The weather improved greatly throughout my day at Schaffhausen, and I'd read that the falls are lit up at night, so I decided to give it a second look. And this was the view from the scenic Neuhausen Rheinfall station when I got back:
The falls roughly face West, so the evening is actually the best time to photograph them as the sunlight hits them directly.
Also, the boats stop at 6:30 in the summer, so we get a clearer view of the pool below, and no-one standing on the rock in the middle.
The trail on the Laufen side remains open though, so people can still see the falls up close, as described in the previous post.
The bridge on the far left of the top picture and at the back of the second picture is a rail bridge carrying the line from Neuhausen (central) to Schloss Laufen. It's no doubt one of the most spectacular in Europe, and it doubles up as a footbridge, allowing people to walk alongside some Swiss Dostos.
Oh, and they do light up the falls at night.
Schaffhausen has a great preserved historical centre. One of the entries to this would have been the Schwabentor, the Gate of Swabia, and indeed, it faces North, towards the southwestern area of Germany. Built in 1361, it burned down in 1932, and a couple of curious features were added to it during restoration.
As I took photos, a local woman in a car stopped at the red light and told me to "keep my eyes open". What? "Lappi tue d'Augen uf, that's what it says on the tower". I noticed it just after crossing back over.
When the tower was restored in the 1930s ("Renoviert 1933" is just visible above the relief), a road junction had appeared before it, and this sign was added to warn people walking around near the Schwabentor.
Another addition are the clocks, each surrounded by a painting which are clearly 20th-century works. Carl Roesch's tableaux are called Kosmos on the South side, Kreislauf ("Cycle") on the North side, and they depict our lives in the vastness of space, and subject to the inexorable march of time, and Death can be seen at the top of the clock above: modern style it may be, but the symbols are classics.
A few kilometres down the Rhine from Bacharach and on the other side, is the small town of Kaub. Its main attraction is the Pfalzgrafenstein, a remarkable, vaguely boat-shaped "castle" in the middle of the river. I use the term "castle" a bit loosely, as it wasn't a feudal lord's residence, rather a customs office on the river, with Gutenfels in the background providing a wider watch. A tollgate, basically. Sidenote, if you find other photos of this place, you'll notice how low the Rhine is right now...
While Burg Gutenfels in the hills has been converted into a hotel, not unlike Burg Stahleck discussed last time, the Pfalzgrafenstein has been preserved, and is open as a museum on some days of the week, with a small ferry allowing visitors to get there. Beside that, a car ferry runs all day between the two banks of the Rhine, so I could easily cross to quickly walk around Kaub.
Like a lot of riverside towns and villages in the area, Kaub is a charming place with many old buildings. It provides a picturesque backdrop to all the traffic going by, boats and trains, and the Rechte Rheinstrecke, the railway line between Wiesbaden and Koblenz on the right-hand side of the Rhine, was seeing more trains than usual, as the section between Mainz and Bingen on the Linke Rheinstrecke was closed. Long-distance trains, like this international EuroCity service bound for Zürich, were (and at time of writing probably still are) diverted via Kaub.
Busy week done! Lots of work especially on Wednesday, and helping Vent d'Est organise their mah-jong tournament on Sunday to cap it off. We were on the boat in the foreground of this photo taken a few years ago - yep, still there today. A more flattering angle for the river, at a greener time of year, below.
I could go on about this thing for ages. There's so much history, so many symbols to spot, and so much information on display... This is going to be a long one.
I guess I'll start with the artistic aspect on which I have the least to say because it's the least up my alley. There's loads of mythology and Christian symbolism going on on this 18-metre tall monument, and these are the main draw for the general public, because they move around.
Like cuckoo clocks in neighbouring Schwarzwald, this astronomical clock has automatons. Every quarter hour, the lower level of the photo above sees a change of "age": a child, a young man, an adult and an old man take turns to be in the presence of Death, whose bells toll on the hour. At high noon, the upper level also moves, with the 12 disciples passing before Christ, and the rooster at the very top crows.
