Well, this evening has turned out a lot better than I thought it would a couple of hours ago. I’m sitting in a chair -yes remember those? In a sunny but strange campsite near but not in Regensberg south eastern Germany, about 30 miles from the border with the Czech republic. Lots of miles today in fact 239 nearly all on motorways for a change so apart from one or two not particularly near misses with big trucks, it was easy riding and mostly dry. I thought it too far to go to Regensburg so opted for a campsite about 20 miles nearer right next to the lake Murnesee. When I arrived I sat on my bike in the car park for a while as it was threatening to rain and I was in two minds about staying. Eventually after paying a nice English speaking lad at the reception (who told me about his exploits getting drunk) put my tent up in a hurry and in rather a sullen mood, arranging the opening away from the site and facing the attractive lake here, the place is full of caravans and families yelling at each other (there is an elderly man shouting even now – I think he must do it at home) and someone just belched loudly before climbing into a white van and driving away (thankfully) but the rain held off.

I struck up conversation with my neighbours in a smart motorhome from Switzerland who have travelled up to Poland and around and are returning home with their dog. Having only spoken to him, he was reassuringly articulate (in English) in this rather rough at the edges place. Also, I am starved for conversation with just being limited to prosim, dove and dobre for the last 4 days – which is hardly a rich and nuanced vocabulary. He put together an extremely smart chair and has lent it to me. It makes such a difference. I will definitely pack one if I ever do such a trip again. He tells me he rides a motorbike and recently took a 2 week break to blast around Italy and the Alps. So he understood the ‘I’ve not done culture on this holiday’ syndrome that I have got into. Just covering the miles, loading up the bike and unloading, planning routes is the fun of it. So, maybe I will do this again but with certain changes: find someone to ride with; head for somewhere and stay 2 or 3 nights then move on; take a folding chair; consider purchasing a Beemer  [note on 19/08/09 – I’m collecting a 1200gs tomorrow!]; maybe head for somewhere with more reliable weather like Spain on the ferry to Santander. The mixture of camping and the odd small hotel works well and is cheap. This place was 12 euro. Last night was even less and the first night was 5 Euro. Now, returning to the elderly man shouting: we are not far from Nuremberg and his rants bear a striking similarity in tone and style and volume (if not in content which I cannot understand) to Hitler’s speeches to the rallies in that city. Either this gentleman has studied the tapes of the rallies or is actually Hitler himself. There is a restaurant adjoining the site and I will see if my neighbours want to eat there later. I can order rolls for breakfast before 7pm. There are fatish people riding up and down on bicycles.

German camp sites seem to have a different clientele to many other countries.