Latest Posts by merpmonde - Page 7

Back to the Arzviller-Henridorff lock ladder

I took my own advice and returned to Arzviller to walk the full section of closed canal. It turns out the upper part is less overgrown and more active than the lower end. I'd only gone from the bottom lock, n°17, up to lock n°14 (under the railway bridge) at the time.

Starting from the top, the house at lock n°2 is a crêperie restaurant, while lock n°4 is a gîte complete with a private fishing pier. I counted four lock houses with some form of art going (n°2, 10, 13 and 15). The other lock houses are more or less well-maintained residences. There are no houses standing at locks n°14 and 17.

The Vallée des Éclusiers, or Lock-keepers' Valley, is well worth the wander. The quickest is either to drive there or cycle from Lutzelbourg station. But more on the logistics tomorrow - for now, let's enjoy lock n°9, probably the most dramatic on the route.

200 km/h push-pull trains

While Germany has recent double-deck train carriages, the Dostos shown previously being built in the 2000s, and updated versions still being produced, France made its last carriages in the 1980s, including Corail cars for inter-city services. But their use was curtailed by the development of the high-speed network.

Some sets were given push-pull ability, with a driving cab at one end that can control the locomotive at the other - the lead car above being a renovated B5uxh: second-class seating, 5 compartments, air-conditioned, driving cab, disabled access. These have found a new lease of life in regional transport, especially in the East, as the straight and flat Alsace line from Strasbourg to Basel allows these 200 km/h-capable carriages to stretch their legs. The "TER 200" puts Strasbourg only 80 minutes from Switzerland (wink-wink-nudge-nudge for a future trip).

The usual motors for these sets are BB 26000 "Sybic" locomotives built in the 1990s, powerful enough to get them to their top speed. While not at top speed in this setting, probably running at 100 km/h on the slower line to the Lorraine region, they still feel like very big trains when they go by.

Other push-pull trains exist in Alsace, with smaller locos and carriages rejoining the fleet for the planned Réseau Express Métropolitain Européen. However, most passengers trains everywhere in France now are covered by multiple units, especially since bi-mode units like the Régiolis shown below, have appeared. These are capable of running on electric power or with a Diesel engine, making them as flexible as can be.

A few more odds and sods from Triberg. I'm not going to show much more because someone commented on a previous post saying that they will visit Triberg in June, so I'm not going to spoil everything for them, particularly regarding cuckoo clocks.

The Black Forest is well known for its cuckoo clocks, and Triberg is home to the most extreme: the largest, which is a possible stop on the Railway Adventure Trail we covered yesterday, and the smallest, which are housed in the Schwarzwald Museum. But there is also a "first biggest cuckoo clock"... in Schonach. This would be the first clock to be recognised as the biggest by the well-known record book, but it has since been overtaken by the one in Triberg.

It's closed on Mondays, so all I have is this photo from the main road between Triberg and Schonach - in which I've cropped out the clock on the left. The clock is on the old road between the two towns, which is much nicer and at times bucolic. Schonach has a ski jumping hill which I'd like to visit, but didn't manage to fit it in on my one-day trip.

Between the waterfalls and the first biggest cuckoo clock is the Bergsee, a tiny lake with a simple café-restaurant on its edge - decent food, calmer* and not as pricey as downtown Triberg. The lake served as an alternate venue for ice-skating competitions in the 1920s, when Berlin wasn't cold enough!

Schwarzwaldbahn Erlebnispfad

or the Black Forest Railway Adventure Trail!

The railway through Triberg climbs the hill opposite the waterfalls we covered yesterday, to get out of the Gutach valley and proceed to Villingen. But inclines are notoriously difficult for trains, as metal-on-metal contact yields little friction, so, like many other modes of transport, whether roads or even footpaths, the railway weaves its way up... but on a larger scale, as trains aren't as maneuverable!

The result is this loopy section between Hornberg and Sommerau, 11 km apart in a straight line, but the railway is 26 km long! It climbs 447 m at an average gradient of 1.7% (which, again, for a train, is hard work), and with over 30 tunnels to get through the irregular terrain. Today, an "Adventure Trail" complements the route opposite Triberg, providing hikers with amazing viewpoints and some chances to get close to the tracks.

