Day 5 - Salzburg, Austria

195 K - 120 Miles

Certainly not burning the road up, am I?  Fewer miles today because it's...what is it gang?  It's laundry day.  Unlike on my Spanish trip, I could actually find laundromats here.  And they are very, very clean, and well organized.  Of course, this is Germany, they have to be.  I was impressed, though.

By the time I got the laundry done, updated the blog, etc., it was right at check-out time, 12:00noon.  I checked out and wanted to see Dachau, the concentration camp located just 15 kilimoters from downtown.  (But they didn't know about it...right!)

Unfortunately, I couldn't get out and about to see the place like I'd like.  That's the problem when you take these trip on a bike, I have three bags with valuable stuff (at least to me) in them, sitting on the bike, and not enough room to store it all when I stop.  Depending on where I am and how things look I will often leave the tank bag and helmet on the bike, with my coat thrown over it.  This works right up until someone says, "Hey, that's a damn nice riding jacket, I want me one...hey, I think I want that one."  Most thefts of this kind are "opportunity" actuated.  A dishonest person sees the stuff, looks around and thinks, "what the hey?" I'm going for it.  That's the fear.

By the time I finally found a parking space along the street, and walked up toward the entrance, I was paranoid about leaving the stuff where it was.  About that time, three young men walked by on the other side of the street.  I continued on, then, when I looked back I saw they'd stopped and were obviously talking about Betsy.  One said something and they all took a step toward the bike until one looked my way and saw me watching them.  He said something and they turned and walked back to the other side of the road and continued away from the bike.   It didn't look very optimistic.  When I got to the area of the entrance I saw it appeared to be just a building with a lot of relics in it.  I'm sure it's full of pictures and history, but, then, so is the internet.  Biased toward not leaving Betsy alone with strange men around, I just blew it off and saddled up and rode on.

Country's getting prettier now.

 

My hotel for the evening.  I'm in the annex across the street.
Betsy's beautifying the street right now.










Looking to the right.  Behind that hill is the old town of Salzburg.  The one Mozart knew as a child and young man.

Just to the left after entering the old town area.

To the left the ubiquitous old church.

Lots of these running around the old town tonight.

Saw this interesting portal and, upon entering it, found this view.

This is what's different "over here."  Yes, we have some open air restaurants, but here, meeting in such a place happens everyday.  To me there's a sense of community, of belonging together, that I don't think we have in America.  Oh, we're all members of the community, but we do it from the driver's side...the drive through.   Another casualty of low priced fuel.

People actually walk over here.  It's neat...and amazing.

And, for the ladies.  Control yourselves girls.

Right!  Seize the day...and do it with our finger food.

Saw the movie

Saw this and thought, "Uh-oh, I have to rethink my meaning of that word."
Found out this morning it means jewelry.  So I don't have to rethink my meaning after all.

The guy on the right is playing the living daylights out of a little 4-string ukelele and singing well.  His accompaniment is blowing bass lines with a Digery Doo.  And, he could play it!

Yep.  Some money went in the hat.  I'm a real sucker for street musicians.  They put themselves out there, in (self-esteem) harm's way, and do their thing.  I gotta help when they're good.  When they're bad...let the marketplace tell 'em.

This is a very grand plaza.  Complete with yet another chapel/church.

Gotta be hard to carve marble while standing in a pool of water.

Hohensalzburg Castle
First construction - 1077 AD
Hohensalzburg_Castle

For those who have seen the movie, 'Amadeus' (1984).  This is the place where Mozart was chasing his future bride around the room and under the piano while waiting on his concert to begin.

In the plaza, beneath the castle, a ball with a statue of a man on it.  I have no idea why, or what they are trying to tell us.  But you gotta admit, it catches the eye.

And beneath?  Chess anyone?

Big doin's tonight!  Saw lots of fancy-dressed folks, black-tie and tail, going in for tonight's play.

Meanwhile, the cast "lights up" during break.

Can't help but wonder at the role of the guy on the right.

And...out the tunnel to modern Salzburg.

Saw this guy parked along our way.



