Thursday, October 28: We chose the optional tour to Marksburg Castle, rated “difficult”, but too fascinating to resist. We were driven up & up to where Marksburg rises above the bank of the Rhine, crowning a cone-shaped hill high above town. We had only a peek-a-view of the river and buildings below, so not much of a photo op. Castles were, first & foremost, fortresses intended for defense, & access was either by two steep, narrow flights of stairs thought the woods, or a winding hairpin road.. We chose the road rather than stairs. (No one seems willing to let me try anything the least bit tricky these days….?)
At the top of the road was a drawbridge leading to the Drawbridge Gate, and an arched stone entrance where we waited for previous groups to get on ahead of us into the castle. We then entered & killed some more time in the stone gift shop where I snapped a couple of photos of centuries-old manuscripts before I overheard the proprietor tell someone else that no photography was allowed! Larry, meantime, had found the sought-after excellent view for photos over a parapet. When the time came for our group to enter, our guide, Heinrich, opened the giant doors in front of us with a huge key & we entered through the Fox Gate which he then closed behind us. As he prepared to begin his presentation, a quick glance convinced me that Larry was not in the group. “We’re missing someone!” I called out. Heinrich reopened the gate and there stood Larry! He entered to much laughter. Since he is constantly nudging, guiding, and urging me on (as if I am somehow the one who is likely to miss a cue and hold up the parade), I found the whole episode highly satisfying in addition to amusing. He’s still getting reminded from time to time…not by ME, of course!
Marksburg Castle dates from the twelfth century. The first stonework dates, astoundingly, from 1135, with some additions made as late as the 17th century. Like all the castles along the Rhine, it served both as protection and a status symbol. Horses could be ridden right inside, and the steps carved into the stone are very rough to provide better footing for them. Marksburg is the only castle on the Middle Rhine to escape destruction or ruin. Although it took fire from American forces against Nazis hiding inside in 1945, it suffered only minor damage. I could hardly believe the sophistication of Marksburg, as well as how thorough the tour was. We saw the kitchen, the blacksmith shop, a furnished bedroom, the dungeon & instruments of torture, & a display of knights in armor through the centuries. The dining room with its long table sits right in front of a door to (ready for this?) a privy!! Who knew anyone had indoor “plumbing” in the 12th century! The door to the privy locked from the outside for fear an enemy would climb up the waste pipe and gain access that way….yuck.
Since history, especially medieval history, is my “thing” I could go on for pages describing the wonders we saw. Instead I’ll let photos do the talking; I only took a hundred or so!

We were up bright & early, had breakfast & returned to the room to “saddle up” for a busy day. We had signed up for both an “included” shore excursion in the morning and an optional (extra cost) one in the afternoon. Both were about 3 1/2 hours long – mostly walking. Yes, I know, hypocrisy at its finest; a wheelchair in airports and tours with walking on cruises. We are actually careful when choosing which we sign on for & pass on any marked “difficult”, those described as ‘rigorous’, or that have the word “hiking” or “trekking” in the title. We did, however, stick with our original AM group even though, in the Port Talk, the Program Director termed it “Fast & Furious” & offered less strenuous, slower, alternatives with another guide.

Our guide was Dirk, a man with encyclopedic knowledge of his subject and a great sense of humor. He first taught us the etiquette of pedestrian street crossing in Cologne. (Stay in the crosswalks, NEVER jaywalk, there’s strength in numbers, & bicyclers will kill you, or worse yet, stop & yell at you.) He knew what was original, what was not, the age of everything & all the peccadilloes of every shop. (“The chocolate here is better than at the chocolate museum.”, “Here they don’t charge for samples.”, “You must promise me you will NOT buy ice cream from this shop….PROMISE ME! Promise?!?”) He also had a strongly held world view which came out during his discussion of the bombing of Cologne – and other cities, in Germany & elsewhere – by “the Germans” during WWII. It only occurred to me later to wonder what he considered himself, if not “German” (Prussian, perhaps?). I’ll explain.

We visited the Cologne Cathedral as the high point of our visit & he explained that it had never been destroyed….not that it had never been bombed (it was, repeatedly) just that bombs had not been able to level it. At the very front of the cathedral, in the oldest part, is a 12th century stained glass window &, standing across from it a golden chest containing the crowns (& skulls) of the three Magi. He told an entertaining story of how the purported skulls came to be in Cologne….& led to the construction of the cathedral thanks to the excellent salesmanship of a crafty Archbishop…. & another of how the stained glass, both the oldest & others present at the time, were removed to safety in 1936; YEARS before the Nazis came to power. Why, Dirk mused, did this foresight not inspire the Germans to revise their attitude, to turn away from attempting to annihilate an entire culture based on their religion – & millions more besides? Why not turn their strength to something positive instead of to death, war & destruction? Good questions &, as a world view, still pertinent today.

