Everything was packed to saddle our metal horses for a last time. Utrecht Centraal station offers one highlight for bikers, that I still wanted to capture on camera. It’s the world largest bike parking and was completed in 2019, offering double-decker bike racks for 12.500 bikes on three levels. Long stretched ramps connect the different levels of parking decks with a gentle slope. One giant loop stretches from north to south, being the interlace between the entrances and exits. The cost of this project was around € 30 million and worth every single Euro.
It’s a life changer for so many commuters to have a safe place for their bikes, and doesn’t have the feeling of being at the dark backside of a dirty railway station. Everything looks futuristic, well organized and under surveillance. From there we had to take a lift to get up to the great Plaza in front of the entrance of the railway station. Everything takes place on this upper level, bridging over the platforms on the lower level. An undulating roof swings above the vast space. We passed the electronic ticket control barrier with our bikes through special sized gates. While checking the train connections we ran into Johann Betz again, the director of “Sep Ruf”, who was also on his way home to Munich with the same train.
The chaos started not only with the ICE-train arriving late, but the order of the train carriages was opposite from the one on the display. This made the people run into each other to reach the other end of the train. For us it was essential to enter at the right door, because there was only one compartment for bike storage and we were dependant on the reservation we had for this one. With our bikes we had no chance to just hop on the train and try to push the bikes inside the train through the narrow aisle, because there was simply no space. So the only chance to reach the other end of the train was a quick jump on our bikes and pedal illegally on the other side of the platform to catch the right entrance of our wagon.
We made it and had to unload all our bags before we could get to our seats. A little boy called Oskar was also getting his bike attached to the mounting. He travelled with his grandmother and they both were very excited. Fortunately we all made it in time and the train left Utrecht and rolled us out of the Netherlands. Just after having crossed the border to Germany the announcement in the train said that due to an accident we would be detoured via Neuss instead of Düsseldorf, which meant an additional 2 1/2 hours to reach Cologne where we had to change trains. Under these circumstances it was impossible to get on our connecting train in time, and would mean we would lose our bike reservations.
As it was my mother’s birthday we had to send her the disappointing news that we would probably not be able to make it in time to her planned family dinner. I tried to find the conductress to get further information. When I finally could get a hold of her she recommended us to stay on the train, because our connecting train was just behind us, and it looked like they solved the problem and there was no detour after all. Only our transfer time from 40 minutes shrank to less than 10 minutes, which wouldn’t be a problem if we would arrive on the same platform as originally planned. But the closer we were getting to Cologne the more it looked like both trains would arrive simultaneously on different platforms, which would mean many challenges to catch the other one.
We prepared everything for the quickest change possible, integrating little Oskar and his grandmother, who also had to catch the same train. The grandmother was completely overcharged with all the things she had to take care of and nearly forgot to take her big suitcase.
The doors opened to the platform and I hurried to the one and only lift available, waiting in line to get in with my bike. Only one bike fitted into the lift so I couldn’t wait for Robert to join me. Then I had to find the right platform and take the next lift up while the clock was ticking. Our bike reservations were in the very first carriage at the end of the platform, so I took the risk of jumping on my pedal and roll down the charged bike as quickly as possible. I pushed my bike up the stairs into the train and tried to store it somehow while waiting for Robert to come.
Thankfully Robert managed to make it as well. Suddenly the train conductor handed Robert the bike of little Oskar without the boy himself in sight. The doors closed and the train rolled. Still no little Oskar with his grandmother to be seen, but the train conductor said they had entered the train at a door closer to the lift and were on their way with their luggage through the train. We started to fix the bikes to their mountings, and when Oskar and his grandmother reached us we knew we had everyone on board.
What an excitement and stress. We were soaking wet from all the running and weight lifting, and we needed our time to calm down. The only question was how much later we would arrive with our train, having started late already. It looked in the beginning like we would not able to catch the connecting regional train in Munich we had aimed for, as we had a delay of another1 ½ hours. But we had a clever train conductor, who had discussed with the train management if we were allowed to get into the new high speed tunnel between Stuttgart and Ulm in order to gain time. His announcement was a great relief, and in the end we arrived in Munich Pasing much quicker than we expected.
The circle was closing as we rolled into the S-Bahn towards Starnberg with our bikes fully charged with luggage, experiences and wonderful memories. We had that smile in our faces of what we had achieved not only that day but during the last 3 ½ months. It was a special moment for us after all we had been through, but for the people around it was just a normal Monday evening after a workday in the mid of October. The famous Oktoberfest ended already two weeks ago and they were back in their everyday life rhythm. No smile, not even an interested look at our equipment. Usually the people at least asked if we were on the Way of St. James when they saw the shells on our bags.
Nothing but grumpy faces on a Monday evening in the train while our hearts were full of joy. Getting off at Starnberg-North Station we only had to bike to our gate at the “Ottouno” where the tour started exactly 103 days ago to close the circle, and to check our tachometer how many kilometres we had biked since then: the digits on mine showed 5.145km
The miracle after all the “Deutsche Bahn Odyssey” we had been through during that day was the fact that we reached my parents’ house in time for my mother’s birthday dinner. Standing in front of the house ringing our bike bells, they opened the windows and saw us two down there in our complete bike gear, and couldn’t believe it. What a great surprise. My parents ran down the stairs and opened the door with tears of joy in their eyes and a big strong family Baehr-hug.
It was wonderful to be safely back and able to join the family dinner together with my sister’s family, my 102 year old grandmother and friends gathering around the table. So many things to be told, but still not put down in words. It was the next day, when we had a Sting concert to which we had invited my sister, her husband and our niece, that we saw by coincidence good friends of Robert just two rows in front of us. When she asked him what his feeling was looking back to the “Less-is-more-Tour” he summed it up with the words: “ This was the best thing I have ever done in my life!”
