The previous night’s Raspberry schnapps bore bitter fruit in the addled vineyards of my morning mind and a remnant of conversation from the ‘welcome dinner’ brought forth from Dieter rhapsodies over Ulm’s Cathedral over the farewell breakfast.

And, with that, postcards were promised, hands were shaken, a flickering faith in human decency was rekindled and the road was once more measured in rims and rubber.

But slower. Three days of relatively hard riding, with a modest load of baggage, had brought a sharp ligamental pain to a novel sector of my inner right knee. The night found it just as sensitive. And here I was scheduled to ride 150km to Ingolstadt. I wondered what to do as I approached Ulm.

Ulmer Münster from the Danube.

The Münster simply dominates the town. The spacetime of the surrounding city is bent inwards towards its massive gravity.

The tallest church tower in the world. Not called a ‘Dom’ or Cathedral because its builders switched from Catholicism to Protestantism before it was finished, thus the largest Protestant church in the world. Started in 1337 and finished in 1890 - are you kidding me? According to Dieter, unlike other comparable churches, Ulm’s Muenster was financed purely by private citizens instead of The Church or nobility. Apparently, the tower is tall enough that you can see the Alps from it on a clear day.

But, to find that out would mean leaving my bike alone, unattended, in a strange area. Despite obsessive fears and a highlight reel of nightmare scenarios, I took the leap of faith of leaving That Go’s side and went inside.

Once inside, I realized I couldn’t just pop in for 10 minutes and then begin the 7-hour ride to Ingolstadt. The solution to my knee problem was solved: spend the day in Ulm and then take the train to Ingolstadt. I searched for a confessional inside the church to confess my laziness but found none.

It was a truly awe-inspiring place. And the tower, which you can theoretically climb all the way to the top of, was terror-inspiring. 2/3rds of the way up, my poor bicycle a mere red speck on the plaza below, I turned around, hugging the interior wall of the both terribly claustrophobic yet terribly wide-open to the surrounding empty stratosphere spiral staircase.

The Town Hall was beautiful as well, covered with elaborate medieval(ish?) frescoes of battle scenes, daily life, proverbs and the flags of Ulm’s various military allies of the last few centuries. The Pyramid is the public library.

On the ramparts along the river is a plaque to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Albrecht_Berblinger who successfully built and crashed the first flying machine into the Danube there.

After some hours, a train was booked. Ate plums from a store with an Arabic marquee. Was politely accosted by animal right’s activists at the train station. Rationalized the train ride from various angles until the train ride through Bavaria to Ingolstadt via Augsburg was over.

If Ulm is dominated by their church, Ingolstadt is more subtly dominated by Audi, whose headquarters is there. Highlights gleaned from the town before the sun’s light went low were:

Cannons at

The Old Castle and

The Kreuzertor.

Every third car was an Audi.

To end the day, I biked to Benni, my next CouchSurfing host,’s place, going past the Mordor of Sleek Metal and Steel that was Audi HQ. We talked about the general conservatism of Germans bred of irrational fear of strangers over beer and spirits. He was applying to US internships at car manufacturers. A few weeks later, turns out, he got one.

Then: night night on the kitchen floor.