Ingolstadt Sept 3rd

Sunday was a day of indolence, sitting at the campsite reading and having the odd beer. We did manage to wander into town in the evening for a few hours. There were, of course, many, many clothes shops. These shops must make some money so who goes in them? Presumably many women with more money than sense and men with large egos (or is it inferiority complexes?) Finding a shop that sells something that we might want to buy is almost impossible. Had a good quality meal for Baden-Wurtenburg Lande - a pizza. Bart was in bed by 10.30, I wandered back about midnight to find him asleep so retired to the fire for an hour with the Marion supermarket's finest quality schnappes - cost about €8 a litre.

In the morning there was no escape. Back to the canoe shop and off with Chris to Ulm.

Slightly worrying when we heard a crack from the canoe as he tightened the ropes on the roof rack. The canoe seats soon fell out on the road so, after Bart had run down the road to retrieve them, we decided it would be better to carry them inside the car. Pleasant drive, the B33 is a road that crosses Lake Constance. Lots and lots of solar panels, big fruit fields - nectarines seemed very popular. We found a put in point for the canoe on the river just below a sluice above Ulm i.e. with a long run before we had to get out for the next sluice We first had lunch of a true Baden-Wurtenburg speciality - macaroni cheese. We were too nervous to eat it all.

Then we had to go. Chris showed me how to steer and how we should get in the boat and we were off before 3 p.m. We tried a practice landing after 100 metres and Bart got out and in successfully. (As the fat git I sit in the back and should always be first in the boat at the back and last out.) Keeping in a straight line seemed to be a bit of a problem. Chris had advised us to stay five metres from the side so it would be easy to swim to the side if we fell in. We were quite often within five metres of the side, just it was sometimes the left bank, sometimes the right; the river is about fifty metres wide.

There had been no current to notice until the river Iller came in then we were travelling along quite quickly. We decided that we should try and land in such a current. We had three attempts and reached the bank each time but before Bart could get out the back end of the canoe swung round and we were off again, backwards, of course. This was the first time that Bart was worried. What would happen if the current was strong as we approached a sluice? One of the reasons that the current was strong was the river was shallow; we decided that the solution was just jump out with the rope in hand. Yes we would get wet but we could stand and everything in the canoe was tied down so even if it overturned we should n't lose things.

The river slowed and we drifted through Ulm, rather a nice looking town but we had places to go and didn't stop. The place we had to go was the first sluice. We approached very carefully and very slowly. About 200 metres short we stopped and Bart got out to investigate. We could go very close and there was no apparent current. We managed this manouvre quite sucessfully but pulling the boat out proved quite an effort. It weighs about 45 kgs and had about twenty odd kgs of crap in it. We pulled it out and I went off to investigate. I walked half a kilometre downstream but there was no choice. We carried Doris about 100 metres and this involved three rest stops. We attached a safety rope to a post and wound a couple of loops around the post with Bart letting it down. Trouble was that post wasn't exactly at the top of the 45 degree steps and it was very difficult for me to guide the boat down the steps. We managed, of course. There was a ring built into the concrete so I threaded the rope at the front through this and told Bart to hold it. This he did, but didn't hold the side of the boat (as is normal) as I got in. The boywonder is very clever but if you want two thoughts in his head when it comes to things practical you had better be specific and not assume any memory. End result; boat tips up, I end in the water, some stuff in the boat gets wet and the boat ships some of the aforementioned liquid.

We had seen some swans, including several taking off - always a magnificent sight, mallards, swifts etc. plus a couple of birds I could not identify; the highlight in that way though was seeing a kingfisher flashing across the water.

There was a village a couple of kilometres below the sluice so we called at a day. 12 kms in 4 hours! It is now only 2,670 kms to the Black Sea.

Bart charmed the lady in the hotel to giving us the one single room available (other hotels were kilometres away) and supplied us with a mattress so we were fine. A few beers for me (and one for Bart), rosti and bed beckoned but not before we realised that all the locals were piss artists. One abused Bart (in English) for writing his diary but you could tell how drunk they were when the woman fell in the rosebed as they were leaving. Next up was Franz, who assured us we were mad to canoe to Vienna! He went off after ten minutes to sort out some drinks for us and, fortunately, never came back. We didn't hang around after dinner to see what other drunken delights awaited us. However, I suspect Franz has a point.

I was not at my best in the morning, having demolished the remains of the "emergency wine" (€1.55 a litre) whilst writing the previous paragraphs so Bart went off to get the emergency rations whilst I had an extra twenty minutes kip. Refreshed and we were off at 10.10 after paying sixty-five euros for bed, breakfast and evening meal (plus booze) for both of us. Germany is a cheap country.

A beautiful day. We started noticing much more fish and plants as well as the birds. Everything went rather too smoothly really. Neither of us fell in, we enjoyed the paddling, we stopped in a nice town for a lovely "lunch" of coffee and cake. Then we went searching for supplies. Our means of lowering our esteemed craft into the water was some "rope" we had bought in Finsbury Park market, actually a clothes line. This had been showing signs of wear as we had repeated the lowering the boat back into the water twice more in the morning. All we found was another clothes line but this one has metal in the middle. Only slight problem is that Bart's Swiss army knife can probably not cut it, so a thirty metre "rope" may not be ideal.

