339 miles took me from one ‘Three Lands Point’ to another. I raced east to the Rhine, then followed this majestic river south through Germany, down the French border, to meet Switzerland.
By this point, I was getting into the swing of European touring. Pretty quaint Belgium had prepared me well for some slightly larger scale countries. Germany delivered.
The story picks up at the ceremonial stone marker at which Germany, Belgium, and The Netherlands meet, on a brisk morning with mist just starting to burn off in the sun. A brief bit of forest path, and then a roll down the hill through fields, and i’m in Aachen: the first German city.
In Aachen, i’m hoping to get my chain cleaned before setting off east for the Rhine. It’s a busy, metropolitan city, with a few bike shops. However, no luck: apparently cleaning chains is too messy business for bike shops. Oily rag it is, then!
“As I was outside stealing wifi, another employee compliments me on the bike and asks about the tour. He gives me good directions to the shop near the station. Really friendly guy! This was nice, as Germany was otherwise living up to the stereotype of being serious and humourless. On the wifi, I found the formal offer letter from First Light. Good start.”
“At the station, the three guys don’t speak English, have a bit of a seedy feel, and don’t seem like they want to play sign-the-dirty-chain, so I decide to leave Aachen to it. […] Cycle infrastructure is better than Britain, but nowhere near as good as the Netherlands or Belgium. The paths are often bumpy, sometimes don’t exist, routes are badly signposted, and I find myself joining the main carriageway far more than i’ve got used to. There’s also some hills here, but we’ll forgive that.”
The day consisted of a fast ride through western Germany. I like to see a country on display for the tourists sometimes, but I got far more of a feel for Germany in this region:
“It’s fascinating to see Germany just doing its own thing. This side of the country is full of just pretty normal towns, nothing fascinating going on, not much sign of any history or tourist interest. It’s certainly German, but well, just getting on with life.”
So Schlich has replaced Schlump as my favourite German place-name.
“Around 6:30, I was leaving one little town, having lost the Google path and given up on the signs. I picked up some cycle signs to the next, 11km or so away, and decided to follow them. The town looked big enough to have somewhere quick for food, and had plenty of green around it. Up the hill, and down the hill I went, and through a sort of industrial estate under construction. Here I realised that i’d lost the signs. I’d gained some views though. Despite the late hour, empty stomach, and uncertain accommodation plans, I got the camera out quickly. Maps.me showed that I had to cross a big road, over a very complicated intersection, to get to Bad Whatsthetown. The intersection had some dotted lines which I took for being cyclable, so I set off. Oops. Shit. In the middle of some fields, on a tiny bumpy track clearly intended for farmers, taking me away from the intersection. Wait wait, bridge ahead, over the road. Bridge doesn’t look used much. On the other side, the paths are even less defined. They’re marked on the OSM [Open Street Map, which Maps.me uses] though, impressive! I start on gravelly, Land-Rover-track, which becomes grassy, bumpy, steep paths, trying to work my way towards the other big road I have to cross. Success! A slightly more real path. This takes me down, under a huge bridge crossing the valley. Then some more crappy tiny footpaths, and i’m into a quaint satellite town. I find roads to take me to Badburg, but the road I want seems to be quite a big quick road, and i’m not sure bikes are allowed. Fuck it, i’m a tourist. I zoom down a cool twisty downhill section at high speed, then what do I find but the signs i’d lost! These gather me up, lead me across another complex intersection, and take me into town.”
After a somewhat stressed and eventful evening, I found myself a brilliant place to camp. Cycle touring does turn people mad sometimes.
“So right now i’m in the tent, leaning back against my folded air mat. I’ve got earbuds in and i’m really feeling the Led tonight. (You Shook Me Baby right now.) Before I got in the tent, I turned off my phone, left all the kit and particularly the gadgets in the panniers, and sat looking down on the world, next to the tent, with a delightful St Bernardus Abbey 8. Still night, disturbed by occasional gusts. Leaves on the ground, bare branches of sparse trees stretching above me into the saturated evening sky, as the sun went down over Bad Whateverburg. The birds chirped their little hearts out, and I whistled along to their weird atonal song. I needed a little time to center myself, and I got that. The world is a funny place, people are strange, and it’s cool.”
