Tuesday, June 22, 2010

To the Alps


From Worms it was a nice ride to Speyer. As I was castled and cathedraled out, a visit to the “Teknik” museum was in order. It housed a space shuttle, and many record breaking machines. Bikes (rally, GP and land speed record), Cars (too many to mention) Planes, far to many to many to mention all- from the largest prop plane, a modern passenger jet (747 maybe ) to the replica of the Wright Bros flying machine. It had anything else mechanical from the industrial revolution to present.
Fast plane

Fast bike

Next it was off to Stuttgart for the Porsche, Mercedes and art museum. But apparently Mondays are the day museum close. Disappointed, I headed off to a town dedicated to healing, health and leisure, Baden Baden. I wandered around the ruins of the old roman baths then off to the” modern” roman baths, “modern” in a relative sense, it was built in 1877. It was a strict no cloths policy so you had to shed your threads and go naked. It was a three hour affair of 17 timed sequential activities the traditional way. It included hot rooms of 68 deg and cold baths of 18 deg. Between where were soap and brush massages, cream services and the “relaxing room”.

Suitably relaxed it was then off to the Baden Baden youth orchestra concert for some Mozart and Bottesini.


The next day it was off towards the Black forest. A few days enjoying the riding in the black forest.


When crossing the boarder from Germany into Switzerland a cyclist stopped to talk. As it turned out she rode a motorbike from Switzerland to Darwin where she married a guy from Aus. We had a drink and swapped stories. Her house was decorated with Australiana, I even had a beer with a VB stubby cooler. After getting a few tips on the best roads and exploring the area for a day I was off to Basel. It was great to meet like minded motorcycle/travel enthusiast, thanks Katharine.

In Basel (blotzheim) I met up with Paul, a motorcycle rider. We rode along the French/Swiss boarder and up around the French German boarder along some old WW2 battle grounds. The weather was not so good with visibility on the high passes around 15m and raining.

 Roman ruins
 Paul, Me, France and Switzerland
 
 War memorial - France
Riding some passes in the clouds

From Basel to a village named Liestal, where the original Seilers originated from apparently. I headed over a pass called the Glaubenbergpass, most bitumen but some gravel. On top I was stopped by the Swiss army. The clouds had swallowed an army truck and taken it down into the abyss. The skid marks literally went over the edge and out of sight. A sober reminder of the perils of high passes in bad weather.

Seiler Street - It's a one way street 

Swiss Army watching over tiger


While waiting I had a coffee with some of the Swiss officers who complained of the boredom and tried to justify the soccer match they were playing on the rocky pad at the pass.


After an afternoon of rain and thick fog I arrived at Seelisberg - a small alpine village. I met up with Doug, Gwynn, Hazel and Peter. I Walked amongst the wild stawberries and rasberries and ate cheese produced by a local diary farmer/cheese maker sharing the Seiler surname.

Water being blown back up waterfall


The weather took a turn for the worst and it rained and snowed. It's ment to be Summer? I had to stay put for a few days in Seelisberg. Over the next few days I got to know the local “Tell” bar quite well. Mainly just for its warmth of course. On the first visit, unbeknownst to me I sat at the “stamm tisch” which is the area set aside for the locals. Slowly more and more men came at sat at my table with inquisitive stares. Once we established I was writing a record of my travels and not recording their conversation we got on just fine. We talked about the quality of Australian vs German beer, the days football matches and the weather before snorting snuff and drinking “Kaffee trash” a coffee schnapps beverage. (quite nice contrary to what the name suggests.)

Black sheep with bling

I did a few local passes and some day trips around the area before turning into an ice cube.

Then it was off into the Alps again.... cold Alps. Did a few more passes (Grinsell, Furka and Susten) and headed towards Mont Blanc. Its rather difficult to ride in snow


Tiger in the Alps

Me in the Alps

Roads in the Alps (below about 1500m)

Me trying to ride tiger on the snowy roads in the Alps

Coldness

Bike riders in the Alps






Saturday, June 5, 2010

Eel, wine and winding roads



Well this one day started on a mission to find some sox. It ended dining on locally hunted deer and drinking expensive French wine...

