Wine on the Rhine, un trop court sejour a France, and paradise for thekids at Europe's biggest amusement park

Having officially entered the romantic Rhine at Koblenz, we continued upstream through some beautiful places (here welcomed by a profusion of roses after the village of Hattenheim).

The vibrant colours found in nature were replicated by graphic artists at a graffiti festival we cycled by in Mainz, 

where a dj pounded out beats as heavily tattooed guys sprayed elaborate illustrations all over the highway (and bike) overpass, in the tunnel under the bridge,

and used a crane to decorate adjacent buildings.

We traded that gritty urban scene for green vineyards a few hours later,

and after our exertions we couldn't help but stop at a wine stall for a libation. 

For the first time that day we looked at our map for a campsite, only to discover there wasn't one for another 30 km. It was so hot, and languor set in as we sat at our table in the tiny courtyard, so when the stall owner said he had a friend with a b&b we immediately said we'd take it. The apartment turned out to be a beautiful place, called Eicher B&B after his winery.

The next morning, after serving us a scrumptious breakfast (and encouraging us to pack ourselves a picnic lunch from the bounty) 

he sent us off with a bottle of wine from the vineyard (and sparkling grape juice for the kids).

The contrasts in our days continued, as we left the quiet lassitude of the town in the morning, 

hit the car wrecking yards as we entered Mannheim,

and finished the day with dinner at a quiet campsite in Philippsburg while the sun set over a nuclear power plant.

The close up views of Germany's heavy industry continued the next day, but always bordered by natural areas, with storks 

and other avian wildlife making their homes just metres away from quarries or heavy processing facilities. To pass this one, directly on the bike path, we had to cross a small bridge.

It was designed with only a thin ramp for bike wheels, so we had to slide our bikes up and down two flights of stairs on each side, a lengthy process given that we had to remove most of the gear and  have two of us per descent so that the bikes didn't careen down the stairs without us.

Once over the bridge the path led almost immediately back into the forest, the industry hidden quickly by the greenery.

We had crossing troubles of another sort the next day. The Rhine had flooded its banks due to the heavy rains so crossing one road proved impossible.

It was a pain to have to divert but we appreciated the transformation of road 

into wetland.

At the end of the day we took a ferry to France, 

glad that we could finally speak the native language, which helped when we arrived and found the campground was closed and locked up for the night. We asked the cook at the chip stand nearby for help, so he phoned the owners and got permission to let us in with his key. Another spectacular sunset, enjoyed by us alone as there was not another tent to be found at the site.

Both France and Germany offered cycle paths down the Rhine (on opposite sides of the river), so we decided to cycle in France for a change. The first ten km of the path was incredible, but after that we had to share the road with cars, so were relieved when we finally hit the bikes only path that led past the European Parliament - and thus completed the troika of the foundational EU cities on our path - Brussels, Maastricht and Strasbourg.

We had rented an apartment for two nights to give us a chance to see the city as well as to take a break from cycling. The weather was dreary but we were still afforded a great view from atop the Notre Dame cathedral.

The greenery of the trees more than made up for the grey skies.

We did some sightseeing in the rain, 

but then decided to head indoors for a swim in the mineral waters of city's antique bath. It had a slightly neglected but still very impressive art nouveau interior, 

and individual change rooms 

that opened directly onto the deep pool. 

While we were in Strasbourg we also bumped into Karen and Mike, the cyclists we had met a few days before in Cologne (and before that in Holland). 

We were delighted to catch up with them, and they introduced us to their host Benjamin, who promptly invited us for dinner at his place that night. He didn't need to ask twice, and we all had a fantastic evening together, the kids thrilled to chat with some people other than us, and to play the piano and guitar that they've been missing from home. 

The adults dined on the amazing selection of cheeses that Benjamin and Faustine had prepared for us, pairing them with liberal amounts of wine along with beer chosen by Mike and Karen, who being from Portland knew all about microbreweries. We said our good-byes

and barely caught the midnight tram home to our apartment. The kids had no trouble staying up during the walk,

but we were all feeling the effects when we had to hit the road first thing the next morning.

Luckily we were able to get the kids moving as we had promised them if they made it to Rust, about 40 km away, we would be able to go to an amusement park. We started slowly, with a break at the most incredible and completely free playground in Kehl Germany. It alone would be worth a trip for anyone with kids, with an amazing tower (Jacob is peering down from the top)

from which we could look down on the blue swimming pool, the skate park,

an adventure playground

and pond, with the obligatory cafe situated so that parents can drink beer while their kids go crazy. After that we picked up the pace and motored straight through (except for a short stop to pet a friendly horse) 

until we could see the sky high roller coasters of the fabled Europa Park - such a different approach than the traffic clogged multiple lane highway to Canada's Wonderland.

Though set amidst the corn fields it was bustling,

with a massive layout, enhanced by trees and lush gardens throughout.

