clairedavieswriter

The activities of the local bin men at 6.30 this morning obviated the need for this splendid piece of bedside kit (see Day 12, ‘moderne Fremdenzimmer’). Probably just as well, since the clock seemed to be stuck on 8.00 (or 20.00; hard to say which year):

I didn’t know quite what to expect from today’s ride: I knew we were leaving the Main behind, and that there were a few lumps to get over on our way to our destination (we’ll come back to that last little lump in a minute):

I thought we might be ‘between cycle paths’ and would have to ride on roads. After 12 days on German cycle infrastructure, I really should have known better.

We took a last took at Ochsenfurt (literally, ‘Oxenford’ or just ‘Oxford’):

… and then had barely 200 yards to ride beside a main road (safely separated, on a twin-use pavement, signposted as a cycle path), before being directed onto this old railway line:

Which carried us halfway to our destination, without a car in sight. As with many old railway lines, it wasn’t always the most scintillating ride – we were often in a tunnel of trees, and generally skirted villages:

But (blessed be the railway engineers) it did a great job of smoothing out the gradients, and when we hit open country, our guardian angels were on our side: we had a following wind for the second day running. Other gods were also available:

For the first 25k, we saw several people out with dogs, and a whole posse of fit-looking female Nordic walkers, but virtually no other cyclists. That changed in the village of Bieberehen;

… where we left the Gaubahn behind and joined another traffic-free path beside the river Tauber:

… that would take us all the way to our destination. This path was much more popular with cyclists, but I’d love to know where they all came from because they were noticeably less friendly than I’ve found elsewhere – I struggled to extract a nod, let alone a smile or a greeting, from most of them.

But that’s ok, as I was more interested in enjoying the views:

Highlights today included this official-looking grafitti on the Gaubahn, bearing the relatable message/assertion: ‘The right to personal freedom’

And this cute bit of street art at an old station:

I also love these benches for people to wait for their ride-share. Car-pooling has been a thing in Germany for decades: I did it on my year abroad in 1989 (a long drive from Baden Baden to Lubeck and Berlin with Liz). Word of the day – mitfahr, literally ‘drive with’

And I enjoyed finding this Goethe quote on the side of an otherwise unmarked barn way out in the countryside,

‘He who loves not wine, women, or song

Remains a fool his whole life long’:

But the main excitement of the day was the knowledge that we’d be joining this:

The Romantic Road was dreamt up in the 1950s, as a way to attract tourists. But its longevity proves that its not just a gimmick. It connects some of Bavaria’s most beautiful old towns, and I’d diverted from my strictly north-south route so that I could visit some of them. The first hints came in Creglingen:

But Rothenburg ob der Tauber is on another level altogether:

Albeit it has something of the Chitty Chitty Bang Bang childcatcher scene about it:

I confess that after so long in the back of beyond, it was a bit jarring to suddenly be among so many tourists.

As in many tourist sites, the locals often have to adapt to accommodate us foreigners. The waitress at dinner, who had already been quite tolerant of my own linguistic limitations, showed considerable ingenuity when having to explain the word ‘liver’ to a group of Japanese guests.

Waitress: It’s an organ.

Tourists: (blank looks)

Waitress: You can’t live without it. If you drink too much, the liver doesn’t like it.

Tourists: (starting to cotton on)

Waitress: (pointing to her body) It’s here.

Tourists: (looking a little concerned)

Waitress, hastily: But it’s from a cow.

Tourists: Ah! (Conferring in Japanese and nodding). Liver!

I hope they understood, because they ordered some.

Unfortunately, Rothenburg is not just figuratively but literally on another level, as in: it’s 200 metres above the river Tauber. You’d think I’d have spotted this, given that I planned the route myself, but no. Guillaume gave me a look as if to say ‘I’ve been trying to warn you…’

So it was a demanding last couple of kilometres, but we made it, and I’ve got the whole day to recover/explore tomorrow. This charming little hotel is our home for the next two nights:

Provided they don’t throw me out for flouting the rules:

Needs must, and I’ve been very discreet: