​(15miles which is not very far but the weather wasn’t very nice (by which I mean, it was pissing down) so I was persuaded by a local café owner to stay locally.  This is particularly wimpish and I should have gone on really, particularly as it’s all down hill from here – for a while anyway).
 
I have pushed the bicycle uphill a lot – and ridden her a little today.  The views have been spectacular – but I didn’t bother with a photograph (except from much lower down) as it’s overcast and hazy and I know it would look crap.   I am currently only  945m above sea level and to put that in perspective, be aware that the Alps (being the highest mountain range in Europe) rise to more than 4,000 metres above sea level.   I can see I will be very puffed indeed when I get closer to ‘proper’ ascents. 
 
The cows have bells – or some of them do - the naughty ones who keep trying to run away, or don’t come when they’re called?  The bell rings when they’re chewing the cud. 
 
There were also plenty of wildflowers on the way up – big campanula, and the wild strawberries are ripening.  Guess what I’ve been eating?   
 
I was wondering why the rooves had sideways tiles and some of them had ladders on in East Germany.  Susanne explained it was for the snow (to prevent it from falling on people’s heads when melting?).  The rooves here, as well as being steep sided, have teeth – for the same reason, I guess.  (My macbook keeps trying to tell me that ‘rooves’ is a mis-spelling.  Look, I grew up in the seventies – and ‘rooves’ was correct then, NOT roofs – I didn’t even know there was a debate about it).
 
I saw one hare – damn, they run fast!
And I see a stork at least once a day – and not just wooden ones in gardens.
 
I also saw lots of fairly new mothers out walking their babies in prams.  And, down in the valley – every other house seemed to have a large wooden stork in the garden announcing a new birth.  Fertile around here – is it something in the water?  (though 9 months ago would have been September – so maybe it was just a very boring month for everyone?).
 
So here I am, in a comfy room in Gästehaus Frans-Jozef not 24hours after being in a comfy room in Gasthof Pilcher.  This could be habit forming.   I had supper (of roll, cream cheese, tomato etc bought in supermarket yesterday) in the bus shelter when I got here.  As the storm built, it got colder, so I went in to a café to get warm – it was just about to close, but as the rain came pouring down, and there were a few customers hanging around anyway, the proprieter (a lovely woman with three children running around the store) took pity on me and gave me extra cake gratis (end of the day stock) with the hot chocolate I ordered.  As I sat there looking out at the rain which was not looking like it was going away any time soon, she suggested a local guest house, and even phoned them to check they had a room – only problem is, she did not say Gästehaus Frans-Jozef but said Swiercot – so I went off looking for a house called Swiercot – not realising this was the name of the owner not the guesthouse!  So I went right on past the guest house – up the hill and beyond – getting very wet feet from my leaky shoes.  It wasn’t until I asked someone if they knew of a guesthouse called Swiercot that I was told there was only the one – and then we saw the name plate on the gate – ‘Sweircot’.  By this time I was damn well going to stay as I’d had enough.   Bleurgh.  
 
It appeared to be a large family with three generations present that I could make out:  Grandparents, two couples and their children.  They welcomed me into their midst, while the men sat watching football (Poland vs. Northern Ireland).  The younger woman could both speak good English – one of them having lived in Scotland for several years, eleven years ago.   (I found out at breakfast that these families weren’t related – but they were regular guests.  Like the campsite ‘Camp Burek’ where the owner and guests were Dutch,  the owner here was Polish, married to an Austrian – so word of this guesthouse gets passed around friends in Poland –hence all the Polish guests, calling in en route to their ultimate holiday destination –Croatia.  It’s about 700miles from Poland to Croatia, otherwise). 
 
Tried to call Steve – but wifi connection is a bit erratic so gave it up as a bad job. 
Checked rail connections and not impossible to get railway to Ljubljana from this side of the border, so I’m not going to panic.  I’ll try not to dawdle either, but I’m not promising myself. 
 

​I do believe that hotels and guest houses exert a gravitational force.  Help yourself buffet breakfasts, free wifi and warm and dry sitting rooms are hard to leave behind.  The Mönichkirchen guest house was only €30 inc. beer and breakfast so down on the €41 of yesterday.
 
