A 4 month bike tour thru Europe 2014
Highlights of my day by day journal of a 4 month bike tour thru Europe
Four months is looong time, day by day, so, for easier downloading/reading the journal has been split into months:
May Stuttgart to Děčín ‑ via Paris & Berlin
June Litoměřice to Postjona
July Postjona to Armentières ‑ via Stuttgart & Paris
August Armentières to London ‑ via Brussels & Amsterdam
This journal is also available ‑ with lot's more images & detail ‑ on the really interesting, if somewhat old‑school, idosyncratic Crazy Guy On a Bike collection of bike touring journals
Part 3 of 2014 Europe journal
Postjona to Trieste
Distance: 56 km
Total Distance: 2227 km
Slovenia had a few more hills for me before I left, nothing overly steep nor overly long but enough to give my legs a good workout. Anyway, the route was all on‑road, surprisingly busy roads too, and took me in a zig zag fashion towards the Italian border. One last 1€ coffee in Sežana and it was, again, onto the motorway to cross into Italy, tho as both Slovenia and Italy are members of Schengen, there was just a small sign marking the border. Almost immediately, there was a turn off on a minor‑ish road to Trieste. The road was good and there was, for much of the way, a decently wide, paved shoulder/verge to keep me out of the traffic. The road climbed, gently, until Opicina, where, just as the rain started, I had my first glimpse of the Mediterranean.
The road very abruptly enters the town and tho it runs pretty straight, there are few direction signs and with the GPS unable to lock onto satellites, navigation was looking tricky, then out of nowhere, very large signs losing hotels/hostels/pensions appeared, and at the same time the GPS finally locked on and sprang into life, great! I found accommodation near the station and after parking the bike in a foyer window where it looks like a window display ‑ and as I found later, attracted a good deal of window shopper interest ‑ I wandered off, with a 'biker' map provided by the hotel, to explore ‑ a 'biker' in Australia is definitely not a cyclist, much more your "Sons of Anarchy" type.
Trieste is a fabulous place, once a significant port in the Austro‑Hungarian Empire, it has plenty of imposing edifices in the so‑called 'Austrian quarter' and it's old town has enough narrow, winding, cobbled streets with medieval stone churches and Roman ruins to conjure up visions of an ancient settlement. And it's a working port too, with city and port intermingling. I spent a great afternoon sightseeing. While the Slovenian hills didn't tire my legs too much this morning, the steep cobbled streets and stairs ‑ stairs everywhere ‑ this afternoon certainly did.
Trieste to Aquileia
Distance: 56 km
Total Distance: 2283 km
It must have rained last night, there were huge puddles of water everywhere this morning when I set out from Trieste. The morning traffic wasn't too bad and there was an off‑road cycle path most of the way to Miramare Castle ‑ a hint, there's a lot of overhanging greenery on the bike path, avoid it, quite a bit of the greenery is made up of blackberry canes and these have bloody big thorns that hurt... I didn't actually use the bike path so much, rather I took my life in my hands and darted across the road (SR/SS 14 which I basically followed all day) and rode along an esplanade at the waters' edge. It was nice.
Any sort of off‑road route, bike path or just footpath, ended at Miramare, just as the climbing started. The climbs were pretty gentle and the tunnels were short and well lit. There was a bit of road resurfacing work going on which forced traffic into a single lane but just by waiting for a break in the traffic I was able to negotiate these bits easily. At first the road followed the coast and there were some fabulous glimpses of the Med down below but the road veers away from the coast and heads inland thru some attractive rural scenery. I reached Monfalcone almost before I knew it. The road out of Monafalcone is narrow and crosses both rail lines and the river via longish, narrow bridges. Traffic was pretty thick so when I saw a sign 'Aquileia wine route', I again took my life in my hands and darted thru the heavy traffic and crossed the main road onto a beautiful back road that wound thru vineyards and orchards,fabulous cycling, even if there was still quite a lot of traffic.
Aquileia is a tiny town with a big history, it's on the UNESCO World Heritage List with a remarkable Basilica, lots of mosaics and even more Roman ruins, it's also very pretty, very self‑contained, a gentle walk covered the twenty or so sites dotted about the town with plenty of time to enjoy a post‑ride gelato too.
Aquileia to Portoguaro
Distance: 62 km
Total Distance: 2345 km
An easy start from Aquileia on a new bike path that took me to Cervignano di Friuli where the path continued northward but I turned west. I will go northward eventually, but with Venice only a hundred or so km away of course I'm going to Venice. Who wouldn't?:
At Cervignano di Friuli it was back onto the SS14, just as busy today as it was yesterday. Again I tried some back roads, again they were no better ‑ in terms of traffic that is ‑ than the SS14. So, for most of the morning I rode the SS14, in towns and every now and again, good off‑road cycle paths appeared then disappeared, and on obviously recently upgraded sections there was always a good shoulder/verge (often with lots of little stones and other detritus, but very little broken glass) but the majority of the ride was on a narrow road, single lane in each direction.
I stopped for coffee in Latisana, where a family who were also riding bikes initiated a chat, later, Dad sent Mum and the kids off home while he rode with me to for a little way, it was really good to ride with a local and I was sorry when he turned back to join a group of friends powering past in the opposite direction. I've seen plenty of cyclists everywhere in Italy, lots of lycra clad guys out for a ride, a heap of both men and women out shopping on their bikes ‑ saw a guy on a bike precariously balancing very long steel reinforcing rods which almost dragged along the ground both front and rear ‑ and I've seen bikes almost sagging under the weight of the shopping they're lugging
Portoguaro is like all the towns I've passed thru the past couple of days, functional and lived‑in rather than picture book. A relative new‑comer, the town was founded in the twelfth century but still, whenI rode thru the old town area I saw lots of grand palazzo lining the streets (and canals), quite spectacular.
Portoguaro to Venezia Mestre
Distance: 80 km
Total Distance: 2425 km
Another day on the road, and befitting the first day of the Tour de France, a mad sprint to the finish line.
