View from our balcony
It's all about the breakfast
As Ryan went to park the car down the road where there's no meter, I took a walk up the steep hill to find where we rent the bikes. Ryan caught up and we together rang the doorbell at someone's house, she came down and pulled two bikes out of our garage, made me basically sign something I didn't read, we made small talk in German, and off we went. In German, she said, "Do you want two locks or just the one? You don't even need to lock them up, I've never had one stolen." We didn't want to be the first so we dutifully locked them up all day.
Wow, Cochem is a fairytale town from the look at it. A castle towers above, picturesque buildings fill the panorama, and a ski lift takes you up for a view of the town.
After making our way down, we stopped for a bite of Pflannküchen, which is very thin crust with Creme Fraische on top with Speck (bacon/sliced ham) and Zweibeln (usually spring onion or large leek-sized spring onion) on top. So. Good.
After that moment, we toured the town of Cochem. Touristy, full of white-haired travelers (and even what must have been a gay cruise that disembarked in the town, but we only know because we know most wouldn't catch it) browsing second-hand things that they wouldn't give the time of day at home. I guess that's touring for you but Cochem has few wine tasting places (Weinstub) that are legit and more t-shirt, ice cream, and restaurants that will make you a pizza, Wiener schnitzel, and Kung pao chicken just point to the picture on the 10-language menu!
We had to explore, figure out what a local would do. Oh, we found it. And it's not pretty. The pictures and video are on my camera.
Tucked up a street is a dirty bar that hasn't been properly cleaned since it opened in 1974, and run by a couple who were stuck sometime in the late 1970s, pretty drunk by mid-day, and absolutely filthy. Now, we didn't realize this the minute we walked in, we saw they had draft beer, we saw a stool, and the kind Boy Scouts in us will give anyone a chance. Remember, we wanted to see where the locals went.
The guy next to me on his bar stool tottered on it precariously and slurred into his bottle of beer. I didn't realize why he was drinking a bottle of the same beer that have on tap, which is delicious so close to the breweries!
We order a beer from the wavering owner, he grabs two glasses and dips the tops in his supposedly-bleach wash. I think my mouth dropped because while it's normal to wet the glass before pouring (it makes the foam luxurious and keeps it from foaming too much from the beginning) I hadn't seen someone do it in the bleach solution.
He filled it and then plunks it down and we have a taste. Now I know why the drunk local who "wars gebuooornned im Cochhseem vonnn meinsh muttern" drinks only from a bottle.
A poor German couple sat awaiting food in the corner. I felt bad. Mostly when the dumbwaiter rang somewhere behind me and the owner went and took it over to them. Where had that come from, how unsanitary would it be, and...what the hell is that? Why is a diorama of the Cochem Schloss doing in this hellhole?! It was a meter wide by a meter long and likely dusty and uncleaned since it was installed in 1977.
Her attention turned to the German couple who started to eat. How wonderful is this food. You know, I make my food from order, isn't the sauce delicious, are you enjoying the Spätzle? (She pauses to take a nip on a shot glass of likely Calvados.) One-two punch team. I paid her as quick as I could while Ryan waited outside. The reek in our mouths were so strong we needed water from the Mosel to clean it out.
"Warten, warten Sie bitte," she called out as I tried to duck away. The drunk local starts laughing. She hands me a postcard. A very nice postcard, with a professionally shot photo of the diorama taken around 1980. "Tschüß!" A very nice and maybe a bit cockeyed smile from her and we disappeared.
We grabbed our bikes and couldn't stand the taste in our mouths. We stopped for a shot of Jägermeister at the first place we could find. That didn't even do it. We rode, rode, rode, until we found a place mid-way back to Beilstein with fine wines, a nice view, no locals except the server, and no freaking diorama.
Yay Graubürgunder!
We got home, took cold showers, took a nap, woke up in a fright that we had missed a place to eat since everything shuts down their kitchens early, but had a slightly uncomfortable meal (the prudes next to us didn't like that we looked either Bavarian [either accent or that we were wearing shorts] or Schwule [Gay]), and went soundly to sleep.
Tschüß!!
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