Now, before I go into this, I want to clarify something.

I’m sure not all Germans are like this. I know a good few who are amazing people.

But come on.

This has sucked since I crossed the border.

Within ten minutes of passing the tiny sign announcing that I was now in Germany, my nose became blocked.

Then it was running.

Then it wasn’t.

My head started hurting and my throat became as sore as my arse.

I assumed hay fever, took a pill and carried on.

A few hours later?

Nothing.

I still felt like shit.

The next day was just as bad.

Then I noticed the tiny bites on my right wrist.

Ticks?

Mosquitoes?

Fuck knows.

Oh well.

Power on.

The campsite closes at 6pm, so if I go hard I should make it in time.

What a shit day’s riding.

It was Sunday, so everything was shut apart from petrol stations. I was desperately looking around for somewhere to buy something for the cold and flu I was convinced I had.

But this is Germany.

“We don’t sell tablets of any kind.”

Okay.

I guess they’re restricted.

I look over the woman’s shoulder.

There’s literally a bucket of tobacco sitting behind her.

But medication?

Absolutely fucking not.

The sun was high above me and I’d already gone through about four litres of water and two blueberry Red Bulls from McDonald’s, which I think was probably the best part of the day.

Eventually I made it to the campsite.

It was an immediate and rather depressing change from the Netherlands.

The roads were still straight, and still seemed to go on for about 5 km at a time, but now they were broken, lumpy and covered in weeds.

I pulled into the campsite and found three men standing around.

“Speak English?”

“Yes,” one said.

“You choose what language.”

I was hanging out my arse and not really sure what to say, so I just repeated:

“English.”

Not the best start.

But after showing him the bites and asking what he thought, he told me:

“Go to hospital.”

We had women doing the same thing the next day.

“Hospital.”

Thanks for that.

So that’s what I did.

A ferry ride across the Rhine later, with all my electronics now completely dead, I ventured into the hospital.

And this is when it got worse.

Much worse.

The German triage nurse proceeded to shout at me in German, rolling her eyes while I stood there trying to explain what was wrong.

Eventually, after explaining myself to multiple doctors, they took my blood.

Then they left me.

For four hours.

Eventually I called for some water.

Then they all came back.

Apparently, I was fine.

I needed to leave.

Here’s some antibiotics.

Goodbye.

I still had the cuff on my arm and an access point stuck into my vein.

I just looked at them.

Then looked down at my arm.

“Can you take this out first?”

9pm.

Phone dead.

Battery packs dead.

Missed the last ferry back to the campsite.

Fuuuuuuuuccckkkkk.

I wandered around until I found an Indian restaurant.

They let me charge my phone and, to give me a little hope, gave me a free small beer.

Silver linings.

They also told me that if I wanted somewhere cheap to stay, I should head into Düsseldorf.

So that’s what I did.

BLK Hostel.

That’ll do.

Three lovely women showed me on the map where I needed to go and told me which station to get off at.

So off I went.

Except either I got it wrong or they did.

Because I ended up outside a gay bar.

Not BLK.

At this point, I just wanted to go to bed.

Premier Inn.

That’ll do.

€90 a night.

Fuck it.

I needed to charge my phone anyway so I could actually pay, which they kindly allowed me to do.

Then the guy shocked me slightly.

There I was, standing next to a fully loaded bike, visibly ill, visibly exhausted, looking like I’d just been dragged through Germany backwards.

“Is there anything you can do about the smell?”

I’m sorry.

What?

“We sell hand sanitiser.”

You smell.

Mate.

The sooner you get me into my room, the sooner I can have a fucking shower.

I’m sick of this.

The eye rolls.

The rudeness.

The complete lack of patience.

Even ordering an ice cream becomes an ordeal.

Not knowing the language, I point at the ice cream and gesture how many.

Easy, right?

Nooooo.

Apparently not.

It’s always a wave of the hand, followed by them turning their back on you.

So yeah.

Fuck this.

Another hostel for tonight.

I still feel like shit.

Tomorrow I’m heading for Cologne.

Let’s hope it gets better.

Because at this point, Germany owes me a fucking good day.