The first thing that caught our eye was apiece of statuary sitting in a small park. Dirk seemed reticent about explaining it, but it was too late to avoid the issue; some of us were already surrounding it & the rest were headed that way. The subject was clearly the Holocaust since it represented a woman, a nun at three stages if her life, at one end, & a pile of shoes at the other – the significance unmistakable. Along one side was a pathway bearing barefoot footprints, identified by numbers; again the reference was clear. Dirk was clearly touched; it reduced me to wet-eyed heartache.

We worked our way around his lovely town discovering remnants of the old city wall built in Roman times & still existing in many places today. We stopped at a map of the city, inlaid in the cobblestones, showing the location of the Roman wall and structures still present today. Then we
spent some time in the beautiful cathedral itself, studied the exterior, both the architecture & discussing factors contributing to the deterioration of the stone. (It deteriorates from the inside out, not visa versa. There goes the acid rain theory; the marks made by stone masons from the 12th & 14th centuries are still visible!) We visited a German restroom that took credit cards. A free bathroom in Germany is a rarity! (In Koblenz we were assured that there are only two!). We then continued on, walking sometimes on the narrow sidewalks, sometimes in the cobblestone streets themselves, which is where I ran into trouble. I’m generally surefooted, but as we trotted along, listening intently (wearing earpieces & carrying a small “quiet box” that allows everyone to hear, even at quite a long distance) I suddenly felt a quick pain in one ankle…like a sprain, only quite temporary…& then in the other! Neither was actually an injury in & of itself, but the first caused me to stumble & the second precluded any possibility of recovery; I sprawled headlong, face first, onto the cobblestone surface. Larry was horrified, Dirk was horrified, I was embarrassed but delighted that I hadn’t left so much as a scuff on the knees of my jeans. The skin on own knees was another matter; they were scraped & bruised & a bloody mess. It wasn’t a terrible fall, my ankles were fine &, as a skier, though we didn’t fall often, I’ve had far worse tumbles. However, no matter how adamantly you deny the passage of time, what wouldn’t have been anything at fifty is a much bigger deal at…harrumph! By evening I was quite sore, realized I’d had a twisting fall & wrenched something in my knee, hip or in between ankle & hip somewhere & a charming fat purple lip was evidence that I’d put a tooth through my lip upon impact. Fortunately, the more I keep moving the better I feel & I never travel without a pharmacy that includes plenty of NSAIDs, ASA & Tylenol. Unfortunately, there is no bathtub or jacuzzi aboard, though we have an excellent shower & very hot water. Our fellow passengers have been very solicitous, especially those who witnessed my clumsiness, offering ibuprofen, aspirin, etc. It is certainly a shortcut to becoming well known aboard!

After a quick lunch aboard, it was off again for an afternoon visit to the Brühl Palace & Falconlust Hunting Lodge of Clemens August (an Archbishop of the House of Wittelsbach, 1700-1761). The guide was Mohammed who was very good though he got off to a rough start by promising us a short walk to our motor coach “just under the bridge”. We walked, & walked & walked….down streets, over a bridge, walking some more before coming the the bridge he was talking about. There was much grumbling about bridges & which bridges & you might have mentioned……

It was worth the walk, however, & the ride on the autobahn, though “no speed limit” doesn’t mean much in bumper to bumper traffic! Even with clear highway ahead, no one seemed to drive all that fast. Pretty much everything the Archbishop owned was adorned with the letters “CA” & portraits of himself, sometimes of family. He was an avid falconer, deeply invested in the trappings of status, gentlemanly behavior, & good sportsmanship. There was a LOT of conspicuous consumption & the rococo style was much in evidence. Rococo means “shell” which cleared up, for me, the very puzzling presence of seashell decor in the heart of Germany.
Some photos are below; there are just not enough words to describe the extravagance of these two palaces. I will mention the absolutely incredible collection of original antique Asian porcelain – vases & figurines. I’m an (oh, so minor) collector myself & these left me completely dumbstruck!
All in all we walked for seven hours in total.

I was still awake sometime after 11:30 Monday night when I heard the engines begin to rumble into life & at 11:53, Viking Modi began to pull away from her berth & turn into the current. By the time she had built up a full head of steam, mine had run out completely, & I joined Larry in the comfy king-sized bed in our stateroom. We both slept soundly until the alarm rang at six AM & we were happy to see a few patches of blue sky. Great! We’d scored one of the Netherlands’ 105 dry days of 2021!

