Don’t let the photo fool you. I had the hard job.

If this piece becomes incoherent, I’ll blame it on fatigue. Today will likely be a 24-hour endurance trek. Up before 6 a.m. in Vienna, we fly to Frankfurt. After a two-and-a-half hour layover, we head for Denver. A two-hour train ride from the airport, another 20-minute drive home and our bodies will think it’s 2 a.m.

Fatigue is the recurring theme of this two-week vacation. Neither Karla, Paul or I slept well on the flight over. I hesitated to take Ambien and regretted it. But we muddled through the day and then slept 10 hours that night. Three days walking about Prague and a six-plus hour car trip to my ancestral home, six days biking in Czechia, Germany and Austria and another two days exploring Vienna has left us exhausted but wiser.

It seems that we yearn to “sleep in our own bed” not because we tire of the new experiences and exotic sites but that we cram them into every day. Next time, we’ve vowed to build in a few down days. We’ll sleep late, linger at cafes, take naps and eat light.

And no standing. That is most exhausting to me. My back and legs ache. After the walking tour of the Schünbrunn Palace, I knelt in front of a bench, lay my torso on the seat, and had Karla apply pressure to the back of my shoulder. I was a spectacle to passing tourists. A couple even offered help or inquired if I was OK.  I can bike all day, am OK walking, but can’t stand to stand.

Prague could never live up to my expectations but it’s beautiful with friendly people and most important, cheap beer. A full liter stein is less than $4. The Vltava River runs through the town crossed by many bridges. Fortunately, we were a mile or so south of the famous Charles Bridge. On one side is the tourist center of the town and the nearby old Jewish Center. Crowded and noisy, I’d never stay there.

The trip to Wiehe, Germany, where we suspected our great great grandfather John was born was the highlight of this first portion of the trip. I’ve written more about it here: http://bit.ly/Wiehe.

The German highways are not unregulated race courses. But the drivers do not suffer fools, which are those who linger in the left lane. The max speed limit I saw was 130 kph, though many drivers exceeded that by 20-30 kph when passing. If you are in the left lane they will tailgate at a distance of a few feet until you move over, which happened to me when I was passing someone but at a much slower speed than the car that suddenly appeared from behind. Everyone does pull over. No one stays in the left lane. If only American drivers were so considerate.

Throughout our trip, drivers seemed far better than Americans. They drove fast, even in the city. But if you so much as approached a designated crosswalk, they will stop on a dime. Fines for not doing so can reach hundreds of Euros or Czech crowns. Motorists, walkers and the many cyclists seem to co-exist well. Pedestrians and bike riders alike patiently wait for the crossing signals

Prague’s buildings, spared bombing during World War II, are beautiful though many are defaced with graffiti. I heard no complaints about that, though it’s prevalent. We couldn’t tell if it was gang-related, though everyone assured us that the city is safe. Many of the streets are cobblestones with unusually wide seams between them that seemed to be regularly cleaned out. No dirt or debris built up between the stones. The seams were a half-inch wide and at least that deep. Almost all the sidewalks were mosaics of smaller stones about 2-inch square, sometimes aligned in intricate patterns and almost always with a clear delineation by stone pattern of street from sidewalk.

The tourist highlights were the palace and the Jewish quarters tour. The former is now a blur. I can’t seem to remember the particulars of opulence and its occupants. The Jewish quarters was another matter. The Jews suffered the usual oppression in Czechia for centuries. Walled in, the could not live elsewhere and had to wear yellow hats when they ventured outside the ghetto. In the early part of the 20th century (I believe), the entire neighborhood was razed, but not before one guy built a complete model of it. We visited four synagogues, one of which I think is the oldest operating one in the world.

The bike trip itself was not ideal, but we had a great time. We had one day of a steady rain that cut short the ride considerably. The day before was also a bit wet. And it was not a week of hard riding. I rode ahead a couple of times to get in 5-10 kilometers at a decent pace, but the rest of the time I smelled the daisies with the rest of the group. And that was OK. Virtually all the rides were on bike paths and the scenery was gorgeous. We covered no more than 35 miles in a day with two rest stops and a lunch. But it could have gone south. See: http://bit.ly/Kebike.

More important, it was a great group of people. All were Americans, all in their 60’s, save one older couple and a daughter traveling with her mother. Vermont Bike Tours seems to be a class act. The 4-star hotels and places where we ate as a group were well appointed and good food. The tour guides were very professional and shepherded us without hovering. We spent two nights each in Czeny Krumlov in Czechia, Passau in Germany and the Wachau Valley in Austria. Each town was picturesque and easy to navigate. We met at least one couple, from Houston, who I think we’ll see again as his father lives in Bradenton.