I hadn’t realised how close I was already to the Rhine. Cyclepaths took me quickly to the Sinzig where I paused for coffee and to catch up with civilisation, and from there it was a quick jaunt to the river.
“It’s certainly a river. It’s huge, and sits in a picturesque and romantic valley. Along the sides are castles and mansions, forests, cliffs, that sort of thing.”
My first view of the mighty Rhine:
“The villages and towns along the river are all pretty and steeped in history, and while they seem like they should be a bit touristy and diluted, they aren’t.”
“Plenty of big industry too, dockyards lining the banks and container barges going up and down. The cyclepath was great fun. A little bumpy, but I clattered and clanked along at high speed for a while, following the river with some elation.”
I remember this day as being an energetic and joyful dash, racing big river barges under a hot sun while listening to groovy doom metal from Oxfordshire. Cheers Desert Storm.
“Koblenz is big and quite industrial feeling. Doubtless it has it’s stories and history, but I didn’t stick around. The next little town is a bit quirky and historic - it seems there’s some Roman history here. Feeling like i’ve not been feeding myself well enough, I stopped for a kebab and chatted to the owner briefly about Scotland. It’s been a bit of a lonesome day actually… As I was eating, heavy rain hit, and this pissed me off a bit, until the most spectacular double rainbow emerged, at one point over a castle. Yeah…”
“…following rough muddy tracks uphill into the woods. This seemed pretty hopeful, but curiously, on my map was marked a campsite nearby that didn’t appear on the camping app. At about 8, about the point of no return, I decided to investigate. Seems to be something like a scout camp site. I doubt i’m technically allowed to be here, but hell, I have no idea. I’ll try to be out early, anyway.”
The night was clear and filled with incredible stars. In the morning I woke in thick mist, but the sun made sure that didn’t last long.
“Woke up, packed up, realised i’d lost gloves. Backtracked all the way until partway down yesterday’s hill, so glad I found them :) Got going.. Wow, such incredible views over the Rhine. Hot sunny day. Such downhill! Crazy switchbacks, proper downhilling with a tent. Ridiculously beautiful ride.”
The things I do on this bike are not things that anybody should do on a loaded touring bike. It’s fantastic.
They call this part of the river ‘The Romantic Rhine’. I get what they mean, but to me it seemed more like an epic or a fairytale landscape. There were castles everywhere, high on the cliffs which line the river. I had the perfect weather, and the perfect soundtrack with Blind Guardian and Amon Amarth. Epic in every sense of the word.
“Got internet, two CS accepts - one 120km away, one 50. Rode hard like the wind, really pushing, making great speed, but 120km plus the 20 i’d already done, too much.”
View from the cockpit.
German sausage!
It took me a moment to remember why i’d taken this photo. So there’s a Amon Amarth song, ‘Tattered Banners and Bloody Flags’. Each time I saw a place name with the ‘-heim’ ending, a line from this song got stuck in my head:
“Hyrm’s hord march from [place name]heim, and the Fenriz wolf returns.”
My favourite subsitution was this one, Sporkenheim!
So I went with the closer Couchsurfing host, in Eltville. This gave me a pretty relaxed afternoon. I took the river ferry, and rode into town, passing this guy on the way. He’d been stacking rocks and had some impressive creations. Though he tried to get out of the way when I asked to take a picture, I caught him.
Eltville is a cool place, lots of history. A very attractive little town by the riverside.
I stayed with Sonja, a Physics teacher at a local school. She’s cool and laid back, and we had a nice relaxing evening with beers and a film. She’s travelled to some incredible places, and taken some awesome photos which are organised nicely into books from each trip. She’s the sort of person who makes me want to travel more - part of the danger of Couchsurfing.
The next day I set off down the river, on the eastern bank. Going past Mainz, I decided to cross back over and have a look.
