|
Dinkelsbühl Sherry was a stiff puppy in the morning. I told her, "The fifth day is always the worst." She ignored me-the only sane thing to do. In early afternoon we stopped by a pond to eat. Sunlight glinted off the water and fish jumped and splashed catching their lunch. Many bike riders were out for a day ride and waved as they rode past. It was great to see all different ages out for a ride. The highlight of our day was when we explored Dinkelsbühl. I loved those German town names. Dinkelsbühl was near Detwang. Dinkelsbühl was a medieval walled town with the most attractive buildings we had seen in Germany. A visual feast everywhere we looked. Every window brimmed with flowers. Each building was constructed in the traditional Bavarian style: topped with an A frame and darkstained wood timbers set into the sides. Sharon and Sherry slipped over to the market while I stayed with the bikes and read. They wandered through Bavarian doll shops and inched their way through the open air market stretching for blocks. The crowds were so thick it took them half an hour to progress a couple of blocks. They sampled German deepfried flat bread like a doughnut but with a thin sheet of dough where we have a hole. They refrained from buying any souvenirs. Sherry had a pronounced limp when they returned. Once we had seen St. George's church it was late. After Sherry phoned Murray it was dark. And we still had a few kilometers to Hainsfarth where our host family lived. By the time we arrived there, we had racked up seventy kilometers for the day. Our host mother said: "That's enough." While feeding us wicked apple strudel and cups of tea she told us her husband didn't tour, but she and a girlfriend had cycled to Budapest along the Rhone River. It hadn't been difficult cycling, but there was a lot of traffic. We retired early, taking advantage of soft beds and separate quarters. |
|
|
Book Info