Day 12: Nancy – Luxembourg

It was gone 3am by the time I’d got settled for the night in Nancy, with departure from my hotel scheduled for ten this morning. After another good nights sleep rudely interrupted by my alarm going off a couple of hours earlier than I would have liked, I said goodbye to the picturesque city of Nancy and began the voyage north up to country number ten – Luxembourg. Number ten?! Already?

My plan was to stay in the town of Bissen today before heading over to Antwerp in Belgium tomorrow, however after such an amazing night yesterday I fancied another jaunt in a city; especially after several days of isolation riding through the mountains.

Heading to Luxembourg itself has been a great idea and with a mere 88 miles to cover I arrived just after mid-day, post navigation of road-works and subsequent traffic jams. Other than that the ride was uneventful, although the scenery reminded me a lot of the Czech Rebublic, with the hills, fields and manufacturing plants dotted around the landscape – and not to mention the heat! Riding along with my jacket half open was the only way to cope today, the cool breeze keeping me from overheating too much as I worked my way down the French motorway and into Luxembourg.

I’ve spent the last few hours exploring the city and its streets. Luxembourg is a bustling place with plenty of posh shops, a nice central square with some live music and plenty of places to eat, drink and relax. It also plays host to a veritable cornucopia of cultures and nationalities, from French and German, to Russian, Japanese and African. Whilst structurally and architecturally the newer parts of the city are nowhere near as breathtaking as the medieval city of Nancy, it still has a lot of charm and plenty to look at and admire.

Back in my hotel room now I’m going to make the most of the rest of the afternoon and early evening by catching up with some writing for the blog and maybe taking a little nap so I’m refreshed and awake for another wander into town later tonight for dinner and a couple of drinks.

Today has been exactly what I needed to properly recharge; a short trip up from France followed by a day of relaxation. Whilst I’d normally still be on the road or just getting into my destination at 4pm as I write this, I’ve had the rare luxury of pretty much a full day to myself, whilst at the same time also making it to the scheduled destination for the day.

Day 10: Andermatt – Basel

Well, last nights plan didn't exactly happen... with WiFi being intermittent at best in my hotel room, I moved to the hotel bar with the laptop to sort out emails and the admin that’s been piling up. I’d just finished sending out a few tweets for the trip when I heard two English voices at the bar ordering a whisky and a coke! The first British nationals I’ve come across since arrive in Europe - Hurrah! What followed was a couple of fantastic hours of conversation between myself and the couple as we discussed reasons for being here - they’re spending a week or so doing a circuit of Switzerland, starting from and ending in Zurich. It seems that they’re tackling the Klausenpass today, so I hope I’ve not made Pauls wife too nervous about the trip after talking about my own experiences yesterday!

It was really nice meeting such a lovely couple who regaled me with stories of their honeymoon several decades ago - from being held up at gunpoint on holiday as they travelled south of Morocco and experiencing a bomb scare on the flight back with a forced stop-over in Paris, to hearing how one of their sons was also enrolled on the JET program (teaching English in Japan) for a couple of years. The hours passed far too quickly, and I am extremely grateful to them for the beer which they bought for me as we finished the first round of drinks – alas, they retired to bed before I could return the favour.

I decided to make the most of the rest of the evening after having such a great time with them and head out into Andermatt to grab a late night snack, maybe another *final* beer and see what was happening in this (supposedly) sleepy resort town now the sun had gone down.

The snack didn’t happen as I worked my way along the high street that appears to be the entirety of Andermatt. I noticed that one of the bars had the word “pub” above the door and that sold me immediately. Walking into the smoky bar and ordering a beer, I sat alongside several Andermatt locals as I took my first couple of sips from a beer which had cost me more than €6!

It wasn’t long before I joined a group of eight or so local people, either working on construction projects in and around Andermatt, or for several of the hotels which make up around 40% of the town. Much gratitude to both Paolo and Danijela, along with the rest of the group for making me feel so welcome. It was very strange finding out that these people hail from such far-away places as Bosnia, Germany, Spain and Portugal, yet had been living and working in this tiny town for several years! My beer finished, I ordered another small one as the company and conversation was great to be a part of and I hadn’t had a night out properly since Fohnsdorf. I headed back to the hotel at midnight - content and a little bit wobbly, but I made sure that I didn’t overdo it, despite being in the mood for at least a couple more. I’m not sure my body (nor my wallet) would have appreciated that in the morning!

