September 26, 2014
The Long Way Home: Day 2: Passau to Monchengladbach
I reckoned that the best place for us to cross into the Netherlands, would be Mönchengladbach - Venlo, so at Passau station, after buying another Quer-Durchs-Land ticket at the machine, I asked for a print-out of our itinerary from the enquiry office. We then bought coffee and croissants at the station cafe. Our train was pretty busy, but very long, so there was room enough, “Where are you going?” asked the train conductor. “To Plattling,” I replied. “Go to the end of the train.” she told us. Good advice. The Oktoberfest in Munich had started and there were a lot of young [and some not so young] people heading in that direction. Almost all were dressed in some form of traditional Bavarian dress, Lederhosen and push-up bras, in other words. Almost all the men were carrying beer, the women, white wine or the makings for cocktails. Drinking had already started on the train. We pulled out of Passau at 9-16am.
At Plattling, more Octobrists joined the train, as we got off. There was no difficulty with the change here, the Regensburg train was waiting for us. All to the good, it was cold and had started to rain. At Regensburg, I had time enough to photograph the engine of a steam-hauled excursion train, a long excursion at that, taking a week to visit Austria, Slovakia, the Czech Republic, before returning to Nuremberg, which it had just left that morning. Nuremberg? That was us too. There, I had time to pick up sandwiches and beer. While on the move, I thought I might enjoy my own Septemberfest. Next stop, Würzburg, it was 2-30pm and we were still in Bavaria.
At Würzburg, we had a wait of less than twenty minutes, before we were on the way to Frankfurt Airport station, which is totally subterranean, under the runway for all I know. We had 52 minutes here, not the most attractive place to spend a spare hour. I went for a walk up top and almost got lost on the way back. We were in the wrong place on the platform for the bike compartment. The train was late, so we put them in the space by the carriage doors. We spent the next half-hour, as far as Mainz, shifting them about to allow commuters on and off. After Mainz, was more comfortable, we could sit and intermittently gaze upon the Rhine. Not, unfortunately, on the Lorelei rock which stands between Bingen and Koblenz, but is not visible from the train. The only scrap of German poetry, I can remember from school, came to mind; the first two lines of Heinrich Heine's poem Die Lorelei, which speaks of the myth of the Lorelei maiden, who is said to have lured sailors to their death.
Ich weiss nicht was soll es bedeuten
Dass ich so traurig bin.
of which, my translation would be:
I do not know what it can mean
That I should feel such sorrow
Here's it is in full . I don't much care for the English version.
At Koblenz, again, we had a layover of almost an hour. I went off the platform to buy more food and drink. It was dark by the time we left Koblenz, so on this, the longest leg of our cross-country adventure, we wouldn't have much to look at. Cologne cathedral is unmissable, otherwise, we were in the dark. On arrival at Mönchengladbach, our connection to Venlo was waiting to leave on the adjacent track. However, that train is operated by a different company to German Regional Railways and so our Quer-Durchs-Land ticket would not be valid. Rather than risk a railway fine, we opted to stay the night in Mönchengladbach.
Mönchengladbach railway station is not the best-appointed on the network, so we wanted to be out of there. We hadn't booked a room anywhere. We had been uncertain whether we would be here, or Venlo for the night. I sparked up Herr Garmin and we set off in search of a hotel. We found one soon enough. I went in to enquire.
“Do you have a double room for tonight?”
“What's your name and where do you live?”
“Bitte?” I thought the young guy behind the desk, had misunderstood me.
“Do you have a double for tonight?” “
“What's your name and where do you live?”
“Why are you asking me that? I just want to know if you have a room free.”
“I have to ask you?”
“Why?
“I just have to ask you.”
I gave up the struggle and told him.
“ Yes we do.”
Fucking daylight.
I brought Barbara and the bikes inside.
For Barbara's benefit [and truth be told, for mine too], he explained, in English, that there was a man at large in M/G, who had been causing trouble in hotels in the area. Evidently, a warning was out.
We stashed the bikes in a ground floor store cupboard, during the course of which we managed to destroy a box of Christmas baubles. “It's OK, they're old,” said the man on the desk. We went up to the room. Something wasn't quite right. The bed didn't look properly made. Barbara lifted a pillow and discovered a sweaty T-shirt thereunder.* Back down to the desk we trudged, gingerly carrying, between thumb and forefinger, the offending and to be honest, offensive garment. Another key was handed over and we went back upstairs, to another room, accompanied by the man on the desk, in case, I presume, we might find further noxious undergarments lurking therein.* All clear, we unpacked.
*That would be darunter and darein in German.
I was hungry and thirsty again. I went out to get more food and drink. There wasn't much of a choice. From a convenience store, I bought two bottles of beer and from a Greek cafe/takeaway, shashlik and chips. I pulled a bottle of Diebels beer out of their chiller cabinet and had it opened so I could drink it while I waited. What's this? Diebels turned out to be a dark beer, for which I have little fondness. Except Draught Guinness or Murphy,'s that is.
“Is this a local beer.” I asked.
“Yes, from here in Mönchengladbach. The Borussia football team have the name, “Diebels” on their shirts.” “It's fucking horrible”, I refrained from saying.
While all this was going on, I failed to notice that my grilled meat had been slathered with a disgustingly sweet, mildly curryish, sticky brown sauce. The stuff, I believe [only believe because I wouldn't eat it] they put on Currywurst.
Back in the room, when I made this discovery, I was driven to more impolite language, quite a lot of it. Still, I was hungry, so I scraped off as much as I could and ate it anyway.
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