German Sausages

I awoke feeling even better but was still cautious with food. We packed up, paid up and headed on- through the few inches of snow on the hills that fell least night where we were and into the clear green fields below. It was funny driving about two meters below the snow line, seeing it on anything higher than us while below was clear. It was nice to see the attracive Bavarian countryside we had missed in the dark the night before although the damp skies didn't lend it's self to photos. We headed to Regansburg, an attractive and historic town north of Munich. I was astounded at the number of tour groups being led around but it is a pretty place with the first secured crossing cross the Danube in it's time. We seem to be forever crossing back and forth over the Danube since we first encounted it getting over into Romania, it's a very windey, long river. It was a nice place and Alex bought himself his second treat all holiday- a beautiful drinking horn.

We had lunch at the Historische Wurstkuchl, the sausage kitchen orgionally built for the bridge workers. I was disappointed how weedy the sausages looked after the big knoberly ones you get in Turkey and Iran and opted for potato soup instead. It was really nice to be able to just wander about a place and not feel a sense of urgency to get away to be somewhere else by a certain time. When we left we continued our broadly NWW bearing, heading towards a national park area. It was pitch dark by the time we got there and rough camping seemed a little less appealing. The first two campsites the Sat Nav found us weren't open for business so we tried one of the perfect looking tarmac roads that disappeared up into the wood with no car signs on. A wee way up the track we came to a barrier and a militairy sign and Alex twigged that some unusual speed limit signs he'd been seeing in the area were for tanks and jeeps. We headed back to the road, and didn't investigate any more- such a shame, all this perfect free camping land and the militairy had already clalimed it.

I had given up and we headed on to another campsite when just outside of the village we found the perfect place- a small carpark in the woods. We made a note of the place then decided to head into the next town for a tasty resturant meal before we came back here to sleep. It wasn't nearly as cold as many temperatures we've camped in but for one thing we've gone soft and for another it's the pervading dampness in the air that seeps right into you in the way that a healthy mountain cold never does. Neither of us wanted to cook. I managed some proper food tonight, all be it a child's portion!