August 31, 2022
Day 9: Eurovelo 15 - the Rhine river (source to sea)
Basel to Neuf-Brisach
After my day away from pedalling, I’ve finally reunited with my bike, Myrle. We've become remarkably close over the past couple of weeks, travelling together from Australia and now cycling the Rhine. Myrle is named after a human Myrle. I first met Myrle (the human) on a motorcycle ride in Myanmar when he was in his early 80s - although he seemed ageless to his travelling companions. His age did not stop his love of travel and adventure, which was very inspiring for me as I considered this trip. Myrle (not the bike) is a great person and someone I’m proud to call a friend.
I was off by 7:30 a.m. today, and my legs were quick to complain after a day off. I wove across the Rhine and then back until I had left Switzerland for the final time. I was now back in Germany. As I reached the halfway point on a bridge dividing both countries, I saw a tourist cruise boat for the first time - the type that tours up and down the navigable Rhine and the same tour my wife, Kathy, and I took when I was first inspired to ride the Rhine.
After riding through some back streets and then through parklands, the path changed to well-compacted gravel, and the number of riders and walkers decreased. Today’s ride would be quite flat all the way to my proposed stop at Neuf-Brisach. As usual, I’d get there and see how I was feeling, and maybe travelling on for another couple of hours.
At one point, I heard loud squawking noises coming from behind me and getting closer. Suddenly, a large flock of wild geese flew low directly over me. Magic! A couple of minutes later, a cyclist rode by, calling out “Bonjour!” I had arrived in the fifth country of my tour - I was in France!
“Bonjour!” I had this! Both "Hello" and "Thank You" were my standouts from 8th Grade French class at St. Mary’s College in Gunnedah. That was until, abruptly, after four lessons, my French teacher determined that I had no aptitude for foreign languages, let alone a classic like French. She sent me to Art class. I had no aptitude for Art either.
The ride continued on gravel forest tracks, following the Canal du Rhône au Rhin. The canal was gun-barrel straight for many kilometres, and therefore so was the road. It was many kilometres from the Rhine itself; in fact, there were a couple more canals between the Rhine and where I was riding. To give some variety, the route occasionally shifts from the right side to the left of the canal and back.
I found it really important to have at least two bottles of water on this leg, especially in summer. The route skirts towns, so it’s not easy to access water as it has been on the ride to date.
I was finally back on a bitumen pathway near the small village of Niffer, which runs alongside another canal, the Grand Canal d'Alsace ... getting closer to the Rhine again.
Just when I started to wonder if I’d reach some form of civilisation again, I turned onto a main road, although thankfully with little traffic (although one DHL van wanted to break land speed records as it whizzed past me). Finally, village life and sights! I enjoyed the long forest ride; however, it was getting a tad monotonous. I entered the wonderful French town of Blondelsheim. I loved this town because, within one hundred metres, I came to a patisserie.
Now, not only do the French love their food, but they also love their language. Anyone walking into a shop just speaking English … well, wars have been started for less. I’ve found the Swiss and Germans quite forgiving of English-speaking tourists launching into their native tongue. However, the French dutifully expect you to give their language a try. You will feel the wrath of the French shopkeeper if you don’t at least attempt it. So, before entering the patisserie, I studied a few quick sentences on Google Translate.
“Pardon, je suis Australien” (Excuse me, I am Australian) - I wanted them to know I’m Australian so they are prepared for my inevitable butchering of their beautiful language. I also wanted to assure them that I’m not English, with whom they have a love-hate relationship.
“Mon français est terrible” (My French is terrible) - again, a warning to them, but also just in case they are related to my Grade 8 French teacher.
“Un éclair au chocolat et un croissant au chocolat, s’il vous plaît” (One chocolate éclair and one chocolate croissant, please) - let's get down to business, and a reminder that I have manners!
Pastries and cakes have been my lifeline around mid-morning every day, so I’ve become a bit of a connoisseur. No one, absolutely no one, does pastries like the French. This patisserie was an Aladdin’s cave of delights. I limited myself to just two of those mouthwatering treats … I still had 9 km to go today. I also noticed how cheap food was compared to Switzerland (I had thought I might need to delay retirement for a year to pay my Swiss bills).
I now headed off on the final leg of the day. I’d already decided that 68 km would be enough. The day off had made me lazy! This stage took me through farmlands - mainly cornfields - and here you could see the effects of the current drought covering much of Europe. We're no strangers to droughts in Australia; they can devastate families and whole communities. In this case, near Blondelsheim, the corn cobs had not received enough moisture to grow. The kernels were small and shrivelled, unlikely to be useful even for stock feed.
The ride continued on well-formed bitumen paths all the way to Neuf-Brisach. This town is steeped in history, having been built in 1699 as a French fortress. Before checking in at the local campsite, I did a quick ride around the town and toured its historic fortifications.
The campsite, while basic, has incredibly good amenities dedicated just for tent dwellers. Mobile home and caravan travellers are sent off to a different part of the grounds with different amenities. Finally, respect for tent dwellers!
Before finishing for the evening, I took Myrle (the bike, not the human) to a nearby car wash and gave him a bath ... he loved the suds!
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