Amstel Gold Sportif: Getting Really Damp in the Limburger Alps

As one of the very few (12,000?) successful lottery winners allowed to participate in the sportif version of the Amstel Gold race, I was of two minds about the event.  Thrilled to be included in the most recent Classic race, established only in 1966, and given the chance to ride a part of the course of the Netherlands’ most importance cycling event, I was also concerned about the very narrow roads and the climbs, particularly so early in the season.  My training efforts had come to naught in Spring, with only 300 kms or so on the road, but I figured that I had all day to finish the 150 kms of the Amstel Gold sportif.

So, this is what a Qashqai is!  They changed the name for Australia since they were worried the Aussies would nickname it "Cash Cow"

Leaving on Friday the 13th afternoon in April, I went to Sixt to get my wheels for the weekend.  The car rental people had wanted to give me an automatic but couldn’t find one but they said they would make it up by letting me have a better class of car than the VW Golf I had requested.  Since I thought it would be good to have some space, I ended up with a little Nissan diesel SUV which was built in England and rejoices in the model name of Qashqai, which is not as hard to pronounce as it looks.  The name apparently derives from a Turkish nomadic tribe.  The car had 800 km on it so I was determined to be as careful and not repeat the scraping-on-the-narrow-wall incident ($$$) from my last rental adventure.  My bike and baggage fitted in with plenty of space and away we rolled.

First stop was Aachen where I collected the Thin Man, who had taken the train from Berlin.  I was looking for him in front of the station and expecting to see his bike, but I had forgotten all about it being equipped with S&S couplers to make it transportable, so he walked up to me just with two pieces of luggage and we were quickly on the road again.

We were staying in a holiday resort place in Mechelen which actually looked to me like a suburban townhouse development in many places in North America.  We had a three-storey unit which was rather narrow as when we sat in the kitchen on the ground floor we had to put the bikes outside, as we discovered when the Thin Man built up his bicycle.  It is an interesting operation to watch and I am always impressed that the bicycle goes back together.  Travelling with bikes is always awkward at best but I would not trust my ability to reassemble something as complex as it appears.  The Thin Man told me later that during the ride one of the couplers had started to loosen up so I guess it is a good idea to carry the special wrench all the time.

Next on the plan was to drive to Valkenburg, which the GPS said was 13 kms away to pick up our start packages.  This was where our event would start and finish on Saturday.  We jumped into the Qashqai (Nissan markets the car under a different name in Australia as they were worried that the Aussies would call it “Cash cow”) and the nav system told us it was only about 14 kms but that it would take more than 30 minutes to get there.  I soon realized why as I gained experience on Dutch roads, which are designed to terrify foreigners driving strangely-named big fat SUVs, which would be mini-SUVs anywhere else.  The roads are basically a very wide single lane, with bike lanes marked on either side.  You drive happily in the middle until you see another car coming, in which case you pull over to the right and drive partly on the bike lane.  If there is a cyclist there–and the Netherlands does not lack for them–you just slow down and wait.  This required some extra caution but it also meant that our speed was about the same as it would have been going by bike.

We passed an interesting castle or two and then finally arrived in Valkenburg.  Our first attempt at parking actually put us on the far side of town so we figured out more precisely where we needed to be and drove down the even more narrow streets of the old town, weaving gently between masses of racing cyclists.  If Amstel Gold does indeed allow 12,000 riders for its tourist event, they were all coming to register with us.

We found a good parking lot after moving through the masses and made our way to the sports centre where the registration was taking place.  There were lots of banners for Amstel Gold beer and piles of empty cans and a full bar.  The Specialized bike people were in evidence and had several of their top bikes, including a Tarmac SL4 belonging to Aleksandre Vinoukourov of Team Astana, a McLaren Venge (MSRP is, I think, US$ 15,000) at the top of the stand, along with a Shiv time trial bike from Team Saxo Bank.

There were lots and lots of people but the ladies manning the registration area were wonderfully organized and in only a few moments we had our registration kits, which included a number for the handlebars which included an RFID chip, a larger number for our backs, various fasteners, route cue sheets, maps and instructions discouraging us from “wildplassen,” or urinating in public places.

