So here we are, the final day. All roads lead to Budapest. It feels a lifetime ago that I rolled off the in ferry in Dunkirk, laden with bags, without a formal plan and struck out for Ypres. I couldn’t have imagined the adventure would take me through: France, Belgium, Luxembourg, Switzerland, over the Alps, Liechtenstein, Germany, Austria, Slovakia to finish here, in Hungary.
It has been an adventure
Despite this, I’m aware that the job isn’t yet finished and so refocus to the immediate tasks at hand: namely: packing the bags for the final time and heading out to the open road.
The penultimate night
The final hostel was a good one. Located just meters from Esztergom Basilica, it provided a solid base to head out and explore this historic city. I joked upon entering Switzerland of its place at the top of The Economist’s Big Mac Index and the eye-watering cost of touring there. Hungary provides a perfect counterbalance to this with my monstrous cheese covered schnitzel and accompanying beers totalling a competitive £6. Exhausted from another 100 miles in the saddle I arrived back at the room, brushed my teeth and celebrated the final night of cycle touring by crashing out in my clothes. No one said this was glamourous!
Today is much shorter distance, along a section famed to be highly picturesque and enjoyable. Despite this, I find myself desperate to finish. It’s intriguing how the presence of the finish line can completely alter the mindset. I guess having travelled so far I’m nervous that a missed connection, mechanical failure or lapse in judgement could snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. However, the riding is good, path picturesque and I eventually settle into a rhythm. Over the course of the morning progress is halted twice by extended waits for ferries, as I accept that I’ll arrive eventually and start to savour the final moments of the trip.
The Citadella is a fortification towering 450ft above Budapest, providing stunning aerial panoramas back over the city. Following a month of spectacular experiences, I can’t think of a more fitting finale than to climb one last hill, figuratively plant my flag in the ground, and bring an end to this wonderful adventure. Appropriately, it’s a steep gradient in the hot midday sun, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Nothing worth having in life is easy to attain and I enjoy this final effort.
Success!!
As I stand atop the hill, soaking in the magnificent views, I feel an overwhelming sense of appreciation. What an absolute privilege it has been to have this experience. And now, as I write this, I want to thank you for reading this blog and joining me on this adventure. Finally, if you’re in any way inspired to go out and seek adventure of your own – I can’t recommend it highly enough. It starts by leaving the front door…
An early morning call from reception set the tone for what was a wonderful day. The part has arrived. Aware of the full context, they’re as excited about this development as I am as they smilingly hand over the parcel and watch as I depart with alacrity.
Freedom
A gruff Scottish accent welcomes me as I flusteredly rack the bike and launch into the umpteenth retelling of ‘shiftergate’, explain that I’d spoken to Viktor and he’d agreed to see my bike. “Oh yeah, he’s expecting you”. Thank god!
The best cycle shops are those where you walk in and feel as though you’re catching up with friends. Despite being in the middle of Bavaria, there’s a Scotsman, Irishman and Welshman in the workshop, so with my arrival we form an unlikely quadrumvirate covering the British Isles. Viktor, hailing from Bulgaria, further contributes to the cross-European feel as we trade stories about our exploits on two wheels, including the glamorous “Munich to Milton Keynes” trip one of the mechanics completed last year. It also transpires that Viktor is a former Bulgarian downhill champion. These guys are pure bikers through and through.
Trek Cycles Munich North
It goes without saying that Viktor’s work on the bike was exemplary, but what really elevated Trek Cycles Munich North was the manner at which they extended a familial feel. Top blokes, great store and I’d urge anyone requiring any bike related works completing to drop by. Great coffee too.
It’s 90 miles to Salzburg: city of Mozart, The Sound of Music and UNESCO world heritage. The day has marched on and it’s gone 14:00 by the time I finally depart Munich. Despite knowing it’s going to be a late arrival I’m ecstatic to be touring again, a feeling which lingers despite the series of red lights accompanying the escape from the city.