Moving on to what really makes me tick: the amount of information on this clock is incredible. The time, obviously, but actually two times are on display on the clock at the bottom of the picture above: solar time and official time. Given Strasbourg's position in the time zone, there is a 30-minute discrepancy between the two. Then there's all the astronomical stuff, like the phase of the Moon (just visible at the top), the position of the planets relative to the Sun (middle of the picture), a celestial globe at the base (pictures below, on the right)...
The main feature behind the celestial globe is another clock displaying solar time, with the position of the Sun and Moon (with phases) relative to the Earth, sunrise and sunset times, surrounded by a yearly calendar dial. These have remarkable features, such as the Moon hand that extends and retracts, making eclipses noticeable, and the calendar has a small dial that automatically turns to place the date of Easter at the start of each year. This sounds easy, but look up the definition of Easter and note that this clock is mechanical, no electronic calculating power involved! Either side of the base, the "Ecclesiastic Computer" and the "Solar and Lunar Equations" modules work the gears behind these features.
The accuracy of this clock and its ambition for durability are truly remarkable. Relative to modern atomic time, it would only need adjusting by 1 second every 160 years, and it correctly manages leap years (which is not as simple as "every 4 years"). It just needs winding up once a week.
Finally, the history. The monumental clock was built in the 16th century, and used the calendar dial above, now an exhibit in Strasbourg's city history museum. It slowly degraded until the mid-19th century, when Jean-Baptiste Schwilgué restored the base and upgraded the mechanisms. The "dartboard" on the old dial contained information like the date of Easter, whether it is a leap year, which day of the week the 1st January is... - all of which had to be calculated by hand before the dial was installed! - and was replaced by the Ecclesiastic Computer, which freed up the centre space for the big 24-hour clock, complete with Solar and Lunar Equations.
As you may have gathered, I am a massive fan of this clock. Of course, nowadays, all the imagery and information would easily fit into a smart watch, but a smart watch isn't 18 metres tall and powered by gravity and gears!
Work is starting to pile up on my end, so I have to make this a quick one.
This is Fort National, a building we saw in the post on MV Bretagne. It was built in the late 17th century by Vauban - one of many, many, many projects he designed for Louis XIV's grand plan to fortify the French border. It was called Fort Royal, a name which would stick for little more than a century, before the Revolution banished any mention of royalty. It became Fort Républicain, then Fort Impérial under Napoleon, and finally Fort National after Napoleon III's Empire was defeated by Prussia in 1870. This regular name changing was derided by a local nickname, "Fort Caméléon", but it also give a glimpse into France's political history.
The rock on which the fort sits, known as Îlette (the small island), has quite a sorry history. Before Vauban, it was apparently used as an execution ground by local lords, and during World War II, the occupying Nazis used it as a prison during Allied bombings - fully expecting the fort to be bombed.
Today, the fort is privately owned, but visits are allowed on occasions.
Like Hikone Sawayama, Nagahama Castle is not on the list of Japan's 100 Famous Castles, nor on the list of Japan's Next 100 Famous Castles. Like Hikone Sawayama, it was a pre-Edo period fort which was owned by clans which at some point landed on the wrong side of the unifiers of Japan. Little is left, and short posts mark where buildings would have been. It's a short climb from the base, and the view of Uchiura from this location is pretty good.
This part of Numazu, and the island in the middle of this shot, Awashima, is most famous for being featured in the anime Love Live! Sunshine!!, which I know nothing about but saw some hints of (train for another day). It's possible to see Mount Fuji from here on a good day. And... well, I could see some it...
It's a considerable distance from a train station, though there appears to be a bus stop at the base, but I was driven there by a friend so I don't know how frequent the buses are. We were also lucky to get on a quick boat tour out to Awashima and back, with the chance to see the castle from a the sea, against the hilly backdrop of Izu Peninsula.
