Days 20-21

A rather short on pictures, long on words, blog to finish the active part of the trip. Not much to photograph but anepic day/night ride with plenty of incident. 

A great nights sleep and a lovely morning. Temperatures forecast for 27°C and the route not anticipated in my pre-planning (which made me a bit apprehensive). 

The road led out of Rhienbach.  It proved to be bigger than I thought having stopped at the first good looking bar the previous night (and the B&B being in the direction I had come from). A nice town. 

The countryside immediately on leaving was as before. Fields of trees and shrubs destined for the garden centres of Europe. The cycling was fantastic. The road flat between avenues of trees with excellent cycle ways. Here the cycle track is in the left if the road. 

.... and so it continued, and continued, and continued! I couldn't believe it. Small village after small village flew by. Where were the hills?  At about 11:45 I was thirsty and the day was warm. A sign indicated that the town of Düren was 22 km away. Another "Lord of the Rings" reference (I thought) and Dwarves love beer! It had to be a sign (metaphorical - it was, of course, literally one).  I determined to push on. 

Well read individuals will haven spotted my beer-deprived spelling mistake. It is, of course, Durin, not Duren, and inevitably my punishment for misreading the runes was a dry town. 

I pressed on. Another short aside now. Along the journey I have come across six or seven memorials, involving makeshift crucifixes, by the side of the road. They all seem to be dedicated to cyclists. Here is one I passed after Düren. 

This particular one was on a unprotected road but many are in quiet cycle ways. They appear to be mostly German in origin. I have presumed that, natural causes or cars, it's where the grim reaper caught up with someone and he/she fell from a two wheeled perch into the ditch.  It is not the first trip I have encountered these. This rather pretty one is in Spain from my cycle of the Camino de Santiago. The cross label says "Von Fruenden für Willi" which translates to From Fruenden to Willi. It is by a quiet path and Willi could have been a foot pilgrim or cyclist. Who knows. Something to think about and a bit spooky. 

The casual morning and early afternoon left my mind available for wandering.   There was clearly an election going on with lampposts adorned with posters of hopefuls trying to appear honest and competent (and signally failing in both). I decided they were wanted posters and tried to guess their crimes. They are: serial killers (1, possibly 2), homicidal hospital nurse (1), embezzling accountant (1), juvenile petty thief (Godbe- type in Porridge for British readers), Donald Trump lookalike (illegal in all European jurisdictions except Monaco and Luxembourg) (1). On the subject of Donald I mused on the matter of the Hans Christian Anderson tale of the Kings New Clothes. Surely I thought, his aides must recognise the ridiculous nature of his.........  but just pretend (opposite to the original) that it is invisible. I hesitate to mention his exact style faux pas in print just in case he becomes president and the immigration service adds "president mocking" to the list of self confession tick-boxes when you fly into the U.S. Being asked to voluntarily confess you are a terrorist or have been convicted of "moral turpitude" is bad enough. For baffled readers who whose first language is not English don't worry. The FAA specify that all inbound aircraft have to have emergency dictionaries available for filling in the form - they are under the seat next to the life vest!

You can see I had too much time on my hands! While waiting for a town with a bar I returned to the poems of Rupert Brooke and was pleasantly suprised that in spite of being unable to correctly remember characters from epic fantasy novels I could remember quite a few poems. The Wayfarers, The Beginning, Dust, Love, Kindliness and the sonnets "I said I splendidly loved You" and "Oh death will find me" we're all remembered pretty much perfectly. Oh, the benefits of Altzhiemers! By this time I was in Eschweiler, a town outstandingly well furnished with adult refreshment establishments. I chose a square with bars on three sides (and a church on the fourth) and reacquainted myself with the merits of Aperol Spritz.

Returning to the road my musings were disturbed by the sudden, and noisy, breaking of Betty's chain. A broken chain is never good. Without the right tools it is a disaster. I had sent my spare chain back to England when I lightened my load in Bergamo but had, fortunately, kept the chain tool and a few spare  links. 20 nervous minutes later it was fixed and having cleaned up I was back on the road. Now a little nervous as another breakage would be very bad as it now late Saturday afternoon and, as is usual, the following day Sunday. Not much chance if a bike shop. A check on Google regarding expected chain life (in miles) was not comforting as I had exceeded most of the forum opinions. 

