Fame has, after long last, illuminated me in the dusky twilight of the unknown, following my appearance in that world-renowned publication, the Hull & East Riding Mail. To celebrate, I’ve had a couple of leisurely days of sitting outside cafes in the sunshine and drinking beer and coffee (though not usually at the same time), in the beautiful medieval French city of Strasbourg.
The further east I travelled for the last few days, the more Germanic the names of the villages and the architecture became, and after a while even the accents changed. I stopped in one small village on Friday to douse my head in a fountain, when a man with very little hair on his head, and even fewer teeth in his mouth, began talking in what sounded, to my ears, like German. I knew I must be close.
It took the combined remains of my ration of Kendal Mint Cake to get me up the final few hills, and before I knew it I was flying down the other side at 40mph (motorists may be unaware of how much fun 40mph can be on a bicycle!) down wide switchbacks, surrounded by a blur of tall trees, and into the Rhine valley.
I push on across the German border tomorrow morning, where I plan to head to the heart of the Black Forest, in search of the source of the mighty River Danube!