If Betsy's a girl...this has to be Bob, or Bill.  I thought I saw her giving sideways glances.

Took her home and put her straight to bed.










Tomorrow, another change of plans.  My initial intention was to go to Vienna (Wien? now?).  But, checking the weather (on my handy dandy little iPad) I see that rain is predicted for the next three days along that line.  So, my choices are to turn south to the heat, or ride in the rain.  It's sort of a no-brainer...I'll go with the heat.  But...it means riding across the Alps in rainy weather.  Oh...decisions, decisions.

Meantime, Salzburg is a very neat town with plenty going on.  I'd have really liked to have caught the opera tonight.  I'm not an opera fan...except for Mozart.  I'm a BIG Mozart fan.  Dude wrote his first piece when he was five.  FIVE!!!  I was still learning to wave bye-bye at five!!  Oh well, we all have our own special talent.  I can't wait to find out what mine is.

Tomorrow?  A swim through the Alps?

Day 4 - Munich, Germany

252 K - 156 Miles

I managed to sleep all the way 'till 6:45am this morning. Must be getting old. Pulled out for my ancestral homeland about 8:15am. Needing some over-the-counter meds I went looking for a pharmacy. As is usually the case, when you don't want one you can't swing a dead cat and not hit one. But want one? Just see if you can find it. The girl at the checkout desk told me just to head toward downtown and I'd see one. I didn't, so I tried the old braincells. Where to find a pharmacy? Obvious answer, next to a hospital. So I searched on the Garmin for the nearest hospital and headed toward it. Isn't it great when you noodle something out and it works? Sure enough, about a block from the hospital I found the needed pharmacy. If it would have been open it would have been a triumph. As it was, it was just another French retail disappointment. Drug store not open for business at 8:30am on a Monday morning. American friends, how many 24/7 pharmacies are located near your house? Vowing not to worry about it, and burning daylight, I pulled out for the road.

As I stated, when you don't really need something it's magically there. I stopped for my morning coffee and, lo and behold, just around the corner was a pharmacy...and it was open. Be still my heart! I still haven't found the WD-40 I need, but one can't expect all prayers to be answered, can one?



Pulling out of the hotel this morning I ran into this rather pleasant surprise.










I had one of those fortuitous little bits of serendipity work for me this morning. Last night, remembering the fiasco over the Spanish/Portuguese maps on my last trip I decided to reload for the anticipated areas I would be needing over the next several days. I did and thinking I would be routed through Zurich, I queried for that city on the gps. It wasn't found! Ouch, again? Don't know, but, when I asked to be routed to the waypoint I'd set up for my "home place," I was surprised to see it route me through Germany, instead of down through Zurich. Pleasantly surprised. It was a great route. The country is just like that of the mountains of the American west. Sharp switchbacks, big sweeping turns along old river courses. Beautiful scenery. Great ride!

I know it's only farm fields.  But they beat parking lots and shopping malls all to hell and gone.

Some of those 'on the bike,' one-handing the camera, while trying to focus on one or the other (I forget which).








Nearing my destination, I passed this gorgeous lake with a small town adjacent. Just had to get some pictures of this place so I pulled into this neat little square. The entire place had this Hansel and Grettel feel. And then I saw the little fountain. Picture complete.

Neat little square downtown with parking adjacent.  the gentlemen in the picture were talking up a storm.  Though I couldn't understand them, I'm pretty sure it was politics.

This was the smaller of the two lakes I passed this morning.

 And, yes, it was a Hansel and Gretel theme.














Realizing there's nothing but a town there for me, and having no intention of looking for genealogical records in the courthouse or such, I'd promised myself I'd have lunch where the family "seat" probably once sat. There's a nice little restaurant next to the river upon crossing into the town, and, figuring my great X 5 grandfather probably, at one time or another, had lunch along the river, I decided that would at least do for me. You didn't think I was going to break a pick over this thing, did you?

 The entrance way to Diepoldsau, Switzerland, ancestral home of the Geiger's in the U.S.  Just to the right of this picture is a neat little restaurant where I had my "celebratory" lunch.

