I mention this a little in my previous post but had no idea of how much it would impact on our trip. Whilst cruising down from the highest pass we have crossed to date on a chilly but beautifully bright morning towards Dogubeyazit with Mount Ararat tantalisingly in view, a group of young boys ran to the side of the road. They were calling 'money, money' at us, as is the customary greeting amongst groups of Kurdish children in eastern Turkey (actually more specifically boys, there are few girls kicking around). Because they were so close I had slowed down my riding speed as I imagine it would be a fairly unpleasant experience to run someone over, I've hit rabbits in a car before, dread to think of hitting a human on a bike.
One of the boys realising no money was forthcoming decided he would take the ribbon attached to my basket instead (tied on a few days previously by another boy at the side of another road, ying/yang). Sadly rather than detaching itself it pulled the front wheel sharply to the side causing me to fall, injuring both knees but one excrutiatingly so.
This led to James pouncing on the one who didn't run away fast enough and roughing him around in the dirt a bit whilst I lay curled in a ball in the road. I'm not condoning roughing up of children but these groups of boys you get out here (this can take in anyone from age 4 - 18) are a serious hazard and after a few months of being chased and hounded by them, them chucking rocks and sticks at you for fun as well as trying to pinch stuff off your bike, weeeeeell you start to think 'actually I am gonna kick your ass man!'.
Anyway to sum up the aftershock of the incident, after being bandaged by the local women with a scrap of material with ducks on, we made it to Dogubeyazit where my knee finally became so swollen it was completely immobile. A week of waiting for it to improve saw no change and we had to get moving so it was with a heavy heart that we got a van to take us and our bikes to Tabriz in Iran. Whilst there we met a couple of other cyclists, one a doctor, the other a physio (seriously, what are the chances of that happening). They then gave the sickening news that actually it was probably going to be 3-4 weeks before I could ride again and that was the best outcome providing xrays showed all was as should be. So we bundled the bikes onto a train to Tehran for xrays to take place and to pick up visas. Thankfully all was well, it was just a waiting game, so we did our tour of Iran as backpackers with bikes. Aside from the inconvenience of backpacking with bikes and panniers (and a stuffed up knee), there was the added expense of transport, hotel bills (I couldn't camp as I couldn't bend my leg to even get in the tent, though Iran is great for camping) and as for the difficulty in using the ubiquitous squat toilets... enough said i think.
More than anything though we really missed riding. On a bus you miss all the bits in between and, actually, I like seeing the bits in between, you see all there is to see along the way, it may not always be great but who ever spotted a gerbil from a bus window?! I also like the time between sights, cycling allows me to process my experiences before I get somewhere new so I can appreciate it with a fresh mind. I don't know how backpackers do it, I'd be suffering from sensory overload, burned out on architechtural wonders and culture shock (I would also probably be in Japan already).
The experience has taught us some lessons in cycle touring though, we have now installed the biggest, fattest, loudest horns we could find to try and deafen people into giving us room and I am on the hunt for a really big stick, so packs of small/teenage boys be warned...
Wednesday, 10 December 2008
Tuesday, 14 October 2008
Güzel!
We are now approaching the end of our time in Turkey. Sitting here waiting for my poorly knee to heal before we can cross the border into Iran I'm not sure I've fully processed my Turkey experiences but if I don't do it now it will never happen and the chances are my memories would be adulterated by my Iranian experiences to be.
We have been travelling through Turkey now for about 2 months. Through lush valley's teaming with crops, bazaars with people hawking everything from antiques to leeches, endless landscapes of warm stubbled wheat fields, over so many hills and mountains some stunningly beautiful others seemingly just punishment. We have travelled along the black sea coast*, through Cappadocia's unreal landscapes of volcanic dust and caves, along empty roads through tiny villages, as well as crazed four lane carriageways into İstanbul** and by ferry across Lake Van. I have fallen in love with beautiful timbered Ottoman houses and the mosques in old towns. We have experienced Ramadan in a Muslim country as well as the sweet munching fest that follows, drank more cups of çay than I care to remember and eaten more baklava than my teeth care to remember.
*as a cyclist I would advise others against this, it is punishingly, unsatisfyingly hilly. We heard of one cyclist who became so disheartened he put his bike on the bus others just agreed it was a kak experience, Turkey has so much more to offer.
** I would advise people not to do this either, its terrifying.
Turkey has left me with mixed feelings from absolutely loving it to good grief what are they doing??? As an environmentalist I will never get over the way the Turks are literally trashing their land. From the moment we entered we saw rivers so polluted they ran brown with sewage and waste. There are huge monocultures of cereals stretching mile after mile over every possible piece of land which could be farmed. These and anything not planted are grazed relentlessly by goats, sheep and cows (including the islands which divide the lanes on the dual carriage ways). I will not deny that these are beautiful lands but with everything turned over to agriculture where does the wildlife go? I didn't see too much evidence (the roadkill was definitely of the domesticated animal variety with the occasional squashed frog or hedgehog).
Litter is discarded everywhere, on the approaches to almost every village and town people dump their rubbish. There are no bins in most towns so we ended up carrying our camp waste for miles to the nearest bin (probably to have someone dump it on the outskirts of the town for us). This is so disheartening considering how easily it could be prevented. Recycling? In İstanbul people do come and collect your cans and bottles as they can make money from it but that's it as far as I can see.
But there again I loved it, loved it, loved it. Despite the seemingly endless stream of plastic bottles, cans and disposable nappies at the sides of the roads I have also found Turkey breathtakingly beautiful. The landscape is warm, textured, rich in colours. So expansive with magnificent mountains of rock of the most unbelievable shades, layered over millennia. The landscapes through which we have ridden are so picturesque and vast at times I wanted to reach out and stroke the sumptuous curves of rolling hills or just roll around in it all (in reality this would have been quite a prickly experience).