Of course, this climb for hikers is far, far steeper! The route I took started with a strenuous 15% over 700 m. One would be very happy to find this bench after that climb - Liegewagen meaning "sleeper car"!

The trail has stations with information boards about various aspects of the railway, and, at the viewpoints, the timetable! Perhaps a bit of a downer is that there isn't a huge amount of traffic: just two DB Regio trains per hour (presumably the ones you came in on), one InterCity train at weekends, no high-speed ICEs, no freight. But the views more than make up for the low variety, and, at a decent pace, it is possible to be at a viewpoint for each passage and not miss one.

Most regional trains on this section of the Schwarzwaldbahn are push-pull sets with Dosto carriages - that's short for Doppelstockwagen, or double-deck. The end carriage seen above is a (deep breath)... DBpbzfa 766, each letter being short for some technical info allowing rail workers to know at a glance what they're dealing with: D is for double-deck, B second-class seating, p has air conditioned coach rooms (as opposed to compartments), b has wheelchair accessibility, z has a centralised electrical installation, f has a driving cab, and finally a means that the driver can operate the doors alone. 766 is the series number. These Dosto sets are usually driven by Baureihe 146 locomotives.

All in all, the Erlebnispfad can take up most of an afternoon (I completed the circuit in around 3 hours), it was a very satisfying walk and experience to be able to make the most of each vantage point. There are some other attractions along the route that I haven't mentioned - probably a short post tomorrow. For people who like hiking and trains, this trail at Triberg is worth doing!

Triberger Wasserfälle

In the heart of the Schwarzwald region of Southwestern Germany, we find the town of Triberg and its waterfalls. Following a fire in the early 19th century, the town was rebuilt with a high street that aligned with the falls. Here's how that works out today, from the opposite hill.

With the arrival of the railway, Triberg became a leisure hotspot. The falls were visited shortly after that opening of the railway by the ruler of the recently unified Germany, Kaiser Wilhelm I, for which a memorandum was carved into a rock. The writing is just legible:

"Zur Erinnerung an den Besuch der deutschen Kaiserfamilie am 30 September 1877"

In time, Triberg has become a renowned tourist destination for the falls of course, but also for all things related to Schwarzwald culture, such as typical costumes and music, cuckoo clocks and local food - Black Forest gateau of course, but also ham, which has a festival in the town next weekend. The entrance fee to the falls includes tickets to three of the town's museums and indoor attractions.

At a total of 163 m over 7 drops, the Triberg Waterfalls are among the tallest in Germany. Triberg advertises them as the tallest, and a review check reveals some heated argument about the claim. I'm letting Wikipedia settle the debate: the claim is not correct, and it's not even close - the Röthbachfall in Bavaria is 470 m tall. However, Triberg undoubtedly offers the tallest easily accessible waterfalls in Germany, and they are still very much worth the visit. They are in the same size range as Nachi Falls in Japan.

The falls have also been used by Triberg in the late 19th century to become pioneers of hydroelectricity. Power stations were built at the top and the bottom of the falls, and enabled Triberg to become the first town in Germany with electric street lamps.

For an extra euro at the gates to the waterfalls, you can buy a bag of peanuts to try to attract the squirrels. As such, squirrels might come close to you whether you have some or not. This one still moved a bit too quickly to get a good photo.

All in all, the falls make a very solid start to a day trip in Triberg in the mid- to late-morning, and there's plenty and a variety of things to see and fill the afternoon after that.

Golden Week has begun in Japan, and this quick succession of public holidays ends with Children's Day on 5 May. It's for this occasion that the koinobori, or carp streamers, are brought out. Here are some flying over Asuka-gawa in Kashihara during my visit in 2018, with Unebi-yama, at the base of which Kashihara-jingû is located, in the background below.

My part of France is also on school break. With my homework done, it's time to get out and about again for my own Golden Week!

Le moulin rouge du Moulin Rouge a perdu ses pales!

