Day 49, Wednesday, Tabor to Ceske Budejovice...Phil

After ignoring the alarm for yet another lie-in, I roll out of bed for a quick blog before loading up the bikes and heading off for breakfast. Our ever-helpful hostess, Olga, watches with fascination as we load the boys up, offering tips on cycle routes out of town, breakfast locations and weather. Following her advice, we head across the road to Recycle cafe where we have a "superb" (Alice) cooked breakfast. No luck at the local bike shop with regard to new pannier racks, we head on out of town....


The hills continue, and we,re feeling the cold at altitude. Its the potholes that are doing my head in today. As we bounce along the uneven tarmac that paves most of the roads today, I cannot help glancing down expectantly at my front pannier racks, anxiously awaiting the crack that will see me sprawled in the middle of the laneway with a buckled wheel and innumerable bruises. Luckily, its not to be and my panniers survive yet another day. The bouncing is also making me thankful I chose my more supportive sports bra, and Im sure Hazel must be glad she,s opted away from the single layer cotton, strapless bandeaux (previously purchased for sunbathing purposes but not seeing much use recently) which she was wearing a couple of days ago...


The wind is also gusting again, and Ali and I fall behind Hazel who seems to not be affected.... "I just don,t think about it".... I try not too, but am not very successful at keeping up... We stop for coffee in a bus stop, where there is enough room for us, and the bikes!!! Ali announces her new favourite sandwich is poppy seed roll, with banana, sultanas, cranberries and salty peanuts, with a Mister Choc for desert.


We carry on, and it feels like a long day when we finally roll in to Ceske Budejovice. We stop at a strange touist information in the square, which is more of a map shop - not a bad thing, as we really have no idea where we§re going once we cross the border into Austria. I§m left on my own in the shop, and walk out with a map of northern Austria to Linz and instructions on how to get to a local pensione. We head out of the main square, but find ourselves standing at what appears to be a decrepit apartment building with no signage to differentiate it from any other local residence. I check and re-check the details given by the tourist info girl, but the look on Hazel§s face says it all..... we return to the square, and after refusing to pay exorbitant prices, find ourselves at the lovely Hotel Klika, with a little apartment complete with mezzanine floor, much to Hazel§s delight! A delicious 3 course meal for less than 30pounds, bikes are undercover behind locked gate (although to Ali§s consternation the gate tends to open and close at will), there are warm tiles in the bathroom and a radiator to dry clothes on. Happy little campers, we§re all tucked up by 9pm....

Tuesday 7th September- Day48- Týnec nad Sázavou to Tábor... Hazel

70km in 47hr11
Averaging 17.4kmph, max 54.2
Odometer 3964.2km

Each morning Alice's alarm sounds numerous times desperite for attention from it's sleeping owner. Colby responses to it's beckoning cry and is up shuffling around and repacking. Alice is oblivious, I am caught between slumbers and eyes blinking against the light.... It's now seven o'clock Alice's still feeling groggy so we elect to sleep another half hour whilst Phillipa repacks again.

Now awake we have the delight of Colby Bircher Museli to start our day with some freshly brewed tea a la the camping stove. We then hit the road and roll over the street to Lidl. There we purchase our Crivit Sports Track Pump. A snip at 159ck. Alice is thrilled, but again has to be prised away from the selection of Lidl cycling fashions. We spend sometime in the cheese aisle before choosing some imitation laughing cow to go with our selection of rolls.

So out of town and sure enough we hit the hills again. It is bright sunshine, with gusting cold gales and freezing cold shaded areas. Hills are climbed, feet a whir. At the top and I'm feeling overheated and queasy. When Alice later arrives and declares she feels sick I then promptly vomit over my shoes. The Bircher is sitting making an acidic pulp in my stomach and cycling up hills quickly is not helping. We decide that Bircher is too complex a dish for my delicate tummy to start the day with.

On we go enjoying the misty panoramas with the occasional vomit at summits. Ceska Republicka is quite a densely populated rural affair with villages at every turn through the hills and mountains. Every home is a dog owner and we are treated to a chorus of yaps and barks as we pass by. Since leaving Scandinavia the hairy caterpillars that would crawl out over the tarmac have been replaced with slugs in Germany, and fallen fruit in Czech. I imagine I have better awareness of the tarmac dwellers compared to the others due to my greater affection for road over bike path and that my bike's set up has me in a bent over racing postion. Whereas the girls saddles sit inline with their handlebars for upright touring my saddle sits proud causing me to reach down. But I'm digressing from the days events....

