2023 European trip France / Belgium / Luxembourg / Germany

[Rynglieder]

Once more, this was done on the GTR as I have retired the GSX from touring, but I'll post it up here anyway in case it is of interest to anyone.

This year's little European excursion has just ended, all over now bar washing the bike. It was a relatively short one this year, about 1700-1800 miles over 10 days. On the whole I enjoyed it but in truth there were some disappointments that pulled down the good bits. Oh, and I lost my trousers on the Autobahn...

Once again, the GTR1400 was selected from the garage as the right bike for the job, all of the hotels were booked around a month beforehand via Booking.com. For crossing the channel, I chose the DFDS Dover-Dunkirk ferry this time round; Yes, the tunnel is theoretically quicker but the return crossing by the ferry came in at £81.00 as opposed to £130+ for the tunnel. As one of the "economically inactive" chaps living off his savings, fifty quid is fifty quid, plus quite frankly after 200 motorway miles down to Dover I'm more than happy to rest my ar$e for two hours and get something to eat and drink.

The map shows a rough overview but there were a few more twiddly bits to it than it suggests.

[Rynglieder]

Day 1 Home > St-Omer (278 miles)



The motorway run was uneventful, broken into three chunks to feed my nicotine addiction and I arrived at the port well ahead of my 14:00 sailing. Motorcycles were first on and first off for this crossing and the crew took care of all of the tying down. Back in my working days I would have been up at the Crack Of Sparrows for an earlier crossing and the pushed into the continent for another couple of hundred miles, but now I'm not hemmed into the constraints of annual leave I can take a bit more time so found a budget hotel in St-Omer, just 40 miles in from the coast.





The ride to St-Omer was off the motorways but was none the less somewhat flat straight and unexciting. I already knew that I was in for problems with the Gramin Zumo again though, I'd given up on sending any routes to it in total frustration with the Basecamp software, so I'd gone off with a printed list of addresses as waypoints with the intention of selecting them one at a time. The problem was that having got off the ferry I found France did not exist – if I wanted to chose a country beginning with F it would have to be Faroe Islands, Finland or one other that I had not heard of. Fortunately, it did seem to have some odd waypoints lodged in its memory that I had set earlier in the year so with being able to select that from "favourites" and some decent signposting, I got by.

Having arrived at a sensible time I checked into my adequate but soulless hotel on the edge of the Old Town and set about finding the cathedral and abbey ruins for my camera and a bar for two beers for the inner man.

[seth]

Never been on a channel crossing from the south coast .
Looks a great trip ive spent alot of time in belgium and bits of northen france its stunning countryside and some great roads(also some terrible surfaces in places in belgium)
Glad you had a great time 

[Rynglieder]

Day 2 St-Omer > Rocroi (150 miles)



There were an awful lot of straight lines on the map again for today but I knew it was going to be more interesting. There were only about 150 miles planned as there were a couple of places I wanted to visit and the first of these was only a few minutes from the hotel. It was dry but there'd obviously been a bit of overnight rain as the bike was damp and needed a bit of a wipe over before starting out. Barely as my breakfast had settled and the oil got warm around the engine, I was arriving at La Coupole. To remind me I was back in France though they had arranged to resurface the road with the famous "Gravellons" so that last half mile was like riding on a pebble beach.

La Coupole is a WWII Nazi complex tunnelled into the hills and capped with a 71m diameter concrete dome and it was where they intended to build V1 Flying Bombs and V2 rockets for firing at London. There is a 400-metre walk through the tunnels and then a lift takes you up below the dome where an exhibition deals with the development of the bombs and rockets, the forced labour and concentration camps associated with the site and moves on to space exploration that evolved from the prototype rockets. It was a bit of a rushed visit as I was on a tight schedule for those with more time there is also a planetarium to visit. Annoyingly the sun was coming up behind the dome at the time so I haven't got a decent photo of it from my visit.



Back on the bike again I was off the northern French countryside without much effort going into the steering except when encountering the road closures and long diversions that the French seem to love and followed up by a couple of kilometres of slippery Gravellons. Just as I was preparing myself for a drive into Arras a couple of ruined towers unexpectedly came into view. As I drew past them, I started to look for a spot to pull up on the sunny side in the hope of catching a photo. It wasn't on the schedule but it seems that I had chanced up the remains of Mont St-Eloi abbey, a monument that had I have known was coming up could have gone and explored for nothing.



