julius rensch

Introducing "The Port Side" cycling abroad...enjoy18 JANUARY, 2020 BY VOYAGESONTHELEFT

Oder-Neisse-Denmark Ride

Monuments to Soviet Red Army sacrifices in the Second World War, a stunning model socialist town, endless river vistas, helpful village doctors, the Danish Archipelago, and free accommodation with country priests – these and more filled our long ride of August 2019.

This year, we had decided to ride from Zittau to Christiansfeld, a distance of about 1,000 kilometres. Since many will not know either of these places, a little more detail: Zittau is on the triple border point (Drieländereck) between eastern Germany, Poland and the Czech Republic; Christiansfeld is a village in southern Jutland (Demark). The route would initially take us in a northerly direction along the well-established Oder-Neisse River ride, which runs on the German side of the border with Poland. After a ferry crossing from Rostock to Gedser, we would ride for another week along the southern islands of Denmark, hopping from one island to the other by ferry.

The account that follows is in the form of a daily chronicle (to which I will from time to time).

Day 1: Christiansfeld to Zittau: 22 km

The classic ‘positioning’ ride, on which we tested once again the positions of our seats, the functioning of brakes and – of course – became used to riding with a load. The distances were not great: 17 kilometres to the railway station at Kolding, and then about 8 kilometres from the station in Zittau to our ‘Bett und Bike’ accommodation just out of Zittau.

After much travelling on the German rail system, we find that we prefer the ‘regional’ tickets. For a modest flat rate, you can travel all over Germany on regional trains, without need to make reservations. And there is always room for bicycles, although sometimes you need to be deftly agile to ensure a bike space. The rail journey itself took about 12 hours, with a welcome return to the familiar East German countryside.

Landgasthof Drausendorf turned out to be a favoured getaway spot for bikies. A quiet spot with sweeping views of the industrial park chimneys across the Polish border, it clearly gave them a chance to go somewhere to have to themselves. The managers did not live on site, but a short drive away, so we had to phone on arrival (near dusk) and wait a few minutes. A man turned up in an old car and we chatted for a bit, with him telling us that the bikies preferred the weekends, so there were none today.

Day 2: Zittau to Rothenburg: 68 km

We rode further today than we had initially planned, especially on the first full day of riding together again. But we were running along the river mostly, through deep green forests, through old mill towns that thrived when the water-mill provided the main source of power, and the rather extraordinary Marienthal Kloster. Through the middle ages it had, of course, been not merely a kloster but also a safe resting point for weary travellers en route.



We were not so weary yet, for we were recalling a ride in these parts some years earlier. It had been a three-day circuit from town of Herrnhut, established by the Herrnhuter Brüdergemeinde (Moravian Brethren) back in the early 1700s. Then, we had ridden to Zittau and stayed in Poland, pedalled along the river in these parts to Görlitz, and then a final day in wind and rain back to Herrnhut. So the path to Görlitz we knew at least somewhat. North of there was new.

By now, we were increasingly aware of the border poles. On the German side (where we rode) were the yellow-red-black poles, which we were matched – at exact intervals – by red-and-white poles on the Polish side. These would be the first few of thousands along the ride, and one gained a distinct impression that one or other side had set out to match exactly the number and location on the other side. Who knows who started it first? It may have been the Germans, since they had ‘lost’ territory in the settlements after the Second World War. ‘No further’, the yellow-red-black poles seemed to say. Then again, it may have been the Poles, since this was new ground for then, further west than they had known for some time (although eastern territory had been handed to Belarus). ‘Here we are, it’s ours’, the red-and-white poles seemed to say. Of course, some three decades, relations between the Poles and East Germans were friendlier, given that they were both socialist states.

One can ponder such matters for a while, but not too long. Soon weary legs begin to demand a stop. Our preferred approach – from earlier practice – is to begin looking for somewhere to stay an hour or so before arrival. Inevitably, this entails calling a few places by phone (the Germans are not fans of anything remotely related to apps and websites), riding past to see, and then settling on a place.

This one happened to be Gasthof zur Neisse Aue, a treasure this early in the ride. We were a little early, so we were able to sit outside, check the bikes over, sip a beer and await dinner. As is my wont, I ordered my favoured Bauernfrüstück, a farmer’s break full of eggs, potatoes, onions and often gherkins on the side. German eateries serve this dish all day and I order when I can. What she ordered, I do not recall any longer, but she loved the place.

cb400bill

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