Sorry for the long delay in writing, I had already given up on finding internet cafe here in Italy, but the man from this fantastic B and B has kindly given me access to his computer.
I have cycled right through to Sicily where I arived yesterday and I have one more week to make it to Palermo. Done 6000 km in 60 days , not too bad for an old dude eeh.
Anyway I have lots more to tell but that will have to wait maybe til Rome.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Hotels closed for a summer break !
Down from the Dolomites mountains, I arrived on the shores of the Lago di Garda, it has steep mountains all around it and beautiful old towns on its shores with little ports and lots of al fresco dining, so what is the cath ?
It is very popular with tourists and being Italy, egoes are running wild here. Ferraris, Porches etc. are plenty and out of them emerge bronzed people dripping with gold and Chanel glasses, they really put on a show , the poor bastards. The men wear white ironed designer shorts with matching Polo shirt and the whitest sneakers I have ever seen, they must look at me with my old t shirt, pants 2 sizes too big by now and my Crocs and think that I am here to scavenge in the rubbish bins. They are not far wrong because the cost of living is considerable. I booked into a little camping ground up on the hill, away from the crowds and that set me back Euro 20 or about nz $40, makes Norway look like real bargain. For that you also have to provide your own toilet paper. The fact that the weather was great and I was parked under some big olive trees with grand views over the lake made it slightly more bearable.
As beautiful as it was, it was too busy for me and I left yesterday. I spent the first 2 hours manouvering between the kerb and the cars, there is only space for one road between the lake and the mountains, there was a constant traffic jam. When I arrived at the bottom of the lake and finally was able to turn into a side road that directed me south to the country side, the traffic was literally gone within seconds and after 5 minutes I was on my own on a country road to Mantova.
I did meet a great dutch couple at the lake in Castelletto and after a couple of beers we had dinner together with a good conversation that was a welcome relief from the usual "where are you from and what do you do" kind of mindless chatter.
Sometimes you meet people who you start sharing personal information with after a couple of hours because you feel you are on the same wave length, very satisfying and it leaves room for thoughts and opinions to come to the surface that you would otherwise not be exposed to.
I still have to get used to the fact that everything closes here between 12 and 4 in the afternoon, that there are no campings outside the real tourist areas and no Broccoli in the shops, which for me is a staple in my diet.
I cycled in this reasonably big town called Carpi and asked for a camping, yes turn left and then 1 km and ask again. After cycling around for half an hour and repeatedly asking people ( most of them do not speak english ) I figured out there was no camping so I went into the centre looking for accommodation and found that there were 2 big hotels and both had a sign on the front door saying that they were taking a summer break and closed down for 2 weeks !
So today it is off to Florence, one city I do want to have a good look at.
Arrividerci !!
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
17 aug more photos
From the north of Norway to here in Italy people have the same habit, throwing their rubbish on the side of the road.
The north point of Lago Di Garda
Deatail of the centre of Trento
The photo with Fausto Coppi on the top of the Passo PordoiMonday, August 16, 2010
16 august Lago di Garda
This morning I am off to the Garda lake, had a lovely long conversation with my darling last night who celebrated a big birthday without me. She really is the most wonderful woman around, just the fact that she lets me spend the life savings while she walks the dog in the NZ winter is a sign of true love !
Sunday, August 15, 2010
14 august honeymoon the french way
After a rest day in sillian on the austrian-italian border I took off towards the famous ski resort of Cortina d'ampezzo. The rest day had done wonders, the first 40 km was a slow and gradual climb to Cortina where I had my lunch on a bench on one of the main streets and all the old italian ladies wished me bon appetito or something to that effect.
After lunch polished off 2 mountain passes, the first one at 2100 meter, the next one, Passo Pordoi at 2237 meter. On the top of the latter I stopped to get the rain gear out for the descent and several other cyclists were doing the same. I got talking to these 3 young french guys about the usual boring stuff and after a while when I was ready to go I asked them if they were leaving as well, ah well they couldn't because one of the guy's wife had not reached the top yet. This was getting interesting. The couple had gotten married 2 months ago and it was her idea to go on a cycling holiday as a sort of late honeymoon. I told him that if he wanted to stay married he should not leave his wife to climb on her own while he is having coffee with his mates on the top, I mean what was he doing anyway on a honeymoon with his 2 mates !
On the top of this Passo Pordoi was a huge foto of Fausto coppi arriving on the top in the Giro d'italia of 1952. Now that's the stuff that gives me goose bumps, one off the greatest cyclists ever raced here where I was standing, we cycled the same roads !
I thought it would be great to take a photo of the photo and as I was doing this I noticed the puzzled looks of an italian couple. To explain why I was doing this I said to them " Fausto Coppi eeh " . No reaction, I had just found the only 50 year old guy in Italy who had never heard of Fausto coppi ! That is like walking through auckland and meeting a 50 year old kiwi bloke who has never heard of Edmund Hillary or Colin Meads, it just doesn't happen.
He laughed a bit embarrassed and apologetically said " we live near the beach", quite what that had to do with his ignorance I don't know unless news has not filtered through to the italian beachside communities for the last 50 years. Fausto coppi is more famous than the Pope here , he was no one trick pony like Armstrong and Indurain, he won the lot, classics, 5x Giro D'italia I think , tour de France, wordl championship, the lot. If you want to know more about him, google him and find out about the Dama Bianca affair that reached the Vatican.
Just when I thought I had seen all the campings and situations possible I arrived in Canazei, another ski resort that has ski lifts situated right next to the shops and hotels in the middle of town, now that's service ! Something for Queenstown to think about.
The camping was full but he could fit me in somewhere, the friendly owner told me, so off we went around the corner to about 8 m2 of grass cramped in between 3 caravans. I had to be careful not to touch any of them when I pitched my handkerchief. I have gotten used to the disbelieving looks of the other campers, no I am not mad, now fuck off and shut that kid of yours up so I can go to sleep.