“Almost had first accident! I was going pretty damn quick, transitioning from brick to footpath with a curb at the edge, aimed for the curb and must have steered wide. Front wheel lost grip, got thrown out from under me - then regained grip, got thrown out the other way. Couple of oscillations, bled off a bunch of speed, and I was sailing again with much elevated heart rate. Time didn’t slow down or anything - instinct part of brain just took over, dealt with it, then handed control back to me. Was in just a t-shirt, clipped in (don’t think i’d have unclipped before hitting the ground), busy with people all about, high speed… Would have been nasty. Really exhilarating, but let’s never do that again.”
I am absolutely gutted to have missed an opportunity here. So i’m not a particularly good photographer, nor am I interested in becoming one. Instead, I have grown some little hobbies, one of which is taking pictures of people taking pictures of things. There’ll be a blog post about it soon. One of these three was taking a picture of the other two by the river. This would have been worth many many points, but I didn’t get to my camera in time. Gutted.
Aleks, CS host from Maastricht, had suggested to me that maybe I should sell the bike and get a horse drawn caravan instead. I forget why. Just as I was thinking about how cool this would be and all the opportunities it would afford, I passed this guy. Maybe next tour!
“Path took me largely away from the river today, through rather less picturesque places. Not bad, just not so beautiful or romantic. Hot sunny day until cloudy evening. Listened to Puscifer, Tool, Type O Neg, and White Stripes. Got a big pizza in one of the towns. Navigation was a little tricky, following signs and maps, lost in places.”
The bike is doing great.
I met this group of five German students on tour, the first big group of cyclists i’ve met. They’d got the train down south, and were on their last day riding back home, wildcamping along the way. They were clearly having great fun, doing cycle touring right! I hung out with two very giggly girls and a cool and mellow guy before being on my way.
Beautiful cyclepaths through vineyards (I think).
Gotta have a hobby. I can’t help but feel that they could have picked a nicer place for it.
Tine, my Couchsurfing host, stays in Mannheim. My first impression was that it’s grimy, grey, industrial, multicultural but in an ‘ethnic tensions, badly-integrated’ sort of way.
Tine and her boyfriend are hitchhiking travelling hippy types, and they made me feel really welcome. We were going to go out, but ended up staying in drinking tasty local apple wine and other interesting things, chatting about travel and Mannheim.
I’ve got to say, hearing her views and her experiences, I felt obliged to give Mannheim a second chance. I’d like to spend some more time here to really get under the surface. Tine wants to start a hostel sometime, and I hope she manages.
In the morning, Tine invited me to stay for lunch with her family who were to be visiting. I figured i’d take a short day to reach Heidelberg, and gladly agreed to lunch.
This is Tine’s room. Her place is so full of patterns and textures and colours.
“I chatted to her dad over lunch about the British red phone box that he’d bought on eBay. As you do. It was currently at a shop to get sanded, and he was trying to source the right British Standard red paint, after which he was going to install it in the garden. With a childish glee he confirmed that he was indeed going to hook it up as a phone! He also showed us all a Youtube video of some Brits using a Land Rover to recover a phone box from a garden, which was pretty funny - he found it hilarious. The conversation switched between English and German, and in a laid-back family setting, I could often get the gist of the German that they spoke.”
“I rode along a very crowded cyclepath, through parks and fields. Big hills grew on the horizon. I overtook and was occasionally overtaken by all sorts of cyclists. Didn’t see any tourists though. Following the signs, at one point I paid €0.50 to catch a ferry across the river Neckar (?), to join a park full of people soaking up the sun and having BBQs on the other side. Smooth riding on took me into Heidelberg.”
On the cyclepath, I saw some interesting vehicles. This is a hand-cycle I guess. I’m sure there must be a proper name for it.
“My first impressions as I rode along the river were certainly good. The big spacious parks were full of people out relaxing in the sun, and the place had a safe, studenty, historic vibe. I rode across the bridge to the main town, which is much more normal. Just a standard town really.”
Leisurely, pleasant feel to the place. The beautiful day helps.