Huh: takes about 10minutes to freewheel 5 miles downhill– but I don’t like to think how long it takes me in the opposite direction!
From Pinggau it was a push up a 14% hill to Friedberg, which felt easier than the drawn out slog of yesterday.  It’s all relative.  Then the clouds let down lots of wet stuff again so I take shelter in the town square under a thoughtfully provided awning, waiting for the rain to stop/pause or just go easy.  Just as I wrote those words – the awning decided to roll itself up!  Either there’s a sensor that can tell the rain is lessening or someone is standing nearby sniggering, with their finger on the close button. 
 
The road continued up and down, with a bit of a dogleg to St Johann in der Haide and up to magnificent views of the valleys and Sankt Magdalena – finally arriving in Wagerberg which is the end of this stage of Eurovelo 9.  I spotted a sign for a guesthouse – and cycled back to it – only to find it was deserted.  ON again, I saw a small sign for ‘FAm-Dao’ and ‘Zimmer Frei’, so I rang the doorbell. 
 
The door was answered by a petite Vietnamese woman who spoke no English – so out came my point-it book.   Yes she had a room – in fact she had several and a large, and comfortable upstairs with a kitchenette, all empty.  Price – including breakfast €25 (if this downward trend continues they’ll be paying me to stay with them).    It’s also useful to know that a ‘Zimmer’ is a room – not a walking aid. 
 
I discovered the strawberries I’d bought had leaked juice all over my bag – and over my knitting – gasp!  I tried to soak it off but not having much success.  I thought I might have time to catch up on daily drawings, but Mrs Dao, for that was her name, wanted to know all about me.  With the assistance of google translate we asked each other questions – though she would not use the keyboard.   I was curious as to why she appeared to be all on her own in this spacious house, and not even any other guests.  She has been in Austria for many years and has three children – all at University in Graz.  But Mrs Dao was far more interested in my trip – and seeing photographs – therefore it was about midnight before I went to schlafen and I was too tired to do any drawings or blogging.   Managed to skype Steve and Seth though – and wish Seth good luck on his move to Bristol next Saturday. 
 

​ Wow: I’m meeting Nina in Slovenia in just 5 days time!  I have plans to get the bicycle serviced and leave it in Ljublijana and take a bus to Bovec.
 
I woke with the light and started to pack up the tent – to avoid potential witnesses to the heresy of camping wild – as soon as I awoke.  When I’d rolled all the bedding up and put it away – I looked at the time: 05.30hrs!  Could have knocked me down with a feather!  But my strategy worked:  By the time the first early morning dog walkers and cyclists came down the path, I was sat on the bench at the end of the grassy lane, loading up Rowenna with the luggage, innocently. By 7am I was moving, having removed an entire generation of slugs and the odd snail from the tent and panniers.  By the time I’d found a place to stop for breakfast I’d already ridden 15miles alongside the canal. 
 
Highlights – watching three ducks make a synchronised landing into the water – they quacked at each other, afterwards, as if comparing notes.  Checking out the stoppers at some of the turbines – falling in that little waterway would be lethal, I suspect – unless it’s more shallow than it looks.   I made up for the early start by sitting around blogging until midday…
 
The trouble with getting off to such an early start is it gives me an excuse to mooch.  When I made it to  Wiener Neustadt, lunch was a good reason to stop again – then the rain started (not heavy) so I waited a while for that to clear up but then I ran out of excuses and got going.   The rain was actually warmish, just coating the surfaces with wet.   
 
I got my first glimpse of steep hills (the edge of the Austrian Alps?) that afternoon – some topped with castles.   The valley is closing in and there are far more trees around.  This is skiing territory now – though I’m following the River Pitten – which is a fast flowing alpine river and looks like it would be an interesting paddle in a kayak. 
 
Into section 6 of the Eurovelo 9 route, and I’m looking about for accommodation again.  A helpful couple (who, incidentally, had stopped at the roadside to look at a large leech on the damp pavement!) – pointed me in the direction of Gasthof Pichler in Petersbaumgarten which is where I pitched up.  (Pitched up in Gasthof Pichler – groan).  Comfortable room and the guy running it was friendly and helpful – showing me a place to hang my tent out to dry etc.   and bringing me a beer to have in my room (since they were shutting up downstairs by the time I arrived). 
Tomorrow I have a hill to climb to the ski resort Mönichkirchen.
 

