Before we dash into France, we take the opportunity to stock up on German favourites – smallgoods feature heavily. Of course by the time that’s done, it’s lunch time – one could set a clock by Himself’s stomach. He herds me to the nearest restaurant where I have a mushroom filled crepe,
he the daily special, a pork steak with mushrooms. Autumn is starting to creep into menus.
Luckily, Breisach sits perched high above us, its fortifications winding up a steep hill. Just the climb needed to work lunch off.
Breisach holds an unusual honour, in that it was visited by a Roman Emperor in the year 346.
We enter through the Hagenbach Tower, the town’s prison in the 1300s and 1400s.
Perched on high is the cathedral, St Stephansmunster, which has an impressive collection of historic bells and an intricate limestone Gothic altar.
I’m not too sure what the bull in the courtyard is about though.
There are great views from the cathedral’s courtyard, over the Rhine, across town and over on the next hill, the ruins of a Roman castle. The site of the Roman Emperor’s visit perhaps?
We wander into town and explore for a while. It’s relatively modern, much of it having been destroyed in WWII.
Key historical structure have been rebuilt, including the Gutgesellentor Gate from the 1300s.
Meandering home mid-afternoon, we debate whether to move on to France or stay put for the rest of the day, putting our feet up. It takes little to convince us both that the latter’s the thing.
It’s a good plan too, until I open the storage unit to extract a chair and recall that I promised Himself that I’d reorganise it at some point. The next three or so hours are spent stripping out the boot and the underfloor storage, cleaning and reorganising to picky Virgo standards. It mightn’t be everyone’s idea of relaxation, but it works for me. Deeply satisfying to know it’s spotless and organised.
By day’s end it’s a very well deserved paws up and cocktails on call. I rouse myself only to chase a glorious sunset
and watch the Rhine roar through its levelling barrier. Fitting, given that Breisach’s name is of Celtic origin meaning “break water”.