I Need Closure!

So as I said in my last post we all need some kind of closure from this blog malarkey and it wouldn't be right, without boring you lot with a load of interesting stats and finally let you witness the fitness of my new manly beard (even my own mother was embarrassed to walk around with me!)

The journey back from Harwich to Norwich was comfortable and you could only imagine how much all my clothes, tent and equipment stunk. To say I was dying for a shower would be an understatement and I raced home in record time. I arrived round my Nan's at around 1ish to pick up the key to the house. I excused myself from going in, just because it she would have probably been violently sick at the smell.

I rushed home, whipped my kit off and lobbed it in the washing machine. I was about to dive into the beautifully clean power shower that was blasting at full pelt, when I realised the water was freezing cold. "Great!" I thought. I've just cycled home from bloody Turkey, for what; a freezing cold shower. I was desperate, so I dived in anyway (it wasn't like I was not used to cold washes anyway). The shampoo ran down my face was as dark as the nights sky and congealed in my hair, my feet were filthy and I'm not even going to describe the state of my saddle sore arse! Before I knew it the white floor of the shower had turned and a dark grey, but as it was getting darker I was getting cleaner and... Well you get the picture. It was a heavenly shower; despite it being cold; and to put clean non-cycling clothes on was a dream.

Nan prepared a lovely dinner, raspberries and yogurt and an endless supply of chocolate brownies. God knows, how many calories I ate in the afternoon. Following the dinner, I resided to the sofa to have a kip with my newly formed food baby. Bliss.

Back in Sunny Norwich - with my healthy drink!

So, for all you stats geeks out there. the trip stats are as follows:

General
Number of days cycling - 44
Number of rest days - 1 (still manage to get out for a cheeky 10 mile spin)
Countries visited - 16

Distance
Distance in miles - 3,523 miles
Longest distance in a day - 122.3miles

Altitudes
Vertical metres climbed - 47,957m (equivalent to climbing Mt Everest from sea to summit 5.4 times)
Highest altitude - 2787metres

Speed
Top speed - 47.5mph
Average speed - 13.65mph

Calories/Weight
Calories burnt - 105,795 calories (equivalent to 919 large chocolate chip cookies, or 27.47kg of body fat)
Weight lost and inches lost round waist- 8lbs and 1.5inches

Miscellaneous
Beard length grown - see below
Saddle sores endured - multiple
Fantastic people met - loads
Memories to last a lifetime










And finally the grand finale - THE BEARD in all its glory!

Massive anticlimax

I know it is pretty pathetic for nearly 7 weeks' hard work.


Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading the blog and all that jazz. Watch this space in June 2014 for my Round the world trip, where there is bound to be some ever-more exciting stories.

Thanks again,
Tom

Comments welcomed : )

The best things in life are free

 

In the past week or so I have been attacked by swallows, cycled through marajuna fields and had a roast dinner with a fellow Englishman.

I was surprised by France. For some reason I had this image of everybody being snotty and unfriendly; I was also dreading the language barrier because my French was by no means good and the French are renowned of hating people talking to them in Englis; I heard. I was pleasantly surprised, when I was about to tuck in to my home-made baguette with cheese and salami (I try my best to become cultured) and I got no more than 3 people chanting "Bon appetit" before I finished it, which was nice. The weather was also fantastic and some of the chateaus I saw, were quite amazing. Although, I was used to beautiful hilly scenery and it was tortuously flat, which brought the mountain blues after a few days riding.

Less than impressive flat scenery

Now when you read I had cycled through marajuna fields, I bet you thought, Netherlands. O no, I was following a river in the east side of France were to my surprise I got a pungent smell of grass, I cycled a further 100 metres and noticed I was surrounded by fields of the stuff. I was quite amazed and within 10 miles I must have cycled through enough fields to keep the whole of the Netherlands going for weeks. God knows how it is legal - or did I cycle through France's black farmers region?

Fields of the stuff!

