(Our camper parked at the winery in the Moselle River Valley)
22 April 2008: We woke up at Winzergenossenschaft de Kreises Cochem-Zell in Ernst. Wineries are generally called “weingut” instead of “winzergenossenschaft”, but this was actually an incorporation where wineries from the Kreises Cochem-Zell area send their grapes to be processed into wine. We “battened down the hatches” to head over to the valley “right next door”, The Rhine River Valley. We got about 10 feet down the driveway when we realized the tasting room was open. We couldn’t leave without at least trying the wine! The wines were mostly made from Reisling grapes and other white varietals, but there were also few reds, just not to taste. The woman gave us a little background on the history of the grapes and the area and it was interesting.
We headed off to the town of Bacharach in the Rhine Valley. The original plan was to take a boat ride up the river and maybe ride bikes back. But, the weather was grey and it was later than we expected. We got a view of part of the river just getting down to the town of Bacharach and snapped off a few photos of the robber-baron castles. Barons would build these castles right on the banks of the Rhine River, or even in the middle of the river. Then, they would block the river off with chains or rope and charge the trade barges going up/down the river a toll. After driving through France, Spain, Italy and Austria, it seems like tolls are a good profit stream in Europe.
Anyway, the town itself was supposed to be another great walled town. So, we decided to check it out and grab lunch. Again, it was more knickknack shops and, although slimmer streets, traffic passing by. And again, Sean started with a snack before lunch. This time, it was something that looked like a gyro but called something else. It ended up being pretty darn good. Nothing else in town appealed to me and I was just about to get another gyro thingy, but we somehow ended up in this courtyard that we wanted to investigate further. Inside was a restaurant called Posthof, if you could call it a restaurant. It had a bar and table for four on the ground floor, and three more sets of tables up in a balcony. Attached was also an art gallery. It was a very homely, intimate setting. At least, we could see ourselves living and working in a set up like this. We sat up in the balcony at a coffee table with sofa and lounge chairs. I had a “German pizza”, flatbread with smoky ham, light dusting of cheese and onions (which I picked off due to allergies) and, of course, some local white wine. Sean had bratwurst and beer (again).
With lunch out of the way and nap time approaching, we were back in the autobahn heading to Arnheim, The Netherlands. The speed of the traffic instantly changed as we crossed over the border. Everything felt like it was all the sudden in slow motion. But still, the drive didn’t seem too long.
We headed off to the town of Bacharach in the Rhine Valley. The original plan was to take a boat ride up the river and maybe ride bikes back. But, the weather was grey and it was later than we expected. We got a view of part of the river just getting down to the town of Bacharach and snapped off a few photos of the robber-baron castles. Barons would build these castles right on the banks of the Rhine River, or even in the middle of the river. Then, they would block the river off with chains or rope and charge the trade barges going up/down the river a toll. After driving through France, Spain, Italy and Austria, it seems like tolls are a good profit stream in Europe.
Anyway, the town itself was supposed to be another great walled town. So, we decided to check it out and grab lunch. Again, it was more knickknack shops and, although slimmer streets, traffic passing by. And again, Sean started with a snack before lunch. This time, it was something that looked like a gyro but called something else. It ended up being pretty darn good. Nothing else in town appealed to me and I was just about to get another gyro thingy, but we somehow ended up in this courtyard that we wanted to investigate further. Inside was a restaurant called Posthof, if you could call it a restaurant. It had a bar and table for four on the ground floor, and three more sets of tables up in a balcony. Attached was also an art gallery. It was a very homely, intimate setting. At least, we could see ourselves living and working in a set up like this. We sat up in the balcony at a coffee table with sofa and lounge chairs. I had a “German pizza”, flatbread with smoky ham, light dusting of cheese and onions (which I picked off due to allergies) and, of course, some local white wine. Sean had bratwurst and beer (again).
With lunch out of the way and nap time approaching, we were back in the autobahn heading to Arnheim, The Netherlands. The speed of the traffic instantly changed as we crossed over the border. Everything felt like it was all the sudden in slow motion. But still, the drive didn’t seem too long.
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