Germany's industrial heartland

July 24, 2018

Day 10: Speyer - Mainz. Rivers followed: Rhine

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I slept incredibly deeply. Another day like the last - I had covered 125km generally completely exposed to the 39 degree heat - and I wouldn't last much longer. I had regained a little perspective: that this stretch of the tour was completely loose, that I had at least four days of riding left, and that I intended to cut some of the distance off by taking a train anyway. The intention had been that these days by the Rhine would be flat, easily navigable and straightforward. My damaged front wheel hadn't caused me any trouble the previous day - it was about the only thing that didn't - and there wasn't any evidence of serious failure, but I was still cautious on riding it hard.

So it was in philosophical mood that I prepared breakfast. I would head towards Mannheim and see how I felt. I could certainly get a train from there if I felt the need, or I could continue to the vicinity of Mainz. As I ate, the guy from the touring family came over, and we compared maps. They were Swiss, and he and his family had cycled up from Switzerland up the Rhine, the children pedalling all the way. Today he wanted to get into the vicinity of Mannheim and was looking to see if there were any campsites around that area: there were none on my map either, as that area is densely industrial. I asked how the children were doing in the heat: "yes, it is difficult, but much better than rain, which we had a lot of in Switzerland" he told me.

I returned my keys and collected my deposit, and rolled out of camping Thomashof. As I left the girl who had showed me around saw me off with enthusiastic waves. After the pummelling I'd had yesterday I suddenly felt pretty old.

In contrast to the trouble finding the place and my way around forsaken North Speyer, I was out the town in a jiffy. A road around the back of the campsite took me to an underpass under the autobahn and I was soon crossing the fields to Otterstadt. There I picked up cycle signs immediately to Ludwigshafen and Mannheim, marked clearly with the VeloRoute Rhine symbol.

Otterstadt also has a series of lakes that seem to have been formed by gravel extraction near the Rhine. They are now surrounded by small holiday camps - a strange place to take a holiday, but then who am I to judge. The day was cooler and the holiday atmosphere started to rub off on me - it was an enjoyable, if uneventful ride on the well-marked off-road gravel cycle route North. I barely saw the Rhine, but this did not bother me. The route was quiet, and I was passed by only one other cyclist, an older gent easily passing me on an E-bike.

Evidence of heavy industry soon started to make itself apparent: huge chimneys towered ahead, and I knew I was approaching the complexes of Ludwigshafen and Mannheim, a giant hub for the chemical industry in Germany. I had a choice here: the official Veloroute Rhine now crossed over into Mannheim. I was feeling good, though, and thought I would press on to Mainz as a goal for the day. The older route circumnavigated the chemical works on the left bank of the Rhine - I thought this might be more interesting, so stuck to that.

Typical well-maintained and empty cycle route heading towards Altrip. Normally I'd consider this very dull cycling, but after the trials of the previous day I was in the mood for something straightforward

Big chimneys mark the beginning of the heavy industry

I covered the 25km into Ludwigshafen in a fraction of the time it would have taken me the previous day. It was still before 10am when I entered the built-up area. I was concerned that my decision to follow the older route would lead me astray as I got into the city: I was still reeling from my navigational woes of the previous day - but to my relief the route continued to be well-signed and to closely follow the Rhine.

The route enters Ludwigshafen through the huge city park, which sits on a sort of headland into the Rhine. As I entered the park, I rounded a huge industrial canal and and fantastic Victorian tower. The park was leafy, shady and a very pleasant way to get into town. I was about the only cyclist riding through and felt a little sheepish - but it soon became apparent this was indeed the cycle route.

Clock tower standing guard outside the industrial docks in Ludwigshafen. A nice steampunk element.

The entrance to the industrial canal in Ludwigshafen

After the park I found myself on a long embankment heading along the river. Again, I was tremendously thankful for easy navigation and pleasant cycling along the river through the city. The city seemed spacious and there were big, unoccupied building basements all along the waterfront - as I passed one, some local kids were listening to German hip-hop in the sunshine. A strangely harmonious sight.

I came alongside a huge shopping centre, and rather self-consciously popped in to see if I could acquire some lunch. I wasn't hungry yet, but figured I would be before I got the Worms, which was the next destination. Sandwich and cold drink in hand, I was soon off again.

