Down the Rhine from Switzerland to the Netherlands
Through Xander Brett, Travel editor
The Croft Magazine // It’s a long journey from the Alps to the plains on both sides of the Rhine.
The Rhine is Europe’s lifeline. From Switzerland, it touches Austria, then travels through France and Germany, circling the corner of Belgium and Luxembourg, before spitting chaotically onto the plains of the Netherlands. A simple but historically unique path that begins in the heights of the Alps, on Lake Tomas in Switzerland. I always found it ironic that the most European country is not in the European Union. Switzerland speaks French, German and Italian, drives right and likes wine, cheese, skiing and money. Nevertheless, it remains outside the monetary and customs union: the sharing of a cultural, but not political, heritage.
But for this reason I feel it is appropriate that the river’s journey begins here. It drives downhill along the Swiss-Austrian border, flies over the point of Liechtenstein and then flows into Lake Constance, where it eats up the political union of Germany and Austria and turns left to the Swiss-German border. I love Switzerland with its clean streets, cuckoo clocks and cowbells, while in 2018 I can marvel at the Riviera in Ticino on a trip to the Italian lakes. And beyond Lake Constance, on the other side of Switzerland, Vienna is one of the most beautiful capitals of Europe: the insignia of a secluded empire, surrounded by the wonderfully imaginative national road: the Ringstrasse.
Anyway, intrigue from The third man aside, it’s back to the river. And the Rhine is to serve as a border four times: between Switzerland and Austria, Switzerland and Liechtenstein, Switzerland and Germany and France and Germany. The most important thing, of course, is the Franco-German border, which separates two massive egos. In recent years I have visited this region many times: both Alsace-Lorraine and Baden-Württemberg. This is the rift between Europe’s two great superpowers, and although one step on either side immediately means a different language and customs (many on the French side eat and speak German, no one on the German side eats or speaks French), nowhere else on the Continent makes you feel more European. I never understood why Strasbourg is the second capital of Europe, not the first. This is certainly the ideal place for an army of bureaucrats who rule a union with a currency and hopefully an army soon.
Europe is characterized by its “clusters within a cluster”, with a Nordic Union, a Baltic Entente and here the Benelux Agreement. It united Belgium and the Netherlands and gave Luxembourg an identity that clung to the Netherlands rather than aligning itself with the larger powers whose languages they speak. Here, French is the language of street signs and trade, Luxembourgish is the language of politics and the home, and German is the language of education. I was amazed to find in the newsagents in Luxembourg City that the newspapers are trilingual and that, unlike in Belgium, there is no linguistic geographical separation. Nowhere in Europe is this geographical linguistic gap more noticeable than in Belgium, where only the island of Brussels is bilingual.
When I visit Belgium, I am always surprised that the rigid “two nations” approach, in which Belgian unity is bound only by a monarchy and a prime minister, means that nobody speaks French in Flanders and nobody speaks Dutch in Wallonia . But the Rhine sensibly bypasses both regions, so let’s jump straight up to the Netherlands: the wonderful land of windmills, tulips and blonde girls with gaps between teeth. I love the cuteness of Amsterdam (despite its sassy reputation), and it is here in the Netherlands that the Rhine ends its journey. The river divides at Fort Pannerden: the Nederrijn runs via Arnhem and the Waal via Dordrecht, both of which converge again in Rotterdam to flow into the North Sea. Unfortunately, his European references are unable to make the journey to us
Featured image: Epigram / Xander Brett