Andy's Travel Updates

Photos: Cycling in Spain

mrandrew — Tue, 28 Oct 2014 08:10:00 GMT

Cycling Pico de Veleta (the highest road in Europe)

mrandrew — Tue, 28 Oct 2014 08:02:00 GMT

The Pico de Veleta is a 3400m peak in Spain. Cycling from Gibraltar it is a 2700m climb (over 40kms) which is considered one of the hardest in the world. It sounded like a great climb to do near the end of my tour.

The only forecast I could find said it would be a maximum of 3 degrees at the top so I packed all my warm clothes and even worked out how to use my travel towel as a face mask. I was also a little concerned about being let through a checkpoint at 2700m and about the road surface from that point.

The first 500m were tough going - not that it was steep but my knee was sore from falling the day before (I soon had blood coming through the bandage and trickling down to my sock). Once I got into a rhythm I could enjoy the cycling and the the views which became more and more impressive. I tried not to think about how much climbing I had in front of me - even half way up it was daunting to think about.

At the checkpoint they were happy for me to push my bike under the barrier. From there the road became patchy - mostly it was good but there were sections that had eroded. I only saw a couple of other cyclists (on mountain bikes) and there were a number of hikers - I had been worried how isolated it would be so this was very reassuring.

I noticed the air becoming a little thinner but cycling slower was enough to counteract it. The temperature was much warmer than the forecast I had seen - above 10 degrees.

The last 300m took a full hour. I was off and on the bike as most of the road was too badly eroded to cycle on. Large sections of the road were covered in snow. By the top I was really just pushing my bike and ended up leaving it in view of the peak and scrambling up the last few metres. The view was spectacular but I unfortunately didn't have much time to enjoy it.

The descent started slowly through the rough terrain and snow. Once I reached the checkpoint I realised I had a 30km descent in front of me on nice roads with very little traffic. I had been so focused on the climb that it hadn't crossed my mind. It was great fun. The views were also spectacular looking out over Granada.

Stage 5: From Girona to Copenhagen

mrandrew — Fri, 24 Oct 2014 16:27:00 GMT

Cycling around the edge of Barcelona I was glad it was a Sunday and the traffic wasn't bad. I realised Sunday was a good day to go through busy areas, especially in Spain.

The third day was as good as it gets and I was elated. The sun came out but it wasn't hot. The road surfaces were mostly good, there were very few cars and the views were great. I dropped my bags at the hotel and cycled another 20kms to a lookout. On the way I was stopped by a roadblock but I couldn't understand why – the policemen tried to explain but my Spanish wasn't good enough. Eventually I heard a car rev and peel out further up the road and knew it was something car related. It was the VW rally team testing their car in preparation for a race. After about 20 minutes the road reopened but I had to stop again up the road and had a good chat to a couple of the team members.

Two days later I stopped in a bakery for a quick resupply. The baker's husband – a retired man – started a conversation so I sat and spoke to him for half an hour in Spanish. I told him what I was doing (which he excitedly relayed to any customers who came in) and he told me all about the town and the region of Spain.

I came to a warm part of Spain with temperatures in the mid 30s. I learnt to take a nice 2 hour break at lunch – usually at a restaurant in a small town that are popular for simple 3 course meals. It was hard to find dinner earlier than 9pm so I had to adjust to the local routine.

On the third particularly warm day I very nearly cut the day short, thinking it is too hot. I actually started down a road to closer hotel for about 100m then remembered that I still regret that type of decision from 4 years ago. And it paid off: the day ended with a lovely descent to a series of waterfalls. The temperature dropped very quickly as I approached it so if felt just like an oasis after 3 very hot days. I cycled alongside waterfalls and lakes for the last 10 kilometres of the day with plenty of breaks for photos.

The next day nearly started out very badly as I left my wallet and credit card on the hotel counter... luckily the receptionist ran it out to me before I cycled off. I enjoyed a good tailwind and covered good ground. It made for one of the most enjoyable days. I was thinking about trying a 200km day and feeling like I didn't want the cycling to end. However the heat returned and made a medium sized climb particularly hard that afternoon. It took me a full hour and it was the first time I ran out of water. I got very strange looks at the small convenience store where I bought several litres of various drinks and sat on the ground outside drinking them.

After a recovery day I had another tough ride with 15-20kms of rough trails. It took a lot of effort to stay upright and was stressful. It was a relief to reach the outskirts of Granada. Mentally I was a bit switched off and didn't see a tram line where I slipped and fell. I was able to bandage my knee and get back on my bike. It would be a full 2 months (and several trips to the doctor) before my knee recovered from a staph infection.

Stage 4: From Grenoble (France) to Girona (Spain)

mrandrew — Fri, 26 Sep 2014 19:14:00 GMT

From the Alps I followed the Rhone for 3 days to Arles. I decided to cycle slightly shorter distances each day to have more time for sightseeing; this also allowed me to keep my average speed up a bit higher which made the cycling more enjoyable.

