Dorfy Day Trips: The Kaiser of Koblenz

The Kaiser Wilhelm I statue in Koblenz,
and some dude in white pants. 

Every nation wants you to visit their national monuments. Pay admission and walk to the top of some tower, the tour guide states. Marvel at a gigantic statue of some dear leader, says the travel book. Gape in awe at some building erected in the honour of the fatherland, motherland, the workers, the people, the nation, whoever, whatever, declares the poster.

Germany is one modern exception to this rule. It's a country with very few monuments celebrating itself. The Brandenburg Gate? That was built in the name of peace in the 1770s. The Berlin Victory Column? That was erected by the Prussians, not the glorious German Empire, Reich, or Republic. 

There seems to be few monuments to Germany.

Then there's Koblenz, with its Deutsches Eck (literally meaning German Corner) that sits at the confluence of the Rhine and Moselle Rivers, where a gigantic statue of a long dead German kaiser stands. 

This type of German monumentality is a rare thing, largely because most of this stuff was knocked down during the war – including this statue – and never rebuilt. After the statue in Koblenz was levelled, its stone stump was left to represent a desire to reunite East and West Germany. When they reunited in 1991, the statue was rebuilt.

And yet, for all is big, kingly brashness, the statue is not only off the tourist radar, but isn't the sole "must-see" in Koblenz. The Eck itself has a beautiful view of the meeting rivers and the high hills on the other bank, which are topped with a fortress.

Koblenz's real prize is its pedestrian-only promenade along the Rhine. It's one of the prettiest I have seen along this river. It runs south, with the river on one side and historic buildings (or rebuilt historic buildings) on the other. There is no car traffic, yet plenty of trees and benches and chirping birds and greenery. The restaurants are set far enough back that they don't intrude on the riverside strolling, but still close enough that you can gaze at the river over a cold drink.

All of this shows that maybe it's the little things that make a city worth visiting, and not the monumental things.

The stone relief of the statue's stump.

An Aside about the Hills:

Hungarians love the hills. Travel enough with a Hungarian who lives in the flatlands of the Rhineland, and you will regular hear exclamations whenever hills come into view. This is what happened as we took the train into the hilly terrain around Koblenz.

The city is considered the gateway into the Romantic Rhine, a hilly, windy stretch of the river dotted with vineyards and castles. This has always been on our list for a visit, but we haven't quite gotten around to it yet. The Koblenz day trip has reawakened that desire. 

August: Europe's Quiet Month

It's August and northern Europe has essentially shut down for the month.

Every July, there's a rush to finish work before the client goes on holidays or before an ad agency boss goes on vacation or to lessen the mountain of work that await upon return from your August adventures.

Then July ends and there are fewer emails with the urgent exclamation point icon. There are fewer rushed meetings with end-of-day deadlines and fewer meltdowns. There are still emails and meetings and stress, but it all takes on a less frantic, less urgent tone.

Getting into August, it's worth mentioning that workers in Germany and Hungary get a set amount of paid holidays by law that increases based on their age. For someone my age, it works out to about four weeks.

This is a far cry from Canada, where the amount is set at two weeks and any increases are the result of individual contract negotiations, seniority at a company (if the company does that), or a collective bargaining agreement (which is becoming rarer since Canadian workers are sadly becoming adept at dismantling their labour unions).

I'm not mentioning this to make my North American friends envious (unless you're unionized, then you're fine), but to point out that more of holidays make it easy to take off chunks of August to visit tropical destinations or lounge on a Greek island or, if you're German, takeover a finca on a Balaeric Island.

This August, we're not doing any of that. Paying rent on the current flat and the old one, along with the previous Lisbon trip and an upcoming Budapest visit, has meant things are a bit tighter this August. It's been a month of weekend day trips, of beers on blankets in the park, and lazy, rainy afternoons on the couch – of which there are many in northern Germany.

There are advantages to sticking around when everyone else has ditched the Dorf for sunnier places. For starters, the city itself feels a little less crowded – save for the bachelor parties that stagger through the Altstadt's breweries. 

The pace of the city itself slows – maybe an affect of the warmer weather on the thick-blooded Germans. Going a bit slower, you're able to notice the sunnier side of the German summer, like the 10pm sunsets or temperatures that drift towards 25 degrees – when it isn't raining, of course.

And so you linger on the side-street patios over one more drink, you bike a bit further along the Rhine bike paths, you embrace the sweatshirt-shorts combo to endure the chilly mornings but prepare for a possibly warmer afternoon and evening.

Yes, swimming in the Adriatic might be great in August, but despite the high possibility of cold, rain, and clouds, I can live with the German summer too.

Deeps thoughts on the Rhine Promenade.

Lisbon, Europe's First International City

Lisbon is a lot of cities. It's Portugal's capital city. It's a food city. A party city. An old city. A medieval city. A modern city.

Most of all, it is Europe's very first truly international city. 

Before New York was New York, before everyone dropped anchor in Amsterdam, before they came to London or Paris or even Rome, Lisbon was where the world came to Europe. 

And because it came aboard Portuguese ships, the flavour this internationality left on the city is unique. The architecture, the food, the city itself all feels like it might be from somewhere else, but has enough of a touch of Portuguese that it does not feel out of place.


