We took our time over Breakfast and packing at the Arthotel Kiebitzberg in Havelberg. The weather was much cooler – overcast, with occasional spots of rain. We began our journey across the former East Germany at a fair old lick, aided by a moderate Southwesterly.
The going was almost entirely flat. The countryside was much the same – flat and dominated by fields of barley and wheat, but the contrast between the villages either side of the Elbe was subtle, but noticeable: less varied, less decorative, more monochrome and uniform in taste.
Just outside Berlin, we were met by an old primary school friend of mine (The Teacher), who now lives in Berlin and is the head of the Berlin British School. He acted as out guide down the main drag towards the Brandenburg Gate from the West. We paused to visit the Commonwealth War Graves Cemetery, which consists almost exclusively of allied airmen and, according to a chap we encountered there, at least one of the men shot during the Great Escape.
Eventually we arrived, after 114 hours of cycling over 1053 miles and up slopes with a total vertical height of 7170m.
After three nights in Berlin with The Baroness, consuming much pork and beer, I am now on a train bound for Amersfoort in The Netherlands, from where I will reacquaint myself with the contours of the Ridgeback’s seat and ride to Rotterdam for the ferry to Hull tomorrow.
I set out on this journey to commemorate those who fought to liberate Europe in 1944-5. It has been my good fortune to have been accompanied a good deal of the way by a distinguished recently retired senior officer, and a formidable expert on the history of the war, particularly the Market-Garden campaign. I have enjoyed travelling across much of Germany, a country I have only ever visited briefly before. Almost exclusively, the Germans I have encountered have been friendly, courteous and helpful. We are truly blessed to be living in such times.
As I reflect on what I have seen, read and learned during this trip, my thoughts are already turning to next year. I intend to return to Germany in the future, and maybe head further East, but for next year, I’m going to give France and the French another chance to delight, frustrate, tire, starve and feed me. I have in my sights the first half of Eurovelo 6: from the Atlantic Coast, up the Loire Valley towards the source of the Danube. Excited already.
Thanks for reading.
The Trick Cyclist 