The mountain area between Cappadocia and Malatya, ignored in the guidebooks, made for truly stunning cycling. It was certainly hilly and remote but the beauty of the scenery, the generally good and quiet road conditions as well as lovely (if bemused) people living here made it one of my favourite parts of the trip. Cappadocia as I have mentioned before is so unreal and beautiful. Combined with staying on a fantastic campsite (Kaya Camping if you ever fancy going) with lots of lovely people made for a great break with ample scrambling through caves (though I did endure the worst hangover of the trip here, I'm blaming the Germans).
People have been immensely hospitable here in a way which is virtually (and sadly) unheard of in Britain. Throughout the harvesting season people have been coming from the fields giving us more food at times than we could eat. At times when we have been about to pay for things in markets the vendor has refused our money. We have been invited to drink so much tea I would be needing rehabilitation if we had accepted and we have been invited to peoples homes to share food or simply shelter for the night during storms and just in passing. The generousity and offers of assistance have been amazing though at times as a woman I have been sidelined in favour of James e.g. asking men for directions and having them describe the route to James...Hey I'm the one with the map man! I might not know how to use it but he doesn't even have one!
As we have moved into the Kurdish area of Turkey we have taken to asking people to camp in their gardens for safety reasons (to explain the Turkish army have been bombing the PKK in Iraq, the PKK are retaliating by shooting the army in Turkey, the army told us not to rough camp or their patrols might shoot us! Just stop shooting each other man! Its also generally not too safe for women so knocking on peoples doors and camping outside family homes seemed like the best idea). Anyway every single one of these families has offered to take us in for the night, feeding us and generally caring for us the way you would a guest. At times we have offered money for food (refused) and so I have taken to being official family portrait photographer as a way of thanking them and posting them to families who have access to mail (not all do). The Kurds have been hugely hospitable and apart from some of the children who run down the road shouting 'money, money' at us and trying to pinch stuff off our bikes as a dangerous game of tag (this is why I am now laid up in Doğubeyazit with a bad knee) it has been a thoroughly rewarding ride.
In conclusion Turkey has been a land of highs, lows and vivid contradictions but overwhelmingly I will leave it with a hearty GÜZEL!*
x
*which roughly translates as just about every fantasticly, superb positive word you can think of.
We have been travelling through Turkey now for about 2 months. Through lush valley's teaming with crops, bazaars with people hawking everything from antiques to leeches, endless landscapes of warm stubbled wheat fields, over so many hills and mountains some stunningly beautiful others seemingly just punishment. We have travelled along the black sea coast*, through Cappadocia's unreal landscapes of volcanic dust and caves, along empty roads through tiny villages, as well as crazed four lane carriageways into İstanbul** and by ferry across Lake Van. I have fallen in love with beautiful timbered Ottoman houses and the mosques in old towns. We have experienced Ramadan in a Muslim country as well as the sweet munching fest that follows, drank more cups of çay than I care to remember and eaten more baklava than my teeth care to remember.
*as a cyclist I would advise others against this, it is punishingly, unsatisfyingly hilly. We heard of one cyclist who became so disheartened he put his bike on the bus others just agreed it was a kak experience, Turkey has so much more to offer.
** I would advise people not to do this either, its terrifying.
Turkey has left me with mixed feelings from absolutely loving it to good grief what are they doing??? As an environmentalist I will never get over the way the Turks are literally trashing their land. From the moment we entered we saw rivers so polluted they ran brown with sewage and waste. There are huge monocultures of cereals stretching mile after mile over every possible piece of land which could be farmed. These and anything not planted are grazed relentlessly by goats, sheep and cows (including the islands which divide the lanes on the dual carriage ways). I will not deny that these are beautiful lands but with everything turned over to agriculture where does the wildlife go? I didn't see too much evidence (the roadkill was definitely of the domesticated animal variety with the occasional squashed frog or hedgehog).
Litter is discarded everywhere, on the approaches to almost every village and town people dump their rubbish. There are no bins in most towns so we ended up carrying our camp waste for miles to the nearest bin (probably to have someone dump it on the outskirts of the town for us). This is so disheartening considering how easily it could be prevented. Recycling? In İstanbul people do come and collect your cans and bottles as they can make money from it but that's it as far as I can see.
But there again I loved it, loved it, loved it. Despite the seemingly endless stream of plastic bottles, cans and disposable nappies at the sides of the roads I have also found Turkey breathtakingly beautiful. The landscape is warm, textured, rich in colours. So expansive with magnificent mountains of rock of the most unbelievable shades, layered over millennia. The landscapes through which we have ridden are so picturesque and vast at times I wanted to reach out and stroke the sumptuous curves of rolling hills or just roll around in it all (in reality this would have been quite a prickly experience).
The mountain area between Cappadocia and Malatya, ignored in the guidebooks, made for truly stunning cycling. It was certainly hilly and remote but the beauty of the scenery, the generally good and quiet road conditions as well as lovely (if bemused) people living here made it one of my favourite parts of the trip. Cappadocia as I have mentioned before is so unreal and beautiful. Combined with staying on a fantastic campsite (Kaya Camping if you ever fancy going) with lots of lovely people made for a great break with ample scrambling through caves (though I did endure the worst hangover of the trip here, I'm blaming the Germans).