A Pile of Tiles

It is forbidden to depict any of Islam's big players. While Europe's artist were painting bearded Jesus pictures, Arab artists were stuck painting lines and shapes. 

Because the Arab's were also the world's medieval mathletes – they invented zero – and because their hot tropical climate was hard on oil paints, they created intricate geometric patterns with tiles. 

The Portuguese picked up this tile making, and being good Christians they ditched the geometric patterns and put Jesus and flowers and God and stuff on the tiles. Then they got more intricate, creating huge pieces of art with dozens or hundreds of bits of tile. 


Today, many of the city's buildings are covered with tiles and they lend the city an Arab look, even though these tiles remain a Portuguese trend, and a specialty.

When the Holy Spirit strikes!

Tile peeping.

Lisbon Feels Like Lisbon

Travel to any big, popular to visit city in Europe and you end up marvelling at how lovely it is. You also find yourself marvelling at how people can live there? Rome was like that. Paris is apparently like this. I always thought the middle of London was a lot like that, unless you were super rich. How do normal people live in a touristic town that, as a result of its touristic-ness, feels blandly touristic?

The core of a city, with its museums, monuments, points of interests, shops, kiosks, restaurants, hotels, hostels, bars, and cafes, is the draw for visiting tourists. As more tourists come, the city's centre becomes less about offering these things for the locals and more about accommodating tourists – or fleecing them, depending on your level of cynicism.

Lisbon's centre is compact, making it great for tourists to like to walk or stroll or amble about from point of interest to restaurant to museum to bar and back to the hotel.

While the 12 squares blocks in the centre of the city's centre has been given over to these hordes of tourists, the actual places you want to visit – Alfama, the city's maze-like Medieval district and the Bairro Alto, the city's nightlife area – are also in the centre, yet still feel like Lisbon, not a watered down touristy Lisbon.

My theory is that Lisbon, as a port city linking Europe with Brazil, India, Africa, and the Far East has been accustomed to having visitors for almost five hundred years. Locals live in these great neighbourhoods, and used to eating and drinking cheek-and-jowl with the herds of visitors. 

They have enough practice with hundreds of years of tourists to not feel like they have to surrender the city centre to them and flee to the suburbs. It adds a welcoming spirit to the city when you're out on the town.

Alfama: A Lisbon hood with its own vibe.

Lacking in Lockers

This cool reception for tourists has its downside. Everywhere we went, it seemed the city was wholly unprepared for the thousands of foreign visitors who flocked to the city.

The major subway stations were choked with tourists lining up to refill their transit cards. A few more machines at these busy stations surely would help the lines move quickly. 

Staying in an Airbnb with a morning checkout time and a late afternoon flight meant our luggage had to go somewhere. We spent over an hour going to various train and subway stations looking for a locker. Each station had a small wall of lockers, all occupied. In some stations, there were tourists zealously guarding an empty locker while a friend made change.

Lisbon is an international city, but in some ways it felt wholly unprepared for its international visitors.


Food

A colleague from Lisbon offered up his tips for the city. I figured it would be advice for beaches and points of interest, with a few bars and restaurants. 

The tip list we got was largely restaurant recommendations, with some pointers on where to find the good places to drink. What made the list so interesting was not its length, but its variety. 

The eateries we visited were not just seafood spots, although the seafood we ate was deliciously fresh. Our choices on list and along the streets included all sorts of cuisines – Indian, Moroccan, Asian, and many more – but many were fused with different cultures and flavours together. And they did it well. After all, cultures and nations have been mixing and fusing in Lisbon for hundreds of years.


Architecture

While the late Gothic architectural craze that was raging across Europe on the 1500s, Portugal conceived its own architectural style. Taking a bit of the Spanish, and combining that with Morrish and Indian influences, Portugal created Manueline architecture.

Sadly, most Manueline buildings were constructed in Lisbon, so many were destroyed in the earthquake and tsunami of 1755 (the Alfama district was spared). There are a few examples still standing like the Jeronimos Monastary, in Belem, just outside of Lisbon.

The church in the Jeronimos Monastary.

No point in talking about architectural influences at the Summer Palace in Sintra – just look.

Unrelated: Going Off the Grid

My data plan was inoperative in Portugal because I have a lousy cellphone provider and a lousy cellphone. Getting shut out from Facebook, Twitter, and most of the news, this year still being 2016, turned out to be a good thing.

Then I returned and learned that some sort of Pokemon Go phenomenon occurred while I was away. I learned about it upon my return, but I still don't understand it.


If you go...

Drink the Green Wine: 
Or Vinho Verde, as the locals call it. It's a bubbly young wine that I ignorantly avoided, thinking it was like champagne, which I am not crazy about it. It's actually dry and only slightly bubbly, like a fröccs – great for afternoon drinking on Portuguese patios.

Buy a transit card: 
Lisbon is a compact city, but you will take a train if you want to hit the beaches or go to Belem, where there are a few nice sites and a cafe where the Pastel di Nata (Portuguese egg tarts – was invented. You'll save a lot of money if you get a transit card and refill it as you go.

Look for random places to eat: 
We stayed in a mixed neighbourhood of locals and tourists. There were many restaurants, but the best were the places with little signage, bright lights, and normal-looking furniture on tile floors. Do not be deterred. Get in there and eat up!