A Cycle Trip to the Oberammergau Passion Play
Introduction
We actually booked our tickets for the Oberammergau Passion Play – or Passionsspiele – in August 2018, but thanks to our Chinese friends, life got put on hold for a couple of years and so it wasn’t until 2022 that the play – and thus the trip – actually took place.
We considered the various options for getting out there and back, but since we hadn’t been cycle camping for quite some time the obvious choice was to do just that. There were obviously time constraints in terms of getting there for the performance so we opted to take the train out and cycle camp back.
It’s never easy taking bikes on trains and certainly not with a load of camping gear, so the obvious choice was to take the Bike Fridays so we didn’t have to go through all of the rigmarole of booking bike spaces but instead could take any train we wanted.
With a departure date of Monday 20 June, I made all the bookings in late April and had no problem organising the tickets using the Deutsche Bahn website. We would travel from John‘s house in Watlington, near Kings Lynn, to Harwich, taking two days, camping at Thurston in the middle. Then we would get the Stena Line ferry to the Hook of Holland and then make our way to Amsterdam for a night there and catch the train the next day to Munich. We would stay the night there and make our way to Oberammergau the following day. We had two nights booked at a guest house there. Two nights B&B plus the cost of the tickets and two evening meals were going to set us back somewhere in the region of 850 Euros – let’s hope it would be worth it! So how did it all pan out?
The journey out
Getting ready for going away was quite an ordeal. It’s been at least a couple of years since our last camping trip and I was somewhat paranoid about forgetting something. I always say that packing takes as long as you have time for doing it; in this case I had about 10 days, so consequently I had 10 days of stressing around doing the job which could probably have been achieved in two!
It was a massive relief to get on the road up to Susan for what I hoped would be one last day of calm before setting off, but of course it didn’t turn out that way and Sunday proved equally as stressful as the previous ten. But set off we eventually did at around 10 o’clock on the Monday morning and drove with everything in the back of the car over to friend John’s in Watlington. It was a lovely day and I do wonder how we would have felt had it been damp and dreary, but being the way it was, we reassembled the bikes, attached the trailer to mine, loaded all the luggage, and with some degree of trepidation began peddling south at around midday. We both became immediately aware of the weight we were carrying and so it was a fairly wobbly start followed by a slow ride to the campsite at Thurston just east of Bury St Edmunds. Short of riding a very wiggly route through lanes we opted to take the direct route down through the Thetford Forest on B roads and endure the juggernauts and all the other traffic. It wasn’t much fun and the heat didn’t help either.
We reached our campsite, Bright Meadow Caravan Park, in Thetford around seven having had a little difficulty with navigation at the end; it was a gorgeous evening and the campsite is very nice. Susan went off to buy fish and chips while I put the tent up and got all the bits we needed inside. It had been a tough first day but Susan assured me that the next day to Harwich was not quite so long or hard.
It’s been quite a few years since Susan made this journey and so her memory wasn’t quite what it might have been. Our journey on day two proved harder and longer than day one. The route was a nice one however, particularly at the beginning with a lot more lanes and a lot fewer main roads. As with yesterday we stopped for coffee and breaks from time to time, at Hadleigh and in the very pretty village of Dedham in Constable country where we enjoyed a delicious ice cream from a tea shop owned by Mr Tiptree himself.
We expected the cycling from then on to be easy but sadly it proved otherwise. The road to Manningtree, apart from being closed for roadworks – we struggled through pushing our bikes – was hilly. Then after riding through Manningtree it continued to be hilly. Susan was suffering from a very sore rear end and, it being another long, hard and hot day in the saddle, neither of us were feeling particularly great at this point; but nevertheless Harwich was eventually reached at around 6.30. I think it probably was the longer of the two days but it’s very difficult to be certain; records later downloaded showed day two to be 22 kms longer.
With the ferry not due to sail until 11 pm, we had plenty of time in hand. Once we discovered that we wouldn’t be able to get on board until nine at the earliest, we retired to the Brewers Fayre just up the road and had a nice meal. There wasn’t enough of it of course, but there never is in these sort of places.
Alongside us in lane 1 in the queue for the ferry later that evening were about 60 cyclists from the Marlow Cycling Club. A noisy and amicable bunch they were too. We also had a good chat with two motorcyclist who were just behind us. One was on his way to Assen for the racing, the other was heading up to Hamburg for the second time in so many weeks. He had one of those strange bikes with two wheels at the front – a Yamaha of some sort.
The Stena Britannica is a lovely vessel, very well appointed and our little cabin had a bathroom and two bunk beds. After dumping our bag of night stuff there – easily found which makes a nice change – Susan took a shower while I headed to the bar for a final beer. The bar I went to was actually out on the rear deck with a great view looking out and down over the stern end of the boat where trailers were being manoeuvred into position by some extraordinarily adept drivers of – I don’t know what you call those things – but they hauled the trailers around like they were Dinky toys!
Susan slept well although I didn’t particularly. For some reason the throbbing of the engine disturbed my slumbers but I slept a bit and felt fine in the morning. We were all kicked off the boat very politely at about 7 o’clock, and then we had to queue to be allowed in the country and have our passports stamped, but that was fun with all the Marlow cyclists to chat to. They were on a five day jaunt to the Netherlands to celebrate someone’s birthday – a chap called Jonathan Smith I think. Anyway it was he who had planned this jamboree and it seemed very well organised. We bumped into groups of them once or twice after leaving the Hook and they looked to be in small groups of equal ability, all heading in the general direction of Amstelveen, where they were staying on the first night. They were then heading up I think to Texel before returning back from whence they had come.
Passports duly stamped, there was nothing now between us and the paradise that is cycle touring in the Netherlands. The weather was gorgeous and already warm before 9 o’clock and the first thing we were going to do was to mosey into town for some breakfast. Not a lot was open but we came across Hema, which is a chain store found in most Dutch towns. I’ve not been in one of these places before but they’re a sort of Wilko and they do serve very nice coffee and some edibles of one sort or another for a very modest price. One of the staff was even from Manchester!
Feeling energised despite this rather modest breakfast, it was time to turn on the GPS and hope that my little purple line would take us to the railway station at Leiden.
To get there involved riding up the coast through Scheveningen, along the beachfront there and then taking a right turn to pass just north of the Hague and so eventually, after 33kms, to reach the station at Leiden where we would catch a train to Amsterdam Centraal Station.
For this section of the route I had actually not only plotted the route as a GPX track for the Garmin but I’d also made a note of the Knoppunts we would pass on our route. What I didn’t realise at the time was that the two routes were not the same. Knoppunts by the way are a Dutch system of navigation for cyclists; if you have a map showing them it’s just a question of working out your route and following the numbers – works a treat.
We left the Hook following the magic purple line but then I came to one of the knoppunts on my list and my allegiance to the purple line wavered. To cut a long story short I continued to follow the purple line but the route was rather dull and was nothing like the route I had followed up the coast in previous years. When I eventually tired of the cycle path we were taking alongside a main road, I decided to turn off and we went through a rather nice park back onto nicer cycle paths which eventually led us back to the coast which we followed through the dunes for a bit. So in theory we should have got to Scheveningen beachfront, but for some inexplicable reason it never happened. To be honest we got fairly lost in the Hague but, following my nose as is sometimes necessary, we eventually found the purple line again and followed that all the way to Leiden without further problems. We did pass through some nice parts of The Hague which was some consolation, and had a very good coffee and cake in a newly opened café by a canal.
So, here we were in Leiden, after a ride of about 30kms, in front of the very impressive modern railway station. It was now time to tackle the Dutch railway system which I didn’t think would be any great problem. The ticket machines ‘speak’ English as well as Dutch, oh and German too, like all good ticket machines should, so there was no problem buying two tickets for us and two tickets for the bikes. We were aware that Dutch railways don’t like trailers so I had carefully taken ours apart and turned it into a flat package which I then rested on top of the saddle of the bike as I wheeled it along. The red bag sat nicely on my back with my arms through the two straps – this was actually a great discovery and made life a lot quicker and easier on several occasions. The train arrived and we got on without any problem, but there was a different problem instead: this particular train, which should have gone to Amsterdam Centraal, was actually only going as far as Haarlem. What to do? The female guard suggested we change at Schiphol onto a train which would go to Amsterdam Centraal, and after a quick think we opted for this because we didn’t want another few kilometres to ride – it was pretty hot and we’d already had quite a day.
We managed to change trains ok although it was all a bit of a rush – and so sat down to await our arrival in Amsterdam. Sadly the guard on this train took more of an interest in us and our little load and decided that we shouldn’t be on the train and certainly not with that trailer which, as I described earlier was not behaving like a trailer – it was behaving like a flat piece of luggage. It’s a trailer, said the guard, and we do not permit trailers on trains in Holland. If I’d seen you get on I would’ve turned you off but since you’re here I’ll let you continue but remember trailers are not allowed.
Lesson duly learned but not inwardly digested, we eventually made it to Amsterdam Centraal Station. Before heading onwards I did a bit of a recce for our onward train journey southwards which was useful, after which we exited out of the back of the station in order to catch the ferry over the water to my favourite Amsterdam campsite at Vlieganbos.
I couldn’t remember which ferry it was – there are several which ply their way across this stretch of water endlessly all day – the crossing is free. We got on the wrong one naturally but no bother: when we got to the other side it only took asking about three people and doing a modest loop to avoid a canal crossing over a lock gate that we were too big to manage. Then we decided to have a beer in a bar, after which I said, follow me, I’ll find it somehow. And find it I easily did. It was lovely to be back at this very nice campsite but I wasn’t particularly happy with what I saw. They’ve carried out a certain amount of work, I suspect to bring in more revenue. The space for campers with tents had been reduced to one field, whilst the two other fields have now been given over to camper vans. The end field is in the process of being filled with chalet-like buildings, which of course they can sell for a lot more. When I asked the price they told me that, depending on the size of course, the price ranged from 120 to 160 Euros per night. €40 a night per person in a four bedded chalet – well okay, not exorbitant but still more than I’d want to pay. I want to camp in a tent for around 20 Euros – for two people!