North of the city centre, the route became less obvious. There was a huge factory complex entrance, and to avoid this I cleaved closer to the Rhine - but it soon became clear that I was far off-piste (the piles of sand and broken glass weren't encouraging) so I returned to the road. There I realised that what I had seen was (one of) the entrances to the gigantic BASF chemical complex. Since this lay next to the river - indeed, they have their own docks - I obviously needed to get around this.

By this tactic I regained the VeloRoute, and continued around the huge and frankly impressive site. The chemical works cover acres between Ludwigshafen and Mannheim, and - most surprising to me - include every aspect of the manufacturing process. In the UK, and in the places I work, the pilot plant and R&D might be on-site, but all the heavy manufacturing would have gone long ago. As I cycled around the site, I saw hordes of white collar workers and tech types, but also groups of guys in boiler suits, half open against the heat, lounging in the sun outside of the gates. Everything seemed to be working so smoothly, to be so organised - to my outsider's eye at least - and even the chemical works gleamed in the sun.

The site was so enormous it took the best part of an our to circumnavigate it. There were so impressive sites along the way, associated with so big a complex. There is clearly an employee bike scheme, and there were expansive parking lots full of the red BASF bikes. I couldn't see any locks on any of them, but I guess when they're all the same there's some safety in numbers. I passed an oxygen depot, and it was bigger than the department in which I did my post-graduate work. As I rounded the complex and the Rhine came into view, some huge cranes over the docks were crowned with the initials BASF.

Enormous parking lot for employee cycles. They weren't locked, but I frankly wasn't too tempted to pinch one...

A small part of the periphery of the chemical works

The oxygen depot. It's about the size of football pitch.

Crossing back towards the Rhine and looking at BASF's private docks

It might seem funny, but such an uncompromising industrial landscape actually invigorated me. After all, I'd seen plenty of picturesque cosy villages in the Black Forest - and it really is impressive. I could identify now the factory complex on the map as a grey area about the same size as Ludwigshafen proper.

The next natural destination down river was again something completely different: the pocket-sized medieval centre of Worms. After the harrowing I'd had after Karlsruhe, and missing most of the historic appeal of Speyer, I was looking forward to seeing some - and apologies to Ben here - old stuff.

Once beyond the orbit of the chemical works, I picked up the old VeloRoute again with no problems, and despite the rising temperature had a leisurley ride for the next 12km or so into Worms. I was amazed at how relaxed I felt after the previous day: it's reassuring to me that I can still recover reasonably quickly.

As I approached Worm down a lovely leafy lane, I passed a mysterious and tempting wooden structure. It was rather dark, but seemed such a perfect place to stop that I elected to have lunch there. It was very dim, warm in the heat, and smelt only of pine resin.

Inside the elaborate and strange shelter where I had lunch outside Worms. It being Germany, it was of course pristine.

Clearly the local kids get together here on summer evening to ... record the temperature (?)

As I finished my lunch and took a few photographs, a guy wheeled his moped up to the shelter, presumably for the same purposes as me. I made tracks and pedalled the last couple of kilometres into Worms.

Despite filling up in Ludwigshafen, I was running fairly low on water now, and when I saw a sign for a sports complex I thought I'd try my luck. Unfortunately my luck wasn't cooperating, as the place was overrun with school children having some kind of sports day. Feeling rather sheepish but really wanting the water, I strode through them and filled up my bottles. Must've looked a bit of an odd sight.

I was much more taken with Worms than Speyer: the sandy red cathedral is visible for miles over the city, and it didn't have the anything like Speyer's sprawl (even though they're roughly the same size). I headed straight to the cathedral, was suitably impressed, and took stock.

You can see the Wormser Dom for miles over the town

Worms cathedral. The Diet of Worms took place in a garden just behind.

As the clock tower records, it was still before 2pm - the day wasn't nearly as intensely hot as the previous, I had 50km on the clock, and felt I could do the same again before stopping. While I had one eye on the hilly country to the West on my map, realistically I knew Mainz was my destination for the day. It was a good step according to the map: further, as the crow flew, than I had covered in the whole of yesterday. I set my aim on a campsite that was a good 10km South of Mainz itself.

Moreover, the Rhine North of Worms flows East in a long meander. I knew from experience that following the Rhine wouldn't guarantee flat, easily-navigable and well-shaded routes. Intriguingly, the land cutting off the Meander seemed almost dead flat - and a cycle route, the Rhineterassenroute passed through it. Rather than add on the extra kilometers, and remembering how coming off the canal in France had given me a lease of life, I decided to make the cut through.