Was going to take a break from posting today, but we had a bit of breaking news out of Paris: the famous cabaret Moulin Rouge's red windmill has lost its sails! They fell off at around 2 in the morning apparently, cause unknown. No injuries.

Article France Bleu Paris

To end the "Canal Contraptions" mini-series, here's a brief look at the Keage Incline on the Lake Biwa canal in Kyoto. Located near Nanzen-ji and its famous aqueducts, it's apparently a popular sakura spot, not that I'd know visiting in July...

Boats were loaded onto wagons at one end of the slope, and hauled by an electric engine up or down before being unloaded back into the water at the other end. Thinking about it just now it sounded rather ludicrous to me, but I was picturing long European-style barges, but the boats of Meiji period Japan were probably not that big, as a picture of the surviving wagon shows.

We didn't go down to the incline, it was just something the friends I was travelling with that day brought up between Nanzen-ji and our next destination. Something to go back for...

The Montech water slope

At around the same time as the "Inclined Plane" of Saint-Louis-Arzviller, other types of boat lifts were being engineered in other places. One of these was the Montech water slope, situated in Southern France on the Canal Parallel to the Garonne (Canal Latéral à la Garonne), the canal from Toulouse to Bordeaux which most people would probably refer to as the Canal du Midi - a better-known term though strictly speaking, the Canal du Midi is only the section from Toulouse to the Mediterranean.

From what I can garner, the two-headed vehicle used on this slope is a conjoining of two Diesel railcars built by Soulé in the early 70s, running on tyres and featuring a daunting-looking shield. This shield would be lowered behind a boat, and the machine would travel up and down the slope, carrying along the boat and the water it bathed in!

However, the performance of this system is less impressive than the Inclined Plane. It bypasses 5 locks, and saves 45 minutes of travel time. That's not nothing, but if you arrived at an end and just missed the train, then going straight to the locks wasn't going to be much longer than waiting for the next one. Also, far more power is required to make this work (I'm reading 1000 hp motors, versus 125 hp for the Inclined Plane), and it's Diesel.

These photos were taken in late 2017, 8 years after the water slope closed. It was only serving leisure boats by then, and, as I've insinuated, it wasn't very economical to run. As far as I can tell, the 5 locks beside it never closed, and are in use today.

The slope and its tractor have since been renovated, and the site's current state can be seen in a Tim Traveller video published in 2021.

The abandoned Arzviller-Henridorff "lock ladder"

On my return to the Plan Incliné (previous post) in 2021, I added a walk along some of the section that the boat lift bypassed. The canal behind this door (lock n°17) has been closed and emptied, the tranquil flow replaced by an overgrown stream, but the paths along it have been maintained, and some sections added to improve the walking or cycling experience.

The lock houses, homes to the workers, are still standing, some used by artists as galleries and workshops.

The boat lift was created to bypass a system of 17 consecutive locks which took a whole day to traverse. I didn't go along the whole route to lock n°1 (I probably would have if Arzviller train station was still open), but beyond the "lock ladder" on the Western side is a 2 km canal tunnel, still in service today and a bit of a traffic jam, as it isn't wide enough for two boats to pass.

I probably should walk the whole route one day. As it's along a canal, it should be easy gradients, it's just the distance between Réding and Lutzelbourg train stations that needs to be covered. I think it'll be worth it, and a chance to see the entrances to the tunnels too.

Plan Incliné de Saint-Louis-Arzviller

This is going to be a rather long post as there is a lot to say about this thing! But the short version is: this is a boat lift.

Built in the 1960s, this "inclined plane" was designed to carry barges as part of the fluvial coal transportation industry. However, that trade declined pretty much during the edifice's construction, and today, it almost exclusively serves leisure boats. But if you're going to do a canal cruise, this thing gives it quite the difference!

Its function is that of a lock, taking boats from the lower water level to the higher level, or vice-versa, but it does this by technically being a lift or elevator. A caisson carries the boats and the water up and down, using counterweights to ease the travel.

In fact, the caisson will take on more or less water in order to be heavier or lighter than the counterweights. Though the total mass of the caisson and counterweights is enormous, the difference in mass between them isn't, so very little power is needed to get the system moving, and gravity does most of the work. Two relatively modest electric motors (centre of photo below, steps to the right for scale) start the movement and control the speed.

