Quite near Trier

Dagnamit!

Sometimes you have a run of good days and they just go on and on. Sometimes you have a run of good days and they're followed by a stinker. And sometimes there is a rather awkward little blip that although easily fixed somewhat annoys you at the time. 

I'm choosing to see today as the latter. Basically, I'm an idiot. When preparing for this tour I had my bike booked in for a service. It didn't happen so I had to do the necessary bits myself. Whilst doing that I gave my touring tool box an overhaul, throwing out duplicates and checking I had everything I needed. Including the new pump I'd bought because this bike is presta valves and the one I'd found was not a presta pump. They did however look very similar. Can you see where this is going...? 

Cut to me, under a bridge, bike upside down, all bags off, sweating a bit, finding the tool bag and with one look I know - wrong pump. Now. I can fix the puncture. I can use the spare tube too but none of it is any use if I can't pump up the tyre.  

Luckily for me I'd spent a good chunk of my time fighting with Brexit to send stuff home so I hadn't got too far. I walked along to what might be a bike shop where the man assured me I did indeed have the right pump. He then demonstrated, and tried some other pumps. All very kind but considering how finicky presta valves are I suspect I'll also need a new tube. 

In the end they couldn't help so I pushed on to another shop he assured me was open - another hot sweaty treck back the way I had come - and found it closed. 

Nothing for it, I walked to a camp site, booked myself in for a couple of nights and enquired about buses to Trier. So I'm having another visit to the city, this time to check out its bike shop scene. 

Although this all sounds simple, but presta valves and 700c tubes are far from the default here so we wait with bated breath. 

Trier

Another good day, long may they continue.

I lounged around for a large chunk of the morning enjoying my air conditioning before heading out into the town by foot. That way I could have a good mooch and pop into places as I saw them. 

My first port of call was the Basilica of Constantine, it was once was the Roman Emperor’s audience hall and is the largest surviving room from Ancient Rome.  There is little interior decoration, much of it not replaced after war time air raids. 

My next stop was the birthplace of Karl

Marx, a figure who quite literally looms large in my household. He didn't spend much time here but after his death it served as a meeting place and focal point for the international socialist movement. The museum offers a wealth of information, not only about the life of Marx but also contextualising how his work has been used since his death.  

Carrying on, I found the Trierer Dom, the oldest Cathedral in Germany and another UNESCO heritage site. The Dom houses Christ's seamless robe, the one he was wearing before his crucifixion and the one the soldiers cast lots for (a fact that stays with me from Sunday school, I think I may have been quite fascinated by all these things decided by what I viewed as dice) It is seen now as a symbol of the undivided church. 

The next destination was very important - the book shop. I did loiter by the English section for a while - classics and contemporary literature sections were pushed aside by walls of romance and fantasy - but remembered the weight of my kindle compared to the weight of six books and so moved on. I left my map at home and the disorientation of following a route only on my phone has been driving me mad. I found the right section and after some confusion - you know the blocks on the back of OS maps that tell you what number you want? Not the case here, you seem to have to know the name area you are looking for. I found an appropriate map showing possible routes after Koblenz. 

After that I decided now was a good time to make use of said kindle so headed off for a meal.  I availed myself of Flammekueche, and washed it down with some local wine. I looked over at the Pirta Nigrea, another Roman building but the heat had ramped up and that air conditioning was calling my name. 

Trier

Some days are just good days. And this was one. 

Anticipating heat and buoyed on by my neighbours 6am start I headed off before nine. I stopped at a bakery and then set off on my merry way through the vineyards of Luxembourg. 

I stopped at a quiet spot to eat my bakery breakfast and then stopped later at Grevenmacher intending to have brunch. Despite it being market day cafes were mainly closed and those that were open only had tables in the by now too warm sunshine. I opted instead for a rather nice supermarket pizza and sat watching the water while I ate it. 

That was over half the ride, and 2 meals done well before noon. 

My next stop was Igel where I stopped to see a 23m tall funerary tower. Its stood in the same place for 1,800 years. Its builders were cloth merchants who made the Roman equivalent of waterproof fabric. I can only imagine the durability of their wears. 

