The photos of Linz am Rhein online sealed the deal as a quick side trip in this Southeast Limburg-ish road trip of ours and having never set foot there, was one of the more exciting ones at that. After getting better sleep on our second night, we eschewed breakfast and left late enough so we could time our trip with a lunch in the town’s old center. Only it didn’t quite work out as we wanted.
As we got to town in search of parking, we completely missed the one located closest to the action, and ended up in an odd lot on a hill above the town, about a kilometer’s walk away. Not only was it farther, it was equally inconvenient having to walk down via the dirt hiking path, and for the silliest of reasons it proved almost deadly when I walked back up later in the day.
After descending to the edge of old town it was noticeable how most things weren’t kept in prime condition, a sign that the town may have seen better days. In search of a good place for lunch, with Covid surely not helping, we saw the old center was barely beating, with many storefronts closed or empty.
A bit disappointed with the restaurants in town and despite not having breakfast that morning, we decided to salve our empty stomachs with a stop at the only establishment that caught my eye. Set in a attractive building that exuded old world style, the Lohner’s food display did its job and drew us in with their selection of pastries several of which I wanted to try. I settled for the least deadly option, a slice of zitronenrolle that turned out to be brilliant – it was light with just the perfect amount of zest paired of with a decent cup of cappuccino. It was admittedly a strange option for lunch but which helped me think better of what we had seen of the town thus far.
After deciding there wasn’t much else to see it came time to head back up the hill where we parked, on the same dirt path we took going down. Naturally going up required exponentially more effort and in my goal to catch up with Teko decided to take an impromptu Super Mario shortcut up through what looked like an easy incline. What appeared as a 20 meter stretch turned out to be treacherous due to lack of any sneaker friction coupled with dry, loose ground. Halfway up I needed more support by grabbing exposed roots off the ground until even this didn’t work and almost instantly I felt like a desperate climber on Everest, looking up and then down, just waiting for the inevitable. Even with a few meters to go I was slipping constantly and had no logical way to go further but back down. Contemplating a sprained ankle (or two), my head smashed face first on the ground, or rolling down the hill like a free-falling boulder, I let go of the tree roots and prayed for a safe landing. Suffice it to say my ego was hurt, my humanity reckoned, and except for a thorn prick or two, my body unscathed.
If there’s anything I’ve learned from Linz am Rhein it’s to keep the faith and stay patient. Taking shortcuts in the woods can be injurious to one’s perceived capabilities.