A period of straight countryside miles followed and I was finding the 50mph speed limit a bit restrictive. Nearly everything can travel that fast so there seemed to be long periods of staring at the back of the same van or truck. After my experience in Norway a few years back when going 11mph over limit cost me £500.00 I'm a bit reluctant to let the bike stetch its legs too much. Nevertheless, before long I was fighting my way through the traffic in the small city of Arras. Although I found my way to my target car park OK, it was closed along with many of the adjacent streets for some sort of event, fortunately there is nearly always somewhere you can squeeze a bike so it was locked up prior to me taking a slightly longer than intended walk into the Citadel of Arras.

Citadels just happened to become a bit of a theme of this trip. It wasn't particularly intended to be that way, but the lands bordering modern France, Belgium and Germany have long been fought over and these star forts – mostly designed by Vauban – keep coming up. The one at Arras ceased to have a military function just a few decades ago and the old barracks buildings are now residential properties and small businesses set within the preserved bastions. Interesting to look around but not a lot to entertain you. At least having visited Swiss Saxony a few years back no one can now accuse me of not knowing my Arras from my Elbe.




From Arras there was another point-and-go run via a McDonalds for a late lunch before moving through Parc naturel régional de l'Avesnois which was new to me and threw up some more interesting riding. Thereafter was an almost seamless change at the Belgian border as I entered the Wallonia region. The only significant difference was that the road signs were different colours and I could go 10mph faster on non-urban roads. It's surprising what difference this extra bit of speed makes to the enjoyment of the ride. At least Belgium had not been excommunicated from my Zumo and I could now find addresses again.
A quick cigarette break in the Belgian small Belgian town of Sivry-Rance and I was then onward to a slightly longer stop at nearby Chimay. I really do enjoy being on the bike in this area, it was good to be back and poking into some little towns and villages that I had not visited before.

After Chimay it was a pleasant ride back over the French border again on some nice roads and onto the fortified town of Rocroi. Once again, I was in the middle of a star or pentagon shaped complex and quickly found the Hotel du Commerce on the town square. A quick shower, change of clothes and there was still enough of the evening left for a walk around the bastions before finding something to eat and a beer.

Not a bad day - easy milage, some curvy roads mixed in with the straight stuff, a few interesting sights captured and all rounded off with a couple of glasses of Jupiler.

[Rynglieder]

And a couple of straggling pictures that would not fit on the last post...

Entering Belgium


Chimay
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Hotel du Commerce, Rocroi

[Rynglieder]

Day 3 Rocroi – Mettlach (c.130 miles) – part 1



Over breakfast I pondered my original intention to visit the city of Luxembourg during this section of the trip. The GTR is a bit of a lump around a city centre especially when bearing 10 days' worth of laundry in various states of decomposition. I was minded to scratch it from the fixture so decided I would spend half an hour looking around Rocroi in the daylight before I left. Once I had had a stroll around some different parts of the bastions to the previous evening I fired up the bike and hit the road again.



It proved a really good road to ride for a tour, initially through the French Ardennes Regional Park, eventually joining the River Meuse at Deville after which it was smooth curves, loops and sunshine – exactly the sort of riding I hoped for. I know the section of the Meuse between Dinant and Namur quite well from previous trips but had never travelled this southern section. After crossing the Meuse at Monthemè a café presented itself as a good place to pull over and take a couple of photos and have a coffee.

Leaving the Meuse at Monthermè my route took me eastwards, now joining the Semois valley and I was treated to another looping riverside ride all the wall to the Belgian border near Bohan. Naturally the cruising speed rose from 50 to 60mph now it felt safer to do so.



I did a quick stop at Bohan-sur-Semois as I wanted to see the historic bridge. A section of railway had been built early in the 20th century eliminating a loop in the Semois by means of two bridges and a tunnel. The railway did not last long, after the outbreak of war the two river bridges were blown up and the tunnel blocked by the French army in an effort to slow the German advance – after the war it was never reconstructed. I got my souvenir photo of the truncated bridge and made may way off again for another enjoyable half hour of Ardennes riding.



