Day Three: Aachen

I've just been corrected on my pronunciation of Aachen by the trendy hipster bar lady.

The fruit was still covered in flies this morning, so had an apple for my vitamins.  Caught the train out of Düsseldorf at 9am and arrived in Aachen after a very efficient ride through the industrial scenery.   

As soon as you walk out of Aachen station you are reminded of its equestrian heritage.  The first of many statues of horses stand in the square outside the entrance.

I romped into the city centre.  Aachen, unlike much of the region, is quite hilly.  The little streets and modestly impressive buildings make the centre quite attractive.  Being a Sunday in Germany, most shops were shut.  The only significant activity was the taking down of the structures for the Christmas market; vans and 4x4 pulled amazingly long flat bed trailers loaded with huge sheds.

I found the tourist information office - which was open.  An attractive and helpful woman behind the counter took great care and attention in helping me find the route to the football and equestrian stadiums, located to the north of the centre.  I was given a map and about three carefully selected photocopies of bus timetables and told to wait at bus stop 4 for the 11:02 departure of the number 51 bus.

At 11:18 I gave up waiting (I suspect the 51's route had been modified lately) and decided to walk up over the big hill to Soers area (a flat bit).  As I arrived 20 minutes later, and noticed that the number 51 bus service was clearly in service - I'd take the bus back.

The football stadium - home of Alemannia Aachen - was striking in its form and colour.  A modern and well designed football stadium, its yellow cladding was beaming in the winter sunshine. 

A new pedestrian footbridge provided a good view of the stadium and the neighbouring showgrounds - home of the world renowned CHIO-Aachen.  To provide a step free route, the bridge was a S-shaped ramp.  Great design. 

Next door the grounds of the CHIO-Aachen showground could be explored around the perimeter.  Two large stadiums, various open areas and a well equipped stabling area could all be seen at close hand.

Behind the grounds, open countryside and the borders of either Belgium and the Netherlands could be seen on the horizon (probably both - all three countries join at Aachen).  The fields contained obstacles used in the international carriage driving competitions. 

I spent two hours exploring the area.  And another half hour waiting in the cold for the next number 51 bus. 

Once back in Aachen I went inside the very well decorated and quite small cathedral and inside the historic town hall. I saw a cocker spaniel in a bakery.  However, most of the shops were shut but I did have a hot chocolate in a charioteers who sold you a block of chocolate and cup of hot milk.  

The train ride home was equally as uneventful as the ride to Aachen. 

Back in the trendy hipster bar.  Had a chat with the friendly trendy bar lady.  She spent some time in Cambridge as a nanny.  Hamburg is her favourite German city.  She has been to Berlin and enjoyed that. 

Just half a day tomorrow before I fly out. 

I wonder what Düsseldorf is like. 

 

Day two: Wuppertal, Cologne and Bonn (a bit too much for one day).

Up before dawn and before most other guests in the hotel.  Had a perfectly OK budget hotel breakfast.  I wasn’t sure about the dozen fruit flies that flew out of the fruit salad, but I needed the vitamins (from the fruit, not the flies). 

Still in the dark, I caught the tram to the Hautbahnhof (central station) and a very friendly railwayman with a big beard recommended that I get a regional travel day ticket.   With this I can travel on any form of public transport in North Rhine Westphalia, so long as it wasn’t an intercity or international train.

Caught the first regional train to Wuppertal, home of a famous overhead railway.  The journey to Wuppertal was uneventful, other than seeing many large industrial chemical works. 

The Wuppertal overhead railway thingy was very impressive.  I stood right under the track to take a photo of a passing train.  As it whizzed by a large quantity of water was dumped from the track on to the pavement to the side of me; a good job I was stood to the side. 

 

The stations look like something from an antique fairground.  And this is appropriate, as the ride quality on the overhead railway was reminiscent of an antique fairground ride.  The carriages swayed from side to side at the station, presenting a challenge to those boarding and alighting.  As the train moved quickly off, the ride quality was a little bumpy.