In Arles, I was staying with the parents of a friend. He had also been visiting them and I was unfortunately going to miss him by one day. But (unlucky for him and) lucky for me, his flight was cancelled due to a pilot strike so he was still there. That was a very nice suprise when I got there, as was discovering that his parents have a number of holiday apartments that they lease out - so I had a 1 bedroom apartment to myself. We played boules with the whole family which felt very French. It was great to stay with a local family - both to get a sense of life in France and to have a break from hotels.

From Arles, the first 50kms was ideal scenery and weather. There was even a prevailing tailwind and a few times I found that when the wind is going exactly the same direction as you it is a little bit surreal because it suddenly goes silent and feels like the wind has stopped... until you realise you are coasting along at 25kms barely pedalling.

I hadn´t given any thought to reaching the Mediterranean but first seeing it gave me a sense that I had reached a milestone. Within 2 minutes first seeing the ocean there was some deep sand on the road over which I felt I did very well to stay upright (wobbling and losing momentum but reaching the other side just before I was about to tip over), but I´m sure it didn´t look that way to the considerable number of people in front of whom I made a spectacle of myself. It also started to rain, so after about an hour I found a hotel earlier than planned.

The next day I was cycling along the Canal de Midi and some other canals in that area which was nice. Apparently trees were first planted along the canal 400 years ago to give shade - there are still trees there giving good shade and making nice scenery. Cycle routes through France are patchy (so I was only occasionally following a designated bike route). The best signposted section I saw (without about 6 signs over 1km) included 2 flights of stairs.

Crossing into Spain, I was very far East in the Pyrenees so it was only about 500m altitude up a very quiet bike path (with views of an impressive castle). Knowing bike paths could be patchy I didn´t book a hotel for that night until I saw it was okay (but before I reached Spain and lost reception). I booked it thinking I would just have enough time to reach Girona... then reaching what I think was the border (there weren´t any signs) the trail suddenly became unsealed, fairly rough and steep. The first 8kms into Spain were like this and fairly tough going - I had to change into my non-clip-in shoes and a quite a few times get off and push. It was a relief to reach civilization after not seeing anyone for about 3 hours - and suddenly they were speaking Spanish.

Stage 4 by the numbers (because everybody loves stats):
Days cycled: 7

Distance cycled: 730kms

Cumulative stats:

Distance cycled: 2,900kms

Days cycled: 27

Punctures: 0

Photos: Cycling in France

mrandrew — Fri, 26 Sep 2014 08:29:00 GMT

Cycling in the French Alps

mrandrew — Wed, 17 Sep 2014 19:04:00 GMT

Being ahead of schedule I decided to take a week off from cycling across Europe to go cycling in the Alps. One of the main differences being that I could stay in the one place for 2 or 3 days instead of packing up every day. It didn't go quite as planned because I came down with a cold that took me quite a while to shake. But I was still able to do some of the famous climbs in the area:

Col de Petite St Bernard: is a long gentle climb (it is 28kms and barely gets over 6%). It took me across the border into Italy where I had a gelato. The descent was as good as it gets - 6% over 28kms is great fun. I enjoyed it so much I let myself get a bit cold which I think is when I got sick.

Col des Cyclotourists: is by no means famous. I had a couple of hours to spare one afternoon and saw the squiggly lines on the map that looked interesting. It was nice to be off the beaten track - I only saw one other cyclist but lots of farmers - and it was a very enjoyable climb.

Col du Madeleine - this was a challenging climb. It was the steepest climb I had done with luggage and I still had a bit of a cold. I was puffed before the official climb even started and for most of the climb I was focused on surviving the climb. There were places - a good chunk of the middle of the climb - where I was comfortable, but otherwise it was hard.

Col du Galibier (via col du Telegraph) - is famously a stunning climb and a good challenge. I had sat out 4 straight days at a hotel 300m from the start of the climb waiting to recover from a cold. Seeing the perfect weather and watching cyclists start out each day was painful. I was lucky to recover in time for the last day of good weather before rain was forecast. The climb lived up the the hype with stunning and varying scenery. Enjoying the view at the top I lost track of time and ended up having to rush down and to another town (at the base of Col du Glandon) to get there before dark.

Col du Glandon - this was my favourite climb. The gradient gradually increases to over 10% in the last 3kms. I was over the cold and it was my last climb so I could give it 100%. In the first half hour I felt great so decided to do it without a break (the first big climb I'd done with luggage without a rest). I kept up a reasonable pace (and overtook some cyclists without luggage which is always fun) until the last 2kms where I hit a bit of a wall and then peddled the last bit as slowly as possible without tipping over.

From the top of Col du Glandon I cycled up to the Col du la Croix de Fer (which is nearby and just a little bit higher). The descent down the other side towards Grenoble was stunning.

Stage 3: The Swiss Alps

mrandrew — Mon, 8 Sep 2014 07:52:00 GMT

This stage was from Ulm in Southern Germany to a town near Annecy in France. It followed the Rhine through Germany, Austria, Liechtenstein and into the Swiss Alps - then over the Alps, following the Rhone, Lake Geneva and into France. Here are some highlights:

My stay in Ulm with an old friend was a much needed break. When I first arrived, Anja was a bit confused by my strange request for lots of ice (she thought I meant ice cream) for an ice bath to help my legs recover. My room was very special - the attic of a hundred year old house with beautiful exposed timber beams and a view of the tallest church in the world. One of Anja's friends was a keen cyclist (strangely he also had the idea of cycling to Gibraltar) who gave me some great tips and convinced me to change my route to go through more of Switzerland instead of Italy.

