Passau

Wednesday September 21
In Which we Observe the Pajama People of Passau

"Do you think you should be going to Europe now ?"
"I would never go to such a place ever"
"I am too afraid to leave my front door, and you should be too"

And so the well meaning advice went when I told people that I was planning on cycling across Europe from Bruges to Budapest. Obviously the media had done a great job in convincing the masses that the whole of Europe was a seething cauldron of suicide bombers, millions of illegal immigrants everywhere you go, and every one of them determined to put a premature end to every Australian cyclist they see.

Now that we have been here for over four weeks, we have yet to see a single person that made us feel afraid

We have cycled for over a thousand kilometres across a large part of the continent and been amazed every single day at the quietness and tranquility of the place. The interactions we have had with locals have not been because they were trying to murder us, but because they were in awe of what we were doing and wanted to know all about it. If we had listened to all the well-intentioned advice that we received, we would all have missed out on one of the greatest adventures of our lives.

After the first twenty days of cycling, we reached the famous 3 rivers city of Passau. This region is regarded as one of the cradles of civilization and has been continuously inhabited for thousands of years. More recently, Passau has gained notoriety for an entirely different reason. This city is now one of the major centres of the exploding business of using huge boats to daily transport thousands of grey haired tourists along the rivers of Europe.

On our previous trips to Passau we watched the way these boats filled up with their cargos of passengers as they shuffled the short distance from the big tourist buses to their cabins, puffing and panting as they went. At that time I commented that, once on board, they could change into their pyjamas and stay that way for the entire cruise

Thus we christened these giant boats as "pyjama boats". The name has stuck ever since.

I have always loved to observe people and see how they go about their lives. It is not possible to spend any time in Passau without seeing these huge crowds of pajama people jostling for selfie taking positions in front of every decorated building. I quickly came to the conclusion that I would be more in danger of losing an eye on the end of someone's selfie stick, than being attacked by some crazed terrorist.

These pajama people wander the city in clumps, each clustered around their allocated tour leader and laughing on queue when the guide tells the same well rehearsed joke they have told hundreds of times before. After they shuffle around for an hour or so, they are herded back to their pens (sorry cabins) and then the boat moves to the next location so that they can do it all again. Of course the real die hard pajama people seldom venture beyond their cabins or the dining room. In that way they can eat and sleep the entire way around Europe.

Even after only few hours of such "sightseeing" I was already keen to get back on my bike and start riding again.

The more I do such travel, the more I am convinced that the "real Europe" does not consist of the crowded tourist hot spots, it is not the huge churches and museums, or the castles on the tops of hills. Although these places do give an appreciation for the depth of history, the real Europe is where the real people are. The farmer working his fields, the school children going to school, the mother teaching her 2 year old how to ride a bike, the old people sitting and chatting in the village square, the man sitting with a fishing pole by the river, or the shepherd using his dogs to control his sheep. I also love to watch the swans sliding across the water, the dog sitting obediently by their owner in the little cafe, the geese migrating south for the coming winter or the little squirrels running across the road in front of us. On the nearby hills the onset of autumn is already starting to change the colour pallet of the forests. In a few months these same hills will be blanketed in a carpet of snow and the cycle of life will continue to turn.

Yes, there is no doubt that Passau is an impressive place, but somehow I cannot escape the feeling that it has been a little too restored. The buildings are just a little too immaculate. I would not mind seeing even a little peeling paint or a cracked wall somewhere to remind us of just how old these buildings really are. Perhaps that is one of the differences between Germany and France. In France they don't seem to be afraid to show a little wear and tear on their historic buildings.

Tomorrow we resume our ride towards Budapest and early in the day we will be crossing the border in Austria, the fourth country we will be traversing on our journey. Our time on the German Danube is almost complete.Weiterlesen