We are having a "pause" in the Posthorn Inn in the town of Weisman. What started as a potty-break for the girls has descended into a full 3 course lunch. Considering that much of today's soggy 80 km.'s has consisted of nonstop sheets of rain and duck-drowning puddles the size of swimmable lakes, this pause is as much a relief from the weather as it is a chance to speak with Mother Nature.
But rain is something you can find in Seattle, Tahiti, Paris or Tokyo. If one traveled only in perfect weather we would miss out on many of life's most interesting adventures. This particular bike trip, an annual event for Thomas and many of his oldest friends, occurs in late May, coinciding with Corpus Christi and the last, 3 day weekend in May. The weather should be stunning and considering that we have come to Bavaria, where the German summer typically comes early, this cold rain in which you can see your moving breath, is as much of a surprise for us as it is for Bavaria.
Still, not for a second have we allowed the clouds to dampen our spirits or rain out our picnic. When the rain threatened to capsize things, good old Ulli would wave us over to the Lidl Market where he had chocolate ice cream bars for everyone. Outside we would stand like happy kids, laughing at the weather and talking with the locals who all had tour questions or biking comments. Eventually the rain would let up and everyone would set out again, refreshed and ready for the road.
Of course we still have found plenty of beautiful fields to enjoy as the rain highlights the gold and red flowers bursting out against the young green wheat. Or the almost electric green of the forests as we duck under their dense foliage for temporary cover as the forest shimmers down droplets overhead. But then there are also castles, called “burgs," full of history, paintings and artifacts from 1100 ad. There are beautiful baroque churches with gorgeous statues including this one of the Virgin Mary who is ready for a feast day. And then there are the actual local catholic processions in honor of Corpus Christi, parades through the town with the cross in front and the local oomph-a band keeping time, with occasional pizzicatti blasts from a canon as the priest blesses the people, before all make their way to the local Kneipe to enjoy the regional beer, perhaps hefeweisen, zwieke, Pilz or franken.
Of great interest for everyone is the topic of music. For me Germany is the home of “Holy German Art" created by Wagner, Schumann, Bach and Beethoven. Yet compared to many of these folks, I am trapped in the wrong century. And yet of my own culture's music I find that many Germans here are experts. Get one of them on the topic of Jimi Hendricks, James Taylor or David Bowie and you will have attended a university-level lecture on the art of guitar playing, instrument making or recording techniques. Trust me, they know their stuff. But that doesn't make it dry, no, rather rock music is a language of self-expression that is unknown or perhaps unavailable for them in their own language. Considering how difficult breaking out of the baroque box of the 17th.c., which walls in the lives of many Europeans, it begins to make complete expressive sense. And that my own culture appears to lack this history to me, begins to explain my own adoration of all things ancient and European. So interestingly enough I begin to learn more about my home from outsiders as they do of theirs from me.
One universal language we all speak fluently is cuisine, and one night of over the top gourmet cuisine from the kitchen of one of Germany's most celebrated and lauded chefs, who just happens to also have a popular cooking show on TV, is something we can all agree on as delicious! One gimmick that really works in his favor, besides proximity to the temple of Wagner in Bayreuth, is his take on tapas. Though originally a traditional 3 course restaurant, this chef adapted Spain's love of the small plates into a great stage for his theatrical cuisine. Now an appetizer comes as three different but highly complimentary small plates to tempt and tease each and every tongue. And though still a 3 course dinner, suddenly you can enjoy nine courses as your palette explores the globe of flavor, taste and texture. And nothing is better than sharing a plate with someone, especially when all you want is a taste. Even if it comes as a last minute decision, regrets are only as small as the portions, but we never have them.
But a bike tour is about biking and I promise that we most certainly biked, and I have the pain and memory of several 80 km days in my legs as proof. But against the panorama of giant green forests, fields awash in bloom and fairytale towns with plenty of coffee and kuchen to keep you from your path, there are also the UNESCO world heritage sites like the Baroque Church of the 14 Saints (Vierzehn Heiligen) which was definitely a sacrifice as you ascend the steep mountain terrain leading up to the pilgrimage church designed by Balthazar Neumann. It doesn't even have to involve religion when you step into this whipped wonder which has welcomed pilgrims and sinners alike, in addition to tired travelers, for centuries. This was my second encounter with the church and though brief, it still managed to lift my spirits and enchant my weary eyes.
