So Far Behind
As it is terribly obvious that I am well behind in my blog and writing on a Czech keyboard is more difficult than it sounds I am only going to post three short (or rather long stories) of things that have happened in between Paris and Prague. But before that let me just tell you all the route I have taken to span that rather large gap. I went north from Paris to Brugge which took 3 days of riding. From Brugge I rode to the capital of Brussels in one day and from there I ventured into the Netherlands to the sourthern city of Maastrict. From Maastrict I hoped a train and went all the way up to Hamburg and from there rode to Berlin and then finally onto my current location of Prague.
Now by just reading the overview you will totally miss out of the "fun" part but if you want to stop there I dont blame you, the rest of this entry is like one long running joke where Im the main attraction. So lets jump right in:
Story #1
Talk about a crazy day. Let's go back to the beginning and have a look: today was a travel day. I had ridden something close to 500+ km over the past week and I pulled into Maastricht tired and ready to crash. I figured, a day or two to recover and I would be ready to hit the road again. As luck would have it I quickly found the hostel and I could tell just by looking at it that it was a nice place. I walked in the door and went straight up to the receptionist. So much for luck, they only had only night available and at 30 euro/night. Eek. So much for all that recovery. I booked the night, caught a shower and put on dry clothes (I rode 120 km to Maastricht in the rain and I arrived, bags and all, soaked to the core, covered in mud and terribly cold). I then went inquiring after whether there was another hostel in or around town. They Gave me the names of 4 different places. I went to every single one of them, tired as I was. Every single one was booked solid!
At this point a little bit of panic set in. Alright, I told myself, I'm tired and don't feel like riding in the morning so I'm just going to catch a train to my next big stop, up to Hamburg, no big deal. After going over to the train station and learning how much of a dent in my wallet this "jump" was going to cost I quickly gave in. 80 euro down the drain. But I figured that some rest and time away from worry and rain would do me some good. Oh was I in for a surprise.
So I woke up extra early (around 7 am) to get all my gear and myself ready for my day of travel. I washed about half my possesions in the sink to get all the mud off, knocked my shoes together and filled up all my water bottles with tasty "Netherlandy" water. I grabbed a few crossiants from the local shop and felt ready to hit the road, or train in this case.
This is where the fun really begins. But before we start its important to know that the route I had booked included six seperate train changes. Yeah, just a little crazy.
My first train was scheduled to leave the station in Maastricht at 10 am Sharp. And like a good traveller I showed up 30 minutes early. 10 am arrived, so did the train, I got on with my bike, no problem.The first train which I had already boarded went along and happily arrived at my stop 30 full seconds early at 10:34. My connecting train was scheduled to leave from 4 platforms away at 10:36. Another moment of panic. Not having much of a choice here, I shouldered my 60 pound load (bike, gear and 3 full bottles) and ran down 3 flights of steps, underneath the tracks to the appropriate platform, reshouldered my bike and ran up another 3 flights of steps.... I made it just as the doors were closing. Phew. First major problem avoided.
I then rode happily long to my next transfer for 40 or so minutes, fell asleep for a bit and again changed trains. This time I had 10 minutes before my next train and my shoulders didn't exactly feel great, so I took the lift up. The train arrived right on time, I got on, once again, no problems.Things started going downhill after this.
I was going along in this third train when they make an announcement (in German). I ask the woman sitting next to me if she could translate it for me. Apparently they just told all the passengers that there was a broken down train up ahead on our track and we would be delayed 20 minutes. Panic..... I checked my literary and with the 20 minute delay that left me exactly 1 minute to make me transfer. Ugh, this day was not turning out in my favour.
But hey, if there is one thing I learned from being in Boy Scouts and watching my Dad is that panic never helped a situation look any better so I tried to think of a way that might make it possible for me to make the connection in the 1 minute I would have. The only thing I could think of was to use my bike to block the door on the train I was on so as to be the first one off. Carry my bike down the stairs, again on my shoulder, ride it as fast as possible through the train station, and pray that I would still have enough time to carry it back up however many flights of stairs I needed to climb. Sooooo, I had a plan.
The train stopped with me already in position, I flew to the stairs, threw my bike on my shoulder, rode it as fast as was possible through the crowded train station and flew up the stairs on other end..... I arrived completely out of breath and ready to collapse into a seat on the train..... but where was the train. I was sure I hadnt missed it as I had another 5 or so seconds before it was supposed to depart. I walked up to someone who was on the same train and he informed me that the train was running 10 minutes behind schedule. I laughed so hard in that moment I actually cried a little bit. What a waste.
So after a bit of recovery (me laying on the ground next to my bike trying to catch my breath) the train showed up. Apparently my day hadnt been crappy enough so someone decided to throw me another curve ball. Upon trying to lift my bike up onto the train one of the train guards ran over to me and started yelling at me into German. Not very helpful. After informing him of my lack of understanding he repeated this one phrase: no bike. Huh? What do you mean?... No bike. I dont Understand... No bike. Wtv.
I walked over to one of the employees of the station who I had heard speaking English earlier and he said that there werent bike allowed on this train....WHAT THE HECK. My ticket that I bought had me on a train that didnt allow bikes when I bought a special seperate tickets FOR MY BIKE. The world was completely against me. Another wave of panic. Looking back it was at this point that I really just gave up that day. If my luck hadnt turned around at this exact point I would have been on a plane home 2 weeks ago.
To be more precise a very nice old German woman walked up to me, after hearing my delimma, and basically offered to help me. She walked me with my bike down to some back office and yelled at the ticket counter people (in German) on my behalf and before you know it I had a new ticket for no extra money for a direct train to Hamburg that was leaving in an hour. Talk about fantastic luck. And so ends the first story.
Story #2
If you can remember back to one of my earlier entries I talked about how it felt to be homeless for a night, in truth not even a whole night. But still, it was a terrible experience. One of those feelings you carry with you for the rest of your life. Basically I filed that feeling away to be called upon whenever I needed a way to imagine how lucky I am. Well, for those of you who don't already know, I've had another one of those kinds of experiences. And yes, I know, I'm just overflowing with good luck.
I woke up on first day in Berlin hopping to catch the free tour, which I had caught in several other cities, leaving at 11 am. No problem, I thought, since i woke up at 8 and was showered and ready to go by 9 since it was an hour walk to the meeting point. I hit the road by 9:15 and figured I would just bum off Starbucks free internet until the tour started. On my way I passed a Deutsche Bank, whig is part of Bank of Americas global alliance, meaning they don't charge you international withdrawl and conversion fees. I was thinking that it was pretty damn good luck cause I literally was down to about 5 euro.
I popped inside and pulled up right in front of an atm, popped in my card and started going through the usual process of withdrawing money . I got to the part about enter how much you would like to withdrawl and i put in my amount and looked down to try and figure out which button meant "confirm".
At the same time I was searching for the button the atm apparently thought I had walked away and "ate" my card. For those of you who are still confused, the atm retained my card inside it and would not give it back. After becoming confused and annoyed I tried to get my card back my pushing every button. No luck. I walked to the actual bank doors as the atm was outside and deciphered that they didn't open for another 2 hours. Panic, hunger and confusion all decided that now would be a great time to kick up their legs. Ugh.
So I figured, hey, let's go on the tour and go back to the bank afterwards as they would be open then, maybe they could just open it up and give me back my card. So I walked the rest of the way to the free tour and the whole time my mind was reeling with what would happen if I couldn't get my debit card back. I had no cash, no other cards, no cell phone to call my bank or Visa and an unreliable source of internet. I quickly realized that I was now in a bad situation and nothing I saw, did or heard could drive this thought from my mind of being absolutely screwed in a place where I didnt speak the language. Another ugh moment.
I was a traveller, in a far off country, who didn't know the language, generally lost and without any source of capital. I really felt like the world was actively trying to screw me. It brought back memories of my night as a homeless kid sleeping on the bench in Dieppe. Generally not a desirable state to find yourself in. I couldn't concentrate so going on the tour was pointless. I stayed in the coffee shop and waited for a response from either of my parents. When you put "high priority action item" coupled witht the word EMERGENCY in capital letters in an emails subject line, you generally get a pretty quick response and this instance was no exception.
They recommended going back to the bank and talking with the people there which I had totally fogetten about in mz panic. Just what you'd expect from level headed rational thinkers. So I went back. " Sorry sir, but unless VISA or BoA calls us and gives us permission your not getting your card back." Gee, thanks for all the help. I choose that moment to whisper some rather colorful words under my breath as I walked away.
I then walked back to the coffe shop, a whole hour away, and emailed my parents back about my updated status and they recommended going to the US consulate/embassy and to see if they could help. Again, a good solid suggestion. So I went. Upon my approach of the embassy I got yelled at because bicycles werent allowed on that part of the sidewalk. The sign was in all German, how was I supposed to know. I walked up to the guard outside and showed him my USA passport like they do in all the movies and then tried to go in. Haha. So much for the movies.
Excuse me sir but your not allowed in without an appointment. Do you have one?...... A what? How was I supposed to know that? I'm just an American in trouble while abroad and figured you could help. Is that so damn hard to imagine? ..... Not really what I said but I wasn't exactly in a good mood at this point and it was definitely what I was thinking.
After taking a moment to compose myself I calmly explained my situation to the guard, he made a phone call and a few minutes later a middle age guy in jeans and a sports jacket that looked 10 years old came down. I explained my situation again and he disappeared for a bit. When he came back he said that he had put my name on a list for tomorrow morning so I could get in to the US Consulate office and they would try to help me from there. In other words, free phone calls back home to help get this mess straightened out. It was the first moment since this whole crisis started where there was any ray of hope.
Luckily for me I had already given up all hope and had asked my Dad to send me some money via Western Union and 2 hours later I had enough money to survive the next 2 weeks. On top of that, he sent me the new debit card that BoA had sent me while I was travelling to my friends house in Prague so in case I need more money its only a atm visit away, or one can hope.
Now by just reading the overview you will totally miss out of the "fun" part but if you want to stop there I dont blame you, the rest of this entry is like one long running joke where Im the main attraction. So lets jump right in:
Story #1
Talk about a crazy day. Let's go back to the beginning and have a look: today was a travel day. I had ridden something close to 500+ km over the past week and I pulled into Maastricht tired and ready to crash. I figured, a day or two to recover and I would be ready to hit the road again. As luck would have it I quickly found the hostel and I could tell just by looking at it that it was a nice place. I walked in the door and went straight up to the receptionist. So much for luck, they only had only night available and at 30 euro/night. Eek. So much for all that recovery. I booked the night, caught a shower and put on dry clothes (I rode 120 km to Maastricht in the rain and I arrived, bags and all, soaked to the core, covered in mud and terribly cold). I then went inquiring after whether there was another hostel in or around town. They Gave me the names of 4 different places. I went to every single one of them, tired as I was. Every single one was booked solid!
At this point a little bit of panic set in. Alright, I told myself, I'm tired and don't feel like riding in the morning so I'm just going to catch a train to my next big stop, up to Hamburg, no big deal. After going over to the train station and learning how much of a dent in my wallet this "jump" was going to cost I quickly gave in. 80 euro down the drain. But I figured that some rest and time away from worry and rain would do me some good. Oh was I in for a surprise.
So I woke up extra early (around 7 am) to get all my gear and myself ready for my day of travel. I washed about half my possesions in the sink to get all the mud off, knocked my shoes together and filled up all my water bottles with tasty "Netherlandy" water. I grabbed a few crossiants from the local shop and felt ready to hit the road, or train in this case.
This is where the fun really begins. But before we start its important to know that the route I had booked included six seperate train changes. Yeah, just a little crazy.
My first train was scheduled to leave the station in Maastricht at 10 am Sharp. And like a good traveller I showed up 30 minutes early. 10 am arrived, so did the train, I got on with my bike, no problem.The first train which I had already boarded went along and happily arrived at my stop 30 full seconds early at 10:34. My connecting train was scheduled to leave from 4 platforms away at 10:36. Another moment of panic. Not having much of a choice here, I shouldered my 60 pound load (bike, gear and 3 full bottles) and ran down 3 flights of steps, underneath the tracks to the appropriate platform, reshouldered my bike and ran up another 3 flights of steps.... I made it just as the doors were closing. Phew. First major problem avoided.
I then rode happily long to my next transfer for 40 or so minutes, fell asleep for a bit and again changed trains. This time I had 10 minutes before my next train and my shoulders didn't exactly feel great, so I took the lift up. The train arrived right on time, I got on, once again, no problems.Things started going downhill after this.
I was going along in this third train when they make an announcement (in German). I ask the woman sitting next to me if she could translate it for me. Apparently they just told all the passengers that there was a broken down train up ahead on our track and we would be delayed 20 minutes. Panic..... I checked my literary and with the 20 minute delay that left me exactly 1 minute to make me transfer. Ugh, this day was not turning out in my favour.