As it happens I awoke fairly early and met the British couple from last night in the hotel restaurant for breakfast. A quick chat about routes for the day and some coffee / muesli and I was set. I grabbed my gear, checked out and started packing up the bike.

Outside I met a young German couple, Philip and Corinna, who had been travelling down on a bike from Lake Constance (much like David and Daffid yesterday). After a quick chat about bikes, and Philip looking fairly impressed with Betty, I discovered that they’d be taking the same route for a while before heading off to finish their journey up to Zurich. We made plans to ride together and off we set.

I’ve been looking forward to today most of all since the start of the trip. Not one, but three passes lay before me today, with about 100 miles of motorway to finish off the journey. It wasn’t going to be a particularly long day of riding compared to some of the journeys I’d had thus far, but with the Furkapass, Grindlepass and Brunigpass to cover, it was pretty much guaranteed to be incredible.

The weather was with us too, with no rain to speak of, but some low lying cloud and fog as we made our way up the first of the passes through the mountains. Visibility was really poor in places and fantastic in others. Despite being less dangerous than the Klausenpass yesterday, it was still pretty damn crazy. We had an absolute blast navigating our way through and the views were utterly breathtaking. I keep saying that the last days riding was better than the one before, but it just keeps happening! The Furkapass up through (and above) the clouds and back down to the tiny town of Gletch at the bottom brought a huge smile to my face, but I was totally unprepared for the Grindlepass – heading back up another mountain to be greeted by huge reserviours and lakes that seemed to go on forever, the huge mountains dominating the landscape as we insignificant folk navigated the twist and turns which would take us through the pass.

The sun was out and it was warming up as we headed through the mountains, the bends and scenery broken up by long tunnels through the rock, constantly throwing up another unexpected wonder as we emerged bank into the daylight from the darkness, the noise of the engines echoing through the landscape.

After a few unforgettable hours it was all over. I’d said goodbye to Philip and Corina at the end of the Grindlepass as I made my way through the Brunigpass and onto the A8 which took me first to Luzern, and then through to Basel. As such, the day was pretty well mapped out and there were no problems with the directions. I made it into Basel at around 2.30pm with the usual plan to find a cheap hotel (everything in Switzerland is so, so expensive) at the forefront of my mind.

Today has very much been one of two halves – not just in terms of the landscape and the ride, but in terms of my feelings regarding the trip as a whole. From excitement and awe to the more sobering thoughts of the mundane. As I was travelling down the motorway, with the mountains disappearing in my mirrors and the view ahead replaced with mere hills and greenery (despite being very pretty indeed), I got the sudden feeling that the adventure was pretty much over and that from here on in I was actually on the home stretch back to England. Despite still having France, Luxembourg and Belgium still to visit, I’m heading back north from this point forward and will soon be back at the port in Amsterdam. Whilst I really enjoy my job and my work, I’m struggling to see how life can be the same after this trip and I became a little bit down at the thought of the Yoo-Rup Cruise coming to an end, whilst at the same time knowing that what I’ve done will stay with me forever.

So, no more adventures for Dan. Just a plain old run up to Nancy in France tomorrow – a short three hour ride according to Google, and several similarly short trips for the rest of my destinations. Or so I thought. From this point on, I shall be extremely careful what I wish for...

Arriving into Basel, I’d barely had time to get off the motorway and find my way into some semblance of the proper city from the outskirts when Betty started to feel a bit weird. I’d been thinking this morning that I’ll definitely need to drop Steve and the guys at trackside a message to order me a new front tyre and some brake pads (Italy pretty much destroyed those!). As I pulled away from a set of traffic lights, the bike started to head to the right, slipping and sliding underneath me. I pulled the clutch in and rode the bike up and over, onto the pavement on the corner of Schultzengraben and Schultzenmatt strasse. Looking at my rear tyre my heart sank. Flat.

Betty had covered over 2,000 miles since we set off on this adventure together, and this was the first problem we’d had (well, apart from Philip mentioning that my rear brake light wasn’t working after we’d navigated the Furkapass – as I’d not be doing any night-time driving and my destinations are fairly short from this point on I figured it’d be kind of ok to leave it until I got back to the UK). I rang  the RAC (which from Switzerland is at least £1.00 per minute), using my International breakdown cover for the first time.