Days 1-3: took me along the Dunube, through rolling hills and along the Rhine. As I got closer to the Alps the scenery was became increasingly stunning. Staying overnight in Liechtenstein I noticed an interesting vibe - people seemed affluent and carefree (it is a very wealthy country). It was also very expensive and I had fun finding ways to stretch my budget (twice I ordered the cheapest thing on the menu without bothering to translate and both times it turned out to be a sausage with fries).

Rest/weather day: the last hour of day 3 had been one of the few in rain and it continued the next day so I took a break. It snowed higher up which would make the scenery even better.

Day 4: was the most I had ever climbed in a day with 2 significant mountain passes. I wasn't game to book accommodation as I didn't know if my legs could do it (I had the choice to stay between the passes). The first climb was about 1,200m to Oberalpass (to 2,046m). About 3 quarters of the way up I began doubting I could do the second climb - but when I realised I was on the steepest part of the climb and it would soon ease back to 6% I knew I could do it. I was now thankful for the nasty headwinds earlier in the trip that had got my legs into shape.

Then I descended to 1,400m, crossed a valley and climbed Furkapass (to 2,436m). It wasn't until I reached the top and was surprised by how out of breath I was that I realised how hard I had pushed myself. I had now crossed the Alps!

Side trip: with a day to spare I took a side trip up Nufenen Pass without luggage. It was one of the most interesting climbs I have done with constantly changing scenery. Near the top I said hello to a group I had met the previous day and I noticed one of them was pushing her bike up the hill (and I'm pretty sure she was gaining on her friend).

Day 5: was 203kms to Lake Geneva - just 1km short of the longest ride I have ever done. There was almost no climbing and the roads were mostly great. It was a big step up in distance but was by no means the toughest day.

I was expecting day 6 to be relatively easy, hugging the lake to Geneva. However the traffic by the river was frustrating (sometimes stopping every hundred metres (getting my >20kg bike & luggage started that often isn't much fun)) so I ventured into the hills. I didn't pick the best routes and found some steep roads. I also found it was now 10-15 degrees warmer on this side of the Alps (high 20's) which I wasn't used to and I suffered. I persevered up the hills thinking I would get a good descent - but again I didn't pick a great route and gave up most of the altitude on a ridiculous road that must have been about 20%. I was glad to have disc breaks but even so it was very hard work just to control a very slow descent.

Overnight in Geneva, I caught up with an old school friend who took me on a beautiful ride on the outskirts of town and had me over for dinner. It had been 8 days on my own so it was great to have a nice home cooked meal and company. He also gave me some great tips for my ride through the French Alps.

At breakfast I was amused by an Englishman at the next table striking up a conversation with a disinterested stranger about the relative price of a litre of beer (yes a litre of beer) in different countries and the drink driving laws in those countries.

Day 7: Rob and one of his friends came with me for most of the day to guide me into France. It was such a nice change to ride in a group: having people to talk to and not worrying about navigating. It was a bit more hilly than planned so we ran out of time to do Col de Aravis - I thought it would be the first time I would miss a hotel booking but realised I could take a flat road by Lake Annecy and get there in time. This was one of the nicest days of cycling I have done, with perfect weather (the first time I have seen AccuWeather use the phrase 'sunny and beautiful'), stunning scenery and even a tailwind.

Stage 3 by the numbers (because everybody loves stats):
Days cycled: 7

Distance cycled: 880kms

Total climbs (very approx): 8,000m

(Plus the side-trip up Nufenen was 40kms and a 1,100m climb without luggage)

Cumulative stats:

Distance cycled: 2,170kms

Days cycled: 20

Punctures: 0

Photos: Cycling in Switzerland

mrandrew — Mon, 8 Sep 2014 06:59:00 GMT

Stage 2: Berlin to Ulm (Southern Germany)

mrandrew — Wed, 27 Aug 2014 18:12:00 GMT

The first morning after 3 rest days wasn´t the easiest - I knew I was paying for the later nights and drinking more than the 'one or two' I had planned in Berlin (I had a great time staying with my cousin Carolyn and seeing Berlin). By the afternoon I was feeling better and enjoying it again.

The next morning I felt great and the cold weather and rain didn´t dampen my spirits. After the rain stopped the wind picked up and was one of the hardest headwinds have cycled into - through flat open fields without much to see except wind farms. Next I encountered some nasty cobbles and some muddy tracks (which my bike isn´t ideal for). Just when I felt like the day had thrown everything possible at me I saw a hill in front of me and realised I had to go up it and still had 30kms to go. Finally, the hotel seemed to have lost my reseration (and I didn´t have mobile internet) so I finished the day cycling around town looking for a hotel at 7:30, in the rain.

