Down in the Black Forrest
I write from the sunny black Forrest next to my tent pitched by a gorgeous and gurgling stream in Camping Mullerweise. Today had its ups and downs literarily in this case. After sleeping well I woke to breakfast at 7.30 before the dining room opened but they were kind enough to serve me anyway. It was raining outside so I delayed my exit for an hour until it stopped. €62 for a bed breakfast and garage seemed good to me and the place had the winning combination of being unpretentious and having English spoken. I packed up Bertha in her garage and then heaved her out onto the sloping alley and struggled to keep her upright. With my heart still pounding from exertion and the anxiety of nearly dropping her, I drove down to the hotel to return the garage key and promptly dropped her unfortunate bulk on the road while getting off without putting the sidestand down first. I must say she took the fall very well. There was nothing for it but to painstakingly unload everything onto the pavement and try to get her upright. I’ve done it before so I know it’s possible. A petite woman walking a dog asked whether she could help but I politely declined and just when I was starting to fish out my camera to record the event two beefy guys turned up and got her upright in no time without even taking the cigarettes out of their mouths. They seemed really pleased to help. It was strangely an enjoyable drama to live through the event you’ve been dreading. I remember reading, though from a different context and continent, Ted Simon saying that he didn’t fear disasters on his round the world motorcycle journey as he saw them as opportunities for people to express their humanity and provide help.
Once on the road I was heading about 190 miles south to a campsite mentioned in the Cool Camping Guide, one of only a few in Germany that seemed to have made it into that usually reliable book. This one is in the northern part of the Black Forrest and has a car free tent area so the antidote to my caravan aversion, so some motorway miles with a parking stop at a layby populated by two coaches of football supporters and some lovely twisty hilly roads later I found the place. It’s sweet and all the nasty caravans are tucked away completely invisible and everyone here is a cool camper under canvass (nylon) reading paperbacks and I am saying hello to people. It takes a while to wind down after arriving and organising everything in the heat to notice how beautiful the site is and how lovely it’s situation.
Miles 194 average 57.8mph max speed 92.5mph moving time 3 hrs 21 minutes
Working out the rest of the trip:
Sunday night here
Monday southern black Forrest
Tuesday southern black Forrest
Wedn northern black Forrest
Thursday Northern Germany or Loreleyblick (aha dear reader, the folly of planning ahead...)
Touratech is only 37 miles away south and Heidegger’s hut is 60 miles southwest and there seems to be a campsite quite close by where I can hide and prepare for my assault on the hut. Be warned, the guides say, it is still owned by the Heidegger family and they do not like their privacy intruded upon. The Heidegger family, some sources say, are heavily armed and expertly trained in the techniques of close combat. I’ve worked out a good site to stay at close to Bitburg where Bitburger comes from for my last night before the ordeal of the Dutch motorway system.