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Rhine in Flames Day 3

The next day was a free day on which most of the group chose to follow the suggestion of a train journey to nearby Rüdesheim. Howard and I had planned a ride to an aviation museum an hour away, but public transport wasn't practical and I didn't want to go on my own. I'd built the museum up in my mind rather, and was disappointed, as well as angry with myself for feeling that way when I at least retained full use of my motorcycle and all limbs.

Instead, while Howard rang his insurance company, I explored Boppard, discovering the one-euro shop. Later we had lunch on the market square (I had a Flammkuchen and it was delicious) while watching tourists and dogs pass by.

One of the town's attractions turned out to be a chairlift, a kilometre's walk away. The ride took twenty minutes, with stunning views of river, road and railway, although any hopes we had that it might be cooler on top of a hill were soon dashed. We walked to the viewpoint, but were very careful to be back at the boarding station before the 6pm cutoff; we had seen the footpath from above and it looked steep.

It was a somewhat fraught day, what with shredded nerves and not much sleep and 34° temperatures. Dinner was at the hotel, which had outside tables sheltered by marquees and overlooking the Rhine. We selected Bob, Official Back Marker for the tour, and his wife Jo as nice, relaxing table companions. Unfortunately we were also joined by a genuine drunken sailor from the former Eastern bloc, who kept touching me inappropriately (IE TOUCHING ME AT ALL EVER) and pretending he was going to give Howard a comradely slap on his bad shoulder. In the end we fled into the hotel to get away, possibly landing him with our drinks bill in the process.

Miles: 0

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Comments

That's at least one amazingly beautiful view, despite the cost incurred. And yes, not missing the last ride down is a Good Thing, as I once discovered when I inadvertently went off-piste, and missed the cutoff, forcing me to ski down the rest of the way in fading light. ^_^;;

At least there's perhaps karma for the sailor in some regard. Egh. But then, I suppose that's what ethanol does - brings out our true natures. And in some people's cases, that's basically an arse.
I don't suppose he was a bad guy, just not very good at picking up on other people's behavioural cues! I feel a little bad for the way we fled him, but he probably didn't remember much about it the next day.