Legally we're still in the German state of Saxony, but the region here is better known as the Lusatian Highlands. Currently it's the border between Germany and the Czech Republic, but it has been borderland of one sort or another for all of European history, often contested by lords and peopled by refugees.
Kottmar in particular was home, centuries ago, to a race of peaceful mountain dwarves. Later an invading force of elves settled the moutainside and displaced the dwarves, forcing them to live underground. These guys fought a lot. Not sure who prevailed; they're not around anymore, but they did leave one notable reminder of their conflict -- a gash in the mountainside caused by a forcefully-flung dwarven spear that missed its mark. Subterranean water sprayed from this hole and gave birth to the River Spree, which flowed down the mountainside and then north, intersecting the E10 again in Spremberg and Cottbus, tumbling along through the Spreewald and to Berlin, finally ending at the Havel next to Grunewald.
The Spree really does start here on Kottmar, and the above story is a rough translation of the historical marker plaque there. (As you can see, the Spreequelle has also been repurposed as a monument to the fallen German soldiers of WWI. There are many of these. WWII monuments are much rarer.)
Briefly paralleling the nascent Spree, the trail heads down the mountainside and through our last two German towns. Neugersdorf is hot and bleak, nothing open except for a communist-era throwback food store. We make sandwiches and eat them in the playground of a public housing complex. Seifhennersdorf is perched on the mountainside, great views and lots of lovely abandoned buildings. A market in the town center provides us with excellent bee-sting cake and espresso.
Then just a few minutes down the trail, we're back on the road for an unceremonious crossing of the national border:
No paperwork, no fireworks, no oom-pah band... just a noisy construction project on the north end of the dingy Czech town of Varnsdorf.
After getting pretty cozy in Germany, it's alienating to suddenly be in the Czech Republic. We figured a town with a name like Varnsdorf would still be a little bit German, but it's not. Our language skills are no good here, and our euros are no good either, so instead of checking into an inn for a nice bed and hot dinner, we run and hide in the mountains, where we make camp and study Czech.
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