Germany and Austria

Aachen - Cologne - Bonn- Koblenz - Bingen - Immenstadt

On the clock: 1280 kms

My ride to Cologne should have only been 130 kms. The extra 20 kms were clocked up pointlessly weaving around the city, totally lost. It's times like these when a GPS would come in very handy but I still haven't succumbed to the temptation. My Warm Showers hosts lived about 15 kms out of town in the area of Bensberger which is situated in dense forest. By the time I finally did get on the right road, it was almost midnight. I was thankful to my friend Johann for the super-bright front light he gave me as I cycled up the pitch-black forest road. I arrived at Kurt and Dorothee’s saddle sore and remorseful for keeping them up so late but so relieved to finally be there. My room was on the top floor of their spooky old mansion and I had the whole floor to myself. I love the weird and wonderful places you end up in when you’re cycle touring. Beside my bed was some fresh fruit, a bowl of Werthers original and a bottle of water. It’s the little things in life that make all the difference. Kurt gave me a bowl of Kartoffelsalat, I ate it and went straight to sleep.

Kurt and Dorothee

Kurt and Dorothee are legends in the world of cycle touring. 10 years on the road and 160,000 kms made Ben and I’s trip look like a ride round the duck pond in Kelvingrove park. They now make a living from giving talks on their travels and selling their book which has sold over 6000 copies so far. If you speak German and want to know more about them, go here:

                                                              http://www.reducespeed.de/

Cologne is a cool city. As soon as I cycled in, a friendly young German guy escorted me through town telling me about his own cycle trip through China. The streets were alive with cool young 20-somethings drinking beer and relaxing in parks. People were so friendly in Cologne and anytime I asked for directions, most people would escort me there themselves. I liked this place a lot.

Cologne cathedral

It was clear that some money needed spending on my old bike so I headed to Globetrotter, the biggest and most well-stocked outdoor shop I have ever been in. I bought a new Brooks saddle(100 euros), a Tubus rack(100 euros) and an Ortleib handlebar bag(50 euros). On a busy street outside the shop, I set to work fitting my new rack. Necessity is of course the mother of invention and being now forced to attend to my own bike repairs was proving to be a steep but very valuable learning curve. Two hours later, the rack was on and I was feeling very pleased with myself. It was late in the afternoon when I finally got packed up and set off down the Rhine.

Padlocks of love

I booked into Bergen campsite(681 Rhine kms).  The basking in the glory of my successful bike repair was short lived when after a couple of kms I realised that I couldn’t change into the smallest cog  in the back without making contact with a screw holding the rack in place. The father of a very nice family camped across from me looked very handy fixing his sons bikes so I asked him to have a look at it for me. He came up with the cunning plan of  inverting the screw to make it shorter on the chain side. Before I left, I bought his sons a big bag of Haribo sweets. My bike felt good again.

Why so serious? C'mon you're on holiday.

Goths like camping too you know.

I continued to follow the Rhein South and found the whole ride so beautiful. I had no idea that this part of Germany was so stunning. From the city of Bonn, I carried on towards Koblenz, camping for free after after a late night arrival/early morning departure at the huge campsite at the Deutsche Ecke, where the Mosel meets the Rhein. It had been a 100 km day and sadly my shoe had malfunctioned again. Consequently, I had spent all day going in and out of shops, toilets and cafes with one shoe on. Later in the day, I decided that going in with no shoes was better than with one. I got another cleat screw from Dutchman Louis and wondered how long this fix would last.

I hit 1000kms at the Deutsche Ecke.

The following day was another scorcher reaching almost 40 degrees again. I lived for my next cold drink stop and had to stop myself diving for cover under the shade of a tree every 10 minutes. After 40 kms I passed by a campsite right on the banks of the Rhein near Bingen. I decide to call it a day as this was meant to be a holiday after all. An hour later I was showered and eating a magnum under the shade of the tree pouring over my map of Germany. I love looking at maps and when I have one and a route to plan, can spend countless hours entertained with it. A Swiss-German couple then came over and started to talk to me.

Paul from Utrecht: Romania bound

Lovely, lovely cycle paths

After becoming acquainted, Esther and Harry offered me a lift in their mobile home 160 kms South to their next campsite. I was under a bit of pressure to get to Sud-Tirol in time to see my friend Andi before she returned to Glasgow so the offer of a lift was pretty fortuitous. They also invited to treat me to a night in their next campsite which as it happened, was nudist. Well if you can’t get your kit off in Germany, where can you get it off? The following morning my bike and luggage were packed into the camper van and we set off on our merry way. The average age of the clientele at Hilsbacher FKK(Frei Korper Kultur) campsite near Sinsheim was around 60-70 although there were a few couples my age with young families. It felt strange for the first 5 minutes or so walking around in the buff in front of a load of strangers but it didn’t take long to get in to the swing of things. They were a nice bunch of folk and no mistake and the campsite itself was set in some beautiful countryside and had a pool. Harry and Esther became my surrogate parents for the next 2 days:  paying for everything, sewing my clothes and making home cooked food morning, noon and night. This chance meeting couldn’t have come at a better time as I was really needing a couple of days off.

