June 25 - Arc de Triomphe

How do you spell relief? We spell it: FLIXBUS. After an exhaustive online search we discovered a European bus company that allows passengers to travel with bicycles. Despite horrific online reviews about luggage being misplaced, bikes being stolen, rude bus drivers and broken toilets, we decided to roll the dice and book passage from Innsbruck to Paris via Munich. Frankly, we were desperate and the bus appeared to be our one and only viable option. Thrilled to have solved our logistical issues, we arrived at the bus station, which was actually a signpost outside a gas station, ready to complete our journey. 

On a positive note, we must say Kudos to Flixbus. Our experience was excellent. Drivers were courteous, bikes were handled with care, bathrooms worked (although I was too chicken to use one) and we arrived 16 hours later in Paris exactly as scheduled.

Only one hurdle remained; cycling back out of Paris to our airport hotel where our adventure began five weeks ago. Like all large metropolitan areas, Paris is facing challenges. Slow travel by bicycle forces you to see and experience it all, whether you are prepared to or not. We witnessed the beauty and magic of the City of Lights and we also saw her warts. Heartbreaking images of migrant camps, where many families are living out of tents, in deplorable conditions. I suppose this is the benefit of travel, opening your eyes and heart to the situation of others. Rob and I have both been touched by our cycle touring experience, and feel like we have changed. We hope to return home, better for our time on the road, committed to doing our small part to make a difference. 

Thank you for sharing our ride with us. We appreciate all of the messages and words of encouragement.

Giggle of the day

Excited to be on the final leg home, we deposited ourselves, with big bike boxes in hand at the airport shuttle bus stop just as the sun was rising. After our circuitous, and often challenging journey back to Paris, there was not even a remote chance that we would over sleep  and miss our bus to Charles de Gaulle airport. Nervously, we watched as other shuttle bus passengers arrived at the waiting area. We knew from past experience that the bus, which in actuality was a beat up old passenger van, only held seven and our bike boxes would require the full back row of seats. Departure time arrived and our cranky driver gestured at us to load the bikes. Obediently we did as we were told. After several minutes he came around to inspect our work. It was at that moment he lost his mind. “Pas possible, pas possible!”, he exclaimed. We didn’t need Google translate to understand him. In my best, indignant voice I countered, “c’est possible!, and with that Rob and I hopped in the van basically daring him to evict us. Truthfully, I think he was too lazy to move the bike boxes out of the cargo hold himself, and so with an angry glare, he loaded the remaining passengers, called for another van to take the stragglers and we were off. Polite Canadians can only be pushed so far!   

Route Update

Bikes checked. Bags checked. Homeward bound. Until next time.

June 17 - It’s not over, until it’s over!

Leaving Budapest, complete with bicycles, camping gear and loaded panniers has been no easy task. In fact, our journey back to Paris in time for our return flights home is proving to be the most challenging aspect of our trip. Like cowboys from the wild, west of yesteryear we are extremely attached to our trusted steeds. Although, we are the first to admit that it makes no financial sense to bring home our aged, broken down rides, we simply aren’t ready to leave without them...and so we initiated operation OPUS. (Our bikes are Opus bikes, a terrific cycling company based out of Montreal, Canada)

Our first attempt to leave Budapest was a no go. Unfortunately, there were no trains leaving on our preferred day that could accommodate bikes (or so we think we were told...again our Hungarian language skills are lacking.) Not really a hardship, we stayed an extra day in Budapest, savouring the city and waiting for the first train out. On our scheduled day of departure, we survived a frenetic 5am ride to the train station and successfully boarded the train scheduled for an early afternoon arrival in Vienna.

According to Operation Opus, we would arrive safely in Vienna, well rested and converse with a friendly, efficient Austrian train agent, who we were confident would prove a bit more helpful than their Hungarian counterpart. We sat back, relaxed and rode the rails until the announcement of doom. Our train came to a hard stop at an obscure train station somewhere in Hungary. A very lengthy announcement in Hungarian came over the intercom system which left our fellow passengers looking horror stricken. We waited with baited breath hoping against all hope for an English translation. Crackling to life, the loudspeaker came on, and to quote, “Ladies and Gentleman, our locomotive engine has a big problem.” Period. End of statement. No further instructions. A succinct translation.