People have been immensely hospitable here in a way which is virtually (and sadly) unheard of in Britain. Throughout the harvesting season people have been coming from the fields giving us more food at times than we could eat. At times when we have been about to pay for things in markets the vendor has refused our money. We have been invited to drink so much tea I would be needing rehabilitation if we had accepted and we have been invited to peoples homes to share food or simply shelter for the night during storms and just in passing. The generousity and offers of assistance have been amazing though at times as a woman I have been sidelined in favour of James e.g. asking men for directions and having them describe the route to James...Hey I'm the one with the map man! I might not know how to use it but he doesn't even have one!
As we have moved into the Kurdish area of Turkey we have taken to asking people to camp in their gardens for safety reasons (to explain the Turkish army have been bombing the PKK in Iraq, the PKK are retaliating by shooting the army in Turkey, the army told us not to rough camp or their patrols might shoot us! Just stop shooting each other man! Its also generally not too safe for women so knocking on peoples doors and camping outside family homes seemed like the best idea). Anyway every single one of these families has offered to take us in for the night, feeding us and generally caring for us the way you would a guest. At times we have offered money for food (refused) and so I have taken to being official family portrait photographer as a way of thanking them and posting them to families who have access to mail (not all do). The Kurds have been hugely hospitable and apart from some of the children who run down the road shouting 'money, money' at us and trying to pinch stuff off our bikes as a dangerous game of tag (this is why I am now laid up in Doğubeyazit with a bad knee) it has been a thoroughly rewarding ride.
In conclusion Turkey has been a land of highs, lows and vivid contradictions but overwhelmingly I will leave it with a hearty GÜZEL!*
x
*which roughly translates as just about every fantasticly, superb positive word you can think of.
Saturday, 11 October 2008
Where have all the little girls gone?
One of the things I have found most interesting/bizarre/unnerving whilst we have been in Turkey is the female presence (or at times the lack of) on the street.
To start with on entering Turkey I found myself a lot more bothered by the covering up of women than I thought I would. Perhaps its because I felt little prepared coming from Bulgaria where, as you approach the border, its difficult to imagine the skirts could get any shorter, especially as we arrived in Edirne (rather than Marmaris) where the thought of wearing any skirt approaching knee level (from the ground up), even with tights, felt deeply inappropriate. But I think its more than that. Before arriving I thought I would feel fine about it all, treat it as a cultural experience, cover up, observe, learn and move on. I did in the end but initially it was a total culture shock. I felt seriously unsettled possibly feeling nervous about offending someone and not fully understanding the cause of any offence but also in partial rebellion. Anyway suffice to say I was more affected than I expected and had a days battle with myself which saw me refusing to visit any mosques etc as I would need to cover up and just couldn't bring myself to despite having stern words with myself about missing out.
Anyway back to the title. In large cities, many towns and touristy areas women are to be seen out and about and apart from being modestly dressed with an obvious increase in headscarves than elsewhere in Europe the female presence doesn't seem much different. But as we travelled through rural areas, small villages and towns (or generally heading east through conservative Kurdish areas) it was a different story and I frequently found myself thinking 'Where have all the little girls gone?' More often than not we would ride into town and I would be the only visible female, no local women, no little girls playing. This is particularly strange as its not like the streets are empty. They are teeming with men, men drinking tea, men baking bread, men behind cash registers in shops, men driving cars, boys carrying school books or playing but NO WOMEN OR GIRLS AT ALL (actually I once saw a little girl chopping wood in a garden with an axe almost as big as her so I'm exaggerating a little).
I've been reading lost heart of Asia and a quote from that says that 'women need only leave the home twice in their lives once to get married the other to get buried.' Hmmmmm. This total separation of the sexes leads to a very bizarre feeling in towns as the public areas are totally male dominated, so where are all the girls...
As you would imagine apart from the ones which are chopping wood or working in the fields sowing, growing and harvesting, they are generally to be found at home, caring for the family and raising children if all has gone well.
Literacy rates in Turkey are apparently pretty good. We've had the good fortune to stay in a couple of peoples homes and speaking to a group of Kurdish young women it turns out that they go to school for only one month of the year. So they can read and write but beyond that describe themselves as uneducated (which they clearly would like to be but accept that this is the way). Its not that they don't have the opportunity, education is freely available, its just that their father's won't permit it. The rest of the time they are at home looking after the family, growing food for the table (they put my old allotment to shame) or helping bring in much needed money, which in the case of Suna and her friends will include picking walnuts during the season (the men cut, the women pick them from the ground if you look closely you can see their hands are stained with tannin). I have also spoken to a university student who plans to become a teacher and he reckoned it was quite common for children of rural families (particularly girls) not to complete school though the shepherds, always male, are often pretty darned young too. I'm not syaing that hthere is anything wrong at all about being at home and raising or caring for your family, it is one of the finest things you can do and everyone of the homes we were invited into were clearly very loving respectful places. But if that's not the road you want to go down, or actually even have the opprotunity to go down if you don't get married, and you've no education then opportunities for improving your lot seem fairly limited.
To start with on entering Turkey I found myself a lot more bothered by the covering up of women than I thought I would. Perhaps its because I felt little prepared coming from Bulgaria where, as you approach the border, its difficult to imagine the skirts could get any shorter, especially as we arrived in Edirne (rather than Marmaris) where the thought of wearing any skirt approaching knee level (from the ground up), even with tights, felt deeply inappropriate. But I think its more than that. Before arriving I thought I would feel fine about it all, treat it as a cultural experience, cover up, observe, learn and move on. I did in the end but initially it was a total culture shock. I felt seriously unsettled possibly feeling nervous about offending someone and not fully understanding the cause of any offence but also in partial rebellion. Anyway suffice to say I was more affected than I expected and had a days battle with myself which saw me refusing to visit any mosques etc as I would need to cover up and just couldn't bring myself to despite having stern words with myself about missing out.
