This summer, inspired by Greta Thunberg and the dread of a busy airport full of over-tired people, also known as torture, my beloved and I took a train from London through to Prague. We stopped off in Cologne, Dresden and Saxon Switzerland before ending in Czech Republic, Czechia or whatever they’re calling it today. With this holiday’s relaxed travel ethos and saving-the-world vibe, I feel like I’ve finally nailed how to do it right.

Eurostar is just a wonder, isn’t it? Despite their byzantine queueing system where a ticket purchased on Bahn.de requires you to the “just go there, just wait there” line for an eternity while everyone seeing said Bahn.de ticket looks scared, it’s still streets ahead of flying. That is, until we’re settled in, the train is pulling out of London and a tour guide starts talking to her group in a very piercing voice for what seems like forever. They are going to Antwerp I gather, and she is guiding them through escalators of Europe, and telling them about the chances of being robbed whilst in Brussels for twenty minutes. Once she’s word-bombed one lot of people, off she goes to another group. The peace and quiet of Eurostar is shattered so I put in my headphones and listen to Slipknot to calm me down. At Brussels, we are robbed twice and can’t work the escalators.

On the ICE train to Cologne, I realise with some horror that I’d not reserved tickets from Brussels and every compartment is rammed with people apart from first class which is, as ever, almost entirely empty. It’s quiet save for the sounds of champagne corks popping, aimed at the eyes of the poor. I cleverly use my un-corked eyes to spot one compartment fully booked, but from Cologne so we grab seats and realise everyone in there is British, American or Australian. We’re drawn to the compartment, I reckon, for the romance of it and the memory of when trains were like Harry Potter. The American impresses us all with his grasp of English when asked a question in German, he barks “English”.

I recall my first trip to Cologne, when I hated the city. I had been in Brussels with a friend, which we loved and Cologne seemed dreary in comparison. At the time that Germany were holding the World Cup, there was more energy in Belgium. Imagine! This time, Cologne presented itself as a thoroughly cool place, even if it isn’t much to look at. There are shops which resemble those in London, with the same succulents in tiny holders, postcards along the lines of Happy birthday, you old motherfucker and images of Cologne cathedral in neon pink. I also feel that Cologne was far better this time thanks to the brilliant 25hours hotel which I had been interested in staying in for a while. I already knew I loved the look of the building; it’s an old insurance company headquarters and 25hours have kept a number of the original features which gives it, in their own words, a retro-futuristic vibe. Attention to detail is everywhere, from the lobby which features a stunning ceiling, beneath which is the original reception desk where old typewriters are placed. The lobby is full of deep chairs, all within reach of a giant Taschen book on topics such as architecture, art, graphic design, the Bauhaus movement and cities. The lobby also has a store where you can buy Cologne gin, excellent garish socks with parrots on, books, notepads and so on. There’s a vinyl store with turntables for playing music and even a couple of Daleks hanging out.

Design doesn’t stop at the reception, the lifts are covered in mirrors, which is ideal for selfies and the ‘gram (ugh). The rooms have plenty of little touches that mark this out as a great hotel; every room has a UE Boom bluetooth speaker which is a simple idea that I haven’t seen replicated elsewhere and made me very pleased – clearly better than trying to belt out tunes on a mobile phone. There are books, comics and magazines on the bedside table for light reading and an old phone if you need to call anyone from the past. On the roof is a popular cocktail bar which does lots of fruity drinks at a reasonable price, offering far reaching views of Cologne. The downside is that I now only want to stay at their hotels.

We stroll out to Brusseller Platz where many ping pong tables are used by the youth to play badly. One man plays with a broken arm, and he’s one of the better ones. Mature trees offer some welcome relief from the blazing sun and the Belgian quarter has a series of genuinely old buildings to admire as it wasn’t badly damaged in the war. Later in the walk, it was chilling to note some information inlaid into the street of former inhabitants, saying where they were deported to in the war.

We ate lunch at Noa, and the salad I ordered came as a giant plate bursting with fresh leaves and herbs, quinoa, balsamic dressing and I added prawns in a chili sauce on the side. To say I was happy would be to downplay the concept of happiness. We head on to Aachener Weiher for a sit down overlooking a park and we sample one of the delights of the city, a Kolsch. It’s a 200ml beer that’s deeply refreshing and a reminder of how good the Germans are at this stuff. For dinner, we went to Café Feynsinn, which didn’t live up to Noa’s taste attack, but it’s a good restaurant playing many 80’s hits which is always a tick from me. My dinner was a pasta dish that was far nicer than Ryan’s veggie burger. As ever, our simple rule of no burgers or pizzas outside London was not applied and we paid the price. To round the evening off, we had cocktails at an outside bar, watching the world go by and being shocked at just how many songs Rihanna has done and how similar they are. Even the videos could be swapped over for one another.

Our second day was another beautiful one and we headed to Café Hommage for breakfast. It’s a typical hipster place, and instead of getting a number for your table, you choose a toy animal of your liking. We chose Bambi. While the breakfast was good, Nutella pancakes being an appropriate start to the day, the coffee was the real star of the show. Fortified with caffeine, we headed through the city and across the enormous bridge to Rheinpark to read and watch the world go by. There’s honestly little better than to sit in the shade reading a book. It’s relaxation of the purest kind.

Dragging ourselves off the grass, we got a train to Brühl, named after nobody’s favourite German actor, Daniel Brühl and to Augustsburg Castle which is a beautiful example of rococo architecture and is set within meticulously manicured grounds open to the public. Built in 1725, it has a staircase so grand that you’ll leave wondering if you can pull it off in your semi. Once a seat of power when Bonn was the capital of West Germany, dignitaries would gather on the staircase for a photo op. It has the ostentatious look that a certain president would admire greatly. Ready to take endless photos, we were told this was strictly forbidden and you could only go through the building in a guided tour, in German.

Headset on, and catching the odd bit of German, I learned some nuggets of information about the castle. In a state room is a beautiful stove in the corner of the room, which has no opening to feed it fuel. Behind the stove is a corridor where workers would shovel coal in lest the poshos have to witness how heat works. Other stories we were told marked the inhabitants to be real pieces of work. Sometimes the leader had a banquet all to himself, with the locals watching from a gallery upstairs, observing and smelling the feast below. He was on record as saying they loved this.

While we didn’t have the funds to antagonise people in the manner of the obnoxiously wealthy, we did manage to feast later in the evening at WALLCZKA, where we somehow bagged a table with a reserved sign on. I guess my German is that good. WALLCZKA is in the Neuehrenfeld district, a 15 minute journey from the centre of Cologne but it was worth it as the food was a total triumph. The burrata with chimichurri was bright and zesty, the duck salad was equally fresh but for me, the courgette kofta in a tomato and coconut sauce was a knock-out. To finish the night off, we head to Little Link cocktail bar and expect good things as the website proclaims “we are excellent” and I can’t disagree. The staff are friendly, they know their stuff and they understand their demographic when a cocktail with a film theme comes in a bag stuffed with popcorn.

After a great two days, it’s time to leave Cologne, but not before a quick reminder of what happened in WW2. The city was devastated with 37,000 tonnes of explosives dropped by the RAF, in 262 air raids. One particular raid struck me; over 1000 bombers attacked the city so that Bomber Command could get a propaganda win. They bombed the city for 90 minutes with the aim to cause so much damage that the fire brigade would be overwhelmed. Sometimes war just feels like statistics that are so overwhelming it’s pointless to really think about what these numbers mean. I thought it easier to think about this; in total the Luftwaffe dropped 40,000 tonnes of bombs on the UK in the war. Cologne was essentially dismantled from the air.