Like sheep to the slaughter we followed the crowd out on to the platform. What else were we to do? Western style passenger agents were no where to be seen, when a second train pulled in and our fellow passengers began to sprint for the doors. As you can imagine, our version of sprinting, with fully loaded bikes is a sight to behold, but sprint we did. Like the rest of the sheep we rammed ourselves onto the second train, unsure of where it might be going, but hopeful it would be closer to Paris than our current location.

We rolled along, passing station after station until the train came to another complete stop and the sheep once again unloaded. Bewildered and confused we began to follow, and then the magic happened. A young German couple took us under their wing and explained where we were, and more importantly what we needed to do to get to Austria.

We would like to say that upon our arrival in Vienna operation Opus went smoothly, but unfortunately that just wasn’t the case. As planned, we found a delightful ticket agent, who was happy to converse in English and extremely helpful. We simply asked to go somewhere, anywhere closer to Paris on a train that accepted bikes. She got to work, and handed us an itinerary to Innsbruck that required several connections, the personification of a milk run. Having never been to Innsbruck, we excitedly accepted her proposed route.

Confident we could pull it off, we thanked her profusely. As she bid us farewell, she dropped the clincher on us. “Remember, you need to go to a different station in Vienna, it’s only 30 minutes away, so you will have 5 minutes to spare. It should be no problem for you if you hurry and follow the bike route.” Perfect, if you had a car or taxi. Perfect if you knew the city. Perfect, if you had a GPS. Needless to say, we missed our train.

From there the real excitement began and between the numerous changes we managed to loose and find our train tickets, board a wrong train, break another set of Rob’s glasses and make a few friends.

The day ended 15 hours later in a beautiful mountain campsite on the outskirts of Innsbruck. Fumbling in the dark we managed to set up our tent seconds before the rain hit. We slept like babies.

Phase 2 of Operation Opus coming soon!

Route Update

We spent a wonderful day in Innsbruck hiking Mount Hafelekar. Faced with another upcoming bank holiday, we have been unable to secure rail tickets, or flights to Paris. On the bright side, Innsbruck is home to 11 ski resorts, snow season is just around the corner and we have noticed ski instructor hiring signs. Things could be worse.

Giggle 

During one of our frenetic train transfers we found ourselves in a foot race with two German cyclists. Changing platforms can be tricky, and with loaded bicycles an elevator can be a saving grace...or so we all thought. Like a scene from the Amazing Race four sweaty cyclists with four fully loaded touring bicycles arrived at the elevator at exactly the same time. The ladies begged to go first saying they would miss their connection if we stalled them. In a moment of weakness, our Canadian came out, and we let them go first. I teased them that if we missed our train they would owe us a drink. In a twist of fate, we ended up on the same train bound for Salzburg. They were true to their word and invited us to join them for a dinner and a drink. Cheers!

June 13 - Budapest or Bust

Determined to beat both the heat and the winds, we decided to get an early start. By 5 am we were up, packed and spinning our wheels. Ridiculous, I know, but well worth the effort. Faced with another long, long stretch of gravel travel we pushed on, trying to stay positive, sights firmly set on Budapest.

Throughout the day we leap frogged by a lovely couple from Australia. They had purchased a self guided 5 star biking package from Bratislava to Budapest. As part of their package, their luggage was transported between hotels and they were provided with a well equipped bike and up to date cue sheet for route finding. To say they were impressed by the tour company definition of 5 Star would be an understatement. Slogging on gravel track is tough, simply not quite the same as the paved and well maintained trails in France and Germany. Although, they were clearly upset and frustrated by the condition of the paths and roads, we shared a few laughs along the way, and by late in the day we were fast friends....and that’s when the magic happened. During a chat at a rest stop (the only shady spot we had been able to find all day) they told us about a ferry they were booked on for the last few kilometres in to Budapest. They invited us to join them, encouraging us to arrive in Budapest in style....on a cruise ship. Actually, not quite a cruise shop, more like a rust bucket, but nonetheless after a long day of thirty five degree temperatures, head winds and gravel it was tempting. Throwing caution to the wind, we accepted their kind offer and joined them on the MS Esztergom, a river boat built in the Soviet Union in 1969. After a frantic effort navigating gangplanks and narrow passageways with our loaded bikes, we settled in to a loud, diesel fuelled sailing on the Danube. To our great delight, we anchored in Budapest as the sun was setting. Spectacular!