The overhead railway follows the route of the river Wupper, a fast flowing river (presumably not navigable) that goes along the valley occupied by the city it gives its name to.  As the river twisted through the valley bottom, so did the overhead railway, making the carriage sway and bank as it sped along. 

After getting out and walking through the town centre, I decided to cut my losses – Wuppertal in the winter is pretty unremarkable.  I caught a train back out, but this time to Cologne. 

Approaching Cologne you can see the large indoor arena and the trade fair exhibition buildings.  Both are impressively large.  To enter the station, trains cross an imposing steel bridge over the Rhine.  Looking towards the river I noticed what looked to be brown leaves attached to the fencing separating a pedestrian walkway from the railway line.  

Once out of the station and past the dark and imposing cathedral I was able to take a closer look at the fence.  It was covered in padlocks.  The tradition, it seems, is for lovers to secure a padlock to the fence with their names inscribed on the metal case, and then throw the key in to the river below.  There must be tens of thousands of padlocks.   I lost count of the number of Helmuts (boys’ names) and sniggered at a Fanny (a girl’s name). 

The Cathedral is covered in black soot and could do with a clean.  Some restoration work is underway in a few parts.  The interior of the Dom is equally dark.  Two imposing church wardens in red robes stand guard at the entrance, asking disrespectful tourists to remove their caps.  Each warden carried a wooden box over their stomachs, held by a rope around their necks.  I wanted to ask what the box was for, but they looked quite angry. 

I had a quick look inside a few local attractions without going so far as to venture beyond the reception (that would require payment).  A large classical music venue and museum seemed quite interesting.   A small square to the side of this was empty, with stewards shouting at those who dared to walk on its hallowed paving blocks.  A sign on a pole asked politely, but firmly, that people not walk on the square, as an underground concert theatre was in use and the footsteps would cause a disturbance (a bit of a design oversight).

 

The shopping centre was very busy.  Amidst the bustle workers were dismantling the Christmas market stalls and huge Christmas tree, branch by branch.  Some blokes walked passed this, wearing red outfits and hats with massive feathers.  Not sure what that was about, but they smiled politely as tourists like me took photos.  

 Having a quick look around the centre, I decided to move on and headed back to the station.  En route, I stumbled across a wedding convoy, cars beeping their horns as if they were at a football match.  The bride was beaming ear to ear as the cortege was cheered and photographed by passersby.  Marvellous stuff. 

So on to Bonn, a small town in Germany and formally the capital of West Germany.  The town centre was just like any provincial precinct, except for a large statue of Ludwig von Beethoven, topped off by a nesting pigeon in his thick bronze locks of hair.   

Charming

I managed to catch a tram out to the area formally occupied by government buildings.  The area around Willy Brandt Allee has various modern buildings and a few pretty old streets.  I had a look around a museum about post-war German history.  The exhibits were good, but the captions were mostly in German (a shame as the leaflet I collected was in English). 

Feeling exhausted I slowly headed back to Dusseldorf.  I had to jump off the train at Cologne as I realised I’d taken an intercity express train (which was very nice) and this was not covered by my ticket.  It was an hour wait for the next Dusseldorf train, an hour filled by walking around in circles. 

The journey back to home had a few interesting moments.  Several people passed thorough collecting any waste bottles they could find.  Another chap walked down the carriage, placing small stuffed toys and laminated note onto each table.  He then walked back through, aggressively demanding EUR4 or the toy (and note) back.

I was struck by how industrial this region is.  At once, I could see three of four well illuminated chemical works on the broad dark horizon.  I passed a very modern stable yard, again well illuminated.  And, as the train was coming into the city centre, I noticed a large building which was dark, apart from the floor running level with the elevated railway tracks.  As we passed I noticed the rooms were awash with red light, each window had a number (1-29) and a woman standing in just her underwear.  Very odd.

