This is not a Christmas market

This is the church of the clanging bells in Rudesheim that wake me every morning. This morning when I heard them I thought I needed to go to a meeting, not a fire drill. Tomorrow I probably won't notice them.

After breakfast today, we set off for the ferry at Bingen, and then upriver again to Baccharach. The sun came out and the sky tuned bright blue. Bacharach is a beautiful small town with many shops and cafes, all closed on a Sunday, but we did find quaint cobbled streets and an outdoor cafe in a courtyard by the town hall. There we had gluhwein (me) and marbled cake (D) and bought a few little items. Later, I heard that there had been a craft fair inside the town hall, but, too bad, we missed it. The sun warmed us as we sat outside, and we enjoyed a stroll along the city walls, at the same height as the railway lines, with a view over the busy Rhine. Then we sat for a while down at river level, watching the container barges plying up and down, until the skies darkened and we made the short journey by coach back to Rudesheim. 

After a short rest and, for me, the final episode of the new Frasier series on Paramount Plus, we set off for our own town market.. D was entranced by the live music, so I took a stroll and almost got my foot amputated by a tourist train. The driver shook his fist and shouted at me. It was busy, and I wasn't feeling the love, so I went back to the square and found a lighted passage  opening on to a courtyard a little bit like Christmas fairyland. I went and fetched D, who had positioned himself outside a shop selling table linens, and we went and had gluhwein at a picnic bench. D can't stand upright for too long. Eventually we fought the crowds and walked down along the stalls that lined the road that fronts the river. After buying a cuckoo clock (!) D became tired, so we found a restaurant and dived in. 

Many hours later, we left. D had pasta and I had chicken schnitzel. My guts will never forgive me, but I was tired of weaving through crowds and warding off suggestions from D that I should eat six Nuremberg sausages and some dumplings, or share an enormous meal of six types of fish with him. However, the medium white Reslisling is very, very good. We managed only one glass each. Then we both had chocolate cake. Mine was accompanied by ice cream. I disagreed with D's suggestion of Suella/Cruella Braverman for next PM, but sadly we don't agree on much these days. I will help him get a deal.on insurance so that he can go back on a river cruise, but I certainly won't be going on any type of holiday with him that involves physical activity or more than the occasional nod in terms of communication. It's hard to imagine what holiday doesn't involve such things! 

Back we went through the square (the live music had finished) and I bought another lampshade and narrowly avoided buying some alpaca socks. Walked back to the hotel (50 metres) and since then I've been chatting online, packing and watching an English-language News programme. 

Regrettably, it's Suitcases as dawn tomorrow, but at least we are allowed another gigantic breakfast before we leave. In response to my sister TML's question, ' was your journey horrendous, and are the markets full of cheap imported tat that you could buy anywhere?' the answer is Yes to the first part, and No to the second. The real attractions for me have been the landscape of the Rhineland, the  Riesling wines, wandering around the charming towns of Boppard and Baccarach,, and of course the hotel breakfasts.