The cycling is a mixture of average cycle paths and busy, yet perfectly tarmacked, roads. Conscious of the mileage outstanding and keen to see the sights, I opt predominantly to dice with the traffic and make excellent progress with a stiff tailwind.
Of course, we’re now in deepest, darkest Bavaria and the occasional cycle paths reflect that. Those with a nervous disposition should prepare themselves for extended periods pedalling alone through their very own Grimm fairy-tale. Thankfully this too had a happy ending and before too long I find myself back out in the sunshine – the trail of breadcrumbs modernised to a GPS track on my phone.
If you go down to the woods today…
Lakes, Alps and working gears – what more could you want?
As one approaches Salzburg the topography changes. Peaks frame the horizon and lakes glisten as the sun lowers in the sky. It’s evenings like this where it’s a privilege to be on the bike. The novelty of seamless gear changes hasn’t worn off and I feel deeply contented clipping off the final few kilometres.
Enjoying the evening session
Having overspent on accommodation in Munich, I’ve opted to stay in a hostel tonight, repeating an experience I’ve not had since being a backpacker some years ago. I assume I’ll be so tired from exploits on the bike that sleep will come easily. I needn’t have worried. Sharing bathrooms was a faff and it was a pain not being able to splay out all my kit, but on balance I enjoyed the company. They’ve modernised substantially in recent years with clean rooms, key card operated lockers and importantly safe bike storage.
All the glamour on this tour
Despite the late hour, I head into town to find dinner and explore. Sat astride the river Salzach, Salzburg is a picture perfect town of bridges, churches and palaces.
Salzburg by night
Rich with history, it’s not long before I chance across Mozart’s Geburtshaus. A strikingly yellow building, presumably it’s a tremendous place to reflect on Mozart’s legacy and observe the authentically recreated 18th century apartment of his youth. It’s also a fabulous place to pick up bread and a pint of milk as for some baffling reason, the planners have allowed a Spar supermarket to open on the ground floor. Joking aside, Salzburg is remarkably scenic and I look forward to a day of peddling through the famously melodically mortal hills in the morning.
Brush up on your history and pick up a pint of milk. Mozart’s Geburtshaus has it all
A long weekend in Munich: city of beer halls, sprawling parks, great coffee shops, rich history and striking architecture. While mostly an opportunity to sightsee and relax, repairs need to be arranged for my limping machine. So, 4 days are spent phoning local bike shops trying to source both the necessary part and labour required to fit it. Easier said than done. Technology moves quickly, and my antiquated 10-speed system isn’t stocked by any of the (many) local stores I call. Thankfully I’m able to locate the component online (via the excellent https://www.bike-components.de/), leaving only labour to arrange. It transpires that Covid has caused a city-wide backlog for bike servicing. Countless store owners interestedly listen to my tale “that I’ve cycled from the UK, am headed to Budapest and need their help”, before darkly quoting an affectless 5 week wait to see the bike.
As I’m starting to consider the workability of continuing without repairing the gears, I secure a slot across the other side of the city for Tuesday morning. The difference? The guy (Viktor) on the other end of the phone is a pure biker, has toured before and understands my plight. He’s willing to move things around to get me back on the road. Legend. More on Viktor and the incredible team at Trek Bicycle Munich North in the coming days.
Running through the English Garden
Home to the English Garden, one of the world’s largest urban parks with 75km of internal roads footpaths and bridle paths, Munich is a fantastic city for running. Starting out from the Holiday Inn Munich City Centre, I follow the bends of the River Isar before completing a wide loop of the park and returning through the historic city centre.
When working or travelling I make a point of getting out for a decent run, taking recommendations as to where to head. The English Garden is right up there with other bucket list city runs such as the Tiergarten – Berlin, Hyde Park – London and Central Park – New York. Plus, it has a surfable wave which is a fabulous novelty.
