Abby arrives in Bratislava in just a few hours. In the meantime, I’m relaxing in the only open cafe here, Káva. Today’s a bank holiday and Slovakia is taking it very seriously, as they should.
I’m sitting here re-reading Letters to a Young Contrarian and Hitchens is urging me “travel as much as (I) can.” I am, I promise. The more I travel the farther I want to go. And with this thought, I took his advice and travelled across the street to a French-style bakery called Le Miam.
I stumbled into the best almond croissant I’ve ever tasted. The bakers at Le Miam are dedicated professionals, croissant craftsmen.
I finished Letters and my croissant then walked over to a bus station to wait for Abby, the wrong bus station as it turned out. On the way, I stopped to have some fun on a swingset. Pure enjoyment. What is it about whooshing back and forth and up and down that’s so fun?
I awoke at 6:48 am to the loud sound of a Serbian guy snoring in the bunk across from me. But it wasn’t until 9 am that I’d managed to pack up, eat the hostel breakfast, and start riding.
Today’s ride was pretty boring. The normal route was under maintenance so there was a large detour that took me on some busy roads past endless and uninspiring wheatfields. The highlight of the ride was meeting an Australian family that was on a day trip from Vienna to Bratislava. The dad and I rode together for 3km or so.
Ok, “uninspiring” might have been a little harsh
He told me how he’d spent four years straight traveling overland around the world. He saved up as a bartender (he even lived above the bar) in London for a year, then off he went for the next four to slow travel and work. He talked about being in Ireland for the end of The Troubles and having experienced other world events at a personal scale.
Returning to the humdrum of one place after four years on the move must have been quite the shock. I didn’t get to ask him about it though because he decided to hang back with his family – fair enough – and I zoomed onward toward city center to find a room.
A warning to riders who are sensitive to loud noises: the way into Bratislava is, mercifully, separate from cars but holy shit is it loud.
I was hungry as hell so I fired up my HappyCow app as soon as I made it into Bratislava. Lucky me, a spot with rave reviews called Vegan Kiosk was nearby. I had the Tempeh Burger. Yuhm. I ended up back there for dinner too and had the Classic Cheeseburger, and a slice of their sweet bread. Yuhuhm. This place gets 10/10 from me. I recommend their Tempeh Burger without reservation but I’d avoid the panini, it does not compare to the other items on the menu.
Between meals, I found a craft beer pub where I thought I’d sit down for a pint and search the internet for a room. €23 and a couple hours later I had made four Slovakian friends and drank a lot of really good Eastern European beer. One of the two couples were into cycling. The guy was a bike messenger and the woman a photographer. They suggested my next tour should be around the Baltic Sea. I’m in!
I rode with this couple for a few minutes toward my hostel then said goodbye. My first night in Bratislava was a success.
A street sign in Tulln signifying the beginning of two days full of the artist
When I stopped to throw away an empty bag yesterday I noticed a map. On it, I saw that the Egon Schiele Museum was nearby. This was great news! If I had to pick a favorite artist, Schiele’d be the one so I headed for the museum this morning.
It didn’t open until 10 am, so once I reached Tulln (Schiele’s birthplace) I stopped for some coffee and too many baked goods: one nut bread, one apple pastry, and one poppy seed roll to ensure that I’d feel sick.
I spent about two hours at the Schiele Museum. It’s a gem, a small space with one room full of 13 paintings by Schiele from between 1905 to 1907 when he was about 15 to 18 years old.
Please open this awesome gate so that I can run like an excited kid at Disney Land through this museum
The Schiele Museum is unique because its paintings aren’t in the style one imagines when one thinks of Schiele (assuming one thinks of him and his art at all)—no spindly limbs or tortured poses. All but one of the paintings look as though they could have been painted by someone else. A forest landscape in the gallery is the only piece in which there are any hints as to what his art would become.
After going upstairs through the secondary exhibition on Schiele’s life, which I highly recommend—they’ve filmed a bunch of interviews with experts on his life and art—I stopped at a riverside food shack outside of Vienna for a veg platter full of halloumi and grilled veggies plus some good beer. Today’s ride was easy going without hills, heat, and just a little rain.
