Organs for Breakfast

Wed 30.05 2012        Dannemarie – Basle  64.4kms

This morning has to be the highlight of our journey so far. We descended the stairs for our breakfast to the sound of music! Monsieur was playing a very up to the minute organ and very well too. For us though, it was the first time we had ever been serenaded at breakfast. Lots to eat, lots of coffee and the most genial host you could imagine and all for 37 Euros and that included the beer. If you ever find yourself in Dannemarie, which of itself is not without charm, it would be a sin to stay anywhere else.

It was impossible not to feel energised by this overnight stay and so we were once again, off to a flying start, somewhat hindered by visits to La Poste, the boulangerie and a card shop. Nonetheless, we were on our way by 09.45 and heading for Mulhouse with some trepidation (another big town). No need for all that angst; the signing through the town was faultless. Just when things are going well……………………all the signs disappeared – again! Mr. Master Navigator appeared from nowhere and made a valiant attempt. Scratching our heads at yet another unsigned junction, our rescuer appeared from a nearby driveway. We explained where we were trying to go and he directed us with a cheery gesticulation. Something, it seems, he has done many times before for the benefit of lost cyclists. Come on planners, sort it out! Back on route, (which it is unlikely we would have found unaided) I had to swallow my words on cheery folk in the morning; these we met this day were a grumpy bunch with just two responses from dozens of oncoming cyclists. Mind you, when you see that rictus smile on the face of the racing cyclist, you just know he has no reserves left for speech.

Having made the decision to stay just inside the French border before tackling Basle, we finally located the campsite after several false efforts. Our host, Mr. Must You Really Stay Here had missed the day of lectures on customer care but the site was clean with all the essential facilties. We shared our little enclave with a number of other touring veloists although they were all German speaking and my German vocabulary is a very stunted affair. A thunder storm threatens as we head for bed!