It was two hours later that a truck pulled up to collect Betty – by which time Roland, a local bus driver and fellow biker who had seen me sat waiting in the sunshine for the recovery truck several times as he completed his routes came to see me on his break. An unbelievable gesture from another stranger, and yet another biker who has gone above and beyond to help me out. He gave me the number of his mechanic, and waited with me, chatting about his own bike trips to the UK and the adventures he’d had parking in London and staying with friends in Scotland.

All the while this was going on I was trying to remain upbeat. I looked at the bike and the tyre, and thought of the travelling which had been done up until this point. Well, I guess it’s only flat at the bottom, so it’s not the end of the world...

Mark and his colleague from the breakdown service finally turned up and we loaded the VTX onto the smallest trailer imaginable, with the front tyre rolling almost over the edge in an effort to get the back wheel on and secured. My heart was in my mouth the whole trip to the garage, and I felt every single bump and subsequent clatter as the truck and trailer navigated the streets of Basel, with Mark laughing and me semi-laughing about her falling off or indeed doing a barrel roll...

We dropped the bike of at Blum Moto, the garage recommended by Roland where I managed to decipher that they were going to check and see if it’s a problem with the tyre itself, or the inner tube. Labour is going to cost me between 50 and 80 Swiss Francs (with pretty much a 1:1 ratio to the €). Assuming it’s the inner tube, that’ll be another 60. If it’s the tyre, I was informed that the cheapest they’d be able to order one for would be a whopping 250 Francs! At this point I don’t have much choice other than to wait and see  what happens – if it’s the inner tube it’ll be sorted by 9am tomorrow morning, if it’s the tyre then I should be on my way by 2pm. They’re going to call me tomorrow when it’s ready.

To be on the safe side I had them ring my phone there and then to confirm the +44 number would connect ok or if there would be any problems. It worked fine, so they’ll be able to get in touch when Betty is *hopefully* all better. I’ve got their address and a number for a local taxi company too, so I’ll be able to get back to the garage no problem tomorrow. I’m not particularly looking forward to having to spend the whole morning and some of the afternoon carting my luggage through the streets of Basel once I check out from the hotel in the morning though!

Speaking of hotels, I realised I didn’t have one yet... Mark offered to give me a lift and asked where I wanted to go. At the prospect of a £300+ bill for the repairs, I suggested a barn or bus shelter (half) jokingly, and then asked to be taken to somewhere cheap, a real budget hotel. I’m currently in the ibis, which in the real world is a pretty affordable chain of places to stay. In Switzerland however, it’s a cracking 135 Francs. Sighing and knowing I wasn’t going to find anywhere cheaper in a major city in Switzerland I gave up and agreed. Breakfast isn’t included either, nor is WiFi or any other amenities. What a day...

So here I am, without a bike and faced with the prospect of close to £500 to pay for a single night in Basel. I’m really hoping that Betty will be ready tomorrow so I can get the hell out of here. Switzerland has been a lovely place to look at and ride through, but I’m not sure I’d ever want to do it again – especially when Austria is just as beautiful (personally I think more so) and at a fraction of the cost. I’m contemplating going out for dinner as I’ve not eaten since breakfast and it’s now almost 7pm, but I’m not sure that I’d be willing to pay the asking price for a meal here – coming in at around £10 just for a small starter, I’m tempted to open the bottle of “Emergency Vodka” (which has remained untouched) I brought with me from the UK. I’ll probably go for a wander and see if I can find a supermarket that’s still open and get a few bits from there. Surely that’d be cheaper...

From an incredible ride throughout the morning, to the horrendous events of this afternoon and this evening. I wanted an adventure? I’ve sure got one!

Day 9: Vaduz – Andermatt

I’ve just arrived back to my hotel for tonight, situated in the Swiss town of Andermatt, a sleepy little place and pretty much a dedicated tourist destination for walkers and skiers. It’s not very big at all, in fact I’ve explored all there is in just under an hour, including grabbing a bite to eat – my first since breakfast this morning in Lichtenstein.

It’s been a pretty long and exhausting day today, despite the journey here only taking around six hours. I think I’ll head out for a couple of beers later and see if the town livens up at night, but I’m not expecting big things – That’s probably for the best though, because an early night is very much overdue.