Anyway, back into the water for another couple of hours, another portage round a sluice (this one appeared to have a disused lock next to it) and rolled into the local canoeing club just after 6. So eight hours in the day. Shame was, porterage and lunch aside we had ony had 4 hours actual padling and done eighteen kms! The Black Se in five or six weeks is looking dodgy. The people at the canoe club were great - camp anywhere, park the boat and hot showers (all for €11), gave us a map, offered to drive us into town, good beer in the machine at €1.50, Beautiful sunset - luuuverly. All the members seemed quite good at drinking - are we spotting a trend here?


Wandering into town (Gunzburg) for dinner was a surprise. The architecture seemed more Dutch or Flemish 17th or 18th century to us than anything you would expect in southern Germany. Dinner was nothing special though; Bart fell in lust with the waitress (the reason for choosing the restaurant) but that is not the first time for choosing a restaurant on such a basis.

As we packed to leave the following morning there was another, very significant, act of kindness from one of the canoe club members. When Bart said something about having the haul the canoe round the locks he burst out laughing. He got out two bikes and went back, with Bart, to the last sluice we had passed through the previous day and showed him how to work the lock alongside! That one was actually broken but it could have been many days before we saw someone use one and realised how, or that we could, use them. There had been no-one at all on the river the previous day, we saw one boat on the new day, building up to five the following day - none of them anywhere near a sluice/lock.

We had a good day doing 22 kms, we were clearly getting better. We managed four locks, three using the approved method. There is one slight problem with this, someone has to paddle the canoe in and paddle it out the other end. Bart was busy reading the instructions so that left little choice. Having watched Bart operate the machinery I was not keen on disappearing down a five metre deep hole that had water in when I entered and should have a lot less water in when I left, if the door opened; I could not find any emergency ladder if the door didn't open. I was distinctly nervous but nothing for it.


Actually it was a piece of cake, there was an emegency ladder and this is German engineering, so it soon became routine. The next two were fine but the last one of the day had a different mechanism for turning it on; apparently a key. Surprising I know, but we didn't have one. There was nobody about at the hydro-electric power plant that is part of all these sluices so it was back to carrying.

We actually had a proper lunch stop with a traditional German pizza. We were getting more confident so I even risked a beer. I went looking for supplies and, naturally, found plenty of clothes shops, kebab houses and takeaway pizzas but nothing remotely useful. On the way back to the boat a stop in the bakery to buy some bread took about fifteen minutes; Bart will charm anything even vaguely feminine under thirty.

A lovely couple of hours and we saw a building that might be the canoe club marked on the map. A stop and some kids embararssed to be caught smoking said there was no canoe club or campground, they pointed us back to our previous nights destination. Two hundred metres downstream there was the canoe club and campsite. This was really just a campsite with a canoe club attached. The menu was not inspiring so we wandered in to town to have a traditional Greek meal. This wasn't bad but I decided that Bart didn't know enough about Greek booze so ordered an ouzo with ice, a lemon ouzo and a mere quarter litre of retsina for him to try with the main course. I hadn't realised that we would each get complimentaay ouzos as both starters and disgestifs. Bart does not like ouzo and decided that retsina was horrible, so I had to help him out.


Bart went straight to bed on return to the campsite and even I was in bed by 11! Bart did vacate the tent fairly early because of my "night noises". Serves him right, he should have drunk his ouzo.

The weather began to change. Not just dew in the morning (I haven't packed the tent dry yet) but morning mists. The Horse Chestnut leaves had started to turn brown before we left England and, rather to my surprise, they had here too and every day we see more autumnal colours.

We were slowly pushing the distances, 29 kms that day although we still didn't manage to start before ten, this was mainly because it was another grey, slightly drizzly morning. I wa getting used to Bart's vagueries, putting his hands on the sides of the boat and lifting his arse up, every ten minutes and his random swapping of sides with his paddle (this causes a manouvre almost sharp enough to call a swerve if I haven't noticed and immedately swapped sides to compensate.) I have more leg room than Bart so don't have much problem with a stiff arse, I just get a sore back. We agree, however, that an hour at a stretch is enough. When we take a break, the last thing we want to do is sit down; we stand or Bart sometimes lies down for a few minutes doze.


The day had proceeded pleasantly and peacefully enough until about 200 metres before the canoe cliub we were aiming for as the night's destination when we saw some white water! Shit! Shit! Shit! (That is the polite version.) If you are rafting you would hardly have noticed. We managed to get ashore and survey the options when some kids in kayaks came up and started playing in it. If we has had a kayak I think we would have risked it but not in this thing where your backside is 25centimteres above the water and nothing is enclosed - particularly our fear. Part of the problem was caused by a bridge that exaggereated the impact so we carried the boat under the bridge and got back in. Bart did the rock spotting and I did the steering and paddled with just enough power to allow me to steer. Actually, it ws quite easy and we were soon through. There was a warning in the book and I have finally persuaded Bart to take some interest when my necessary dialect of foreign is not up to scratch.

