BRRRRVARIA

I am sure Bavaria looks great in the sunshine. I can picture the beer gardens full of happy people. Dudes in lederhosen driving tractors through the grassy hills. The outstanding farmers markets busy with shoppers. The birds chirping. The cuckoos cuckooing. I can even picture this on a cloudy day. Or perhaps in a drizzle. But in the non-stop heavy rain, Bavaria is every bit as dreary and miserable as any place. Especially when the thermometer simultaneously drops to 5 degrees Celcius. This is the unfortunate reality of one of Europe's springs in human memory: spring 2013.

The camping enthusiasm has plummeted after setting up and breaking down a wet tent several days in a row so I splurge on a hotel room. After a hot shower I finally can feel my toes again and it is only 6pm as I lay down on the very fluffiest bedding. It is a done deal, I am not leaving this room tonight. Some scrambling through my bags produces 2 granola bars and an orange. That will do for dinner. The next day is just as miserable so I check into a youth hostel. Roommate and fellow bicyclist Ulli also splurged on a too expensive hotel room the night before,   watching TV in bed and eating potato chips for dinner.  "Eine ganze Tute!"

Germany has a great network of unpaved bike paths. You don't need to be a chemist to understand what the combination of sand and rain does to these trails. And together with the paths, my bike, my luggage, my clothing, just everything becomes a big muddy mess. I have met many cyclists who started weeks ago and can count the dry days on one hand. Some are abandoning all further travel plans to take the first train back home. I count myself lucky to have started in sunny Southeast Europe. And to stay optimistic I just don't look at the weather forecast.