Fire is such a morale booster after a long day's ride. Over the last leg I have been using sticks instead of meth spirit. Why, you ask? Basically, I bought some lighter fluid from a supermarket and it turns out it doesn't actually burn by itself and needs a host to fuel it. So anyways, getting back to my point; there is no greater feeling than having to wait 15minutes for your river water to boil so that you can have yourself a nice cappuccino. Best of all; all of your clothes smell of delightful smoke afterwards to remind you of the joyful experience. Living the Dream!

LTD!

I have cycled through France, Luxembourg, Belgium, Germany and Holland in the last leg and I would say the best moment would have to go to the roast dinner that Wilf (a WarmShowers host) cooked me... After a wet day cycling from Nancy to Luxembourg City, I texted Wilf to let him know that a very hungry cyclist would be arriving soon: it was a Sunday and no supermarkets were open, which meant i had to forrage for wild blackberries and lower myself to getting a McDonalds for lunch - which never fills the hole. Anyhow, the SMS reply I got back went on the lines of "Bring good mood, roast chicken ready for 7PM". The smile that lit up my face on reading this text must have been quite spectacular. The roast was great and the treacle pudding definitely did fill the hole, just what you need after a day's cycling. Thanks again Wilf!

Red sky in the morning; shepherds warning

 

The birds seem to have it out for people in France - I was attacked!

Keeping this one short and sweet and try to make it as interesting as possible. This is my penultimate blog of the trip, I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have been writing it. The final post will give a bit of a summary, some stats (I'm an Engineer after all) and the final infamous beard photo. It shouldn't be missed!

Lake near Col du Chat in Francais

 

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The Alps and WarmShowers!

 

The Alps. What more can I say? it is the most stunning and beautiful place in Europe without a question of doubt.

Col du Mont Cenis

I'm not sure what makes me love them so much. After all, they're not exactly a cyclists best friend: they are home of tortuous gradients, wet weather and up to 15 miles of uphill struggle. That doesn't bother me. To me it's a training ground, a time and place to think and a place where at times, the silence can be deafening.

Only a few days a go, I was slogging up the Stelvio Pass, 2758M high and home to 43 hairpins coming from the north side... most people would wince if they had to face this challenge. Not me. I loved every moment of it. Two and a half hours worth of sweating. Sweating from places you didn't think were possible. Motorcyclists drifting by effortlessly. I wasn't bothered, I was whistling along and admiring the beauty of the climb.

Stelvio Pass - highest pass in Italy

The other side of the Stelvio Pass

Only 3 cyclists passed me - which wasn't too bad I thought. They were on their top of the range carbon bikes. I passed more though; in the region of 30 would be my guess. I relished every moment when I saw the horror on their faces as they glanced at my tent and clothes strapped to with a bungee cord strapped to my rear rack, drying in the wind. One Belgium guy stopped me at the top and shook my hand, he couldn't believe I had come from Turkey and he offered hospitality in Belgium, if I wanted it.

Not fantastic planning from the Italians

Another fond memory was the pass I made over Passo Pennes (pronounced "Pen" "kness" - I think). Starting from Bolzano, this winds through a gorge that is a mere 2 metres wide, but 10-20 metres deep. The first 10km take you through a lot of tunnels; 80% of the road is tunnel and these range from 100 to a mile long. It then expands into an amass of space and grazing flocks (where I camped. It was bloody cold!). The following day I had a mere 800 vertical metres to climb, which I was dreading. It was pissing down and my lightweight mentality wasn't O too well prepared for cold weather. I put on my extra layer; in the form of a waterproof gillet and headed off. Within a 500metres I was soaked to the bone and shivering; the only good point was I was ascending and could keep reasonably warm. I reached the top and started to descend. I honestly couldn't feel my finger and my toes were freezing (the sandals didn't have much protection); I hadn't been as cold since Lawrence and I went for our 04:30 Cotgrave ride in the middle of winter. Don't ask.

Pass in Slovenia - I forget the name...

