Miscellaneous Reflections, Thoughts and Considerations

Making a bike tour in Germany is not all about the bike, as there are many other considerations and observations required. Here is a list for you to ponder.

1. Someone has to drive the car. This means missing out on a riding day, which can be convenient depending on 'skin tears', bruising, tiredness or some other ailment or other that may make being on the bike more perilous than necessary. It also means navigating. Fortunately, our commodious Skoda is equipped with a satellite navigation system, otherwise known as a GPS, and the melodious voice of Emily can guide the driver in and out of narrow streets on the way into old towns, take on the best on a German Autobahn and find otherwise tucked away villages too small to make a mark on our maps. For us accustomed to driving on the left, the hardest thing is making a left-hand turn on a multi-lane road or street, and ending up on the right-hand side of the road. Other tricks include learning to turn on the indicator lights, not the windscreen wipers; and getting the hang of positioning the car in the middle of the lane rather than too far to the right which can lead to mounting gutters and knocking over rubbish bins.

Various glass recyling bins.

2. We generate rubbish, or Mull, as the Germans call it. But most of what we think of as rubbish is recycling material for Germans. There are usually three receptacles just for glass which must be sorted according to colour: white, green or brown. There are special places for metal, paper and compost. Supermarkets usually have a bottle - including plastic bottles - sucker-up machine adjacent to the foyer. One inserts bottles and Euros come out of a slot. Quite the incentive, it seems. I'm not sure as yet where the plastic bag goes - perhaps that is all that should be put in the Mull pile. As you can imagine, getting this system right can cause stress, so much so that we have just bagged up stuff - not bottles or cans though - and carried our crap off to a nearby public bin and shoved it in hoping that CCTV cameras are not trained on us. And there are many bins for clothing and shoes in towns and villages. Once, I was trying to find a laundromat - Waschsalon in German - and a kind young woman directed me to the clothing recycle bin. 

3. Shooting deer is a national pastime. I'm not sure how many are shot, but spotting towers dot the countryside everywhere. Those proud of their kill may mount the skeletal heads complete with antlers attached, onto pieces of timber and screw these plaques to some wall or other. One toilet I went into had seven small skulls hanging from the walls.

4. Outside clothes lines are rare. This in a country where wind towers are as common as the deer spotting towers and thousands upon thousands of half-acres are planted out with solar panels. 

5. Everything is clean. And I mean everything. We have passed many people sweeping a few leaves and some dust from the street in front of their house using a small brush and pan, and those intent on tweezering out tiny weeds growing between paving stones seem to be endlessly occupied. It wasn't until we got to Bamberg, a city of 75,000, 15,000 of whom are university students, that we noticed weeds in public and private places, and a more relaxed approach to external perfection.

6. If the red hair dye manufacturers went on strike, German women would call on Angela Merkel to declare a state of national emergency.

7. Not just a little tractor will do when you can have one or two or three, even, humongous beasts to roam around your small fields, ploughing, spreading liquid manure, raking and hay-bale collecting. It is good that farmyards are built on a grand scale to house these creatures of German industry.

8. Germany is a riot of floral splendor. Window boxes abound, yes, even on cow barns. Bridges are bedecked with hanging baskets, windowsills sport those long-flowering orchids (along with so much other 'stuff' - Kitsch indeed) pots of red geraniums decorate Biergartens and domestic gardens mix cottage favourites, including roses, with vegetables, fruit trees and grassy verges. As per point 5, everything is trimmed, dead-headed and swept presenting an immaculate picture for the passerby.

A small bridge bedecked with hanging baskets.

9. There is nothing that Germans like better than a good old beer-fueled summer festival. Out from the wardrobes or newly purchased from the shop come the Dirndls and Lederhosen - yes, even up north there are costumes similar in nature to the Bavarian ones you might recognise - and out they go: with the dog or without; with the kids costumed or not; with grandma and grandpa most definitely. There must be huge potteries somewhere making all those ceramic steins, only a few of which end up as shards on the street on Sunday morning.

Bamberg celebrations.

The boys in Regensburg.

10. When entering each town there is at least one sign, sometimes more, advising the days and time when mass or communion is celebrated. This is because each town has at least one Catholic, and, more than likely, at least one other Christian-denomination church.

