Espresso 4 Breakfast: 2013-07-11: On the bikes, Day Six. Traismauer to Vienna.

Wow, the *last* day :) As I mentioned before, although we've had a TON of fun on the bike trip, I think we're all ready for the next phase of our trip (sans bikes).

We woke up and had a wonderful breakfast at the Inn Nibelungenhof and didn't beat around the bush too much - we knew the last day was the longest (70+ km) and with our recent spate of umleitungs we thought it could go longer...

Annnnd, they're off!

This was a gorgeous courtyard. One of the only places wifi reached (the walls were so thick).

So we hit the road! We hit some familiar things (wayside temples/crucifixes, schneckerln, and the Donau), but also some unfamiliar things (a surprise turkey farm! they were really fun to talk with).

A schneckerln! These were everywhere on the trail, and quite large. This one is about 3 inches across.

Sandwiches, in their pre-pre-packaged state.

The little green Donauradweg signs are your friends.

Man, I miss rowing.

Hey look Jesus, I'm free!


Cool story bro.

Fountains of Tulln, being majestic.

Seriously, everyone has solar. EVERYONE. These are "cabins" with solar galore.

Pro tip: pay the piper the full price for ridding you of rats. Lest all your children (except the deaf and forgetful) disappear down the river on a ghost ship. #themoreyouknow

Rathaus - appropriately named building for politicians to work in, ja?

The girls, brightening up the place. This was just after getting eis (malaga is my new (old) favorite flavor).

So we ended up going through Korneuburg, the origin of the Pied Piper tale. They had a huge rat problem, so hired this dude who magically got all of them to follow him with his flute. Whereby they went to the river and all drowned. Problem solved? NO. The local politicians only paid him 25% of his rate and he returned, this time playing his flute so that all of the children followed him to his ship - whereby they were never seen again. The only kids to survive were as follows: a deaf kid who couldn't hear the flute, and a forgetful one that returned for his jacket.

Of course, this is a different solution than another town we visited in Europe 4 years ago came up with. Riomaggiore Italy (in the Cinque Terre) had a rat problem. So they imported a metric shit ton of cats. Now they don't have a rat problem, they have a CAT problem. I can attest to the prevalence of very pushy (redundant) and overly-self-confident (redundant) cats in Riomaggiore.

Anyway, I was wondering how towns like this come up with tales and are allowed for it to continue for so long. Did they really have some event that caused a great loss of the children? It was hundreds of years ago, but I have to assume that nearby towns (Klosterneuberg just down the road, for example) would have been like "yeah, I don't think so!". Or was it sort of an honor system with trading - "alright Korneuberg, you can make up that story, but we get to make up a different story! We'll all wink about it to each other for a few hundred years until it becomes either legend or retroactively-acknowledged fact". For the record, those words are what *I* said in my mind, on their behalf - I doubt many of them back then could grunt any words more than bisyllabic without a fair effort, so...

Anyway, we had a kickin' tailwind for much of the ride, it ended up being 75 km (!), and we flew past just about everyone on the trail :)

VIENNA, WE ARE IN YOU

Goodbye, trusty old steed. *sniff*

After we got done crying and saying goodbye to our bikes, we went out looking for grub. Ended up heading north to Nussberg near Grinsing where Amy and her family lived over the summer of 1984. Found a sweet outdoor heuriger and proceeded with the libations.

Outdoor dining suits her!

Maya, with my liter of doppelbock.

Ella with my liter of doppelbock (give it back!)

A whole lotta organ meat, shaped into a ball! For reference, this spoon was a serving spoon, the globe 'o' ground liver was about 5-6 inches in diameter.