Koblenz 22 Sep
Herzberg to Koblenz 198 mile
After breakfast, we geared up for what promised to be a long, wet day on the road.
The rain had poured heavily overnight, leaving us with a daunting 200 mile journey ahead. What should have been a scenic ride through France and into Belgium was reduced to a tedious slog along the motorway network. With poor visibility and relentless rain, it wasn’t the ideal route, but it was the safest choice under the circumstances.
My uncle once shared an amusing tale from his biking adventures, a story that began en route to Koblenz during his journey to the Czech Republic. These days, he enjoys a peaceful retirement in the jungles of Sri Lanka, living a life of utter tranquility and paradise. But back in the day, he was a proud member of the UK Virago Club, cruising on a gleaming Yamaha 500cc Virago.
The adventure in question took place during a group tour with about 50 fellow bikers, a scenic expedition through Bohemia. They were accompanied by the organiser, a relief vehicle carrying their luggage, and guided by a controversial biking method. This involved a leader at the front, a sweeper at the rear, and the rest of the riders sandwiched between. The leader would stop oncoming traffic to let the group through, while the sweeper waved on vehicles left waiting. It wasn’t the safest approach and was riddled with issues, resembling more of a chaotic swarm of bees. Foolproof, right? As they say, "What could possibly go wrong?"
First, there’s the charming peculiarity of the Virago 500cc. Its fuel tank is roughly the size of a peanut. With a capacity of just 2.9 gallons (about 13 litres), its range varies between 136 and 148 miles—assuming you’re riding solo and not carting the contents of a small wardrobe or, heaven forbid, a passenger. You’d be lucky to squeeze out 110 miles before sputtering to a halt.
Since this was a guided tour, long before GPS systems were the norm, the entire group refuelled en masse. However, this “simple” task turned into a production line, one bike after another. While the ladies made a beeline for the loos, touching up their makeup and comparing hairbrushes, their partners lined up to refuel their bikes one agonising pump at a time. The whole ordeal easily devoured an hour, and with the day’s mileage requiring two or three such pit stops, progress was… leisurely.
But the real chaos struck when the relief vehicle, laden with everyone’s luggage, broke down miles behind the group. In his infinite wisdom, the tour leader decided to break ranks and backtrack to assist, leaving the rest of the bikers to fend for themselves. With no map and apparently no sense of direction, the group was left floundering.
A brave soul eventually stepped forward to lead the way, brimming with confidence but armed with little else. What followed was a comedy of errors: wrong turns, endless bickering, and, of course, more fuel stops. By the time they finally rolled into their hotel in Koblenz, it was the early hours of the morning. They were soaked, exhausted, hungry, and, to add insult to injury, still without luggage. I believe my uncle decided from that moment onward to pursue a different kind of cruising.
Dinner was at the Landgang Restaurant, situated on the first floor of the Hotel Fahrhaus, overlooking the Moselle River. As pleasant as the setting was, the food was disappointingly average.
If there is a picturesque area of Koblenz that we obviously missed, could someone please get in touch and let me know where it is? I have no great desire to visit this place again anytime soon….