There we were on the banks of the Danube, in the heart of Budapest. The city was electric! Absolutely breathtaking. Spellbound, we simply stood on the dock, holding hands taking it all in and quietly celebrating our journey. We had travelled by bicycle over 2900 kilometres, from Paris to Budapest, crossing 6 countries and now we found ourselves in downtown Budapest without a place to stay and it was getting dark. What could possibly go wrong?

We fired up trusty Google and began to search for a BnB close to us. Fortunately, luck showered upon us once again, and we discovered a reasonably priced apartment one block from the parliament buildings, with hosts who entertained our last minute reservation request. 

Over one hundred years old, our apartment is beyond unique. Words will not do it justice. Open courtyard, 14 foot ceilings, antique furniture and an old school cage elevator. Our hosts are kind and gracious, showering us with treats including beer and fresh cherries. Who could ask for anything more? Thank you Budapest.

Giggle

Arriving in Budapest without Rob going to jail has been a huge relief. We have had 3 encounters with local Policia, all quite stressful when you don’t understand the language. Offences as follows:

1. Taking photos of Policia in uniform in Germany. Don't do it.
2. Trespassing on a construction sight...even though it was the clearly marked bike route in Slovakia. Don't do it.
3. Unwittingly attempting to pass a police barricade in Hungary. Security is tight as the Prime Ministers of the Czech republic,  Hungary,  Poland and Slovakia are in town discussing  the future of Europe.We were not invited to attend the meetings.

Yet, despite it all, we have managed to nod, smile and convey our apologies, with no criminal record to date.  (Or non that we are aware of, as we were warned by one security guard in Slovakia that the Policia have our pictures)

June 12 - The Sounds of Silence

Please forgive us if we have led you to believe that all days on a cycle tour are sunshine and lollipops. Truth be told most days are cyclical in nature, a myriad of ups and downs directly related to weather, terrain, gear and food. However, every once in a while you encounter a day that is brutal, torturous even. Today was one of those days.

We started on a high, having experienced the best of Vienna and Bratislava. After a leisurely morning, we were excited to hit the trail once again, thrilled to be riding in another new country, Slovakia. Successfully connecting to Eurovelo 6, everything looked on track until we made that fateful turn east. It was then the headwinds hit us with a vengeance. Under the searing thirty degree sun, we found ourselves pushing forward on a flat, unforgiving dyke trail directly into the wind. Soul sucking wind. The kind of wind that forces you to peddle even when attempting to cruise downhill!

After 30 some years of marriage, we have learned that sometimes it is better to simply suffer in silence. After all, whining and complaining about the heat and the wind does little to change the situation and it has been said that silence is golden. For hours we rode on in complete silence, each of us fighting our own mental battle against the elements. Progress was painfully slow, yet we both kept peddling. What else could we do? By 4 pm we had only travelled 40 hard earned kilometres. Budapest felt unachievable. At that exact moment, Lady Luck smiled down upon us and served up a charming, little pizza place in a town called Sap. It was an extremely easy decision to take a break, refuel and hope for the winds to die down. Reenergized after a pizza feast we returned to the trail confident if we travelled until dark we could makeup a few kilometres. Unfortunately, in a cruel twist of fate, the cycle path changed to a deep gravel pathway. Our pace once again slowed considerably, and to make matters worse, it was now dusk and the mosquitos were swarming. Frustrated, tired and cranky we literally stumbled upon a bar with what we thought was a camping sign. (Our Slovak is worse than our German if you can believe that!) Feeling completely done, we beelined to the bar and sought out the owner. We suspect he sensed our frustration, as he led us to the back of his property, showed us a grassy area and invited us to pitch our tent. Unbelievably, he refused to accept payment for the makeshift campsite. Once again, when we have felt at our lowest, the simplest gesture of kindness has touched us deeply. It was the truest form of 5 star accommodation.

Route Update

Thanks to the kindness and generosity of a complete stranger, our tent is pitched behind the bar in the town of Klizska Nema . Tomorrow, we will continue the quest for Budapest....unless the mosquitos eat us alive tonight!

Giggle

Unbeknownst to us there is a nude beach on the outskirts of Vienna  that stretches for miles and our route took us directly through it. Naturally, being Canadian and quite reserved, we really didn’t know what to do or where to look so we simply kept peddling striving to face forward at all times. Nothing to see here! Suddenly, a quite hefty naked man, frantically waving both his arms (and other stuff) jumped on the trail in front of me. Not quite sure if I was being warned or accosted I kept on peddling all the while yelling at Rob suggesting he should talk to the guy. Turns out, the overly friendly, naked man was simply trying to tell us that we were going in the wrong direction and the path was a dead end. Appreciative, we turned around, but I must say I have not been able to order Bratwurst again.