There was another brief stop on the bridge over the Semois in Bouillon. I didn't linger as I'd stayed here before some years ago and had already gathered a few pictures. It was at this point I made the decision to skip the visit to Luxembourg city so I adjusted the Zumo to allow a bit of motorway work and directed it to a waypoint on Luxemburg's eastern border.

A bit of a straight cross country run in the direction of Arlon ensued as I had expected, but I think I should have smelt a rat as I found myself going through it rather than around it on the motorway. I'd also envisaged orbiting Luxembourg and been given the slingshot around the other side by the motorway but it was looking suspiciously more central.

Eventually I realised that the Zumo was indeed taking me straight through the middle – all of the congestion and frustration I was hoping to avoid without visiting the actual place I was originally considering going. Just has I had been drawn over for a right hand turn I saw the exact spot I had wanted dead ahead. No chance of changing lanes now, so it was over the Pont Adolphe (and I wouldn't be coming back this way either as it was trams only in the opposite direction). On impulse I swung the bike for a right turn into a side street and then a left and chanced upon an empty stand of motorcycle bays. Although I had given up on Luxembourg it looks like the Zumo had not been prepared to pass it up so it was time for a five-minute walk.

[Rynglieder]

Day 3 Rocroi – Mettlach (c.130 miles) – part 2

For those who don't know Luxembourg it is a lovely small city that seems to be cleaved in two by a deep valley spanned by several bridges, the valley is filled by a park giving respite from the built-up areas either side and above. The best views can be had from the Pétrusse Casemates and it was at this spot I had previously stopped off with my wife on our first ever European motorcycle trip 39 years ago. Despite the passing of time, I was pleased to find it was exactly as I remembered it, complete with kiosk for a take-away coffee while you stand at the stone balustrade taking in the view.



Once my visit was complete, I found the run out of the city was not so bad as I'd feared and the roads soon opened up as I headed out toward Remich. Not as enjoyable as the river valleys of the morning, but a tolerable ride nonetheless. I'm glad the Zumo had forced my hand by its desire for a city break. The sky was looking a bit overcast ahead of me but it was also starting to get unpleasantly warm in all the bike gear, I was already looking forward to the evening's shower.

Remich lies on the Luxembourg side of the Moselle River with Germany over on the opposite bank. It seemed as good a place as any to take my next break from the bike. In truth I didn't do much exploring, just a short walk along the Moselle Esplanade to straighten out my back and then it was back on the bike to start my ride over the Moselle bridge and into a fourth country in this one day.



This was a pleasant ride into the Saarland and once again I was on the edge of familiar territory, this region is at the southern end of the area that I have ridden around regularly in the past when basing myself on the German Mosel and I began to pass signs for the Saar viewpoints that I had previously visited.

It was probably not much mor than half an hour since entering Germany that the bike was descending into Mettlach in the Saar valley and I was trying to locate the rather elusive driveway to my hotel for the night, the Gästehaus Schloss Saareck.



At around £100 for the night, I had busted my budget a bit for this one, but it looked like a quality hotel in an interesting building and in a little town that had visited before and thought worthy of another look. Once inside I realised it may be a bit too grand for an Englishman festooned with dead insects, but the very upmarket receptionist and waiting staff in their penguin outfits made me perfectly welcome. A quick shower and a change of clothes and I was ready to go for my evening stroll. Unfortunately, it had started to rain... Not wanting to pull the bike jacket back on or ruin my hair (I simply can't do a thing with it) it looked like I was in for the night. I enquired about a beer and with a click of the manager's fingers one appeared on a silver tray and was placed on a small table at the side of a winged armchair in the reception for me. I managed to find a tree in the grounds that gave a bit of shelter for my last smoke and after reclaiming my armchair and a second beer that was the day done bar the sleeping.

[Rynglieder]

Day 4 Mettlach > Oberharmersbach (c.135 miles) (part 1)





Opening the curtains at the Gästehaus Schloss Saareck revealed that the rain had not stopped and lingering over breakfast did not improve the situation. So, in a bit of light but warm rain I crossed the Saar with the idea of the Magionot Line defences planted in the Zumo's tiny mind. A first the run was comfortable enough, roughly following the Saar in a south-easterly direction but as I neared Saarlouis and Saarbrüken it all started to get a bit industrial, albeit in a tidy German sort of way.