But hey, if there is one thing I learned from being in Boy Scouts and watching my Dad is that panic never helped a situation look any better so I tried to think of a way that might make it possible for me to make the connection in the 1 minute I would have. The only thing I could think of was to use my bike to block the door on the train I was on so as to be the first one off. Carry my bike down the stairs, again on my shoulder, ride it as fast as possible through the train station, and pray that I would still have enough time to carry it back up however many flights of stairs I needed to climb. Sooooo, I had a plan.
The train stopped with me already in position, I flew to the stairs, threw my bike on my shoulder, rode it as fast as was possible through the crowded train station and flew up the stairs on other end..... I arrived completely out of breath and ready to collapse into a seat on the train..... but where was the train. I was sure I hadnt missed it as I had another 5 or so seconds before it was supposed to depart. I walked up to someone who was on the same train and he informed me that the train was running 10 minutes behind schedule. I laughed so hard in that moment I actually cried a little bit. What a waste.
So after a bit of recovery (me laying on the ground next to my bike trying to catch my breath) the train showed up. Apparently my day hadnt been crappy enough so someone decided to throw me another curve ball. Upon trying to lift my bike up onto the train one of the train guards ran over to me and started yelling at me into German. Not very helpful. After informing him of my lack of understanding he repeated this one phrase: no bike. Huh? What do you mean?... No bike. I dont Understand... No bike. Wtv.
I walked over to one of the employees of the station who I had heard speaking English earlier and he said that there werent bike allowed on this train....WHAT THE HECK. My ticket that I bought had me on a train that didnt allow bikes when I bought a special seperate tickets FOR MY BIKE. The world was completely against me. Another wave of panic. Looking back it was at this point that I really just gave up that day. If my luck hadnt turned around at this exact point I would have been on a plane home 2 weeks ago.
To be more precise a very nice old German woman walked up to me, after hearing my delimma, and basically offered to help me. She walked me with my bike down to some back office and yelled at the ticket counter people (in German) on my behalf and before you know it I had a new ticket for no extra money for a direct train to Hamburg that was leaving in an hour. Talk about fantastic luck. And so ends the first story.
Story #2
If you can remember back to one of my earlier entries I talked about how it felt to be homeless for a night, in truth not even a whole night. But still, it was a terrible experience. One of those feelings you carry with you for the rest of your life. Basically I filed that feeling away to be called upon whenever I needed a way to imagine how lucky I am. Well, for those of you who don't already know, I've had another one of those kinds of experiences. And yes, I know, I'm just overflowing with good luck.
I woke up on first day in Berlin hopping to catch the free tour, which I had caught in several other cities, leaving at 11 am. No problem, I thought, since i woke up at 8 and was showered and ready to go by 9 since it was an hour walk to the meeting point. I hit the road by 9:15 and figured I would just bum off Starbucks free internet until the tour started. On my way I passed a Deutsche Bank, whig is part of Bank of Americas global alliance, meaning they don't charge you international withdrawl and conversion fees. I was thinking that it was pretty damn good luck cause I literally was down to about 5 euro.
I popped inside and pulled up right in front of an atm, popped in my card and started going through the usual process of withdrawing money . I got to the part about enter how much you would like to withdrawl and i put in my amount and looked down to try and figure out which button meant "confirm".
At the same time I was searching for the button the atm apparently thought I had walked away and "ate" my card. For those of you who are still confused, the atm retained my card inside it and would not give it back. After becoming confused and annoyed I tried to get my card back my pushing every button. No luck. I walked to the actual bank doors as the atm was outside and deciphered that they didn't open for another 2 hours. Panic, hunger and confusion all decided that now would be a great time to kick up their legs. Ugh.
So I figured, hey, let's go on the tour and go back to the bank afterwards as they would be open then, maybe they could just open it up and give me back my card. So I walked the rest of the way to the free tour and the whole time my mind was reeling with what would happen if I couldn't get my debit card back. I had no cash, no other cards, no cell phone to call my bank or Visa and an unreliable source of internet. I quickly realized that I was now in a bad situation and nothing I saw, did or heard could drive this thought from my mind of being absolutely screwed in a place where I didnt speak the language. Another ugh moment.
I was a traveller, in a far off country, who didn't know the language, generally lost and without any source of capital. I really felt like the world was actively trying to screw me. It brought back memories of my night as a homeless kid sleeping on the bench in Dieppe. Generally not a desirable state to find yourself in. I couldn't concentrate so going on the tour was pointless. I stayed in the coffee shop and waited for a response from either of my parents. When you put "high priority action item" coupled witht the word EMERGENCY in capital letters in an emails subject line, you generally get a pretty quick response and this instance was no exception.
They recommended going back to the bank and talking with the people there which I had totally fogetten about in mz panic. Just what you'd expect from level headed rational thinkers. So I went back. " Sorry sir, but unless VISA or BoA calls us and gives us permission your not getting your card back." Gee, thanks for all the help. I choose that moment to whisper some rather colorful words under my breath as I walked away.
I then walked back to the coffe shop, a whole hour away, and emailed my parents back about my updated status and they recommended going to the US consulate/embassy and to see if they could help. Again, a good solid suggestion. So I went. Upon my approach of the embassy I got yelled at because bicycles werent allowed on that part of the sidewalk. The sign was in all German, how was I supposed to know. I walked up to the guard outside and showed him my USA passport like they do in all the movies and then tried to go in. Haha. So much for the movies.
Excuse me sir but your not allowed in without an appointment. Do you have one?...... A what? How was I supposed to know that? I'm just an American in trouble while abroad and figured you could help. Is that so damn hard to imagine? ..... Not really what I said but I wasn't exactly in a good mood at this point and it was definitely what I was thinking.
After taking a moment to compose myself I calmly explained my situation to the guard, he made a phone call and a few minutes later a middle age guy in jeans and a sports jacket that looked 10 years old came down. I explained my situation again and he disappeared for a bit. When he came back he said that he had put my name on a list for tomorrow morning so I could get in to the US Consulate office and they would try to help me from there. In other words, free phone calls back home to help get this mess straightened out. It was the first moment since this whole crisis started where there was any ray of hope.
Luckily for me I had already given up all hope and had asked my Dad to send me some money via Western Union and 2 hours later I had enough money to survive the next 2 weeks. On top of that, he sent me the new debit card that BoA had sent me while I was travelling to my friends house in Prague so in case I need more money its only a atm visit away, or one can hope.
Finally, Let's Go to Paris 06/21
So after some food and quite a bit of expresso I put my handlebars in the direction of Rouen and started pedaling. At this point, the wind was at my back and I was making excellent time. The first thing I noticed about riding in France compared to riding in Ireland or the UK is the condition of the roads. WOW! I have never ridden on better roads in my life. It's like they make every road with the intention that Le Tour will be riding on it and so it has to be absolutely perfectly smooth!
So flying along to Rouen, I make it down there a little before noon. Unfortunately, I can't find a hostel in town to save my life. I went into several places that looked promising but they were charing 70 + a night.... no thanks. So then I went looking for camping. At this point I had only camped out twice, both times in Ireland and that was solely out of necessity because I finished my day in the middle of nowhere. But this time I was looking for a legitimate campground (as i heard in England, thats what's the REAL French do). So I went across the river, then back across again, then back a third time. Long story short, I got totally lost, finally found a way out of town, had no idea which direction I was going but finally I saw a sign for camping and I would have followed into hell. At this point I had been searching for near on 4 hours. I was exhausted, sweaty, starting to get really cold from all the sweat and generally not in a good mood.
Finally, I come to the campgrounds which I later learned was is a town called Igoville, France. I set up my camp, took a fabulously warm shower, made the grudgingly long 3 mile walk into town for dinner and promptly went to bed. I woke up briefly in the middle of the night because their was a thunderstorm but other than that, I slept beautifully that night. For those of you who don't know (just like i didn't) Igoville is part of Normadie France which is truly beautiful so I decided to take an extra day to ride down to Paris and stopped the next night in Vernon. And then it was just a hop, skip and a jump down to Paris.
So right before I got to Paris I got a bit lost. I couldn't find a safe way to ride into the city. It's not exactly obvious. There are no signs that say this way to cycle to Paris. It's all huge highways and tunnels were cyclists aren't allowed. But as luck would have it I ran into two fellow cyclists or people who were at least riding bikes that were headed into Paris. They said, in Spanish, to follow them and they would take me into the city. So I followed them. They went through a FOREST!!! No joke. No wonder I couldn't find the way into the city. It was hidden inside a huge forest then went underground and had quite a few turns before finally popping out right outside the city. I believe thats what the kids today call... a win! haha
Anyways, they also gave me directions to a campground near where we were because I figured it would be cheaper than staying at a hostel in the city and damn was I right. It cost be 15 Euro/night which was about half what it would have cost to stay inside the city and I was only 2 km outside. With the bike, that was nothing. So everyday for 4 days I rode into Paris and had a good old time. I took a tour and went to do all the tourist things. I climbed the Eiffel Tower, went to the Louvre and saw the Arc de Triumph. In addition, I kept at my Jason Bourne/Matt Damon concept (as weird as it was) and saw where he demanded to meet his "handler" on the Pont Nuef bridge (or New Bridge in English).
In accord with my food exploration crusade I tried all the traditional (and unusual) foods of the Parisians. That meant Escargot (snails) and Cuisses de Grenouilles (frog legs). The snails were fabulous. The frog legs, less so. But definitely worth trying out. Another highlight of my trip to Paris was going to the famous bookstore, Shakespeare and Company. It's the only all English bookstore in Paris and for that matter all of France. Apparently its famous because all kinds of big name writers go there and have public readings of their books. But it just seemed like a good place to replenish my book store as I had finished my copy of Lord of the Rings (they also buy books there so I made a little trade). I also tried participating in the young Parisians tradition of sitting out at night and drinking cheap wine.... I think I could have skipped this but still, it was nice to see the Eiffel Tower all lit up at night. You know, its one of those once in a life time experiences you probably shouldn't miss.
Well that about sums up the Paris portion of my trip. But right now I'm going to go take care of something on my Bucket List here in Bruxells and I don't want to miss its start so I will leave it here from now and pick it up with my crazy trip up to Bruge and the rest of what i've done here in Bruxells. Tomorrow I leave for Maastricht, Limburg, Netherlands and after that I head up to Hamburg, Germany. But all that to come when I actually get to those places. For now, I'm just taking it one day at a time and, as always, Keep Pedaling.
So flying along to Rouen, I make it down there a little before noon. Unfortunately, I can't find a hostel in town to save my life. I went into several places that looked promising but they were charing 70 + a night.... no thanks. So then I went looking for camping. At this point I had only camped out twice, both times in Ireland and that was solely out of necessity because I finished my day in the middle of nowhere. But this time I was looking for a legitimate campground (as i heard in England, thats what's the REAL French do). So I went across the river, then back across again, then back a third time. Long story short, I got totally lost, finally found a way out of town, had no idea which direction I was going but finally I saw a sign for camping and I would have followed into hell. At this point I had been searching for near on 4 hours. I was exhausted, sweaty, starting to get really cold from all the sweat and generally not in a good mood.
Finally, I come to the campgrounds which I later learned was is a town called Igoville, France. I set up my camp, took a fabulously warm shower, made the grudgingly long 3 mile walk into town for dinner and promptly went to bed. I woke up briefly in the middle of the night because their was a thunderstorm but other than that, I slept beautifully that night. For those of you who don't know (just like i didn't) Igoville is part of Normadie France which is truly beautiful so I decided to take an extra day to ride down to Paris and stopped the next night in Vernon. And then it was just a hop, skip and a jump down to Paris.
So right before I got to Paris I got a bit lost. I couldn't find a safe way to ride into the city. It's not exactly obvious. There are no signs that say this way to cycle to Paris. It's all huge highways and tunnels were cyclists aren't allowed. But as luck would have it I ran into two fellow cyclists or people who were at least riding bikes that were headed into Paris. They said, in Spanish, to follow them and they would take me into the city. So I followed them. They went through a FOREST!!! No joke. No wonder I couldn't find the way into the city. It was hidden inside a huge forest then went underground and had quite a few turns before finally popping out right outside the city. I believe thats what the kids today call... a win! haha
Anyways, they also gave me directions to a campground near where we were because I figured it would be cheaper than staying at a hostel in the city and damn was I right. It cost be 15 Euro/night which was about half what it would have cost to stay inside the city and I was only 2 km outside. With the bike, that was nothing. So everyday for 4 days I rode into Paris and had a good old time. I took a tour and went to do all the tourist things. I climbed the Eiffel Tower, went to the Louvre and saw the Arc de Triumph. In addition, I kept at my Jason Bourne/Matt Damon concept (as weird as it was) and saw where he demanded to meet his "handler" on the Pont Nuef bridge (or New Bridge in English).
In accord with my food exploration crusade I tried all the traditional (and unusual) foods of the Parisians. That meant Escargot (snails) and Cuisses de Grenouilles (frog legs). The snails were fabulous. The frog legs, less so. But definitely worth trying out. Another highlight of my trip to Paris was going to the famous bookstore, Shakespeare and Company. It's the only all English bookstore in Paris and for that matter all of France. Apparently its famous because all kinds of big name writers go there and have public readings of their books. But it just seemed like a good place to replenish my book store as I had finished my copy of Lord of the Rings (they also buy books there so I made a little trade). I also tried participating in the young Parisians tradition of sitting out at night and drinking cheap wine.... I think I could have skipped this but still, it was nice to see the Eiffel Tower all lit up at night. You know, its one of those once in a life time experiences you probably shouldn't miss.
