Week 11 (482km – 299mile)

Our reward for feeding the dog’s last night, was for 2 of the dog’s to chase us of the “campsite” while the 3rd dog guarded the exit. I slowly crept behind Lee forcing him to take the brunt of it, because I’m nice like that.

Now that the trip is nearing the end I’ve opted for directness when it comes to choosing the route. Which meant the motorway was to be our port of call. We had no problems with authority this time as the police, (who could usually be found idly hanging around service stations), more often than not spoke to us about our trip and we got waved through the toll gates for free.

One downside to riding on motorways is that they are often boring as hell and before you know it 75 miles of monotony has passed beneath your wheels, only broken up by rest breaks in identical service stations. The roads are smooth and the shoulders wide and with Istanbul a week or so away, I don’t mind.

I must also add that the people have been extremely friendly, we are getting good luck wishes from many of the people we meet and the Turkish truck drivers that frequent the motorway nearly always peep and wave. We are quite literally getting peeped at every 2-3 minutes and it’s getting quite tiring on the arm’s to respond to all of them.

Southern Serbia brought a much needed change, as the motorway ended the road passed through deep gorges in the mountains meaning the road stayed pretty much flat, interupted by the occasional tunnel. As night fell we came across a lonely looking petrol station, manned by well a man. He seemed pleased to have some company and we asked if we could camp behind his shop. “No problem” he replied.

We made an early start for Bulgaria and after about 5 checkpoints at the border we were finally in. We soon realised we had no Bulgarian money on us and the only reliable place for a cash machine would be in Sofia, 100kms away. If this wasn’t bad enough we had little food, one bottle of water each and the temperature had just crept past 35C.

We pulled into a service station hoping they would accept Visa but just as we stepped in the woman behind the counter kept saying “No shop, no shop” “WHAT” it was quite clearly a shop. Anyway we sulked off and got back on the bikes thinking of Peter Heath’s advice from way back in Finland that something always turns up as long as you keep pedalling. About an hour later something did, but they didn’t accept Visa but Euro’s were Ok. We managed to find 2.70 Euros between us which was enough for a couple of Fanta’s each. Heaven never tasted sweeter.

This was enough to see us through to Sofia, where we decided to have our final rest day before the end.

 

Week 10 – (490km – 304 mile)

Yesterday’s ride left us with a short 17 mile ride into capital city number 6, Budapest. As with all the previous capital cities we had traversed, I expected us to get a little lost. So we estimated a couple of hours from setting off in the morning to reaching the campsite.

There were bike paths along most of the roads, but their condition was questionable, so we gladly chose the road most travelled. Before we knew it 2 lanes turned into 4, 4 lanes turned into 6, 6 into 8 and we were left playing a game of cat and mouse with the traffic, dashing from red light to red light whilst being careful not to fall victim to the tram lines (bike tyres slot perfectly into them).

We arrived at the campsite about an hour later than planned. It looked overbooked, we feared the worst. But apparently there was room for us amongst the sea of tents and lack of grass. A few bent tent pegs later and we were up and running. 1 and a half days rest beckoned.

Back on the bike, and leaving Budapest was easier than it was getting in. The River Danube shall now follow us all the way to Belgrade, albeit in a slightly lazier, more relaxing manner.

Today was the hottest day of the trip so far at 38C and longed to be back in the chilly Arctic, if only for 5 minutes. The heat and the headwind combined to make slightly unpleasant cycling. If anyone reading along would like a similar experience, here’s what you do. Get hold of a hair-dryer, turn the power on full, place directly in front of your face and remain like that for 8 hours, while occasionally taking a Fanta break.

After a stop in a cool little town in Hungary watching the Olympics, we headed for Serbia enjoying our first tailwind since Lithuania, which believe me seems a long time ago. At the Serbian border we had to show our passport for the first time, we also got a nice little stamp in them. With dusk approaching we pulled of the side of the road and pitched our tents in a quiet cornfield under a clear sky and a full moon.

