triple agito

Back in and around London now, enough to notice that all of the Olympic logos have been removed from the roads and signs.

The other broader logos and signs for the Paralympics are still in place as well as appearance of the different logo for the next set of events. As I passed under Tower Bridge I spotted the new logo in place being made ready to be lowered into view.

I understand that Paralympics is a separate series of events and has its own identity, but it did seem slightly strange to have so much additional work to switch everything over, rather than perhaps having an amalgam for the two events.

It must have taken quite a team to wipe out all the olympic lanes and the embedded logos more or less overnight, ahead of the different preparations for the next set of Games.

More later, but after I've figured out why (a) the water upstairs isn't flowing from the cold taps (airlock?) and (b) whether I need to replace the hard drive on the iMac which has suddenly developed the click of death and refuses to operate.

bubbly and homeward bound

Back to the UK today, via the Ferry from Calais. We decided to take a somewhat meandering route from Épernay, rather than just hitting the A26. I'd already adjusted the seats in the back of the car, which gave us some extra space for - er - Épernay produce.

We did actually visit a couple of the champagne houses, Mercier and Castellane. They both do good tours of their caves but the feeling is quite different in each of them. Mercier is multilingual with a video show and laser guided train around the 18 km of underground tunnels where the champagne is stored. There's also a focus on the early marketing of Mercier through to the huge barrel hauled by 24 oxen from Épernay to Paris for the World Exposition. We were told that Mercier is the most consumed champagne in France.

The nearby Castellane tour is French language only and the visit through the caves and factory is on foot. It shows the whole process, from initial fermentation of the grapes, right through to the labelling and packaging of the finished product.

The two adjacent visits together build a complementary picture of the creation of champagne and also of the sheer scale of the underground caves where the bottles are stored at a consistent 10 degrees C, some 30 metres below the ground.

There's dozens of champagne houses in Épernay and many of the hillsides are covered in the vines of the three main grape types of Pinot noir, Chardonnay and Pinot Meunier.

So what could we do other than use some of the newly formed space in the back of the car to convey some of the local produce?

those flying saucers are called macarons

And onward to Champagne country. Eperney right now, staying in a converted brickworks. Actually, it's one of the places that we try to visit if we are in this neck of the woods.

The last time we actually stayed here was when I was picking up my car from the place where it was made and I drove it home on it's temporary foreign number plates.

We had decided to make a weekend of it and stayed in Champagne country whilst thinking of a use for the boot of the car.

At the time, we drank the bottle of bubbly that was in the mini-bar and took the bottle home. It had a sketch of the hotel and convenient address information that has subtly reminded us from its window-sill position in the kitchen.

When we looked in the mini-bar this time, the champagne was there, but it wasn't specific to the hotel. Words will be spoken.

But I mustn't be too critical, after all, the goodies in the room included a pretty wide selection of petit-fours, chocolate champagne corks and those yummy flying saucer shaped things.

Still, I have a sneaking suspicion that there may be a visit to a cave somewhere in today's plans.

Pausing awhile in Strasbourg

After Böblingen, we decided to set the controls for another old haunt of Tübingen before eventually heading back towards France. This had the extra benefit of a further chance to meander along the Black Forest High Road which twists and turns its way through a skyline of woodlands before descending towards France.

Our overnight objective was Strasbourg, and to stay in le Petite France, although exceptional navigational skills are required to get into the area around the various traffic restrictions.

Mission accomplished, we joined the throngs of visitors on foot, winding through the Rhineland half-timbered medieval centre of the town, complete with its twists, bridges and canals. Its a real crossroads of cultures that stretch back to Roman times and has its share of violent past across the centuries.

Tomorrow we plan for flammekueche before leaving the area.

time for a frech

Well the plan to get to Böblingen worked, although the Autobahn from Munich to Stuttgart is one long set of roadworks.

I remember the estimate was always that it would take two hours for that part of the journey, although the sheer number of chicanes and holdups as well as a lorry that had shed a tyre added a significant amount of time to the trip.

We'd allowed for time for it though whilst we were still back in Austria, and had visited the Schwarzsee where we'd paused for a rather lovely iced coffee before starting the journey.

We'd also headed off through a valley between the mountains instead of following the main Autobahn route. It added some time but meant that we had good scenery until we were eventually forced onto the A8 with all its roadworks.

But what can you do when you arrive? Head for Cafe Frech of course and enjoy a slice of cake and a coffee.

nicht hinausbeugen

We decided to use some other forms of transport on Thursday, based upon the splashes of rain and more limited visibility.

