The Rains Finally Come

Saturday September 17
In Which the Rains Came (and the Luggage Left)

Logic would clearly advise that it would never be possible to cycle across Europe from Bruges to Budapest without getting at least several wet and/or cold days. Since we arrived in Europe over 3 weeks ago we have been blessed with fine and warm weather every single day. The utter perfection of it all was almost starting to get a little monotonous. although I never thought that I would actually look forward to a bad day.

The long awaited day finally arrived on our ride from Kelheim to Regensburg. I could hear the rain falling outside the window during the night and, by the time our alarm sounded in the morning, it had well and truly settled in to a steady downpour. This then gave us the chance to skip the sunscreen, don the wet weather gear we had bought with us and hope that the panniers were watertight.

A couple of our ladies tried their best to audition for the job of village idiot by visiting the local sports store and purchasing one of the owner's slowest selling items.

Carol and Gael emerged from the shop with bright red plastic tea cosies (which the shop owner had told them were "bike helmet covers"). The 10 Euros each that the ladies handed over must have surely sent the shop's profits skyward.

Thus decked out in rain jackets and silly red hats, our peloton rode out from Kelheim and headed along the Danube riverbank towards Regensburg. The ride was only going to be about 40 km in length and would have been a real doddle, if it hadn't been for the incessant rain. The gravel path was soon turned to soft mud which splashed up our legs every time we rode through a puddle (which was every few metres). The mud and slop from the path was soon spread liberally over all of us. But did we mind ? Of course not. We were actually enjoying ourselves immensely.

A short distance out of Kelheim we spotted our first huge "pyjama boat". It was cruising downstream, laden with idle tourists who had come from all over the world to spend their time eating and sleeping across Europe. I was amazed that, at 9.30 am in the morning, virtually all the drapes were drawn and the decks were completely empty. In true pyjama boat style, it was obvious that none of the passengers had yet crawled out of their beds. On the other hand we were riding our bikes through the mud, already soaked to the skin and having to pedal our own way down the river.

So who was having the most fun ? It wasn't even close. None of us would have swapped places for quids. This was exactly what we had come to do.
About this time, for no apparent reason, Dave had another of his rushes of blood and disappeared into the distance. We were happy to ride along at around 18 kph while he was no longer visible.

We continued in this fashion until we came to the town of Bad Abbach. In German tradition, this does not mean that the town is really bad, it just means that it once had a spa (or bath) there. It was time for morning tea, but still no sign of David. As we were discussing what to do, my phone rang. It was David wondering where we were. Where we were ??? It was he who had bolted, and we now found that he gone along the wrong path. We headed to the coffee shop while David rode back to meet us.

The day was also significant for another reason - it was Carol's birthday. So at every opportunity we made sure to sing the familiar Happy Birthday song.
This had become something of a tradition last year in France, and I could see no reason why the tradition should not be maintained. David finally rejoined us and we continued on our wet way.

We soon encountered a large bunch of riders, apparently from the Colombian cycling team since they all looked like Nairo Quintana. Our highly trained elite riders had no trouble in catching the South Americans and passing them with a dismissive wave of the hand. The kilometres were ticking by quickly and soon we were on the outskirts of Regensburg itself.

The final few kilometres into town followed the riverbank and gave a wonderful preview of the town itself. It was a pity that we could not see anything at all, due to wet glasses and eyeballs. Regensburg is regarded as one of the most picturesque towns in Germany. On a better day we would have stopped to admire the scenery, but by now our only thoughts were to reach the hotel.

Of course the problem was that we arrived at the hotel far too early, just in time to see the bolters group approach from the other side. We tramped into the lovely foyer of the Munchner Hof, leaving a trail of mud and water across the floor. I apologised to the staff and expected to be soundly chastised. You can imagine my surprise when they welcomed us to bring our bikes right through the foyer to the rear shed. (They were still cleaning up our mess an hour later).

Fortunately most of the rooms were available, even though our luggage had not yet arrived. We went to the rooms and kept warm as best we could till the luggage arrived. Around 2.30 pm the familiar van pulled up and started to unload the suitcases. I felt like I was standing at the luggage carousel at the airport, waiting for our familiar cases. My case was unloaded, but no sign of Maggie's. I asked the driver if there were any more. "No more", he said.

At that time I was reminded of the familiar words of Corporal Jones of the Dad's Army TV show. "Don't panic, DON'T PANIC". It was too late, Maggie was already panicking.

I rang the previous hotel and was told that the missing case had been left by the driver in the foyer. He must have had a bad day or been distracted, but now he would have to drive all the way back to Kelheim to retrieve the missing case. It eventually arrived safely about 2 hours later.

Unfortunately it still far too wet to explore the town. We are all hoping that the weather will improve in the morning and allow us a couple of hours to see something of its wonderful buildings.Okumaya devam et