Exhausted, I called in sick the next day. I remembered it was 4 years to the day that I had got sick and spent 7 days stuck in a very small town in Germany.

The next day was my birthday and I felt better. In the afternoon the bike route I had been following suddenly turned into a steep mountain bike trail so I had to find a detour - which was about a 300m climb. It was hard work but satisfying and the descent was a thrill. Randomly that day I had a Magnum icecream and it had the word ´birthday´ (in English) written on the stick.

That night I stayed with a local family (Jana & Stefan) I had been lucky to meet the previous week. It was great to not be on my own for my birthday and to have a civilized dinner with them and their friends. They showed me around the town (and of course I got lot more out of it than looking around on my own) then took me to a famous french fries stand (I didn´t know where was such a thing) and for a drink. The next morning, Jana got up at 6 and made gluten-free muffins for me which was a nice birthday treat.

Day 4 was also very challenging with more hills and some poor trails. Over the days I had progressively become used to the poor trails and found myself cycling on some steep gravel trails that 2 weeks ago I would have thought were not possible without a mountain bike. There was one stretch in particular that was too steep to ride sitting down but standing up I would lose traction for part of each peddle stroke - I just made it to the top. A number of times during the day I almost lost control but somehow always managed to stay upright.

By mid-afternoon I realised I needed to be quick to get to the hotel by dark. I was on schedule with only an hour (mostly downhill) to go when I came to a ´no bicycles´sign on my intended route. I backtracked to 2 hotels I had seen but they were both full, then looked at the map for a detour which involved a couple more climbs. Digging deep and running on adrenaline I made it right on dusk.

Day 5 was an easy day - just 70kms on nicer trails. Stefan had told me that once I left former East Germany the trails would improve and he was right. That night I was hosted by some uni students from warmshowers.com - my first time using this site and a great experience. They showed me around Bamberg and by luck I was there during the town´s annual beer festival (similar to Octoberfest but less touristy) which was also a great experience. I tried some very nice beers.

I mentioned I hadn´t been on an autobahn so they took me on one - my first time in a car at over 160kms/hr. Max´s part time job was to rellocate rental cars (which in Germany means driving Audis and BMW on the autobahn) so I felt in safe hands. He had seen a coworker crash at over 200kms/hr so was careful going above 160.

Day 6 was another recovery day (80kms) through nice scenery followed by a sightseeing afternoon in Nuremberg.

Day 7 was 115kms but mostly on good surfaces so was easier than some of the previous days. There was about 1000m of ascending through rolling hills which was good practice for the alps and after the recovery days my legs coped pretty well.

By Day 8 I was looking forward to a couple of days rest in Ulm. It was along the Danube so a nice flat day through more nice scenery to finish.

Stage 2 by the numbers:

Days cycled: 8 (plus 1 sick day)

Distance cycled: 830kms

Slugs´ lives that were tragically and violently cut short: 5

Slugs who survived harrowing near-death experiences and were left to wonder why the wheel of fate that cruelly took their brothers left them behind (approx): 100

Cumulative stats:

Days cycled: 13

Distance cycled: 1,290kms

Ferry crossings: 2

Punctures: 0

Stage 1: cycling from Copenhagen to Berlin

mrandrew — Mon, 18 Aug 2014 07:02:00 GMT

Here are some highlights of my ride from Copenhagen to Berlin:

Day 2: My ride continued through beautiful scenery on good back roads in Zealand (the old one). There was a steady headwind for most of the day, which gave me a surreal experience crossing a bridge between islands. The bridge was 3kms and dead straight; cycling into a 20km headwind I really felt like I wasn't moving. I would cycle hard for a good 2 minutes, look up and see nothing to tell me I had moved.

Day 3: Having caught a ferry late the previous day, I was now in Germany. It wasn't quite as flat but the good roads and varied scenery continued.

I had lunch at a tiny roadside place (which was brilliant: a really good schnitzel for like €6!) where a German family shared my table and had a chat. They were interested in what I'm doing and told me about Germany, such as what it was like for Germans when the wall fell. By luck they live on my route (they were on holidays when I met them) and they invited me to stay with them after Berlin.

The day was further than I planned at 128kms. Around the 70km mark this freaked me out a bit (my longest ride in training was only 80kms). My legs held up surprisingly well; I felt like they were separate to me - carrying on without complaining while I was (for a couple of hours) losing the mental battle. They got me to Waren without incident and with daylight to spare.

Day 4: I found myself on a lot more dirt and cobblestone paths than planned. It made me glad with the bike and equipment I had picked and by the end of the day I was more comfortable on dodgy surfaces. A couple of times I lost traction on sandy dirt and learnt to move my weight to the wider front tire to recover.

Day 5: I passed a man cycling with his grandson and said hello. I stopped a couple of times and they passed me... So the 5th time we passed each other he stopped to talk. He told me to stop at a bakery in the next town so we had a good chat. He was interested in what I was doing; he had done some big rides when he was young (now in his 60s he was doing a 65km ride with his 8 year old grandson). The longest ride Manfrey (as I learnt his name was) did was 220kms in a day - I can only imagine what equipment was like for that 40 years ago!

