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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Cycling Across Europe 