Getting out of Worms was a little fiddly, and I ended up at one point on a very busy and narrow road. As always, the traffic was very courteous, even when I made a frankly stupid manoeuvre by stopping and doubling back unexpectedly. Eventually I picked up signs to Osthofen on an off-road cycleway, and gladly took it.

The flatness promised by the map was delivered, and the change of scenery was refreshing. The inside of the Rhine's meander is indeed very low lying, and is hedged on the West by a steep shelf rising a hundred meters or so above the marshy land. The steep slopes are considered prime wine-growing land, and so nearly the whole escarpment is converted into steep, narrow terraces for cultivating vines. The contrast from the slightly fetid marshland of the day before and the industrial complexes of the morning was pretty striking. It was also surprising to by back in wine country, after last seeing it all the way back in Burgundy.

Entering German wine country on the Rhineterrassenroute: the steep slope of the escarpment to the West is devoted to terraces cultivating vines.

They certainly looked tempting. I wasn't quite desperate enough to try them, though.

Whether it was simply a matter of a change being as good as a rest, the route turned out to be really easy going and enjoyable. The road was pretty quiet, but most of the route was off-road anyway, either on a separate cycleway or cutting through the vines. While the slopes to the West were pretty steep, the villages strung along the bottom were firmly on the flat plain, and I made good progress.

From Osthofen I continued through Mettenheim, Alsheim, Guntersbaum and Ludwigshohe without much to report. In Guntersbaum there was a church symbol, and sure enough I found my way into the graveyard (and, oddly, adjacent play area) and refilled my water. The route was somewhat exposed, but fluffy clouds were doing a good job of periodically obscuring the sun and reducing the risk of being burnt-out like yesterday.

Oppenheim, where the route re-joins the Rhine, looks quite impressive from a distance. Its huge spire was visible for some kilometers, and I welcomed it as the herald of the last stage of the day.

Looking over the vineyards to the distant spire of Oppenheim

Oddly, it's not as impressive when you get up close, but it made a good landmark

From Oppenheim I could rejoin the VeloRoute Rhine and continue North up the West bank of the Rhine towards Mainz. My goal, since I'd already made good progress, was a campsite some 10km South of the city: according to my ADFC map, there should actually be two campsites, one on each side of the river. After my adventures in Pforzheim, I was taking it's advice with something of a pinch of salt: but there were fully four sites on the other side of the river further on. I wasn't certain where I could cross, but figured there would be something.

First I had to cycle the last stretch of the Rhine to the city. Beyond Oppenheim, the VeloRoute cuts a little into the hills and follows the river above the main road, on little country lanes that are very clearly designated car-free. It seems that the main road is also the only direct road into the city, and it was choked with rush-hour traffic heading out of the city. As a consequence, I (and the now many other cyclists who were using this route) kept being surprised by cars trying to take a short-cut by squeezing down the cycle lanes. At least they were mostly cautious and careful, but there were quite a few who went bombing down the lanes. I'm not ashamed that when I saw them coming towards me, I cycled bang in the middle of the lane and gave them the evil eye to force them to slow right down. Most of them did look quite sheepish...

Further down the cycleway crossed the main road and cleaved closely to the bank of the Rhine. At last, I had some of the riverside cycling I had been imagining for this stretch: it was shady, the river was picturesque, and the going easy.

Attractive Rhine scene and industrial barge

Unfortunately this didn't last forever, and as I neared the spot I expected the campsite to be the dominating feature was traffic-heavy junctions serving the city. I stuck to the river even though there was some sort of official closure on the trail - it looked perfectly passable to me, but I think they sometimes had problems with flooding - not so in this recordly hot summer. It soon became very clear that there was nothing even resembling a campsite, and indeed I couldn't see where one had ever been. Squinting at the opposite bank, there was little evidence of one there either.

I hadn't quite hit 100km, and there were lots of options further on: including a youth hostel if I fancied it, so I plugged on, actually rather glad to be leaving the vicinity of the autobahn junction connecting Mainz with Frankfurt. I did wonder how I was going to cross the Rhine - there were lots of road crossings, including the autobahn mentioned, but the cycle routes on the map didn't follow them.

