03 Sep 2011

Stafa, Switzerland to Waldshut, Germany (91 Km)

Time to strike out, time to leave behind the pampering, the lovely accommodations and meals and conversations, the generosity of friends Monique and Matthias who took us in, took us out, and ensured that we had a truly wonderful time in Stafa and Davos, time to hit the road on two wheels once more.  What more can we say about the reigning Hostess with The Mostest other than that we are so glad we were able to get to know her better and that we hope someday we can host her in Seattle.  The door will always be open, although it’s unlikely the house will smell as good as her fresh-baked cookies.

Since they hadn’t done enough for us already, it was only fitting that Matthias took it upon himself to escort us – via bicycle – to the outskirts of Zurich proper.  Some could theorize that perhaps he was just trying to make sure that we actually left, but I think he enjoyed the ride and we certainly enjoyed following his lead.  “To The Route 66!” we said and he took us there, nudging us gently out of the nest as we took wing into Switzerland on our own.  Our first priority?  Get to Germany.  You see, we are unemployed travelers on a budget and last time I checked, Lonely Planet hadn’t published a “Switzerland on a Shoestring” book.

It’s not that we don’t love Switzerland – we absolutely do as evidenced by this past week as well as that most amazing loop we cycled here three years ago – but it’s an expensive country to travel in and without the kindness and generosity of friends, one must be prepared to camp.  I am not prepared to camp.  Yes, I am hauling sleeping bags and a Thermarest, and Gina has had that two-person tent strapped to her rear rack for the past four weeks, but I’m not mentally prepared to use the stuff.  After 38 straight nights of camping in New Zealand, I prefer to give the tent, and myself, a rest.  Preferably a rest in a super cute guest house with a cozy down duvet.  In Switzerland, that will cost you a bar of gold and a pound of cheese.  So as much as we’d like to stay, to the border we go!

Now the real irony of today’s story is that after 90 kilometers of pedaling we did finally make it to Germany and where did we end up?  A campground.  A campground where people pitch tents.  Do you think we pitched ours?  We did, but only into that nook in the wardrobe in our double bunk-bed room.  Isn’t camping great?