Entlang der Donau…
Saturday 10 August
What a day! It started at 3am with the entire household waking up and getting ready for their next move. We wished one another safe trips and promised to see one another again in the winter and before we head back to what now feels like a far, far away place. Vero and her crew were getting ready for a 10 hour drive back to Noordwijk and we were getting ready to catch the 5:45am to Schauffhausen. We all left the house at 5am, leaving Xavier’s dad in a bit of a spin.
With the light drizzle that was falling, the street lights twinkled in the darkness and the rain added a somber tone. The reality of when we would next see this place kicked in as did the reality that we have just started the most demanding part of our trip. The next time we see this place won’t be until late November, early December – all going well. It will be winter and be a very different place. Much shorter, cooler days with the flowers and greenery giving way to hibernating twigs.
We made it to the train some 10 minutes before departure which was perfect. We were able to take in the neon Pinta Cura, by Frederic Post at Cornavin, which greeted us at the entrance of the train door. Most of us slept with the exception of Xavier. We watched the sun yawn and stretch, making its way slowly out of bed but the doorbell rang shortly after he put his slippers on. It was clouds that came to pay a visit and decided to stay for breakfast. The sun really didn’t get the day going until closer to 4pm by which time we were already in Radolfzell, Germany.
We changed trains at Zurich and then made our way to Schauffhaussen in good time. We arrived at 9:45am and went straight to the Rhinefalls which was tumultuous, romantic and noisy. With all the rain that had and continued to fall, the falls seemed to swell and be frothing at the mouth. The water spray from the falls themselves and the falling rain made for a mesmerising air dance. Like nomads, we made sandwiches under a shelter while we waited for the rain to subside and then took a vote about which way we should go. The democracy determined that we take the EuroVelo 6 route and pay a visit and take a dip in the Bondesee, otherwise known as Lake Constance.
Before leaving Switzerland we paid a visit to the very pretty town of Stein am Rhein. What must it be like to grow up around this type of urban setting? It is so rich that everything else must seem bland or at least very superficial in comparison. The artist’s hand is everywhere, much to the architect’s delight. Enchanting. Other worldly. Fairytale like.
We crossed the boarder into Germany and while it might sound like a cliche, the moment we arrived there was a constant string of techno coming out from the forest. We stopped and picked wild blackberries and yellow mirabelles and started using our very basic words of German. Funnily enough words started coming back to us and we were starting to really have fun with it. Xavier and Lisa stopped by a roadside gemuse and orbst shop and there we began. We were further challenged in the shopping centre but then the best part was when we got to the camping ground. We managed to engage at the reception in German. Between Xavier and Lisa, we actually understood a fair bit. The boys were very attentive and you could see they were itching to have a go. We’re really glad to be here. The drivers also seem to be a great deal more respectful of cyclists. It was only once in Germany that it became obvious how few elderly Swiss people commute on bikes. There were a great more people on bikes.
We had a very German dinner with dessert. Sauerkraut, kasewurst, gemuse und kartofel then for dessert, cooked apple, wild mirabelles, prunes, figs, honey and cinnamon. Delicious!
Sunday 11 August
The day started out like most – packing the tents, a bowl of much loved warm tea and a bowl of cereal. The boys went for a swim in the Bodensee. Then, as it was almost time to load the bikes, Lisa’s lower back gave in. Overcome by a panic and fear of not being able to continue or having to go back to Geneva, Lisa scoured through the medicine bag and self-administered pain killers followed by a therapeutic excercise session in the Bodensee with its clayey floor, all the time remembering her doctor’s words – ‘Keep moving. Staying still is for the dead or dying’. After a few stretches and a redistribution of weight, everyone was back on their bikes. The boys equally sharing Lisa’s load which had a marked impact on their riding style and of course speed.
We rode through very pretty forest landscapes and had a pre lunch picnic in front of the small, hot and deserted Orbstingen Rathaus where we treated ourselves to a German version of prosciutto, essentially a smoked piece of raw pork. Thinly cut it was a delight. After another round of painkillers for Lisa, we were back on their bikes heading for Tüttlingen which we were hoping to get beyond but given the circumstances, will just have to do.
We climbed some four hundred metres over a fairly long distance making it a slow unrelenting ascent. Difficult for the boys. Lisa was so high on painkillers that she wasn’t feeling much. We stopped again 10kms out from Tüttlingen to have a more extensive lunch which certainly helped lighten the load.
We kept crossing paths with another family who were riding with their handicapped teenage son. We kept seeing them and then eventually when we were riding alongside one another we started to learn about each other. Every year they’ve been riding the EuroVelo route 6 in the hope of one day being able to finish at the Black Sea. The woman carried all the gear in a cart trailing behind her which looked heavy. The father was on a tandem bike with their son who was about 60 odd kilos. As we spoke, the sounds coming out of the boy suggested an inner peace, a curiosity, a liveliness, much to his parents delight who encouraged his expressions with loving smiles and tender caresses. It was beautiful to watch. The parents were no longer parents but gods. Their supple ageing bodies had the strength of oxen and the expanse of their love captured every heart within their field. We continued to ride together given we were heading in the same direction. Listening to the words and sounds of encouragement, excitement and fun being exchanged as we collectively rode up a hill was very touching. No fear from these gods. Father and son ripped down a hill at an incredibly speed much to the son’s delight. The father confronted the cruelty of the uphill proud on his bike, coasting and pushing with legs and arse of steel. An amazing performance to watch. They were awesomely, simply, beautiful.