Soon after, I think since there are no border posts, I entered the Netherlands. This was suggested by road signage and the disappearance of a 3G data signal on my phone. This was an issue that was to persist and have consequences (the phone not the signs). 

Just before Maastricht, having encountered no hills worth the name, I cycled through the lovely town of Valkenburg which, on a Saturday, in clearly a tourist trap. I wanted to get to Maastrict to try to sort out my evening arrangements so I didn't stop. It does however, and once again proving I should not speak too soon, have a nasty hill just outside it on the Maastricht side!

Just before 17:00, having traversed my destinations unlovely approaches I was crossing the bridge into my the town.

Now the consequences of lack of data access ion my phone kicked in. The tendon in the back if my right knee, which had been sore all day, was giving me concern that it would stiffen when I stopped. As a result I considered catching the train to Brissels given the knee/chain issues but at the train station information was closed and Google translate doesn't work without Internet. Neither do searches for accommodation. To McDonalds or Starbucks for the Internet (which I had usually found using 3G and Google Maps which, obviously, were unavailable). However, my native cunning and experience led me to one - where the Internet was only working very intermittently, or not at all. Had a Big Mac. Mmmmmm, need to regroup and rethink. 

The streets of downtown Masstricht were filling with Saturday night revellers. It is a town where al fresco eating and drinking is very popular. I recalled that I had the Fon hotspot app on my phone and the GPS was not data dependent. I won't go into the nature of the Fon community but I had been a member for years. The app showed a hotspot 75 meters away but without data (and therfore no map) I couldn't know which direction. Systematic wandering enabled me to find it. My user ID and password (never tested in years) worked first time. It was now about 19:30. I was a bit low. The countryside I had traversed was pretty but unchanging and uninteresting. There was the promise of the same tomorrow. My tendon was sore and my chain suspect. I decided to see if I could get home tomorrow. The Eurostar website showed that the first service on Sunday was popular with only four (of the expensive, but lowest price) tickets left. Could I get my bike on? The site didn't allow online bike reservation. Would the telephone number answer at 8:00 in the evening? YES - and the gentleman spoke English and assured me that the bike would be no problem and they were open 24/7. Result! Now to book online. Filled in endless details and got to payment and it wouldn't accept either of my Visa Debit cards. Tried several times. No go.  Now 8:30 and frustrated. Aaaagggggh!  I have a MasterCard (in the safe at home) but I had the encrypted details on my phone. Crossed fingers and toes and tried. BINGO! I had a place but not, apparently, a seat which the success message kindly told me and apologised for. Who cares? I had pedalled 110km (68 miles) and had to repeat that before 7:30 the following morning. 

Left the Saturday night revellers and headed West, past the hordes of festive drinkers and diners, into the setting sun. This exit from Maastricht was nicer than the entry from the East. 

A crescent moon was out and it was still 23°C according to a roadside display. The lady from TomTom guided me through a zigzag of farm field roads with the tractors, multiple lights bright, working late and cats from local villages hunting. My lights, used in anger for the first time, were excellent. I nursed the battery on my iPhone throughout the night (my Dynamo powered lights have a USB charger than only keeps up with the phone if the display/data/Bluetooth/Wi-Fi is turned off)  because I needed power for the Eurostar confirmation email in the morning. 

The road was good, mostly with bike paths, and ran up and down countless gentle low ridges. The moon set and the night cooled.  I got hot going up and cold going down. Night was clear, nearly windless, and my morale excellent. Don't think about how far to go! Break it into bits. How about a beer at midnight. Those in favour?✋🏽

11:45 pulled into the town of Sint-Truden and found bars open. Had a small pils and ate half a bar of chocolate I had been saving for such an occasion (Lindt 70% Cocao solids, salted caramel).  Locals very baffled. Set off again. Took a Selfie, morale very high. 

