For the second day on the trot I was given breakfast in bed. I had a terrible feeling of Dejà Vu but as I was in Germany it must have been Schon Gesehen. We spent the morning sorting out e-mails etc. then, after a ham and cheese lunch, the sun came out and tempted us to go sightseeing again. But not just any old sight to go and see. Oh no, dear readers, this was Loreley.

As the said famous siren was on the other side of the river, we drove down to the ferry in Boppard (it hadn’t left this time), drove onboard carefully indeed very carefully and were transported to the opposite bank with a strange sideways movement reminiscent of a giant crab with 7 people, 2 bicycles and 3 cars on its back. Once on the other side (I now sound like Darth Vadar) Mary asked me to head for Kamp Bornhofen where she had stayed with her school kids earlier this year. It sounded a bit like Belmont to me, but it turned out to be a lovely wee village filled with lovely wee villagers. After only 20 minutes searching (in a village a quarter of the size of Coupar Angus!) Mary traced the very hotel she stayed in 8 weeks ago, a huge green and white edifice, the Jägerhof Hotel, set back not 10 metres from the main road on the banks of the Rhine. Now I knew why she wanted to be a detective!

We went inside for a drink and hoped to meet the owner with whom Mary had struck up a friendship. Well, there she was, all 4ft 7in of her, a veritable German gnome if ever I saw one. I realised why Mary wanted to see this person again. It would mean that for 5 glorious minutes on our European trip she wouldn’t be the smallest person in the room. We shared a beer with Heidi or whatever her name was, although our bonding of international relations cost me 6 euros, I kid you not, the Gnädige Frau actually asked me to pay for the drinks! That’ll be Auf Wiedersehen then? I think nicht!

Slightly further down the river we came to St. Goarshausen above which towers the mighty rock from which the siren Loreley lured the mariners to their untimely doom on the jagged teeth below the surface. Or so they say. Fortunately there is now a road which took us all the way to the top from where we were treated to some stunning views of the Rhine down below. From up there we noticed a sort of finger of land which stretched out into the river and had a large statue of the Loreley in all her unclothed glory at the tip of it. I had to see this up close and we needed a bit of a walk anyway, so this became our next target. Back down in the village we drove to a car park and then walked the length of this “finger” until its very end where stood the statue. That was fun, and don’t forget, I’ll post some photos later on.

The guy on the ferry thought he was a total wit. He confirmed the ferries were every half-hour, but when I asked ” From?” he answered “From this side to that side”. Very funny indeed. I was so impressed that I told him to shove his ferry up his Loreley. We drove on and caught the same ferry back as we had taken over and then made our way back to the campsite.

Before tea there were one or two domestic chores to be done, one of which was to empty the toilet potty. Oh boy did I get that wrong! Not only did I spray myself with pee by pushing the pressure release valve while holding the container in an upright position, but I then got shouted at by an irate German for emptying the receptacle into the wrong disposal grate. Ok so it said “Trinkwasser” but the sign was behind a big rolled-up hose. I placated our angry Teutonic by explaining I was just a wee boy from Dundee where everyone drank there own urine. My success in calming him down was I think due entirely to delivering the apology in heavily-accented Scots dialect and adding “Ich kann nicht Deutsch”. They are so understanding.

Tea was followed by “Waterloo Road” (better this week but really, a Headie who dives into the sea to save a drowning crippled Muslim pupil?) then the second part of “Good Cop” which is quite promising as far as dramas go.

Keep the comments coming, my friends, and spare a thought for us constantly stressed by what we are going to do the next day.