 I've always thought it kind of neat to know that you have shared a view, or some significant landmark with some historical personage, or, in this case, a long ago relative.  How many times did a relative of mine look up and see that distinctive notch in the mountain?  For that matter, I wonder if I have any seeing it today?






So...a nice lunch later, Betsy and I booked it down the highway heading for the first of what will be the first of several deviations to the original trip outline. Sprechen sie Deutch? Hallo Munchen. A fellow guitar-picker/motorcycle rider at work asked how could I come that close and not visit Munich.  Nicholas, you were right, so I didn't?

Coming out of Diepoldsau, I entered the St. Gotthard Tunnel, the 3rd longest in the world at 16 kilometers.  That's almost 10 miles for you U.S. folks.  It was certainly the longest tunnel I've ever been through.  By the time I got out of there I was giddy with carbon-monoxide, and ready to see sunlight.  But it was a neat engineering feat.

My new toy worked this time. Stopping at a McDonald's about fifteen kilometers out of Munich, I fired up the iPad and went hotel shopping. Of course, you know me, I always screw something up, and this was no exception. I forgot to update my credit card information with Orbitz after it was stolen in Rome. So, I tried to book the room with the old card number and was, thankfully declined.  Unfortunately, I fat-fingered the new card data on entry and was again, declined. When I finally got it right Orbitz gave me a message saying the bank refused to make a transaction on that card right now, and I was to call them. Giving my U.S. card, I managed to book the room.

After checking in and a "road" shower it was already. 8:00pm, but, undeterred, I headed into downtown Munich, only 1.8 miles away via tram. The lady at the desk had recommended The Augustiner restaurant at Karlsplatz near the center of town.  She also recommended their Helles Bier.  Both hit the spot perfectly.

 Managing to find the place in the middle of the madness that is Karlsplatz, I found myself in what was obviously one of the best places in Munich to eat. It was absolutely packed. A waiter pointed me toward this single table crammed between two sets of diners. Figuring it would be impossibly uncomfortable to sit between two groups like that, I looked around and saw a guy, like myself, alone, sitting at a table. Further, he looked like an American businessman. (Don't ask me how I knew that...you just know; and "they" do too.)

He was exactly what he appeared to be and, upon my asking if I could join him at his table, he cordially said "Yes."

Frank P. is a business consultant with Price, Waterhouse and was in town for a single meeting on a proposal. Commiserating with him because of all the like situations I've experienced, we struck up what turned out to be a very pleasant conversation, and enjoyed a great meal and good company together. Frank is from, and lives today, in Philadelphia with wife and three kids.   They appear to be living the American dream: family, good job, home, the standard things that make that so good. Good on him. He has quite a lot of experience living overseas, having spent several years in Europe with PWC. Our experiences as ex-pats are quite similar. Like me he found the French kind and helpful, and we agreed that it is one of the prettiest places on the planet. He speaks very highly of Brussels, having lived there for three years and, while it has some history, nice buildings, the usual attractions, it sounds like Nantes, just a great place to live and raise a family

In any event, it was an extremely pleasant evening, spent with a very nice guy, with great food and several of those excellent beers. I could do that, you know, I was on the tram. I'm really starting to like this public transportation thingy.

 Busy night at Karlsplatz

 Frank P., a hell of a nice guy

The roast pork with dumpling and "white cabbage salad" was remarkable.

 Returned to the hotel to find my driver's license was received by the mail forwarding company. That's the good news. The bad is that the timing is such I'll just have to try Slovenia and Croatia without it. I can't sit around waiting on FedEx planes and, judging from their shipping time estimates, I'd run that risk if I sent it to either of those countries. Makes sense. I'm not surprised to see that they just don't do a lot of business there. So, I've instructed the mail forwarder to send it into Fireze (that's Florence, Italy...where was I when they changed the name?). Keeping the fingers crossed, and heading toward the Slovak country soon.  Wish me luck.

