To the Atlantic!

My word - has it really been that long? I've fallen out of the habit of sitting down to write, and as ever the longer you leave it the more difficult it is to pick it up further down the line. It's been about two weeks since my last entry, so apologies to you (assuming that there's still anyone left reading it at the moment). So where are we? I'm now in Royen, North-West of Bordeaux and quite a long way from Narbonne where I was heading towards when last we spoke. Narbonne was a pleasant enough town, though the ride to it from Agde was notable mainly for the fight against the wind which was blowing up a treat by then. The weather had turned quite quickly again and I found myself facing gale force winds, drizzle and a swiftly coldening (if that's not a word I'm officially making it up) general temperature. My initial plan was to head off the next day towards Carcassone, but a combination of the worsening weather and a strong desire to watch the Grand Prix heralded a new plan. A short ride up the road to a new campsite (cheaper, nicer and with better wifi) brought the new experience of pitching my tent in the morning, and then a swift jaunt into Narbonne proper to try and find somewhere to watch the F1. For the country that brought forth Alain Prost into the world, and have had numerous teams competing in the competition, the French pretty much ignore the races themselves - even in a town as large as Narbonne there was nowhere showing the race. That was that plan out the window. My next attempt was to return to the campsite (a 15km round trip) to try to stream the race, with equally poor results. As good as the BBC's coverage is, text commentary just isn't the same. As the weather still had not improved by the next morning, I jumped on a train again and set out towards Pau on the foothills of the Pyrenees. It turned out that I wasn't the only cyclist paying heed to the weather, as every bicycle compartment in the train was full to overflowing by the time we left the station! I spent the majority of the trip in the company of a German couple who had driven to Narbonne, left their car there and were heading in towards the mountains. To cycle back with the wind behind them. The gent (I can't for the life of me remember his name, so a stereotypical Hans will have to do) had retired earlier that year, at 55, and had already ridden the Alps as a "celebration". I would have thought Champagne more appropriate, but it takes all types! He regaled me with stories of being chased by dogs on the Santiago de la Compostela pilgrimage, and riding around Iceland amongst others which really reminded me how much there is to see out there. I jumped off the train just outside Pau and stopped off in a campsite called Les Okiras which was a pleasant surprise - very classy, but very reasonable as well with a well stocked bar and very proficient kitchen! My dinner that evening consisted of duck, duck, duck and duck - heaven. There was a lake right next to the campsite with a wakeboarding/kitesurfing training rig installed which comprised of what looked like electricity pylons linked up to each other in a circuit by ropes and handles being pulled round a course of jumps and obstacles. I know a few people who would have jumped at the chance, but watching was more than enough exercise for me! If I'm honest, I was dreading the next day as it was my first jaunt back into serious hills and mountains since Tuscany. The ride proved tough, as expected, but fuelled by bananas and Mars bars I made it through safely! The last part of the ride was through some lovely rustic French towns with a really soul-warming sun on my back. My stop for that night (and almost the next week as it turned out) was Camping Beau Rivage in Navarrenx, owned and run by Richard and Wendy Curtis, old friends of ours from Jersey who left some yeas ago to run (albeit a different one) a campsite in France. Although to my eyes they haven't changed a bit, in their eyes I had - several feet in fact! The last time they had laid eyes on me was probably twelve years previously, and they had no idea that I was even on teh road let alone near the in Navarrenx! Their daughter, Sophie, happened to be visiting home that weekend, so I joined her and some of her friends for a lovely home- cooked dinner and entertainment! As a little plug, Beau Rivage is amongst the nicest of all the campsites that I have visited on my trip - it's clean, quiet, shaded and very pretty with good facilities and very close to the charming walled town of Navarrenx. It's about 100k inland from Biarritz and if anyone is down in that area I honestly can't recommend it highly enough. Pro-tip - try to get down there for a Friday or Sunday night when Richard is cooking to try and raise his stress levels! I was treated to several meals out whilst I was there, plus a lovely and ery professionally cooked pizza, and the bottle of wine that I bought as a little thank you was forced straight back into my hands, despite my obviously hearty and lengthy protestations. Ufortuantely whilst I was there I managed to twinge my back (it's still not quite right even now) which delayed my departure, but eventually I bit the bullet and jumped back on the bike towards Biarritz and Bayonne. I think that's probably enough for now - it's not up to where I am, but it's already a long one, so I'll get the rest ready over the next couple of days and post it soon. Hope all are well, and see you all soon.

