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A welcome at reception, an escort to your pitch, a hand with parking. We know our regulars by name.
The Franke family and the Rheingaucamping campsite
Nobody is merely checked in here. Arrivals are greeted and walked to their pitch – and when the manoeuvring gets tight, someone stands there and guides you in. It takes a few minutes longer, but it is the difference between a number on a slip of paper and a place where you were expected.
Many guests have been coming back for decades. Some camped here as children and now park their own caravan on the meadow. The short chat at reception soon turns into a longer one – we take the time, because that is exactly why most of them return.
Walk between the pitches and you will hear several languages at once. Guests from all over Europe, and now and then from far beyond it, come together here, often for a few days, sometimes for the whole summer. What they share is the wish to leave everyday life behind for a while.
A welcome at reception, an escort to your pitch, a hand with parking. We know our regulars by name.
The bank of the Rhine is a few steps from the site. Ships pass by, the vineyards begin behind them – a holiday day needs no more of a programme than that.
The site is run by the Franke family. Decisions are made here on site, not at a head office.
Some things in these photographs are instantly familiar, others are long gone. The caravans have changed, the cars certainly have – the vineyards behind and the Rhine beside them have not. On the old picture postcard the site is still called simply “Campingplatz der Wein- und Lindenstadt Geisenheim a. Rh.”
I am Piffche, the wine goblet of Rheingaucamping – and if you have questions about the site, do ask me. I know every corner: where the morning sun lands first, where the bread rolls come from, and why the manoeuvring on the slope is worth it. And when I do not know something, I say so.