Ignorance is Bliss

Four friends, not-particularly-sporty, a-little-bit-over-forty, took it into their heads that it would be nice to bicycle from Germany to Austria along the Danube Valley. The internet said it was completely flat and, in fact, a little downhill all the way. What could be more pleasant?

First of all, we didn’t know that it was a journey of 400 kilometres. We didn’t know that, despite what the tour website promised, we could not easily hop on and off trains or ferries whenever we felt tired. And we, or I, didn’t know that my thighs would feel like burning bricks were being held against them after I’d biked 40 kilometres. Other things on the list of our ignorance were tire pressure – what would be optimum for best performance, or what would be considered flat. And, once flat, how to change the darned thing.
All I can say about this list of (seemingly important) things that we were ignorant of is: thank goodness we didn’t know! We would never have embarked on this crazy journey if we had been better informed. And we would have missed a most exhilarating, fascinating, challenging and life-enhancing week.

“Ignorance is bliss”, indeed!

Two days before departure, my throat started exhibiting the all too familiar scratchiness and soreness of a strep infection. While downing mega-doses of vitamin C, zinc and Echinacea, I agonized on whether to move my date of departure or to cancel altogether. Just to make life more difficult, our internet connection was down, so Butch had to keep rushing to an internet café in order to move my flights, while I lay in bed and desperately tried to get better. A pep talk from Myrna, and a prescription for Tamiflu tipped the scales against canceling and, since we couldn’t move the dates without huge penalties, I resigned myself to leaving as planned. I felt rotten, though, and went to bed the eve of our departure wondering how I would
manage ...