We leave our magical forest setting this morning, Strasbourg bound. It’s fascinating to know that these forests are selectively logged and horrifying to see how many trees are actually taken, on our way out.
The only comfort is that all around, despite the logging, all that can be seen is thick forest. There’s significant habitat left with this practice and it appears sustainable as the practice had been in place for a long time. I wish our country would learn from this. The vile clear felling we use razes habitats and destroys the environment. Clear felled sites become wastelands, never to recover. We’ll never protect our creatures if we destroy their habitats.
It’s not long before we’re back in wine country. We’ve been enjoying the Alsace-Lorraine wines; excellent rieslings and gewurztraminers, very easy drinking.
We’re still in “go slow, sore foot” stage. I’m guessing that it might take a while, so rather than power through to Strasbourg, we prop by the enormous Rhine, on the German side, and ride to the local park along the river instead of walking.
It’s here we have the novelty of riding through Germany, into France, and again in one bike ride – the border is in the middle of this impressive bridge, just made for bikes and pedestrians. Cars have their own, trams, another.
It’s very peaceful by the river. We see a family of white swans,
a heron in flight,
and I get the opportunity to fine tune my dragonfly photography skills when I make friends with this guy.
I think I could be perfectly happy spending the rest of my life photographing flowers and bugs.
It’s not long before Chris’s foot has had enough. Back over the border we go, for treats German style. They love their ice-cream here.
Our modest “one boule” serves are eclipsed by towering versions of many boule, stacked with cream and sauces.
We spend the late afternoon chatting to new friends, a couple from Wales who’ve been motorhoming for 22 years. They’ve been everywhere and share many favourite spots and tips. These conversations are always a joy.
Strasbourg in the morning. Let’s hope Hoppy’s foot holds out.