bringen die Donau zuweg. All right, this is German, and since you are reading the English blog, I will give some explanation. It translates roughly into Brigach and Breg create the Danube. It is one of these little rhymes they teach the younger kids at school in order to make them more easily remember a certain fact. They teach you this one in Austria anyway, and if you were educated anywhere else in Central or Southeast Europe maybe you heard a similar one in your language. Two little streams, running eastwards out of the Black Forest, namely the Brigach and the Breg converge into one river, and this point is considered the source of the Danube. At 2810 km this is Europe’s second longest river after the Volga. Along its journey to the Black Sea the river changes names 6 times (Donau, Dunaj, Duna, Dunav, Donava, Dunarea, and Danube), crossing (or marking) 9 borders and flows through 4 capital cities.

 

The closest human settlement to the spot where Brigach and Breg converge is called Donaueschingen. From there the mighty river starts its journey eastwards, on a map at least. In the real world this is only half the truth. About 30 km downstream as it enters the Jura a curious thing happens. With a gurgling sound the water disappears into the ground. In fact the bottom of the river bed itself falls entirely dry for about half of each year. The water runs under ground through a system of caves in the limestone and eventually surfaces again around 20 km to the south, this time being called the Radolfszeller Aach, a stream which drains into Lake Constance, hence the Rhine. Long, long time ago the Danube drained an area as far west as today’s Rhone. However, over time the Rhone and Rhine both having steeper gradients and more erosive power sliced up the upper Danube catchment piece by piece, redirecting the water into their catchments, and will continue to do so. Since the previous Ice Age an ever increasing amount of water out of the Black Forest is redirected into the catchment of the Rhine underneath the surface. There the water washes out some 70 000 tons of limestone each year making the holes on the bottom of the river bed bigger and bigger. Eventually the surface will collapse and the entire Black Forrest will be within the catchment area of the Rhine. And Brigach and Breg will no longer be the source of the Danube. This said the Danube expands at its other end, the Black Sea. At its ever expanding delta it deposes the sediments which its tributaries erode primarily out of the growing Alps. Consequently the whole river doesn’t become shorter, it actually relocates eastwards.

So far the first mountain range of significance that I encountered, the Black Forest, still separated me from the Danube. Freiburg was another nice and atmospheric place for a stopover. The goal for the day was Donaueschingen, only 70 km away, had my planned route worked out.

 

 

It turned out a bit longer due to a road closure and consequently a detour. Nevertheless it was a beautiful ride through fields, forests, and pretty towns. And it was steep, mind you. This certainly is a proper mountain range, not the way the Alps are, but still. Enough for a rookie. I shouted a few swearwords at the road during the steepest parts but I managed to get across pedalling without significant damage or delay. The views as well as the downhill stretch that followed more than compensated for the pain uphill.

 

Donaueschingen I found a bit of a nondescript town, nice enough, but certainly no comparison to all these old towns full of atmosphere I saw on either side of the the Rhine. The next morning I went down to the convergence of the Danube which is a surprisingly unremarkable spot. The only slightly monumental feature there is a set of flags for all the countries the mighty river runs through. The flag for Austria was missing though, much to my disappointment. A woman who had previously travelled to Ukraine showed me photos of the other end of the Danube. I think it could be great fun cycling down the river.

Exhaustion hit once more and my plan was to gently cycle just another 30 km down the Danube to a town named Tuttlingen and catch a train from there. Given the previous weeks lack of rain several stretches of the Danube were dry, elsewhere it rarely looked like more than a dirty and slow moving stretch of mud.

 

Some locals convinced me that the most beautiful stretch was only after Tuttlingen, and then, I could catch a train from Beuron as well. They were absolutely right, and into the Jura with its white rocks and the beginning autumn colours the landscape was truly amazing. Less enjoyable was dealing with my exhausted self. Even the tiniest uphill stretch felt like the 38^th kilometer in the marathon, and I was torn apart. Half of me was admiring the surroundings and the other half of me was swearing at those idiots who had told me to go further and to that idiot who had listened to them and kept going.

In Beuron I bought a ticket to Garmisch-Partenkirchen, sort of a shortcut to the Alps. I arrived there around ten in the evening after changing trains three times, including in Munich in the midst of the Oktoberfest craze. I still didn’t feel like cycling the day after and took a train to Brixlegg. On a day trip to Innsbruck I had learned that my professor from uni was about to retire and for this reason there was some sort of academic celebration planned for Thursday. And I was correctly assuming a few beers afterwards with lots of old colleagues. I stayed five days rather than the three planned and attended. It was great fun.

