|along our cycle track|
Another day of gentle paths, an early lunch of wurst along the way in a small village; the owner of the Gaststatte moved around his establishment in a furtive manner. At any moment I was expecting him to release his family from the basement, to enjoy a moment in the warm sunshine.
|We took a rest and a wurst. . . .|
Now the landscape was splashed with chrome yellow, fields of rape. Each field was adding fizz to the different shades of green, like a slice of lemon in a G&T.
Torgau is a delightful medieval town again right by the river. When we arrived the afternoon sun was bathing its reds, creams and ochre buildings and wetting the spires and lead rooftops.
This town was where, at the end of WWII, the Russian and Allied troops met. The place is restored and picture book pretty the castle in the town has a moat with its very own bears that playfully mauled each other when let out after breakfast.
|This bridge at Plotha of great delight|
|Torgau from our restaurant seat.|