I was hoping to set off fairly early this morning – have a quick breakfast and hit the road for just gone 9am, however I got chatting to the only other person in the hotel restaurant as I started to wake up with a lovely cup of coffee. I bump into the strangest and most wonderful people... Francine Massey, an American woman, was planning on taking the overnight train through to Spain in order to meet her husband who’s taking part in a three-cushion pool tournament over there. It’s a pretty big deal for them obviously, as Mike - her husband, has won seventeen trick-shot titles at world or international level. She was keen to hear about what I’ve been up to on my trip thus far and I thoroughly enjoyed chatting to her as I filled myself up on most of what the hotel buffet had to offer. Before I knew it 9.30 had come and gone and we were still talking!

Finally hitting the road at just gone 10am, I travelled through Lichtenstein on my way back to Switzerland – north this time after arriving from the south and hoping for a nice, easy, quick and uneventful ride through to Andermatt. This was apparently not to be the case, as just before leaving Vaduz, Two police patrol bikes who were in front of me halted my progress. I stopped and waited to see what they wanted, but they just sat there, doing nothing, but making sure that no-one (including me) got passed them. When two blacked out BMWs with Swiss flags on each bonnet pulled out of the entrance to an underground car park, I finally twigged as to what was going on and smiled. For three miles I tagged along behind the back of a Swiss diplomatic convoy out of Lichtenstein! Looks like I’m going to be having these crazy things happen to me whether I want them too or not!

Despite the size of Lichtenstein, it’s a surprisingly difficult place to get out of! I found the first couple of towns I needed to travel through alright, but the third was a real pain. Conflicting advice from locals compounded the problem, and I spent a good twenty minutes trying to get back on track. Once I’d found where I was going the rest of the day was pretty much plain sailing, taking the main road out into Switzerland, and following it most of the way to Andermatt, passing lovely quaint villages, bigger bustling towns and strange oddities along the way, from bizarre sculptures, through to llama trecking excursions! Maybe next time...

The highlight of the day has to be the ride through Klausenpass though. This was a ridiculous drive up and through the mountains, made both entertaining and nerve-wracking as I navigated my way past cattle wandering in the road and doing my very best to keep my eyes on the road. As I found out when I got to a cafe at the top, several bikers have died in recent years on this pass, with a regular rider (who seemed to work for Swiss mountain rescue) telling me how his friend (comrade) had come off at the highest point, and dropped 350 feet... Needless to say I made it through ok, and despite everything, had a real blast navigating my way through. I have three similar roads to take tomorrow, but as I understand it, they’re nowhere near as treacherous.

At the cafe I also met a couple of young German guys, David and Daffid, who were coming through from lake Constance, purely on a one day trip from their home towns, and exploring Switzerland for the first time also. Epic day trip guys! They seemed to really like Betty and her chrome, but not as much as the engine noise as they laughed when we said our goodbyes and I fired her up for the journey back down the pass.

By the time I’d made it to the bottom and reached Altdorf I was running pretty low on fuel. Not knowing when the next manned service station would be, I made my first big school-boy error of the trip and decided to try my luck at a self-service station. As I tried to understand the instructions and fed the machine €10, expecting the pump to start working, it didn’t. Instead I was told the machine had timed out and received a nice voucher receipt for my money rather than fuel. Not knowing what to do with it, where to put it, or who the hell to talk to in order to claim my money back or get some petrol from it, after ten minutes I left (in a bit of a grump) and found a “proper” petrol station a mile or so down the road.

Deciding I’d pretty much had enough of riding for the day as I left Altdorf, I made my way through to Andermatt on the dual carriageway. This cheered me up no end as I realised I was only 30km or so from my destination at this point. It also made a nice change to be able to get up some speed and feel like I was making some real progress, whilst still bearing witness to some fantastic scenery, not to mention tunnels through the mountains – something I’ve both come to look forward to experiencing and enjoy immensely.

Arriving into Andermatt around 4.30pm, I popped into the local tourist information office and found out about cheap hotels with garages in the town. As well as being a beautiful country, Switzerland also appears to be a pretty damn expensive place to be... Maybe it’s because Andermatt is a tourist place, but at €75 for an ultra basic room and “free” garage parking, I definitely feel like I’ve been stung. From the looks of some of the other hotels in the town though, I could certainly be paying a huge amount more!

It’s been a pretty cold day too here, especially driving through the mountains (to be expected perhaps), but apart from the very quick and infrequent spots of drizzle the weather has been pretty good. Very cloudy, but with the occasional break in the sunshine, riding through Switzerland has been most pleasant. I’m really looking forward to tomorrows ride out through to Basel and getting back out onto the mountain roads (First Furkapass and then Grindlepass, with Brunigpass to finish), but for now I think I’m going to put my feet up for an hour or so, relax, and then head back into town before retiring for a very early night.

