Harz Mountains by ER-5, September 2000

It was September 2000 and UK refineries were blockaded by protesters, angry at high fuel prices. What a time to be going away on holiday - at this rate the toughest challenge would be to reach the ferry terminal 30 miles away. Then, with 48 hours to go, the protests stopped, the tank was filled and, shortly after, bike and rider were on board the Newcastle - Amsterdam ferry (ropes provided free, tie down your own machine).

Nine days were to be spent in Germany on the Kawasaki ER-5 with an overnight sea crossing in each direction. With leisurely journeys planned to and from the Harz Mountains (which, in truth, are wooded hills) I wondered how difficult it would be to ride on the right.

Overnight stays had been pre-booked and some route cards were in the tank bag. What could go wrong? Well not much, if we discount the complete circuit of Amsterdam's ring road and an unscheduled visit to Muenster airport. After 250 miles, including a further detour due to a roadblock, the first overnight stop in Bielefeld was reached. At the hotel, a freight container was on hand for overnight storage of motorcycles, so there were no worries about security. Incidentally, secure overnight storage for bikes is more common in Germany than in the UK. It's offered by a sizeable number of hotels and guesthouses - usually for free, sometimes for a small additional charge.

160 miles of cross-country riding filled the next day. Loaded with two 40 litre panniers and tank bag, the ER-5 handled reassuringly as usual. Although I'd placed route cards with 1cm high lettering, in the clear pocket in the top of the tank bag, I still found it easier to stop when I wanted to refer to them. In addition, a desire to keep moving led to another unplanned scenic detour but on holiday with time in hand, who's to care?

Driving on the right was proving to be no problem - just so long as I kept it in mind, particularly at junctions and roundabouts. Only once, on an empty lane did I pull away on the wrong side of the road. Concentrate! Riding certainly seemed easier than driving on the Continent. Tailgating was never a problem - perhaps due to the large GB sticker on the rear of the bike!

Having crossed the old border between the former East Germany and West Germany, the Harz could be seen in the distance. The mountains rise up sharply behind the town of Wernigerode. Like the Pendle district of Lancashire, the area is steeped in tales of witches and strange goings on. That afternoon, with the half-timbered buildings of Wernigerode bathed in weak sunlight and the peaks shrouded in mist, the old stories seemed only too plausible.

Refurbished street in Wernigerode		Refurbished broomstick in Wernigerode

The village of Schierke, around 15 miles from Wernigerode, was to be base for the next three days. It lies on the side of the Brocken, the highest peak in the Harz and there the ER-5 earned a couple of days' rest. The station at Schierke is part of the Harz Narrow Gauge Railway (Harzer Schmalspurbahn or HSB). Over 80 route-miles are operated by steam trains and railcars.

With a keen rider as manager, the Hotel Waldfrieden offers a 10% reduction to visitors arriving by bike as well as detailed descriptions of touring routes. Armed with these recommendations, together with a 1:50,000 map of the Harz, the next few days were spent getting to know the area by bike. Three nights in Schierke were followed by three nights in Herzberg Sieber - only 20 miles away but on the edge of the Harz.

Nine years after reunification, there are still differences to be seen between the eastern and western areas although refurbishment and modernisation schemes are going ahead, flat out. Nevertheless some places still seem untouched with roughly cobbled streets and tired-looking buildings. A good clue is to look up at the roofs as you approach. If the modernisers have paid a visit, there'll be plenty of new roof tiles. Most places have been treated kindly with the character being retained or restored rather than being swept away. Obviously the work takes time and rather large sums of money. Taxpayers in the former West Germany pay a supplement to fund some of the work in the East.

Even in September, some mornings were frosty. Temperatures were noticeably different between valley floor and summit. These hills were once heavily mined for their metal ores and there are several good mining museums as well as cave systems open to visitors.

Innerste Stausee, south of Langelsheim		Narrow gauge steam train at Hasslefelde, with Harz Mountains behind

Though busy at weekends, the twisting roads in the Harz National Park were quiet during the week. The scenery outside the Park, particularly to the east, is also worth visiting. Small villages such as Stiege surpass many places mentioned in the traditional guidebooks. It's also possible to see evidence of the old "planned economy" in unexpected places. I came across a redundant factory on a hilltop, several miles from Strassberg, the nearest village. With the gates locked, not a soul was to be seen.

Closed factory		Stiege

In many of the smaller towns, diversion signs prevailed as traffic was routed around areas of street refurbishment. In the country, other signs warned of road damage - repairs would come later. One stretch of main road was formed of cobbles for several miles and even travelling at 40mph seemed rather hairy. Complete with severe bends, it faithfully followed the lie of the land. A German rider later explained that, with such roads, the top speeds of East European bikes were more than adequate. Other roads had been completely regraded, straightened and neatly edged with avenues of young trees.

The warm spell meant that at hotels and cafés it was still possible to eat outside during the middle of the day. Motorcyclists, families and groups of old ladies mingled without any fuss, all enjoying coffee and cakes or a beer. One day I skipped the normal picnic lunch but by three o'clock I was desperate for something to eat. In Blankenburg, I passed a McDonalds but didn't stop - somehow it seemed against the grain to order a Big Mac while trying to soak up a bit of Germany. Half an hour later I was back - Culture Vulture 0, Stomach 1.

After three nights in Herzberg Sieber it was time to head back towards Holland by way of Bad Harzburg, where I'd promised to pick up a decoration for a relative. This turned out to be a spherical dried flower arrangement for hanging from the ceiling - where on earth would it fit? With no fuss, the shop assistant produced a sturdy box that could be strapped to the pillion.

With the holiday drawing to a close, the weather broke and the afternoon was one of thundery showers. Some of the Autobahn surfaces are formed of short ribbed concrete sections, which never seemed to offer much grip in the wet. Maybe this is a false impression but trunk roads felt better in such conditions.

The final night was spent at the Landgasthaus Niemann in Lage-Kachtenhausen, which is partly pub, partly guesthouse but mostly old farmhouse. The bike was stored in an old barn for the night. Breakfast was organised by a Russian lady, whose husband was an ethnic German. The tales of life in a former Soviet republic sounded grim but now her life was quite different. Some things she found quite crazy - why on earth travel by motorbike if you owned a car? Adamant that travellers, particularly those without a car, should travel with sufficient food supplies, she ensured that I set off with a tank bag loaded with extra ham and cheese rolls - very useful as it turned out.

Following trunk roads 66 and 68, the traveller reaches the E30, which runs due west to Amsterdam. A straightforward run was abruptly terminated at Osnabrueck by hoards of diversion signs - westbound the motorway was completely closed for rebuilding. With the traffic already restricted to one lane, this caused tailbacks of several miles and there was little scope for filtering. It took two hours to pass the blockage.

Given the choice, I'd rather potter along rural byways than dash headlong up a motorway but there was now little alternative but to hurry west faster than planned. While not exactly late, I couldn't afford another 2-hour hold up so the next few hours were covered at the speed limit. On the unfaired ER-5 this was windy (and in retrospect tiring) but not unpleasant. Meal breaks were swift, thanks to those rolls.

At the end of the day the ferry was reached with an hour to spare - just time enough to look at the other bikes and chat with the riders before the sea crossing home.