Breakfast was delicious (Eggs Benedict for me) &, best of all, it appeared without me having to do more than lift a fork; someone even unfolded my napkin for me! The dining room staff already knows us by name AND our preferences! How they manage this I will never understand! Their advice on what to order is utterly reliable as well.

At 8:15 we met our group & walked through the cool misty morning to our waiting “barge”, actually a very boat with a roof & wide windows lining both sides. The windows opened by swinging upwards in one piece & our guide recommended keeping them open until we were underway to prevent them fogging up. Later they gifted Larry – & his Nikon camera – with an ice water bath!

We could see windmills in the not very far distance & “Vim”, our Dutch guide immediately began educating us on every aspect of windmills, why those on the right are stone while those on the left side are wooden, on milling, & the part windmills play in the Netherlands now & how they did in the past. During WWII, young Dutch men hid in the mills from German inscription agents & there was an elaborate signaling system on the windmill vanes that told them when to hide because the Germans were coming.

Windmills, of course, mill grain etc. but they also are used (now mostly) to divert water. The Netherlands are, on average, 6+ meters below sea level. Some windmills are still inhabited by the families that run them. Others are being operated by millers who live nearby, & some, like the one we visited, are functional, but are also museums for visitors to see & learn from. The family quarters, outbuildings & gardens, even livestock – goats, chickens & rabbits – could still be seen. It was fascinating. Edith was the miller of the windmill we visited & the first thing everyone noticed was her wooden shoes. They are everyday footwear in common usage throughout the countryside, she explained; warm, safe, comfortable, & cheap. Unlined & bought by shoe size, they were held on by a leather strap & even available online. Edith runs the windmill itself & conducts tours, explaining the workings to visitors. Listening to her explanation, it sounded like incredibly hard labor for a single person, much less a small woman. She, like most guides we’ve encountered through Viking, was incredibly knowledgeable. One of the most fascinating things we learned was that the entire top of the building itself can be turned to orient the “windmill” portion to take the best advantage of the wind direction. It requires repositioning massive chains which Edith does all by herself; it’s the reason why I was so impressed that she was able to run a mill alone.

Vim told us how millers with sons who professed an interest in someday performing the same work, had small “model” windmills on their properties. When the father would do a job, he would have the boy perform the same task on his own, scaled down, windmill. By the time he was grown, the boy knew how to run & repair a mill & how to keep the big blades balanced & sheeted suitably for the speed of the wind. This is very important as all the blades must be weighted equally for things ro go smoothly. (The expression, “three sheets to the wind” may have come from observing the drunken behavior of a windmill with improperly balanced “sails” on it.) One of the things I love about Viking is their devotion to enrichment & how they find guides who dish out this fascinating trivia in addition to factual information.

The windmill we visited is now a museum, but the furnishings are still present from when a family with four children lived & worked there. The “master” bedroom was minuscule, and the children slept together in the loft. The wooden gears & other working parts of the mill were visible within & we questioned how safe it was for the little ones. The kitchen & pantry were also tiny & made me grateful for the luxury I enjoy at home; there will be no more comparing it to what I once had in the house on Torch Lake!

In addition to visiting the windmill, we learned a lot about the Netherlands history, culture & topography. The Netherlands is 6-12 meters below sea level & prone to flooding if the windmills fail to do their jobs redirecting, and moving, water from one place to another. (In this area they redirect excess water to a place called “High Bosoms”, which I somehow found incredibly funny; lack of sleep maybe.) The weather cooperated – somewhat; it was cool (cold, by our standards) and fairly overcast, but it didn’t quite rain. We were back in time for a late warming lunch & still sufficiently tired from our travels to take naps before the 6 PM Port Talk & a wonderful dinner of chateaubriand & such a fabulous assortment of desserts that Larry couldn’t decide between them & our standard favorite, vanilla bourbon crème brûlée . . . So they brought him both bienenstich AND a crème brûlée while I fell victim to what is called chocolate lava cake in Hawai’i….a luscious little hunk of rich dark chocolate cake with a molten chocolate centerI Everybody, of course, tasted everything.

We were early to bed so we could be ready by 8:30 for a full day of exploring Cologne, Germany on Wednesday.

