A quiet day this one. Some touring days are full of events and adventures and mishaps; and some the miles just serenely pass by in a stream of pristine cycleways. Since at this point I had passed the trickiness and hilliness of the Thuringwald and Saale valley, and was now approaching the wide valley containing the Erfurt autobahn, this was all to the good. The cyclists I'd met on my first night in Germany had recommended heading for the autobahn, as the flattest route to the West. While they were sceptical I could make it in time, now I was in the zone I felt it was time to make hay while the sun shone.
And shone it did. I was up reasonably early and packed away my now joyously dry tent. The day was clear and bright, but not too hot. As I was about to leave (and put my keys back into the return box that had tantalized me yesterday), the kind lady that had let me into the bathroom the day before came over, wished me a good journey, and handed me some chocolate. This makes it the two days out of two where I've been given food to sustain me unbidden. Germany is alright by me.
I was soon wheeling back off through Bad Blankenberg, and looking for the route to the west. My course was pretty clear, following a signed cycleway along the Rinne valley, and then a little climbing over to the Ilm and the autobahn. At first I was on the road out of town, which was fortunately pretty quiet, but I was still glad to gain the separate bike path.
At Rottenbach I turned onto the backroads climbing up the hill to Paulinzella. This has a fairly impressive ruined abbey, which seems to be a regular music venue. After passing through the - extremely picturesque - village, the climbing became a bit more serious, though I wasn't really feeling it. I'm surprised looking back at the trace that it's a 200m climb. It was feeling hotter though.
More streets being dug up in Bad Blankenburg. Also features amazing Art Deco town hall.
As I came, rather gently, over the top and descended down towards Geilsdorf, I got a bit lost when crossing the highway 90, which was new enough not to be on my map. I briefly considered riding on it, as it would take me directly to the west, but thought better of it and found the back road that would take me to Stadtilm via Greisheim.
A hat! I *always* find a lost baseball cap, and considered it a good omen finding one so near the end of the tour. This went in my pannier to add to my collection.
I cut the corner through Stadtilm, and continued to follow the signed route out towards Arnstadt, which sits at the junction of the autobahns heading north-south (Erfurt - Würtzburg) and east-west (Dresden - Frankfurt). I figured Arnstadt would be a good place to pick up some lunch.
House in Stadtilm. Friedrich Fröbel was apparently the inventor of the kindergarten: He believed that "play is the highest expression of human development in childhood for it alone is the free expression of what is in the child's soul."
Cycle route following the shadow of the impressive raised highway. I see this a lot in Germany - the highways are lifted above the landscape, so causing much less despoilation of the scenery. They're quieter too.
Apart from ... these bastards! I hit one of these at speed and the shock was so great my map went flying out. Who though these were a good idea on a cycleway?
Arnstadt is a fairly work-a-day place, and I spent most of the time cutting through it avoiding loads of school children that had just dispersed around the streets, and trying, and failing to buy a sandwich as good as the one yesterday. I got a load more supplies, but left empty handed with the baked good.
Out of Arnstadt, my route continued to north and westward up towards the autobahn and the larger town of Gotha, which - even though the day was getting on - I wanted to get to before lunch. The first stop on the way was the village of Mühlberg. This place was remarkable for two reasons: one was its position next to an incongruous hillock of land, poking up from the flat valley and crowned with an impressive ruined schloss; the other being its status as the bratwürst capital of Germany (and it takes this seriously).
The ride to Mühlberg followed the flat valley, on a dedicated cycleway which was full of a local cycling club out for a ride. They greeted me enthusiastically, as the odd little peak of the castle became more and more prominent.
I think this has something to do with the reintroduction of the wolves to the area. When I was telling my wild boar story to my new friends in the youth hostel, they immediately said: "could have been wolves. There are wolves all over Saxony, you know".
Until it loomed above the village. Coach trips: be sure to turn around for the bratwürst museum. Without looking at the next picture, can anyone guess what the brown thing sticking out of the blue roundabout sign is?
After this, I had to ride on the road a bit, past a continuation of the weird highground. Though it looks hilly over there, the going was actually pretty flat.
From here the autobahn 4 stretched out across the valley, and the cycleway follows it. Actually, I got a bit lost again at this point and didn't find the signed route, but since there was a cycleway directly next to the autobahn I just followed that. Not the most scenic route, but I was lapping up the kilometres. After a little while of this the route peels off towards Wechmar and Gotha, and I was relieved to see I could cross the autobahn fairly easily.
In Wechmar I spotted a Lidl and managed to buy myself a decent sandwich. The sun was beating down now and it was intensely hot. I had no desire to stop in the open fields and get further dehydrated or sunburnt, so even though I was getting pretty hungry and tired, and there was more than 70km on the clock, I plugged on.
I picked my way through the suburbs, finally following a rather rough off-road route into the back of Gotha. The path came out near a rather huge zoo, with the roads jammed with the cars of visitors on this sunny afternoon - but since it was shady and there was a low wall to sit on, I was happy to stop for lunch here.
Cycling alongside the autobahn. Eventually this goes all the way to Frankfurt (Main) - into the regions of last year's tour
I'd made really good progress, but the afternoon was wearing on and I was starting to feel the heat. Places to stay were rather thin on the ground in this open, populated farmland, so I set my sights on the town of Eisenach, which purported to have a youth hostel.
