19. July 14th - Training day.

It rained a lot in the night - there's a surprise- and although it wasn't raining when we got up at our customary time of about five thirty, it was fairly obvious that it was going to rain on and off all day. I would like to claim that this knowledge arose because we had become completely at one with the weather and her changing moods but I seem to recall that we had asked what the weather forecast would be the night before in the restaurant.

Fortunately the campsite had a very large kitchen area so we were able to pack our stuff away in the dry and could have our breakfast in relatively comfortable surroundings.

Through the conversation we had had with the two lads at the campsite near Frankfurt, and through looking closely at the map, it became obvious that the estimation of eight hundred miles for the trip was way off, and, even with leaving the Main and setting off across country, the whole trip would be nearer to one thousand miles. With having to get to Vienna by the 22nd July to meet Anthea and Hilary we realised that we could not cycle all of this and that at some point we would have to do some of the journey by train.

Due to the very grey sky and the gloomy forecast we decided that we should try to get to Regensburg on the Danube and continue our journey from there. From where we were the next big town was Wurzburg and, even with leaving the Main and cycling across country this was a good seventy plus miles away with no campsites in between. My only regret was that it had taken twenty four hours for it to sink in that we would have to take the train. If we had sat and thought about it we could have made the decision a day earlier and trained from Frankfurt to Nuremburg which would have been a much easier journey than the one we took- where we had to catch four trains- and it would have saved us a fairly damp day of cycling.

Anyway, as we paid at the campsite we [ Fred and Bruce], asked about the train station and were directed back to the town about three miles away. We got to the town, found the train track but could find nothing that looked remotely like a station. We decided to follow the railway track to the next town and, naturally, during the course of this ride the heavens opened and we got completely soaked.

The bikes, trying to find shelter at the first of the many stations we would visit on this day. Fortunately we managed not to  lose our temper throughout the day so none of our many stops could be described as the station of the cross. [ Sorry about that].

Fortunately almost every carriage on German and Austrian trains have a bike section. What is less fortunate is that there are usually very steep steps as you get onto the train and pushing very heavy, very wide, bikes onto the trains proved need at least two of us to perform the operation with any degree of competence and grace.

We bounced around on trains all day- we had to go back to Ashaffenburg, where we had been the day before and after spending a lot of time moving the bikes from platform to platform by going up and down in lifts, we finally reached Regensburg at about six o'clock in the evening.

Fred, probably humming 'Homeward Bound' to himself during our long, traincentric [ new word], day.

We arrived in Regensburg and the sun was shining- a rare and welcome sight. The town itself is well worth a visit and Saturday night in Regensburg is obviously party night. The town was alive with people dressed either as knights, medieval peasants and other assorted characters from the middle ages. Even at that relatively early time [ six o'clock, not the middle ages], the town was in full swing with live music by the Danube and every bar and beer garden full of ye olde worlde revellers.

I'll put more about the town tomorrow but the town did suit the party goers and the medieval theme  in that it seemed to have any number of squares surrounded by brightly painted old buildings and churches as well as an impressive cathedral with what can only be described as pepperpot spires.



The only photo I've got of the cathedral- you can just make out the two spires.

The nearest campsite was about three miles out of town and at first we passed it without realising it was a campsite. It was the Regensburg Canoe Club and they were having a club evening with a barbecue, a bar and games and activities. We cycled on to the site and were met very warmly, pitched our tents, had an excellent shoulder of pork steak for just four euros.

 All in all a good end to what had been a long day travelling

18. July 13th- Rain on the Main.

I emailed Bruce to ask him if he wanted to put anything on the blog. He very graciously said that Fred and I were doing a good job and he trusted us to put in all the salient details. He did end his email with this message which encapsulates what it was all about.

'

' I won't add add to the details of the trip but I would like to say there is something
magic  in travelling when you do not know where you will be that night, you don't know what's around the next corner, it's like being a child again everything is new,
life is not so programmed.
                               life can still be an adventure
                                    Here's to getting about.
                                                                     Bruce.'

Unfortunately we didn't get about that morning because it was raining. They served breakfast on the campsite so we ate indoors and hoped that the rain would stop- which it eventually did. However, waiting for a break in the weather meant that we didn't set out until 10.20- a late start.