We got a stupidly early start, but it seems the Serbian police like their early starts too, after a mere 3 kilometres we get pulled over by them. There is nobody else in sight, so while the rest of Serbia sleeps we are told to exit the motorway at the next turn off and use the “old road”. So we did, but it turned out we took the old, old road, which was nothing but a dirt track after 5 kilometres of gruelling pedalling we came to a junction with 2 dirt tracks going in different directions, no signs or buildings were around to guide us and our map was inadequate. After a few minutes of head scratching, we headed back the way we came, back through the sand, going back over the bike tracks we had left only minutes before.

We eventually got back on the tarmac, our bikes now covered in sand. The old road was better but far from perfect, dodging potholes and clinging on to our bike’s as trucks barreled alongside us wasn’t fun, so we headed back for the motorway to enjoy the smooth roads and wide shoulders.

Before we knew it we had passed through Belgrade and pulled into a campground which was essentially a patch of grass at the back of a motel. I wasn’t complaing.

Dinner that night went astonishingly wrong and we decided to feed it to the stray dog’s that occuppied the “campsite”. One of the dog’s turned his nose up at the food on offer and like us he to went to bed hungry.

 

Week 9 – (610km – 378 mile)

I noticed a crack on the sidewall of my front tyre, so rather than tempt fate I decided to replace it in Krakow. That now brings the number of tyre’s I have used on this tour to a grand total of 6.

Our last day in Poland as we proceeded towards the mountains of Slovakia was in the pouring rain. We stayed in a motel just before the border to dry out and even managed to catch the opening day at the Olympics.

We entered Slovakia on a fine day weather wise, which is perfect when in mountainous regions. Slovakia is my second favourite country, after Norway of course. Everything is green, the towns are all neat and tidy and they have mountains to rival those of Norway.

We found a campsite and surprisingly the people that ran it were nothing like the Slovakiansfrom the film Hostel. So we settled in and immediately went on a beer run. We also found some internet which seemed like the local hangout for kid’s, upon which they all decided to practice their English on us. It seemed they hadn’t learned anything other than “what is your name?” at school.

Our second day in Slovakia saw us leave the mountains behind, but only after a tough, tough climb that was gave views that were worth every drop of sweat. Instead of looking up at the mountains, we were now looking down into them. Awesome. Cue 20km’s of un-interrupted downhill, reaching a top speed of 64kmh.

Next stop Hungary, where I changed €15 at the border and got 3200 Hungarian back. Great. After a lot of rolling hills and Fanta breaks we neared Budapest, which was our target but with dusk approaching we decided to pull in at a campsite a stone’s throw away from the River Danube.

There were 3 main landmarks I wanted to see on this trip. 1. The Arctic Circle (although you can’t really see it) 2. The River Danube 3. The view of Asia from Istanbul. Finally got to number 2 as the sun was going down, I had to touch it to make sure it was real. I couldn’t believe how far I had come all under my own steam.

Showered for the first time in a week, dirt poured off of me.

 

Week 8 – (704km – 436 mile)

A mixed week of highs and lows, which has seen the end of the tailwinds and I’ve also been thinking of home a lot.

I seriously thought of flying home Warsaw or to keep a bit of dignity and pedal across Germany and Holland to catch a ferry bound for England. It wouldn’t be fair to Lee to quit now, so I battled with my mind and the winds hoping for a change of fortune come Warsaw.

We left behind Lithuania and entered Poland where we had views of some of the most beautiful countryside, which had a hint of Britishness about it’s beauty. We found a lakeside campsite, grabbed a couple of Tyskie beer’s each and rented a row boat. We spent a couple of hours swimming, drinking and generally relaxing and came away with a much needed morale boost.

30 degree heat and hills was the theme to Warsaw. We had two dog’s chase us up one of the hill’s. My immediate thought being to get in front of Lee, so he could take the bite that never came. Good fun.

Warsaw was a refreshing change from all the other Polish towns we had passed through and I booked a flight home from Istanbul for August 31st. No turning back now.

The road out of Warsaw was utter gridlock for about 10 miles, reason being an annual 250km pilgrimage consisting of up to 8000 walkers was taking place. Talk about timing. The same day saw my rear tyre split at the sidewall and I had no spare or way of fixing it.