 
On the way out we were met by two lovely tall Dutch ladies with beer coaster dresses and hats representing Amstel Gold beer.  I had my picture taken with them and we were provided with two cans of Amstel’s latest brew.  It is called “O.O” because it has, well, no alcohol.

Back into the Qashqai and down the road we went in search of food.  Cyclists need to stock up on lots of eats and many of those 12,000 expected cyclists had shown up at about the only food store we saw enroute, a Spar located close to the Brand brewery, since all the bananas except for three sorry-looking ones were left.  We did get some wonderful cheese, the makings of a basic pasta dinner, milk, cereal and some other healthy things, along with some very unhealthy ones, such as the famous “stroopwaffels,” the unavoidable and irresistable Lowlands cookies which must have a great deal of honey in them.  I saw that potato chips were 2 Euros for a big bag so we bought two of them only to have the nice lady at the cash tell us that they were actually three big bags for 2 Euros, so we grabbed another one.

We got back to Mechelen without further incident and got our housekeeping organized.  Soon we were joined by our third rider, Thomas, who came in from Krefeld.  After loading up on dinner and enjoying some of the Maisels Weisse beer I had brought, we had a long discussion about how we would get to the start on Saturday.  Thomas, who was going back to Krefeld directly after the ride, said that he would drive his car over.  The Thin Man was leaning towards riding the 11 or 12 kms to the start and I was debating it myself but finally thought that if the weather was going to continue to be so cold that extra distance so early on would be quite unpleasant.  In the end it was decided to go with both cars and find a reasonably close parking space instead of fighting our way through traffic to the start line.

the Thin Man and Thomas, ready to roll!

A too short night’s sleep and we were up at 5:30 to eat breakfast and get our gear packed.  It was bitterly cold and as we drove to the start I felt that we had made the wise decision to go by car.  We found a huge parking lot just on the outskirts of Valkenburg that I had noticed the day before and there was plenty of space.  The challenge lay in getting enough coins together to buy a parking ticket for the entire day but thanks to some helpful Dutch riders who could explain the system it was pretty easy.  On the bikes and we rode through the old town about 2 kms to the start line, passing the registration place and then joining a huge throng going through the inflated arches marking the start.  There were photographers all over the place, as well as automated video systems, as we were to learn, along the entire course.  We passed over a timing mat, smiled for the photographers and were on our way at last: the long-awaited Amstel Gold sportif!

The Thin Man, an enthusiastic racer and a good climber, was off to a fast start and rode at his own tempo up the first hill, about 3 kms into the ride, and that was the last we saw of him.  I tried to keep Thomas in sight but with the masses of riders around it was not so easy and I pretty quickly accepted that in an event like this everyone has to ride their own pace.
 

The weather had warmed up a little but it was still overcast and cool which, given the number of little hills we were constantly going up and down, was not such a bad thing.  My general impressions of the event: very narrow, twisty roads with lots of “street furniture” in the way that required some vigilance to avoid; huge numbers of very fit-looking riders, overwhelmingly Dutch and abnormally tall; impressive numbers of very fit-looking female Dutch riders, who easily overtook me at will.  Dutch riders were sometimes a bit overconfident in their bike handling as more than once someone would pass me then immediately cut in front, forcing me to brake.  At times the roads were so narrow that they actually were more like riding along through sunken ditches.  Auto traffic was fairly limited and very respectful.

I felt that things were going pretty well, considering my limited preparation.  Some of the hills had big numbers on them for the professional event and although we were riding them somewhat out of order, I contemplated that fact that we would ride 12 and the pros 31 yet somehow I was sure we were riding far more than 12.  Of course, here in the Limburger Alps a lot of the bits of landscape I considered hills were not even counted.  It was going to be a long day after all...

At just over 50 kms we came to the first food stop, where I quickly caught up to Thomas.  In addition to the usual bananas and energy drinks, there were lots of waffles to enjoy and I cheerfully gorged myself.  But not wanting to get cold meant getting back on the bike and continuing.  My left leg was a bit sore but otherwise things were going quite well.  I did notice that I was not drinking enough and resolved to get some more fluids in.