Once again it was becoming obvious that I was to be taken through the heart of the city give or take a road closure and diversion which I steadfastly navigated through by the diversion signs rather than the Zumo's dubious suggestions.

Most of the morning's riding was unattractive, wet, at 40, 30 or 19mph and I'm pretty sure that although I was trying to be careful, I got flashed by a speed camera in a 19mph zone in the city. After an hour and a half of such progress I reached the border town of Kleinblittersdorf with France just the other side of a small river.  It seemed as good a place as any to pull over at a roadside café and have a few minutes off the bike.
Ready for action again, I mounted up and crossed another border. I'd lost count by now of how many times I have flipped between countries on this trip. The roads were damp but at least it was not actually raining now as I cleared Sarreguemines.  Back into the open French countryside I could legally cruise at up to 50mph again, pinching a bit here and there – a nice enough ride but I eventually ran into rain again. At least the GTR's big fairing and screen was working as it should and by mid-morning I was pulling up at the Ouvrage du Simserhof, the site of a Maginot Line fortress exhibition that I'd considered poking at like a good tourist. I'd arrived too early though and the visitor centre was not due to open for another hour and a half. I'm not sure what I could have seen by walking the marked trails, but the rain was putting me off the idea of trudging round if I was only going to find anything interesting behind locked gates, so in the end all I saw was the car park. It seemed a better idea to push on to the Citadel of Bitche which was the next intended stop, just a few minutes away and I knew via the miracle of Google it would be open.


 
As I approached the settlement of Bitche there was no missing the citadel squatting on the hill above the town. The Zumo had a good attempt at finding its way up there but an inevitable road closure lead to a little improvisation before settling on the car park.



To be continued...

[Rynglieder]

Day 4 Mettlach > Oberharmersbach(continued)


I handed over a few Euros and got a ticket and English audio guide in exchange and started having a mooch around, the sun was beginning to break though now which cheered things up a bit.  There was enough to interest me for an hour or so before I raided the coffee shop and got back onto the bike.



A ride through the North Vosges Regional Natural Reserve ride followed, now in the dry and made the more enjoyable as they seemed to have grasped the concept of bends and included one or two in the road design for the pleasure of motorcyclists.

Only a couple of smaller towns interrupted my flow until I reached the larger town of Haguenau and a conveniently placed fast food outlet allowed me to top up on calories as a precaution as I was really not sure what would be available this evening.

After busting out of the congestion of Haguenau there was a ride through the flat lands of the Rhein valley, the roads were a little busier now but the hills of the Black Forest were clearly visible on the horizon. A moment of doubt flickered through my mind as I approached the Rhein canal locks near Gambesheim as two motorcycles were hurling towards me on the same side of the road but I quickly realised they were clearing the way for a motorcade of black SUVs running in that pretentious "look at me" nose-to-tail fashion so loved by American Presidents. Pulling into the car park at the riverside I had to compete for space with Gendarmerie and half a dozen reporters packing up their gear - no idea what I had missed...I lingered for a final cigarette in France before I crossed the Rhein on the Pont du Gambesheim and once again there was a change of road sign style as I thrust into Germany.

Just as on the French side of the Rhein plain the roads were pretty open, flat and straight at first but those forested hills were getting ever closer. And once again I could ride at 60mph without looking over my shoulder. The ascent seemed to start at just beyond Oberkirch, the GTR's nose was getting a bit of an upward tilt and the roads became more sinuous and wooded.

There was 15 or 20 minutes or so of pleasant Black Forrest riding and I arrived at the Gasthaus Linde a little quicker than I expected. The reason for this became apparent as I tried to check-in with a rather confused barman who eventually spotted that I should be at the Gasthaus Zur Linde down in the next valley. Who'd have thought that there would be two so similarly named hostelries so close together? Suitably remorseful, I stuck the luggage back in the panniers and got on with it.

As it happened I was treated to a superb last few miles between my misguided stop in Löcherberg and my final destination; a road that climbed and looped up, over and down a mountain in a series of bends and hairpins before putting me at my accommodation on the edge of Oberharmersbach.