After a navigation across to the other side of the town to the train station, we caught a gleaming express to another small place, which seemed busy with steam locomotives to transport people to various summits.

The rain was lashing down at this point but we took a gamble to catch one of these small trains go in any case, where this time there would be a lake at the summit, and perhaps a boat.

Naturally the trains ran to time as did the connection to our boat, which glided around the lake as we watched the weather slowly change.

Later, on our return trip, we improvised catching a Munich to Vienna train and I was reminded of earlier Inter-rail journeys, with, in this case, others with big backpacks taking up all of the space in the compartments.

Amusingly, we discovered another station in our town. It was right outside our hotel. I'm still not quite sure how we missed it on the outward journey.

a quick view from the Hahnenkamm

Yesterday evening we headed into the town where many of the townsfolk were dressed in the traditional tract and dirndl of the area. It soon became apparent that there was a festival, complete with a Volksband and Schuhplattler.

Unexpected, and great fun to be there.

Today included a trip up the Hahnenkamm but this time under power instead of by foot. My legs took a little while to recover from the Swiss mountain a few days ago.

As it happened, there was a mountain bike race on the side of this one, and of course it was 'up' the mountain rather than down.

I arrived at the top to see various bikes parked against the edge and the start of the awards ceremony in a suitable cafe.

There's sensational views from this area. I could see across to the Wilder Kaiser, to Matterhorn and also right across to Grossglockner.

And the inspirational view soon made me forget my legs were supposed to be aching, as I headed away from the busiest area to just drink in the view.

my last 5 cents

Now we've moved from the Alps to the Tirol, complete with that slightly indeterminate border area where the towns are named in German, the street signs are in Italian, you've passed the Zollamt but it's still Switzerland for a couple more kilometres until suddenly there's an Austrian flag and a new set of traffic speed reminders.

I refuelled in Switzerland to squeeze the value from the last of the Swiss coins getting a solitary SFr5 cent coin in return for my planning.

the Almdudler of Austria beckons

I don't think Almdudler is very well known outside of Austria, but it's always on my list of things to drink when in the country.

Indeed, this time I am under instruction to bring some back to the UK.

I am not sure if it will last.

running up that hill walking down that mountain

We crossed the border into Switzerland and I got one of those vignette things for the car so we can travel on the motorways. The backup of traffic at the Swiss border created the comedy moment of two or three major roads system narrowing to a single lane and then a right turn to a single track road to get into the country.

Today we headed for the mountains and I've got aching legs this evening to prove it. The particular mountain in question is the Weissfluhjoch at 2,693 metres high with beautiful views across various valleys and across to other peaks.

The efficiently placed signs indicated it was a 2.5 hour ascent from the valley to the peak.

I think this timing must have been for proper alpine types because my sunny descent took more than three hours, plus or minus a couple of breaks to sit and soak in the scenery.

Highly enjoyable and my boots still have that patina of mountain dust.

the pictures in the sky

Still in the Black Forest, for a day of wandering in a pretty and unstructured way. A case of putting on the walking boots and striking out to find an interesting path.

It didn't take long to be out in the fields and then amongst the trees, with a glimpse of another town with its prominent Dom in the distance.

Time for a look in and a cup of coffee before working out a different and circuitous route back to base via a couple of huts along the trail.

a few idle moments

I've been enjoying tranquil moments in France at the small location in the picture. I walked past the source of the River Marne to get the snapshot. The water really is blue at the source.

Now we've moved on to the Black Forest area of Germany. I even celebrated with a Schwarzwälderkirschtorte at a beautiful and entirely random Gasthof somewhere on the twisty roads. The mountain of Schlagsahne piled on the cake may not be entirely compatible with my bike riding (460 miles last month), but it had to be done.

We are currently adopting a fairly unplanned traversal of some of the hilly bits of central Europe. We’ll probably go as far as Austria and I do want to head back through my one-time home town of Böblingen, in Baden-Württemberg, southern Germany. I’ll probably have another BFG there, at Cafe Frech, which is next door to my old apartment on Stuttgarter Straße.

My work life is usually quite structured with meetings and schedules so it’s good fun to drift off in an uncertain and idle way. Last year we were in the deserts of Arizona and the year before we were along part of the east coast of the USA heading up to close to the Canadian border, so it’s about time to give Europe another road-trip spin.

But the idea of the Idler is a tricky one to balance. I know professionally I'm required to be a 'results and outcome' sort of person, so the 'slow down and find the dreams' part requires an interesting gear shift.

As tonight's sun sets, I'm on the balcony of a new room in a fresh location. A nearby clock is striking the hour, a crow caws from a nearby tree.

Life is good and I feel ever so slightly idle.