Most people were riding good racing bikes, although there were also a few mountain bikes in the mix.  At one point we passed an older Dutch gentlemen returning from his shopping on his city bike.  He was moving quite well but I was still somewhat surprised when he passed us on the next long descent.  But I figured he was carrying some additional weight plus knew the road well but while we passe him at the beginning of the next climb he wasn’t going to let that happen and managed to ride past us–uphill.  Ah, the Dutch!

My enjoyable Saturday ride was threatened at around 80 kms as we rode though some light rain showers but these passed, to my relief, and soon it was dry again.  The next highlight was probably riding into Belgium briefly and then beginning a climb to the highest point in Belgium, marked by an observation tower, followed very soon after by the highest point in the Netherlands, marked by an observation tower.

 
But the fun did not last for much longer: at 100 kms the heavens opened and for the next 50 kms I would “enjoy” one of my most miserable cycling experiences.

Sure, nobody picks Holland as a travel destination because of the fine weather but this was ridiculous.  The rain poured down, cold and relentless, and many cyclists stopped under overpasses or in bus shelters.  After fifteen minutes I was thinking I could not get much wetter so I thought it just better to press on and finish the stupid ride.  Having won my place in the event through a draw, I was not feeling much like a lottery winner as the rain blasted us.

But wait: what’s this?  Turning a corner into a climb we were not only greeted by a ferocious headwind but by hail pelting our faces.  It was painful and I could feel my upper lip and cheeks swelling from the impact.  At least everyone looked as if they were suffering as much as I was!

I had done quite well on the hills so far but a sign indicated that I was now about to meet the Keutzenberg, advertised as the “steepest hill in Holland.”  That may not sound like much but I quickly discovered after the 4% grade at the start that a 22% grade is just that, wherever you are.  I was already getting very tired from the cold and my legs just wouldn’t do their stuff so I had to suffer the indignity of pushing my bike uphill for a few hundred meters.  I was not the only one so humiliated although the very tall, very skinny, very well-trained riders passing on the left gave me no comfort even though they were hurting too.

That bit of hell passed, back on the bike but now I did not do much more riding in the big chainring.  My soaked gloves and tights and freezing feet were not improving my mood and the next stretch of road, a wide and busy regional road past flat farmland, was fantastically dull.  Now it was time to call the last reserves of strength as I was down to the last 20 kms of the ride and was certain I would prevail.

The rain did not let up at all as I approached Valkenburg and the famous Cauberg, which the pros ride something like seven times in all for the Amstel Gold race.  The route takes you around the town as the Cauberg is actually on the outskirts.  I was very tired and wet and cold as I began the climb but in a surprisingly good mood now.  At 400 m to go I got a bad cramp in my leg and had to stop and rub it out and then at 200 m it happened again, but on the other leg.  I finished off my last water as I stood on the course, got back on the bike and summoned my strength for my Big Sprint Finish across the line.

I saw a cyclist in a white rain jacket ahead and to my left and as I overtook him with a last burst of speed I realized it was my friend Thomas, so I held back a bit and we rode across the line together.  It was a huge relief to be done and we were directed off the course and towards some tents.  We received our medals (which hilariously double as beer bottle openers!) and as we came to the big tents where entertainment was in full swing, we both decided that the last thing we needed was a Dutch disco.

To get back to our cars we had to loop around the town again and follow part of the course downhill once more.  I lost Thomas and then as I was riding to the car I became confused and was unable to find the parking lot.  I went back to the Old Town to try to retrace our path from the morning but I was so cold and wet I could not make my brain work very well.  I did have my cellphone and was able to call the Thin Man, who was already back in Mechelen, but the effort of pressing the keys with my violently shaking hands was huge.  I also got a call from Thomas, who was in the parking lot and wondering where I was.  He gave me directions and I got back on the bike and headed down the same road I had been on before.  If I only would have gone an extra 200 m the first time I would have found the car!