I suppose it was about mid afternoon by this time. Susan wanted to eat something and I wanted to nip into town to have a quick shufti. After getting the tent up and getting sorted we decided to go together to the supermarket back down towards the ferry. I would drop Susan there and she could do the shopping and return to the campsite and have a shower whilst I would continue into town. We were both on the bikes, mine by this time being de-trailered – what a relief!
As ever I was loving every moment of riding a bike in Amsterdam. I discovered what the right ferry was – it’s the one to Ijplein – and actually goes from a jetty slightly along from the entrance to the railway station where the other ferries leave from. It’s all slightly confusing because all the ferries look the same.
Business done, I returned the same way and missed catching a ferry by a gnat’s whisker so had to wait 15 or so minutes for the next. Anyway campsite reached safely and Susan had already tucked into her dinner, something I also started doing, it being about 7.30 by this time.
Day four, Thursday, of our holiday, and we woke to another glorious day. It was crunch time. Would we manage to get our bikes, the trailer and all our luggage on to our ICE train which I had booked to take us down to Munich?
We arrived back at Centraal Station at least an hour before the train was due to leave. We had to lug the luggage and the bikes up a few stairs to reach the platform and then we carefully chose our spot and began the dismantling process. I had already dismantled the trailer and turned it into a package wrapped in a tarpaulin this time. I had the red bag on my back and It was actually quite easy to carry these items as well as the bike with panniers attached. The intention was to cause as little attention as we could. I set about folding the bikes down and putting them into the bags that we had brought out especially for this purpose. These bags are made of something like jute, although I have no idea what jute is, it’s just a name. The bags it’s made out of are light and strong and big – they need to be. I suppose the operation took about 20 minutes. We were then ready to climb aboard. The train had actually been there for quite a while but had not been allowing anyone on board. This of course changed about half an hour before departure so we were able to load our stuff at leisure.
Initially the train seemed quite cramped and seemed to have very little luggage space. We ended up stacking all the stuff in front of a door. Anyone with half a brain should have realised that this was a big mistake but anyway, we couldn’t see anywhere else large enough to take all our bits. Besides we had seen no guard or other official on the platform and we didn’t see one on the train until we were well into our journey. We met one via an announcement over the intercom requesting the presence of the cyclists with their luggage in front of the door and duly presented ourselves and got a fairly severe telling off by a Dutch guard who said that one should never put luggage in front of an emergency exit door – and all doors were emergency exit doors. We took it on the chin, apologised for our mistake and he told us where to put the luggage. He also informed us that we should not be riding on this train with those bikes. I told him they were folding bikes and their website clearly stated that folding bikes may be carried, but he insisted that they were the wrong kind of folding bikes. The crazy thing was that the guard pointed us to an area, oh, at least three metres away from where we were standing, which would easily accommodate all the luggage and he might never have even noticed it had we put it there in the first place. That said we might have had a problem if there had been a pram or wheelchair because this area was intended for those type of things. Anyway everything got quickly moved, the guard said he wouldn’t turn us off the train and we returned to our seats suitably chastised but inwardly breathing sighs of relief.
Approximately three hours later, after having to stop to pick up passengers from a broken down train, we got to Frankfurt Airport where we had to change trains and took the bikes and all the luggage off the train. Yay, we’d made it halfway! Fortunately the train we were now due to catch started from the adjacent platform so there was no need to lug anything anywhere. Instead I went up the platform to look at the signs and see what was happening. Basically a lot was happening. It seems that the trains were in a bit of a muddle and our train, we eventually discovered from a helpful German girl, was going to be about an hour late. In the meantime trains came and went bound for various remote destinations in Germany. Then a train to Munich came in, but it wasn’t ours, so we continued to sit patiently, or perhaps in my case pace up and down the platform with a worried frown on my face – no, it wasn’t really like that – my nerves were slightly raw but nothing too serious.
Eventually our train arrived and on we piled. There seemed to be no guards or officials around, but there were quite a lot of people, but this time we knew where to look for the luggage compartments and so were quickly and easily able to stack everything in one luggage area where it was easily accommodated. I said quickly and easily but I suspect a number of legs belonging to other passengers were a bit dented by the end of the operation. As it turned out we never saw a guard. Apparently, as I discovered later, when there were problems on the railway the guards hide in their little cabins and don’t come out. And so we reached Munich.
The train being an hour late, although it wasn’t dark, it was getting dark. Here we were on platform five at Munich HauptBanhof with two completely dismantled bikes, a dismantled trailer and an awful lot of bags. The rebuilding process began immediately and soon everything was reassembled and loaded up.
It had been a long day but there was still one more challenge to be faced which was finding our accommodation. I had an image of its location in my mind because I had studied it but I still wasn’t 100% certain. Anyway once we’d got ourselves organised, with our bike lights blazing and helmets firmly on our heads, we proceeded out into the Munich twilight and were immediately delighted to see that everywhere there were bike lanes. If we turned left out of the station, then took another left we should be running up the side of the station towards our destination. It was about a kilometre or more but of course it felt longer because there were lots of streets to cross. Plus it was now dark. Plus we didn’t know what we were looking for. It turned out that what we were looking for was a building that looked like a building site. Serious renovations were in progress, both inside and out – at the A&O Hackerbrucker Hostel. The entrance was adorned with scaffolding and a thick trail of dust – I exaggerate a little perhaps – lead us to the reception desk.
Yes, they were expecting us. Our room was number 127 on the first floor. What to do with the bikes? Well, there was a luggage room but it wasn’t secure, although it was locked at all times, but you only had to ask for the key to get in. There was no garage so the only other option was to take the bikes and luggage up to our room which the receptionist said we were welcome to do. I went upstairs to check out the room to discover that, whilst the corridors had been as yet unimproved, the room itself was new and pristine. It would have helped to have been able to see it properly but someone was already in bed and the light was out, but fortunately there was sufficient light to quickly appreciate that there was plenty of space for the bikes.
The process of lugging all our stuff plus bikes up to the dorm took a little time. There was a lift and it worked. There were also other people around – young people – noisy people – but luckily amongst them some helpful ones who actually helped carry our bags the 20m from the lift to our room door. Uncalled for, very gratefully accepted, and definitely unexpected since they were aged about 11 or 12.
We quickly got ourselves sort of sorted in the dorm, bearing in mind we were doing this by the light of my headtorch. We decided we had to eat next. It was about 11.30 in the evening by this time and we didn’t hold out much hope of finding anything open but, on the advice of reception, we headed back towards town on foot towards a beer garden that we had passed. It was the kind of place you needed to go to on arrival for the first time in a place like Munich and it did not disappoint – except on the food front; they had stopped serving. I suggested a beer anyway which Susan was happy to go along with, and so we downed a couple of litres of Germany’s finest between us, pulled our belts in a little and made our way back to the hostel.
On arriving back we just happened to talk to one of the friendly staff who was doing something behind the small bar which was still open despite it being well past midnight now. I don’t know how the subject came up – oh, I remember now, I think we asked for a packet of nuts and we said how hungry we were. The staff member promptly opened a small fridge behind him revealing about half a dozen pizzas and asked if we’d like one. Our eyes lit up and we quickly ordered two. Two minutes in the microwave and they were at our mercy; I think we both thought they were going to taste vile, but in fact they were quite delicious and so we went to bed with our stomachs moderately happy.
I had a very good night, Susan less so. The bedroom, which contained six beds, four of which were occupied, was incredibly hot. It has been yet another hot day and the sun shines directly into this room and warms everything up to oven temperature. And the heat doesn’t dissipate quickly. I managed okay – I think I was so exhausted after our day of travelling that I would have slept standing on my feet if I’d had to. Susan had less of a good night but seemed okay.
What I haven’t mentioned up until now were one or two issues that came up in the planning. Firstly, I’d made a small miscalculation with regard to dates and so we found ourselves with an extra day for the outward journey. I didn’t appreciate this fact until Bookings.com got in touch shortly before our departure from the UK to tell us that the hotel I’d booked us into for our night in Munich had decided that they didn’t want us any more and had cancelled our booking. I got into a panic about this, knowing that booking a hotel now wasn’t going to be cheap; however I found a reasonably priced hostel and accidentally booked the wrong night – a night later than the one we wanted. I subsequently discovered that we needed to stay another night somewhere – and why not Munich – but not before I went to great lengths in an attempt to change my booking to the night before. I will say no more except to say that it was perhaps the most stressful part of the whole holiday but it fortunately turned out OK.
After a good breakfast the next morning in the basement restaurant, worth every cent of the €7 it cost, we put a game plan together. We had two things to do; Susan wanted a new pair of cycling shoes and I wanted to stop the squeak in my three speed hub gear. Our first port of call wasn’t far away – a large cycle emporium, but alas no one really wanted to know about my squeak and they didn’t sell shoes. They suggested a place right in the centre of town near the MarianPlatz for shoes so that got added to the list.
We passed a nice café or two just down the road and decided to stop and have a coffee. It was called the Pinocchio I think and the waiter was very helpful and gave Susan a nice weak coffee. They also served food and we thought it might be a possible place to go for supper.