Anyway back to the title. In large cities, many towns and touristy areas women are to be seen out and about and apart from being modestly dressed with an obvious increase in headscarves than elsewhere in Europe the female presence doesn't seem much different. But as we travelled through rural areas, small villages and towns (or generally heading east through conservative Kurdish areas) it was a different story and I frequently found myself thinking 'Where have all the little girls gone?' More often than not we would ride into town and I would be the only visible female, no local women, no little girls playing. This is particularly strange as its not like the streets are empty. They are teeming with men, men drinking tea, men baking bread, men behind cash registers in shops, men driving cars, boys carrying school books or playing but NO WOMEN OR GIRLS AT ALL (actually I once saw a little girl chopping wood in a garden with an axe almost as big as her so I'm exaggerating a little).
I've been reading lost heart of Asia and a quote from that says that 'women need only leave the home twice in their lives once to get married the other to get buried.' Hmmmmm. This total separation of the sexes leads to a very bizarre feeling in towns as the public areas are totally male dominated, so where are all the girls...
As you would imagine apart from the ones which are chopping wood or working in the fields sowing, growing and harvesting, they are generally to be found at home, caring for the family and raising children if all has gone well.
Literacy rates in Turkey are apparently pretty good. We've had the good fortune to stay in a couple of peoples homes and speaking to a group of Kurdish young women it turns out that they go to school for only one month of the year. So they can read and write but beyond that describe themselves as uneducated (which they clearly would like to be but accept that this is the way). Its not that they don't have the opportunity, education is freely available, its just that their father's won't permit it. The rest of the time they are at home looking after the family, growing food for the table (they put my old allotment to shame) or helping bring in much needed money, which in the case of Suna and her friends will include picking walnuts during the season (the men cut, the women pick them from the ground if you look closely you can see their hands are stained with tannin). I have also spoken to a university student who plans to become a teacher and he reckoned it was quite common for children of rural families (particularly girls) not to complete school though the shepherds, always male, are often pretty darned young too. I'm not syaing that hthere is anything wrong at all about being at home and raising or caring for your family, it is one of the finest things you can do and everyone of the homes we were invited into were clearly very loving respectful places. But if that's not the road you want to go down, or actually even have the opprotunity to go down if you don't get married, and you've no education then opportunities for improving your lot seem fairly limited.
Tuesday, 7 October 2008
Entering Turkey - belated post
Ok so we're about to leave Turkey but thought I'd write this up as a lesson learned and a warning to others...Entering Turkey was a bloomin' trauma. I find entering any new country a bit of a trauma anyway. I always feel a bit nervous about the unkown for example: will there be anything I can eat? (top priority) or potentially being rejected at the border for some spurious reason I have no control over. So my general approach is to roll up looking as innocent as possible (which is pretty easy when all you have on you is 3 pairs of padded pants and a bag of haribo bears) and hope they think we are too foolish with our pimped rides to turn away (just wait til I get to India, Trusty'll have tassels and bells on).
Anyway entering Turkey proved to be a special nightmare because we didn't have the euros necessary to buy visas (just the correct amount in apparently worhtless Bulgarian lira). This left us stuck in no mans land between Bulgarian and Turkish borders, no going forwards (no visas) no going back (well, you wouldn't). We tried to reason with the visa sales man, no movement there. I tried to speak to the Turkish police, not much doing there either. Just as I had psyched myself up to tout my worthless cash up and down the huge line of cars queueing to go to Bulgaria, planning to throw myself upon the mercy of anyone unlucky enough to have uk plates and beg for their emergency sterling, the guard who had turned us away to get our vısa's came to find out why we hadn't produced them at the gate.
Finally he found someone who would take all I had of any value, every lira and a random 5 pound note I had somehow missed spending on cups of tea at dover to give me just enough Euros to buy 2 visas. All of this lasted about half an hour leaving me highly strung. When they finally did give us the visas I burst out crying with relief at which point all the Turkish border police mercilessly took the piss out of me as only police can. Smooth.
Wednesday, 17 September 2008
We got vısas!
After much delay and toing and froing (which is none too easy when your on a bike I can tell you) we've just received our visas for Iran. Hoo RAAAAHHHHH!! If we hadn't gone through Iran it would have been a hell of a long, hard detour so three cheers for the Iranian embassy :-)
I have spent a significant amount of my time checking out scarf wearing styles to see if i can work out which will be the most aerodynamic and able to withstand fast downhills. I'm sure there will be more pictures to follow. So now we'll start to concern ourselves about acquiring one for Pakistan, tis a never ending quest.
Turkey has been amazing so far. People are incredibly kind going out of their way to help us, not only giving directions to where you want to go but actually walking you there so you don't get lost, which can be a bit of a mare when you actually already know what you're doing but hey de ho. People also have a complusion to feed us. In rural villages people who have been working in the fields run up to give us food, at one point we had 5 melons (we would have had more if we hadn't stopped the flow). To save us carrying them we ate the lot in one sitting resulting in us rolling around at the top of a hill with turkish melon belly. Its quıte pleasant.
We've been staying in Cappadocia for the last couple of weeks which has been stunning. The whole place looks like something from a star wars set (I think some of it actually was). All caves for scrambling around in and amazing valleys. This was all enhanced by our campsite having a swimming pool, great views AND hot showers.