I started out on SS14, fewer heavy vehicles being a Saturday but that seemed to have the unfortunate consequence of allowing them to go much faster and as much of the road, and the back roads, in the area is on a narrow tree lined embankment, a truck whizzing by so close creates nasty cross draughts. Still, I'd plotted a nice back roads cross country route to Venice, so I soon left the SS14 and headed off towards Eraclea, and promptly lost my way! A passing cyclist out for his morning ride soon put me back on track and the riding was easy and the rural scenery was beautiful, a lovely ride. When I arrived at the coast again, at Jesolo, things started to go downhill. Getting out of Jesolo was tricky, traffic was building up and it was obviously holiday traffic ‑ motor homes, caravans, tourist buses ‑ so by the time I got to Lido di Jesolo there was a traffic jam, in both directions, that lasted for 10 kms. I probably shoulda realised that a narrow beachfront isthmus would be wall‑to‑wall hotels, campsites and all the other things that go with resorts. On a narrow road, no bike lane, it was 10 kms of hell. After Cavallino there was a good off‑road bike path, crowded with holiday cyclists with a very relaxed attitude to cycle etiquette so I took to the traffic jam in preference until Punta Sabbioni when I swapped the road for a ferry.
What better way to come to Venice than water? A ferry from Punta Sabbioni to Lido and another ferry from Lido to Santa Lucia (or, as the ticket seller told me, just ask for the train station). The ticket seller also said I could use small ferries, water buses, but when I tried, no way! I had to use the vehicle ferry, no problem tho.
Naturally being a city of canals and water, bikes aren't allowed in almost all of Venice ‑ tho, interestingly enough, there is a small bike‑share system like every other major city in Europe has ‑ so I opted for Mestre, which meant riding across the causeway, which was like riding on a freeway. Lots of heavy vehicles, lots of buses, and speeding cars ‑ for the first time outside Australia, kids in cars threw drink cans at me ‑ it wasn't fun, so, I simply cranked it up and rode my own TDF time trial, the causeway is about 4 kms and I covered the last 3 kms at 35 km/h. Even if I say so myself, not a bad effort on a loaded touring bike, even if it is on a super bike like mine. Slowed to a crawl once I hit Mestre tho.
Venezia Mestre to Quarto d'Altino
Distance: 40 km
Total Distance: 2465 km
An odd day, riding with others today reminded once again why I prefer to ride solo... As things turned out, yesterday while sightseeing in Venice I met a group of cyclists who had cycled to there along the Via Claudia and were taking a bus back to the Danube, a bike bus no less. In short, I opted to join them on a bus that will take me back to my old friend, the Danube.
Quarto d'Altino is only some 25 km from Mestre so the consensus was that we leave late. It's supposed to be only the English and mad dogs that like the midday sun, but midday is when we finally assembled and headed off.left. The route out of Mestre was actually quite easy, one of the Italian National Cycle routes goes this way, so all we had to do was follow the R12 signs. On‑road/off‑road was about fifty/fifty, with some obviously very new off‑road sections. It was an easy ride, there were a couple of places where the facts on the ground bore no resemblance at all to what was shown on maps but even with lengthy group discussions that always accompany 'which way now?' situations it didn't take long to get back on track either time, so we arrived very early. Too early, but wed been told about a nearby archaeological museum that was said to be pretty good, so, no worries, after unloading our panniers and gear at the hotel we headed off.
Plenty of direction signs for the museum about so off we went. A couple of kms down the road there was a sign advertising some sort of construction. Yes, the road was closed ‑ a new bridge under construction. Still, one of the construction workers told us about a riverside path that we could use to get to the museum, so back into town, to the river and sure enough, there was a gravel bike path, with R12 signs. We followed the quite nice path along the river and sure enough, came to the road to the museum. A couple of k's on a lovely back road and we arrived. "Museum is closed, there is a sign that says so, can't you read?"" asked the somewhat grumpy caretaker. Well, actually, no, none of us could read Italian. The caretaker mellowed a bit and told us the museum was being reconstructed. One of the group asked about a nearby trattoria that had been recommended, yes, you guessed it, closed, for the rest of the month (as from today) Nothing for it but to return to town. When we got back to town, it too was 'closed' for the 3 hour midday break so beloved here.
Quarto d'Altino to Donauwörth
Last night there was a thunderstorm of epic proportion, the rain really came down, and continued all day today, so it was better to be in a bus than on the bike. And that's about the only plus to an 8 hour bus journey.
The bus arrived exactly as scheduled, 08:00, but he driver declared he couldn't go anywhere with coffee and a cigarette, and maybe some breakfast too, so the scheduled departure time slipped by some 30 minutes. No mater, we made up time on the autostrada! We stopped a couple of times, but it was really almost a flat out sprint from Quarto d'Altino to Donauwörth.
The heavy rain mostly held off until Trento, the scenery looked good but as we started to follow signs to the Brenner Pass, the clouds closed in and visibility also faded so by the time we reached Bolzano, it was only glimpses thru mist and rain. The glimpses tho looked pretty spectacular, postcard stuff, churches and villas perched on top of cliffs, impossibly steep slopes terraced with vines, a million hues of green. The autostrada/autobahn was amazing, cutting thru tunnels to emerge onto winding bridges high above the valley floor. Plenty of maintenance work meant plenty of speed restrictions as traffic merged into one or two lanes. And there was plenty of traffic, virtually an unbroken line of heavy vehicles nose‑to‑tail all the way, as well as what are becoming ubiquitous, motor homes. As with any long journey, at the start there was plenty of chatter but as the day wore on, less and less chatter, except for the driver, he spoke some 7 languages and used but 3 today ‑ English, German and Italian ‑ but he was as garrulous in one as the other.
I didn't recognise Donauwörth as we sped into town, it wasn't until I took a stroll (in the rain, my legs needed to unkink) that I realised that this is the place of the infamous 3 punctures in a day on my EV6 ride. The Danube bike path was a bit rugged around here, so, I have decided to ride the other major bike route that passes thru town, the Romantische Straße
Donauwörth to Nördlingen
Distance: 41 km
Total Distance: 2506 km
Another good day not to be on a bike, but today I was on the bike.
It rained all night but by morning it was more drizzle than rain so off I headed. The Romantische Straße was well signed out of Donauwörth and the off‑road bike path was really good. Neither lasted long, nor did the drizzle. The bike path turned to packed gravel at the same time the drizzle became full on rain. Somewhere around the same time, the 'Romantic Road' bike signs disappeared to be replaced by green bike signs with town names (and distances), there were signs on every intersection, so many signs it actually became confusing later in the morning.
