Around the Rhine
Day 3: Basel
Today we rode a train from Zürich to Basel, then joined our river cruise, sailing up the Rhine to Breisach, Germany
We took an early train for the one-hour ride from Zürich to Basel, whizzing through a mishmash of industrial sites, small towns, and misty Swiss countryside. Arriving at the Basel railway station – Europe’s busiest border station -- we grabbed a taxi to the cruise ship to drop off our luggage, then set out to explore the city.
Basel is bisected by the Rhine and borders both France and Germany to the north. Its strategic location and good relations with its neighbors led to Basel being the only canton to be invited to join the Swiss Confederation, which it did in 1501. Basel is not a city of many historical sites, but it is famous for its collection of internationally renowned museums and calls itself the Cultural Capital of Switzerland. Unfortunately, similar to our bad luck trying to find shopping on a Sunday in Zürich, we had arrived in Basel on a Monday, when all of those fine museums are closed.
We walked along the Rhine and soon filtered down into Marktplatz, the center of the old city. The oval plaza hosts a market every day of the week, with stalls and food trucks selling produce, baked goods, and local delicacies. Dominating the scene is the 500-year-old Rathaus (City Hall), an ornate building with a red-sandstone façade that is the seat of the the canton of Basel. It was built soon after Basel joined the Swiss Confederation and is decorated along its crenellations with the coats of arms of the other 11 cantons.
Just inside the front entryway is an attractive courtyard adorned with a statue of Lucius Munatius Plancus. Under Caesar, Plancus was Proconsul of Gallia Comata, a territory covering much of central and northern France, Belgium, and the western edge of Germany. In 44 B.C., he founded the city of Augusta Raurica near modern-day Basel, the first Roman colony on the Rhine.
When Caesar was assassinated that same year, Plancus plotted with both the conspiratorial senators and Caesar’s key supporter, Marc Antony, until it became clear that Antony would prevail. When Antony’s fortunes turned during an unsuccessful campaign in Parthia, Plancus aligned himself with Antony’s rival, Octavian, and suggested he take the title Augustus as the first emperor of the Roman Empire. So it is perhaps both as a regional leader and as a man known for switching allegiances frequently to ensure both his success and survival that Plancus’ statue stands at the center of political life in Basel.
We wandered through the streets west of Marktplatz in search of lunch, and found a pleasant spot for sandwiches in a hidden courtyard called Schmiedenhof-Platz, next to the public library. Afterwards, we continued poking through the city and its shops, which are geared more toward local inhabitants than to visiting tourists. We had plenty of time to kill before boarding our ship. The skies cleared, the sun grew a bit warmer, and the day felt open and leisurely.
We soon arrived at the other main landmark in the city, Basel Münster. Built between 1019 and 1500 on the hilltop site of a former Celtic fortified city, Basel Münster was a Catholic cathedral before being converted during the Protestant Reformation. On February 9, 1529, a few dozen armed men, inspired by the teachings of Huldrych Zwingli, stormed the church to destroy paintings, statues, and other representations of religious idolatry. The iconoclasts did minimal damage, but returned later in the day, now numbering about 200, and broke through the church gates. They toppled altars, destroyed statues, and brought down all crucifixes and portrayals of the saints and the Virgin Mary. The mob moved on to attack other churches throughout the city. The Reformation had arrived in Basel.
The red-sandstone church, with elements of Gothic and Romanesque architecture, feels like a soaring, stone cavern inside. It’s massive pillars frame a nave that is appropriately free of ornamentation, but colorful stained-glass windows along the aisles and at each end of the church bring some life to the scene — vibrant jewels set around a ring of simple stone.
We continued back to the center of town, stopping at Hotel Les Trois Rois, which dates back to at least 1681 and offers a fine view of the Rhine. The hotel provides a lovely afternoon tea service. At least, I assume it’s lovely — a group of ladies nearby seemed to be enjoying it — but we ordered cocktails. That was when I realized that I had left my phone somewhere along the way. Our lazy afternoon turned quickly into a moment of compressed adrenaline. I jogged briskly back through the city to Basel Münster, where I found the phone on the counter of the little gift kiosk inside the church. The two elderly attendants, chatting quietly, had been oblivious to its presence directly in front of them and let out a little “oh” as I grabbed it with a manic smile and darted back out to the hotel.
After drinks, we made our way to our ship, the AmaStella, and crossed the gangplank to check in for our river cruise.
Operated by AmaWaterways, the AmaStella is 443 feet long and just 38 feet wide, perfect for river cruising. It can hold a maximum of 156 passengers and 51 crew members. As you board the ship, you are met with a reception area that has the same type of grand, curved stairways that you see on larger cruise ships, but in miniature. Our friends were already aboard, and we chatted briefly before going to see our room — a comfortable space with a king bed and twin indoor-outdoor balconies.
While Marianne unpacked, I walked up to check out the sun deck, a long row of lounge chairs encircled by a walking track, plus a tiny heated pool and a giant chess board. At the bow of the ship was a secondary sun deck with comfy sofas. It was exciting to think about our upcoming week aboard the ship, relaxing in these chairs with a good book as central Europe floated by.
We got settled and went into the main lounge, where we caught up with our friends and waited for happy hour and the formal kickoff for the cruise. We were joined by Janet and a handful of others who were members of her wine club. Much of the talk was dominated by questions about our itinerary. Drought across Germany had made it impossible for several river cruises before ours to navigate the extent of the Rhine. Some cruise lines had shuttled their passengers into hotels, and there were complaints online about the experience. From what we could piece together, it seemed like we might not make it past Strasbourg, just the second stop on the tour.
At about 6 p.m., Pau — our Cruise Director from Spain — took to the microphone. He welcomed us, then introduced the staff. They emerged in small groups from a stairway beneath the lounge, like baseball players trotting out from from the dugout on Opening Day, and with similar fanfare. Then Pau got down to business, explaining the situation with the drought in a slow, sing-song style, with much repetition — the kind of delivery you would expect to give to the elderly or inebriated, i.e., cruise ship passengers. He could not give us any concrete details just yet, but he assured us we would have a fine journey no matter what happened.
Everyone filed downstairs to the restaurant. Our group had secured a large, private table away from the main dining room. The 12 of us packed in around the table and enjoyed a very nice first meal as Janet worked with the staff to plan the wine she would be serving throughout the trip.
The ship left the dock before 10 p.m., heading to our first port in Breisach, Germany. We stopped briefly to pick up a few late arrivals just north of Basel, then sailed on into the night.