This time I had the foresight to check I was actually at the right place before dragging all of the bags off the bike. Just as well really, as it was only nearly right. My room was in a separate house across the road from the main bar and restaurant that looked as if it had been carved up into various guest rooms and self-catering apartments. It was perhaps a little dated for some tastes, but it was big enough, clean and had everything I needed. Being a little away from the main centre of evening festivities it would also be a little quieter, in fact it would do nicely for the next four nights. I pulled the bike away from the main building and locked it up on the house car park.



I had another much-needed shower and change of clothes, spent a little time sorting through the luggage and finally strolled across the road where I was served a couple of drinks up on the patio of the main building before turning in for the night. It hadn't been a long day in terms of riding, just over 140 miles - it was a mixed bag, some really good, some unexciting but tolerable and some frustrating stuff around Saarbrücken. 7/10.

[Rynglieder]

Day 5 – The Northern Black Forrest (c. 100 miles)



The day started by wrapping myself around a very decent breakfast, made all the better that I had been able to dig out my stash of PG Tips for a decent cup of tea. The young lady organising the dining room spotted the actions of the stereotypical Brit and swiftly came up with a proper sized mug as well, as those little continental coffee cups just aren't up to the job. A bonus of being based here for four nights was that I could ditch a lot of the baggage that I had brought this far, so the bike was feeling about 20kg lighter when I finally pulled away. I really do take too much stuff with me; the problem is that if you have the space you tend to fill it. The forecast for the day was for unhindered sunshine and a bit more heat than I wanted. At least now I could pull on the Kevlar jeans and ditch the touring trousers.

At one time the road that pulled all of the bikers into the Black Forrest was the B500 Schwarzwaldhochstraße, or Black Forest High road which follows the ridge north-south through the mountains. It was famed for the scenery, the well-kept surface and flowing curves. Sadly, it seems that it has been abused over time and in recent years a 70kph speed limit has been slapped on a lot of it. I'd therefore sorted out a couple of routes in my planning that would take me on less enforced roads but dipping into the B500 for certain sections so as to take it in a bit at a time.

The journey from the Zur Linde took me north, back in the direction I had arrived by the previous evening so I once again had the pleasure of cresting the hill and dropping into the next valley on that winding road, but this time not feeling so tired and with a much more agile steed. I continued to retrace the previous days ride until I reached the small town of Oppenau where I turned north, along the high street and the out on an unclassified but very rideable road into the forest.



There seemed to be a constant stream of motorcycles coming toward me throughout the ride, a sure sign I'd picked a decent road. Just a short while out of Oppenau I reached my first destination of the day, a car park at the start of the path to the Allerheiligen waterfalls. I took the opportunity to have a ramble along the path following the river through its gorge until I reached the foot of one of the larger falls where I lingered a while to take a few snaps. If I had been minded to, I could have followed this path all of the way to the village of Allerheiligen, but where's the fun in that on a hot day if you have fourteen hundred cubic centimetres of engine to do the work for you?

The bike was duly ridden down the hill and eventually came to anchor in the village where another short walk took me to the abbey ruins. I managed to get a bit of a view of them but it looked like a young bride and groom were taking advantage of the backdrop for their wedding photos so pushing off seemed the right thing to do.



The road continued to roll nicely around the hillsides until it eventually reached the fabled B500 at Ruhestein. My next port of call was to be Mummelsee, a lakeside resort in the mountains. I confess its sudden manifestation took me my surprise, traditionally I have found rivers and lakes at the bottom of hills, so I wasn't quite ready when it sprang out at me after a long uphill climb and I overshot the car park entrance necessitating a rather inelegant U-Turn. At the second time of asking I did manage to catch the car park entrance and just abut found a place big enough to leave the bike.

Mummelsee is an attractive enough place and as I walked in front of the lakeside hotel, I found myself envious of those sat at tables with a nice cool beer. A bit of queuing at the Imbiss window led to a brief negotiation and me coming away with an alcohol-free beer in exchange for a few euros. I sat in the sun for a short while with my beer and a smoke until I was ready to move on again.

[Rynglieder]

The next target I had locked onto was the small city of Baden-Baden, somewhere I had briefly passed through before and felt was worthy of another look. There was a relaxing 70kph bimble along the speed-camera infested B500, no one seems to misbehave or overtake, so you get used to looking at the blunt end of the same car or van for long periods, you need to accept this if you are going to get any enjoyment out of the run. Eventually I edged into the suburbs and due to a lapse of concentration found myself in a road tunnel going right underneath the city centre. Another 180-degree manoeuvre brought me back into the city centre and as luck would have it an empty motorcycle bay swam into view. I wasn't sure where I was in relation to the beating heart of the metropolis but a quick consultation with Google maps suggested that I was in fact only a few minutes' walk from the centre.

