So, on the evening of September 7, we entered the last of 4 rivers on this cruise. The Mosel (that's the German name -- Moselle in French) rises in the hilly country of the Vosges in eastern France and flows through France, then along the border of Germany and Luxembourg, and finally through Germany and into the Rhine at Koblenz. The Mosel valley is a notable wine producing area, especially for Rieslings, and the typical landscape along the river is a steep hillside seamed with terraces of grape vines pitched at what appear to be more suitable angles for mountain goats than for human beings. But the vineyards were created by humans, and have been harvested by humans for more than 2 millennia.
According to our tour guide, no ropes or harnesses of any kind are used. The workers walk uphill along a row of vines, with shoes turned outwards at 45-degree angles in either direction to keep themselves from falling.
We cruised at a leisurely pace up the sweeping curves and bends of the river, passing through a number of locks and arriving during the dark hours at the small town of Bernkastel. This morning, despite the frore, foggy weather -- more Scottish than German -- we had the usual walking tour of this small town. The first big feature was the church tower -- quite plainly a former tower of the city walls. The guide assured us that even at the level of the clock, the solid stone walls were still 1.6 metres (over 5 feet) thick. Let that number sink in for a moment.
Behind the riverfront church, this small town had the usual budget of cute quaintness and leaning walls, doors, windows, etc.
According to our tour guide, no ropes or harnesses of any kind are used. The workers walk uphill along a row of vines, with shoes turned outwards at 45-degree angles in either direction to keep themselves from falling.
We cruised at a leisurely pace up the sweeping curves and bends of the river, passing through a number of locks and arriving during the dark hours at the small town of Bernkastel. This morning, despite the frore, foggy weather -- more Scottish than German -- we had the usual walking tour of this small town. The first big feature was the church tower -- quite plainly a former tower of the city walls. The guide assured us that even at the level of the clock, the solid stone walls were still 1.6 metres (over 5 feet) thick. Let that number sink in for a moment.
Behind the riverfront church, this small town had the usual budget of cute quaintness and leaning walls, doors, windows, etc.
By 1000, the sun was out, so our afternoon coach drive through the region was a great success. We drove up to the famous overlook above the horseshoe-shaped bend where the Mosel curves back on itself through considerably more than 180 degrees of rotation.
After we got down to river level again, we went around a few bends to the east and found ourselves face to face with this immense new highway viaduct, now nearing completion. It's over 1700 metres long (that's over a mile) and 158 metres high in the centre.
We then were taken to the Kloster Machern, a former Cistercian nunnery, for a beer tasting in the building's large and noisy beer hall.
Three glasses of beer later, we reboarded the bus to head back to Bernkastel for a wine tasting! At this point, I and a number of others pulled the plug. Beer and wine within an hour of each other -- just the thought made my stomach do flip-flops. "The wise man does not mix the grain and the grape," as the old adage says, and I certainly try not to do so.
That night we had our big Gala Dinner and thank-yous to the crew, even though the next night was the last night of the voyage -- on that final night, a lot of people would be preoccupied with packing and such. During the night we sailed on up the river, and morning found us in my fourth brand-new country of this trip: the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg.
However, our tour du jour took us from Grevenmacher, Luxembourg, back over the border to the city of Trier (pronounced "Treer") in Germany -- for an experience unlike any other we'd had during the trip. Some parts of Trier display the kind of 15th-18th century European architecture we'd expect, but this place is far older. Founded by the Romans as Augusta Treverorum in 16 B.C., Trier came to its full Roman glory in the days of the Emperor Constantine, three centuries later. On our tour of Roman Trier, we saw numerous remains of Constantine's building works. We started at the Imperial Baths, built by Constantine's order -- the largest Roman bath house anywhere outside of the city of Rome itself. The multi-coloured scheme of stone and brickwork would reappear several times during the tour.
The remains you see here covered only the hot baths of a far larger complex with tepid and cold bath rooms, and a sizable courtyard enclosed by shops which was used for exercise and sports activities. The similarity of range of facilities to a modern spa and health club called to mind the ancient Roman motto, mens sana in corpore sano ("a healthy mind in a healthy body").
Our guide next took us down into the labyrinth of tunnels under the baths which served to drain everything -- and I do mean everything -- away from the bath house and into the Moselle River. (Don't think about this concept too closely.)
Leaving the baths, we walked through a park with some lovely flower gardens...
...which were created for the rococo palace of the Archbishop of Trier. But one quick look tells you that this is a palace with a difference. The beloved symmetry of the Baroque era is slightly askew.
That massive brick structure looming behind the palace was a key part of the palace of Constantine, his combination court hall/throne room/hall of justice, known to the Romans as a basilica (the meaning is quite different from the use of that term by the Roman Catholic Church). Constantine's basilica is partly original, partly reconstructed, and continues in use today as a Protestant church. The brickwork is there again, and on a couple of the window frames there are sizable chunks remaining of the plaster which originally covered all the bricks, disguising the emperor's use of such a humble building material.
A few more minutes brought us to the cathedral of Trier, a centuries-old amalgam of Romanesque, Gothic, and Baroque elements all rolled into one. When we went around the north side of the cathedral, towards the apse, the Roman brickwork appeared again.
This wall, too, was part of Constantine's palace complex. After 18 years of living intermittently in Trier, he departed for his glorious new capital of Constantinopolis (now Istanbul), and in going he deeded his palace in Trier to the local Christian community. The site has served as a church ever since.
