Saturday 6th June

On Saturday we awoke to rain. It just rained long enough for us to pack up our soaking wet tents and bundle them into garbage bags. Cycling was a hard slog with lots of pushing the bikes up steep hills.

One hill was so steep, Mike failed to change gears in time and had a spectacular fall, tumbling down a steep bank, arms and legs flying in all directions. Thankfully he was ok. We pushed our bikes up the rest of the way. There was no way we could cycle it.

We stopped at the top for a rest. Lynda found a table and chairs outside someones house and started laying out our fresh rolls, meats and cheese. A lady came out of the house, yelling at us.

We managed a panicked “nein sprechen zee Deutch”. The lady then started gesticulating wildly at the chairs. We think she was indicating that we could not use them. She then disappeared inside, and came out holding a cloth to wipe the chairs down, some coffee and some biscuits for us. Really sweet.

After a low 48 kms, the rain was threatening again so we found accomodation in a gasthof (backpacker style accommodation) for the night. There are no tourists here, no one speaks English here and we are having fun with our phrasebook.

Here is a poem from the evening in the restaurant:

I’m sitting in a restaurant
I really don’t know what I want
Nobody here speaks any English
So I’m having trouble choosing my dish!

Sunday 7th June

Sunday we rode a massive 85kms. It may not seem like a lot, but when we are loaded up with camping gear, cooking gear and clothes for a month, it is a struggle, especially on the hills.

We stopped off in Ulm for lunch where they had a big band playing for us in the town square.

The black clouds were looming so we waterproofed the bikes and continued on, hoping to out-race the storm. We got 5 mins out of town and it chucked it down. We sheltered amongst the trees and falling branches for about 10 minutes. Then it stopped and was a gorgeous day again.

My bum is sore upon my seat
As I cycle through fields of wheat
I think the crops are oh so pure
Until they sprayed with cow manure

Monday 8th June

Monday we rode 75 kms, up a lot of steep hills. Well, we pushed our bikes up the really steep hills.

A poem composed nearing the end of the ride:

As we cycle through fields of corn
our legs are feeling very worn
Do not worry, do not fear
We’ll soon be having our first beer

We stopped the night in Neuberg, where I managed to find beer for only 39c. So we drank a bit too much and felt a bit drunk. So we went in search of apfel strudel, but there was no apfel strudel to be found. Instead we found apfel fritters and ice cream.

We camped again and awoke to rain. Now it is time to go and pack up our wet tents – again!