It was a lazy start to the day as we woke in the most pleasant accommodation so far, an Air B&B in the quiet and idyllic location of Fulda. We would have a short ride to the station once we had packed, but first things first, we needed to get on with the operation (not for the squeamish)
On my first day, I was bitten on my right leg. I usually just leave such things to nature but as our journey has progressed, so has the red, swollen area and the open wound. Samantha noticed the other day that it was oozing, and as I woke, I noticed it was not in a good way... So nothing for it but to open it up and clean it out. That was done with my leg on the coffee table and my nails; yes, I washed my hands first, and yes, I did say this was not for the squeamish, so if you are still reading, you were warned. The flesh melted away, and I cleaned it down to harder flesh that was more in place. It was agreed that a pharmacist was a good idea and some antiseptic cream.
We made quick progress to the station; getting onto the platform was a little more tricky as the lift would not take both bikes, so we took turns. I found that my bike only just fitted even on its own.
We got on the train and did our 9 Euro check-in with the guard, then on arrival at Bebra, we found the lift was broken. We have found a fair few inaccessible platforms while on our journey, and as I helped a woman down the long flight of stairs with her pram while Benjamin waited at the top with the bikes, the following occurred to me.
The board of any train company or corporation in charge of the maintenance and upkeep of stations should several times a year be given a few random journeys to undertake on their own network. They must all undertake the journeys in wheelchairs, and they are not allowed any help. If they alight at a station with a sign prohibiting the use of wheelchairs on the stairs and sporting a lovely cut-off, talked-up broken lift, they simply lose all bonuses and are deemed to have failed to do their job.
Stuck at a station or on a train because the gap is too big and there is no provision to overcome this, another failure and loss of all bonuses.
It would not be too long before they prioritised the vulnerable parents with buggies and prams humping their children up dangerous stairs. They would have a newfound interest in the disabled and prioritise such resources to allow them the basic right of travel the rest of us take for granted.
Next up is the quest for food and a good morning coffee. This was a very simple quest accomplished within a few minutes by a delightful coffee shop with a bakery. I treated myself to two rolls, a coffee and some water. We sat and planned the day, then spied a pharmacy. Breakfast over, we entered the pharmacy, and Benjamin explained we were after some antiseptic. At least that's what I assumed he said, the man behind the counter thought, pulled faces and then opened a draw and presented me with a small 6-euro spray of magic. For the first time, my Garmin watch failed to pay via its inbuilt wallet, so my cash was fetched and used. After the transaction, we were offered what looked like two boiled sweets. It seemed a strange offering but ever more rude to decline, so I said thank you, and we went outside to try the apothecary's potion.
Benjamin read some of the instructions, which seemed to explain one line of when you could use it and pages worth of warnings about when you should not use it. He then revealed that it was a no-sting spray. What's the point of that I exclaimed, for everyone knows the potency of any antiseptic is directly in line with the pain it can potentially bring to the patient, in the same way that only really foul-tasting cough medicine can actually help shift a cold.
I sprayed; it dribbled down like water, and there was no magic leading, o well, time to cycle.
We soon made good progress out of town, but the landscape was very undulating, a corrugated terrain with each peak a little higher than the last, so a fair burst of energy was needed to get to the top of the next. We were making or accent for the day, with a steep profile to start, then a more gentle decline and a flattening out. I checked out the average speed, 17km/h, which is really good considering. This slipped to 15km/h by the peak, which like Everest, took a while to get to as every time you think you are at the summit, there is just a little further to go.
Now the descent. It was smoother in profile and allowed us to make good speed. Soon we were averaging 17km/h the landscape unfolding was lovely and rural.
As we sped down, we saw several warning signs, lorries headbutting trees, then beware of rocks falling down the mountainside, one with a person pushing a small lop-sided hill with a stick, no idea, and finally, an abstract one of dough dumplings raining, could it be fast descending clouds?
We crossed a bridge, and then Benjamin called me back to explain we had just entered what had been East Germany; there were signs and a great art sculpture of a person squeezing between 2 concrete posts.
I mulled that in the UK, such signs would be in English, then French and German as well as Spanish, but here it's just English.
Benjamin commented that in the East, there was not the same education in English before the wall came down; there was more German and Russian.
There was a pause, and I reminded him that that didn't stack up because, believe it or not, English are not known for being multilingual or even aware there are other languages to speak. A smile came across his face and a shrug.
As we flew past a field of ripe corn, I stopped to take a picture and then a video of the combine harvester gathering in the wheat. A lovely sight to see in these times of potential food shortage. And then there was a beeping noise, and the harvester started to reverse and unleash a cloud of finely chopped snow, yes snow, for that's how it moved and settled; I didn't get out of the way quickly enough and experienced the full shower.
It then led to a conversation that it would be an excellent export to places that are becoming short on snow. Possibly a new German export to Iceland?
Then down we whizz through hens, some bolder or more stupid than others.
As we neared the heat of the day, 34° C plus, it was very different from the first few days; I have finally acclimatised, my legs were good, I felt great, and I was naughty; I opened up the throttle and abandoned Benjamin for a bit, relishing the conquest of the German climate and realising that 29Km/h on the flat was achievable, and was enjoyable!
We arrived at the hotel, which was small with a courtyard.
Then a visit to the local shops. I shall certainly sleep well tonight.