We had not spotted the canoe club and the current quickly carried us a bonus 1.5 kms down stream before we were certain of our mistake. We turned back upstream and, by paddling hard, we could make some progress but we were clearly not going to make it back far against that current so we abandoned Doris on the bank for the night and found a pension. The lady declined but Bart's charm, together with the paddles we carried to reduce the risk of theft did the trick. Maybe we carry the paddles as a badge of honour so people would ask what we were doing. As a chat up line for the Boywonder it does not seem to have worked too well as yet.

In the morning the current meant that we did 14 kilometres in the first 80 minutes. We do not really want a current of 10 kms but three or four would be great, it would convert 6 hours paddling from 30kms to 50. We paddle at about 5 kms per hour across the water and six hours a day of this is the hardest physical exercise Bart thinks he has done; personally I find cycling for half that time is much harder. Because of the locks everywhere the current is normally barely perciptible and for two or three kms behind each lock is, in effect, non-existent.

We are getting blasse about the plethora and quantity of wildlife, although we could live without the midges. Herons are common as muck, birds of prey a common sight, small fish everywhere but the highlight today was seeing a 30 cm fish leap clear of the water about four metres in front of the boat. Needless to say I cannot identify most of the wildlife and I am even worse when it comes to the flowers and trees - nettles excepted.

There are surprisingly few villages close to the river (perhaps because of the history of flooding before the building of the huge levees that run almost continuously along a few metres back from the river when it is not in the hills) so lunch is often a cheese or banana sandwich although, thanks to the book, we have always found a town for the night. If we did not get a decent breakfast and dinner every day, Bart would be useless.

We were warned by a friendly guy at the last sluice that the current round to the canoe club can be quite rapid so we approached cautiously with not too much current apparent until we clouted the pontoon very hard. We pulled Doris out and Bart rapidly abandoned plans for a swim, the current had certainly increased to five or six kms. In a way, it is logical for canoe clubs to want to be where there is some fast water. Another warm German welcome (we are now in Bavaria, our third German state, even though we had only done 110 kms).

A relatively early night was too early for me so I retired to the shower room with the emergency Apple Schnappes to sit on a bench and read. For some reason Bart thought this was sordid. It did soon become sordid when I dropped and smashed the half empty bottle. Cleaning up glass with toilet roll and hosing down the floor with the shower had not been my expected entertainment. What the two women in the ladies thought of the smashing bottle is not recorded.

And so we continued. Today was an easy day - 20 kms - so we could have our rest day in Ingolstadt; the second conecutive Sunday rest day! Are we getting religious? No, it is just that very few shops are open so we have a good excuse for doing nothing except the washing and drinking beer. The book warned of an impassible bit below the last sluice of the day - only the second, the river is flattening out. So we walked along the bank and it was quite fast but not too tricky. We parked a bit past the city and then spent hours aimlessly looking for a hotel. The first three that we tried just did not have anybody at reception and didn't answer bells or shouts so we ended up going to a business hotel that costs €85 per night for B & B for two of us! We have walked today about as far as we paddled.

My steering today was back on form. Yesterday I managed to clout the bank twice because I had been experimenting with different methods of steering. There is neither keel nor rudder on Doris Dobbin and the bottom is flat so the only way of steering is making one side of the boat go faster than the other.This sounds simple and is. The only problem is that once you have started a turn there is nothing to stop Mrs Dobbin from keeping on turning in the same way. In skiing you start one turn as you finish the previous one. With paddling a canoe you start to turn as soon as you have started the previous one. The man at the back does the steering and Bart has learnt not to try and help unless specifically asked. For some reason Bart does not want to look at the back of my head so I am the captain. Either because I am stronger than Bart, a better paddler or (most likely) because I am at the back, I naturally exert a greater turning effect on the boat than Bart so we tend to turn away from the side I am paddling on. To correct this I am supposed to "feather" my paddle to act as drag at the end of some strokes. This means that I am steering by slowing "my" side of the boat down. I don't like this so keep experimenting by swapping sides and paddling on the same side as Bart for two or three strokes to speed up "his" side; this means that we go in less of a straight line but quicker. To turn sharp left when I misjudge it I dig my paddle in hard on the left hand side. I don't like this either because we loose momentum so I would paddle hard on the right (the same side as my esteemed travelling companion) and after three or four hard strokes the boat would suddenly turn. Trouble is I didn't always have enough room for three or four hard strokes! Today I was back to steering how I was taught.

Clearly the Black Sea is looking a bit tricky, unless we hitch a ride. One or two of you have suggested that you might want to join us for a bit. Walking is more the pace than cycling! It is 520 kms to Vienna and 580 to Bratislava so we should reach one or other before the end of the month and our rate of progress is quite predictable at around 200km per week, in a good week.

Happy Birthday Sal.