We continued to the next street where we were told were a couple of bike shops – I think they said it was called lucky bikes or something. We didn’t find lucky bikes, but we did find bike shops and in the second one, a man pulled out a can of WD-40, removed the little chain thing that screws into the hub gear, squirted a bit of juice into it, replaced the little chain thing, re-adjusted my three speed (rather badly) and I didn’t hear another squeak for at least a week. Result!
The MarianPlatz was our next destination, right in the centre of the old town, so It was on our list of places to go see anyway. It was about a kilometre away and it didn’t take long to get there along the usual cycle lanes which were everywhere. Cycling in the middle of an unknown big city centre is always a little intimidating but we had no problems thankfully. Thus we had a good look around the old town which was, well, the usual German stuff really. There seemed to be quite a few triumphal arches around although I was told later that any that were built around the time of the Third Reich had been removed. Did I make that up? I’m not sure. A little bit of searching eventually found Susan‘s shoe shop and about 45 minutes later we had another pair of shoes to lug around with us. They were very nice and the shop was lovely – a sort of outdoor sports emporium on several levels. They had some great bike gear but it was all quite expensive. Susan’s shoes were €100. And because I couldn’t take the cleats off her current pair we had to go out the next morning back to the first bike shop we’d found and purchase a pair for €15. I think €15 for a couple of small bits of metal and four screws is rather a lot of money personally.
We then decided to visit the English Garden which is a large park close to the centre of town. Found easily enough, we enjoyed riding along by a fast flowing stream running through it and then found a bench where we had lunch. Unfortunately this was the moment when clouds began to spew forth their contents upon us, gently to start with but then a deluge set in. We found some shelter under a triumphal arch just outside the park entrance where we remained probably for about an hour until it subsided to a modest level, at which point we attempted to find our way back to the hostel, which we eventually found after asking several pedestrians for assistance.
It was getting on by now so we thought we ought to have a proper meal and so decided to returned to the Café Pinocchio to enjoy a second night of pizza which was equally good, if not better! Unfortunately the rain chose to fall again just as we were leaving so we were wet again by the time we got back to the hostel.
The hostel was busy that night but we fortunately found only two others in our room. These were a couple of Indian guys both of whom worked in IT, one in Brussels and the other in Holland. We enjoyed a very interesting chat for about an hour before going to bed.
The next morning it was time to continue our journey onwards to Oberammergau so we returned to the station and, with the help of a DB staff member, purchased our tickets. German railways were offering a special €9 ticket to get pretty much anywhere in Germany on local trains which was amazing. However, owing to the recent railway accident not far away from where we were, travel on local railways was very much limited. The nearest we could get to Oberammergau was Oberau. On looking at the map I could see Oberammergau was just a short ride away from Oberau and this seemed the better option than trying to get us and our equipment on to a replacement bus service.
To add to the general melée, and owing to the fact that there just happened to be a G7 summit taking place near Garmisch Partenkirchen, just south of Oberammergau, the station was packed with police, and I mean packed – battalions of them everywhere. We were told later that there were 16,000 police on duty to protect our precious politicians from terrorist attacks.
We had two amazing pieces of unexpected luck on our holiday and the first was about to happen. A woman sat down on the train next to Susan who happened to be English – she was returning home from a conference in Miami and actually lived in Oberammergau with her American husband Tom. Susan and I were conversing in English and she chipped in providing the answer to some matter we were discussing. We struck up a conversation which quickly turned to what we were up to. On hearing that we were heading for her home town, she told us that the short ride to Oberammergau from Oberau that we were proposing to do actually took us over a rather large hill, and as an occasional cyclist herself, she didn’t recommend it. Instead she said we should get out at the station before, Murnau, and ride from there instead: it would be quite a lot longer but very much flatter. We decided to follow her advice and duly got out at Murnau where she was getting out to be picked up by her husband Tom. The real icing on the cake was that they offered to carry our luggage and deliver it to our gasthof in Ober. Now just how good was that!
The ride turned out to be about 30kms but it was generally flat although it did involve travelling along a fairly busy road, but German drivers seemed to be very considerate so we had no problems. It was a pretty ride too.
And so at last we arrived at our destination. Tom and Sarah came along with our luggage and we checked in to our accommodation, the Gasthof Margold. Our hostess Christine made us very welcome, showing us to our room where we unpacked and got ourselves a bit organised. Not long after we had a wander around the town having eaten a very decent dinner at the next door gasthof.
We slept well and enjoyed a modest breakfast sitting with two couples originally from the Philippines, all of whom were doctors living in New Jersey, USA, in the same town as where some of my U.S. cousins live. Sadly they weren’t acquainted – that would have been too much of a coincidence.
The Passion Play
The day began after breakfast when we headed into town to the Passion Play theatre for a very interesting talk about the event which was given by the assistant director. We followed this with another wander round the village and a very expensive slice of pizza and cup of coffee before it was time to return to the theatre for the start of the play at 2:30.
The PassionSpiele Theatre is massive and probably holds around 5000 people. Quite how we managed to find ourselves in the fourth row from the front I don’t know – probably as a result of booking tickets in August 2018; it would not have been nearly so good had we been further back. Although our seats were quite far to one side, we had an excellent view of the proceedings and, together with the little translation books of all the dialogue that we were given, we were able to follow the action very well.
The photos below show the Assistant Director giving us the talk. He also played Nicodemus in the play. The small photo shows the stage from where we were sitting during the talk. The large photo is of the auditorium from where we were sitting for the play.
There were probably about three or four hundred performers not to mention a small flock of sheep, a donkey, a horse and even a camel. A full orchestra provided occasional background music and supported the large choir which interspersed the action from time to time throughout the five hour long production.
Everything about the show was impressive and it really did give one a very immersive experience of the final week of Christ’s life. The scene depicting the actual crucifixion was most realistic and truly memorable. I thought Pontius Pilate was particularly good in his role; Jesus, on the other hand was a little aggressive in his demeanour in my opinion but still very good. All in all, it was an amazing experience and one that I was very glad to have had. The dialogue between the Jewish priests and the Roman authorities formed a significant part of the play and enabled a very good insight to be gained into the dynamics of the events leading up to the crucifixion. Being able to read the dialogue in English was essential, and reading it from the book we were given fortunately didn’t detract from the visual spectacle which never failed to impress.
The five hour performance wasn’t quite the ordeal I had imagined. There was a long interval after 2½ hours, when everyone went and had dinner – ours was pre-booked at a local restaurant as part of ‘the package’. The second half of the play was the same length. One interesting feature that was completely different to any other performance I have ever been to was that there were no curtain calls. Once the last word of the play was spoken, the performers left the stage and that was it. I found it very appropriate since the play has a somewhat sad ending. Obviously the audience showed their appreciation but no performers re-appeared to take a bow.
The Journey Home
After another restful and comfortable night, Monday dawned and so began the start of our long return journey. We set off quite early because Christine, our hostess, wanted us out early so she could prepare for her next batch of theatregoers.
At 9.15am precisely on Monday 27 June I switched on my Garmin Etrex 30 and prayed that the magic purple line we hoped to follow all the way to the North Sea would appear on the little screen to guide us home… and it did, thank goodness! And so, climbing aboard our laden bikes we set off horthwards. The weather was perfect. The route I had spent days plotting should follow quiet roads and, with the exception of one fairly decent hill on this first day – we were after all in the foothills of the Bavarian Alps – it should be mostly flat since we would be following river valleys for the most part.
Well we struggled up the hills and each time prayed there wouldn’t be many more – and there weren’t – but that first day was certainly the hilliest. Nevertheless we made good progress and reached Landsberg am Lech in good time to find our campsite and set up the tent for the first time in a few days.
The campsite was fine once we had found a patch of ground into which we could get our pegs embedded sufficiently. The shower block was a bit of a hike away but nothing is ever perfect. After showering we went for a meal at the restaurant in the campsite and then retired to bed. (Monday 27 June: Oberammergau – Landsberg am Lech 69.1kms / 643m climbed)
There was a humdinger of a thunderstorm that night; the rain hammered down on the tent and we enjoyed a couple of magnificent light shows through the fabric of the tent to add to the excitement of the night. Despite this we had a comfortable (and dry) night – unlike most of the other campers around us – and woke to much improved weather. The tent quickly dried out in the morning sun and, having got up at 7 o’clock, we were on the road by about 9.30, bound for Augsburg.
Bavaria is lovely – very rural – and the cycle tracks we were following led us through endless fields of various crops all tidily laid out in strips. It’s very different to the landscape in the UK since there are no hedges or field boundaries, just a lovely silky smooth strip of perfect tarmac taking us from one quiet village to the next with endless views in every direction. You hardly see a car.
We did have one ‘exciting’ stretch where my plotted route followed along the river Lech on an overgrown footpath which proved quite challenging to ride and was clearly not the right route to take. Fortunately it was probably only a kilometre in length but we were quite glad to get off it – well, Susan was very glad actually. I still don’t quite know how the trailer managed to negotiate the bushes and trees which hemmed us in on all sides – clearly my riding skills were greater than I thought! Then the final 15 or so kilometres into Augsburg was along an unmade road which was well surfaced but fairly dull and seemed endless at the time. Fortunately there was a café on the river towards the end of it as we approached Augsburg where we stopped to revive my mildly flagging spirits.
Although few and far between we’d been lucky so far finding cafés and supermarkets at appropriate spots. On our first day’s ride we passed a lovely big supermarket at Schongau, right on the route, which provided us with a few much needed supplies, not to mention a longer bolt so I could finally successfully fit my bike stand. I said the supplies were much needed – well, all supplies on a camping trip are much needed, because if they weren’t you wouldn’t be buying them because you have to carry them. Invariably every day there are one or two essential items that one runs short of. The trick is not to buy any more than you absolutely need. One problem of course is that some things don’t come in very small packages. Methylated spirits (Spiritus in German) for example, for our Trangia cooker, only comes in litre bottles.
