Basel to Freiburg to Berg

A late weekend start, and we began with traditional bread that is only eaten on Saturdays – a huge knotted loaf with a slight sweetness to it, and some eggs provided to us with their own attire, which we massacred. The boys had bought a waterproof bag the day before, which the locals all had to put their gear into as they bobbed down the river (just like Bern…). They decided to put it to the test, and as I was still shade-hunting, I grabbed a coffee (which was the worst one I think I’ve ever had in my life!) by the river, and read a book while waiting for three heads to emerge from the water. The water wasn’t as cold as Bern, and the river was a lot wider, which meant you could choose what ‘lane’ you floated down, and the boys took a slower-moving one, although there were some pretty speedy sections in the middle.

It was then back on the road to Freiburg, Germany, which was a pretty short journey, and we arrived in the early evening. A small, quaint city, with the strange factor of small canals that run like gutters at the sides of the road throughout the centre. The information booths had just closed, and we were still without a place to sleep, so we walked off in the direction of the nearest hostel. Unsuccessful there, as it was a weekend, and a lot of people head towards the Black Forest ranges that surround the town, we decided to try our luck at the campsite (even though we didn’t have a tent), in the hope they may have a spare cabin of sorts free for three lovely New Zealanders… A fair walk away, we ended up at what we thought was the entrance to the camp, but was merely a huge grassy hill that other campers were using, as it was free land (sleeping under the stars became a possibility). Finally arriving at the campsite, we had a stroke of luck, as a family had cancelled when one of the children had become ill (lucky for us anyway), and a three person wooden hut was free for the night. Simply a wooden shack with a large mattress on the floor, it was all we were after, and we happily lugged our gear in and headed towards the Biergarten for dinner and drinks.

After resorting to my preferred drink of wine for the entire trip, now I was in Germany there was apparently no excuse for not joining in on the local tradition (even the fact that I hated the stuff wasn’t enough). I ended up trying a pale Weiss Bier (or white beer), which I actually managed to finish. Let’s not point out that the boys overtook me severely, and I ended up resorting back to wine, but we had a great night in the gardens before retreating to the cabin for sleep.

The next morning, we decided to go for an early walk through the hills that border the famous Black Forest in Germany, and ended up climbing the steep tracks, trying to decipher German signs, and starting to understand how easily tourists get lost on the tracks in New Zealand if they don’t know the language. A very well-used route, we encountered many walkers along the track, as well as the odd snake, a dead mole… A lookout awaited us at the end of our path, although you couldn’t see much as the foliage had outgrown the area and there were many tall trees in the way.

Instead, we picked the stairs so that we could get to a more desirable view, climbing 289 steps to the bottom of a man-made tower, and then another few hundred up a metal and tree-trunk circular structure, which became dizzying at the top; the structure swayed in the wind with the movement. After taking in some fantastic panoramic views, we climbed back down, and headed into the old town for lunch. Following music we could hear in the distance, we arrived at a beer garden (the Sunday tradition in Germany, if not every day…), with a live horn band playing some tunes. Becoming the token tourists who have to order from the English menu, we ordered some beer garden favourites (Weisswurst) with the most amazing honey mustards we’d tried, and our love for Bretzels began…yum.

After walking the old town and getting caught in a rainstorm, our jandals slipping on the cobblestones, we found an outdoor café to have a coffee and share some Black Forest cake in the home of the Black Forest. Chocolately, cherry goodness…

We were searching for a place to stay that night, and had received a reply to our couchsurfing request for Konstanz, Germany from a girl Denise who didn’t live in Konstanz, but a short drive from there in a rural area called Berg (on the Swiss side of the border). Since we had a car, it was no problem being a little out of the centre, so we hopped back on the road to her place. A shortish drive later, we arrived in Berg to the familiar smell of rural farmland we hadn’t had in a while. Denise lived in her family home with her sister, and her boyfriend Brent from Australia was also there when we arrived. After spending a lot of time in Germany he was finding so many similarities between us, and getting used to speaking English again with people who share (somewhat) of a similar sense of humour.

Approaching dinner time, we jumped in the car and drove to Konstanz for some food, and our first glimpse at the giant lake. As we parked on the Swiss side, and were dining on the German side, Josh took the opportunity to do the old jumping photo, side to side across the border. We sad down to some drinks and a Mexican meal, before a beer (for the ones that could fit it in - not me!) at a beer garden by the lake before heading home for the night.