After lunch polished off 2 mountain passes, the first one at 2100 meter, the next one, Passo Pordoi at 2237 meter. On the top of the latter I stopped to get the rain gear out for the descent and several other cyclists were doing the same. I got talking to these 3 young french guys about the usual boring stuff and after a while when I was ready to go I asked them if they were leaving as well, ah well they couldn't because one of the guy's wife had not reached the top yet. This was getting interesting. The couple had gotten married 2 months ago and it was her idea to go on a cycling holiday as a sort of late honeymoon. I told him that if he wanted to stay married he should not leave his wife to climb on her own while he is having coffee with his mates on the top, I mean what was he doing anyway on a honeymoon with his 2 mates !
On the top of this Passo Pordoi was a huge foto of Fausto coppi arriving on the top in the Giro d'italia of 1952. Now that's the stuff that gives me goose bumps, one off the greatest cyclists ever raced here where I was standing, we cycled the same roads !
I thought it would be great to take a photo of the photo and as I was doing this I noticed the puzzled looks of an italian couple. To explain why I was doing this I said to them " Fausto Coppi eeh " . No reaction, I had just found the only 50 year old guy in Italy who had never heard of Fausto coppi ! That is like walking through auckland and meeting a 50 year old kiwi bloke who has never heard of Edmund Hillary or Colin Meads, it just doesn't happen.
He laughed a bit embarrassed and apologetically said " we live near the beach", quite what that had to do with his ignorance I don't know unless news has not filtered through to the italian beachside communities for the last 50 years. Fausto coppi is more famous than the Pope here , he was no one trick pony like Armstrong and Indurain, he won the lot, classics, 5x Giro D'italia I think , tour de France, wordl championship, the lot. If you want to know more about him, google him and find out about the Dama Bianca affair that reached the Vatican.
Just when I thought I had seen all the campings and situations possible I arrived in Canazei, another ski resort that has ski lifts situated right next to the shops and hotels in the middle of town, now that's service ! Something for Queenstown to think about.
The camping was full but he could fit me in somewhere, the friendly owner told me, so off we went around the corner to about 8 m2 of grass cramped in between 3 caravans. I had to be careful not to touch any of them when I pitched my handkerchief. I have gotten used to the disbelieving looks of the other campers, no I am not mad, now fuck off and shut that kid of yours up so I can go to sleep.
11 august The biggest day ?
Last night I made it just over the border into austria again and tried to ring my wife from a phone booth , yes they still do exist but obviously are not used a lot so people like me are charged 19 Euro ( NZ $38 ) for the first minute and 4 euros for every minute after ! Luckily they announce the cost before you are asked to dial the number so I hung up as I fell down from the shock.
Today was the day I feared most because of several reasons not the least the height I had to cover. another reason was that I planned to have a rest day before attacking this climb but it just did not work out so off I went to cross the Alps via the road with the beautiful name of Grossglockner hochalpenstrasse. The Grossglockner is one of Austria's more well known mountains which lies to the west of the actual road. I had to cover 60km to get there which was through a valley and then just past the Zeller Lake the road starts at about 850 meters and for about 25km climbs relentless ( 12- 14 % ) to 2571 meters.
Climbing high mountains is both a physical and a mental challenge. I tried to get into a rhytm but I really felt the 20 kg of luggage dragging me back and the steepness changed all of the time, in the end it didn't matter because I was on the granny ring the whole climb ( for those non cyclists, the granny ring is the lowest gear). The mental game is played around the height notifications on each hairpin and being able to see the road far above you and I started doing the maths of how long it would take to get to the top which is even more demoralising if things are not going well.
Half an hour before the top it started to rain which somehow sucked a bit more of what little I had left out of me. By the time I reached the top I started crying, it came out of nowhere and it wasn't because of the sense of achievement, it was pure and utter exhaustion, I was fucked, shagged, knackered, quartered and drawn and for the first time this trip I felt my age.
10 minutes on the top, then into warm gear for the descent and that's where I cursed very loud!
I started the descent but to after about 2 km the road started rising again and I had to climb again back to 2500 meters where unbeknown to me was a "second top", fucking austrians.
Ended up in Heiligenblut at around 6.30pm after about 105 km of pure masochism and very happy with myself.
Today was the day I feared most because of several reasons not the least the height I had to cover. another reason was that I planned to have a rest day before attacking this climb but it just did not work out so off I went to cross the Alps via the road with the beautiful name of Grossglockner hochalpenstrasse. The Grossglockner is one of Austria's more well known mountains which lies to the west of the actual road. I had to cover 60km to get there which was through a valley and then just past the Zeller Lake the road starts at about 850 meters and for about 25km climbs relentless ( 12- 14 % ) to 2571 meters.
Climbing high mountains is both a physical and a mental challenge. I tried to get into a rhytm but I really felt the 20 kg of luggage dragging me back and the steepness changed all of the time, in the end it didn't matter because I was on the granny ring the whole climb ( for those non cyclists, the granny ring is the lowest gear). The mental game is played around the height notifications on each hairpin and being able to see the road far above you and I started doing the maths of how long it would take to get to the top which is even more demoralising if things are not going well.
Half an hour before the top it started to rain which somehow sucked a bit more of what little I had left out of me. By the time I reached the top I started crying, it came out of nowhere and it wasn't because of the sense of achievement, it was pure and utter exhaustion, I was fucked, shagged, knackered, quartered and drawn and for the first time this trip I felt my age.
10 minutes on the top, then into warm gear for the descent and that's where I cursed very loud!
I started the descent but to after about 2 km the road started rising again and I had to climb again back to 2500 meters where unbeknown to me was a "second top", fucking austrians.
Ended up in Heiligenblut at around 6.30pm after about 105 km of pure masochism and very happy with myself.