We parted ways as we arrived in Tüttlingen. They were heading to a hotel and we ended up in a fully blown BMX and skateboarding competition that was taking place in the camping place. The boys were bowled over! The camping ground was like a teenage bedroom with everything all over the floor and in total disarray. We decided that we weren’t going to sleep the night there because it would be impossible to sleep with a party going on. It was late, everything was closed given it was Sunday and we couldn’t buy any supplies for dinner. We had dinner at one of the few places open – a local Italian restaurant. As we ate, it poured, and we were wondering where and how the hell we were going to get the tent up in this weather.
We took shelter on a bridge over the Danube while we waited for the rain to stop. This second longest river in Europe that nourished the Neolithic, served as a frontier for the Romans and serviced all those who have lived along its banks ever since. Its source is not far from here, which is why we are here, although we don’t need to go to its source. We will get to know it very well by the time we reach Vienna. Mesmerised by the falling rain into this legendary river, the call was made « Now! » We bolted back to the camping ground which we said we weren’t going to sleep in and it was almost completely empty. Not a single skater in sight, but one two man tent thrown up against a tree trunk and filled with rubbish like a huge garbage bag!
A team effort made sure that the tent was up in record time to make sure the inner layer would be as dry as possible before the next downpour. We learnt that putting tarps under a tent in these conditions is best done when the inner tent layer is ready. Two people hold the inner layer while two others place the tarp and then the inner layer is put straight on it. This approach makes sure that water doesn’t collect on the tarp, ultimately wetting the base of the inner tent lining that the air mattresses rest on.
Before going to bed, Xavier had one of his “I’ve lost my keys!” paralysing, psychotic, freakish moments. Only this time, it wasn’t his keys that he was worried about, it was the bag with all our passports in it. The experience was acute. He thought he forgot the bag at the restaurant. Completely possessed, he bolted out of the tent without checking his other bags first, mounted his bike with lightening speed, dried the rain that fell on him as he ripped through space and time heading for the restaurant. By this stage, the boys were wide awake and we all sat up in our tents waiting to find out if we had lost our identities or not. He came back empty handed and finally found what he was looking for in the other bike bag that had been with us the entire time. It was eventually a quiet night except for the noise of the local wildlife who in the middle of the night went through the garbaged tent with tenacity and fervour.
Monday 12 August
Lisa is taking time out to write from the shower cubicle of Tüttlingen campingplatz this morning because her lower back, which although hasn’t stopped her, is still needing painkillers. We rode through naturally dramatic, romantic, sweeping, willowy, lethargic, green scenery today from Tüttlingen to Sigmaringen. The German classicists, romantics, chivalrous, idealists and heroes seemed to be with us at every turn. Each time, a new composition of sheer rocks faces, wild grasses, mountains, wild flowers gracefully pushing out and on show between cracks in the rock, castles perched up high on the edge of cliffs surveying the Danube below. We were surprised by the variety of fish found in the Danube, at least 20 different species captured on panels along the track. The landscape looked like what a Wagnerian piece might sound like. Dangerously beautiful. To be approached with caution particularly paying attention to the falling rocks from above.
As we rode, we met a middle aged man who woke up feeling fat that morning and decided to get on his bike and just keep going. He looked like he was going to the grocery store, but he explained to Xavier, who was having no trouble at all with the German language, that he doesn’t know when he’ll return. As we were approaching Beuron, we decided to visit what looked like a monastery of some sort.
As it turned out, it was the Beuron Archabbay a key place for the Benedictine Order in Germany. It was layered with an underground section having fabulous Byzantine style murals. We later found out that one of the founding monks, was a key player in the establishment of the Beuron Art School which Gustav Klimt was said to have been influenced by, particularly in the use of gold in murals. Léon discovered a doorway where he was practicing his singing voice which resonated beautifully and Xavier was inspired by the returns on a metal sculpture in the garden. There was magic for everyone. Oreste and Arsène took to the idea of lighting candles and Lisa was mesmerised by the flatness of upright nuns in a mural. The dark, quiet location was instrumental in savouring its soothing composition. There was a schizophrenic aspect to the church itself. On entering you are overwhelmed by the detailed, baroque design that covers the ceiling and walls. As you walk forward in a daze, your eyes fall on a strangely Byzantine style place of worship to the left that looks like it could have been lifted out of Bulgaria. The use of gold, jewels and painterly style of the murals was so far removed from what we had just passed. The juxtaposition of the two styles was strangely mysterious.
As we rode we pondered our Benedictine style of living that we’ve unknowingly adopted. Lunch was at the base of a very green deep dark valley by the road side. We were running short on supplies so pulled out everything we had including chocolate. “Yes!” Said the boys.
When we arrived in Sigmaringen, Oreste and Lisa went to do the shopping for dinner while the others set up camp. They got lost in a huge store and were also a little lost as to what it was they were buying. Xavier would have certainly been better placed. All those years of growing up in a school system learning German as well as French had clearly had a much greater impact than imagined. It was all coming back very quickly for him.
Xavier and Lisa had a not very Benedictine like argument while cooking dinner although that soon gave way to a much more interesting conversation with a single German woman travelling on bike. She made us dream with her plans of retiring in a few years and like our companion who woke up feeling fat this morning, she too would just head off in one direction. This trip and others like it was her way of preparing for this next stage of her life.
