As far as Germanic cities go Cologne (or Köln in German) has the distinction of being both one of the oldest Germanic cities and one of the newest. The city was originally founded by the Romans in 50 AD as Colonia and it became the capital of the region known as Germania Inferior and the most important trading city north of the Alps.
In the middle ages its strategic trade route location allowed those in control of the city to exert influence and it was made a Free Imperial City of the Holy Roman Empire in 1475. The surge of wealth and power into Cologne thereby translated into a beautiful city- a flourishing mix of Roman and medieval architectural influences. Then, as with many German cities, Cologne was targeted in Allied bombing raids during the spring of 1942. The raids wiped out nearly 95% of the old city center and drastically reduced the city's population.
Thankfully for Cologne residents, their most prized structure, the Cologne Cathedral (or Dom) survived the bombings. The rest of Cologne was rebuilt albeit not in the medieval style, but rather in contemporary styling. The result is a modern city with a vibrant culture, especially in the way of art and music, however, when you ask the people of Cologne what you definitely need to see the answer is always the same: the Cathedral.
And, yes I admit, it's a grand structure. And climbing to the top for a view of Cologne is the "must do" tourist experience. But surely there has to be more to this city than just the Cathedral right? Despite any information to the contrary, I set out to see for myself. My first impression of the city quite literally jumped out at me as I was crossing the street- a wandering juggler waited for the green walk signal and then began his show right in the middle of the crosswalk!
Sadly he was killed by a Volkswagon shortly thereafter. But within a few minutes of fleeing the scene, Cologne's next impression presented itself even more forcefully. As I was walking down the street to one of the remaining medieval gates I noticed this sign in a window.
But I do! Ah! Finally somewhere that agrees with what I've been saying to everyone else in Europe for the past 8 months! Ha, kidding. But within my first hours in Cologne I've deduced two things: (1) they love English; and (2) the preferred method of attempting suicide is street juggling. This is my kind of city. I did eventually find the old medieval gate, the Hanentor gate, which now stands in the middle of a square. So it's probably more of an "arch" than a "gate" but why split hairs?
Nearby you can also locate the remnants of a portion of the old Roman wall. If you read the York post, this should look strikingly familiar. Seeing all of these Roman ruins in such uniformity all across Europe really brings to life the grand scale of Roman impact during the days of the Empire.
Walking along one of the pedestrian modern looking shopping streets I spotted a familiar site in Germany: the remnants of a bombed out church. This one has the structure more or less intact, however, they have elected to forgo rebuilding it opting instead for leaving it as a memorial. It's a bit of a chilling monument, literally a stone's throw away from a McDonald's.
By this point I'd wandered around through nearly every pedestrian street (and believe me they're not worth posting a picture) so I figured, what the hell, let's climb that tower. About 3/4 of the way up I discovered that one of (or possibly both of) the following is true: (1) the top of the tower is REALLY high up; and/or (2) after 7 months with no consistent exercise and a diet of foreign relatively unhealthy food and a near-constant stream of booze, I am woefully out of shape.
Horrifically, I was not among those huffing and puffing the most- and I can honestly say that given my experiences on the road these months I most certainly should have been. But I made it, sweaty and all. And true to all the hype the view from up there was fantastic... only, since you're IN the one really essential thing to see in Cologne there isn't much else to look at. This was probably the best shot I got- right through the mid-morning haze.
So after you've had your fill of the paltry Cologne skyline you'll then come to the same realization I did- son of a bitch, now I've got to walk all the way back down those stairs! Actually it wasn't that bad- the most annoying thing was the slow pokes in front of me. Seriously people, shake a leg! I've got more boring streets to wander around in, and the downstairs is the easy part!
At the bottom I figured that since I paid to go to the top, I might as well give the interior a shake as well. I'll admit, it's an impressive edifice. But at this point you, dear reader, must be burned out on reading about and seeing pictures of churches. You can only imagine how woefully tiresome I find them, ha. But here you go anyway... actually, you know what? Screw that. Instead of the whole inside, here is a cool picture of sunlight coming through a window and striking an altar.
God, is that you? Oh, light particles ejected from a nuclear fusion reaction taking place millions of miles away, I'm sorry I didn't recognize you. Never mind. One really cool thing about this church- they actually had a painting of Santa Claus. REALLY! Look on the left.
Outside the Cathedral I was distraught. It's barely noon and already I've taken a picture of the Cathedral, climbed the tower of the Cathedral, and gone INSIDE the Cathedral. What the hell am I supposed to do with the rest of the day? I was on the verge of throwing myself in front of a train at the nearby Hauptbahnhof when the enchanting chords of a familiar melody struck my ears. I spun about looking for the source of this momentary elation and when I had located it I thought surely my eyes were deceiving me- but no!