He was very proud of his grandson cycling 65kms on a dodgy fold up bicycle. I think he hoped his grandson would do cycle touring further afield - where he had not been able to go himself due to the travel restrictions in East Germany during the Cold War.

Manfrey told the bakery staff what I was doing so they gave me some free pastries for the road. I arrived in Berlin and after passing through a lot of crowds, arrived at my cousin's house.

By the numbers (because everyone loves stats!):

Distance: 460kms

Days: 5

Longest day: 128kms (6 hours 40 mins)

Pastries consumed: 6

Day 1 - cycling from Copenhagen

mrandrew — Sun, 10 Aug 2014 05:29:00 GMT

I can't wait to get on the road. There is a severe weather warning (strong winds and thunderstorms) and I have a sore throat. I'm not sure if it's a cold or jet-lag (I arrived from Australia yesterday). The thought of delaying 1 day crosses my mind but I decide to risk it.

I'm cycling 70kms from Copenhagen down the East coast of Denmark. The forecast is for a 30km headwind to pick up mid-morning and thunderstorms from lunchtime. So I get up at 5 to try avoid the worst of it. I'm a bit slow to get out of the hotel (being my first pack (and also leave 1 sock behind)). The first 2 hours are easy riding out of Copenhagen and it feels great.

The wind picks up about 9 exactly as forecast and in places is intense. I'm glad to have smaller panniers (I think back to a day last trip when strong wind forced me to have a rest day because it could push me to the middle of the road). In some places it is actually easier to cycle up a hill where it is protected from wind - most peculiarly I'm dropping down a gear when I get to the top of a hill!

I feel a bit groggy at times but not sick - I think it was jet lag. By the last 10kms my legs are feeling it.

I get through the day without mechanical or navigational incident and arrive at lunch time. The rain starts within 2 seconds (that's not an exaggeration) of reaching my hotel.

In all, day 1 went very well!

Photos: Cycling Europe - the return journey

mrandrew — Thu, 31 Jul 2014 23:37:00 GMT

Solo cycling trip From Copenhagen to Gibraltar

Preparing for the return journey

mrandrew — Tue, 29 Jul 2014 23:23:00 GMT

I've embarked on the return journey, cycling from Copenhagen to Gibraltar. It's about a 6000km trip through 8 or 9 countries. Here are the main things I'm doing differently this time:

- This route will take me through Germany, Switzerland, Austria and Italy. I will also return to some of the same countries (France, Spain & Denmark) but will generally go through different areas.

- I've packed a little lighter - 40L instead of 56L panniers (11kgs instead of 14kgs). If you are that way inclined my full equipment list is here: http://www.crazyguyonabike.com/doc/mrandrewequip

- Unfortunately I'm starting much later in the year so I'm hoping to keep ahead of cold weather - especially in the Alps and Pyrenees.

- I'm on a steel framed 'AWOL'. It is a heavier but more leisurely bike than my Tricross, which I hope will mean I can comfortably do more hours in the saddle.

This time, I'm not intimidated by the ride so I can focus more on enjoying it. For example, last time I saw food primarily as the carbs I needed to get through and enjoying the cuisine was secondary - this time it is the other way round.

Switzerland, France, Belgium, Luxembourg and Holland by bicycle

mrandrew — Sat, 28 Aug 2010 10:15:00 GMT

Eight to ten hours of cycling is a lot of thinking time. Too much. After 3 months I noticed the most common thought was a ridiculous breakdown of the day's ride into smaller targets, 'If I cycle at over 20kms/hr for the next hour then I'll be half way there before midday'. Occasionally there was elation, 'this ride is the best thing I've ever done!', most often that followed a really hard, unpleasant ride. I knew it was a hard day if my mind broke it into short sections, 'just two more kilometers at this speed', 'just five minutes more'. It's amazing how pushing yourself through those 2kms can add up - looking back at it is quite surreal. _____________________________________________________________________________________ After Nimes, I trained it to Grenoble for a 3 week roadtrip with Susan and Tom. They say every good road trip has a good inside joke and by the end we had plenty. Tom and I did some of Europe's most famous climbs together - rides that I will never forget. _______________________________________________________________________ I left Susan and Tom in Barcelona and caught a train back to Nimes. A week or so later I was in Geneva ready for a rest day. It was a good chance to find a bike shop to get them to look at a couple of nagging things. So I thought, but it ended up being a week long series of problems - a disaster really. Accomodation isn't cheap in Geneva and I actually would have saved both time and money by buying a new bike instead of fixing the old one. As frustrating as that was, getting back on my bike made everything better. I headed to the hills and back into France. _________________________________________________________________________________ Leaving the Alps I was aware I'd probably never again be so cycling-fit on a good sized mountain. So I made the most of the last climb up a 700m climb that suited me well. I passed quite a few other cyclists and got some gratifying comments when they saw my luggage. _______________________________________________________________________________________ Another week through France and a week through Luxembourg and Belgium wizzed past, cycling 800kms a week. I met some friends in Holland, joining them for their University orientation week parties and met all the people going through their house. _______________________________________________________________________________________ With only 1,200kms to go I was sad to think how soon it would be over - I planned to do a 1,000km week. However my luck, with not getting sick for the whole trip, ran out and I spent that week in bed in a very small town on the border of Holland and Germany.

