It'll be fine...???

So there we were, last weekend, in the Rhineland among the grapevines in Germany.  Our hosts, the couple whose wedding we had come to celebrate, wanted very much to show us the area.  This was my first trip to Germany and they were anxious that I enjoy it enough to return someday.

So on Sunday afternoon, we set off in two cars, following one another to an area called Rudesheim.  After we exited the cars in the car park I looked up to see what I used to call as a child "or buckets" or a kind of cable car.  From where we stood it didn't look very high at all.  (Ah, but looks can be deceiving, I later found out.)

I commented to daughter #1, who was with us on this trip, that when I was little my parents had taken us to an amusement place called "Freedomland".  We rode in similar style buckets.  I recalled being confused when my mother urged us to look around at the view, while grasping the sides of the car tightly and staring at the floor.  "If it's so great, " I wondered, "why aren't you looking?"  I discovered the reason as a I grew older and found my mother and I had a real kinship where fear of heights were concerned.

To my surprise, as we walked down the street with our hosts, they let it be known that the plan was for us to ride in these suspended cars to the top of the mountain.  Seriously?  Was there an email about this? It was not on the agenda I had received.

Well, I decided, it would be plain rude to refuse to go up the mountain.  I also had a sneaking suspicion that the view would be spectacular and I would regret it always if I didn't search the depths of my soul for some courage and join in.

So daughter #1, a fellow heights sufferer, graciously offered to ride with me and hold my hand and do whatever she could to make it easier. I should point out that the Englishman also offered to ride with me but I thought I would feel freer to scream with my daughter! ( If you look closely at the picture above I think my hair had already started to turn white before we even set off!)

There we are, setting off, in car 46.  Now, in fairness, you can see that the car wasn't very big.  I was most grateful for the grab bars on either side of me which I made full use of. Wearing sunglasses hid the fact that my eyes were closed more than open during the journey.  My daughter's commentary as we rose higher and higher helped tremendously. Where she found all the courage I don't know, though she said trying to help me was in fact a help and distraction for her.  (On our return, we ended up again in car 46.  I took this as a direct sign from Heaven that I would survive the descent!)

As you can see the views were spectacular and well worth all the efforts of rising to the top.  There was a restaurant down a steep stairway, (why was I not surprised) where we ate a lovely meal, sampling the local offerings of meat and cheeses.

Our hosts then wanted us to see a magnificent monument sitting atop the peak of the mountain, in honor of Kaiser Wilhelm.  They were very disappointed as we climbed higher and higher to discover it was under construction. Completely.  Just a photo on the outside of the tarp gave an indication of what was hiding underneath.  I commented that it was nice to see that scaffolding on major sites was not unique to the US.  Seems every construction crew in the world works at the same pace.  That of a snail.

To be honest, these few photographs do not do justice to the truly breath-taking views I took in that day.  And the sense I pride I had in having ridden up and down in the cable car cannot be measured.  I am very grateful not to have given in to my fears and missed the experience.  It was worth every ounce of courage I could muster!