I have not as yet seen any mosques in the countryside. Michael said that recent asylum seeker arrivals have been housed in communities throughout the nation, the number in proportion to the overall original population. Sounds sensible. There they wait for processing, unable to work and living in a variety of accommodation including guests houses and youth hostels. Our contact with the recent arrivals has been very limited.

Once upon a time...

...we rode The Fairytale Route, circling the large city of Kassel. Leaving Gottingen we headed to a very different German town, Bad Karlshafen, high in the hills, only found through swathes of forest and villages that can only be located on large-scale maps.

Sally contemplating a hill.

Maggie marvelling at a 25% gradient.

True to its name, there was a modern bathing house on the river, so I took the water cure along wth tens of aged and bronzed Germans, some wearing swimming attire nearly as old as themselves, affording me views of wrinkled nether regions and equally wrinkled attendant bits. (At least they did not have face cloths on their heads, as is the preference of some at the Maribyrnong swimming pool.) But the most striking thing about Bad Karlshafen is its architecture: white squared-off buildings standing along wide streets, and residences constructed from stone the colour of stewed nectarines, giving it the air of a French or perhaps Spanish settlement. The hostel we stayed in was a former sanitarium perched on a hill to take in the views and the air. We BBQed our hearts out.

Graeme keeping the home fires burning.

Imagine listening to tales of Little Red Riding Hood while tucked up in  bed in the attic...

Next town on our list was Zierenberg, further uphill and deeper into the forest. We arrived on a Saturday amidst preparations for a mountain bike race to be held the next morning. Funnily enough, the organizers all could have been organizers of an Australian bike event - lean men with cropped hair, bulging calf muscles and a disdain for riders like us, who, goddamit, even had a duck cable-tied to one of their bikes! The highlights  of the day were two: riding through a former rail tunnel where we met a couple who told us about their rides through the countryside as well as a ride they took from Seville to Madrid; and climbing to the castle where Rapunzel was imprisoned, a little off our route, but worth the climb.

You can see Rapunzel's hair cascading down if you look hard.

The tunnel which we rode through twice.

Hard to find a coffee but eventually we came across a larger town and made good with a supermarket bakery.

You get to meet all sorts along the Radwegs, and these German women were friendly, and like most we speak to, amazed that people from Australia would come to Germany to ride a bike. Germans tend to believe that the best cycling in the world is in Holland. Personally, I cannot agree.

The team in action.

Next morning we stopped off at Wolfhagen and amused ourselves with the story of the wolf and the seven goats, only one of which remained in the town square statue.

The only wolf I have spotted in Germany.

Coffee and cake in the old Watchhouse, watched over by groups of older men enjoying a smorgasbord breakfast.

Des does like a good cream cake.

After the learn pickings at our guesthouse earlier in the day, we were sorely tempted, but refrained. More climbing and more forest, we rode into Fritzlar, where the definite highlight was the last day of a three-day Kaiser festival. Men, women and children dressed in medieval gear prowled the cobbled streets, bands struck up a tune or two, blacksmiths wrought implements from red-hot iron, horse-head minstrels wandered through the crowds who were enjoying en masse lots of beer, baked pork rolls, more beer, and fairy floss for the kids. I resisted the urge to purchase a sword and challenge Maureen to a duel. 

Our next town was Neukirchen, so small that it didn't even appear on the bike signs until we were 10kms distant. A pleasant day's riding through fields and valleys, up hills - again - and down into villages. Our wildlife spotting yielded two white swans protecting two cygnets, lots of herons, the odd stork, many small hawks and endless flocks of sparrows. I looked out for a deer, but the one spotted on day 2 of this route remains the sole entrant. There was never a shortage of apples along the wayside however, so no wonder the wicked stepmother chose one to tempt Snow White.

Apples for Snow White and the horses on a Sunday trot.

We didn't make it to Sleeping Beauty's castle - too high up and an 18km detour. I know, wimps we are.

Our guesthouse, although boasting a pleasant beer garden, did not permit BBQs, so we took ourselves down to the grassy banks beside a small stream and baked and grilled into the evening. And you know the best bit? Pinging red-hot BBQ coals into the water where they banged like a gun, smoked a lot and sailed off downstream. It was especially delicious because we had already been told by some busybody chap that we had to clean up after ourselves, and as we were women, good at both cleaning and breastfeeding, he hoped we did a good job of it. Umm. Not one of our best encounters, perhaps.

Picnic BBQ on the stream.