Augsburg is a big city but it was amazing how, by following the magic purple line, we were able to get through the city without hitting any busy roads whatsoever. Some of the credit for this must go to me, but a lot of the routing was actually achieved automatically when I used https://cycle.travel/ to plan all the routes. There’ll be a donation going their way on my return, that’s for certain because it really is a great route planning site and even shows the location of accommodation local to your route, including campsites.
I rather enjoyed conversing with the campsite receptionists on arrival, who were a varied bunch, and it’s usually possible to have a laugh about something, which serves as a useful ‘relaxant’ at the end of a day’s ride. I don’t particularly remember having a laugh on this occasion but I do recall the chap behind the desk telling me quite categorically that the restaurant on site was closed. I usually always go and have a little shuftie around when we get to a campsite and found the restaurant to be open for business as usual. The restaurant was only about 50 yards from the reception; I never quite understand why people don’t communicate. Anyway we made use of it and I enjoyed my first ever currywurst mit fries – Germany’s favourite food apparently. The chips were not as good as last night, I have to say. We met a delightful Irishman called Terry who was there with his grandson, both camping in tiny little tents close to ours. Terry, who is 84 and very spry, had come over with Callum in mid-May because Callum needed to learn German quickly for work and so this was the best way for him to do it – and probably the most economical as well. What a great thing for a grandad to do! (Tuesday 28 June: Landsberg am Lech – Augsburg 51.3kms / 144m climbed)
The forecast for the next day wasn’t great and I was anticipating a possible second night here, but in fact the expected overnight rain failed to materialise and the next day was cloudy but dry so we quickly packed up and headed on to Donauwürth on the Danube. It was a relatively short day and turned out to be an easy ride and very flat with not too many rough tracks. I don’t mind rough tracks at all, because German rough tracks are not terribly rough, but smooth tarmac is always preferable.
I wasn’t sure about the camping at Donauwürth. The only site I’d found was at a canoe club nicely situated on the river Wörnitz near where it meets the Danube, but on arrival there we saw a lone caravan parked at the end of a big grassy area by the clubhouse close to the river, and being the only sign of habitation we hoped we might obtain some info about camping there. The occupant turned out to be the chairman of the club who said we were most welcome to stay and led us towards the bits of paper we needed to complete for the registration process. It was all very efficient with the documents even in English as well as German. There were adequate facilities not to mention a very adequate machine dispensing various cold drinks including beer so I was a happy chap – I do like a cold beer at the end of a day‘s ride, particularly when the day is warm, although in fact today was OK and slightly cooler than previous days. (Wednesday 29 June: Augsburg – Donauwörth 43.9kms / 106m climbed)
When I was planning this trip I wanted to try and keep it as easy as possible, which meant sticking to cycle routes along river valleys where possible. We were now on the Danube but it didn’t go in the right direction for us, so we needed to make our way to another river heading in the right direction. The Romantic Road route, which we had been following for the past 2½ days and which I knew well having cycled it twice in the past, was a little hilly from now on since there wasn’t always a river for it to follow on its way north to Würzburg. I rather fancied cycling along the attractive sounding river Neckar; however to reach this river we would need to cross a lumpy region known as the Schwabian Alps, which are not exactly high – or alpine – but any kind of hill was too much with this load on board, as we had discovered over the past few days cycling. I’d plotted a route west to the Neckar which would take us about three days of relatively hard cycling but I decided to abandon this idea and let the train take the strain. I don’t find planning rail trips easy on a mobile phone and it turned out that we could have caught the train from Donauwörth but in fact we cycled the next day to Nördlingen, for some way following the river Wörnitz, and picked the same train up there – well I suppose it gave us some exercise!
The forecast again didn’t look particularly promising for the next day, but again it turned out better than expected. It’s a pretty ride to Nördlingen with the castle at Harburg looking splendid atop its hill. We did have a road closure to contend with but it didn’t cause as much bother as I thought it might. We reached Nördlingen by lunch time; it’s a lovely place with many pretty streets and houses. The church has a very tall tower, from the top of which you can see the surrounding countryside for miles around. The town is actually situated at the centre of a huge circle of low hills, created when a massive meteorite landed here many millions of years ago. It was a shame we couldn’t spend a little time there, but we’d been there before and walked route the old walls. Instead we enjoyed a drink and sandwich from a bakery before heading to the railway station to catch our train to Heilbronn.
Heilbronn is situated on the river Neckar which is about 130 kms west of where we were. To get there we would need to change trains twice and I was rather unsure as to whether we would be able to get there on the train. Cyclists we had spoken to had told us that, with the €9 deal that was being offered by Deutsche Bahn for the next three months, trains were packed and bikes were just being turned away.
Fortuitously, next to the railway station, we finally found a post office. The very helpful man behind the desk assisted us with sending some of the stuff we weren’t using home. I thought it pointless lugging extra stuff around that wasn’t going to be used, but it was going to be expensive. We had to pay €18 to send a 2 kg package back home. I really wanted to send more but the next price up was €30 and I thought that was getting a bit ridiculous.
By the time we got that all sorted and had dismantled the trailer and got ourselves primed for rail travel it was time to head to the station and buy our €9 ticket, which included bikes by the way, so no extra charge for them as there usually is. A last minute change of platform created a bit of a frenzy of activity but a nice Afghani lad came to our rescue and helped us down the stairs and up onto the next platform. And then minutes later the train rolled in. It was a mad rush as ever to climb on board, and it’s always a bit of a let-down when the train stays put for about seven or eight minutes before setting off again because you then realise you didn’t have to rush and cover yourself in a lather of sweat. The train wasn’t busy and we had no trouble getting everything on board for the first section of our journey to Aalen. We met some other cyclists on the first train, one of whom was going on to Stuttgart so we latched on to her since that was our next destination as well. There was a platform manoeuvre to be conducted but there were lifts which worked and so that hurdle was easily surmounted. The train to Stuttgart arrived and again it wasn’t busy so on we piled on and off we set for the longest section of the journey to Baden Württemberg‘s largest city.
Our train arrived late so it was panic stations to get to our next train. Stuttgart Station was really quite busy but we battled our way through the crowds and boarded a carriage that wasn’t too crowded with bikes for the final section of our journey. Again there was no problem getting on board so we both heaved a sigh of relief and sat down and relaxed for a while. The other cyclists in our chosen carriage were very helpful and made room for our enormous quantities of luggage. This section of the journey was pretty short. The weather wasn’t looking too clever either with a very ominous black cloud hanging over Stuttgart. We were actually heading for the station one stop beyond Heilbronn, called Neckarsulm, where our campsite was located.
When we arrived there it was raining, not hard, but enough to discourage us from setting off immediately – not that we wanted to – we both felt somewhat drained after our train journey but there was a café on the platform which Susan popped into to get something to eat and drink, not to mention use the station loo – the café had the key. Somewhat restored I reassembled the trailer and re-loaded all our luggage. At this point we were approached by a German on a bicycle asking what we were up to. When we told him we were looking for a campsite, he said he knew where one was and he would guide us there which was extremely nice of him. I didn’t actually have a purple line to follow here so his offer to help was doubly welcome. And it wasn’t a straightforward route either so luck, yet again, was on our side.
A couple of short fairly steep hills later and we found ourselves at a campsite where we were shown on to a small patch of grass right next to the facilities which was useful if a little ‘unscenic’, so we quickly set up the tent and settled in. The rain had stopped thankfully but more was forecast for later. If German forecasts so far were anything to go by, we didn’t need to worry!
Down the road a few hundred yards we were told there was a restaurant, which was part of a winery. It took a bit of finding but was well worth the effort: we enjoyed two absolutely delicious glasses of red wine – no beer available – and a very adequate meal before heading back to our sleeping bags. Back at the site we met Anna who was camping just next to us. She spoke perfect English so we had a good chat with her before hitting the sack. (Thursday 30 June: Donauwörth – Neckarsulm 36.2kms / 318m climbed + rail journey approx 165kms)
As it turned out a lot of rain fell in the night including some thunder and it was still raining when we woke up, so we had breakfast under a convenient canopy and hoped that it would clear up, which it did around lunchtime. Anna had left early on her electric, but extremely heavy bike, laden with so much stuff it was impossible to lift it off the ground. It turned into quite a nice afternoon and we managed to get down the river a fair way before stopping at Campingplatz Germania in a little village called Binau. It was quite a small campsite, situated right on the river, and really quite nice although our next door neighbours weren’t very friendly. We ate a modest meal of bits that we had because it was a way to go to get anything and we hadn’t passed anywhere all day except the Gasthof Ritter where we had a much-needed cup of coffee, about halfway through the afternoon. (Friday 1 July: Neckarsulm – Binau 36.4kms / 269m climbed)
Saturday dawned bright, beautiful and warm, and it would get warmer. After a quick breakfast we headed off bound, we hoped, for a campsite just before Heidelberg. The first thing that came along was a small town where thankfully we were able to stock up, the most important item being some more spiritus/methylated spirits because we were completely out. There was an Apoteke / chemist where we thought we would get some, and after some mild interrogation as to what we wanted it for and being eyed up and down quite carefully, we were sold a nice big litre bottle – nothing smaller sadly – for about 3½ euros. I’ll say one thing about using this method of cooking – it’s a lot cheaper than camping gas and actually it’s pretty efficient on the whole. After a quick coffee and sticky bun at the backerei we were off again, if somewhat reluctantly – it was going to be a hot day!