This could of been bad. Before we even had time to consider our options, help arrived in the form of a Polish baker, who looked a little like Ned Flanders I might add. He has a friend who owns a bike shop and offers to drive me and my wheel there. I took about half an hour in total and on the drive back, he pulls into his driveway to fetch me 2 bottles of water and a huge bag of cakes.

He dropped me off back where he found me and after a chorus of thank yous from the both of us he left me to it. Just as I had got the wheel back on, he returns with another bag of cakes bigger than the first. Absolute legend.

People like him make a trip like this all the more worthwhile. It’s often the people you meet on the road you remember more than the places you go.

 

Week 7 – (727km – 450 mile)

Finally back on the bike, only this time with a bit of company. An early start was in order to test Lee fitness. I imagined it was going to be a slow and steady start to ease him in but we finished on a respectable 82 miles for the day (tailwind may have helped).

On a cloudless day we cruised on down to Helsinki passing numerous crystal clear lakes decorated with pine trees for good measure. A fantastic end to a fantastic part of the world. I hope to visit Scandinavia again in the future. Of course by bike.

A 2hr ferry ride across the Gulf of Finland dropped us off in the charming Estonian capital Tallin, which as well as having a beautiful Old Town also boasts some of the most beautiful girls in the world. Halfway across Estonia was the beach resort of Parnu, where we took an extended break to take a swim and watch the girls go by.

Two day’s after arriving in Estonia we were now in Latvia. A lush coastal road that would not have looked out of place in Scandinavia led us towards Riga. As we neared the capital, sadly the road worsened as did the views. So we rattled our way to a hostel for a well earned rest day.

Full of energy from a day of rest and good food, we managed to hit career highs of 103 miles for the day. This saw us make good progress across Lithuania. However with the sun nearly down we still hadn’t found a place to camp.

I spotted a coulple of farmers out in their field. They spoke no English, so after a few hand gestures and what not, they understood that we needed somewhere to sleep. They thankfully offered us their front lawn. Bliss.

 

Week 6 – (0km – 0 mile)

What do you do with 10 day’s off? Not a lot is what.

This week has mostly been spent in the company of Stephen King and his epic novel The Stand. At 1142 pages, quite as challenge in itself.

I tried unsuccessfully to service the bike. Help came in the form of Peter Heath an Englishman who has lived in Finland since before I was born. He spent a couple of hours tweaking the bike in his garage while I like a good student tried to take in as much as I could.

Over an English breakfast he told me of his numerous tour’s since 1979, which only wet my appetite to get back on the road.

He told me something I don’t think I’ll ever forget. No matter how tired, cold, wet or hungry you are. Pick your head up, get back on the bike and pedal, eventually something will turn up. Hopefully in the form of a pub.

He’s right you know, something does always turn up. But only if you keep on pedalling.

 

Week 5 – (723km – 448 mile)

Country number 3 (Finland) and currency number 3 (Euro).

The change was almost instant not only because of the 1 hour time difference and the fact that the language now looked even more foreign than Norway and Sweden. But from a cycling point of view I now have cycle path’s surrounding me, going in all directions and they are all clearly sign posted. Perfectly suited to the flatness of Finland.

This week I got my first puncture and in typical Scandinavian style it was in the middle of a thunderstorm, the same day I completed my first century. 100 miles of graft.

On one of my many snack breaks outside of a supermarket, an old Finnish couple drew up alongside me in their car.

“Come my house, sleep” said the old lady

“Okay” I replied

I followed them a short distance to their home where they generously made me coffee and sandwiches and offered me the use of a shower and a bed. I spent a couple of hours in their company and apologised that I had to leave as it was still mid-afternoon and I had plenty of fuel left in the tank.

I spent the night in a town called Seinajoki and it was here that for the first time in weeks it went slightly dark. Nowhere near full darkness, but enough for me to need my head-torch on to read in the tent. 

So it was I found myself in Tampere after 36 day’s and 3000kms. Leg 1 complete and 10 day’s ahead of schedule. I treated myself to a pizza and more importantly a beer.

 

Week 4 – (608km – 377 mile)

Swedish cash in hand, it’s time for country number 2. But time for a quick look back on Norway.

“Given it’s great distances, hilly terrain and narrow roads. Norway is not suited to extensive bicycle touring” says my guide book. I agree, but seeing Norway is without doubt the best way, the only way to truly appreciate it.