Gnarly waves dude
Another highlight comes on Sunday in the form of visiting Annika in Augsburg, a short train ride from Munich and one of Germany’s oldest cities. Annika has adopted a Romanian street dog (Finn) who arrives today after a 1400km journey of his own! A scruffy, nervous but cute little thing, it’s remarkable to see how his confidence grows hour by hour as he adapts to his new home. Finn’s a fine companion, drawing plenty of attention as we stroll the local parks, catch up and see the sights.
Augsburg
The extended stay allows me to address the administration I’ve been neglecting on the road. As you tour, the range of kit you utilise tends to distil to a few core items. Despite carrying a set of camping gear I’m yet to camp due to the abundance of well-priced (and roofed) accommodation. Extrapolating this trend, and with reluctance, the camping equipment is posted home. Carrying the tent was welcome insurance against not finding a bed, but the weight penalty of this policy (which seems highly unlikely to be redeemed) makes it a risk I’m willing to accept hereon in. I am aware, of course, of the utter ludicrousness of lugging: a tent, camping mat and sleeping bag over The Alps, just to send them back unused but have every confidence they’ll be used extensively on future adventures. I also take the opportunity to send home my road bike cleats in favour of the recessed (and consequently endlessly more practical) mountain bike alternative.
Munich is a wonderful city, but somewhat alienating during a pandemic. Social distancing has a particularly profound effect on place famed for its bonhomie. The usually packed and social benches of Hofbräuhaus are half empty, with interaction beyond your group discouraged. I’ve had some excellent meals, spent time with wonderful people and enjoyed taking in the sights but for now I’m quite looking forward to getting back on the road. I will return, in force and sans-bike, for the full hop-fuelled Bavarian experience in the near future!
The Velominati, self-elected “keepers of the cog” and all round authority on cycling etiquette suggest that should you draw race number 13, you should “turn the number upside down to counter-act its negative energy”. I am not a superstitious man, but in prospect it seems fitting that the day fraught with the most potential peril falls on Day 13 of the trip.
Starting the day in the bike shop
Anne’s bike shop is a convenient 2 minute downhill spin from the hotel, so I freewheel my way to arrive for opening. This is the middle of rural Bavaria, and I’m greeted by a pair of friendly local mechanics. Owing to my shameful lack of German, we’re able to communicate through our shared language of all-things bike. The diagnosis is quick (brandishing the shorn shifter probably helped), but sadly the prognosis is grim – this is an outdated and rare component. Not only do they not have it in stock, but they suspect it’ll be tricky to find anywhere in Germany. They are able, however, to ‘lock’ the chain in the middle of the rear cassette – to provide a single more manageable gear than the ‘top-gear’ it currently sits in. Ladies and gentlemen, the tour will have to continue on a fixie!
Despite spending 20 minutes working on my bike, re-lubing the chain and inflating the tyres, the mechanics refuse any payment. It’s occasions like this that you’re reminded of the fraternal nature of the cycling community. Thank you to Anne’s Bike Shop – Ottobeuren.
So with that, the task at hand becomes clear. With no local resolution possible, I’m going to cycle to Munich, in the hope of locating the labour and parts required to restore my bike to full functionality. The kicker? This 70 mile journey will be in a single gear. A quick check of the map reveals I’m in luck – Bavaria is rolling, but certainly not overly hilly.
Status update from the banks of Ammersee
It’s a pleasant route, winding through farms on minor open roads. Again, there’s a simplicity to the task at hand. With just the single gear, it’s not possible to push the pace so I soak up the sunshine and enjoy the rustic views. The road ramps to 10% every now and then, forcing me to hammer away at the pedals to stay upright, but for the most part it’s uneventful, methodical and dare I say rather enjoyable.