Squirrels and storms

I spent, as I ha d planned, another day and night in La Mas having a wonderful time doing nothing. I popped out for a short ride to pick up some shopping and stopped off for a slice of pizza from a bakery overlooking some a big patch of coastline being battered by some pretty high winds. Unfortunately my pitch was sheltered by the headlands, so I spent another night sweltering away! I broke camp for an early start the next morning and aimed inland towards a town called St. Martin de la Craux. I had left my camera in the campsite office the night before and rather predictably I had forgotten to pick it up when I checked out. I realised this about ten km into my mornings ride (after heading up and down a rather large hill) when I went to take a quick photo. Adding 20k onto my ride did not leave me in the best of moods, and after all that I even forgot to take the photo when I reached the same point again! The heat of the day soon asserted itself as I neared Martigues, so I stopped off for an hour to enjoy a late breakfast at a roadside break area before heading off again into the heat (mid 30's). Although still very hot, the humidity here is much lower than Italy so at least it feels a little cooler and isn't quite so draining when out on the road. That day's ride was great, including a huge straight stretch of road with barely another user and a huge tailwind behind me meaning that I averaged my speed out at around 35kph for a considerable time - not bad going when laden as heavily as I am! The campsite was a real find - only about 35 pitches, but family run and with a lovely swimming pool on the side. I pitched up in the shade and headed for the pool and was pleasantly surprised by the lack of small children running about screaming their heads off, something I have come to expect on most campsites recently. I spent a couple of days in Camping Le Craux, taking advantage of plethora of bars in the village and a handily located Super-U within walking distance to stock up in the necessities. After a couple of days spent primarily by the pool, and watching an army of ants devouring a piece of roast chicken near my tent I packed up my bits and headed off again, this time towards Lunel for a campsite called Bonne Ports. I had high hopes for the site, and passed up the opportunity to stop off at a couple of others in my haste to get there. This proved to be a serious mistake, as the campsite was awful. Expensive, crowded, noisy, bad (and expensive) wifi connection etc. etc. etc. They even managed to screw up making a pizza, deciding that instead of pepperoni on an Americana it should in fact be a bolognese sauce topped off with potatoes and half cooked. Not good. The only real positive to take from it was the local wildlife and I spent a lovely quart of an hour or so being shouted at by the resident squirrel whilst trying in vain (me, not him) to grab a couple of decent photo's... The scenery around here is great - vast tracts of sun-scorched wilderness surrounded by lush vineyards at the heart of the Languedoc wine region. The scores of singis offering wine tasting are a sore temptation, but unfortunately probably best avoided whilst travelling a velo! Early next morning we had a pretty serious thunderstorm, with some monumental rain meaning that my departure was delayed until late morning, but the break in the heat meant that I could forego my midday break and cycle strait through, which I duly did, taking in a little bit of Montpellier before arriving in Frontignan for the evening. If you take a look on the map around the area, you will see how the land lies - a spit of land jutting out from the coast, barely connected to mainland at either side. My campsite was in the middle of this spit of this beautiful outcrop, with the roaring sea on one side and a lagoon on the other - stunning. I had taken a look at a couple of other places during the day - the first was (far) too expensive whilst the second boasted no facilities other than a basic toilet block (by this time the temperature was creeping back up and I was gagging for a cold beer). The third was a camping village/resort of a type that I typically try to avoid, but seeing that my GPS battery was running very low it seemed prudent to at least take a look. Thank God I did! Although the basic tariff for high season started out at €50 a night, I w met by one of the owners who offered me a much more reasonable rate of €16 a night, for the placement, wifi and use of their rather lovely swimming pool. A bargain I think you'll agree! Sure enough, I made good use of the pool, the bar, the restaurant and the wifi. I had planned to stay for another night, but the weather reports going forward looked pretty dire so I headed out again towards Agde, between Frontignan and Narbonne which is where I find myself now! After a pretty tiring ride I fell upon the highly recommended Camping La Neptune gratefully. Last night brought forth a truly awesome thunderstorm - about half an hour of flashes of lightning in the distance before the storm moved overhead for about quarter of an hour accompanied by a deluge of heavy rain and bolts of lightning falling pretty close to where I lay in my tent, including one crash that seemed only metres away - feeling the earth shake, hearing the distinct crack of the fork rather than a distant rumble and with the air itself fizzing in the aftermath, then listening to the sounds of the storm receding off in to the distance! Really awe-inspiring stuff! Today is, as expected after a show like that, much cooler with almost complete cloud coverage. It's still low 20's, but with the scattered rain showers I'm pretty glad for my day off! Next in my sights is Narbonne, then heading across the bottom of the Pyrenees towards some old friends in Biarritz - I'll let you know how it goes, but that's ciao for now!

