balaton bis belgrad

krisen.
1. und ganz frisch: die technikkrise.
mein armer freund.
nachdem er 2 abende mit textschreiben verbracht hat ist nun unser stick kaputt.
alles war drauf gespeichert. futschekato, allet wech.
die meisten kennen wahrscheinlich dieses gefuehl, es ist furchtbar.
ich hoffe er wird je wieder etwas schreiben. und das ist nicht die erste technikkrise, nein, bestimmt schon die dritte. wir versuchen unser bestes es mit allen problemen aufzunehmen und irgendwie lauert dann doch das naechste hindernis. wir fragen uns: warum immer wir. wie machen das die anderen.

da er jetzt ganz schlecht gelaunt in unser zimmer gegangen ist, versuche ich es weiter.

2. die krise mit der reise an sich ( aus meiner sicht) und wie das kam:
nachdem es in diesem jahr staendig regnet, die donau immer noch bestimmt einige meter hoeher ist als sonst, gibt es muecken in endloser zahl.
nachdem wir eines morgens (noch in ungarn)
1.mal wieder aus dem zelt krabbelten, muecken abwehrten und ohne kaffe fluechteten
2.ich dann vom schmalen graspfad abkam, unfreiwillig die grasboeschung runterfuhr und dann hinfiel (nichts ernstes, drei blaue flecke mehr)
3.tom dann unbedingt den kuerzesten weg ins dorf nehmen wollte, was in einer verheerenden schlammschlacht endete,
hatte ich sehr schlechte laune.
die strecke schien ich auch schon zu kennen: links und rechts von der stark befahrenen strasse ueberflutete mais-, sellerie-, kornfelder.
die laune nicht besser und ich fragte mich was das eigentlich alles soll.
tom war auch nicht so gut drauf, und da war sie dann, die krise.

doch alles wurde besser, wir fuhren und fahren weiter.

von der schoenen braunen Donau an den schoenen braunen Balaton

also IRON CURTAIN TRAIL.
wir finden das entsprechende radbuch in wien.
erst mal richtung bratislava, dann richtung neusiedler see. dort zelten wir und gluecklicher weise ueberleben wir die mueckenattacken. wir shen einen fliegenden hirschkafer, beeindruckend. am nachsten tag "ueberfahren" wir wieder eine grenze, es geht nach ungarn. in den provinzen sieht es noch aus wie damals, ich fuehle mich in die ddr zeit zurueckversetzt. endlich kenne ich wieder die autos. trabi, wartburg, dacia, skoda. naja, es gibt auch ganz viele neue autos.
wir folgen jetzt dem streckenverlauf IRON CURTAIN TRAIL. mit entsetzen stellen wir fest, dass der fast ausschliesslich strassen folgt. hatten wir uns naturlich denken koennen. haben aber nicht nachgedacht. und wahrscheinlich ist es jetzt sowieso vorbei mit radwegen. schade, schoen war's. 3400 km auf radwegen. wir fahren richtung balaton und kommen in den 3 minuten sonnenschein an, die der tag zu bieten hat.
ich bin beeindruckt von den vielen grossen und so unterschiedlichen baumen am rand vom see. dekorativ biegen sie sich im wind, der gleich wieder regen bringt. aber vorher gibts noch schweinshaxe und wildragout. radleressen. herrlich.
unseren pausentag verbringen wir biertrinkend und fussballschauend in der bar, denn.... es regnet. doch gerade erfahre ich, ab mirgen wird's besser.
solange halten wir uns noch ueber wasser.