Huge cargo ships on the Rhein

We set off from Sinsheim, finally saying our goodbyes at Immenstadt after spending another night together in the non-nudist campsite at Alpsee. As I was setting off, much food and treats were shoved into my panniers and many photos were taken. What a random but wonderful few days. It’s always the most unexpected encounters that make for the best memories when you’re travelling.  I set off feeling well rested and focused for the next part of my trip which would take me into Austria and to the start of the high mountains. It had became clear to me that as a single woman travelling alone, people are very kind and helpful to you and not just when you’ve got no clothes on. Harry and Esther, I’m so glad we met. Thank you!

Couple of gems

Tried to slip him into one of my pannier bags but he wasn't having it

Blautopf lake where Esther, Harry and I went for a daytrip

Cows: I loves them

From Immenstadt I did an 85 km day crossing into Austria after about 30 kms. I stopped for lunch, a siesta and another swim at Haldensee. It was so hot, almost 40 degrees and I was finding it hard going. How I managed 55 degrees in the Karakol desert in Turkmenistan is beyond me. The route was all beautiful, clearly sign-posted cycle path through unspoilt countryside taking me through the villages of Haldensee and Nesslewangle. My first climb was over Oberjoch, a modest 1200 metres. It was on this climb that I was treated to my first views of the splendid Tyrolian mountains. After another swim in another mountain lake, I carried on through the villages of Stanzach and Weisbach. The stretch to Stanzach was on an extremely remote stretch of cycle path where I hardly saw a soul for almost 15 kilometres. A nice man however did come running after me with a box of muesli bars. It was a pleasure to cycle on these routes, far from people, towns and traffic. From Stanzach I carried on to Elmen on a cycle path that took me through fields of cows and dense forest. From Elmen I started the brutal uphill climb to Hahntennjoch(1894 metres).

Beautiful cross country cycling to Elmen

Tiny lake fish eating dead skin off my feet: not for the ticklish

Afternoon swim in Haldensee

More fantastic cycle path

It was dusk and cycling at this time of night in a remote place sometimes leaves me feeling very alone in the world. I climbed and climbed further into the mountains until darkness was setting. I put my tent up out of site on some land in the village of Bshlaps after asking a local farmer for permission, feeling so safe in this part of the world. I spent a quiet night undisturbed by the locals and awoke up to another stunning morning in Tyrol. After 3 cups of tea, a boiled egg and some muesli, I packed up and set off uphill again.

Wild-ish campsite

The previous days climb had been just a taster of what was to come. The rest of the climb was in many parts a 15% gradient and seemed never ending. It cheered me up however when handsome Italian road bikers came flying past me giving me a thumbs up and shouting “respect” for my efforts. Reaching the top was a nice feeling. The plateau offered panoramic views of the mountains and many cyclists and motorbikers were there taking a welcome break before the descent. Of course, everyone has to have their photo next to the sign with the mountains altitude on it. Here’s mine:

Descending an almost 2000 metre mountain is always going to be fun and is one of my favourite things about cycling. It’s not often you get to go at almost 70 km/h on a bike. By the time I reached the town of Imst, my brakes were screeching. I caught the bike shop in town just before it closed and bought a new set of brake pads for the back. I found some shade and fitted them, cursing the infernal heat. Leaving town, I clocked a sign that said 41 degrees. All sorted, I headed back on to the cycle path set for Landeck 20 kms away.

Enjoying the view at the top of Hahntenjoch

There's so much to be happy about in life

Good old German attention to detail: sign posts and flawless cycle path all the way

I was tired and the ride to Landeck, although flat was into a headwind. I drafted some road bikers for as long as I could whilst simultaneously learning the German verb for “drafting” from one of them. Landeck was a pretty uninspiring little town unless of course anyone from Landeck is reading this in which case it’s a great place.  I booked into a campsite and was asleep by 9pm.

Jesus loves you, but I don't

The following day was a late start as I spent the morning searching, eventually to some avail, for some free wi-fi. No supermarkets were open as it was Sunday and all I could find was a pizzeria. I gobbled down a 12 inch pizza to myself then set off for the Reschen Pass. I cycled uphill into the mountains on an extremely dangerous road which I hated every minute of.  After 10 kms or so however I got back on to a cycle route leading to the village of Pfunds and the Reschen pass. I had intended to wild camp but came across a great little campsite in Pfunds and gave in to the temptation. I knew that with limited funds I couldn’t keep staying in paying campsites but this one, on the Via Claudia walkway was an absolute gem: quiet, stunning scenery, respectful patrons and in the middle of nowhere. Whats more, it was by a lake. I jumped straight in for an evening swim, soothing  my leg and back muscles under a pounding waterfall. The negativity of what had been till then  a pretty hard day for me mentally, eased away.  I lay on the grass in the cool night air for some time looking up at the billions of stars above me before heading to bed for a wonderful nights sleep.

I was shocked the next morning to wake up to such filthy weather. The temperature had dropped by more than 20 degrees from the previous days and it was absolutely honking it down. I checked my emails to see if any Couch Surfer or Warm Showers hosts had got back to me in Meran but sadly no. I set off in the rain. By the time I got up to the mountain village of Nauders I was freezing cold and had to run into the first restaurant to get changed out of soaking wet clothes. I waited for a couple of hours in a supermarket cafe until the worst of it had cleared then set off for the final 6 kms to the top of the Reschen pass. Just before the summit, I crossed into Italy. That’s the great thing about Europe. You can cross through 3 different countries by bike in under a week. What happened next? Eaten by wolves? Abducted by aliens? Settled down with a Tyrolian sheep farmer to export peccorino for a living? All revealed in the next blog which takes me through Italy and spectacular Sud-Tirol.