Day 7: Tolmezzo – Arraba

I can’t quite believe I’m in Italy already – country six, so I’m officially more than half way through the list, and pretty much, the trip itself. Looking back on the last few days from Leipzig through to Fohnsdorf, I’ve been pretty busy both day and night; doing what I can to enjoy every second of the adventure, but also making sure that I’m making good progress and will be back in Holland in time for the Ferry without spending every waking moment on the road.

I’ve put in some pretty serious hours over the last few days – nine hours to Brno, eleven to Fohnsdorf, and another nine or so getting to Tolmezzo yesterday, with impromptu drinks and socialising at each destination. Plenty of noise banging beer glasses on the table before drinking in the Czech Republic, shouts of “prost!” in Austria as glasses were raised, and a more quiet and civilised, but no less entertaining and special night in Italy yesterday evening.

I had a great nights sleep in Tolmezzo, which is hardly surprising after the farce that was my slumber in Austria, however despite my best efforts, I awoke to find my jacket, jumper and gloves still soaking from the downpour that cut short my journey yesterday. Whilst I don’t think I would have actually made it to Verona, and I’m so glad I stopped at Tolmezzo, I had hoped I’d be a bit further through Italy. Despite my gear being wet I had no alternative other than to get back into it and head back on the road, trying to reach Varese. I figured it’d all dry out on the journey there eventually; and maybe it would have, if it wasn’t raining again as I packed my panniers ready to set off for the days travelling.

Any chance of today being at all comfortable soon went out the window, with non-stop rain, (some of which was pretty torrential in the mountain regions) soaking me and all my gear for the first 40km of the day. After that it brightened up a little, but rain was still frequent and heavy – the occasional tunnels through the mountains giving me a very short respite from the frankly horrendous conditions, but which were over far too quickly.

I trundled on though, trying to rack up as many miles as I could, but not forgetting to enjoy the scenery and the views, whilst also trying my very best to look on the funny side of things, thinking about what I must look like drenched to the bone and shivering as I tried to navigate my way through small and remote rural Italian villages dotted around the route – most of which was through beautiful mountain regions I never even knew existed, or could be so utterly impressive, although it was hard to appreciate everything as much as I would have liked as I did my damnest to plough on through the rain. On more than one occasion I had my rear tyre lock on me as I braked coming down the twists and turns of the mountainside. Still, the adrenaline kept me going, and I’ve been riding Betty long enough to know what to do when the unthinkable happens and I feel the bike sliding out from under me.

Eventually though, after five hours of being cold, wet, and pretty much fed up of feeling like I wasn’t actually getting anywhere as the road snaked down one mountain and up another for countless kilometres, I gave in.

I stopped at a hotel in Arraba just after 3pm, and rode Betty into the hotel garage which I’d noticed was open before walking into the reception with my helmet and gloves still on, rainwater dripping from my face, cold and tired from such an arduous treck. What a sight I must have looked! Happily it turns out that the hotel has a drying room, which now contains the majority of my stuff. There is also a sauna, swimming pool and jacuzzi downstairs and both dinner and breakfast are included in the €79 price for the night. Oh, and they have WiFi too. With every box checked, my numb hands struggled to find my passport as I booked myself in immediately.

The rest of the day has been spent relaxing, sorting out emails, updating the blog, catching up with friends I’ve not spoken too for a while and enjoying a long overdue and (I think) well deserved bath. Dinner was also fantastic! A great four course meal, accompanied by a fairly large glass of red wine. Having not eaten since breakfast, and being fairly exhausted (despite actually loving every minute of my trip deep down) today has been just what I needed to rejuvenate before I set out on my travels up to Lichtenstein tomorrow.

So, Italy. Thus far, amazing scenery - especially riding through national parks; crazy drivers who expect you to be at least 15mph over the speed limit at all times (I also think car manufacturers must omit indicators to save money in Italy too – nobody uses them!) and some of the friendliest and welcoming people I’ve ever met, but *really* lousy weather. I’m told this will improve tomorrow - fingers crossed.