Two days in Vienna was plenty. Nice town with a rich history but lacks charm. Unlike Prague, it suffered heavy bombing in WWII.

Key to this trip was learning we could vacation for two weeks comfortably. We’ll probably try a longer trip in the future. Maybe cycling will be part of it. I think Karla’s experience with an e-bike may mean we can do something a little more challenging next time. But I’m OK with what we had.

I still think a month in Tuscany or Provence or somewhere in Bavaria with day trips, perhaps again to Wiehe and certainly to central Italy where my mother’s family is from, is a definite goal. But with plenty of down time.

 

 

This bike trip from Prague to Vienna was not without risk, especially to my marriage.

Karla agreed to give it a try and even became enthusiastic as the departure approached. We picked one that was supposed to be easy. In St. Pete, we ride to restaurants, theatres and museums on our bikes, where it is pancake flat. And she had ridden a 20-mile ride with my bike club. She wasn’t worried.

Unfortunately, we went to Colorado in early July, and Karla was not about to ride in the mountains. So she did not, as the Vermont Bicycle Tour folks recommended, “train.” But that 20-mile ride convinced her she could handle this. Karla never lacks confidence, no matter how misplaced it occasionally may seem.

When we signed up for the trip, Karla declined the offer of an electric bike. My brother Paul, however, grabbed one as he had suffered a knee injury after we registered for the trip. They told him it would be much easier to switch to a regular bike from the e-bike rather than vice versa, as there was a limited supply.

The first day we rode just 8 miles to test the bikes and determine any needed fit adjustments. The route had one hill. Karla had to walk it. Paul motored up fine. But she didn’t panic; this was an “easy” biking vacation.

That night we were talking about the trip with some of our fellow travelers, and one of them mentioned that the trip was actually rated “easy to moderate.” Karla looked at me with a sightrly piqued expression. “You didn’t say anything about ‘moderate.’”

Yesterday, Karla walked up a couple of hills. The fine line between a challenge and a disaster might be breached. I tried pushing her up the hills, and I always stayed with her. Misrepresenting the ride was one thing. “Abandonment” would have found its way into the divorce papers.

One of guides, Peter, had mentioned earlier in the trip that there was an extra e-bike on the trailer. At lunch he suggested to Karla she might want to try it for the afternoon ride. Paul was loving his. After a couple of hills, Karla did not hesitate to accept the offer.

It took less than 60 seconds for her to realize this was a game changer. She had a big smile on her face. Early in the afternoon ride, I rode ahead to shoot a quick video of her and Paul coming down a hill. There they came. The two smiling e-bikers. After shooting the video clip, I mounted my bike to catch them.

I pedal. I pedaled harder. I hammered as best I could. They were nowhere in sight, I’m sure they were still smiling.

Finally, after a mile or two, I caught them. How quickly they forget. The thought of easing up for me never occurred to Karla.

Today, the e-bike proved invaluable but not just because of hills. It was 20 degrees cooler with a steady drizzle. We took a train to what proved to be, despite the weather, a beautiful national forest near the border of the Czech Republic – or as it is more recently known, Czechia, and Germany. We put on our layers and rain jackets. Fortunately, the guides had installed fenders on the road bikes, which meant that our backs didn’t get any wetter, if that was possible.

Karla and I were the last to leave the parking lot. Almost immediately, it started to rain harder. Karla became the mare who knew that she was headed back to the barn. We were on a bike path with only the occasional train track crossing to slow us down. I soon realized I was getting a workout. At the first hill, my heart rate was elevated. I stood on the pedals or downshifted to spin a high cadence—anything to stay close.

We caught a few riders, announced “on the left,” waved them goodbye. A little while later, the next group was in sight. Again, we paid our respects in passing and motored on. Another hill and I was at risk of getting dropped. Karla was sitting upright, pedaling an even cadence and pulling away, but she was not smiling. I dug deep. Fortunately, she had trouble with the map bag and had to stop. I caught her and then began to try to hold her wheel. It rained harder.

We made it to the mid-ride lunch stop. We settled in to what was described as a typical Bavarian beer garden, though obviously we huddled inside. Everyone grabbed a bowl of soup.

After lunch, Philip, the other guide, gave us our options. We could go on the rest of the ride, though he allowed that it was still raining and likely to get harder. And we would be on main roads with lots of traffic. Or we could shuttle to our hotel in Passau, which he described as a picturesque little town with lots of beer gardens. We could take warm showers and maybe a nap. Clearly, he was selling that option hard. We all opted for door number two.

And I avoided the ignominy of getting “chicked” by the broad on the e-bike.

She now wants to buy an e-bike for Colorado and ride with me on the hills. I think she’s getting this “chicked” thing. It’s her revenge for this “moderate” trip.