Northward on the river
That being said, the way Germans treat women is really something. Nils made the observation on the first night we were there, at the Hofbrauhaus, where girls in dirndls (those puffy dress-type things you imagine when you think of boys in lederhosen) meander up and down the aisles between the tables, as men with minds drenched in beer buy cigarettes or pretzels from them. It's not exploitation, though. It's a form of great reverence for The Female, the wonderful and ethereal form of it, flowing and life-giving. Really cool, and, with enough experience as a dude, just very sweet and innocent.
So anyway, Loreley rock, right near the top of St. Goarsheim, on the East bank of the river. Used to sing the song to it (in iambic tetrameter!) in German class, so that was cool to be around it. Picked up a brochure, but didn't go to the rock, because it's hard to get there when most of the transport is in hibernation mode.
So we stayed on the Western side, at St. Goar, where the biggest and greatest castle on the Rhein sits. It's in ruins now, but for a while, was indestructible. When most of the castles faced their destruction at the end of the 17th century, Rheinfels stood intact until Napoleon stormed inside of it and blew much of it up.


But before we could climb, we dropped our bags off at the tourism office. And then climb we did, attempting first to take the path that clearly led to the castle.






The castle could keep the French out for a while, but couldn't do a number on this Swede.





Goodbyyyeee, St. Goar!
Boppard, a town built around its tourism (reminds in certain parts of Rome, Massachusetts or Jersey) awaited.
We quickly made our way to the river in Boppard, where it snaps to the right beyond this church. Hello!b
On occasion, the Rhein floods so high that it could drown Shaq if he were in town.
Aber Mutti, ich will, mehr zu wissen!
Nein, wir werden morgen wiederkommen!
(Back tomorrow, crazy babies)
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