10 august diving hairdressers
So after a big night with the locals it is on to Salzburg, beautiful town but one I wasn't happy in because I saw everything twice or more as I got lost. Before I got there I decide to get a haircut and found a friendly young woman who could do the job straight away. we engaged in a conversation of were I came from blah blah... and she told me she likes to go somewhere warm, she had been to the Dominican Republic and she had also been diving in the Maledives which was also in the Carribean she informed me. My suggestion that it might be in the indian ocean was brushed aside and then there is that decision to make in a split second to decide to argue or to ask her if she was driving a Mazda MX5 but decided all of that was pointless and left her in the Carribean. Finally found my way back to the german border to take a shortcut to austria again ( if you look at a map you will know what I mean) . You end up in this far little corner of Bayern well known for the town Berchtesgaden where Hitler had his Bach which he called the eagle's nest. I believe you can visit it but it fell outside my 100 meter rule and besides it is too creepy for me.
Cycling around here is like riding on a model train set, this has to be the classic design for model railway enthousiasts around the world, it is pretty and fastidious, every village filled with big traditional style houses with geraniums hanging off the balconies and beautiful mountains in the background.
I can guarantee you that a non conformist person would not survive here, if the locals don't drive you out, you'll leave before you go mad in this Truman show.
When they say hello here and in austria a lot of people say "gruss gott", which means " greet god" and although it is clearly an old custom it still souns pretty fundamentalist to my ears, I mean what does the local turkish restaurant owner say in reply? " gruss allah" ?
Cycling around here is like riding on a model train set, this has to be the classic design for model railway enthousiasts around the world, it is pretty and fastidious, every village filled with big traditional style houses with geraniums hanging off the balconies and beautiful mountains in the background.
I can guarantee you that a non conformist person would not survive here, if the locals don't drive you out, you'll leave before you go mad in this Truman show.
When they say hello here and in austria a lot of people say "gruss gott", which means " greet god" and although it is clearly an old custom it still souns pretty fundamentalist to my ears, I mean what does the local turkish restaurant owner say in reply? " gruss allah" ?
9 august geraniums and ghurkins
Nothing like starting the day on a terrace in front of a decent Konditorei ( bakery) on a old market square in a nice german town. All the houses are covered in geraniums and other annuals which gives it a cheerful look. I am a man of habits and this one has become a favourite, every morning I take off between 8 and 9 am and after about an hour and half I stop for a coffee and something sweet which usually means some kind of fruit pie as it is a bit early to have a go at one of the girls behind the counter.
I am really warming to Germany, the people are without exception very friendly and relaxed, good service and the food is great, a real easy country to travel in.
This morning I as I cycled past a field of ghurkins I saw a german take on the number 8 wire attitude. There was a tractor with 2 big wings about 2 feet off the ground and the wings each had a tarpaulin roof on them. On each side lay about 6 kids on their bellies with their feet pointing towards the direction the tractor was going and they picked ghurkins as while the tractor slowly moved forward. They threw the ghurkins on a belt in front of them and the ghurkins ended up being spit out at the back onto a trailer. all of this was done accompanied by loud german hoompa music, you know the lederhosen slapping kind.
The day had a happy ending too . When I crossed into Austria for the first time i found this neat little camping ground right across the border and after putting my tent up and having a shower I went to get a wheat beer or as they say here, a Hefe . The little cantina on the camping ground is also the Local for a few people who live around the neighbourhood and they immediately invited me onto their table, did I mention that the beer is great around these parts of the world and very beneficial for your health ! Of course it would be rude to say no so I joined in and after finding out about people's health , careers and dreams of coming to NZ and what I was doing here and another Hefe they felt safe enough to talk about dutch tourists and their habits !
How they bring so much food supplies with them from home that the car exhausts and caravan axles glow and sparkle on the road. We all remembered the famous story of the dutchman who was pulled over by german police because he was clearly overloaded and when they opened the boot there was, amongst the contents of a small supermarket, about a 100 kg of potatoes.
I did not feel safe enough to share my conversation with a german pensioner that I had had earlier in the day though. As I was having my lunch on a park bench he approached me and we started talking about pensions and how he didn't get much because he had done too many cash jobs over which no deductions were made and about world politics and it is always good to find someone in agreement , someone just as cynical. Anyway I told him I was about to cross into Austria on my way to Italy and he did not have a lot of nice things to say about his neighbours, he ended the conversation with the advice of putting a Swastika on my passport, that way they would welcome me with open arms !
It is true that Austria has always been a breeding ground for extreme right politics but holland, France, Belgium and england all have their share of right wing nutters.
I have to say though that checking into a camping in austria is like trying to get into the USA, short of finger printing and DNA profiling they want to know everything, some insist on holding your passport until you leave .
We have a saying in holland that roughly translates into : The way the Innkeeper is, is how he trusts his guests.
I am really warming to Germany, the people are without exception very friendly and relaxed, good service and the food is great, a real easy country to travel in.
This morning I as I cycled past a field of ghurkins I saw a german take on the number 8 wire attitude. There was a tractor with 2 big wings about 2 feet off the ground and the wings each had a tarpaulin roof on them. On each side lay about 6 kids on their bellies with their feet pointing towards the direction the tractor was going and they picked ghurkins as while the tractor slowly moved forward. They threw the ghurkins on a belt in front of them and the ghurkins ended up being spit out at the back onto a trailer. all of this was done accompanied by loud german hoompa music, you know the lederhosen slapping kind.
The day had a happy ending too . When I crossed into Austria for the first time i found this neat little camping ground right across the border and after putting my tent up and having a shower I went to get a wheat beer or as they say here, a Hefe . The little cantina on the camping ground is also the Local for a few people who live around the neighbourhood and they immediately invited me onto their table, did I mention that the beer is great around these parts of the world and very beneficial for your health ! Of course it would be rude to say no so I joined in and after finding out about people's health , careers and dreams of coming to NZ and what I was doing here and another Hefe they felt safe enough to talk about dutch tourists and their habits !