Well that about sums up the Paris portion of my trip. But right now I'm going to go take care of something on my Bucket List here in Bruxells and I don't want to miss its start so I will leave it here from now and pick it up with my crazy trip up to Bruge and the rest of what i've done here in Bruxells. Tomorrow I leave for Maastricht, Limburg, Netherlands and after that I head up to Hamburg, Germany. But all that to come when I actually get to those places. For now, I'm just taking it one day at a time and, as always, Keep Pedaling.
I'm Sorry, but What Language Are You Speaking? 06/20 (Part 1)
So picking back up: London, Europe's most heavily populated city. The first thing I realized about London was it was an American version of NYC except they had more space to develop. So instead of going up and building huge skyscrapers, they built out.... and out..... and out. LONDON IS HUGE. It was quite a challenge for me to bike from one side of the city to the other. Of course, London traffic may have had something to with that but we'lll get to that in a bit. But before I go any further, I left off last night's blog entry with the questioning of my health in the morning. Let me explain.
Yesterday after I checked into my hostel here in Brussels (or Bruxells depending on where your from) and grabbed a shower and went out to do a bit of exploring. In truth, I was looking for either cheap food or a grocery store as I was down right starved from my 100 km ride. So I went out and after some wandering around found a nice grocery store. And I thought to myself, "hey, I'm in Belgium, a city famous for its beer, lets pick up a couple of beers." So I picked out 6 different beers (the bottles are all really small here). And I went out looking for a place to relax and drink. I stumbled upon a Mariachi (spelling?) band playing all kinds of Spanish music. So I pulled up a chair and plopped my tired butt down.
I went for the first beer: Juliper, which is the most common beer found here in Belgium and ridiculously cheap. Unfortunately I quickly and sadly discovered that none of the beers were twist-off tops and I had no way to open any of my beer. I took a moment of silence.
I then turned around to the two young guys sitting behind me and to my great luck they had a bottle opener. Well, long story short we got to talking and they were pretty cool guys. We quickly finished all the beer (they had quite a lot of their own - which I helped to drink). We then were informed my a local of a big free concert at midmight on the other side of town (Brussels is a really small town - relative to London or Paris). So I came back, updated my blog and then went out to drink more and enjoy the concert. Turns out it was amazing classical music by a fair sized orchestra. So for two hours last night I was serenated by all kinds of good classical music while drinking 2 bottles of good wine. But that was just last night.
Let's get back on topic here and cover London. Well my first day I did all the tourist things. There are quite a lot of things to do in London and they are all scattered throughout the city. By the end of the day I was exhausted from all the walking. I crashed into my bed that night. Upon awaking the next morning I promptly found that the hostel I was staying at had the absolute best complimentary breakfast I had every seen in any of the hostels I had stayed at before. So your standard hostel breakfast consists of toast, butter or jam packets and if your lucky coffee or orange juice. This place, called The Clink, had meat and cheese and CEREAL!!! I had forgotten what it was like to eat cereal for breakfast. And milk. Delicious. Trust me, when you travel for a long period of time its all the little things you miss.
The next day I went out and bought a used copy of Lord of the Rings, the complete trilogy (the books - or to be precise, all six books in one). I spend the next two days relaxing all over London reading. And believe me, this was far from a waste of time. Hyde Park, Regent Park and Queen's Park are some of the nicest places in London. That and you get to watch all the tourist and locals go by. It was quite a nice change from the constant walking, moving, picture taking lifestyle, and one that I desperately needed. The fourth and last day I spent in London was reserved for things I still wanted to see, food I still wanted to try and anything else I could imagine. I ate my third or maybe fourth serving of fish and chips, had some amazing Turkish dish which I don't know the name of as the guy didn't speak any English (I have a picture of it) and went around to see the sights one last time.
I wont' go into all the details of all the things I went to go do and see (and definitely not all the junk food I ate) but there are a few highlights that I want to mention. First, I had a Jason Bourne afternoon. And I don't mean I was tracked down by the CIA and they tried to kill me. I mean I went around London and went to all the places where Matt Damon (playing Jason Bourne) went in the movie. To me, the big name in that was Waterloo. I have never seen a train/subway station (they call their subway the Underground) so packed and crazy. It was really fun just to sit up on some stairs and watch the mayhem.
Next, I think I had heard this somewhere before but maybe it never sank in: "London is watching, always." London, if you had only one sentence to describe it, has more cameras, security and otherwise, than anywhere else I have ever seen in my entire life. Literally, on every building, every corner, every dark stinky alley, under every bridge and behind every trashcan there are cameras. It really gives you the impression of distrust from the English government but that was just my take on it. Little side story: I was in a London Underground station and there was something interesting there that I wanted to take a picture of so I took out my camera from my bag and took a picture. Within 3 seconds I had 4 cameras aimed at me and two police officers making a bee-line for me. For everyone's benefit and humor, apparently it is illegal and a heavily fined offense to take pictures in any London Underground station or of any of their equipment (ie. the positioning of the camera). After getting a bit of a lecture I disembarked off the train I was on and caught the next one 30 seconds behind. This train didn't have any police officers on it..... so I took some photos.
But again, I am going to have to dissapoint you all and leave it here till tonight. So tonight (my time) or afternoon/early evening your time you can expect to hear about my trip down to the English Channel, my ride into Paris and Paris itself, at the very least! Until then, bonne chance and bonne boyage and as always, Keep Pedaling!
Yesterday after I checked into my hostel here in Brussels (or Bruxells depending on where your from) and grabbed a shower and went out to do a bit of exploring. In truth, I was looking for either cheap food or a grocery store as I was down right starved from my 100 km ride. So I went out and after some wandering around found a nice grocery store. And I thought to myself, "hey, I'm in Belgium, a city famous for its beer, lets pick up a couple of beers." So I picked out 6 different beers (the bottles are all really small here). And I went out looking for a place to relax and drink. I stumbled upon a Mariachi (spelling?) band playing all kinds of Spanish music. So I pulled up a chair and plopped my tired butt down.
I went for the first beer: Juliper, which is the most common beer found here in Belgium and ridiculously cheap. Unfortunately I quickly and sadly discovered that none of the beers were twist-off tops and I had no way to open any of my beer. I took a moment of silence.
I then turned around to the two young guys sitting behind me and to my great luck they had a bottle opener. Well, long story short we got to talking and they were pretty cool guys. We quickly finished all the beer (they had quite a lot of their own - which I helped to drink). We then were informed my a local of a big free concert at midmight on the other side of town (Brussels is a really small town - relative to London or Paris). So I came back, updated my blog and then went out to drink more and enjoy the concert. Turns out it was amazing classical music by a fair sized orchestra. So for two hours last night I was serenated by all kinds of good classical music while drinking 2 bottles of good wine. But that was just last night.
Let's get back on topic here and cover London. Well my first day I did all the tourist things. There are quite a lot of things to do in London and they are all scattered throughout the city. By the end of the day I was exhausted from all the walking. I crashed into my bed that night. Upon awaking the next morning I promptly found that the hostel I was staying at had the absolute best complimentary breakfast I had every seen in any of the hostels I had stayed at before. So your standard hostel breakfast consists of toast, butter or jam packets and if your lucky coffee or orange juice. This place, called The Clink, had meat and cheese and CEREAL!!! I had forgotten what it was like to eat cereal for breakfast. And milk. Delicious. Trust me, when you travel for a long period of time its all the little things you miss.
The next day I went out and bought a used copy of Lord of the Rings, the complete trilogy (the books - or to be precise, all six books in one). I spend the next two days relaxing all over London reading. And believe me, this was far from a waste of time. Hyde Park, Regent Park and Queen's Park are some of the nicest places in London. That and you get to watch all the tourist and locals go by. It was quite a nice change from the constant walking, moving, picture taking lifestyle, and one that I desperately needed. The fourth and last day I spent in London was reserved for things I still wanted to see, food I still wanted to try and anything else I could imagine. I ate my third or maybe fourth serving of fish and chips, had some amazing Turkish dish which I don't know the name of as the guy didn't speak any English (I have a picture of it) and went around to see the sights one last time.
I wont' go into all the details of all the things I went to go do and see (and definitely not all the junk food I ate) but there are a few highlights that I want to mention. First, I had a Jason Bourne afternoon. And I don't mean I was tracked down by the CIA and they tried to kill me. I mean I went around London and went to all the places where Matt Damon (playing Jason Bourne) went in the movie. To me, the big name in that was Waterloo. I have never seen a train/subway station (they call their subway the Underground) so packed and crazy. It was really fun just to sit up on some stairs and watch the mayhem.
Next, I think I had heard this somewhere before but maybe it never sank in: "London is watching, always." London, if you had only one sentence to describe it, has more cameras, security and otherwise, than anywhere else I have ever seen in my entire life. Literally, on every building, every corner, every dark stinky alley, under every bridge and behind every trashcan there are cameras. It really gives you the impression of distrust from the English government but that was just my take on it. Little side story: I was in a London Underground station and there was something interesting there that I wanted to take a picture of so I took out my camera from my bag and took a picture. Within 3 seconds I had 4 cameras aimed at me and two police officers making a bee-line for me. For everyone's benefit and humor, apparently it is illegal and a heavily fined offense to take pictures in any London Underground station or of any of their equipment (ie. the positioning of the camera). After getting a bit of a lecture I disembarked off the train I was on and caught the next one 30 seconds behind. This train didn't have any police officers on it..... so I took some photos.
But again, I am going to have to dissapoint you all and leave it here till tonight. So tonight (my time) or afternoon/early evening your time you can expect to hear about my trip down to the English Channel, my ride into Paris and Paris itself, at the very least! Until then, bonne chance and bonne boyage and as always, Keep Pedaling!
Delicious Fries with Mustard, Pickle and Curry Sauce +1 Stomach=0 (Part two of 06/20)
I know I'm supposed to be catching all of my non-exsistent readers :P up on what has happened up until now but I can't help but detouring to what I'm doing right now as its the most fresh in my mind. But for everyone's sanity, as well as my own I will keep this detour brief, just like all good cyclists prefer. So today I walked around Brusells for almost 6 hours, rode the metro to the end of the city and did some of the touristy things that are just outside the city. Upon arriving back at the hostel around 4 PM I found that the kitchen was closed and my stomach was literally yelling at me for some food. So I hit the streets of Brusells in search of some cheap, filling food.
Well here I am, on the streets in capital of Belgium, looking for food. My mind immediately jumps to what I would look for if I were DC. Street vendors. So I see one a few blocks away and make my way to it. Hi, how are you, what are you selling. "Sorry, no English." The guy proceeds to try and sell me what I am going to refer to as an BAD SMELLING animal that looked to be moving on a stick. Pass. I kept on looking. Wait a minute, I remember I had a map in my pocket and what do you know, it has spots marked where you can buy what is probably secretly Belgium's national food, french fries. After asking someone to tell me where in the heck I was on the map (Step 1) I then realized that 1 block over from me there was a Friterie, or Fry shop. I went over and walked up all nonchalantly cause it looked like a whole-in-the-wall kind of place.
Turns out a Fry shop doesn't mean the just serve fries, although thats what I got (with Pickle, Mustard, Kethcup, Curry and Mayo on top - they didn't have cheese), they fry everything under the sun. Seriously, they had on their menu, which I may go back tomorrow and try just out of curiousity, fried fruits. Yeah, a little bit weird. But leave it to the Dutch to come up with some way to make fruit more appetising. But enough of this detour, lets get back to the reason why nobody in their left mind should be following along in my food-filled, backwards adventure.
So here I am leaving London going down to Seaford which is where I choose to catch a ferry over to France. It's about as close as a point as you can get on the English channel relative to London (hence why I picked it). It was a cold, windy, rainy and overall dreary 50 mile ride down to the litte town of Seaford. Nothing exciting to report here (rather anti-climatic way to leave England if you ask me). And after you've spent the last 4 or 5 days in a major metropolitan area like London, a city, just like NYC, that never sleep and always has sirens and car horns going off, the country side sounds far too quiet to be natural. But it was good to get back to reality.
I got to Seaford around noon having left around 6:00 AM. I thought it was further than 50 miles so I left plenty of time. I was given directions my a Frenchman on a boat when I got to the harbour about where to inquire about ferry tickets. I had looked it up online but when I got there I didn't recognize anything from Google Maps so I just did what any good tourist does. I finally found the place and for the very reasonable sum of 20 English pounds they would take me to France. I was thinking, "damn, thats a bargin!" Turns out that the ferry wasn't going to leave until 11:00 PM and would arrive in Dieppe, France at (local time) 3:15 AM........ umm, excuse me?! Why would anyone on a Wednesday afternoon, mind you, want to cross to France at 3 in the morning beside crazy people like me? And really, how many of me can there really be?
Turns out, there are about 26 of me to be precise.