So far so good
When Lake Ammersee rolls into sight, just 25km from Munich City Centre, I know that success is within reach and it’s not long before a series of red lights, divergent cycle paths and traffic signal the approach of a major city. It’s a sound strategy in these situations to shadow a local, for they will know when to gamble and when to be patient. Following this approach I follow a top-knotted chap (on a rather splendid steel city bike) right into the Neo-Gothic heart of Marienplatz.
Mission accomplished – Marienplatz
Mission accomplished. Now to check into the Holiday Inn Munich City Centre, get changed and head out to celebrate. Serendipitously, it transpires that a friend I first met in the Whitsunday Islands four years ago also happens to be in Munich for the evening and kindly extends the offer to join them for pizza and vino. Fabulous company, great to catch up and we plan to meet in Augsburg (one of the oldest Cities in Germany I’m reliably informed) on Sunday.
Check in get changed and head out!
In retrospect, it was fortunate the shifter snapped when it did. While cycling 150km in a single gear was inconvenient, it would have been truly catastrophic had it failed 3 days ago while slogging up an Alp. It introduced a degree of intrigue and challenge into today’s potentially humdrum route and will force me to spend a few more days in Munich, catching up with friends and experiencing a marvellous city. Perhaps the number 13 isn’t so unlucky after all.
Countries: Austria, Switzerland and Germany. Distance: 120km
If, for some bizarre reason, you had to rank the best breakfasts for cycling, ham salad wouldn’t make it anywhere near the list. This likely set the tone for what proved to be an incredibly testing day in the saddle. Again, I’m undecided on where to head today (can you see a theme developing here?), so will cycle to Lake Constance and commit from there.
After a fleeting foray onto Austrian soil I’m back in Switzerland and again have The Rhine for company. The skies are ominously grey and soon launch the opening salvo in what will prove to be a day long deluge. Eventually a drenched, disillusioned and grumpy Sam arrives in Bregenz, on the banks of Lake Constance. If Lake Lucerne was fifty shades of blue, today we’re dealing with a single shade of grey.
One shade of grey
I take the opportunity to chain drink coffee and FaceTime my parents. They’re pretty good at contextualising the situation and taking their advice I opt to strike out for Munich. Many of my fondest memories involve cycling with my Dad, who has patiently changed my punctures and designed tours together from a young age (from my first ‘proper’ 4-mile bike ride as a toddler to trail laps of Menorca). Spirits lifted, it’s time to push on – with a clear plan and destination.
It’s a lot easier when someone else designs the route!
Come mid-morning it’s time for another blissfully uneventful border crossing, this time into Germany. The route to Munich doesn’t follow a Eurovelo path, so again I’ll be relying on Google Maps and my wits (ha.) to navigate a course. Despite my marginally sunnier disposition post pep-talk, today’s adversary, the weather, has also taken the opportunity to strengthen her resolve and is launching a full-scale aquatic assault. Positively (and thankfully) my bikepacking bags (Ortlieb Handlebar Bag,Alpkit Analoko Frame Bag, Tailfin ‘Panniers’) withstand the deluge admirably. The forecast suggests the weather isn’t going to improve so I push on.
Little pomp accompanies the border crossings
You need to experience the downs to fully appreciate the ups. I must confess, by mid-afternoon my temperament is as dark as the storm clouds as I peel off the road to take shelter in a deserted children’s play area. This is not how one imagines a cycle tour, but it’s all part of the experience. I’d urge anyone planning a trip to prepare for such an eventuality.
A cycle touring reality check – LIVE from a play area!
Little did I know the cycling gods had saved a final coup de grâce to crown a historically hellacious day. German cycle paths take in a series of minor roads and gritty trail. As I’m riding one of the trail sections, flitting through the gears to find a more manageable option, I hear a crack and feel the gear change lever snap cleanly into my glove. I bring the bike to a stop and stare dumbfounded at this now useless length of carbon fibre. I’m in the middle of nowhere, it’s pissing it down, and I’ve just lost the ability to change gear. To compound the problem, the bike has failed in the smallest (read hardest) cog, so any further movement will require me laying down the watts! Hastily re-planning, I find an open hotel some 30 kilometres down the road and have no option but to ride in my one remaining gear. While rainy, thankfully the gradients are gentle and I grind out the distance without further drama.