Unfortunately the weather had second guessed us and we spent 28 miles cycling, getting wet, sheltering under bridges and even going across a bridge to gain some shelter from the rain because we thought, with the wind in the direction it was, we might get some shelter from the trees on the other bank. good in theory but we seemed to get equally wet whatever side of the river we were on.

After twenty eight sodden miles [ read that however you will], we ended up in the large town of Aschaffenburg where we did our usual trick of finding an upmarket cafe and sitting outside lowering the tone as we had coffees, hot chocolates and pastries.

This was on one of the bridges we cycled over to try to negate the effect of the rain bearing wind. I took the photo because of the padlocks that you can just make out on the figure. Apparently there is a custom that, if you declare your undying love for someone you seal this by putting a padlock on the bridge and then throwing away the key. The bridge in Cologne is reputed to have a million locks upon it. So many, in fact, that engineers had to do a study to see if the weight of the padlocks were damaging the structure of the bridge.I am unaware if there has also been a study of apprehensive suitors diving into the river to try to retrieve keys to unlock the padlocks.

After our customary lowering the tone exercise we set off and were blessed with a good run in the sunshine- it's amazing how this does raise the spirits. However this didn't last and we did another thirty two miles in sunshine and rain. It was fairly late when we reached a campsite in Borberg just outside Freudenberg. This didn't have catering facilities but there was a restaurant just outside the campsite gate. I forget what we ordered but it came with salad from a salad bar. As ever, we were given small plates to put the salad on and so I piled up my plate, ate the salad and then piled up the plate again. Bruce was just about to do the same when the proprietress swiftly came to our table and told us we were only entitled to one plate of salad. Luckily, I had defeated the system but Fred and Bruce were not so lucky.

I think I proved Gordon Gecko right, 'Greed is good.'

And so to bed after a fairly damp day.

17. July 12th- Mainz to Frankfurt and the biggest bike shop in the world.

July 12^th.

We woke early after a night of heavy rain which lasted for some time.  The weather was dry at the start of the day, and so we packed up the wet tents and started on the road again.  Well, we were somewhat delayed because Fred decided to add some air to his back tyre, and the whole valve came away, deflating the tyre completely. Fred and the tyre were both deflated.  Bruce’s help was again invaluable and he replaced the inner tube with the spare, the bike was packed up again and we really did leave about 20 minutes later.

It was good to pick up the route in minutes again, and we were soon on our way to Mainz.  This turned out to be our best day’s cycling, with a total of 68.76 miles, and we were helped by a noticeable tail wind.  The weather was changeable, though, with quite heavy showers interspersed with warm sunshine; we made a few stops to either put on or take off waterproofs.

The breakfast stop was at Bingen, famous for the early sacred music of Hildegard of Bingen and for the fact that Fred lost a sock there.  After that, it was a clear run to Mainz, where we stopped to have Bruce’s bike looked at – the pedals and gears were making an unaccustomed noise.  Sheltering under a bridge whilst the usual rain squall hammered down gave us chance to look at the map, but in fact we found a massive bike shop on the outskirts, which made things simpler for us.  It was a huge, modern steel and glass building reminiscent of John Lewis at Milton Keynes, with an indoor track for customers to ride the bikes they were thinking of buying.  Bruce’s bike was dealt with almost immediately, and half an hour later as ready to continue.

 Bruce's bike had been making a 'clonking' [ technical term], noise and so stumbling upon, what to us, seemed like the biggest bike shop in the world was a real blesssing.

During this time, we partook of luncheon at a nearby Burger King, completely out of our depth with the ordering procedure and the mores of fast food, none of which was due to the fact that this was in Germany.  We ate, though, and set off again confidently following the route we’d used to get into Mainz until we came to another of those bike direction signs which made things more obscure.  This time our German shepherd came shooting by like Father Christmas on a bike.  He was great, another of those people that saved us miles – and hours.

We re-traced our journey to the bike mega store and from there went through the town until we reached a huge bridge to cross the river.  By now, we’d had issues with all of the bikes and assumed that would be it, even though Fred’s computer, brand new for the trip, indicated that his bike needed a service.

From the bridge you could see the confluence of the Rhine and the Main, after we crossed the bridge we said goodbye to the Rhine [ we don't think it noticed], and said hello to the Main, a far gentler, more sedate river.

