Advertisement
Published: June 12th 2008
We´re in Mannheim! Yay us.
We´ve invented a new expression - bug-eyed, meaning I have yet another bug in my eye, we´ve carried our bikes across snow drifts, been caught in a hailstorm, Christie has bug bites from her head to her toes and we´re loving it!
To try and bring you up to speed, after a good-damn awful night in Milano where we literally had a highway directly outside our window and a Scottish grid iron team on the floor above us having an all nigth party (and I can attest to this as I went upstairs at 2am and told them to shut up) we set off for Lecco.
We left Milan along the canal paths, but only managed to escape thanks to the kindness of an old cyclist who lead us many kilometers through twisted streets after we lost the canal due to a closed bridge. Without him we´d still be trying to find our way out. The rest of the morning was pleasant cycling along bitumen paths along canals and then we finally turned left and head up alongside a river to Lecco. The paths all afternoon were mainly gravel, and slow, but we had it all to ourselves and it was just magical. We even passed a loch that was dsigned and built my Davinci or something. By the time we got to a camp site in Lecco it was raining, and all the shops were closed so I think we had a cold pasta salad between us, before tucking away for a nice cosy night in the tent by the lake.
The next day we entered mountain country, but sensibly followed the lakeside from Lecco around to Como. We did make one very significant detour up to the Madonna Del Ghisallo which was 8kms and 500 metres up this hill. The Madonna is the patron saint of cyclists, and the hill (which believe me was a killer) is the pain you pay to show your respects in visiting her. I got to write my name in the book in the church (usually locked away, but they´d just had a wedding so my timing was great) before we scooted back down the hill and had a late lunch with our legs dangling over a cliff on the side of the road, just enjoying the lake and watching strange people jogging past -huffing and puffinf - why would they do that? After that it was a nice 30km scoot into Como and a nice little hostel and a few beers. It´s amaying how many cyclists there are in Italy.
Then it was onwards to Switzerland. The first 30kms or so were still along the lake (just the other side) through small villages, skirting tunnels (though we did ride through two big ones the day before) and just enjoying the sunshine. We arrived at Menaggio quite early, so had a cappuchino by the lake and got to see a march of the old war veterans whereing their old gear quite by chance. Always brings a tear to my eyes, but I´m a softie. After that it was up our first real hill since the Madonna, then a nice cruise along yet another lake into Switzerland (where keyboards have the Y and Z keys in different places, they have a QWERTZ kezboard).
Border control apparently doesn´t exist anymore, so no stamps for our passports despite our best attempts. tootled down into Lugano, and found the information centre where I was greeted by my first swiss person, she looked at me after I asked if they had any of these new maps of the cycling routes in Switzerland which their Government has just spent $24million dollars on, is advertised everywhere and which they are trying to use to entice cyclists into their country and the first swiss words I heard were "God, I hate cyclists". She did give me a map, it was crap, and we headed off to a backpackers, found out that Switzerland is EXPENSIVE, but had a swim in the pool and tried not to think about it. Dinner was spaghetti with a can of peas and carrots and baked beans - cost about $12. We were having serious thoughts of turning around at this point and spending more time in Italy. Chocolate is cheap.
Day 2 in Switzerland and we headed onwards. Luckily (or not, depending on how you look at it) we stopped off at the YHA in town on our way north and got a map of the hostels, which also had all the new major cycling routes on it ... there was one on it from Lugano straight through to Basel where we wanted to get too - SCORE! Off we went. Unfrotunately, the next 20kms were a bit unfun, gravel paths, big rocks, wrong turns, roads that looped back on themselves - we seemed to be doing a lot of work and getting nowhere. Eventually, a bit run down we arrived in Bellinzona, which was onlzy about 40kms along from Lugano, but we´d had enough. After finding the YHA didn´t open for another 3 hours, we went and found a campsite, but just as we started putting up the tent the heavens opened and we got pretty drenched. Despite all that, we mucked around with the campsite owner, had another dinner of soft drink and cold pasta and had a nice night rugged up in our tent listening to the rain come down.