France by bicycle

mrandrew — Thu, 22 Jul 2010 21:24:00 GMT

Having climbed the Pyrenees from Spain, the first order of business was a beautiful descent into France. There wasn't an official border but there was a sudden change in the architecture, the road, the language and (of great interest to a cycling tourist) the bakeries.

Once in France I headed to the Col du Tourmalet, one of the most famous mountains in the cycling world. I did the 19km climb (the same climb that could decide this year's tour on Thursday) at just under 10km/hr without stopping (and without luggage). The views were great and the ride itself was brilliant. A local Frenchman slowed to talk to me for half an hour, telling me all about the climb. He had first ridden it when he was 15 and (now in his 40s) rides it every week. Some Aussies I met at the top told me Lance had been there the day before. Apparently he slowed down to cycle beside a car and chat, until the girl in the car mentioned her husband... at which point Lance said he needed to get back to training.

After Tourmalet I had a date to meet Susan and Tom in the Alps and I had some nice long rides on the way there. One morning I realised I had left my water bottle on the roadside and decided to go back for it. I didn't realise it would add a hilly 25kms to a 135km day. By the end of the day I was tired so to save backtracking up a hill (after taking a wrong turn to a dead end) I asked a local if it was possible to take a shortcut along a small dirt road. They seemed to say yes so I did, but soon found the road got worse then became a vineyard. It was probably terrible for my bike but it was all downhill so I pressed on and made it through the vineyard to another road. It was kinda fun.

In France I found the kms are much slower going because the towns are closer together (often less than 5kms apart) and I needed to check the map more frequently. For example, a 135km day could take 9 hours on the road and 7 hours in the saddle (which is enough to get a sore backside!).

One day I hurt my wrist by lifting my bike at an awkward angle. For a couple of weeks I couldn't lift anything with my right hand but I found I could still cycle. Only I couldn't go uphill in the usual way(ie. sitting down, which requires your wrists to keep your weight forward). I had to stand out of the saddle which is faster but much harder work. It added an extra challenge to a 145km day, into Nimes. 50kms out of Nimes one of my panniers (bags) got caught in the spoke - because of how the bike moves side to side when climbing out of the saddle. It tore a hole in the pannier and warped (bent) the wheel. It also made a great sound when it got caught. But it left me on the side of the road (in a country where I don't speak the language) thinking I had broken bags and a broken bike... and that I was unable to move either of them because I couldn't use my right hand. For a moment, it was a thrill.

Fortunately, swapping the left and right panniers kept them out of the spokes and I could tape up the hole to stop anything falling out. The back wheel wasn't straight and rubbed against the brakes but I decided
to risk riding on it into Nimes.

Spain by bicycle

mrandrew — Fri, 25 Jun 2010 00:33:00 GMT

After only 5kms of cycling I already felt I had accomplished plenty: I had cycled in 2 countries, got lost twice, gone the wrong way down a one way street and had cycled across an airport runway. Not a bad start! Shorty afterwards, a local saw me looking lost and directed me to a bike bath from where things were much more settled.

Three weeks later I had my first misadventure (unless you count my misadventure in pursuit of a hamburger that took me two hours, cost €30 and almost left me stranded without accomodation, which is another story entirely). On a quiet road north of Madrid I had my first flat and discovered my bike pump was broken. So I had to walk. I could not leave the bags on my bike because the weight would damage the rim with the flat tire, so I used my belt to tie the bags together and carry over my shoulder as I walked (in the rain) to the nearest town... where a helpful local lent me a bike pump. I even got a sticker on my bike from one of the local kids who stood watching me change the tire.

Other than that minor incident it has so far been a brilliant trip. The Spanish people are always very pleased to have a visitor in their little towns and are interested to hear what I am doing. They are eager to help and give me suggestions on where to ride and what to see.

The weather has brought a few good challenges. In the first two weeks it was warm - up to 37 (which is not unbearable for an Australian). The first very warm day I was climbing to a summit above the tree line (meaning there was no shade) when I saw an ambulance and a dozen motorcyclists standing around. They stopped me and asked to borrow my water - one of the motorcyclists was dehydrated, lying on the road under the shade of the ambulance. He seemed to get better after drinking some water. But it did leave me pondering various oddities, such as: why didn't the ambulance have water?

After the heat it was cold, very suddenly. Just 2 days after cycling in 36 degree heat I was on a summit where it was 6. Climbing up to this summit I finally overtook another cyclist. Sure he may have been on a mountain bike and at times swerving wildly in a way that indicated he didn't entirely know what he was doing and sure, maybe it took me the whole 8km climb to pass him, but at least I was no longer THE slowest thing on the road. I saw him again on the way down the other side, he was walking and pushing his bike so I asked if he was alright. He said 'I am like an icecream': the windchill was really something.

