STRASBOURG, FRANCE

My daytrip into France was unexpected - as many excellent travel adventures are. As I was cycling down the east bank of the Rhine River, I saw a tall, bearded gentleman with a backpack and asked if there was a campground nearby. He eyed me a little strangely and said, "are you traveling on your bike?" his English was excellent - as it was for many German's I met.

"Yes I am," I began, "but the legs have had enough today."

He paused, as though considering something, before saying, "would you care to stay with my family for a night or two?"

Foisting myself on a nice German family for a few nights made me feel a little uneasy, but it was an incredibly genuine experience waiting to happen. "I'd love to. Thank you."

Mr. K introduced me to his wife and four sons who all welcomed like a lost relative who'd finally popped by to visit. I stayed in a spare bedroom of their modest house and had a wonderful dinner. I'd told them of my trip so far (which was only about two weeks in) and that Geneva was my first big destination.

"Tomorrow, you can go for a look in Strasbourg," Mr. K said with a bright smile, "and you can stay another night here."

And that's how it happened. So although I was technically staying in Germany, this tactical strike into eastern France's largest city was made possible by this wonderfully generous German family. I still send them the odd Christmas card too.

It was moments like these that make you love the wonderful unpredictability of being on the road solo.