Day 3 - Colmar, France

493 K - 306 Miles

Okay, I'm on a ride again.  How can I tell?  Easy...when I have to tip toe around the room while packing in order not to wake the rooster, I'm on a ride.  And that's how today started.  My eyes popped wide open at 5:00am, and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't go back to sleep.
So, I caught up with email and tried to check out iPad apps at the Apple store.  Couldn't do much there.  When I bought this thing the guy at the store told me about signing up with iTunes and making sure I registered with a credit card for the country I wished to do business in.  I understood that and signed up in the US with a US credit card (one that hasn't been stolen by gypsies).  So...imagine my surprise this morning when the iStore came up in Dutch or Belgium, or something incomprehensible to me.  When I queried about language, the page directed me to the iTunes app to change my language; from what, English to English? I registered in English.  I went back and verified that I registered in English.  So yet again, some technical weenie has decided it's neat to read the server and set the language without providing an intuitive way for the user (his *$#^ing CUSTOMER) to easily change and do bidness  with him.   (Bidness is an east Texas word. )   Okay...another road break consumed with my new technology, giving me the time to bitch while on the road.  What could I do if I had more apps? Could I possibly be more happy?

Finally loaded the bike up, if not the apps list, and pulled out for Bastogne about 7:30am.  Nice ride through more farm country, continually gaining altitude.  Arrived in Bastogne about 9:30am with a stop for gas and the inevitable "continental" breakfast.  Don't get me wrong, they're good.  But, hey Lucifer, a deal might be made for some fatback pork, grits, and homemade biscuits.



 Between Nivelles and Bastogne.  Nice rolling hill country.  Looks like Fredericksburg...not as hot.

In fact, threatening rain, I pulled over and added the jacket insert and the rain-pants and heavy gloves.  August 2nd and it's about 55° F.  Can you love this, or what???

 "Okay, so here's the deal.  You get to sit around on your butt all day, you get all the grain you can stand, free vet visits and any shot or vitamin you need.  The only price is I get to squeeze your tatas twice a day."
(Hmmm...sounds like a marriage proposal, doesn't it?  Well, at least for the first month.)


Bastogne was a disappointment, but make up for it...in spades.   Riding down to the historic center of the town I found the Citadel, a building much as one pictures the hospital maintained during the German siege of December 16-26, 1944.  It was sort of the center of activity, made even more famous by the Hanks/Spielberg production of 'Band of Brothers,' one of my all-time favorite military movies.  Since they were surrounded, and fighting mainly to block the five roads leading in and out of Bastogne that made it so valuable, it is difficult to pick "sites," the entire perimeter was a "site."  The problem, for me, is the museum was closed (it was 10:00am on a Monday...is this France?) so I don't know if the Citadel was the site of the hospital, or the church whose steeple I could see surrounded by the museum and another, modernized building, but which could not be accessed.

The Citadel.  If it's not the place...it certainly looks like the movie setting.

Another, old section of an old building just down the street from the Citadel.  See that church spire?
I never could access it.

"Around" back I find this building.  Now this looks to me like the real thing.  But I don't know..the bloody place is closed up tighter than a mother-in-law's heart.  And my friend Wikipedia isn't helping either.

More of the same structure.  A memorial.

Adjacent, a plaque honoring those who served, both overtly and secretly.

This, from the museum.  The top turret of a Sherman tank.   Unfortunately, there were plenty of these available for any museum that wanted one.  The German panzers, Tiger or Panther,  regularly knocked these tanks out during WWII.  The Yanks called them "purple heart boxes," and the Brits Sherman's coffins.  The only saving grace is we could produce so many we could keep them fighting.  The Sherman was not a place to be in a tank battle in WWII. 

 But, inside the museum I spied Betsy's great-great-grandfather.  And Indian, complete with suicide clutch and right-hand shift lever.  Wow!  Would I ever like to have one of these in working order.  Of course, it'd probably be worth $1M, another reason to want one.

Downtown Bastogne today.









I mentioned earlier that Bastogne was a disappointment, but made up for it.  They did.  At 10:30am the clock in the Citadel rang the half-hour.  The first six notes were the notes to the Star Spangled Banner.  All is forgiven.  Thanks, Bastogne.

