In 1979, with my best friend Colin, I cycled from Hook of Holland across the Netherlands and into Germany. We carried on pedalling to the Rhine near Koblenz and continued south along the river, past Mainz to Worms; where we camped for one night before heading for home via Luxembourg, Brussels and the port of Zeebrugge. In two weeks, making up the route as we went along, we rode 700 miles and camped in fields or woods when we couldn’t find a camp-site. We were 16.
Me and my Viscount Sebring bike (with bespoke sock-drying facility). Nijmegan, 1979
I’m now amazed that our parents gave us permission but it didn’t seem particularly odd at the time; and the following year we set off again for three weeks: cycling through the Black Forest, Switzerland, Austria and Lichtenstein; and over the Alps to Genoa.
Today, the idea of allowing my 16-year-old boy to bicycle for hundreds of miles on busy roads, for weeks at a time, unsupervised and non-contactable, is laughable. But as L.P. Hartley almost said – “The 1970s is a foreign country: they do things differently there”. We two schoolboys had an incredibly exciting, fun and formative time; and nothing too bad or scary happened (though an encounter with a group of very drunk, lederhosen-clad, Austrian yodellers came close). Those two teenage cycling trips are up there with the very best holidays of my life.
Mainz Cathedral
But when I arranged a recent Rhine Valley cycling reboot with Jim, I ditched the first-cycle-to-Germany plan and caught the train from London to Mainz instead.
The Bingen to Koblenz stretch of the Rhine Cycle Route
At our Mainz hotel, we collected our hire bikes and for the following five days rolled slowly downriver through a Grimm landscape; enduring bright sun, huge breakfasts, beer, picnics and currywurst for the 135 miles to Rüdesheim, Koblenz and finally Cologne.
The sun always shines in Germany – or rather – the sun always shines on our cycling holidays in Germany.
Der Klunkhardshof, Rüdesheim (Spoken German: Exercise 1)
We smothered on the sunblock and rubber-necked past fairytale architecture;
Bacharach
quaint mediaeval towns;
and castles.
And castles.
And a castle.
And another castle.
Another bloody castle.
A close-up of a castle.
Until I grew bored at photographing castles and stopped.
I liked old shop-signs advertising long-gone businesses: here the services of an adept, if elderly, boot thief.
And here, erm … actually, I have no idea what business this unfortunate fishing incident is selling. Fishing tackle? Fish? Specially trained attack deer?
I liked modern, sleek things too;
and even industrial complexes that reminded me of 1960’s postcards promising us all a brighter, shinier future.
This section of the Rhine Cycle Route, squeezed tight against the river by the Rhine Highlands and sharing the valley bottom with railways and dual-carriageways, is less peaceful and rural than our last cycling holiday (see ‘And Quiet Flows The Spree’).
Unsurprisingly, there wasn’t as much wildlife either but we did see pylon-nesting storks
and their more conventional brethren.
Cormorants were common too
and curious house martin chicks. One morning I squealed to an impressive, rubber-smoking halt when a red squirrel ran past my front wheel and scurried up a tree.
Only, it wasn’t a red squirrel. Well, it was but it was a grey squirrel … yet red.
Have you ever seen one of these? A red grey squirrel? I hadn’t and didn’t even know they existed. Perhaps it’s a new species and I shall be famous the world over … or more likely it’s a colour variant of the common or garden grey.
In the pretty town of Boppard, I nodded hesitantly at Jim’s suggestion, swallowed hard, breathed deep and climbed anxiously aboard a very-flimsy-indeed-looking chairlift. (As I’ve mentioned before, I’m rubbish with heights).
Good grief but it was high … and my eyes flicked to automatic closing mode; my vocab to automatic squeaking.
The views were worth the anguish (when I did open my eyes but certainly not looking down between my feet) – and Jim forgave the squeak and whimper soundtrack.
Das GedeonsEck, hoch über der Rheinschleife (Spoken German: Exercise 2)
At the end of the ride, the stupendous sight from the restaurant GedeonsEck, calmed my nerves
as did a small restorative;
before – “Eeek!” – the return journey.
In early July, wild-flowers were at their peak.
Mile after mile of stunning flowers;
on verges and scraps of wasteland.
Gasthof zum Landsknecht, St Goar (Spoken German: Exercise 3)
No camping in woods this time nor struggling with heavy, overladen bikes. Our tour company* pre-booked the accommodation, provided our bicycles and, after Frühstück, ferried our luggage from one hotel to the next;
leaving us to pedal a leisurely 25 miles or so a day.