Even tho it was raining quite heavily, it wasn't too bad riding, the wet gear was doing it's job. As I neared Harburg, the bike path ran alongside Highway 25 for some distance, and the highway was busy, very busy, mostly heavy vehicles that not only sent out a lot of spray, but as the road was very wet, they also splashed sheets of water over the bike path as they whizzed thru puddles. My wet gear simply couldn't cope with this, I got drenched. Several times. Just to add to the discomfort, as the rain got heavier, the temperature dropped.
Harburg had another surprise, a very big, steep hill. It wasn't signed with a gradient, but it was as steep as anything I tackled in Slovenia. There were a few more hills, long rather than steep, as the bike path wound thru small villages. While the villages were nice and the rural scenery equally nice, there sure didn't seem to be much romance about the ride. And so by the time I reached Nördlingen, I had had enough for the day. A very understanding host let me into a room even tho it wasn't even midday, a hot shower, change of clothes and a coffee ‑ with beinenstich, I'd earned it ‑ and things looked better ‑ tho the room looked like the proverbial laundry with stuff hanging to dry all over the place.
For days such as today I've dragged a small umbrella up every hill since Stuttgart, and it was all worthwhile just for today. After an afternoon walking - the rain cleared by late afternoon - I could see the romance in the Romantische Straße. Nördlingen old town is circled by a medieval - well some bits are original 14th century - wall with 12 gates. The walk along the wall is great, the views are postcard stuff. In fact, pretty much all of the old town is postcard material.
Nördlingen to Dinkelsbühl
Distance: 64 km
Total Distance: 2570 km
Last night I plotted a route to Dinkelsbühl that didn't go into the hills, cos yesterday, every time I went up, the rain came. My route followed a couple of rivers and added 11 kms to the distance of the official Romantische Straße bike path, but it was easy riding (and very easy navigating).
I was well off the Romantische Straße and the many small, and a couple of not so small, towns I passed through were neat, lots of flowers and solar panels on every roof, including barns. Much of the countryside was grain and corn, corn and grain. And forest. Tho today there were cows and pigs too. Didn't see many of either, they're too pampered, they live indoors, but their rich aromas were everywhere. More than once I also smelt the distinctive aroma of malting barley, and in Oettingen im Bayern a copper malting kettle was proudly displayed on a traffic round about.
All morning there were low grey clouds, every now and again there was a spot of rain, but until I started climbing, about 20 kms from Dinkelsbühl, the rain held off. I'd started out fully rigged for wet weather so it wasn't a problem when the intermittent showers turned into a steady drizzle, especially as by this time I was entering Dinkelsbühl anyway.
Like yesterday, the rain cleared as the afternoon wore on, and with the aid of my umbrella, I was able to explore. Like yesterday, this is another postcard pretty town, perhaps too much so, every second building is a hotel/guesthouse or café/restaurant or souvenir shop. There are plenty of tourists here, including cyclists.
Dinkelsbühl to Rothenburg ob der Tauber
Distance: 49 km
Total Distance: 2619 km
This morning there was a little blue sky and watery sunshine, but at breakfast, one or two people seemed to almost take delight in telling me a thunderstorm was on it's way. All the more reason for an early start.
As I enjoyed yesterday's off‑route ride, I again resorted to the bike option in Google Maps and today it came up trumps, a very straight forward route that was 11 kms shorter than the official route. Basically, I turned left from where I was staying and followed the same road all the way. AN 5 turned out to be fabulous, really good quality road with villages every few km but almost no traffic. The autobahn was a few hundred metres to the left and Highway 25 about the same distance to the right, so I saw very little traffic and what I did see was mostly tractors and other farm vehicles. The scenery was much the same as yesterday, but a bit of sunshine makes a lot of difference, today everything looked even nicer. Again, the villages were pretty and there was the occasional postcard setting. Since Donauwörth, every village has had a maypole, May was a fair while ago now, so the green tree on top of the pole is brown now, but even so, some of the maypoles are spectacular.
It's easy to see why I passed so, so many tourist buses in an enormous parking lot as I came I into town, Rothenburg is more than postcard material. The size, the sheer number and variety of beautiful buildings and squares make it a truly remarkable place, tho, it has more than a faint whiff of Disneyland about it... as beautiful as it is, over half of what you see is post‑war rather than medieval, an air raid in mid‑1945 destroyed much of the old town. Be that as it may, walking thru the town is a lovely thing to do, and like in Nördlingen, walking around the city wall provides some really great panoramas. A couple of stops were required, the first for a local wheat bear (very good) and later a Schneebälle ‑ a quite hard pastry ball, made with butter, eggs and plum brandy and deep fried ‑ way better than it sounds, even if it was difficult to eat.
While the cloud thickened, and turned grey, the prophesied afternoon thunderstorm held off.
Rothenburg ob der Tauber to Bad Mergentheim
Distance: 52 km
Total Distance: 2671 km
Not a bad day at all. OK, OK, a very bad pun on the name of the town, but it was indeed a good day on the bike.
So, today was yet another short (but beautiful) ride. The route followed the Tauber into a quite narrow gorge, so narrow that there was space only for the river and the main road, the cycle path was about halfway up the left bank slope, which, of course, meant that there was a fair bit of climbing today as the path kept dropping back down to the river and climbing back up above the river, nothing too steep tho.
As the valley widened, I saw plenty of other touring cyclists and as I got closer to Bad Mergentheim, I started encountering lyrca louts, they're the same the world over, riding in ultra aggressive packs. But the ride was too good to let some poor behaviour spoil things. Even a detour (bridge under repair) didn't mar things ‑ detours are usually trouble, but this one was well signed and well thought out, even down to asphalted temporary ramps.
Bad Mergentheim is another nice place, it's certainly not movie set quaint like Rothenburg, nor as postcard pretty as, say Dinkelsbühl, its central area is quaint and is also the principal shopping area so it's full of shoppers and feels really lively in a down to earth way. There are also crowds of cyclists, the cafés on the central square were doing a roaring trade in coffee and beer ‑ cyclist staples ‑ so I too joined the throng in the square and sampled the local brew, seems like every town of any size supports it's own brewery.
Looking at a (very good) cycling map of the area provided (free) by the local tourist information centre, I find that Stuttgart is just over 100 kms away, I've sort of almost completed a loop, might be nice to do just that.
