.

Lots of character - and good food too

Having re-hydrated (it was turning out to be a warm sunny day) and in most cases braved a visit to the bottle store, we headed down river towards the narrows at Loreley, a tight turning point on the Rhine where, according to legend, mariners were seduced on to the rocks by beautiful maidens, the Lorelies.  We got a view of the high ground which towers over the river at this bend, where there are both spectacular views upstream and downstream and a very pleasant, and surprisingly affordable, lunch stop.

View of the Rhine from Loreley

It takes quite a detour inland to get up to the top of the cliffs high above the river, maybe as much as four or five miles, but it’s worth it.  The views really are spectacular and relaxing in the shade of the umbrellas and trees was very pleasant indeed.  It was also an opportunity for novices to Germany to discover that ordering food there is no problem – not least because most of the tourist spots print their menus in English as well ás German.

During my own first visit to Germany I felt more than a little out of my depth ordering food when I spotted a stall selling chunks of roast chicken and bread.  My efforts to get the guy who was serving them failed miserably when he pointed to the cashier’s station a few yards away.  I was obviously expected to pay for my food in advance there, and the cashier obviously served several food stalls, so I was going to have to say what I wanted.

Parking up at Loreley

Lacking a more conventional way of communicating,  resorted to saying “Ein” (i.e. “one”) and then making a clucking noise while wagging my elbows.  I got the message across but no one was more surprised by me when the Cashier said “You want some chicken then love?” .  She was from Rotherham. Many real Germans, as distinct from Yorkshire ex-patriates, speak English too and they are mostly very friendly and helpful.  Unlike the French, who seem to  like pretending they don’t speak English in France even if they do, I have always found Germans much more inclined to be helpful.  There was no problem ordering our lunch at Lorely.

Bill's Bike collected a notice

As we returned to the Loreley Car Park Bill’s bike, looking immaculate as usual, had acquired a printed sign saying “Please do not clean this bike, it’s supposed tolook like this”.  As the picture shows, he saw the funny side of it.

Back on the road we headed down to the riverside and downriver for another ferry to get us back on to the left bank of the Rhine at Boppard, another pretty riversaide town, then North along the riverside into Koblenz.

Maureen and friend at Loreley

We were heading for Deutsches Eck (German Corner) which is where the Mosel, itself a pretty big river, flows into the mighty Rhine. Getting there means riding through the City of Koblenz, so I was a bit nervous about how the group, all ten bikes and trikes on the tour, would stay together. Four bikes had both satnav and CB,  I had loaded the route onto their satnavs and they were strategically spaced out along the riding order, so at least we stood a chance. The route through Koblenz to Deutsches Eck also turned to be well signposted, which helped.

Boarding our second Ferry to Boppard

In the event we did split into two groups by traffic lights and despite my best efforts we only regrouped after arriving at our destination.  Fortunately CB helped me to direct the strays into the designated bike park, which is not well signposted but once you spot it, does the job nicely.  Fortunately it was empty and (just) big enough to take all of us, so we enjoyed a prime parking spot.

And it was still warm enough to warrant an Ice Cream – and there was an Ice Cream Booth right beside where we parked.

Deutsches Eck is said to hold great significance for Germans, as longstanding symbol of a united Germany.  In 1897, nine years after his death, a giant equestrian statue of Kaiser Wilhelm I was built there, commemorating his achievements in uniting what was then a much larger Germany, incorporating  parts of  France, Russia, Poland, Denmark, Belgium and Lithuania.  During the post-WW2 era, when Germany was divided, it became a symbol of  Germany’s wish for re-unification, albeit on a less expansive scale than Wilhelm originally wanted to hang on to.  There are three chunks of the Berlin Wall standing there these days as well as the statue, as a memorial to its dismantlement.  The equestrian stature of Wilhelm is truly impressive, indeed it’s huge.  The US army hit it with an artillery shell towards the end of War and more or less demolished it, but it has since been fixed up nicely.  Deutsches Eck is well worth a visit.

Group picture at Loreley

At some poiunt the sign which had been on Bill’s bike at Lorely mysteriously appeared on my bike’s windscreen at Deutsches Eck.  Bill must have somehow got the idea that I had had something to do with it.

Ideally we would have incorporated Rudsesheim in our circuit but that would have added just a bit too many miles. By the time we got to Deutsches Eck it was late afternoon and showers were threatening.  We stayed for an hour or so and sheltered from one shower.  We then had an easy ride back along the right bank of the Mosel to Tries before crossing to return to Klotten and there were only a few spots of rain en route.

It's not all steep hills and vineyards

It had been a very successful and enjoyable day exploring a taste of what the  Mosel and Rhine valleys have to offer on our GoldWings and as we gathered for dinner together back at the Hotel, showered and refreshed with our bikes tucked away securely in the Garage,  there was a general air of satisfaction and contentment.  We had seen some attractice sights, ridden some nice twisty roads and enjoyed some German food, drink and even learned a bit of German history.  Not sure about the German history lesson, but the rest of it was certainly what we had come to Germany for.

The photos which accompany this Article include those taken by Nigel and Joanna Mackintosh as well as Bill Squires and my own.