After dinner and just as we were getting ready for bed it bucketted down. The clouds were heavy and it was certainly not hiding the fact the it was going to rain, yet in our fatigue, preoccupation and focus on the minutiae, we were caught completely off-guard. We stupidly left our bags open which meant that our belongings got wet. The boys left their books and pencil cases on a table elsewhere which of course got soaked. We spent the next hour or more wiping things down, airing wet things in the open knowing fully well that it could rain again. All of this at sunset, which continued into what eventually became darkness. With head lamps on, we had to pick up the tents, wipe down the tarps that had collected water wetting the tent floor because the edges weren’t folded underneath the slopping sides of the tent after the pegs went in. A crappy way to end a day that started out in a utopian landscape. A different type of rock fell from above. Funny that. Oreste recounted and added to his list of all the languages he now speaks including milan, buzzard, starling, goose, goat and duck.
Tuesday 13 August
We left Sigmaringen and rode to Heuneburg which is where the largest archeological Celtic site was found. The experience was great, particularly as far as contemplating the strategic site selection and the quality of the buildings. The logs cut in quarters to produce steps was simply beautiful. On a clear day you can see the Alpes. The biggest problem was that everything was written in German. We rode on, passed Reidlingen while Oreste made a number of interesting observations about place, birds and directions. Léon took the initiative himself tonight to do maths homework.
On arrival into the camping ground, Lisa was reminded that naivety and trust can turn you into dog meat. We began looking for camp site options. In one area, not far from the toilets, there was clearly an orgy about to take place in a small cluster of the only other tents. Fuelled by alcohol, noise and bare skin, the young girls were downing bottles of promise and the young guys downing bottles of indulgence blanketed by the repetitive music thrusting them into action.
Searching for some distance, the path led to an open field. The opening was small and blocked by a van. Without too much thought or rather innocent thoughts that someone else was doing the same thing, Lisa made her way into the open field.
The moment Lisa showed up from behind the parked van, two young German Shepards dogs locked on and started bolting towards her. From a distance they looked like grown puppies but the closer they got the more ugly they became. In their eyes she was nothing more than dog meat. In a suspended, surreal moment of disbelief, Lisa locked eyes with one on the dogs. The growling seemed doubly strange. A bark would have almost been more normal. It was a robotic thing. Machine like. The middle aged trainer shouted. The dogs stopped. Lisa had her hands up like she was about to be shot. This man had complete control over these dogs and an ability to make them do whatever he wanted. The efficiency of his command was chilling. He was annoyed. Lisa didn’t understand his words but understood the scorn on his face which suggested that in another time or place, he may not have said anything at all.
Lisa went in search of the boys who were in another world – happily setting up on another side of what was a circular camp ground. It felt like a concentrated circle of Dante’s.
They had found a nice little section and struck up a conversation with a lovely couple of French travellers form Colmar. They had travelled from the direction we were heading in, although had gone as far as Budapest. Like guides, they offered words of advice and warning. Including where we could find the fabulous lightweight chairs they had to rest their tired bodies.
As we talked, a van – another one – arrived and before we knew it, a hot air balloon was being set up.
The night ended sourly with Lisa and Xavier arguing the time of and method for cooking dinner. Léon summed up the stupidity of such a feverish argument when he said – “They’re arguing because maman cooked the chicken first.”
Wednesday 14 August
After another lovely chat with our fellow travellers and guides from Colmar, we were headed for Ulm. Today is the first day in three without drugs for Lisa. The best thing was to be on her bike. We stopped in Ehingen to install a new kickstand on Lisa’s bike which bent in Geneva, fixed Léon’s front brakes and bought some break handles. It was an opportunity for a superficial all round bike service including pumping tyres.
We continued to ride pretty fast with the wind spurring us on. We made it to Ulm fairly early meaning there was time for homework, and a catch up on emails which was unfortunate because Lisa learnt of the passing of her elderly Aunty in Castel Gandolfo, Zia Almerinda. Lisa was looking forward too seeing her in September.
Tomorrow morning we will enter into the city of Ulm and keep making our way to Regensburg. We don’t need to be in Vienna until 27 August so it’s good to know that we have a little flexibility with kms each day.
Thursday 15 August
It’s been a challenging few days with the weather oscillating between 35 and 17! Rain, then sun burn. Somewhat schizophrenic and hard to plan for. Rode into Ulm. Bought a new pillow. Went to visit the tallest cathedral of Europe, which we found out was Protestant because when we asked for the Santiago de Compostela passport, as suggested by our friends yesterday, we were told we had to go to a Catholic Church.
On arrival to the Catholic Church, Lisa’s German was so bad that the priest asked her which language she spoke. He then asked another person to translate but he himself was having trouble communicating from French to German. Then another person came up and started speaking in English and told us that the office was closed for the holidays and that he didn’t have a key so couldn’t issue us the passports.
We thanked them nonetheless for their perseverance and on our way out the priest gestured for Lisa to follow him. Told to wait at the door, he emerged from what was clearly a special place, with a candle. This candle had an image of the Catholic Church we were at. It was made clear, without language, that he had entrusted us to deliver it to Santiago de Compostela.
Arsène and Lisa left feeling like we were now on an entire new mission! Humbled by the gesture, we realised that we have to surmount all challenges ahead and deliver on the faith he put in us to reach our destination. The weight of the next few months was made heavier, yet enjoyably challenging.
The leaves are starting to change colour. We’ll soon be experiencing Autumn. A few days ago there were yellow leaves tucked into the thicker green canopy of the trees. Today, more and more browning of the leaves. Yesterday, yellow leaves were starting to fall. The contrast with the evergreen is starting to show.