June 11 - Century Ride

Never underestimate the power of a good nap. I don’t mean the executive level ten minute rejuvenation sleep. Rather, I mean the “fat, lazy house cat curl up in the sun front window” kind of nap. What a sight we were! 

Feeling overwhelmed by the crowded campsite in Krem, we were up and early in the morning. By lunch we had already cycled over 70 kilometres and were still feeling strong. As the afternoon sun blazed and the temperatures continued to rise, we began to feel quite sleepy. It was a strange sensation, we weren’t physically tired from riding - just sleepy. I thought I might actually nod off on the saddle. Feeing fatigued, we did what any self-respecting touring cyclist would do. With a renewed sense of purpose, we rode on to the next town, hunted down the nearest park bench, hopped off our bikes and napped. It was delicious!!!! Frankly, I am not sure how long we slept, but we awoke super charged. Long story short, we cycled a CENTURY that day. Thanks to the power of a good nap, we travelled over 100 miles in a single day. Perhaps napping should be part of our daily schedule? 

Route Update

Vienna is grand. That’s grand with a capital G! Having been riding now for 19 days and travelling over 2400 kilometres we decided to take a rest day and soak up the sights and sounds of Vienna. What an incredible city. Austria’s capital is home to an array of masterfully crafted historic buildings, the legacy of the powerful Habsburg monarchy. Fascinated, we spent the majority of our time exploring the inner city captivated by the museums, palaces, imperial apartments and famed riding school. Extremely popular with tourists, the city was buzzing. There is an energy to Vienna that simply can not be described.

Giggle

Being true Canadians, we never leave home without our toques and long johns. Packing the ten essentials for outdoor adventure has been ingrained in us. You just don’t know how cold it might get when the sun goes down over the mountain, or when the rain hits. Needless to say, we have been experiencing temperatures in the high twenties to low thirties for most of our holiday - not exactly toque weather. Yesterday, as we strolled around Vienna, I cracked and found myself in one of the tourist gift shops searching for a sun hat. If I say so myself I think I selected the perfect ensemble for a tour of the rose gardens - Vienna fashionista that I am.

June 7 - Auf Wiedersehen

Over 2,000 kilometres cycling along Eurovelo routes, and today we arrived in Austria. Thrilling to say the least. Before we got caught up in the excitement of visiting a new country, we took a few moments roadside to sit in the shade and reflect upon our time in Germany.  We have travelled more than a few miles along bustling city streets and quiet country roads, and watched the Danube River grow in size and strength. We have travelled back in time to visit Gothic Churches, Roman Ruins and a monastery or two. Captivated by the history and culture we have enjoyed each and every moment. (Well - almost! There were a few steep climbs that caused us grief!)

We have tasted schnitzel, sauerkraut and strudel, sampled enough gelato for a lifetime and sipped more than our fair share of Bavarian brew.

We have been bitten by ticks and mosquitos, swarmed by ants, and inspected by swans. Mother Nature has served up blazing heat, tree downing winds and earth shaking thunderstorms, yet what has touched us most are the German people. Hard working, kind, generous and friendly they have left a lasting impression on us. Allow me to introduce you to a few of our favourites:

(We have changed names to protect the innocent)

Farmer Frank

During a very steep climb on loose, deep gravel Rob and I found ourselves off the bikes and struggling to push them up the hill. Off in the distance, we noticed a farmer observing us with interest. When he couldn’t seem to stand our obvious suffering a moment longer, he drove his tractor to meet us. Excitedly he yelled at us in German. Of course, we didn’t understand a single word he said, which made him yell at us louder and wave his arms with great ghussto.  Before we could comprehend what was happening, he lowered the tractor bucket, jumped off and loaded the two of us and our bikes in. There we were riding shotgun to the top of the hill in a tractor bucket.

Henry the Mayor of Ulm

As per usual we were stopped at a corner, deciding which direction to go, and likely looking very confused, when a kindly retired gentleman approached. In perfect English he asked if we were lost. Without much ado, he said his name was Henry and if we had an hour to spare he would love to give us a tour of Ulm. What a magical tour it was! Henry enthusiastically led us through the city streets sharing his insights along the way. Without a doubt the highlight was a visit to the Ulm Church. With its 161 meter high steeple, it is the biggest evangelic church in Germany and the tallest church in the world. To make it even more special it is the place that Henry married his bride.