Lunch/ first roll stop is in a field with a lovely view and windy draught. The next stop thirty km later is in a mountain town sat in the town square. No one is aware of the cold as the children play in cardigans (fencing with twigs boys v. girl) and an old lady joins us on our bench wearing a jumper no coat.
We are enjoying our sandwiches and thermos coffee, and she strikes up Czech conversation with Alice next to her. Alice responds in with over enuciated English small talk. "Yes, it is cold here isn't it", "I'm enjoying my lunch yes", "I've come here by bicycle". The old lady asks her same question no more. She is smiling so everyone's happy. She declines Alice's offer of a biscuit.

We have recently been enjoying Dopplekeks. Which consist of two rich tea biscuits glued firmly together with chocolate (38% chocolate).

So some more hills and then we reach the historical and religious town of Tabor. The twon square is all of a flurry in preperation for the weekend's Medieval festival. Luckily we secure a Pension just off the town square as no one's arrived yet. Tabor was named after mount tabor where the transfiguration is supposed to have occured. The Hussites in the 15th centuary hoped that if they named their town after important religious places it would be Christ's obvious choice for a second coming.

We have an Indian for dinner- most excellant. Then bathtime and bed.

Monday 6th September - Day 47 - Praha - Týnec nad Sázavou Alice

50km in 2hr 54
Odometer 3893km

Awake in the eaves of the Cerna Liska and find I am becoming the type of person who attempts to clean a hotel room before departing it, lest the hotel staff think us slovenly. Of course, having attempted to clean around our mud caked pannier bags and stinking shoes for the past two days, their opinion of us must already be so low that my efforts will be quite in vain. Despite our weekend mini-break I'm feeling worse than ever, not helped perhaps by my attempts to de-carb over the weekend, eating a variety of various animal offal cloaked as 'traditional Czech specialities' and none of my usual shedload of bread. How the Czech must laugh as we Anglickys gamely struggle through our lung fricasse, whilst they enjoy their steak and chips. As we check out of the hotel, we ask to leave our bags in reception whilst we fetch our bikes from their parking spot. Obviously not wanting to have her lovely waiting area despoiled by our filthy tramp baggage, she tells us to put them behind her desk. She opens the door and we begin the mass loading of 12 pannier bags, tent, bottle, ice box, thermos and various other sundries into her office. She sits back down in her swivel chair, surrounded by Ortlieb, completely unable to move in any direction.  There's pure fear in her eyes as she asks, 'Will you be back soon?".
Fortunately for her we are, and the loading of the donkeys begins during morning coffee rush hour in Praha's old town square.

