Day 62: Sigmaringen to Munderkingen, Germany: Real villages

July 20, 2012

We tried to sleep through the kids from the kayak program trooping giggling to and from the showers late into the night. In the morning we said goodbye again to the Dutch family from Tuttlingen, who we had found again at this campsite. Once again they had scouted out the food store and showed us the ropes in general.

We got another view of Sigmaringen as we passed down the Donau, but we never did enter the town, except for our night out at the Kaufland.

The Donau had now done with passing through cliffs, and flowed calmly by low banks. The trail was sometimes right beside the river, and sometimes wandered away a bit, often returning to cross to the other side and wander there for a bit.

Pleasant towns came and went every 2-5 km. Most had a picturesque church, and yes, a bakery (or two). Other services, like a grocery store, never did make an easy appearance along the way. However there was the fairly major market town of Mengen. There, the shopping street was being torn up, presumably to improve it.

We managed to locate a sporting goods store and there bought two closed cell foam mats. Our self-inflating mats had been becoming worse and worse (more and more micro-leaks) until they were almost useless. Even though our battle toughened bodies can sleep on the hard ground, the heat loss actually makes it impossible.

We also bought some CampingGaz, which does not seem to be available in grocery stores here in Germany.

Nearby there was also a bike shop, where we looked for chain lube. The man only spoke German, and in any event did not seem to understand why I was babbling about wet and dry formulas, wax based, or not, etc. Oil is oil, at least in Mengen.

Towns continued to come and go, and were satisfying in that you could see them at a distance, get to them, and move on to the next one – probably spottable by its church steeple. We remarked on how in North America towns are often part of suburban sprawl, and how it is hard to feel an attachment to one small place. The national franchise businesses, like McDonalds and Best Buy also erase local identity.

As we pottered along, a lone cyclist came up from behind. It turned out to be Rene, from Zurich, on a trip to Budapest. With only two front bags, Rene was travelling extra light. However he pointed out that travelling light was not actually his goal. Rather he was just travelling normally, for here, staying at B&Bs, and eating out. We had actually already noticed that there are not so many “fully loaded” cyclists, and that B&Bs are far more numerous and easy to find than campsites.

With our North American backgrounds, we tend to regard a cycle trip as an expedition, where you need to prepare for various types of hardship. But for people from here, a cycle trip is just a normal outing, and a 30 day trip is 30 – day trips. You cycle around for a bit, visit some ruins or museums, and choose a readily available guesthouse to recharge for the next day.

The Grampies, in contrast, have rain pants, rain socks, extra batteries, batteries for the extra batteries, mosquito shirts, mosq uito spray (different strengths), spare bike parts, GPS, two telephones, maps covering 8000 km of trails, etc. etc. They did however leave the bear spray at home!

When we arrived at Munderkingen, we cycled to approximately where the map showed the campingplatz to be. We did spot a directional sign, but it lead to nothing, that we could see. So we approached a couple and asked for directions. As we have come to expect in small towns, they spoke only German, but we able to have us understand that it was a bit tricky to find the spot and that in any event it might be closed. In that case, the caretakers would need to be drummed up.

The couple decided to lead us to the place, and walked for about ½ km with us. As we approached a group of young men, our guide said (in German, but we are getting sort iof good at figuring it out) “Ah, youths, there is a good chance that a youth will speak English” “Hey, do any of you guys speak English? I have these travellers from England that are looking for the camping and I need to explain to them what the deal is”. Silence. “Come on, we can’t just leave them hanging out here!” Finally one of the teenagers graced us with a few words, explaining what we had already surmised about the caretaker”

So on we walked, and came to a group of middle aged women. Our guide gave the same into, and one of the ladies, bless her, whipped out her cell phone and called the man. Then she said in halting but adequate English – “he will meet you there in two minutes”.

Indeed, a man appeared on a bike and lead us to about a 10 acre site containing mowed grass, picnic tables, and a sanitary block with showers. He unlocked all the doors, showed us how stuff worked, collected 14 euros, and left us to it. Since it was raining, we cooked supper in the washroom, and this blog is coming to you from the toilet!

After some time a touring couple from Strasbourg appeared. No problem, they have the ladies and we have the mens!