​It’s been so lovely staying with Martha/Stefan and Anna in Vienna that I can feel that familiar butterfly flutter of anxiety in the tummy as I leave the nest.  Both very different, both wonderful hosts.  I had breakfast with Anna – coffee and her home baked banana bread and apple cake.  She then took it upon herself to clean the remaining mud off my panniers – THANKYOU!
I had a trip back to Martha’s to collect my mislaid keys and shampoo from underneath the mailbox (as she’d already left for Uni by the time I got there).  From there, an interesting trek across Vienna looking for the Eurovelo trail again (parts I’d not seen before).  I actually saw a bunch of young people painting graffiti – must have been 20 of them – and, since it obviously wasn’t a clandestine activity at all, I presume the Viennese authorities hold an enlightened attitude to such artistic endeavours. 
 
Not long after the beginning of the Eurovelo 9 stage 4, my favourite event of the day took place.  I was cycling past Karlsplatz (I think!) when I spotted an artist putting watercolour washes over intricate ink drawings of local monuments.  I stopped to have a look, as I always like to look at people’s works of art.  He said “Aquarelle” to me, as I was looking, and I replied “Yes, watercolour, I know because I like to use it myself” and then got into a conversation about daily drawings.  He was interested enough to have a look, so I showed him, and he particularly liked the painting of a Berber woman pouring tea.  He was disappointed I didn’t have it with me, but offered a swop – one of his for a portrait of HIM!  I was taken aback – not being accustomed to painting in public (harder to get in the ‘zone’ if one is self conscious) but, hey, why not?  So I sat down and painted him – he made some effort to keep still whilst puffing on his e-cigarette.  He was Chinese (I think) and a couple year’s younger than me.  He had one daughter who had one son, so he was a grandfather.  When I was done with my painting he guffawed with laughter – I’ve not seen many people truly ‘guffaw’, but he certainly did.  He said my painting was too beautiful to be him – I’d left out wrinkles, but he was laughing because it was the spitting image of his father.
I got a small ‘pen and wash’ of the monument we were sat outside and we were both happy.  He said his daughter would help him keep in touch with me and insisted on taking a selfie of us both and then we shook hands rather formally.  Happy days!
 
I moved on, but got a bit frustrated as there was a missing sign around Gunderstrasse and I went up and down it about 5 times.  In the end I just headed south until I met up with the cycle track again.  I like following the Eurovelo 9 trail, when the signs aren’t missing, as it keeps to cycle paths and parks as much as possible, which makes for pleasant riding. 
 
Supper was amusing – I stopped at a wooden shack which had a huge crowd eating outside – figuring it must be good to attract such a large following.  It served open sandwiches and seemed to specialise in traditional Austrian foods.  I ordered a portion of Blutwurst (which I knew was a sausage, but realised, too late, that it probably translated as ‘blood’-wurst!), kren, senf mit brod.   This will teach me to order something when I’ve no idea what it means:   I was a bit taken aback to get a HUGE phallic looking black sausage, with raw, grated horseradish so hot that it cleared my sinuses with fire, and French mustard which actually managed to cool things down!  I was impressed that I managed to eat half this feast with the accompanying brown bread.  I stopped at a roadside fruit stall up the road and bought myself a punnet of strawberries to make up for the experience. 
 
It was getting late by then, and I needed somewhere to stay.  These were scattered towns with the industrial suburbs of Vienna evident, so I didn’t hold out much hope of stealth camping.  A hotel looked possible, but I’d missed the check in time and reception was closed so I continued on my way. 
 
I was cycling along a canal built less for travel, than for electricity – it was lined with turbines – some working, some disused.  Not far from Traiskirchen, I spotted an overgrown grassy lane leading to a field (bit like the one at the bottom of Bev’s garden down Wreyland Path).  I decided this was the perfect place to camp, so long as I packed up early to avoid dog walkers.  I was asleep by 10.30pmish. 