We are holed up in a bar on Lake Balaton watching the word cup Football. After a few days cycling in the rain we have taken a break. Strange way to celebrate the solstice but a force 7 gale is unusual weather for the time of year.
I wanted to come to Balaton after finding a picture book from the DDR time on Anjas Parents bookshelf. They visited here before Anja was born and told stories of meeting tourists from the west who it was forbidden to talk to.
The photobook was mostly in black and white with a few brownish 'colour' pictures showing sailing and rowing boats on a serene lake with a mountainous backdrop and healthy looking youths in baggy short trousers. Was the world browner in the seventies, was photo technology different or have the pictures gone this way over time. I imagine a little of all three.
This SW corner of the lake is geared up for tourism and rightly so but sadly no-one is here. Apparently ten years ago alot of Germans came, as they did before the 'wende' when the walls came down but somehow not so many come as they did. I guess they are all in Thailand or somewhere else more exotic. I am reminded of a northern English resort in bad weather in the early season.
From what we have seen sofar Hungary is a mixture of farmland forrest and modest mountains, pretty enough though to me the single storey houses with windows wider than they are high are not so appealing and speak of raw funktionality.
We have sheltered from the rain in a couple of arboretums and camped in one on the edge of a village. A night by a rapeseed field was a great camping spot until we were woken by a fox stealing our rubbish from on one of the bikes outside te tent. He was so bold he would not run away and even stood up with his paws on the flysheet and stared Anja in the eye from 3 ft away. When one of us mentioned rabies what was fun and interesting took on a more sinister part in our midnight minds and though busting for a pee after a few cans of beer we went trepidly outside together. I gathered the rubish in the morning but one beercan remained AWOL. The others were crushed.
We heard of the Iron curtain cycle path somewhere on the way and decided to take a break from the Danube. We bought the map, our first yet, and joined it at the Neuseedlersee. The lake was great and we swam ther but thecyclepath turned out to be all on roads and so tortuous that we were riding as much west as we were east. We decided to head for Balaton instead and from here we will go south to the Drau river which flows into the Danube once more.

I have just been shown the weather forcast which is slowly getteng better throughout the week. Thank god no-one has told us it will be sunny on Thursday, somehow we have had this for two months, and are fed up with waiting for a Thursday that never comes.

The bikes are doing ok, to date 4 punctures and two broken spokes. Our tyres are also doing well so I have not bought new ones as I planned; a decision I will probably regret at some point when we have to by substandard ones but procrastination is a habit hard to break. I will try to change sometime soon.

Wien was not the cultural experience it should have been. Everything Anja wanted to see was closed or started in a few days but we did have a great night in Klosterneuburg where we camped on the edge of Wien. We were in a cafe (sheltering from the rain) when a band from the music school came in and played Gypsy Jazz, Django Rheinhard mainly, Real good.

I wanted to go dingy sailing on Balaton and have eyed up some baggy shorts in a shop nearby but I don't think it is going to happen this time round. Maybe I will get the chance on the Black sea.

Wien

We are now in Klosterneuburg just outside of Vienna or Wien as the locals call it. Why we have to change the names I don't know,I thought they were two different cities till recently.

I am not a good tourist it has to be said and the merrygoround of attractions and cultural experiences in this capital city left me cold. It is fantastic I am sure but for me as a day tripper it had none of the appeal of say Rome or Paris.
We did spend a nice evening though with Heike, a friend of Anjas, in some crazy cooking club bar where everyone seemed to be cooking together, I was confused as to what was going on but thought it was great.

It is raining hard and we are using the time to sort out boring financial stuff etc before we head out of the Eurozone and East into Hungary.

The donau we will leave for a bit but it has been great. we have been forced by floods into campsites alot but there we have met alot of other travellers, mostly cyclists but also two inspiring young brothers walking from Utrecht to Jarusalem.
They like us found more interest in the small details of the planet rather than the grandiose Capitals. We discussed the proliferation of dead moles, due to high groundwater we decided, and the kinds of insects we had seen. They found it not at all odd that Anja made a dozen 'kieferpäuse' or 'beetle stops' everyday. Good lads.

The floods have receeded but in places were 4m over the banks. This we realised was small and normal compared to historic levels painted on some of the buildings. We spend alot of time trying to calculate the litres per second flowing past and all results are staggering.

The ride the last weeks has been very beautifull, through wooded hills with castles perched atop. Hopefully the rain will stop tomottow and we can carry on East.