Behold- a midget/dwarf/little person (not sure what the PC term is these days) playing "Under Pressure" on a flute with chimes on his ankles that jingled as he stomped his little feet. I was overjoyed. I can tell you with absolute honesty dear reader that I sat and wept tears of happiness and gumdrops and puppies. It was magical.
A few minutes later he started playing a U2 track so I ran over and dropkicked him in the chest which sort of ruined the mood. I gave him the rest of my Bosnian lek and made my way across the square and behind the Cathedral where I came to discover that the priests in Cologne must love drinking. Because only drunks would feel the need to throw up a fence here:
Even our little musical friend with the broken sternum could clear that barrier. Laughing at the silliness and futility of the people of Cologne restored my spirits sufficiently to continue my walk. And I must say, I'm glad I did because my next stop was the Hohenzollenbruke, or as I like to call it, the "Bridge of Broken Hearts and Wasted Locks."
The name should be self explanatory, but since my international readership is on the rise, allow me a brief explanation. Young lovers travel to this bridge and attach a lock with their initials to the metal grating alongside the bridge. They then toss the key into the frigid deathly waters below to symbolize the permanency of their love. Only these are young lovers and, according to the Bureau of Statistics I Just Made Up, 93.7% of all such relationships end in disaster (although not all in train or bridge related disasters).
Ergo, you saucy minxes, the name I've christened. Every now and then you'll come across a combination lock- an idea I absolutely love. Instead of "we're lovers for life!" it's more like "we're going to give this an honest try." Practical. There was also one really cool lock in the shape of a turtle. Does that mean they are taking things slow? Or that slow and steady wins the race? Or that they just love turtles? Or maybe they hate them which is why they chose to leave that lock? I'm confused.
By the time I had finished thinking about the turtle lock I had walked across the bridge and back and was standing in a park staring up at the tail-end of the Dom, not to be confused with staring at the tail-end of a man named Dom, which I continue to steadfastly deny.
Nearby you can also locate the remnants of a portion of the old Roman wall. If you read the York post, this should look strikingly familiar. Seeing all of these Roman ruins in such uniformity all across Europe really brings to life the grand scale of Roman impact during the days of the Empire.
Walking along one of the pedestrian modern looking shopping streets I spotted a familiar site in Germany: the remnants of a bombed out church. This one has the structure more or less intact, however, they have elected to forgo rebuilding it opting instead for leaving it as a memorial. It's a bit of a chilling monument, literally a stone's throw away from a McDonald's.
By this point I'd wandered around through nearly every pedestrian street (and believe me they're not worth posting a picture) so I figured, what the hell, let's climb that tower. About 3/4 of the way up I discovered that one of (or possibly both of) the following is true: (1) the top of the tower is REALLY high up; and/or (2) after 7 months with no consistent exercise and a diet of foreign relatively unhealthy food and a near-constant stream of booze, I am woefully out of shape.
Horrifically, I was not among those huffing and puffing the most- and I can honestly say that given my experiences on the road these months I most certainly should have been. But I made it, sweaty and all. And true to all the hype the view from up there was fantastic... only, since you're IN the one really essential thing to see in Cologne there isn't much else to look at. This was probably the best shot I got- right through the mid-morning haze.
So after you've had your fill of the paltry Cologne skyline you'll then come to the same realization I did- son of a bitch, now I've got to walk all the way back down those stairs! Actually it wasn't that bad- the most annoying thing was the slow pokes in front of me. Seriously people, shake a leg! I've got more boring streets to wander around in, and the downstairs is the easy part!
At the bottom I figured that since I paid to go to the top, I might as well give the interior a shake as well. I'll admit, it's an impressive edifice. But at this point you, dear reader, must be burned out on reading about and seeing pictures of churches. You can only imagine how woefully tiresome I find them, ha. But here you go anyway... actually, you know what? Screw that. Instead of the whole inside, here is a cool picture of sunlight coming through a window and striking an altar.
God, is that you? Oh, light particles ejected from a nuclear fusion reaction taking place millions of miles away, I'm sorry I didn't recognize you. Never mind. One really cool thing about this church- they actually had a painting of Santa Claus. REALLY! Look on the left.
Outside the Cathedral I was distraught. It's barely noon and already I've taken a picture of the Cathedral, climbed the tower of the Cathedral, and gone INSIDE the Cathedral. What the hell am I supposed to do with the rest of the day? I was on the verge of throwing myself in front of a train at the nearby Hauptbahnhof when the enchanting chords of a familiar melody struck my ears. I spun about looking for the source of this momentary elation and when I had located it I thought surely my eyes were deceiving me- but no!
Behold- a midget/dwarf/little person (not sure what the PC term is these days) playing "Under Pressure" on a flute with chimes on his ankles that jingled as he stomped his little feet. I was overjoyed. I can tell you with absolute honesty dear reader that I sat and wept tears of happiness and gumdrops and puppies. It was magical.
