A cathedral city at ease on the Rhine

Cologne announces itself from a long way off. The twin towers of the cathedral, 157 metres high and more than six centuries in the building, stand directly beside the main station, so that most visitors step off the train and look straight up. Around them lies a city that became a Roman colony in AD 50, was largely destroyed in the Second World War and was rebuilt without much vanity, which may be why it feels so relaxed about itself.

What Cologne lacks in grand boulevards it makes up for in neighbourhoods. The old town runs along the river in a row of narrow gabled houses below Groß St. Martin; the Belgian Quarter around Brüsseler Platz has the independent shops and late bars; Ehrenfeld, further west, mixes workshops, street art and Turkish bakeries. The Rhine promenade ties them together, and the broad steps of the Rheinboulevard on the Deutz bank give the classic view back across the water.

The local beer, Kölsch, is pale, light and served in slim 0.2-litre glasses, which waiters known as Köbes replace unasked until you lay a beer mat on top. Order a Halve Hahn with it and you get a rye roll with aged Gouda and mustard, not half a chicken. Carnival opens each year on 11 November at 11.11 and reaches its peak with the Rose Monday parade.