Anyway, I stripped off some of my wet gear, put the bike in the back and then sat in the car with the heater turned up all the way for a good 15-20 minutes.  After I stopped shaking I was able to put the Qashqai into gear and drive back uneventfully to Mechelen.

The Amstel Gold sportif is extremely well-organized (except for the weather, sadly) and for the most part takes you through very charming landscapes.  Not only we were photographed and videoed along the way, our times were taken for each individual leg and people could follow our suffering from home.  I had a good start with the first leg averaging 23 km/h but then as the weather turned and the hills increased my speed dropped until my final time, including two food stops and a few photo stops, gave me an average of 17.4 km/h.  The route is on my GPS and I will go back to Valkenburg to ride the course again (and beat the Keutzenberg!) when we have better weather.  Still, I would recommend participating if you can “win” the lottery too.

After a very good night’s sleep, I awoke with a much more positive attitude and after the Thin Man and I gorged on a huge breakfast, we took our somewhat-cleaned bikes out to watch the pro race go by.  Although it would go through Mechelen three times, we picked a nearby hill which would be more interesting than a flat fly-past at speed.  Joining us was a fellow-cycling blogger from Australia, Sandra, whose blog I have read for a number of years and enjoyed but I had never had the opportunity to meet her.  She has been travelling with her husband Alberto through Europe with a motor home, taking in all the great races and riding famous routes.  It was great to finally meet her and Alberto and after making contact in Mechelen we rode up the nearby hill and awaited the peloton. 

German speakers from Australia and Canada meet in the Netherlands! 

A small breakaway group of about ten riders tore past us at a speed I do not recall doing at the same rate the day before on this same hill and some 12 minutes later the main pack followed.  I was struck, once again, by how narrow the roads are, especially with a surging peloton going by.  After all the team cars had gone, we rode back down the hill and went into a restaurant in Mechelen for some good solid Dutch food and where the Thin Man, who is fluent in German but less so in Dutch, ended up with something completely different than he thought he had ordered.  No matter: we all had a good time, first with eating together and then rushing outside to see the breakaway and peloton go by once again through the main road in Mechelen.

I managed to even make a short video for the blog, showing the action on the hill as well as on the flat in Mechelen:




It was bitterly cold and we all felt that was enough spectating for the day so we took our leave and the Thin Man and I returned to our apartment, packed up our gear and did the short drive back to Düsseldorf.  The next day, Monday, the Thin Man had to leave for appointments in Cologne and Bonn and I had to go to the office but that evening I was back in the Qashqai and driving westwards again, this time to Belgium and the Fleche Wallonne sportif ride on Tuesday.  But that’s another story!

Here is the Amstel Gold sportif course: very very complicated!

Return to Münsterland: Yet More Castles, Please!

After my successful visit to Münsterland last summer (although the weather was not very summery!), I spent the second half of the Easter Weekend visiting my friends in Laer and setting out on the next leg of my own “100 Castles Tour,” with my plan being to enjoy Easter Sunday with my friends Carmen and Uwe and participate in the thrilling backyard Easter Egg Hunt with 2 year old Franziska and then reserve Monday for a long ride doing part of the 100 Castles route Northwestern loop before taking the train back to Düsseldorf in the evening.

Leaving the big city on the 8:12 InterCity, I was the only person in the train car and, needless to say, the Blue Basso was the only bike to be seen as well.  I enjoyed the quiet trip of about 75 minutes and disembarked in Münster, where the main train station has been under reconstruction for what seems like several decades, and quickly made my way to the parking lot where I met Uwe, who was driving a very impressive black Skoda Superbe station wagon rental car.  Although I had installed mudguards on the Basso, it was no problem fitting the bike into the back with only the front wheel removed.  A quick 20 minute ride and we were back in Laer.

In addition to my friends and their little girl, there was another couple there with there 2 year old, Lily.  After an extended and relaxing breakfast, we all put on our warm clothing and went out into the yard for the Easter Egg Hunt.  This was very entertaining as the two 2 year olds basically had no clue what to do as they stood there with collecting baskets.  Helpful parents directed the toddlers to the various caches of eggs (which were in rather plain sight) and after a good deal of pointing and urging everyone had a large haul.  And the visitor from Düsseldorf was treated to a big Lindt dark chocolate bunny.