It was a short walk from the roller coasters to the action-packed campground on site, 

which was country & western themed. There was a horse show each evening (consisting of dubiously costumed cowboys & Indians), the decorative signs were all in English,

and the restaurant offered tex-mex fare and an authentic mariachi band to serenade diners. 

It was bizarre to us to see the profusion of people sporting American flag bandannas and cowboy hats while listening to German bands covering Elvis Presley (no one was hitting the dance floor though).

But all that was nothing compared to the excitement inside the park gates. We started the day with a two minute shuttle ride,

accompanied by movie soundtrack music piped into the individual cars - the better to prepare for the excitement. For the next 12 hours we went on heart palpitating roller coasters, bumper cars 

and theme rides in the dark. 

We posed with "Euromaus" - surely it is completely coincidental that the park has the same mammalian mascot as Disney.

Our guide and excellent company for the day was Sarah and her son Joel. 

We had met them through the couchsurfing website and they had emailed us to say they would be glad to host us for a couple of nights. Sarah's place was too far out off of our route so we decided to camp at the park instead, but Sarah offered to meet us there all the same. We were so glad for her help navigating the huge park, and her knowledge gained from multiple visits as a season pass holder made sure we hit all the rides and waited the absolute minimum time in lines. 

It was a fun time and the kids were sad to leave the next morning - we had a meltdown and a very minor accident which didn't help matters (I had stopped abruptly to take a picture, at Jacob's request, of the park as we departed, causing Jacob, who was continuing to gaze longingly at the park, to crash into me on the deserted road). But we soon recovered and moved on - knowing there would be more adventures on the paths to come.

Riverside camping on the romantic (and industrial) Rhine, and asobering reminder of the high cost of rushing

Our route out of the Netherlands began with a tiny path through the fields,

a pastoral idyll that became progressively more urban as we approached Vaals, the Netherlands town that morphs into Aachen after the German border bisects the town. We knew we had left perfectly planned Holland when we were forced to mix with a large volume of car traffic and bike alongside parked cars whose doors could open at any time - it was like biking in Toronto again. Aachen was beautiful, but rougher around the edges and definitely a different feel than the lovely towns in Netherlands - we saw our first homeless person since Turkey, which made us realize that Holland must have great social programs (or else a hidden underbelly that we didn't see). Of course a much smaller population than massive Germany could also contribute to the different conditions.

Fittingly for our first meal in Germany we ate bratwurst on a terrace across from the Aachen cathedral,

except for Kyra, who had a veggie burger. Our regular up close and personal encounters with animals, starting with Turkey and continuing from there, have convinced her that she doesn't want to eat them anymore.

The cathedral was impressive

as was the massive old city hall, in German called the Rathaus (insert cynical joke about politicians here).

Our campground that night was on a man-made lake outside the town of Duren. There were waterslides and trampolines, torture for Tom who was keen to jump in but the very chilly weather and the late hour of our arrival meant we just wanted to stay warm and go to sleep right after a sunset dinner.

It was beautiful and peaceful at the site where we pitched our tent, but more expensive than the fully equipped cabins we'd had in Holland. That, our time mingling in Aachen traffic, and the difficulty in finding a route - ultimately travelling along the highway for long stretches (though still nicely protected by our slightly elevated bike path) -

made us wonder if our German cycling tour was going to less positive than our terrific Dutch one. The experiences of the next day (which happened to be Paul's birthday - his present at breakfast was some drawings from the kids and a bottle of pomegranate juice wrapped in our camping bandanna/hot pad) made our worries disappear. 

First, while stopping at a fork in the path to consider our route (we had been checking our maps every few km which slowed us down significantly) a racing cyclist stopped to chat with us. We are used to racing cyclists ringing their bells and then whizzing past us in their professional looking outfits and expensive bikes, but this gentleman introduced himself and, after asking us about our travels, offered to guide us towards Cologne, our next destination. We cautioned that we would be too slow for him but he was delighted to meet a cycling family and insisted it would be his pleasure. George acted as our personal tour guide for almost the entire 40 km to our campsite, taking us to a hidden rest stop for our picnic lunch, and later on a tiny detour to the amazing gelato parlour in his town.

With his wide smile, infectious enthusiasm and stories about the landscape and towns we passed, 

he made the journey both faster and more interesting, and we were sorry to say good-bye. After taking a picture -

which we joked could prove to his wife where he'd been for the past three hours - we bid him adieu, so glad to have had this incredible introduction to Germany.

Because of the speed of our George-guided route we reached our campsite outside Cologne in record time, so we were able to set up our tent and then cycle the amazing riverside path into,

and around the city centre. We loved the mix of striking modern architecture 

with the historic buildings, like the imposing and futuristic looking "Dom" cathedral (whose spires could adorn a spaceport), too massive to fit into a single photo frame.