Österreich- Sturm, Hitze und jetzt Regen wie aus Gießkannen

Nun verbringen wir schon den 2. Tag in Wien.
Gestern war Museumstag (leider ohne Museum von innen, entweder die interressanten Austellungen hatten noch nicht begonnen, oder das Museum hatte geschlossen, unglaublich, es war wie verhext) und heute ist unfreiwilliger Pausentag.
Es gießt wie aus Kannen und wenn das so weitergeht, ist die Donau bald wieder übervoll.
Wir haben eigentlich genug von überfluteten Wegen, nassen Füßen, verschlammten Rädern und Stürzen auf rutschigen Wegen (letzteres gilt nur für mich, irgendwie bin ich kein wirklich guter Radfahrer)
Heute stehen wir aber sicher ein bißchen erhöht auf dem Campingplatz in Klosterneuburg.
Ganz kurzfristig haben wir gestern einen ganz schönen Abend mit Heike, einer ehemaligen Studienkollegin verbracht. Sehr leckeres Essen auf dem Naschmarkt, dann in den "Kochclub", eine Weinchen trinken und Fußball schauen mit anderen Freunden von Freundin Heike.
Morgen gehts dann weiter, aber wahrscheinlich verlassen wir den "Supercyclinghighway" ans der Donau und radeln Richtung Süden, den Eurovelo 9, um dann bis ans schwarze Meer dem IRON CURTAIN TRAIL zu folgen.
Dieser läuft von Nord nach Süd bis ans Schwarze Meer immer an der ehemaligen Grenze zwischen Ost und West.
Wir entscheiden spontan.
Österreicht hat uns bis jetzt gut gefallen, besonders die Gegend WACHAU ist landschaftlich wunderschön. Da ist selbst das Fahrradfahren ein bißchen zu schnell für mich.
Aber uns sitzt der kommende Winter ein bißchen im Nacken, so verweilen wir nicht soo lange an den einzelnen Orten.
Wettertechnisch hatten wir unseren bis jetzt heftigsten Gewittersturm am Badesee Mitterkirchen, gut, daß das Zelt schon aufgebaut war und auch blieb. Also Sturmtest bestanden.
Ja und die zweitägige Hitze"welle" scheint auch schlagartig seit gesten abend zu Ende zu sein, wir sind bereits nachts im Regen (ohne Regensachen) auf unseren 15 km abseits liegenden Zeltplatz aus Wien zurückgeradelt.

Wie hoffen auf Sonne :)

bodensee to bratislava

So, we are now in Austria. We had to hurry a bit through Germany because of some technicality with Anjas health insurance. We would like to thank all the people for all the hospitality we recieved. Richard and Heika; sorry we didn't see more of you on this flying visit, Peter and Kirstin; it was a great few days with you in Switzerland and Matze and Gitta thanks for Everything
It was a stange feeling being on the road for so long and then passing through where we used to live and seeing so many friends. A great evening was spent in the 'Herzog Ulrik' with all Anjas former work colleages.
We also stayed a night with the Parents of a friend in Vohburg which was great after a wet couple of days.

The Danube begins officially in Donauechingen and flows 2844 or so kms to the Black sea. We intend to cycle all the way and sofar the path has been great. Beginning with deep limestone gorges and ognion domed Klosters as a young river it soon gathers strenght with every added tributary and by Ulm knows it is a powerfull and important river.
There was a fair bit of rain and alot of flooding. The water was thick with silt and tugging at the bridge foundations. Often we had to detour or wade through the flooded track.

In Donauworth the only Roman road over the Alps heads south to Lake Garda and from here on the route is called the Baroque way as all the towns have churches or Klosters, (monasterys I think) in this style. Simple lines on the outside and highly adorned within.

The river has chopped its way through thickly forrested hills near Kelheim shortly before Regensburg which I think is my favourite city yet. The buildings are uncomplicatedly solid and painted in earthy but colourful shades. The Cathederal though not so big as Ulm(the tallest in the world, 169m) is to me more appealing.

The Bayerischer Wald rises high to the north of the Danube before Passau and Austria.

The weather was sometimes hot and sometimes wet but it seems we have left the cold behind at last and we are thinking of sending home warm clothing and lightening our somehow ever increasing load. It is obvious that we are going along way and have met so many people because of this. One old cyclist was very encourageing ...'do it do it do it' was his advice 'you won't be able to when your dead'. He had a nice stripey shirt.

The people speak a particular dialect in Bayern and Austria and sometimes Anja has a problem understanding which is good training for the future when we won't speak the languages.