Chapel near Laer

The sun was shining brightly and with the weather forecast for Monday looking decidedly grim, I decided to change my plans and attempt my castle tour on Easter Sunday, although I realized that with my propensity for getting lost (even with the GPS) an afternoon start on a 115 km long course would not be so smart so I figured I would just shorten it a bit.

Leaving Laer around 1:30, my first leg took me a mere 6 kms to Horstmar, which in spite of its population of 6,000 is deemed to be a “city.”  I passed the old railway station and noticed a lot of construction in the area around it.  Just to the north of the station begins a beautifully paved rails-to-trails bike route and the construction indicates that the right-of-way paving will continue to Laer.  I wanted to take a photo of the bike route, which Uwe later told me goes 40 km to Rheine, and at that moment two cyclists on racing bikes obligingly passed by, making a more interesting photo!

I rode into the city itself, passing the Schmitz Cargobull logistics office and warehouse (once the largest sock factory in Europe when Horstmar was a textile centre) and came through two pillars marking the boundary of the old town.  Horstmar, which was first established in the 9th Century, has a very odd feature.  It is set out as a big square and within the one-time city wall were a number of “Burgmannhof” features, which were basically walled compounds within the walled city.  These were occupied by the gentry or lower nobility and had a defensive purpose.  Their owners had administrative functions to play as well in the town.  Of the original eight Burgmannhöfe in Horstmar, five still exist and I took pictures of two of them.

In addition to this novel feature, the city has a fine Altes Rathaus dating to 1571 and used for meetings and weddings now, along with an impressive church that goes back to the 14th Century.  I was so impressed by Horstmar that I rode out of town unintentionally failing to go look at Haus Alst, the castle that I came to add to my list.  It is found a bit to the northeast and easily reached from Laer.  Next time!

My route took me further west now to Schöppingen along a rather busy Bundestrasse.  The course I laid out before leaving took me somewhat the wrong way but not only did I see the very nice 1538 Rathaus but I also found the local mill museum, which disappointed somewhat through its lack of a waterwheel.  It stands on the little Vechte river, which apparently offers a bike route along its 160 km length.  The mill also offered two signs in Platte, the regional dialect, and the locals are so proud of their dialect that they have posted poems in Platte at various bikepath points, something I have never seen before in Germany, which has no shortage of regional dialects.

Leaving Schöppingen I rode north towards Metelen and then proceeded to take a really boring main road further north to Wettringen, a place I had not really intended to visit but which I had confused with nearby Welbergen.  I had passed a sign for Haus Welbergen, which was one of my castles for the day, but thought I could go around and still get there.  This was completely wrong and I as I sat eating a sandwich in front of the nondescript Rathaus in boring Wettringen, I decided to try to find Haus Welbergen and then shorten my route back to Laer instead of proceeding to Bad Bentheim and Rheine as I had planned.  Easier said than done.

My navigation skills failed me as I headed toward Ochtrup, which was not really on my itinerary but soon I headed south through Welbergen, but no Haus Welbergen there, of course, and I missed the Villa Jordan, a fancy 1920s mansion built for the van Heek family (more anon).  I was on a marked dirt bike path which was pleasant enough but since I was not sure where I was going I asked an older lady walking her dog how to get to Haus Welbergen.  She directed me through the next village, Langenhorst, and said that once I left that place I should turn left and I should get to Haus Welbergen, which was perhaps 1 km out of town.  She mentioned that Langenhorst had a particularly nice church.

The church was built from 1180-1225 (although damaged badly by fire in the 16th Century) and is indeed impressive.  It served as the church for an Augustinian abbey until 1576 when a foundation of noblewomen took over the church and abbey for charitable purposes.

