Stage one was getting to Prague in time for a five a side football tournament this coming weekend.

Rewinding a little, Regensburg has a nice historic city centre, which apparently we deigned to not destroy int wars, although now it is under a smouldering pile of tour groups, fresh off their river cruise ships just like the ones you see on those TV ads.
Also, while the campsite was indeed for canoeists and cyclists only, they were having a birthday party for one of the members that went on until about 4am....
So I eschewed the worlds oldest hot dog takeaway and escaped as fast as possible on a disused and fortunately shady railway line, wiggling vaguely towards the Czech border.
Much relief to camp at a small site in the woods and get a quiet night - though the morning was anything but, with thunder cracking all around. I love a good thunderstorm - well, when I know I'm going to stay dry anyway.

Monday was the definition of rolling hills, largely capped with forest, one capped with an old NATO listening tower from the first cold war, and after one last German backerei I crossed the now inconspicuous border.
I was going to treat myself to some Czech home comforts at a penzion, but the one I aimed for turned out to be closed so had a nice wild camp instead, just me and some deer, and the fireflies

Scenery is pleasant if unspectacular, lots of fading yellow and orange buildings in villages with inevitable fish ponds but no obvious helpful water supplies. Somehow managed to do more vertical metres here than in Switzerland?

Yesterday Martin and Tesh cycled out a few km from Prague to escort me into the city, where I have been able to buy some spare bolts to stop my front pannier rack falling off.
Now the bike is locked away for a few days respite before the next sprint to Berlin...