I feel myself well prepared for exit as I the day before had proudly presented the others with a cycle atlas of Ceska Republika I managed to source, like a cat bringing home a live mouse for everyone to enjoy. Nobody was as excited as I, but still, I was pleased as punch. Unfortunately the atlas does not really provide a detailed map of Praha, so all we know is that we must find a bicycle route heading east out of the city. We do indeed find ourselves on a bicycle lane heading east, thus assume it must be the correct one. Its sort of like cycling in London, in that there is bicycle symbol painted on the road which is ignored by all vehicles who wish to park upon it or pull out straight in front of you from a side road.  Just like home, the route then promptly ends at a junction. Who knows where the cyclist is expected to go from here, perhaps catch a train? Or abandon bicycle and get back in ones car perhaps. Anyway, we mount a pavement and attempt to move toward the area we think we should be heading in. Of course being the endless suburbs, there is no clear delineation between townships or indeed signage of any kind. The pavement has helpfully been dug into deep trenches at various sections, so its hopping on and off for a good 5km. We re consult map and decide we should find a suburban lake which is marked on our map as being the location of desired bicycle path. Of course, this being the Praha equivalent of Tooting, we can't really see any lakes. We debate for a further 15 minutes on the roadside, much to the amusement of some local policemen who are idly sitting in their patrol vehicle nearby. Idle is perhaps unfair of me, they were near McDonalds so were probably waiting for the Breakfast Menu to change to Lunch, and get their Big Macs. We head towards some greenery and water and proceed to follow it backwards toward the city, in order to find our path. Eventually, and after a thermos break, we do find it. His chirpy yellow signage leads us into a forest of some sorts, and we assume we have left Praha. There's some sort of team building adventure park with High Wires, and we find our path blocked by a school trip who refuse to budge off the path despite repeated bell ringing. Shortly after, our bike path promptly disappears. Signage perhaps stolen by the rude teenagers! We see many other bike path signs but not ours. We head on in an easterly direction, and soon enough, find ourselves back in another bloody suburb. We consult handily placed local map and find we are too far east from our required exit suburb. We however, have no idea how to get to our required location. So we backtrack once more, past some more surly teenagers, and follow the other bicycle route, still looking for this elusive lake. It appears massive on the map, and perhaps exists, but behind fences and wild grass commons as high as my shoulder. We follow the bike path for a number of kilometres and end up a few yards down from where we started. Its our worst nightmare, not being able to escape the city! We knew it would happen sooner or later but we are 3 hours into our day and have travelled less than 15km. We are getting a little frustrated and so opt for our last lifeline, IPHONE google maps. It probably cost as much as a city map but we are instantly informed of where we are and can plan our own route to our village of Pruhonice where we find cheeky little yellow signs popping up again. Joy of joys we scoot along happily enjoying the mild microclimate of Praha and its lowlands.

From the lowlands we begin to climb, and its quite a shock to the system. Steep hills through crumbling villages start to take their toll on weary bodies and we are relieved for a lunch break by the lake.

 

When the sun disappears behind the clouds we realise how very very cold it is, and out come the windproofs. Togged up, we continue and are treated to a well deserved descent. Long and winding down we drift, barely moving our legs, but flying like swallows in a lovely swooping formation. We fall through forests of every type of tree, sunlight breaking through in spots on the road, and suddenly we are back by our old friend the river, winding where he winds, letting him cut us a path through the mountains. It's at this point that I realise, Ceska Republika is the most beatiful country on the tour so far, its far more mountainous than I imagined, and lush and green. There's beautiful old villages every few km and the cities seem completely untouched by the ravages and excesses of the twentieth century which have altered so the other countries. The air in the Czech Republic genuinely smells like wood smoke and fallen apples. It would be sentimental tosh if it were'nt true.

After a water stop at a petrol station I realise I'm actually not feeling that well. A little sick and achey, I'm suspecting a bit of a virus. Dr Learner confirms the glands are a little up and we decide to stop for the day and rest. Only 50km covered unfortunately but the ordeal of navigating through the teenagers out of Prague have left us drained. Fortunately we are in a lovely little Czech town complete both with River, Castle and Lidl. Winner. We secure a room in a Boathouse, where for 20 pounds for all three of us we can have a room with balcony and river view and bring our bikes inside. I rest whilst Learner and Colby go and enjoy themselves in Lidl. We enjoy a camp stove pasta dinner and sleep soundly, for a great number of hours.

Sunday 5th September - Day 46 - Rest in Praha

Saturday 4th September - Day 45 - Rest in Praha

Day 44, Friday, Usti to Praha....Phil

130km covered


I awake exhausted at 6am, ready for an early start as we have a few kms to cover today. However, my body seems not to respond to efforts to become alert and I stumble downstairs after the girls towards to breakfast room. The constant exercise seems to have finally caught up with me and todazy is going to be a struggle...or perhaps my poor sleep for the past few nights could be contributed to excessive caffeine intake....in my current state, it doesn't seem wise to start the detox today! Alas, it seems in Czech they don't actually expect you to arrive for breakfast at 6am, so we sip our coffee and wait for the nice little boy to set things up. Much like Germany, we fill our pockets with condiments, somehow fill the thermos from the urn and head off.
We are warned off drinking the water by a little man in the garage, as we attempt to fill our bottles in the toilet downstairs. Not sure why, as we drank it in the hotel upstairs, we heed his warning and set off to find stocks for the day. Our attempt to find a bakery is slowed by vacant spaces complete with signage which have yet to be filled with ovens or any sort of baked goods, yet somehow I manage to lead Ali to a supermarket in the back streets where we stock up for the day. Amazed at how cheap everything is in Billa, there is an awkward moment where we forget to put a sticker on the apples...Ali nicks back, whilst I have an uncomfortable staring contest with the checkout lady. Back to the bikes, we find ourselves walking out of town, once again caught in a maze of roadworks.
On to the river path once more, we are following signs for the national route R2, which allows Alice to once again demonstrate her sandwich lady skills, with a few flights of stairs... We later find out that this does't conincide with the Elberadweg map we are following, much to the frustration of Hazel as Ali (aka Sensible Susan) sticks firmly to the mapped route. The Germans clearly need to improve their maps/do better research/signpost the route if they want to take detours from the signposted Czech route!!

