Wild camping has certain advantages over being in a camping place. Not only did the neighbours not smoke, but there are no neighbours! By the same token, we can watch “television” on the smartphone without fear of disturbing anyone.
Last night, we were aware of a fair amount of barking from the Rottweiler dogs lodged around the arena and the festplatz, However, they were no problem and did not disturb us. In the early morning, our wild camp became a hub for dogs being walked. That made it easy to flag down an owner and ask for details of what was going on. What was going on was the world Rottweiler championships and show! The man said there were 500 dogs in attendance. Most of them walked by our tent, and we saw they were glad when we packed up, because it gave them an extra place to pee.
We cruised over to the old town, about 1 km away, and had the nicest surprise. The old town, first of all, seems much more extensive than what we have seen in other cities. So instead of just a really cute markt platz, there were lots of interesting streets. However the street by the rathaus was a stunner. The buildings were decorated with painting and with crests, in a way we have not seen before. Plus they were crowded and huddled in a way that Walt Disney could never improve on, for a fairy tale movie of any budget. Finally, being Saturday, there was a market underway in the street!
So that is a formula for “costing us” hours and hours, and we gladly spent them, walking up and down, marvelling at the buildings, the produce, and the people. This (aside from riverside cycle paths and pastries) is what we came here for!
When we finally left Rottweil we were also starting our run down the Neckar. By taking a bit of a shortcut, we had jumped in at Rottweil, rather than at Schwenningen. Still, this is pretty much the start of the river. We were eager to see the darn river, but the marked path did not take us to it for a while. As with the Donau (or any river) the early stages are not so impressive. The great river will be a ditch or a stream at first. We caught the Neckar at the “stream” stage, but still it was picturesque. I especially like the shot through a hole in one of the covered wooden bridges that span the stream in the early stages.
We proceeded from page to page in our Neckar radweg map, following a path that normally was either in forest or crossing small clearings or fields. Interesting villages are strewn along the way, but we did not make any special detours to check them out. The path, however, did go straight through Rottenberg, a place with many interesting buildings and scenes.
We were pushing a bit, because we wanted to reach Tublingen. We had met a fellow who was cycling in England, and who is from this area. We wanted to be in a good position to meet up with him. Because of out internet problems, we had neither made good contact with him, nor come to understand well where he lives. Still, Tublingen seemed like the place to be.
The day was hot, though the forest often provided shade. After 94 km we made it to the camping in Tubligen. Dodie lasted until we selected our tent site, then began to tremble. She pulled out a foam mat, and collapsed.
As usually happens, even with a total bonk like that, Dodie revived after 30 minutes. There is a restaurant on site at the camping, and I went over to see what was cooking, since revived or not, we were not about to fire up our own “kitchen”. The restaurant was closing, but the man took pity on me and offered the possibility of curry wurst and pommes.
“Curry wurst” was something that had caught my interest before. It seemed strange that Germany would host an Indian dish, and offer it at every roadside stand. I decided that “curry” must be the German word for “spicy”. Not so, explained Christian, when we were in Irdning. Curry is curry. So anyway, yes, bring on the curry wurst.
I can not say if what appeared is the official German version of this dish. What it was was a large white wurst (red outside, white inside) drowned in ketchup. On the top of the ketchup was dumped about half a bottle of yellow curry power. Voila, curry wurst.
When Dodie dragged her sorry, newly revived from the dead, self into the restaurant, this dish is what she faced. On advantage is that the thick ketchup insulates the wurst from the curry power, so you can quite effectively scrape the whole thing off as a slurry. Dodie did that, and then ate all her wurst – not her favourite anyway. It turns out 94 km up hills in the sun is better for your appetite than even a while bottle of curry powder!
THE ROTTWEILERS OF ROTTWEIL
Big, tough guys in Rottweil. Actually, the man was a sweetie pie. NOt sure about the dog.
Images of Rottweil's building... lots of produce is from Germany, much from Spain. This is not exclusively a market for those who actually produced the stuff, as we often have in North America.
Dodie likes trying to make her purchases in German, getting the vendors to carefully explain the numbers involved in the amount of the sale and in the change.
This was by a lane, no different from others. The explusion of the jews corresponded with the Plague. (We later saw the same date given for expulsions in Tubingen, at a similar alley there.)
This water processing plant was offering fresh "samples". On a hot day, our 5 litres of water bottles, plus one of coffee are only about half of what we need.
On Oberndorf - a war memorial. This was completed in 2007, showing people are still thinking about it. This one recalls 300+ people that were killed in a labour camp near here.Some memorials just remember the dead soldiers, but more than half carry anti-fascist messages.
This bridge, bearing an autobahn (A road), was way up in the air. It is supported on single pylons that in no way seem able to prevent sway. So weird to cycle under it.
DODIE TANKS FOR A SHORT BIT AT TUBINGEN - AND THE REMEDY?
After hours in the hills and the sun, Dodie lacked the power to help finish the tent set up. However, after just 30 minutes she sprang back to life. I waited until later to bonk, trying to catch up with computer chores. Just barely made it into my sleeping bag.
Curry wurst. This was only the second exception to our observation that you can't get a bad meal in Europe. Surely dumping yellow curry powder wholesale, and over ketchup, can not be the official recipe?