The campsite itself seemed to have a gravitational pull for people on crazed round the world trips (and if you think we're hard core we met a Kiwi couple who have been cycling for 4 years). So we've had chance to get the lowdown on places we are going to and witness a blindfold nutella competion with surprising results. But enough frivolity we're back on the road tomorrow heading east to Mount Nemut Lake Van and Iran. Brıng it on baby.
x
Tuesday, 2 September 2008
Its all relative
Slovenia to Serbia the peaks and plains - thoughts in bullet points highlights and lowlıghts of post-yugo tours
Slovenıa
Home of the heart attack cake. Sugar, cream, lard and pastry served in deadly slabs...approach with caution.
Very crumpled land, if you imagine the alps as rolling crushed velvet, Slovenia would be crumpled tissue paper, as soon as you climb you come back down again, steep and sharp.
Riding in really hot conditions for the first time, found a thermometer reading 31 degrees in the shade, combined with constant climbing its a bit of a do.
Postonja caves, huge, huge, huge, magnificent cave networks, you get on a little train to take you underground, a bit of a James Bond baddıes, underground lair/weapon stash transport affair, which as you can imagine thrilled me almost as much as the caves.
Pretty wreathes of wild herbs hanging on doors.
The Proteus - loved it so much i bought a sticker.
A very pretty place, lovely meadows, generous people gıvıng us salt and pepper just when we needed it though how they knew I'll never know.
Slovakian cycle tourists paying for a support team but supporting themselves as far as we could see.
Croatia
Happy, happy people loving their country, for all the right reasons.
Zagreb lively city, their tourism leaflet touts it as great for cycling.
NOT great for cycling! Crazy (and sometimes a little bit tipsy) drivers and potholes you'd need a specialist team to recover you from make for a teeth shattering, hairy ride. (Please, please rıde on the pavement if you ever go here, everyone else does.)
Beer on sale in petrol stations and a handy little bar to drink it in...how thoughtful!
Stork Village, highest concentration of storks per house in Europe. The houses are great little timbered affairs beautiful but probably a wee bit drafty in the winter. Usually occupied by traditionally dressed and scarfed little old ladies, stooped by years of labour in the fields of communism. (Never wanted to wear a freak tshirt more).
Bullet holes in walls and minefields on borders with Bosnia and Serbia. They're still there, they can still blow bits of people off. Quick to forget sometimes.
Bosnia
Only spent 2 days cyclıng along the northern border so not obvıously not a good overview but...
Stunning untouched wooded hills.
Sunflowers and corn in the breeze.
Cheaper than cheap.
However desolate streets blown up and overgrown. Eerie eerie place. I had no idea what went on in the conflicts and various wars of independance but it made me want to know. This really affected me, ethnic cleansing, dereliction, new homes being built next to the shattered ones. Made me want to hire a bulldozer just to give people something a bit less raw to look at each day.
Back to Croatia
Serbia
Instant change of vibe crossıng the border from Croatıa from happy happy we love our country to something a little more spiky. In fact we had to cycle about 30 miles more than we had planned as the road we had planned to cross at which was still on our map was removed after the war.
Plains with melons and corn as far as the eye can see................ f-a-r
Pastry and cheese - the national diet it would appear and cause of my weight gain.
Communities living on municipal dumps with their goats.
Serious staring - cycle tourists obviously quite unusual.
Coffee in cafes on our morning rides.
Eating melon, mmmmm.
Watching sunset on the Danube. Dining on the Danube. Dancing on the Danube. Watching sunrise on the Danube. Following the Danube.
Romanıa
DOGS! DOGS! DOGS!
People without exception smile and wave (if you do it first).
Children waving at us from wındows in derelict apartment blocks. No idea what they were living on. Nothing for even the goats to eat.
Horses and carts.
Undeveloped towns with open drains.
No food in the shops.
Horrific potholed roads with lorries hurtling past drive us back to Serbia.
But somehow great coffee!?
Would love to come back to bike through transylvanian alps but will prepare myself first (with a dog stick primarily).
Return to Serbıa
Eastern Serbia has much easier going attitude than plains to Belgrade, more homely and welcoming but perhaps that's cos we'd just returned from Romania. It is all relative.
Footnote to Eastern Europe
A lot of the time I was pretty stunned that I was in was Europe, I mean I went on a bit of a bike ride to get there. There are constant reminders of war all along the borders. People live in new houses whilst the old ones remain as a constant reminder, bullet holes and spray paint untouched. No food in shops. Open drains. People living on dumps (I like a good skip raid as much as the next greeny but this was serious shanty town stuff). Blah blah you might already be aware and I was the only one asleep but eyes wide open now baby. And damn it I want to know more about history, its what makes us who we are even if we don't know it. This may seem a bit dark and some of it was but there were also lots of beautiful ups and laughs (moslty at the slovakian cycle tourists, they were so cool) and simple pleasures are what keeps most of ticking along thankfully.
txx
Slovenıa
Home of the heart attack cake. Sugar, cream, lard and pastry served in deadly slabs...approach with caution.
Very crumpled land, if you imagine the alps as rolling crushed velvet, Slovenia would be crumpled tissue paper, as soon as you climb you come back down again, steep and sharp.
Riding in really hot conditions for the first time, found a thermometer reading 31 degrees in the shade, combined with constant climbing its a bit of a do.
Postonja caves, huge, huge, huge, magnificent cave networks, you get on a little train to take you underground, a bit of a James Bond baddıes, underground lair/weapon stash transport affair, which as you can imagine thrilled me almost as much as the caves.
Pretty wreathes of wild herbs hanging on doors.
The Proteus - loved it so much i bought a sticker.
A very pretty place, lovely meadows, generous people gıvıng us salt and pepper just when we needed it though how they knew I'll never know.
Slovakian cycle tourists paying for a support team but supporting themselves as far as we could see.
Croatia
Happy, happy people loving their country, for all the right reasons.
Zagreb lively city, their tourism leaflet touts it as great for cycling.