Problem.
Never, in all my life, have I been so pleased to arrive at a destination. I’ve ended up at the Hotel St Ulrich in the Bavarian town of Ottobeuren. As luck would have it, it’s an attractive spa town and enjoyable place to spend an evening. The hotel owners, reading the stress written across my face, are fabulously warm and kind, offering to assist in drying my many bags and finding safe bicycle storage for the night.
Basic but comfortable
Some days, you just need a beer. I find a Chinese restaurant in town, order a mountain of comforting warm food and unwind. There isn’t much a warm meal and cold beer can’t fix. As luck would have it I see there’s a bike shop in Ottobeuren opening at 8am the following day. I’ll be there. The bill comes and I’m amused to see that pro-rata beer is cheaper than water. Welcome to Germany.
By the end of the meal I’m feeling relaxed and ready for my bed. Even without the mechanical, today required resilience to push through. I figure that tough times make tough people and one day I’ll laugh about a day from hell spent battling through Bavaria.
Countries: Switzerland, Liechtenstein, Austria – 114km
A day on The Rhine
Today promises an intriguing day in prospect as we reverse direction to follow The Rhine downriver from its source in the Swiss Alps through Liechtenstein and towards Lake Constance in the North East. This means reacquainting with Eurovelo 15 (The Rhine Route), which we previously followed upriver from Strasbourg to Basle.
Breakfast for one?!
Fabulous night’s sleep. To keep costs down I’ve been booking the most reasonable accommodation available and enjoyed the cosy single bed on offer in this traditional family run guesthouse. The restaurant was closed last night (I suspect I’m the only visitor), so I made do with the assorted protein bars, fruit and snacks I had stashed in my bag. Consequently I’m ravenous come the morning and am cheered to hear that the third generation family owner used to work as a chef with Gordon Ramsey. While boiled eggs fall a long way short of his gastronomic ability, it’s a good spread with thoughtful touches such as homemade jam and granola.
It’s a day for the rain jacket as continue the long descent towards Chur. After an unremarkable start the cycle path soon peels away from the main road and winds back up into the mountains, bringing further spectacular landscapes.
Don’t look down!
While harder, I’ve always found that it is elevation that makes any form of exercise (be it a hike, cycle or otherwise) interesting. Without exception a view is always more enjoyable when it has been earned. This road is remarkable and climbs a thousand feet before trading back the height through a series of switchbacks.
Stunning views (and still climbing!)
As has been the case throughout Switzerland, the cycle paths have been excellent today and amid darkening skies soon lead back to the riverside. Along this section The Rhine forms the border between Switzerland and Liechtenstein and I, a country-counting obsessed Millennial, cross the river to explore the Liechtensteinian countryside and capital Vaduz.
Cross the river and see a new country or stick to this excellent path…? An easy decision!
Sadly the weather doesn’t allow for this diminutive country to shine, and I spend the majority of the time taking cover under bridges, trees or wherever else I can escape the torrent. I am able, however, to pass Rheinpark Stadium, a place that commentators never tire of pointing can host nearly 20% of Liechtenstein’s population (despite having a capacity of just 7,500).
A very wet Liechtenstein 🇱🇮
Having now pedalled through the whole country (it runs just 25km from South to North), I make a quick roadside supermarket pit-stop for dinner and cross the border into Austria to find my Airbnb. Time to dry off and rest before journeying into Germany tomorrow.
You know you’re exhausted when you ride 99.1 miles and can’t face the idea of adding the extra mile required to make it to triple figures!
After back to back 200km epics, I wake up, figuratively, on the wrong side of bed. Today offers a host of potential highlights: border crossings, mountains, and (all going well – for nothing is ever guaranteed when cycle touring) a destination famed for its lacustrine beauty.
