Cycle Germany

Celia picked up some neckties

My first bike tour of my life took place in this wonderful country that we are now lazing about in. I rode from Berlin to Copenhagen, and I remember at the time thinking about how free I felt, and at the same time, feeling excited for the newness and strangeness of a foreign country. Following that trip, I more or less forgot about the exciting and invigorating new way to travel. I was still in college, so I suppose I can be forgiven for not being able to focus my interests.

Ever since my renewed interest, however, I have thought of that experience in Germany and Denmark as an ideal example of the fulfillment cycle touring brings. Not to mention that I have also kicked myself for so easily forgetting how much I liked travelling by bike. The particular feeling though, that I thought was produced by cycle touring in general, is actually the feeling of biking in Germany. It is great!

German cycle path tree tunnel

Germany falls perfectly in between the Netherlands and France in terms of cycle tour orienteering. France lacks anything remotely resembling a sign that contains instructions for a cyclist, while the Netherlands maintains a 3:1 bike signs to auto signs ratio. A single direction on a single street can contain as many as 5 separate pieces of information (cities, routes, train stations, other routes). We have concluded that the Netherlands has far too many bike paths for anyone but a local to enjoy. Furthermore, due to the enormous quantity of bikes and cyclists, bicycles are not special in the way that they can be in other places. Exhibit A is the fact that becuase there are so many cyclists on the road, you do not say hi to anyone, a practice which I enjoy in the States and elsewhere.

In between absence and superfluity of signage falls Germany, in which one can successfully follow a single series of signs between towns that are 10 to 20 km apart, and piece together a scenic and varied route that is not a single path, but a series of roads, paths, walkways, and bridges. It feels like a tour, not like a bike ride, and not like a maze. There is something extra special about riding on a road that is perfect for biking that is used infrequently by cars, and also infrequently by bikes (France certainly has plenty of these roads - nothing but love for France).

German dirt road (note the shirt designed to blend in with the road)

Germany has an excellent cycling infrastructure without an overwhelming cycling culture (we've heard similar things about Switzerland: both countries with reputations for doing things right the first time).

One last thing. Celia and I do not agree about everything related to touring, but we have been talking more and more about our appreciation for climbing and riding in mountains. Riding flat, I find, is boring, and also unmotivating. There are no goals to be met, other than the very intangible idea of distance traveled. We may get the chance to end our trip riding some small hills next to the Elbe river, on our way to Berlin. Celia's ankle is healing and we are taking another day in Bremen with our awesome host Torston, and his three oddball roommates.

Torston and Celia in the common hallway

Quote of the last few days:

Martin (Torston's roomie - thick German accent): Would... anyone... like some... tea?

Torston: How about we put some beer on instead? There should be some in the fridge.

Martin: Aha!

Runner up:

Celia and Jonathan arguing about what a mailman's vehicle is called: Postal mobile... mail truck... post car... mail van... post truck...

Martin, meanwhile (he happens to work part time as a mail man using a bike): ...monster truck... mail monster truck... ha ha... I vill ride over the houses (Godzilla gestures)... my job is much easier then... ha ha ha.... I look at the house - it explodes... everything explodes when you look at it......... I learn that from American movies...