NOT great for cycling! Crazy (and sometimes a little bit tipsy) drivers and potholes you'd need a specialist team to recover you from make for a teeth shattering, hairy ride. (Please, please rıde on the pavement if you ever go here, everyone else does.)
Beer on sale in petrol stations and a handy little bar to drink it in...how thoughtful!
Stork Village, highest concentration of storks per house in Europe. The houses are great little timbered affairs beautiful but probably a wee bit drafty in the winter. Usually occupied by traditionally dressed and scarfed little old ladies, stooped by years of labour in the fields of communism. (Never wanted to wear a freak tshirt more).
Bullet holes in walls and minefields on borders with Bosnia and Serbia. They're still there, they can still blow bits of people off. Quick to forget sometimes.
Bosnia
Only spent 2 days cyclıng along the northern border so not obvıously not a good overview but...
Stunning untouched wooded hills.
Sunflowers and corn in the breeze.
Cheaper than cheap.
However desolate streets blown up and overgrown. Eerie eerie place. I had no idea what went on in the conflicts and various wars of independance but it made me want to know. This really affected me, ethnic cleansing, dereliction, new homes being built next to the shattered ones. Made me want to hire a bulldozer just to give people something a bit less raw to look at each day.
Back to Croatia
Serbia
Instant change of vibe crossıng the border from Croatıa from happy happy we love our country to something a little more spiky. In fact we had to cycle about 30 miles more than we had planned as the road we had planned to cross at which was still on our map was removed after the war.
Plains with melons and corn as far as the eye can see................ f-a-r
Pastry and cheese - the national diet it would appear and cause of my weight gain.
Communities living on municipal dumps with their goats.
Serious staring - cycle tourists obviously quite unusual.
Coffee in cafes on our morning rides.
Eating melon, mmmmm.
Watching sunset on the Danube. Dining on the Danube. Dancing on the Danube. Watching sunrise on the Danube. Following the Danube.
Romanıa
DOGS! DOGS! DOGS!
People without exception smile and wave (if you do it first).
Children waving at us from wındows in derelict apartment blocks. No idea what they were living on. Nothing for even the goats to eat.
Horses and carts.
Undeveloped towns with open drains.
No food in the shops.
Horrific potholed roads with lorries hurtling past drive us back to Serbia.
But somehow great coffee!?
Would love to come back to bike through transylvanian alps but will prepare myself first (with a dog stick primarily).
Return to Serbıa
Eastern Serbia has much easier going attitude than plains to Belgrade, more homely and welcoming but perhaps that's cos we'd just returned from Romania. It is all relative.
Footnote to Eastern Europe
A lot of the time I was pretty stunned that I was in was Europe, I mean I went on a bit of a bike ride to get there. There are constant reminders of war all along the borders. People live in new houses whilst the old ones remain as a constant reminder, bullet holes and spray paint untouched. No food in shops. Open drains. People living on dumps (I like a good skip raid as much as the next greeny but this was serious shanty town stuff). Blah blah you might already be aware and I was the only one asleep but eyes wide open now baby. And damn it I want to know more about history, its what makes us who we are even if we don't know it. This may seem a bit dark and some of it was but there were also lots of beautiful ups and laughs (moslty at the slovakian cycle tourists, they were so cool) and simple pleasures are what keeps most of ticking along thankfully.
txx
Monday, 21 July 2008
Upping the pace, abandoning plans and choosing the high road - France to Italy
I've just reread my last post and can't believe how long it's been or how many miles we have covered. When we first set out it felt like it would take us 10 years to complete this round the world affair never mind our estimate of 1.5-2 years but our pace has improved dramatically, perhaps that's no surprise as we crossed the alps and all has been fairly flat since (apart from Slovenia but I'll get to that later).
We headed off from Strasbourg raring to go, partly because we'd had a rest but possibly because Fred was just so enthusiastic about our venture. Leaving Strasbourg (as leaving any city has proved to be) was somewhat stressful due to my navigational skills. Despite strapping my compass to my map holder I was still directionally clueless. Which left me arriving in Germany with a bit of a strop on. You will be pleased to hear though that over time I have become map woman and have progressed from 1:120,000 to ably getting us through countries on 1:535,000 scale maps. Initially James was looking at the detail and scale dismissing these as useless but as we have moved further east and road quality declines it's pretty safe to say that if that little road which would be favoured in western Europe is not featured its you wouldn't be able to ride on it anyway.
Germany like France proved to be a pleasure. As France had its fine wine and lovely food, so Germany had fantastically cheap yet high quality beers as well as cherry strudel that blew my mind (I think its fair to say I've been getting on and off the vegan wagon pretty regularly, a woman can only live on crisp sandwiches for so long). A note on bike lanes though - the German bike fraternity has developed an amazing network of cycle lanes all over Germany, so many that getting lost on them unless you have appropriate maps with accompanying guide books on places of interest along the way is fairly easy. As we were headed for the Black Forest i thought we should follow the Kinzig Valley cycle path (its fairly flat, goes in the right direction, seemed a good idea at the time). However although its flat and pretty much car free it wasn't particularly inspiring leading us through industrial estates and more pleasantly cherry orchards (scrumping skills duly employed). It didn't take too long before we got hacked off with going through mile after mile of detours round quiet streets and industrial boredom before we jacked in the cycle lanes and started following the little roads through the black forest proper which was the best move we had made. Finally we got to see the Black Forest we came for, deer on hillsides, traditional buildings (also on hillsides), stunning forest (hillsides) discovering the most amazing campsite (terraced upon the edge of hill) over looking one of the numerous valleys. The view was breathtaking, as was the schnapps which accompanied it. At night there was such a huge electrical storm I was able to photograph the lightning by just poking my camera out of the tent flap. Cycling up and down the hills was the most strenuous thing I think we have done yet (it made the alps seem easy by comparison) but we were always rewarded by amazing view, downhills, and stunning scenery throughout.