How they bring so much food supplies with them from home that the car exhausts and caravan axles glow and sparkle on the road. We all remembered the famous story of the dutchman who was pulled over by german police because he was clearly overloaded and when they opened the boot there was, amongst the contents of a small supermarket, about a 100 kg of potatoes.
I did not feel safe enough to share my conversation with a german pensioner that I had had earlier in the day though. As I was having my lunch on a park bench he approached me and we started talking about pensions and how he didn't get much because he had done too many cash jobs over which no deductions were made and about world politics and it is always good to find someone in agreement , someone just as cynical. Anyway I told him I was about to cross into Austria on my way to Italy and he did not have a lot of nice things to say about his neighbours, he ended the conversation with the advice of putting a Swastika on my passport, that way they would welcome me with open arms !
It is true that Austria has always been a breeding ground for extreme right politics but holland, France, Belgium and england all have their share of right wing nutters.
I have to say though that checking into a camping in austria is like trying to get into the USA, short of finger printing and DNA profiling they want to know everything, some insist on holding your passport until you leave .
We have a saying in holland that roughly translates into : The way the Innkeeper is, is how he trusts his guests.
Friday, August 13, 2010
6-7-8 august Czech Republic, home of pilsener
THe Czech Republic has not had the money behind it as East Germany had from the west and it shows. The roads are pretty rough, I was lucky to have a mountain bike, a lot of the cycling path along the Elbe was unsealed and the sealed roads are all patched up or still full of potholes. Some houses have been done up but the overall look is pretty dreary, admittedly I saw it through the rain for 2 days which does not help.
I ended up in a little village and booked into the locla hotel. As usual my " please no meat for breakfast" was met with the now familiar look of disbelief and " you sad bastard".
In the pub annex restaurant there were 3 guests of which I was one and we all sat quitely staring into our beers and waiting for the pint to start talking. I got the menu card which was useless as I could not read a word on it, apart from a fact that did worry me and that was that behind every dish there was a number of grams which had to mean that everything was meat.
Luckily there was fish on the menu.
It is always a bit awkward dining out on your own, all the couples are looking at you and the staff hate losing a whole table to 1 person, one waiter helpfully gave me some car magazines with my first drink.
While you sip from your drink ( in this case a very fine pilsener that originated from around this town) you look at all the kitsch hanging on the wall, check for phone messages and observe the couples sitting silently opposite eachother having stopped having anything to say to eachother a long time ago.
Tonight with just the 3 of us sitting there I felt like a right sad bastard I can tell you, I had some much promise and this is where I ended up.
Back to the bedroom then with the brass bed ends and sagging mattress, glass side boards and discoloured 1960's prints that people pay a fortune for on Trademe, the plastic flowers on the table finished it off nicely.
At breakfast I was met by an old woman who was taking the bread rolls out of her bag and dumping them on the table. I had by now figured out that the Czechs are generally not a barrel of laughs, they are not rude, they just do not say more than necessary but if feels a bit grumpy when you are on the receiving end.
All of a sudden she got quite excited and came over to me with some grey slices packed in plastic and she started making chicken noises and flapping her arms, quite sweet really. I am always amazed by the number of people who don't consider chicken to be meat.
The homemade apricot jam looked promising until I lifted the lid and found more mould than I have ever seen on a Petri dish in a Lab, luckily the cheese she gave me did not move.
Back to the room and in the corridor were the first smokers to have their ritual "cough up lungs" early morning fag. One guy I had seen the night before, he was such a heavy smoker he had to buy carbon credits to offset his own emissions and his lungs probably contain enough tar to fill a pothole in Memory Lane when the time comes.
On the bike again and the deep tracks in the roads were turning into little streams as the rain came down, I had difficulty keeping my eyes on the traffic and cycling through those streams when out of the corner of my eye I saw a car approaching me and the driver had his arm out of the window which seemd quite unusual in the rain. As he came closer I realised he had a bottle in his hand and was aiming for me, sutre enough as we passed eachother he threw it at me and missed me by a couple of meters.
I did not take it personal as I did not know him but with a bit of luck he would have hit a tree in the next ten minutes. I know you should never wish that on anyone but who hasn't once in his life wished that some nuisance would just disappear and die ?
I had decided to bypass Prague, it did not fit into the 100 meter rule by a factor of 50 and I was told that it is a tourist trap with nice old houses, well I had just entered Plzen ( no, that is not a spelling mistake, there are a lot of place names here that read like personalised plates ) and it had lots of beautiful old buildings and big avenues to get an idea, as I said before it is all a variation on the same theme.
About 50 km before I cycled into the city I came across the hop fields and a bit later I was passed by a truck that had a big image on it of a blonde woman with plats, tits hanging out and a few beers in her hands, I was on the right track !
What Mecca is to the muslims and Jerusalem to the Christians and Jews is Plzen ( the germans call it Pilsen and nearby is the town of Budweis ! ) to us beer lovers. Instead of hanging a sheep upside down and perform some form of animal cruelty we go to the local pub, make ourselves comfortable and brace ourselves for the taste sensation that is about to follow. Having said all of that, after a few of those monster size steinies you have no idea anymore why you came here or where you are.
I ended up in a little village and booked into the locla hotel. As usual my " please no meat for breakfast" was met with the now familiar look of disbelief and " you sad bastard".
In the pub annex restaurant there were 3 guests of which I was one and we all sat quitely staring into our beers and waiting for the pint to start talking. I got the menu card which was useless as I could not read a word on it, apart from a fact that did worry me and that was that behind every dish there was a number of grams which had to mean that everything was meat.
Luckily there was fish on the menu.
It is always a bit awkward dining out on your own, all the couples are looking at you and the staff hate losing a whole table to 1 person, one waiter helpfully gave me some car magazines with my first drink.
While you sip from your drink ( in this case a very fine pilsener that originated from around this town) you look at all the kitsch hanging on the wall, check for phone messages and observe the couples sitting silently opposite eachother having stopped having anything to say to eachother a long time ago.
