Another good day on the SpreeRadweg, today I passed through probably my most favourite area that I remember. Lets see what Spereemberg is like, Ive forgotten.

The small town of Lehe that time and tourists have only just remembered, with its many bridges lack of signposts is a place I’m quite fond of. I wouldn’t mind coming back and spending a week here…

Burg is another place I like, its also quite annoying. A bridge was out, there were plenty of signs saying it was out but no indication how to get around it. I asked a couple who lived there “How do I get to Burg”, “You are Already there they answered” The woman was much more help, she understood how confusing or difficult ten different places in close proximity called Burg could be. Burg it seems is an area – sort of. There is Burg “Commune”, By Burg , Burg “we were here first”, Burg “No you were not we were”, Burg “by the wold” and finally completing the ever-present Black Adder references Burg “the elder”.

Anyway, I eventually got to Burg and then promptly got lost.
I ate one of Herbert’s apples while trying to decide whether to take the direct 12km to Cotbuss route or go via Peitz. I chose to go via Peitz as it followed the Spree and I had slept there before, which indicated cheap lodging.

I think the young men in the video (will upload later) were the distraction, they were jumping in at a weir just after a confluence, there was sadly no Haven. Anyone understanding this last reference should really leave me a note. Anyway I took one branch and should have taken the other, I realised it quite quickly and made it to Cotbuss just not via Peitz.

Cotbuss has been on my mind today. Most of the time if not all of the time I have been in Berlin, I have not been that far from Kotbuser Tor, Xberg`s main transport hub, where the U8, U1 and every drug lord in east and western europe meet. Now again Im passing through Cotbuss itself. The reason its been on my mind is that the road signs around here are in both German and CZ.

Its not that far from the CZ and Polish borders and although East German women tend to be more fun than their West German counterparts, Czech & Polish women are another level up the spicy scale.

This may appear a shallow and superficial way to determine where one is in the world and it perhaps is. But it is immediately apparent to me. The clogs, socks, sandals ,Birkenstock, hairy legs and atrocious colour choices play a lesser role and painted toenails, skirts, heels and more frequent crashes play a greater role. Their is something quite ethereal about how and why women from eastern europe are. Its utterly indefinable they just are and its delightful to be amongst them, despite the crashes.

As I head towards the source of the Spree that so beneficially feeds the Spreewald, swells the gherkins and carries the fish, frogs, canoeists and many others along its path. There is something fundamental here as indefinable as the women but somehow linked, connected with life. A counterpart not born in, but living in the 60s would be using words like energy life-force and vibe about now.

Its always difficult for me to mention places like the Spreewald. The first time I mentioned a place to many people, two years later it was full of tourists. Im not saying I was the reason for its sudden and meteoric rise in tourism, as it was just after then that the Italians finally got some trains running and opened a road but it was rather coincidental and Id rather keep places like this to myself.

It does seem though as I type, that this particular horse has left the barn and is currently galloping towards notoriety, the rider on its back whooping and wildly firing a six gun into the air.