Haus Welbergen

After several wrong turns and mounting frustration I finally found a sign for Haus Welbergen and soon rolled up to the entrance on a very quiet side street.  I was thinking that it had better be worth it for all my annoyance in getting there and I was delighted to discover a really superb example of a Münsterland water castle in excellent condition.  It had been given by Bertha van Heek, who died in 1961, to a foundation for German-Dutch friendship and is used for meetings and events.  The property came into the hands of the Barons of Wellbeghe in 1282 and the current house, with its moat and gardens, dates from the 16th Century.  The park around it is part of the European Heritage Garden Network, although the formal garden within the moated area was only offering some daffodils when I was there.

After enjoying views of the house, I returned to my bicycle and rode in the direction of Steinfurt, which I had visited by car with my friends during my last trip.  The road was actually closed as it had been freshly paved but since only the white lines were missing I enjoyed a fast ride to Steinfurt, one of my favourite Münsterland towns.  Of course as it was Easter Sunday not much was open and I passed through the impressive old town, stopping only on the outskirts to look at and photograph some very old buildings (including the oldest half-timbered building in Westfalia, which dates to 1380) at the Kommende, which had been set up by the Counts of Steinfurt-Bentheim to settle some of the Knights of St. John who had returned from the Crusades.  The town has a remarkable history and there is still a Count occupying the castle.  I had photographed the impressive castle and surroundings on my previous visit.

Ignoring my GPS course which would have taken me on the main road back to Laer, I instead took a somewhat meandering course that added a few kilometers.  I also thought I would try to get back on the course as I neared Laer, which was a mistake since I ended up on a very small agricultural road followed by no road at all and I had to walk the last 200 m across a field to the main Steinfurter Strasse.

It had been a satisfying ride, even if I had not seen all the castles I had hoped for.  I had put in just over 80 kms but without getting lost it would have been quite a bit less!  On the next trip I will do my planning a bit more carefully and take the bike route up to Rheine and Bad Bentheim, avoiding main roads.

I was glad that I did the ride on Easter Sunday as Monday dawned cold and wet, with light rain.  It was enough to discourage thoughts of more riding so after another fine breakfast, I took my leave of my friends and Carmen dropped me off in Münster at the station for an earlier trip back home. 

Bicycling with Bacchus: The Roman Wine Route along the Moselle

At a wine show at the InterContinental in Düsseldorf in November I met, for the second time, the vintner Josef Kranz-Junk and his wife, who live and work in the Moselle wine village of Brauneberg. Although I had never been there, I knew that in Thomas Jefferson’s wine journal he had indicated that he had bought bottles of Riesling from what was claimed, at that time, to be the noblest region in Germany, specifically the Juffer hill across the river from the village. I had managed to buy some Brauneberger Juffer at the Vintages store in Ottawa and had found it to be excellent. This was no fluke as a sampling of Herr Kranz-Junk’s dry Riesling showed and he told us about the area. When he said that it would also be good for cycling and that they also had rooms available, we decided to spend a short holiday there.

Leaving Düsseldorf on Thursday evening and passing through the volcanic region of the Eifel Mountains, a drive of just over two hours brought us to the village on the banks of the Moselle, about 10 kms west of the very famous town and tourist magnet of Bernkastel-Kues. Brauneberg appears to consist only of wine producers and hotel and B&Bs, with a few restaurants and some other necessities. Finding the Kranz-Junk house on Brunnenstrasse was easy and we received a very warm welcome and enjoyed a bottle of the Brauneberger Juffer Kabinett dry Riesling while chatting. The room was simple but very comfortable, and with its own washroom and shower. Needless to say, nights in Brauneberg are pretty quiet, although perhaps all the Riesling helped one to relax.

The view onto Brunnenstrasse, Brauneberg

The next morning was cool and grey but there was no rain, so time to lay out the bike gear and then go for breakfast. Frau Kranz-Junk outdid herself as we were faced with a rather massive breakfast: fresh buns and bread; salmon; coldcuts; three or four kinds of cheese; jams and honey; yogurt; muesli; hard-boiled eggs; fresh strawberries; and tea and coffee. There were no other guests over the Easter weekend but I suspect we would not have had to share anyway. For those looking for a quiet weekend in a friendly atmosphere, there is simply no better value than staying in the country in Germany. At around 30 Euros per person nightly (with breakfast!), it is cheaper than staying at home!

