07 Sep 2011

Breisach, Germany to Colmar, France and Back (55 Km)

Germany is like a giant magnet and we, little bits of steel.

We tried leaving Germany behind this morning, heading out under threatening skies, the streets and air still damp from last night’s rain, our cycles and selves crossing over the Rhine into France, land of croissants and crepes and a town called Colmar.  It was Colmar that was our undoing.  We couldn’t find the bike route out, the few cycling signs we had been following for the past 25 km having completely disappeared amongst the city’s winding avenues, cobblestone streets, and heaps of tour groups.  How is one to decipher the tourist map for this town when every street name starts with “Rue”?  The best I can tell, we’ve reached the intersection of Rue This Day and Rue This Route.  Where to next, Piglet?

Standing in front of the train station, a strapping young Frenchman asked if we needed help.  Studying our map, he was unable to tell us how to find the route north and instead offered up that we should return to Germany, where there are better signed (and dedicated) cycle paths.  Say no more young man, we’ve already left, retracing our route back to Breisach, pedaling frantically like Dorothy and Toto in hopes of outrunning that tornado of a rain storm that’s hot on our heels and that big truck barreling up behind us on this white-lined road that’s kicking up my New Zealand Cycling PTSD.

In the end we didn’t quite manage to outrun the rain (nor the truck) but we did get back to Germany, an audible sigh of relief at the sight of that first cluster of signs pointing us in the proper direction.  Not that we needed them, having passed this way only a few hours ago, but a welcome sight nonetheless.  Time to re-group and re-route.