After three excellent but soggy days we left Oberkirch in
bright hot sunshine as the aire cleared to make way for the town’s annual Wine
Fest. Workmen strung up coloured lights in the trees overhead as we carried out
our usual routine of services getting Bertha ready for the road.
The sunshine had bought everyone out onto the A5 it
seemed and a short journey took a long time in heavily congested traffic. We
were glad to arrive at our campsite in Simonswald, further south in the forest
and chosen on the basis of its name!
 |
| Spot Bertha in Simonswald Valley |
After a cheerful welcome from the owner we strolled down
into the pretty village and found market stalls set up selling vegetables and
meat. Before shopping we climbed up a track behind the local church to get a
bird’s eye view of the village and spot Bertha in the hot sunshine.
 |
| Chef relaxing after cooking a feast |
Back on the
pitch it was time to break out the ‘cadac’ – the trusty gas bbq – and solicit
interested stares from other campers. Admittedly it was a little early to eat
dinner but the sun was hot and the early evening inviting.
By the time we were
washing and packing up several other bbq’s were being lit and the summertime
feel of a campsite was in the balmy air.
We spent the next couple of days exploring the valley. A
memorable hike saw us take the local bus service high up in the forested hills
from where we tramped down alongside a boulder-strewn and fast-flowing stream
that cascaded in places like a waterfall.
 |
| Climbing up through the forest |
Finally at the top we
drank fresh water from the fountain that was outside a welcome guest house, although
unfortunately ‘geschlossen’ or closed today.
 |
| Filling up at the fountain |
 |
| The steep descent |
The steep descent was even more challenging that the
climb. The path disappeared in places to pitch us down rocky slopes littered
with broken branches, slippery stones and exposed tree roots.
In places we were
precariously picking our way down the sheer slope of the mountain with nothing
to hold on to for balance, and with vertigo-inducing views of the drop just
inches from our boots.
 |
| View from a welcome bench |
Finally back on an asphalt road with aching legs and sore
knees we waited in bright hot sunshine for a packed and sweaty bus to return us
the final few kms. Regaling Rudolph the campsite owner with our ramblers’ tale
he rewarded us with a glass of local Weiss beer and conversation about village
life.
In the next few weeks the herdsmen would bring down the cows from the
high pastures and they would process in flowered headdresses through the
village to its festival field. Rudolf told us that everyone, old and young,
would celebrate in a huge tent filled with benches for eating at together, and
of course drinking. The cows would be in the field around the tent and be part
of the festivities. What a delight!
 |
| Looking across to festival field |