The bridge at Piesport, with Basso

The bikes assembled and it was time to roll out on the Good Friday bike ride, once a tradition that my friend Karl and I once tried to keep of longstanding back in Canada. Riding the main road west out of Brauneberg, we soon found a way to join the Moselradweg that runs directly along the river. The bike path (at least on the south bank of the river) is very well sign-posted and we quietly sped along, passing the villages of Wintrich and Geierslay. A group on racing bikes passed us and I thought it might be a good chance to test my early season condition so I accelerated and easily caught up to them. Well, it seemed easy until I noticed how short my breath was.

Along the Moselradweg in Springtime

We rolled on through Piesport, home of the Goltröpfchen Riesling Kabinett from Franz Reh I remember so well from my youth. The little hotels along the edge of the water were just waking up and umbrellas erected for the not-very-evident sun. Many of the buildings were very substantial, indicative of the prosperity of the region. It has almost no industry to speak of except wineries and tourism.

We rolled into Neumagen-Dhron, one of the most interesting places we saw on the trip. The village claims to be the oldest wine village in Germany (a distinction that several other places claim) and it certainly has a good claim to antiquity. German tribesmen wrecked what was then called Noviomagus Treverorum in 275 AD and a century later the Romans built a big fortress on the site with thirteen towers. Neumagen has been the site of some impressive archaeological finds, including the Neumagen Wine Ship, a Roman grave marker that can be seen in replica in the centre of the village. There is a walking route that takes you around where the various Roman structures, such as the town gates and walls, would have been. And of course there is a really good bakery, which proudly proclaims that after 35 years everything is still made from scratch.

The Roman Wine Ship grave marker, 2nd Century AD

 A short ride out of Neumagen the bike path climbs a bit and takes you up into the vineyards. Down below stands a small chapel dedicated to the Martyrs of the Theban Legion, a group of Roman soldiers originally based in Egypt who converted to Christianity en masse and were executed, apparently in what is now Switzerland, for failing to offer a sacrifice to the Emperor Maximian in 286 AD. The story is confusing in the extreme as some accounts say the event happened in Cologne or Trier. Saint Victor, after whom Xanten is named, was supposedly martyred in that town. Anyway, the local Neumagen aristocrats were so taken with the story (their version has the executions in Trier turning the Moselle blood-red all the way to Neumagen) that they had the small chapel near the river built in 1506-1510.

 Our route took us opposite Trittenheim, where two towers still stand on either side of the river. They once housed a guide rope for the ferry crossing the river, a common sight once on the bridge-deficient Moselle. The towers date to 1740 but there has only been a bridge over this part of the river for the last century.

The area we were traversing has been marked as the Roman Wine Route and in addition to informative signs we came upon a Roman milestone next to the bike path and then a water basin, with a nice relief of a satyr playing the pipes beside it.

The satyr is the one on the right

Passing along the quiet river, with only the occasional barge on the water and a few other cyclists along the path, we rode past the steep vineyards, bare at this time of year, until we came to Mehring, where we stopped to admire the Villa Rustica, a Roman manor house that was the focal point of what must have been one of the largest estates in the region. It had 34 rooms and there has been a partial reconstruction so that you can see where the baths were, and the storage areas and so forth. The residents enjoyed a high standard of living as gold and silver artifacts were found there during excavations in the 1980s. The manor house was built in the 2nd Century AD and expanded over the next century, until more German tribesman attacked it in 344 AD. They then lived in the ruins until the 5th Century AD when the site was abandoned and then eventually used as a quarry for local builders.

We rode past a statue of St. Francis that was erected in 1802 by local monks to calm the waters of the Moselle for passing sailors but the river looked pretty safe to us. The bike path is very good and almost all paved, with lots of places to stop and sit on a bench and look at the river, sometimes with a Roman bust nearby to keep you company. These are all reproductions as the originals have ended up in museums, such as the one in Trier, marking the Roman occupation of this part of Germany.