However, heading out, I’m not aware of this as beyond Basle as I’ve not decided on destination. The combination of fatigue and uncertainty is weighing heavily as I depart the hotel and set upon locating the cycle path. This is punctuated briefly by a man yelling “ALLEZ, ALLEZ, ALLEZ” as I leave the saddle to crest a tiny bridge, which has me smiling until I happen upon Eurovelo 6, “The Route of The Rivers” for the first time.
Hello EV6!
Eurovelo 6 is the most popular of the Eurovelo routes, and in its entirety would take you from the Atlantic coast of France along flatlands and rivers all the way to the Black Sea in Romania. This initial foray will be brief, a cool 30km to Basle, but we’ll be picking it up again in the not-too-distant future as we negotiate the gentle bends of the Danube.
Initial impressions are excellent. Eurovelo paths are always passable, but certain sections are undoubtably better than others. This is one of the finest thus far as regular signposts accompany an easy approach towards Basle. While not in Switzerland, yet, it’s a positive harbinger of what’s waiting on the other side of the fast approaching border. And what’s better than crossing a border between two countries I hear you ask? Crossing a border between three – for to finally arrive in Switzerland one must cross the Three Countries Bridge, a civilised, unmarshalled triumph of open-bordered cooperation between France, Switzerland and Germany.
The Three Countries Bridge
While signs and flags are all well and good, you can equally deduce you’ve arrived in Switzerland by spotting the brightly coloured drybags being dragged by locals taking a dip in the river. It’s an incongruous sight, as The Rhine is both wide and powerful and we’re in the middle of a major city. Can you imagine the equivalent in London?! As I’m sat watching this, I decide upon Lucerne as my next destination – it’s a town I’m keen to visit, a good spot for a rest day, and most importantly a well-located base from which to tackle an assault on the Alps.
The first few miles leaving Basle aren’t quite what you’d expect when imagining Switzerland, a place which evokes images of great Alpine summits (home to the historic Matterhorn, Jungfrau and Eiger peaks), expansive lakes (Lac Léman, Zürichsee, Lucerne) and rolling plush green meadows. The surroundings of Basle, being an international powerhouse in the pharmaceutical and chemical industries, are correspondingly industrial. The day is scorching, my Achilles is starting to creak and to complete the triumvirate, my road-cleats have finally given up. The most pleasurable days touring are those where the distances are comfortably achievable, which allows you to “look up and smell the roses”. Today isn’t one of those days. Lucerne is still 110km away, so every moment lost to unforeseen issues compounds the time pressure, but you have to keep you chin up, deal with each occurrence as it arises and get on with it. Thankfully, there’s now a new set of signs to follow and I’ll be taking Swiss Route 3 all the way to The Alps.
The issue with route planning on the fly is that it can lead you to overlook key details. In Northern Europe, you often get away with this as the topography is flat. Once you reach Switzerland, I would urge you to do your homework. The good news is that the Switzerland I had imagined has arrived, it’s every bit as green, plush and picturesque as one would envisage. The roads are smooth, drivers respectful and vistas stunning. The slightly more challenging news is that it’s also utterly vertiginous. Now I’m not adverse to a good climb, in fact in normal circumstances, ascending on a bike is probably my favourite part of cycling. Climbing with a full set of bags is altogether a different beast. It strips you of your ego, and leaves you hoping you have a gear small enough to crawl up the mountainside – which is how you find me now, huffing and puffing my way up the Schafmatt Pass. If I had done my due diligence, I would have known that this climb is over 2,000ft and takes you to the highest part of the canton. I haven’t, so after each switchback I glance up the serpentine ribbon of tarmac and wonder when (and frankly if) it’ll ever finally relent. Of course, eventually the tree cover thins, the views open and the road flattens. Exhausted and ravenous, I take the opportunity to pull off the road, inhale whatever snacks I have remaining and engage in a lovely chat with a German family who have driven down from Hamburg. Feeling spent after this morning (and frankly the whole week’s) exploits, it’s cheering to share details of our respective journeys and forget about the daunting distance that lays ahead.