Mr Thermos is getting a good outing today, no indoor stops to be had today (with plenty of woodlands for toilet stops!). The sun is shining intermittently, and when it does, its hot! the girls are down to singlets (vest tops for the poms), whilst a trail along behind them in my long sleeve merino in a sleep-deprived haze. To deviate slightly from the day and not resort to extensive footnotes, the properties of merino cannot be more highly vouched for then by our little cyling team. Suitable in hot or cold weather, wicking sweat away and maintaining core temperature - plus it takes weeks of wear to make them smell! (ok, so they often have a bit of "wet sheep" about them but nothing to write home about). Anway, thanks PBR for telling me to buy one, its been very well worn, and Bridge, you should invest! ;)
We attempt to follow the path through a field, but after travelling at 5kmph for a few kms we relent and return to the road. We have learnt a new word in Czech, and with the current obstacles being presented "Pozor!" is being shouted at every turn and pothole. With current stops for map consultations, I'm hanging out for the next break. We get lost trzing to find a river crossing, but Ali soon locates our position, only to take us up what we later realise is probably the steepest hill in town in order to join up with the path again. I'm struggling big time at this point, and the hilarity of reaching the panoramic view point is lost on me. However, its now only 50km to Praha, and temporarily revived by choclate, we plod on, albeit with some strange roadside views.
I'm flaking quickly though, and another rest is called for some 25km later. Buoyed once more with coffee, chocolate, coke and the staple bread roll, we head on past a beautiful old church/castle (never really sure which), following the river, up and down hills towards the big city. On road, off road... sudden stop called when Hazel's front pannier rack snaps. Luckily no wheel involved and redistribute luggage, and continue on our way, Hazel hoping there'll be no more up-hill climbs as the lack of weight on the front makes the bike somewhat unstable!! We are now totally aware as to why all the lycra clad cyclists are on mountain bikes, as we face yet another stretch of the dreaded cobblestones and ease our way forward. Hitting the tarmac once more, we are surprised to find ourselves dodging lycra clad rollerbladers, outnumbering cyclists 2 to 1, darting about like speed skaters...


Removed from my usual inner city leading, Ali navigates into the city centre, through lovely parks and a few busy intersections. We find ourselves finally in Stare Mestre, its close to 7pm and we're not sure where to put ourselves! Walking through the city with bikes, we find ourselves in the old town square where, after a couple of unsuccessful attempts we find a room at the lovely Hotel Cerna Liska. We have a little apartment to ourselves, in the eaves on the fourth floor. I'm ecstatic to realise that we have a kettle in the room!!! We take our bikes across to the sister hotel in the next square after the sweet little receptionist expresses concern at our leaving them locked in the square, and after quick showers, a beer from the minibar (much to the girls' delight!) we head to a little Staropramen pub down the road, where they are happy to serve us dinner at 10pm accompanied bzy 80p pints...2 beers later and I'm more than ready for bed...sweet dreams tonight in beautiful Prague!

Day 43 Riesa, Germany to Usti Nad Labem, Ceska Republika... Hazel

Thursday 2nd of September
145km in 6hr 38min
Average 21.9kmph
Max 41,2
Odometer 3716km


After Alice's exercise in concise blogging* this entry shall seem quite verbose....