Welterusten mijn vrienden

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You already know we made it onto our flight out of Maui. It wasn’t as bad as American, but I can’t say it was an impressive experience. First Class on United does seat you in pods, & they are “lay-flat beds” (no jammies though). However, at no point did anyone offer us a beverage – of any kind – and when they eventually came around to take dinner orders it was to pretty much assure us we wouldn’t get our first choice. When we asked for a drink they said there would be one on our dinner tray; so we both ordered a glass of wine. It was not what I wanted, but it seemed more appropriate than a vodka tonic especially since they had neither fresh limes nor lemons aboard. We were in the last “row”, except the seats are staggered so we weren’t sitting “together” by any stretch of the imagination. We did get our “first choice” of entrées, but the three chunks of breaded chicken were almost inedibly dry and tasteless & the unadorned white rice was actually crunchy. I should have sprung for the pineapple fried rice. Although they had announced that there would be drink service again (?!) an hour out of Newark – and I did see a passenger or two appear to be ordering something about then – nobody ever appeared to offer US anything! When I mentioned this to our flight attendant just prior to final approach, she gave me an indignant look & pointed to a tiny red crescent moon on a panel by my thigh. “YOU have had your DO NOT DISTURB light on for the entire trip!” she said in a highly aggrieved tone. The light itself was on the OUTSIDE of the wall around the pod, entirely out of my sight; I didn’t have a clue! Even if I’d noticed the tiny red moon, I’d have had no idea what it meant; there was no legend.

We spent the eight hour layover in United’s Premier Lounge. It didn’t hold a candle to Qatar’s, but beat sitting in rock-hard chairs at a gate, and they had food – individually wrapped, pandemic-style snacks – and a bar. Since we landed at 6:45 AM, we stuck to coffee until late afternoon. Before we could board our next flight we had to show our documentation again, including proof of vaccination. . . . but not our Covid tests. Grrrrrrrrr! Our plane for the final leg not only had seats in better proximity to one another, but better accoutrements; two pillows and a quilt instead of a thin blanket, for example. (I almost froze to death on the first leg & had to ask for an extra blanket. I was dressed warmly too! I was afraid to ask Larry how he fared; he intended to wear a sport coat but forgot.) Our lead flight attendant was a delightful gentleman named Neil & I told him immediately that I would NOT be using the DO NOT DISTURB light during the flight & if he saw it on, please let me know! I explained. He was horrified, especially when he discovered that I’d been awake the entire nine & a half hours! Suffice to say the service was excellent, the food (& drink) were better & Neil stopped by to chat several times. He even took my seat apart & found the missing oximeter that had mysteriously disappeared. (A blessing since without it I have no choice but to wear oxygen 100% of the time we’re aloft.) Larry said he’d bet there were others on the plane going on the Viking cruise. Sure enough, the couple in the seats just ahead of us were members of a party of ten also headed for the Modi!

At the Amsterdam airport we raced through to Passport Control. It was another 6:30 AM arrival & we stood in line only briefly before handing our passports over, preparing to follow it with anything else they could possibly ask for. The young woman studied our passports & called a man over to help. He asked us, gruffly, where we were headed. When we said the Viking Modi, he explained (something) about Viking to the young lady and sent us on our way. WAIT JUST A DARNED MINUTE! AGAIN!??!!!?? Again there was no interest in Covid testing, not even a glance at a vaccine card. And, by the way, except for travelers, most of the people you see In Amsterdam are NOT WEARING MASKS! In fact, it is said, that you can always spot Americans; they’re the ones wearing the masks everywhere! Be that as it may, one – and by that I mean EVERYONE – wears masks aboard Viking Anything. All Viking cruises are open to vaccinated passengers only. Everyone is tested daily & tests go by courier to labs in Amsterdam, Vienna & Budapest. But the rules state masks when moving about….outside and the minute your bottom meets a surface? Off they come. Silly.

As soon as we cleared Passport Control, we encountered the first red-jacketed Viking Representatives. They rounded up Viking guests and soon had us aboard brightly lighted modern motor coaches and headed the 45 minutes though town center Amsterdam to meet Modi. We got a nice tour by virtue of the tunnel being closed. Unfortunately, in the rain & gloom, Amsterdam didn’t make much of an impression and bore no resemblance to the beautiful photos
we’d seen. We later learned that it rains 260 days a year in Amsterdam.

We made it to the ship, lying so close we didn’t even get an impression before we were aboard; the interior was lovely, however, and the staff pure Viking, as always. Our stateroom was ready, amazing since we practically passed the passengers disembarking from the previous cruise on the gangway! Nonetheless, our two room suite was spotless and we met our housekeeper, Jonathan outside in the corridor. Predictably charming. We had lunch and slept the afternoon away, appearing just in time for a six o’clock orientation and then dinner. We’ve decided to try to join larger tables instead of sitting alone so we’ll get to know our fellow travelers. Tomorrow we visit Kinderdijk and take a boat trip down a canal to a working windmill.