But very soon I saw a sign indicating a cycle route to Gustavsberg, on the other side of the river. It also indicated the Jugendherberge was nearby, so I logged that information in case I needed to come back. A nice safe separate cycle lane took me over the Rhine next to the highway, and deposited me in some rather untamed parkland South of Gustavsberg. I turned to the North, idling wondering about wild camping in this parkland - it seemed pretty out the way, but also fairly popular with hard-drinking vagrants - though I can't really exclude myself from that description.

I soon popped out into a grassy area near canals leading to the Rhine, and immediately saw signs for two campingplatzes. That was easy! Insel Blue sounded nicer, so I followed the signs to a bridge over the canal, only to be met my an epic security gate topped with barbed wire. I hung about the gate for the about a minute wondering what to do, only to find it open and a car going the other way. I crossed over, giving a cheery wave to the driver as if I knew exactly what I was doing.

The campsite was very extensive, was indeed on an island, and was charmingly ramshackle. I tootled about a bit before I found the reception, a small portakabin box which was evidently closed. I rang an electric bell, waited, and still nothing. At this point, some more cycle tourists wheeled up, two immediately friendly Dutchmen wearing a bare minimum of clothes. After some common puzzlement, we found a number we could ring to summon the guardian. "Ah, it's typical Germans!" they said, which amused me - I was finding the disorganisation quite refreshing.

Sure enough the guardian appeared, and seemed to be very relaxed when it came to tents. 10 euros for the night, pitch anywhere we like. The Dutchman had an intense conversation with a lot of concerned commiseration, which I soon gathered was all about whether there was anywhere nearby to drink beer. It seemed there wasn't - but then, to my astonishment, to make it up to us he re-emerged with a free beer for us all. I passed around my broken bottle opener - "Did you file off the end to save weight?" - and we sat around in the sun and took it easy.

They were heading up the Rhine back to Holland, and feeling the heat. I liked their approach: they covered serious distance in the day, and then treated the evenings like a holiday, hence their concern on finding a watering-hole.

The imposing gate over the the Insel Bleiau campground. It was much more relaxed on the inside!

I put my tent up, had a shower, and (now armed with a fob to open the imposing gate) headed out to see if I could find something to eat. First I wondered onto the other campsite, where there was loud music playing. But it was just some oddball and his car: indeed, there didn't seem to be anyone at all running things - I was glad I hadn't chosen to stay there.

Wondering the other way towards Gustavsburg, I had to pass through a huge industrial estate, where lorries were queuing up with the cargo. From there I could cross the tracks and get to the town. There weren't a huge number of options - I decided against a steakhouse - but the kebab-type places had outside seating and were actually remarkably decent. They could do me a pizza and beer, and (astonishing to my UK eyes) had waiter service and payment at the end. The pizza was pretty good, and I helped myself to another beer from the fridge, signalling to the guy to add it to the bill.

I spent some time just studying my maps. I had done well today, another 110km and nearly all of it in the right direction, but I had a big problem remaining in how to get the vicinity of Trier or Bitburg if I wanted to finish up in Luxemburg or Belgium. The Eifel hills were in the way; a cut over them would likely be gruelingly close to my Black Forest experience. Bu the natural route, following the Rhine up to Koblenz and then the Mosel down to Trier, was a long way, even as the crow flew - and the Mosel in particular was so serpentine, I knew I should be doubling the distance. It was now Tuesday night, so it was possible I could do it in three days and arrive in Belgium on the Saturday - but I thought it might be a push.

During the map studying, the soreness of my eyes: the only real health problem I'd had during the trip - became severe. I think squinting at maps in the low light didn't help, but it must have been brought on by the intense sunshine. It got pretty bad, with me having to keep one eye closed all the time: so I thought it high time to get back to camp.

I paid up, and wondered back down the somewhat dark and lonely street back into the industrial estate beyond which lay the Insel Bleiau. As I passed an alley, a guy studying his phone emerged and walked right behind me. Convinced that I was about to be mugged, I took some evasive action that may not have been entirely wise but certainly had the element of surprise. I ducked into the porch of a disused theatre, and then as he was about to pass me I spun on my heel and walked straight towards him with confidence. "Guten Abend" he murmured as he proceeded to head to the theatre himself, and flicked a switch that lit the whole thing up. It wasn't disused after all, and I probably looked more like the mugger to him.

Today's ride: 108 km (67 miles)
Total: 932 km (579 miles)

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