Back to life, back to insanity.

From Florence to Rome to Dublin to Cork to Rome to Marseille. It's be an interesting couple of weeks! I'll start off in Florence, where I left off last time. After the Pitti and the Bargello there was only really one feasible next stop - the Uffizi Gallery. It's one of the most incredible collections of art that the World has ever seen, containing pieces from Ancient Greece, Rome, early religious pieces, Renaissance, Old Masters and much more - Caravaggio, Van Dyke, Titian, Holbein, Raphael, Michaelangelo &c. &c. The list goes on and on. The queue for entrance when I arrived was approximately six hours long - such are the prices to pay for being cultural in the height of the tourist season. Thankfully the price for skipping the queue was only an extra three Euros on top of the entrance fee! I had thankfully heeded advice and called ahead to reserve my ticket, and after 20 minutes of rushing round like an idiot and joining a few of the wrong lines I thankfully found the right one, quickly acquired my ticket and went straight on in. Reservations over the phone are an absolute must for those of you who want to visit it. I was absolutely astounded that more people didn't take advantage of this, but it's their loss! I spent far too much time in the gallery, about five hours in total but it was fantastic and a real eye-opener and well worth the time. Afterwards I made a quick visit to an exhibition held by a shoe-shop of all places! They had supplied many of the shoes for Marilyn Monroe back in the day, and now, 50 years after her death, were holding an exhibition - my Godfather had lent several of his pieces to them, so I felt a little familial obligation to pop in on his behalf! After heading back to the campsite and spending another evening trying to ignore the Olympic water-polo (it was exceptionally boring) I packed up my bits in readiness for the morning and when that arrived I loaded up my bike and headed back in to Florence to grab a train to Forano, just outside Rome, to see France in readiness for heading back to Ireland for Christian and Leonie's wedding. I spent a couple of days stuffing my face with local Italian goodness before jumping on a train and a plane to Roma Da Vinci airport and jetting back off to see my family. The re-union was great, and reminded me how much I've missed my family in my short time away. We spent a couple of days with Leonie's family feeling the warmth of their ever-present hospitality before my Dad and I hired a car to drive around the west coast of Ireland taking in Connemara, the Cliffs of Moher, a truly stunning pass through the mountains, the Ring of Kerry, Tra Li, Galway, Kenmare and much more. Ireland really is a beautiful place and it's easy to see why they call it the Emerald Isle. As the locals said, if they had the weather to match it would be the nicest place in the World! The wedding itself was epic, with everything that was planned (and there was a heck of a lot of it) going perfectly. Huge congratulations again to everyone involved, and especially the (very) happy couple. After the wedding (and a much needed day of recovery) I jumped on a bus down to Cork and flew back out to Rome. When I was greeted by Franco I was told of the weather that had been brewing in my absence - a heatwave that the locals had nick-named "Lucifer". According to Franco (an Italian native who lives in Jersey) he had never seen anything like it - temperatures hitting 40-45c in central Italy, and not much better on the coast. All Rome needed was Nero with a fiddle... With this sort of weather I knew that there was no way in hell of carrying on travelling down and with great reluctance and a tinge of disappointment I jumped on a train and headed up north. After a lovely 24 hours of travelling including bedding down in a train station with about a hundred other travellers for a couple of hours between 1.30am to 5.00am I arrived, tired and tetchy in Marseille. I grabbed a bite to eat early on and headed off for a lovely little 40km ride out of the city to my first campsite back in France, Camping La Mas near Sainte-Croix on the Cote Bleu, which is where I am now! After that ride I know that I made the right decision. Although the weather was a full 10c lower than the weather I would've encountered in Italy and the humidity significantly less, it was still incredibly taxing. The water in my bottles was fit for making tea by the time I had finished, and I had to stop for an hour and a half's siesta in the early afternoon as it was too hot to even read in the bus shelter by the side of the road. I'm planning on staying here for another night - doing a little shopping and a little swimming in the gloriously blue mediterranean sea, as well as planning for the next few days and heading off again. I'll let you know in due course where I get to! Ciao once again for now.

