Austria

Beside me, the Danube flowed peacefully. Austria beckoned. What lay ahead? I could think only of mountains and snow. The river led me forward but I was fighting an undercurrent of anxiety. Had I made it far enough? Could I quit now and return with my head held high?

The sun shone brilliantly off the waters surface. The unexpected warmth helped to thaw tensions. Maybe Austria wouldn’t be so difficult after all. A proper nights sleep had given birth to a new man and I felt a spring in my pedal stroke. Each turn in the river offered something new for the senses. Natures slideshow in full 4K, HD.

Following the Danube into Austria

Twists and turns of the river

I tried and failed to absorb it all. There was too much sky, too much detail and too much of the world for me to capture and contain. Sometimes it’s easier to appreciate a picture than the real thing. Time and space trapped in a digestible chunk.

Despite the perfectness of my surroundings it wasn’t long before my mind wondered off. “I’m peckish… God my arse hurts… I could do with a coffee…”. Unfortunately, I’d brought myself along for the ride.

Austrians seemed particularly friendly. An elderly gentleman stopped to chat as I rested on a riverside bench. He’d read about people making long distance bicycle journeys and was happy to meet a ‘real life’ touring cyclist.
“I wish I’d done something like this but I’m too old now” he said. I suddenly felt very appreciative of the opportunity that lay in front of me. He left me with some pessimistic warnings of snow. He didn’t seem to fancy my chances of riding in winter.

I rested in Linz for a couple of nights as I woke up feeling a little ropey. I was staying with a friend of someone I stayed with in Frankfurt. This was the second time on this journey people had passed on contacts and it was typical of the friendliness of the Warmshowers community.

Feeling rested I pushed east towards Vienna. The temperature had dropped significantly. The first few miles of the day were a battle to get warm. Even though it was freezing I chose to wear just my cycling shorts on my lower half. It proved to be more comfortable once I was moving and warm. To my amusement this drew looks of astonishment from locals. You may have been mistaken for thinking I was riding starkers. A commuting cyclist pulled alongside and quizzed me in German about my attire.
“I’m sorry, I only speak English” I explained.
“Ah, of course.” she muttered. I felt strangely proud.

The road to Vienna was cold. Barren vineyards, desolate tourist towns and a freezing night in the tent added to the bleakness. I arrived amidst a flurry of snow showers. The mercury was dropping.

I spent an enjoyable three days in Vienna. My host and I sped around the city on fold-able Brompton bikes. Tiny wheels and twitchy steering made for an exciting ride. Hopping on and off trains and buses was a fun way to explore the grand boulevards. It was a far departure from my cumbersome home-on-wheels.

The hills above Vienna

I avoided the museum’s and operas deeming them too expensive. On one hand I felt guilty for shunning culture – on the other I was mindful of the year ahead with a finite budget. How and when I spent my money was proving stressful. I have this likely misplaced notion that unless I’m living off bread and water I’m not doing it properly. It is largely up to me how easy, difficult, short or long I make this journey. It’s not clear why I’m attaching conditions to validate what I’m doing. To test myself? To appear more courageous in the eyes of others? Perhaps.

Heavy snowfall meant an extra night in Vienna. The most obvious route to Istanbul was to continue along the Danube through Slovakia and Hungary. Instead, I decided to turn my nose south towards the Adriatic coast. It would be a longer, hillier route but I was drawn by the allure of sun and sea.

I made uncertain ground leaving Vienna, slipping and sliding in slushy conditions. My stomach flipped as front wheel tried to escape beneath me. Originally I’d planned to find a route to Zagreb by cutting through Hungary. I changed my mind when I came across signs for the Eurovelo 9.

Slip and slide

The weather made everything more difficult. Stopping for a rest wasn’t really an option as I’d quickly lose my hard earned body heat. The prospect of camping was grim.

I ended my day in a small village and plucked up the courage to knock on a few doors. With my heart beating a little faster, I forced a smile across my frozen cheeks. Queue pleading camping gesture…

“Nein” “Nein” “Nein”.

Three denials in quick succession. My heart sank. Embarrassed, I tried one last property with Canadian and Scottish flags adorning the gates. It turned out to be a riding school. After a little explanation they offered me a sofa in the common room, a shower and a packet of biscuits. Result!

Warmth!

I still feel awkward and nervous asking in this way. I guess it’s because I’ve put myself in this predicament – I’m not in any real trouble. Why shouldn’t I just find a hotel? Why not just ride on or jump on public transport? Nevertheless, it leads to interesting experiences and it’s encouraging to witness the willingness of others to help.

The route through the rest of Austria was difficult. I unwittingly took a mountain road that involved much pushing and swearing. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was somewhere I shouldn’t be. I saw the headlines – ‘Foolish Brit perishes on Austrian mountainside’.

Hmm… Is this safe?

~35kg bike with slick tires made for an interesting descent

Shit

I made the Austrian Slovenian border three days after leaving Vienna. I was completely exhausted but eager to reach the coast. In my dreams I was riding along in a T-shirt to the gentle sounds of the Mediterranean. Only 400km to go…