A fine day of easy, flat, stress-free paths and gravel roads. After a chill and foggy start, that is, alongside the mirror-grey waters of the Lech from my campsite into Landsberg centre.
But it earned me that great German start to a morning: Kaffee und Kuchen.
The cafe clientele consisted of half-a-dozen smart-casual mature types leafing through the newspapers, and one scruffy cycle-camper scoffing a pastry and evaluating his route on cycle.travel.
The D9 path conducted me along the Lech on excellent surfaces, accompanied sometimes by a steady trickle of e-bike tourists, other times by the gentle breeze and birdsong.
Motor vehicles were there none, except for the occasional tractor, generally preceded by the gentle waft of manure.
It was almost all smooth tarmac to Augsburg, my lunch target.
Most shops were closed, this being a Sunday in Germany, but a few bars and cheap eateries – generally Turkish-run – were open, and I snacked on a seven-euro doner box: a half-loaf-sized cardboard container stuffed with chips, meat shavings, salad and sauce.
Kebab quality in England may be, to put it politely, ‘variable’ – in other words, sometimes mediocre, sometimes awful – but in Germany I’ve always found it to be very good. Though there can be the odd crunchy bit of what I hope is fragments of animal bone, and not of my teeth.
I visited Augsburg a decade ago. Then I explored the world’s oldest social housing, the Fuggerei, dating from the 1520s, so I didn’t need to do it again. I did, however, stop off at the Mozart House, having seen the signs to it. Hang on, wasn’t Wolfgang born in Salzburg?
Aha: this Mozart birthplace is that of Leopold, his dad. Leo hasn’t judged kindly by history, seeing him as a middlingly talented musician and harsh father who hothoused his son into premature and gimmicky musical stardom in the courts of Germany and Austria. Whether despite or because of all this, Wolfgang turned out a pretty good composer.
Anyway, having found a cash machine (lots of places in Germany are still cash-only, I was finding) it was time to press on. After Augsburg it was a long but pleasant afternoon of flat gravel paths through woods in the sunshine. For a ‘riverside’ route, though, it didn’t give many views of actual river.
I got to my intended campsite at Donauwörth around four. It was a super place, with its own small lake, and a campers’ common room with a beer vending machine (50cl for €2.50). I chatted to a Dutch couple, fellow cycle tourists, and we watched a total eclipse of the moon over a drink or two.
All going well, until I made an unsettling discovery packing up at bedtime. I’ve (a) lost a glove somewhere today and (b) did not pack any socks. All I have in the way of hosiery is the pair I’m wearing.
Ah well; at least, as problems go, these are soluble. And it wasn’t as bad as my Ireland End to End in 2011. Then, I managed to forget not just socks, but also T-shirts and underpants. So on balance, still a very good day.
Miles today: 58
Miles from Füssen: 107