Gaby Book 27 Smell of the Crowd by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2022 Madeline Bell Life has some certainties, birth and death of course, but the rest is a mix of Minestrone and Spaghetti, some of which we have no direct influence over. We can however decide whether we want Parmesan or other seasoning, we can give Gnochi a try, doesn't mean we'll like it but at least we'll know. Gaby has reached just such a point in her life, she knows she likes Pizza, she's not averse to Spaghetti or Lasagne but is Gnochi for her? The Gnochi in this case is doing the singing with BlauHase on a more serious level, as a 'hobby' its fine but could this be a change of career? Well you don't find out without trying so that's just what our heroine is about to find out in this, the 27th book of the Gaby saga.

 
"You know where you are going?” Animal asked for maybe the third time this morning.

To be honest it was getting on my nerves.

"Down to the ferry, across to Groß Gerau then its almost straight to Aschaffenburg, we’re staying at the Aschaffenburger Hof which is at the bottom of the main shopping street,” I repeated again, "If I get lost I can ask someone or call you up.”
"You’ve got your Handy?”
"I’ve got my Handy,” I assured him, he’s worse than Dad.
"Be careful out there.”
"I will,” I called back as I pushed off into the street, pausing only for a moment to clip in, "Byeee, laters!”
 

I’m glad that I asked in reception how to get to the river, I would’ve headed into the city towards where we played last night. Instead I was going the opposite direction, turning into Goethestraße after a few hundred metres, under the railway beyond which the road became a wide avenue. Okay there was a bit of traffic about but at the Rheinallee I hopped onto the cycle path and I was soon speeding along the west bank of the Rhein having completely bypassed the city centre.

Its not the prettiest bit of river but the signed bike route zaps you along far from the traffic, only the occasional dog walker or utility rider requiring your attention. I settled down to a less frenetic pace, well just below thirty klicks and with my need to navigate almost nil for a bit at least, I let my mind drift.

So I wonder exactly what Herr Binder has in mind for Saturday night, you know, for me to wear for the gig? Maybe Mist’s sort of Gothy grunge thing does suit the BlauHase image rather more than my safer punked up Stevie Nicks impersonation. I wouldn’t of chosen those trousers I wore last night myself but thinking about it, they were rather cool.

Maybe its a cyclist fetish thing, I mean we wear skin tight lycra pretty much all the time and shiny is good too so maybe its not such a leap to wearing equally tight PVC or I guess leather or whatever. Is that weird? Possibly but I’ll not apologise for it.

The path veered from the river, diving between a cement works and railway sidings before sliding under the autobahn, scene of yesterdays tragic accident. My thoughts wandered to the members of Zipfer facing today with a new reality. I hope that our performance last night, well the money at least, is appreciated, I know we’ve never met but we had to do something.

I was so caught in my thoughts that I nearly missed the sign pointing back towards Old Father Rhein, okay I did overshoot the turn but a quick loop in the road and I was back on course. The next ten K were pleasant enough, I crossed a couple loaded up with pannier bags and the kitchen sink heading north, can’t say that it appeals to me particularly but plenty of people seem to enjoy trekking along the river. It does mean that the routes get maintained which I’m grateful for and signed, I skidded to a halt to decipher the next finger post.

It didn’t seem logical, to not follow the path along the river but I guess the post people know what they’re doing so I turned through the bridge and up onto another track apparently sandwiched between the main road and the railway lines. I was doubly glad when it greeted a road, logic said go left but the signs directed me over a level crossing to the right before joining a lane on the other side of the tracks.

My computer reckoned I’d done a bit over twenty kilometres which should mean I’m not far from the ferry. The weather was holding fair and I just let the legs do their thing, a return to actual roads heralded the approach to Nierstein where the trail was reacquainted with the river. One of those double barge things was chugging upstream but I was going much quicker on land, quickly leaving it behind.

The road veered away inland and a minute later I was at the ferry ramp. There appeared to be just one ferry running which at present was loading at the far bank, I checked the time, five past eleven. Well that's good, an hour to here, at this rate I should be in Bavaria around two.
 

I took the opportunity of my enforced halt to make short work of the banana I filched from the breakfast buffet, I’ve got a couple of energy bars in my pocket but I should be good for a few kilometres yet. The river is ‘only’ about two hundred metres wide just here, its wider both up and downstream but that also means its a strong current on this stretch, a fact that delayed the Fähre a bit longer as the double barge I passed a few minutes ago laboured across its path.

Eventually the Rheinfähre Landskrone’s ‘Trier’ arrived at the slip and a tangle of bikes, pedestrians and Mofas headed down the ramp ahead of the half a dozen cars and vans that made the crossing. I might have been the first in the queue but by the time the deckhand waved me forward a swarm of foot passengers had appeared and there was a truck and several cars waiting to cross.

I quite regularly use the ferries on ‘my’ bit of the Rhein, particularly the Linz – Kripp crossing and this was a bit more basic than I’m used to. At least those have some shelter from the elements, the Trier doesn’t and I couldn’t see a lav either, guess I’ll have to look for a supermarket with one along the road.

