The Hotel Domstern is simple but clean, with friendly staff (although everyone we have met so far in Germany is friendly – we are greeted with cheery “hallo!”‘s everywhere we go!) and caters a decent breakfast. We wolf down some more delicious European yoghurt – this time the iconic German flavour, kirsche (cherry). To accompany it, plenty of bread, meat and cheese of course. We have a big day ahead – he will need a proper feed!
We set off to the Nurburgring so that he can play out every boy’s life-long dream to race around the legendary Green Hell. He’s been drilling himself for years on each corner, every dip and bump and ripple on the Playstation and the Xbox, lap after lap imprinted in his memory. Now, a mere hour’s drive from track, he has a grin to rival Heath Ledger’s Joker plastered across his face.
The entire district between Köln (Cologne) and Nürburg is littered with signposts to mark the way for all those hopeful enthusiasts. The anticipation and our excitement builds with each successive marker. The scenery is, without any exaggeration or bias, simply breathtaking. Our road a small strip of licorice, scything its way through the lush green meadows and forests of Rhineland Germany. The kind of landscape where you expect to see the Family Von Trappe around the next corner hanging from the trees in their play clothes.
Despite the signage, we somehow end up at the Official Grand Prix Circuit, instead of the Nordschliefe. The guard looks at us as if we’re utterly crazy when we ask where to buy tickets for a “drive” around it, but ushers us through when he hears we’ve come all the way from Australia – he has relatives in Brisbane.
“No, it is closed… They are preparing for a race… but ok, go quickly, you can go both have a look, don’t tell anyone I let you though ok?”
He cheekily smiles and waves us through.
Disappointed although grateful (we did do our homework and there was definitely a public session today) we walk up to the “track” through a service tunnel that also acts as a hall of fame. All the greats from Fangio to Senna are plastered on the wall, and only when we get to the other end does he realise where we actually are. “OH.”
I have a feeling it was incredibly generous of the guard to let us walk up to the official track before a big event. The German round of the Moto GP has rolled into town and will take place in a couple of days – and yet he granted us access to this holy ground.
We slowly glance the GP circuit in all its glory… WOW. After a few minutes, over our right shoulders we hear some noise – just up on the ridge? We both slowly twist our bodies around as if in a trance; one Porsche, two Porsche, three Porsche… what? The other track is open to the public! We both look at each other as if we just won first prize at the RSL and the meat tray is ours. We always knew you couldn’t “drive” the GP circuit, we were after the Nordschliefe. And as amazing as it might be to drive the GP circuit, this was never the intention. (Another time perhaps?)
When we do eventually arrive at the track, there is no doubt we are in the right place. He’s hit jackpot, and we’re not even on the road yet. The yard is choc-a-bloc with super cars; BMW, Mercedes, Porsche after Porsche after Porsche. Carrera GT, GT3, GT2… (you’ll hear more about these later). Even I’m a little excited – the buzz in the air is contagious. We park amongst the exotics; our Golf TDI holding its head up proudly as if to say, “we come completely unprepared – all-season cheese-cutter tyres included – but we will battle by your side”.
…Like bringing a spoon to a gun fight.
I manage to pry him away from the all the eye-candy and get him into the car again. It’s a weekday so there is only a slot of a few hours that the track is open for. (Make sure you read up on public opening hours before you go! We were unable to use the BMW Ring Taxi tickets I had bought for him as they’re only available on weekends. These two links will help you: The Australian Nurburgring Website and Nurburgring for Dummies)
We line up in the queue, scan our tickets, and off we go…
We are overtaken by the big leaguers going twice our speed, but that doesn’t worry him – binning one of Europcar’s hire cars isn’t big on our priority list. He handles the vehicle with expertise, taking each corner with the smooth perfection that only comes from practice. We dip into the carousel and come flying out the other end, the sheer thrill of it erupting from him in laughter, a long time dream fulfilled. Our little Golf hugs the track as best it can, we take it as close to the limit as we are prepared to go, skirting around the sharp hairpin of the Dunlop-Kehre with such expertise I can only attribute it to too many sessions of Gran Turismo.
Each lap took about 10 minutes – but the smile on his face lasted much longer!
Hearts still pounding, we leave Nürburg behind and vow to return one day, armed with an arsenal of supercars and accommodation in the nearby village.
We stop for a bite to eat on the way back – a German street food called Currywurst, consisting of frankfurter, curry powder, tomato sauce, hot chips and of course, mayonnaise. Delicious the first time… but the novelty wears off pretty quickly.
We head back to Köln for the evening – and towards the infamous “Dom”, or cathedral. It has been on my bucket list for five years, so needless to say I am as excited as he was this morning! It is also the biggest church in the world – as you can see from the pictures below.
The first is photo of my husband; the man in black at the center of the doorway. (The cathedral was so large I couldn’t fit the whole thing in frame, even as far back as I was standing.)
Compare it to the postcard below. Note the size of the same doorway, and how much higher the building goes from there.
It may not be big in terms of modern-day skyscrapers, but for a structure that was built over 700 years ago it sure is impressive!!
Walking inside, it seems the gargantuan cathedral is fit for kings rather than priests. The hallowed halls are filled with neck-craning awe… Mass has just ended, and there is a sacred silence in the air. Robed priests hush and scold brackish tourists with flashy cameras as we light votive candles in memory of our past grandparents. There are rows upon rows of them, fluttering tea lights blushing under the gaze of a brilliant Madonna.
We take a seat to soak in the ambiance until closing. It is enchanting; the ceilings which reach into an endless night time sky, painted windows and stone buttresses that hug the walls in splendor.
I can’t imagine there being a prettier church in existence.
On the way back to our hotel – our last night in this little city – we overhear the international anthem, “Girls Just Wanna To Have Fun” coming from a nearby shop. A passing woman stops to hum along with it.
Yep, I’ve had a pretty darn good day. 🙂
Enjoyed this post? Read the next post from this series: “A Honeymooner’s Guide to six weeks in Europe” now!