As such, the system uses comparatively little power, for impressive results. The boat lift was built to bypass a "ladder" of 17 locks which required a whole day to go through, while the travel time of the lift is just 4 minutes. The ride is seamless and very comfortable, effortless even, for reasons mentioned above but also because the effort is distributed across 5 times as many cables as physically required to hold everything together!

Water-tightness is also extremely important, not just for the caisson obviously, but also for the other doors, particularly the top door, which is holding back a whole length of canal. A serious incident in 2013 has led to further reinforcement of redundancies and the construction of an emergency dam closer to the lift in the event of major leaks.

With a lot of freight traffic in mind, the structure was actually designed for two caissons, side-by-side, as evidenced by a second gate hole visible at the top of the ramp (4th picture), and extra space at the bottom, visible in the final picture below. Doubling the caissons would have meant doubling the counterweights, and a second set of rails were laid for that scenario and are visible in the 4th picture. As mentioned earlier, demand dwindled as the lift was being built, so it never operated with two caissons.

For a long time, this place was a childhood memory, visited during a school trip. In my hiking spree after the 2020 and 2021 lockdowns, I sought this place out again and was glad to see it was still working. And just this week, I returned with my parents and rode the lift! It's without doubt one of my favourite pieces of engineering.

A couple of quick-fire photos from the boat on a recent ride on the Canal de la Marne au Rhin. Picture sharpness isn't always fantastic when it's a rather fast reaction situation, but I still like this duck!

A Belgian Série 13 loco with freight, crossing a viaduct in North-Eastern France. The 13s are very flexible but do not support 15 kV, so the loco will be changed at the German or Swiss border if its cargo continues on.

Hello! I just saw your post about the conference. I know it's very niche, but I'd love to hear / read more about your sangaku presentation. I actually went back to Konnō Hachiman-gū this afternoon, hoping to see more examples, but no such luck. (I cannot decipher them, of course, but I taught English at a faculty of engineering, and my students could. Sometimes. )

I'll put together something about the shrine, but どうぞお先に。Nudge nudge hint hint.

Hi, thanks for the message!

The presentation was in two main parts: first the historical context of the Edo period and function of sangaku in developing mathematics during that time, and second a closer look at Kashihara Miminashi Yamaguchi-jinja's example with a modern solution. I can't read the sangaku in full, but I have been able to pick out the parts with numbers and compare some of their results with the formulas.

I can probably put together a mini-series at some point. Which parts would you want to hear more about? (That's a general question btw: anyone can reply and add the conversation of course.)

The conference went well, as far as I can tell, so here are a couple of low-sun views of Kashihara's preserved Edo-period area, Imai-chô, as an outro. The first building seems to be operating as an art gallery (maybe?), while the other is a neat little temple. Both are on the same street, 大工町筋, which Google Translate says could be Daiku-chô suji or Daiku-machi suji... or it could be something else, I don't remember reading the name myself on site.

Different place next.

Here we are: Miminashi-yama

When I visited Kashihara, looking to explore some deep Japanese history in the former province of Yamato, I expected to move around a bit, but there was actually enough in Kashihara itself to make for a busy day.

First up was this curious green round space in the middle of a residential area on the town map I'd picked up. It just seemed conspicuous to me, I decided to check it out.

This is Miminashi-yama, one of the Yamato Sanzan, or Three Main Mountains of Yamato. Though it stood out on the map and it does stand out in the plain around it, it's not huge, and it's a short climb to the top where a shrine awaited.

In that shrine, a sangaku geometry tablet is displayed. By chance, based on a whim, I had found one! Nearly six years on, I've finally solved it - it's not very difficult mathematically, it's just taken me this long to get on with it, having said that, even today I'm still figuring out extra things on it! - and will be presenting it at a conference tomorrow. I wouldn't have thought it at the time... I guess curiosity didn't kill the cat that day!

It's time to go back to Kashihara, and let's start by meeting the local animals!

I'm getting real "fancy pants" vibes from the cat! But to be fair, it is a darn good looking cat.

That is all until I think of something more intricate to talk about.

Everything is ready for Tuesday! How this particular configuration works, as well as the one below, will be covered - we can talk about it on here too afterwards if anyone's interested.

C'est avec grand plaisir que je présenterai le mardi 16 avril à la Maison Universitaire France-Japon de Strasbourg une conférence sur la géométrie pendant la période d'Edo, avec en support le sangaku de Kashihara. Entre grande Histoire et petits calculs. Lien vers les détails 4月16日(火)、ストラスブール市の日仏大学会館に江戸時代の算額についてコンファレンスをします。楽しみにしています！ Looking forward to giving a conference on Edo-period geometry on 16 April at Strasbourg's French-Japanese Institute. Expect a few posts about Kashihara around then. Has it really been 6 years?...

A little local train in Hikone: Ômi Tetsudô is a private company that's been around in the area for over 125 years, hence the panel on this particular train, in retro colours.

Japan has many small lines run by small companies which were never nationalised. However, Ômi Tetsudô is owned by the larger private rail company Seibu, based in the North-Western sector of Tokyo, whose main route is Ikebukuro to Chichibu. Ômi mainly runs second-hand Seibu stock.

Hikone Sawayama: summit & castle

It's not about what is there today, as much as it's about what was there. Sawayama was the original location of Hikone Castle, and it is quite possibly the most important castle in Japan to have been completely lost, as it was the castle of Ishida Mitsunari, the leader of the Western Army which lost the battle to unite Japan following the death of Toyotomi Hideyoshi. There are so few traces of the castle, no obvious tell-tale structures... This small altar may trace its roots back to the days of the castle, or maybe not, but this is just about it.

Sawayama Castle was thoroughly dismanted after 1600 following the defeat of Ishida, as the new lord of the area, Ii Naomasa, appointed by the victorious Tokugawa clan, relocated the castle to a smaller hill closer to Lake Biwa. Hikone Castle, which still stands today, basically recycled the materials from Sawayama, and the view of the "new" castle complex and the lake is the main draw for hikers today.

The summit offers good views of the mountains on the other side too, with the industrial complexes near Maibara, most noticeably Fujitec and their 170 m-tall elevator test tower, in the foreground.

Hikone Sawayama: base

Walking North along the railway from Hikone station, one reaches the base of the hiking trail up Sawayama. After passing Nagabayashi Inari-jinja, a typical shrine dedicated to the shintô deity of prosperity with its succession of red torii gates, several temples appear, featuring monuments to two historical figures of Hikone, Ishida Mitsunari and Ii Naomasa. More on them when we reach the top.

This is Ryôtan-ji Sanmon, the "gate to the mountain" which leads us to the grounds of Ryôtan temple and starting the short, sharp climb. As we begin, we are met with more popular Japanese deities: the Shichi-Fukujin, or Seven Lucky Gods.

Apparently Ryôtan-ji has a fantastic zen garden, but we missed it.

My favourite cherry blossom spot in Strasbourg is the Citadelle. The remains of the garrison built under Louis XIV are now a gorgeous park by the Rhône-Rhine canal, and the cherry blossoms there are of the variety that bloom into pompoms.

I haven't been to the park this year, only spotting from a distance that the trees are currently in bloom, somewhat earlier than usual. So here are some pictures from a previous year - the year I first saw this wonderful tree at the ruin's entrance.

While some wait for cherry blossoms as a sign of spring (and this includes me), another sign of the season in Alsace is the stork. Saw my first one in the sky this week - but this photo is from a previous year.

C'est avec grand plaisir que je présenterai le mardi 16 avril à la Maison Universitaire France-Japon de Strasbourg une conférence sur la géométrie pendant la période d'Edo, avec en support le sangaku de Kashihara. Entre grande Histoire et petits calculs. Lien vers les détails 4月16日(火)、ストラスブール市の日仏大学会館に江戸時代の算額についてコンファレンスをします。楽しみにしています！ Looking forward to giving a conference on Edo-period geometry on 16 April at Strasbourg's French-Japanese Institute. Expect a few posts about Kashihara around then. Has it really been 6 years?...