Then the rain came, for almost a week. There were even flood warnings. Actually it wasn't unpleasant cycling in the rain. Except on one particular day when it was both cold and raining. My hands were numb and every bump on he road (it was a bumpy road) was painful. The same day I had run out of cash (due to hotels that didn't accept cards and there being no ATMs) which was an added worry and was also out of food. Mentally it was tough. In various attempts to lift my spirits I tried singing, smiling and laughing, none of which worked. What did help was pedalling fast enough that my legs warmed me up while riding the brakes to prevent a wind chill. And yes I needed to buy new brake pads the next day.

Lastly the weather was windy. I had a tough day riding into a head/cross wind but still managed my first 100km day (it happened to be exact: I arrived 30 metres short so cycled a few extra metres to bring up the 100kms). Then I had only 80kms left to France, the forecast for the next few days was ideal and I felt like nothing could stand between me and France. But the next day the wind was fierce. When I was off the bike there were gusts strong enough to push me off balance and when I was on the bike it pushed me to within an inch of the edge of the road and into the middle of the lane. After this happened a
couple of times I decided to stop before I had an accident or was arrested for what must have looked like drink-driving a bicycle. I sat in a park for a couple of hours hoping it would die down and in disbelief that the wind was stopping me from cycling.

The next day the gusts were gone and the weather was absolutely perfect for my first climb up the Pyrenees. There were wonderful views but I was enjoying the ride too much to stop for a photo. I held a steady (slow) 10km/hour for a one hour climb (without a break) to the Puerto de Larrau (10kms at about 6%). I was almost disapointed when the climb ended (and cycled down a little way to take a photo and cycle back up) but then I realised I had just climbed the Pyrenees and I had just cycled across Spain!

Goodbye hospitality of the Americas, Hello worst hostel ever!

mrandrew — Thu, 24 Jun 2010 00:03:00 GMT

My third trip to Boquete, Panama was just one week to see my friends and my Panamanian family and to learn a little more Spanish. I half expected to have overstayed my welcome with the family but they were just as welcoming and I really felt part of the family. They seemed unconcerned I had forgotten to return their house key the previous time and said it was now 'Andrew's key'.

Next, in Washington I lucked out and was invited to stay with some Americans whom I had met in Nicaragua. Both of them had worked in the Whitehouse so their work stories (and work gossip) were particularly interesting and a unique insight into Washington. Even though I had only met them for 3 hours in Nicaragua they left a key out for me to arrive while they were at work and also insisted on shouting me for dinners (they credited their hospitality to their Indian heritage).

In New York I visited an Australian friend for his birthday and met his fiancé. We saw a baseball game and did some sightseeing (the Guggenheim was great). The food was also great - it's much better when you go with a local. I was also busy making use of their internet, making plans for a cycling tour.

On the flight to London I was too excited to sleep, I was hoping to get a lot done in just a few days and to then be on my way to Spain with a bicycle. Having missed a night of sleep I went to bed early, but it turned out to be the worst night in a hostel ever. There was a group of young Australian guys in the dorm and some of them had their bags stolen from the room. So there was a lot of talking and excitement until about 11. A couple of hours later I was woken by people having sex on the bunk underneath me. It was just as unsubtle and unclassy as you might imagine. The room was well lit and everyone in the dorm was woken up. Afterwards some of his friends cheered; I guess they didn't hear that during the sex she whispered "you're really bad at this".

Shortly afterwards the lights were on again and there was drunken theorizing about who stole their things - if it was the Americans or the Italians or the Israili guy - and what they were going to do if they caught them. The lights were on again every couple of hours for more of the same. I got to sleep at about 5 and the next day changed hostels.

After a couple of days visiting bike shops in London I found one I liked qnd had good prices. I needed a bike and all of the accessories so they offered me a discount if I bought it all from him. After comparing prices I told him I would buy everything through him so he handed me a big empty box and said "go for your life". Within an hour I had filled it with the bits and pieces I had been researching for the last few days - a trip to the bike shop doesn't get any better than that!

Nicaragua

mrandrew — Thu, 1 Apr 2010 04:26:00 GMT

Easter week is the busiest time of year to cross the border, so I got up at 3:30 and missed the worst of the crowds. I befriend a ´Nica´ on the bus from Liberia (in Costa Rica) and was able to join some of his friends further ahead in the line.I spent four hours chatting to him and his friends as we waited. They were also able to help me with currency as I had been foolish enough to think the immigration office would accept Costa Rican or Nicaraguan money. I have since learnt that in Nicaragua most things are paid in US$. Interestingly the government pays its employees in Nicaraguan Cordobas but then people must pay their taxes in US$. Consequently changing money appears to the be profession of choice.

I went swimming in the crater of a volcano with some people from Spanish school. It is big lake and is used like a beach. It is usually very busy during Easter week but a young man had drowned the day before - apparently he was a 19 year old who went to save 2 younger kids who could not swim. So there weren´t too many people swimming. When we came back from our swim we saw a kid lying on the ground and heard that he also drowned. He was 15.

