A different side of Frankfurt

The campsite in Koblenz, right at the riverfront. 

Out of some crazy notion that one can just cycle indefinitely and still not get tired, yesterday I decided to ride all the way from Koblenz to Frankfurt. Now, on the map it does not look like such a long way, although the bike route following the Rhein and later the Main rivers is certainly a lot more winding than if one was just traversing the country as bird flies. However, the formidable hills that flank the Rhein on this stretch quickly made me abandon any idea of a shortcut, and I was ever so glad for this decision the further the day progressed. In the morning, the route followed a part of the Rhein valley that has been granted a UNESCO World Heritage status, which normally means an area of extraordinary natural beauty as well as marked influence of local culture in the form of architecture and landscapes being moulded by for example agriculture. To be honest, at first I could not really see what the point was here; the river valley itself was certainly pretty, with some pretty steep cliffs on both sides of the river, but there was little in the form of cultural influence I have come to expect from other such areas. Indeed, even in terms of natural beauty I could easily think of other river valleys (say in Bosnia, or most recently, on La Réunion) that were more majestic and thus more deserving of such a prestigious status.

A little bit further on, however, when the cavalcade of castles, ruins and monasteries started, I could see what the point was. There seemed to be hardly an outcrop in the cliffs towering above me that did not have its own castle of sorts, and the roadside too was packed with churches, monasteries, wineries and lovely, well-preserved houses all bearing marks of history. Inevitably, there were also a lot more tourists and traffic, but fortunately the bike path was separated from other traffic almost all the way.

I had a lunch of bratwurst and fries (hmm, I wonder what a dietician would say about that?) at an imbiss in Trechtingshausen after about 4 hours' cycling, and at this point still thought it would be just a short hop to Frankfurt. Indeed, on the map it looked more or less as the same distance I had covered in the morning, which with the strong tail wind (still!) would be no problem at all.

So I carried on, listening to another audio book I had downloaded for the trip. This one, " A Thousand Splendid Suns", is a best-seller that many people I know have read and liked, but based on the first couple of chapters I am not yet half as captivated as I was ever since the first lines of "Somewhere Towards The End". (Perhaps this is due to the simple fact that this book is indeed fiction, which never was my greatest passion?)

A little bit before Mainz the scenery changed just as abruptly as it had before, and now I was traversing flat agricultural lands, marshland and an occasional patch of suburb. In Mainz, I found an Internet Cafe and looked for a hostel in Frankfurt as well as checking if there would be any milongas taking place tonight. And there would be! There was even a remark that despite Germany taking part in an "International Sports Competition" (read: the FIFA World Cup in South Africa) there would indeed be tango tonight. So, it was decided; I would push on to Frankfurt. Mind you, at this point I had only a faint idea how far it would be.

It turned out to be another 40 km mostly along the Main River, which, after 6 hours of continuous cycling is not impossible, but certainly an effort. Fortunately there were still no hills and the route, although winding, was mostly in good condition with almost no other cyclists. Getting closer to Frankfurt I was constantly being reminded of the proximity of the airport by the overflying planes. I think I must have spent days of my life in this particular airport, as for years, Frankfurt has been my preferred airport for connecting towards Africa. It felt strange, knowing that it had taken me over 5 weeks to get here, which in a plane would have been no more than a 2,5 hour flight! 

Upon getting to Frankfurt, it was evident that I was already pretty exhausted, as I managed to miss the signs for the main railway station totally, ending up making a large circle around the centre and stopping in (too!) many streets corners to scratch my head and look bewilderedly at the maps displayed.In the end, I had to ask to policemen, who did point me to the right direction but also informed me that it was totally forbidden to listen to music while cycling, something that I have been doing almost every day during me traverse of Germany. (Come to think of it, it was in Sweden where I had asked whether it was ok, although it felt like it was only yesterday!)

Having managed to locate the hostel (right opposite the Railway Station), I unloaded the bike, signed in, and almost collapsed in the shower. It had been another day of almost 12 hours of cycling (in quite high temperatures too!), and despite the bratwurst I was feeling like I had never eaten a thing but was actually at that stage where one does not feel hunger anymore, just a sick, nauseating feeling at the bottom of an empty stomach. Obviously, the wisest thing would have been to take it easy, eat well and go to bed.

I think you know me well enough to see that was not what I did. Instead, I gulped down a barely warmed up meal of spaghetti carbonara, got on the bike and went looking for the milonga that took place a fair bit out of the city centre. All the streets, bars and restaurants were full of people excitedly watching Germany's first match, and the noise from all those loudspeakers was just incredible. Myself, I don't really give a toss about football in the first place, especially when there is a chance of tango!

Getting to the place, Romanfabrik, involved a lengthy ride (or so it seemed), but I was mostly concerned with there being anybody to dance with. Additionally, I realised I was actually quite tired, and thus did not harbour any great hopes about dancing a lot or with any particular success.I just wanted to see if there were any dancers, hear the music and maybe do a tanda or two.

Dancers in Romanfabrik.

What a surprise it all was. The venue was very beautiful indeed, in a renovated industrial building turned into office spaces, studios and restaurants, and with the lovely lighting and tasteful decoration maybe the most attractive location for a milonga I have seen so far.

But my biggest surprise was the level of dancing. Upon walking in, I immediately took in two things: first, that there indeed were quite a lot of people, and second, that the level of dancing was by far the highest I have seen so far in any milonga. Perhaps it was due to the football match, who knows, but it seemed that only people already well hooked on tango had come to dance here. There did not seem to be any beginners either, and the leaders (and followers!) all had really lovely posture and musical style of dancing. And what's more, there seemed to be more men than women! Perhaps due to this, it did not take more than a couple of minutes for the first man to ask me to dance.

In the end, I was dancing almost without interruption for the next couple of hours, and to my surprise found out that despite my considerable exhaustion, I was still able to follow more or less to my best standards. Indeed, something really seems to have happened to my dancing in the past week or so, as the movements are just getting easier and my balance is fast improving. Obviously, this is also due to dancing with very skilled leaders who can quickly judge my level, and lead accordingly!

Dancing with Siegfried, another of those unique experiences that this journey is so full of.

By far the most important thing, however, is the emotion I get from dancing, even with complete strangers. I think there is a unique, inexplicable sense of trust that has evolved out of nowhere that lets me get so immersed in sharing those moments on the dance floor. Despite all the cultural differences, the language barrier (which I am doing my best to overcome, without resorting to English) and the different dancing styles, I find it easier and easier to get into this mode while dancing. That in itself is a wonderful gift.

It was certainly an unforgettable experience. Thank You, Frankfurt!