Day 44: Neuburg an der Donau to Freudenstadt

The storm has cleared leaving a cold, grey Germany.

I set out, riding through neat little German villages with painted plaster houses and their spike-spired churches. After a while, I stop to zip up my jacket and cuffs. I tighten the velcro arm straps and close the air vents.

There is dense fog making visibility difficult. The cold creeps in through my jacket.

I stop and struggle into the yellow waterproofs, as much for warmth as to keep the damp out. I take my gloves out of the panniers and put the vee-wipe on ready to clear the mist from my visor.

My fingers are cold and numb. They've turned white. I stop to massage some life back into them then set out again.

Huge bright yellow fields spread either side, my waterproofs looking pale in comparison. The air is filled with a sweet musky scent. I wipe the misted visor with my vee-wipe to be able to see around me more clearly. It's stunning - even in this murky weather.

The road narrows and starts to rise into the forest. The mushroomy smell of damp wood and leaf-litter fills the air. There's a stillness here - there's no wind and the mists hang in the tree tops. Occasional whisps float across the road in front of me. The moisture condenses on my visor and even on my glasses inside the helmet.

Soon, I'm glad to arrive at the campsite tucked away in a clearing in the Black Forest. The buildings are all made of timber. Trees have been carved into birds and beasts, wolves, owls, bears. They stare at me through the low hanging mist. Everything is damp and cold.

I set up camp and, after a hot mug of tea to warm up, I head to the restaurant. I really don't fancy cooking, sat outside the tent in this. As always, schnitzel features prominently on the menu. To be more accurate, it's that or sausage.

I order a sausage, salad and a glass of local wine. It's warm and cosy in the restaurant and the windows have steamed up. The warmth, the food and wine and my tiredness after a day's riding in the damp make me head off to the tent and my sleeping bag before it's totally dark. I fall asleep to the birds singing their evening songs and the occasional drip on the tent from the tree above.