Heading back to the river I paused at the foot bath - which I don't have much information about - but decided to stay dry footed and verruca free.

I crossed the river and back into Germany heading for my final waypoint, the Basilica Saint Matthias. There I found a deserted ornate abbey silent and open to visitors. I found my way down to the crypt that houses the remains of Saints Eucharius and Valerius. It also holds the remains of the apostle St Matthias.  Apparently Matthias replaced Judas, gaining his place through the casting of lots. Ending as these things do he was stoned almost to death before being beheaded. Interestingly his bones were discovered in 1127 when a new basilica was being built.  They had originally been bought to Trier 700 years earlier by Helen - mother of Constantine the Great.  

After that little sojourn I decided to chance my arm and try checking into the hotel early. Which worked. I've been charging power packs and devices but due to the hot weather (good drying time mean I can wash overnight - it's this technical information I know you come here to find) I've hardly had to do any washing. 

Now I'm opening a bottle of sparkling dry Riesling, because when in Trier... 

Remich

First of all, I'm absolutely fine. The spider bite has been successfully treated by magic savlon and I have not had to rebuff any odd suggestions.  I have however had no idea what country I've been in all day. It's been delightful.

I set off this morning safe in the knowledge that the sky would be wonderfully cloudy all day. That meant I felt happy to take my time. 

I had coffee, breakfast and packed up - a process that's getting more efficient every morning. It wasn't hard to find the route as the campsite overlooked it so I set off in my merry way. I cycled along for an hour before finding a shady spot to have brunch. 

The route changed from fields and power stations to vineyards and at some point from France to Luxembourg, maybe to Germany and maybe back again. 

My main stop for the day was the Schengen museum where I went to mourn Brexit. In a museum dedicated to freedom of movement - travelling, living, working across boarders - the idea to leave seems even more absurd. Brexit itself was never mentioned. 

I boarded the boat to see where the Schengen Agreement itself was signed. The art exhibition was paintings of defunct German border posts. The guide was very derisory, so much so that he hadn't bothered to put on the sound track because he found it boring. A fact the artists would no doubt be devastated by.  

After that the ride to the site was brief. It's got a special area for cyclists complete with gazebo and power. Almost uniquely in my cycling career there are two English people here. Explained perhaps by the fact that they are both expats.  

Tomorrow the heat will be ramping up again but I'll be in a hotel for a couple of nights so I can explore Trier, as well as charge my phone. 

Thionville

The first day along the Moselle was warm and relaxing. In the most part.

I set off later than planned as the next campsite didn't open until four. After a few turns I found the river path and rolled on. The river and canal run through factories and power stations. 

All was plain sailing until my first 'route barree' of the holiday. I can't decide if the frequency of these is a uniquely French thing but it feels like I encounter them on every ride. 

I followed the diversion around and back to the river. Meeting another cyclist I explained about the diversion and we chatted for a bit. I was confused when he asked me if I wanted to go off the path and for a walk in the woods because they are pretty. When he started talking about massages I bade him goodbye.  He might have been totally innocent in his suggestions but I'm not sure he'd have been making them to a bloke. 

That whole encounter annoyed me. To be clear I didn't feel threatened, the path is busy and he accepted my response but it still played on my mind for a while. I know it's not all men but it's always some. 

The rest of the ride was uneventful. Despite my best efforts, with lots of stops for road snacks and drinks, I arrived at the campsite by two and settled down to wait for the reception to open. I emailed yesterday to ask if they ever open early, they certainly don't. 

Just as I sat down I shot back up. Something with a bit of oomph behind it bit my armpit!  I'm fairly sure it was a spider that I grabbed and threw away, probably annoyed I'd put my arm back down on top of it. The bite stung and blistered but seems to have calmed down. That annoyed me too, a spider bite and no super powers?  Not fair! 

Finally the reception opened and I checked in. I pitched up then set about planning the next couple of legs. It was only then that I realised it was Saturday. So tomorrow is Sunday. I'd have enough food for tea but nothing for throughout the day and the shops would be closed. 