"One way?” the conductor enquired as a late comer rushed up the ramp with a clang.
"Er yeah, please.”
"Two twenty.”

I scrounged through my purse for the change, I do not want to break a ten and end up lumping a load of Kleingeld around all day. One eighty, yep two twenty.

"There we go.”
"Danke, going far?”
"Not really, just Aschaffenburg.”
"Just? That’s sixty kilometres, you’ll tell me next you’ve come from Wiesbaden.”
"Well Mainz,” I admitted.
"Gerau is far enough for me, have a good day,” he admitted passing me my ticket.
"Thanks.”
"Only Aschaff, she says,” he muttered as he moved on to collect more fares.

Don’t see what the problem is, if its sixty K though I might be a bit out on my timing.
 

Away from the river as my route took on a sort of north easterly tilt, there was a light headwind, not enough to be too troubling but a niggle nevertheless. On the plus side the sun was warming me nicely and the biggest climb of the day was still the ramp off the ferry! My bladder was intimating I needed to stop sooner rather than later, I was almost through Geinsheim, the first village I’d come to before I spotted the Edeka hidden a few metres along a side street.

Its been my experience that Edeka stores are a bit hit and miss, unlike Lidl or Aldi they are essentially franchise operations like Maccy D’s so you get a bakery here but not there, maybe household goods at one but better meat counter down the road. This one at least incorporates a proper bakery so that’s where I headed.

"Haben sie eine toiletten bitte,” I requested doing the bladder sidestep.
“Zu den links,” the assistant advised with some disdain.
"Danke!” I ran as fast as my cleats and the tiled floor would allow.

Clearly at the Kabin we don’t get this, there are public toilets across at the bahnhof but I guess it gets pretty annoying if every Hans, Fritz and Gaby use your facilities and don’t purchase anything. I hadn’t intended stopping, at least not this early on but the smell of fresh coffee drew me back to the counter and a Vanillepudding then made eat me noises.

"White coffee please,” I requested.

The woman’s demeanour had softened when I returned to the counter having seen to the necessary.

"Cup or mug?”
"Mug please.”
"Anything else?”

That pudding was looking tempting but so were the sandwiches, I guess I could call it lunch. its heading towards twelve after all.

"Can I get a tomato mozzarella and a Vanillepudding please.”
"Eating here?”
Good question, "Sandwich now, I’ll take the pastry with me thanks.”
"That’s seven ninety then.”

Well I guess I get to break that ten note after all!

The seating wasn’t extensive but I found a table by the window so I could see my bike, I wouldn’t leave it unlocked in Ahrweiler but this is the middle of nowhere and also, I’ve not got a lock with me. By the time I was ready to leave I was feeling quite chilled, yesterday, last night in particular was quite stressful, the schnapps might’ve allowed me a solid night’s slumber but today’s ride is letting me relax, destress, whatever you want to call it.
 

The problem with stopping when you are out for a ride is the getting going again afterwards, which gets harder the longer the stop. It might be nice to relax for an hour but getting everything going again is a pain, Mum reckons the compromise is about thirty minutes, long enough you aren’t rushing but short enough that your body is still in vaguely ride mode. Well my stop at Geinsheim was thirty five, yeah it took me until I crossed the Groß Gerau Ring before I was firing on all cylinders again.

From here I really do need to concentrate on the navigation, in a car you’d probably drop down to Darmstadt or go up to Morfelden and across but on a bike it makes more sense to go more directly east using the lanes and byways, Messel, Eppertshausen, Babenhausen and on to the Maintal. I easily found my way to the bahnhof where I pulled out my route notes and sketch map.

It looked simple when I looked at the road atlas earlier but my makeshift cartography had me doubting my choice. Well the first bit was easy, I’d already seen a sign for Klein Gerau and Worfelden, both on my plan so I kicked off again, what's the worst that can happen? The lane that the bike route finger suggested I use didn’t look too promising, short stretches of bike path, level crossings and clearly a lot of industry.

It got better when it joined what looked like a better road – well until the surface took on a corrugated effect. Klein Gerau is a sort of seventies new build but the bike route spared me most of that, instead taking me out to a lane across the fields, Worfelden apparently just two K further on. It didn’t take long to do that and I pulled out my crib sheet to check the next leg out.

Gräfenhausen was next and surprise, surprise it was actually on the road sign in front of me. Four kilometres, looked further this morning I’m sure, anyhow I had to go on to Wixhausen further along the same road, I got going again and cranked my effort up for a few minutes which felt pretty good. My road atlas showed the same road crossing the railway in Wixhausen then I’d drop into Fahrheilgen and onto Messel, simple enough.

Except the road didn’t cross the railway. Well the more main road turned to the left so I guess that's the right way, well its the way I went anyhow. The next corner was signed for Darmstadt so I’d made the right call or at least not a bad call.

When I reached the main road I thought that the bike track on the far side looked nicer than dicing with the quite heavy traffic on Route Three which is when I spotted a bike finger post. Messel six point five kilometres is what it said, the lane didn’t look brilliant but surely they wouldn’t send you this way if it wasn’t rideable? Hmm, should I? Shouldn’t I? Oh what the heck, I pushed off onto the packed dirt lane, I can always come back right?
 
I needn’t have worried, after about half a klick I came to a tarmacked lane which I was able to get back up to some decent speed along. It wasn’t long before this lane joined an even bigger road, okay, it was still a country lane but you could at least cross other traffic without stopping – not that I’d seen more than a couple of cars since leaving the Three. This road was straight, kilometres of Roman Road straight without barely any up or down either, the bad bit was the wind was now directly in my face.

There’s only one way to do this, I got down onto the drops, tucked myself in and went into old school time trial mode. There wasn’t a great deal to look at anyhow, scrubby woodland would be the best description I guess. On and on, I tracked a car coming towards me for pretty much five minutes before we passed each other, I was quite glad when some traffic crossing ahead suggested I was near the end of it.

I crossed over into Messel, following the road through a quite pleasant village to the sort of village centre. The next town to aim for, Eppertshausen, was signed at the junction so I continued straight through, the church clock showing ten past one. That was a bit worrying, seven kilometres to the next place but then how much further?

The open fields around Messel soon gave way to more structured woodland and whilst not quite as straight, the road was almost as featureless until it crossed an open heath. I wouldn’t call it scenic but it was at least not wall to wall trees. Of course, it couldn’t last I was soon riding through more featureless forest which ended abruptly at what I’m guessing is the Epperthausen Ring.

Under the main road then into an industrial area which if the computer is right must mean I’m almost in the town. Navigation became a whole lot easier at the next road joining, a short way further on and I was in the town centre staring at a road sign, Stockstadt/Main nineteen, Babenhausen ten. Stockstadt is only over the river from my destination so I’ve probably got another hour’s ride from here, phew!

There was a bench outside of the church that stands at the junction, the slightly squidged pastry in my pocket was calling for attention.
 
The distance along to Babenhausen was a bit more interesting to ride through if just as flat. Okay, there were a couple of longish straights but there were actual fields with stuff growing and bends, not many but enough to break up the monotony a bit. But it wasn’t to last, a quick transit of the town outskirts put me onto the Twenty Six, a road so straight and laden with traffic I couldn’t wait to get off of it.

But there was no escape, kilometre after kilometre, it went on and even when I reached Stockstadt after nearly ten kilometres there was no relief. It was another three kilometres before there was a viable alternative, I eagerly followed the finger post directing bikes to Aschaffenburg. I paused on the bridge over the Main for a selfie, I took one on the ferry earlier, I’ll send them to Mand and the gang later.

Off the bridge, down towards the river, I must’ve come through here on my last ride not that I recognise it at all. Now all I’ve got to do is find the Aschaffenburger Hof. There was a direction post with more destinations than you’d think possible, Bahnhof, Centrum, Pompejanum, Kap. Kirche, Schloss Johannisberg, Stadt Museum, Theatreplatz – well you get the idea. Centrum seemed like a good start so I set off on the final leg and for the first time in seventy five kilometres the road went up, quite seriously, a fact my legs didn’t appreciate one bit.

Its not like it was an alp, maybe four hundred metres, five at a push but after such a flat ride none of me was keen to drag the bike up the slope. I felt a right prawn crawling up the length of the Dalberg at barely ten kph, some rider I am. The signs lost some destinations as I continued into the city, eventually crossing a big junction with a small tower by it.

It now said it was just point two of a kilometre to the centre, yay! Well I still need to find the hotel and the rest of the band but once I’d crossed the second half of the junction it was mere seconds before I was riding through shops, shops that are on Frohsinnstraße, the same street as the hotel. I spotted the Hotel sign before the actual building but, no disrespect, you’d need to be blind to miss the building, its hardly a wall flower!
 

I dismounted and propped my steed up against one of those big planter things that city authorities so like to plonk everywhere and pulled out my Handy, best find out where the others are I guess.

‘Brrrp, brp, brrrp, brp, brrrp, brp.’

Come on, pick up.

‘Brrrp, brp, brrrp, brp, brrr’
"Hallo.”
"Stefan?”
"Erd!”
"So like I’m outside of the hotel, where are you guys?”
"Already, Marcus, you got the sweep!”
"You were betting on me?”
"After last time.”
"Okay, so where are you?”
"Getting some culture, thought we’d get a look at the Pompejanum”
"Oh,” I sighed, I didn’t say anything but I wouldn’t’ve minded doing that myself.
"We’re nearly done,” Stefan told me, "Get yourself checked in and we’ll see you shortly.”

Well there was nothing to offer as an alternative.

"Okay, tschuss.”
"Tschuss.”

I dropped my Handy back into my jersey pocket, retrieved my bike and headed for the hotel reception.
 
Maddy Bell © 14.08.2022