clairedavieswriter

I often talk about my Guardian Angels, but, so preoccupied was I the day before yesterday with the state of my knee, I think I failed to properly appreciate the importance of the GA’s intervention in Donauwörth. In hindsight, finding Zweirad Uhl when I did, virtually without deviating from our route, was extremely fortunate, both because it meant I had the full range of gears for the remainder of the day and because it saved me looking for a workshop in Augsburg. So when the first thing I saw this morning was a tram advertising this outfit, it felt like a sign:

We left Augsburg punishingly early – in a bid to avoid the punishing heat later. Our reward was this golden morning light on old buildings:

It was chance, rather than good planning, that found us leaving Augsburg on a Saturday, but weekends are always a good time to navigate cities, as there is so much less commercial traffic. And at 6.30am there was almost no traffic at all

We followed this dead straight road for 15k through Augsburg’s suburban sprawl. It wasn’t particularly exciting, but it gave me time to appreciate more details of German cycle infrastructure, like the fact that the stop line for vehicles was behind ours, to ensure drivers wishing to turn right would see and give way to cyclists continuing straight:

We were heading to our last destination on the Romantic Road, Landsberg am Lech. But it turned out we were also on the Via Claudia Augusta, which brought to mind one of the first cycling books I ever read, and which I recommend to you here: ‘A Bike Ride’ by Anne Mustoe (incidentally, also my headmistress for 7 years). A classicist/historian by training, she rode round the world (at the age of 54, with no background in cycling) following ancient trade and conquest routes, including the Via Claudia Augusta (fire hydrants not included):

WILT (what I learned today): Landsberg grew up at the crossroads of a salt road. What’s one of those? Glad you asked. Apparently, as far back as the Bronze Age, routes developed for transporting the stuff from areas rich in it to places that needed more of it.

Back at the start of my journey I must have crossed the medieval ‘Old Salt Road’ from Lüneburg in Lower Saxony (or as we all now call it, Niedersachsen – do keep up at the back) to Lübeck. Salt was a major factor behind the wealth of the Hanseatic League.

Not to be outdone, in the UK we have the ancient Salt Way, which runs from Droitwich Spa to Princes Risborough via Banbury. Ain’t human development fascinating?

I didn’t find Landsberg salty at all. The Lech looked inviting:

And the old town attractive, if blisteringly hot already at 10am:

The weekly market was just getting underway:

And in the next square along, in the shadow of the City Parish Church of the Assumption of Mary (ecclesiastical phrase of the day: Stadtpfarrkirche Maria Himmelfahrt):

… the Army were setting up a recruitment drive:

Which got me thinking about how places rehabilitate themselves from dark periods in their past. After all, Landsberg was where Hitler was imprisoned in 1923 and wrote Mein Kampf. And just outside the town, a concentration camp (KZ in German) was established in 1944 where around 15.000 people died. I passed this sign only a couple of miles outside Landsberg. Friedhof = cemetery.

But a lot of water has flowed under the bridge since then:

Highlights today included another stork-based baby announcement. How long do they keep them (and the line of babygros) up, I wondered? Fiona on the left is just a few months old, but Kilian on the right is already three!

And this refreshing draft (don’t be fooled by the last few letters, it’s non-alcoholic blueberry – delicious) reminded me of my ever-tolerant husband back home:

This wasn’t so much a highlight as downright intimidating: my first sight of the mountains that I’ll have to climb at least part of the way up to get to the border in two days time:

And this wasn’t really a highlight either, because I’ve loved my journey down the Romantic Road. It continues south east to Fussen, but we parted company with it here, in order to make our date with the border:

My top highlight of the day, for its sheer exuberance, was this local fan’s approach to the decoration of his house. Perhaps he would call it Total Football? Keeping fingers crossed for him tonight: