On this day in 1994, Strasbourg inaugurated - or rather, resurrected - its tramway network. Like many cities in France, Strasbourg had a streetcar system until the late 1950s, when it was decided that cars would take over. 30 years of worsening congestion and pollution later, the town chose a tramway, which had made a successful return in the mid 1980s in Nantes and Grenoble, over an automatic metro to revitalise its transit service.
Unlike Nantes and Grenoble, Strasbourg looked to foreign streetcar manufacturers Socimi and ABB, who designed a fully low-floor tram with generous windows. The Eurotram was at first a 33-metre vehicle (original form seen above), which quickly proved insufficient. A lengthened version, with an extra motor module and carriage, appeared in the following years.
Personally, I quite like this tram for the massive windows, the very mechanical sounds as it runs, and the fact that the warning bell is a real bell (later models have an electronic bell which... just sounds worse). A downside I have noticed, though not for me specifically, is that it has a low ceiling.
After losing out in the 90s, national constructor Alstom won the next round of contracts for Strasbourg's trams in the 2000s. The Citadis model, fully low-floor and taller than the Eurotrams, entered service in 2005. More Citadis trams arrived in 2016, with a new design that I really like, and with special adaptations to allow it to run in Germany, as the network crossed the border to Kehl in 2017, a first for a French tram operator.
Today, the network consists of 6 lines, crisscrossing the city centre and heading out into the suburbs. A 7th line is in the planning stages, due to head North towards Bischheim and Schiltigheim. Despite refurbishment, the Eurotrams won't be around forever, and new trams are on order - more from Alstom.
Combining a suburban train service with the ability to navigate city streets sounds amazing. People can live nearer to the countryside, get frequent service into town, and, if everything lines up, commute straight into work without changes and avoiding the main station. The complementarity and opportunity to revitalise a branch line all sounds appealing... but a real challenge to implement. In France, only Mulhouse has truly achieved it.
Tram-trains aren't exactly rare in France: there are several lines around Paris, Nantes and Lyon have them (and many more had tram-train projects at some point). But, while the vehicles are capable of running in both modes, they are mostly used as a cheaper way to operate a line. The Nantes-Clisson and Nantes-Châteaubriant tram-trains, for example, which I have ridden, are just regional trains, running on heavy rail nearly all the way, and only stopping where the trains always used to.
Mulhouse is the only place in France to have true tram-train operations as described in the introduction: the tram-trains add traffic to line 3 between Mulhouse central station and Lutterbach, before switching to train mode and continuing on the branch line to Kruth as far as Thann.
The vehicles themselves are remarkable, as they need to be equipped for both streetcar and heavy rail operations, and each has its own requirements: lighting, horns, power supply, safety features... Mulhouse's vehicles are Siemens Avanto S70s, built in 2009-2010, and operated by SNCF as class U 25500. Similar units were introduced near Paris as early as 2005.
Produced since 2010 by Siemens, the Vectron is a modular locomotive platform with various engine options - AC electric, quad-voltage for use across Europe, "last-mile Diesel" option for parking, Diesel motors, dual mode/hybrid... It hauls both freight and passenger trains. But the main reason I've wanted to mention the Vectron is...
this Mitchell and Webb sketch!
This is from series 3 of That Mitchell and Webb Look, which was aired in 2009. The Siemens Vectron was officially launched in 2010, so it's fair to say that the name appearing in both is a coincidence. However, when I see a Vectron, it reminds me of this sketch, so it's harder for me to take this train seriously!
But it is serious business, as it is one of the most common locos in continental Europe. Only Iberia (due to using a different gauge) and France (because if it ain't Alstom, they'll oust 'em) don't see much of them. The examples shown here are from Germany, Switzerland and Slovakia, and were all pictured in the same area of Germany. The quad-voltage version in particular allows companies to carry freight all over Europe, they're virtually borderless.
Yet here I am, still snickering at the name, by Vectron's beard!
Now that @fredomotophoto is back from Alsace and Germany, I can do a piece on Black Forest clocks without spoiling his trip! The area has a lot of clock-making history, and to this day, typical tourist shops like the one above - TriBär, a play on the town of Triberg and the word Bär which... you can guess, a.k.a the House of 1000 Clocks - are full of cuckoo clocks ticking and going off all the time. It probably gets quite weird working in one of those places...
Triberg is host to the most extreme cuckoo clocks. The world's smallest are housed in the Schwarzwaldmuseum in the town centre. Wall camera on the right for scale.
Further up into the hills, on the edge of Schonach, is the opposite: this is world's first largest cuckoo clock, referenced in this previous post. As it was closed on the day I visited, I don't know much about the history of this clock, but it's housed in a building the size of a small house (gate on the right for scale)... and it isn't the biggest one any more.
The current biggest one is on the other side of Triberg, and located at the base of a big climb on the Schwarzwald Railway Adventure Trail. Gate on the right for scale. The whole building doesn't count as the clock itself (that would be too easy), only the mechanism does, and it is 4.5 m wide, with an 8 m pendulum. It took 5 years to build and its cost is estimated in the millions of euros, so you know what you're in for if you want to beat it. For a small fee, it is possible to visit the interior, but I was a bit pressed for time as I didn't want to miss the next train at the next viewpoint. I just took a break in the shop and caught the 5 o'clock cuckoo before moving on.
Bonus clock from the museum:
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!
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!
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.
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.