Whereas Luxembourg was exactly as I remembered it from a visit back in the days when I had more hair, Baden-Baden did not seem at all familiar even though I had passed through before. My walk from the bike took me alongside the river at the edge of the Kurpark, across the front of the Trinkhall and then deeper into the Kurpark. Baden-Baden is an old spa resort and in the early 20th century was the place to be for the gentry in a similar way to the French Rivera. It hasn't really shaken this off, the tourists I was rubbing shoulders with all seemed very affluent and the shopping streets were lined with the stores of the usual designer brands. I stopped to get a coffee in one of the quieter streets and watched the Bright Young Things go by for a while, but it was not really my thing so I found my way back to the bike ready to search out some landscape or history.



Like some sort of overweight mole, the GTR tunnelled its way back out of the city centre. This time I left on a more minor road which wound up into the hills alternating between sunlight vistas and shady forests until I emerged in Forsbach. From there it was back onto the wider faster flowing roads for a southward ride in the direction of Freudenstadt. The B462 also has several sections limited to 70kph, but there was the odd stretch where you could get a bit of a squirt of the throttle for an overtake and look at the back of something else for a change.



There was a very pleasant ride down to Freudenstadt followed by a pedestrian-paced penetration of the city centre under its 30kph limits and then out on the B28 at a much more agreeable velocity for another stint on proper biker's roads. A fuel stop was required at Knibes, I found myself surprised at how few times I'd had to fill up on this trip, I suppose the low speed limits I'd been encountering will have been a factor but the GTR seemed to be very frugal.



There was a burning need to pull up soon after to take in the cold drink I'd bought from the petrol station and have a cigarette break. (They still don't like you doing that on the fuel station forecourt you know). I found a layby alongside a woodland hiking trail which did very nicely for the stop.
Onto the final leg of my return loop, I continued with the B28, B500 and L92 now travelling west and the route becoming curvier and more entertaining as I took the rollercoaster ride around the hillsides and back down into Oppenau where I had passed through on my way out that morning.



Before long I was doing my new favourite commute over the hills and down to my hotel where I arrived in plenty of time to get freshened up before heading up to the restaurant where I had a table booked and a steak demanding my attentions. Having seen that off I finished with a couple of Alpirsbacher Klosterbrau beers and then ambled back across the road for an early night.

There had not been much riding today, at about 100 miles it was probably not much more than an afternoon out back at home, but I'd caught a lot of sights and there's nothing better than a motorcycle to link them together.

[Rynglieder]

Day 6 – The Southern Black Forrest (C.135 miles)



I was welcomed into the breakfast room and directed to a table with my own Special Needs mug and my own flask of boiling water – they were getting to know me... back in my room I inserted the aging bod into the Kevlar jeans and boots again as yet another hot day with unbroken sunshine was forecast.

The plan for today was to loop around the southern part of the Black Forest and take in a few places I hadn't visited before. It started very slowly; leaving the hotel in this direction took me through a string of villages mostly under the thumb of the annoyingly restrictive 30kph / 19mph limits. There followed an uninspiring run on a more major road along the valley floor, eventually on impulse I turned off into the small town of Wladkirch where the bike was abandoned by the railway station and I set off on foot into the town in search of a coffee. I found a quiet place to sit and take a leisurely slurp while looking back at the castle on the hill above the town.



Having extricated myself from the embrace of sunny Waldkirch I pointed the bike at the signs for Freiburg and set about slaughtering more insects with the GTR's screen. It seemed a bit of a convoluted route that took me into Freiburg, I honestly can't recall if that was down to a diversion or the Zumo playing tricks on me again, but I seemed to hop from one speed restricted village to another along the valley floor. Needless to say, Freiburg city centre was even worse with tram lines thrown in to make sure that you are concentrating on where to place the front tyre.