Ghosts in Cologne

 A bath and a bit of telly soon got the aches out of the legs.  The TV programme as about training problems horses.  It was in German, so I didn’t exactly know what was going on, but it seemed a naughty pony was taught to be good by his owner waving at it with tea towel on a stick. 

 

Chuckle Brothers exhibit.

I’m writing this in the trendy hipster bar.  The woman working behind the bar is still friendly, but looks pissed off.  The WiFi isn’t working, people keep complaining and she doesn’t know what do to about it.

What’s German for “switch it off and on”?

Dusseldorf: Day One

So I’ve made it to Düsseldorf. 

The M6 was buggered, so the journey from Burnley to Birmingham took two hours longer than planned.  Booking a taxi whilst taking a pee at a motorway service station, I took a gamble.  If I could get to Brum airport for 5pm, I should be able to dash through security and make it to the gate with 30 minutes to go. The plan was a success and I even had time for half a Guinness before the gate was called.

“Just half?!” snorted the portly woman behind the bar.

“Yes”, I said calmly, whilst thinking, ‘I’m about to board and it’s none of your sodding business.’

It cost £2.  For half a pint.

Anyway.  The flight was short at just an hour.   Short enough for me to squeeze in another half a pint on the plane.  That cost £4.  For half a pint. 

At the airport I easily caught the S Bahn to the central station (Düsseldorf Hbf).  I had 50c and 25 minutes to spare, so I decided to see what I could get from the platform vending machine.  The large machine had three items in stock.  For 50c I could get a packet of Mentos, so I popped the 50c piece in and pressed 1 and 2 on the key pad.  Number 28 (an empty spiral thingy) turned and bugger all came out. 

Thankfully, the ticket machine was not a thief and, moreover, had the option of English instructions and EUR2.50 was a bargain for the efficient 12 minute ride to the centre of Düsseldorf. 

My first impression is that the people of Düsseldorf seem to speak very softly and then not very much.  After walking onto the main concourse, some random homeless woman asked me for something in a very quiet, almost shy manner.  I just shook my head and she apologised.  Quietly.  The old moustachioed  bloke at the information desk was a little meek. 

“Hullo. Spre-ken sie English?” I offered. 

The moustache didn’t move.

“Do you speak English?"  I asked, in English – wondering if my attempt at German was counter-productive.

The ‘tache twitched... I took that as a yes and asked for a map.  He obliged.  In silence.

Then, whist waiting for the efficient German tram, a softly spoken mad dog lady, with small dog in a pram and another dog on a lead asked very politely for something.  And then apologised after I shook my head.

The hotel’s reviews are accurate.  It is a very efficient and very clean crap hotel.  I don’t think it has been redecorated in several decades.  The staff are helpful.  I seem to have had breakfast added to my booking.  I look forward to seeing how good that is in the morning.

After I dumped my stuff in my Soviet inspired hotel room, I went to Bar Apartment.  It’s a trendy hipster bar.  

My beer, two hipsters and a bicycle

“Ein beer, bitte” I splutted.  The lass behind the bar didn’t speak and gave me a bottle of beer.  The label was plain white with black lettering: “Bier”

 

I sat at the end of a long trendy retro table.  The trendy bar pulled off using old furniture and made it look modern and chic.  The hotel just uses old furniture.  Perhaps the bar’s chandelier and wall-mounted bicycle add something that the hotel’s wood chip wallpaper can’t? 

By the time I ordered my second beer, the lass behind the bar was speaking in English to me.  She was very thoughtful and stopped me from accidentally ordering an alcohol free beer.  What a thoughtful woman. 

Most of the women in the bar were wearing oversized spectacle frames, whilst the men sported beards and jumpers.  I blended in quite well for the only person sat on his own. 

Got back to the hotel room to discover I had forgotten my toothbrush.  Searching through my bag I found a box of matches – not sure how I got those through security.