The home-stay house I am staying in for a week is a sprawling one story house. There are two small outdoor courtyards and I don´t know how many bedrooms. The front door leads into an enormous room - the nicest in the house - a little used sitting room that feels like a shrine with plenty religious paraphernalia. There is a certain sadness to the house, perhaps because the big house is now very empty. The pride of the family is that the sister of my host is a nun in Managua (another sister who is a money changer also had an honourable mention).

Although big, the house is by no means luxurious. The bedrooms don´t have proper windows - just patterns of gaps between the cement blocks (without glass) facing the central courtyards. There is no hot water and to no washing machine (so I get to use a corrugated surface to wash my clothes by hand). There are no ceilings, just high roofs made from a patchwork of aluminium, tiles, wooden blanks and some bamboo. The first day I was in the house I saw what I assumed was a bird flying above the bathroom, beneath the high roof. The second day I saw the same creature flying around my bedroom. I looked more closely and when it stopped I noticed it hung upside down from the roof and was in fact a small bat.

I have a new favourite phrase of ´Spanish gone wrong´. Replacing ´I am going to Columbia for 3 tables´ and ´Can you change 4 rooms for 1 pain?´. A guy at the school thought he had been telling people that he needed exercise but discovered he had actually been telling everyone he needed exorcism.

Surviving the Gringo Trail during spring break

mrandrew — Sun, 28 Mar 2010 05:59:00 GMT

Finally I made it out of Panama. I went to see Volcano Arenal but I´m not sure there was a volcano there - only clouds. Monteverde was a nicer experience, although cloudy there was plenty to see: sloths, tarantulas, quetzals and lots of green.

One afternoon at Monteverde I started walking to a San Luis waterfall with 2 Canadians from the hostel. We hailed one of the few cars that passed us and they gave us a lift. There were already 4 people so 2 of us had to go in the boot (it was a 4WD). The car belonged to an Australian who was driving from Canada to Panama and invited people from hotels to join him along the way. The waterfall turned out to be a long hike so we would not have made it without the car. Even after driving down unsigned dirt roads (we had to ask for directions several times) there was more of a hike, so reaching it felt like an achievement and made swimming under the 90m waterfall all the more fun.

Checking out of Monteverde, I asked at the hostel reception about buses heading North. As I did, there happened to be 2 Italian girls asking the same question - they had been at reception for 40 minutes trying to figure out how: the bus was booked out and a private shuttle required 3 people. So I shared a car with them and spent the next couple of days at Rincon de Vieja volcano. We did a tour of the volcano and spent the nights talking about all things Italian over numerous bottles of red wine (I learnt much more about Italy in the 2 days than when I went to Italy). Somehow the lodge had no Americans staying there - literally everyone was European except for me - which was a surprise and a nice change from the likes of Arenal during spring break.

From Rincon de Vieja I was offered a ride to Liberia by someone who overheard me asking if the taxi was really going to cost $30 (a lot of money in Central America (a five hour bus trip costs $5)). He worked for Thrify car rentals and had just dropped a car off for my Italian friends. We had a good chat about Costa Rica, about how he was trying to become a police detective and about his gun collection.

Leaving Rincon de Vieja, the receptionist was able to book me a hotel room in Liberia for half the price listed in the guide book. In Liberia the hotel owners spent much of the day sitting in the hotel restaurant and were keen to chat. They warned me there were delays crossing the border to Nicaragua and saved me wasting a day there.

Three Birthdays and a Funeral

mrandrew — Fri, 19 Mar 2010 12:34:00 GMT

After staying with a Panamanian family in Boquete for 6 weeks I am now an adopted part of their family. They insist that I come back in ten years time with some kids, a wife and my by-then-old travelling boots (because you apparently can't buy good work boots in Panama). For 2 of the 6 weeks, I stayed with the grandparents of the family - with 9 children it is a big family and their house was always busy with family dropping by.

I was there for birthdays, for minor childhood milestones of their grandkids and also for the death of a daughter in law. She died of a heart attack on the first day of school (she was a teacher) - her 6 year old daughter came back from her first day of year 1 to learn that her Mother had died. The daughter could partially understand what dying meant, but at times she would ask about it. I could barely stand to look at the husband who lost his wife, it was just too sad.

I also learnt that theirs was the fifth family to settle in Boquete. I heard stories of a nearby mansion (which the elderly owner now opens to the public as 'my garden is your garden') that was forcibly possessed by the military government in the 70s. It was in view of my host's house and in the 70s the guards would sometimes threaten to shoot her kids for staring at them. I also had a special conversation with one of their daughters about her troublesome 14 month son who made her exhausted. I mentioned that his incredible 'curiousity' meant he was going to be very smart when he grew up - although an offhand comment I think she took it to heart as a purpose behind all her hard work. And I'm proud to say all of this was in Spanish :P

I also discovered Boquete was a town of just the right size for great rumours. When some 15 year olds from the Spanish school got in trouble I heard 3 different accounts: That they had Marijuana found by the teachers but the police were not involved, that they punched a policewoman when she caught them with drugs or (from the most reliable source) that they were caught by the police for having alcohol and bribed them to stay out of jail.