​Spent the entire morning blogging and drinking coffee (and plotting on how to meet Nina in Bovec in Slovenia).   Anna left the apartment at 8am, leaving me her keys and instructions on where to find the coffee (what more does a girl need?). 
 
Damage so far – have lost my large bunch of keys (luckily, have spares for the big D lock, which was the only thing on it I used); have mislaid my shampoo and shower gel – probably at Wombat’s; and I have dropped my camera and damaged the battery catch so it no longer stays closed – duct tape to the rescue for that one!  AND I have lost that last minute cap that Presh put on my tooth just before I left England – it broke whilst I was eating dried fruit and nut mix -  so now I look the epitomy of the English person with awful teeth (as if I didn’t before).  I shall have to stop smiling. 
 
Didn’t do much at all today – which was lovely and very self indulgent.   Did two daily draws and a lot of blogging (which I enjoy, believe it or not).  Bought a couple of lightweight tops and an instant dry, polyester/lycra skirt which should be OK for riding in AND look OK for going out, from a second hand shop to wear in the sunshine.  Bought a present for Anna to say thanks for having me.  Then gravitated back to the best craft beer in Vienna – that American Beaver Brewing Company with the micro-brewery on display in the back of the bar.  I thought of Seth.  Good music, relaxed ambience, excellent beer – what more can one ask?  I shall try and persuade Anna to go back there later (when she gets in). 
 
Got a message from Martha to say I left my bunch of keys there – so I will call back to see her tomorrow morning on my way out of town. 
 
Anna didn’t get back ‘till late, so I went out for a solitary and last farewell beer at the Beaver Brewing Company just to denumb my bum where I’ve been sitting around on the computer all day.  See – it can still happen even when I’m NOT at home!    I have enjoyed my lazy day, and watching the brother cats being brotherly and naughty and athletic. 

​Both Martha and Stefan come from outside Vienna – Martha is from Linz and hails from a long line of farmers.  Her mother had sent her some herbs from the garden to make tea.   We also had some home made blackcurrant juice for breakfast – ‘ribisl’ (different word than ‘johannesbeersaft’! in Germany, meaning red or blackcurrant) – I loved it (the word and the drink).  Martha explained the double boiler type equipment that makes the manufacture of it relatively easy.  We had a breakfast of muesli and fruit (my favourite breakfast), chocolate, peach rooibos tea whilst sat in the sun on the balcony – bliss. 
 
 I hadn’t realised how small a population Austria has – far smaller than England (though about twice the size of Wales).  They are both evidently proud to be Austrian and of their heritage.  I was given a present of hazelnut wafer biscuits made in Vienna called ‘Manner – original Neapolitaner’ – which I might send back to Steve as I know he likes these.   
 
After breakfast I looked at some of Martha’s art books – particularly on Paul Flora – who illustrated the “Good Soldier SveJc” and added favourites and patterns to my queue on Ravelry (particularly the “not a drop” shawl http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/not-a-drop).  I was sad to move on, but, after painting the hosta and climbing plant on the balcony, while Martha did some Uni work, I packed up Rowenna (losing my keys and shampoo – which I didn’t realise until later – they [whoever ‘they’ are] say that you leave something behind because you don’t want to leave) to go off and sit in the park before meeting up with Martha (again) and Anna (another knitter who has offered to host me) at the knitting group in a LYS (Local Yarn Store) called Wollmeile.   I had a lazy afternoon blogging  (bit like this morning really) before setting out to cycle to the Wool Shop.  Cycling in Vienna is a pleasure – there is often a purpose built cycle lane with a curb separating it from the main traffic. 
 
The knitting group was smaller but as lively as our knitting group in Spin A Yarn – I showed them a photograph of the SAY group –and took theirs for posterity.  They were interested in my knitting (English throwing style contrasting with their unanimous ‘continental’ style, of course) and in my trip.  Several of the women reminded me, in appearance and demeanor, of the two Austrian women who used to come to the Hobbycraft knitting group in Kingsteignton – Eva and Agatha (not convinced Aggie is correct).  These two women were best friends and had grown up in the same Austrian village, going to the same school.  They had both met English soldiers and had married them, coming to live in Decoy, Newton Abbot – next door to each other.  One of them had children and grandchildren, the other didn’t, and one of them had been widowed a few years before, but they remained close friends and did so much together – it was an amazing story I think.   They both returned to Austria to visit family at least once a year (not necessarily together!). 
 