Our next stop was Longuich, which features an impressive castle that goes back to 1360 and is a rare example of late Gothic architecture in the countryside. It was converted in the 1980s into its present configuration as a restaurant/wine-tasting place by the family that has owned it for the last six generations.

A short distance away, however, was the Villa Rustica, our next Roman villa. This was smaller than the place in Mehring but still impressive. The bath area, with its cold/warm/hot pools, was particularly well-preserved. The villa also featured heated floors and, the first time I have noticed this, heated walls. The house, constructed also in the 2nd Century AD like the Villa Urbana, possibly belonged to a retired senior Roman administrator from nearby Trier. It too fell victim to Germanic attacks in the 4th Century.

The baths at the Villa Urbana

Having ridden around 45 kms from Brauneberg, it was time to turn around and head back after finding some lunch. We crossed the river and headed east, stopping for lunch at the cyclist-friendly Hotel Zum Fährturm in Mehring, a town that occupies both banks of the river, where I enjoyed a massive Erdinger non-alcoholic beer with my cheese omelette and excellent fries.

 
We should have crossed back over on the bridge at Mehring and continued on the bikepath we had come in on but with new sights to see we stayed on the north bank. This turned out to be not such a good idea as the bikepath was not well-marked and soon vanished, leaving us to ride the shoulder of the rather busy Bundesstrasse until we could escape back over the Trittenheim bridge to the quieter side.

We rolled back into Neumagen and had a break at the bakery there and then I went looking for the very impressive reconstructed Roman wine ship. Not a grave marker but the real thing which used the grave marker as a model. A typical Roman galley of the 4th Century AD, the original would have been a multi-purpose vessel which not only brought legionnaires into the territories of the German tribesman between the Roman capital in Trier and the Rhine but also would have been used for shipping wine, which came from various productions sites on the Moselle and was blended in Trier, as well as other goods.

The Stelle Noviomagi (“Star of Neumagen”) cost 400,000 Euros to construct and was launched in 2007. It is 18 m in length and can take 50 passengers, although they don’t need to row as there are two diesel engines on the ship. However, rowing is an option and there are trained crews for this. The ship can be chartered for cruises on the river, which must be fun although probably pretty slow as the Stelle Noviomagi does not appear to be built for speed. It really is quite beautiful to look at.

 
A final 16 km push and we were back at Familie Kranz-Junk, with 90 kms completed and a surprising 500 m vertical. The route is easy to ride and fun for cyclists of all ages and skill levels.



Saturday did not allow a repeat ride as the weather was cold and nasty, so the bikes were packed away, along with some cases of wine, and after another huge breakfast we took our leave of the Kranz-Junks and drove east towards Bernkastel-Kues, but not before crossing the river to stand next to the Juffer and to look at the Roman wine press facility, one of several in the region, where the juice was pressed out and then shipped to Trier.

Although the weather was poor, Bernkastel was already seeing a lot of tourists. It is probably what most people would think of when they think of a perfect German small town, with beautiful half-timbered buildings, lots of wine merchants and more than a few excellent bakeries.

The Café Hansen is one of these and I have stopped in there before to enjoy some wonderfully sinful cake. Nothing is better than a delicious piece of Torte with a fine coffee on a cold and grey day.

Escaping the t-shirt buying hordes in Bernkastel, our last stop of the day with the new thermal spa in Bad Bertrich. The town has been the site of hot spring bathing since Roman times when it was known as Bertriacum but the new spa is quite modern and airy.

The little town reflects a period when the last Elector of Trier, Clemens Wenzeslaus of Saxony, built a small palace as a summer residence and hunting lodge (although he apparently disliked hunting) in the late 18th Century, shortly before Revolutionary France occupied the town for two decades. Clemens Wenzeslaus lived to be 82 and is said to be the inventor of Kalte Ente, a punch consisting of wine and champagne, lemon juice and sugar with ice cubes, which  became Americanized in 1937 as Cold Duck.

The Elector's little Schloss

The Vulkaneifel Therme

 After enjoying the numerous saunas and the fine indoor and outdoor thermal pool, a two hour drive returned us to Düsseldorf and the end of a fine outing enjoying 20 centuries of German history.