Distance: 65.81 miles

Time: 6:21:25

Average Speed: 10.4 mph

Elevation Gain: 1,582 feet

I’d lucked out with the Campingplatz Südstrand campsite. I’d only ended up there because its reception was still open, but the facilities had been excellent, and although I was initially concerned that I hadn’t paid up front – as I’d heard that German campsites were expensive, and there was a card payment system for using the showers and cooking facilities – but ultimately the 22 euro cost seemed reasonable, especially seeing as I’d had two very warm showers, and cooked up industrial quantities of Lidl risotto on the hob.

With a Saturday morning Parkrun at stake, and over 60 miles to go, I was underway by half past 11, then, after pedalling along to Neustadt’s bustling harbour area, I was drawn in by the lure of the area’s culinary speciality, fischbrotchen, varieties of sandwich containing fish, sauces, pickles, and salad leaves.

Bamboozled by the menu, I opted to play it safe with my opening gambit, Raucherlachs mit honig, or smoked salmon with a honey and mustard dressing to you and I. First go, great success, so I upped the ante, selecting Bismarck – or pickled herring – for the second attempt, the pickling was pleasant and I was kind of enjoying it, until I ran out of bread, and my appetite for the slippery raw piece of fish dwindled.

Continuing along the main road, through Neustadt, I soon swung back off towards the coast, rejoining it at the sleepy seaside town of Sierksdorf, where, seeing a bike maintenance station beside the promenade, it reminded me I’d been meaning to pump up my tyres, instantly regretting that recollection when the pump let the air out instead of putting it in.

A sudden shower struck just as I reached the other end of the strip at Scharbeutz, sending me rushing for cover at a handily placed bakery, picking up a delicious apple crumble cake for later in the day.

Turning back inland, I was excited to be greeted by 3 bikepackers as we rode past each other on a narrow country lane. Perhaps not too unusual an occurrence on previous trips, but on this one my attempts at contact with my fellow cycle-touring brethren have usually been spurned. Perhaps in the homeland of the pannier-making giants of Ortlieb and Vaude, it’s just too common a thing to do.

Finally, reaching the once Hanseatic city-state, now UNESCO World Heritage Site of Lübeck, some 20 miles in, I was confronted by a row of fine medieval town houses across a moat, with the spires of 5 large cathedrals piercing the sky beyond, offering a tantalising glimpse of this special city, famed for its gothic red-brick architecture, and its marzipan.

Forging my way through the heart of the old town, I passed by the monumental Marienkirche – some 800 years old and restored after heavy bombing during the Second World War – before stumbling upon the old Marktplatz town square – in my bid to find a good vantage point for the tightly hemmed in church.

After an ice cream for the road and taking care to charge my light batteries for later, I pushed through to the other side of town, finding myself on a rough canal path for a short spell, before regaining the road, just in time to detour around a couple of significant road closures where improvement works were being carried out.

Having left the Lübeck city limits, I wended my way along country lanes for a time, before starting to worry about the lack of provisions I was carrying as I passed through the tiny hamlet of Labenz, and was instantly drawn to a vending machine sitting on the road outside a guest house, before then stopping for dinner at a Turkish takeaway in Sandesneben, anyway.

Just after leaving the takeaway there was a commotion from inside, Spain had just scored, putting my current hosts, Germany, at risk of going out at the Quarter final stage of their home European Championships. Some time later, as I continued my journey, through Lutjensee – along Hamburger Strasse – there was a loud screaming from multiple directions all at once, it could only mean that Germany had equalised, but as I started the long trudge through Hamburg the cues seemed to be a little more ambiguous after that, until finally they were out.

I had been grinding away for an hour or more through Germany’s second largest city when I finally reached the Motel One hotel that I had booked for the evening. Or had I booked? The telltale Expedia booking email I was expecting to find was absent, and now the hotel was sold out. Fortunately I’d also had my eye on a Super 8 by Wyndham hotel a short distance away, and they still had rooms, so, ensuring I’d booked properly this time, I raced on over, delighted I’d made it. It was almost 10 o’clock, but I was in Hamburg, and tomorrow was Parkrun day.