Cycling, Farming, and Not Nearly Enough Writing in Southern Germany

When I wrote my last progress journal, I'd just sold the first copy of my workbook.

That felt genuinely surreal. Months of writing, editing, changing things I'd already changed three times, convincing myself it wasn't good enough — and then finally pressing the terrifying "Publish" button and waiting to see what happened.

Since then, a few more copies have found their way into the world, which is very exciting - real people buying something that spent months living inside my head and my laptop.

Thank you, if you're one of them.

Then it was time to stop staring at a screen and actually head off travelling once more. I flew into Baden-Baden in southern Germany and made my way by buses and trains to Lake Constance (Bodensee), where my sister and her family live. I stayed for three glorious days, almost not wanting to leave.

There was paddle boarding and swimming in the lake, a lovely evening at a local vineyard, and food prepared by my fifteen-year-old niece, who always manages to create restaurant-quality meals from ingredients that look like they belong in a student cupboard. She's like a culinary magician.

Eventually, though, adventure called. My sister very generously lent me a bicycle, panniers and camping equipment, pointed me towards the cycle path and sent me on my way around Lake Constance.

What an incredible place to cycle. The lake stretches across Germany, Austria and Switzerland, with vineyards, orchards, medieval towns, mountain views and miles upon miles of beautifully maintained cycle paths.

At 273 kilometres around, some cyclists complete the whole circuit in under 24 hours. I would like to congratulate those people, while making it absolutely clear that I have no desire whatsoever to become one of them. My own version involved cycling between 40 and 60 kilometres a day, stopping whenever I saw something interesting, somewhere pretty or somewhere selling ice cream.

I stopped at campsites along the way, never booking ahead. Campsites generally cost between €15 and €25 a night, which is a fair chunk of my €30 daily budget.

But sometimes you simply can't put a price on waking up beside a lake, watching the sunset from your tent and cooling off in a swimming pool after cycling through 35°C heat.

One thing became obvious almost immediately. I was slow. Painfully slow. Mainly because nearly everyone else seemed to be riding e-bikes. But Every time one glided effortlessly past me on the flat, I'd feel quietly smug.

"Look at me," I'd think. "Using my own legs like people used to."

Then they'd sail past me uphill while I crawled along, panting and in some cases knowing that walking the bike would actually be faster. My smugness disappeared remarkably quickly.

Before completing the entire circumference of the lake, I cycled west to the small village of Dogern to meet my daughter Hannah, who was volunteering on an organic farm to gain experience for her agricultural degree. I joined her as a WWOOF volunteer — and this is where my imagined writing schedule went completely out the window.

I had pictured productive mornings at the laptop followed by leisurely afternoons working on the memoir. What actually happened was five and a half hours of daily planting, harvesting, and general farm labour, followed by afternoons spent trying to cool down, catching up on sleep after 5:15am alarms, and simply enjoying being with Hannah.

Some of the work has been genuinely fascinating. Some of it has involved harvesting what feels like the entire cucumber supply of Germany. If I never see another cucumber again, that will be fine with me. The polytunnels hover around furnace temperature, the tomato plants make your arms itch and going to bed at 9pm every night has never felt natural to me and probably never will.

What's made all of it worthwhile, though, is the time spent with Hannah. With both children now living increasingly independent lives, two uninterrupted weeks together has felt genuinely precious — exploring local markets, visiting nearby towns, cooling off in the local outdoor swimming pool, and even managing to squeeze in a village festival. We've also been eating extraordinarily well. Picking organic fruit and vegetables straight from the fields has given me a whole new appreciation for the work that goes into food most of us take completely for granted. I will never want to shop at Tesco’s again, but alas, I doubt my budget will agree.

As for the writing — I've made peace with the fact that not every day needs to produce thousands of words. I'm living in the moment right now and that will find its way onto the page later.

Right now, we're still together on the farm, but that changes on Saturday. I'll cycle back to my sister's house while Hannah heads there by bus to spend a couple of days with her cousins before continuing to another volunteering placement. I'll then travel to Marburg to meet my other child before we head to Poland together to volunteer teaching English.

With any luck, there'll be fewer cucumbers, a later alarm clock, and a few less degrees to battle with.