I’ve a love/hate relationship with the country. I’ve cursed the uphills, embraced the downhills and even come to hate the these to, knowing that they bring an inevitable uphill.

Norway will probably be the country I look back on with the most fondness. I have received countless acts of kindness that I probably don’t deserve from strangers. Dozens of handshakes and hundreds of waves from the Dutch and German motor-homes that seem to fill the roads.

Sweden will be remembered for it’s nothingness. The early part’s of Lapland were very similar to Norway with huge snow covered mountains and clear lakes. After 2 day’s riding I finally came to my first town Kiruna, which was a welcome relief. The next town after this Gallivere was a further 150km away. I saw more elk/reindeer than people.

I crossed the Arctic Circle once again only this time the temperature was 27 degrees. Quite a contrast to the last time. It was the turn of the Latvians to mob me this time and they assured me that they have cheap beer. Something to look forward to.

Sweden will mostly be remembered for 3 things. Tree’s, Volvo’s and mosquitoes never in my life have I seen so many, the mosquitoes a particular annoyance. I rode 300 miles ( nearly the length of England as the crow flies) and only passed 2 towns.

I spent a rest day in Tornio/Haparanda which is essentially one big town but one half Swedish the other half Finnish and a time difference of 1 hour. Particularly useful for when the shops close in Finland as they are still open for an hour in Sweden if you need them, as I did.

 

Week 3 – (527km – 326 mile)

After a relaxing day off in Mosjoen it was back to business and right on cue it began to rain.

Next stop, the Arctic Circle a huge landmark I have been looking forward to reaching. Between me and the Arctic were the Saltfjellet mountains, which were surprisingly easy to climb. Again I couldn’t stop smiling at the views surrounding me.

I finally reached the Arctic circle and the sign that announced I had arrived was a major letdown. With the temperature at a toasty 4 degrees I pulled into the visitor’s centre for a coffee and a warm but before I could get into it, I was mobbed by a dozen french tourists.

They couldn’t speak English, so I assume they though I had ridden all the way from England (felt like I had). Exclaims of ‘Bon courage’ could be heard from the ladies amongst the group, while the men took it in turns to lift the bike, one guy even had a ride around the car park.

I had my first encounter with the dreaded tunnels this week. Everything that enter’s, even the smallest car’s sound like a train is coming towards you. The only thing you can do is pedal as fast as you can. One plus point about the tunnels is that it doesn’t rain in them.

I had two awesome descents too this week. The first being 8km’s long and the second although not as long was slightly steeper and it was here I hit a top speed of 65kmh (42mph) as I casually overtook a car. Priceless.

The coastal road from Fauske to Narvik has been fantastically beautiful. The scenery quite possibly the best yet and the tunnels plentiful. Haven’t had a great deal of flatness that the locals had promised me. I’ve been constantly going up and down short steep mountains. Oh well, it has all been a pleasure to do.

However after 3 weeks of near constant rain and the expense of Norway I have decided to cut across Swedish Lapland instead of continuing up to the Nordkapp as I originally intended.

 

Week 2 (611km – 379 mile)

After a breakfast consisting of a few peanuts and a swill of water, off I set for Trondheim and beyond.

The first half off the day took me through the Dovrefjell national park in some fine weather. After an hour or so the uphill’s turned into downhills, pretty much all the way to Trondheim. The scenery was again mind blowing and I couldn’t help but smile the whole way.

Then the day took an about-turn. I now found myself riding through a thunderstorm, with a good measure of rain and hail and no place to hide. Not fun at all. It was the lowest point of the tour so far and thoughts of quitting were sounding good. However, I forced myself to soldier on.

After I left Trondheim the road had somewhat flattened, thus the scenery was now less dramatic. I spent the majority of the time riding through end-less pine forests, which are all well and good but they start to lose their charm with each passing mile.

It wouldn’t be very British of me not to mention the weather. This week I’ve had 2 day’s of sun, 5 day’s of rain. Quite British I’d say.

My fitness has improved now, however I’m still not setting off any speed cameras. I’ve one more mountain range to climb and then it is apparently flat from then on. We’ll see.