We had 27kms left to get to Dillingen which we thought we would do in about 2 and half hours but then the terrain flattened out and the wind was behind us. We were flying! With ease we overtook people who left the same campsite this morning. We really did feel we had wings on. We made it to Dillingen in 45 minutes where we had the time to organise our camping spot before we had a great and serendipitous meeting with Florian, Carmen, and their crew. We were able to relax, share a few more stories before saying adios amigos until our return to Geneva in December.
We learnt that everything was closed today because of the Ascension so we decided to have a delicious local dinner in the beer garden. We also learnt that a ‘Radler’ is the German name for a ‘panaché’ or ‘shandy’.
Friday 16 August
We left Dillingen at 10:30am. It took us ages for no other reason except that we didn’t have any breakfast and we were slower, more lethargic. We had to go into town and wait 25 minutes to be served very bland and dry pork and cheese rolls. We are so sick of meat. Today we will make our own salad sandwiches and tonight a vegetarian dinner. We rode some 60kms today all the way to Neuburg.
It was a challenging day on the road which was a great deal more undulating at some points to 20% inclines – short but seriously sharp! The worst part was when we had to re-route because of roadworks and we ended up on this road where almost every second driver was an absolute arsehole. At that point it became very clear that in fact the only reason the Germans seem more tolerant is because cyclists are on bike paths. The moment you’re off the bike path, you become a pest and they don’t give a shit how young or old you are. One driver drove so close, head on, into us at high speed. An unbelievable first.
To make matters worse Arsène was unrelentingly whining about the uphills and after putting up with days of him freely tossing insults to all of us and winding everyone up with his incessant gnawing, the rubber band snapped and unwound at lightning bolt speed. We well and truly lost our shit on this shitty road. A few minutes later we were descending at high speed. Xavier went over a bump and lost both heavy back bike bags, which ripped as they tumbled and streaked across the road..
We did nonetheless have a really nice lunch in front of a beautiful rock fountain covered in decades of moss, before connecting up with another couple also cycle touring. Just before arriving at the campground we had a mechanical issue. Arsène’s derailleur was playing up. Thank god for Xavier’s mechanical skills.
Saturday 17 August
Left one expensive and badly serviced camping ground for an even more expensive camp ground but there was a bit more behind the price for this one today. We arrived, asked if there was room. We we told definitely yes. When we asked the price, the old grumpy guy behind the counter seemed to either be out of his depth, having a memory failure or drunk. The lady behind the desk told us to come back later. Lisa went back after we had already set up, had a shower and started dinner and was charged a whopping 45 euros for one night. He refused to engage, took the money and that was that. When asked why it was so expensive, he just looked into his computer screen with arms folded. Xavier went and spoke to the woman who confirmed we had been charged more than the other campers. She tried to reason the elevated price but which ever way she went, it was clear that for some unknown reason, we had been ripped off.
The feeling in Inglostadt was fairly similar today – this city home to secret societies, the setting of Frankenstein’s creation and the place where Charles de Gaulle was held as a prisoner of war during WWI. While we were having lunch which we had bought from the local market, people were looking at us side ways. It was clear that there was room for only momentary tolerance. Our loaded bicycles were a symbol of our passing that made our presence bearable. Not a very welcoming nor friendly place. It’s a place where you feel that Germany is only for the Germans.
We travelled on to Neustadt and had the same impression. The couple we met from Colmar did warn us that many will take advantage of you. We didn’t believe it but have to admit that today’s camp ground experience made that clear.
We visited the Asam Kirche Maria De Victoria – a church with a baroque style. The wood work was a masterpiece in which you could easily loose yourself, before or after the wondrous paintings and sculptures. The tromp l’œil paintings on the ceiling was enough to absorb all your attention.
On our way out of Ingolstadt we bought new paniers for Xavier given the accident we had the other day and continued our way to Bad Gogging, where we could see there was a camping ground.
Xavier spotted a keramik studio as we were travelling, so we stopped and popped inside. The potter was lovely and very welcoming. He showed us around his studio, come exhibition space, come shop. It was very well laid out in a very low ceiling traditional space.
We ate fairly early and with the rain that came we were able to have our very first tent classroom which was great. We took Léon’s year 8 geography work as the basis to discuss our travels and experiences. The lived experience of the places we’ve been is magical when listening to the boys recount it.
Had to do enough shopping for tomorrow because everything will be closed.
Sunday 18 August
We left the camping ground at Bad Gogging without looking back and travelled to Regensburg via Kelheim and stumbled upon a spectacular ‘kloster’ in Weltenburg, which sits in the Danube gorge, filled with much of the beautiful dramatic scenery we’ve become familiar with in this part of Germany.
From the outside this Benedictine church looked like nothing special but the inside packed an enormous amount of emotion in such a small space. The density of ornate decorations was dizzying, the details were breathtaking. Voluptuous clouds carved out of sandstone, the spiralling geometrically placed weighty marble columns, the gold coated frames, and an oval shaped golden halo suspended overhead at the threshold between the main area below and of the heavenly scenery on the dome above. Cherubs and other figures held the halo in place, like a dream had been momentarily paused, looking down at you, as if waiting for you to press play so you can play your part in this dream. We lost ourselves in this deliriously loaded, sparkling, gushing, vision in all its extravagance. Bling bling of a solid kind, never experienced before. The opulent alter piece with St. George on his horse, the dragon and the woman all in the foreground of a pastel mural scenes on the walls behind. The colours, the shine, the textures designed to simultaneously declare and lull. A truly extraordinary visual and sensory experience. The overdose of perfection and beauty knocked you out and left an after taste of gloriously weakening nausea. An incredibly strange experience.