I couldn’t understand much of what was said  - though Martha and Anna did their best to translate the gist.  Anna left early to buy a tap(!) but we arranged to meet in a café close to her apartment.  Turns out the café was closed – but I went to the Beaver Brewing Company –just up the road – to email and had the best (read most British) beer I’ve had yet  - mmm – and was soon joined by Anna, who had a glass of stout.    We retired to her apartment in an old building (in complete contrast to Martha and Stefan’s!) with parquet flooring and high ceilings.    Anna has two young boys – aged 7 and 9yrs – who were with their father for a couple of days, so we stayed up late exchanging stories.  Anna has a Greek father and has inherited his Greek good looks – she’s very beautiful – but has separated from her ex only last Easter (as he found a blonde bimbo, by all accounts).  I listened to her struggle to get a good job – she has one now, as the projects Manager of a translating team.  I also heard her fabulous birth stories – she achieved a normal birth after a LSCS first time round – despite having gest. Diabetes.  She’s a very determined woman.  In the mean time, two young, black male cats danced around us – one called Chocolate ice-cream and the other Nightshade – that’s translated from the German and they look identical so the names are interchangeable I guess.    
 
I slept in the top bunk (the younger boy’s bed – thanks Timon!) which was double sized and the highest bunk bed I’ve climbed up to.  The two cats demonstrated climbing a ladder (a sight to behold) and came up and investigated me several times in the night. 
 

I woke up feeling the worse I’ve felt this trip – nasty headache with associated nausea, and some dull and achey sort of sciatic pain all down my left leg – bleurgh.  I’m fairly sure I should have just gone to bed MUCH earlier last night, after that early start.  So, after drinking more water, I took my thumping headache downstairs and curled up on the platform beds amongst the cushions and went to sleep (after checking out) for a couple hours, before the arranged meetup with Martha (from Ravelry) at 1pm for lunch. 
 
This did the trick – the headache was only dimly evident when I woke up, and the pain down my left leg a distant memory.   I was a little bit late meeting up with Martha at the corner of Mariahilfer Straße and Museumsplatz – she recognised me immediately and I her (even though we’ve never met).  We went for a meal in a café amongst the museums – and very good it was.  Martha is a lovely woman – really warm and friendly (well – she’d have to be, to offer a complete stranger a bed for the night, wouldn’t she?).  She’s a student at the University here, in ‘Buildings Engineering’ – having moved into this field from architecture.   It’s very mathematical – which validates my theory that knitters fall into two camps – the mathematical ones, and fluffy, creative types, with some overlap!  (Guess which camp I fall in?)
 
We had knitting in common – and Martha is prolific, with a love of Rowan patterns and yarns especially.   After our meal, we wondered around the Vienna – to a garden, where we had coffee in a café overlooking the green area, next door to the butterfly house.  I would have liked to have visited the Spanish Riding School but it’s very expensive so I gave it a miss.  Then through the Naschmarkt, which is enormous and sells everything – but especially exotic foods, spices, cheeses, olives, fruit and veggies etc.   We had baklava as we wondered along (it’s no wonder I’ve not lost any weight on this trip yet). 
 
I collected Rowenna and luggage from Wombat’s, which is right beside the market and Martha collected a Viennese equivalent of a ‘Borisbike’ to cycle alongside me.   We  cycled to the Design museum (MAK – or Museum of Applied Arts), which has free entrance after 6pm.  There we viewed a collection of glasses (who knew there was so much to know about the design of spectacles?); stools and chairs (I liked this); ‘accidental’ architecture by Josef Frank; and the most amazing lace collection that I know Mary DeSalis would love to see, but which I could appreciate all the more, because I’ve seen Mary’s work and know the skill and patience involved in its creation.
 