Rather than going by bike I wandered along to the supermarket by foot, enjoying a look around when it was a little cooler. Now I'm back. I've had a very nice tea and I'm about to settle down with my book and a box of Chipsters. Forget the wine and cheese, they're my favourite French treat.

Metz

 Metz

Metz has been on my list for a while. I can't remember why. Maybe i read something, maybe I had planned to come here and changed routes. Maybe it's hazy memories of 90s alcopops. Who knows?  Whichever way it came to be on my list, it seems to have been worthy of its place. 

I started at the Cathedral. I spent my time wondering at the breathtakingly beautiful stained glass - 6,500m2 to be precise. It's like a gallery, details wherever you look. When the lights hits the windows the colour is everywhere. 

After spending far longer than I'd imagined I would staring at the glass I headed to the covered market. It's not quite the same as Ulverston, quite a few cafes, lots of fine meats and speciality cheeses. (Not that Ulverston doesn't have such things, just a slightly different product range.)

The final point on my tour was the Pompidou Centre. What a find that is.  Its main exhibition is a response by Maurizio Cattelan to the centre's collection. It took me a while to work out that he was The Banana guy.  The exhibition featured the great and the good of 20th Century art.  

Sold for millions, the artist didn't see a penny.

It always amazes me that I get to enjoy these things when it's quiet and as such I get to look properly. I don't think I've ever really seen Francis Bacon portraits before, here I could look really close up. They're amazing - I get it now. 

The next exhibition was Louise Nevelson - an artist I have a soft spot for. She's one of the first names I remember when I really started exploring.  Again, didn't disappoint. I knew her collages but hadn't seen her 'environments' before. 

Finally there was one more artist who is right up my street - Francois Morellet. Much as his work and concepts are something I'd like to stare at for hours, black on white with added neon doesn't do my eyes any good so I had a selective look around. The journey his work took is fascinating. 

It's hard sometimes to convey how much joy I get from days like today. I love discovering and re-finding things. I love that I can turn up at random places along a route I took a notion to do and find all these things that excite and intrigue me. I love knowing things at the end of the day that I didn't know at the beginning.  

That's what keeps me exploring.  It's why I love cycling, and the trains and boats to get to the cycling. The slower pace gives me the chance to discover things along the way and that's what I truly value. 

Metz

Amsterdam to Metz.  Lucky I like trains too. 

I packed up fairly rapidly when it looked like rain, took the little ferry across to the station and treated myself to breakfast. A little kerfuffle finding the lift but overall an easy start. 

I had a luxurious double seat all to myself for the whole journey to Koln. I knitted, listened to a book and dozed the journey away. Arriving a little over 20 minutes late to apologies in three languages I made my next connection with ease.

Switching from an ICE to a plain old IC the facilities weren't quite as luxuriant (although far easier to board). I spent the journey watching every single person be flummoxed by the toilet locks.  This train was delayed too. Lots of apologies in lots of languages and this time connection missed. 

I found an alternative route and made my way to the platform after first checking my ticket was good for such changes. 

I have a question for the good people of Luxembourg City: who does all the ironing?  I don't think I've ever been anywhere where - especially on a hot day - everyone looked so perfectly put together. Not a wrinkle, not a stain, perfect white shirts everywhere. Even the gym boys had their brand new trainers nestled on shiny black leather bags. No one was sweating. Everyone just looked very tidy. Obviously I stuck out like a sore thumb. 

Getting my scruffy self on the train to Metz I told a couple of kids to move their scooters out of the bike space. I can pull off commanding French only when stressed. I was impressed by his quick response and polite reply. It was only later when a distressed man came looking for his scooter that it became clear they had been working together to steal it. 

After that drama (well not much drama, the train and station were remarkably free of staff so I stood around for a bit then bade a polite goodbye.) A quick ride through the town and onto the site only half an hour late.  I've pitched up next to the river, had a very cold shower, found my insect spray and promised myself a long lie in tomorrow.