I’ve been planning this trip for years. Making the journey from the Alps to Slovakia by bike was a dream of mine 15 years ago. But then I got more into hills, so I kept putting it off. I’ve been vacationing in the Balkans (Croatia and Romania) for the past few years, which I’ve written a few articles about, and it just wanted a change. So I went to Slovakia via St. Moritz and Stelvio Pass.
Day five Germany
The Germans woke me up before six; I climbed out of my tent and couldn’t stop wondering. The guys were sitting in the Bavarian, all the doors open and discussing, obviously planning some hiking. Not disturbing them or myself, I quickly pack up and fly on my way. I’m 40 km behind my buddy, so we’ll go camping together today.
The road is mostly flat, but I zigzag up and down through the cornfields. The kilometres to Innsbruck are slowly dwindling on the signs. This catch-up stretch doesn’t even stay with me. My only memory is shopping in Pfaffenhoffen in a village with lots of F’s and blacks I’ve met. Then I just arrived in Innsbruck, after about ten years, looking for the centre and something interesting.
Insbruck
I’m intrigued by the bridge. I just get tangled up on the exit road, and it takes me a while to take a shortcut on the main streets off the cycle paths to reach Inno again. The chase continues. I’m supposed to spend the night at a German family farm, but I get a new rival on the way to Kuffstein.
Storm over Kuffstein
As I’m pedalling leisurely, looking up at the sky above the mountains, I see suspiciously dark storm clouds. Not 10 minutes have passed, and I can already feel them on my back; other cyclists are taking cover, but I have no time today, and I’m speeding up. I escape the storm for a while, stare at the blackness behind me and whiz along the dry road to Kuffstein on the radler, where I plan to wait out the downpour. I managed to dodge the second wave, too, and just as I sat down in the town cafeteria, the natural drops came.
So I ordered an iced coffee to go with the radler and checked the radar to see how I could still make 50 kilometres today. By the looks of it, more rain is yet to come, so I’d better head out, which was a good idea after all. After I left, the valley closed behind me in storms, and I was driven by the wind from the Alps and the radler through the 40s onto the German plains near the Inn River.
Inn river
So I reached Rosenheim very quickly, but before I got it, I turned off to a farm in the village of Riedering. I pay 12 Euros for a night’s stay; there is a natural cold shower, home-made farm produce and a full fridge of Radler and cola. The weather didn’t suggest any surprises; I left for a storm from the uncovered tent and almost didn’t make it back in time, and the rain arrived, actually the first proper rain on this trip.
Day six, through Germany in storms
The day of action starts with a wake-up call around three o’clock, some lightning and thunder close to our meadow, the rain testing my tent, and I hold the poles in the wind with my hand and hope it doesn’t blow away and drench me.
But all the thunderstorms pass through here in a few minutes, and by morning, it’s calmer. After seven, we start packing, but we don’t make it, and another violent storm arrives, which we wait out in the kitchen. On the second time, we managed to pack up and move to the food in the village, another storm. A few minutes later, we are on our way to Simssee, but we almost don’t make it 7 km, and we are caught by another wave, even with an iceberg, which we wait out under the roof of a sawmill.
So the day starts excellent, but we expect no more passes and head towards Chiemsee.
Lake Chiemsee
Alps to Slovakia by bike. We continue for a few kilometres in peace and are slowly approaching when, suddenly, a cloud is behind us. We quickly hide our bikes at a bus stop. Within seconds, there was such a break that the water poured off the cloud, another iceberg fell, and in 3 minutes, the sun came out again. Unbelievable, but fortunately, it was the last greeting of the alpine storm flow for the day.
We go around the lake, and I keep peeking for a place to rest where I could fly the drone again.
Finally, we stand at a lovely pier, and the shots from above will show the beauty of the surroundings. We reach the end of the lake, and I ignore the navigation messages, so we get on a slightly different road. And I have to keep looking at the map to ensure we don’t end up back in the Alps somewhere in Salzburg.
Burghausen
Finally, after a bit of wandering, we come to the Inn River by a long carve. In Burghausen, we discover that the world’s longest castle, up to 1,050 metres long, stands above the town. It is a lovely little village where we use the accessible town toilets and cross the bridge to the other side. We get a great view of that long castle up the steep hill.
The last kilometres of today take us off the main road, where we drop the vertical metres again, only to be met with a steep climb to the main road again at the end.
We bypassed the town of Braunau completely, partly by taking a wrong turn, but we felt we could have done better at the centre. We had eased our way along the main road by the end and finally arrived at today’s destination—the campsite in Obernberg. 14 Euros per person. Price for lovely spot, separated by a high hedge.
Day seven, from the Inn to the Danube
We didn’t even notice a shop and a petrol station near the campsite in the evening, so our morning journey headed straight for the grocery store. We shop for breakfast, hoping to find some benches, and pedal for almost an hour to the town of Schärding, where we occupy benches in a no-cycling zone and fortify ourselves for the journey ahead. Luckily, no one scolded us, and soon, we were counting down the last kilometres to Passau, where the Inn finally disappeared into the waters of the Danube.
