Palace (Aschaffenburg, Germany)

Another surprise town today, dear reader, as we are being drip fed information while the good people at APT do everything possible to keep us on the water and close to our original timetable. The itinerary and conditions are changeable and we appreciate all the work going into it. We are the only company still sailing at present. Aschaffenburg, another quaint little town on the river, is not a major cruise destination because there is no port close to the town. We are docked in the industrial area. Also the translation of the town name into 'mountain of ash' isn't exactly inspiring.

The Johannisburg Palace

It was a short bus ride into the town and Chris, our guide, is a local. His accent is vaguely British because his father is English, much like Nick, our guide in Budapest. The main attraction is Johannisburg Palace and the local brewery - no surprises there. And so today's title, Palace, by Sam Smith from 2017. He has a beautiful voice.

The church, a mixture of styles

We arrived at the main church of the town, five minutes prior to the service commencing. How did we know? The bells, the bells, to let people know they had minutes to get to the church. They were so loud that we couldn't hear Chris in our earpieces. The "bell ringer's" house is next door to the church and is covered in an artwork depicting Mary Magdalene. She looks unconvincingly Germanic for someone born in the Middle East. Religious appropriation. It's a thing.

The bell ringer's house with Germanic MM.

A stroll to the Palace saw us passing eateries, a brewery and another church. We were regaled with historic stories and childhood recollections before a slight pause and then, a return to the brewery. Three beers were sampled, one of which was referred to as a 'breakfast beer'. Hmmm, not so much. This second beer, was not Jayne's favourite, as it had the vague taste of banana. It was just wrong. The third beer was a dark beer but not smokey, like the Bamburg signature brew.

Another church. No idea. Don't care. Didn't go inside.

We then received another dissertation on the nuanced tensions around whether to call the locals Bavarians or Franconians or, in this particular place, Aschaffenburgers (prefered we are told), after which it was back to the Palace for the tour. The signage was not helpful. Perhaps non-existent is a better term. Across the cobblestoned bridge and into the courtyard. It didn't help a great deal. We followed some people across to a door in the far corner. It was closed but not locked. In we went. It was a chapel. One room.

The chapel altar.

Outside again. We tried another door. Locked. So we headed back towards where we came in. There was another closed door. It was also unlocked and was the entrance to the museum. No signs. After negotiating the tricky lockers (it cost €1 but there were no signs and you only found out when you looked inside the locker at the locking mechanism), we dropped off the pack and our caps and headed upstairs.

They had some nice timberwork on display.

There were a number of displays that were spread over part of two storeys, and there were areas being redeveloped so they were not open. Some of them focused on the Palace, others were art exhibitions and there was a particularly esoteric series of cork models of famous Roman buildings (Colosseum, Pantheon, various temples etc). They were made by the local confectioner. I would have thought he would have been too busy working on sweet delights to spend the hours, days, months, even years that would have been required to produce this level of 41 detailed constructions. No photos, not because of the usual reasons, I just thought it strange. 

Down, down a long spiral staircase, eventually, we were finally and unexpectedly ejected into the chapel where we had commenced our interior tour of the palace. We then had to wend our way back across the open courtyard to retrieve our belongings from the lockers at the entry. Bonus - they were like Aldi shopping trolleys and once you put the key back in the lock, you got your €1 back!!

One of those buildings was probably the Pompeii thing.

Nearby there was building called the Pompejanum. Jayne prefers the Latin spelling, even though it is a German interpretation - Pompeiianum.  This was a fully reproduced replica of a building that would have existed in Pompeii at the time of the eruption. We weren't quite sure where it was and didn't want to risk the walk because the bus was heading back to the ship at 1:30pm and the next shuttle wasn't arriving until 4:30pm. So we walked around the local area until it was time to board the bus. The shuttle timeline turned out to be a typo on the day sheet but we were on the bus so it was back to the ship.

The Palace garden

As we missed lunch both in town and on the ship, we ordered a margherita pizza at the bar. This was important to me. It was my first pizza on this trip. I try to eat a pizza in every country I'm in so I can be disappointed. Believe me, I have been disappointed by pizza in many places. Today was certainly no exception - won't be doing that again. 

The afternoon was spent blogging and relaxing, while chatting, over drinks, to a couple of fellow cruisers who have led fascinating lives as freelance photographers, nurses, yachts people and farmers. And that was just two people.

No idea. It was glued to the bridge leading to the palace.

Traffic on the river increased as the afternoon wore on and perhaps as the beer had its effect. It's always a good idea to go day drinking in the sun. We watched canoes, quad skulls, jet skis, speed boats, cruisers and other pleasure craft go by. Some were quiet and unassuming, others were colourful and flashy, blaring loud music. Jetski really does spell dickhead in all languages, don't you think dear reader?

This falls into the category of 'other pleasure craft'.

We set sail for Frankfurt at 5:30pm and will find out later tonight what our options are tomorrow. Beyond that we are looking at 9 hours (with stops) on a coach from Frankfurt to Amsterdam very soon.

River life contains many surprises and not all of them are associated with the water level. As we sailed towards dinner many of the locals made use of the river. Although it had been a hot day and a dip in the evening would have been pleasant, the algal bloom certainly would have kept me onshore. Not so one rotund local. As we passed he dropped his very bright red board shorts and performed what is known in NRL circles as "the helicopter". While I am not convinced this helicopter would have achieved lift off, the nickname donkey would not have been misplaced. The spectacle was much appreciated by the crowd in the lounge and was met by a mixtures of cheers and horrified amusement.

Dinner was, as usual, delightful and we spent an enjoyable few hours with our Tassie friends and reigning trivia champions.

Until tomorrow.