We rode out of this hilly but beautifully dramatic gorge over both the Danube River and the Kelheim-Essing. We marvelled at these two abundant rivers flowing so close to one another. On arrival into Regensburg, we were greeted by some doof doof music on its outskirts but it was just a group of young guys soccer training. The old town of Regensburg is very pretty but everything beyond it is very dull.
The boys made their own way back from the city after dinner. We had to eat out because no supermarkets were open. We rode along the Danube and were treated to seeing how the youth here spend their Sunday evenings – eating pizza, drinking wine, sharing moments of intimacy, smoking hookahs. It was good to experience the youthfulness in a country that feels it is dominated by tired old grumpy people, including the guy who runs this camping ground, although there was a touch of humour in there somewhere. We had to go around the entire house twice, knock on several doors to get acccess to the reception area and by chance we finally stumbled upon him. We asked if he was the person managing the camping ground to which he responded a very flat “yes”. When we asked whether we could stay the night, he sighed, looked at us and said that all he wanted to do was go home!
When we returned to our camp ground after dinner and everything seemed to be in slow motion. It seemed to take forever to get the tent up. But then again, it felt like it took forever to get into Regensburg today. The boys played a bit of volley ball while Lisa and Xavier got the tent up. In the back of the camp field a group of refugees had set up camp sometime ago and just wanted to keep to themselves. It was hot. In the high 30s.
This day was a good lesson in the psychology of fear for the boys. On our way into Kelheim they were reading a local map which suggested that the route we were going to take had steep climbs of 11%. As we were getting closer even the way finding signage for the Euro Velo 6 route indicated a red triangle suggesting a steep climb. The map and notice boards made it clear that you could avoid these steep climbs by catching a boat which departed from next to the kloster Weltenburg. After a little more research into the terrain we decided we were absolutely capable of doing it. There was a great deal of resistance from the boys when we were leaving the kloster. They were so afraid of the climb that they didn’t even realise we had done it. There were a few steep gravel climbs but really nothing in comparison to what we did in St. Ursanne nor what we will do in Slovenia, nor what we did in France. It was great to illustrate how we as humans are preconditioned and funnelled into a particular behaviour to serve whatever interests – in this case, the tourist dollar.
Monday 19 August
Taken hostage by the rain this morning. We knew the rain would come in the middle of the night so Xavier prepared the tents in such a way that we had access to all our bags and breakfast from the tent, all nice and dry. So while it rained outside, we packed up the interior and had breakfast. Lisa did her morning Peter Yannakis exercise routine and wrote a few words. We shared our dreams with one another, as has become usual and planned the day. We also made plans to frame maps of Japan, Taiwan and Europe with our route highlighted. We discussed the limitations of these tents but also their strengths, particularly the boys tent which has so far withstood Japan,Taiwan and this trip to date. Although, we are confident that they won’t be worth taking back to Australia by the time we finish in Santiago de Compostella. We will repurpose them somehow. Maybe clothes. Maybe artworks.
Waste on a trip like this is one of our biggest concerns. In fact Japan and Taiwan were much worse in that every food item had its individual plastic wrapping. In Europe you can avoid the plastic packaging, which we do. But sometimes it’s just not possible. Irrespective, we recycle everything. For example a lady in a boulangerie wrapped a box that had three merveilleux for the boys in a red gift wrap string. Lisa kept the red string and used it as a form of decoration while it waited to be reinvented. The other day as we were leaving Ulm Arsène’s arse protector had come unhinged. We needed a wire to keep it together, but in the absence of a wire, the red string came in handy. It’s still there. Lisa’s pillow that exploded has been recycled into the bag for the utensils. The bag Veronique delivered our clean clothes in while we were in Amsterdam, has remained our dirty clothes bag. Breakfast cereal bags are kept and folded to hold unpackaged fruit and veges or the honey jar or anything else that we need to make sure doesn’t leak in our bags.
The day started with brunch at the oldest restaurant in the world which was delicious; sausage, soup, potatoes, pretzels. As we rode we experienced the loud church bells and then came across a monster of a building in the distance perched up high on a hill. Our curiosity pulled us in that direction and eventually up the hundreds of stairs to Valhalla – the most kitch monster acropolis that some Bavarian king constructed and dedicated to German gods, although when you get in there you have the likes of Mozart, Beethoven, and Einstein. It was big and ugly, but said a great deal about how the Germans honour brilliance. Allowing individuals to shine and then embracing that into a national identity to call it their own, unlike the French for example who are more concerned with family ties or the Italians more concerned with gender and age scales. We did have a very quick lunch by a nicer, what felt like a wilder part of the Danube. There are less and less people on the EuroVelo. You get the sense that the school holidays are coming to an end. The boys are worried that people will question why they are not in school.
Lisa’s morale was low today. She’s really over it and starting to wonder if we’re ever really going to make it. Today we were treated to a performance. By a swarm of starlings that swooshed and flattered within earshot. It was fantastic to be caught up in their flight and to hear the sound of their collective flight.
It’s beer festival time. We were lucky to find a camping spot in Straubing.