A road closure in the city centre on the road I wanted to leave by threw me of course and into a world of congestion, but flicking though various back streets I eventually found myself going out on the road to Schauinsland which was my next intended destination. Even as I broke free of the suburbs the tram tracks persisted along the road but eventually I was in the countryside once more and feeling that I was starting to make progress.

As I started to climb from the valley floor toward the mountain resort of Schauinsland I found myself confronted with a "no motorcycles" road sign. I pulled over so that I could carefully read the smaller sign below it as my German is not that quick. I knew enough to learn that motorcycles were prohibited from the mountain road on weekends and bank holidays during the summer months so I was forced into a U-Turn. Back-tacking a short distance, I took a turning for Horben that I had passed moments before and decided to go exploring. I reached Horben and passed straight through - sleepy village did not begin to cover it - it looked like it was in a coma.  More frustration followed as when passing the village's outer limits, I found that the road ahead was prohibited to all vehicles. Returning to the small car park in the village I dragged out the map and quickly realised my journey was at a dead end, there was no alternative but to go back into Freiburg and crawl round in the congestion again.



Perhaps it didn't seem so bad the second time around as I could at least avoid the old town as I picked out the road for Titisee. It hadn't been in the plan for today, but I'd been there before and in the absence of any other idea it would do. A couple of tunnels brough me out onto the B31 where I let off steam by using every one of the 130kph allowed on the dual carriageway, it was good to get moving again after spending the last hour crawling round on the road to nowhere. After a while the road began to rise into the mountains again with a series of hairpins and crawler lanes and my ride started to feel a lot better.

[Rynglieder]

Arriving in Titisee I soon picked up the signs for the motorcycle park that I remembered from my last visit. The barrier arms to the public car park are left purposely short so that bikes can squeeze through and there is a dedicated parking area complete with lockers and changing rooms to stow your gear. At least I was starting to feel the love again. There was ample room on the GTR to tuck away my own gear today so I did so and set about the walk down to the lakeside.



I promenaded myself along the lakeside amongst the hordes of weekend tourists for a short while, but being clad in jeans and bike boots I felt as appropriately dressed as I would be in a Santa suit given the weather. I took time to get hold of a chicken burger and a cold drink and find a shady spot to reflect on what had been a disappointing and frustrating day thus far.



No queueing up to pay at the exit barrier for me, I was through the gap like a rat up a drainpipe and back on the road again, hoping for a better afternoon's riding. Initially I rode toward Tittisee-Neustadt, but before getting involved in another town took the road along the bottom of the Jostal which did indeed prove to be a fast and free-flowing ride, eventually joining the fabled B500 where I turned toward Furtwangen.

Despite what I had read this section of the road was not entirely restricted to 70kph, only the more hazardous sections seem to be controlled and as I had hoped my enjoyment continued, with a steady stream of other bikes passing me in the opposite direction. Furtwangen was passed through with nothing more than a cursory glance as I pushed on toward Triberg.

I was still sticking with the B500 until a road closure pushed me up toward the village of Schonach but it was a short and quite agreeable detour into Triberg where I was set upon by a flock of motorcycle parking signs. Taking P2, at random I found myself entering a rooftop car park where the sole bike was just leaving so I had the place to myself. I think I found three dedicated motorcycle parks that I could have chosen from, but where the GTR had been berthed was fine for a walk alongside the river that flowed through this attractive town with its half-timbered buildings. There was no doubt that I was in Cuckoo-Clock country, they seemed to little else to buy on the main street.



After a quick slug from the bottle in my top-case I rode out on the final leg of the day's ride. There was the odd slow bit but in the main it was a good if not spectacular ride along the B33 to Hausach before swinging onto the B294 as far as the turn off for the Hammersbach Valley. As it was that morning, this was a slow final run back to my quarters at Oberhammersbach but it had been a long day and I was happy to "cruise" for a bit.

After washing away the day's excesses in the shower there was time for a couple of beers on the terrace before a relatively early night in the company of my book and a bit of music stored on the phone. It hadn't been a great morning but the afternoon had compensated a bit.

[BbigMmac]

Germany is my favorite also, especially the Black Foreset region with is beutifull curves and great tarmac. Nice machine the GTR 

[VladTepes]

Awesome mate got any videos from your trip? This one needs an update:
https://gsx1400owners.org/wp/

(note video only visible from desktops and maybe tablets)