To Toscana

As the title suggests I am now in Tuscany, just outside of my new favourite city - Firenze (that's Florence to any non-Italians out there). This is another truly beautiful part of Europe, and definitely another place that I will visit again in the future. This segment starts where the last left off - on Lake Maggiore in the North of Italy. I spent a couple of days on the lake soaking up the sun and the atmosphere - I arrived there on a Sunday, so the beach next to the campsite was predictably full of Italian families taking advantage of the weather and being as unrestrained as only Italian families can be. After being told that the campsite didn't accept credit-cards (as an aside, it seems that pretty much nowhere except big shops in Italy accept payment by card - small wonder why their tax collectors are so inefficient...) I went in search of a Bancomat which resulted in a lovely little tour of the area and surrounding towns (the first was out of order, the second had been demolished, along with the bank it had been attached to, the third had run out of money so it was only the fourth on my list that was of any help, hence the slightly exaggerated tour of the surrounding area!). I left Maggiore after a couple of days with a slightly heavy heart - it was truly stunning, and being so close to the lakes was just great, but the next part of my trip was one that I'd been looking forward to since the planning started in Jersey - Tuscany. I had done a little research on the possibility of cycling down through Northern Italy, but this was a no-go. It's not just the Appenines stretching across the middle of Italy that caused issues, but the fact that there appear to be no campsites between the lakes and Tuscany! Rough-camping is very much against the law in Italy and I didn't really fancy a fair few days worth of travelling with no facilities at the end of the day, so I hopped on a train (well, technically four (five if you include the one I was thrown off)) down to La Spezia. Arriving at about seven in the evening I had looked forward to a couple of k's ride to the campsite for the evening - unfortunately I had worked this out from a different train station to the one that I had alighted from, so I had a good hour-long ride minimum before I could settle down for the night. Once again my GPS provided me with a couple of little traps that I hadn't considered, sending me half-way up a hill full of little steps before I came to the path that it was sending me which was straight up a load more incredibly steep steps - a total no-go which resulted in me having to work out my own route up to the campsite, swinging round the hill in almost the opposite direction - not fun. Arriving at the campsite at around nine o'clock wasn't ideal, but the fact that it led directly down into the Med was a real fillip - being an islander and not having seen the sea for two months, this was a big deal. I therefore set up my tent (after being fed a lovely cold beer by a Swiss chap that I never saw again) and donned my swimming shorts and headed down for a late-night swim off the rocks in the warm salty water of the Mediterranean. Heaven. Unfortunately the rest of the night wasn't quite as much fun - no wind, stifling heat, a full moon and enough mosquitoes to put vampires out of business culminated in a grand total of 0 hours sleep and a night spent counting the hours slip by. Not fun. I had planned on spending a couple of days here (just outside La Spezia) to try and plan the route down through Tuscany but the hellish night, high tariff and lack of WIFi quickly put pay to this notion. Instead I loaded up the bike as quickly as possible and headed off to Viareggio. The ride was great - a big slug of downhill as I left La Spezia and the Apennines followed by a long straight road following the beach for mile after mile in the hot sun. I stopped off at a rather strange establishment - a motley collection of chairs, swings, hammocks and the likes all arranged underneath a load of leafy trees providing as much shade as could be wanted. Their only fare was freshly made fruit juices so I settled down for a lovely banana, peach, strawberry and orange juice which provided enough energy to finish the trip to Viareggio. Once there I realised that in my rush to leave La Spezia I had left my battery with the office to charge overnight. Rather than backtrack for a few days (and spend another night of no sleep) I called them and they agreed to pop the battery in the post down to where I was. It really was no hardship to wait for it however, as Viareggio was lovely. I spent a day in the town shopping for a few bits and pieces that I needed (mosquito repellent, t-shirts to replace mine that were falling apart etc.) and took advantage of a couple of days off by visiting a very accomplished Italian barber for a trim! I also met a lovely German couple, Leonard and Miriam) camped in the tent next to me - we got on like a house on fire and spent a long night cooking a barbecue (very slowly as it happened), listening to music and generally just chilling and beering until three o'clock in the morning! After my battery arrived I headed off to Pisa - the ride was pretty short, but very pleasant and arriving at the campsite in the early afternoon gave me plenty of time to cycle the 12k to Pisa and spend