Still there is nothing like finally reaching your evening destination after many long hours of peddling up and down hills, rerouting due to flooded trails, fixing bike issues or exchanging whole bikes for ones with working breaks...pulling into that night’s hotel is like a deep breath after emerging from the deepest water. Of course it is into water we all go once we are unpacked, for the evening ritual always includes a sauna and then a bracing swim in the pool. Tired limbs feel rejuvenation and weary souls find rest in the hot steam and cool submerging waters of each hotel spa. Afterwards all come together for the nightly meal and much appreciated stein of delicious local beer. Then it's stories, laughter, studded with moments of listening and then more laughter until someone announces their departure which ushers the exodus of all. And let me tell you, you haven't slept till you've enjoyed a hard days ride, a plate of wurst and a thick dark Bavarian Bock beer. You are quite literally “sleeping with the angels."
Then at 7:30 am the alarm goes off and you begin the process all over again with a hearty breakfast and reconnoitering at 9am to set out for the next day's destination.
Though I have spent time in Bavaria there is simply nothing quite like it from the back of a bike. And to book end my journey, in a way, I shall recall briefly the first time I came to Europe years ago with Perry.
Though I have spent time in Bavaria there is simply nothing quite like it from the back of a bike. And to book end my journey, in a way, I shall recall briefly the first time I came to Europe years ago with Perry.
Bayreuth was our destination and is where we made our home for 2 weeks while Perry lectured on 8 Wagner operas being performed that summer in Bayreuth. My recollections are of a steamy town burning up in the summer sun, confusing experiences in a world renowned theater with operas I did not fully appreciate or understand, suffering under the petty weight of a bad outbreak of acne on my face and having utterly no understanding of Europe, Europeans, culture nor an ounce of personal savoir faire. I regret that my greatest experiences was obliterated and nearly ruined under the weight of my huge and overwhelming stupidity and narcissism. If you can read my words in heaven Perry, pace.
But this obscene failure is what ultimately set the stage for my future European travels and eventually this glorious return with Thomas and his friends aboard 18 bicycles. Even a little rain could not ruin this exultant moment riding up the great hill towards the theater where I first encountered Wagner and his Parsifal, Tristan und Isolde, Das Rheingold, Die Walküre, Siegfried, Götterdämmerung, and Die Meistersinger. Over the years I would hear and see many of these operas many times and though this time it was merely to pay homage to a memory, I know that I will be back one day for real to hear a Wagner opera in his theater, perhaps with Thomas, and I will recall again with new joy all that Perry Lorenzo taught me one summer in Germany.
Today though our tour ends in the beautiful jewel box of a town call
Würzburg. Here too have I been once before with Thomas when we met at the Kloster of Munsterschwarzach for a few days retreat before my departure to Prague. This time we had more time to walk through the gilded streets with decorations adorning every doorpost, lintel, nook and cranny upon which a putti can fit. Walking through the time warped town which echoes with the sounds of Mozart and the whoosh of silken damask gowns across the cobbled streets makes one grateful that the bombs of WWII bypassed this jewel. 
And as we walked up the great Dom amidst groups from Asia and beyond and entered into the giant church, we were greeted by Germany’s famous Bamberg Rider, a symbol of human dignity and nobility. He sits high on a ledge and watches over the tomb of King Heinrich and his beloved wife Queen Cunegonde, who is said to have walked over burning plowshares once to prove her innocence. Together these two nobles lie on a tomb designed and chiseled by Germany's greatest artist, in my opinion, Tielman Riemanschneider, encircled by famous scenes from the tale of their lives. And what could simply be flat scenes in cold stone become living images of pulsating veins, swirling robes, fluttering wings, emotion laden gestures and the pangs of death itself. Each of the 5 scenes is an opera in stone and would inspire Michelangelo himself if he were ever to have come to Germany back in the 16th c.
All the beauty makes one aware of one thing, hunger, so bidding farewell to the Bamberg Rider, King Heinrich and Queen Cunegonde, we make our way to the Bamberg Hofbraü to savor brats, white asparagus, potato dumplings and Bamberger Beer, which we decide is too bitter to our tastes. But good food is good food, and off we go back through the town to reach the Bahnhof, where we enjoy one last treat...coffee and cake at the McCafe! Well, vacation time is over and we have to return to the real world sometime, and embracing it with open eyes and clear conscience is better than having it forced over you with pushed out hands and down-turned face. Instead we smiled and ate our cakes with joy and paid tribute to the memory of our great trip.
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