We returned to Peter Biroth on Thursday morning. He is at BA Automotive in Bieblesheim (www.bs-automobile.com) and as before, he was very helpful even though two mechanics were away. What’s really nice is that he didn’t push me out of the workshop; instead I got in the way and helped discuss the potential problems.
As I thought, they suggested changing the ball joints in the steering, well three of four. I could only feel play at one. I really don’t think that ‘Alex’ (not his real name) or Slavo could feel play at the other two but they wanted to fire new parts at them.
They did say that the hub bearings at the front right wheel might need changing because I’d had to adjust twice this year.
It looked as though nothing would get done until Monday. Friday is booked up and today is out, as two cars have the TÜV inspections and there’s the two guys off.
Maybe he took pity on us as he asked if we could get in for 08:00, to which we said yes but need to find a campsite. He then got on the phone to his freund and before we knew it he’d pointed to the open field of a back garden just a few doors up in the village. “Camp in there”. So we did and we set the alarm for 07:00 (still feels like 06:00 😩).
We spent the rest of the day back at the Rhine. This time at Bacharach. It’s old, half timbered and full of quirky bits to look at. There’s a classic view, looking down to the church, seen often in guides. Two features inside the church show an adulterous couple suffering the attention of serpents, the ultimate pain.
We used the loos in a quirky place that was dimly lit. This was what greeted us as we went into the dark hall.
We had a great lunch (dinner) and had fun watching the couple next to us try to eat the huge sausage they’d each ordered.
Barges and trains featured again, especially now we are in a town next to the track. There’s something a bit strange about walking ancient walls with trains passing right by you at five minute intervals.
Trains and 5,500T barges make this Rhine Valley corridor a transportation giant. Somehow it’s hard to reconcile the natural and ancient sites and buildings with this bustle of modern connected transport.
Back at Peter’s village, it is a nice place but it would be hard to live here. There are no services, no shop, no pub, no nothing. There is one restaurant but it is priced waaaay up above our comfort zone.
All around are vineyards. We wandered. There’s no fences. I couldn’t work out if it’s a good year or a terrible one. Some grapes looked ok and others had withered on the vine. Literally.
We saw a Sparrowhawk eating tea and got good views over the vines.
All was quiet that night except for the church bell. It was a simple clock chime for the half and full hour. I’m not sure just which chimes I missed in the night but I managed to hear quite a few.
The Friday morning mechanical stuff was done by about 12:30; I will gloss over the bill. The more I think about it the more I think I’ll try to forget it.
We are away towards the south but not before we give our good wishes to Peter, who’s got more repair work later this year on his facial bones, following his squamous cell carcinoma. I don’t know how anyone could manage as he does. Horrible doesn’t even begin to describe how it has developed, since we last saw him, or what needs to be done to give him a face back.
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