After meeting some friendly bikers and enjoying a coffee at a local cafe, we decided there was nothing better to do than go for a ride and enjoy the weather and local roads, seemingly made for bikes. After a stop to have coffee and cake at one of the guys mum’s place we were off into the villages and mountains, much similar to Mt Glorious but never-ending perfect roads.
 Many roads, castles, ferries, some smoked eel and the odd foot peg scrape against the bitumen later, we dropped into a small village. Dinner was gormet, deer (locally hunted by the chef and his colleagues of course) and white asparagus before heading to another village for a tipple of wine...



The wine house (for want of a better word) was found on foot, up a number of cobble stone alleys. We turned to blank ordinary timber door in an old building. One of the bikers (Richard) proclaims “here we are” or "this is it" or some such thing. Inside we find a room that may once have been a stable, barn or shed, with massive high ceilings and doors, lit only by candle light. A set of old stairs clearly out of place link this room with the rest of the building. Walls have partially exposed sandstone block with scattered whitewash clinging to higher parts of some walls. Some old French street signs hang on the walls. Paintings lean abandoned against the wall, some unfinished. In the corner a cabinet loaded with bottles of dusty wine stands modestly. Unaware of the value of its load.

This apparently is a place that only serves fine wine, mostly French, some German. The guy who runs the place is an arty wino who one day realised he will never drink all of his cellared wine and should share it with a few people, for a fee, mostly to chefs or fellow artists or musos. Only people in the know it seems. I think the owner just wanted us to have this particular wine so he could have a taste himself. I stepped out the door into reality and rode home wondering what had just happened that day.

 
The following days I gave some family friends some help on the farm, who kindly fed and housed me for over a week while waiting out some inclement weather. Thanks Thomas and Tanya. Was good seeing you again hope to see you before I head back.

We headed to a small village for a festival called schutzenfest. The festival has its origins as a time to prove which village has the best army; the tradition has lived on from the old days I think, but mainly just an excuse for a 3 day party and many beers.

After a good bye to the Voss family I was off to the Netherlands, First stop Alkmaar. After some high speeds on the autobahn (tiger is still protesting), I was in the wonderful land of dykes, cheese and windmills, that’s the type that keep out water.

Dali's treadly

After exploring the local galleries and streets of Alkmaar, it was south off to Amsterdam...


typical streets of Amsterdam
I saw the most unlucky guy in Amsterdam - a blind man in the red light district... He was tapping on the ground with his cane as much as those "ladies of the night" were tapping on their little windows willing anyone interested inside. There were plenty of pot cafes, porno shops and peep shows to stroll between whiles passively inhaling the smoke from someone else’s reefer, but otherwise not too exciting.

After a visit to the Van Gogh museum I was off south to Belgium. Had a stroll around the village of Bree then a quick visit to (Charleville in France). Under whelming to say the least. I decided to leave Charleville after almost being run over at a set of traffic lights by some crazy woman in a Reno Cleo (yes Brent women drive these). Not impressed. Sorry no post cards from Charleville-France.

remnamts of statues of famous guys, a book was written about the dude second from the end...
From here it was off to Trier, Germany. I stayed at a hostel where I met an Aussie guy from Bris. We went for a hike to a lookout which left us lost in the woods, doing cross country to get back to the hostel in time for check out. None the less it was good fun. To talk to someone without thinking and interpreting ever single word said was a relief. We had a look at roman baths and ruins then enjoyed the massive spaces and architecture of the cathedrals.


Next stop, the Moselle valley, famous for the Riesling. I rode up the Moselle amongst the vineyards, some of which are on 72° inclines running straight into the river. I enjoyed the offerings the villages had to offer – mostly wine, ice-cream or pastries (the staples of fruit, dairy and cereals). I camped at a lookout overlooking the moselle. Nice vista but noisy from the trains below.


The Valley is littered by Castles, complete or in ruins. If you weren’t looking at them on the surrounding hills, you were driving under them on the roads.

After heading North East along the Moselle, I headed south along the Rhine. Once again many castles scattered up on its steep banks.


After leaving the Rhine country side, the castles were replaced by nuclear power plant cooling towers and industrial buildings.


I took in a few synagogues and cathedrals in Worms, the grandeur and craftsmanship leaves one looking for words. Then it was off to a Jewish cemetery (the oldest in Germany apparently). The grave stones appear in no order, erratically crammed into the prime real-estate that is the cemetery. The pockmarks of bullets still scar scare some headstones telling a tale of yester year.