Day 5: Brno - Fohnsdorf

A quick breakfast of scrambled eggs and “flipperz” (mini pancakes) awaited me in the hotel restaurant before I departed Brno - a place that I would have loved to have had a bit more time to take in. The Czech culture and the people I’ve met have truly been unique. Friendly, open and extremely patriotic; everyone I met seemed to relish the opportunity to share their passion for the country with visitors to the city. From the moment I arrived into the hotel to the moment I left Brno itself I was made to feel extremely welcome, something for which I am very grateful.

Leaving Brno and heading towards Wein on the duel carriageway, I wondered whether or not my next destination, the randomly chosen Fohnsdorf in Austria would be as rewarding a place to visit - I needn’t have worried. Whilst the Czech Republic was great to drive through, with some fantastic roads and scenery, I found myself totally unprepared for Austria.

The first part of my journey was fairly uneventful. Having fully recovered from the previous nights drinking session with Jonno and Petra (despite having no dinner) and having gotten a good nights sleep, I set off a little later than usual at 10.30am. It was a ride like most others I’ve had so far - some nice things to look at, amazing scenery and some lovely bits of road in-between motorways and the like.

Arriving into Austria at lunchtime (country number five!), I headed south towards Wein, taking the first turnoff for the city and somehow managing to end up headed for Budapest, Hungary...  This was the first time I’ve missed having the SatNav, but finding Wien from the motorway was pretty easy – I was back on track in under 10 minutes. Trying to navigate my way through the city was horrendous though, and I spent over an hour driving around trying to find the route out onto the smaller roads towards Baden and Bad Voslau; riding over and under the river several times due to poor signposting on the A2. Eventually I figured it out and I was away, but not before chatting to several locals, a South African guy doing some shopping with his daughter – as well as a few bikers, both on the streets (and roads) of Wein, and at a service station heading towards Baden.

Everyone I spoke to was more than happy to try and help me out, but for some reason I’ve also seem to have been tarnished as a mentalist, especially by the biker fraternity here in Austria. Hearing about my trip and where I’ve come from, where I’m going and the route I was planning to take through their country had people looking at me in disbelief. Maybe they knew something I didn’t... Every time I was told to simply follow the A2 to Gratz and stay there for the night, but no – my plan was Fohnsdorf and that was where I was headed, no matter what. From the look of the map it seemed fairly scenic, taking me through the heart of Austria, and after seeing most of (and being fairly disappointed by) Germany from the autobahn, I was in the mood to spend a bit longer on the road and a bit less time exploring my final destination, especially as I had no idea what to expect when I got there.

After enjoying a (very late) traditional Austrian lunch of dumplings with a coffee in Bad Voslau, chatting to a few kids who came to admire Betty as I rested, recharged and refuelled myself, I set off on my mission to find Fohnsdorf proper. The sun was shining and signage on the road told me it was 34⁰c with not a cloud in the sky – I’ve definitely lucked out with the weather so far – truly incredible, although it wasn’t much fun when I was trying to get out of Wein! Mmm, sweaty...

Whilst waiting for my lunch I decided to make a list of all the villages and places I’d need to get through so I wasn’t looking at the map after each one. Using the GPS bracket kindly left by the thieving scum who stole the SatNav in the first place, I gaffer taped the list to the bike and was ready to roll, from Bad Voslau to Berndorf, Gutenstein and Eisenerz on my way to Fohnsdorf.

I have been fully expecting Switzerland to be the most beautiful country to drive through on my trip thus far, and whilst I imagined Austria would be nice (with some great roads due to the route I’d planned on taking), words cannot truly describe the feeling of riding through the mountains for the first time – Huge pine trees either side of the road, twisting and turning through the hills - and mountains... I thought the Czech Republic was a real treat, but I’ve never experienced anything like this. I had to keep reminding myself that my focus should be on the road, rather than everywhere but.

Hours past as I completely fell for Austria; I can totally understand why some people never leave this place. I pulled in to a bikers cafe high in the hills around dinner time for a short rest and some sugar before carrying on again. The place was really busy (unsurprising as the weather was incredible) with a good 40-50 bikers sat outside eating, drinking and doing the usual admiring of bikes. A quick coke and a chat to the owner about routes and I was on my way again.

The sun began to set as I was still a long way from Fohnsdorf, my trip through the mountains taking a lot longer than expected. What I hoped would be a 5pm finish had passed by several hours ago as I continued onward. I had considered just stopping anywhere and catching up tomorrow as I’ve that extra day from missing Prague, but no – for some reason in my mind, it was Fohnsdorf or bust.