The ride into Vienna is an urban cyclist’s dream. There are fully protected bike bridges and lanes that plopped me right into the city zentrum. From the center, I cycled onto the medieval ring road that’s been turned into a protected bike lane. I zipped around to the parks, monuments, and past the museums. It is the best way to see Vienna. While riding the ring road I tried to imagine how medieval Austrian’s would react to learning that the wall separating them from oblivion had been turned into a bike lane. I settled on, “Bike lane? Vut is a bike?”
I snagged a nice hostel in the Leopoldstadt neighborhood for 24eur. After unpacking my stuff I rode back out into the city for dinner at the Beaver Brewing Co. where I ordered a beer sampler and the seitan burger with seaweed salad and guac. An unexpectedly good combo.
After dinner, I crossed the street to Veganista. My favorite ice cream shop in Vienna. One scoop of cookies and cream in a waffle cone, please.
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better I found 15eur on the ground.
If you’re visiting Vienna and find yourself in the Leopoldstadt neighborhood then you simply have to take a walk around the Augarten park. Augarten is adjacent to an old porcelain factory. The grounds have what appear to be decaying water towers juxtaposed with meticulously manicured gardens. The lighting in Augarten during a summer evening is straight off of the Lion King VHS sleeve.
Dusk at Augarten
Tomorrow is a rest day in Vienna. I’m going to the Leopold Museum and I could not be more excited. A course I took spent a good deal of time discussing the Leopold collection and its implications on the recovery of Nazi loot. The Leopold houses the world’s largest collection of Schiele’s work too; so, there is lot’s to see and think about there. I can’t wait.
Portrait of Wally tells the engrossing story of Schiele’s painting by the same name, which was stolen by the Nazi’s, purchased by Professor Leopold, and the subject of a decades-long dispute
Today was by far the longest ride of the trip at around 115 miles.
I expected to stop in Melk but kept on until Zwentendorf. The campsite just outside of Linz sucked, avoid it if you can. A guy played loud hardcore German music until 11 pm. I’m tempted to say Rammstein then again that’s the only German hardcore rock ban that I know.
Le Shite Campsite
It stayed hot until 7 pm when the sky cracked wide open and let fall a storm from hell. I got lucky again and found a cyclist pub at just the right moment. I took refuge there for an hour and ordered a beer. I made friends with a very drunk and gregarious Austrian guy. We talked about Arnold Schwarzenegger, the guy’s distaste for Austria’s military police (three of whom were drinking a few feet from us), and he tried to help find me a place to stay, to no avail. No problem though, a sopping wet campsite was just a few km from the pub in Zwentendorf.
I should mention that today’s scorcher of a ride included a jaunt through the Wachau wine region. I stopped for a delicious glass of local Grüner. The towns in this region were at peak capacity with tourists fresh off their Danube river cruises clamoring to get in and out of tchotchke shops.
The views of the Wachau region were unique. Whereas in France the vineyards are atop sloping hills above the Loire, in Wachau the vines grow on the steep cliffs that drop straight down into the Danube.
Today is the day Abby arrives in Munich. I couldn’t sleep past 6:45 am. I took a nice and slow start to the day with coffee at the campsite. And today was one of the first days in which I awoke to a completely dry tent, yippee!
Paulaner Beer Garden Pitstop
The next few days will bring welcomed rest and time with Abby in Munich. We’re in the middle of a historic heatwave for continental Europe so this break could not have come at a better time.
Gluten tag
June 28-30 In Munich
Dinner at Bodhi is a great call
What a fun weekend. Abby and I met at the Flushing Meadows Hotel. Great spot in a fun neighborhood.
I can’t recommend Bodhi Vegan enough, especially if you want Bavarian specialties made vegan. I had spaetzle, schnitzel, and knödel. I think Abby went with a seitan burger.
Answer to the riddle: Describe a bike with three wheels that isn’t a tricycle
We spent the weekend eating at awesome restaurants, drinking German beer along the Isar, exploring the city, going to the Deutsche Museum, watching city-center surfing, taking a walking tour, and eating pretzels.
This leg between Passau, Germany, and Linz, Austria must be one of the best bicycle rides in the known universe. Its cool breezes, gentle downward slope, the s-curved turns of the Danube, bike lanes on either side of the river, and the Lord of the Rings-like views combine for a delightful — with an emphasis on delight — ride.
5 am morning mist on the Danube
I awoke at 5 am and excitedly packed up my gear. I get to see Abby soon! The forecast is 40ºC, which also motivated my early start. I was out of the campsite at 6:06 am.