The ride into Rotenburg an der Fulda goes down as the best 80km ride of the trip. It began with a gentle 15km climb, hardly noticeable, followed by a swooping downhill for the next 6kms. All day we rode along tree-lined paved paths or beside burbling brooks, and later the Fulda River, into a pretty town. Although we climbed more than 500 meters, we all agreed that we didn't feel it as we have felt the other 500+ meter climbs we have done each day on this stage, probably because we weren't on goat tracks, rough gravel, pinging over tree roots, or wallowing along muddy paths. There is a marked difference in surface, sometimes on a minute-by-minute basis on the Radwegs. Not that we mind. Much.

Another goat track masquerading as Radweg 4.

Also, getting out of towns can be challenging indeed, but this time in Bad Hersfeld, we were lucky to come across Hans Otto Kurz, an octogenarian on an electric bike complete with oxygen tank strapped behind, who led us safely and calmly back onto Radweg 1 beside the Fulda. 

Hans' bike.

Maggie and I got talking to Gerhard who hunts wild boar and makes sausages and smoked meats from that animal as well as deer/stags. His dog, Paola, whom he purchased in England is a Parson's terrier and bred for hunting. He presented us with a slab of smoked stag meat - very dark in colour, as well as a sausage he had made. These were left on a table where we were drinking wine, so we never did get to taste them more's the pity.

Wishing Maureen happy birthday, joined by her sister Catherine and friend Claire who came down from Berlin for the occasion, was fun.

Saying goodbye to Maggie was sad as she is such a great riding companion: good-humoured, persistent and patient. We are so glad she re-joined the team, albeit for such a short time.

Our metrics - again!

19 August: Gottingen to Bad Karlshafen; 68kms 

20 August: Bad Karlshafen to Zierenberg; 52kms

21 August: Zierenberg to Fritzlar; 53kms

22 August: Fritzlar to Neukirchen; 66kms

23 August: Neukirchen to Rotenburg an dear Fulda; 78kms 

Total climbing on this stage: 2700 meters

Got to Gottingen

Bremen bratwurst seller, complete with oil backdrop.

Maggie and Des enjoying the country.

Sugar beet, used for fuel.

Lots of sugar beet.

The fish cafe beside a bike path.

Horses bound for Switzerland.

Too late for harvest, probably.

Wind and flour mill, Rysum.

A bit windy...at the North Sea.

It's a long way from the North Sea to the middle of Germany, but we had a slight advantage by beginning our Weser River ride at Bremen, rather than where it meets the sea at Bremerhaven. And we didn't make it to the end of the Weser either, instead choosing various goat tracks, hill climbs and roaring roads over the hills to Gottingen from Bodenweser. But more of that later. And perhaps even Angela will hear about some of the conditions, as well.

Maggie re-joined us at Verden, very good to see her wheel her machine off the railway platform and into my waiting arms. Needless to say we couldn't get the damn thing isn't the back of the car so she rode to our accommodation - another youth hostel,this one peopled by soccer boys - the blacks and the red, the blacks being slightly older. Graeme marveled at how disciplined and well-mannered they were. He was right. I can't see 50 or 60 Australian adolescents sitting down to meals so quietly and peacefully.

It has stopped raining, too. What a relief. Now we are riding under blue skies and applying copious amounts of sunscreen. It has been about 20-25 degrees - lovely riding weather.

Sally amd Maureen at the church cake stall.

Sundays are always tricky days to ride on account of the German habit of closing everything where one might purchase comestibles. And getting out of large cities, and Bremen was no exception, was also a bit tricky. Once out though we sailed along through farmland and villages, arriving just in time for the church lunch in Verden. Folks were serving bratwurst and potato salad and the ladies had made cakes to wash down with coffee. A two-piece band was playing and everyone was having a jolly old time. God came good for us that day.

Bodenweser.

Couldn't decide if these were goats or sheep.

Some of the most beautiful farming villages I have seen we encountered just after Verden. If you want to make a movie of pre-war German farming life this would be the setting. Maggie rode with us for her first ride of the tour if we're not counting the practice day prior to departing Nierstein, and she rode like a beauty. It is so good to have 5 riding and 1 driving again. More to argue about navigation, as Graeme might say, but more fun, too. We came across a caravan selling fish several ways for lunch, a mob of specially bred horses looking on. They were off to Switzerland as they are sturdy little horse built for climbing.

Bodenweder in the moring with the mist above the Weser.