The route was pretty today with lots of tree cover and a few fairly rough tracks plus the occasional incline but generally it was flat as usual. There were one or two options and I didn’t exactly follow the Neckartal Radweg, or the purple line for that matter, but just stuck as close to the river as possible. There was a certain amount of main road work but there was a good strip along the side for cyclists so it was all perfectly okay. We met a pleasant and useful chap by the side of the track who had a little bike repairing business going and he spoke good English and gave us some advice about where to camp, saying there were three campsites up ahead but the best one was the last one called Camping Haide.
We took his word for it and continued, calling in on a Lidl in Neckargemünd for a few supplies before pulling into a lay-bye for lunch in the shade. We didn’t quite know where the campsite was but discovered shortly after our lunch that it was all of a further 200m down the road. A steep slope down to the site and we were soon registered and set up. The site, again situated on the side of the river but with no view of it, was nice enough but nothing special. Wi-Fi only by reception. It was a long narrow site as some of these are which abut the river.
It was here that we met a delightful German called Klaus and we camped next to each other and got on very well. Klaus lived in Munich and was on a long cycle tour having left his wife and daughters behind because they didn’t enjoy cycle camping – more fool them! (Saturday 2 July: Binau – (almost) Heidelberg 47.2kms / 308m climbed)
After a good night we headed off once again bound for Heidelberg which wasn’t long in appearing. Personally I was most disappointed with what I thought was going to be a truly delightful German town. In fact it really was nothing special and I don’t think anything like as pretty as some of the Bavarian towns we know and love on the Romantic Road. The fact that all these old towns generally still retain their cobbled streets doesn’t make cycling any easier either. We had a quick wander, I took a photo and we had a nice coffee and a sticky something before moving on. Perhaps I didn’t do the place justice and we should have explored more. But we had quite a long way to go today and didn’t really have time to hang around
It was a Sunday and there were hundreds of Germans out on their bikes. The nature of the ride changed here because, although we followed the river from time to time we had come out of the Neckar valley and the land was much more open and flat. It wasn’t unattractive but nothing to write home about. The next town we reached was Mannheim which is a very large industrial city and is also where the Neckar meets the Rhine. The sides of the river were occupied with endless industrial sites, oil refineries and the like.
We’d found nowhere to stop for refreshments for ages and, being Sunday, nowhere else was open. Eventually, just as we were about to leave the riverside and head for our next campsite town there was a Gasthof by the river. They were closed but agreed to sell us some drinks, rather expensive drinks it turned out, and one of the drinks wasn’t what we ordered, but we were so dehydrated and hot that I didn’t have the energy to complain and drank most of Susan’s drink too – beer of course, it should have been a Radler.
The next thing we had to do was cross a small river on a wee chain ferry which was rather fun and then it was probably about 7 or 8kms to Lampertheim and our next campsite.
This was one of the campsites that I had plotted the purple line right up to. It looked to be a nicely placed one but when I followed my magic line right to the end there was nothing there, just this dirt track leading down to I know not where. I told Susan to wait and I would go exploring, only to discover a campsite of sorts. There was no sign, there was no reception, there was just a collection of fairly old looking caravans spread along a track which stretched probably a couple of hundred yards or so. There was no one around so I wandered first one way and then back down the other way and eventually came upon several people chatting by the side of the track. On asking if this was a campsite where one could stay, a woman appeared out of a caravan door and spoke to me in very good English. She told me that the facilities weren’t up to much: there were no showers, there were two drop toilets and there was no drinkable water on site. The cost per night would be €3. I said I would go and consult with my good lady and she might see us in a short while, but then again she might not.
I think I already knew the answer when I returned up the track to find a very hot and tired looking Susan patiently waiting for me. I told her the bad news and she reacted in the anticipated fashion. So what to do? I suggested we returned to a restaurant that we had recently passed and get some food inside us, after which we should be in a position to think a bit more clearly about our next move. The meal turned out to be delicious, if pricey as usual, and we decided, since there were no other campsites around these parts, to head for the nearest hotel that we could find. In this respect we were very fortunate because we found a relatively cheap hotel within a mile of where we were.
We booked and paid for it on booking.com and went on to have a most enjoyable night, although the only fly in the ointment really was the difficulty we had in actually getting into the hotel in the first place – the front door was locked and there were no staff present. Fortunately a nice German couple helped us out and so we were in. In addition to the room being very much more comfortable than our tent, the breakfast was even better than our normal one too, so we left the next morning in very good spirits. (Sunday 3 July: Heidelberg – Lampertheim 58.2kms / 205m climbed)
A few kilometres down the river – the Rhine now of course – found us in Worms. Now there’s a name to conjure with. There was a very impressive looking red brick church with a tower on each corner but it was a little way away and so we – I – decided to ignore it as I do most things that are not right on the route. We did however meet an Irish guy when we stopped to have a quick break. He was a friendly chap and was wearing an Alp d’Huez T-shirt, meaning he was probably a cyclist. Yes, I was right and so we had a good chat about cycling and other stuff and then went over to his campervan which was parked in one of those occasional places where camper vans are allowed to rest up for the night for a small fee, and met his wife who was equally nice. It was yet another lovely, if brief, encounter. He even took a photo of us which you can see at the top of the blog.
Our night stop was in Mainz, a big German town. We had to cross to the east side of the river to reach Camping Bleiau. For some reason the satnav was playing up so we had a bit of a struggle finding the site but find it we did eventually. Again it was an attractive site with a small area given over to small tents, most of whom were as usual occupied by cycle campers – it’s such a joy to see so many people cycle camping. There were also refreshments on site – always a bonus after a long hot day. It was here that we met the delightful Hans who was an old geezer who spoke moderate English and was cycling on his own down to Heidelberg to visit his newly born grandson. We said we were going to eat at the next-door restaurant and might see him there. He turned up a bit later and we all ate a very poor, if jolly, meal together. Susan risked a currywürst for the first (and last) time and regretted it immediately. I ate mine and Hans had a kartoffel salad with a würst (sausage) of some kind and commented that the salad was awful. I’d been drinking Weissbier as usual but joined him in a glass of Sauvignon blanc from the local region which went down extremely well. Susan had a couple of local cocktails which made her forget temporarily about the Currywurst. We ended up going to bed later then intended but feeling very jolly and had a good night. (Monday 4 July: Lampertheim – Mainz 70.1kms / 230m climbed)
In the morning we woke to find Hans packing up his tent quite early. After fond farewells, we ate a quick breakfast and headed off. The route was back over the river to the west side again. At this point the Rhine narrows as it enters the Rhine Gorge. Castles adorn the tops of the hills on either side and the railway, road and cycleway are all close together for many long kilometres. Campsites were more plentiful on this stretch which made life a little easier. I wanted to stick to our itinerary, such as it was, and was hoping that we would reach Oberwesel that day. We did and found a small, reasonably-equipped in-the-ablution-block-department, campsite – Camping Schönburgblick. Apart from the noise of freight trains that rumbled by throughout the night on both sides of the river, it was an idyllic spot and we had a magnificent view out over the river from our camping pitch which was right on the edge. And so another night passed contentedly. (Tuesday 5 July: Mainz – Oberwesel 60.2kms/ 240m climbed)
The next morning we continued north along the usual pretty riverside cycle paths which were as perfect as cycle paths could ever be, stopping briefly at the very pretty village of Bacharach, where we picked up some cash. One thing that was not expected, but which was in plentiful supply, was the wind which was blowing down the gorge from the north and we were heading most of the time directly into it. It made for hard work and would remain with us for the remainder of our journey.
Our destination today, I hoped, would be Koblenz, which I’m glad to say we reached in good time, although finding Camping Knaus was, with no thanks to Google Maps, very much more difficult than it should have been. So after a tour of some less attractive parts of Koblenz we eventually found it situated in a magnificent position just over the river Mosel from the Deuchers Ecke, a famous German landmark located at the point where the Mosel meets the Rhine. The campsite was big and I was entertained, in the usual way, with the banter I had with reception when registering. Today the person behind the desk spoke perfect English with a perfect English accent, but he was actually Italian. I was amazed and told him so! The facilities here were fantastic and Susan took the opportunity of doing a wash in the washing machine. The weather has been much milder today and rather cloudy and we were expecting rain the next day so took the necessary precautions with the washing before turning in. I wandered over to a campervan with a British numberplate – a rare sight – and said hello and asked rather cheekily if I could charge my phone. They were so nice and said, of course, yes, and we fell into conversation. They had been coming here for years, knew the owner now, and paid a good price for a three month stay every year. Their grown up son who was with them enjoyed watching the boats on the Rhine and was very happy there so they just kept coming back. At home they lived in Neath. After that pleasant encounter, Susan and I went off to have a good meal at the restaurant on site and so were feeling pretty contented. We were on schedule and had reached a significant place on the journey having enjoyed a wonderful first ten days. Quite what we would do in the morning depended on the weather. (Wednesday 6 July: Oberwesel – Koblenz 50.3kms / 202m climbed)
The rain that was due to fall from about 6am. never materialised. However we were not prepared for an early start, believing we were going to have an enforced lie-in. It did eventually rain but not until about 9 o’clock at which point we resigned ourselves to sitting it out. I took the opportunity, the Wi-Fi not being too bad, of working out how long we might still have left of the holiday before returning to the UK. We did a bit of forward planning and decided, having looked at the prices of the ferries and the Premier Inn at Harwich, to leave the Hook on Sunday 17 July for a day crossing and then we would stay at the Premier Inn for a night before continuing onwards. That gave us another ten or so days to reach the Hook.
The rain stopped and quite quickly too – it was only a shower really – so we packed up and joined the cycle path along the Rhine which conveniently ran alongside the campsite. It wasn’t long however before we were forced inland owing to the industry alongside the river. More rain looked imminent as we passed a small roadside Imbiss (café) so we decided to have a coffee and let the shower pass. This worked well and it wasn’t long before we continued on our way in the dry.