Day 3, and the sun was shining, but the tent was wet. Today we headed for the Gotthard pass. That meant we went up from 300 metres to 1100 metres over about 60kms. Unfortunately most of the climb was in about 5 of those 60kms, but to be honest it didn´t matter, the sun was shining (this was such a good thing) and the scenery was just terrific, especially in the steepest bits. We stopped n a nice little village and had our sandwhiches in the square after just getting to the shop before they closed for lunch (most shops close in Eruope between 12 and 2pm which is very annoying for us) and life was good. We got to Airolo, which is a t the foot of the pass, and Christie was keen to go on, but I was a little tuckered out so managed to convince her to book ourselves into a Ristorante / hotel and we spent the night there. After a bit of a walk around town and a shower, I bought a nice beer and went and sat outside to enjoy my book after a good days ride. It started to rain cats and dogs as soon as I sat down. Ah well.
Day 4, The climb. Up early, found out breakfast was included, so gulped that down and took off up the pass. Now in fairness, the lady at the information centre had said the old road was closed, but we just set off following the Cycle Route 3 signs assuming that they´d show us the road. We passed one of what were to be many, many swiss army training sites (nothign to motivate you up the hill than the sound of gunshots ricochetting around you), the climb was steep, but managable, the road was mainly cobble stones which added to the challnege, but the scenery and feeling were just great. About half way up, it started to rain, but we bunkered down and carried on. We passed lots of lots of roadside workers and I mention this because not one - NOT ONE, though to stop us and tell us we were heading up a road that was closed. Yep, sure enough about 900 metres up the 1100 metre climb from Airolo to the pass, we came to a gate tellin gus the road was closed. With the option of turning around and heading most of the way back down again, or jumping the gate, we jumped the gate. Soon after we found our why it was closed, snow started piling up on the roads, sticks and log debris were strewn everywhere and sections of the road were just washed away. Slowly and carefully we continued inching our way up, the snow got deeper, until eventually on one bend the road was completely blocked. We had to take all the bags of the bikes and I ferried the bikes and the bags past this snowdrift one at a time by climbing down off the side of the road and clambering along this rocky ledge which had some good footholds. It was only about 30metres, but my hands were ice by the time I got them all past. Fortunately that was the worst of it, as about another kilometre up the road we came across a road crew who were digging their way down opening the road, Seriously, one day earlier and we wouldn´t have gotten through, but as it was, we got tzo the top, celbrated with dry clothes and a hot chocolate, chatted to several other cyclists (you could pick the germans as they were drinking beer while the rest of us were clutching our hot drinks) before whizzing about 45kms downhill past Andermatt, Wassen and down to Altdorf. OK, the Whizzing did involve stopping several times and defrosting our ice-chilled fingers, but still 45kms of downhill is sweet reward. Eventually we pulle dinto a small town called Gernau, which had a Youth Hostel. We´d clocked up nearly 100kms, we were cold, tired and wet. So you can imagine how we felt after standing around for 15minutes while this woman checked someone else in, to then be told "sorry, we´re full". I was about to blow my bottle, but thankfully Christie did first. We turned around and cy
From there the next two days cycling in Switzerland weren´t much to write home about, we pedaled to around the lake to Luzern, after missing our ferry by about 1 minute we had to go the long way, but it still tunred out really well. Encountered another steep hill from hell, and then after all this effort cycling up it, took a wrong turn after a misguided lady assured us we could cycle down trhough some roadwords ony to found we´d given up all our height and ended back up on the highway. Following this into town, I almost got killed by a caravan (I swear it missed me by half a centimetre), we had a quick look around Luzern, then carried on to Sursee (a small town 20kms north) to camp for the night. More cold pasta salad for dinner.