We carried on in the same positive way and reached Frankfurt in the late afternoon.  There was a sense of prosperity, purpose and success.  It was fascinating to see a major city beginning to relax at the end of the working day, and the cycle way became a broad promenade, with joggers, roller bladers, cyclists and walkers all enjoying the early evening sun.

As ever, even with maps showing campsites, we managed to miss the first campsite and, as we were heading out of Frankfurt, we asked someone if there was a campsite ahead. This person said he didn't know but, just as we were about to pedal off, a jogger who had passed us, turned around and told us that he had overheard our enquiry and there was a campsite about five Km ahead on the track we were on- as we said, our German shepherds almost popped out of the ground to help us.

We reached our campsite at Offenbach early enough to put the tents up before we ate.  We met a couple of young English lads who were doing our route in reverse, and they warned us that following the cycle way along the river would take us on a loop which would need two days to complete.  Food for thought, since this would seriously affect our arrival date.

Speaking of food, we had a pretty good meal with a salad accompaniment and an unexpected liver dumpling, since we thought we’d ordered pasta.

 We were getting used of this sort of river view as we powered towards Frankfurt. This fairly random shot shows just how busy the Rhine is at all times.

 We skirted Mainz and took fleeting photos from the other bank of the Main . . . .

. . . . like this one.

                               A view of Frankfurt, confident and modern, at the end of the day.

We felt that this was a well deserved beer after cycling nearly seventy miles.

We then followed this up with another, equally deserved beer.

16. July 11th The Crazy Dreamers Progress

July 11^th  The Crazy Dreamers Progress

After our hearty breakfast, and confident that we had a stock of clean, dry clothing [this would become something of an obsession] we set off from Remagen and found another benefit in that the cycle route was only minutes away from the campsite.  We were on our way with the minimum of fuss and time wasted through needing to find the route.

We made good progress along the Rhine, which was becoming more attractive all the time.  We saw our first vineyards and noticed tourist boats as well as the ubiquitous barges as we cycled past Rudesheim and Koblenz.  At Koblenz we stopped to admire the mysterious statue of a chap we did not recognise at the confluence of two rivers. which I think were the Rhine and the Main. More focused research will clear up the uncertainty, and I’m sure will take place before too long.

We went through Koblenz, and regained the cycle path as soon as we could, arriving at a good place to eat – one of the few that understood what the word ‘salad’ actually means – and enjoyed a good lunch with both salad and goulash.

It was good that the lpace was so welcoming and comfortable, because we stayed there for hours.  Dave had had a puncture going through Koblenz, and Bruce fixed it, although we had to strengthen the repair.  This was after yet another heavy and prolonged shower came our way, and we sheltered under the canopy at the restaurant table.

We had another encounter with a cyclist slamming brakes on and asking if we were English.  Why were people doing this?  Our new friend turned out to be the ‘Geordie on a bike’ [geordieonabike.com] who was doing the same thing as us – cycling and camping – and had clocked up 3,000 miles in 7weeks, going through Holland and Germany and a loop that would take him back to Blighty the following week, provided he made the ferry he was booked on.  He was a good bloke, and we were beginning to notice the growing number of the  brotherhood - cyclists with panniers and a determined look, obviously working towards a target.

Eventually we continued on our way [we did 56.12 miles today, slightly below average, but the total set by the location of the next campsite] and admired the continuing views of the vineyards and the typically German towns nestling at the bank of the Rhine.  Passing the Lorelei rock was a bit of an unexpected pleasure, and we stopped for photos again.

The only frustrating part of this day was the fact that we were going down a very long slope, which should have been easy, but was in fact the very opposite because of a really strong headwind.  We stopped a couple of times, being overtaken on both occasions by a dedicated jogger who was obviously keeping up with our pace.

Nonetheless, we persevered and eventually arrived at our particular German town, Oberwesel.  It was a very attractive place with brightly coloured, well maintained buildings and a pretty pleasant campsite, even if there was no tumble dryer.

It had been a good day overall, apart from Dave’s puncture.  We were beginning to accept the fact that there would be rain at some point during the day, planned to make it coincide with our lunch stop.  We had made good progress overall, but were also realizing just how far this journey was going to be.

