Day 10 - Strasbourg to Basel

After eating a few kilos of pasta, I set out from northern Strasbourg between eight and nine. The morning was cold and a heavy mist limited visibility to roughly 800 metres. Along the way, many people had stressed that the winter was unusually long and that I was unlucky to be cycling through such cold. These sentiments were of little comfort to me as the sun remained behind a dull shroud of cloud for the first four hours of my day.


The cold seemed to sap the energy out of my legs and for the first time I was aware of a slight but perpetual incline as the Rhine began to rise. These factors together killed any momentum and I was left working hard to achieve a relatively low pace for much of the day. Again, the riverside cycle paths were impassable due to the snow and as a result I was limited to the long, straight and tedious B roads which stretched out for miles through snowy, indifferent woodland. In the unremarkable landscape I was left with my cycle computer for entertainment and the day consisted of several hours of ignoring the digital screen for as long as I could bear before looking down to see exactly how far I hadn’t cycled.

This was a mental challenge and in order to pass the time I disciplined myself into fixing my eyes on the end of every straight road until I reached its end, which could be six or seven miles away. This routine was marginally less strenuous than constantly being reminded of my slower than average pace and it took me through most of the morning.

Around one o’clock the sun broke suddenly through the clouds and started to clear the mist and melt the snow in the woods and fields. There was no town anywhere near my planned lunch stop of 50 miles so I settled down to a meal of Haribo and sugared water at the side of the road. Following ‘lunch’ the slight incline of the morning became more substantial and though I felt physically well my speed was limited by the slope. The spritely current of an irrigation ditch running parallel to the road and opposite to my progress provided a constant indication of the gradual increase of the slope.

Despite the frustrating low speed I kept up a good work rate and was heartened to see the first Swiss flag flying from the stern of a large steamer after about sixty miles. This gave me a little juice to get through to Kembs, which lay just ten miles from my final destination.

Passing through Kembs in good time I made my final stop of the day on a rural back road and attempted to share my final snack, a Satsuma, with a gathering of horses. They took up my offer with some hesitation, preferring to knock the segments from my open hand to the ground before inspecting them very carefully. At length they picked up the segments with their prehensile lips and I was able to take a few photos while they were so distracted.

After a short ride over a barely announced border I arrived at Rumelinsplatz and the Nelson, a pub where the chef Hans took me in, fed me and even organised a generous whip for the Cystic Fibrosis Trust among his fellow Schalke 04 fans before Ken, my sister’s fiancee’s brother came to meet me later.

I will spend the weekend in Ken’s company resting up before taking on Switzerland and the Alps next week.

Distance covered 85 miles