Finally, we stepped into Trier's Marktplatz, and looked down the main street to the north. There we saw the most imposing and famous of Trier's Roman remains: the Porta Nigra ("Black Gate"). Of course, the Romans called it by no such name because it wasn't black in the 2nd century but built of slightly yellowish sandstone which undoubtedly glowed in the sunshine on mornings like this one. This gate, too, was preserved through the centuries by being converted into a church before being "converted" back by Napoleon, who had a liking for romantic Roman ruins -- and no great liking at all for Roman Catholicism.
Trier was our last touring stop on the Mosel. As we sat down to dinner that evening, the ship moved away from the dock and continued its way upstream. This was a much more placid country than the area farther downstream -- gentler hills, forests and grasslands alternating, and stretching right down to the edge of the river, orderly farms and pretty vistas everywhere -- I'm sorry I didn't think of taking my camera to the restaurant with me.
Our last meal on the ship was as good as any of its predecessors, and the service staff went out of their way to give us an excellent final experience.
Two locks and three hours later, we arrived at our final port, still in Luxembourg -- Remich. The next morning, we said goodbye to our little floating palace and its friendly and helpful crew, and hopped on a bus to Luxembourg city where we boarded a TGV or Train à grande vitesse ("high-speed train") to Paris, the official endpoint of our 19-night Avalon tour.
We then were taken to the Kloster Machern, a former Cistercian nunnery, for a beer tasting in the building's large and noisy beer hall.
Three glasses of beer later, we reboarded the bus to head back to Bernkastel for a wine tasting! At this point, I and a number of others pulled the plug. Beer and wine within an hour of each other -- just the thought made my stomach do flip-flops. "The wise man does not mix the grain and the grape," as the old adage says, and I certainly try not to do so.
That night we had our big Gala Dinner and thank-yous to the crew, even though the next night was the last night of the voyage -- on that final night, a lot of people would be preoccupied with packing and such. During the night we sailed on up the river, and morning found us in my fourth brand-new country of this trip: the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg.
However, our tour du jour took us from Grevenmacher, Luxembourg, back over the border to the city of Trier (pronounced "Treer") in Germany -- for an experience unlike any other we'd had during the trip. Some parts of Trier display the kind of 15th-18th century European architecture we'd expect, but this place is far older. Founded by the Romans as Augusta Treverorum in 16 B.C., Trier came to its full Roman glory in the days of the Emperor Constantine, three centuries later. On our tour of Roman Trier, we saw numerous remains of Constantine's building works. We started at the Imperial Baths, built by Constantine's order -- the largest Roman bath house anywhere outside of the city of Rome itself. The multi-coloured scheme of stone and brickwork would reappear several times during the tour.
The remains you see here covered only the hot baths of a far larger complex with tepid and cold bath rooms, and a sizable courtyard enclosed by shops which was used for exercise and sports activities. The similarity of range of facilities to a modern spa and health club called to mind the ancient Roman motto, mens sana in corpore sano ("a healthy mind in a healthy body").
Our guide next took us down into the labyrinth of tunnels under the baths which served to drain everything -- and I do mean everything -- away from the bath house and into the Moselle River. (Don't think about this concept too closely.)
Leaving the baths, we walked through a park with some lovely flower gardens...
...which were created for the rococo palace of the Archbishop of Trier. But one quick look tells you that this is a palace with a difference. The beloved symmetry of the Baroque era is slightly askew.
That massive brick structure looming behind the palace was a key part of the palace of Constantine, his combination court hall/throne room/hall of justice, known to the Romans as a basilica (the meaning is quite different from the use of that term by the Roman Catholic Church). Constantine's basilica is partly original, partly reconstructed, and continues in use today as a Protestant church. The brickwork is there again, and on a couple of the window frames there are sizable chunks remaining of the plaster which originally covered all the bricks, disguising the emperor's use of such a humble building material.
A few more minutes brought us to the cathedral of Trier, a centuries-old amalgam of Romanesque, Gothic, and Baroque elements all rolled into one. When we went around the north side of the cathedral, towards the apse, the Roman brickwork appeared again.
This wall, too, was part of Constantine's palace complex. After 18 years of living intermittently in Trier, he departed for his glorious new capital of Constantinopolis (now Istanbul), and in going he deeded his palace in Trier to the local Christian community. The site has served as a church ever since.
Finally, we stepped into Trier's Marktplatz, and looked down the main street to the north. There we saw the most imposing and famous of Trier's Roman remains: the Porta Nigra ("Black Gate"). Of course, the Romans called it by no such name because it wasn't black in the 2nd century but built of slightly yellowish sandstone which undoubtedly glowed in the sunshine on mornings like this one. This gate, too, was preserved through the centuries by being converted into a church before being "converted" back by Napoleon, who had a liking for romantic Roman ruins -- and no great liking at all for Roman Catholicism.
Trier was our last touring stop on the Mosel. As we sat down to dinner that evening, the ship moved away from the dock and continued its way upstream. This was a much more placid country than the area farther downstream -- gentler hills, forests and grasslands alternating, and stretching right down to the edge of the river, orderly farms and pretty vistas everywhere -- I'm sorry I didn't think of taking my camera to the restaurant with me.
Our last meal on the ship was as good as any of its predecessors, and the service staff went out of their way to give us an excellent final experience.
Two locks and three hours later, we arrived at our final port, still in Luxembourg -- Remich. The next morning, we said goodbye to our little floating palace and its friendly and helpful crew, and hopped on a bus to Luxembourg city where we boarded a TGV or Train à grande vitesse ("high-speed train") to Paris, the official endpoint of our 19-night Avalon tour.
Our cruise continued and then ended in the placid, rolling, green countryside of the Mosel River, a renowned wine-growing region with a strong dose of Roman history lying in wait for us.
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