Then we went back to Martha’s home – a modern flat with all mod cons in a relatively high rise block only built in 2009 (iirc) not far from the huge park – part of which is a permanent fairground with dodgems and ferris wheel and the like.  The flat is decorated with IKEA (there are TWO stores in Vienna) furniture – I loved the fabrics Martha had used to line the glass cupboard doors and the wilderness of plants adorning the balcony.  It was a comfortable home (full of wool!) for the newly weds – for Martha and her beau, Stefan, have only been married since March (and the big church wedding doesn’t take place until September – if the dress arrives from the US in time – it’s only been 7 weeks so far!).  Stefan is a medical student in doing his final year (I think) – with a 5hour exam on neurology, paeds, psychiatry, obs and gynae and ENT coming up.  Despite this, he seemed remarkably relaxed and cooked our supper of Chicken and mango with sticky rice – mmm.   We also had Austrian white wine (made with a grape that can cope with relatively cool conditions) and home made cake. 
 
Stefan disappeared before midnight, as he had to be up early for work. 
Martha and I stayed up discussing knitting, art, books and all sorts ‘till gone midnight.  We even discussed politics - did you know Austria have just elected a new President? The guy Martha voted for got in, which she was pleased about because of his green connections. Think they have proportional representation - i.e. there's another round until one candidate achieves a majority.

I’m going to add an addendum as I got a message from Martha.  This seems particularly apt,this morning, since the conversation we had was about never voting for anyone who actually got in – and we’ve just had the referendum on whether the UK should remain in EU and I was on the losing side – again!
 
Martha said: “I think there was just a small miscommunication in our brief politics chat - I just mentioned that the 2 candidates in the run-off vote were a former leader of the green party, and a key member of the far-right freedom party. I didn´t talk about my motivations for voting for the elected candidate (or else I would have gone on and on!), but it was actually quite difficult to choose from the original 6 candidates, and party connections were not the only (or even the main) point when making the decision.
The president´s power and duties are different from many other countries; I think the closest equivalent in the UK would be the queen.”

​Thanks for clarifying, Martha!
 The sofa bed was heavenly and I slept like a log. 

​Woke up at 6am and got up (see – I CAN do it!) as I needed to clean the bicycle.  I was worried about the effect all that fine clay would have on the chain (let alone the other parts of Rowenna) and also didn’t want to be carrying around half a ton of dry mud on top of the load I normally carry.  I cadged a bucket of water from an elderly lady from across the road (she was a little suspicious, I think!).  I set to rubbing a lot of the, by now, dried mud off spokes and metal with an old toothbrush (which worked a treat).  Took me until 11am to have breakfast, remove the wheels and get rid of most of the mud, re-oil the chain and reload.  (oh, and cut my toenails).   Time to move on.
 
Felt tired all day – after that early start, I guess – but reached Vienna after only one little circuit in the outskirts of the town itself, where a sign pointed the WRONG way.   I had fish and chips in a hotel en route – there was a huge amount, which sort of made up for the larger amount I was paying.  I cycled along most of the Marchfeldkanal and felt befuddled by the sheer size of Vienna.  I had a hearty bean soup and Apricot smoothie at Café/restaurant Theo near Franz-Josefs-Kai (alongside the little Danube Canal) whilst looking for a place to stay on the macbook (what would I do without it?) – and found the wonderful Wombat’s Hostel next door to the Naschmarkt. 
 
Riding to Wombat’s was amazing – I love the graffiti in town – serious graffiti all along the railway arches.  There are some fabulous artists around.  I ride past huge monuments and pedestrianised squares with the surrounding buildings all lit up with a frieze of lights.  Vienna is pomp and majesty – the buildings like rows of decorated cakes – a feast to look at. 
 
Wombat’s Hostel comes highly recommended by me, if you’re ever in town – and they can now be found in London as well as other European cities.  There is a 24hour reception – and the desk was heaving when I got there, even at 11pm.  The staff were young and enthusiastic, helpful, knowledgeable and friendly.  The rooms themselves (and I was in a 6 bed dormitory) were clean and spacious and nicely laid out with a locker included.  There’s the usual hostel stuff of making your own bed, stripping it in the morning – and the hostel makes its money by charging a basic, no frills rate and then adding extra if you want a towel, or breakfast or similar – but I can live with that.  Wifi was free (or WLAN as they call it in Deutsch), as was leaving luggage and the bicycle while I went off to explore.   I like the ambience and the concept: there was a lot of cushioned platforms downstairs with plugs for laptops and phones.  (I laughed when I looked around when I came downstairs in the morning – EVERYONE had their smartphones out and were tapping away).  The ‘Wombar’ next door to this lounging area had a pool table and drinking games – even at midnight, there was a game of giant jenga going on and the place was packed. 
 
