Cycle Tour Iron Curtain Tour, part 3 Gdynia-Aš

The next morning, the front wheel was goddamn flat again. I slapped my thighs so hard in anger that my watch strap snapped. But then Kai came strolling along with help in the form of both an air pump and rubber glue. Lucky again! Soon I was tramping up another madly steep hill.

I looked forward to arriving at the Werra River, for I was to follow it and its tributary the Ulster for several days ahead. And cycling in Germany along rivers is very popular, so there are always cycle paths, and most of the time they are in good shape. In Werleshausen it was due to happen. The Werra welcomed me and I rested on its bank. And got my watch strap reassembled. And indeed, what a pleasure to cycle up the Werra in a rather deep valley on a wide paved path. The Werra is one of the Weser's two source rivers and etymologically the correct one.

Soon I reached the camping oasis in Wahlhausen, where an exuberantly friendly but slightly stressed camping mummy welcomed me. She provided me with an awful lot of 50 cent pieces, because they were used in the washing machine. Plus she promised to lend me her drying rack. Camping daddy offered me strawberry cake and a bucket of coffee, which I had on the terrace of the cafe. And I could pitch the tent in a meadow all the way down to Werra. Perfect! Then the morning bath the next morning was promised. When the clothes hung freshly washed on the rack in the sun, I cycled to today's destination, the border museum  of Schifflersgrund.

Or I cycled one kilometer and then pushed the bike up an incredibly steep stretch of patrol road with the nasty holed slabs. Bathed in sweat and completely out of sorts, I arrived at the museum, which was only open for another hour and a half. It was undergoing general renovation just that day. While I was there, the reception moved from a primitive shipping container into a modern building with all amenities. Very special. The exhibition itself also seemed a bit temporary, but their outdoor display of vehicles and especially helicopters was flawless. They had really gathered an Impressive amount vintage military hardware. In particular, a Mi-24 Hind attack helicopter with its rotating machine gun under the lower canopy evoked memories of distant days in the Danish air force. This helicopter was respected at the time in the early eighties. Also, a few meters of the metal border fence with mounted fragmentation mines looked authentic. A map struck me: American troops had liberated large parts of the territory of the later GDR from Nazism, including the entire state of Thuringia. But the US stuck to the London conference, where the demarcation of the occupation zones had been determined, including the four ones in Berlin. My aunt Gisela had said that the Americans had come first, but then they had left and the Russians had come instead. She had been very unhappy with that.

Outside on the way to a watchtower high above the Werra valley, Hans-Georg Große's fate aroused compassion. As a construction worker on the eastern  side of the border, he had driven his digger to the fence, climbed onto the shovel and jumped over the fence. But then he was shot in the back on his way up the slope to the west. Where he died there was a cross.

Soon I sped down to Allendorf, a beautiful half-timbered town on the Werra. I would think that at least half of the houses in the center are half-timbered. First I bought a bicycle air pump and some rubber glue in a hardware store, and then I was out at the campsite to look after my freshly laundered clothes and change for the evening. Back in Allendorf again I found a restaurant to have dinner in called Deutsches Haus (German House). Old fashioned German food reminds me of my mother. And this really tasted like home at "Mummy's".