Europe 2013: On the Way to Vienna

August 31, 2013

As I close out the final day of August, it's interesting to look back on where I've been. I've been through Ireland, Scotland, England, Wales, England again, France, Belgium, Holland, and now Germany. I've travelled around 6,000 kilometers. I've already visited three sets of friends in two cities, with another four to go. The trip is slightly over half-way done.

I've seen lots of new things, and a few things I already knew. I've been inside a working Dutch windmill, inside a couple medieval walled cities (just today, in fact), through countless lowlands and highlands and midlands too. I've visited sites ranging from Bronze Age through present day. I've eaten a great deal of chocolate. I've met a number of new people. I've spoken a lot of German, which is very pleasing.

As for today, there was little of immediate interest, in a specific sense. I traversed over 350 km (I don't have the count in front of me), including dark forest, open farmland, deep valleys, big cities, small villages, and absolutely miniscule dorfs. It was a bit of a distance day, so a lot of the riding was of the "Just get there" variety. I did not repeat the mistake of spending much or indeed any time on the autobahn.

I was thinking over a few topics, though, as I rode along. One of them was speed, and how it's regulated in different places. In Ireland, the speed limit was almost an afterthought. 100 km/h allowed on most roads, and most roads would leave you broken in a rock-wall-hearted hedge if you actually tried to drive that fast. In the UK, particularly in Scotland, the speed limits were reasonable, but there were speed cameras everywhere, including "average speed" cameras, which grabbed you at one point then another, so that if your speed over the whole stretch was too fast, you were in trouble. Particularly in the UK, in every little town I came to, there was an automated "your speed is" sign which would flash red at you, or display a frowny-face, if you were going too fast.

On the other hand, in Germany, the speed is closely regulated: 100 km/h on otherwise unmarked non-city roads, and 50 km/h on otherwise unmarked city/town roads. Most intersections are specifically marked for a 500m stretch down to 70 km/h. Most towns include a 30 km/h section (which is the upper end of bicycle speed for me). Around work zones, the speed will be carefully stepped down: 100, 80, 60, sometimes even 30.

Yet until yesterday, I had not seen a single sign indicating my current speed. Through today, I've now seen all of three, and I've probably been through 20-30 small towns. I've only seen a few police vehicles, and of actual speed cameras, perhaps five.

But, driving along, most people just inherently drive the speed limit. There's no problem with speeding (unless you count the unmarked sections of separated double-carriageway, where I'm not actually sure of the regulations). It's quite interesting.

The other thing I wanted to do was describe these small roads and small towns a bit better. On a properly small road, suddenly the solid white stripes at the side, and dashed white line at the center, will suddenly disappear. Sometimes you'll get white lines at the sides, but only about half the time. The road narrows to the point that two large trucks could pass, but only by driving mirror to mirror, and knocking gravel off the side of the pavement. It never gets narrower than that in normal circumstances (ie, as long as you're still on a real street -- forest tracks are a different matter).

Suddenly, a yellow sign appears, announcing the border of a town. This is the only indication you get as to the speed, by the way. Sometimes there will be a sign showing 50, but most of the time, the fact of being in a city is your hint to slow down. There will be a few houses, almost universally either white or brick-red (because, bricks), which then leads into the town itself. Most of these little towns are in the valleys. Inevitiably there will be a host of lovely but (in the context) utterly unremarkable houses. There will be at least one building of brick or wood or stone that looks like it's been there for a very long time, and may or may not be abandoned. The other buildings have no doubt also been there a very long time, but they're well-cared-for, and look it. Freqently there will be side streets, and if you look up them, the houses will climb the hillside like a stairway constructed by a very drunk giant.

The main road will wind sinuously through the center of town, doubtless following the path that's been there for somewhere between hundreds and thousands of years. If there are businesses present, they must mostly not have storefronts and signs as I've come to expect them. There is the occasional modern-looking storefront, and if a town is big enough, a jarringly modern bank sign. If a town is really large enough, there will be one or more churches with high spires, inevitably made of stone, and most older than the United States by a good bit.

I also found my way to two different walled cities today. The first was Ahrweiler, just over the river (which is to say, about 500m) from my campsite this morning. I was finished early and ready to leave, but the office wouldn't open for another hour, so I decided to walk into town and see about some breakfast. I had to walk back and get my camera when I rounded the corner and was suddenly reminded that a big chunk of town was inside a high stone wall. No way was I going to wander through there without taking a few photos.

Indeed, once inside the wall (I got to walk up along a siege wall defense walkway, strictly on my own lookout, of course), it was pure medieval Germany above the ground floor, and disconcertingly modern shops on the ground floor. It was lovely, and there at the center, I found the church, all done up in yellow and white stone. I stopped at a bakery (one of the only shops with a line out the door at the comparatively early hour of 9:30), and picked up a pair of bauernbroetchen ("farmer's little-bread"), which would end up being delightfully crusty yet soft brown bread rolls. I stopped into another bakery and could not resist buying an "Amerikaner" for a euro: a white smiley-face sort of cake thing. Look at the picture.

My original goal for the day was Ingolstadt (I have friends who live there, but they're on vacation in Austria at the moment, so it was merely a convenient goal). Then it got scaled back to about an hour closer, then again to an hour closer. I am now camped about 20 minutes from Rothenberg, the other walled city I visited.

Rothenberg is a place where I had less time, and I was mostly there to photograph a ridiculously picturesque foot bridge. It was nonetheless another walled city where people work and live every day like it was no big thing.

So, finally, over hill and over dale, here I am at the Morenhof campground, my tent parked next to a little lake, sitting at the oddly-canted picnic table a few feet away. I've paid the princely sum of 2.50 for two hours' worth of internet access, and if this place is like the last place I paid for it, I look forward to it being essentially unuseable. But hopefully I'll have updates out for you tonight: it's my task before bed.

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Created by Ian Johnston. Questions? Please mail me at reaper at obairlann dot net.