Up the creek: Hamburg to Dresden
Out of Hamburg, and far from the Elbe for much of the day.
The river route is rarely along the river. More usually, the route is atop the dyke that provides flood protection one or two hundred metres from the river banks. Atop the dyke means exposed to the wind, which has been blowing, and mainly from the east. And we ride eastward so, yes, a headwind. Slowing us down but not otherwise interfering with our enjoyment.
Sometimes we ride along the base of the dyke, offering a little protection from the wind. Offering protection also from much in the way of views. We very occasionally meet a farm vehicle on these lower roads but there is virtually no other traffic. More cycles than internal combustion engines.
Generally, the riding surface is excellent. Billiard table smooth asphalt, or concrete double track: two 30 cm wide white ribbons stretching into the distance with a grassy median between them. The concrete can give way to interlocking paving stones, for a regular rhythmical beat to accompany our progress. Even short, pleasurable, sections of packed gravel. Less pleasurable: large cobblestones of differing sizes, when the path takes us through small villages and towns.
In contrast to the towns, the villages seem almost devoid of people. Not abandoned: the houses are in good repair with late model vehicles parked along the streets. Just very few people out and about. Those that we do see seem to be older. They rarely acknowledge us, or return smiles.
Farmhouses visible from the route are timbered, bricked between the timbers. Similarly in some of the old picturesque and mildly touristy towns. An abundance of thatched roofs, too. Even on very large barns full of noisy cattle.
Our first evening involved a very pleasant candlelit dinner on a terrace high above the river. And a ride through an old medieval town to get started in the morning.
We cross the river frequently, once or twice a day, most often on a ferry but also, infrequently, using a bridge. This is usually to increase our accommodation options. Or just on a whim; ferries make an enjoyable break from pedaling.
Many of the ferries use the power of the current to traverse the river from side to side. One hundred or more metres upstream, there is a long cable anchored in the centre of the river. The cable stretches from buoy to buoy, down to the ferry. I assumed that this cable was just to prevent the ferry from disappearing downstream during periods of high flow, and that there was a small engine to propel the ferry between the two river banks. But there was no evidence of such an engine.
Instead, at the closest buoy or float to the ferry, the single cable becomes three, with one cable each to the "front" (an arbitrary designation since both bow and stern of the ferry are identical), the centre and the "rear" of the ferry. To proceed across the river, the "front" of the ferry is pulled upstream by a winch on the appropriate cable, inclining the boat to the current in such a way that the current moves the ferry laterally across the river in the required direction. Simple and economical.
Sometimes, we use a bridge to the cross the river. Bridges are free, compared to the usual one or two Euros charge on the ferry, but do not offer the same charm.
The dryness continues. We did have one day of rain before Dresden but there have been weeks of moistureless heat before our arrival this summer. Even the steady, soaking rain we endured on our bikes for a few hours didn't seem to have much effect on the soil.
Accommodation has mainly been in hotels and we are burning through money. We've noticed numerous places where small motor homes or caravans (trailers) have parked up for the night but there are no apparent facilities (bathrooms, showers) for tenters to do the same. (Today, there was even a sign for camping with a picture of a tent but that is the first I remember since Hamburg, a week ago.)
Further south, pensions in smaller towns and villages offer a more economical alternative, generally operated by older, welcoming couples who seem much at odds with the stern aloofness expressed by those villagers and townsfolk we occasionally ride past in the street.
The village streets are deserted.
There are, however, many stealth camping opportunities in the woodland we pass through every day. The countryside is sparsely populated and it should be feasible to bivvy out of sight and undisturbed most evenings. Not for us on this trip, though.
Sections of deep green forest break up the journey, some of it apparently parkland, judging by some indication of maintenance: mowing between the trees, some tree spacing.
A lovely spot for lunch
There are storks in evidence (although I didn't manage to get good photos of any), white with dark feathers towards their back. Some villages had large nests built on the rooftops (the platforms seemed to be human-built, the nests themselves bird created).
Our accommodations in the stork-nesting town of Fruhstadt was
the 'castle,' a classy old mansion.
Meissen, on the approach to Dresden: famous for its ceramic work.
