Vienna Verboten

the Danube

I've been looking at lots of maps since I got to Vienna yesterday. In the end I took a long-cut from Prague heading straight South on the Vltava, then Straight East on the Danube, instead of South East without any river. It added a couple of days but it is good to follow water; rivers are also going somewhere, coming from somewhere. And you can wash socks in them. The Danube goes all the way to the Black Sea and I have a decision to make. A cycle route follows its banks through Germany, Austria, Slovakia, Hungary, Serbia, Romania and Bulgaria. I picked up the path in Linz shortly after entering Austria, and for two days to Vienna I averaged almost 15 miles an hour. For those unaccustomed to loaded cycle touring, that's fast. Really it's a highway; fast, flat, signposted, easy. Slovenia, and Croatia have more or less opposite qualities. I could be in Istanbul in a month and a half, or I could spend indeterminate weeks struggling lost up sweaty hills with no obvious route beyond the Croatian coast. But I'm in no special hurry... I think the decision is made. 

the Vltava

Perhaps its just my ignorance in history but national borders always seem arbitrary to me. Nonetheless, the border between the Czech Republic and Austria pretended in every respect to mark a genuine distinction. Over a couple of kilometres the tarmac improved several grades,  the peoples' skin tone lightened several shades, the tractors became Audis and the farmyards vineyards. They'd even infused the breeze with marzipan and quince to mask the familiar base notes of horseshit and oilseed rape. But despite all this, the cooler air and now mountains looming afar, the most noticeable thing for me was the reappearance of my favourite German word on the signage - verboten. A different country altogether from anything-goes Czech where I happily camped in building sites and was right at home drinking tinned beer on the road from my bottle holders. Austria is genteel; expensively functional but a bit repressed. In Wachau province along the Danube every village is covered in roses, surrounded by vineyards and framed by castle ruins atop a scenic crag. And each is nicer than the one before until it becomes almost too much to bear. I struggled to find places to camp feeling I had to hide away from the healthy families out walking, the sturdy, milk-drinking children out practising sports everywhere. It is not the easiest place for tramping and wild camping; shitting in the woods doesn't feel right in Austria (and for sure it is verboten).

4 o'clock jobs in the Czech Republic

one of the castles on one of the crags

For now it feels good to stop in Vienna. I'm staying with an old friend Anna, who I met in almost another life on a beach in Thailand 8 years ago. She surprised me with strawberries and third trimester pregnancy. It's been good to rest up, catching up. So today I've seen some of the sights and all of the cafes in Vienna. History and art are everywhere again. I liked a plastercast olive tree in a white building amidst a rose garden, and the big, bright plastic couches scattered around the trendy areas. I went shopping - black paint for where my panniers chafe their racks and a tough new back tire. Tomorrow I'll go looking for a little aluminium hob-top espresso pot and since my flipflops failed in Prague I've an idea to swallow my pride and pick up a pair of Crocs. I understand they vent well, and might be just the job for evenings around the tent.... It is good to keep on top of my scant domestics.

Austria

leaving Czech