That's right, there were only 26 other people on the ferry which could have easily housed hundred of hundred of people along with something close to 1000 vehicles. But for me, it was like travelling in the finest form of luxury. Except for the fact that, there was no where to sleep, no food and no water expect at outrageous prices. No quite anywhere of the boat and to top it all off, the sea decided to throw a temper-tantrum at that exact moment. UGH, not a fun crossing. But I made it over in one peice having scrapped together maybe 30 minutes of shut eye over a 4 hour or so crossing. I mounted my bike and rode off the boat. I stood in line in the freezing cold, pitch dark for 20 minutes to get my passport stamped to get into France. When I got to the front and it was finally my turn the guy doing the stamping took one look at me, laughed, stamped my passport and called me what I now understand to mean "crazy." Thats right, you can't ride through France without learning a handful of French, as much as I tried :P
So here I am, newly arrived in France, 3 in the morning, freezing cold, in bike shorts and wool hat. I'm exhausted and not thinking too clearly (much like I am right now after running around Brusells all day). I decide to bike to the center of town and see whats there. I thought to myself, maybe there is a bar or cafe open that I can just sit in a corner and sleep until the sun comes up and just set out. Well as luck would have it, Dieppe was dead. Nothing open, no one moving. For all I could tell, the town was desserted. So at this point I was on the verge of lunacy because I don't function well without sleep and here it had been more than 24 hours of practically no rest. So I pulled out my old college card and looked down the list to see what someone with absolutely no money, no help and no idea of whats around him does who needs somewhere to sleep, to warm up (I was literally shivering I was SOO cold) and to find something to eat. My first stop, city center, a park bench and my sleeping bag.
I've never been what someone might call homeless although sometime I dress like it and after not showering for a few days I def smell like it, but at that moment in my like I literally felt helpless. I pulled out my sleeping bag, got inside and layed on a very unfortable and cold bench. The moment my head hit the boards I feel asleep, I was SOO tired. I was awoked by a strange noise somewhere in the distance (a car backfiring - I had never heard that noise before so it kind of scared me). But it was good that it woke me up because walking up to me in the dusk before dawn was a local, dressed in, what I think was, a tweed suit and asking me what I was doing. I guess its not everyday in Dieppe you see a guy in bike shorts and a woold hat with a fully loaded bike next to him laying in a sleeping bag on a park bench in the middle of your town.
He tried to tell me (in French) that there was a hotel down the street he was pointing towards but at that point I knew sunrise (6:30ish) was around the corner and was willing to brave the cold. And by that of couse I mean sit instead of lay in my sleeping bag on my, yes my, park bench. Well the sun came up and it started to warm up so at this point I had solved two of my three bigger problems. Sleep and Warmth, check. Now my attention turned to food and at that hour, coffee. Well, I'm in France. What do the French do in the mornings. They go to the Bolangerie (Bakery) and the Cafe (Coffee shop). Well unfortunately neither was open till 7 so I sat, very impatiently, right in front of the door and waited. Both the shops were right next to each other so it didn't matter. The baker opened first and I bough two huge Baguettes. I'm not sure if it's just that I've never had a fresh baguette before of what but they were some of the most delicious, soft and warm things I have ever tasted. That washed down with French expresso (which in case you don't know, is like a cup of extremely condessed coffee. They serve them in these tiny little cups which are smaller than a shot glass. But be careful, one little "shot" of expresso has the effect of several cups of coffee and you feel it all that much quicker.) So 4 cups of expresso and with a baguette in my belly I hit the road in the direction of Paris.
It seems like everytime I sit down to catch up I seem to be so much further behind than I realized but I will have to stop here for now because they are shutting down the cafe where I'm at. So tomorrow, bright and early, expect the details from Dieppe to Paris and much, much more. As always, Keep Pedaling!
Well here I am, on the streets in capital of Belgium, looking for food. My mind immediately jumps to what I would look for if I were DC. Street vendors. So I see one a few blocks away and make my way to it. Hi, how are you, what are you selling. "Sorry, no English." The guy proceeds to try and sell me what I am going to refer to as an BAD SMELLING animal that looked to be moving on a stick. Pass. I kept on looking. Wait a minute, I remember I had a map in my pocket and what do you know, it has spots marked where you can buy what is probably secretly Belgium's national food, french fries. After asking someone to tell me where in the heck I was on the map (Step 1) I then realized that 1 block over from me there was a Friterie, or Fry shop. I went over and walked up all nonchalantly cause it looked like a whole-in-the-wall kind of place.
Turns out a Fry shop doesn't mean the just serve fries, although thats what I got (with Pickle, Mustard, Kethcup, Curry and Mayo on top - they didn't have cheese), they fry everything under the sun. Seriously, they had on their menu, which I may go back tomorrow and try just out of curiousity, fried fruits. Yeah, a little bit weird. But leave it to the Dutch to come up with some way to make fruit more appetising. But enough of this detour, lets get back to the reason why nobody in their left mind should be following along in my food-filled, backwards adventure.
So here I am leaving London going down to Seaford which is where I choose to catch a ferry over to France. It's about as close as a point as you can get on the English channel relative to London (hence why I picked it). It was a cold, windy, rainy and overall dreary 50 mile ride down to the litte town of Seaford. Nothing exciting to report here (rather anti-climatic way to leave England if you ask me). And after you've spent the last 4 or 5 days in a major metropolitan area like London, a city, just like NYC, that never sleep and always has sirens and car horns going off, the country side sounds far too quiet to be natural. But it was good to get back to reality.
I got to Seaford around noon having left around 6:00 AM. I thought it was further than 50 miles so I left plenty of time. I was given directions my a Frenchman on a boat when I got to the harbour about where to inquire about ferry tickets. I had looked it up online but when I got there I didn't recognize anything from Google Maps so I just did what any good tourist does. I finally found the place and for the very reasonable sum of 20 English pounds they would take me to France. I was thinking, "damn, thats a bargin!" Turns out that the ferry wasn't going to leave until 11:00 PM and would arrive in Dieppe, France at (local time) 3:15 AM........ umm, excuse me?! Why would anyone on a Wednesday afternoon, mind you, want to cross to France at 3 in the morning beside crazy people like me? And really, how many of me can there really be?
Turns out, there are about 26 of me to be precise.
That's right, there were only 26 other people on the ferry which could have easily housed hundred of hundred of people along with something close to 1000 vehicles. But for me, it was like travelling in the finest form of luxury. Except for the fact that, there was no where to sleep, no food and no water expect at outrageous prices. No quite anywhere of the boat and to top it all off, the sea decided to throw a temper-tantrum at that exact moment. UGH, not a fun crossing. But I made it over in one peice having scrapped together maybe 30 minutes of shut eye over a 4 hour or so crossing. I mounted my bike and rode off the boat. I stood in line in the freezing cold, pitch dark for 20 minutes to get my passport stamped to get into France. When I got to the front and it was finally my turn the guy doing the stamping took one look at me, laughed, stamped my passport and called me what I now understand to mean "crazy." Thats right, you can't ride through France without learning a handful of French, as much as I tried :P
So here I am, newly arrived in France, 3 in the morning, freezing cold, in bike shorts and wool hat. I'm exhausted and not thinking too clearly (much like I am right now after running around Brusells all day). I decide to bike to the center of town and see whats there. I thought to myself, maybe there is a bar or cafe open that I can just sit in a corner and sleep until the sun comes up and just set out. Well as luck would have it, Dieppe was dead. Nothing open, no one moving. For all I could tell, the town was desserted. So at this point I was on the verge of lunacy because I don't function well without sleep and here it had been more than 24 hours of practically no rest. So I pulled out my old college card and looked down the list to see what someone with absolutely no money, no help and no idea of whats around him does who needs somewhere to sleep, to warm up (I was literally shivering I was SOO cold) and to find something to eat. My first stop, city center, a park bench and my sleeping bag.
I've never been what someone might call homeless although sometime I dress like it and after not showering for a few days I def smell like it, but at that moment in my like I literally felt helpless. I pulled out my sleeping bag, got inside and layed on a very unfortable and cold bench. The moment my head hit the boards I feel asleep, I was SOO tired. I was awoked by a strange noise somewhere in the distance (a car backfiring - I had never heard that noise before so it kind of scared me). But it was good that it woke me up because walking up to me in the dusk before dawn was a local, dressed in, what I think was, a tweed suit and asking me what I was doing. I guess its not everyday in Dieppe you see a guy in bike shorts and a woold hat with a fully loaded bike next to him laying in a sleeping bag on a park bench in the middle of your town.
He tried to tell me (in French) that there was a hotel down the street he was pointing towards but at that point I knew sunrise (6:30ish) was around the corner and was willing to brave the cold. And by that of couse I mean sit instead of lay in my sleeping bag on my, yes my, park bench. Well the sun came up and it started to warm up so at this point I had solved two of my three bigger problems. Sleep and Warmth, check. Now my attention turned to food and at that hour, coffee. Well, I'm in France. What do the French do in the mornings. They go to the Bolangerie (Bakery) and the Cafe (Coffee shop). Well unfortunately neither was open till 7 so I sat, very impatiently, right in front of the door and waited. Both the shops were right next to each other so it didn't matter. The baker opened first and I bough two huge Baguettes. I'm not sure if it's just that I've never had a fresh baguette before of what but they were some of the most delicious, soft and warm things I have ever tasted. That washed down with French expresso (which in case you don't know, is like a cup of extremely condessed coffee. They serve them in these tiny little cups which are smaller than a shot glass. But be careful, one little "shot" of expresso has the effect of several cups of coffee and you feel it all that much quicker.) So 4 cups of expresso and with a baguette in my belly I hit the road in the direction of Paris.
It seems like everytime I sit down to catch up I seem to be so much further behind than I realized but I will have to stop here for now because they are shutting down the cafe where I'm at. So tomorrow, bright and early, expect the details from Dieppe to Paris and much, much more. As always, Keep Pedaling!
London, Paris - I'm Only 2 Weeks late 06/19
Hey Readers- Sorry about the delay but things have been a bit action packed these last few weeks. So it's seems like I left off things quite a bit further back than I thought.... around arriving in Edinburgh to precise. Well, right now I'm about 800 kilometers further along in my journey in the capital city of Belgium, Brussels. But let's try and go back through some of the highlights of the days leading up till my arrival here.
Well to start, I clearly survived the ride from Glasgow to Edinburgh. As a matter of fact it was absolutely beautiful even though it was a tad cold (in the high 40s). The entire 50 mile stretch was along a canal were boats were busily going about their business and there are tons of other people near both ends to keep you distracted so you don't notice the miles going by. Finally I came into the city and got myself good and lost. Which, as I've learned on this trip, is a great way to really explore a city: no map, no plan, no clue. Anyways, I finally bump into another cycling tourer. Mind you, this is the first person I met so far that was doing anything close to what I was doing.
I was pretty much estatic to learn that I wasn't the only person in the world with the idea of biking a completely innapropriate about of miles in a short span of time and carrying everything I possible can in 5 or 6 bags attached to my bike. So of course we do the thing that all travellers do when they first meet and are getting to know each other. We sat down at the first bar we found and chatted for a bit while sipping (or draining) a few brewskies. Turns out he was from New Zeland and was only doing about 2000 miles but he came from Greece and was near the end of his journey as his last stop of his tour was Glasgow. Lucky him.
Anyways, I made my way over to the Forest Cafe, an alternative cafe for the young people of Edinburgh were I was supposed to meet a friend of a friend. After a while of waiting arond I asked the woman at the counter and she pointed to the guy would had been sitting next to me for the last hour. Damn!
Anyways, he showed me the place where I was going to be staying. I arranged to stay in a family friends college dorm room as she, the student, was away doing research at that time. Although we tried to arrange being in town at the same time, I unfortuantly missed her but I greatly appreciate her allowing me to stay in her room. And a fabulous room it was. I never understood the value of having a nice luxurious bed where I could actually do more than lay like a zombie until I had to camp and sleep in tiny beds for near on a month. But that fact alone made it hard for me to leave Edinburgh.
Now, onto the city itself. Edinburgh is a great city that is really two different worlds smashed up together. It has the new side where all the shopping is and the fancy restaurants. And it has the old side and by old I mean it has hundreds of castles smushed up together, each one made (by the looks of it) as if they were built to outdo the last one. Then right in the middle of "old town" there is the Royal Mile, which is a stretch of amazing architecture and castles and all kinds of fabulous looking buildings. Well needless to say but Edinburgh is a really big city.... I mean really big. I had trouble taking it all in and everytime I thought I understood something, it would change and the next day I would have to spend some time relearning.
In the end, I spent 6 days in Edinburgh.... mainly cause of the bed, but also because of the cuisine. So I've been reading this book entitled Outliers and its really made me think about things in a different way. And one of the things its made me think about is the question: "what is your personal driver? what excites you when you learn or experience it?" Well, that question in particular really baffled me because for the longest time I always made the assumption the "correct" answer to that question was money. But on this trip, thats more than impossible as all I'm doing is spending money. So I had to reexamine the question and what I came up with is...... surprise, surpise: food. Or to make it sound more zazzy: cuisine. I have really enjoyed learning about what foods drive a culture and what makes that specific food so important.
