Day 3: Monday 12 July, 2010

What a change. Luxembourg is beautiful and definitely one of those places to take the family. The camp site was in the middle of nowhere, so it seemed, but actually only 1 hour from Luxembourg City.
Not to panic anybody, but it seems I have a bit of a wobble on the front at low speed and the friendly campsite manager (whose name I never got), also happened to be the village mechanic. 10 minutes later and with a set of tools, the bike was off again. Did he charge??? No he just smiled, ‘call it service.’ He said. I have never seen anything like it. He admired the bike, my ride, the reasons for doing it, said I was mad and then we said our goodbyes.
I only made it 2o miles this morning. I stopped at a shop to buy some Cappuccino sachets (which have been a life saver) and as I walked back to the bike the strongest wind and the heaviest rain I have ever seen descended from the heavens... When it rains here, it really rains. The rain really reminded me of last year and as I stood and starred a man from the restaurant next door came out.
‘You don’t want to ride in the hills while this rain comes down.’
He was right (although I suspected that he wanted another wayward traveller to cross his palm with silver. And he was happy to oblige). As lunch cooked I rushed around looking for my bike cover. The only problem with having everything black is that when you need something in a hurry, you’ve no chance. Everything looks the same. I ate my sausage in a roll (baguette to you and me), and it was massive and covered in ‘French’ ketchup, the weirdest thing ever... Still it was very filling, and I waited for the rain to subside.
The run from Luxembourg took me out through the valleys and down across the German border. Where yesterday I was able to get a picture of the sign post as you enter Luxembourg, the only notice you have as you cross into Germany is a sign which says: ‘Be aware, there is a toll for motorways in Germany’, and that’s it. You kind of catch a glance as you ride by, but nothing else appears to let you know you’ve arrived. Oh. Apart from the odd Porsche, Audi and Mercedes which passed me, coming out of nowhere at about 120 miles an hour. The speed signs say 130km, but that seems to be an advisory...
The A8 is a fantastic road (as all roads in Germany appear to be), but the speed is something completely alien. How on earth more people aren’t killed I have no idea. Still they manage it... I didn’t see one accident, where in France there were 2, in Belgium 4, and in Luxembourg only 1 (and that was a woman obviously going far too fast in the rain, although why she was even driving in the rain is beyond me). Anyway, back to the plot...
The roads in Germany are fantastic. However, they really need to sort out the junction (slip-roads). I lost count of how many junctions I missed, and 4 times I took the same road, trying to find my way to Kornwestheim.
It hasn’t changed much from when I was here as a teenager. The Town-hall is still there as is the theatre and museum, next to the park, where we used to meet, congregate and smoke. Funny, I don’t know why I thought it would be any different.
Stuttgart, however, is the usual sprawling mess you expect of a big city. I finally found the campsite which is in the middle of the city in what appears a disused car park. I was tired, hungry, hot and bothered... and yet once those things had been solved the harsh exterior seemed to melt. Let’s see what the morning brings... On to Switzerland.