The click on my bike has developed into a worn out bottom bracket bearing which I will change very soon. 3 punctures so far, not to bad for 2600 or so kms.

We are on the worlds cycling superhighway and at weekends there are thousands of people out on bikes, day trippers to round the worlders, local pub cycling outings, children and pensioners. I like it and find it a shame we hurried through Germany.

mal wieder abschied

nach ein paar wunderbaren tagen am bodensee mit kerstin, peter und greta,
nehmen wir (ausnahmsweise) den zug nach tübingen und verbringen super abende und ganze tage mit freunden.
ach ist das schön. wenn man androht, man wird für eine lange zeit nicht da sein, trifft man sich plötzlich mit vielen leuten, die sich alle zeit nehmen für einen. das ist toll.
morgen geht es dann weiter richtung beuron. und dann die donau entlang richtung osten. unser erster großer berg. der albaufstieg. ;-)

Still in Ermatingen on the Bodensee

Anja has gone out for a walk with her friend Kirsten and her daughter Greta. Husband Peter is out somewhere, probably playing with his new aeroplane.
We are recieving some fine hospitality here and there could not be a nicer place to take a break.
I have just finished tinkering with the bikes. Mine has an annoying click coming I think from the bottom bracket and Anjas gears are a bit rough, I will try a new cable sheath on Friday as I have to go a bit North to Tübingen and know a good cycle shop there. I will pick up a few more spare parts aswell.

We have so far had two punctures, well one really as the second was caused 10 minuits after the first because I failed to find the offending glass shard hidden in Anjas tire. I have also had a spoke break in the back wheel but that is about it.

I am slowly figuring out how this blog works but until Anja decides to fall in another river or something exciting I don't really know what to write though I have the time right now and internet access.

I could I suppose tell you about another chap we met on a path round back of the docks in Plymouth; Colin, a travelling man with a radio and a lively interest in politics and economics.
We were going in different directions but must have talked for half an hour or so on various topics but one I remember was the differences between life with few posessions and one with lots of stuff.
The thing I liked most about Colin was his ability to laugh at his own misfortunes and mistakes. He could pour humerous scorn on his former self as if on someone of only vague aquaintance. The time he was beaten up in Edinburgh was his own fault for being too drunk and falling asleep in the wrong place.

The footpaths of Britain are Colins highways. He has never owned a car and certainly wouldn't want one now,
'I see them all at the traffic lights, the drivers I mean, you can see them up close and well,' he chuckled, 'they don't look very happy'.

Sometimes it seems people with few posessions find it strange that alot of poeple rush aroung trying to obtain so many. On our journey this theme has cropped up often in conversation with all sorts of people. Comments on our baggage range from; 'Jeez ya godaloda kit' to ' how the hell do you live with so few comforts. I would hate that'.
I liked the attitude of many French folks to our stuff which was to give an appreciative nod when they had established our kitchen department was well enough equipped. The rest was unimportant.

Though not understanding why they were, Colin was glad that so many people are so busy 'because' he said, 'if they all didn't work and just wandered about like you and me the whole country would fall apart'. Fair point. Keep going everyone. Please.

We talked about alot of footpaths, I remember, and it seemed our man had walked all over Britain and Ireland and had been to Australia where the English winge about everything. I promised I would not.
'I know Plymouth' he said.
'I got stuck here for a couple of years in the pubs, going from one to another. Passing them all now would be a trip down memory lane if I hadn't forgotten so much . You couldn't really call that walking though, pub to pub, more stumbling really but I stopped all that drinking years ago.'

I had walked down this path in Plymouth before, twenty two years before with a plastic sack to sleep in. No ultralight tent or four season down sleeping bag safely stowed in a 100% waterproof bag. No Whisperlite cooker or MP3 player, Goretex raincoat, softshell Jacket or Thermarest mat. Jeez we godaloda kit.

I did have a plastic cup then though. The very same one I have with me now. I never did like it that much, it is a boring grey colour and my tea gets cold quick. Maybe I should get meeself one of them newfangled insulated double walled brushed stainless steel ones with a double skinned plastic lid with a slit to drink out of that keeps your tea hotter for longer.

Maybe not.

