Departure from Regensburg was easy. Seems that that Regensburg population doesn't get out of bed before 9am on a weekend. I on the other hand was struggling with staying up at night. Doing over 40kms of cycling a day was influencing my sleep patterns. By the time I was finished each day on the bike all it would take is a meal and an ice cream and I was done. Plus, with my trip being destination to destination I was perhaps more aware to be on the road to the next stop to ensure I would see something at the other end. Even with late sunsets and daylight saving time it didn't mean museums or churches were always open later. I guess I could have taken the other view and seen the towns before leaving each day however I wasn't taking a chance on the weather changing. If it was fine in the morning the rule was, ride!
Not far out of Regensburg was one of the tour stage highlights. A place called Wahalla. Personally I hadn't heard of the place until I started researching my trip watching you tube videos of cycle rides between German towns. It's a memorial of German historical figures that was created by Crown Prince Ludwig in the 1800s. Think a room full of statue heads. Creepy indeed by our expectations of what makes a memorial.
My initial thoughts on arrival were quite justified. Why build it on the top of a hill. Why must they always build these things on a hill. You see I had managed to detour off the bike path along the river to a point where I could see the building. Taking the straight line theory to the building I thought the front stairs were how you had to get there. Fortunately for me I had encountered stairs at the walking path. This justified my dumping the bicycle at the base of the hill as I'm in the middle of the countryside. There was no one there to steal it. I was therefore only pulling myself up the hill.
I was led towards the visual front of the building with the couple hundred giant stairs going vertically up from the base of the hillside. It wasn't until I had accomplished the climb and was walking around the back of the memorial that I got even a glimpse of the carpark. I didn't have a car, and therefore hadn't seen the real tourist road to the memorial. I did suspect half way up the stairs this would be the case. I could only be sure that even royalty would not have built in this position if they expected anyone to visit it. My only reward was knowing the others visiting the memorial didn't have the bragging rights on having climbed the stairs.
After completing the climb around Wahalla it was smooth sailing to Straubing. Can't say I really achieved much in Straubing. It was a nice town. I just walked up and down the main street and the town centre. There was the world cup being played on big screens inside all the beer gardens but nothing I especially happening to make my stay memorable.
After having the nightmare of a ride the day before I knew my ride from Kelheim to Regensburg would be fine. I knew this not because I had seen the weather forecast. I knew this because I had just spent $150 on a top quality rain jacket that was sure to keep me dry. After drying out in Kelheim during the afternoon as soon as my bag arrived I had hightailed it to a sports store, and then when not satisfied with the selection there I discovered there was an actually shopping centre just out of the city centre away from the tourist focused old town. Anyway I knew the rules. Don't buy a jacket and it'll piss down again. Or buy a jacket and have a dry ride for the rest of the cycling week. It wasn't really a choice in the end.
So with my unexpected purchase on, and extra clothes in the side pannier of to Regensburg it was for me. The extra clothes were just in case I again beat my suitcase to Regensburg. The ride on this third day of cycling was also much shorter than I had experienced previously. For the first 2 days I had entered the farmlands. Here I was heading back to the big smoke. Regensburg would be the biggest city I would stop in until Passau. The cycle ride wasn't as eventful as the previous. I didn't stop in the smaller town of Bad Abbach. There was a small threat of a shower so I was more hesitant to rest in the town the guide books had said was a spa town for cyclists passing through. Then no sooner than I had left the town it took it's revenge.
You see just outside of Bad Abbach there was some not so smart cookie that must of hated cyclists and so decided to move the cyclists out off the town road onto the top of river levy banks to pass by the town. Only instead of leaving the top of the levy bank as the hard screed, or surfacing with concrete they had placed a more finer dirt like substance on it to make it smooth and inviting. They had made sure also that the signage directed cyclist onto this path. Only when I had gotten about 200m along this path did I realise why the local cyclist ahead of me seemed to not divert on this path. After the day of rain it had become clay. A soft quicksand of clay that was quickly making my bike go from 15kgs to about 30kgs and impossible to pedal. After another 200m I was stopped. I hadn't fully appreciated at this time why I felt so unfit. I had noticed my tyres sliding down into the surface. I even looked back noticing the track mark I had left in my wake. I was cursing the path designer at this stage. Who the ... puts mud on a bike path. I gave up. With a road only 20 metres away I went cross country down off the embankment to bitumen I knew I could cycle freely. Only when I got even there I was still disabled. My bicycle mudguard had collected so much I was chocked up on both rims. It took 5 minutes of creative bouncing of the bike to dislodge enough mud to continue.