Tuesday 20 August
Not much to report on today. We left one camping spot for another that is in Nesslbach. 60kms today. We rode in the drizzle which is easier than riding in the searing heat. Starting to feel they greyness of this place and really looking forward to moving further south, although the pockets of intoxicatingly perfumed, colourful wildflowers are so very much appreciated.
The boys again tested our patience with homework. We spent 45 minutes arguing about it before they actually started doing something and that was only because of the threat of doing four hours work every day when we return to Geneva to catch up on all the work they haven’t done during our travels. All of this while of course trying to get dinner ready and the tent set up before it starts to rain. They also won’t go to sleep when they can despite complaining how tired they are during the day. Anyway, homeschooling like this while on the road is definitely not for the faint hearted. It’s so easy to give in but that would be such a bad outcome not only for this trip but also for their attitude to school and the rest of their schooling. While cleaning up and packing away, we finished the geography lesson downloaded. Bed finally.
Wednesday 21 August
We left Nesslbach and headed for Passau which was only some 30kms away. We made good time and just as we were about to arrive and go explore Passau, Xavier’s gears gave in. At least the timing was good. We parked ourselves at Passau’s main station while Xavier and Léon had to back track a couple of kilometres to the bike shop to buy cables, while Lisa, Arsène and Oreste went to get local kebabs. Our little spot at Passau train station became a temporary bike mechanic workshop. Xavier had to completely dismount all his cables and start from scratch.
While Xavier worked, we watched, had lunch, watched a young guy get very angry with an older grumpy guy who must have said something about his Arab looks at which point the young guy pulled out his passport putting it right under his nose, while telling him where to get off. The old guy seemed to be bothered at being exposed looking sheepishly around him, while his equally old wife sat next to her husband huffing, puffing and cursing under her breathe.
After an hour or so, we were ready to go check out the centre of town. It’s a pretty little city with churches, ancient walls, baroque architecture and of course the largest organ in the world housed in the cathedral which although large and elaborately painted, it still is no match for the Ingolstadt and Weltenburg churches. What you don’t get from the postcard pictures is its tension. It’s hard to explain but fundamentally it feels like a place that is stuck in some reality it doesn’t necessarily want to be in, although that same tension seems to feed a great deal of creativity, Unsurprisingly, we saw lots of posters for music events of all sorts, bomber paste ups amidst plaques acknowledging Hitler’s time in the city as a resident in his youth and then as the vile person he came to be. Nazi sympathiser composers were also acknowledged on buildings, and graffiti found its place.
We decided at 3:30pm that we could take on another 20kms before dinner which means 20 less tomorrow. It was a very nice ride. This part of the Danube is stunning with its mountains cascading into the Danube, the wild flowers, the curving river. There are moments where you get a window into what it could have been thousands of years ago when the Neolithic travelled along what would have been a life giving river. There is a sense however of the horror that these forests must have represented for those fleeing nazi germany. It’s hard to imagine but knowing that Hitler and his family lived for a short time in Passau there remains a dark stain on this place’s beauty which nazis were vehemently scheming to protect from all others.
The summer snow fell upon us again today as it does on most days. Oreste’s outstretched hands trying to capture the magic. We are right next to the Austrian border tonight.
Thursday 22 August
We left Obernzell and made it to a camping ground just outside of Linz – Hoflein. 70kms today. We went to visit the Keramikmuseum which Xavier has been keen to get to since we were planning the trip. The ceramic pieces here definitely communicate a certain style and approach all of its own. It made us realise all the ceramic pieces that we had seen in japan and Taiwan and how like painting, they have a language unto themselves. This aesthetic was thicker, more solid, a great deal more grounded which is certainly less lighter and refined than the Japanese aesthetic. The choice of glazes, ornate design and style have a character all their own.
The ride from the German/Austrian boarder has been one of the most stunning from a forestry experience. It was the first time that we didn’t have shops we could buy lunch at for several kilometres. We ate everything we had left by the Danube in Niebulugen in the company of five white swans and and several wasps, which the boys were creating tantalising traps for so we could eat our lunch in peace. The wasps have really stood out in this trip. They are very present the moment there is food and have no fear. One even went on Oreste’s mouth.
We continued to Ascbach where we had our first Austrian shopping experience which obviously meant we bought a Gugelhopf for dessert. We made it to the camping ground and found that people were a great deal more interested in talking to one another and sharing stories, experiences and knowledge. We met a lovely year 10 teacher from Auckland who came over to speak to Lisa while she was trying to ring in the boys who were climbing all over the sinks where people were supposed to wash their dishes. Completely unhinged … We also met a Canadian urbaniste/activist and her husband who were collecting inspiring experiences to make positive green changes in their hometown. We bumped into a single rider that we met some weeks back when we first set off. It’s nice to reconnect with people.
We realised the strangeness of that feeling when the only constant are us and everyone else is just passing. The exchanges are fulfilling in different ways and no doubt friendships could be built but the nature of a cycling life means that all those exchanges are memorable, meaningful, defining, even if short. We’re running out of clean clothes so desperately need to do a machine wash tomorrow.
Léon rode some 7kms with one shoe off today. The skin on his feet are starting to react to the fact that he has been wearing shoes that he went into the river Doubs in Switzerland even though we told him not to. Consequently, his feet are giving off the strongest, most foul odour which holds us all hostage when we’re in our tents.