Hashtag Action Shot
It was hardly a blistering pace but we made it less so. On day 4, Jim realized that he hadn’t overtaken a single non-stationary cyclist. He reddened when I pointed out that senior pensioners on ancient bone-rattlers, and even toddlers on trikes, had whizzed past us for days. Maybe we could increase our speed just a little bit, Jim? We did and reached shirt-tail-flapping speeds.
But not for long. There was always the perfect excuse to slow down and stop again.
Stone towers of the Remagen bridge today
At Remagen, the Ludendorff Bridge is no more. This was the only Rhine bridge captured intact by the Allies in 1945 – after Hitler ordered them all destroyed to hamper the Allied advance. Despite several attempts by the Germans, and to the delight of the US 9th Armored Division, the bridge survived. After a fierce battle, the Americans took it, threw five divisions across the river and surged on to Germany’s industrial heartland, the Ruhr.
Ludendorff Bridge, 1945 (Photo of an image at the ‘Peace Museum, Bridge at Remagen’)
Two weeks later the badly damaged structure finally, suddenly collapsed – killing 28 US soldiers – but by then its capture had already helped shorten the war. (Interesting aside, huh)?
Cologne Cathedral – the tallest building in the world (for four years in the 1880’s)
Five days after leaving Mainz, we arrived in Cologne and the end of our tour. I’d booked an apartment for a further three nights and we were looking forward to the galleries, museums, the botanical gardens and cake of this vibrant city. But surrendering our bikes on arrival was hard: we’d developed a fierce affection for them and would miss the open road, World Heritage Sites, the vineyards and occasional flapping of shirt-tails. Hell, I’d even miss the castles.
If the idea of a cycling holiday appeals, I’d urge you to go. The pace is generally easy; you can stop wherever and whenever you like (without having to find a parking space); and you’ll enjoy an intimacy with the countryside, people and wildlife that’s impossible from the inside of a car, bus or train. I’m already planning our next trip. You might want to do the same.
*Over the years, I’ve booked three cycling holidays through Mecklenburger Radtour. They offer a wide choice of tours in various countries, at different fitness levels and, as you might expect from a German company, they’re reassuringly efficient. They book all the accommodation; arrange luggage transfer; provide the bike, route guide, information pack, simple repair kit and breakdown back-up support – though we’ve never needed the latter two.
(I haven’t been asked to plug Mecklenburger Radtour. I just wanted to give credit to a company that does its job really well).
The Anxious Gardener 
Great blog as usual David! x
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You’re a sweetie aren’t you? Dx
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David, thank you so much for posting this. As someone whose interests also combine gardening and cycling this was right up my street. Now that I have a family I’ve been trying to work out how to do a cycling holiday and Mecklenburger Radtour look to have some good options – so thanks for the tip.
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Very pleased to help, Matt. Of the three we’ve done, I’d particularly recommend Lubeck to Stralsund on the Baltic coast – https://www.mecklenburger-radtour.de/en/trips/reise/detail/ostsee_radweg_luebeck_stralsund.html. Smashing for kids too with endless sandy beaches – and no hills! Dave
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It looks lovely – I think I’d enjoy the Baltic coast (and the lack of hills). Thanks again.
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Hi boys, lovely reading your adventures in Germany and nice to see you have not resorted to lycra cycling shorts yet! Maybe some sort of shorts next time !! Never I hear you say! I am back in the UK 23rd to 27th September so we need to get together. Big hugs and miss you both loads xx
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Shhh, Andrew. We had padded lycra cycling shorts under our trousers – nobody deserved seeing us in those – and, I’ll add, they brought blessed relief. Yay – you’re coming home! Dx
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Lovely photos, lovely trip, lovely you & Jim! xxx
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Thanks Lara, you Doll. Dxx
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Now that is the way to travel. I did the back pack thing in ’79-80 and swore I’d never travel 3rd class again. 😉 This sounds very doable and enjoyable.
I expect your red squirrel was a hybrid. Nature moves on.
I would have been terrified of the ski lift, too. Yikes! At least there was a nice view to distract you. Beautiful photos, Dave.
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You were just a little before me with the back-pack thing, Eliza – my year was ’83. Six weeks across Europe to Istanbul, sleeping on the floors of railway and coach stations, beaches and even on a roundabout – ah, the memories. From what I’ve read, I don’t think the squirrel is a hybrid as reds and greys are different species and don’t interbreed. But hey, perhaps this one’s parents didn’t know that. D
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Ah, the good l’ days! 😉
Maybe it was a juvenile red? …apparently, the ear tufts take a while to grow.