It wasn't long from here before I was greeted by the signs suggesting I was nearly in Regensburg. However I was slightly tricked. The park outside the edge of Regensburg directly me along the river rim and not the straight line to Regensburg so it did seem forever I was entering the city.
Originally when booking the tour I had considered staying an extra night here because it was somewhat popular on the tour websites. It would have also allowed a rest day. If I was doing more than a week riding I would definitely required a bicycle free day. After all professionals on the Tour de France get rest days too.
Regensburg was the first truly large city I had stayed in Germany this time around. And with larger cities comes the bus tours. The American bus tours were here in droves. The tour guide with their umbrellas and "follow me" sticks were out and about being followed by their less able bodied guests with the look of why can't we be sitting on a bus right now. Heck some of the most annoying were fully kitted out in full headsets without a distraction in the world that could remind them they were also in the middle of the walking footpath. Yelling at each other to make a comment. They'd even blindly look at me as if to not comprehend why a person pushing a bike was staring at them. Patience Chad patience I thought to myself. Let the cars sort them out.
Of note the partners of Radweg Reisen to my cycle tour Austria Radreisen finally sorted themselves out here (my booking seemed to straddle 2 partner ride tour companies). My welcome kit found me 3 days in after my sending some very concerned emails days before about not having maps, bag tags, or tickets for the Weltenberg ferry, and a museum in Ingolstadt. It had maps! Very detailed maps of where to ride, and where to turn off. And tickets tickets for the ferry. Very impressed. Would have been useful. Realisation was how the heck would a guest of less travel experience of survived without.
Regensburg was nice. Perhaps could have stayed an extra night and still filled up my time. But with a limited stay I kept my express city tour focus in place. It meant I didn't go into the extra museums etc and kept to the walking around and experiencing the old city feel I enjoy. I did though make up for missing out on the Weltenberger Abbey Dunkel in Kelheim by visiting a Weltenberg Brewery Restaurant.
Before even booking my trip I spent hours deciding up what I wanted to do. When I decided upon taking a self guided cycling tour the second level of the decision was where? And from there the decision would cascade down. Germany was the country as I am very comfortable travelling in Germany. Then it came down to region. This decision was made by google research on the Weltenberg Abbey. My searching had come across this picture perfect summer cycling day involving the oldest Benedictine Monk Brewery Monastery in the world. In my head it was going to be great. The ride was to be only about 55kms. Then I'd arrive at the monastery do a tour of the grounds, have a taste of their famous dunkel beer, and then hop onto the ferry that would transport me the remainder of the way. 15kms to Kelheim by ferry. And Kelheim itself was going to be another picture perfect town with plenty of history.
The day was doomed from the beginning. I left Ingolstadt early as I knew it was likely to rain. I will say the weather prediction did indicate it would be deteriorating throughout the day. I guess I refused to accept that this meant it was going from bad to worse. No sooner than I had been on the road for a bit the rain hit. My jacket wasn't build to withstand much rain. So it wasn't long before I was growing towards an acceptance that I was wet and would just have to put up with it. If I was back home considering a regular ride I would have cancelled. But here the backpack was going to the next destination. It was my task to meet it at the other end. And that meant taking the bike to the other end too.
I had ridden from point to point through numerous showers. The paths had been quite difficult most of the way with much of it gravel dirt levy banks along the river. The puddles I had ridden through were getting larger and larger. There was no where to hide. I would have stopped and attempted to dry out but it was getting worse and worse. And all I could think was I can get to the Abbey and dry out there. Alas by the time I made it to Weltenberg I looked like a drowned rat. And it was at this time I came across the ticket seller to the Abbey with a I'm on a smoking break look on her face and in her voice. She saw me arrive and in German indicated that the Abbey was closed. I perhaps should have tried in my broken German to enquire a bit more if the Abbey was actually open. It was just too convenient for her so say no whilst ripping the cigarette from the pack departing the ticket booth.
