Church bells wait for no man in Luxembourg. They start early, as the morning mist still floats above the hay bales and ring incessantly. Not that we wanted a lie-in; we’d planned a dawn start.
The patch-work hills and hay bales of Luxembourg in the gold-tinged light of sunrise slowly gave way to higher, denser rises of forested German valleys, where the pine trees were packed so tightly you couldn’t see far into their murky depths. It made you wonder what secrets lay hidden within these fairytale forests. It’s no surprise that they’ve inspired tales of gingerbread cottages and trolls lurking under bridges.
In midday heat, we were dismayed to slink along in our first traffic jam, which took over an hour of stern clutch control to navigate through. Motorcyclists threaded their way past on either side, keeping you on your toes at all times. We can only assume not all the roads we encounter over the next several weeks will be quite so busy.
Before long, the traffic thinned and we ended up in a very ‘German’ kind of Germany, where the tall, squat, log-beamed cottages clustered around pointy, narrow church spires. We discovered our campsite shortly thereafter, requiring a pinch of patience while Reception took a mid-afternoon break for an hour. Once set up, though, it was straight into the nearby city of Nuremberg.
Nuremberg is famously known for another kind of rally and it was pulverised by Allied bombing during the Second World War. Here it was that Hitler whipped up the crowds into a frenzy and from where he hypnotised a nation. The spaces in which he did this still exist but that dark time is a smidgeon of the city’s long history.
The visitor today can see here the best aspects of German life: the lofty, soaring churches, salty pretzels, sauerkraut (pickled cabbage) and sausages, Nuremberg specialities, all washed down with heavy beer. Climbing up to the castle walls, you look across the red-tiled rooves at a city that’s been through the worst but has somehow been able to cope with that and move on. It’s a remarkable thing to comprehend from up here and a huge testament to the German nation.
In the central square is an imposing, gothic-style fountain, lodged in which is a single gold ring. It takes a bit of finding but it’s said that if you turn it in a full circle with your fingers squeezed through the railings, you can make a wish.
One of my wishes had already come true, though. Walking up to a miserable-looking German man at McDonald’s and asking for “Zwei ‘World Cup’ Mcflurrys, bitte” with England sailing along into the Russia 2018 Semi-Finals while Germany crashed out in the group stages was one of the best things I did all week!
As I’m in Germany, maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned the World Cup?
Team Yes We Khan 