 

Friday brought snowfall down to 800 m. Without any proper cold weather clothes in my pannier bags I continued on the train to Salzburg where I still am typing these lines. Now only some really funky tan lines remind me of three weeks cycling across Europe in the bright sunshine, I have been very lucky so far. Now there is another sunny, albeit chilly, day on the road ahead. I plan to cross the Alps next.

After a hilly but short ride south-westwards I reached the state capital Düsseldorf. I stopped for some photos when a man started asking questions about my loaded bike and where I was going. After some conversation he wanted to buy me a beer what I gratefully accepted. This city is a top notch party place, and by far the latest nights in my life happened there, back in the days, some I remember, some I don’t. It seems that bars and clubs never close, and albeit on several occasions I did not leave before 7 in the morning I had never been asked to do so.

After the one beer, I had lunch and hit the road again. The goal for the day, Cologne, is only 40 km away. Still, the sun had set by the time I was there. I found a dorm bed at the Youth Hostel. My plan had been to stay for another day and get some shopping done. Thursday morning however, after some sightseeing I was more anxious to keep going.

 

 

Not far outside Cologne the Landscape became more hilly and the Rhine flows through a proper valley, a narrow one. Along steep rocks on both sides small towns are nestled, one more atmospheric than the other. Since I was anxious to stick to my plan and reach Koblenz that day I only stopped once for lunch. There would be a lot to explore however.

 

Koblenz, my second overnight stop on the Rhine was a bit disappointing. It is a beautiful town, mind you but for some sort of garden show they actually sealed the most interesting part off and charge 2 Euro entry fee. I didn’t pay so to see the remaining sights I had to go around this area back and forth, what produced quite some milage already.

The scenery didn’t change that day, it even became a bit more dramatic. The Loreley is a well known meander with a beautiful rock formation and one of Germany’s landmark sights. further up the vineyards dominated the slopes. The river is so busy this obvious bottleneck provided the only sight of the River without barges.

I stopped in Gustavsburg for two days. The town is of no interest whatsoever but very close to Mayence. This is a very beautiful city, with a big historic centre and beautiful architecture. Once more I arrived on market day, and this one was a particularly colourful one. The reason for the two nights was a friend in the area, who is about to move to Brazil. I won’t see him for a long time, and was really keen to meet.

 

 

Upstream of Ludwigshafen the valley becomes wider before it disappears completely into a plain. The landscape changes dramatically as the Rhine has loads of side arms in what seems to be an endless swamp around it. Albeit stopping is no good idea for the mosquitoes it is an extremely beautiful area to cycle through.

Overall, there are remarkably few bridges across the Rhine, but most towns are connected by little ferries sailing back and forth. Cycling here is a mainstream activity, and paths and signposts are excellent.

I stayed the night in Speyer, a world heritage site, mainly for its Cathedral.

 

Following the left side of the Rhine I crossed another dotted line on the map the next day, back into France. I had lunch in Lauterbourg, and a man sitting at the same table got really excited about my trip. I had inquired about good places to stay, as I would not make it into a big city on that same day. He sent me to Drusenheim, what was a bit farther away than I wanted but still doable. When I gave him my blog he said he would send me photos of pork roast, sauerkraut and beer further down the road. I will see.

The path clearly lost scenery as for a long way it lead along a dam which obstructed the view, and I could only assume that the Rhine was on the other side of it. I would lose interest in the views soon anyway. The sun was low already and no town was nearby when I realised that I had my first puncture. Given the limited time until darkness I decided against a roadside repair. I pumped up my tire every 15 minutes or so and raced on. I rolled into Drusenheim just before sunset.

 

To my delight there was a funfair and market that day and I planned to get changed and have a wander around and have some fun. Well, contrary to that I fell onto the bed and dozed off, and when I woke up and got out the funfair was closed and the market gone. Still, I had a very nice Flammkuchen, sort of a Rhenish pizza, outside

 

The path along the Rhine suddenly ended the next day, and together with two other confused cyclists I eventually got back on track. One of them I met a bit later on again, he was from Essen but his trip would finish in Strasbourg. This is where we went together and spent the afternoon in a beer garden. The unplanned overnight stop turned out to be difficult, as the city seemed full. A short term cancellation secured me a nice but little expensive bed right in the city centre. There is no question why those EU officials chose this place for the parliament, it’s really beautiful with a very impressive historic centre.