A really poor photo of Koblenz, complete with huge statue of unknown chap and confluence of rivers we’re almost sure we know.

Another photo of same- it's at the confluence of the Rhine and the Moselle. Apparently 'confluentes' is latin for merging and this is the derivative of the name Koblenz.

The statue is of Kaiser Wilhelm and was erected in 1897 sometime after his death. The statue was destroyed in 1945 by an Allied artillery  shell but the people of Koblenz ' wanted their old Emperor back'  and raised the money to have a replacement statue in 1953.

Note the Rhine cruiser in the foreground.

German town nestling

The repair job. Note the umbrellas in closed position – this wasn’t going to last.

Note also that Bruce is doing all the work and I have assumed a supervisory role.

Vineyards and the beginning of the difficult downward slope.

                        Vineyards and the difficult downward slope with Dave and Bruce.

It should probably be recognised that Dave, Bruce, and Fred have all been on a downward slope for some considerable time.

 

The Lorelei Rock.  Unfortunately we were too late for the sirens to try to persuade us to go for a swim.

Two more photos of the Loreley Rock. Apparently in the old Rhine language 'loreley' meant murmuring [ with todays increased traffic this can no longer be heard], and is probably the basis of the story of the singing maiden luring vessels and men onto the rocks. It is also the narrowest part of the river between Switzerland and the North Sea. It is on a bend and has a very strong current and underwater rocks. In 2011 a barge carrying sulphuric acid hit these rocks, blocked all traffic for days and two crew died. We were impressed watching these large cumbersome barges steering around the bend and fighting the current. The river at this point has navigation controls and these operate a one way system where barges do not cross at this point.

Oberwesel seen from the campsite

 This campsite was right on the bank of the Rhine, as was 'Bridgeview', but the location here was a little more scenic.

Setting up camp- you will note Fred just about to descend to the cellar.

Another view of the castle- this must have been built and added to over many years.

As we were going down the Rhine we surmised that there must have been a 13th or 14th Century edict that stated that every overhanging and commanding rock must have a castle, monastery, or some other impressive building erected upon it.



15. Wash day tips and random jottings.

We were quite proud of the fact that, despite the weather, we did manage to have clean shirts, tee shirts, socks and UNDERPANTS every day. However this wasn't easy and took a lot of pre planning and judicious washing and drying.

I had the foresight [ he writes modestly] to take a washing line and pegs, and we found novel ways of rigging up the line using the bikes and trees.

Notice the skilful way in which we used the line to brace the bike and use it to create a washing line to the tree.

Airing clothes on a bench- it's amazing how having something like a bench to aid unpacking and packing can raise the spirits.

The main disadvantage was that we often didn't get to a campsite until way after seven so even if it was a sunny evening [ unlikely], there just wasn't enough time to get clothes dry.

Because we were always against the clock we had to devise different methods of getting drying our washing.

We found that in good conditions hanging the underpants from the handlebars as we bowled along was a highly effective method of drying them out. Perhaps it wasn't the coolest look in the world and one that I have yet to see Chris Hoy and Bradley Wiggins use, but it was effective and, as long as the pants were packed away at the first sign of rain, it did ensure clean, dry underpants for the next day.

Socks, shorts and towels were often tied to the panniers and turned every few miles or so to ensure that they aired and dried in the sun?! and wind.

 Socks tied on ready to wave gently in the wind.

Iif there is a next time I shall take only dark coloured underpants- they are less obvious.

Obviously a good drying day- two pairs of socks and a pair of shorts.

Of course, finding a campsite with a washing machine and a tumble dryer did help but these were few and far between.

In Fred's entry I alluded to the German diet and how a constant menu of meat followed by more meat leads to desire for salads and fruit. Luckily we did find cafes and restuarants who did decent greek salads and suchlike but ordering a salad did not always guarantee a lot of greenery.

This is a photograph of a salad [ yes, you read that right], that I had at an Austrian campsite. I had eaten the two lettuce leaves and the half tomato that covered this plate of sliced sausage. This photo was taken after I had eaten half the sausage that was on the plate and I just couldn't face any more.

If the cold war still had Europe in its paranoid grip then the three of us would have developed the question and answer to sort out friend from foe- Fred has already given you the code by which Crazy Dreamers can identify each other.

' Good morning comrade, tell me what are bridges?'

