Almost 20 years ago we visited Köln in the height of summer and afterwards suffered from heat stroke. This time the weather was a little kinder. Köln is literally a skip and a hop from Dusseldorf, only 35 minutes on the train and even faster on the ICE (Inter City Express).
As the train pulled into the Hauptbahnhof, one can see a sea of love padlocks along the railings of the Hohenzollernbrücke Bridge facing the River Rhine. There are literally thousands of them, glittering in the sunshine, attracting hordes of tourists who were posing in front of these objects. The presence of these little objects are not without controversy: Deutsche Bahn, the bridge's operator, had threatened to have the locks removed, but in the end relented in the face of public opposition. Here, a Regional train was captured hurtling towards the main station.
It had not occurred to me until I arrived at Köln, or Cologne, that the once famous brand of eau de cologne - 4711 - is "water from Cologne". At Cologne's Central Station, the 4711 advertisement dominates the station's western facade and has done so for several decades. I don't remember where I last saw 4711 being sold.
My first encounter with such a gravity defying trick was in the Dusseldorf city centre, along Konigsallee. Here in Köln, at the square next to the Cathedral, two white guys whose face had been painted brown to resemble Indians, had added a new dimension to the trick. Instead of a lonely mystic perching on thin air, the accomplice was hoisting the entire weight of a man on a stick. The jaded tourists who had seen one too many of such tricks just walked on, whilst the novices were busy taking pictures. It is not without irony that the trick was performed in front of a famous French label, where Chinese tourists were busy stocking up.
It was a Saturday, and Köln was bursting with tourists. Adding to the hustle and bustle was the unmistakable beat of the West Indian steel drum. The performer was wearing a rastacap no less - a tall, round, brightly coloured crocheted hat - perhaps used to tuck away the dreadlocks. The beat was good, the music was enjoyable, but no one, not even the young ones, was dancing to the music. What a pity.
To get away from the crowd, we visited Agnesviertel, a traditional neighbourhood just a stone throw from the Cathedral. We came upon this boulangerie cum cafe, selling French bread and pastries, as well as offering a relaxed atmosphere for friends and families to have breakfast or a snack, all presided over by an unusually chatty and friendly garçon.
Between the North City Gate (Eigelsteintorbourg) in the Agnesviertel and the railway arch just beneath the Central Station is an area dominated by shops selling exotic merchandise: big bold gold jewelry and voluminous bridal dresses in flamboyant pinks, greens and blues (thankfully not on the same dress). These are statement dresses, brash, loud, and dazzling - quite a change from the sleek white affair favoured by the majority of western brides. This pink taffeta dress is demure in comparison to the other bling bling gowns, but the gold threads on the groom's outfit make no such concession.
The magnificent forest of the Gothic spires of the Cologne Cathedral dominate the skyline of Köln. It is nothing short of a miracle that, although badly damaged, Cologne Cathedral survived the Second World War in spite of extensive bombing. It comes as no surprise that stonemasons, glaziers, roofers and other specialists are constantly at work on the maintenance and restoration of the fabric of the building.
As the train pulled into the Hauptbahnhof, one can see a sea of love padlocks along the railings of the Hohenzollernbrücke Bridge facing the River Rhine. There are literally thousands of them, glittering in the sunshine, attracting hordes of tourists who were posing in front of these objects. The presence of these little objects are not without controversy: Deutsche Bahn, the bridge's operator, had threatened to have the locks removed, but in the end relented in the face of public opposition. Here, a Regional train was captured hurtling towards the main station.
My first encounter with such a gravity defying trick was in the Dusseldorf city centre, along Konigsallee. Here in Köln, at the square next to the Cathedral, two white guys whose face had been painted brown to resemble Indians, had added a new dimension to the trick. Instead of a lonely mystic perching on thin air, the accomplice was hoisting the entire weight of a man on a stick. The jaded tourists who had seen one too many of such tricks just walked on, whilst the novices were busy taking pictures. It is not without irony that the trick was performed in front of a famous French label, where Chinese tourists were busy stocking up.
It was a Saturday, and Köln was bursting with tourists. Adding to the hustle and bustle was the unmistakable beat of the West Indian steel drum. The performer was wearing a rastacap no less - a tall, round, brightly coloured crocheted hat - perhaps used to tuck away the dreadlocks. The beat was good, the music was enjoyable, but no one, not even the young ones, was dancing to the music. What a pity.
To get away from the crowd, we visited Agnesviertel, a traditional neighbourhood just a stone throw from the Cathedral. We came upon this boulangerie cum cafe, selling French bread and pastries, as well as offering a relaxed atmosphere for friends and families to have breakfast or a snack, all presided over by an unusually chatty and friendly garçon.
Between the North City Gate (Eigelsteintorbourg) in the Agnesviertel and the railway arch just beneath the Central Station is an area dominated by shops selling exotic merchandise: big bold gold jewelry and voluminous bridal dresses in flamboyant pinks, greens and blues (thankfully not on the same dress). These are statement dresses, brash, loud, and dazzling - quite a change from the sleek white affair favoured by the majority of western brides. This pink taffeta dress is demure in comparison to the other bling bling gowns, but the gold threads on the groom's outfit make no such concession.
The magnificent forest of the Gothic spires of the Cologne Cathedral dominate the skyline of Köln. It is nothing short of a miracle that, although badly damaged, Cologne Cathedral survived the Second World War in spite of extensive bombing. It comes as no surprise that stonemasons, glaziers, roofers and other specialists are constantly at work on the maintenance and restoration of the fabric of the building.