I got to the bottom and warmed up with a latte and apple strudel, and to my surprise it was a glass of milk and not the coffee I was expecting. I did wander why she asked me it for heiss or kalt.

Little wild camp near Lake Bled

Another hot topic of this week, quite literally, is that of WarmShowers. A website equivalent to Coachsurfer, specifically for the touring cyclist. I have had the joy of being welcomed into 4 people's homes in Slovenia, Italy and Austria and I cannot thank these people enough. Their hospitality was second to none; so thank you again Ferrucio, Piergiorgio and Emmanuella, Renato and Phillip and Nikki. I can return the favour, when I eventually get a house sorted for next year. It won't be much though!

PG and Emmanuella near Trento

 

Ferrucio in the plains of Northern Italy

 

Renato in Slovenia

Strava is now up to date peeps...

 

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From Montengro to Slonenia (pre-Alps)

 

First, but certainly not least an update is in order for 'Beardtacular'. As you may or may not have noticed; from the start of this trip I have been attempting to grow some facial hair in the form of a cozy beard. The reason behind this is merely to look cool and to be a 'real' adventurer. After all the beard is a useful tool; it is a good place to store food, keeping warm and most importantly to look masculine and attract. Unfortunately for me; my beard doesn't achieve any of these qualities after 21 days of growth. What do you think?

Handsome, hey?

As 3 weeks has passed, and 21 nights in a tent have been endured (some of which were most uncomfortable); I have a new frame of mind of what I see as a luxury item/good now. Firstly, backrests are completely under-rated, I would kill for one, when I am camping after a long day's cycle; soft soil is a definite luxury item and to have some nice dead leaves is a Brucey bonus (I don't have my bubble wrap mattress anymore. The bubbles popped.) this keeps me nice a warm at night. I don't know about you, but a nice plate goes amiss when you are stuck in a tent - you kind of have to get used to accepting that you are going to eat off the floor. It keeps your immune system on it's toes though!

One of the not so good wild camp spots - in Croatia (land of the rocks)

To give my opinion on some of the countries I have visited. Montenegro is absolutely stunning - the bays and mountains are lush, and very severe - which I love; it is an untouched less untouched Croatia. The British clearly don't know about this because I didn't see one GB car, while I was there.

Bay in Montenegro, near Bar

Croatia was over-rated and extremely touristy, which I didn't particularly like. Dubrovnik was full of backpackers and overcrowded and I didn't think it was overly special. Split was even worst. Not as beautiful and full of tourists - I couldn't even get a bed in one of the 15 hostels they had there! The coastline of Croatia is still stunning with picturesque islands and extremely warm sea. There was plenty of diving spots for me to practice my 1.5 flip with a half twist also; I messed it up a few times.

My diving platform in Croatia

Slovenia (before the Alps) is so-so. Ljubljana was C***. Not so much to see for the capital city and not as beautiful as I was expecting. I was intending to stay a night but instead I cycled the extra 80km to get to Lake Bled, which I recommend to anyone - more on the Alps in my next post.

Maybe not the size of Fawley, but the location contends! (Croatia Rijeka)

To give you the animal update: a gigantic insect in Montenegro with a large spike on its tail - was an interesting one. Also I saw a lot of living tortoises. Yes, that's right; living! A nice picture of a bird as well.

'Twas the size of ma hand

A tortoise

"Who's a pwetty birdy"

Will try and upload the most up to date routes onto Strava in the next few days.

 

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Do it Albanian Style!

 

Again the countries that people tend to avoid, are all the more better than the tourist hotspots. The media has put dark light onto these places and they have so much to offer.

A lake on the east side of Albania

The first Albanian I met after crossing the border "Welcomed" me to his country, which is a small but very powerful gesture.

And when I realised my front rack rivot had broken again (the other side this time), I was beginning to take the rack off to try and improvise something to get the rivot out. Within minutes, a middle-aged Albanian man came running over to see what I was up to. His English was fantastic (he explained he learnt this on TV, along with Italian and Greek). He worked in the local hotel and came back with some tools to make my job easier, after we realised we couldn't botch it. He got on the blower to a metals gate maker. This chap kindly drilled the rivot out and replaced it with a nut and bolt, shook my hand and that was it. Within 15 minutes it was fixed!