Regardless of what you might think of that answer its what I came up with so I've been going with that and so far it's been really fun, tasty and educational. So I tried some of the local cuisine in Edinburgh.... which is in Scotland.... which meant beer and Scottish whisky. And when you get right down to it, hands down, Scottich whisky clearly overtakes its American counterpart in flavour, smoothness and quality, and thats coming from a non-Whisky drinker.
To keep the story going, I decided that I had had enough of the cold. So unbeknowest to me, but the entirety of the United Kingdom is considerably cold. Of course the island part in Northern part of the world should probably have been a dead giveaway, I never really made that connection. So I decided that in order to help alleviate the issue of constantly having to battle with the cold I decided to take a train all the way down to London and cut out all those long cold days in between. This was a hard decision for me because it would mean cutting out quite a bit of my trip and missing some of the cities I was really looking forward to exploring. But weighed against the knowledge of warmer climates I was quickly swayed toward the jumping ship option and boarding a train to London.
Unfortunately I'm going to stop here for now but tomorrow morning I will pick up from arriving in London. Hope everyone reading this is well and that I'm still alive in the morning. Explanation to follow in tomorrow's entry. For now, goodnight and as usual, Keep Pedaling!!
Well to start, I clearly survived the ride from Glasgow to Edinburgh. As a matter of fact it was absolutely beautiful even though it was a tad cold (in the high 40s). The entire 50 mile stretch was along a canal were boats were busily going about their business and there are tons of other people near both ends to keep you distracted so you don't notice the miles going by. Finally I came into the city and got myself good and lost. Which, as I've learned on this trip, is a great way to really explore a city: no map, no plan, no clue. Anyways, I finally bump into another cycling tourer. Mind you, this is the first person I met so far that was doing anything close to what I was doing.
I was pretty much estatic to learn that I wasn't the only person in the world with the idea of biking a completely innapropriate about of miles in a short span of time and carrying everything I possible can in 5 or 6 bags attached to my bike. So of course we do the thing that all travellers do when they first meet and are getting to know each other. We sat down at the first bar we found and chatted for a bit while sipping (or draining) a few brewskies. Turns out he was from New Zeland and was only doing about 2000 miles but he came from Greece and was near the end of his journey as his last stop of his tour was Glasgow. Lucky him.
Anyways, I made my way over to the Forest Cafe, an alternative cafe for the young people of Edinburgh were I was supposed to meet a friend of a friend. After a while of waiting arond I asked the woman at the counter and she pointed to the guy would had been sitting next to me for the last hour. Damn!
Anyways, he showed me the place where I was going to be staying. I arranged to stay in a family friends college dorm room as she, the student, was away doing research at that time. Although we tried to arrange being in town at the same time, I unfortuantly missed her but I greatly appreciate her allowing me to stay in her room. And a fabulous room it was. I never understood the value of having a nice luxurious bed where I could actually do more than lay like a zombie until I had to camp and sleep in tiny beds for near on a month. But that fact alone made it hard for me to leave Edinburgh.
Now, onto the city itself. Edinburgh is a great city that is really two different worlds smashed up together. It has the new side where all the shopping is and the fancy restaurants. And it has the old side and by old I mean it has hundreds of castles smushed up together, each one made (by the looks of it) as if they were built to outdo the last one. Then right in the middle of "old town" there is the Royal Mile, which is a stretch of amazing architecture and castles and all kinds of fabulous looking buildings. Well needless to say but Edinburgh is a really big city.... I mean really big. I had trouble taking it all in and everytime I thought I understood something, it would change and the next day I would have to spend some time relearning.
In the end, I spent 6 days in Edinburgh.... mainly cause of the bed, but also because of the cuisine. So I've been reading this book entitled Outliers and its really made me think about things in a different way. And one of the things its made me think about is the question: "what is your personal driver? what excites you when you learn or experience it?" Well, that question in particular really baffled me because for the longest time I always made the assumption the "correct" answer to that question was money. But on this trip, thats more than impossible as all I'm doing is spending money. So I had to reexamine the question and what I came up with is...... surprise, surpise: food. Or to make it sound more zazzy: cuisine. I have really enjoyed learning about what foods drive a culture and what makes that specific food so important.
Regardless of what you might think of that answer its what I came up with so I've been going with that and so far it's been really fun, tasty and educational. So I tried some of the local cuisine in Edinburgh.... which is in Scotland.... which meant beer and Scottish whisky. And when you get right down to it, hands down, Scottich whisky clearly overtakes its American counterpart in flavour, smoothness and quality, and thats coming from a non-Whisky drinker.
To keep the story going, I decided that I had had enough of the cold. So unbeknowest to me, but the entirety of the United Kingdom is considerably cold. Of course the island part in Northern part of the world should probably have been a dead giveaway, I never really made that connection. So I decided that in order to help alleviate the issue of constantly having to battle with the cold I decided to take a train all the way down to London and cut out all those long cold days in between. This was a hard decision for me because it would mean cutting out quite a bit of my trip and missing some of the cities I was really looking forward to exploring. But weighed against the knowledge of warmer climates I was quickly swayed toward the jumping ship option and boarding a train to London.
Unfortunately I'm going to stop here for now but tomorrow morning I will pick up from arriving in London. Hope everyone reading this is well and that I'm still alive in the morning. Explanation to follow in tomorrow's entry. For now, goodnight and as usual, Keep Pedaling!!
Is It Just Me or Can You Understand Him? 05/30
Let me start by saying that I've had several requests to date my entries so I will now include the dates of each post to the right of the title. I hope it helps you follow me.
Now down to business. We last left off in our story where I was leaving Kilkenny on the road toward to Dublin. It started off surprising nice that morning with the sun out and not a cloud in the sky. There wasn't even any strong winds trying to blow me off my bike. I was reminded at how much easier and nicer it is to ride with good weather as I'm pretty sure up till then it had rained everyday of my trip. So I made it about 30 miles this way until everything, including my good mood, just stood up and jumped off a bridge. The skies decided to open up and let all hell pour down on me. Thunder, lightning, winds that did knock me off my bike (three times!) and probably some hail mixed in there. I tell you, at this point in my trip, if you had offered me a plane ride home from the side of the road I would have taken it. I was just so fed up with Irish weather and the cold and the rain and all of it.
But as Lady Luck would have it, she didn't want me to quite give up on the whole trip so early on so she sent me a little help. An 18 wheel-er must have seen me laying in the grass on the side of the road totally spralled out just getting beaten by the weather. He pulled over to the side and I got the feeling he thought I was dead because he approached me like one approaches road kill. I finally found the energy to stand up and after a short discussion he agreed to throw my bike in the back of the truck which was transporting cheese, huge wheels of the stuff bigger than my entire bike.
As soon as I sat down in the front of the truck in my soaking wet clothes I was asleep. I don't remember anything of the drive up other than getting out of the truck about 10 miles outside of Dublin. By that time I was freezing as I had been sitting in wet clothes the entire time, not having the presence of mind to change into something dry. When I arrived in Dublin I already had some idea of the place as I had studied it on the map. To give you a quick overview, the River Liffy runs right through the middle of the city and O'Connell street runs through the whole city and makes a plus sign with the river. The hostel I stayed at was called Isaacs and was situated at the head of the Liffy right by the harbor.
The first thing I did was take a long hot shower. Ahhh. I'm not sure if you realize how it feels to be somewhere completely strange, soaking wet, frozen to your core and have no way of warming up? It feels like the world is coming to and end.... and the solution= an hour long soak in a hott shower! :) The hostel even had a sauna which I took advantage of and soaked in for all of 10 minutes. Not sure if it was just me but I feel like that was the hottest sauna I have ever set foot in. I could barely stay in there and after 10 minutes was more than ready to jump ship.
As usual when I stay in hostels, I ask for the cheapest room available. All that means is they put you into a room with more beds. More beds equals less privacy, which in turn brings down the cost. In Dublin, my room had 32 beds, all of them bunkbeds. Luckily, I was able to get a bottom bed as the top ones looked a bit unstable to me. Throughout the afternoon more and more people arrived and the room began to fill up. Right before dinner two young German guys showed up and we hit it off and went out to dinner acorss the street. Max and Steve had just graduated from secondary school and were out on a little holiday before going to back to start their University education.
After we got dinne we all decided to sign up for this event called a Pub Crawl. For those who can't deduce what this by the name alone, its a guided pub tour where they take you around the city from pub to pub and basically get you beyond... well, you get the idea. Anyway, the whole crawl started in a little pub on the other side of the city which turned out to be a 40 minute walk, which for Dublin wasn't all that bad as there was plenty to see along the way. We fuinally found the place after making a few wrong turns and the evening was under way. The crawl costs me €10 and I thought it was all for getting the tour but apparently it included a bit more than that. To start, we got a free Guinness at each pub we arrived and a free shot of Jameson between each pub. Talk about a recipe for disaster :P
Well I won't go into all the details of the event but lets just say there wasn't much chance to stay sober for long. I met soo many really cool people that night and quite a few of them offered to house me when I went through their part of the world. Thank goodness for Facebook.
I slept in the next morning. I woke up around noon and went and got some breakfast. BTW, ever heard of a traditional Irish breakfast. Yeah, apparently its a tourist trap and none of the locals eat it. They all said the same thing. "Sure its fine, if you like 2 pounds of fried fat stuffed into your face first thing in the morning." I opted for toast and jelly. Around 1:30 I made my way over to the Guinness Factory which they call the Storehouse. Even though its a bit pricey, I would definitely recommend anyone going to Dublin to stop by here. The first thing I did went I started the tour (at 2 PM) was go to the bar and get a free pint of Guinness which I drank during the tour. IT WAS AMAZING! They take you through the history of Guinness, how it's made, where all the ingredients come from and much, much more. Some of the highlights were they let you taste the grain they use to make Guinness. I even spent 30 minutes watching all the old Guinness commercials from today until back in the 1950s. I was sorely tempted to spend quite a bit of money in the Guinness store on the ground level.
Not to get off subject but that makes me think of another issue I had when I first came over here. So I know this probably makes me sound uneducated but did you know that they don't call the first floor here "the first floor?" NO. They call it the ground floor and the floor above that is the first floor. So if you ever take the lift (elevator) when your over here and your trying to go out the front door of a building, press the "0" (zero) button because its really the first floor and not some sort of basement. UGH, so annoying.
Ok, back to Dublin. At the top of the tour they have a sky bar which it one of the highest points in the whole city and you get another free pint. So while you enjoy your Guinness with all your new found knowledge of the fine drink you get to sit there and watch the city breathe and live and go about its day. So right after I went to the Guinness Storehouse I went over to the Old Jameson Distillery, because you know, drinking a few pints of Guinness in the early afternoon wasn't enough. So the Jameson tour wasn't nearly as good as the Guinness tour but still very interesting and a must see if your ever in Dublin.
It was much the same as the Guinness tour where they take you through the history and how its made. The big difference is whats at the end. In the Guinness tour they give you a free pint. At Jameson they give you a sample of 3 different whiskies. An American, Jack Daniels, a mystery one, and Jameson. I'm not particularly a fan of whisky but heck, I already paid for it in my tour so why not. It was only 4 in the afternoon. So when I say sample I'm talking about a full on shot and shoot it I did. Talk about a major differnece. I would seriously recommend any non believers (of age) to go home and try this experiment even if you don't like whisky. There is a HUGE difference between the flavors and the quality of the American version and the Irish whisky. If in the future I find myself forced to drink whisky, I will be choosing Jameson from now on!
Well that sums up all the major events I did when I was in Dublin. Other than that, I took a walking tour in the freezing cold winds, saw the castles, city hall and toured the local prison which turned out to be pretty cool. In total I spend about 60 hours in Dublin and I was itching to be back on the road again. But in all honesty after "relaxing" in Dublin for so long I didn't particularly feel like cycling up to Belfast which was approx. 120 miles away. So I did what any good tourist does in the situation and went to the local bus station. I didn't know what to expect when I got there but man was I surprised to find that from Dublin, I could literally go anywhere in Ireland and for that matter Europe by public transit. They have one amazing system over here that is all connected in some magical way. I took a bus all the way to Belfast through Newry and Lisburn. It was a beautiful drive up and you could definitely tell when you crossed the border from Ireland into Northern Ireland as there was a fence covered in graffiti with flags of both Ireland and the UK.
Crossing the border into the UK was my first real experience of changing countries in Europe and I really wasn't sure what to expect. Up until then I had a map of all the hostels in Ireland I found along the way and a good road map. I was now crossing into a place where I had no idea about anything, where anything was, how to get anywhere and everything else. It was a bit nerve-racking to be honest. In the end I managed to find a decent looking hostel and get my bearings. I was put into a 6 person room with the only other occupant being a 30 year old Dane (from Danish=Denmark). He was a local and moving out of town due to work. He was staying in the hostel cause he had already moved all his stuff to Singapore and had another few days of work in Belfast. He showed me all the local sights and basically gave me a private tour of the city. Really nice guy, although he was an Engineer! We ended the first day by going to see a local band play at a cheap bar which was nice. Although I couldn't understand a word of what the band said the cider on tap was good.
