The penultimate day of our little holiday on ze continent.
When we left UK on 28 March, we still didn’t know if we would be Europeans 24 hours later, or whether we would need passports to get back in at Dover.
As it has turned out, we are still Europeans. At least, for a little bit longer.
After a great time busking yesterday in Gaggenau, Germany, we set off to find a campsite for the night.
Ruth found one. On the banks of the River Rhine, near Rudesheim.
We had decided to follow the river up towards home.
Soon after we settled in for the evening, it began to rain. And it rained all night long.
In the morning, it was as dull as ditchwater outside, so we packed our things and took to the road.
By 10 am we were on our way, heading in the general direction of North. No stars to guide us, just SatNav and Google Maps.
The aim was not clear, but to see how the day panned out for us.
The first stop was to have a look at Rudescheim (on the Rhine). Not the other one with the same name. A pretty little village with a tiny square and a big church.
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| Rudescheim |
We bought some lunch at a Lidl en route, and sat there in their car park overlooking the Rhine, as we watched the barges plying their way up and down the mighty river.
Then it was on to Koblenz. This is where the Rhine and the Moselle meet. A short break there to see what it was like. A longer stop in Koblenz another time, maybe. It looks like a place with a lot to see.
The route was to take us to Monschau, but we never got that far today. Mostly because I saw signs for Nurburgring. This, for the uninitiated, is a race track where for 30 Euros, one can drive one’s own car round the track at whatever speed you like. I stopped to look at the nutters driving round in their Porsches, BMWs, and Mercs. It looked a lot of fun. So we pulled in at the information desk to enquire if we could (yes, wait for it…..) take our campervan on the track.
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| Our van at Nurburgring! |
The first girl I asked was unsure. She asked her senior mate, who was at least 3 years older than her. She in turn, went to a back room to make sure of the rules. She came back in and asked if my windows were black in the side of our van.
Unsure of what the correct answer ought to be, I truthfully said, “Yes”.
To which she replied that as they were black windows, it would not be possible. And in any case, they wouldn’t let us do it today, either.
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| Nurburgring |
A very slight moment of disappointment possessed me for a microsecond. Not to worry. Let’s move on.
Ruth was having none of this however. She insisted that we did something there.
So we took ourselves to the go-karting track and had a session in the go-karts. Suffice to say, that it was great fun, and I am NOT going to tell you who came last out of the 8 karts in our 10 minute heat!
We had to wear a balaclava under our crash helmets. Ruth looked like she was wearing a Nurburgring burkha.
Moving on from there, we struggled to find a campsite. You should have seen me drive once we had left that Nurburgring car park. Lewis Hamilton, - I was!
Eventually we found one. It had great reviews. So we headed for it.
Camp Hammer, near Nationalpark Eifel, Germany. Not far from the Belgian border. In a beautiful part of the country. But still just in Germany.
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| Camp Hammer, Germany |
At the campsite entrance, I parked up near the Reception. I thought that was kind of sensible, but the camp commandant soon appeared, and told me to reverse back to the area designated for those wanting to book in. It was a few paces back.
The booking in process was far from simple. She needed to know virtually everything from my inside-leg measurement to my mother’s maiden name before we were admitted.
Then she issued us with two sheets of A4 laminated paper, for us to read the rules before she would accept our booking.
Then she told us that we needed to pay 20 Euros deposit for the swipe-card entry card.
And the full price of the night’s camping in advance.
Plus it was another 1 Euro to use the showers!
Halfway through this process she opened the window to bark at some small kids who were abusing the table-tennis area. They were quick to straighten up their act, I can tell you!
By this time I’d lost my patience with the woman! Ruth had to deal with Herren Commandant.
The final blow came.
She would only accept CASH.
No credit cards, or bank cards accepted. I guess that’s one reason why the German economy is so strong. No credit.
This was where I got the last laugh though.
Although the whole procedure was fantastically more complicated than it should have been, my revenge was wonderfully satisfying.
We have busked a few times while on this holiday, and had built up quite a reserve of small denominations coinage of Euros. If she wouldn’t take my credit card (and it seems quite a normal thing in German campsites), then she would have to take my CASH. I didn’t have enough notes. It would have to be coins! Yippee! At least I wouldn’t come home with loads of Euro coins.
43 Euros, in glorious coinage! My evening was made up!
We went for a meal in their bistro, and asked first if they took credit cards.
The commandant went to ask.
Yes!
We would be the first people to use a credit card in their bistro!!
A lovely meal of schwein schnitzel (breaded pork, deep fried, with chips) mit pommes fritz (or is it frittes?).
A great end tho our next to last day.