Bodensee

Between Montbeliard and Mulhouse on the Rhone-Rhein canal we had a whole day of rain, not too heavy but wet all the same. at five oclock I chose to keep on going past a decent camping spot because I didn't fancy a long evening in the damp.

Twenty km later no other spot presented itself until we saw an open hut with a couple of tables in and a campervan behind. Great, we could cook in the dry and there was even a patch of grass for the tent.

While we were still discussing our good fortune a leather hatted fellow rode in, sat down, took from his only bag a gas cooker, a tin of ravioli, two chocolate mooses and a packet of biscuits and said not a word nor looked in our direction.

Ah so! thought I, a real gentleman of the road, who intends also to shelter the night here and who seemed familiar with the establishment.

Reluctant to move on at this point in the evening I sidled over ant tried to open conversation.

By short bisyllabic answers I managed to draw out that yes he was going to lay his head here and cook his evening meal though with the locals being so tight and all, they had only parted with a few Euro's this day and his fare was pretty meagre, and that he had come from Allemagne that morning.

When asked if he would rather speak German a smile appeared in the mans eyes and he said this would be grand as his French was not so good. We had found our second piece of common ground.

I said we were staying here too, which was obvious, and was reccomended the patch of grass if we had a tent. He was going to sleep on the floor.

We invited Bruno to eat with us. Though what we had was not special we had at least enough and the ravioli might be needed in the future, depending.

With the invitation cautiously accepted the man was like a rusty tap turned on for the first time in a while. First a spattering of murky consonants, then a few coughed words reluctantly strung together, a clearish sentence and then a fluent stream of conversation rich in minerals of simple wisdom.

Fourty eight years on the road was our new friend, and though the timeline is, through his talking style and our inability to understand everything, a little hazy, most of this was spent on a bicycle. From Spain to Holland, Italy to Poland had our man travelled and he knew the best spots to sleep all through Western Europe.

I thought the Eurovelo 6, the cycleroute we are trying to follow from the Atlantic to the Black sea would be full of well equiped money in the bank types like us on holiday. The route however follows often long established paths used for years by foot and bike tramps to travel the continent without being pushed into the ditch by the ever increasing car traffic.

We had also met Frank in Dole. Three years underway with his cheap bike and tent who had just come up the Rhone from the south of France to try and earn some money in Germany before continuing on to Asia. Rainer also, 30 years underway, sadly we didn't get to hear many of his tales as we had to push on that day.

Bruno had stomach ulsers and found it hard to digest my spaghetti dinner. He took it with him the next day as he said it was a pity for food to go to waste though I think he was only beeing polite. The chocolate spread sandwich I offered for breakfast went down better, 'Anything with chocolate in is good!' said he with a smile. The banana and greek yoghurt went away in his pack.

'Do you find the cuckoos get on your nerves sometimes' we were asked.

You know, sometimes they do when sleeping out.

' I sometimes think I am like a cuckoo's child, I don't really know where I came from, my parents or anything and never seemed to fit in.'

At some point there was a woman and a tracktor and trailor and begging diesel. There was eating the lemons straight off the trees in Spain, 'better than oranges'. There was a night with new met friends and a fire and chickens and beer. Good times.

We talked alot about the price of food in Germany and France. Germany we agreed was cheaper but the winters were damn cold. We shared our bottle of wine (1.56 Euro, a litle bottle from ED supermarche. Red) and when Bruno produced a mouthorgan we sang the first verse of a number of songs and a good evening was had. I professed a longing to learn the harmonica as it would be good to learn on our trip and not too heavy.

'If you really want to learn it you can have one of mine' said Bruno

'I have two, a C and a G. I prefer the C so you can have the G. I only have one mouth so I don't need them both'.

Laughing eyes.

I said maybe when we meet again we could play a tune together.

'we won't meet again in this life my friend'

Something knowing in the eyes I cannot read. Perhaps alot of past and acceptance of not much future.

'This is my last trip, I'm headin' for the Cote d'Azur and staying there in the warm, maybe the Camargue, alot of Gypsies there, good people, I speak there language'.

We talk about Bruno alot Anja and I and laugh as we think of him happy in the south somewhere sucking lemons and rubbing margerine into his hat.