We’d been having problems with Susan‘s rear tyre ever since the start of the ride home and I’d been needing to pump it up each morning. There was definitely a slow leak and I was surprised how long it managed to stay up before requiring some more air, particularly since, when I finally came to repair it, I found there were not one, but two small holes. And here was the place at which the tyre decided to deflate properly. We decided to jettison the inner and replace it with a new one, which turned out already to have one repair on it, but this lasted well – three days – before the dreaded pssss noise announced the presence of yet another puncture. I was beginning to think that the tyre itself was about to give up the ghost; I examined it carefully and there were definitely a small tear in the tread. I wasn’t sure how long the tyre would last at all. A new innertube was installed and we continued hoping for the best, and also hoping to find a bike shop that might have a suitable replacement tyre. It was another day – and still no bike shop – before there was a rather nasty bang which surprisingly only caused a very small hole. This time I fitted a sleeve over the tear after repairing the tube and we are currently surviving on this repair which seems to be holding up – it’s lasted a whole day so far. That said, we found a massive and magnificent cycle shop in Bonn, which we passed through yesterday, but I decided not to fit our new Schwalbe Marathon Plus tyre until the it goes down again. I knew for sure that the new tyre was going to be a nightmare to fit – the old thin one was bad enough to get back on the rim but a new Marathon Plus…
Anyway, I digress slightly, because we haven’t yet quite got to that point yet. We continued riding north from Koblenz into the now customary headwind. Conditions were much cooler for the second day running which made life a lot easier for Susan. In fact I was riding with two layers on, a cycling top and a windproof. The weather was OK but we did get the occasional drip descending from above. We were headed for Remagen, whose bridge is famous from WWII but we wouldn’t get to that until the next day. Before that we had to negotiate our way around the town of Remagen where there had been a serious flood a year ago bringing down several bridges. According to someone we spoke to, it was going to take 10 years to completely rebuild the infrastructure that was destroyed. In the meantime we had to somehow find our way round the blockage by going inland for a kilometre and then out again. The signposting was completely useless, and the cycle tracks weren’t brilliant either, but fortunately Google Maps saved the day on this occasion and we found our way over a bridge further inland.
Eventually finding our way back to the riverside we continued until we reached our campsite which turned out to be positively gigantic. After struggling to find the entrance we eventually succeeded, checked in, and found a nice spot to camp. The facilities here were outstanding in every way – I don’t think I’ve ever been on a campsite with better. It was brilliant hearing good English pop music playing in the shower block, particularly since the sound quality wasn’t bad at all. There was even a water feature. (Thursday 7 July: Koblenz – Remagen 49kms / 191m climbing)
Another day and off we set. I had literally just commented on what a perfect day it was before there was a sharp hiss and down went Susan’s rear tyre yet again. It happened just when we were passing under what remained of the old Remagen bridge.
Duly repaired as described above we continued hoping the tyre wouldn’t give out before being able to find a new one which, as I said, was eventually found in Bonn, the next large town we would come to. The weather had improved, the wind had died down somewhat and it turned out to be a much easier day. We seemed to reach the Stadt Köln campsite in Cologne comparatively quickly; for a change it was situated before the centre of town rather than after; and neither did we have any trouble locating the campsite which also made a pleasant change. We ate again at the campsite although I can remember nothing of the experience, so perhaps we didn’t but instead had soup and stuff. What I do remember is meeting several delightful people: firstly there was a German family, Sebastien and Swantje, and their two teenage kids from Bielefeld: Sebastien had the most enormous trailer carrying practically everything and completely dwarfing my pathetic load. And then there were young Melvin and Roy from Friesland in Holland on a road trip. (Friday 8 July: Remagen – Cologne 54.4kms / 326m climbing)
Cologne was like any big city really: heaving with people with lots of shops and sadly not too many impressive buildings apart from the cathedral. I suppose we bombed most of the old stuff 75 years ago. We spent some time people watching and drinking a coffee after walking our bikes through a large square which was currently occupied by a Hari Krishna crowd. Then we walked our bikes to the front of the amazing cathedral to admire it for a while. We took turns to go inside, the other looking after the bikes but we didn’t hang about for long.
We quickly found our way back to the Riverside and continued our journey which was pretty uneventful. There was a lot of industry and yet more massive refineries, not to mention a very large Ford production plant. We were fortunate enough to spot an Aldi as we passed through Dormagen. It would be Sunday tomorrow and all the shops are closed, leaving only restaurants to eat in and we were attempting to be fairly frugal – it’s so expensive eating out. So we bought plenty of food for two evening meals and a snack for lunchtime.
We reached a point where we could either cross the river on a little ferry to a campsite close by or go several extra miles on to another. We decided on the latter but it actually proved to be further away than expected but we reached it eventually after passing a very crowded field of sheep right by the river which was rather fun to watch.
Campingplatz Fährhaus Pitt-Jupp proved to be considerably less sensational than our last two sites. For a start the shower block was miles away from the camping spot and they weren’t up to much either. We even had to provide our own loo paper! Nevertheless, we enjoyed a beer at the Gasthof / reception and had a good meal from our recently purchased provisions before having a relatively early night for a change. (Saturday 9 July: Cologne – Grind 36.9kms / 189m climbing)
A brief spell of lovely warm sunshine greeted our return to the world of wakefulness at 7:30 but unfortunately cloud soon arrived and it became distinctly chilly. We shared our substantial breakfast, including yoghurt and hard-boiled eggs not to mention marmalade butties and muesli, with half the wasp population of Germany – I do hope there won’t be a plague of the pesky creatures. Also of note is the fact that our two lovely Aldi apple turnovers had been chewed on in the night by we know not whom or what, but we certainly didn’t fancy finishing off the remains. However, miracle of miracles, not long after returning to the magic purple line, we found a lovely bakery and coffee shop open – on a Sunday! – which we made full use of, and from whom we replaced the aforementioned purloined items.
And so the ride continued, on many occasions down very long straight cycle paths, reminiscent of those awful long straight roads just north of Susan in Lincolnshire. I thought we were covering a lot of kilometres but maybe I was mistaken – it just seemed like we were covering a lot. We were lucky enough to find another place open at around lunchtime, so rather than eat our rolls which we bought yesterday, we nipped in for a quick KFC which actually was rather delicious, but very naughty. But we could have gone to the Macdonald’s next door which would have been even naughtier!
The route seemed to go on and on. The weather had been slightly drizzly but not really enough to wet the roads. It wasn’t particularly warm and I wore my windproof all day. We reached Viersen – perhaps the last place of any size we would pass through in Germany – and thought it about time we started looking for a campsite. We used Google Maps to search for one and came across one about 40 minutes away according to Google’s timing – I have no idea about whether Google’s timing is accurate or not. Anyway we went for it; it was off the purple line route so we used Google Maps to take us there, which it did successfully, despite taking us up the biggest hill we’d encountered since Bavaria! It was long rather than steep but still very hard work – and we must be relatively fit by now. It really did bring home once and for all the fact that towing this load on a Bike Friday is not really on for anything other than flat cycle routes. Still I’d somehow managed it in Ireland a few years ago – there’s another blog about that trip.
We were both a bit shattered by this time and it proved to be a hard 40 minutes. We arrived at this place which was really noisy, with about five hundred German families playing on a very sophisticated looking mini -golf course, with lights and all manner of exciting things to get your balls into. Most of them seemed to be shouting at the top of their voices. Next door was a well frequented beer garden. We saw a small area of caravans to our right but no obvious entrance. At this point two cycle tourists arrived and clearly looked like they were looking for a campsite as well. We decided to follow them when they headed up the road a little to what turned out to be a restaurant. We said hallo and asked if they were looking for a campsite to which they replied, yes, so we latched onto them. The restaurant had nothing to do with the camping but we were pointed down the road and to the right where we then went. We found the entrance but it wasn’t really a campsite, it was a rather unattractive stone building with notices in Dutch, which our friends fortunately were able to read – they were from Arnhem and on their way to cycle to the south of France. The notice clearly said no tents.
This was rather a disappointment because we would have liked to have stopped peddling but we couldn’t, we had to continue. A quick search on Google Maps revealed several campsites further north and about five or 6 miles away – another 30 to 40 minutes ride according to Google. I picked one at random and got Google Maps to take us there. This time, we were lucky and found ourselves at Camping de Krosselt at a place called Veldon, just north of Venlo. We got a good pitch and for the first time for a long time, it was peaceful and quiet and we were the only people camping there. The ablutions could have been better but they were quite adequate. Perhaps the only downside was that this was more of a holiday village and we were partially surrounded by little chalet-like buildings again – not sign of a tent or cycle camper or traveller of any sort here! Despite it having been a long day, we arrived before six and it wasn’t long before we were set up and showered. The people in the caravan next door were about to depart and they gave us a massive amount of fruit pie which was absolutely delicious and completed our meal of tomato soup and ham rolls. They also lent us their comfortable chairs for the evening. It started out a good day, there were difficult moments but the end turned out to be great too and we actually listened to music that I brought on my little MP3 player for the first time this holiday. It was a lovely mild evening with the sky clearing slowly. Of course what I haven’t yet mentioned is that we are now in the Netherlands! (Sunday 10 July: Grind – Veldon (Venlo) 72.6kms / 264m climbing)
We’ve heard that it’s steaming in the UK but it isn’t here. It’s dull and a little drizzly, so I put on my light rain jacket for breakfast which was somewhat later than intended. We managed to get away by about 10.30 and then had to find our way back to the purple line which was achieved by navigating along fairly sandy forest tracks.
