Finding a Heim in the Rhein Pfalz

 

It's not hard as the area abounds with Heims - Nackenheim, Oppenheim, Bodensheim, and now we have just departed Mannheim after pedalling to Heidleberg for the day. What a glorious place to ride a bike. Country lanes and bike paths everywhere, covered over often enough with shady trees to make the unseasonal German warmth pleasant. What a contrast to rainy cold Germany this trip is so far, with temperatures hovering round the 30 degree mark each day. The only down side is hot rooms in which to sleep, as AC is not something that is installed as a matter of course, unlike the bars and bars of hydronic heaters that flank the walls of every room.

Des enjoying a Spargel meal

Luckily we have caught Spargel season. If you have not as yet tasted the sweet creaminess of German white asparagus, a treat awaits. The developing spears are hulled with soil and left to grow. Then along come the contingent of migrant workers - Polish in the main I have been told - who use a slender piece of steel with a curved lip to pierce the soil, push down and lift a single spear into the light. Each spear is laid into a metal basket, one by one. Back breaking work. In my experience, the white does not have same effect on the smell of urine as does the green. Chlorophyll must be a powerful agent in the body.

We have been joined by Michael and have spent two nights in his hometown. Riding into Mannheim is nothing compared with riding into say Budapest (or Pnohm Penh - unimaginable really), but enough to remind me of why we are avoiding large cities on this trip. And who wouldn't? The villages are abundant and delightful. Nierstein, tucked between the Rhein and acres of grapes, entertained us for five days. An icecream shop on the river, two churches ringing their bells so we never needed to look at a watch, several restaurants, fifty Weinguts and many Weinstubes in which to drink a cheeky spritzig Riesling under large oaks or beeches and a swimming pool in the beautiful Villa Spiegelberg gardens - what a holiday to begin.

Our first excursion by bike was to St Goar where we pedalled and trained, then rode to the Lorelei Rock, a long held memory for me of Heinrich Heine's poem.

Ich weiss nicht was soll es bedeuten

Dass ich so traurig bin,

Ein Marchen aus uralten Zeiten,

Das kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn.

Die Luft is kuhl und es dunkelt,

Und ruhig fliesst der Rhein;

Der Gipfelt des Berges funkelt,

Im Abendsonnenschein.

Die schonste Jungfrau sitzet,

Dort oben wunderbar,

Ihr goldeneses Geschmeide blitzet,

Sie kammt ihr goldenes Haar,

Sie kammt es mit goldenem Kamme,

Und sing ein Lied dabei;

Das hat ein wundersame

Gewalgte Melodei.

Basically, the poem tells the story of a beautiful maiden sitting on the Lorelei in the afternoon sun, combing her golden hair with a golden comb. Of course, she is singing a sweet melody. The problem, a bit like Odysseus encountered with his men and the Sirens, was that her song would distract sailors and potentially result in ships running aground in this narrowest part of the Rhein.

I leant this poem sometime during my schoolroom German lessons, and like many things one takes by heart, it has more or less stuck.

The group is fun to be in. I have not ridden with newbies for some time. It can be very amusing to see them pedal along and remember my early days on the bike. We have laughed a lot, ogled together at beautiful gardens and buildings and landscapes, and found good food and wine to send us to sleep. Right now, there is nowhere else I would rather be.

 

 

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