Up, up and away
The first law of thermodynamics states that energy cannot be created or destroyed but converted from one form to another. In my case, this is largely in the form of heat as I transfer that hard-earned gravitational potential energy into the brake blocks. This is my first meaningful descent (over 500ft) and I’m still adapting to how the bike handles under load. Regardless, the views are open, surface smooth and I’m grateful to enjoy cover the next 5km without having to turn the pedals.
2000ft later…What goes up must come down
Beyond floating dry bags, another sure-fire way to establish you’re in Switzerland is by observing the impact on your wallet. The day has marched on, and by 6pm, with 60km to cover, I realise I’m out of snacks and water and pull into Subway. A foot-long sub, plus drinks to refill the bidons runs to £25. A real-world example of Switzerland’s proud position at the top of The Economist’s Big Mac Index!
Switzerland… need I say more?
Mercifully, the final 60km is flat and with the roads largely to myself I FaceTime my parents to while away the distance. It’s now, while enjoying the warm evening sun that I catch my first glimpse of The Alps, framed against the blue sky far on the horizon. No longer conceptual, the goal I’ve been striving towards is now very real, and within striking distance. This provides all the motivation required and before too long I arrive at the hotel, ready for a hot shower, cold beer and a long, comfortable sleep.
Say hello to The Alps
Fabulous modern hotel room – Holiday Inn Express Lucerne – Kriens
Strava tells me I’ve cycled 961 kilometres (597 miles) this week and I’m utterly exhausted. My plan for the next couple of days? Eat donuts, explore Lucerne and recharge. Good night
200 kilometers, 3 countries: Luxembourg, France and Germany
Yuuuuuuuuuuge day!
Big day! I did not expect to be writing this 200km down the road from Luxembourg City, but sometimes everything comes together.
Anna’s (Airbnb) flat was warm, so I found myself waking up super early. As opposed trying to get more sleep, I start riding in the hope of finishing early. I’ve pre-booked accommodation in Saarbrucken, just 100km down the road from Luxembourg in anticipation of easing back into this touring lark. The planned route sweeps through Luxembourgian vineyards to Schengen, past the Schengen monument (memorialising the signing of the Schengen open borders agreement some 30 years ago), before flowing through a hilly series of French towns and into Germany. The conditions are superb, with a fierce tailwind blowing me East, and it seems to be shaping up to be an easy day.
Luxembourg Bike Wash (didn’t see another one all trip!)
A final note on Luxembourg and her wonderful cycling infrastructure – some 10km outside Luxembourg City I happen upon a bike washing station adjacent to the Eurovelo. It’s this kind of thoughtful touch that really allows Luxembourg to stand out as an incredibly cycle friendly country. I make use of the facilities, ignoring the fact that I spent a good hour the day before wiping the bike down with stacks of baby wipes – Doh!
A very sleepy looking hello from the border
Before long, the vineyards are behind me and I’m at Schengen. I snap a few photos, record a few videos and am on my way. Of course, in each of these videos I mistakenly identify the river separating Luxembourg from Germany as The Rhine, so all the videos are useless. However, if this question ever arises in a pub quiz, I will confidently reply that it’s, in fact, The Mosel that separates the two! (The Rhine is in fact a long way East from here, with the Saar coming before The Rhine). Don’t you worry, we’ll be seeing plenty of The Rhine over the coming days.
Schengen 🇪🇺
The topography changes sharply across The Mosel, with the hills coming thick and fast. However, it’s not hard for long and this graft is rewarded with a wonderful descent down to the Saar valley. Now a problem (a welcome problem!) – the morning’s progress has been sensational and by 1pm I’m already in the industrial town of Saarbrucken. As opposed to calling it a day and hanging up my shoes, I decide to make the most of the favourable conditions and pedal on. Who knows where I’ll end up.