Tonight with just the 3 of us sitting there I felt like a right sad bastard I can tell you, I had some much promise and this is where I ended up.
Back to the bedroom then with the brass bed ends and sagging mattress, glass side boards and discoloured 1960's prints that people pay a fortune for on Trademe, the plastic flowers on the table finished it off nicely.
At breakfast I was met by an old woman who was taking the bread rolls out of her bag and dumping them on the table. I had by now figured out that the Czechs are generally not a barrel of laughs, they are not rude, they just do not say more than necessary but if feels a bit grumpy when you are on the receiving end.
All of a sudden she got quite excited and came over to me with some grey slices packed in plastic and she started making chicken noises and flapping her arms, quite sweet really. I am always amazed by the number of people who don't consider chicken to be meat.
The homemade apricot jam looked promising until I lifted the lid and found more mould than I have ever seen on a Petri dish in a Lab, luckily the cheese she gave me did not move.
Back to the room and in the corridor were the first smokers to have their ritual "cough up lungs" early morning fag. One guy I had seen the night before, he was such a heavy smoker he had to buy carbon credits to offset his own emissions and his lungs probably contain enough tar to fill a pothole in Memory Lane when the time comes.
On the bike again and the deep tracks in the roads were turning into little streams as the rain came down, I had difficulty keeping my eyes on the traffic and cycling through those streams when out of the corner of my eye I saw a car approaching me and the driver had his arm out of the window which seemd quite unusual in the rain. As he came closer I realised he had a bottle in his hand and was aiming for me, sutre enough as we passed eachother he threw it at me and missed me by a couple of meters.
I did not take it personal as I did not know him but with a bit of luck he would have hit a tree in the next ten minutes. I know you should never wish that on anyone but who hasn't once in his life wished that some nuisance would just disappear and die ?
I had decided to bypass Prague, it did not fit into the 100 meter rule by a factor of 50 and I was told that it is a tourist trap with nice old houses, well I had just entered Plzen ( no, that is not a spelling mistake, there are a lot of place names here that read like personalised plates ) and it had lots of beautiful old buildings and big avenues to get an idea, as I said before it is all a variation on the same theme.
About 50 km before I cycled into the city I came across the hop fields and a bit later I was passed by a truck that had a big image on it of a blonde woman with plats, tits hanging out and a few beers in her hands, I was on the right track !
What Mecca is to the muslims and Jerusalem to the Christians and Jews is Plzen ( the germans call it Pilsen and nearby is the town of Budweis ! ) to us beer lovers. Instead of hanging a sheep upside down and perform some form of animal cruelty we go to the local pub, make ourselves comfortable and brace ourselves for the taste sensation that is about to follow. Having said all of that, after a few of those monster size steinies you have no idea anymore why you came here or where you are.
fotos
this is at the top of the Zeller Lake, Austria
I had to get across the mountains in the distance
typical tiroler village snapshot
they take their wood collecting for winter very serious here.
So this is where it all started ....
From left to right: Lisa, Marcel ( my best mate from Holland ), my nephew Pim, brother in law Bram, and my sister Anita. taken in Bad Schandau on german -czech border.
still a bit of old east germany left
seen while cycling into Berlin
in front of the Brandenburg Tor, BerlinWednesday, August 11, 2010
3 august Berlin
like all big cities, Berlin is quite stretched out , it took me a good 50 km from north to south to cross.
The centre is befitting of a world city, big treelined avenues, imposing architecture both modern and classic and tons of upmarket shops with marble facades. The streets aren't too busy , possibly because this is the holiday period for the german workers.
On my way to what turned out to be a fantastic vietnamese vegetarian restaurant I turned into a street that was blocked off on both ends with steel pillars that could be sunk into the ground.
Only cyclists and pedestrians could get through. One whole side of this street was taken up by an enormous office building that turned out to be the british embassy and it had big steel gates and four loitering german police officers in front .
I guess the powers that be had decided that it was unlikely that Al Queda would ram a Mountainbike with panniers filled with explosives into the building. Quite why an embassy had to be the size of an airport terminal I wasn't sure until I realised that the brits are probably still unaware that the wall has come down around the corner. Are they still playing 007 in there?
The no doubt hundreds of staff could be doing most clerical work from London one would think. With fast broadband around these days passport and trade work can be done anywhere, just leave some skeleton staff to deal with applications and england's greatest export product: the hooligan. Every time Man United or Liverpool play in Germany there are always a few who get carried away in the spirit of the game and do a professional demolition job of a pub and its customers and then they need to be shipped out of the country.
I would be very surprised if that place costs less than a million pounds a week to run.
The next day I had to cycle through the city centre to go south towards Dresden. I had a coffee at Starbucks next to the Brandenburg Tor. The Mc Donalds under the coffee places, they can afford the prime locations but the coffee they turn out is sweet milky froth, how hard can it be to make a decent coffee when you have the resources like they have. Imagine countless people in the head office being paid big bucks to dream up new silly recipes and then ending up with selling half a litre of sweet milk with coffee flavour ?
When you turn south at the Brandenburg Tor you cross into old east german Berlin pretty quick, and despite the enormous renovations you can clearly see the difference , the overall look is still a bit shabby.
I caught up with my sister and family and ended up on a lovely old market having dinner and beers outside and catching up.
The next day my brother in law , Bram and my nephew Pim who is 12 cycled with me to Bad Schandau which was a 115 km demanding trip, Pim did not give in, that's my boy !
My sister had organised a hotel in Bad Schandau, right on the river Elbe and she was already partying with my mate Marcel and his partner Lisa. They had come across from Holland to catch up and to see an old tram that rides up a valley there . Marcel is sort of a tram geek, you want details of what series drives around any old european town and you've got the man.
Marcel had had a few wheat beers, german size, by the time we arrived and was in a very good mood which really made the night.
5th of August: Bram and Pim cycled with me over the german border into the Czech Republic.