From there we headed a bit further south than intended to cycle along the northern shore of Lake Constance (Bodensee), again another beautiful spot which although a popular holiday destination is still lovely and we caught our first glimpse of the Alps. Whilst choosing local wine in a supermarket I was recommended one by Bernhard who ended up inviting us home to his family, feeding us and letting us camp on his lawn complete with a view of the lake and Alps.
After Bodensee I had planned to head over to Austria and cross the Alps into Slovenia but somehow the Alps just drew us in once we'd seen them and we crossed from Bavaria after joining the mass of American tourists visiting looped Ludwigs castle. We were greeted with mile after mile of the most amazing scenery to date, crystal clear lakes, spectacular mountains, beautiful free range cows with bells on (though why they need them I've no idea as they were all fenced in at some point, maybe they graze on the mountain tops at some point with Heidi in tow). There were also wildflower meadows we would labour over to create and maintain at home, traditional buildings new and old (solar panels and wind turbines as common optional extras) and curious hay stacking techniques which I have bizarrely taking to photographing (along with cows of the world). I can not recommend cycling in the Alps enough, if you have a bike and the will please do it, there are some amazing cycle paths and detailed maps (thanks again to the German bike fiends)which lead you beautifully into Italy and apart from the Fern and Reschen pass areas all are pretty free of cars and even here the cars expect you.
If there's one thing I have learned form this part of the journey its that the hilliest road is not always the easiest but is often the most rewarding.
We headed off from Strasbourg raring to go, partly because we'd had a rest but possibly because Fred was just so enthusiastic about our venture. Leaving Strasbourg (as leaving any city has proved to be) was somewhat stressful due to my navigational skills. Despite strapping my compass to my map holder I was still directionally clueless. Which left me arriving in Germany with a bit of a strop on. You will be pleased to hear though that over time I have become map woman and have progressed from 1:120,000 to ably getting us through countries on 1:535,000 scale maps. Initially James was looking at the detail and scale dismissing these as useless but as we have moved further east and road quality declines it's pretty safe to say that if that little road which would be favoured in western Europe is not featured its you wouldn't be able to ride on it anyway.
Germany like France proved to be a pleasure. As France had its fine wine and lovely food, so Germany had fantastically cheap yet high quality beers as well as cherry strudel that blew my mind (I think its fair to say I've been getting on and off the vegan wagon pretty regularly, a woman can only live on crisp sandwiches for so long). A note on bike lanes though - the German bike fraternity has developed an amazing network of cycle lanes all over Germany, so many that getting lost on them unless you have appropriate maps with accompanying guide books on places of interest along the way is fairly easy. As we were headed for the Black Forest i thought we should follow the Kinzig Valley cycle path (its fairly flat, goes in the right direction, seemed a good idea at the time). However although its flat and pretty much car free it wasn't particularly inspiring leading us through industrial estates and more pleasantly cherry orchards (scrumping skills duly employed). It didn't take too long before we got hacked off with going through mile after mile of detours round quiet streets and industrial boredom before we jacked in the cycle lanes and started following the little roads through the black forest proper which was the best move we had made. Finally we got to see the Black Forest we came for, deer on hillsides, traditional buildings (also on hillsides), stunning forest (hillsides) discovering the most amazing campsite (terraced upon the edge of hill) over looking one of the numerous valleys. The view was breathtaking, as was the schnapps which accompanied it. At night there was such a huge electrical storm I was able to photograph the lightning by just poking my camera out of the tent flap. Cycling up and down the hills was the most strenuous thing I think we have done yet (it made the alps seem easy by comparison) but we were always rewarded by amazing view, downhills, and stunning scenery throughout.
From there we headed a bit further south than intended to cycle along the northern shore of Lake Constance (Bodensee), again another beautiful spot which although a popular holiday destination is still lovely and we caught our first glimpse of the Alps. Whilst choosing local wine in a supermarket I was recommended one by Bernhard who ended up inviting us home to his family, feeding us and letting us camp on his lawn complete with a view of the lake and Alps.
After Bodensee I had planned to head over to Austria and cross the Alps into Slovenia but somehow the Alps just drew us in once we'd seen them and we crossed from Bavaria after joining the mass of American tourists visiting looped Ludwigs castle. We were greeted with mile after mile of the most amazing scenery to date, crystal clear lakes, spectacular mountains, beautiful free range cows with bells on (though why they need them I've no idea as they were all fenced in at some point, maybe they graze on the mountain tops at some point with Heidi in tow). There were also wildflower meadows we would labour over to create and maintain at home, traditional buildings new and old (solar panels and wind turbines as common optional extras) and curious hay stacking techniques which I have bizarrely taking to photographing (along with cows of the world). I can not recommend cycling in the Alps enough, if you have a bike and the will please do it, there are some amazing cycle paths and detailed maps (thanks again to the German bike fiends)which lead you beautifully into Italy and apart from the Fern and Reschen pass areas all are pretty free of cars and even here the cars expect you.
If there's one thing I have learned form this part of the journey its that the hilliest road is not always the easiest but is often the most rewarding.
Saturday, 7 June 2008
Hello, hello, hello!
