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Thursday, July 11th - Lichenfels to Saalfeld, 6987 km
There is no shower available here, so I begin the day with a sponge bath. It is my last day in West Germany too, as I will cross into East Germany this afternoon. Hopefully they will have showers there, but it doesn't sound promising. If not, Denmark won't be the only place where something is rotten, Mr. Hamlet.
I am heading east, then north-east of Rte 173, on my way to Kronach. It's a busy truck route so at the earliest opportunity, about 5 km along, I move onto a smaller route that ambles through local villages. It is slightly longer but quieter. After 10 km I am forced back onto Rte 173 but the traffic is lighter, farther from Lichenfels.
Kronach is a small, picturesque town with rough cobble- stone. I had planned just to stop for a refreshment but the cobblestone jarred loose the glue on my front fender again. I stop to clean the fender, re-glue it and while it is drying I shop for groceries. A group of teens chuckle over my appearance, perhaps pink helmet, now beached to a pale rose colour by the sun. I smile back. Leadership, I suppose, has something to do with showing others what is possible.
From Kronach, the road leads directly into a parkland region named Franken- wald, and towards the former East German border. At the town of Wilhemsthal, it climbs steeply above the forest to open ridge top meadows and farms. The terrain is a rolling, undulating landscape until I reach the last town before the former border, Tschirn. One of my maps shows there is a road from here over a ridge into the East German town of Lehesten. My other map says the road does not continue. I assume that new
roads have recently being built between the two reunited halves of the country and the map showing the road is correct. As it turns out, both maps are half correct as the road isn't finished yet on the West German side. The road is raised, falling off three metres on each side. Trucks are laying sand and gravel on parts of the road and steam rollers are pressing down steaming hot asphalt as I arrive. Shades of the Cabo de Gata in Spain (see Day 46) - I can't believe I am in this situation again, though not quite as dangerous as before. I am not sure the German construction workers will be as casual about me traversing the work site as they were in Spain, but as Mike would have said, 'I'm not turning back after coming this far.' I walk my bicycle between the various trucks, cursing at the tar sticking to my feet. Some workers nod at me but for the most part I might as well be invisible. When I get beyond the construction I grind the soles on my cycling shoes in the sand and dust. For the next couple kilometres the tar on my tires makes a ripping sound on the pavement.
There are fence posts that mark the former border barricades. From here, at the crest of the ridge, the road is downhill, forested and much cooler, but it's narrow and covered with fine gravel so I cannot go too quickly. I stop at Lehesten to buy fruit and yogurt. People seem friendly and somewhat surprised to see someone traveling on bicycle. The road continues to drop to Saalfeld, the first major town. Saalfeld is an ugly town, except for the decorative Rathaus (town hall). The town is
given a 1-star attraction rating but the Feengrotten, a long- abandoned mine, is given top ratings. That seems a bit strange since it is not a natural cave, but I want to check it out. Across from it, I find a 500 year old hotel and a room for 24 DM. The manager speaks little English and room has no drinking water or shower, but that’s OK for the price. I assume that will be much cheaper here. I have two beers in the restaurant/bar. Service is painfully slow. I flag down a waiter to order a meal, but he indicates I have the wrong menu, He gives me the right one to look over but I wait another 20 minutes for an opportunity to order. Perhaps I can always expect such poor service in the former East Block where people were paid the same whether or not they worked hard. I see a chicken dinner pass by so I order the only chicken on the menu, a schinkenplatte. It comes at a reasonable price.
After another considerable wait the waiter, a stout, middle-aged man with an attitude, brings a small plate with three slices of bread and a couple shavings of ham. It is way too small to be a meal, and it isn’t chicken, so I assume it is a
starter plate. I wasn’t aware that my meal came with a starter for such a good price, but then I couldn’t read the German text on the menu. I am feeling a mixture of happy and sad, happy to be in a new place and having the opportunity to do such a wonderful trip but sad to be alone. A tape of nostalgic 60s music plays in the background, enhancing my mood. I drift off into thought. After another 45 minutes I notice that others have been served but I am still waiting for my chicken dinner. I remind my waiter I am still waiting for my schinkenplatte but he just turns his nose up at me and walks on. I don’t give up, so he demands that I pay for the two beer and the meal first. I pay for the beer and refuse to pay for the dinner that never came. He is upset too, but I tear up the bill and go to my room thoroughly pissed off. I can’t believe he would try to make me pay for something I had not received. I stay there for the rest of the evening, not willing to pass by the restaurant to look for another place to eat, if there is one in town. Gawd nose what I’d do if the next place tried to rip me off too. I read a book and scrounge for stale snacks in my bags instead.
PHOTO 1: Kronach
PHOTO 2: climbing from Kronach into the Frankenwald
PHOTO 3: Have a good trip! (or whatever)
PHOTO 4: Lehesten
PHOTO 5: Saalfeld
PHOTO 6: Saalfeld Rathaus (Town Hall)
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