Electric bike guy

During frequent stops at markets, one of us will stand on bike guard duty while the other shops. Likely, this isn’t necessary, but it is unsettling to leave your bikes and all your gear unattended. During one of my waits outside, I engaged in conversation with a gentleman who was loading up his electric bike. We gestured at each other, and with great pride he allowed me to taste drive his ride! I asked if he wanted to tried. It was not necessary to understand German to know that he did not think much of that idea.

Dessert Dan

Food is fuel! Often by the time we arrive at our campsites we are famished. Well truthfully, we are ALWAYS hungry.  You can imagine our delight when a fellow from the trailer park arrived at our tent laden with treats to share!

Route Update

Tonight we are camped on the grounds of a Gausthaus, just outside the city of Linz. Our sights are now set on Vienna, and YES we have been singing the Sound of Music Soundtrack as we cycle along!

Giggle

As we were standing on a corner in Passau, the City of Three Rivers, pondering our next turn, we were once again graced by the kindness of a stranger. Passau Pete, as we called him, asked where we were going and if he could be of help. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth we graciously accepted his offer. Like a flash of lightening he was on his bike beckoning us to follow. Digging deep within, I tried to match the speed of Rob and our benefactor. Like a flash we were out of the city on a crest of a hill. Passau Pete, pointed us in the direction of Budapest, wished us well, and was gone before we could properly thank him. As luck would have it, he had stopped us directly in front of a fresh strawberry stand. What were we to do? We purchased a small box of strawberries from the kindly vendor who seemed quite concerned that her berries would go bad on the back of our bikes. Never fear we tried to convey, the strawberries will be long gone before the heat of the day has a chance to spoil them, and with that we literally inhaled the entire pint. Our strawberry vendor was so impressed with our display of passionate strawberry consumption that she proudly presented us with two of the largest strawberries we have ever seen.

June 5 - Dead Ends

Meticulous route planning is not our forte. We prefer a more casual approach, trusting local knowledge and adjusting our overall plan as we ride. Usually we are successful. Today, however, we encountered our first dead end.

Excited to learn that the Monastery of Weltenburg, the oldest Benedictine Abbey of Bavaria, founded in 620 AD was just “around the corner” we picked up our pace and followed the clearly marked bike trail to the historic site. There in the distance loomed the famous church. Spectacular! What we failed to notice was the deadend! Looking at each other in disbelief we began to face the grim reality that after exploring the church, we may have to retrace our steps. Fortunately, Lady Luck was on our side. In the distance, we noticed quite a large lineup forming. Our curiosity piqued, we investigated. There it was - a ferry dock. The next leg of our Eurovelo 6 route was literally ON one Europe’s greatest rivers. Without a moments hesitation we joined the line and before we could blink we were cruising the Danube all the way to Kelheim. 

Route Update

Once again we find ourselves camped on the banks of the Danube. The river has grown considerably and we seen our first cruise ships and barges. Currently, we are on the outskirts of Regensburg, a bustling river city. Accustomed to Canadian back-country camping we are slowing adjusting to the German way. Here, the campsites are close to cities and the amenities rival those of fine hotels. Sparkling clean washrooms, complete with hot showers and laundry facilities, camp stores, and Biergarten’s bustling with beer drinking , schnitzel eating Bavarians. We are striving to acclimate!

Giggle

Under the scorching hot afternoon sun, we struggled to maintain a decent pace. Feeling tired, cranky, and literally fried, we longed for a cold, tall glass of lemonade. We lamented the fact that neighbourhood lemonade stands appear to be a thing of the past. Where are the enterprising young entrepreneurs when you need them most? And, just like that, the cycle Gods delivered. A few kilometres outside of Marxheim we rounded a bend to be greeted on the trail by a group of teenagers. Recent high school grads, they had set up camp on the corner and were playing a drinking game. When a passing car honked, they would guzzle. We stopped and visited for a while, caught up in the excitement of Grad. They were curious about us and wanted to learn more. Mischievously, I convinced them that we must be at least half way to Budapest by now. I asked if they knew the Bon Jovi song, Living on a Prayer. Without hesitation, they cranked the music and we began to sing, “you’re half way there, living on a prayer.” Joyfully, they passed us the bottle of Schnapps and we took a shot. When in Rome!