Morning rises in the Boothaus a little cold and damp. Alice shivers in bed whilst Colby Citchen Culinates** breakfast with my assistance. We enjoy our porridge then shake a leg down to the bikes who have been flirting with the canoes in their shed.
The first twenty km is spent travelling through the misty morning, cycling in right angles around the flat fields lining the Elbe***. The river is wide and flat and flowing fast to the north****. Soon enough, our flat fields fade away as steep sandy cliffs errupt from the river banks and we find ourselves winding up and downhills.
We roll into civilisation and Lo! the golden arches that frame Alice's European journey. She insists on stopping and Phil and I cannot muster up the argument to desist. So in we go, it's still the breakfast menu. Alice and I have a muffin with meat item and pretend set egg. Phillipa has some flat cake pancake things with McDo Honey-Maple. Unsuprisingly these fatty small mouthfuls do nothing to vanquish the hunger rumbling in our bellies so it's round the corner to Lidl and it's bakery.
Phillipa and I wait patiently outside wondering what Alice could be doing in there for so long... It transpires she has been contemplating the Lidl cycling commuter trousers***** which she returned to thrice, fingering the fabric with deliberation. She chooses not to buy.
We follow the bank as it winds into Dresden, which I'm sorry not to stop in as it appears to be Germany's nicest. Nevermind, we have lunch at the edge of the city beach****** and watch the cycle tourists whom we'd just overtaken pass us by.*******
After dinner we find ourselves off ElbeRadweg********'s recommended route and instead we find ourselves on the north bank "scooting" over 2km of very bumpy/jagged cobbles. Thankfully a crossing isn't too far away and we are back on the main route tussling to get past a series of elderly german men out for a day's cycle. They number many and their response to our bellringing is to slowly overtake the gentleman in front of them. When they realise a trio of young female cyclists are overtaking they make a selection of coos and whistles which Alice relishes and Phillipa scorns.
Out of Dresden and fast approching the border, the cliffs are higher with castles perched on their peaks with adjoing stone bridge arches spanning the gaps. We are following the railway and at the crossing point are faced with a pedestrian detour for road works. This involves walking into the station and crossing to the other platform via the stairs.
Alice simply picks her bike (still fully loaded)********* and trots down then up. Phillipa competently rolls her down the stairs and then pushes it up the other side. I on the other hand intially hoover nervously looking down over the void before half pushing/ being dragged by my bike down. At the bottom I again hesitate. An attempt to pick up my bike is miserable failure********** clearly my guns are all for show. Thankfully a chivalrous road worker comes to my aid and happily picks up my bike as if were no more than a light carbon number and whisks it up the stairs.
We roll down the street and await at the level crossing for the train to pass. It's a half barrier and they are down with lights on. Alice suggests that as we know there are road works further down we could just cross. This is met with staunch rebuke when we remind her the line's been busy all day, as she has commented at tea break earlier. So we wait and the train goes by, the barriers raise and we cross.
Approximately ten km down the road we again come to a level crossing. It was open but closed as we dawdled to check the map. Happy we are on the correct route we patiently wait with full barrier down and red lights blinking. The train takes some time to come. There are cars waiting on the otherside. Phillipa's eye is caught by the emergency buzzer box to her left, which has a bilungual message, the english reading "Short press button to open get". She interprets this to mean that this crossing point is a request stop where we need to ask for the gates to rise. I again point out that this is a busy line; we know the gates open- they did whilst we were looking at the map without any short buttoning; that there are barriers and red lights for a reason; it's not even translated properly; there'll be a fine. It's a long discussion/argument and I cannot get her to see reason. She feels her argument is bolstered when after the train passes the gates do not rise. "There's obviously another train coming" I return. Heated discussions continue thankfully long enough for her not to try her short buttoning as sure enough the gates open when the next train goes past.
Then we get to the border, much photography snapping. We continue into Bohemia which is very beautiful. You are not supposed to cycle on the pavement in Czech as i discover to my peril when I overtake an elderly lady and my back is hit by a barrage of Czech. I hide on the other side of the road (conspicous as a cycle tourist) while the girls nervously follow her until they can slip past her on the other side of the bridge.
We settle down for the night in the city of Usti, and have an authentic Spainish meal. We stay in hotel Bohemia, which has seen no transformation since the iron curtain was drawn and is still 1962.















