Büren, 10th of June 1998
Hi There!
Already a letter? Yes, already a letter. To me it seemed a good idea to send a letter from Büren (just south of Lippstadt - note that the village I come from lies 11 km away from a town named Buren in Holland). But let me start at the beginning.
When I finally had my bags in Nijmegen (they were sent to me by courier - within Holland - and after 3 days I decided to go and pick them up myself in Rotterdam) I could finally leave. For me my real leave of The Netherlands was therefore on Friday; Monday, my leave from home was already special, but on Friday something really clicked.
Already the first day cycling it appeared that I had picked the wrong season to leave: I cycled just under two hours without rain clothing! The first night I spent on a farm, but I wasn't too happy with it. Except for the fact that he allowed me, the farmer was particularly unfriendly. So the following days I find a legal camping.
On my way to Münster nothing much happens. Just rain, clouds and more rain. The first message I send home on postcards says: "Everything wet, still everything good." I have almost forgotten what the sun looks like by now! Even the "Friedenkorso" (celebration in honor of the Peace of Münster in 1648) drowns in rain. Other activities are canceled. And so, at ease cycling on, trying to enjoy every minute without rain, I arrive at a pimple in the landscape. Behind that lies Büren, but getting over that pimple is quite an effort.
Hi There!
I'll admit it straight away, before I get complaints; it has taken me a damn long time to get here. Yesterday I entered a warm and oppressive Prague after a long detour. But let me start where I left the story: Büren.
It is around 16.00 h when I get back on my bicycle, my hand still aching after all the writing I have done. The previous letter was not the only one I wrote. Just in time I remember my farm problem and ask: 'Is there a campsite around?' Villagers say there is one in the neighboring village, just across the hill. It turns out not to be a regular camping: It is a Jugendlager (youth camp). What is the case? A group just arrived to celebrate together a Froh Leuchten weekend. Froh Leuchten is a Catholic holiday when they ask blessing for the village (for the materialistic part of the village that is). At night they invite me to join them for dinner (wurst) and after that I join them drinking, partying and gaming. To shorten a very long story, the initially planned one night ends up being four. In between I experience three fantastic days with sport, games and party (and ofcourse alcohol). I am still surprised about the hospitality of these people. They don't demand a thing from me, but I get the same rights as they leaders. Some examples. First: I am being asked to join the leaders in a separate room ('leaders only') to drink and talk. Second: I receive charter when I end up being fifth at the Camp Olympics. And third but best: as a goodbye gift they hand me four boxes of noodles. This group has become precious to me in those three days.
Parting feels almost as difficult as it was leaving home. But now I finally should cycle a bit. I won't make it around the world in three years doing just over 400 km (250 miles) in fifteen days! This attitude brings me over worse and worse roads, and there for more and more often on the Bundesstraßen (the busiest), without a day break via Kassel and Mühlhausen (Thüringen) to Leipzig. I just want to say two things about this stretch. Between Kassel and Mühlhausen I followed the German Fairytaleroad (Deutsche Märchenstraße) which honors its name; winding through the hills it creates a feeling in the traveller as if he were in the Middle Ages. Nothing important seems to have changed. I wouldn't have been surprised to see Snow-white or one of the seven dwarfs run in front of my wheels! The second thing I want to do is commend the West Germans on their efforts to integrate the Eastern part of their country. Only after 100 kms I find out that I have entered what used to be the DDR. Not so long ago there was a time that it wouldn't be so easy to miss that line!
In Leipzig I spend (partly because of a slight cold - it still rains daily) three days. In Dresden I stay only two. In between is a day cycling with, by surprise, real good weather. Although the British have put some extra effort on Dresden with their thud-irons it is easy to take it together: People who are looking for the 'former' Socialism are too late, for the ones looking for the even older culture it's too early; literally everything is scaffolded.
After dragging my bike across a path only suitable for walkers - stairs etc, it was the only alternative to a 40 km stretch of Bundesstraße - I arrive in the Czech Republic.