Bad Mergentheim to Würzburg
Distance: 65 km
Total Distance: 2736 km
Another late start, partly late breakfast and partly heavy rain. When the rain eased to drizzle I headed off, being a Sunday, I was by myself for quite some time. The bike path was excellent, as it was most of the day, smooth, good gradients and sweeping curves with plenty of signs. The rain was intermittently heavy but it wasn&39;t too bad riding.
By mid-morning there were plenty of other cyclists out and about, I kept overtaking/being overtaken by one particular group and it was natural that we started talking. I rode quite some way with this group, chatting away, not seeing too much of the scenery,especially as we were all keeping our heads down through a couple of quite heavy showers. Some 20 kms from Würzburg we stopped at a beer garden, the only place that had been open the whole morning. The preferences were fifty/fifty, coffee/beer. I went for a big mug of hot coffee when quelle horreur (to mix languages) I noticed that about half the beer drinkers were mixing their beer with Coke... Now I've seen some travesties in my time, but beer 'n coke? ‑ tho to be fair, raddler, beer and lemon/lemonade isn' too bad
As I was to find very soon, the rest of the route to Würzburg was tough going. Plenty of long, steep hills and by now thunder and lightning were rattling around the hills that I had to climb. It wasn't a particularly pleasant ride, even a descent which in the dry would probably be a lot of fun, had to be taken very gingerly in very slippery conditions. The official route went off into forested hills, but I took my chances on a more direct route, down Highway 27, and it paid off, a really good off‑road cycle path ran alongside the highway, ending abruptly as ever, but a bit of footpath riding got me to another bike path.
As I came into Würzburg, the clouds lifted, and for a little while the sun even broke thru. Würzburg has a different character from the other towns on the Romantische Straße, maybe cos it's the largest of the towns. It's very impressive, the Marienburg fortress and the Residenz in particular are spectacular. The Residenz is a World Heritage site and has some fabulous Tiepolo frescos. There's also a very healthy wine industry here, healthy as in two of the best Weinstubes are owned by, and in the premises of, local hospitals. The local Müller-Thurgau I tried was excellent.
Würzburg to Lohr am Main
Distance: 61 km
Total Distance: 2797 km
The only part of today's ride that wasn't quiet was the first few kilometres. What's that saying about build it and they'll come? Well, the first few km of the absolutely fabulous Main Radweg were awash with cyclists, everyone (apart from me) knew where they were going so what could easily have been a bike traffic jam just didn't happen. Lots of very stylishly dressed people riding to work, in passing, just how women manage their bikes in skirts and high heels remains a mystery to me...
After that initial burst of activity, I was pretty much on my own for lots of the morning. The bike path is indeed something special; 2.5 metres wide at it's narrowest point, tarmac as smooth as the baby's proverbial, signs every few hundred metres, mostly at water's edge, it's a great ride. The scenery is lovely, tho for quite long stretches there's not much to see except trees ‑ tho I heard rather than saw lots of traffic on a road a few metres away so the limited views weren't such a bad thing.
By the time I reached Lohr am Main, the showers that had dogged the first 20 kms of the ride had gone and the cloud cover also broke up, but throughout the day, grey clouds kept reappearing, and particularly dark clouds seemed to be gathering at this point so I decided to stop for the day
Lohr is a small, very pretty, riverside town, easy to walk around, easier to cycle around. It also has it's very own Schloß that comes with it's own fairy tale: it seems that the Snow White fable was based on an incident at the Schloß Lohr when a jealous stepmother recruited local miners to do away with Maria Sophia Margaretha Catharina von Erthal. Well, that's the local's story.
Lohr am Main to Wertheim
Distance: 58 km
Total Distance: 2855 km
Another day in paradise, a relatively short, very easy ride through great scenery on a fabulous bike path.
An earlier start than of late, a cool, fine morning and I had the cycle path to myself. In fact, I had the path to myself most of the day, the only other traffic I saw were the enormous barges on the river. There were a few small towns along the way, squashed between river and steep slopes of the valley but mostly it was a pleasant ride through forest and farmland ‑ back to grain and corn.
As I neared Wertheim I stopped for a very early 'elevenses' at a local football club where they had a coffee 'n cake fundraiser (a big coffee and a really good glazed poppyseed pastry for 2€ ‑ before riding the last few km into town. The town is situated at the confluence of the Main and the Tauber rivers and at the edge of town I saw a road sign, 'Würzburg 28 km', I've covered at least 4 x that many km from Würzburg in a giant U turn to get here, at least it's been pleasant! I rounded a bend in the river and before me was Wertheim, I saw forests, vineyards and a mass of multi storied apartment blocks and as with many towns everywhere, the outlying parts of the town weren't very interesting, plenty of light industry, auto sales yards and so‑on. Even the centrum didn't look very interesting, a row of hotels/restaurants lining wharves where large river cruisers were moored. But a very short, cobblestoned, street brought me to the old town. It's yet another postcard scene.
And I thought that Lohr was full of cyclists, the market square was jam packed with parked bikes and all the cafés were jam packed with cyclists ‑ easy to tell, plenty of lycra, lots of maps, lots of handlebar bags and all with the 'weathered' glow we have from being outdoors day after day. There were plenty of non‑cyclists too, the river cruise boats are almost as big as the barges, the passenger numbers are unbelievable. And there may have been some locals too.
Wertheim to Aschaffenburg
Distance: 85 km
Total Distance: 2940 km
A longer ride today. With towns relatively close together I don't need to start early, but I like riding in the mornings so today I got off before 08:00 and even riding for longer, I still called it quits just after the middle of the day. I had to backtrack a bit to get back onto the bike path (but more importantly, to cross the river), I had both road and bike path pretty much to myself. The ride was much the same as yesterday; great path along the riverside, lots of trees and small villages every now and again. Very peaceful, a bit unremarkable by now though.
At Freudenberg I encountered the first hill of any consequence on this route, the path had to climb to pass a lock on the river. I would've liked to have stopped for a bit as it was an interesting scene, but stopping on a hill isn't to be recommended. A river cruise boat was entering the lock, it was a delicate manoeuvre, with only centimetres to spare between boat and lock wall. Near Miltenberg the bike path was blocked because the riverside promenade is being redeveloped. There were a few A4 paper signs but as they basically only said the path is closed they weren't much help with navigating around the obstacle. A similar thing happened later at Obernburg (a flower show caused the closure this time), but when the route is following the river it's just a matter of getting back to the river, trial and error mostly.