After lunch they put the bikes on the car and went to Berlin, Marcel had to stop at the german border because he and Lisa had forgotten their passport and thought it a bit unwise to travel further.
The centre is befitting of a world city, big treelined avenues, imposing architecture both modern and classic and tons of upmarket shops with marble facades. The streets aren't too busy , possibly because this is the holiday period for the german workers.
On my way to what turned out to be a fantastic vietnamese vegetarian restaurant I turned into a street that was blocked off on both ends with steel pillars that could be sunk into the ground.
Only cyclists and pedestrians could get through. One whole side of this street was taken up by an enormous office building that turned out to be the british embassy and it had big steel gates and four loitering german police officers in front .
I guess the powers that be had decided that it was unlikely that Al Queda would ram a Mountainbike with panniers filled with explosives into the building. Quite why an embassy had to be the size of an airport terminal I wasn't sure until I realised that the brits are probably still unaware that the wall has come down around the corner. Are they still playing 007 in there?
The no doubt hundreds of staff could be doing most clerical work from London one would think. With fast broadband around these days passport and trade work can be done anywhere, just leave some skeleton staff to deal with applications and england's greatest export product: the hooligan. Every time Man United or Liverpool play in Germany there are always a few who get carried away in the spirit of the game and do a professional demolition job of a pub and its customers and then they need to be shipped out of the country.
I would be very surprised if that place costs less than a million pounds a week to run.
The next day I had to cycle through the city centre to go south towards Dresden. I had a coffee at Starbucks next to the Brandenburg Tor. The Mc Donalds under the coffee places, they can afford the prime locations but the coffee they turn out is sweet milky froth, how hard can it be to make a decent coffee when you have the resources like they have. Imagine countless people in the head office being paid big bucks to dream up new silly recipes and then ending up with selling half a litre of sweet milk with coffee flavour ?
When you turn south at the Brandenburg Tor you cross into old east german Berlin pretty quick, and despite the enormous renovations you can clearly see the difference , the overall look is still a bit shabby.
I caught up with my sister and family and ended up on a lovely old market having dinner and beers outside and catching up.
The next day my brother in law , Bram and my nephew Pim who is 12 cycled with me to Bad Schandau which was a 115 km demanding trip, Pim did not give in, that's my boy !
My sister had organised a hotel in Bad Schandau, right on the river Elbe and she was already partying with my mate Marcel and his partner Lisa. They had come across from Holland to catch up and to see an old tram that rides up a valley there . Marcel is sort of a tram geek, you want details of what series drives around any old european town and you've got the man.
Marcel had had a few wheat beers, german size, by the time we arrived and was in a very good mood which really made the night.
5th of August: Bram and Pim cycled with me over the german border into the Czech Republic.
After lunch they put the bikes on the car and went to Berlin, Marcel had to stop at the german border because he and Lisa had forgotten their passport and thought it a bit unwise to travel further.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
2 august Beer and Hotels
Just as well I left a bit later this morning because at 9 am the local baker arrived in a truck and when she opened the side it revealed a full on window display of breads, pastries, cakes and rolls!
After buying my croissant and fresh strawberry pie she wished me a good breakfast.
On the road then and it keeps getting better, the roads are mostly hidden in majestic forests with deciduous trees of all descriptions. Every now and then a little village pops up and all the signs that advertise the fact that this or that accommodation is coming up in the next kilometer are accompanied by a label of the local beer they are selling, they really do have their priorities right here, bed and beer and she'll be right mate.
I entered the outer suburbs of Berlin late in the afternoon so decided to get some accommodation there as it should be cheaper than in the centre and I immediately found a newish hotel/ apartment building and a receptionist who wanted to deal as long as I did not want an invoice. He did not want a name either, this was obviously going straight into his pockets but it handed me the keys to a very spacy apartment with bath and kitchen for NZ$90.I even got to do all my washing for free in his commercial machine in the basement.
Wasn't so good for him this morning though I think. I decide I wanted to stay another night and to go and find an internet cafe and have a look at the centre of Berlin and I went to pay for another night. A woman was in the office and asked for me name on the register, there was no name i had to explain. Then she wanted to charge me 60 euro to which I replied that last night I paid $45, more frowning and question marks on her face, it took a few seocnds for the penny to drop and then she said " you obviously do not need an invoice". right again honey !
So off to the Brandenburger Tor und Ein Bitburger.
After buying my croissant and fresh strawberry pie she wished me a good breakfast.
On the road then and it keeps getting better, the roads are mostly hidden in majestic forests with deciduous trees of all descriptions. Every now and then a little village pops up and all the signs that advertise the fact that this or that accommodation is coming up in the next kilometer are accompanied by a label of the local beer they are selling, they really do have their priorities right here, bed and beer and she'll be right mate.
I entered the outer suburbs of Berlin late in the afternoon so decided to get some accommodation there as it should be cheaper than in the centre and I immediately found a newish hotel/ apartment building and a receptionist who wanted to deal as long as I did not want an invoice. He did not want a name either, this was obviously going straight into his pockets but it handed me the keys to a very spacy apartment with bath and kitchen for NZ$90.I even got to do all my washing for free in his commercial machine in the basement.
Wasn't so good for him this morning though I think. I decide I wanted to stay another night and to go and find an internet cafe and have a look at the centre of Berlin and I went to pay for another night. A woman was in the office and asked for me name on the register, there was no name i had to explain. Then she wanted to charge me 60 euro to which I replied that last night I paid $45, more frowning and question marks on her face, it took a few seocnds for the penny to drop and then she said " you obviously do not need an invoice". right again honey !
So off to the Brandenburger Tor und Ein Bitburger.
1 august east german cobblestones
Immediately after leaving the port of Rostock I got my first taste of old East Germany, a couple of kilometers cycling over cobblestones with deserted and derelict factories and overgrown railway yards along the way. This turned out to be quite common along the roads to Berlin, there were a lot of renovated houses and good raods and then all of a sudden I would encounter grey soviet style apartment buildings in the middle of a town the size of Kohukohu, very weird.
