Westerwaldkreis

Following our enjoyable time in Maastricht, the time had come for our travelling circus to move to its next performance. When faced with the problem of getting 19 Ghostriders and a veritable mountain of luggage from Maastricht in the Netherlands to Koblenz in Germany, I examined several options.

The obvious choice would have been to travel by train. That sounds simple, however it would have required all of us to travel to Maastricht Station (with all our luggage), then negotiate a sequence of three trains (with all our luggage) and finally to get from Koblenz Station to our respective hotels (with all our luggage). That was not an option that had any appeal at all.

About 9 months ago, I started researching the possibility of chartering a bus for the journey. I contacted several companies for quotes and waited for their replies. While most of them were ridiculously expensive, there was one company (called A1 Service) that provided a realistic quote at about 50 Euro per person.

I started a dialogue with the company, but they were somewhat difficult to contact at times. When they asked for a substantial deposit in advance, I started to get a little nervous. I had no idea who I was really dealing with, and could not help but fear that I was kissing goodbye to a stack of Euros.

Of all the arrangements for this trip, the one that gave me the most concern was this bus transfer. What would I do if the promised bus did not turn up ? In the final email from A1 Service, they promised that the bus would be at the Hotel Valk at 9 am. I arranged for the group to be checked out and waiting with their luggage at 8.30 am. I started looking for the bus.

The clock marched on to 8.45 am. No bus. 8.55 am. No bus. I tried to look confident, but I had butterflies in my stomach. The group started to look at me. I walked out into the street and looked either way. No bus. 9.00 am came and went. Still no bus. The team were starting to look mutinous.

"What are we going to do?", some of the more cynical members asked.

"Pass me your phone", I said to Maggie.

I dialed the number, half expecting to get the dreaded "That number is no longer connected" message (or whatever that is in Dutch). You could imagine my relief when the driver answered, and explained that he had been delayed 45 minutes by an accident on the highway. He promised that he was only 5 minutes away. And he was.

When he arrived he was at the wheel of a very large, and very modern bus. Everything would be OK after all. My reputation was intact, and I even started to breathe again. About 10 minutes later, we were loaded onto the bus and underway.

The drive to Koblenz should have only taken about 2 hours, and it probably would have if there had not been a huge traffic jam on the German side of the border. At first we thought there must have been a big accident, but apparently the road was blocked while they cleaned and polished the line markings. I think that was the story anyway. Germans are sticklers for order and cleanliness after all.

We also learned that the Germans have very strict codes for how long drivers can drive without a break. The traffic jam had delayed us so much that the driver had to stop the bus and wait for 45 minutes, before we could resume the journey.

I think we finally arrived in Koblenz about 1.30 pm, and found Sue Rainsford standing outside the hotel, waving to us. It was a lovely welcome to see a friendly, familiar face so far away from home.

After checking into the hotel and having a rest, Maggie and I went for walk around the city. Koblenz is an old city, situated in an idyllic location at the confluence of the Rhine and Moselle Rivers. Our initial impressions were very favourable.

Not wanting to have another restaurant meal, we decided to get some provisions from the supermarket and have a picnic in our hotel room. Shopping in a foreign supermarket can be a challenging exercise, but fortunately most items have informative pictures on the outside.

I found some bottles of apple juice and thought they would be a nice way to quench my thirst. We also added grapes, oranges and yoghurt, before heading back to our room for a little feast.

Since the heat was still around 30C, I could not wait to enjoy the apple juice, and poured myself a large glass. It smelt and tasted awful. Perhaps it is an acquired taste, I wondered. I took another sip. It tasted even worse. I felt like I was sucking the toxic sweat from a pair of old cycling socks.

Just what was this foul muck that I had purchased ? I searched on Google for the solution and discovered that I had just purchased two large bottles of apple cider vinegar. I had been drinking almost pure acetic acid! No wonder it did not quench my thirst. So, down the sink with that toxic swill. I suspect that my throat is still seared from the unfortunate experience.Les mer