Convenience had her directing me to the ferry terminal around the corner. And hence with defeat upon my face I just accepted it wasn't my day and that I should continue on in search of warmth and a dry hotel room. To my defence in the rain it did look closed, and I had just seen a bus load of tourists leave the other way back to the carpark. When I made it around the corner I was confronted by a gaggle of German tourist who had just disembarked the tourist ferry I was now heading towards. Their direction was the ticket booth I had just been brushed off from, or perhaps back towards the carpark for a tour bus. I was unsure. Damn it I thought. Maybe it was open, and I was just too difficult to deal with being the only English tourist, and a drowned disheveled one at that. Never get in the way of a hardcore smoker and a cigarette it would seem.
But it was too late for me. I was a defeated man. Mentally I was already on that departing ferry about to leave. So without hesitation I was in line for a ticket. I will never know what the Abbey is like. I missed the opportunity to try the beer at the Abbey itself. The thought of a warm shower was much more compelling.
The ferry ride was a relief. Time to sit and have a beer. Any beer would do. Through the day I hadn't eaten since breakfast since it was always raining, and I had wanted to get keep going to get out from the rain. Upon arrival into Kelheim I made straight for the hotel. Alas nothing had gone to plan, not even my arrival. My suitcase hadn't arrived as it was only 3:30pm. It would only be guaranteed to arrive by 6pm. So all I could do was sit and wait in my converted drying shed of a hotel room. A minor inconvenience after what had seemed such a long day in the saddle.
Welcome Ladies and Gentlemen to the review coverage of this year's Tour de Donau. For those who may have just joined the coverage the path was to take riders along the Donau river through southern Germany over seven nights with 350kms of cycling coverage over 6 days.
Unlike the Tour de France where we see 19 teams with 8 riders, each with their 2 team cars, support crews, team buses, a gendarme fleet, and the related tour caravan of promotional advertisers the peloton for this tour was much more subdued. In fact pared back very significantly. The number of riders was in fact one. One solitary rider.
Marketing officials were quick to point out that the rider was in fact an amateur cycling tourist from Australia who had paid for his own sponsorship, accommodation, and support team. The support team, Radweg-Reisen were to provide services along the way including accommodation and the transport of luggage. Heck the instructions from Donauwörth hotel reception on arrival the afternoon before, had instructed to just look in the garage for the bikes, they each have a name tag and starting date, and then in the morning breakfast was from 7am. Just be sure to leave bags at reception for collection by the driver before 9am. No other tour documentation would be provided it seemed. Radweg-Reisen clearly considered the cycle race Tour de Donau a mere booking of their Donauwörth to Passau Cycle Path. It was obvious that this tour wasn't a pro-cycle tour sanctioned event and therefore there would be no doping other then that of the self administered amber variety, and Eis (ice cream).
The support team at the start line in the morning weren't aware of the official race timetable, nor of any additional documentation available. The van driver was surprised I was asking about what was meant by the "red bag tags", and questioned if I had a map. After hearing of my verbal no he said he'd try and find one for me. It wasn't until later I learnt there was supposed to be a welcome pack of some sort with detail.
Perhaps in part due to the close proximity to the Tour de France which was to start only days after this tour concluded, and because I had booked my own way did it become clear the ride not on the world pro-cycling calendar. My pedigree of being Team Chad's GC rider (General Classification) had been lost on the tour organisers.
What wasn't lost on me though was the fact day one's itinerary of 65kms. As a casual cyclist I hadn't ridden more than 45kms in one ride. Realisation early on was that fact that equipment supplied wasn't like back home where I rode a thin wheeled road bike on bitumen roads. The bike here although rolling well was heavy set, had a pannier to hold stuff or take the balance out depending on your perspective, and a giant basket on the front which prevented the mounting the go pro as I had planned. Many of the roads outside of the major town stops would be on gravel paths through farm fields. Not just dedicated cycle paths.
Without any larger official map I had been left with the tour's vague initial information pack which was to follow the "clearly" marked Donau bikeway. Only it also become quickly clear that I wasn't used to looking in the same directional manner the path designer had intended, and nor did I have the same expectation of the word "clearly". So within the first kilometre I was already backtracking to the start on the oft chance I had missed a sign because there was no sign when I made it to a first major junction. Once finally leaving Donauwörth I was lost, and to be continually lost until I could make it to the next hotel. My guide was a mobile phone with limited juice, and a Map app for which I had discovered not enough maps of the local area were downloaded. Unfortunately I also hadn't figured out how to get my Frankfurt purchased mobile data plan to work properly. Contrary to the German salesperson I wasn't in retrospect right to go after all. Reality was I was on wifi only, in the German countryside, without a map, hopefully following enough signs to get me to Ingolstadt via Neuburg.