The food is very manly...

There is a large segregation between the poor and the rich in Albania. You notice this as soon as you enter the country. There are child beggers at the border, which contrast massively with the abundance of E class Mercs and posh houses that you see. One thing that did surprise me is that the poor were still getting about on horse/pony and cart (I felt bad getting photos, so haven't got the evidence unfortunately). Through Tirane, I also witnessed the slums and on two occasions dogs ran out into the road and I had a few near-misses... A crazy city.

The lakes on the east side of Albania are things that dreams are made of. The water is crystal clear and is as still as to appear like glass. There is also a fantastic mist that lurks in the middle and tall green mountains that surround it. It is a place that would be perfect for a LOTR movie.

Alongside the lake from LOTR

Why pay for the fish treatment. Come to Albania and get it free. Sorry Soph

Apart from the lakes the Mountains are spectacular.

Hair-pinned climb up to Tirane

The view from the top, with some of the locals

Must get on Sophie and ride or I'm not going to get anywhere. Over and out.

 

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The three S's - Sun, Sea and Cycling

 

It's been a while since my last blog post and a lot has happened since then: including cycling the whole way through Greece and into Albania; becoming a pyrotechnic in the woods of Kallish and closely being ravaged by two guard dogs. Not forgetting a few punctures.

A lake that near to where I wild camped in north-west Turkey

Where to start?

Greece. One of the great things about Greece is no more than it is a host to one of my favourite supermarkets - Lidl. In the past 4 days I have been treating myself to no end of scrumptious goodies and a good example of one of my hearty breakfasts is shown below - not the healthiest, but don't worry about that. The total calorific content of the pictured, comes in at over 2000 calories.

Whole loaf filled with Phili and salami, a choco mouse a whole pack of biccies and a bottle of pepsi

Another great thing about Greece is the women. Turkish women weren't best and I barely saw them because of the sexism in Turkey. Greece brings beaches. Beaches bring women. This is good for motivation and morale for a tired 22 year old on a push-bike.

Greece also brings fantastic views of valleys, mountains and the Greek riveria.

Life's a beach!

Greek riveria

A few things I'm not overly keen of about Greece are: Firstly the complete incompetence lack of respect of all guard dog owners. The casual passer-by (of the slower variety) have to fend these brutes off and the further you go off the beaten track, the more there are. On one particular occasion at around 16:30 (the become more active as the day cools off), two dogs gave chase to Sophie and I for around 200 metres. The smaller of the two listened to the beckoning of the owner; although the other saw red and had rage in his eyes and his teeth were presented as to give someone (being me) a good hiding. Luckily it was I had a tailwind and I managed to crank the speed up high enough to get away. Unfortunately I didn't see the railway track in time; Thump. Another puncture prevailed!

In the future I carry around the dog slayer (a decent sized stick) and I will show no mercy on these b*******!

Some Greek architecture - plenty around.

Another experience I had in Greece was that of starting a small bushfire. The way this came about was when I was cooking up my spinach and cheese tortellini with the methelated gel I got from Turkey. After waiting a good 10 minutes for the 400mls of water to boil; I was getting bored and hungry and put the tortellini in, despite the water not being overly hot. After another 5 minutes, I noticed the fuel was running low. Instead of waiting for the stove to cool I topped it up while it was on still hot. Next thing I knew, the bottle had exploded and highly flammable gel was all over the dry dead grass. Immediately I started stamping the fire out. Then, turned round to realise my shorts and the bag for my stove was also on fire. Eventually I put everything out and inspected the damage. Wasn't too bad, but the lesson was learnt - never fill up a hot stove and clear an area for the stove that is bigger than required.