' Why comrade, everyone knows that bridges are our friends!'

Sheltering with two other cyclist.

The bikes in their customary position.

As the trip developed we all got into our own little rituals and routines. We noticed that other cyclists also had their set routines when they arrived in the evening and packed away in the mornings.

Over a period of time we each set up our tents in a certain way and then packed away and put things into panniers in a set order.  We gradually  developed a way of doing things that made life easier and then these became a habit so that we could set up and pack away without thinking.

Sleeping bag on the right, panniers on the left, headtorch and phone in my sun hat next to my head. Couldn't get a standard lamp in to make it cosier.

14. Fred's thoughts from abroad- July 10th.

July 10^th.  More like it.

It was not difficult to leave the Freunde der Natur site, ultimately voted the worst site of the trip, with nul points. The weather was better, and after a refreshing cup of fruit tea, we set out.  Our perambulations near Leverkusen the previous evening in the somewhat confused search for the campsite had a benefit in that we were ready for some of the signs that would get us through and eventually out of the town.

We were helped by another German shepherd as we perused the map yet again and we followed a good path until we cam to a T junction with no clear message as to which way we should go.  After making a decision which seemed to be more and more false the longer we rode, we asked for directions and our next shepherd mentioned we were not far from a ferry!! – one of those things we used on numerous occasions on the Rhine, Main and Danube, but this one got us on the side of the river we wanted and put us on the Rhine cycle way. We met a young German cyclist and struck up conversation with him and his helpful English, finding out that he was going to a Biergarten in Bonn – which happened to be on our way.

We were feeling very happy – the sun was shining, there was no rain, we were warm and dry and bowling along the Rhine in a way that we all imagined the whole trip would be like.  Even so, we ended up in the early afternoon sheltering under a bridge [with other cyclists] to let a heavy shower pass by.  Dave had taught us the mantra that ‘bridges are our friends’ and this one confirmed how true the mantra was.  [ Dave also came up with a solution to every tight corner or dispiriting moment we had – ‘Let’s find somewhere nice to have a drink’ he would say.  Worked every time.]

We passed through Cologne, and it was great to see the cathedral spires get ever closer.  Not only were we making progress [60 miles today], but we had passed through a major landmark.  We even had time to stop for photos, postcards and an ice cream, and the memory of the torrential rain began to recede somewhat.  We were looking smooth on the broad promenade by the river, when a couple on cycles came powering up, explaining that they were Mexican – were we English?  We never understood what made him ask the question, but assumed it was our nonchalant air of relaxed confidence, and subtle dress sense.  He wanted to know if we knew any good cycle routes, so we suggested a couple.

The inefficiency of the German signage unfortunately came back into play, and we were again left looking at road signs and fearing a repeat of the Dusseldorf experience when yet another German shepherd came to our rescue, suggesting we double back and take a turning we hadn’t even seen.  At this point we met our young German cyclist friend again, whose progress to the Bonn Biergarten had been scuppered by the same problem with signs, and we took some comfort from our shared fate.

Once on the right path again, we kept up good progress, still mesmerized by the size of the barges powering up the Rhine against a remarkably strong current. It was a statement of the purposefulness – and success - of German industry, much like the countless freight trains we saw.  The river was still muscular and powerful, but we noticed that we were riding into a more mountainous landscape, which was attractive and intriguing.

We continued with these thoughts past Bonn, and kept up a good pace to reach our next campsite at Remagen.  We were aware of a film ‘The Bridge at Remagen’, and saw a huge railway bridge across the river, a remaining track from the two that had originally existed, since the other had [like our very own railway bridge] been destroyed in the war.

The now customary stops to ask local people directions to the campsite led us to what was at least one of the best we had – a complete change from Leverkusen.  The showers were wonderfully warm and copious, the cubicles spacious and it had – a tumble dryer, luxury of luxuries.  Our early morning routine included a load of washing and having it dried before we set off.  Those who have camped/hiked/cycled over a period of time will appreciate just what a delight that was.

A final mention must go to the lady at the restaurant, who had closed before we turned up through lack of custom before we arrived with our sorrowful eyes.  She opened up to serve us drinks and chocolate bars and then provided us with a great breakfast the day after.  Her kindness was very much appreciated.

