Das Leben ist kein Honig lecken

That night I set the tent in a field, just outside of a small town directly on the Danube. I asked some of the locals if it would be alright to sleep there, and all said it would be fine. Initially I put the tent in the middle of the field, affording me a view of the river and the mountains. A fisherman soon turned up and advised me to move the tent near a cluster of trees for protection because a big storm was rolling in. It turned out to be good advice.

I had a collection of food in my pack – potatoes given to me by a farmer a few days before, spaghetti from Dieter, zucchini from the store – and it was all combined in the small pot to make a delicious dinner. 

Thereafter I sat by the river to watch the storm roll in. it approached quickly, dropping the temperature and sending the sweet smell of approaching rain along the river. The air felt heavy and fresh and imposing at the same time. The tent in which I was camping had failed gravely on one camping trip in the Alps two years prior. My father, nephew and I were motorbiking through the Alps and one night near Disentis the sky opened up in a downpour and the three of us in that tent could not have been wetter, had we jumped into a swimming pool fully dressed. Last year I waterproofed it but it had yet to prove itself in a real storm. Tonight would be the test. The cloud cover appeared as one big, think blanket of clouds but the lighting strikes in the far distance illuminated the distinct shapes of the individual clouds, making amazing light and dark patters in the sky. Although there was a good chance it would be a miserably wet night, the natural light show still made me smile.

The first raindrops sent me moving and I pulled a large plastic sheet out of one of the packs and pulled it over the bike and lashed it down. The storm had picked up strongly and the trees behind my tent were whipping around in the wind. Moments later I crawled into the tent and zipped the door. The lightning show continued on the roof of my tent. Since the batteries of my ipod and blackberry were out, this was my before-bed entertainment. I woke in the morning dry and rested. The storm had not bothered me at all.

When I woke it was still raining and I had no desire to pack my gear and tent in the rain, so while sitting inside the tent I set the camp stove just outside and heated the coffee the fisherman had given me the night before and which I had saved in a plastic bottle. Only a few hours later did the rain stop and I could begin spreading the gear out in the field to dry. All the time while doing so I had the feeling that someone would come from the village to either bring me coffee or to invite me for coffee. Somehow I knew it. Later a woman from the village came over and asked if I was alright. Apparently there had been talk in the village that some crazy bastard was sleeping in a tent during that horrendous storm. I had not even realized that it was that bad. Usually I have a very hard time sleeping through the night, but stormy nights seem to allow me to rest peacefully. Maybe the storms in my head that keep me up most nights are no match for Mother Nature, and my minds gives up tormenting me and lets me sleep peacefully.  

In any case, Marianne introduced herself and invited me in for coffee and breakfast. We sat down with her husband to a lovely, typical German breakfast. Marianne then actually did all my wash for me, dried and folded all my clothes. While my clothes were being brought back to human form after a week of sweating, I also was able to shower and even shave off my 8-day beard. Marianne and Ferdinand then made me a big picnic lunch to take with me, gave me their address, and I was on my way. Another case of exceptional and completely unexpected hospitality.

Today I spent only a few hours on the bike. About 30 kms into the ride I read a sign advertising Straubing as having the nicest old town in Bavaria. It lay 3.7 kms off the Danube trail but I was intrigued enough to make the detour. It was more than worth it, a truly amazing old town. If one were to remove the cars and some of the signs on the storefronts, it could be the 1600s. Since I was wrecked, needed to rest my muscles and also dedicate time to this blog, I took an inexpensive room in a bicycle-friendly hotel. The stay was great. I rested fully, wrote pages of this blog, explored the town and even went crazy on a dinner of Spätzle and dark Weizenbier. Rested and relaxed and with an overly stretched budget, I calculated the next day that I would have to make it to Bratislava on EUR 57.50.  

Next day I put in the kilometers and stopped late just short of Passau. I interrupted a woman working in the field and asked her if I could put a tent in the field. She offered me the barn, which I gladly accepted. It was a working barn, and thus dirty and full of flies (as I discovered later) but in case it rained, I would have greater protection, plus I would not have to pitch the tent. The town down the river, about 2 kms away, was putting on a summer festival with music and fireworks and from the barn I would have a perfect vantage point. She and I started talking and it turned out that one of her daughters and I both did master degrees at the same university at the same time. The daughter was in Business Communications and I was in the law faculty, so we did not know each other, but it was a surprising coincidence. We talked a lot and I thought for sure I was going to get another sleep-in-the-house offer, but no such luck. I was destined for the barn. The nice lady did bring me food, including a fresh salad and beer and I ate it while sitting on a rock and leaning against the outside of the barn and looking out over the wheat fields. It was a nice and memorable moment.

The music and firework show was good and I could see it very well form my temporary home. As it was concluding a natural light show started in the distance and quickly made its way down the river valley. When I fell asleep I had left the barn door wide open, as I was laying on the ground and watching the lightning flashes. At some point I was awoken by driving rain inside the barn and jumped up from my deep sleep to slide the barn door shut, then quickly back into my sleeping bag on the ground between the tractors. Again, the storm placated my worries and I slept very soundly until early morning.

As I prepared the bike for departure the nice lady came out and invited me to breakfast. We sat in her kitchen for at least an hour talking and drinking coffee. I also managed to eat a lot of the homemade preserves she had set out. She made me a lunch and I was on my way.  I wonder if I will find this kind of hospitality in other countries in which I don’t speak the language. Probably it will be harder.