My burnt stove bag :(

Out of the 14 nights I have had the pleasure of wild camping on most. To give you an idea of some of the locations I have been sleeping at check out the pictures below:

Camping at the beach in Greece

Camping on a pass near Florina in North-Western Greece

An update on the wild animal watch; below are pictures of a 12 foot snake with a 6" wasp having a go at it and a tortoise... Shell.

Dead, I'm afraid.

 

Dead, I'm afraid

It made a good picture though

In the end, I passed on Mount Olympus and headed north to some of the taller passes. 5000ft of sweat and tears below.

Pass near Florina in Greece

 

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Rocking out to Islamic Prayer!

 

I wanted to further elaborate on the machine I'm spending most of my time with.

Sophie. I give all my bikes names, it's the first thing I do when I get a new one and most of the time they have the same first letter of the manufacturer. I suppose it's similar to people giving the cars names - it's not that odd is it?

Turkish breakfast

One of the interesting things about Sophie is she is her on little power station: the front hub (or left kneecap) generates enough power to keep my GPS, iPad, phone and iPod juiced up - cool huh. Another thing people may find interesting is that the frame itself is steel tubing, rather than aluminium. There is a good reason for this, even though steel is three times heavier than alu; it provides a dampening characteristic than no aluminium frame could match. A small compromise on weight, means I can "ride Sophie" for "harder and longer" than ever before!

Sophie's not scared.

Another big change I made from the last tour is to cut weight down to a minimum. This means thinner tyres, which unfortunately means, more punctures; a lightweight groupset; chamois leather for drying myself, pans and clothes and instead of using pannier bags, I use stuff sacks which reduces weight by 2kg. This doesn't sound a lot, but cumulatively I've reduced the weight by over 10kg, which is a hefty amount when you're powering up a mountain pass.

 

An early morning rise

My bad streak of punctures continued and I would even go as far to say - "got worse". I had got as far as improvising my tent repair patches to try and avoid a further flat. Nothing worked and in the end the 20+ mile walk to Izmir, seemed like the only option. I started to walk and without the cool breeze, my entire body was covered in beads of sweat within 200 metres. Instead, I stuck my thumb out. Within 2 minutes or just over 10 cars, somebody pulled over. Sahir helped me chuck Sophie into the back of his truck. The stench in the back was unbearable - it stung the nostrils; although it was a damn sight better than walking. I would have guessed he was a sheep farmer and he'd clearly locked his flock in the back for the past few month's without cleaning them out.

He took me to an Oto Lastik shop, which to me and you, is a tyre repair place for cars. This proved to be useless. After a few calls, Sahir had found out where the local crazy bicycle guy lived.

A short plump-looking Turk greeted us. Definitely had to many pies in his time. Even though he looked like the kind of guy you would want for a Grandad. He was so enthusiastic to help and hailed his "woman" down - his words, not mine; to cook us up some breakfast and pop a brew on. While he fixed the tyre and the front rack (the rivet had snapped off), he talked about his love for bikes and proceded to show me his vast collection of girls - he was quite a pimp. He had enough bikes in his garage and once-before bathroom to get half of Izmir on the road.

Ahmed and his girls

After he finished, he bid me farewell and when I offered him some money, he rejected it and said "No problem".

Beach break

I only found out yesterday the exchange rate between Turkish Lira and Sterling. To my surprise I was getting 3 Liras for every pound; before I found this fact out, I treated Lira as if it was of the same value as the Euro and was pleased to find out I had spent less than 50 quid in 8 days :O

Heading down to Cannakale

 

Last night I had the pleasure of sleeping outside a mosque. This came about when I got chatting to a local roadside seller, who's brother owned it. He sorted me out enough fruit to last me a few days for the monstrous price of 17p or 0.50 Lira and gave me directions to the mosque.

To say I got a good night's sleep would be a lie. Every few hours, Islamic prayer was blasted out of the loudspeakers at a similar noise level to a nightclub. This went on till about midnight and then they gave me 5 hours break before an especially prolonged prayer at the crack of dawn.

The local Mosque

The route is now uploaded onto strava for anyone who may be interested.

 

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