Episode 11 of Cycling from Belgium to Croatia

Day 11 starts with breakfast on a balcony that offers exactly zero postcard views and yet feels like luxury, simply because it is cooler than the room behind us. A few kilometres later, Bavaria begins doing that quiet magic trick where “pleasant countryside” slowly turns into “wait, are those the Alps?” They sit on the horizon like a dark blue promise, looking innocent for now.

We drift south on gentle roads and old lines built for trains, and somehow even the small things feel cinematic. A relic from the railway age still stands in the grass, stubbornly on duty. Our confidence, meanwhile, takes a small hit when we choose the wrong path and end up manhandling fully loaded bikes up to a dyke with all the elegance of two people moving a piano. Naturally, the easy little path appears a few metres later, as if it had been there purely for comic timing.

By late day the landscape opens into Murnauer Moos, a wide, breathing wetland where the air feels busy with life and the mountains suddenly look close enough to touch. The light turns the first big ridgelines pink, like the Alps are blushing at their own entrance. We call it camp, unpack something that suspiciously resembles a proper aperitif situation, and once again prove a simple rule of bikepacking: back to basics can taste incredibly delicious too.

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