Hit the road, heading southeast, then ran out of map (again?).  Yeah, but this time intentionally.  My original route called for a stay in Nancy (the city in France, smart ass), then straight up to Bastogne.   So I didn't load Luxembourg...but that's where Betsy took me.  She was determined to have a late, little lunch in Luxembourg.  I couldn't say no.

Betsy found this great little bistro in downtown Luxembourg.

From my table

Betsy, languidly lounging in Luxembourg, but watching everything I did. 

Lunch was the Three-Pasta Special; Spagetti, the ubiquitous Taggatelles Jambon et Fromage, and a Linguini with Pesto.  Too much, and too rich for this now "continental" eater.

But it was good.  Shall we say, "well sampled."

Pulled off at a toll area to check if my license had been received by my mail forwarder.  Neat stuff!  I can (as long as in France) key up a 3G connection, get on the internet and check the website.  Man, I thought that was neater'n hell.  

Down the road I realized that Monday at 2:00pm here is, like, 7:00am there and the mail hasn't ran since Saturday morning.  But, WTH, if it'd been there, I'd have known it!!!

Gassed up in this neat little town of Mutzig in the Alsace region of France.

Waiting on a fast train in downtown Mutzig

Lots of pretty houses, all set off with great flowers

Through Mutzig on Betsy

I was riding along pretty good, thinking I might make Zurich late this afternoon, but the weather gods had other ideas.  Just outside Colmar the clouds starting building up and a light drizzle started to fall.  Having lived seven years in the mountains of Utah, I could look at the cloud patterns and see it was going to come down.  So I decided to stop in Colmar for the night.  I had about 20 kilometers to go when I made this decision.  About two clicks out of town the bottom fell out.  And, of course, I hadn't stopped to don rain gear.  Let it rain, let it rain.

I pulled into the first hotel I could see...and believe me, seeing wasn't easy.  It was a Novotel, an Accor chain brand I thought was on a par with Ibis.  I knew I was wrong when the guy told me 140€ for one night.  I wasn't about to argue with animals pairing up in the parking lot, so I said "no problem," and here I am... wondering why this hotel is worth 140€ when I stayed at twice the hotel last night in Belgium for half the cost.  But, what do I know.  It was worth it at the time.  And the internet works.

The hotel fronts the airport runway.  A view out back.

That ain't fog folks.  It's clouds.   But these don't have the rain in them.  Those come in slightly higher.

Tomorrow, Switzerland...and roots?

Day 2 - Nivelles, Belgium

315 K - 195 Miles

Awoke slightly after the rooster, raring to go.   I stayed long enough to post pictures on the blog, then down the road as the song says, "makin' time, 'scoobie-doobie', makin' time" (or something like that).

Certainly is beautiful country; all rolling farmland, covered in wheat and hay mostly, with the occasional corn field thrown in for good measure.  I expect, at any moment, to see Van Gogh or Junior Samples stand up in a cornfield, holding a sign saying 'For Sale,' painting or used car, take your pick; "I need the money."

Then you start seeing the road signs speaking to names you've heard for most of your life: Somme, Amiens, Mons; each convoking thoughts of massive formations of men, animals, and guns...especially guns.  What began with the American Civil War, the effects of modern transportation and technology on the capability to wage war, was expanded here, between 1914 and 1918, to the point where movement of strategic consequence became impossible.  They just stopped; and like two brutes in a 19th century prize-ring, pummeled each other to total exhaustion.  But not the fighters, the fighters were still "toeing the line," still answering the bell.  The support systems behind them gave out first, a testament to the stamina, bravery...and heart...of the troops.

The support systems gave out first because the military they supported became so bloody good at consuming the requirements of war the population couldn't keep up.  The best example is the fact that German commanders had to plan their offenses very carefully in terms of artillery barrages, because three days of shelling could consume thirty days of manufacturing capacity.  And it's a very bad thing to run out of ammo during a gunfight...any Texan can tell you that.

So, with that new upstart, America, entering the game, the German "brute" flinched first, and an armistice was effected, leaving it to the next generation to carry the evolution of modern war to it's inevitable conclusion: Shanghai, Stalingrad, Dresden, and Hiroshima.  Wonder if we've learned anything?  I don't think much.