Blue Danube route
And with that, those gravel Inn cycle paths finally disappear, and we await the asphalt Danube cycle path. By the way, I’ve been reminiscing about the beauty of the Alpine peaks and the roads between them for a few days now; these flat rest routes are rather dull and unenjoyable, made all the worse by the three days to come.
Passau
Before Passau, we cross over to the German side and through the forest, we come to the town. The plan is to walk through the island between the Inn and the Danube, looking around the historic centre, but only hanging around briefly. I’m intrigued by the burgers on offer in the centre. We immediately sit down on a terrace, ordering the first food I’ve bought outside after a week on the road. The burger was fine, but for 16 Euros, I would have expected more.
We go through town, find the first signs for the Danube Road and leave Passau. The wind is blowing off our backs, so it’s easy going on the tarmac; I’m just surprised by the long distances between towns. I thought we’d still be discovering something along the way, weaving between German and Austrian cyclists, but there are fewer cyclists here than on the Alpine routes.
During our break at one of the few gas stations, I get a phone call and find out I will be hospitalized as soon as I return. Although I was expecting it, at least I didn’t have to end my trip early, but it didn’t add to my mood. The rest of the day, I’m just twisting the pedals. Our destination was supposed to be an urban camp somewhere around Linz.
Around seven, we pass a turn-off and look at our mobile phones where to continue. At the same time, I noticed a small, nice campsite next to us. I checked the possibilities and for 12 Euros we stay, the landlord is building it up gradually in the village of Fall, he has big plans, and these smaller family campsites suit us. Plus, we still have an hour of sun to dry things from the previous days.
Day eight, many km thanks to chance
We have about 300 kilometres to finish the trip after yesterday, and in the morning, we are considering how to divide the route for the last three days. In the morning, we start slowly. Right at the beginning, we are slowed down for almost an hour by a tugboat and crossing to the other side of the Danube for 4 Euros. We count down the kilometres to Linz.
Linz
The centre is close to the Danube, so we at least take a moment to distract ourselves at the local markets. The kilometres are adding up slowly today. Morning is challenging for me especially, and fatigue is weighing on me. I get going in the afternoon most days. So we continue from Linz towards Grein to make it at least 120 kilometres to Melk today.
After a few kilometres, I need to stop and have a coffee, buy some sweets for the road and head out to fight the kilometres. Before the town of Ybbs, we notice clouds behind us, so the plan is clear: run through the town of Grein and take a break in Ybbs to wait out the rain.
At that point, a trio of Slovaks from Martin catch up with us. They are going from the Czech Republic to Bratislava, and we give a short speech. After chasing them, we take a shortcut in front of Ybbs, where a pizza kebab restaurant with delicious turkey schnitzel and potato salad greets us. After all, nothing came of the rain, and I’m pedalling much better again after drinking a Radler.
Melk
We pass through the centre of Melk in good time, and we’ll make it to the Rossatzbach campsite. But we find it in the dust of reconstruction. Time is still good, and another campsite in Krems might be a better option—half an hour of pedalling to be disappointed in a big expensive campsite. We don’t have a reservation; we’re out of luck.
On the map, we see another campsite 30 kilometres away, seven o’clock in the evening, and no choice but to continue. We still have the wind at our backs, and in an hour and a bit, we are finally at our third campsite today in Zwentendorf, with success. For 10 Euros and right next door is some standup comedian, Austrian Marcin, to the constant laughter of amused Austrians. But I tired after 190 kilometres, immediately fell asleep.
Day nine, sweet home
Here we are, getting up after six in the morning. Surprisingly, the two cyclists sleeping next to us at night are already leaving the campsite. After the previous day’s record, the last 120 kilometres and Vienna await us. It is an excellent time to catch the 18:04 train to Banská Bystrica, maybe even earlier.
I aimed to reach Vienna by 11 a.m., see the centre and head to Bratislava. My partner had an even more explicit goal. He pushed the pedals at a much faster pace; he still had to wait for me, and he didn’t want to go to Vienna. I suffered again since the morning; these straight asphalt kilometres were killing me.
So, in Vienna, we split up; I clicked into the sat nav a route of about 10 kilometres through the centre of Vienna, as I’d never been here before.
Vienna
I put my headphones in my ears to hear the navigation better and admire more and more sights suggested by mapy.cz itinerary. After over an hour of meandering through the city, I try to reach the Danube again and continue my route. My buddy has run up almost 30 kilometres, so I’m good to go.
I’m still passing through the FKK zone in Vienna. I wonder what that means until I see a bunch of naked people before me and pass through some nude beach like the other cyclists. Well, here comes my nightmare, the straight to Orth and then to Hainburg.
Straight to Hainburg
I thought I would go crazy on that long, straight road. My eyes clicked; I almost hit a couple in the oncoming traffic. Both of them were throwing their arms around, but I had my headphones on, and I couldn’t even hear them. Finally, there was a bridge across Hainburg, where my partner and I got back together for the last few miles to Bratislava.
Slovakia
Last kilometres passed pretty well; we got mixed up among the participants of the finished rainbow march on Obchodná Street, and we even caught an earlier express train home. The trip at the end, both of us tired. We had already endured the 3-hour train journey. And at home, a burger and packing for the hospital stay awaited me…