the afternoon in the city. After visiting their stunning cathedral and, of course, climbing the tower of Pisa, I headed back to the campsite to prepare for the next ride. Unsurprisingly these preparations included a lovely big pizza, lots of white wine, several beers, a group of French students and a Polish couple motorbiking through Europe. Leaving early the next morning I got as far as the front gate before realising that I was missing my GPS, resulting in me unpacking ALL of my gear outside the main entrance to the campsite which went down well... Thankfully it was only hiding in one of my shoes, so after hastily repacking I jumped on the bike and aimed in the general direction of Florence. The ride was pretty hard truth be told, but rewarding. After a stonkingly hot day (36c) and climbing to several hundred metres above sea level I arrived at Camping International Firenze. After setting up camp and showering I settled down to an evening in the cafe/restaurant for a few beers. Bliss. I spent the evening in the company of a lovely Kiwi girl chatting for hours and trying not to fall into a coma whilst watching the Olympic water-polo (they didn't even have horses - what a con). Today was spent in my new favourite city of Florence, spending my morning in the Museo del Bargello, crossing the Ponto Vecchio, lunchtime in a lovely little cafe overlooking the Palazzo Pitti and then my afternoon soaking up the Medici and Renaissance culture. After all the slagging off of my GPS that I've done, I think that I'd better come to its defence a little - it is a great piece of kit and although it tests my patience sometimes, it is a life-saver at others, especially on days like today when visiting a new unknown city and flitting from landmark to landmark. Tomorrow will be spent in the Uffizi, one of the best galleries that the World has to offer, and then it's off to Rome in preparation for heading off to Ireland for my Brother's wedding! So that brings me to where I am now. I'll see some of you in Ireland in a week or so, but until then, ciao!

Mountains and Lakes - Switzerland and Italy

By my reckoning, I've now been on the road for two and a half months. Time to make some awards: Best for food - the French. Unsurprising really, but there's nothing like a French croissant or baguette no matter how hard the rest of Europe try, and the quality of the food is just so high from markets or restaurant. Biggest surprise was Belgium - a lovely country with lovely people and I'll definitely head back again. Best roads: Switzerland. They win by a margin. I met a family a couple of nights ago who described driving over the border to Italy as driving into one big pothole. The Germans came a somewhat distant second and unsurprisingly the Italian roads thus far are the worst. For cycle lanes, I think that the Dutch have it by an edge from the Germans. They both have wide networks, but the when the cycle path is wider than the road in parts, you know that the Dutch have their priorities right! Scenery comes down to a three-way battle between some glorious parts of the Rhine and the Black Forest in Germany, the Italian/Swiss lakes that I'm traversing at the moment and Lake Geneva. I think that Switzerland just nicks it due to the view from Montreux out into the lake surrounded by the start of the Alps. Oolderhuuske in the Netherlands definitely deserves a special mention and also wins in the Best Value category, with Lake Lugano coming out as worst (not that it wasn't lovely, it's just that CHF40 a night combined with Swiss prices for everything else is not easy on the wallet). That was last night, which brings me neatly onto now! As I write I'm sitting just off Lake Maggiore. The coast is about 100m away and it is seriously hot. I left off last time in Geneva and headed out the next morning towards Lausanne, fittingly the home of the International Olympic Committee, though I doubt many will be staffing their offices now! The campsite was nothing special when considering the price but it was clean and within a short walk of the Lake (Geneva still). An early start the next morning took me off towards Montreux, a town about the size of St. Helier though slightly more affluent! The morning's ride was seriously tough, including a chunk of pushing the bike uphill when heading through the foothills of the mountains that surround the region. Although this was a huge effort and had me almost wiped out by lunch-time the afternoons ride was absolutely joyful! After a couple of hours drifting up and down the side of roads clinging to the hills and a short stint under a tree to avoid the heat of the day the first big chunk of the afternoon was spent racing down long winding roads through vineyards towards the level of the lake and the second chunk winding along the waterfronts of the towns crowding the coast. It was great when a fifteen foot tall bronze Freddie Mercury hove into view, and I stopped off for the obligatory photographs and to soak up the wonderful atmosphere and weather. Montreux is a great town for music and there are live jazz bands and individual musicians dotted around all over the place. The campsite was a welcome surprise at a very reasonable CHF18 a night (about £11). I said at the start of my trip that if I particularly liked anywhere then the freedom of my plans would give