East of Amiens, France

The inevitable church.  Farmers have a special call on God.  One weeks it's "Lord, make it rain...please, make it rain."  The next weeks it's, "Lord, please stop the rain...please.  Any more and I'm ruined."

"And Lord, please forgive me for working on Sunday."

But that crop's just got to get in."

"Okay, that's it for you.  Take it to the elevator.  I'll go get some more."

The contrasts between the browns and greens is great.  I think Van Gogh every time I see these scenes.

Lion's Mound at Waterloo

Many, evidently including Wellington, would argue that "they've destroyed my battlefield."  Another argument is they just piled it up in one place.

The argument stems from the razing of the actual battlefield to build the monument to the allied victory.  The folks in those days are singularly noted for their irreverence to everything but God; and only God when they thought he was listening.  The erection of a monument to the victory was just, oh so much more important than retaining the actual terrain of the great battle.  Battle_of_Waterloo

This will give you a perspective of why your intrepid reporter didn't have pictures of the entire battlefield from the top of the monument.  I'd have to pack a three-day lunch to get up that thing.

This is "behind" the monument ground.  It is, I think, the remnants of the Mont-Saint-Jean escarpment behind which Wellington, as in every battle he fought, kept his reserves unseen on the battlefield.

In this direction Hougoumont, one of the two fortified advance positions of Wellington.

On the other side, the other fortified forward position, Papelotte.  Papelotte would change hands five times during the battle. It is from the left here that Bülow's IV corp entered the battle, taking Papelotte for the final time, and breaking Napoleon's back.

Today they are just fields...and tourist attractions.  But on one day in 1815 the world changed here...on this spot.

Since this battle was so important, the outcome so world-changing, historians and military experts have argued for 194 years as to why it turned out as it did.  The general consensus is Napoleon was the better commander, both strategically and tactically. I would certainly agree with that.  The latest analysis I've heard is that Napoleon was suffering from a horrendous hemorrhoid attack.  As funny as that sounds, I don't know if it's true, or not.  But I do believe he was not "himself" during this battle.  But, with all that, I think he just got "out-lucked."  Grouchy followed orders and attacked Bülow's rearguard at Wavre, ignoring a sub-ordinate's militarily-correct plea to move "to the sound of the guns."  Ney did what any good tactical commander would do when he perceived a weakness in the enemy, he attacked him.  Unfortunately, he was wrong; the movement was the movement of wounded from the battlefield, not the beginning of a retreat, as he thought.  But I can guarantee you George Patton, Robert E. Lee, and Nathan Bedford Forrest, the most offensively oriented commanders I've ever heard of, would have done the same thing; probably quicker.

Some errors are tactical, some strategic.  Ney's was a tactical error.  It did not "lose" the battle.  Grouchy's failure to prevent Bülow's army from joining the battle is oh, so big strategically.  Patton is famous for noting that a battle plan goes "out the window" with the first shot.  Grouchy should have marched to the sound of the guns.  My personal belief is that his failure to do so cost Napoleon this battle.  But, in the final analysis, would the world have changed much if the outcome had been different?  I think very little, and not for long.  The allies would have formed another coalition and gone after him again, and again, and again.  Why?  Because of the bigger strategy.  Because they could not allow the French revolution to stand, even with an Emperor at its head.  Three years earlier the English and the American went at it again, with the same result as before.  The French and the Americans were a threat to all monarchies, as they proved historically to be.  They could not be allowed to continue.  The monarchies won this battle, but, eventually, lost the war.

Stopping at Bastogne tomorrow.  It's about 90 miles from here.  After that I better be making some time, or I'm going to have to go on extended leave of absence to complete this trip.  I don't think that would go over very well.   Although, come to think of it, the boss has asked me a couple of times if I was coming back.  Now I have to wonder, was he concerned about the possibly of me not coming back...or was he concerned about me coming back?  "Hmmmmm????  I got to think on that, Amos."  (Spencer Williams to Alvin Childress)  ---  [Okay folks...what's this in reference to?---and shame on you if you have to use the internet.]