A recent spring weekend was spent biking along the banks of the Moselle River in the company of friends. The green of the newly budded trees along the steep hillsides, which in turn reflected in the waters of the river, was a welcome sight after what felt like endless months of winter gray. While the scenery was stunning, I can’t give unqualified praise to the cycling itself. While most parts of the cycling path took us through vineyards or alongside the banks of the river, there were a few stretches directly alongside the busy main road. The speed of the cars bearing upon us to our right, coupled with the packs of lycra-clad, hard-core bikers with whom we shared the path to the left, made for harrowing conditions. I shudder to think of any families with young children who might unwittingly venture out on such a trail.

When we sat down to coffee in late afternoon and pulled out our biking map, we came to the realization that the parts of the trail that ran along the highway were clearly indicated by broken patches of red dots. This revelation dictated our choice of route for the remainder of the journey, and served to reinforce my long-standing notion that any map you happen to pick up is literally screaming at you with all-too-often ignored information.

The biking map of my immediate vicinity indicates the steepness of grades by one or two > symbols. I am shown where I am allowed to swim, ride a horse, or fly a model airplane. Castle ruins and ferry crossings are pointed out to me. All I need to do is learn to heed these symbols.

A road atlas is no different in its attempt to impart to its user a similar wealth of information. The little steam engine that looks like something from Monopoly denotes a recreational steam railroad. The FKK symbol means “no problem” if you forget your bathing suit. The little black dot topped with a pennant is pointing out a castle. If the pennant is tipped to its side, you have a castle ruin.

My favorite European map symbol, however, is the box around the city, town, or attraction’s name. This simple demarcation means the place has been rated as particularly charming or otherwise significant and worthy of a traveler’s time and attention. On many maps, an underlined city name denotes a mildly interesting place. So, the next time you’re out on a Sunday drive and wondering where take your next break, grab your handy atlas and plan your pit stop accordingly.

Do you call Bamberg, Heidelberg, Mainz, Garmisch-Partenkirchen or Trier home? If so, lucky you — you live in a “boxed name” city. According to an AAA Europe Road Atlas, here are some “gems” not all that far from military communities. Some you’ve heard of, but ohers might not be at all familiar.

GERMANY

Rhineland Palatinate — Trier, Mains, Worms, Speyer.

Hessen — Darmstadt, Michelstadt, Marburg, Kassel, Fulda, Schlitz

Baden Wurtemburg — Baden-Baden, Ludwigsburg, Schwäbish Gmund, Schwäbish Hall, Bad Wimpfen, Rothenburg ob der Tauber, Freiburg, Reichenau, Meersburg, Ravensburg, Zwiefalten, Weingarten.

Bavaria — Miltenberg, Bayreuth, Coburg, Nuremberg, Ansbach, Dinkelsbühl, Nördlingen, Ingolstadt, Regensburg, Amberg, Ottobeuren, Augsburg, Landshut.

Thuringia — Eisenach, Erfurt, Weimar, Naumburg.

Nordrhein Westphalia — Cologne, Düsseldorf, Aachen, Xanten, Soest, Münster.

BELGIUM

Liège, Zoutleeuw, Leuven, Tournai, Gent, Brugge, Antwerp.

NETHERLANDS

The Hague, Delft, Rottterdam, Gouda, Utrecht, Leiden, Haarlem.

Next time you’re out and about, pay attention to your map — it’s trying to tell you something. Sure wish I had done the same before my last bike trip.