me the chance to indulge and the weather, scenery, atmosphere and everything else persuaded me to stay for a few days to take it all in. After that it was down to Italy. A short (four hours, standing with my bike) hop over the Alps dropped me off into Milan and I swiftly jumped on another to head back up towards the Italian lakes starting with Lake Como. After stepping out into the sweltering humidity and heat of the region my priority was to find a campsite - the ones I had scouted out were 15k away and through some pretty tough looking hills. With it getting on in the evening Christian (that's my brother by the way) came to my rescue with some research on campsites a little closer to me! At about half-pas eight I pulled in to a very basic campsite, though with the welcome addition of a swimming pool and a good restaurant. After a short dip I partook of my first pizza in Italy for some years and was thrilled that a hefty calzone, half litre of beer, large carafe of wine and a snifter of grappa came to less than the cost of a store-bought lunch a couple of days before! The swim and part of the evening were spent in the Company of Andy and Anne, a couple of CTC members with two of their daughters in tow who followed a similar route to me though sightly faster as they had on this occasion eschewed the bikes and jumped into the car!! Friday's ride was a relatively short one 45k) to try to adjust to the condition of the roads, temperature and humidity and of course the temperament of Italian drivers. In the latter regard I've been pleasantly surprised - although they drive undoubtedly quickly and a few times closer than I'd like, they are for the most part aware and understanding of cyclists. The amount of cyclists on the road during the weekends might give some explanation as to why this is the case, and a large proportion of the drivers must be cyclists themselves. For the second time in two days I crossed the Swiss/Italian border as I hurtled on to Lake Lugano (60kph is seriously fast when you're load with as much gear as I have!). Lugano was, as I've said, both seriously stunning and seriously expensive. A bad wifi connection (charged for) and a camp party with assuredly the World's worst DJ (playing New York, New York halfway through a rousing set whilst trying to sing along but not knowing the actual words really kills the atmosphere - I could tell from a tent thirty feet away...) left a bitter taste in the mouth, thou assuaged somewhat by the experience the next morning of watching the sun rise from behind the mountains from the confines of my tent. I'd done most of my packing before the sun was fully up which is a must here as the temperature in the tent goes from comfortably warm to hotter than a beach on Mars in a matter of minutes. I still don't think this is gong to inure me to early starts however. Today's ride (for that was this morning) was probably the best day's riding I've ever had. Starting off following the lake around for half the morning followed by climbing the foothills through typically Italian towns in the strong sunlight, then drifting down through Varese and towards Lake Maggiore I extended my ride somewhat, following the river at the foot of the lake for a few miles before crossing and heading back up towards the campsite. This is another truly beautiful part of the world, and the people here (albeit many of them tourists) are lovely. I've been offered use of a cooler for my beers today by one neighbouring tent and been fed a large slice of watermelon by the other! There are so many little comedies that I see when I'm riding, too numerous to mention - stints of off-roading when I decide that I know the route better than the GPS, children trying to row a boat across the river Neckar, an old man teaching himself windsurfing with extremely limited success or just watching the ducks, swans, herring-gulls, pigeons, starlings and other sea birds fight out the hierarchy whilst being fed bread. I know that I've got a few of these on camera which I'll share as soon as I can but the are hundreds that remain only in memory, but I'm glad they're there at least! The sun has just gone down, the temperature has dropped from it's earlier high and the theme tune to Top Gun is drifting through the breeze from a nearby camper van. I'm off to cook my dinner and I think I'll call that a night!

Planes, trains and automobiles (without the planes or automobiles)

The area around the black forest is stunning, and definitely somewhere that I will visit agin. There is a beautiful peaceful tranquility. Riding only 100 metres from busy roads is still totally quiet, all of the noise cancelled out by the thick wall of trees and greenery. I left off last time near Karlsruhe, and stayed there for another night due to the (increasingly wet) weather. The campsite itself was pretty basic, and bearing in mind the weather there weren't too many people around. My decision to delay heading off towards Stuttgart was justified by the next day's ride - 100k on the dot, through some serious hills as I moved away from the Rhine. The ride was great, with loads of beautiful countryside, and some great downhill tracts in stunning sunlight. Stuttgart itself was fascinating - the city is of some serious size - 6,000,000 people around the metropolitan area - and it's probably the biggest