I relaxed in the park for a while, they checked myself into the hostel.
“[Aleks] recommended I see Heidelberg properly, so I set aside some time in the morning for this. The other main distraction was a German guy who came in to use the computer. Older man, working at the hostel. Very German! He’s a travelling sort who’s apparently down on money at the moment. Was fascinating to hear his views on Germany - quite anti-immigrant, anti-Merkel, not a fan of Mannheim where he used to live! He has some English, but slipped into German now and then, which was kinda brilliant. He was keen that I should go work in Norway or America or something. Another fascinating insight into German culture that I didn’t expect to have. What else went on? Well, it was already about 2am by this point. Oops. [Couchsurfing] told me of a doom gig in Karlsruhe the next day, and of David, a guy attending who’s long-haired, plays drums, and has done some cycle touring - naturally I sent a request before catching some sleep!”
This is the bridge monkey. Sometimes it’s good to have tourists in your pictures. Certainly it gives a more honest view of the place. Rubbing the coin will give you good fortune or something, his fingers good luck, and the mice at his feet many children. I avoided the mice.
I decided to push my bike up the stairs to the top of the Philosophy Way. This was a mistake. There were a few more of them than I anticipated.
“Not many tourists here but I amused/impresses some Germans. Some older Germans with little English wished me ‘very good happiness’. Some younger ones offered to help me. At the top, another group commented that I must have been building big arm muscles. I was sweating and puffed out already. Conti breakfast > gravitational potential energy.”
This was my best attempt at a triumphant smile. Hot day. Managed a grimace instead.
I promise I didn’t do any tilt-shift trickery, the city just looks this cool from above. It reminded me of the Miniatur Wunderland in Hamburg.
The famous bridge.
“City looked really incredible bathed in sun, from above. I rode down the steep Philosophenweg, converting the conti breakfast into heat in my brakes.”
The day’s ride was fast and energetic.
“…the path led me on nice quick firetracks through sunny forests, very pleasant going. Getting close to Karlsruhe, a bridge was closed so I followed a local who pointed me off in the right direction. Here I blasted some proper rooty singletrack, [Orange Goblin] playing, at far too great a speed for the bike. There were some proper nasty roots, and at the next bridge I was quite surprised that I hadn’t buckled a wheel, or broken the rear rack or anything like that.”
“The final stretch into Karlsruhe was really pleasant. Everyone was out having a lazy time, and my first experience of the place was a big, central grassy park, people all over the place drinking beers, doing circusy stuff, lazing about. It was quite Oxfordy! On the other side of the park, I entered a more residential area which was very multicultural, but not in the threatening way that Mannheim had been. I stopped at a corner to check where a supermarket might be, and [heard] my name called from somewhere behind me. I’d happened to get to the right street, and David was on his balcony calling me.”
“He’s a cheery, very laid back guy, and asked me what I needed first. I was sweating buckets after the ride, so after a cold shower I went out to the balcony and met him and his friend Alex, a Greek guy. David’s flat is a messy, batcheloresque, cool place, with a band room, a tiny bar in the kitchen, paintings of psychedelic women on the walls of the open bedroom… Alex and David were sitting on the balcony drinking water, and I joined them. We chatted about what I was up to, about the place, about music - they’re all musicians, studying or teaching or working. […] Once piano guy arrived, they got to jamming and I hung around and listened. Really good stuff, very jazzy! […] I went out to the supermarket, and made a bit of an improvised chili while they jammed”
“Done and a little late, we walked over to the gig, which is in the studenty area in a uni building. Little venue but cool. €1.30 beers. We bought a few rounds. Plenty of people, 100 there maybe. The first band were great, proper riff heavy doom. Finnish. The second were weird, all improvised, very wanky in places. A bunch of great musicians, but maybe not quite there as a band. The audience loved them, but that may be because they are local. Plenty of older people in the audience, and the band for that matter. I got on well with David’s little group, really cool guys. The third band were another Finnish doom band. Good, but dull - just one sound, a very Finnish delay heavy sound that wasn’t overly doomy. We headed back after a while, all dispersed, and I caught some sleep.”
