70km
Today there is a mountain range inbetween us and Zell am See. Phillipa learns whilst browsing the coach tour pamphlets over breakfast that this range hosts "The Eagles Nest" aka Hitlers Alpine retreat. The tour leaflets wax lyrical over it's beautiful views and that many of their guests make return journeys, we decide it's not worth a detour and get on the road with intentions to nip back through into Germany before hitting the Zell.
Some 40minutes winding around the Salzburg streets precipitates the desicion that following the river out of Salzburg might be 15km longer but would be much quicker. So about turn and with little effort we're soaring along against the stream up the river path. Now in the Alps we are spoilt with serene clear turquoise rivers and lakes, the Thames must be quite a shock for them...
Thermos Coffee and cake stop at a lake. Comments of shoddy bike route map accurate map depiction with our feet dangling into the lake 90degrees off where diagramatically they should be.
Wheels turn, the Eagles nest soars into the sky and clouds somewhere to our right, no doubt with avid cooing coach tourists at it's peak. My bike has started to make a clinging noise. It's regular and persistant, and not my speedo. Unperturbed we continue. Over our first alpine pass, at Lueg. Through the tunnel the clinging amplifies so we pull over to examine once on the other side....
One of my back wheel spokes is broken, with several of it's neighbours loose and of course the wheel gets heartily stuck on the brake at this point. Carrying no spare spokes we tighten up the loose ones, surgical tape the ill spoke up. Lighten my heavy rear loaden panniers and limp 20km up and down the road to the nearest town where Phil makes friends with the tourist information girls, Ali buys some new shorts, as I stay with the bikes. Then we nip down the road where all the bikes are booked in for a full service (much arm gesticulation in a charades "the whole thing" manner). Our message succesfully conveyed we retreat to our Alpine Pension hosted by a lovely elderly Austrian couple. Limited common language skills. Phillipa is ecstatic with the room's hot plate and cooking utensil provisions and whips up a pasta dream. The little old lady during Colby Citchen anxiously knocks on our door exclaiming "fahrrad!". Reassured with a spanner and screw driver action that they were being fixed and had not been stolen from their garage she breaths a great sigh of relief.
Colby's in bed before 9pm, jubilation.
Today there is a mountain range inbetween us and Zell am See. Phillipa learns whilst browsing the coach tour pamphlets over breakfast that this range hosts "The Eagles Nest" aka Hitlers Alpine retreat. The tour leaflets wax lyrical over it's beautiful views and that many of their guests make return journeys, we decide it's not worth a detour and get on the road with intentions to nip back through into Germany before hitting the Zell.
Some 40minutes winding around the Salzburg streets precipitates the desicion that following the river out of Salzburg might be 15km longer but would be much quicker. So about turn and with little effort we're soaring along against the stream up the river path. Now in the Alps we are spoilt with serene clear turquoise rivers and lakes, the Thames must be quite a shock for them...
Thermos Coffee and cake stop at a lake. Comments of shoddy bike route map accurate map depiction with our feet dangling into the lake 90degrees off where diagramatically they should be.Wheels turn, the Eagles nest soars into the sky and clouds somewhere to our right, no doubt with avid cooing coach tourists at it's peak. My bike has started to make a clinging noise. It's regular and persistant, and not my speedo. Unperturbed we continue. Over our first alpine pass, at Lueg. Through the tunnel the clinging amplifies so we pull over to examine once on the other side....
One of my back wheel spokes is broken, with several of it's neighbours loose and of course the wheel gets heartily stuck on the brake at this point. Carrying no spare spokes we tighten up the loose ones, surgical tape the ill spoke up. Lighten my heavy rear loaden panniers and limp 20km up and down the road to the nearest town where Phil makes friends with the tourist information girls, Ali buys some new shorts, as I stay with the bikes. Then we nip down the road where all the bikes are booked in for a full service (much arm gesticulation in a charades "the whole thing" manner). Our message succesfully conveyed we retreat to our Alpine Pension hosted by a lovely elderly Austrian couple. Limited common language skills. Phillipa is ecstatic with the room's hot plate and cooking utensil provisions and whips up a pasta dream. The little old lady during Colby Citchen anxiously knocks on our door exclaiming "fahrrad!". Reassured with a spanner and screw driver action that they were being fixed and had not been stolen from their garage she breaths a great sigh of relief.
Colby's in bed before 9pm, jubilation. 
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