Visiting Koblenz, then ending the day with pizza

17.July 26

Avoiding weekday morning commuters usually meant to planning an early train departure, especially especially for a journey requiring a train transfer.

The choice for Koblenz was a 2-hour plus destination with one transfer train. In truth, I prefer a direct train. But stepping outside my comfort zone sometimes means accepting a transfer rather than avoiding the journey altogether.

The RE48, scheduled to arrive at 5:15 a.m., was already forty-five minutes late. The station announcer had us passengers playing musical gates—first Gleis 1, then Gleis 3, and finally, to everyone’s relief, back to Gleis 1.

Meanwhile, the 0600 AM commuters were showing up…
Groan… quickly filled seats with neck bend passengers staring into their phones.
Sigh… and already a 45 minutes delay starting my trip.

In Dusseldorf, most passengers unloaded, my anxiety finally eased. Upon reaching Köln Messe/Deutz, the station reminded me of a forgotten catacomb. At least, I can say the labeling of the gates were easily identifiable.

Push, shove, excuse me, watch where you’re going (especially for whose eyes never left their mobile screen) commuters raced to beat time as they raced for their respective U- or S-bahn, in continuing their trek on a bus or train to reach their offices.

The RE5 Koblenz Hbf, also arrived late, and it too was crowded, but tolerable. Fortunately, I found a two seated row with a drop down tabletop and quietly sat alone.

Twelve stops before Koblenz.
I unpacked my new watercolors and painted for a while before turning my attention to the changing scenery outside.

At 0818AM, within country limits, the window view swept from farm pastures to the flow of the Rhine, rolling hills, mountains crowned with individual stone Schlösser, and tight sectioned villages.

Four more stops before Koblenz.
The skies were light gray and shared its share of rain, but seeing the streaks cross the glass didn’t dampen my mood nor how the trip would turnout.

I was simply relieved. At last, I had escaped.

When the train arrived at my stop, I changed my plans slightly and skipped visiting the Altstadt first. Rather, I rode the bus to the Deutsche Eck (German corner), the divider and joiner of the Mosel River and Rhine.

The Seilbahn (Koblenz Cable way) opened, I almost opted out riding the gondola lift, slightly because of the cost, but informed the cashier I was a Pensionär (retiree, a silver-haired adult) and paid the cheaper price.

The whole idea of riding the Seilbahn was to say that I did, with the hope of walking along or within the walls of Ehrenbreistein Fortress. Unfortunately, the path was closed, and visitors wishing to explore the fortress had to purchase an admission ticket.

Standing atop the plateau reset my entire nervous system. Nothing replaces the feeling of being welcomed by an open sky, drifting clouds, and warm sunlight.

On the way down, with luck no crowds yet (the tour guided tours were accumulating) I boarded Car 17, which I read from an online brochure, had a glass bottom.

In truth, the glass bottom wasn’t quite what I’d imagined. Instead of a transparent floor stretching beneath the entire cabin, it was more like an oversized square peephole. Still, I enjoyed both the view below and the landscape all around—and best of all, I had the cabin entirely to myself.

I finally made my way to the Altstadt, the area was swarmed with incoming tourists while tour guides watched and organized their guests like school children on a school trip.

Throughout my trip, I took pictures when possible while wandering without a compass. However, as the inner city became congested with more sightseers simply meant; it’s my cue to leave.

Anxiety didn’t argue with the decision to leave early. That also meant changing my return route—the departure time, the train name, and the transfer station, though thankfully not the train number.

This would be my second or third time changing trains. I calmed anxiety with a cold bottle of ice tea while studying the Abfahrt (Departure) Timetable. My memory jarred remembering that Dusseldorf as the central point passing through Wuppertal.

To my dismay, the earlier train welcomed a large number of impatient passengers. They shoved their way in hopes of finding a seat… I won’t get into details, but let’s just say this is summer and everyone was going somewhere.

I won’t deny I prefer sitting alone. The second seat remained over several stops until the entire train was jam-packed with standing passengers, until someone asked if she could have the seat next to me Yeah, I grunted, but shifted my legs so she could ‘slide’ in.

Relief welcomed me when I arrived in Barmen. I dropped my backpack at the flat, boarded the Schwebebahn and headed for Alt Markt because my day was not over yet.

The day ended at my favorite neighborhood Italian restaurant, where I rewarded myself with a 29-centimeter pepperoni pizza.
I ate every one of the eight slices.

Now I hear a familiar voice (you know who you are) calling out,
“What? Is that it? No sightseeing? No wandering through a museum? And what’s with the pizza?”

My dear reader, let’s just say this: Looking out the same apartment window and walking the same familiar streets for five straight days of tutoring begins to feel like Groundhog Day for those who’ve seen the film.

Yes, this is Germany. Europe. Castles, landscapes, cafés, and picturesque villages. But for me, travel has never been about checking famous landmarks off a list. It’s about changing the view, breathing different air, and letting the mind reset for a while.

I prefer the unique.
As for the pizza... consider it my toast—though others might raise a beer mug—to a day well spent.