*A glanced count only noted only one adverb/adjective in her entry
**On the camping stove in the middle of our bedroom
***Which felt like we were retracing the coputer programmed route of turtle machines at school

**** This suprises us as we continue to expect our North to South desecent through Europe to be downhill
*****Complete with padded gusset, zip offs for three different versatile lengths in attractive and slimming khaki
******Throughout central Europe they are obssessed with providing sanded areas with deckchairs and volleyball courts in urban areas. This one also had the benefit of piped music, but deceptive WC signage which led to an enclosed wooden bench. Confused we decided to save our bladders for later ,and happily some fellow cycle tourist had broken into a portaloo on the outskirts of the city (I'm unfortunate to discover a dead large spider hiding in the toilet paper-still points for the toliet paper)
*******Never have we seen so many cycletourists than today, traveling in both directions and on both banks. We are traveling significantly faster than them, and enjoy repeated overtaking immensly. For some reason whenever Philllipa dings her bell to signal her overtaking intent this puts the willies through the poor cycle tourist who instead wobbles in anticipation of her passage... I think she enjoys this too much.
********
*********Who's the Sandwich Lady?
**********I blame my high centre of gravity and slightly heavier bike.

Day 42 - Wednesday 1st September - Wittenburg to Riesa

Distance covered 99km

UP. Break Fast. Buy Baked Goods. Mount Cycle. Overtake 100 Old German Men on Farrads. Get Clapped and Cheered in Admiration of our Speed. Smooth Path for 50km. Consume Baked Goods. Consume More Baked Goods. Arrive in Riesa, Where Germans Appear to Believe they Have Invented Pasta. And Sport. Do Not Visit World Famous Nudel Factory. Or Sports Arena. Eat Odd Thai German Fusion Food Combo Consists of Deep Fried Fish Schnitzel Atop Green Curry. Peculiar. Feeling Viral. Fail to Continue to Planned destination of Dresden Still 60 km Far Away. Secure Accommodation in Strange Boat House. Bed at 4.30pm. End of Day.

Day 41 - Rest in Lutherstadt Wittenburg... Phil

No alarm this morning.... we awake after 12hours sleep and are beginning to realise the full physical impact of our almost 6 weeks continuous cycling - both bikes and bodies are much in need of this forced rest day! We enjoy breakfast for the meal that it is (unable to help ourselves, it does become a recon for tomorrow's lunch, and Hazel can't resist slipping a few jams into her pocket to help replenish the storecupboard...) and then retrieve bikes from the garage, and head for the bike shop. Ali has scoped out the area whilst waiting for hazel and I to check in last night, and we quickly locate two potentials just around the corner. Opting for the "older" one (identified as such by the pennyfarthing on the sign...), we each explain our various mechanical difficulties to the helpful storemen, resplendent in red overalls! "Come back at 12" we are told. We of course need to clarify this 3 times - thats only 2.5hrs away!! Delighted at this prospect, we nip off to tourist info and grab a quick coffee after wandering through the old town, just in time to pick up bikes. Whilst the German bicyle mechanic is very confused by our combination mountain bike/road bike shifter combo (he is finding it difficult to comprehend why we haven't gone for the 5kmph-along-asphalt, butterfly-handlebar, german-river-path tourer), brakes, steering and buckled wheels are now back in working order. Hazel has a new headset, and Ali's bike has been fitted with amazing super-heavy-duty pannier rack - we are all suitably impressed!

We stop for lunch(yesterdays rolls) in a park, but are struggling with the ever changing weather - hot/cold, cloudy/sunny...the max temperature is apparently only 10degrees but i think we may be at risk of getting burnt! The girls head to Netto for supplies (needing fresh fruit) and I hit the hotel for some Colby family catchup time... we have a habit of ending up in hotel rooms which don't seem to get the wireless connnection so I find myself sitting in the stairwell for an hour or so - luckily most guests use the lift!! Hazel and Ali enjoy an afternoon nap, but awake, starving at 4pm...we decide that two dinners, prior to our cycle to Dresden tomorrow, is not a bad idea so we head to a local Italian joint for some pasta... timing is good and we experience the daily torrential rainfall from inside the restaurant, then feeling the pressure of being 6 days behind on the blog, we hit up the local internet cafe... it turns out this blogging business is quite costly to us - 127minutes and 18euro later, not to mention the emotional pre-blog stress, we're up to date and its time for second dinner.