It took me some time to find back on the path, the signposting was very poor outside of Strasbourg. The route continues away from the Rhine but along the Rhone to Rhine canal. I got lost again at a place where the path was blocked. Frustrated by poor Alsace signposting I decided to cross the Rhine at the next possibility, maybe it was better on the other side.

The right side convinced with a path on top of the dam. Further more a northerly wind picked up and once more the tailwind blew me across, and I was racing southwards.

 

For a few minutes I considered changing plans and continue to Basel, but I stuck to my old plan. I lay in the sun for an hour in Breisach where I said good bye to the mighty river which I had followed for a week and turned east towards the Black Forest. Much to my delight the remaining 20 km to Freiburg were still flat.

There are more photos on www.flickr.com/georgisola

 

 

 

I had a very late lunch at the Innenhafen, a remodelled port on the Rhine and one of the more successful urban regeneration projects and a good night sleep in Duisburg. With the exhaustion of the past few days I was not up to much. I was expected for dinner with friends in Bochum so I had the whole day for this stretch of about 30 km. It would be a gentle ride, through known territory.

The Ruhrgebiet is Germany’s largest and Europe’s fourth largest (after Moscow, Greater London and Ile-de-France) urban agglomeration. There is no one centre as such, it consists of a number of big and moderately big cities bordering each other. I used to call the area home for three and a half years, Essen to be precise. Before the industrial revolution the area wasn’t much except for a few towns and farms. When mankind learned what to do with coal, this changed rapidly. Coal of very high quality is only just below the surface here. In some areas, you virtually dig a hole in your garden and grab it. Very quickly the area developed into a buzzing industrial centre, and with large numbers of immigrants flocking in big cities developed within just one generation. Canals were dug and railway lines built in support of the heavy industry and the coal mining. By the early twentieth century around 300 coal mines were active in the area. During the two world wars the Ruhrgebiet functioned as Germany’s central weapon factory. Consequently during the Second World War the area was levelled, wiping out about 20 % of Germany’s entire industry. The cities were rebuilt in a rush, apparently without anyone bothered to involve the architects. The ‘economic miracle’ of the 1950s and 1960s saw the area as a main beneficiary as it created a high demand of coal and steel. From the early 1970s onwards coal mining became less competitive and the area went through a number of structural crises, known as steel crises. The Ruhrgebiet today is still an extremely large albeit shrinking metropolitan area. There is little beauty to it on face value, but it is a unique place in many ways. Certainly industrial but surprisingly green, crowded but long past its persistent cliche of heavy pollution. Looking at its history and perspective it seems there has always been a future, even if the present has never been that great. Due to its large population and the density of industrial headquarters it remains a political and economic powerhouse. Football is a serious matter here. I has developed into a top notch cultural centre. People are open, almost cheeky, with a strong egalitarian perspective. Albeit grey, the place is far from grim in my memory.

 

I headed for Essen in the morning. Ignorant of where I was going, other than the general direction I turned onto Karl-Lehr-Strae. Here, on 24th July 2010 a stampede at the Love Parade, an electronic music and dance festival caused the death of 21 people and hundreds of injuries. A place between two viaducts is heavily decorated. Besides of mourning a high degree of anger is expressed here, anger at the authorities and organisers. I stopped for some time.

The centre of Essen is usually very quiet on Sundays. I stopped for a coffee and surfed the internet for a bit, I was still ready for some rest. The remainder of the way to Bochum took me on a nice path along the Ruhr river, through woods and fields.

 

When I started cycling around London sticking to the left side of the road was of course something I had to get used to. After three years, other than expected, I didn’t have to get used to go back to the right side. Rather I feel comfortable on the side of the road, regardless whether this is the left or the right one. This is rarely a problem, except when I am forced onto the other side by something other than traffic. If unaware, I caught myself just continuing on that side, until, well, usually other people make me aware of where I am cycling.

Seeing friends is always nice and there is a bunch of especially close ones in the area. And not least a few comfortable and free nights. I had arranged for some drinks at my favourite bar at the time when I lived there on Tuesday. Many friends and former work colleagues showed up and gave me a nice wave off. I had a great night.

The knock on effects of the night before caused a late departure, as I left on Wednesday, headed back to the Rhine.

There are more photos on www.flickr.com/georgisola