I plan to stay in Vienna a couple days to rest and sightsee again. 

Have I mentioned how I don’t do mornings?  Discover – after I haul myself into action, that I’m right on the border!  Country no.4 it is – Welcome (or Willkommen) to Austria!  (and goodbye the cheap prices of ‘Czesky’).  It’s hot again, but breezy, with the occasional blast of something perfumed and sweet on the air.  The rape, in some places, has nearly finished flowering and the ears of the corn growing in some of the strips are beginning to bend over and turn golden.  I recall how, in the Exeter RAMM, there were dresses embroidered with golden straw to mimic the metal, because it would gleam so.  There are so many hares in amongst the crops - I see at least 3, sometimes more, every day – only the tips of their ears in the wheat, but all of them running along the cycle path or in amongst the pumpkin/squash patches.   One of these hares went completely loopy, bouncing high over the wheat, cavorting and running off over the horizon.  “Cuckoo!”  - this is the land of the cuckoo clock, I suppose – and the cuckoos are sounding off every day too.
 
The thunder clouds are gathering – the higher beings are on the warpath.  A few drops splash, so I find shelter in a covered picnic place in a park.  Lots of refugees (I guess, from their Arabic sounding conversations) turn up on bicycles to play football on the pitch next door.  The threatened rain didn’t arrive, so I moved on to Mistelbach and the end of stage three of the Eurovelo route.  I ride off the route and into town in search of wifi and a campsite or hostel.   I pay double what I’d been paying in Czech Republic for coffee and a slice of strudel (which seemed apt for Austria) but didn’t find the wifi.  Did find it in an icecream parlour up the road (which seemed a good reason to indulge again!) – no luck though – not a legitimate campsite for miles around.  I decide to move on and see what transpires. 
 
Not a 100yards up the road the wind picked up and the sky darkened several shades.  I realised the rain that I had been expecting (and trying to avoid) was about to catch up with me big time.  So I dived into the porch of a sports centre just as someone turned the power shower on full blast.  Thunder and lightening were almost continuous overhead and it was nearly as dark as nightime.  The downpipes of the sports hall I was sheltering under couldn’t cope with the flood and were fountaining water up into the air.  The porch roof was an odd design – several panes of glass sloping the wrong way back towards the building walls – so the water ran towards the walls instead of away.  A drip between the panes soon occurred, spattering onto Rowenna, who was leaned against the glass doors.  However, the stone floor was radiating heat from the sun it had absorbed  during the day, which was a little like having my bottom rest on a warm stove top as I sat crossed legged watching the downpour, knitting.
 
The fury must have continued for another half an hour before the rain settled into more normal levels and the downpipes managed to get the water down the drains again.  Gradually the thunder and lightening moved away to the East and the sky startened to lighten again, with shafts of light appearing from the sun already sunk low to the West.  At one point, during the storm, I was joined in my porch by three young lads in t-shirts and shorts, all soaked to the skin.  They didn’t stay long, though, and made a run for home. 
 
When the rain finally stopped, and there was only a dimly heard grumble from the South West, I set off again.  I couldn’t afford another night in a hotel (or didn’t want to) so had a vague hope of finding somewhere to camp.  I set off along the cycle path again but was aghast at what the heavy shower had done to some of the fields.  Where there was a slope, the fine clay soil had been washed down hill – across the path in several places, and uprooted or covered the poor little squash plants.  I walked carefully through some minor puddles (remembering my tumble into the mud, when cycling with Katja).  But then I came to a quagmire:  the cycle path curved around the corner of a field which coincided with the lowest part of the field.   Most of the bottom part of the field appeared to have moved to cover it.  There was no way around it – I’d have to wade through it.  It was at least a foot deep in the centre.  Poor Rowenna got coated – the mud adhered to her wheels, lodged under the mud-guards and the brakepads and then the wheels refused to turn at all.  My shoes were also coated and slithered all over the place trying to gain purchase.  The clay would make fabulous pots I think.  When I emerged, both Rowenna and I looked a sight – and it was getting dark and I still had no place to kip. 
 
