There was more than a whiff of excitement in the car, it felt almost like old times, setting off on a family holiday – except I'm sharing the back seat with Manda rather than Jules. We've not all been away together, apart from New Year and Japan, well you know what I mean, since we left England. Not that this is exactly a holiday of course, but we won't be riding every day, and I'm quite looking forward to trying skiing.

“Okay girls?” Mum enquired glancing back.
“Well I am,” Mand allowed, “Gab looks ready to pop.”
Dad chuckled.
“Huh!”
“We'll stop in a bit, I need a coffee even if no one else does,” Dad suggested.
“There will be snow won't there?”

I know not everyone likes snow and it can be a nuisance but it is a pre-requisite for skiing.

“There's plenty up the mountains,” Mum advised.
“I’m sure they'll save some for you Gab,” Mand suggested.

It's been a long drive, I'm glad we've got the new car and not Mum's A Klasse or the camper. At least there's room to stretch out a bit in here, so okay it’s not the top of the range version but it’s still pretty lux. It certainly turns heads, Saab's aren't that common in Germany, I can't believe Dad actually had to get it from the dealer in Maastricht.

After that stupidly early start, I mean, six o'clock Dad, we've got down country pretty well. There was a bit of traffic around Mainz but since then we've been in the outside lane going somewhat faster than Dad usually drives. I guess it’s the new car thing.

“How much further is it?” I asked as we waited for our lunch.
“We should be at the hotel by four,” Dad suggested.
“Don't forget we need a motorway tag,” Mum mentioned.
“What's that?” Mand asked.
“You have to pay to use the Austrian motorways,” Dad told us.
“What a swizz,” I suggested.
“It’s the same in Switzerland and remember all those peage going down to Spain?”
“Ooh, that looks good,” Mum opined as the waitress arrived with our Gulasch soup.

Instead of the motorway services we've stopped at some place called Offenburg, on the edge of the Schwarzwald. From here we cross the forest then drop-down past Bodensee to Austria, apparently its more direct than going via Stuttgart – well that’s what Dad says. We get to use lots of service areas going to races and one thing they aren't is particularly restful, a small town bakery is much better – and the loos are free!

The one disadvantage, sort of, coming this way is the lack of autobahn, after our lunch stop there was a short bit dual carriageway before it reduced to a fairly busy two-lane road. The hills became more wooded as we climbed steadily up the Kinzigtal, bypassing all the villages before the new road ended at Haslach.

Manda was engrossed in her book and to be honest, once you've seen one tree – well you get the idea. I recognised a couple of names on road signs, Freudenstadt – we've raced there and Freiburg which is sort of the de facto capital of the region, I think Jules looked at going to the university there. Things did start to get a bit more interesting when we started to climb a bit more obviously, the Hymer would've been crawling on some of this!

“Mand,” I enthused nudging her arm, “Big enough for you?”
“Eh?”
“You want to stop?” Mum asked.

Dad was already slowing and a minute later I was scrambling out into the coolness to gape at what was being billed as the biggest cuckoo clock in the world.

“Really?” Mand queried.
“You must've heard of this place, its well famous.”
“It’s not that big.”

I guess it depends on your point of view, it’s actually a full-on building, big for a clock but not exceptional for a building, even a timber one.

“Can you take a picture Dad?”
“Let’s have your camera then,” he sighed.

I grabbed Mand and we mugged for the picture taker.

“We got time for a look inside?”
“I guess so, but no buying clocks.”

Triberg, where we are, is the heart of the Black Forest Cuckoo clock industry, the result of idle hands in the winter months. These days of course it’s all about the tourists, why else would you build a house sized clock. Inside the shop, which fills the lower floor of the building, its literally wall to wall kitsch, big clocks, small clocks, all noisily ticking and with one thing in common, they're all Cuckoo clocks.

Nana Bond has got a small one in her kitchen but it’s nothing like these. I'm not sure I'm really a fan but some of the clocks are incredible, not just Cuckoos but little figures that come out, all sorts of pendulums, amazing stuff. Of course, they have prices to match, three, four, five hundred Euros – even if I wanted one, I'm not spending that much!

We crossed the Donau / Rhein watershed and the vista opened up somewhat as we started the descent to Villingen. After all the climbing, the drop seemed to whizz by and after navigating the town we soon picked up faster roads, bypassing Donaueshingen on the quiet autobahn towards the shores of Bodensee. It wasn't long before we caught our first views of the huge lake and beyond, the snow-capped peaks of the Alps.

Once again, the road reverted to two lane as we followed the eastern coast south, of course we studied this area in geography quite extensively. Even today, in early December, the sun was glinting off the water, sailing boats dotting the surface. There was a bit of a bottleneck at Friedrichshafen but once away from the town we made good progress to the motorway down into Austria.

The mountains ahead certainly had a lot of white on their shoulders, I was so engrossed I was taken unawares when we pulled off into what looked like a large car park.

“I shouldn't be long,” Dad advised as he opened his door.
“What've we stopped for?” I asked Mum as Pater crossed the tarmac.
“Dur, weren't you listening,” Mand put in, “The motorway thing.”
“The Vignette,” Mum confirmed.
“So, are we near Austria then?”
“The border's just ahead, we're probably about half an hour from the hotel.”
“Cool!” I enthused.
“The others should be there already,” Mum told us.

