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Friday 2 September 2011

Day 32: Friday 2nd September 2011. Altotting to Altheim. Bavarian Cleavage and Goulash


When I wake at 6 its still foggy outside but light. I can see a farm house not too far off in the distance but they can't see me so although my spot is somehwhat lumpy and brambly I stay and have breakfast. Although bacon, sausages and eggs are a nice treat it's good to be back on the oats again. As the fog clears my camp becomes slightly more visible and as I'm probably on a farm I get a move on. I'm just about to go and the urgent need for a trowel comes on. This is no mean feat to undertake in the brambles and with the amount of clothing I have on. The main problem always in this situation is the fact that I wear bib shorts. For those that don't know, bibs are lycra shorts with built in braces. They go against your skin and this means in order to take them off you need to take off all items of clothing on your top half. This means having to take off my helmet, hat, waterproof jacket, which means gloves, long sleeved top, short sleeved top and if that is not enough my heart rate monitor band that straps around my chest. You are really supposed to wear this against the skin but I find if I have it over the braces it stops them chaffing my nipples. Top tip there for any one who has this problem. So top clothes removed, I only have my trousers and over shorts to deal with and I'm home and dry. Just brambles and pine cones to worry about......
As I heave the bike through the undergrowth to the field I am finding it hard to imagine how I got into the bloody woods in the first place. I think just the intense need to go to bed overcame everything else. I remove a few thorns that have stuck in my waterproof socks and push the bike through the long grass at the side of the field. Again I'm soaked but a few miles will probably dry me off a bit. No irate farmers to deal with or other scary incidents and I'm back on the road.
Yesterday I received a reply to a www.warmshowers.org request that I had made and the guy got back to me explaining he would be on holiday. He did however give me the location of some bike shops and other info. Amongst which was this nugget: “You should be OK if you camp in the woods in Austria as long as you are out of sight. Sometimes a Hunter may discover you in the middle of the night but if you are a foreign he will probably leave you alone.” The words ... “Hunter in the middle of the night...” is not a phrase that I'm comfortable with. I'm sure it sounds worse than I interpret it. What is he hunting? Does he have a gun? A knife? Does he eat it or put it on the wall? What's in these woods?.......ooooooo.
I jump on the road and head in the direction I was heading in last night. Four km later I'm coming back past the camp. In the dark and fog last night I hadn't seen the sign to Altotting. Loads of much better camp spots become clear up this road but I probably wouldn't have seen them either. At the town I stop in at the big M and find someone has agreed to host me in the next town along; Altheim. Because of last nights fun I decide this is a good idea to take up the offer, although it doesn't meet the 100km a day. I'll leave fresh and ready to take on a good days haul to the next place which is at least 100km away. Whilst in Altotting I find a camera shop and bite the bullet and buy a universal charger for my camera battery. The nice people at Strauss also create me a wire for charging the battery from the bike. Whilst they are doing this I leave both batteries with them to charge and go and find a bike shop. The bike shop have the tool I need to tighten the chain and do it for me but I stress to them not to overtigten the nut because it can break the plastic.
On the way to Altheim and my warmshowers host, I pass through the village of Marktl. I'll give you a bonus point if you can tell me what famous person was born there. And when I say famous I mean about as famous as a person gets. From here I follow the Inn Valley and watch the clay grey river hurtling along. Its speed is scary for me, this is the fastest big river I have ever seen. I tick another town off the list as I visit Simbach, not realising that as I pass over the river into Brunau I'm also passing into Austria and I have managed to traverse another country. Chuffed but a long way to go still. I manage to coerse a couple on the other side of the road to take a picture of me in front of the sign and then amble into town. I'm glad to say things are instantly different and you know you are in a different country; signs are more colourful and houses and bars some what smaller at first glance. The road signs also have numbers so amen to that. The rain comes down and I'm quite glad I'm staying in a house tonight. Altheim here I come. When I arrive I head south for the house and look in at the town hall which has a map outside, unfortunately my street is not on it. A formidable woman in national dress and huge cleavage calls me over, downs her red bull and demands to help me. How can I refuse. She doesn't know the street but says some locals will be along in a few minutes who will know and I should wait for them. She is actually a coach driver and is driving the Austrians back to her home town in Bavaria for much drinking, Oktoberfest style. The locals arrive in varying degrees of costume which I must say I am quite warming too, especially the ladies dresses. A guy shows me the way but suggests that I should come with them instead. It's a hard offer to refuse but I feel I should make it to my host. I find the street no problem but the numbers are not in order according to one man I ask. I say I can see 70 but am looking for 68. He says this means nothing and points me off down the road. After 20 minutes asking and looking I end up behind no 70 at 68!! Heinz my host and his family are superb and offer me warmth and hospitality for all my stay. No sooner have I had a shower then I am served up two massive portions of goulash and rice at the table. The enormous servings make finishing the vienesse apple strudle quite difficult but not that difficult. I bought a few beers as a present, again not knowing that Heinz lived with his family. Not only do none of the family drink, the beer I bought was German. EPIC EPIC FAIL! Heinz thinks I'm up for a party and calls a friend up to take me out to a bar, I'm pooped though and the thought of not getting back till at least 1am makes me a bit tired there and then. We both agree for him to go out and I will stay in. I'm virtually asleep by 10 when he leaves so it was definitely the right decision as he didn't get back till 2. It too turned out to be an Oktoberfest style night with dancing and music so that's two I've missed in one night, bummer.
I just cant make the miles and the party. Next adventure will be at a much more leisurely pace.

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