After about 20 minutes I came to a petrol station and bought a road map and a coffee and breadroll. As I sat there 4 guys cme in to buy beer, this 7am in the morning, and as 3 of them stood at the counter the obscured number 4 from view of the staff and he put a bottle of drink in his backpack with ni intention of paying. I stared at him and he turned red as a tomato and had a whisper to his mate who looked at me. At this point I made the decision to not say anything as I did not want a knife in my back for the sake of 2 euros, I did however inform the staff just in case they were regulars and they asked me why I did not say anything and I explained that with 4 guys and my bike and gear outside it did not seem a good idea to intervene.
I ended the day deep into enemy territory about 120 km from Berlin, in this delightful little village and a camping ground that reminded me of my holidays as a child, in fact that is the general feeling I have here, one of nostalgy, even in the small tourist towns around the lakes, where there are still the old fashioned tours on boats with probably cringing jokes.
The camping owner and I had a great conversation about fishing in Norway, which he does once a year, after he had gotten over the shock of seeing someone from NZ on a bike, loosely translated I would wrap his comments up as " you are fucking mad ".
Come the next morning though he refused to take any payment, I really hope you have good time here he said !
In the evening i wandered into the village, the main street lined with old oaks and there she stood: Cafe In die 3 Linden and man did they have the goodies !
I started off with a pint of the local brew, followed by a simple but beautiful main course consisting of pan fried native fish out of the lake accompanied by potato salad and some greens, quite possibly the best tasting fish I have ever had. After overhearing another table discussing the dark red beer that was on offer I made my choice for dessert.
The owner, a woman in her late thirties I think, was talking to some guests who were from the west of Germany and they behaved like aucklanders do when the come to the Hokianga, slightly superior and at the same time intrigued. They made some comments about how it was before the wall came down and she got a bit defensive replying that growing up in the eighties she never had the feeling that she missed out on anything and that it was not all bad, she probably has people commenting about East Germany all the time.
In a village nearby there were a few deserted baracks and offices and in front of one of the offices, on an overgrown lawn, stood an old horse plough on an engraved stone and it said on one side " I am free " and on the other side "never be someone's labourer again" .
After about 20 minutes I came to a petrol station and bought a road map and a coffee and breadroll. As I sat there 4 guys cme in to buy beer, this 7am in the morning, and as 3 of them stood at the counter the obscured number 4 from view of the staff and he put a bottle of drink in his backpack with ni intention of paying. I stared at him and he turned red as a tomato and had a whisper to his mate who looked at me. At this point I made the decision to not say anything as I did not want a knife in my back for the sake of 2 euros, I did however inform the staff just in case they were regulars and they asked me why I did not say anything and I explained that with 4 guys and my bike and gear outside it did not seem a good idea to intervene.
I ended the day deep into enemy territory about 120 km from Berlin, in this delightful little village and a camping ground that reminded me of my holidays as a child, in fact that is the general feeling I have here, one of nostalgy, even in the small tourist towns around the lakes, where there are still the old fashioned tours on boats with probably cringing jokes.
The camping owner and I had a great conversation about fishing in Norway, which he does once a year, after he had gotten over the shock of seeing someone from NZ on a bike, loosely translated I would wrap his comments up as " you are fucking mad ".
Come the next morning though he refused to take any payment, I really hope you have good time here he said !
In the evening i wandered into the village, the main street lined with old oaks and there she stood: Cafe In die 3 Linden and man did they have the goodies !
I started off with a pint of the local brew, followed by a simple but beautiful main course consisting of pan fried native fish out of the lake accompanied by potato salad and some greens, quite possibly the best tasting fish I have ever had. After overhearing another table discussing the dark red beer that was on offer I made my choice for dessert.
The owner, a woman in her late thirties I think, was talking to some guests who were from the west of Germany and they behaved like aucklanders do when the come to the Hokianga, slightly superior and at the same time intrigued. They made some comments about how it was before the wall came down and she got a bit defensive replying that growing up in the eighties she never had the feeling that she missed out on anything and that it was not all bad, she probably has people commenting about East Germany all the time.
In a village nearby there were a few deserted baracks and offices and in front of one of the offices, on an overgrown lawn, stood an old horse plough on an engraved stone and it said on one side " I am free " and on the other side "never be someone's labourer again" .
travel writers and sex
Travel writers and presenters of travel programs are notoriously asexual, Paul Theroux, Michael Palin, billy Connolly and Bill Bryson will tell you all about the fermented Yak milk they have been drinking with some obscure mongolian or welsh tribe and they'll go on about the warm traditional welcome they got in the japanese teahouse with the slippers on the doormat, but under whose bed they put their slippers at night we never get to hear, maybe partly because some of them are married, that doesn't make for liberal writing necessarily.
As for me, well i am not a famous travel writer so there is no need for me to elaborate on my findings at this stage, the fact is that after 10 hours on a bike I am well and truly shagged !
By the way, if you like Michael Palin's travel documentaries don't make the mistake to rent the DVD " nailin' Palin " in which a busty Sarah Palin lookalike invites a couple of russian soldiers into her home in Alaska ( after all she could see Russia from there) and gets served some russian meat in interesting ways. I have seen a preview and it gets pretty messy, not a lot of traveling involved either.
As for me, well i am not a famous travel writer so there is no need for me to elaborate on my findings at this stage, the fact is that after 10 hours on a bike I am well and truly shagged !
By the way, if you like Michael Palin's travel documentaries don't make the mistake to rent the DVD " nailin' Palin " in which a busty Sarah Palin lookalike invites a couple of russian soldiers into her home in Alaska ( after all she could see Russia from there) and gets served some russian meat in interesting ways. I have seen a preview and it gets pretty messy, not a lot of traveling involved either.