Close to impressive Haut-Barr castle, a one-hour hike from Saverne, sit two more ruins. All of these castles were built around the same time, late 10th to early 11th century, but despite being so close, they weren't owned by the same people.
While Haut-Barr was under the control of the Bishop of Strasbourg, the two Geroldseck castles, the Petit and the Grand, were built by the Geroldseck family, in charge of protecting the lands of the Abbey of Marmoutier. At the time, Alsace was part of the Holy Roman Empire and divided into many largely independent pieces, so these castles facing each other were on a border of sorts. However, the male Geroldseck line went extinct at the end of the 12th century, and the land was co-owned by so many people that no-one was maintaining the castle. The last stand came in 1471, when a group of disgruntled knights used it as their base. The Imperial bailiff laid siege, won and the castle was left as a ruin after that.
While Haut-Barr castle gets a lot of visitors, owing to the possibility of driving there, the Grand Geroldseck is worth the extra walk and brief climb from its neighbour. As well as the dungeon, lots of walls and rooms are still present, making it an interesting place to explore. The remaining walls continue to receive restoration work - there seem to be a few differences between my first visit with @teamroquette and my second this summer, for example, I don't remember seeing the little garden a few years ago.
All that's left to say is: "OI YOU!... YES, YOU! Have a good time."
Just on the French side of the border, Wissembourg station sees French TERs arriving from Haguenau and Strasbourg, meeting German Regionalbahn from Landau and Neustadt. When a French service doesn't cross the border itself, SNCF and DB services are often synced up, giving us the chance to see both companies' cross-border efforts side by side.
The B 85500 is a brand-new bi-mode (electric and Diesel) multiple unit from the Alstom Régiolis family. While not the first international Régiolis - a tri-voltage electric version runs between Évian and Geneva -, the B 85500 adds autonomous Diesel power. With 30 units on order, it aims to revive and/or intensify cross-border routes into Germany. I was under the impression there was a bit of a gathering at the front end of the train, maybe local politicians marking the type's first visit to Wissembourg?
On the German side meanwhile, we have a standard railcar for what DB regard as a relatively low-density non-electrified regional route, which was closed to passengers for over 20 years between 1975 and 1997. The BR 628/928 (628: power car, 928: trailer car) is a 1980s design. Besides the lack of low floor, there's not a lot wrong with them, and they have comfortable, current DB Regio interiors. More recent types have been used, and if a plan to electrify Landau and Winden stations to allow charging of battery-EMUs goes ahead, there could soon be the latest trains on the German side of Wissembourg station too.
Which brings us to our "I beg your pardon" of the week:
To end the "Canal Contraptions" mini-series, here's a brief look at the Keage Incline on the Lake Biwa canal in Kyoto. Located near Nanzen-ji and its famous aqueducts, it's apparently a popular sakura spot, not that I'd know visiting in July...
Boats were loaded onto wagons at one end of the slope, and hauled by an electric engine up or down before being unloaded back into the water at the other end. Thinking about it just now it sounded rather ludicrous to me, but I was picturing long European-style barges, but the boats of Meiji period Japan were probably not that big, as a picture of the surviving wagon shows.
We didn't go down to the incline, it was just something the friends I was travelling with that day brought up between Nanzen-ji and our next destination. Something to go back for...
C'est avec grand plaisir que je présenterai le mardi 16 avril à la Maison Universitaire France-Japon de Strasbourg une conférence sur la géométrie pendant la période d'Edo, avec en support le sangaku de Kashihara. Entre grande Histoire et petits calculs. Lien vers les détails 4月16日(火)、ストラスブール市の日仏大学会館に江戸時代の算額についてコンファレンスをします。楽しみにしています! Looking forward to giving a conference on Edo-period geometry on 16 April at Strasbourg's French-Japanese Institute. Expect a few posts about Kashihara around then. Has it really been 6 years?...
Landscapes, travel, memories... with extra info.Nerdier than the Instagram with the same username.60x Pedantle Gold medallistEnglish / Français / 下手の日本語
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