We were now on the Maas route which continued to run through forest for quite a few kilometres and was a bit different to the norm. We took an early coffee in Arcen and met a delightful family there. The husband was from Belfast, I’m not sure about his wife. They were with their two well-behaved children and we had a good chat before continuing on our way.
The route crossed the river three times on small ferries, one being a bicycle and foot passenger only ferry. Just before the second at Bitterswijk we had a really nice lunch in a riverside restaurant. I also managed to pick up a couple of geocaches – the first ones since Munich! The reason for this is that, with a new phone contract, I’m having to pay £2 a day for data which I’m slightly reluctant to do. I had to use data last night because there was no wifi so I have 24 hours in which to grab as many caches as I can.
The weather began to get a little warmer and I was feeling a little rough after lunch – I think I probably wasn’t drinking enough: if it isn’t hot I tend not to drink and I nearly filled my pee bottle last night so definitely needed to replace lost fluids! I don’t think the two cups of coffee at breakfast did much to help.
We reached the small town of Vierlingsbeek where a very nice man we met in the previous village told us there was at least three supermarkets. We needed to stock up on a few items. I wasn’t feeling much better and so we decided to head for the nearest campsite which was just the other side of the next village of Groeningen. So we plodded on for another kilometre before spying a campsite sign. The view from the road didn’t look promising, and I was hoping to find a mini camping off to the right but saw no signs, so we headed for the one off to the left which was called Camping de Bremboeken. We decided to take a look and on arriving at the entrance were greeted by the delightful Suzy who welcomed us with open arms. We were both so relieved to have arrived at a friendly campsite – very small – but with plenty of space. There is no shade here but the first thing we did was have a couple of beers in their little café while chatting to our hosts and a couple of other campers. It was really lovely to be here. The facilities are fine and it’s so peaceful and quiet, a bit like last night and not at all like Germany! We loved Germany but it’s still really nice to be back in Holland which seems to always have a sort of holiday atmosphere. We didn’t do many miles today but hopefully we’ll get a few more under our belts tomorrow. (Monday 11 July: Velden [Venlo] – Groeningen 47kms / 156m climbing)
Susan was up just before seven because it was going to be a hot day and we wanted to get some early miles in before the heat really got to us. It was an absolutely beautiful morning and we enjoyed a quick breakfast before packing up and heading off. Before very long we came to the town of Cuijk. We needed more Spiritus for the Trangia and also a cup of coffee. After searching a little we found this lovely bakery with tables outside so we splurged on various goodies before going to look for the spiritus which we found quite easily. Chemists don’t seem to stock it, neither do hardware stores but food supermarkets seem to have it – in amongst the cleaning products!
The magic purple line wiggled northwards on the Maas route and the weather continued to be lovely and we were making good time. We passed through the town of Grave and sat down to eat our lunchtime rolls.
Not too long afterwards I suppose you could say the inevitable happened and Susan‘s rear tyre started to deflate. The awful moment had arrived when I was going to have to fit the new tyre. This was confirmed when I inspected the old tyre and found a definite tear in it. Removing the innertube revealed that this was where the problem definitely lay and even the little canvas sleeve that I had put on had now worn through.
Remarkable good fortune was still accompanying us because, as I was struggling to fit the new tyre, a man came along with a baby in a papoose on his chest. He looked like any typical middle aged Dutchman so probably didn’t speak much, if any, English but as he came up to us he spoke in very good English and asked what was happening and I explained that we had this very tough new tyre to fit. He offered to help, commenting that he had strong hands and if necessary plenty of tools back down the road where he lived, I said I probably had everything I needed but thanked him for his offer of help and he continued strolling down the road with his little grandson. Not long after our friend returned back the way he came, by which time we were in the process of attempting to fit the new tyre which was proving a bit of a bugger. However our friendly Dutchman’s strong hands and my special tyre fitting tools combined managed to get the job done without too much of a gargantuan struggle. I think without this lovely Dutchman we would never have succeeded in fitting it – it was an absolute brute, as I knew it would be.
The afternoon was hot and, following the struggles with the tyre, I was in much need of some light refreshment, but nothing seemed to appear until we reached the little town of Megen where we found a café / restaurant right on our route. Much needed refreshment ordered, we looked on Google Maps for local campsites and discovered that there was one less than one minute’s ride away so, after finishing our drinks and chatting to a group of motorcyclists who had turned up shortly after us, we went in search of the campsite.
Well, it was so close I think we could have thrown a stone into it from where we were sitting in the café, so we overshot by several hundred metres before returning back the way we came and finding this sweet little camping spot just off the road and completely unsigned. Well done Google Maps! There seemed to be no one around but a woman clutching a baby to her chest soon appeared who turned out to be in temporary charge and, after showing us what there was, we decided we would stay there. It was a small site but very nice with absolutely brand-new facilities and not many people around so we happily settled in for yet another pleasant warm evening. Sadly we had very little food with us and the nearest supermarket was 2K away so we decided to use up what little we had which proved to be sufficient and so we went to bed with our stomachs full of gloopy tomato soup, bananas and some tasty Old Amsterdam cheese that been left by the slug we had found in the packaging the previous morning . We will need to replenish tomorrow! (Tuesday 12 July: Groeningen – Megen 58.9kms 198m climbing)
And replenish we did. We now had plenty of stores in and are camped in a beautiful natural terrain campsite next to an old part of the River Maas which we can’t actually see from our tent but it’s just there. The site is surrounded by trees and there are lots of chickens wandering around the campsite searching for scraps and being very nosy and it’s all rather nice. This is more than I can say for the day because we’ve been battling into a fairly fierce headwind all day along some relatively dull stretches of the Mass cycle route. We’ve had two small cups of coffee – cost €5 – and a couple of soft drinks – cost €6.50 – so I’m afraid it’s soup again tonight for the third night in a row but hey this is the life, it really is. I just love it. If only the wind would die down a bit, it would be perfect. The temperature is again very pleasant, and because our tent isn’t in the sun, it’s relatively cool. Nothing more really to say about today except that we’ve made reasonable progress considering, met some more nice people in the campsite and we are currently just across the river from Heusden at a campsite called Nederhemert Suid. (Wednesday 13 July: Megen – Bern 48kms)
Thursday 14 July. Today has been a joy from start to finish pretty much. The day dawned bright and beautiful with the sun shining on our tent. We had a short half-hour lie in from our usual 7 o’clock start but then had a quick breakfast together with our uninvited guests – the chickens. They really are such amusing creatures, the way they’re always pecking around. And tame? We were tickling the bottom of one of them while she was eating out of our hands. They really added to the fun of being at this lovely little campsite which we reluctantly left at 9:30. Just down the road was a wee ferry which could carry about two cars but plenty of bicycles. This brought us to a stretch – a long stretch – of cycle path which took us through a lovely bit of old Dutch ribbon development. The cycle path was on top of a low dike meaning that we were level with the upper story of many of the cute little horses that lined the road with their beautiful, well-kept gardens. The weather was so perfect and the cycling so easy – no headwind at the moment – that it really was one of the best sections of the trip in my memory. Some few kilometres down the road Susie suddenly suggested that coffee might be rather nice, and as if by magic, a nice little wayside restaurant/coffee place appeared on our right. A standard restaurant coffee is small in Holland and they still cost €2.50 a hit. I do wonder exactly how much we spend on these brief but much enjoyed stops that we have. And it adds up over the space of three weeks! We’ll do some sums when we get back and make some calculations – it should be rather interesting to see how much we’ve spent on supermarket food, meals out, casual drink stops et cetera. If we had the wherewithal to stop by the roadside and make our own mid-morning coffee, we would save at least a fiver a day but one would need to have the necessary equipment to hand And you would have to be very organised if it wasn’t going to be a bit of a palaver.
Not only did we see a myriad of little Dutch houses but we also passed through some lovely countryside too, which teemed with wildlife as well as the usual sheep and horses and cows and a few goats. Add in a couple more ferries, one large and the other tiny and rather fun, and you have a great morning ride.
We were both getting a bit peckish by the middle of the day but we had to press on to Werkendam in order to find something. There were some nice looking eateries there and decided to have a snack in one of them. We emerged €27 lighter and vowed not to do that again in a hurry.
We googled at lunch for a supermarket and found an Albert Heijn not far away. We like Albert Heijn because they do nice salads, but in fact we found that most supermarkets now do salad bowls which are really handy. They’re easily transportable and healthy. Budget supermarkets offer cheaper salads but they’re cheap for a reason: I call them ‘death by lettuce’ because there’s not much else in them. We found Jumbo supermarkets to be the most appealing in appearance and a wander round their air conditioned interior was a real treat in the middle of a hot day.
If tonight turned out to be another mini camping, then we would be self catering but I didn’t think even I was up for soup for a fourth night. So we bought some fresh mushroom ravioli to which we added a mushroom sauce and it was really nice.
First we had to endure a bit of wild open country. The wind had got up again too so it was a bit of a flog. I could see trees in the distance and guessed that was probably where our campsite would be. In fact, thanks in part to Google Maps screwing up, I overshot and we had to ride back a kilometre or two to reach what is in fact a very nice – but not as nice as the last few nights – campsite where we are now settled, conveniently close to the ablution block but there aren’t any views. If we wanted views we had to endure the wind which was a bit chilly this evening. Plus the Trangia cooker doesn’t work well if there’s a wind and our ravioli dinner required more cooking than our usual simple meals. Anyway the ravioli turned out well and we are now well fed and watered and ready for a relatively early night because it’s rather chilly this evening. Message to self: next time bring a windshield for the cooker. (Thursday 14 July: Bern – Naturkampingterrein de Knotwiig 41kms)
Discussions the previous day regarding the route and how long it would take to get to the Hook from here led to a change of plan as to where we would ride to. Having no magic purple line to follow would, I guessed, probably lead to navigational problems but these are never insurmountable, merely time consuming. I had worked out the route and noted the numbers of the Knoppunts we would need to ride past. I was aware that the map I had showing these was old and possibly the numbers had changed – they didn’t seem to tally with our route yesterday – but then I remembered I had a map of the Netherlands showing all the knoppunts on my phone which I’d uploaded on my last visit here. Being an App, I assumed that it would be kept up-to-date so I used this to plan the route rather than the paper map.