It would be another 30km, back to the autobahn (in truth coming up to Gotha was a bit of a dog-leg, a fairly clear example of the cycleway going a long way out of the way of the most direct route) and then through a series of not-particularly-descript villages before entering the hillier valley of the Hörsel which would lead to the town. Off-road and on, through towns, farmland and woods I plugged along, not registering a huge amount.
Strange industrial tower on the outskirts of Gotha
A Great War memorial. The ones I saw seemed to be quite unprominent and unfussy in Germany. I like that - I can't be doing with all the British "pro patria mori" stuff.
Steve Miller/Grampiesit might also have to do with being on the losing side . It is a lot harder to put up statues and plaques about how great the struggle was when your lot didn't win. Reply to this comment 4 years ago
After the 90th kilometre, I passed bask under the autobahn and entered the Hörsel valley at Sättelstadt. The route was well signed and followed a road parallel to the railway tracks, where it continually dipped and rose over what I assume were old earthworks.
The hills rise up at the entrance to the Hörsel valley
All this rather took it out of me, and it was with relief I rolled into Eisenach. This is a pretty sizable and touristic place, being the home of Martin Luther. The town was spread up the steep hillside, and the GPS indicated that the youth hostel did indeed exist, and was almost the whole way out of town up said hillside.
After pushing the Shift through the crowded centre - it was too tricky to cross the junctions through the snarled up traffic - I stoically started to climb up the hill. After a good 15 minutes and 100-odd metres of exhausted climbing, I was almost of town, and near where the GPS confirmed the hostel would be. And indeed, there was an inconspicuous sign to the Jugendherberge.
I pulled the bike up the steep drive and to the door of a rather rambling and run-down looking place. It was shut, but on ringing the bell I was greeted by a women who opened the door. It transpired she didn't speak English, and had no real interest in trying to meet me halfway with my floundering attempts. I've literally never seen anyone enjoy themselves more when telling someone there wasn't any space. As I looked sceptically around the deserted corridors, I tried imploring that I'd cycled over 100km in the heat, and I had a tent, but the harridan wouldn't budge and shut the door.
I sat down next to the bike, feeling a bit defeated - I was miles from anywhere to wild camp, and didn't particularly fancy heading back into town to find an expensive hotel. I resolved right then to ring the doorbell and relieve my feelings by telling her plainly that she was lying (she wouldn't understand, but I'd feel better). As she was coming to the door, I actually did see a bunch of guests behind her - and had second thoughts. Instead, I asked about other accommodation options. She let me know that there was another hostel further down - in fact I remembered passing it.
So - an odd place, and an odd experience. I'd avoid it if I were you if you're coming to Eisenach! Frankly, I think the ADFC should really tighten up the places they put on the map - if they aren't going to make a token effort to try to accommodate cyclists, and are a weird non-HI affiliated place anyway, then they're not really a youth hostel. Apart from anything, it's up a bastard of a hill.
I headed off back down the hill, looking for the old brewery where I had in fact seen a sign advertising rooms. I was feeling pretty drained now, and not really prepared for what would be the oddest check-in I think I've ever had. It was like the diametric opposite of the creepy hostel on the hill: everyone was life-affirmingly helpful, but it was just very complicated.
The hostel was around the back of the huge old brewery. I wheeled into the courtyard, and saw that the reception was locked. Bugger. But there was a sign with detailed instructions, and a rather complicated looking intercom and self-service machine.
I pressed the button on the intercom, and had a halting conversation with the receptionist. I think I spoke to two or three different people, as they switched to try to understand me and, it seems, to work their own system. Half way through, a chap on a road bike wheeled up, also looking for a room. He was German - cycling to Leipzig to meet a relative - but even with the native language there seemed to be significant confusion. Eventually they said: "go to the climbing centre ... talk to Magda ... she will check you in". Me and my new friend looked at each other in mystification. "The big tower ... the climbing centre".
Ah - there was indeed a big tower across the courtyard. So off we went, climbing up a fire-escape to get to the top. And inside it was indeed a climbing centre - big climbing walls and netting. Magda also only spoke a little English, and her job was really running the climbing centre (and, apparently, preparing meals for the small cafe there). She looked a little surprised to see us, but then got the drift and started the apparently long and involved process of telephoning to reserve our place. At every point she was incredibly patient and helpful, though it really was an epic experience of us giving our information, and getting a series of codes.
I opted to book a room for myself - I wanted to avoid a dorm after such a long day. Eventually I was issued a code for the machine - I would need to pay down there. After some messing with the code - it turned out, understandably, my name had been comically mangled, but I managed to guess it - I paid my €40 and was issued a room card. Success! I stashed the bike in the corridor, passing my road cyclist friend whose turn it was to do battle with the machine.
The room turned out to be massive - essentially a whole dorm to myself. I spread out and had a well-earned shower and rest.
My eventual accommodation at the Alte Brauerie. Stay here in Eisenach, it's great and is run by nice people.
After I'd freshened up, and had a bit of a lie-down, I went for a wonder around Eisenach and to look for somewhere to eat. It's really a very picturesque place, and I found a great Mediterranean restaurant, which was inexpensive and excellent. I felt a lot more warmly towards Eisenach eating good pizza in the cosy surroundings.