I ran into the Green Riders again a few times today. They’re a group of cyclists I’ve mentioned in previous posts who stop to volunteer on organic farms along their route. I had to be terse because I really did not want to miss my train in Linz.
Mission accomplished! I made it onto the high-speed train, but the train overheated so we sat stalled in Salzburg in 40ºC weather without AC for over an hour. So much for high speed!
At least this delay won’t reduce my time with Abby. She arrives tomorrow.
Heading into an S-curve
As we sat in the train waiting for it to do its thing, a conductor came over the loudspeaker to say a few words in German. I looked around to gauge the locals’ responses. All I saw were heads shaking left and right. So I sarcastically asked the guy across from me, “Were they telling us that we’re delayed?”
“No,” he said with resolute Austrian sincerity, “they’re taking us to East Station instead of Central Station.”
‘No problem,’ I thought. That was until I looked up where my campsite was. It was a 45-minute bike ride from Ost Station. Shit.
The hills were alive, as they say, heading out of Austria toward Munich
Luckily, an Australian named Patrick stepped up and found a connecting train from Ost to Central. On our way to the transfer, we attempted to load our bikes into the elevator. No dice. The elevator was broken. At this point, I was having flashbacks to when I loaded my bike on my back and climbed that small mountain back in Germany. A nice Austrian guy saw my struggle and helped me lug The Green Machine up the stairs.
After the connecting train and a 15-minute bike ride, I arrived at an urban hostel campsite combo in Munich where I ate dinner, had a beer, and set up camp in anticipation of the fun weekend ahead.
Today is set to be a scorcher: 32ºC. So I got up early at 6 am and out at 7:36 am.
Natan and I crossed paths again after I took yet another wrong turn. We rode together for 60km and stopped for lunch at a Greek restaurant along the way after a couple of closed biergartens disappointed us.
ZINC ZINC ZINC!
The campsite in Passau is on the river and is simply stunning.
I’m excited for tomorrow. I’ll ride out of Germany and into Austria for the first time. But more importantly, I’ll take the train from Linz to Munich where I’ll see Abby for the first time in over a month!
If you don’t hear from me in a couple days send help. I’ll be in a diabetic coma!
I packed up camp this morning and had a cup of coffee with Simon and Camilla. Then I was off on my own at 8:30 am. The forecast is set for the high 20s so I wanted to beat the heat.
I met a couple from Belgium today. The gentleman, Jens, flagged me down and asked if he could take a picture of me in my ridiculous looking sun gear. This is the first time anyone has done anything other than chuckle at all my sun sleeves. Turns out Jens is a skin cancer survivor and infectious disease researcher who spent his career trying (and largely succeeding) to cure HIV/AIDS. We talked touring bikes, climate, and sun protection gear for a bit then they zoomed off on their kitted out Dutch electric Santos bicycles, which were all I managed to capture from our meeting.
Note the Pinion gearbox with Gates carbon drive
I reached Regensberg where I had planned to stay the night. But it was only 2 pm and the town seemed like more of a tourist stop with prices to match than it did a must-stay destination. So I pedaled on after a quick ride through the town’s medieval bridge and streets.
From Regensberg to Straubing was a challenging ride due to its long straight unshaded dirt roads in the summer heat. But keep going for there is a reward on the horizon.
You’ll eventually reach Walhalla, Germany’s hall of fame. It’s perched high on a hill and well worth leaving your bike behind to go explore. In addition to being an imposing building reminiscent of, if not identical to, the US Supreme Court, its views out into Bavaria are unparalleled anywhere else along the EuroVelo 6.
By the time I reached camp it was 7 pm and I was dehydrated. So I did what any red-blooded touring cyclist would do and ordered a big cold German beer, dehydration be damned.
The campsite attendant responded with a stern “Nein” when I (politely might I add) asked if he spoke English. It wasn’t five minutes later that I heard him having a pleasant conversation in good English with another camper.
This attendant took my food order: “Vegetarier, danka.” My order manifested as a massive tuna fish salad so that’s what I ate, plus an order of fries after my stomach told me the salad wasn’t enough for us.
Then as I ordered my second beer, a Dunkel Weiss, who but Miguel showed up! Soon after, Natan the Swiss showed up too.
Then it was off to the mosquito-infested zeltplatz to set up camp and to sleep.