About 25kms along I made it into some small town along the way. Here there was a well set up small brewery with garden area and a sign. This would be the first real opportunity to just rest and take in the scenery. Until this point I had been pedalling hard just to get over 20kms an hour. I was struggling on the small rolling hills already, and knew I wasn't really following the river tightly. I did though read reviews previously warning of the first day being both fairly long, and with rolling hills so wasn't too concerned.
By the time I hit Neuburg I was about 50kms into the ride. The situation had changed. There was a section where I had not seen a sign for about 3 kilometres. So I concluded that the path had taken me down a wrong way, or was missing a few signs. Joining back before Neuburg was a relief. It suggested even if I did lose a path I couldn't really go far wrong. Neuburg itself was quaint highlight. It was pretty, with a nice sized historical centre. The historical centre was all but empty as it was separated from the commercial centre. Tourist information staff were keen to point out that tour buses were yet at peak season levels.
After stopping for lunch I started my way out from Neuburg. I realised I might need to stop the Strava app from recording my "record ride" as I had seen my battery power drain fast due to the phone data issue. So of course this was where it was all starting to go pear shaped. About a kilometre out from Neuburg the weather came in. An afternoon storm front. Not too heavy but enough to raise concern if I didn't keep going. Especially as I had 20kms to go.
Then about 10kms out I completely lost the cycle path. For about 2kms I was following the Donau which gave me some confidence. However I had then ignored a sign which in I retrospect realise indicated the bike path was closed. But it hadn't also indicated an alternative path. So I just continued for another 3kms until the path really got bad. I even had to walk a section of path which was clearly a manual diversion away from the river through the scrub. I suspect because a path bank had been wiped out or removed. In this diversion I nearly stood on a snake resting. I quickly got out of there and vowed to follow the path more clearly from then only. But my troubles weren't over there.
By the time I made it to Ingolstadt it was about 5pm. The weather was further deteriorating, although not yet raining. I was down to 3% battery power on the phone. Not good as it was my map, address recorder and photograph taker. The Gopro was already dead. I was a bit lost for a bit in the city centre without a map. However after a bit of backtracking removed myself out to the river where I was able to locate the correct bridge, and then follow my hand written directions to the hotel taken before the battery died. Thankfully I located my hotel. Unfortunately it was the least centrally located hotel of my tour. I was shattered but alive. A rest allowed recovery for a walk into town for dinner and photo tour. Day one was marked off. I was so tired.
So I did eventually leave the Amalfi Coast. It's not an easy place to leave. It's over an hour drive even at 7am in the morning without the traffic as I found out. One of the fellow guests was getting a ride to the airport and well I just jumped on as it was just easier that way. The alternative would have been to figure out trains and buses. And well I was lucky I could just hand over money and make the problem go away.
So I had returned to Naples the start of my Italian adventure. Having flown in only briefly a week before I had not actually gotten to see the city. My first visit was merely get into the city, and eat a pizza. However on this visit I had goals to achieve. Places to see, yes. But more importantly I was here to make, and eat pizza.
Staying in an Airbnb was also a part of my authentic experience. The place was okay. The host quirky, local, decent stay in a very central location. However the entrance to the apartment was somewhat scary. Realisation was I was 4 levels up with backpack on the back in a stairwell which was literally crumbling away. The building was under renovations like much of Naples. Or well any old European city. You could just tell Naples was still recovering financially from years of struggle.
Naples Catacombs
After checking in I made tracks to go see one of the main tourist highlights, a part the underground city. I chose the Catacombs of San Gennaro. It somewhat helps explains why my Airbnb building had been untouched. If the owners waited longer it'd possibly be added to the catacombs.
One extra good thing about returning to Naples again was "Naples Prices". This place was so cheap to sit down and eat. It was very reasonable food, and all with the the historical context. Just a few of the pizza places which had found fame on the tourist junket tour lists were off limits due to the herd mentality of visitors. I personally went by the places that were busy enough to be serious about food but not so busy they it seemed like a tour brochure venue. There was plenty to choose from.
The second day was decided to the Pizza Making class. I had booked this online months before arriving. Sure pizza doesn't require rocket science but it was a goal of mine to make pizza in the city considered it's origin. Pizza was created as a food of the poor. A food of the masses. So it's an experience not requiring more than a few hours. My tour was a bit haphazard in that we were redirected to an alternative venue. So I and just one other were transported by our Pizza mafia transport to the outskirts of Naples for a genuine class with a chef in what seemed like a brand new restaurant that wasn't even opened to the public. This restaurant all set out without anything out of line. The facility looked like it was functioning from the inside however the big construction fence was still up and hiding the place. In the kitchen they were still unpacking pots and pans for the glass window viewing area kitchen. I suspect this was in part why the class had been relocated. The chef needed to test the kitchen equipment and start preparing before going live. Perhaps it was even that day. The class in retrospect was okay even if it wasn't quite the expected classroom atmosphere of a regular cooking class. Delivery of the class was slightly compromised but I still made a pizza, so the goal was achieved!
Rest of my time in Naples was spend wandering around between pizza and gelati. Nothing wrong with that for a goal. I think next time in Italy I should do the gelati making classes (they do exist!).
A hike to Ravello was the final daily activity on the Intrepid Travel tour. Now I must admit I had not really analysed the tour itinerary in great detail after making the decision to book. Features that had motivated my decision to book were more the fact the tour didn't move around too much, it completed the regional destinations of Mount Vesuvius, Pompeii, Positano, and Capri, and it would also allow me tho opportunity to swim, get sun, and get active. Oh and eat. What I did not really consider was how many stairs is that. Which is probably a good thing as I hate stairs. Don't get me wrong like my gym trainer says I'll still do it when told, but I'll reserve the right to hate the process and voice my option to that issue.
Ravello was the final stair climb. The penultimate day of stair climbing. It really was a pure climb up. From Amalfi we started the climb by walking around to Atrani. From there it was climb, climb, climb. Switchbacks aplenty were to be found. And that was not just for the drivers on the road. Luckily for hikers we could skip a switchback with a nicely placed staircase. Though it didn't make it preferable to driving up. Along the way stories would be sprouted by the guide about the history of the region. If I remember rightly there was some story of a wealthy gentleman who escaped to the region to avoid persecution involving being placed into a well on the top of a mountain. This more shows my focus on self preservation on the climb up than to remember the story. Points along the road were perhaps more for allowing me to catch my breath than to observe the beauty of the region and remember the history.
Finally all the way at the top, at Ravello, the call came out from a fellow colleague that we had indeed done the equivalent of a 94 story building. In just 2 hours or so. Arrival into Ravello was greeted without the fanfare of having completed a building stair climb. Locals were busy getting on with their Saturday. Inside the church flowers were being placed for an afternoon wedding. The public square wasn't upon arrival buzzing with tourists. It was too sunny for them to be up here away from the beach. The place was littered with a smattering of tourists without signs of being over run. It left the town with an air of exclusivity. This was were the people in the know would go. You could go into the cafes overlooking the edge down to the coastline below without being hurried along. The place was picture perfect with clean lines and paths ready for an onslaught of buses in summer. But they were not here, not on this day.
Walking through Ravello we made it to the viewing point to remember. This was after all our final view of the whole region. We took it in. Visually surveying our accomplishments of the past few days.
After lunch and a bit of a walk around it was time to accept the laws of gravity. What goes up must come down. Fortunately there was a means to return without a complete repeat of the path. However the reality was that this path although quicker and straighter than our ascent was also tougher and steeper than the climb. A step down may seem okay. But when they seem to design it all with a step and a half down every time you start to feel it on the knees after over a 1000 stairs. Needless to say the walk up was prettier. The walk down was about efficiency.