My second day in Belfast was this past Friday and there was some sort of huge festival going on during the day. They basically shut down the city center to let hundreds of vendors set up shop and hawk their goods. It felt very much like a giant Farmer's Market to me except the whole city seemed to have turned up. I eventually found a guy selling fresh made Macaroons and proceeded to buy a few. Even though they were coconut I still really enjoyed them. Later that day I took a self guided tour of the National Botanical gardens right next to Queens University. Absolutely beautiful does not do justice to how they make you feel. Huge oaks and maples and every kind of plant and tree imaginable all in one place all cramped together in the middle of a city. Really brings out a whole other side of you.
Anyway, I didn't particularly care to much for Belfast. The city was very much rundown and much of it was clearly in financial trouble and more than half the buildings were "to let" (for rent). I decided I was going to bike 40 miles North to a town called Larne to catch a ferry to Scotland. Everyone who I asked for directions gave me the same bit of advice. Bike to the coast and just follow it up till you see signs for Larne. So that's exactly what I did. It was about 10 miles till I finally found the coast and another 30 going up to Larne. This was the first time I had actually ridden along the coast line and wow. Phenomenal. I took quite a few pictures because the views you got were just that amazing although it was rather difficult to stop on a tiny two lane road with a cliff on one side and a wall of stone on the other. Really made me feel like I was cycling in the Tour de France as much of the ride was downhill and I constantly had to ride the breaks.
I finally made into town and followed the signs to the harbour. When I found the building that housed the ferry services I let out a sigh of relief as it was not exactly an easy place to find. So my intention was to take the ferry from Larne to Troon and ride to Glasgow as it was still early and the ferry ride was only supposed to be 2 hours.... As luck would have it, the ferry I was supposed to catch was broken down and wouldn't be there for 2 days. Ok, plan B. I asked when the next ferry going over to Scotland was and they said the only one leaving today goes to Cairnryan (not sure on the spelling) and was leving in 10 minutes. I rode as hard as I could to the place to where the lady had directed me and just caught the ferry in time. PHEW!!
They made me stow away my bike with the rest of the passengers luggage and I was directed up to the waiting area. Unforunately it didn't occur to me that I was still in all my riding clothing and wet from the mist coming off the coast. Damn! I figured I could just suck it up and spend a bit of time in my wet clothes and no harm done. What I didn't know was that the ferry I was on was going to have some sort of problem and have to stop half way across the river for 4 hours!! What was supposed to be a 2 hour ferry ride turned into a 6 hour ferry ride! Not cool. When we finally landed they offered to give us a bus ride up to Troon to make up for the cancelled ferry and I quickly jumped on. So at this point it was around midnight when we finally landed and the bus took off. It was another 4 or 5 hours or so before the bus finally pulled into Troon.
At this point, completely and utterly exhausted, I was ready to give up... again. But after a chat with the bus driver, I managed to convince him to give me a lift up to Glasgow FREE OF CHARGE! Kind of awesome in my book. I kind of half slept the whole way up but in all it was a terrible time and I was exhausted when we finally got into the town. He dropped me off right on the edge of the city and I finally found my way to a hostel which turned out to be booked solid. They directed me to another hostel on the other side of town which luckily had a bed which I quickly took up.
At this point I was sick, literally. For my entire time here in Glasgow which is where I am now, I've been laying around the hostel trying to recover and sleeping. 2 days of nothing but relaxing and I'm still not back to 100% but my legs are getting the itch to travel and move on to somewhere new. So today I'm going to make the 50 mile bike ride from here to Edinburgh along what I've been told is a beautiful canal. Well my fingers are killing me and I'm finally all caught up in my blog. A good day in my world. Now I just have to survive the trip and life will be peachy :P Thanks for reading and as always, KEEP PEDALING!
Now down to business. We last left off in our story where I was leaving Kilkenny on the road toward to Dublin. It started off surprising nice that morning with the sun out and not a cloud in the sky. There wasn't even any strong winds trying to blow me off my bike. I was reminded at how much easier and nicer it is to ride with good weather as I'm pretty sure up till then it had rained everyday of my trip. So I made it about 30 miles this way until everything, including my good mood, just stood up and jumped off a bridge. The skies decided to open up and let all hell pour down on me. Thunder, lightning, winds that did knock me off my bike (three times!) and probably some hail mixed in there. I tell you, at this point in my trip, if you had offered me a plane ride home from the side of the road I would have taken it. I was just so fed up with Irish weather and the cold and the rain and all of it.
But as Lady Luck would have it, she didn't want me to quite give up on the whole trip so early on so she sent me a little help. An 18 wheel-er must have seen me laying in the grass on the side of the road totally spralled out just getting beaten by the weather. He pulled over to the side and I got the feeling he thought I was dead because he approached me like one approaches road kill. I finally found the energy to stand up and after a short discussion he agreed to throw my bike in the back of the truck which was transporting cheese, huge wheels of the stuff bigger than my entire bike.
As soon as I sat down in the front of the truck in my soaking wet clothes I was asleep. I don't remember anything of the drive up other than getting out of the truck about 10 miles outside of Dublin. By that time I was freezing as I had been sitting in wet clothes the entire time, not having the presence of mind to change into something dry. When I arrived in Dublin I already had some idea of the place as I had studied it on the map. To give you a quick overview, the River Liffy runs right through the middle of the city and O'Connell street runs through the whole city and makes a plus sign with the river. The hostel I stayed at was called Isaacs and was situated at the head of the Liffy right by the harbor.
The first thing I did was take a long hot shower. Ahhh. I'm not sure if you realize how it feels to be somewhere completely strange, soaking wet, frozen to your core and have no way of warming up? It feels like the world is coming to and end.... and the solution= an hour long soak in a hott shower! :) The hostel even had a sauna which I took advantage of and soaked in for all of 10 minutes. Not sure if it was just me but I feel like that was the hottest sauna I have ever set foot in. I could barely stay in there and after 10 minutes was more than ready to jump ship.
As usual when I stay in hostels, I ask for the cheapest room available. All that means is they put you into a room with more beds. More beds equals less privacy, which in turn brings down the cost. In Dublin, my room had 32 beds, all of them bunkbeds. Luckily, I was able to get a bottom bed as the top ones looked a bit unstable to me. Throughout the afternoon more and more people arrived and the room began to fill up. Right before dinner two young German guys showed up and we hit it off and went out to dinner acorss the street. Max and Steve had just graduated from secondary school and were out on a little holiday before going to back to start their University education.
After we got dinne we all decided to sign up for this event called a Pub Crawl. For those who can't deduce what this by the name alone, its a guided pub tour where they take you around the city from pub to pub and basically get you beyond... well, you get the idea. Anyway, the whole crawl started in a little pub on the other side of the city which turned out to be a 40 minute walk, which for Dublin wasn't all that bad as there was plenty to see along the way. We fuinally found the place after making a few wrong turns and the evening was under way. The crawl costs me €10 and I thought it was all for getting the tour but apparently it included a bit more than that. To start, we got a free Guinness at each pub we arrived and a free shot of Jameson between each pub. Talk about a recipe for disaster :P
Well I won't go into all the details of the event but lets just say there wasn't much chance to stay sober for long. I met soo many really cool people that night and quite a few of them offered to house me when I went through their part of the world. Thank goodness for Facebook.
I slept in the next morning. I woke up around noon and went and got some breakfast. BTW, ever heard of a traditional Irish breakfast. Yeah, apparently its a tourist trap and none of the locals eat it. They all said the same thing. "Sure its fine, if you like 2 pounds of fried fat stuffed into your face first thing in the morning." I opted for toast and jelly. Around 1:30 I made my way over to the Guinness Factory which they call the Storehouse. Even though its a bit pricey, I would definitely recommend anyone going to Dublin to stop by here. The first thing I did went I started the tour (at 2 PM) was go to the bar and get a free pint of Guinness which I drank during the tour. IT WAS AMAZING! They take you through the history of Guinness, how it's made, where all the ingredients come from and much, much more. Some of the highlights were they let you taste the grain they use to make Guinness. I even spent 30 minutes watching all the old Guinness commercials from today until back in the 1950s. I was sorely tempted to spend quite a bit of money in the Guinness store on the ground level.
Not to get off subject but that makes me think of another issue I had when I first came over here. So I know this probably makes me sound uneducated but did you know that they don't call the first floor here "the first floor?" NO. They call it the ground floor and the floor above that is the first floor. So if you ever take the lift (elevator) when your over here and your trying to go out the front door of a building, press the "0" (zero) button because its really the first floor and not some sort of basement. UGH, so annoying.
Ok, back to Dublin. At the top of the tour they have a sky bar which it one of the highest points in the whole city and you get another free pint. So while you enjoy your Guinness with all your new found knowledge of the fine drink you get to sit there and watch the city breathe and live and go about its day. So right after I went to the Guinness Storehouse I went over to the Old Jameson Distillery, because you know, drinking a few pints of Guinness in the early afternoon wasn't enough. So the Jameson tour wasn't nearly as good as the Guinness tour but still very interesting and a must see if your ever in Dublin.
It was much the same as the Guinness tour where they take you through the history and how its made. The big difference is whats at the end. In the Guinness tour they give you a free pint. At Jameson they give you a sample of 3 different whiskies. An American, Jack Daniels, a mystery one, and Jameson. I'm not particularly a fan of whisky but heck, I already paid for it in my tour so why not. It was only 4 in the afternoon. So when I say sample I'm talking about a full on shot and shoot it I did. Talk about a major differnece. I would seriously recommend any non believers (of age) to go home and try this experiment even if you don't like whisky. There is a HUGE difference between the flavors and the quality of the American version and the Irish whisky. If in the future I find myself forced to drink whisky, I will be choosing Jameson from now on!
Well that sums up all the major events I did when I was in Dublin. Other than that, I took a walking tour in the freezing cold winds, saw the castles, city hall and toured the local prison which turned out to be pretty cool. In total I spend about 60 hours in Dublin and I was itching to be back on the road again. But in all honesty after "relaxing" in Dublin for so long I didn't particularly feel like cycling up to Belfast which was approx. 120 miles away. So I did what any good tourist does in the situation and went to the local bus station. I didn't know what to expect when I got there but man was I surprised to find that from Dublin, I could literally go anywhere in Ireland and for that matter Europe by public transit. They have one amazing system over here that is all connected in some magical way. I took a bus all the way to Belfast through Newry and Lisburn. It was a beautiful drive up and you could definitely tell when you crossed the border from Ireland into Northern Ireland as there was a fence covered in graffiti with flags of both Ireland and the UK.
Crossing the border into the UK was my first real experience of changing countries in Europe and I really wasn't sure what to expect. Up until then I had a map of all the hostels in Ireland I found along the way and a good road map. I was now crossing into a place where I had no idea about anything, where anything was, how to get anywhere and everything else. It was a bit nerve-racking to be honest. In the end I managed to find a decent looking hostel and get my bearings. I was put into a 6 person room with the only other occupant being a 30 year old Dane (from Danish=Denmark). He was a local and moving out of town due to work. He was staying in the hostel cause he had already moved all his stuff to Singapore and had another few days of work in Belfast. He showed me all the local sights and basically gave me a private tour of the city. Really nice guy, although he was an Engineer! We ended the first day by going to see a local band play at a cheap bar which was nice. Although I couldn't understand a word of what the band said the cider on tap was good.
My second day in Belfast was this past Friday and there was some sort of huge festival going on during the day. They basically shut down the city center to let hundreds of vendors set up shop and hawk their goods. It felt very much like a giant Farmer's Market to me except the whole city seemed to have turned up. I eventually found a guy selling fresh made Macaroons and proceeded to buy a few. Even though they were coconut I still really enjoyed them. Later that day I took a self guided tour of the National Botanical gardens right next to Queens University. Absolutely beautiful does not do justice to how they make you feel. Huge oaks and maples and every kind of plant and tree imaginable all in one place all cramped together in the middle of a city. Really brings out a whole other side of you.
Anyway, I didn't particularly care to much for Belfast. The city was very much rundown and much of it was clearly in financial trouble and more than half the buildings were "to let" (for rent). I decided I was going to bike 40 miles North to a town called Larne to catch a ferry to Scotland. Everyone who I asked for directions gave me the same bit of advice. Bike to the coast and just follow it up till you see signs for Larne. So that's exactly what I did. It was about 10 miles till I finally found the coast and another 30 going up to Larne. This was the first time I had actually ridden along the coast line and wow. Phenomenal. I took quite a few pictures because the views you got were just that amazing although it was rather difficult to stop on a tiny two lane road with a cliff on one side and a wall of stone on the other. Really made me feel like I was cycling in the Tour de France as much of the ride was downhill and I constantly had to ride the breaks.