city I've cycled through thus far. The city is surrounded by some very high hills which proved a somewhat challenging start to the next day and signalled the start of the serious hills that have featured much more over the last week. I spent a nice quiet night in the city, sleep didn't come too difficult that evening! Finding the campsite that night was something of a challenge - I've had an experience before where the campsite that I planned to stay in simply wasn't there (thanks again Google!) and was a little worried that I'd have to carry on for a significant distance or try and find a hotel, but thankfully I loaded the GPS coordinates from the tinterweb and found the site without too much of a problem. The next day was a pretty tough ride even though I only covered about 45k thanks to some seriously tough hills and detours after arguing with my GPS about not wanting to ride on busy main roads! The ensuing couple of days were a real treat as I arrived in Tubingen on the River Neckar. The campsite, very reasonable, very pretty, with a lovely little restaurant and the best chips I've ever tasted was about 4k away from the aforementioned University town. The first night was spent savouring a few beers and getting acquainted with the local speciality of schweine-schnitzel and chatting with a couple of married Dutch head-teachers touring during the school hols. A young Dutch couple had introduced themselves, and I spent a good deal of time in their company over the next couple of days. In the morning I headed towards the local beer garden in Tubingen, encountering the music department of the Uni on the way with their choir blasting out traditional German classical music through an open window. I rewarded my walk with a lovely weissbier and bier-pretzel before taking a walk around the town. Stopping off in the cathedral I continued on the musical theme and sat listening to a very good organist practicing his music, though quite of a type that I'd never heard before - melancholy and almost bitter, but extremely well executed none-the-less. After a hearty lunch at the beer garden (pretty much a whole pig with dumplings) followed by a deserved ice-cream from a nearby cafe I wandered back to the campsite. I ran into Tim (one half of the lovely Dutch couple) on the way back and suggested a few beers for the evening so we wandered back in later and enjoyed a few more beers in a now well packed beer garden, encountering a barman from Exeter on the way! The area was so nice that I stayed for another day giving me the chance to catch up on some much needed washing and maintenance and after another evening with my neighbours (this time cards and pork-steaks with the obligatory weissbier) I set off again. The next day's ride was hard but rewarding. Long climbs through beautiful scenery and sharp descents followed each other rapidly and a stunning few km's through a forest capped the day off nicely. The campsite wasn't much, but cheap, clean and with friendly staff. It was only an overnight stay, but it served me well. The next day I had a short hop across to Rottweil where I jumped on a train for the day and crossed into Switzerland. Looking back at some of the scenery on the way I'm pretty glad that I did, otherwise I would probably still be on one of the various mountains now! I had intended to head for Zurich and cycle through to Geneva, but on the Spur(r) (geddit?) of the moment decided to head for Geneva to meet up with Jean-Luc, an old friend of mine residing in the city. After looking at some of the mountains I would have had to have crossed I think it was again the right decision! The scenery was incredible (including a schloss overhanging the cliff next to a waterfall!) and gave me a real feel for Switzerland. Geneva is a city of less than 200,000 people but feels much larger when trying to negotiate it on a heavily laden touring bike. After spending a frustrating hour heading out of the city proper (the lights stay red for AGES) I ignored my GPS and followed a cycle route right on Lake Geneva to my campsite. As I had expected it is expensive, but lovely. Right on the lake and with excellent facilities. I had planned to stay for only one night, but thanks to Jean-Luc and his penchant for inducing hangovers I booked in for another night. I spent today (for this is when I'm writing the blog) on a "plage" that included no sand, but a beautiful panorama of the lake. Breakfast this morning was a couple of croissant shared with the incredibly tame ducks who were pecking at my shoes, lunch as well of the rest of the day spent looking out over the lake with the temperature in the mid 30's, and dinner was (is) in the restaurant attendant to the site and with one table (mine) overlooking the lake! My next plan is to tour Lake Geneva for a bit and head to Montreaux, the home for a long time of Freddie Mercury. For those of you who know me well, this will be something of a pilgrimage and I'm looking forward to it greatly. After that, probably a bit of Italy and then Croatia, but apparently there's the little matter of a wedding to interrupt my trip. So again, that's me for now. I leave you as I'm sitting with a glorious view over Lake Geneva drinking a bottle of lovely Swiss red wine on a warm summer evening whilst working on my Best Man's speech. Until next time all...

