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Travelogue
We knew today was going to be hot, and with more than 110 km to cycle, we left the campsite as early as possible today. The only problem was that this campsite takes a 20 Euro deposit off you for their fancy electronic key that unlocks the toilets, shower block and the numerous gates. That meant waiting until Campsite Guy appeared at reception, which officially was not going to be before 7 a.m. Fortunately, he showed up a bit earlier, so key returned and deposit recovered, we were on our way before 7:00 and whilst the day was still relatively cool. Relatively. It was already feeling worryingly warm.
As usual, we stopped for pastries and coffees as soon as we could. The temperature was already getting to M1, who consequently bought a cold bottle of Coke as well, drinking some of it at the table and slipping the bottle with the remainder into a pocket in his cycling journey and finishing it en route.
We started to see signs for a place called Worms. We thought it hilarious that there was apparently a German town whose name in English signifies bilateral animals that typically have a long cylindrical tube-like body, no limbs, and usually no eyes. Hilarious. Can you imagine?
M1 wondered if this phenomenon existed in reverse and looked up the German word for "worms". It's Würmer. Could there be a town in the UK called Würmer which coincidentally, in German means "bilaterale Tiere, die typischerweise einen langen, zylindrischen, röhrenförmigen Körper, keine Gliedmaßen und normalerweise keine Augen haben"?
No. There isn't. The umlout kind of rules this possibility out.
Disappointed with the lack of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy style symmetry that had been hoped for, we cycled on through the growing heat and eventually entered the fabled town of Worms.
And we nearly didn't leave.
Worms is an industrial town. There are lorries everywhere and we were closer to them than we wanted to be. Soon though, we left the main road and joined a cycle path alongside a lesser road. Sweet.
Except that after about 500 metres, we hit the German equivalent of that French classic, the Route Barrée sign. In Germany, this takes the form of the route being blocked, with no sign of any sort and absolutely no warning or heaven forbid, a detour sign. This is on international cycling route EV15, by the way.
These were major roadworks. Major. We couldn't see much because of large earth heaps placed by the machines, so it was hard to evaluate options.
We cycled back to where we'd joined the path and found a way to the opposite side of the road. Heading in the required direction and having looked at the map, we'd assumed we'd be able to detour around the works that way. But it was not to be. That side was closed as well.
More frantic map inspection, with brilliant sunshine reflecting off M1's phone making the task frustrating.
We found a way. But everywhere in Worms is an industrial estate with lorries parked, turning, arriving or leaving. Not great places to be on bikes. And there are fences not shown on the map so that routes through do not in fact exist. We tried several, each more frustrating and horrifying than the others.
Eventually we cycled back along the main road that had brought us into the lovely Worms and pursued a more radical detour. This one would work but terrify us to our very cores. So many lorries. Narrow roads. An absence of cycle paths. Even using pavements this was pretty horrendous.
We'd expected Germany to be cycling friendly. Perhaps everywhere except Worms it is.
But we made it and were hugely relieved to be leaving Worms behind!
We now crossed what most would call farmland but which today felt more like a desert. No, not a dessert. They're good. We like them. Maybe too much. No, a desert. Arid. No shade. The occasional camel. We didn't see any camels but it would have made sense.
An oasis appeared in the desert. Alongside the Rhine no less. Yes, we actually cycled by the Rhine a few times today! The oasis was a restaurant. We had large, cold drinks and they refilled our near empty water bottles.
After more desert cycling which included vineyards, weirdly, we found another oasis, this time a supermarket which sold both drinks and Snickers ice cream bars. We stayed hydrated. We attended to our ice cream levels. Our legs continued to function. Not far to go now.
We reached the point where we needed to detour to our campsite. The detour required us to cross the Rhine on an enormous bridge alongside a major highway. It was like the Dartford Crossing east of London. M1 had never seen so many lorries in a five minute period in his life. Luckily we were physically separated from the traffic in a narrow cycle path but it was still somewhat dreadful.
Having crossed the Rhine, we cycled towards an out of town retail park that had the feel of an industrial estate, presumably designed that way deliberately. Industrial Estate Chic. But, there was a supermarket. Provisions, including two large bottles of chilled orange juice were bought. We shared the first bottle of cold juice right there outside the supermarket.
The campsite was designed by someone who prefers the Campsite Aesthetic to all this industrial nonsense, happily. We've camped in a nice space which is for tents only. There are other cyclists and a friendly vibe. We're under a tree which is doing a great job providing shade. All's well.
Germany will have another chance to convince us it's a great cycling country tomorrow.
Update: the atmosphere changed in the evening. Campsite Guy's house is right next to the area for tents. It has a back garden with a pool. He has (at least) three teenage children. They spent hours shouting and playing music really loudly on an impressive, Glastonbury grade sound system. It was hard to have a conversation. It was hard to think. Another cyclist went over and politely asked them to be a bit quieter. He got abuse. M1 recognised a few of the words used! The other camper told us they'd called him names and basically told him to get lost. Lovely. The music went off for a while and then came back on. Then Campsite Guy, a rather large man, came over and had a go (in German) at the cyclist. It was aggressive and confrontational. The cyclist told us afterwards he'd been told that if he didn't like it, he should move somewhere else. What a charming family. The place has a large number of permanent caravans and a few new looking houses that have been built. Campsite Git is clearly raking it in and doesn't give a monkey's about a few cyclist campers. Avoid this campsite!
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