A narrow old path, steep and lined with stacked flatstone, leads up to the old seat of the local bishopry, now thoughtfully transformed into a cafe where tired and thirsty travelers can take their ease.

I am still a spawning wreck under this fierce hayfever. My nose is a disgusting faucet, my eyes are ferret-red, I’m all a-quiver with clammy, sweaty chills.

But I persist. It’s breathtaking here in Bernkastel-Kues.


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