This will be my last blog from Germany as I’m off to London tomorrow. A nice catch-up with Diana, then it’s Winchester for the weekend and, I hope, a visit to Salisbury. I might not get back to the blog before next Tuesday so I should have a lot to report then!

The last few days here in the Rhine Valley have been wonderful, as, indeed, has the entire visit. On Sunday night there was a most enjoyable family gathering at a Weinhaus. This is something between a restaurant and a privately-owned pub where a vintner exposes the vintage to the public. I enjoyed the meal (the place had a much better menu than similarly priced restaurants in Australia) and the company as it was a chance to meet my children’s third cousins and their partners. However, I stupidly ordered rosé instead of white. I know red wine gives me a migraine but I kidded myself rosé would be different. Not so – I woke at 2.00am with a pounding head and a sick stomach, dammit!

The usual medication and a sleep-in fixed things, thank heavens, and I was ready for Monday’s adventure, which was the long-awaited photo opportunity at the Geisenheim parish church. I have the trophies safely on CD and have noted lots of useful info to draw on when I come to write up my journeyings more fully later in the year.


Yesterday was a highlight: a trip to the lovely city of Wiesbaden. Wiesbaden exists purely for the exercise of life’s more refined pleasures. First and foremost, of course, it is a spa town and has been so ever since Roman times. Hot fountains gush the slightly salty waters for which the town is famous. I took the opportunity to top up my trusty water bottle and sipped on the waters of Weisbaden for the rest of the day. I feel well and alert today, but whether or not that’s because of the water I don’t know. However, the spas are the height of luxury and people spend a lot of money to indulge in a swim, shower, spa, sauna, massage, mud or sand bath or whatever else takes their fancy, and surely they can’t all be deluded!


Water or no water, Wiesbaden is a delight. It has a wonderful theatre precinct which contains several magnificent rooms for balls and concerts as well as three theatres ranging from an opera house seating over 1000 people to an intimate studio for experimental productions. We were able to sneak a peak into the concert hall thanks to the kind offices of one of the attendants, but the theatres were all in use for rehearsals. A constant stream of cultural activities flows in Wiesbaden. It is not a huge town—maybe 280,000 people—but its pleasures are readily available to residents of the Rhine Valley, Mainz, Frankfurt and surrounding areas. That is the wonder of Europe – everything is within driving distance, and public transport, while not cheap, is always accessible. Elfriede and I rode around the town on a tiny tourist train; not one that runs on tracks, but on normal wheels. We stopped for ten minutes high on a hill over the town (which is built around a natural basin opening onto the Rhine) to view the famous Russian church. Like the Taj Mahal, it was built by a grieving royal husband as a mausoleum for his wife. She died at only 19, and her infant daughter with her, but the Russian Orthodox community of the region still benefits from the presence of the church. It is, of course, floridly gilded in the Russian manner, resembling, perhaps, a temple from the Far East rather than a European chapel, but its wildly colourful exotic beauty, while not to everyone’s taste, is a feast for the eyes.

Wiesbaden has always attracted the glitterati and has the shops to suit. Elfriede and I laughed at the prices. How about €200 for panties and a chemise? Pure silk and hand-embroidered, of course. But then you still have to buy things to put over the top (what a pity to hide such luxury!) and the prices there can run into the thousands. We restrained ourselves.


On the way home, we stopped to see the winery where Josef Neist worked before he emigrated to Australia. It has changed hands now, but I was able to photograph the door leading into the cellar where they made the champagne. We also saw the house where he and Margarethe lived, but couldn’t get a photo because of the traffic and cars parked in front. And the residents might not like having their house photographed, in any case.

This visit has been a joy and I am deeply grateful to Sam and Elfriede for their kindness and wonderful hospitality. And I must mention Karrie, the family’s black bitza dog. He is quite a character. German dogs talk, it seems: both Karrie and his “cousin” Gigi, Renate’s pet terrier, converse with their owners in tones that incorporate elements of yawning, whining and howling!

Yes, the Rhine Valley is a wonderful place to visit and also, I think, a wonderful place to live. Imagine a mild climate, riverside walks, drives or cycle rides, bush-walking, picnics, visits to wineries, numberless historical sites, every possible cultural and sporting experience and excellent shops, all within a half-hour drive! Das ist der Rheingau.