I rode on trying to find cleanish puddles to ride through to help remove the mud, but it was sticky stuff.  The surrounding land didn’t look promising for a stealth camp either – being either soaking wet long grass or mud swamped crops.   AT round half past nine, I came upon a tavern called Toni’s Cabana still open in a small village called Eggesford.  I decided to ask within and (at the very least) have a beer.  There were 4 or 5 guys inside, several of who said they could speak English, so I explained my predicament.  They looked doubtful when I asked about a camping place – so I asked if I could camp outside the Cabana itself – it had a mowed, well kept oasis of grass all around.  “Yes”, said Tony – but he was locking up soon and going home.  I didn’t mind this at all, but wanted to be sure no one would query me camping there – and he gave me his card to show any strangers.  He even gave me a couple of bread rolls for breakfast the next morning.  I left mud all over his patio, for which I’m very sorry, but the camp spot was great. 
 

​I camped close to the lake – people are swimming in it this morning. 
 
Last night there was a grey caterpillar inching its way steadfastly towards my tent.  I tried to discourage it, but every time I touched it, it would wriggle around furiously, rolling on its back to expose a line of black furry feet before turning back and continuing on its way.  Sure enough, in the morning I could see where it had tried to cocoon itself in a fold of the ‘footprint’ of my tent – the extra ground sheet I have underneath the tent.  I removed it carefully and placed it at the base of a tree – it was no longer wriggling around – where I’m sure it’s doomed to be food for any passing bird with a sharp eye. 
 
As I packed away the tent, large numbers of small, shiny black beetles went scurrying for shelter from underneath.  I’ve probably even packed some away.  Life is hard for some critters. 
 
I see lots of hares today – three at least.   There are also lots of cyclists out on this path – I pass (or more likely, am passed by) many family groups and large groups of adults of all ages.  I also cycle through the largest wine growing area in the Czech Republic – even stopping at one place to taste the rosé (though I daren’t do that too often or I’ll be a liability on the bicycle!).  It’s a huge alluvial plain – so not just vineyards, but fields of corn, cabbages, peas, lettuce as well as the usual wheat and rape.
 
At one point I see a fairly large group of cyclists with their bicycles strewn on the ground, all gathering something from the trees lining the route.  Then I realise what they’re eating – cherries!  I sail on past, slightly regretfully.  Not a little while later I see an elderly couple, their car parked on the verge of the road and the man up in the tree passing handfuls of ripe cherries down to his partner.   I could resist no longer.  I stopped at the very next tree full of ripe cherries (the trees seemed to be at various stages – some under ripe, others almost past their best) and gorged myself. 
 
Back on Eurovelo route 9 it’s bliss knowing that all I’ve got to do is follow the cycle route signs.  (well- until I miss one, or misinterpret one, that is).  HA!  Follow the signs indeed.  It was fine until I decided to cut out a big loop and just follow the main road out of Valtice to Breclav.  Once again, I couldn’t find the point where the cycle route intersects.  There are signs pointing both ways, so I take a compass bearing and head in what I hope is the right direction.  Not that long after I notice the signs now say ‘Valtice’ which is where I’ve just come from.  I reverse direction again, but dither when I come to a road with a sign for a hotel 3km away.  It’s starting to get late so I decide to go for it.   There haven’t been many stealth camping site opportunities around here – it’s either dense woodland, long grass and nettles,  farm fields full of crops or vineyards.   I also realise I’m close to Austria, so need to get rid of any Czech money I have left. 
 
I splash out the same amount of money I paid in St Malo way back when – and the accommodation is vastly superior.   Not only that, when I look outside the hotel, in the carpark – what do I spy?  Yep – a Eurovelo route 9 cycle path sign – I’ve come the right direction after all.  Wonders will never cease.