“Filled the water bottles and packed the bags, loaded up in hot hot heat. Round the corner to the supermarket, I stocked up for a few days of food. Think I over-bought, bike feeling very heavy and full”
“Plan to go to Strasbourg, camp somewhere nearby. Took me ages to navigate out of Karlsruhe though, and I was anxious to start consistently putting down miles. Got to the roads I wanted, and the cyclepaths are better, but still not as quick as i’d like, as the paths are not well signposted and go through lots of little villages. So somewhere north of Rattatt, I decided to cut across to France. For a good few miles, I cycled alongside the Rhine, on a wide, smooth, quiet road. However, the views aren’t all that. There’s a little canal, then a big bank between me and the Rhine, so I can’t actually see it. Oh well, grass is always greener. Rode comfortably and consistently. Stopped a bit for tinned goulash, which was surprisingly good. Doing good progress actually, though this came as a bit of a surprise.”
This is the bridge that took me to France. It had a sort of cathedral-esque feel to it.
Occasionally I popped up the bank to see the Rhine. That’s Germany on the other side, trying to make me regret going to France.
“A little south, I picked up the Eurovelo route 15 and left the Rhine. […] Through some villages, and the weather came in. A thunderstorm upwind of me looked really dramatic. Crashes of thunder and flashes of lightning… Then it reached me. Dramatic! Sheltered for a bit. Rain eased up so I followed cycle route into a forest. Ducked into a wooden shelter with a bench to see if any camping nearby. Rain stopped so I went on, but after about 100m rain came down heavy. Back to shelter! Chatted briefly with a local guy, asked him and he said i’d be fine to put the tent up here. So that’s what i’ve done.”
What’s road soup? This is road soup. This one features rice, tinned fish, fresh veg (I think there’s onion and carrot here), stock, and lots of salt & pepper. Much tastier than it sounds, particularly after 100km.
“Tent is on a side path, just out of sight, i’m sitting at the bench eating a road-soup. (Now in the tent, listening to the rain.)”
“Today started wet. I snoozed a half hour after my alarm, listening to the rain on the tent. Once i’d roused myself, I packed up and headed over to last night’s shelter for a meagre breakfast. The weather was grey, and everything felt stiff - I had the feeling this wasn’t going to be a sprightly joyous day on the road. Still, plenty of hours left, I figured I could get through Strasbourg, put down 20 miles before midday, and either enjoy the afternoon, or at least do some good progress to put myself close to Basel for tomorrow.”
“Well Strasbourg seemed a bit dire. The weather wasn’t helping. It was very very French. Drivers uncourteous, pedestrians just stepped out in front of me. Cycle paths confusing or badly signed. Not the prettiest place either. I couldn’t spot any little cafes or supermarkets or anywhere likely for internet, and with the bike troubles, time was passing. I decided to just get a move on to the south. I passed a quite nice old cathedral on the way I guess, and very French trendy shopping streets. Like, really really French. As I was getting close to the other side of town, I spotted an American Diner type place, and figured it would do. Disappointingly small and expensive bacon and egg muffin was actually very tasty. Got some internet - checked my route, checked the bike computer manual, replied to Myriam, couchsurfer for tomorrow. Email from First Light, all seems good and i’ve got the final version of the contract now. I chatted briefly with one of the guys, who despite not having much English, was friendly and pleasant.”
I took nicer photos of the cathedral, but this one seems the most honest. In retrospect, I didn’t really give Strasbourg a fair chance. Next time maybe.
I happened to meet a whole bunch of cyclists that afternoon.
“Just a little further along, I saw a group of three more cycle tourists chatting. When it rains… Two older people, and one younger, dreadlocked girl on a cool, old school recumbent. I pulled up again and commented on the bike. I can’t remember how I asked, but on a whim I asked if she knew Myriam in Basel - (surprised look) disco! I explained how i’d requested to stay with Myriam on CS and she’d mentioned her friend cycling the other way. The other two took their leave and made their way. Before we’d even swapped names, Fiona offered to let me have a go on her bike, which made me a little nervous, but she was trusting, and how often do you get to try out a recumbent! I had a quick shot up the long straight path, worryingly close to the canal. Shaky at first, once I got moving it was weird, required a little calibration, but then I pressed the pedals and it just picked straight up. Maaan, in the headwinds this thing would be great. I didn’t ride long before returning it to its owner, or borrower at least.”
