clairedavieswriter

Sorry for the delay… I’d imagined that I would use my all-day train journey to Brussels from Oberstdorf (btw, not a bad view from the station):

… to write a few general thoughts, but instead 7 hours flew by in the company of a couple of German cyclists – Karin and Vera, it was great to meet you.

Soon after they got off, and when I had less than 45 minutes till my connection in Köln, Deutsche Bahn threw their customary spanner (tool of the day: Schraubenschlüssel) into my carefully planned itinerary. The train’s aircon wasn’t working, so the obvious thing to do was to kick us all out onto a boiling platform in Koblenz:

But happily, that experience provided good examples to illustrate some of the things I’d observed about Germans and Germany.

First, the kindness and consideration of the passengers and staff, who explained to me what was happening, helped me get Bernard off the train (as they had on every train I used), and told me where to re-book onto a different train.

And second, Germany’s continuing love of paperwork. For reasons I still don’t understand (because I could use my ticket on any other train), the information desk printed me off a new itinerary, carefully ink-stamped and signed:

And then I had to go to the next-door office to get Bernard a new ticket from Köln to Brussels:

Which also had to be stamped and signed on the reverse, obviously:

And yet at no point during the rest of my journey was I asked to produce either of these documents. Baffling.

Speaking of trains: while DB passenger services are currently only predictable in their unreliability, I noticed that Germany relies heavily on the railways for other things. Up near the Danish border I saw two long southbound trains carrying what looked like dozens of holidaymakers’ cars, complete with roof boxes and bike carriers. Days later I counted over 250 new cars on one goods train. And all over the country, enormously long freight trains trundled by. Imagine the road traffic they’re saving: the new car transporter alone was the equivalent of 21 lorries:

Other curiosities I observed: Germans use debit cards much less routinely than we do: I often saw diners paying their bills in cash (word of the day: Bargeld).

And while there seem to be fewer young people vaping than in the UK, there also seemed to be more older smokers. Machines selling cigarettes were everywhere, even in small villages, but this was the only one I saw selling vapes (or cannabis):

With few exceptions, houses, blocks of flats, and gardens looked well-maintained, and even the smallest villages had imaginative, expensive-looking playgrounds. Many in the south even had swimming pools. This one was in the town of Gelchsheim, population, 853:

Germany is incredibly clean and tidy. I can’t recall a scrap of litter alongside the hundreds of miles of cycle paths I followed. Partly this must be down to the army of council maintenance teams I saw everywhere, strimming, mowing and presumably emptying bins.

And in towns, street sweepers were a regular sight:

But it doesn’t explain the lack of litter, which I think must instead be down to the sense of discipline and consideration for others that I’ve mentioned before. People routinely tidy up after themselves at cafés and drop their litter in bins.

The attitude of dog walkers to cyclists is another example of the same thing. Seeing me coming along a shared path they would invariably stop, leash their dog and make it sit while I passed.

And as I’ve said, drivers stop and wait at junctions/pedestrian crossings well before cyclists or walkers reach them. Unlike in the UK, there’s no sense that you’re a nuisance to drivers: you don’t feel obliged to hurry when a car has stopped for you.

It’s clear that Germans abide by the rules (in 1,250k I never saw a cyclist run a red light, whereas within 20 minutes of being back in London that seemed to be the norm). Sometimes we mock them for their rule-following, but the flip side is that things are predictable and safe. And even if you’re occasionally inconvenienced – as a driver, delayed a few seconds by a cyclist; as a pedestrian waiting for the green signal when the road is empty; or as a cyclist when asked to cycle at walking pace on a shared pavement:

… those moments are easily balanced by the occasions when the rules work in your favour. Ultimately, following the rules makes life more comfortable for everyone – or as this sign says, ‘consideration makes the path wider’

A few more random observations:

I’m curious as to why German hotels fold the duvet into a triple turnover, requiring you to make the bed yourself. Answers on a postcard please:

I enjoyed the (mostly Bavarian) custom of decorating houses with murals – presumably depicting the building’s past:

And I loved these maypole-type things, often decorated with shields depicting local businesses. This one was in Bavaria; further north, they were usually topped with Christmas trees:

And finally, the cycling. Have I mentioned how good the cycling infrastructure is?

My guidebook had noted that Germany ‘has one of the most extensive networks of cycle paths in the world’. ‘Extensive’ needn’t mean ‘good’, but in this case it definitely does. In my experience the German network is at least as good as the Netherlands’, in how much of it is separated from traffic, how consistently well-surfaced and joined-up it is, and how well-signposted it is. Unlike in the UK, where we get the occasional arrow indicating a numbered National Cycle Network route, but with no destination, and no consistency, in Germany you could probably manage quite well without a GPS:

So if anyone reading this is thinking of cycling through Germany, I’d say do it. Just don’t go north to south. If I’d gone the other way, and had the same southerly wind, I might not have had to pedal at all.

Incidentally, there’s a German idiom for this idea of regretting your decisions (of course there is). Pleasingly, it is relevant for a bicycle journey, because it’s ‘hätte hätte Fahrradkette’ – literally, ‘coulda, woulda, bicycle chain’.

Speaking of bicycles, I should finish with a tribute to Bernard, my trusty Drahtesel – literally, wire donkey – who arrived in style at St Pancras having got me through another 1.250k without a puncture.

Vielen dank, mein Freund.

And vielen dank to you for following Team Bernard’s latest adventure. See you in August, for the next one!