#55 The German Danube

The Donauradweg, the German section of the Danube cycle path, lives up to all the hype.  It really is an easy, relaxing and at times beautiful but always interesting route with all the infrastructure needed for stress-free cycle touring.  It is especially suitable for eBike touring.

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Saturday 27 April 2019.  Donauwörth · Regensburg |174 km|

The Dutch father and son pair at the Kanu Klub campground told me their weather app was predicting more rain from the west by midday tomorrow, but that we would probably outrun it heading east down the Danube.  I didn’t need much more encouragement than that to get me out of bed early in the morning, and I shoved off around 7.30.

And outrun the rain I did too, all the way to Regensburg, where it started spitting just as I arrived.  But as for the Donauradweg (Danube Cycleway) itself – it hardly exists as a coherent long-distance entity in this section of the Danube, and Ziggy gave me nothing but bother trying to figure it all out.

Neuberg am der Donau, a pretty town:

Onto the Danube levee banks for part of the way (and harder to get lost!):

Anything to catch the tourist dollar – crazy little towns:

And so into Regensburg.  The weekend’s May-day festivities and the rain both began as I rolled into the centre of town. But I did enjoy a massive jug of beer standing out of the rain under one of the beer tents listening to the oom-pa-pa music.  I checked out (ie. tried to get into) several hotels, before being made to feel lucky indeed to be able to secure a room in the Orphée Hotel – perhaps I was.

Well not actually in the Orphée, mind, but in their offshoot ‘Little Orphée’ around the corner.  A quaint olde worlde building with a lot of  period character (turn of the century, I’m guessing, but don’t ask me which one – 18th?) – and a 3rd-floor walk-up to my room in the attic = 3 trips, with my luggage.  Don’t get much for €77 sometimes, huh? (except breakfast thrown in).  “My” loo and shower were separate shared units just down the corridor, but I never did see or hear any other guests on my level.

Dinner was an enjoyable occasion at a tapas bar attached to the main Orphée (attached physically, I don’t know about their business arrangements, as the Orphée has a thriving up-market restaurant of its own, even though the establishment itself, judging by the state of the décor as much as the clientele, is a bit run-down).  I loved it!

Sunday 28 April 2019.  Regensburg · Winzer |127 km|

It was still very cold when I finally found my way out of Regensburg at 10 am.  Ziggy had a brain-snap and just completely packed it in.  To be fair, maybe he just couldn’t find a satellite.  Using my superior intellect, however, I made my way to the main railway station by following the signs for it, realizing that the main bike paths are always sign-posted from the station – which it was indeed, all the way back the 3 km I’d just come from the Dom Platz (Cathedral  Square).  But even then my navigational troubles hadn’t ended, and I cycled 10km to gain 2 km on my intended route by the time I’d gotten back onto the DonauRadweg proper.

I did find a map shop, right next to my hotel in fact.  Pity it was Sunday and closed.  And apparently owned by a relative of mine as well!  Small world!

The journey started to get very pleasant, scenery-wise.  Almost what I’d imagined.

The camp at Winzer that Ziggy directed me to was a bit peculiar – more of a sports and recreation centre, and I got to enjoy watching a good game of football as I was setting up the tent.  No one around in authority (and distinctly stand-offish fellow campers).  I tried the after-hours number but no one answered, got myself a beer from the ubiquitous drinks machine, and set up on a likely-looking site.  A pleasant lady did come around later to take my money and check me in, which system I pleasingly found to be almost Australian in its methodology.

Monday 29 April 2019.  Winzer · Linz |144 km|

Coming out of Passau:

I was just pondering to myself <why?> at the “Radfahre Absteigen” (Cyclists Dismount”) sign when I hit the little kink (protrusion) in the bike bridge the sign was trying to warn me about.  Took me a few moments to straighten out the front pannier rack, but otherwise all ok.

But then, just a kilometre the other side of Passau, not so lucky.  I distracted myself worrying whether the rear-rack cargo was coming adrift, and while I was doing that the front pannier glanced off the guard rail, and….boomp!…. over I went – bruised and swollen left thigh and sore ribs!  The two Italian cyclists who came along seemed quite relieved not to have to get too involved by getting blood on their hands or calling for an ambulance, but they picked me up and on I went after straightening out the bike, but feeling more sorry for myself the further I went.

Crossed the river a couple of times, on cute little ferries.  I was prepared for this by reading Steven Horrick’s “bratwurst and bicycles” as he had a similar experience with confusing signage at this point, that certainly seems to indicate the correct route remains on the left bank, and one doesn’t need to take the ferry across. A young Polish cycling couple I’d encountered earlier were using their smart phone as route guidance and were equally adamant the correct route lay ahead, but we (the genial ferryman and I) finally persuaded them to come across with us.  The polish guy whispered to me that he thought it was all just a scam to relieve us of the €2.50 fare per head.

The cycling and the scenery are both most definitely worthwhile now.

I crossed back over to the left bank one more time at Aschbach Markt.  This time, it was a more substantial car ferry that went sideways and seemed to be making heavy going of it against the river current.  The grizzled old deck-hand was quite a card too, in the way he played up to the customers as he nonchalantly went about his business.

Back the road a-ways somewhere before Aschbach I had already crossed the unheralded national border between Germany and Austria.  At least I never noticed one.

It was already getting late but I kept on going on to Linz, because none of the places I tried for accommodation along the way even answered the door.  I did, however, stop at a pharmacy and got some over-the-counter pain relief (Aleve), hoping they’d actually take pity on me and bend the rules a little to give me something stronger, or maybe even have a doctor in attendance who could prescribe something.

By the time I did get in to Linz I was having trouble getting on and off the bike, and generally feeling a bit sick and sorry for myself.   So it’s probably just as well that the campground I checked out on the far side of the city towards Mauthausen wasn’t even open for the summer yet, and that I therefore had to backtrack a kilometer to a sign for “Sommer Haus” that professed to be a cyclist-friendly hotel.

Sommer Hous turns out to be a massive 840-room students’ hostel for the Johannes Kepler University of Linz.  Their veneer of professionalism disappeared when they gave me a stolen shopping trolley to take my gear up to my room on the 3rd floor, but the tariff was OK and the hospital-style cafeteria cheap enough, so I settled in to let the pain work out of my body.

My left thigh looked pretty bad – all bruised and so swollen I couldn’t pull on my normal trousers over it – but it didn’t hurt much and was perfectly OK for riding after 2 days rest at Sommer Haus.   The photos are too horrible to show you.

However my lower left rib cage was the problem – very sore, and preventing me from getting back on the bike (or even bending over to Velcro my shoes).  So I went to see a doctor: he diagnosed a couple of fractured ribs and prescribed a ‘rippengurt’ (rib belt) and Tramadol pain killer drops to get me moving again.  That all seemed to work, and now I’m ready for the road again and raring to go again!

– ends –

#55 Europe 2019  Donauwörth to Linz.  449 km

2019 Europe so far:  Maastricht to Linz |1.200 km|