It's only fair that Amalfi gets it's own posting dedicated to itself. After all it was the town that had hosted me for 4 nights on the Intrepid Tour. It may not get the accolades of Positano in fame. But to me it was the best place to base the majority of the Amalfi Coast stay in. Positano although beautiful, and a closer connection to Capri, was very hilly, and well seemingly even more over priced, and less connected. Perhaps too the glamour of being the most well known destination, the focus of the Americans we overhead on the local bus had jilted me. I may not have been out overnight in Positano however the impression was it was a place you walk down the main street only once or twice and otherwise stayed in your accommodation as it's quite a hike back up the hill for most guests. This was not the case in Amalfi. Most of the accommodation was towards the town centre right down in the town square. There was quite a connection to the town square with many cafes, restaurants, and the all important gelato providers. Although we found a lack of a nightclub for continuing on, there was plenty of buzz earlier in the evenings of restaurant dinners, and Aperol Spritz connoisseurs.
Duomo di Amalfi
Each day of our stay had started with waking up and venturing onto our breakfast balcony area for the view of the Duomo di Amalfi. We were looking straight across to it. We could not have been more central. Perhaps that's why the hotel was the Hotel Centrale. By the evenings it was a place for people watching from above, and across for the multitude of groups who would take refuge on the giant staircase. These large stone staircases are such a common sight in Italy's historical regions.
From the hotel each day would be an adventure out from Amalfi. Only the nights were based here. Heck we had spent so much time out of Amalfi I felt by the last day were were kind of short changing Amalfi. I hadn't the time to visit the paper mill museum mentioned by our tour guide and the tourism guides. I had only had an hour on the sun beds of the stone beach out the front, and I had only partaken in a selection of gelato. Oh how cruel is life when one doesn't have time to live a life of leisure on a holiday.
Incidentally I did and didn't miss out on one adventure during the stay in Amalfi. On the Friday night some of the other tour guests had arranged to go up to Ravello at night having heard about a Summer nights music festival in the region. So most of the group followed taking a bus to watch a classical music concert. They were all quite chuffed at the experience and can say they had a great time for it. But I chose not to, and well wasn't displeased with the decision. I needed the down time to do my own thing. I ended up venturing out for a pizza, walking up and down the alleys of Amalfi finding shops, restaurants, and dead-ends of staircases in search of photographs for my memories.
Our evenings on tour were our own. And although it might have been
tempting sometimes to keep walking around until too late to order it was much
nicer to dine with fellow tour guests. This for me ended up in one of my best decisions for something I would not have otherwise done. One evening we
ventured to Da Gemma, the only Michelin starred restaurant in Amalfi for a fine
dining experience. Well worth it. The meal wasn't as expensive as I
could have gone. Perhaps that was because I don't do seafood in pasta. I would have went the steak but for it being not Italian enough for my thinking. I
did though play up for the camera getting a Mr Bean moment of disgust
at seeing the menu prices.
Perhaps one of the more memorable and more fitting experiences was
basically our final experience as a tour group. After the final dinner
we ventured off as a group to one of the traditional cafes to try their
dessert display. And well we couldn't just be simple. We had a goal. A
goal to pretty much try every single dessert in their cabinet display.
So with great complication we set up three tables inside the cafe as we
were too many to secure an outside table. Then some of the ladies just
ventured off to order the dessert for the group. And we then just shared
and tried as we liked. I was fairly restrained. It was but just a
taste. Not a time for hoovering.
It was interesting doing this last dessert experience because contrary to the photo it wasn't all smooth sailing. A bunch of English speakers taking over in small Italian cafe was kind of awkward. But we had fun.
Departure from Regensburg was easy. Seems that that Regensburg population doesn't get out of bed before 9am on a weekend. I on the other hand was struggling with staying up at night. Doing over 40kms of cycling a day was influencing my sleep patterns. By the time I was finished each day on the bike all it would take is a meal and an ice cream and I was done. Plus, with my trip being destination to destination I was perhaps more aware to be on the road to the next stop to ensure I would see something at the other end. Even with late sunsets and daylight saving time it didn't mean museums or churches were always open later. I guess I could have taken the other view and seen the towns before leaving each day however I wasn't taking a chance on the weather changing. If it was fine in the morning the rule was, ride!
Not far out of Regensburg was one of the tour stage highlights. A place called Wahalla. Personally I hadn't heard of the place until I started researching my trip watching you tube videos of cycle rides between German towns. It's a memorial of German historical figures that was created by Crown Prince Ludwig in the 1800s. Think a room full of statue heads. Creepy indeed by our expectations of what makes a memorial.