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maybe the chairlift is easier in winter with skis on?
I remember the horror! We chose a non-chairlift route down.
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Hehe. Perhaps the Boppard Chairlift should include ‘Remember the Horror’ on their advertinsing tag-line?!
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25 miles a day sounds wonderfully civilized—leisurely enough to let you enjoy that gorgeous scenery. Not to mention the beer. Lovely post and photos as always, Dave.
Have you read Jerome K. Jerome’s Three Men on the Bummel? It’s a comic recounting of a bicycle trip he took with two friends took through the Black Forest area around 1900. You might (or might not) enjoy it. (Did I ask you that last year already?) S
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Hi Stacy, no I haven’t read any JKJ (and no, you didn’t ask me that before). Looks good though – having checked it out on wiki – I’ll get a copy, thanks for the tip. 135 miles in 5 days is pretty easy-going but I think we might do a longer, slightly more challenging trip next time (if I can persuade Jim to cycle quicker than a very sedate strolling speed). D
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Great photos!
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Thanks, D
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I enjoyed my armchair voyage but the chair lift left me a bit queasy even in my armchair. You were very brave. Amelia
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Ha! Actually, looking at those photos again made my stomach lurch a bit too. I’m going on a mile long, 100mph zip wire ride in September. Not sure why, as I’ll have my eyes firmly shut! D
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Devil for punishment.
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Great blog David! Don’t worry about the zip wire, it will be too fast for you to be nervous! x
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We’ll both have our eyes shut, I reckon 🙂
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Love the ‘attack deer’ sign!
What an adventure! Thanks for sharing all the wonderful photos and the 15 castle photos 😉😉
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I baulked at showing ALL the castle photos I took and figured I needn’t impose all of them on you!! And I was too ashamed to admit – we didn’t visit one! #hangshead. D
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Good looking adventure
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Thanks, yes it was! Great food too. D
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Thanks for sharing. It’s so nice to see images of an ‘alternative’ summer holiday that doesn’t involve all-you-can-eat buffets and beaches. Germany is a wonderful country and I hope I get the opportunity to explore it by bike one day.
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I think Germany is a wonderful country too and so diverse. I’m thinking we might cycle through the Bavarian Alps next time but there are so many choices, we’re a bit spoilt. We did a Baltic Coast tour and that’s certainly an area I want to return to. I hope you get to go, Rej. D
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I loved reading your post! what a great time you had! really inspiring 🙂
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Thanks Patricia. To be honest, it was just a couple of blokes on their hols, drinking beer and eating cake – and so I took quite a while to come up with a post about it (which is why it’s about 6 weeks late!). D
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You did it though, and that’s the main thing! 🙂
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Fab post, Dave. A wonderfully varied portrayal. I could have done with more castles. It is astonishing what we could do as kids. Before university I hitch-hiked from Dover to Morocco. (Just one lift actually, including the hovercraft). I ended up in hospital in Casablanca with amoebic dysentery. The worst experience of my life. Maybe I had given my parents such a bad time they thought “what the hell” . Mind you they would’nt let me go to the Isle of Wight festival in ’71 when I was 16. Unforgiveable. Would love you to do a retrospective of the original bike ride. Does your arse not hurt?
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Thank you Charles. I remember in the 80’s being offered a 5 litre tin of cannabis oil in Agadir, Morocco by a Dutchman. Not sure why he thought I wanted it or how I was going to get it home on a plane. Especially, as for the only time in my life, I was strip searched by UK customs – I guess they thought that two young lads going to Morocco on holiday were obviously drug smugglers. The strip search was pretty horrible but better than dysentery. I didn’t write a journal for those two cycling trips at 16 and 17,and only remember bits and pieces – which is tragic really as I have bloody reams of tedious memories scribbled down a couple of years later in my room at college. Reams. But I’m seeing Colin soon, I hope, and perhaps he can jog my memory a little – enough for a shortish post at least. Saddle soreness, a given I’m afraid – but padded cycling shorts under our trousers were a boon and my top tip of the day. D
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Thank you for sharing your cycling adventure. Photos are wonderful.
FlowerLady
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Thanks Lorraine – not quite the adventure I had in 1979 but pretty good anyway. D
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