Same gently rising and falling roads. 1am, 2am, 3am - some villages still had the occasional bar going. One had a club with very nicely dressed girls spotted through the glass. At 2:30 I went through a completely silent and dark village where there was the wonderful smell of baking bread. Somewhere someone was getting the bread made for the Sunday morning locals breakfasts!  Kept wondering if I was in Belgium yet. In fact I had been in Belgium almost immediately after leaving Maastricht!

Around 3am I entered the city of Leuven. It is the home of Annhueser-Busch, the worlds largest brewing group! It was rocking! Streets busy, bars open. As I entered the centre a cyclist passed me going fast. 20 feet ahead of me he hit the kerb and wiped out. It was a horrible crash and he had no helmet. Just me and him. He was conscious (how?), bleeding and moaning. He gave me the emergency number (100 in Belgium) and the agent spoke English. I was trying to describe where we were (I'm a stranger and the Flemish street names are unpronounceable!). This was not going as smoothly as desired and the poor chap was audibly hurting. Fortunately two local girls came by and I gave them my phone to complete things. Job done they (a few other who had gathered) said they would stay with him and I moved on. 

Leuven looked like it would be lovely in daylight. Here is my one picture of the town. 

This is what it looks like in the day (taken from Wikipedia). It is the town hall.

Fancied another drink. Met Thomas and his friends and drank with them. He had just returned from a bike tour of the North of Scotland. In summer! Suprised he hadn't got hyperthermia.Not far to go now. 

Brussels is a big city. It starts to get a lot of traffic early - even on a Sunday.  It has a very confusing street pattern. Many streets are cobbled (badly). The Eurostar rail terminal is in an area where the Rottweilers only travel in pairs! It is not adequately signposted, I was tired, and my knee was hurting. I wanted the journey done and the world was conspiring against me. It took a long time to find the station which is large and, at 5:30 am on a Sunday, not staffed. The terminal is hard to findwithin the station and is, as far as I could see, not signposted at all. Eventually I found it. It was still closed. With some effort found the separate Euro Despatch office for my bike. Handing over Betty was straightforward. 

The rest was easy, just a matter of waiting and the usual border requirements. Boarded the train and with a sense of relief left. Once on the way a very nice guard spotted my lack of a seat and took me to an empty first class carriage and invited me to sit. Thank you. Another kind person. Too distracted to mark the leaving with a photo - I made amends at the first stop, Lille. 

On the train I reserved a seat for me and a place for Betty on the 10:45 train North. Eurostar arrived 10 minutes late but no problem. Euro Despatch in Brussels failing to use the three hours they had available to move Betty 50 meters into the train was a problem. She was still in Brussels. Here are my lonely bags looking for Betty outside Euro Despatch in London. So near, but so far. Missed the train North (obviously). 

Betty came on the next Eurostar train (arriving 13:00) and I caught the 13:28 a north from Euston.  Pretty tired by now. Arrived in Preston where a storm of Biblical proportions soaked me and Sammy as we loaded the bike onto the car. 

Two last Lord of the Rings references. The last sentence of the three books, spoken by Sam, was repeated by me when I got into the house: He drew a deep breath "Well, I'm back" he said. 😊

Finally, a line that I wanted painting on Betty's top tube but never got done. It is from the poem  All that is gold does not glitter, that appears twice in the first book of the Lord of the Rings and captures, I think, the spirit of the trip. "Not all those who wander are lost" (well, most of the time!)

That's it!  I'll write a short epilogue when I've had a few days to reflect.  many, many heartfelt thanks to those who followed me on the blog or Facebook and especially to those who write comments etc. I was never alone. 

Day 19

The morning was beautiful. Sunny but not hot. After breakfast I cycled down to the Moselle and followed the cycle path that follows the South bank of the Moselle through a park to "Deutsches Eck" (German Corner) which is the point of land which is the confluence of the Mossele and Rhine. 

Here is also probably the ugliest and most depressing monuments I have ever seen, a giant statue in honour of the German emperor William the First. 