Dave gives his own verdict on Dordrecht

The rain on Day 3 – welcome to Germany!

 Dave looks determined . . . .

. . . whilst Bruce is philosophical

Dry and warm again.

Who pays the ferryman?

We approach Koln

Lunch is served – Guten Appetit!- I [Dave] found that the German diet of meat, cream and pastry left me craving for fruit, greenery in any form and fish. Luckily, and with an effort, we did manage to balance our diet- I could see a situation occurring where we would arrive in Vienna with excellent muscle tone and scurvy at the same time.

‘

‘Bridges are our friends’

Moving away from the industrial heartland

Gets better

The memorable breakfast at Remagen.

13. July 9th - not a good sign.

We woke up from a night at the 'Bridgeview' campsite. The low hum of the Rhine barges and the rattling of the trains overhead meant that we were up at about four o'clock. After a less than hearty breakfast of cereal bars and dried apricots and a bit of a freshen up using wet wipes- we forsook a dip in the Rhine- we set off on our tour of industrial Germany.

We started to cycle at about half past six, just as the lorries and heavy traffic were streaming out from the factory gates. This just reinforced our impression from the night before of purposeful activity. Good to witness but not so good to cycle through.

A real frustration throughout the day was that the signs were uniformly poor- they would take us so far and then disappear or they would send us on huge loops and deposit us in the middle of nowhere- or the middle of towns [ which was worse].

Reassuringly, throughout our trip we spoke to a number of  German cyclists  and they all remarked upon the poor signage and many of them recounted stories of being sent in the wrong direction due to inadequate and hard to follow signs- this made us feel a lot better.

We did our early morning tour of factories and industrial plants and eventually ended up in a small village called Serm. There was a bakery that also served coffee- we found this to be a good combination throughout the trip- so we stopped for a very late breakfast. The bakery staff and regulars seemed fascinated by these three Englishmen who had appeared out of nowhere.

Fred and Bruce engaged the people there in conversations and I continued in my role as their mute and grinning friend. When they knew we were going to Vienna one fairly elderly- he was older than us so he must qualify as fairly elderly- regular pointed to a plane flying overhead and said that he would wave to us as we returned home.

Some time later when we were engaged in our regular activity of trying to find the Rhine the same elderly gentleman appeared on his bike and told us to follow him and he would take us to the Rhine footpath- which he did. All through the trip we met people who went out of their way to help and direct us. The  uncanny thing was that these people would almost appear out of nowhere and offer help and advice. This usually happened when we stopped and looked lost and confused - a look that we perfected over the two and a bit weeks of the trip. These kind Germans appeared so regularly that in the end we gave them the collective noun of German Shepherds.

We enjoyed a ride along the side of the Rhine until we reached Dusseldorf. Here we met a sign directing us away from the Rhine and through Dusseldorf. We followed the signs to the outskirts of the city and then the signs disappeared. This left us cycling on the roads through the middle of the city. Without panniers this would have been daunting. With panniers and all the other weight it was an experience that certainly sharpened the senses but one that none of us would care to repeat. At times we had to move into the middle lane to keep to the main road, we had to stop and start at lights and take off with without wobbling, tram lines and parked lorries had to be avoided and whoever was at the front couldn't afford to look behind to see if the other two were still following.

We made it through to the other side but the signs still didn't direct us back to the Rhine. We spent most of the afternoon bouncing from one town to another and resolved to go to a forest campsite that was signposted as we left the town of Held. We set off on a long straight road but Bruce, using his compass knew that we were not heading in the right direction. When we got to a junction we got back on the road that should take us to the campsite. After reaching the town and getting lots of conflicting advice we eventually found the Fruden de Natural campsite about ten miles outside of Leverkusen.

This was a campsite where there was no hot water, the showers worked on a token that gave you a two minute burst of tepid water and, because it was miles away from anywhere we  had to eat there and the dish served was a bratwurst sausage with two dry slices of stale white bread- thrilling.

All in all we had only done about forty eight miles, had felt that we had made no real progress and ended up in a cheerless campsite- fortunately the days got a lot better than this and we knew that the maps we had for the next few days were much better than the ones we had been using.

One bright spot was that although my first repair on the tent did not work I then used a teaspoon as a splint held on by duct tape and this repair held for the rest of the trip.