The boys are really pressing Xavier’s buttons today. They can’t be left for one minute without doing something moronic. It is incredibly energy consuming and an absolute patience sucker. We don’t know how we are going to survive the trip and it really has to be a day by day meditation because there is nothing that you can do or say that will make them change their ways. Xavier’s father named this phase as “l’âge con”, Lisa recalled her mother saying “Let’s wait and see the day you have children”. The thought is enough to turn anyone into a basket case, or perhaps we will be able to survive and recall swan like transformations…
Friday 23 August
Went to visit Linz, home town of composer Anton Bruckner and later Adolf Hitler. The lead light craftsmanship in the main cathedral was completely immersive. It was by far the main attraction, otherwise nothing much. Although, it was the European cultural capital in 2009 and does have a big focus on electronic media.
We were privy again to pretty landscapes experienced from another ride by boat across the Danube. But the horrors witnessed by this land is sickening. Today we visited the Mauthausen Concentration Camp.
The intentional, sadistic hatefulness that filled these walls, that overflowed into an openly deranged pleasure in executing acts of such acute hate, anger and frustration is unfathomable. It is essential, critically important for all of humanity that these beastly places remain visible for all to see. It’s a heavy weight to bear for those that followed, for those whose parents or grandparents were either the persecuted, the persécuteurs or the bystanders. The butchery cannot, should not be denied, hidden or silenced. The sick nature of man must be forever in the spot light as should all the twisted politics that led to such blind followings. The baby steps of trolls lead to this monstrous filth.
The man who was mauled to death for hours by the dog sickly named “Lord”, the people who were hung on a cross before execution, those that were shot and tortured after solitary confinement, those whose bodies fell into pits, those who were worked to death, those who either accidentally or willing threw themselves off the ‘stairs of death’ only to be crushed under the weight of the boulders they carried from the quarry, those who died from hunger, exhaustion, dysentery and other diseases. Makes you want to vomit disgust. So hard to believe wars still exist after such an ugly human unveiling. It was a sombre close to the day. It’s done our hearts, minds and souls in. So incredibly sad.
The boys will hopefully never forget this lesson. Nor the heartbreaking hand written notes from loved ones to mothers, fathers, siblings, grand parent, uncles and aunties or cousins that perished tortured and neglected by other fellow humans in these death camps.
As we rode our bikes to the camping ground, we are thinking about the man who rode from Mauthausen all the way back home to Poland after the liberation on a bike given to him by nuns in Linz. How we take for granted the freedoms unknown others fought hard for. How easily we forget all those who died for today’s freedoms. How easily we turn a blind eye to the behaviour that leads to the ugly insanity of man that continues today. How easily we don’t question things that enslave others in worlds far away. How easily we put power and convenience above the benefit of all. How miserable are we.
Saturday 24 August
We’ve tried cleaning Léon’s shoes, using tea tree oil, etc. Three days ago we told him he needed to put socks on to help create a barrier, yet, he refused. Now he has red blotches appearing under his right foot. Only today he’s decided to listen but it’s somewhat late. We’ll see if we can calm things down before Vienna.
Today we rode at lightning speed and did 30kms in an hour and a half, this was despite the head wind. We finally figured out our group groove which is fairly typical but it includes the idea of rotation. That is, the first person takes on the headwind for the team, then when that person tires, they move to the side and drop into last place which is the cruisiest place to be because the others ahead are breaking the full frontal and creating an aerodynamic flow around the team. It worked a dream and the boys really loved the idea that we overtook three pumped up middle aged men in Lycra also bike touring. The chase was on. While we were setting up later in the day, and much to our amusement, we saw them pass the campground.
Today’s ride was picturesque once again but it’s hard to ignore the sinister side of this beauty and what a desire to protect it led its patriots to.
We found the perfect little lunch bench on the way and enjoyed home made sandwiches with ingredients we bought at the supermarket and bakery. Tomorrow is Sunday so all will be closed and we have to think of food until at least midday tomorrow.
The boys seem to have this silly pent up energy when we get off our bikes that drives both Xavier and Lisa mad. They have been hitting and hurting one another and then this evening, like most, when it came to shower time they turn feral. They scream, they take over the cubicle, they make a mess. Xavier lost his great source of patience and let it rip in the cubicle.
Now as the rain pitter patters on the tent, they have found their journals and calmed down.
Sunday 25 August
Left Melk this morning after a short visit to its abbey which we found somewhat underwhelming. Yes its big but there was a certain superficiality to the decorative aspects. For example, the clouds in gold did not have the fullness nor roundness nor light fluffiness of the clouds in Weltenburg… its hard to look at baroque examples without referencing the magic of that truly spectacular and other worldly church.
We rode some 70kms but we were hard up against this awful wind that has not gone away since we crossed over into Austria. The wind was cursed today on several occasions. It’s that constant sound that fills your ears, coupled with the pushing that just makes it absolutely exhausting. We’re all starting to feel delirious it seems. We stopped by the roadside because our butts were burning. We’re not exactly sure why our butts are still sore after seven weeks. Perhaps it’s the amount of time we’re in the saddle. Perhaps it’s just all the pushing. Xavier laid down on the grass and fell asleep instantly while the boys went to the bush toilet and were testing which of the three had the healthiest poo! This they measured by the number of flies attracted. Meanwhile Lisa sat on a bench and was trying to stretch out the sore shoulder and massage a sore butt. What a family scene. We arrived at a quiet camp ground and met a Spanish couple from Madrid. Being Sunday we went to the nearest restaurant for dinner and were in bed at 8pm. Tomorrow we arrive a day early in Vienna. Something we are all very much looking forward to after being 16 days non stop on the road. Having the warmth and comfort of a friend’s hospitality is uplifting.