28 - 31 st of July flying visit of Sweden
My earliest memories of Sweden are of Pippi langstrumpf, knackebrod and the 4 petterson brothers from Faglum who won 3 world championships and a silver medal at the olympics in the team time trial. I know it is an odd fact to remember but there you go.
As young guys we went to Sweden and Norway on holidays sneaking a peak of the topless ladies at the beaches, the saying "happy as a sandboy " has never been more appropriate !
In the next few days after Pele and Astrid's B and B I flew through Sweden, averaging 120- 150 kilometer a day even though it rained most of the time. Because of the weather I stayed at another B and B and this time it was in a Cottage on a farm beautifully situated in a forest and of course on a lake, this one district had 400 lakes alone varying from a few hundred square metres to a hundred square kilometers.
As you have noticed this blog is not so much about the sightseeing, I have a rule that I don't stop to see anything that is further than a 100 meters off the road I am on ! So this rules out pretty much anything but the odd church. I make an exception late in the afternoon when i am looking for a camping ground but only if it is within 500 meters , I have been to a few that are full or not my cup of tea and then I had to peddle back again. Sticking these simple rules and not having a guide book makes life a lot easier, you don't know what you are missing so you are never disappointed and I have seen enough churches, museums and fortresses to know they are all a variation on the same theme, a bit like listening to Cold Play really.
I arrived at 7pm in Trelleborg and found out that there was a ferry going to Rostock in Germany that night at 11pm, so I visited the local Italian ,had a good kai and jumped on the ferry.
I never really saw the ferry as it was dark when I went on board, and from the cardeck , where I parked the bike, I went straight to the info desk and payed for a cabin, had a shower and went to bed. At 6am the ferry docked in rostock and I cycled to the nearest petrol station to get myself a map of Germany, always handy when you want to find your way to Berlin.
As young guys we went to Sweden and Norway on holidays sneaking a peak of the topless ladies at the beaches, the saying "happy as a sandboy " has never been more appropriate !
In the next few days after Pele and Astrid's B and B I flew through Sweden, averaging 120- 150 kilometer a day even though it rained most of the time. Because of the weather I stayed at another B and B and this time it was in a Cottage on a farm beautifully situated in a forest and of course on a lake, this one district had 400 lakes alone varying from a few hundred square metres to a hundred square kilometers.
As you have noticed this blog is not so much about the sightseeing, I have a rule that I don't stop to see anything that is further than a 100 meters off the road I am on ! So this rules out pretty much anything but the odd church. I make an exception late in the afternoon when i am looking for a camping ground but only if it is within 500 meters , I have been to a few that are full or not my cup of tea and then I had to peddle back again. Sticking these simple rules and not having a guide book makes life a lot easier, you don't know what you are missing so you are never disappointed and I have seen enough churches, museums and fortresses to know they are all a variation on the same theme, a bit like listening to Cold Play really.
I arrived at 7pm in Trelleborg and found out that there was a ferry going to Rostock in Germany that night at 11pm, so I visited the local Italian ,had a good kai and jumped on the ferry.
I never really saw the ferry as it was dark when I went on board, and from the cardeck , where I parked the bike, I went straight to the info desk and payed for a cabin, had a shower and went to bed. At 6am the ferry docked in rostock and I cycled to the nearest petrol station to get myself a map of Germany, always handy when you want to find your way to Berlin.
27 July B and B in Sweden
As I crossed the border yesterday at around 3 pm in the afternoon I was prety sure that there would be some camping grounds around but when 3 hours later I still had not seen any signs I decided to stop at a B and B just outside Amatfors.
It was a cosy, renovated old school building and the kind owners allowed me to use their washing machine and dryer, not unimportant after 10 hours cycling in the rain.
Pelle is a professional musician and he gave me a CD from his band's latest recording at the Red Bank studio in New Jersey, which I have not been able to listen to yet, so that will be a nice surprise for home.
Time for a verdict on Norway then. The landscape is quite overwhelming because of its huge steep rock walls , open plains, fast flowing rivers, enormous forests and fjords. It sometimes felt like everything was going to fall in on me, I really enjoyed biking around in it as there was hardly any traffic, especially in the north and it had a certain energy to it that really made me feel alive.
Everything in Norway happens with a murmur , no voices are raised , and although people are very , very friendly and ready to help I did not get a sense of excitement, maybe this is what happens if you live in a country where everything is taken care of, there is no need for real entrepeneurship. There were no big signs on the road telling me to come and visit their cafe and good food in the next km, no just a small sign easy to miss as you drove past and often they would be open for a few hours a day, I never saw a cafe open before 10 or 11 in the morning !
I got used to the prices and that should not put anyone off going there, just adjust your lifestyle to what you can afford, I hardly drunk any alcohol there, just the odd beer after a long day.
Time for a verdict on Norway then. The landscape is quite overwhelming because of its huge steep rock walls , open plains, fast flowing rivers, enormous forests and fjords. It sometimes felt like everything was going to fall in on me, I really enjoyed biking around in it as there was hardly any traffic, especially in the north and it had a certain energy to it that really made me feel alive.
Everything in Norway happens with a murmur , no voices are raised , and although people are very , very friendly and ready to help I did not get a sense of excitement, maybe this is what happens if you live in a country where everything is taken care of, there is no need for real entrepeneurship. There were no big signs on the road telling me to come and visit their cafe and good food in the next km, no just a small sign easy to miss as you drove past and often they would be open for a few hours a day, I never saw a cafe open before 10 or 11 in the morning !
I got used to the prices and that should not put anyone off going there, just adjust your lifestyle to what you can afford, I hardly drunk any alcohol there, just the odd beer after a long day.
Here is another video, of a village in the mountains of East Norway. It has been placed on the world Heritage list of Unesco. I had a restday there and when i woke up the second morning it was minus 5 degrees ! The water in my drink bottles was frozen. Anyway as you will see it turned out to be a great day.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)