I could have called it a day at any number of places along the route, but the sky was overcast, the temperature moderate and the riding easy, I just kept on going and going. As the morning wore on, the cloud cover dispersed and the sunshine very quickly warmed things up. I stopped at Großwallstadt with a heap of other cyclists (the path got busier and busier as the morning wore on) and succumbed to a Radler.
By early afternoon it was quite warm, so when I reached Aschaffenburg, with the imposing Schloß Johannisburg dominating the skyline, I decided to call it a day on the bike. The towns have been getting bigger and Aschaffenburg is quite large and has a city rather than a town flavour and the old town has fewer cute buildings than other places along the route but a lot more shops and way more shoppers than cyclists. Tho there are still plenty of cyclists about.
Aschaffenburg to Frankfurt am Main
Distance: 59 km
Total Distance: 2999 km
Another early start, today because the weather forecast was for 30+°C, so I wanted to beat the heat, and I did, but as usual I'm getting ahead of myself.
The scenery was a bit unremarkable today, but that's largely because the route threaded a path between commuter towns ‑ Aschaffenburg is less than 50 km from Frankfurt by direct road. While most of the path maintained standards, there were a couple of quite ordinary stretches today. Just kidding! While there were a couple of gravel sections and one very narrow pinch point as the path cantilevered around a rock outcrop on the river, on any other bike path they'd be seen as good quality sections. The path however was busy, very busy and for once, I was going with the flow, just another in a string of groups heading to the big smoke.
As with all larger cities the ride through the outskirts wasn't so attractive, and made worse by a huge redevelopment project in Offenbach which closed the path and without any signs navigating thru an industrial wilderness was difficult. A friendly local cyclist helped out, and by heading straight into the heart of the construction zone we picked up an amazing temporary path ‑ a path which apparently will be torn up soon, but which is better than almost anything I've used... The last few km into Frankfurt were through a riverside park, it was pleasant riding, and the city silhouette was clearly visible for quite awhile before I actually arrived. Little wonder that local wags dub the city Mainhatten
Frankfurt am Main to Stuttgart
Distance: 3 km
Total Distance: 3002 km
Apart from closing the circle by returning to the shop where I bought the bike and clocking the 3000th km in the process there's little to say about the day...
Tho I did learn a new (German) expression, but I can't repeat it in polite company. An easy start, a short walk to the train station where everything you could possibly want to know about the train you are catching is prominently displayed. I not only knew which platform to go to, but even where to stand to board the 'bike carriage', as did about half a dozen other touring cyclists. The train was scheduled to depart at 08:22, but by 08:32 it had not even appeared. That's when I had a vocabulary lesson from a fellow cyclist. To say everyone was very upset by a late train is something of an understatement! The train duly arrived, everyone was bustled aboard and the train left while we were all sorting ourselves out, too many bikes, not enough bike places, thankfully I carry an occy strap on the bike so I was able to bodge a secure place for my bike. A quick, smooth, trip and I arrived in Stuttgart.
Obviously way too early for any sort of accommodation so I unloaded the panniers into a locker at the station and headed off to the bike shop, and wwhile cutting through Schloß park I clocked the 3000th km of my ride, just a few hundred metres from the bike shop ‑ appropriate I thought. A very warm welcome awaited, after promising to return this evening for a celebratory beer or two, I left the bike to be serviced.
As I walked back to the pedestrian precinct I came on yet another fair. This one had taken over a big square and consisted solely of stalls selling (cooked) fish and beer, it was barely mid‑morning but they were doing a roaring trade. On the 'when in Rome' principal, I forgot about ice cream and settled for freshly smoked salmon ‑ a portable smoker was, well, smoking ‑ and a beer. Apparently it was all some sort of tourist promotion for Hamburg. After mid*#8209;morning beer what else could I do but go with the flow,a nice shady tree in the park provided for great people watching.
And the bike service? The computerised diagnostics said all was well with the battery, the motor and the control unit. Spoke tension, tyre wear etc were fine, in fact, all that was needed was to replace the rear brake pads (I'm not in the least surprised, they've done a lot of work).
Stuttgart to Beauvais
Distance: 6 km
Total Distance: 3008 km
As you can see, not a lot of cycling today, and none at all yesterday when I spent a lazy day sight‑seeing in Stuttgart before catching the night train to Paris.
I, and a surprising number of others, boarded the train at 01:30. The train was very long, and naturally, the bike carriage was at the far end, at least the bike carriage to Paris, like many trains, sections of the train went to different destinations and most of the carriages were heading to Amsterdam. The Paris bike carriage was absolutely chokka, one last space, the most awkward to use, was left. Before I'd even wrestled the bike up the steep steps into the bike carriage the conductor was there making sure I had a ticket (:and a reservation) for the bike, to be fair tho, when I produced both ticket & reservation he moved a bike from the spot reserved for mine, much easier access.
My own reserved space was in the same carriage, I shared with four big Italian guys and a young French girl, it was a tight fit with 6 of us in a relatively small space. The train was late getting into Paris and so we had plenty of time to swap stories and tips. My plan to ride out of Paris met with general negativeness, it appears there has been more unrest between the police and the youth of the banlieues (largely immigrants from Northern Africa) in the past day or so and I would have to ride through the heartlands as it were and this was considered to be crazy just now. It was also raining and the young French girl told me that the trains in the Picardy region were fabulously bike friendly. I took the advice and took the train to Beauvais. And the train from Paris was indeed bicycle friendly, ramps everywhere, no lifting the bike, a dedicated space (with power outlet for charging) and comfy seats. Tho Beauvais station had only stairs, so I got my share of bike wrestling anyway.