“…she was on day four, had been staying with Myriam, spent the night in the tent and had already done 80km today - she’d set off at 7:30 since it was so cold in her tent! And I was barely out of Strasbourg. She’d not met many people, and found the road from Basel dull going… We mocked the French a while, with their French snobbishness. She told me that she was extra sure to give the French a big smile to see what they did, and I elected to try the same. […] I decided to stop here for some quick food as it was warming up, and she’d not really enthused me about the ride ahead, and she agreed to join me :) We parked the bikes, took our jackets off, sat on the grass between the canal and the path, and I got the stove out. Over a tuna-road-soup (which turned out quite tasty despite running out of pepper), we spoke about all sorts, from staying in squats, to the CSers i’d stayed with (I gave her a couple of numbers), to politics, audiobooks for the road, bike maintenance, what passed through our minds as we rode - [redacted - only cycle tourists can know]. She asked about what I had to get back to, and we got chatting about the environment and nuclear power. She’s anti-nuclear, which I didn’t find out until after i’d evangelised a bit, but was courteous enough to listen and open minded enough to have some discourse. Not sure if I convinced her. We’re likeminded in not having much faith in humanity it seems. It had been really nice to meet such a fascinating person on the road, and the coincidence of her being Myriam’s friend was brilliant. I hope she has a good trip.”
Unfortunately, Fiona didn’t enjoy France and ended up giving up and getting a train home a few days later. This is a huge shame, and i’m sure she’d have enjoyed Germany much more.
“Fiona was right about the road, it was just a straight line along the canal, occasionally delimited by a bridge or a lock. But it was pleasant, sunny going, and this rubbed off on the locals, who it must be said were smily, and plenty of ‘bonjour’s were said.”
I have done 2^11 miles!
The bike computer was being very erratic this day, and I lost some mileage data. I later figured out that it was due to a combination of a low battery in my computer’s sensor/transmitter unit, and interference from the charge cable which you can see in this picture. I’ve got an external battery pack in the nosebag which is charging the speakers mounted to the steerer, and apparently this gives off enough EM to confuse the computer.
“Off the canal, onto roads, mountains loom on each horizon and the weather is doing some epic things. I spot the first sign of snow on the German mountains. Cool! In a little village, I stop at a little bar, where the tender doesn’t speak English, but I manage to get my bottles filled through a combination of English, German, and signs. Certainly not unfriendly this time. Okay, maybe France isn’t so bad!”
“I truck on down to the next village, following route 15 still, where Maps.me tells me there is a Lidl. Euro supermarkets are open until 8 right? I rock up at 7:30. Nope, just shutting. Same story at the other supermarket next door - ‘ferme’. The cashier doesn’t have any English, but her customer informs me there’s a Carrefour in the town, that shuts at 8. Heading into Vogelheim proper, not a big place, the streets seem empty. I ask a young guy ‘ou est la Carrefour?’… The language barrier is certainly a barrier, but not insurmountable. All ferme in this town he’s afraid, but there’s one open until 2200 (French and signed, je comprend) in Germany, just 5km. I consider making this dash, and it looks like there’s camping potential about too, but the old guy can’t have been deluded about Carrefour right? Checking Maps.me and searching, I find the Carrefour not in Vogelheim, but in Neuf-Brisach, the next village over. 0.6 miles, 7:40. Hell, if a good runner can do a mile in four minutes, i’m good right? Bolt up and i’m off. Neuf-Brisach, which looks interestingly laid out on the map, turns out to be a cool place surrounded by fortress walls, and I wouldn’t mind taking my time to explore sometime! It’s pretty and seems historic, and once i’m within the walls, is an attractive and pleasant little town. Right in the centre, I find the Carrefour and scoot right over. Two employees are smoking outside, and as I lock the bike, they speak to me - unfortunately they have no English - I think they might have been saying that I could leave the bike inside? Either way, my little French allows me to confirm that the place is open, and my body language clearly says hectic but friendly touring weirdo. […] Anyway, I dash in and zig-zag about the place, picking up some fresh meat and pasta for dinner, some fruit and cereal bars for the road, and a beer. One of the girls is at the checkout by the time I get there, and she’s fulfilling the more delightful of the French stereotypes… The language barrier almost becomes fun, and she’s infectiously warm to me. Yeah, not so bad, France!”
