Travelling at around one hundred and thirty kilometres per hour, closing on slow moving vehicles at a terrifying rate while being closed from behind at even more terrifying rates requires a steely nerve and not to put too fine a point on it, a certain level alertness if one is to come out of it at the end of the day with one’s hire-car deposit in one’s own pocket.
If there were a set of instructions setting out the ideal preparation for such a road trip, it probably wouldn’t include getting nowhere near enough sleep the night before, then working all morning in increasing chill and showery gloom. It certainly wouldn’t include sitting over the last long lunch of summer, no matter how snug and warm the restaurant may appear to be. But as we lingered over dessert looking out as the storm lashed the now well-protected boat we couldn't help but think that what we were doing was infinitely more pleasant than pounding through the gloom on the road or on the water either for that matter.
Somehow, despite the odds of us moving from our positions being clearly against us, eventually we came to be walking this evening in Koblenz, in an entirely different country, in that familiar post travel and post pack-up fog, a little weary and definitely ready to flop on the nearest bed. Never the less, unwilling to waste a minute of daylight, we trudged on thankful that none of the zimmer frames that lined the footpath beside the cruise ships were ours, planning to embark on a proper exploration tomorrow.
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