I finally made into town and followed the signs to the harbour. When I found the building that housed the ferry services I let out a sigh of relief as it was not exactly an easy place to find. So my intention was to take the ferry from Larne to Troon and ride to Glasgow as it was still early and the ferry ride was only supposed to be 2 hours.... As luck would have it, the ferry I was supposed to catch was broken down and wouldn't be there for 2 days. Ok, plan B. I asked when the next ferry going over to Scotland was and they said the only one leaving today goes to Cairnryan (not sure on the spelling) and was leving in 10 minutes. I rode as hard as I could to the place to where the lady had directed me and just caught the ferry in time. PHEW!!
They made me stow away my bike with the rest of the passengers luggage and I was directed up to the waiting area. Unforunately it didn't occur to me that I was still in all my riding clothing and wet from the mist coming off the coast. Damn! I figured I could just suck it up and spend a bit of time in my wet clothes and no harm done. What I didn't know was that the ferry I was on was going to have some sort of problem and have to stop half way across the river for 4 hours!! What was supposed to be a 2 hour ferry ride turned into a 6 hour ferry ride! Not cool. When we finally landed they offered to give us a bus ride up to Troon to make up for the cancelled ferry and I quickly jumped on. So at this point it was around midnight when we finally landed and the bus took off. It was another 4 or 5 hours or so before the bus finally pulled into Troon.
At this point, completely and utterly exhausted, I was ready to give up... again. But after a chat with the bus driver, I managed to convince him to give me a lift up to Glasgow FREE OF CHARGE! Kind of awesome in my book. I kind of half slept the whole way up but in all it was a terrible time and I was exhausted when we finally got into the town. He dropped me off right on the edge of the city and I finally found my way to a hostel which turned out to be booked solid. They directed me to another hostel on the other side of town which luckily had a bed which I quickly took up.
At this point I was sick, literally. For my entire time here in Glasgow which is where I am now, I've been laying around the hostel trying to recover and sleeping. 2 days of nothing but relaxing and I'm still not back to 100% but my legs are getting the itch to travel and move on to somewhere new. So today I'm going to make the 50 mile bike ride from here to Edinburgh along what I've been told is a beautiful canal. Well my fingers are killing me and I'm finally all caught up in my blog. A good day in my world. Now I just have to survive the trip and life will be peachy :P Thanks for reading and as always, KEEP PEDALING!
Belfast Is Most Certainly Part of the UK
So here I was sitting in the library in Dublin when the whole power to the building cuts out and what do you think happens to poor old Jeff who was in the middle of updating his blog?
Anyway, picking up from where I left off, again: I had met another cyclist outside of Waterford who told me I should totally skip the city and head out to the coast in County Wexford. Being the good tourist I took his advice and went on my merry way without thinking twice about the validity of his statement. Since then I have come to the conclusion that everyone on this stinking island (including Northern Ireland) thinks everywhere else on the island is a terrible stink-hole. I'm fairly certain people have only said nice things about their own town or city or neighbourhood and regarded the rest of the country as a bomb waiting to explode.
So I went through out to the coast which was absolutely beautiful and got my feet a bit wet on the pebble beach. I had never seen a pebble beach before in my life, only sand, but it was still rather beautiful. The same day I journeyed Northwest to a little town called New Ross as I heard there was a hostel out that way. I hope that when a tourist asks for directions to anywhere it would be pretty obvious, especially if they were on a bike, that you would tell them there was a mountain range in between here and there. Ladies and gentleman, the Wicklow mountains, where the water for Guinness comes from, may be small compared to some, but its still a blooming set of mountains.
It was right as I was coming out of Wicklow that I figured out how to the conversion between Celsius and Fahrenheit. A little late in life, yes, but better sooner than later. So what I knew as 9 C was actually (9*2+32) 50 degrees Fahrenheit, a wee bit cold for cycling but heck, I'm obviously still alive. So here it is around 7 PM and I finally make it into New Ross which multiple people had assured me would have a hostel. I get into town..... oh yeah, there's no hostel around here. UGH. Sometimes I hate it how the Irish, even if they have no clue, will try to give you directions.
So I stumbled into the first decent looking pub for a drink cause that's exactly what the situation called for and ran into an adult choir competition in mid-swing. I had just gotten to the bar when two older girls, maybe late 60s, started up a conversation with me. *If you had seen a mud covered 20 something who hadn't shaved in a month and that reeked of sea water, you'd want to chat me up too* Anyway, after I told them my story and that I was looking for a hostel or at least somewhere cheap to stay, they became my soldiers. They literally said "wait here" and I didn't understand at first but was really just too tired to argue. They came back after another 90 minutes after scouring the town on my behalf and came back with the info that there was a hostel about 4km outside of town on a local farm. At that point I was ready to sleep at the bar but they offered to throw my bike in their car and drive me there. And a good thing to. It turns out that this place was down a COUNTRY LANE. Which in Ireland apparently means a 5km dirt/gravel/mud path barely wide enough for 4 people to stand abreast down a huge hill and up another equally large one.
Of course, it was all the way at the end. Although, it turned out to be a beautiful farm with goats, pigs, cows and lots of dogs just running around at random. I arrived around 9 PM and there was no one there so I looked around for a shower and finally found one in the barn. I'm fairly certainly it wasn't designed for human use but hey, I really needed it after the day I'd had. Around 10 PM when I was just about to go to sleep a French couple on holiday came in to the barn where I had set up camp and started unpacking. I was thinking "great, just what I need right now. A bunch of French people yapping away." Talk about being wrong. The first thing they unloaded was near 4 dozen bottles of wine. And like stereotypical French people they set upon it right away. After about 15 minutes of listening to them eat and drink and my belly churn, I went over and introduced myself.
Before I even got there names I had a plate of food and a glass of wine in my hands. Brownie points in my book. Between the man and woman they had about 100 words of English and a translation book which made for an interesting conversation, but after my 10 or so glass of REALLY good wine the conversation became increasingly easy. Around what must have been well past midnight they broke out several bottles of champaign and we quickly devoured 3 bottles. I don't remember much after that but I do remember waking up refreshed and ready to start my next day. Although my new French friends didn't seem all that willing to wake up the next morning :P
Entry continued on In the Headlights tab.
Anyway, picking up from where I left off, again: I had met another cyclist outside of Waterford who told me I should totally skip the city and head out to the coast in County Wexford. Being the good tourist I took his advice and went on my merry way without thinking twice about the validity of his statement. Since then I have come to the conclusion that everyone on this stinking island (including Northern Ireland) thinks everywhere else on the island is a terrible stink-hole. I'm fairly certain people have only said nice things about their own town or city or neighbourhood and regarded the rest of the country as a bomb waiting to explode.
So I went through out to the coast which was absolutely beautiful and got my feet a bit wet on the pebble beach. I had never seen a pebble beach before in my life, only sand, but it was still rather beautiful. The same day I journeyed Northwest to a little town called New Ross as I heard there was a hostel out that way. I hope that when a tourist asks for directions to anywhere it would be pretty obvious, especially if they were on a bike, that you would tell them there was a mountain range in between here and there. Ladies and gentleman, the Wicklow mountains, where the water for Guinness comes from, may be small compared to some, but its still a blooming set of mountains.
It was right as I was coming out of Wicklow that I figured out how to the conversion between Celsius and Fahrenheit. A little late in life, yes, but better sooner than later. So what I knew as 9 C was actually (9*2+32) 50 degrees Fahrenheit, a wee bit cold for cycling but heck, I'm obviously still alive. So here it is around 7 PM and I finally make it into New Ross which multiple people had assured me would have a hostel. I get into town..... oh yeah, there's no hostel around here. UGH. Sometimes I hate it how the Irish, even if they have no clue, will try to give you directions.
So I stumbled into the first decent looking pub for a drink cause that's exactly what the situation called for and ran into an adult choir competition in mid-swing. I had just gotten to the bar when two older girls, maybe late 60s, started up a conversation with me. *If you had seen a mud covered 20 something who hadn't shaved in a month and that reeked of sea water, you'd want to chat me up too* Anyway, after I told them my story and that I was looking for a hostel or at least somewhere cheap to stay, they became my soldiers. They literally said "wait here" and I didn't understand at first but was really just too tired to argue. They came back after another 90 minutes after scouring the town on my behalf and came back with the info that there was a hostel about 4km outside of town on a local farm. At that point I was ready to sleep at the bar but they offered to throw my bike in their car and drive me there. And a good thing to. It turns out that this place was down a COUNTRY LANE. Which in Ireland apparently means a 5km dirt/gravel/mud path barely wide enough for 4 people to stand abreast down a huge hill and up another equally large one.
Of course, it was all the way at the end. Although, it turned out to be a beautiful farm with goats, pigs, cows and lots of dogs just running around at random. I arrived around 9 PM and there was no one there so I looked around for a shower and finally found one in the barn. I'm fairly certainly it wasn't designed for human use but hey, I really needed it after the day I'd had. Around 10 PM when I was just about to go to sleep a French couple on holiday came in to the barn where I had set up camp and started unpacking. I was thinking "great, just what I need right now. A bunch of French people yapping away." Talk about being wrong. The first thing they unloaded was near 4 dozen bottles of wine. And like stereotypical French people they set upon it right away. After about 15 minutes of listening to them eat and drink and my belly churn, I went over and introduced myself.
Before I even got there names I had a plate of food and a glass of wine in my hands. Brownie points in my book. Between the man and woman they had about 100 words of English and a translation book which made for an interesting conversation, but after my 10 or so glass of REALLY good wine the conversation became increasingly easy. Around what must have been well past midnight they broke out several bottles of champaign and we quickly devoured 3 bottles. I don't remember much after that but I do remember waking up refreshed and ready to start my next day. Although my new French friends didn't seem all that willing to wake up the next morning :P
Entry continued on In the Headlights tab.
My Last Night in Ireland! And National Fish and Chips Day.
Hello Everyone- I hope everyone is enjoying the warm American weather. And I apologize for the randomness of these posts but it's been hard to find a computer with decent internet to put up posts. Anyways, lets start by saying I've learned a lot about Irish weather. Ireland has great weather if you like 45 degree days and even colder nights, if you like hail in your face in the middle of May and winds that can literally knock you off your bike!!!
But enough of my griping, let's pick up where I left off last time: So I left you all with my home or hostel cooked dinner which I savored for hours after finishing eat and finished it all off with a evening tea. Now I drank tea back in the States but never have I had such good tea as I've had here. Although when I went to go look in the local supermarket to pick up some of my own, I got absolutely lost in the million of choices they had. By no means is this an over exaggeration but they had an entire isle (a small one) but an still an entire hostel. Anways, I took off the next day after having no breakfast as all the mountianeers had gone off earlier and there was no store in the tiny town I was in.
I rode all the way up to Carrick-on-Suir then down the motorway (highway) which was totally illegal but luckily it was totally deserted. I took it all the way downt to Waterford where I stopped and talked with another cyclist before taking the hour detour to go into the city. He informed me that he lived in Waterford and said that I should totally just bypass the whole city as there was nothing worth going to see and he recommended going up to County Wexford as there was more to see.....
But enough of my griping, let's pick up where I left off last time: So I left you all with my home or hostel cooked dinner which I savored for hours after finishing eat and finished it all off with a evening tea. Now I drank tea back in the States but never have I had such good tea as I've had here. Although when I went to go look in the local supermarket to pick up some of my own, I got absolutely lost in the million of choices they had. By no means is this an over exaggeration but they had an entire isle (a small one) but an still an entire hostel. Anways, I took off the next day after having no breakfast as all the mountianeers had gone off earlier and there was no store in the tiny town I was in.
I rode all the way up to Carrick-on-Suir then down the motorway (highway) which was totally illegal but luckily it was totally deserted. I took it all the way downt to Waterford where I stopped and talked with another cyclist before taking the hour detour to go into the city. He informed me that he lived in Waterford and said that I should totally just bypass the whole city as there was nothing worth going to see and he recommended going up to County Wexford as there was more to see.....
From Coast to Coast
Hey Everyone- Hope your all enjoying better weather than we're having over here in Ireland. For those who, like me, had no idea about what Irish weather was like it includes things like rain, hail, snow flurries, vertical rain and 60+ mile an hour winds! So right about not your probably thinking, is Jeff mad, its MAY!! Yeah, exactly my thought but apparently that doesn't matter to the skies above Ireland because I've had it all and more in the past 5 days.
Waking up this morning marks my 6th day in Ireland so almost a whole week. And i sorely apologize to everyone hoping for a blog entry over the past few days but its been one wild ride, one completely without internet access. Right now I'm staying in the town of Kilkenny which is a 2 hours drive Southwest of Dublin (120 kilometeres or about 75 miles). But as luck would have it, by the end of today, even if it kills me I will end my day in Dublin!!!