It was still raining quite heavily when I arrived, but the clouds gradually lifted and by late afternoon it was quite a nice day. I checked out the famous cathedral, a masterpiece of Gothic construction that not once, but twice, collapsed when ambition outran the possible. The sort of half built cathederal that resulted is pretty spectacular tho ‑ even if it does require considerable internal bracing in order to remain upright. Naturally, its famous astronomical clock was under repair. There's a very interesting tapestry museum as well as an airport used by the no‑frills, low‑cost airlines as a gateway to Paris. The town itself is a typical provincial French town, even if it's only some 90 kms from Paris
Beauvais to Amiens
Distance: 62 km
Total Distance: 3070 km
An odd sort of day, misty and wet this morning, misty and humid (but no rain) this afternoon. I started out earlyish and on the advice of the young guys looking after the hotel, I took the D1001 towards Amiens, and until the airport it was a pretty good road but after the airport it was totally different, a fairly narrow road lined with trees both sides with lots of fast moving traffic. I bailed after about 5 kms. Thankfully, there was a network of minor roads connecting the myriad of tiny villages. The ride was good, back to grain and corn in massive sized fields, small red brick villages and plenty of small hills. At least I thought they were small, there were a few long ones but nothing that caused any pain, but when I stopped in Amiens and ran thru the stats of the ride I found that I'd used almost 90% of the battery power which means I was putting in a bigger effort than I realised which in turn means there were more hills than I thought. Of course, the drizzle and intermittent heavy showers didn't help either.
The last few km into Amiens were on an on‑road contra‑flow bike path (always a bit disconcerting) which wound around and around in a mystifying route but which eventually brought me right to the famous cathedral ‐ famous cos it's the biggest Gothic cathedral in Europe, Beauvais was aiming for the record as it were, but theirs fell down.
Amiens is an unusual French city, I rode thru streets and streets of red brick terraces that reminded me more of Britain than France, and then there's Saint‑Leu, criss‑crossed by branches of the Somme once the centre of weavers, millers and tanners, now an artsy, caféd, probably yuppie district which is yet another place labelled 'the Venice of' Amongst those that Amiens hold dear is Jules Verne, he died here and apparently was Mayor of the city also; there's a good museum to honour him. Continuing in the unusual vein, like in Beauvais, it seems the choice of quality beer is either Leffe or Hoegaarden, both very good Belgian brews ‑ in Beauvais I solved the dilemma of which to choose by having one of each and I may just have to continue to do so in order to be impartial.
Amiens to Abbeville
Distance: 52 km
Total Distance: 3172 km
Yesterday was a great day, well, as great as a day spent amongst war cemeteries and battle museums can be. Revisionist conservative historians tell us we're sooks for thinking so badly of World War 1 generals and their battles and they may well be right, but there's still a poignancy about the monuments and landscapes which haunts ‑ just as it should. I set out mid-morning and rode a 50 km circiut of World War 1 battlefields and cemeteries ‑ Villers‑Bretonneux and the Australian Memorial and Cemetery at Corbie.
Today I rode to Abbeville, and in Abbeville there is? Yes, an abbey!
A warm day was forecast so I left early(ish) around 08::00 and I was the only traffic in central Amiens as I headed towards the riverside bike path. The path is really nice but there are absolutely no signs at all, which inevitably means trouble. The first few kms were on a lovely paved surface but after that it was almost all gravel, mostly nice hard packed gravel, but there were a few sections that were decidedly rough. As the path was a tow path it's right on the waters edge so scenery was limited to water and trees, not complaining tho, it was really nice.
After Pont‑Remy the path followed a canal through the marais and it was just a bit of single track, so at Epagne‑Epagnette I took the D901 a few km into Abbeville. It was unbelievably busy but I was far from the slowest moving object, there were tractors and agricultural machinery on the road too and drivers just took everything in their stride, I even got a couple of friendly waves and a "Bon chance" or two.
As I entered Abbeville there was something of a traffic jam so I took to the footpath, before I too could go no further, Wednesdays are market day in Abbeville, and barricades blocked both street and footpath. I stopped and waited and sure enough another cyclist came by and so I just tagged along, thru a side passage and into the thick of the market. My guide kept on riding, but I walked, pushing the bike. It was like being in Morocco again, so many obviously Magrabian traders, so much cheap synthetic clothing, plastic toys, CDs and what‑not, and crowds of shoppers. About halfway thru I stopped at a café for coffee (I also asked for a sandwich and I got a sandwich, a whole baguette stuffed to overflowing with ham and cheese for a couple of euro.) No sooner had I done that than the crowds thinned dramatically as everyone stopped for their midday break, everything ‑ bars and cafés aside ‑ closes for 2 or 3 hours in the middle of the day.
Abbeville is different again from either Beauvais or Amiens, it has it's abbey ‑ the half rebuilt St Vuilfran's, surely you know of Vuilfran? ‑ and a few bits and pieces of sixteenth century buildings, but most of the city is relatively new. It has a pleasant and friendly atmosphere though so I decided to stop here for the day. Not quite the seaside, though the tourist info centre has a photo of Abbeville plage which actually looks something like a beach.
Abbeville to Berck sur Mer
Distance: 61 km
Total Distance: 3233 km
A leisurely start from Abbeville but with a total absence of any sort of signage it took some time, and a few km, to find the bike path. It should've been easy, the bike path follows the river, so find the river and so the path. Getting to the river was indeed easy, but no path. Eventually I saw a path alongside the canal and with a bit of dodgy riding (again, no traffic about so riding the wrong way on a one-way street was do‑able) I was on the path. The path was superb, it ran alongside the canal in an arrow straight line for some 15 km. At first, it was great, but as the canal was flanked by high banks and trees, the view was limited, there was no‑one else around ‑ on land at least, there were one or two rowers training in their sculls ‑ so the novelty soon paled, by the time I neared Saint Valery sur Somme where the canal ends, I was getting restless, looking for something different.
I got my wish. The path ended abruptly, no signs anywhere, no roads nearby. A bit of exploration and I found a traffic sign to Noyelles sur Mer which was in the general direction I wanted to go, so off I headed. Some three or four hundred metres down the road I saw a bike sign and a bike path. The next 10 or so km were easy, a good bike path, right next to a busy little road, and plenty of signs. The bike path ended abruptly near Le Crotoy leaving a very busy D940 as the only option. Not great, but not bad either, the traffic ‑ buses, mobile homes, caravans, in short, holiday traffic ‑ mostly gave me plenty of consideration. After some 10ish km I stopped for coffee in Quend, in a village bar/tabac/supermarket ‑ one of those all‑in‑ones you only find here ‑ which was pretty packed with pre‑lunch drinkers but they were a friendly bunch. Almost immediately after that, a series of good off‑road bike paths began, a series cos they kept disappearing and re‑appearing at seemingly random points. Which is how I came upon Berck sur Mer, I was virtually led here by a bike path (which ended abruptly half way thru the town).
Berck isn't pretty, it has that faintly seedy run‑down air so common to coastal towns that are at least partly dependent on tourism, but it does have a plage, a real beach, complete with white‑ish sand and mini‑surf. It also has lots of waterfront cafés, restaurants and so‑on. And plenty of customers, with skin positively glowing a hundred shades of pinkish red from the quite strong sunshine. Maybe cos there are plenty of holiday makers about, picnicking in the shady parks, strolling along ice‑creams in hand there's a happy good natured feel about the place
Berck sur Mer to Boulogne sur Mer
Distance: 47 km
Total Distance: 3280 km
A strange sort of day, one moment the clouds are so low and dark it looks like it'll rain, the next the sun is beaming making it uncomfortably hot, one moment the bike path is superb, the next it has disappeared completely with no signs for kilometres on a narrow, badly paved and very busy road. Still, not a bad day by any means.
Another relaxed start to the day, riding on an on‑road bike path with little traffic at a steady pace and with less than 50 km to the big smoke of the region, Boulogne sur Mer, meant that I could appreciate my surroundings rather than concentrate on traffic. Much of the way to Étaples was built up, sort of suburban. At Étaples, bike signs appeared as did a superb path that took me almost all the way to Boulogne. The path followed the D940 and went through a park, although there were a lot of hills, they were the long rather than steep sort. The soil was really sandy and the trees were scrubby and wind blown until around 10 km from Boulogne when the trees got taller and gradually gave way to rural scenes. Just at the point a road signed warned of a dangerous descent, the bike path ended, well, the downhill path ended, I noticed that the uphill path on the other side of the road - often in France there are separate paths for each direction whereas in other places, there's one bi‑directional path. Anyway, I crossed the road and rode down the up path and then it too simply disappeared. A couple of kms riding on quite broken pavement in heavy traffic was OK, but I didn't feel comfortable so when an opportunity came to get off the D940 came, I took it. Naturally, I escaped from heavy traffic onto a steep hill. Up, up, up and there at the top was a brand new bike path that brought me right into the centre of Boulogne.
Boulogne really is the big smoke, it's quite spread out, lots of multi‑storied apartment blocks and a ring of gigantic supermarket type stores on the periphery. It's as it sounds, not very attractive. Even so, it certainly has character and the centre has a charm of it's own. It's a working port, ferries and fish, and the fishing fleet seems quite large so that as you walk the streets there's a fishy sort of tang in the air. The cupola of the Notre Dame ‑ what else could it be called? ‑ dominates the skyline.
Here's a scene for you: last night's dinner was freshly caught local mussels (the classic mariniere, just wine and shallots) and I mentioned to the waitress that I couldn't decide between a Chablis or a Sancerre to drink with the mussels, she responded with the classic, "whatever you like is best", well, that didn't go down too well with the other patrons! I could hear the sharp intakes of breath around the room, an elder woman at the next table leaned over and said Sancerre est meilleur (plus a whole lot more I simply didn't understand) to a general chorus of agreement from the other patrons. So, I drank Sancerre with my moules. Both were fantastic.
Boulogne sur Mer to Calais
Distance: 43 km
Total Distance: 3323 km
Another leisurely start to the day, it's Sunday after all, saw me set out around 8ish, the streets were totally devoid of life, even the gulls were quiet. The girl in the tourist information office was right tho, I hadn't even gone a km when I hit the first hill, and it was a beauty, loooong and reasonably steep, at least the off‑road bike path was good. There were a few more decent hills, and, for once, descent descents, before Wimereux, where the D940 ‑ the only non-freeway road ‑ was closed for a fete, which obviously meant a detour and you guessed it, up another hill.
As I neared Audinghen, I saw a line of bunkers, remnants of the German Atlantic Wall and almost immediately after that a sign for the Musée du Mur de l'Atlantique so I stopped, I was way too early so I, and a few others, had to wait until opening time. Worth the wait, it's an interesting, private, musuem. Maybe it was just as well I had a break, after Audinghen, the rolling hills turned into roller coaster hills, with ever higher, steeper climbs. There was a punishing climb out of Escalles, followed immediately by another climb near Cap Blanc Nez which was a monster, it just kept on going and going. I was just about to take a breather when an old Peugeot loaded with kids rattled up alongside, the kids were waving me on, chanting "maillot jaune" over and over, it was such good natured fun that I had no choice but to keep turning the pedals, then another car came along and in a cloud of smoke they disappeared round the bend, but they'd done the trick, my mind otherwise occupied didn't think about the growing heavyness in my legs and I made the top without that breather. The descent was brilliant, I even passed a motorhome on the way down.
Agreed, a bit silly.
The descent ended in Sangatte and from there I was in suburban Calais and on a bike path which once again brought me quite quickly to the centre of the town. Calais seems different from Boulogne or Abbeville, it's a Sunday so it's mostly closed, so perhaps the abundance of British and Magrebians has more to do with the lack of other locals than anything else, but today both groups seems disproportionately large. There are a couple of spectacular sights, the Mairie is something special and in its very nice formal gardens stands Rodin's famous 'Burghers of Calais' ‑ this one being the first, of twelve, castings. Near the Tour du Guet (a 13th century watch tower) there's a statue of Mr and Mrs De Gaulle ‑ unusual, how many 'other halves' have been commemorated in this way?
Calais to Saint‑Omer
Distance: 51 km
Total Distance: 3374 km
Another slow start, the map told me I'd be riding alongside a canal today, which, of course, meant it would be easy going. What the map didn't tell me was that there would be a thunderstorm today... I'd just started, maybe a km or so into the ride when the dark clouds that had been gathering off the coast, came scurrying overhead, accompanied by rolling thunder and flashes of lightning. I barely had time to rig the wet weather gear when the rain came. The thunder and lightning cleared by the middle of the day but the rain stayed, mostly drizzle, but there were a few heavy showers.
With rain, a pretty flat road (of variable quality, some nice bits but mostly of the pot-hole/patches variety) and being mostly through the marais ‑ think marshlands ‑ the ride wasn't the most scenic, not that it was without interest, the road kept swapping from one canal bank to the other over a variety of bridge types, including, a drawbridge where I (and a few heavy vehicles and lots of tractors and other agricultural vehicles had to wait for five or so minutes while a barge passed under) and while I almost had the whole route to myself, there were plenty of fishermen out. There was also, yet another, road closure, always a tricky situation, detour or keep on going? Today I took a chance and just kept on going on the forbidden route and all was well. While it's pretty hard to get lost following a canal, this stretch forms part of multiple major bike paths, the R1 and the North Sea route, for example, and it wasn't until Watten that I saw the first bike sign and it was for the North Sea route which swings north at that point heading back to the coast in Belgium and so of little interest to me.
The incessant rain was wearing so I was quite pleased to roll into Saint‑Omer around noon, along with the usual mini rush of traffic as people bolt home for the extended midday break so beloved here. Saint-Omer has plenty of the red brick terrace houses common to the region, but it also has quite a lot of substantial (yellow brick) houses and some lovely wide streets both of which attest to it's importance as a trading centre. There's a Notre Dame here too, apparently it has a nice astronomical clock plus a Reubens painting but when I ducked in, in between rain showers, there was a funeral service underway and so I didn't linger (or, quite obviously, get to see either clock or painting, such is life).
Saint‑Omer to Ieper
Distance: 62 km
Total Distance: 3436 km
Another very slow start, today because of heavy fog. I pfaffed around until visibility improved and then headed off. Today I was on my own as it were, no bike routes pass this way so it was me and my map ‑ IGN1011:100 000 Lille Boulogne‑sur‑Mer if you're interested ‑ and the map let me down.
Well that's my story.
What appeared to be a viable route through the marais via Arques didn't work out but with sheer luck after climbing a short, sharp hill on the D211, I found I'd lucked onto a direct route to Ieper. The traffic wasn't too bad, visibility was around 500 metres or so and I had both hi‑vis wet weather gear on and all my lights on ‑ the bike must've looked like a Christmas tree. The road was good, relatively flat and I made good time, the further from Saint‑Omer I went, the less traffic I found. The road goes over Mont Cassel, rising to the grand height of 176 metres, but believe it or not, it was a grind. The climb went on and on. The town of Cassel is perched near the peak and it's very picturesque, even if it does have horrendous cobbled streets which turned what could have been a great descent into a pain ‑ literally. A few rolling hills brought me to Steenvoorde, which caused a different sort of pain, lots of roadworks meant that it took me quite awhile to sort out where the road I needed was. I reached a 'no bikes' sign on the road I thought I should be on and pulled off to consult the map, yet again, when a police car stopped and a cop asked if I was OK, on explaining my dilemma in my best Franglais, the cop told me to keep on going on the road I was on, well, best not to argue with cops, so despite not being allowed on the road, I rode onwards. After about a km of roadworks, I cheated, I rode on the lovely new laid seal that was nicely fenced off while motorists jolted over compacted gravel, soon an absolutely brilliant (new) bike path popped up, this took me all the way to the Belgian frontier.
At the virtually unmarked, unremarkable frontier, a much bigger 'no bikes' sign appeared, but right below was a bike sign pointing to an alternate route. The bike route was brilliant, even if for quite some way it was a single two‑way path which meant I was riding contra‑flow with on‑coming traffic whizzing by at 70 km h, a new experience. At Poperinge, I picked up National Highway 38, a multi‑lane 120 km h arrow straight road, complete with bike path. Amazing stuff. A fairly easy ride along the highway until some 5 km from Ieper when the path diverted onto a parallel minor road through the outlying villages.
Ieper is pretty impressive, the Cloth Hall, the Great Square, St Michael's Cathedral, the ramparts are all spectacular. Hard to reconcile with the pictures of total desolation of Ypres (as Ieper is known in English) in WW 1. After a vigorous walk around the reconstructed ramparts, a 2.6 km walk according to the brochure. Of course, being an Australian, I went along to the famous 'Last Post' ceremony at Menin Gate. Every night, rain, hail or shine as they say, the 'Last Post' is sounded by the local Fire Brigade under the Menin Gate. Traffic is stopped, a reasonable crowd starts gathering about an hour earlier and while the whole ceremony only lasts about 15 minutes, it's a moving, if theatrical, experience. I found I couldn't help but think of Siegfried Sassoon's response to the Menin Gate, "this sepulchre of crime".
Ieper to Armentières
Distance: 34 km
Total Distance: 34370 km
Away to an earlyish start this morning, I intended to go to Lens (some 40 kms further on) so I got away before the traffic, it worked. Until almost at Armentières I could count the vehicles I'd seen on my fingers. A cool, fine morning, an on‑road bike path and relatively flat country made for easy riding, so easy that despite saying I was satiated with the so-called Great War, I found myself stopping at the innumerable plaques that dot the road, each telling a little story. I passed so so many little cemeteries ‑ a give away of where medical aid stations were sited ‑ and every house had a little display of their 'iron harvest', shell casings, unexploded hand grenades, rifle barrels, shrapnel and so‑on that gets dug out of garden flower beds and potato fields even now.
The skyline in this area is dominated not by church steeples, but by a thin cylindrical tower straight out of Harry Potter, the Irish Peace Park memorial. As monuments go, it's unusual. Around the base of the tower, lying flat on the ground, like the slabs that cover the German graves (even the same black/blue stone), are savage inscriptions. None of your cloying, sanctimonious cliches here, the words are lyrical ‑ well, their writers were Irish after all ‑ but the thoughts/emotions are brutal and enraged. You can't help but pause for reflection, I guess then the memorial has done what it's meant to do.
There were several towns and villages along the way, all red brick terrace houses, all neat and quiet and, well, ordinary. I stopped for coffee in Ploegsteert ‑ known to the soldiers as 'Plug Street' apparently ‑ on the main street, lined with everyday shops, cars and shoppers. Could've been anywhere. A very short but tricky ride (due to heavy traffic) took me back into France. I really had to look for the 'France' sign, I eventually saw it but it was so badly faded it was almost impossible to read. And right on the frontier was Armentières. Hardly a busy morning, and by stopping here it'll mean a similarly short ride to get to Lens tomorrow, but an interesting morning nevertheless
Jump to Part 3 of my 2014 Europe journal