Yesterday I drove into the Moravian Karst, today I drive through it. Directly behind Sloup are the first lime towers and the first grottos and caves. I drive to the Punkwa Valley, which is a dry valley here, because the water has found its way through the Swiss cheese of the underground. The path is . . .
Although Jan and Zdeněk have to leave the house at 7 in the morning (Jesús and I too, of course), they prepare a breakfast for everyone. Thank you very much, boys – that was hospitality at its best! I cycle from Olomouc, which lies behind me in the morning mist due to the early time. . . .
I am still amazed what the Na hřišti in Leština can do for so little money. Also the breakfast is more plentiful than yesterday in the much more expensive pension and in addition there is also an excellent coffee! In Litovel I do not follow the EuroVelo route, but the cycle path 51, which leads . . .
Breakfast is not as rich in the Czech Republic as in Poland. However, I have never experienced a richer breakfast anywhere else! There is no sausage and cheese, after all there are cucumbers and tomatoes, as well as grain rolls, which are quickly sold out. And the fact that you have to ask here for . . .
After 7 degrees Celsius at night I am happy when the sun comes out in the morning, warms the man and dries the tent (at least one side). When I start driving I forget to switch on the track recording again, which I only notice after eight and a half kilometres when I take a . . .
No, this is not the last day in Poland, as Viktor suspected in his commentary! And this is due to the fact that the Eurovelo – and I too – is still making a turn to the east just before the Czech border in order to cross the Sudeten Mountains in a location that is . . .
After a storm night and a cat, who decided to wait for the rain in my tent and then meowed all over my ears, because she was not allowed into the inner tent or even into my sleeping bag, I can’t really get into action this morning. And with my GPS, I’m at war again. . . .
Wroclaw has undergone many invasions in the course of its history: Bohemia, Prussia, Sweden, Germany, Russia: everyone was there. Not to mention Napoleon! In recent years, however, there has been a new power that is permanently changing the cityscape: Dwarves. The first were in the eighties as an expression of a peaceful and subversive protest . . .
The aroma of mirabelles flatters the nose, while I continue up the Trebnitz mountains in the morning. Because they grow here again wild at the roadside, just like apples, pears and plums. Trebnitzer Berge – that promises descents and makes fears of inclines. And at 14% (up) I have to get off and push. Luckily, . . .
In the morning I drive a little bit in a circle, because my GPS and I can’t agree on how to get out of Gostyń again. But of course we soon reach an agreement and leave the city on country roads, first with a separate cycle path, unfortunately no longer afterwards. Here the rear-view mirror, . . .