So in as much detail as possible, let's go over what's happened over the past 4 days. From Limerick I biked to Tipperary which I was hoping would have a hostel. But before I could even get a mile it started to down pour! I wound up making it to Tipperary after 3 hours of getting lost, going and extra 10 miles and finding a very nice gas station attendant who baked me a turnover... DELIICOUS :)
After arriving in Tipperary to find there was no hostel I continued on to Cashel, the nearest town where I had heard there might be a hostel. And sure enough, the rain just kept coming. So I arrive in Cashel soaking wet and take the first bed they offer me and totally crash. To add some background information here, I don't have a watch and my phone has been dead since I landed in Ireland so I have no idea what time it was. Anyways, I woke up sometime later and it was still light out. Mind you, in Ireland the sun rises at 6:00 AM and sets around 9:30 PM, kind of wild. But anyway, I wake up and follow my nose to the kitchen where a nice Indian family was eating dinner and they offered me a bowl of whatever dish they were eating. Although they didn't speak any English between the 5 of them, it was a nice dinner all the same, although the food didn't exactly agree with me afterwards :P
I pretty much zonked out right after finishing dinner but I did find out that I had just missed the Queen of England who had been in town earlier that day. Because thats just something you can brush off as a side comment!! Apparently she was in town to see the Rock of Cashel (featured below). Hell, I figured if it was good enough for the Queen to go see I should go check it out too. And man was it big!! You can't tell from the picutre but to give you some idea of the size, the wall running around the edge of it was 30 feet tall. Imagine for a moment being a soldier and trying to invade a castle like that with scalling ladders?! Yeah, I would build seige engines.
My next day I set out for Waterford but the rain must have turned me around in the middle somewhere and I got compeletly lost. The long and short of it was I wound up cycling through the Comeragh Mountains!! So for those of you who have ever had to do anything in the rain with clothes on, you know just how much weight that adds to your person. Imagine cycling with 4 soaked bags, soaked clothes (in shorts, mind you!) with water filled shoes and your glasses fogged beyond anything. Not exactly a pleseant experience.
I finally found a hostel on the top of one of the mountains I was trying to get out of and just completely gave up when I saw it. I must have got there around 9:30 because the sun was setting behind me when I pulled in. And what do you know, it was already playing host to a troop of Montaineers for the weekend and didn't have a single bed. But don't let anyone tell you that the Irish aren't nice people because they not only cooked me a real Irish dinner, scone and all but they dried my clothes and found me a couch to crash on. Talk about a nice way to end the day. The best lesson out of all that was that I've never eaten a real scone, just some nonsense American version. I wish I had that recipe cause it was like nothing else. Well that's all the time I have on this library computer. I will finish this entry when I get to Dublin.... if i can (wink wink).
Waking up this morning marks my 6th day in Ireland so almost a whole week. And i sorely apologize to everyone hoping for a blog entry over the past few days but its been one wild ride, one completely without internet access. Right now I'm staying in the town of Kilkenny which is a 2 hours drive Southwest of Dublin (120 kilometeres or about 75 miles). But as luck would have it, by the end of today, even if it kills me I will end my day in Dublin!!!
So in as much detail as possible, let's go over what's happened over the past 4 days. From Limerick I biked to Tipperary which I was hoping would have a hostel. But before I could even get a mile it started to down pour! I wound up making it to Tipperary after 3 hours of getting lost, going and extra 10 miles and finding a very nice gas station attendant who baked me a turnover... DELIICOUS :)
After arriving in Tipperary to find there was no hostel I continued on to Cashel, the nearest town where I had heard there might be a hostel. And sure enough, the rain just kept coming. So I arrive in Cashel soaking wet and take the first bed they offer me and totally crash. To add some background information here, I don't have a watch and my phone has been dead since I landed in Ireland so I have no idea what time it was. Anyways, I woke up sometime later and it was still light out. Mind you, in Ireland the sun rises at 6:00 AM and sets around 9:30 PM, kind of wild. But anyway, I wake up and follow my nose to the kitchen where a nice Indian family was eating dinner and they offered me a bowl of whatever dish they were eating. Although they didn't speak any English between the 5 of them, it was a nice dinner all the same, although the food didn't exactly agree with me afterwards :P
I pretty much zonked out right after finishing dinner but I did find out that I had just missed the Queen of England who had been in town earlier that day. Because thats just something you can brush off as a side comment!! Apparently she was in town to see the Rock of Cashel (featured below). Hell, I figured if it was good enough for the Queen to go see I should go check it out too. And man was it big!! You can't tell from the picutre but to give you some idea of the size, the wall running around the edge of it was 30 feet tall. Imagine for a moment being a soldier and trying to invade a castle like that with scalling ladders?! Yeah, I would build seige engines.
My next day I set out for Waterford but the rain must have turned me around in the middle somewhere and I got compeletly lost. The long and short of it was I wound up cycling through the Comeragh Mountains!! So for those of you who have ever had to do anything in the rain with clothes on, you know just how much weight that adds to your person. Imagine cycling with 4 soaked bags, soaked clothes (in shorts, mind you!) with water filled shoes and your glasses fogged beyond anything. Not exactly a pleseant experience.
I finally found a hostel on the top of one of the mountains I was trying to get out of and just completely gave up when I saw it. I must have got there around 9:30 because the sun was setting behind me when I pulled in. And what do you know, it was already playing host to a troop of Montaineers for the weekend and didn't have a single bed. But don't let anyone tell you that the Irish aren't nice people because they not only cooked me a real Irish dinner, scone and all but they dried my clothes and found me a couch to crash on. Talk about a nice way to end the day. The best lesson out of all that was that I've never eaten a real scone, just some nonsense American version. I wish I had that recipe cause it was like nothing else. Well that's all the time I have on this library computer. I will finish this entry when I get to Dublin.... if i can (wink wink).
Outline of the Trip
Hey everyone. I know its been awhile since I've posted anything up here but its time to start getting back in the swing of things and updating this site and the accompanying blog called 'Anything But Cycling' as well. As many of you already know, my flight for Ireland leaves in a little over 48 hours from now, so these last few days are going to be jam packed with preparation activities for the trip. To start with, I have included 3 Google maps (below) that will give anyone interested an outline of the trip. To be clear, it by no means contains every detail and turn involved but it does reflect most of the major cities and countries I will be passing through. Hopefully these maps help put into perspective the distance I am traveling and over what kind of terrain. At the moment, the trip stands at a little less than 4,000 miles!
From The Leaning Tower of Pizza to a Country Smaller than Rhode Island then off to the Hot Dog City (Frankfurt) and finally ending up in the New Youth Capital of Europe
Talk about a long title for a entry. It must be some kind of a clue that this next part of the trip is going to be wrought with wild adventure :) Well, lets start by breaking it down Country by Country. First on the list is: France
France, a country seemingly built on stereotypes. However, this beautiful country and unique language have much to offer. The foremost of these offerings reside in its capital, Paris, where most of time in France will be spent. My route follows the following trail in France:
Ferry to Dieppe -> Rouen -> Paris -> Meaux-> Chateau-Thierry -> Riems -> Buzancy/Nouart/Stenay
And just like any good tourist, I will be seeing the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre Museum amongst the other major attractions. If any Parisian locals have a suggestion I would be happy to entertain it.
Going right along, next up is: Luxembourg
My trip only includes only one stop in this beautiful country and thats the capital city of Luxembourg and immediately surrounding area. As I don't know much about the mysterious country and city I am really going there to learn about the people there and see if their banking secrets are really that secret :P
Next country on the list is: Germany
Germany is, how shall we say this, the drink-heavy portion of the trip for me. As a beer (and hot-dog/sausage) aficionado, I'm thinking some good times will most certainly be in order! Here is the Germany side of the route:
Trier -> Zell -> Bad Kreuznach -> Mainz-Kastel -> Wiesbaden -> Frankfurt
The last country on this leg of the tour: Czech Republic
The main reason I decided to visit Europe's new Youth Capital is my good friend Michael lives in downtown Praha and I plan to do some serious relaxing and going out with my man. Just another one of the many advantages of staying with a local and good friend. I'm most definitely looking forward to stay with with Michael and having wild adventures (and trying significantly hard to remember them afterwards)!
France, a country seemingly built on stereotypes. However, this beautiful country and unique language have much to offer. The foremost of these offerings reside in its capital, Paris, where most of time in France will be spent. My route follows the following trail in France:
Ferry to Dieppe -> Rouen -> Paris -> Meaux-> Chateau-Thierry -> Riems -> Buzancy/Nouart/Stenay
And just like any good tourist, I will be seeing the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre Museum amongst the other major attractions. If any Parisian locals have a suggestion I would be happy to entertain it.
Going right along, next up is: Luxembourg
My trip only includes only one stop in this beautiful country and thats the capital city of Luxembourg and immediately surrounding area. As I don't know much about the mysterious country and city I am really going there to learn about the people there and see if their banking secrets are really that secret :P
Next country on the list is: Germany
Germany is, how shall we say this, the drink-heavy portion of the trip for me. As a beer (and hot-dog/sausage) aficionado, I'm thinking some good times will most certainly be in order! Here is the Germany side of the route:
Trier -> Zell -> Bad Kreuznach -> Mainz-Kastel -> Wiesbaden -> Frankfurt
The last country on this leg of the tour: Czech Republic
The main reason I decided to visit Europe's new Youth Capital is my good friend Michael lives in downtown Praha and I plan to do some serious relaxing and going out with my man. Just another one of the many advantages of staying with a local and good friend. I'm most definitely looking forward to stay with with Michael and having wild adventures (and trying significantly hard to remember them afterwards)!
The "English" Side
Good 'ole England. Also known as the United Kingdom. From the country that brought us afternoon tea times comes the next part of the adventure. After taking the ferry from Larne to Troon I'm now into mainland England. From here starts the drinking.... cough cough, I mean fun. Currently, my route through the UK looks something like this:
Larne -> Glasgow -> Edinburgh -> Train to Leeds -> Manchester -> Liverpool -> Chester -> Telford -> Birmingham -> Coventry -> Daventry -> Milton Keynes -> London -> Seaford -> Ferry Ride to Dieppe
As for overnight accommodations ideas, please reference the In the Headlights page post headed "Friendly People Help World Travelers." I am hoping that it pans out or else I will be sleeping on the side of the road underneath trees.
And, on the off-chance that any of my readers are from the UK, what are your thoughts on English weather. Solely based off of tv, internet and movies, I'm under the impression that it rains quite a bit over in the UK. Any thoughts on the end May/beginning of June time-frame?
I'm also hoping to get a taste of some good local English Brews whilst over yonder. Besides the stuff the import into the States, any good recommendations?
Larne -> Glasgow -> Edinburgh -> Train to Leeds -> Manchester -> Liverpool -> Chester -> Telford -> Birmingham -> Coventry -> Daventry -> Milton Keynes -> London -> Seaford -> Ferry Ride to Dieppe
As for overnight accommodations ideas, please reference the In the Headlights page post headed "Friendly People Help World Travelers." I am hoping that it pans out or else I will be sleeping on the side of the road underneath trees.
And, on the off-chance that any of my readers are from the UK, what are your thoughts on English weather. Solely based off of tv, internet and movies, I'm under the impression that it rains quite a bit over in the UK. Any thoughts on the end May/beginning of June time-frame?
I'm also hoping to get a taste of some good local English Brews whilst over yonder. Besides the stuff the import into the States, any good recommendations?
The Irish Experience
For the next few days I'm going to be adding up details about each leg of the trip, including major cities I'm passing through and places I plan on seeing along the way. As you know, I'm a very flexible guy and if you have any recommendations please share them with me!
So for the first part of this trip I'm going to be flying into Shannon International Airport on Aer Lingus. They are partners with Jet Blue and for us cyclists a great option because they will transport your bike with you for free. You just have to call ahead to check their availability.
Now that we've established a start to the adventure, lets move right along. The path, at the moment is....
Shannon -> Limerick -> Clonmel -> Kilkenny -> Newbridge -> Dublin -> Drogheda -> Dundalk
As Dundalk is at the edge of what is considered Ireland (officially) these next few are in the United Kingdom, or as far as I understand it.
Dundalk -> Newry -> Bandridge -> Lisburn -> Belfast -> Larne -> Ferry ride to Troon
Again, this is only the general path I plan on taking. I am most certainly a go with the flow kind of guy when it comes to adventuring so if you have any suggestions I am more than open to changing my route.
So for the first part of this trip I'm going to be flying into Shannon International Airport on Aer Lingus. They are partners with Jet Blue and for us cyclists a great option because they will transport your bike with you for free. You just have to call ahead to check their availability.
Now that we've established a start to the adventure, lets move right along. The path, at the moment is....
Shannon -> Limerick -> Clonmel -> Kilkenny -> Newbridge -> Dublin -> Drogheda -> Dundalk
As Dundalk is at the edge of what is considered Ireland (officially) these next few are in the United Kingdom, or as far as I understand it.
Dundalk -> Newry -> Bandridge -> Lisburn -> Belfast -> Larne -> Ferry ride to Troon
Again, this is only the general path I plan on taking. I am most certainly a go with the flow kind of guy when it comes to adventuring so if you have any suggestions I am more than open to changing my route.
The Start of A Journey.
This is the very start of my website/blog thats going to share with the world, or whoever is crazy enough to follow along, my cycling adventure across europe. The kind of things you'll find on this website are how I planned for the trip, how the trip is going, photos of where I go and just how much I really know, or don't know, about cycling. I hope you'll follow me in my 4,000 mile adventure.