Just glad we didn't set off as early as them, mind you they had to pick up Gret and Tali from Stuttgart airport on the way down. Dad returned and handed Mum the vignette thing to stick in the window.

“Okay, next stop the hotel,” he mentioned pulling his seatbelt into place.

It was a bit of a strange entry into Germany's southern neighbour, no sooner were we across the border than the motorway entered a tunnel, nearly six kilometres of subterranean driving. We popped out into the flatness of the Rheintal, each side hemmed by seemingly vertical rock walls, snow draping the upper edges.

“That's Switzerland over there,” Dad pointed to the right.
“Doesn't look any different to Austria from here,” Mand observed.
“The border is political not geological, there were people living here long before the Swiss Confederation or Austria existed,” Mum lectured – well she was a geography teacher.

We turned off the motorway and joined the local road system, within a couple more minutes we were at the Hotel Weisses Kreuz. As predicted the team bus and truck were already parked outside, George's car hidden behind. My excitement levels were high, its ages since I’ve seen most of the girls on the Apollinaris roster, not everyone is here, Maria has decided to retire and the lads aren't here either.

Somehow it feels weird, we aren't here for a race, there's no pressure to perform although no doubt it will get a bit competitive.

“Ah, Bonds!” the Big Boss greeted us.
“George,” Dad returned.
“Good trip down?”
“Pretty quiet, you?”
“You know, Stuttgart is always busy, the Hamburg flight was a bit late but we're here now eh? Let’s get you settled, we'll talk over dinner.”
“Where's everyone else?” I queried as we made our way inside the hotel.
“There was talk of going into the town, they have a Weihnachtsmarkt I think.”
“You'd best give Roni a call,” Mum suggested.
“Yes! Come on Mand,” I excitedly told my friend.
“You might need your room key,” Dad observed.

I hardly recognised Roni when we emerged from the subway into Feldkirch old town, the slightly chubby face teen replaced by a more svelte and confident young woman. Don't get me wrong, she was never what you might call fat – despite her mums’ culinary skills, but the new Roni has lost the puppy fat.

“You're looking well,” I opined exchanging a hug.
“Mum says I look thin, hi Mand.”
“Ron.”
“So, where're the others?” I queried.
“Round at the market, come on, you have got to try the apple fritters.”

It’s not a big place, it was only a couple of minutes later before we were greeting the rest of Team Apollinaris who were holding court at the tables outside a cafe restaurant under the covered walkways flanking the market. I guess a big part of this trip is about fostering team spirit, everyone seemed upbeat and happy to be here. I say everyone, there was a girl sat at the back, sort of smiling, not someone I know, maybe she’s just a local having a coffee amused by our antics.

“You haven't met Maria's replacement yet have you?” Tina mentioned.
“I only found out she was stopping last week.”
“It’s been on the cards all year,” Kat put in.
“Come on, I'll introduce you,” Tina stated.

A moment later we were stood by the mystery girl.

“Katy, meet Gaby Bond, Jen's daughter, Gab, Katy van Oerts.”
“Er nice to meet you,” I offered a hand to shake.
“And you, I haf heard so much, sorry my German is not so good.”
“Dutch?” I suggested.
“Belgian, from De Panne on the coast.”
“This is a bit of a change then.”
“Not so much, I was racing in Italia for two years.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” Tina suggested.
I pulled out a chair and sat, “I did a training camp in Italy once.”
“You like?”
“Well the pasta's good.”
“So, you ski?”
“We went to a dry slope from school once, you?”
“From a small girl.”

Ching, ching, ching! George got everyone’s attention in time honoured fashion with a fork and wine glass.

“Good evening people, welcome to Austria. So, we've got a full programme for you this week, hopefully you'll all enjoy it, learn new skills, gel as a team. Just a few ground rules, you are representing the team so try to behave yourselves.”
“When do we ever not?” Erika called out.
“Antwerp?” George suggested somewhat archly.
“Except Antwerp,” Erika allowed slightly sheepishly.

I wonder what happened in Antwerp? Have to ask Roni.

“You all know the rules on team apparel, Kat has been to fetch the ski gear this afternoon, she'll be in the Stube after dinner.”

I know Dad said something about ski gear but this sounds interesting.

“Now tomorrow, the forecast looks good so we'll do a steady ride, around a hundred kilometres, Dave and Mike will have the bikes ready for a nine o'clock start. The afternoon we'll be to the schwimbad along in Rankweil. Questions?”
“What time is breakfast?” Anja asked.

Look, we're bike riders, eating's important, especially if we're doing a long bike session, a steady hundred could be four hours or more.

Seems that the team have stumped up for some proper ski gear for us, salopettes in team blue with cream jackets, boots and so on we'll be hiring on the day from what Kat was saying. I might not be an expert with winter sports but even I recognised the Mammut® brand name, I’ve seen some of their serious outdoor kit at that Globetrotter place in Koln. Mum's already kitted me and Mand out with thermals and stuff, I can't wait to hit the slopes.

It was pretty crisp as we gathered in front of the hotel, a flock of ten women chattering and preparing their steeds for the ride ahead. Somehow it felt a bit strange seeing everyone in winter riding gear, thermal tights, jackets, full fingered gloves, over shoes – you get the idea.

“Jenny?” George called out, “You know the route?”
“We'll work it out George, see you later.”

 
© Maddy Bell 14.03.2019