Well we've broken the 500 miles mark and so far it has been fairly easy going, but perhaps that's because we've been taking it easy at a friend of James's uncle Fred's house in Melsheim. This has been so lovely, it is helping to erase the memory that was last years 'holiday' in the champagne region. For those that managed to miss my entertaining stories about this think tick infested fields and groins, more than one embarassing 'me being caught naked in otherwise empty landscapes' moments, calamities in french toilets and a distinct lack of champagne. Anyway I am actually growing to love France, its beautiful old buildings, preserved way of life and the bread and jam which starts my day. I've even manged to eat vegan in restaurants and there wasn't a limp lettuce leaf in sight. Fred has been a legend at showing us the highlights of Alsace, being so hospitable as well as giving us free reign on his internet connection.True to form I am still making it up as I go along, looking for additions to my bike to make the going easier as well as taking bits off. I also still don't really know where I am going (frequently in the wrong direction, I may need to attach a gyroscope to my handlebars) but I'm having a good time along the way regardless. I'm trying to come to terms with the fact that James is better at reading maps than me, although its infuriating and makes me want to push him in ditches almost daily and has made me fling my bike in one once, fortunately he's quite good at cycling at a reasonable distance behind me which helps make me feel better about it all.
The first part of our ride was conducted along flat canal tow paths following a fairly straight line from Calais to Strasbourg as James's bike is just so heavy the thought of going up hill was likely to make him get off and push. The first week or so we had a hefty headwind which made the pedalling become a bit tiresome, even having to pedal downhill. Though once we'd moved onto hillier ground it actually seemed to become a bit easier as at least there was a nice veiw to look forward to as well as the downhill.
Things that have made me smile include growing to appreciate France, it's amazing buildings, cathedrals, countryside, bread, jam and brioche au sucre (I know they're not vegan but I just can't help myself). Charleville-Mezieres and Metz were also high points as we had no idea they would be so lovely. The troglodite houses built into the cliff in Graufthal in the Vosges were another happy encounter. I have gleefully met with success in managing to secure us camping space in a friendly farmers field through a combination of BAD french (me) and complicated mime (farmers wife and me). I even have a suntan! There has been an abundance of baby animals around, ducklings, cygnets, foals and we even saw a brand new calf which could barely stand being cleaned of ick which fell over again pretty quickly, as well as a baby sparrow on its first flight using my bike as a handy flying practise perch (that's the little fella at the beginning of this post). We have also spotted a wild boar (I had my glasses on and everything), deer and assorted birds of prey. The countryside here is teaming with wildlife no doubt aided by the fantastic wildflower verges and flower beds in towns, which has prompted me to yet again wonder where has all of Englands gone? Other happy moments include my deft removal of a tick from James using a pair of pliers, only injured party was the tick, which frankly had it coming.
Minor downs are my gears are not entrily functional (though passable). I may have them looked at when we pass through Germany though I have managed to make them work better which is some consolation. I have also been going through some serious hayfever, my eyes can stream all day but the french have good drugs for this and so should be fine from now on. Prior to aquiring these though I was getting to cafes with a mucky tear streaked face giving me the appearance of a sticky child, nice.
Some of you may be surprised to hear that I have also had the pleasure as sampling some fine beers and wines, may I take this opportunity to recommend Leffe Ruby (but just the one as they're a little bit fruity to make a satisfactory all night breverage) as well as the local Alsace wine, but maybe do it when you are here where it is cheap and lovely. I am hugely looking forward to sampling some of the local German brews.
The plan, flimsy though it is, is to follow some of Germany's fine national cycle routes through the Black Forest and Bavaria (maybe Munich but maybe staying lower down) to Austria, over the Austrian Alps (the lowest bits we can find) to Slovenia and Croatia but that's just the plan today, it could all change tomorrow but that's all part of the fun of the ride.
Tuesday, 20 May 2008
In the beginning...
How last minute this has all been I can't even begin to explain, only this morning, even though we set off yesterday, i was removing parts of my bike which were surplus to requirements. For the last few weeks i have been beavering away to sort myself out for the biggest trip of my life. I've been working like a dog to make everything good for the off, rebuilding my bike, being vaccinated for most know diseases, ditching my belongings and saying goodbye. It's been emotional and my feet have barely touched the ground but now we're off.
We cycled yesterday from London to Ashford, 60 odd miles along the less than beautiful and sometimes a little bit scary A20. I shall be aiming for more scenic routes in the future. However the journey for me was a long but good one though James's new and as yet unbroken brooks saddle may have somewhat lessened his enjoyment. Every now and then I would have small moments of the realisation that this is to be my life, journeying around the globe, going under my own steam, seeing... I don't know what but i'm looking forward to it.
I have been talking seriously about doing this for about two and a half years, in fact since i got my first bike in London. So many people have helped to get me this far, family being supportive, friends for their enthusiasm and ever welcome top tips, Therese at Hackney Bike Project for teaching me cycle maintenace, Arup for building my wheels (looking good!). Thank you so much all. This time tomorrow we'll hopefully be on the ferry to france and so it begins, my heart is pounding.
We cycled yesterday from London to Ashford, 60 odd miles along the less than beautiful and sometimes a little bit scary A20. I shall be aiming for more scenic routes in the future. However the journey for me was a long but good one though James's new and as yet unbroken brooks saddle may have somewhat lessened his enjoyment. Every now and then I would have small moments of the realisation that this is to be my life, journeying around the globe, going under my own steam, seeing... I don't know what but i'm looking forward to it.
I have been talking seriously about doing this for about two and a half years, in fact since i got my first bike in London. So many people have helped to get me this far, family being supportive, friends for their enthusiasm and ever welcome top tips, Therese at Hackney Bike Project for teaching me cycle maintenace, Arup for building my wheels (looking good!). Thank you so much all. This time tomorrow we'll hopefully be on the ferry to france and so it begins, my heart is pounding.
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