clairedavieswriter

I’ve said it before, but there’s something inexplicably exciting about encountering certain rivers. The Romans had their Rubicon, and perhaps it left its mark on our DNA. Whatever the reason, reaching the Danube (or the Donau, as it’s known in German) is a moment I’d been looking forward to since I first planned this trip. The first tantalising mention came mid-morning:

And then, there she was: Europe’s second-longest river (the Volga is longer), and the one that touches 10 countries and connects more capital cities (4) than any other river on earth:

Oddly perhaps, there wasn’t a big ‘confluence of the Danube’ sign.

I’d been following the Traun, the same river that led me from Bad Ischl to Traunsee yesterday – it’s the kind that goes in one end of a lake and emerges unscathed at the other:

When I noticed some cyclists up ahead stopping and pointing. If it hadn’t been for them, I would have missed the moment where the Danube meets the Traun (or the other way round). Note the sharp colour difference when they first meet: the light Danube at the top, dark Traun below:

Other highlights of the day included:

The weather: after a properly scary storm last night (all I can say is, I’m glad I wasn’t in my little tent), this is the smile of someone who knows (a) it isn’t going to rain today and (b) she’s going to have a following wind virtually the whole ride:

My sensational mid-morning snack – a cloud of light, flaky pastry, flecked with almonds and oozing oodles of vanilla deliciousness. One of the best things about cycling is being able to call this ‘fuel’ with a straight face (cf Linzertorte, below):

This was easily Bernard’s favourite moment of the day:

He loves a boat ride, and this one was all the better for having been disguised as a bridge on my route (perhaps Guillaume wanted it to be a surprise):

For €4, we were ferried to the north bank town of Mauthausen, site of a forced labour concentration camp in WW2, where more than 100,000 prisoners died or were killed between 1938 and 1945. There was no sign of its dark past today – it’s a popular refuelling stop for passing cyclists, with an attractive river frontage:

For a spell after Mauthausen, the cycle path took us inland, past huge fields of pumpkins – word of the week: Kürbis:

But it’s not for nothing that the valley is so fertile. At a bend in the river between Mauthausen and Grein we rode through these massive flood gates:

And just across the road was evidence that 24 years ago I’d have needed a boat to complete this ride. That marker at the very top is the flood level on 14 August 2002:

This spot is several hundred metres from the normal course of the river, which gives an idea of the volume of water involved.

A signboard nearby told the story of floods over the centuries, and the recent decision taken by a group of communities (notwithstanding the millions of euros invested in flood defences) to resettle and allow the natural floodplain to do its job.

But at least one farmer intends to stay put. You might just be able to make out the dyke round his property: the thick dark line below the buildings; and the flood gate: the sandy-coloured gap in it, to the left of the picture:

My route today skirted round Linz, but thanks to my domestique I didn’t miss the chance to sample its local speciality. Linzertorte is a delicious crumbly tart made with cinnamon, almonds and raspberry jam:

A two-cake day! No complaints here:

Incredibly, we only have three more days of cake-eating/cycling left. And tonight, Bernard is almost too excited to sleep, because before we even turn a pedal tomorrow, we’re catching another ferry:

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