The Canal That Didn’t Quite Work (Except That It Did)
Spoiler alert: I’m already home, mildly jet-lagged, and trying to stop my mind from worrying about all the things I need to get done. So let me rewind and tell you about our last day in Germany.
Our boat officially left the Danube proper and entered the Danube–Main–Rhine Canal, an impressive feat of European engineering that quietly connects the Black Sea to the North Sea. Basically, we drifted onto the inland plumbing system of Europe.
We had an onboard talk by Daniel Gürtler, who was both wildly entertaining and refreshingly honest. He explained how the canal was built and why—and then casually mentioned that, as a cargo route, it’s… kind of a failure. Turns out not that much freight actually moves from the Danube to the Rhine. What wasn’t anticipated, however, was the explosion of river cruises, which has turned the canal into a huge success. There’s a reason all these ships are the same size—too wide and you’re stuck. It’s Europe, but make it Goldilocks.
We followed the canal into Nuremberg, where we did the official walking tour and then promptly went rogue on our own. Our guide was Irish, had been living in Germany for years, and once again proved that accents do not always match the visuals. She explained that much of the medieval walled city was destroyed during World War II and later reconstructed. As we climbed up into the castle, admiring a tower that clearly looked ancient, we optimistically said, “Well, that must have been rebuilt too.”
Nope. That was the one thing left standing. Apparently, it made a very handy landmark for the bombers—so they kept it. History is humbling like that.
The Christmas market here felt extra crowded and extra jolly. Bands played music that sounded exactly like a middle-school concert band thrilled to have a 40-minute time slot. People milled, mugs clinked, and yes—we got more punch. We’ve officially learned that we prefer the non-alcoholic punch, which somehow tastes better. Glühwein remains not our thing, but we did discover some spiced cookies so good we got back in line twice. No regrets.
Later, we wandered into a local brewhouse, ordered more sausages (shocking), German potato salad that was genuinely outstanding, and Brian and I toasted with a lovely Dunkel beer. At this point, it felt appropriate to fully embrace our role as professional Christmas-market eaters.
So yes, I absolutely ate my way through the Christmas markets. What joy.
The trip home was uneventful, which is the very best kind of international travel. No hiccups, no drama, no surprise sprints through airports. I read my book-club book, watched Napoleon, and the new Bridget Jones—a solid in-flight lineup.
Carmen and Freddie were, of course, ecstatic to see us when we got home. Now the only question is whether I can bring even a fraction of that Christmas magic into my own house… or at least finish cleaning up the dust and chaos from having the living-room windows replaced.
Both feel ambitious. 🎄✈️🐾