Little german hotel, we decide to go for the local cuisine - goulash and meat broth, followed by three different potato courses...hazel gets her tinfoil, baked potato swan, which I'm sure is a peacock...), and strudel to finish... we are three very full cycletourists, who have exceeded my designated bed time of 9pm! Back to the Bear Hotel, Ali utilises the hairdryer to achieve her sleek bob look, ready for the big town tomorrow....

Day 40 Potsdam to Lutherstadt Wittenberg... Hazel

Apparently an alarm went off at 0530. No one heard it, so there is no evidence to say we missed it. Instead we wake up at 0830. I groan with the memory of the remaining bike patch up service.
But as could be predicted we are all much more effective fed, watered, and slept. The bike's are noisy but functional, and now we can brake ( shoe braking necessary yesterday).

Breakfast. Such is the wealth of text devoted in the blog to the discussion of breakfast I am choosing today to only name it as an event. Which we could do with all our days... breakfast, cycle, eat, puncture, cycle, eat etc... However that would be quite tedious to read an write everyday. So what of today?
Alice and Phillipa seem unnervingly relaxed about the cycle despite the lack of any specific map other than our trusty europe road atlas. Nerved by their relaxed attitude I assimilate their roles and suggest we go to the tourist information before town depature. This is of course warmly welcomed and we jot down the towns the route plans us to traverse. I am sent into the Bakery for supplies. Colby cupboard requesting "three and three and three and three and three of rolls". Pigeon welsh German and hand gestures sees me exit with two carrier bags of baked goods. The Little girl in the shop is astounded with my unremitting orders for "try" and point at item.
Wheels roll. After some time Alice calls a halt... we're heading north. Europe atlas consulted. We are back a page near Berlin. Sighs, we retrace and lo! here is the sign on the other side of the road 10k back.
Some more kilometres... Snap. Ding ding (stop bell alert). Alice's front pannier rack has snapped. Cable ties and we continue.

The R1 route is dotted with maps (Colby Compass delight) and little huts. We stop in one and are suddenly in a swarm of mosquitoes. I cower under technical clothing using waterproofs as blankets and mutter soothingly under my breath. The sandwich stop is quickly moved on to the hill top for a panoramic view and no mosies.
Some more kilometres... The R1 sends us out of a town via cobbles onto a dirt track than signposts left. Up a sandy track with wooden steps. Signage is checked. We walk our bikes in disgust. Up the hill (which bible describes as a mountain?!?) and then some more kilometres. We've traveled past lot's of Sunflower fields lately. I had wondered why none were looking at the sun until the girls helpfully pointed out that they were all dead. Another picnic and loo break at a lovely tourist information centre who bent over backwards to find information on Wittenburg for us (Which we didn't need, Colby wanted to expand her infrmation libabry forgetting she was already in possession of a Wittenberg map). We emerge with a map of the R1 route (if only earlier?).
Final 25km stretch. Off road sand track with Phillipa out infront. Everyone's concentrating on navigating the best route through. I'm behind Alice whoes back wheel suddenly is up in the air and my face is headed for it. Swerving, clipping and falling, but not on top of her. Alice's pannier rack cable tie repair has failed, it is now mangled and entwined in her wheel. We are both up standing, a little shaken. Ali's knee's are bleeding. Phillipa extracts the bent alumminum, I open field hospital and tend to Alice's graze. Again the mosquitoes find us. They love cycling legs clad in leggings, and are all over me whilst I am unable to defend myself treating Alice. Conversation once again crippled by expletive outbursts.

Front panniers are lashed over Mine and Phil's rear pannier racks. Spokes are tugged back into place, none broken. It rubs on the front brake every revolution but is ridable.

Luckily we're on the descent to Wittenberg, land of Martin Luther- it would seem I am cycling though my History AS level this past week. His statute has been replaced with replicas whilst restored much to themultiple coach parties delight. Two gentleman of a coach are however more taken with Alice's cycle bell compass. They are both touching it and discussing in great detail. Despite Alice's prescence (in helmet) they do not wish to interact. Bear hotel with Bed and bike checked into.
Greek dinner and ice cream. We decide over dinner that perhaps the bikes need some attention. We also agree we're all quite tired and a proper rest day (without storming around a City's Kulture is called for).
Sleep.