After working my way through the mountains and back to some semblance of civilisation it was beginning to get dark. The directions weren’t working and I was stopping several times an hour to check the map. Eventually though, I found myself on the final stretch; a lovely bit of motorway with tunnels through the hills, lit up as night had well and truly set in, the stars visible above the feint sillhouettes of the mountains. I was very tired by this point and wanted to get settled for the night, but at the same time loving every kilometre I was chalking up.

Finally, signs for Fohnsdorf directed me off the motorway and into rural Austria once more. It was a short trip, 5-6km, but enough to make the world of difference. I was almost there! Or so I thought... at about 9pm, over ten hours after setting off from Brno, the road stopped. Major reconstruction meant the route to Fohnsdorf was totally closed. From speaking to a German cyclist out with his two young daughters I was able to find some diversion notices which finally lead me to my destination.

Arriving into the town at 9.30pm with no idea what the place would be like, or any particular reason for being so gung-ho about getting there, I set about trying to find my way around. Signs mentioning a British pub were a real sight for sore eyes – thinking that I’d be able to find a room there or at least be understood! After driving through the town three or four times with no success I pulled into a bar in the middle of the high street to ask for directions. A group of four women had been watching me each time I’d ridden past the central square, so I headed over to see if they could help me out.

Of all the people I could have asked, I don’t think I could have been luckier. Not only was one of the women pretty fluent in English, but she ran the tourist information office on the street next to the pub! So, in the middle of the night, Ing’e was kind enough to open up the office and try and find me a room for the evening. Easier said than done it would seem. Of all the small rural places I had to visit, it just so happened that there was a Ferrari event happening at the Red Bull Ring (the Austrian equivalent of the Nurbergring) over the weekend, with every hotel fully booked! After a couple of calls though, she’d managed to find me a room with an extraordinarily friendly Austrian couple who spoke no real English about a 35 minute walk from the centre of Fohnsdorf. Breakfast wasn’t included and I had to be gone by 9am, but there was a garage and a bed, and that was all I needed!

After sorting the room out and unpacking for the night I decided to head back into Fohnsdorf for a beer and see if Ing’e and her friends were still there. Buying them a drink was the very least I could do for their help! Despite the length of the walk back into town, they were indeed still there and immediately invited me to join them. I found out later on that evening that they were all friends growing up but had drifted apart – Facebook had reunited them and they meet and socialise regularly as a result. Several hours passed as beers were drunk and my “schule Deutche” became worse. With my half understanding German, their half understanding English, and Ing’e to translate, we got along just fine!

It quickly became apparent that Fohnsdorf is a pretty quiet town where not a great deal happens the majority of the time. The pub was fairly busy with 10-15 other locals, some related, others not, but all of them finding my determination to get to Fohnsdorf unfathomable. The barman imparticular found it most bizarre that I would want to actively track down such a remote little town. After ordering a few beers inside as well as outside, I soon had everyone talking to me - some in German, some in English and some in neither after so many drinks! Time passed quickly and the beer which I had been enjoying began to get replaced by Austrian drinks, with a young guy called Tomas introducing me to a specialty – White wine and cola... Representing the “youth” of the UK, I felt I had to do something similar, and so the locals of Fohnsdorf were soon introduced to the wonders of the Jager-bomb, with tiny bottles of Jagermeister dropped into glasses of Red Bull. Whilst most had never tried one before, I found out that in Austria it is more popular to use Strawberry juice as the mixer, with Tomas’ girlfriend readily ordering another round.

2am came and went, Ing’e and her friends left, and I was still in the bar drinking with Tomas, his friends and some of his family - including cousins and his uncle and aunt. At 3am the barman decided he’d had enough and wanted to close up! Fine by me – I had to be up and out early in the morning anyway. Upon leaving the bar though, two of the girls in the pub seemed to have other ideas... NadL and Stefanie bundled me into a car, and off we went out of Fohnsdorf to an Austrian nightclub! It was becoming light outside by the time we left the club, and they were kind enough to give me a lift back to the place I was staying, vierzig b, bach-strasse. Finally getting to bed at 6am after a truly spectacular day of riding and a truly unexpected evening of conversation, drinks and laughs I was asleep in moments, but not before setting several alarms to make sure I’d be up in time to get ready to leave...

Deciding to come to Fohnsdorf has been the best decision I’ve made on the trip thus far. It’s a really lovely place, and at some point I will definitely be going back!