This mundane picture represents quite an adventure, which had not finished yet. Such a triumphant result of a battle to obtain calories was almost ruined when I found, halfway through cooking the meat, that my gas was almost empty. I’m not going to tell the story here, but irresponsible things were done, fire safety was neglected, and not long after dark I had a delicious hot meal and a smug sense of achievement.
Good, sensible touring cyclists find themselves a place to wildcamp a couple of hours before sunset. I am not a good, sensible touring cyclist. More often than not, i’d be putting the stove on just as darkness falls. Nonetheless, I found some brilliant spots to stay.
“Now it’s eight, and the sun drops low in the west. I sling the whole carrier bag onto the bars, and teeter off southwards finding decent roads to the next village. To the right there’s a dense young forest. This gives way to a farmer’s ploughed field, and looking back I spot an opening in the trees, partway back across the field. Zipping off the road, I push along the grass and occasionally through the farmer’s dirt, hoping that no cars who see me will care. Not many cars pass, thankfully. The opening leads to a pretty little grassy glade, with some muddier tracks leading off.”
“The route was not very interesting - lots of flat farmers fields, not much else. But the weather was glorious, and the views were spectacular - distant mountains on the horizons.”
These tourists were cheating, on electric bikes. But fair enough, it gets them out travelling, and I can’t help but enjoy the feeling of superiority.
There’s not too much to say about the scenery here. It’s pretty, but not so interesting. I was listening to an audiobook of Flatland to pass the time here. If you’ve not read/listened to it, I highly recommend it whether or not you are into maths.
“I stopped at a cafe next door for a coffee, and also got a blueberry pie at the recommendation of the friendly young attendant, who spoke the best English i’d heard from a Frenchman then. Local speciality apparently. It was really delicious - big generous portion with a load of whipped cream, and good coffee too. I chatted to him a bit about the tour, and learnt that he’d stayed in England for a bit, and was soon off to NZ/Australia to work and travel. Cool guy!”
“Journey passed without much happening. The way did get prettier as I went south, and the progress was easy enough. I tried crossing to Germany, but first time the bridge was a cycle-unfriendly motorway…”
I saw some really strange and cool vehicles through all of Western Europe, but I think this one was weirdest. Unfortunately they’d already passed before I reached the camera. It’s a five wheeled, articulated machine, he on the front rides recumbent, and she on the back rides recumbent and pedalling with her hands. ‘Ped-‘ means to do with feet, doesn’t it? Hand-alling perhaps? You get the idea.
“I crossed onto a huge hydro dam system on the Rhine, watched some works happening on a massive water gate, but then found that the next dam was closed off and so I couldn’t go to Deutschland this way.”
Serious Tonka Toys.
“Before heading south, I walked onto a bridge from where I could see all three countries, and also the bend in the Rhine. Pretty cool!”
The bike is in Germany here. A few meters to the right is France. Along the river, on the left side (in this picture) is Switzerland.
Well, i’m sitting outside a Lebanese restaurant in Oxford, thinking about cycling to Lebanon but about to move into a room here for however long. It feels like ages since these adventures happened, i’m in a very different place now, and the next few chapters really start to get interesting - a lot has happened since that bridge. I’ve enjoyed re-living Germany and France as i’ve been writing, and I hope it’s been an enjoyable read! Cheers to any intrepid reader who’s got this far with me.