Riding the Rhine

When I left off last time I was just outside Bonn, popping in and out of the city to try and sort a couple of bits out - no real problems, and it was lovely to have a couple of days rest on a lovely part of the river, and lovely it is. As I've said before, the Rhine is a beautiful part of Germany. It's very green, and often very tranquil. There are very good cycle paths going the whole way down, both next to the river and more inland if you want to cut a bit off the distance between A and B. Needless to say, having no real time constraints, I've been mainly following the meandering path of the river down-country (or up-hill as I near the Alps). Thus far I have been mainly lucky with the weather - the latter parts of Holland ushered in some beautiful sunshine, which has followed me most of the way down the river, however the last couple of days have been slightly less kind. I have a new addition to the bike - I stopped off at a bike shop to replace a coupe of broke spokes and decided to invest in a mirror. It's not particularly elegant or stylish, but it's a real help when riding on roads, something I am once again doing more of. As I've mentioned to a few people, I had the misfortune to see the after-effects of rather a nasty accident - if you don't want the particulars, skip over the next paragraph, but at least take this message with you - when cycling, ALWAYS wear a helmet. I was just past Remagen in the early afternoon right on the river - there is a high wall on the land-side of the path due to the changing levels of the Rhine over the seasons and on the other a couple of feet of brush before the river itself. As I was passing the scene, I noticed a bit of commotion and a couple of old chaps looking down the side of the path. I stopped to see if I could help, I carry a basic first-aid kit at the top of my pannier in case of minor emergencies, but I quickly realised that this wouldn't be much good. In the bushes were two men giving CPR to a third, one working on his chest and the other providing artificial respiration. I offered my services, but there was clearly little I could do - both of these men knew what they were doing vis-a-vis CPR, so I ran up the road to direct the Ambulance which had been summoned some minutes earlier. Once it arrived the Paramedics were extraordinarily efficient, taking control of the situation immediately, taking over the CPR and starting defibrillation. Unfortunately there was nothing that could be done. I spoke briefly with the paramedic who reckoned that the man had suffered a heart attack or similar whilst riding. The quick CPR provided by the two members of public and the quick response of the Ambulance would likely have saved his life, but the fact that he had crashed without a helmet, resulting in severe head trauma had wiped out any chance of survival. At the time it was a pretty horrific event as you can probably imagine, but if I can take any positives at all from it it is to encourage everyone that I know to take serious care when cycling and to ALWAYS wear a helmet, without exception (when cycling that is). YOU CAN START READING AGAIN. After the accident I spent the night in a lovely campsite, right on the Rhine near a place called Boppard. My pitch was almost on the river, beautifully sheltered but unfortunately shared with a couple of thousand mosquitoes. I am still sporting multiple wounds from them. I haven't tended to eat out too much on this trip, surprising maybe to those of you that know me well, but it's not all that easy. First is the price, which when you compare it to another night on a campsite seems a high price to pay, then there's the timing. A large meal at lunch-time is a no-go, as cycling on a full stomach is a recipe for disaster. In the evening, more often than not I am simply too tired to want to go through the rigmarole of sitting down and being fussed over. That evening however, my hunger overtook me, especially when I noticed the local speciality - a kilo and a half of ribs, served with bread and a pretence of a salad (sweetcorn, beans, sauerkraut and a chilli - mmmm). It went down exceptionally well, and a large part served as the next day's lunch as well - happy days! After Boppard I headed towards Mainz and spent a night surrounded by English voices! Besides me there was a Geordie (Alex - GeordieOnABike.com) the writer of a blog I have read a few times previously, an English couple on a motorbike on their way home and at least two other English (speaking at least) couples in the campsite overnight! The following days ride was a killer - headwinds all day and a long chunk of riding. I was heading towards Mannheim and the ride took me up and down hills, through winding roads (when all you want to do is go straight on), through a few very large industrial sites (including one owned by BASF that seemed about the same size as Jersey) and then through Mannheim itself. I don't know if I just saw a bad side of the city, but it was easily the least pleasant I've been to yet - impersonal, complicated traffic systems, dirty and noisy. Not what you want in a holiday destination. The campsite however, extremely close to the city as it happens, was charming. There is a large headland separated from the city, and composed entirely of woodland, with the campsite making up the very tip. I spent a very enjoyable evening in the company of a German lady who was into the last couple of days of a three-week tour, and then a couple of lovely lazy days sitting by the river (or in my tent thanks to the sodding rain) relaxing and waiting for a delivery from Jersey. The package arrived yesterday evening, so this morning I set off towards Karlsruhe. The ride today was fabulous - the scenery was great, changing from farms to small towns to river-side paths frequently and, although the wind was in my face most of the day, it wasn't too strong and my legs felt great for their rest. I had my first taste of the Black Forest - ignoring my GPS which wanted me to take a main road was an easy call on this occasion, and I spent a fantastic hour and a half cycling through the cool shade, watching streams and joggers flow past with an equal rapidity. As for now I'm sitting in a campsite just outside the city. I've just arrived, my tent is up and I'm looking judiciously at the restaurant, though it's more likely that my stove will be called into action again tonight. The next main target is Switzerland, but I'm told there might be some little hills in the way. I'm trying to work out a reasonable path at the moment, and will be off first thing tomorrow. Speak soon.