When I have the inspiration, I stage an Easter Bunny Massacre. Also it's April Fools' Day, so I wanted to post something funny. Lacking inspiration at the moment, I looked back at a previous Easter weekend.

The train to Kushimoto: a JR West 283-series Kuroshio express. The sets are getting on a bit, they were introduced in 1996 and the livery could do with a refresh, but the "dolphin nose" is distinctive, and I, for one, really like it. They're also quite rare, only 4 sets exist.

The Kisei Main Line is essentially the coastal route from Nagoya to Wakayama. The full trip around the Kii peninsula takes 8 hours by express train, with a change required at Shingû or Katsuura, but it's definitely scenic as it gets very close to the sea (photo between Kii-Tahara and Koza).

Daylight Saving Time, Edo style

These Edo-period clocks are on display at the National Museum of Nature and Science in Ueno, Tokyo. They are unusual in two ways: the display looks kind of like a ruler, and you may notice on the left example that the marks are irregular. This would seem to suggest that hours in one half of the day are considerably shorter than in the other half.

The basic idea is that the Sun always rose at 6 in the morning and always set at 6 in the evening. In between, the same number of hours, no matter the season. This means that in the summer, an hour was quite a bit longer than an hour in winter, and vice-versa for the nights. It turns out the Romans were doing this too, on a more elementary scale as their clocks were sundials, and soon noticed that they weren't getting as much rest at some times of the year...

Today, most of Europe and the US have Daylight Saving Time, and we're going through the "ugh, clocks forward, less sleep" movement in Europe tonight. But let's take a moment to consider that the owners of these clocks would have owned a set of rulers and changed them each month!

As any jagged coastline should, Shionomisaki has a lighthouse. Many were built across Japan during the modernisation of the Meiji era, and Kushimoto town has two.

After passing through the shrine in this picture, a trail continues to the left to a cape out of frame. People from the nearby port of Koza would go out there to watch for the arrival of pods of whales when their migration was due, and return home to basically say that hunting season had begun.

As such, Shionomisaki has always had a bit of a lookout role. And, according to the Akari no Moribito story, this guy below will be looking out for us against the forces of darkness in the future! The project has aimed to give all of Japan's main lighthouses a character, complete with a voice actor! I don't understand much, but on the surface, I think it's neat.

Shionomisaki: Honshu's southernmost point

Southern Kansai is probably best known for the Kumano Kodô, the pilgrimage routes related to the Nachi shrine and temple complex with one of Japan's most famous waterfalls. But Southern Kansai is also Southernmost Kansai, and the Shionomisaki peninsula, part of the town of Kushimoto is as South as it gets for the main island of Japan.

Beyond this lawn and those rocks is the Pacific Ocean: just water for thousands of kilometres in this direction! The nearest substantial landmass due South from here is Papua New Guinea, 35° latitude lower, or 10% of the Earth's circumference!

That's a nice lawn by the way, it would be a shame if someone...

Shionomisaki is basically Honshu's version of "Land's End" or "Finistere", and there is a little leisure complex to mark it. The recent Geopark Centre is good, but the blue buildings in the previous shot, the shop and restaurant and the observation tower, are from a different time and showing their age - case in point, the children's cups in the restaurant with the mascot of the 1998 World Cup in France!

Another edge of a fog bank on the bridge between the Port du Rhin and Citadelle sectors of Strasbourg. The railway is a freight line, I'm not sure if it's used much. The river, however, regularly sees barges passing by. Anyone or anything on the river had to be on the lookout that morning...

The Fog on the Rhine (is all mine, all mine)

After three weeks of marking, I finally managed to get out of my hole in late January. I was beckoned out by dense fog, seizing the chance to enjoy the misty atmosphere. When I reached the park that straddles the French-German border, I found it on the edge of a fog bank, with haze on one side of the footbridge and perfectly clear skies on the other.

While not among the most outstandingly beautiful parks, the Jardin des Deux Rives has things to offer on both sides of the border, and, just for that ability to hop over to another country, it ranks very high on the cool factor.

Not that the birds would know. They were just taking in the winter sunlight while they could.