On track and off it.

 I should tell you more about the castle we stayed in last night, first. 

Don't get me wrong, it was very romantic. A fairy tale sort of a castle with turrets and huge rooms and vaulted ceilings. This was reflected in the cost. But Prince Charming or Rapunzel were nowhere to be found. (As you will read in a moment...) There was no breakfast and no food or drink available at any point. Not even a little chocolate on your pillow, which is a challenge when it's so remote. It was also cold. In the evening, we sat in all our clothes, under the duvet. The shower gel had not been refilled which is an issue when travelling light and we never saw a soul from beginning to end of our stay. Just an envelope at Reception with our name on it. I suppose none of that should matter, but when it's a four star hotel...?

There was no chance of us drying our clothes even though we used the hair dryer on them until it had probably had enough. This morning, we ate our yoghurt and an emergency flapjack for breakfast, washed it down with water and set off. 

We set off in capes. We thought yesterday was wet. It was just 'warming up'. The weather app said heavy rain all day with 100% chance of precipitation all morning. It was true to its word. 

Ten miles in, we reached our first village. There was a coffee shop. We dripped in and the lovely staff greeted us as if we were normal people. We drank coffee. Then, in a moment of reckless abandon, I returned to the counter and pointed to the most disgraceful piece of cake I could find. I decided that our situation warranted it.

The riding today was in flat lands. We could see the hills surrounding us at all points but they were, for now, keeping a respectable distance from the Danube. This meant that the river spread out. There were several times when we had the river to one side and either rivers or lakes on the other side of the path. What with that and all the water coming out of the sky, it sometimes felt like we were cycling in the Danube, rather than beside it.

It was only another ten or so miles to Linz. This is the only city we pass until we arrive in Vienna. We crossed the Danube and went into perusal mode. Travelling at about six miles an hour on a tandem through a city has got to be the best way to check it out and size it up, including making decisions about where to eat. The driving rain did make this more challenging than usual. So too, did the cobbles and tram tracks. We had done much perusing, including an inspection of Linz Cathedral and were now looking for somewhere to eat. We eventually decided on a restaurant in the impressive and very Austrian, main square. 

This meant negotiating one more set of tram tracks. It was one set too many. We were crawling along which was a good thing because suddenly it was like someone ripped the road from under us and we were down with an impressive sounding crash. Within about two seconds there were about five men at the scene. They uncleated us from our pedals, then they extracted us from our capes. This is not easy when you clip into sprung pedal clips and we loop our hands through tapes inside our capes. 

I can't believe how unhurt we both were. About a second after the event, we both shouted "Are you OK?" in unison. The bar bag ties were ripped off but I have spares. I have spares for just about everything which is why my tool kit weighs more than David's (our son's) bike. That isn't an exaggeration. 

Still. It shook us up. We went straight in to the restaurant, ate, and had sugar in our coffee.

It was a lovely meal

 We chose a Greek restaurant. "When in Austria..." an all that. 

When we emerged, Moussakaed up, it had stopped raining. 

We got back on track in every sense as we continued the journey. The last two days have been just shy of fifty miles which is less than on some trips, not to mention being largely flat. The thing is, I promised Kate a nice cycling holiday. The weather app insists that the weather from tomorrow on, is sun and 0% precipitation. The rain started again. We began to fantasise about having electric bikes. With roofs. And doors. And heaters. And stuff like that.

I reckon about 80% of the bikes on the Danube route are electric bikes. (Sorry about all these percentages, I don't like stats)

Riding an electric bike means you can dress like a motor cyclist. Heavy duty coats and waterproof trousers. Not shorts and amusing capes. We got pretty adept at 'caping' today. We discovered that wearing our coats under our capes was very effective. We began showing off about bits of our bodies where there were dry patches.

The rain stopped, the sun came out (in a sort of way). We stopped and drank tea. Why is it that not a single European Country or any of the Americas know how to make tea?

A jug of warm water which the tea bag has floated around in for about half an hour just won't do it. We poured out stuff that looked like it had emerged from some dark and sinister world. I returned to the counter and asked for a pot of hot water. I would guess by the guy's expression, that it's the weirdest thing he's ever been asked for. 

As we set off from our tea stop, the heavens opened. Cape on. (Again)

We are now in a wonderful barn of a house in the middle if nowhere. (Again)

The land is still flat with distant hills but there are houses dotted throughout the landscape. I love the way boundaries don't seem to mean as much in places like this. I wonder if the lack of fences (or defences) illicits a greater sense of community?

Our host, David, makes up for all the over serious or, in some cases, completely absent hosts that we've had dealings with so far. When he heard that we had pretty well no food for the evening, save for an apple and a slice of cheese, he foraged and returned with a fantastic selection of breads. 

It's warm. The shower is excellent and he has put a load of beers in the fridge. Byee🙂

Stopping for coffee. Already soaked through

                     Time for naughty cake

Caught sight of ourselves in a mirror window in Linz. OK, it explains a lot.

        Looking back to Linz from the bridge

     Bread foraged for us by our host, David

                 View from our window