50 shades of beige
Lunch is fabulously, Germanically beige (Wurst and potato salad). The hours tick by and come 5pm I’ve not chosen any accommodation. I still feel fresh but there’s no reasonable accommodation for miles. I opt for a branded budget hotel, despite the fact it’ll require a 200km day to reach and pedal on. At least this shortens the next day! Upon arrival, maddeningly and with 200km in the legs, there’s a sign on the door saying it’s closed due to Coronavirus and that I should head into town (5km) to stay in their sister hotel. Character building stuff.
Upon arrival it’s rather nice, I’m proud of a 200km day and am pleased to see progress on the map. That blue line is slowly closing in on The Alps!
Countries: Belgium and Luxembourg (and a border crossing!) – 122km
Part 1: Rain and despair! Part 2: Delightful riding on wonderful cycle paths
The great hospitality resumed today with a fantastic breakfast. Also, Rhubarb Jam – have you ever tried it? No, nor had I until this morning. Life changing.
Pretty great start to the day
Now after the heights of breakfast, spirits fell quickly. It’s wet outside. We’re talking Belgian Grand Prix 1998 wet (seriously, YouTube, I promise you won’t be disappointed), or if you prefer a biblical/literary reference Noah’s Arc wet. I’m sure Jay from The Inbetweeners would find another way to describe just how wet it was. It’s 20km to re-discover the Eurovelo following yesterday’s diversion, with 600ft of climbing in the first 3 miles. Perfect, a good opportunity to warm up right? Absolutely, but what goes up must come down and before I know it, I’m throwing on a merino base layer from the bag and trying the breathe life into my freezing fingers – it’s June!
Now, picking up on the meandering Eurovelo theme, and in recognition of the conditions, I again play Google Maps roulette to trim down the distance in the rain. A gamble too far and before I know it, I’m on such a rough surface that I’ve damage the fancy new pannier set on my bike – having to stop in the rain to perform a bush-repair with rubber puncture repair kit and gaffer tape. It holds so I can return to the task of mentally cursing Sundar Pichai and berating myself for not bloody learning from previous experience. With all the delays, poor route selection and general dithering I cover just 28 miles before lunch. However, the day is about to pick up and a wonderful afternoon is in store. Why you ask? We’re about to cross the border into Luxembourg!
Left: loads of fun on a Gravel Bike, not so much on a roadie. Right: Metal on metal wearing away the paint
I’m still at the stage where crossing any border excites me (does the novelty ever truly pass?) particularly under my own steam. Last year, following a classic Maid of the Mist/Hornblower mix up (one leaves from the Canadian side, the other from the US) , Jo and I crossed the mighty Niagara river over Rainbow Bridge from Canada into the US and recall the quiet satisfaction in crossing that invisible divisive line (shortly followed by the very visible immigration and customs offices at the end of the bridge!).
Flashback – 🇨🇦 to 🇺🇸
Again, a year earlier, the same feeling as I crossed Israeli/Jordanian border with a couple of good mates, (in altogether sterner conditions!). Thankfully in Europe, the borders are porous, but this doesn’t detract from the enjoyment.
Flashback – 🇮🇱 to 🇯🇴
So, a new frontier, an unvisited country and another tick in the ongoing game to check off as many countries as possible. Initial impressions are fantastic – Luxembourg’s cycle paths are wide, tarmacked and impeccably signed. The views are good, and I’m enjoying the array of friendly bovine livestock grazing alongside the track.
Luxembourg Border!
🐂🐄
When the going is good, you don’t really feel the kilometres clip by, but before I know it, I’ve been in Luxembourg for 80km and am in the capital – ready for my first rest day and keen to explore! Drop the bags, shower and head out for beer, dinner and vino. All in all, a memorable day.
Cycling Across Europe 