We celebrated Paul's birthday enjoying beer, bratwurst and fries while perched on a ledge looking out over the Rhine. 

On our cycle back through town we happened across an outdoor film screening, where movie goers sat facing the water on amphitheatre-like steps with wine and beer, wrapped in cozy blankets that were included with the price of admission. 

We were sorely tempted, for the ambience as much as the movie, but knowing it wouldn't start until it was finally dark at 10:30 or 11 meant our parental responsibility (Paul's) kicked in and we headed for home - a campsite directly across the street from a frosted pink house with unique balcony furniture.

Over breakfast the next morning we struck up a conversation with Karen and Mike, two Americans from Portland who were on a 9 week cycling vacation. We had first seen them on a ferry on the Maas river in Holland, so compared notes on our routes and exchanged travel advice. We would ultimately end up crossing paths with them in four different countries before our paths finally diverged.

Once we left Cologne our navigation became much easier since the Rhine was either next to or parallel to us the entire time.

Our campsites were often on the water, and the paths were paved and smooth.

The flowers, tree covered hillsides 

and picturesque villages

were a foretaste of the section further south whose monicker is "the Romantic Rhine",

but there were also decidedly unromantic industrial sections, 

which good zoning constrained into discrete plots of land that bordered green pastures.

We reached the city of Koblenz, situated at the confluence of the Rhine and the Moselle rivers, ahead of schedule so decided to set up our tents for two nights in a campsite across from Deutsches Eck ("German corner"), dominated by a massive statute of Kaiser Wilhelm I (the original had been destroyed in WWII, but the tribute was resurrected in 1993). Our first evening, Kyra persuaded us to take a gondola ride across the river 

up to a Prussian 19th century fort that presided over Koblenz so we could fully enjoy the sunshine and the view of the city from above.

We wandered around the ramparts, 

and heard faint sounds of music from the courtyards below, so followed the music through the tunnels until we came upon a huge open atrium filled with partiers, bars and cafes, and a stage with a live band. 

It was a entertaining scene in a great setting, and I loved that most of the stylishly dressed crowd, clearly local, was in their 40s or older. The fact that most touring and camping cyclists we meet are older than us, and the vibrant social scene I see for grown-ups (posters advertise giant dance parties where the minimum age for entry is 25), makes me want to retire to Europe, where age doesn't seem to be a limitation to fun!

After dancing to 50 Ways to Leave your Lover (the German band did a bunch of surprisingly good Paul Simon covers) we descended over the trees in the gondola 

and had a picnic at a table next to the river, cycling home at twilight.

The glorious time we'd had made us decide to spend another night in Koblenz. For our extra day, we decided to take a side trip down the Moselle river, lined with vineyards that clung to the steep hillsides and whose products could be enjoyed at riverside cafes in small villages along the route.

Our morning started out well and we rode with the sun at our backs.

We cycled 30 km up the river, glimpsing castles such as the one perched above Alken,

stopping for a glass of riesling and frites at a cafe where we chatted with some fellow cyclists. We ventured (somewhat accidentally) up into the hills,

a peaceful but arduous detour, necessitating a swim to cool off in the Moselle down below.

Emerging from the water we noticed storm clouds massing, and decided to head back to Koblenz asap. We were tired and, in our haste, we decided to rush across the busy road in Alken instead of waiting for a longer break in traffic so we could cross calmly. Reaching the other side, Kyra turned to me with a loud cry. I look at her and was appalled to see her front tooth (an adult one) had chipped diagonally in half when her bike had hit the curb and bounced back, hitting her mouth. We were in shock and spent five minutes searching for the missing piece, impossible to find among the many tiny pebbles on the sidewalk and road, not able to think about what to do next.  Two passing cyclists, neither of whom spoke English, tried in vain to help. As a measure of common sense returned to us we realized we weren't going to find the tooth, so started to walk to the train station as the heavens opened and the rain began to pour down on us in earnest (the kids learned the meaning of pathetic fallacy that night). Our luck returned to us though as we almost immediately came upon the tourist office that we hadn't seen before.  It was open for another 10 minutes before it closed for the week-end. The two amazing women there, Julia and Vanessa, quickly arranged an emergency dental appointment back in Koblenz, called for a taxi to take Kyra, Thomas and I to the clinic (Paul and Jacob had to walk several kms to the train station with all four bikes).  They even lent us their phone to call the insurance company back home. We were all distressed, though when Tom overheard us talking about the dental appointment he ran out to Jacob, calling with delight "Kyra's going to get a free toothbrush!".

In the grand scheme of things a chipped front tooth is a very minor thing (easy for me to say since it wasn't mine), but the fact that we had made an error that resulted in a permanent loss for our daughter reminded us how life can change in an instant, and that it matters not how many kms we cover in a day, nor how many sights we see. All that is important is that we love and cherish each other, a perspective that we need to retain as life quickly returns to normal - with Kyra's repaired tooth looking good as new.