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Link to the diary: TRANS-OST-EXPEDITION - Stage 1

Relief for the muscles

N 48°24'219'' E 015°35'535''
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    Day: 52

    Sunrise:
    06:31 am

    Sunset:
    7:16 pm

    As the crow flies:
    27.61 Km

    Daily kilometers:
    45,75 Km

    Total kilometers:
    1209.51 Km

    Soil condition:
    Asphalt

    Temperature – Day (maximum):
    23 °C

    Temperature – day (minimum):
    20 °C

    Temperature – Night:
    14,6 °C

    Latitude:
    48°24’219”

    Longitude:
    015°35’535”

    Maximum height:
    270 m above sea level

    Time of departure:
    2.22 pm

    Arrival time:
    6.30 p.m.

    Average speed:
    17.14 Km/h

Although we want to leave today, I can’t finish my work. It takes me hours to finally sort out the sudden chaos in my laptop. Hundreds of pictures have gotten mixed up for reasons I don’t understand, and what’s even worse, many of the captions have disappeared without a trace. I’m on the verge of despair. At 13:00, order is restored to my Itronix, the good soul of the expedition, and the update is sent. Looking forward to being able to move my body again, I get our bikes out of the shed and give them a quick inspection. Satisfied that she is in good health, we load her up and finally set off again. We say goodbye to Gerda, thank her for her generous hospitality and let the bikes roll down the hill we cycled up a week ago.

Although the weather forecast predicted rain, it clears up in the afternoon. The pleasantly warming rays of sunshine seem to enchant the increasingly beautiful landscape. It is downright liberating to let your legs circle again and to feel the pulsation of the blood in your veins. What a change, I think back to the beginning of our journey. What was often nothing but pain in the beginning is now a source of joy. We have the feeling that our pores are literally breathing a sigh of relief. In high spirits, we glide past one of the scenic highlights of the Danube. The Wachau with its mildness and cheerfulness, with its wine taverns, snack stations, the many lovely gardens, vineyards towering into the sky, the magnificent palaces, castles and picture-book beautiful villages casts its enchanting spell over us. You pass the site where the famous Venus of Willendorf was found. The discovery of the 11 centimeter small obese female figure from the Paleolithic Age was a scientific sensation. It is considered an expression of a fertility cult and is said to be the most beautiful in form compared to 130 objects found from southwest France to Siberia.

Cycling through terraced vineyards, we leave the Thousand Bucket Hill behind us, so named because in good years its vines are said to produce 1,000 buckets of wine, or 56,000 liters. Wine has been grown here since Charlemagne. A worsening climate in the Middle Ages and the chaotic conditions of the Thirty Years’ War led to the decline of many vineyards. Today, however, cultivation has fully recovered and the grapes that grow here ripen into wines that are highly prized all over the world. We discover something new around every bend this afternoon. On the hills and slopes, ruins sit enthroned on sometimes rugged rocks, their walls and round towers seeming to call out their rich and sad stories into the Danube valley. For example, the romantic ruins of Dürnstein, where King Richard the Lionheart was held prisoner within its walls, abandoned since the Thirty Years’ War. There are around 3000 castles, palaces and ruins on Austrian soil. 2100 are still inhabited or have been reoccupied. Most of the magnificent building complexes are still in family ownership. “Denis! Why don’t you pull over? You really have to take a picture!” Tanja calls behind me. Because of all the archiving work I’ve been doing this morning, I’ve decided to take fewer photos. I have been cycling defiantly past the unique scenery for some time now and think to myself that tomorrow is also a day to get the camera out. Tanja’s call awakens my guilty conscience. “Do you really think so?” I ask. “Sure, look how nice it is here. I can understand that you’re fed up with your work today, but you have to hold on to the splendor here,” she urges me with a smile in her voice. Unfortunately, I don’t have much more opportunity to capture anything with my camera, because we reach the campsite near Krems, the oldest town in Lower Austria.

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