Germany – Austria – Italia 2025

Day 1 – Würzburg to Rothenburg

The official start of our riding began with a short train hop out of Würzburg. Germany makes cycling easy, and almost as soon as we rolled off the platform we found ourselves on well-marked paths that guided us effortlessly through the countryside. The riding was easy to moderate, a gentle way to ease into the trip, with dedicated bike routes threading alongside the river and through small villages. Midday found us in Ochsenfurt, where we paused for a picnic lunch. We had prepped sangas at Michael's house and we happily ate them under a shade, then had a nice coffee across the road. The kilometres passed smoothly, and before long the lure of Bavarian beer drew us into a stop or two on the way towards Rothenburg. The combination of cool shade, foaming glasses, and the promise of the medieval town ahead made it one of those afternoons you don’t want to rush. Dinner that night was at the Bayerischer Hof, where we were looked after by a waiter who introduced himself as a descendant of French aristocracy – a “Duke” no less. Whether the story was fact or just a well-polished line didn’t really matter; very nice restaurant and good, if you can manage to seat away from the smoking chimneys that are out of control all over Germany!

Day 2 - From to Rothenburg to Donawurth

After the bigger push of yesterday, Day 2 felt like a gentle roll through the Franconian countryside. We left Rothenburg under clear skies, a warm sun on our backs, and the road stretched easy and flat ahead. Almost the whole way was on bike paths — a real treat — winding past fields, neat villages, and the occasional patch of woodland. It was one of those mornings where the kilometers just tick over without you really noticing. Of course, no day goes completely to plan. Peter’s gears started misbehaving not long after Bronnholzheim. Luckily, a local mechanic there turned out to be a hero, sorting things quickly and cheerfully. Back on the road, we rolled into Crailsheim right in the middle of a town celebration. Stalls, music, and a proper buzz in the square. We lingered longer than intended, and with the clock against us, opted for two short train hops to close the gap to Donauwörth. Donauwörth itself wasn’t the most exciting stop, but we found a welcoming spot to stay just outside town. The evening brought its own reward: a hearty dinner at Mythos, a local Greek restaurant. The food was plentiful, the drinks flowed, and the slightly boozy owner turned out to be as much entertainment as host. It was the perfect way to end what was, in the end, a light but colourful day on the road.

Day 3: On to Augsburg

After a couple of eventful days, this one felt almost suspiciously easy. The kind of day where everything just works — the legs are good, the weather behaves, and the road seems to gently guide you forward without asking too many questions. No mechanicals, no wrong turns, no unexpected detours. Just steady, uncomplicated riding.

The route into Augsburg rolled by without fuss, mostly flat and forgiving, giving us time to actually look around rather than focus on the next climb or navigation cue. It was a welcome breather in the middle of the trip — one of those days you don’t fully appreciate until later, when the tougher ones start stacking up again.

We checked into the Leonardo Hotel Augsburg, which turned out to be a great call — comfortable, well located, and exactly what was needed after a few days on the road. The evening split us into two very different camps.

Dinner was Afghan — rich flavours, generous portions, and a nice change from the usual fare. After that, Christian made the executive decision to stay close to base, settling in near the hotel bar and embracing a quieter end to the day. Meanwhile, Peter and Michael headed into town, clearly on a more культурally ambitious mission, taking in a bit of Augsburg’s history and atmosphere.

Different approaches, same outcome — a relaxed, easy day that left everyone recharged and ready for what comes next.

Day 4: Augsburg → Landsberg

It was a grey, rainy start leaving Augsburg, and the ride out of town felt longer and more tedious than expected. Wet roads, flat light, and a bit of city sprawl made for a slow opening, with everyone just grinding through it rather than enjoying it. Thankfully, once we cleared the outskirts and the rain backed off, things improved quickly. The roads opened up, the countryside came into its own, and what started as a dull morning turned into a genuinely pleasant ride.

Arriving in Landsberg am Lech lifted spirits further, especially with the promise of a nice dinner to round out the day. The food and atmosphere delivered — mostly. Michael’s pasta came with an unexpected surprise in the form of a worm, which briefly stole the show before turning into one of those stories that gets funnier the more it’s told. Not the smoothest day, but definitely a memorable one.

Day 5: Landsberg → Füssen

We said our goodbyes to Michael in the morning, one rider down as we rolled out of Landsberg am Lech. The first stretch didn’t offer much — flat, uneventful, and a little monotonous for the best part of half an hour. But as the ride settled, so did the scenery. The roads became quieter, the landscape greener, and the gentle incline gave the day just enough shape without ever turning punishing. It was relaxed riding, the kind where conversation flows easily, broken only by a well-earned coffee stop (with a bit of singing thrown in) before the final run into town.

Arriving in Füssen felt like stepping into a postcard — busy, a little touristy, but undeniably charming. We found our hostel, parked the bikes for the night, and headed out to enjoy it properly. A beer to start, followed by dinner in a medieval-style spot that leaned right into the town’s character. The evening took a slightly unexpected turn when a local, clearly enjoying himself, delivered what can only be described as a fart concerto to his amused mates — not quite part of the cultural program, but memorable all the same.

Day 6: Füssen → Happy Camp

We rolled out of Füssen around 9, relieved to see dry skies for once. Breakfast was a quick grab — a couple of sangas, no coffee in sight — and then straight onto the road. The day didn’t look too intimidating on paper at just 38 km, and the first 15 km played along nicely: easy riding, steady pace, nothing to complain about. Then, without much warning, things changed. Gravel paths appeared, the climbs sharpened, and suddenly we were pushing bikes up sections that clearly hadn’t been part of the “easy day” briefing. To keep things interesting, there were also stretches on the highway that had the nerves jangling a bit — not ideal, but part of the adventure.

We eventually rolled into Happy Camp, greeted by a reservationist who was as entertaining as she was chaotic — a proper character. After settling in, we headed out for a well-earned drink and dinner before grabbing a pizza to take back. The walk home came with a light sprinkle of rain, just enough to keep things consistent with the trip so far, and we could only hope it would clear by morning. Not the longest day, but definitely one that packed in a bit of everything.

Day 7: Happy Camp → Imst

Happy Camp turned out to be a gem — simple setup with shared bathrooms, but everything clean, relaxed, and well run. Breakfast was solid, and the unexpected highlight was a very chilled bunny hanging around reception. We timed our departure carefully (purely to avoid the rain, not laziness), stocking up on lollies, sugary drinks, and crisps before rolling out. The ride began beautifully — easy navigation out of town, the rain clearing just as we got going, and the kind of scenery that makes you forget you’re pedalling. For a long stretch we rode alongside Beaver Creek, even managing to track down what we jokingly called “the owner of the creek,” which added to the day’s growing list of random moments.

Things shifted once we hit a long gravel climb — tough going, steady elevation gain, and plenty of breathers required along the way. After eventually grinding it out, we were back on the highway briefly (still not fun, but less terrifying than the day before) before veering onto a much friendlier downhill gravel track that felt more like mountain biking than touring. A halfway stop for leftover pizza hit the spot, but the descent that followed was rough and rocky — somewhere along there Peter’s phone disappeared from its holster. It wasn’t until the bottom that we realised, prompting Christian to ditch the panniers and ride back uphill to search for it. Miraculously, the phone was found lying face down on the trail, completely intact. From there it was an easy roll into Imst, with postcard views of mountains, goats, and cows — their bells chiming away like a soundtrack to the valley.