From there to Basel it was about 100kms, the first 30kms were along a dirt canal path to Aarau. It rained the whole way, we were cold, and covered in dirt by the time we got there and about ready to give up. Stupidly, as we stopped under a little bridge to have a look at our maps out of the rain, a nice old guy came up, got chatting and offered to have us come to his house for a coffee and hot shower. Christie had complained to me a couple days before about me not doing enough distance, so I thanked him and said no and we continued on into the rain. What followed was hard. We got lost at some construction works (where the route signs had been removed) and went several kms in the wrong direction before finding our way back to the track, then we had a climb which made the hop up to the Madonna seem like a bump. It was hell steep. Finally at the top, I pictured kms of downhill running as our reward. No such luck. We just went straight back down the other side, before pushing trhough the next 50kms into Basel. We were both cold and pretty snappy on the way in, nopt helped by the fact that neither of us had much left in the way of brakes. In Christies case here front brake pads were completely worn away down to the metal and mine were squeling like a banshee. We finally got to Basel, and found we were the only two people in the world that didn´t know that the EUFAEuope Soccer cup was starting their the next day. The place was packed, with lots of streets clsoed. Again, we only found our way to the information centre thanks to a nice ol dman who lead us there on his bike. We tried all the hostels in town, and they were all full (and very sorry). Eventually, one called another hostel out of town which had two dorm beds for us, we with a photo of the tram line that we had to follow we headed 7kms out of town to the Butterfly Hostel. thankfully we found it quite easily, though I was so chaffed from the rain i couldn´t sit down on my seat for the last 7kms which made riding hard. It´s amaying what having a bed, shower and warm clothes will do for you. Christie was an angel, and went and bought pasta and sauce for dinner so we tucked into chocolate, pasta and read our books on nice comfy couches. It basically had rained all day.
It was still raining in the morning, so we stayed there for another night and went into town, did laundry, checked the internet, tried to find some books on cycling the rhine and soaked up the atmosphere of the world cup fans. The centre of Basel was closed off and was basically one big party. ´twas a good feeling, but not as good as not being on a bike all day. That was bliss. It was even worth the five drunken guys who came into the dorm that night and proceeeded to snore until dawn. Onwards to Germany ...
Strange, our first day in Germany was very similar to our first day in Switzerland. We had no motivation. It was nice weaving out of Basel (once we managed to follow all the detours, dodge all the broken glass and not get killed by the tram tracks), but over into Germany, the inital path just hurt my backside as it went over tree root after tree root, before finally heading onto the side of the Rhine. This was beautiful, but after about 20kms, thwe beauty stared becoming repetitious (oh, look - it´s another 2kms of the same river) the riding was on gravel paths and so we pulled up stumps again early and stopped at Neuenberg, which as a town has very little to offer (especially on a Sunday). I sent us around and around in circles trying to find the camp site, which we finally found (10kms later) when we set off in the direction Christie wanted to go in (I only went that way to show her she was wrong) and of course we went straight to the campsite. The reception was closed, so Christie went for a run to see if that would shake off her mood, while I read my book for a while. Christie was gone a long time, so I booked us into the site, and when C finally returned (and she´ll kill me for writing this) I found the delay in her return was because she had to pull off on her run for an urgent call of nature, only to squat down in something akin to Stinging Nettles. Sorry, it was just to good a story not to share, but I shall divulge no more.
We set up the tent, and found our way to the beer and inside swimming pool. Then it started to rain, then the thunder came and then the hail. I´m talking hail 1cm in diameter, this was big stuff. It was all good from inside the nicely protected swimming pool, but we were a tad worried about all our stuff in the tent. Christie solved this dilema by sending me out to check on the tent (and bring back her book and chocolate because she wasn´t going out into that weather). The tent was OK, the thunder was the loudest I´ve ever, ever heard and so what followed was a nice afternoon of lazing by the pool, and then back to the tent to listen to the rain and fall off to sleep.
Next day, we had to get a bit serious - The Rhine is a long river so we had some kms to do. Set of early, and the first 30kms hummed by, with the exception of a little 2km detour up a dead end which we won´t mention. We stopped in a beutiful town Brearch or something for a morning coffee, bought a cycling map of the region (I feel lost without my maps) and continued on. Not much that memorable in the afternoon. We got lost down several dead ends, I got attacked by marauding sand flies which kept landing on my back and biting me (they never went near Christie who would´t believe that I was being bitten) before finally calling it a day at a small town called Rust. Rust has a theme park, called Euroworld or something. We stayed at Eruoworld´s campsite (we´re getting addicted to camping) which had the double bonus that we got to see one of their rodeo shows for free as we sat in the Western Saloon Bar and ate our dinner (well I ate two dinners, but I was hungry) and drank very big glasses of beer. Only disappointment of the night was having to get up at midnight and tell some of the other campers to shut the hell up as they were partying in their tent.