We had decided that we would rather avoid Rotterdam and remain rural for as long as we could. This meant heading west, as opposed to north west, and by-passing Dordrecht to the south, rather than to the north. I found a suitably placed campsite between where we were and Brielle, our penultimate destination, and this was where we were now heading for. A fairly long ferry crossing started the day in the company of our newfound friends, Christine and Rolf, who were planning on getting to the Hook today. He had an enormous trailer packed to the gunnels with food and stuff, but he also had a motor on his bike, and Christina was pretty fit. We skirted Dordrecht which is a big place, hardly noticing it was there, and found a nice place to have a coffee at s’Gravendeel not too long after. By good Fortune there was also a Jumbo supermarket nearby too so we were able to stock up for lunch with the usual salads and stuff.
We dawdled a bit over coffee and the supermarket visit so I was reluctant to stop until we had got a few more kilometres under our belts, and then of course it took a while before we found an unsuitable bench to sit on to eat our lunch, unsuitable because it was facing full into the sun. There was some cloud cover but it was still hot, so Susan took her meal on the hoof facing away from the glowing orb.
Lunch was good nevertheless and quickly consumed and off we set again. I can’t remember whether it was before lunch or after – before I rather think – that we were let down by the Knoppunt signage. We had to do a lot of faffing on two occasions trying to find the right route and this took up quite a lot of time and some back tracking which one hates to do. Some of the signs are mildly ambiguous and I’m certain that one or two were missing in vital places. Anyway we overcame the problem by using the Knoppunt map on my phone to get us out of trouble since we needed to change our route. We’d have been really stuck without it.
After what seemed an age we reached Oud Beijerland and I went to Google Maps to locate the campsite. It was only a short distance away. Unfortunately we took the cycle lane on the wrong side of the road and there was a barrier preventing us from turning left onto the road which would take us to the campsite. So we had to retrace a few hundred yards before crossing the road and going up the other side to eventually reach Camping de Kreek, but it didn’t look up to much. We searched around for a person to no avail and then saw a notice saying Geschlotten 18 Juni. I ended up knocking on the door of a small chalet-type house and an elderly woman came to the door and confirmed that the site was closed. Did she know of any other campsites? Yes, she thought there was one about 2 km further down the road. Off we went with our hearts in our mouths – well, at least mine was – If this one wasn’t open, then I’m not sure what we would have ended up doing. After making friends with a couple of goats along the way, we arrived at the new site and were greeted by the owner who seemed a pleasant chap. Yes, he said, he could accommodate us and after the usual formalities, he showed us the pitch available. It was a perfect pitch, no doubting that. When we went to inspect the shower block there really was nothing out of place. I don’t ever remember seeing washroom so clean or so well equipped, although Susan noted that there weren’t any paper towels to dry your hands on. But every basin had soap and a plug and hot water. The showers were lovely – and free. The charge for the night was €22. It was by far and away the best campsite we had stayed on during the whole trip – Camping Kriekenboogerd had surpassed even the one at Remagen!
We’d spent the best part of three weeks under canvas now and it’s interesting to reflect on the many and varied campsites that we’ve been on. It’s fair to say that almost every one has been unique in its own way. Generally facilities have been pretty good. Susan commented several times on the smell in the ladies showers and we had one site where they didn’t provide loo paper. I think the ones where we were camped right on the edge of either the Neckar or the Rhine were the most memorable sites for me. But towards the end of the trip we’d had some rather nice small campsites which made a big change from the bigger ones we used earlier, at Cologne and Mainz for example. (Friday 15 July: Naturkampingterrein de Knotwiig [5kms before Dordrecht] – Oud Beijerland 38kms)
Yet another beautiful morning dawned and we departed this lovely campsite at around ten hoping for an easy passage to Brielle. The route was actually very slightly complicated and we started by riding through Oud Beijerland with the intention of taking a ferry, not across the water but along the water, which sounded quite exciting – a boat trip would be nice. We got to the departure point but there were no signs, just a small jetty. The best thing to do in cases such as this is of course to ask people, and two ladies conveniently came along who quickly looked up the details for us on their mobile phone and said that there was a ferry coming at 11:30. It was now 11 o’clock so we only had half an hour to wait; and in fact the ferry turned up 15 minutes early. It was more a day trip boat than the usual type of ferry, but getting on board was simply a question of wheeling the bikes on and then we sat back to enjoy a 15 minute ride up the river – the Maas I presume – to the other side further downstream. Even more amazing was that it was free.
We pedalled the short way to Spijkenisse, which is a big town, and found a bakery, bought a few goodies and a cup of coffee each and then pedalled on. Again I wasn’t overly impressed with the Knoppunt signposting; generally it wasn’t bad but there were one or two places where a sign would have been useful. Anyway, it seemed like a long 22kms – in fact it was nearer 30 – and as ever we were peddling into a fierce headwind but we got there in the end and stopped at the first campsite we came across, made enquiries as to available spaces and yes, they had space. €17 for the night in this enormous campsite – I thought it would be more. Lots of people were lying around enjoying the sunshine. A small canal ran adjacent to one edge of the site and there were loads of boats going up and down, children swimming in the water and a general mood of festiveness. It was, after all, the beginning of the summer holidays and the weather was absolutely perfect for it.
We were put in a fairly cramped little space next to a couple of other tents and quickly made friends with one couple who had a dog and a child: their tent was quite big – definitely car camping. The other tent was occupied by two people on bicycles with a small tent but we never got beyond nodding acquaintance.
After setting up and showering we cycled into town to have a look around and decided to have fish and chips for supper – in fact we shared one because we weren’t overly hungry after our lunch. Brielle is a pretty place, within easy reach of both the Hook and Europort, so it’s a good starting point for a cycle tour. After dinner we did a final supermarket sweep in the local Albert Heijn to pick up supplies for the ferry journey next day – yes it was finally that time.
The restaurant on the site was kicking out some great live music which was great to listen to when we got back to the site. A relatively early bedtime and a final night under canvas was enjoyed. I shall miss tent living. (Saturday 16 July: Oud Beijerland – Brielle 29kms)
We got up at seven and had our final alfresco breakfast before heading off just after nine. All went well until Knoppunt 97, at which point the cycle path over an essential bridge was closed. An alternative route was not straightforward, neither were the diversion sign posts easy to understand, but after several false starts, and with some help from a local, we set off in the company of another couple with a similar problem, heading in the opposite direction to the one we actually wanted to take. 3 km later at least, and enclosed on all sides by refineries, massive tanks of unknown substances and all manner of other industrial paraphernalia, a cycle track led us north, then west to Rozenburg and then Maasluis where we made our final crossing of the river Maas on a ferry.
There was a ticket machine with lots of signs in Dutch and it all looked a bit complicated so we thought we’d pay on the ferry like one usually does. The ferry arrived – a big one – and we were told on boarding that we had to buy tickets before getting on. I, and the woman from the other couple who had been riding with us, dashed back to the ticket machine. Thank goodness she was okay with the language despite being Swiss, but we were still trying to extricate tickets from the goddam machine as the ferry set sail with our respective partners and four bikes on board, heading for the other side of the water whilst we looked on, stranded on the wrong side. In fact it was quite funny, and no real worry, because it was only about 15 minutes before the ferry was back on our side again and we gave up our tickets to the smiling crew member as we finally climbed aboard. Thank goodness we have allowed plenty of time to get to the Hook though, because that closed bridge really had us stumped for a while.
It was all very straightforward once over the other side and, reunited with our bikes and partners, we followed the river bank all the way to the Hook. Arriving at about 12 o’clock there was time to have a quick coffee before checking in.
The ‘Aferry’ website, from which I had purchased our tickets, doesn’t make allowance for purchasing tickets for two adults and two bikes, only one bike, so at the check-in we needed to pay for another bike – €4. There is definitely something wrong with the Aferry website but, as the check-in person commented, it’s far easier and better to book direct with Stena. My response was that she was quite right but it’s often quite difficult to actually find the right website rather than some pernicious interloper out to get their commission on ticket sales. I actually recall that when I did book these tickets the Stena line website was down so I didn’t actually have a lot of choice on this occasion.
The crossing was very pleasant, flat calm and we sat in comfy seats watching sport on two massive TV screens with no sound. It was all very relaxing. And so here we are back in Harwich at the end of our wonderful four week trip. (Sunday 17 July: Brielle – Hook of Holland 36Kms)
Total Distance ridden (approx) including in the UK – 1160 kms or 721 miles
This would be a very good trip for any enthusiastic cycle tourist to undertake, whether camping or staying in hotels. I hope this tale of our adventures also provides some useful info about cycle touring generally and what to consider when planning a trip. Happy travels!
Calculated Costs
As mentioned above, we totted up all our costs for the trip which you can see below. It might not be absolutely accurate but it gives a good indication of the costs involved in such a trip.
Passion Play tickets, including
2 nights accommodation,
2 breakfasts and 2 dinners £824
Other hotel accommodation £244
Campsites £338
Meals out £281
Snacks and coffees £216
Supermarket purchases £219
Rail fares £157
Ferry fares £270
TOTAL £2,549
Some more photos from the trip…
BikeRidesMW 
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