As I laid in my tent thinking about today’s journey, I was struck by how the people I’d met on this trip—people like Maac, Miguel, Natan, Bharti, Simon, Camila, the others— and I had all hatched our plans independently and yet they conspired to bring us together, sometimes for days at a time, and to take us from strangers to friends.
Off to Ingolstadt — the home of Frankenstein and the signing place of the Reinheitsgebot (Germany’s beer purity law)!
But first, I had to take a hard look at my bicycle. For about the past week I’ve cursed my bike’s little wheels, my legs’ weakness, and the headwinds. This morning after too many cups of coffee it occurred to me that each of these wasn’t really the problem. Instead, I examined my drivetrain. It was filthy. After a week of riding in the mud and rain without fenders, all manner of twigs, mud, and pebbles had lodged themselves in my chain, cogs, and front cassette. Thanks to a sacrificial hotel towel, a 15-minute cleaning session, and a fresh coat of chain grease things went from feeling like I was slogging through mud (which in a way I was) to feeling like I’m riding a motorcycle.
This early afternoon tested me. Confusing signage and construction led me down the wrong way. It was my own stubbornness though that led me to tear a hole in my bib shorts.
What I thought was the correct route spit me out onto a construction zone. The bike path had been torn up so that a new path up along the river could be built. The new path was 20 or so feet up a steep mound of loose rubble and dirt but the path itself appeared rideable if only I could reach it.
Instead of turning around and finding the proper detour I decided the best idea would be to try and roll my fully loaded bike up the steep hill.
No dice.
‘No problem,’ I thought, ‘I’ll just heave my fully loaded steel bicycle up on my back and climb this mountain of loose dirt and rocks.’ Two-thirds of the way up this round mound of loose ground I lost my footing and slipped. Again, instead of stopping and looking for the detour I dug in. I heaved the bike up on my back once more and pushed to the top of the hill.
Mistake.
At the summit, I quickly saw that the new path was blocked off ahead and I’d need to make my way down the hill that I’d just climbed. I realized at this point that my seat post was attached to my bib shorts by way of a nice little hole courtesy of a screw on my lock holster. Such is life.
I was pissed at the world, the EU road maintenance crews, and the route itself. So pissed, in fact, that I neglected to document any of this episode with my camera. But I’ve accepted that my own stubborn reaction, despite being good-spirited—why not climb the mud mountain? It is an accomplishment of a sort—, was the real cause of my anger…and the new hole in my pants.
Now I’ve stopped for lunch — and a beer — in Neuberg.
German apple pie and a hefeweizen are perfect anti-inflammatories for a bruised ego.
After lunch, I met a couple from Poland named Simon and Camilla. We rode together for the rest of the day. Simon is in Ingolstadt frequently for his work with Audi, which is headquartered there so he suggested that we stop at a great ice cream spot in town. I had a scoop of malaga. That’s rum, sweet wine, and raisins.
Then we set our sites on a campsite 30km outside Ingolstadt in Neustadt an der Donau. On the way, we met a French-speaking Swiss named Natan who joined us for the rest of the ride.
Unclear whether Natan is smiling here
Once at the camp (which is nice but costs 13eur!) and after a miscommunication with Simon I ventured into town for dinner. He thought I was going to wait for them to shower and I thought he was telling me not to wait. Oops.
I ordered the goulash, vegetarian strudel, and a kraut salad.
Other than the rip in my bib shorts, today was the perfect ride.
I ain’t no meteorologist but there’s a storm in them there hills!
I packed up and left camp by 7:30 am to beat this afternoon’s thunderstorm. And I would have got away with it too if it wasn’t for those meddling tempeh wraps!
Feeling quite cocky, I thought I had time to break for lunch
A biblical rain crashed down when I was just 15 minutes from my destination. As the storm clouds rolled in they brought ear-splitting thunder and lightning close enough to spark concern. I crossed under an overpass by sheer luck just as the storm started. Another cyclist and I took refuge there for about 20 minutes until the storm passed.
I was riding hard to reach my destination before the next storm clouds could catch up to me. But who did I run into in Donauwörth? None other than my friend Miguel! I gave him a ribbing over his claim the night before that he would blow past Donauwörth today then I headed straight for my dry room after we said our goodbyes.
It feels great to take a day off from camping and to have a dry place where I don’t have to worry about lightning strikes.
If this is Weissbier Hell then I don’t want to go to Heaven
Oh, and anyone who says France has the best-baked goods hasn’t been to Bavaria.
