Elbe part 2

All the rivers we have followed have massive stop-banks which in theory will catch the floodwaters, except that the lines etched on to some of the buildings or banks, with crucial dates, tell the stories of the ones that got away. 

More recent floods

The stop banks (digue in French, Deich in German) sometimes have the cycle path on the top, sometimes on the near side to the river, sometimes on the other side, sometimes on both or none at all, where the cycle path does its own thing, unrelated to the stopbanks. It is great to have the choice, in wind, rain or cold, of being on the top, from where you have a view, or being in the shelter 3-5 metres below. And it is great, if the rain is cold and steady, or if the sun is hot, to have a shady forest path to either shelter in or have some blessed coolness.

The views from the Deichs were largely of agriculture or forest, with the river being close or not-so-close over the journey. The former DDR, through which we passed for most of the 1100 or so km, still has enormous fields of crops (mainly wheat, barley, maize, beet, colza), as far as the eye can see at times, formerly tended to by the collective (after the large estates were broken up) but now in the hands of groups of families, according to people we spoke to. They said that the huge combined harvesters and other agricultural machinery are hired as needed so that they don’t have the capital cost. 

Unlike NZ, with farm-houses every couple of kilometres apart, here it is villages that distance apart, with the animals housed in barns beside the houses and the crops grown on the land between the villages. 

Further north, where the Elbe formed part of the border between East and West Germany this pattern is slightly different but in the main, it was the vast fields of one crop or another that really impressed us. Sometimes we would see animals outside, especially cows but also sheep grazing the sides of the stop banks, with electric fences shifted as required. However, the number of animals in barns has to be enormous. We didn’t see any pigs or chickens and we know that both these animals have to be housed somewhere, as there is a lot of pork, poultry and eggs eaten on a daily basis. The 80-year old who invited us home in Heubsh told us he had 13,000 chickens, down from the 30,000 he previously had. They give 12,000 eggs a day. 

What happened along the stretch of the Elbe that formed the boundary between East and West Germany, was that the Soviets cleared the border area for 5 kilometres (on their side), demolishing all in their path except for the buildings they wished to use and giving access only to a very limited number of people. 25 years after reunification there are now some newish houses and buildings, along with some that clearly were useful during the time of occupation but there is no real infrastructure of villages, so you can’t buy a beer, coffee and cakes or groceries for kilometres at a time, maybe 20km, maybe more, without leaving the path for a few kilometres. There are also some trees and bushes that have grown since 1990 but it is a bare-ish sort of landscape all the same - there are several places where you can climb a former watchtower and get a 360º view of the lie of the land. Virtually none of the paraphernalia associated with the former borders remains, the watchtowers are there as a small reminder but they have been changed into viewing platforms. There may still be mines in the area, as it was heavily mined but we didn’t see any warning notices - just read about what had been there.

Memorial to those who died trying to cross the border here

Line shows former Soviet Union border and inner German border
- the Elbe was part of this for a 95km section

View from old watchtower - bike path on the stop bank

View in the other direction from same watchtower

Two houses along the Elbe that maybe the Soviets used

A rare eating place along the old inner German border. Delicious goulash soup!

Elbe, Part 1

The Elbe at Bad Schandau, 14 July

The Elbe River starts in the Czech Republic and flows out into the North Sea. Our intention was to follow it down from Prague but due to time constraints we decided to start 6km on the German side of the Czech border, at an old spa town called Bad Schandau. 

Dresden - waiting for the train to Bad Schandau

There is a National Park and an abundance of beautiful places to hike, bike or explore beyond where we started, including Prague, but we didn’t feel we had the time to do this, and we were right. Cuxhaven, on the North Sea, is a long way from there and France, with bikes, even using public transport, is a long way from Cuxhaven. Bad Schandau, as an ‘old' Spa town, has a lot in common with other spa towns we have visited, especially in France. We briefly explored it and checked out their coffee and cakes before launching ourselves on an 1100km journey of exploration.

Bad Schandau main street

Oh yes!

En route!

First morning downstream - Königstein

The direction of the descending Elbe is mostly north-west, and coming down river you are mostly into a head-wind. However, cycle-tourists coming up-river because of the wind supposedly being a tail-wind didn’t seem very impressed by their experience. We certainly struggled with the wind and weather at times. Once, for a period of about three or more days, we wore five layers of clothing to combat the 10º temperature with a strongish headwind and intermittent rain. 

Bikes and Rodney in rain gear at former border post in the north

Several times, after we had already pitched the tent, torrential rain fell for an hour or so. On the hard, dry ground, small puddles appeared, growing into larger and larger puddles. After the first one, we quickly removed anything off the ground-sheet part of our tent to the built-in floor part and all stayed dry. The largest of the puddles had dried up after an hour or two and all was well. Even if it rained during the night we were able to keep everything dry, as we have a massive plastic tarp that we can wrap around everything. We also carried waterproofing tent spray with us, which we did use on a couple of occasions. 

Our very useful plastic tarp can be seen here

The previous night this was all huge puddles after a downpour

Better than camping grounds for us are the Kanu Clubs which offer accommodation. Not all but a number of watersports clubs offer space for tents on their riverside grounds. Since they already have showers, toilets and lots of boat-storage space, plus often some bunkrooms for canoeists and kayakers coming down river, it seems an excellent idea to get extra revenue for the club by welcoming cyclists as well. Usually 5-10 euros per night. For us the bonus is that the sites are small, not overcrowded with families, swimming pools, bouncy castles or mini-golf - and in addition they often have covered spaces where you can boil a jug, microwave something, sit, use a computer, watch the rain…all the things that aren’t possible in a basic camping ground, which in Europe don’t usually have kitchens, games rooms or common rooms as we expect in NZ. An extra bonus is that most of them sell beer on an honesty box system at a little above supermarket prices. Some even had a restaurant attached and sold meals at a modest price, probably less than we would have paid for the ingredients. When the weather was wet, even if we slept in the tent we could leave our cycles and panniers under cover. Our best bonus was in Magdeburg, where we were able to rent a large chalet-style room for an extra €10.00 a night, i.e. €20.00 all up. We stayed there 2 nights and it felt like much longer!! Able to have a day off, charge all our electronics, do some washing, do some writing but unfortunately, even with all this luxury, still no wifi for the blog. I can write using Evernote but I need the internet for photos and ‘publishing’ each post. 

Our €20.00 cabin

Roof, table, fridge, microwave, jug...and honesty-box beer