Monday 26 August
Today we left St Polten and instead of taking the EuroVelo 6 bike track and follow the Danube 60 odd kms, we decided we needed a change of scenery so we travelled over the mountains to Vienna which reduced the trip by some 20kms but it also meant a few very steep climbs. We kept coming off our bikes on the way up because of the gravel on the dirt track. Léon and Oreste got to the top of the first climb as is usual. Oreste wanted to help his mum up the hill, but on his way down he slipped on the gravel and landed on a sharp rock that made a deep hole in the palm of his hand. We stopped the ascent and administered first aid again which involved the removal of microscopic stones inside the wound. We had no access to water. Despite trying to remove some of the dirt with antiseptic spray, his dirty hands weren’t holding the bandaids very well so Lisa got inventive and made a glove from a single sock that had lost its pair. Oreste really loved the idea of turning a sock into a glove.
We continued on our way and then finally reached a high point where we could see buildings we passed a few days ago. We couldn’t see the Danube anymore but could figure out where it was from the bridges. It was nice to be up high again. There was a nice cool breeze, it was quiet and no one else, or at least only a few other people, as opposed to the constant flow of people on the EuroVelo 6. While comfortable, you really get the sense that you have hooked into a large and important source of tourism dollar on the EuroVelo 6, with camping grounds at every 20 odd kms that offer hot showers, a place to eat and of course to sleep. We didn’t need to do wild capming once along the EuroVelo 6. Although there were plenty of opportunities to do so.
After a beautiful picnic lunch in the mountain’s forest where Lisa was attacked by a mulberry bush and her feet were covered in thorns, we descended some 14 kms to Vienna, covered in scratches, mosquito bites, bruises, wounds and fatigued. Lisa tripped and fell on the tent and bent one of the poles which is not good news for the rest of the trip. She was very lucky that she didn’t impale herself on the peg just a few millimetres away. Like the thorns of the sweet, fruitful mulberry bush, everyday had its dose of poison and magic.
More homework. Tonight before dinner and in rotation with the showers. We’re starting to get somewhere it seems. At least there has been an acknowledgement that it needs to happen. There is no doubt that the cities are hotter than the mountains. So hot in the tent tonight.
Tuesday 27 August
Today we left the camping ground which was under construction and so noisy. We went straight into downtown Vienna to get our tickets for Maribor. What a nightmare of an experience. The wayfinding signage was all over the place – if and when it existed. There were some abstract obscure signs that indicated we might be going in the right direction but it took us on a wild goose chase and found ourselves no closer 10 minutes later. To make matters worse, there’s signage on the floor so you’ve got a double dose of information as you’re riding a bike trying to negotiate pedestrians and traffic all at the same time. Wikipedia seems to think that Vienna is cited as an exemplary city by Urban Planners. In these first few hours, we’re struggling to understand why. These cities that were not constructed for the vehicular cancer are overridden by them at the expense of green, cooler, pedestrian and bike friendly spaces.
Eventually we observed where local bike users were going to access a cycle path that takes you to the centre. We followed their lead, got on a bike path and rode along a dry hot canal for several kilometres until we found ourselves in front of the Schönbrunn Palace. We thought we would go in and have a look but on observing the mass of people scrambling left right and centre particularly for the perfect selfie shot, we had second thoughts. It became all so very clear that these palaces built on extreme inequality have today become a Disneyland for tourists and the mass tourism industry. All these people from all over the world dreaming about a world gone by that has no relevance to today, nor indeed the future. They do this because today’s contemporary palaces being built by the 10% at the expense of social and environmental stability are hidden from view. We got back on our bikes and happily left, continuing our search for the main train station. We ended up on this sort of freeway but not quite because people were still on scooters and there were a few pedestrians. It was very confusing. A woman in front of us on an electric scooter was watching us and telling us that we could not go the way we were planning. Clearly we’re not the only ones who have done this. Taking her advice, we decided to cross the road and the moment that Arsène was crossing over there was a delivery van coming at high speed from behind. The woman screamed, the driver realised there was something ahead that he couldn’t see so slammed on the breaks and we all just realised how close to death Arsène had come.
Clearly afraid for us, she said or rather ordered “follow me” and helped us get out of the mess we were in. A few metres further she asked where we were going. We told her the main station, to which she responded “follow me”. This angel took a good 15 minutes out of her day weaving us through the chaotic streets of Vienna to take us to our destination. We even had a guy in a truck agress us. Without her we would have spent the next hour trying to get out of the spaghetti road mess and who knows whether we would have managed that unscathed. We thanked her profusely in the very best German we could manage as she left us infront of the train station.
On arrival to the station it seemed that every train we wanted for Maribor was fully booked. Finally, the person behind the desk found a train, early in the morning. We jumped at it. Out the front of the main station, Oreste pulled out his own tooth that had been bothering him for the last week. After that, we went and had kebabs for lunch and then made our way to the camping store to try and get some repair items. We found what we needed which was excellent and then finally on to met a our lovely Norbert who we hadn’t seen in many, many years. Despite Norbert being in full crisis management mode for his New York exhibition we got straight to it – talking about public art contracts! He’s got some private and public gigs in New York and ocean liners of all places. We went out for an early dinner and got to bed pretty late but we couldn’t do otherwise. The conversation was too good to miss. Third pit stop, reached! From this furthest eastern point we move south west until our next milestone which will be Rome.