September 6, 2014
Wasserliesch - Saarbrucken
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Good weather again, after a damp start and easy riding all the way, although the climb up to the first dam was steepish, but obviously not long. The Saar dams effectively turn each stretch of the river into a lake, with hydro-electric stations utilising the flow, incorporating locks at one side for barge traffic. We'd see the same later, on the Danube. I took some pictures of Saarburg, which partly clings to the slope above the river.
Near Taben-Rodt, I spoke to a man by the roadside, [wrong turn] while waiting for Barbara, about the the summer's football in Brazil. We had what might be described as an interchangeable conversation.
"Germany had the best team, but not the best players," I said.
"Yes, the best team, but not the best players." he replied.
"And Manuel Neuer."
"Yes, and Manuel Neuer."
We stopped in Mettlach to buy food. The town is home to the Villeroy-Bosch ceramic company and there are factory outlet stores in the town centre, not just for Villeroy-Bosch now, but for clothes and sportswear too. Cafes, restaurants, bargain shops and crowds, that's the town centre. I had to ask at the tourist office, where I could buy bread and cheese. About 2km out of town, at Edeka or Lidl, up a hill, of course, from the top of which we had a fine view of the extent of Villeroy-Bosch's operations [extensive]. We ate, back near the town centre, overlooking the river.
The Saar takes a big loop here. I suggested we take the short cut, up, out and back into the valley. “No” said Barbara. We rode round the bend. Approaching Saarlouis, industry takes a hold. We could see the blast furnace at Dillingen, there's a Ford plant nearby. At Völklingen, is the redundant blast furnace complex, which we would visit the next day and a Saarstahl basic oxygen steelworks, which still runs, partially supplied by that blast furnace back at Dillingen.
Again, Barbara had used her phone to book ahead. In Saarbrücken city centre, I reminded her that, tomorrow being Sunday, before checking in to our hotel we should buy food for the next day. We had stopped near a shopping mall and inside that, was a very busy Rewe supermarket, full of shoppers with their minds on Sunday closing, like me, I presume. Our hotel, which we found with some difficulty, on the main pedestrianised shopping street, is on the upper floors of a building between two shops, above two floors of a radiology clinic. There's an underground garage to park the bikes. We ate in the room again, more Rheinlandpfalz wine for me too, of a better quality this time.
A word on wine, we were still in [just] one of Germany's most famous wine producing regions, the Mosel, Saar, Ruwer,. Their output is mostly low alcohol white wine, and although I have no reason to doubt its quality and finesse, I rarely drink white wine, particularly not of the low alcohol variety, Christmas and birthdays perhaps. From now on, I'll just spend a couple more Euros on superior local red. I'll also make sure that the word “trocken is on the label. That's dry. Alternatives, to be strenuously avoided are “halb-trocken”, literally half-dry, but sweet and “lieblich” literally meaning, “lovely”. Not to me. Cloyingly sweet comes closer. In other wine producing nations, except perhaps, Austria, sweet red wines are much less common.
The street outside was busy until late, Saturday night in Saarbrücken. I heard a lot of French spoken. The city is close to the French border and the neighbouring town of Saarguemines [F] is connected by a tramline. Saarbrücken may be proud of its industrial past, but it is less proud, according to the mayor, of its brothels, two of which are situated [so I read] opposite the town hall. Most German cities are hosts to legal prostitution. On a previous trip, towards the end of North Germany's hottest day of that year, having just ridden off the ferry across the Weser, to Bremerhaven, we set out to find somewhere to stay. A sign led us, away from the city centre, to the Hotel Metropole.
“I'm not staying here,” said Barbara.
“Oh, come on, I'll go and ask,” I said.
“I'm not staying here,”
“Why not?”
“Just turn round.”I turned to look. On the corner, was a lap dancing club, but, turning my head further to my left, I saw the road almost crowded with women in their underwear. The working girls had taken to the street.
“Ah.” I said.
In Saarbrücken, one of Europe's largest whorehouses is currently under construction. The French government has recently come down hard on prostitution, it is now illegal for men to pay for sex. This may be good for the economy of Saarbrücken, but not, it seems, in a way, the mayor, Charlotte Britz, fully appreciates.
Today's ride: 103 km (64 miles)
Total: 635 km (394 miles)
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