Dobri den, guten morgen, allo, ahoi, voila. #3 and I'm not even in Austria any more. I know! Well, here's how it happened.

But first, reflections on Czech Republic: big, very big and very hot, also sometimes very windy, and with winding roads, knee-crushing hills and wonderful thrills, many many Skodas, beautiful waiting staff, general willingness to smile and communicate, despite deadpan exterior, huge snails, friendly drivers, delicious beer and tasty foods. Thank you Czech.

***

As soon as I got into Austria, the weather perked up, and I immediately started thinking along the lines of hey, maybe Austria is the pleasantest country in the world. It has pleasant sunsets, pleasant fields replete with pleasant sunflowers. All it's lacking thus far is a horde of pleasant pheasants.

Speaking of game, actually, throughout the trip I've seen probably millions of those signs which tell you to watch out for springing deer, lest one leap in front of you at high speed. Well, I hadn't seen any until I got into Austria. Then, within two hours of entering the country, I saw two! The sad element of the anecdote is that they were both dead. Sorry for that.

In Las an der Thaya, though, I did see this wonderful red building, which I assume pertains to some sort of religious traditions. But assumptions can turn you into an ass so stay away from them.

A wise woman once told me that if you're good to mama, mama's good to you. Well, it appears that if you say hello to Austria, Austria says hello to you.

Like France and Germany, it does sunflowers and windmills in a big way. Some people say that windfarms are hideous things which pollute the view for the eye balls. On the contrary, I find them slightly and becoming. They put horizontal things into perspective, because they are so vertical.

So then I got into Vienna, or Wien, as it is called in the national language. It is huge and mighty and grandiose and massive. It has a glorious market and ridiculous buildings, squares and statues. Very spectacular, and apparently there's more to it than meets the eye. Here's parliament:

At first I was just looking at the façades, and being impressed by them. Then I started to look deeper than the bricks and mortar, beyond the various metals used to construct and sculpt such marvellous horse and human shapes. And you know what I saw? What I saw was emotion, true life and vitality. I saw real life humans and real lifely beasts and horses caught in a real life, true to life, human-beast-horse narrative, actually happening in real life.

What is this horse thinking? Is it happy? Has it ever played golf - has it even played polo?

I don't know. But do you know what I mean though.

And for example maybe this woman's like, hey all these men keep trying to use me as their muse, well it don't amuse me to abuse me.

And her compatriot's like hey gurl that's cool, they'll keep coming but you let them know what's on and what's not. I'm by your side, sis.

And here are the men, brawling for her bosom. Look at them go, muscles rippling, virility gushing from their voracious eating -holes.

"Get down, you brute. I saw her first!", this male might be saying.

"Hey men, I've got a frothing set of hounds here and I'm not afraid to deploy them, so get yer beta-male hands off my prize," this male might say in response.

This naïve competitor might be attempting to use rhetoric in the face of brutish alpha-malism in order to wit his way to the top.

Eventually, this stone lady wins the heart and mind of the first woman, with a momentary flash of wondrous side-boob. Unfortunately, neither of them can move to consummate their mutual fancy, as they're both literally part of different buildings, and quite far apart. A stonecold tragedy.

This one's for Iggy. I didn't dine here, but I did use their wifi without asking. Score.

After gambolling round the streets of Vienna for a couple of hours, and paying through the teeth for a sour-tasting (both literally and figuratively) coffee, I put together a picnic and enjoyed it on the bank of a Viennese canal. Austrian cheese, Hungarian sossij, Italian wine and also some bread. And grapes.

On my way out of the city, I met Laura (or Lara?), who asked with a smile where I was going, and then showed me how to get there. Vielen Dank.

Unfortunately, due to severe weather conditions, and the consequent flooding of Eurovélo 6, I was forced to swim the 80km to Bratislava. This here is a picture of the flooding. Nope, that's not the river - that's a torrential Viennese puddle.

Ha ha, I'm only joking. I actually cycled with two Parisian chaps who were going the same way. We spoken in broken French, German and English.

Almost in Slovakia! and I saw this architectural gem, atop a mighty crag. Really enjoying buildings, I am.

This is another place on the river, where I stopped to eat grapes and wait for the French boys to catch up. But they never did. I just hope they didn't melt away in the evening sun...

Bratislava from a distance:

Bratislava from a bit closer, and a bit later (you can see that because the sun is lower and it is darker).

And this is where I ate, in the 'historical city'. It really is very pretty indeed. Slight drawback that during my couple of hours riding around, I saw many groups of rowdy lairy English males, gulping cheap beer and gawping at passers-by. Oh well! Lovely city. Tricky to camp in, but accommodating otherwise.

See you soon!