A few minutes later he started playing a U2 track so I ran over and dropkicked him in the chest which sort of ruined the mood. I gave him the rest of my Bosnian lek and made my way across the square and behind the Cathedral where I came to discover that the priests in Cologne must love drinking. Because only drunks would feel the need to throw up a fence here:
Even our little musical friend with the broken sternum could clear that barrier. Laughing at the silliness and futility of the people of Cologne restored my spirits sufficiently to continue my walk. And I must say, I'm glad I did because my next stop was the Hohenzollenbruke, or as I like to call it, the "Bridge of Broken Hearts and Wasted Locks."
The name should be self explanatory, but since my international readership is on the rise, allow me a brief explanation. Young lovers travel to this bridge and attach a lock with their initials to the metal grating alongside the bridge. They then toss the key into the frigid deathly waters below to symbolize the permanency of their love. Only these are young lovers and, according to the Bureau of Statistics I Just Made Up, 93.7% of all such relationships end in disaster (although not all in train or bridge related disasters).
Ergo, you saucy minxes, the name I've christened. Every now and then you'll come across a combination lock- an idea I absolutely love. Instead of "we're lovers for life!" it's more like "we're going to give this an honest try." Practical. There was also one really cool lock in the shape of a turtle. Does that mean they are taking things slow? Or that slow and steady wins the race? Or that they just love turtles? Or maybe they hate them which is why they chose to leave that lock? I'm confused.
By the time I had finished thinking about the turtle lock I had walked across the bridge and back and was standing in a park staring up at the tail-end of the Dom, not to be confused with staring at the tail-end of a man named Dom, which I continue to steadfastly deny.
From here you can walk along the water and peek over at all of the overpriced tourist-trap restaurants jamming up the greenspace. According to my map I could follow this road more or less all the way to the south gate of the old city. But I hadn't gone more than a few hundred meters when I spotted something than devastated me more than having to end the life of a charming midget:
A Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf!... that's opening December 2012!!! Do you remember the scene in Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith when Darth Vader first awakens to learn Padme is dead? This is precisely what I did when I saw that sign.
Speaking of the south gate, I'd show it to you but I think you'd be less impressed than you will with the store I saw along the way. This is more directed to my female readers, however, to any of my male readers who have encountered this, I proffer the same. Have you ever felt you didn't have enough "donkadonk" in that badonkadonk? Well, you my dearest readers are the most fortunate of all because your humble Wanderlust host has uncovered... this!
I like these retail outlets big, and I cannot lie. Best yet, they were having a sale. Ok, ok. Here's something historic I guess: the towers of a former fortress near the last remnants of the old city wall. I thought it was pretty cool looking or whatever. "Is there also going to be a picture of the old city walls?" Pah! No. But you can check it out on flickr if you want.
Other than a park, narrowly avoiding a juggling suicide mishap, and a ham sandwich, that was pretty much my tour of Cologne. You see why everyone harps on the Cathedral so much? So, I already know the logical progression of this psychological-paranormal conversation we're having right now. This is when you say, "if Cologne was a one day affair, what the heck did you do for the other two days you were there?"
Damn you're persistent. But I like that about you. Well, a deep subject, the first day I more or less crashed. I was too worn out from Dresden, Berlin, and Hamburg to do much. And in case you hadn't noticed, I had been been doing more than my fair share of partying. I was saturated, I arrived late, I did nothing. That was day 1. Day 2 you just read about. And day 3... well, here's what happened to day 3:
There's a great track by Dirty Vegas about burning the candle at both ends which seems appropriate. I went out for drinks with new friend Harmony from the "Facebook Socializing Extravaganza" of the night before (i.e. we all sat in the same room on our computers/phones and messed about on the internet) as well as a cat from Maastricht whose name was frankly was a bit too irritating to remember, along with his person.
It was a bit of a dead night in the city (opposed to what I don't know), so we ended up just drinking. And the more we drank, the more Harmony and I became annoyed by this dude. Actually, annoyed isn't quite the right word but incensed is too strong. Anyway, we ended up at a bar where there was nothing going on (take your pick) so we started mucking about with a candle while he was rambling on and on until finally we had created a mess.
We decided to leave (before being kicked out) but the night was strong enough to limit my activities for the subsequent day. What I did accomplish: (1) watching 7-8 episodes of Mad Men; (2) 1 Wanderlust entry; (3) 3 cities worth of photos uploaded; (4) 2 naps; and (5) one OUTSTANDING pizza at a nearby joint that I went to simply because I was starving and it was close and open. Look at this, REAL basil. Unheard of in these desolate parts.
The next day I beat a hasty and early retreat to Dusseldorf for a day and a half at the recommendation of Niels. I knew I wouldn't have the gumption to hit the Dusseldorf nightlife as hard as it deserved but I figured it was worth poking my head in. Besides, as with many things, the most important part is just showing up.
Bonus photo: the view from my bed at the hostel (which is one of my top 3 or 5 hostels I've stayed at, and I'm becoming a serious expert on them).
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