You will notice in the picture a group of mature German cyclists. A closer examination of the area of their bikes around the pedal will show that three of them are electric bikes. This is really common, both in German cities and on the Rhine cycle route. My guide to Bingen the previous day had been on one. I think this is brilliant as less sporting, fit, or able (or lazy) people can enjoy cycle touring (which is a wonderful way to see the world). Combine this with the tens, perhaps hundreds, of thousands of kilometres of dedicated cycle ways and you see why there are so many. Put your mobility scooters away and get an electric bike!

Anyway, the depressing, vainglorious, monument was relieved by the presence of an excellent Hurdy-Gurdy man, a short video if whom is in the Smugmug album. 

I was disappointed that Koblenz, venue of my adolescent school trip, was actually very uninteresting and I departed.  Being at the confluence of two major river routes it does have some really impressive river barges parked up. Here is a picture of one such - with parking for three cars and the crane to put them ashore!

The area immediately north of Koblenz (for about 15 km) sees the Rhine Gorge temporarily less noticeable, allowing the relatively flat land around the river, combined with access to the river, to be used for logistics centres, petrol storage facilities, industrial units etc. I hurried through this and arrived back into the pretty Rhine landscape I had experienced the previous day. Pretty villages by the river framed by green hills. Regular ferries now cross between villages on each bank.

 Late morning I came across a rather nice village (Andernach) and stopped for a glass of the local produce. This picture demonstrates (if such were required) the mistake of not bringing my straighteners on the trip! Also, that wineglass is not that big. It's a perspective thing!

Refreshed I continued to casually descend the Rhine (this was to be a shorter day) until another pretty village with lovely smells remaindered me it was lunchtime. A short time later I was eating an excellently prepared super-noodle and tuna lunch. 

I have previously mentioned the school trip I took in the late 60's. This also featured a ride on the Rhine on a paddle vessel. This could have been the very same one!

After lunch I passed the "Bridge at Remagen" for those who have seen the film starring George Segal and Ribert Vaughn.   All that remains (following it being destroyed by the Germans 10 days after its capture by the Americans) are the bridge towers on either bank. 

Eventually, I came to this rather splendid, two castle, hill. The hill is actually part of the Siebengebirge (seven hills) region and The castle is Schloss Drakenberg.  It would make a splendid home for a Bond baddy.  It would, once I was opposite it, mark my exit from the Rhine. Decided I would take a swim (rude not too) which I promptly did.

Dried myself and cycled my last kilometre on the Rhine. Came opposite the magnificent pile and with a last photo of the EuroVelo route 15 way mark turned left and West. 

The benefits of the Rhine route immediately evaporated. No good way signs, no other cyclists, no great bike path, no flat riding. An hour of climbing started immediately through very pleasant rural countryside and small villages with cute churches

Passed through some deserted but clearly recently harvested strawberry fields where my larcenous thoughts were firmly suppressed!

The route also passed many fruit fields (apples, pears etc) and wild cherries and plums in ripe condition. Some fields seemed to be growing trees for, presumably, garden centres. 

Entered Rhienbach, had a magnum (ice cream not champagne) and washed Betty (who was looking very grubby) at at petrol station car wash. Decided this is where I would stop and pulled into a very nice looking bar/restaurant where I again sampled the local produce and the English speaking owner sorted me out with a room and A good, cheap, local B&B. 

Decided I would celebrate the start of the end if my journey with a really good meal at the restaurant. I did and it is the best meal I think I have ever had.  Beer to start, a fantastic Bouillabaisse, fillet steak with shallots in wine, creamed sweet potatoe, and a great sauce for mains with a fabulous Tempranillo/Merlot red. Plum schnapps for the nightcap. Back to the B&B too tired(!) to do the blog. Slept well. 

Before I slept I checked accommodation options for the end of the planned long day on Saturday which was to finish in the Liege/Namur area. Turns out hotels/B&Bs/Camping all had the availability demonstrated in Bethlemem on a famous Christmas Eve. Why, I mused? Turns out the culprit is the Belgium a Grand Prix in Spa this weekend.  Going to change my route to a more Northely one (towards Maastricht) and hope I can find something although this area, further from Spa, still looks busy. 