The 10th (June) was our biggest day so far on the road, though it wasn´t going to be. We started off just heading up to Strasbourg, which I loved. the cycling on the way up was very similar to the previous two days - we spent most of our time up on the levy bank just watching the river and river traffic go by, occasionally heading off onto smaller roads or wherever the signs took us. Did see one guy on a barge running circuits around and around and around which we both found pretty funny. 12kms before we expected it, we found a new bridge (wasn´t on my map) pointing to Strabourg, so we duly crossed, followed these signs for another 2 or 3kms, and found ourselves dumped somewhere on the outskirts of town with no more signs to follow. We did our tried and true trick from Basel of just following a bus route (they tend to lead into town) and even managed to find a bike store where I got new rear brake pads for Christie´s bike (we had managed to change her front pads in Basel but she hasn´t had any rear brakes for three days).
We eventually arried at the church, Christie posted off some more postcards, we visited the tourist office to find out more information on the velo-rhine route, only to be told that we should head back across the river into Germany as it would be easier to follow over there (the route runs on both sides of the river), and so after lunch in a little park and a few photos (Strasburg is a beautiful town, one of my favourites so far) we headed back across to Kehl and after much searching found the Rhine route and proceeded north. Ended up being another 40kms or so to the next campsite at Stollhofen. My backside felt like it had nails in it, for 30 of those kilometres and we weren´t a very happy troups as we pulled into the campsite (which we took ages to ind) after abut 110kms. Christie was absolutely knackered, and burst into tears when she couldn´t get the tent pegs in, so I set off to find a supermarket, I got lost, then I got lost again, and finally on the third turn found it. I ended up clokcing up another 10kms travelling, making my day on the bike 120kms. Strangely though, after a swim in the lake, a hot shower and some food, the day seemed OK again. Then to finsih the day of right, just as we were heading off to bed, two other cyclists dropped by who were cycling down from the North and we spent 30 minutes swapping campsites, stories and places to go. they were travelling on a tandem recumbent / upright bike. I took some photos it was pretty cool. Which reminds me earlier in the day I had seen four touring bikes with engines which I was very keen on. Christie meanwhile was watching some girl cycle past on a rattly old bike which she loved because it had spots painted on it. Sigh. Needless to say we slept well.
We only planned a short day the next day (because my backside was still not happy). But ended up clocking nearly 90kms to Philipsburg, just because it was the nearest campsite. Can´t recall anything particularly memorable about the day other than having a 1:50000 scale map which made for the first 45kms which made the navigation so, so, so much easier. After that we proceeded to get lost again several times. It´s terrible you just come out onto these junctions with roads going in five directions and absolutely no signage. Wihtout a map, you do what we do which is go the wrong way.
Philipsburg is nothing to write home about. It´s an industrial town (we were warned that we were heading into the Industrial Rhine until we now get to Mainz). the campsite was really for permanent residents, but they let us pitch our tent and we got a quite nights sleep.
That brings us to today. Having gotten lost, 10kms before Philipsburg on our way in, my plan this morning was to just head back down to the Rhine and refind the path. easy. 4kms down the road and I realised when we got to the next town that I´d gone the entirely wrong direction, then another 3kms down another path we finally found the velo route signs, and 4kms, yes, exactly 10kms after leaving we cycled back past our campsite and headed in the other direction. Good start. After watching some deer in the wheat fields, we got lost again, only to be saved by yet another good samaritan cyclist, this one leading us for the next 10kms all the way to Speyer, and even to the toilets. Speyer is an magnifcent town, it´s small, beautiful, with catherdrals everwhere and nice broad streets and cafes. We loved it and lounged around for a copuple of hours. Finally( after picking up a better map at the tourist office) we headed off to Mannheim expecting horrible industry. What we got were quite cycleways, we stopped by a lake for lunch and then easily found our way to the Mannheim YHA where we are now based.
Expecting nwo to be at the end of the Thine by about the 24th or 25th, hopefully we might catch up with Kim, then we´re planning to head down to Souther France for a holiday!
Advertisement
Tot: 0.121s; Tpl: 0.018s; cc: 13; qc: 70; dbt: 0.0755s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb
