clairedavieswriter

Today the usually dependable Bernard, who in 4 years has not troubled me with more than a puncture (and none of those since I switched from tubeless Gravelkings to Schwalbes with inner tubes in May 2022 – don’t get me started on tubeless tyres) suffered the inconceivable: an actual mechanical failure. Just before this picture…

My server at breakfast told me that the Germans have a word for the cold snap we’ve just experienced here (of course they do): it’s Schafskälte. Literally, cold sheep. Because it always happens just after the farmers have sheared their flocks of their winter fleeces. I doubt any sheep were shivering today: for the first…

In the best tradition of the Guardian newspaper, it’s been pointed out that there were some errors/omissions in earlier posts that I need to correct/clarify: First, in an unsurprising development, it turns out I was wrong about the rally car on Day 5: Apparently it was not a Ford Cortina but an Opel Kadett (I’m…

It turns out that, along with some basic research, a better knowledge of German prepositions would have told me Rothenburg was on a hill: I learned today that its name means ‘red castle above the Tauber: It really is an extraordinary place, one of only four towns in Germany that still have completely intact walls…

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…

Having cycled into a headwind for 11 days and 800km, today, finally, the flags swung in my favour – smiley face indeed. I had some sympathy for the many cyclists coming in the other direction – teeth gritted, shoulders hunched, legs straining against the blast. We were all following the fantastic river Main cycle way:…

It was all go on the garage forecourt this morning (and indeed much of the night): But at least Bernard’s neighbours didn’t keep him awake The theme of today was incurring the wrath of Guillaume, because for whatever reason he seemed determined to route us onto main roads when the cycle network suggested otherwise. And…

From its circular shape on the map (suggesting an old, fortified settlement) and self-description as a festival and spa town, I’d expected more of Bad Hersfeld. But architecturally, the parts I saw were on a par with Basingstoke, with the exception of this lonely stone tower. However it turns out that I missed the town’s…

Today we left behind us the flat lands of northern Germany: it was time to cross a watershed to the valley of the river Fulda. And that could only mean one thing: Faced with such a challenge, the serious cyclist obviously thinks of fuel. And I’ve learned that, much like French boulangeries, German bäckerei are…

Einbeck was looking just as lovely in the early morning light as it had yesterday: The Altes Rathaus (old town hall) is like something out of a fairy tale: The main square was playing host to a weekly market this morning: This friendly chap, in a stream of unintelligible German (this is becoming something of…