En route to Gottingen.

The next day was slated as 90kms, but closer inspection of Google maps had it more like 140kms. To shorten the ride we cut across county before re-joining the Weser, making the day only 112kms. Some hills in the early part then long and flat after Hamelin. This was also the day of markets in towns, so we took several opportunities to stop and enjoy the wares (edible of course).

The endless Rocky Mountain climb.

Planning a route to Gottingen seemed easy and all went well for the first 10kms, until we took a Rocky Mountain track that seemed to climb to the heavens. When we'd all had enough, Sally got out her Google maps and we re-routed. Our most challenging day for hills to date, climbing 650 meters over the day, most of that before reaching Einbeck. We rocked into the youth hostel, also up another hill just to add insult to injury, just before 6pm and enjoyed a cold beer!

Riders are now about half way with anywhere between 1150 to 1250kms under their belts. Next we tackle the Fairytale Route.

Lunch courtesy of the gyros seller in the market place.

Metrics to date:

14 August: Bremen to Verden; 56kms

15 August: Verden to Landesbergen; 70kms

16 August: Landesbergen to Bodenweder; 112kms

17 August: Bodenweder to Gottingen; 86kms

Down with the Ems

After a rest day in Paderborn, we headed north along the Ems River. We were confident with our navigation having purchased a mighty fine Bikeline book to guide us to Emden, albeit a German language version.

A decommissioned nuclear power station.

The ride to Hovelhof where the river begins was easy and scenic. From there we wound through cornfields and farm communities following the river. Going north meant we had more likelihood of a head wind, and indeed that's exactly what we experienced. Graeme got a paceline happening at one stage, much appreciated by the team. When we needed a break from the meandering of the river, we chose an alternative route. That's the thing about this country that boasts over 70,000kms of bike trails, one is spoilt for choice.

Des ducks round the horse drawn carriage.

A lunchtime stop.

Jo, Sally and Des horsing round at morning tea.

Sunday in Germany is always a highlight as just about everything closes. And on Sunday the 7th when we rode, the weather was just perfect. Sunshine, little wind, and plenty to see as we pedaled happily along quiet roads. Our worst traffic obstacle was a horse-drawn cart driven by an older chap who seemed to be enjoying himself. We arrived in Harsewinkel - who wouldn't want to stay in a town called Harsewinkel - at Haus Bergman and enjoyed one of our best German meals for dinner, in the last of the summery breezes we have experienced.

Horses destined for the meat market.

Not quite the little white bulls.

From then on the landscape became flatter and more windswept, previewing the landscape where we spent our next rest day at Rysum. Few trees, no winding country roads arched over by summer green, fewer flower gardens and fruit trees. More Dutch than German, the fields are full of milking cows and rather huge sheep, many of which are grazing on the banks of canals. Most other animals have been in barns, as you can see from the picture of the young bulls we met along the way.

Des and Graeme are in heaven as a BBQ was purchased for little money at Westbevern. Grilled chicken and pork and bratwurst along with salad is like heaven. One can have too many schnitzels in this country. So far, no one has been game enough to take on the curry wurst, although Graeme says he will before too long.

A grim view of the Ems.

Little Red Riding Hood has now gone home, more's the pity.

And the rain. Who would have thought we'd be riding in rain and feeling the pinch at just 12 degrees? We're tough, though. Much tougher that when we are at home, where we don't even contemplate riding should there be a snifter of rain. The last riding day was long, the last 76kms of which was spent in the rain. I drove that day so missed out on the team bonding activity. The others were pretty glad to get to our cutesy Airbnb accommodation in this very cutesy village that has not been bombed or suffered wartime destruction. A huge flour and wind mill dominates the landscape, as well of course, the church, but this one is more Calvinistic than the usual Catholic churches further south.

North Sea sheep.

The wind and flour mill in Rysum.

Jo left us in Haren and we're hoping Maggie is going to join us in Bremen. We have made it to the North Sea but did not dip our toes into the rather still and putrid water, We were expecting high seas but were sorely disappointed.










So far so good. We have ridden somewhere between 850 - 1000kms so far.

Our stats:

August 7: Paderborn to Harsewinkel; 76kms

August 8: Harsewikel to Westbevern; 52kms

August 9: Westbevern to Telgte; 63.5kms

August 10: Telgte to Haren; 64.5kms

August 11: Haren to Rysum; 126kms