Cycling Through the Czech Republic – Part 1
I was in the middle of my semester break – it was mid-July – and I had no more important appointments or deadlines to meet. I was enjoying this free time and sense of freedom. But I also knew that very soon – at the start of August, to be precise – I would be starting a new chapter and beginning my work placement. So I had two weeks left in which I could still make the most of the opportunity to go on a trip lasting several days and have some new experiences. My brother was also on holiday at the time, and, thinking ahead, I’d asked him for his gravel bike, as he couldn’t use it anyway. Actually, I thought, I’d probably only use it for a day trip around my local area at most. But why not take it abroad?
Travelling by bike was something I’d wanted to do for ages. I’d done it once before with my mum many years ago, but my memory of it has faded; only the good feelings that trip had sparked remain. So I decided to set off on another journey like that. Unfortunately, none of my friends were available at such short notice to go on a week-long active holiday. On the one hand, that’s a shame, as you’re only too happy to share such memories with others, but it also has the advantage that you have complete freedom to set your own destinations, plan the distances to suit your own preferences, and clear your head for several hours a day. Where exactly to go, that was the next question.
A few criteria helped me narrow down my search a bit. I reckon I could cover about 100 km a day. What am I basing that on? I remember that, on the cycle tour I just mentioned, I once covered 125 km nine years ago. Back then, as now, I did it without any preparation. What’s more, I also managed a 130 km route once last year. I was pretty knackered afterwards, though. Well, it should be a bit under 130 km, then. And perhaps a bit flatter than in Switzerland. And preferably a bit cooler, if that’s possible. Unfortunately, the weather’s hard to predict at the moment. So, generally speaking, I’d head north – if only for the temperature, and bearing the topography in mind. I’d also like to cycle across a country, simply because it sounds brilliant. “I’ve cycled right across Country XY – and all on my bike!” Unless it’s Monaco, that sounds like quite an achievement to me.
As the third ‘T’ – after temperature and topography – the focus was on the terran accessibility, ideally as direct as possible and without too many changes. Two options caught my eye, as they were compatible with a fourth criterion: I wanted to visit friends I’d got to know during my exchange semester in Sweden. Two of them live in Groningen, in the Netherlands, and one in Munich. Either I take the night train from Zurich to Hamburg, where I change to a train to Flensburg, to travel from Denmark through Germany all the way to Amsterdam; or I take the night train to Dresden, from where I could travel through the Czech Republic, on the other side of the Ore Mountains, and back into Germany. There’s also a direct train back to Zurich from both Amsterdam and Munich. From Padborg to Amsterdam, with a detour to Groningen, that’s about 600 km, so 6 days. From Dresden to Cham in the Palatinate, it’s about 500 km, so one day less on the bike. The journey to Dresden without having to change trains also seems a bit more pleasant to me, and when I read about the almost constant headwind along the North Sea coast, I made up my mind: the Czech Republic will be both my destination and my route.
The Czech Republic, as the country is officially known, is also a more exciting destination than Germany and the Netherlands would have been. German and Dutch are my mother tongues, but I don’t understand a word of Czech. So I downloaded a map of western Czech Republic, along with some audiobooks and podcasts, onto my mobile, packed three changes of clothes, a power bank, a toiletries bag – which, true to its name, I’d filled only with the bare essentials – some cycling gear, three water bottles (which I’d soon add a fourth to), and a few sweets into my rucksack, borrowed a mobile phone mount for the bike from my dad, and on the morning of my departure popped quickly into the bike shop to give the bike a last-minute service. And so, that very evening, I was already on my way. It was quite exciting. Had I taken on too much? On the train, I felt a mixture of awe and anticipation. As luck would have it, I shared my compartment with a young Czech man who was just on his way home from a cycling tour in France. As we chatted, I realised that choosing the Czech Republic had been a good decision.
Tag 1: Direkt aus dem Zug auf das Rad
I wake up at 5.50 am. I’m glad I have no trouble sleeping on the train. For the first few hours, I was able to stretch out across three seats and even lie down. Unfortunately, that changed in the middle of the night, after which I had to sleep sitting up. I was so tired, though, that I fell asleep sitting up without much trouble and was only woken by the first rays of sunlight in the early morning. I know it’ll be about another hour before I arrive in Dresden. Plenty of time to close my eyes again after a quick trip to the loo. At 6.30 am, my mobile vibrates. It’s my alarm, which I’ve set to vibrate out of consideration for my fellow passengers. I can make good use of the last half hour to briefly go over the upcoming leg of the journey, plan my breakfast and find a currency exchange bureau. I reckon it can’t do any harm to exchange a few euros for Czech korunas, as I don’t know whether it’ll be possible to pay by card everywhere.
After the aforementioned breakfast and having withdrawn around 1,000 kroner (≈ €50), I set off towards the Elbe. Passing the Frauenkirche and the rest of Dresden’s beautiful old town – where I would certainly have spent more time had I not already spent a few days here earlier – I reach a lovely wide cycle path, popular with many recreational cyclists, running right along the banks of the Elbe. Finding my way today is very easy: I’ll be cycling along the Elbe Cycle Route all day until I reach Ústí nad Labem. The first few hours fly by. It’s pleasantly cool, there’s hardly a breath of wind, and the cycle paths are very well maintained. After about 25 km, I arrive in Pirna and decide to take a short break here. The town centre is charming, and the stop at the café is just what my bladder needs. So far, I’ve always cycled within sight of a settlement, but after Pirna the landscape begins to open out. I’m now cycling mainly in the shade, as the woods here still stretch right down to the Elbe, and the Ore Mountains are slowly rising up around me.
I’m really looking forward to the next few kilometres, as I know I’m now at the gateway to Saxon Switzerland. Before long, I can see the hills along the Elbe splitting open and the tall stone pillars rising up along the riverbank. The kilometres pass a little more slowly here, not because it’s suddenly more strenuous or because I’ve run out of energy, but simply because every 500 metres I feel the urge to stop for a quick photo. The rocks rise ever higher and more impressively until I reach today’s highlight, just before Kurort Rathen. Nestled between the dizzyingly high cliffs of Saxon Switzerland, the Bastei Bridge appears; it not only allows the path to wind through the rocks but seems to hold them together. Today’s route turns out to be a real showstopper. I glide effortlessly along the remaining kilometres, inspired by the stunning surroundings, energised by a meal in a charming restaurant just past Bad Schandau, and motivated by the fact that I’d soon be on Czech soil. Shortly after three, I arrived at my hotel, where – thanks to the fully equipped kitchen – I was even able to cook some pasta that evening. Not bad for 900 koruna (≈ CHF 35).
(Part 2 to follow…)