Day 18

The day started, at the previous had finished in Worms. Wagner's cycle of four epic operas - The Ring of the Nibelung - is based on a poem in Middle High German (the Nibelungenlied) whose scenes are set in Worms. As a result there are a couple of tourist spots dedicated to this. The Nibelungen museum (dedicated to the story) and the Nibelungen bridge over the Rhine which has an ornate bridge defence tower. Both of which I visited before I left. 

Glen and I parted company in the morning at the bridge. Glen is following the Rhine cycle route as his objective while I am cycling Zagreb-Brussels, but on a route of my choosing. I didn't want to spend another morning looking at flood defence dikes and wanted to push on the Koblenz if the day went well. Glen wanted to stick to the route and, as he had a fixed ferry date, had no reason to push on. 

I decided to cut across country and miss out a bend in the Rhine with the penalty of some hill climbing. (See below). The arrow is not literal!

I would rejoin the Rhine route at Bingen where the river enters the Rhine Gorge.

Almost immediately I climbed onto some rolling hills about 150 meters above the river and then spent the morning climbing and decending valleys and ridges between 180 and 250 meters high. This is serious wine country with the fields set out with vines in military rows. The grapes seemed about ready and testing showed them to be very sweet. No idea what grape but they were mostly black!  

The villages were much prettier than in the industrial areas around Worms though not as floriferous as the French ones. Well kept, prosperous looking, and many with signs for wineries which I assumed were open to the public. 

Some of the hills were quite sharp and the road edges were pleasingly populated by a large number of very pretty light blue thistles and the cornflowers which had kept me company most of the way from Zagreb. 

Being on my own I amused myself in this stage of the day by trying to remember Rupert Brooke's poem "The Old Vicarage Granchester" which is about missing England when he is in a hot Germany. I succeeded, with some effort, in remembering the whole of the eighteen lines of the first verse (which is the best bit in my view) and was outrageously pleased with myself!

Unlike the main cycle route, which is an M25 of touring cyclists, there were no cyclists and few cars. However, around 20km from Bingen I was slowly passed by an elderly gentleman (Elderly! Not much older than me. How depressing!) on an electric bicycle. I decided to keep up with him and we engaged in the kind of hopeless conversation that takes place when two people have no knowledge of each other's language. However, I have become skilled in this and by miming eating and saying Bingen very loudly he understood that I was heading to Bingen for lunch. He shouted, equally loudly Bingen and Zimmer, from which I understood he lived near Bingen and was returning there. I followed him, by mysterious and hidden paths known only to local cognoscenti, the 15km or so to the Rhine cycle route about 5 km outside Bingen. The advantage of this was that from the point he left the main road to the Rhine was 15km - all of it downhill. I thanked him profusely and took his picture. 

This is the last part of the Rhine flood plane before it enters the gorge and when I got to Bingen I realised I had been in these parts before. On the opposite bank was a village and monument I recognised. The village is Ruddeshiem am Rhien and my bother and I visited it on a School trip in our early teens. Spooky.

I met a very pleasant, English speaking, young lady cyclist in Bingen but as I wanted my lunch I was unable to continue the journey in her company.  Lunch was great though.

Now in the Rhine gorge I sped along at a tremendous rate on the excellent dedicated cycle path along the river bank. The gorge is decorated by riverside villages, vineyards, and castles perched high on the hill. I passed the famous (why?) Lorelei Rock on the way. The second picture (taken from Google) makes it look more interesting than mine. On it the cycle path can be seen (on the left bank between the hotels and the river)

Around five o'clock I came across a very busy and obviously popular village on my side of the river by the name of Boppard. I decided to stop and consider, over a beer, whether this would be a good spot to stop. Laura, the English speaking waitress could not, immediately, name a great place when asked. This made me think I might move on.  I checked Google maps and found to my amazement I was only 20km from Koblenz. I found a cheap room (but with a 7.6 rating) on booking.com and made Koblenz in just over an hour. I had cycled 80 miles in the day, much of it hilly, without really noticing. Happy days!  Here are some castle pictures. More on the album.