Finding Bill

Work stuff

2011-02-20T13:28:00.003Z

The last two weeks have been busy for me. On the work front Nigel, our PM, returned back to the UK to start a pre-booked three week holiday last Friday, which left just Leakey (the tech architect) and myself as the on site consultants. Before Nigel returned to the UK I have to say I was beginning to get a little riled with Leakey, who has been a strong advocate of reoganising the software development to become Agile driven. As part of this he started to dictate to me what I should be doing, not something guaranteed to foster good working relations.

Things started to get more fraught as the week progressed with John, the owner, pressing Leakey for his input on matters. Perhaps a database design? Maybe some coding standards for the mostly green developers? Things came to a head on the Friday afternoon when Leakey was finally meant to be presenting his suggestions for improvements to John. And the suggestion was to implement an Agile process which he launched into with gusto. Now, some of you are techie types who will know about this sort of thing and some not. If you're not please do bear with me for a moment and I'll try and explain a little. Agile is a process for developing software that covers a multitude of sins albeit with an emphasis on keeping things "lean": fine tuning requirements as you go along, self tasking on a daily and longer basis. It's terribly dynamic and just a tad American (whilst "Extreme Programming" has some things to commend it, the name is not one of them, whatever next, extreme ironing?). Leakey started off with slides covering the Agile Manifesto (yes, it's called the Agile Manifesto...). Anyway, for those of you unaware of this Manifesto ("like your manifesto put it to the test-o"*) it reads:

We are uncovering better ways of developing software by doing it and helping others do it.
Through this work we have come to value:

Individuals and interactions over processes and tools
Working software over comprehensive documentation
Customer collaboration over contract negotiation
Responding to change over following a plan

That is, while there is value in the items on the right, we value the items on the left more.

He then expounded on the virtues of not producing any processes and not needing any more documentation. And you know, there is a lot to be said for this approach if you're overburdened with processes and have a highly experienced team ready to tackle a new project with vim and vigour. Rather less to be said for it if you don't have any real processes, tools or comprehensive documentation to start with and a team overwhelming made up of recent graduates. A long full and frank discussion between John and Leakey ensued during which I spent a lot of time looking at my watch to see just how late I was going to be for my supposed early out to miss the traffic and get to a National Park whilst it was still daylight. Oh, and I practised my ESP death ray powers as well but alas, still not got the hang of it. Maybe I should start on goats. At the end of the discussion John took me into his office and vented on me... he was somewhat upset that after spending thousands of Euros all he'd got was "one powerpoint slide and a load of bullshit". Quite.

I eventually hit the road a couple of hours late and had to phone a few work people on the way. More on the big game weekend in a later post. Leakey was given until Tuesday to come up with something practical. Like a DB design. He didn't. He did come back with another twelve powerpoint slides extolling Agile though. I am now the only consultant on site.

* Answers as to where this comes from on a comment please, no cheating and Googling!

First week on the job

2011-02-02T18:19:00.004Z

Been settling into the job over the past few days although as I was in Egypt only a little over a month ago and given how much it's been on the TV of late I keep getting a little confused where I am. I know, I know, not much change there.

So, where to begin? Well, as the previous post indicated the apartments are very nice, regular home away from home. Got picked up at 9AM on the first day and taken to the office, marvelling all the time that I'M IN AFRICA! Whoa!!! Been twenty years since I was last in Kenya and now here I am working. I know I've been to Africa since then, most recently last December but that was North Africa. I ended up, you may recall, reaching Aswan, the furthest outpost of Mediterranean civilisation for millennia and considered pushing on. For me though, Africa is Sub-Saharan Africa with all it's riotous, rainy and sun baked melee.

Mind you, the areas I'm living and working in are pretty up market compared to where I was last time, although the red brick soil remains the same. Talking of my previous visit, part of a year spent backpacking around Africa, I mentioned to the boss of the company I'm working at that the last time I was in Nairobi I'd stayed on Latema Road and had been drinking in The Modern Green Day and Night Bar. He cracked up laughing at this as The Modern Green has one hell of a reputation, almost literally. Africa does dodgy bars like nowhere else I've been.

Work is pretty full on and is basically a consultant role. I'm one of a three man team, a technical architect by the name of Leakey who's a local chap returned here after years working at Deustche Bank, a Project Manager (PM) by the name of Nigel who's ex Vertu and me as Quality Assurance (QA) manager. In theory I should just be setting up the QA department and working on overall quality improvement but the role is broadening out from that. It's unsurprising that Nigel and I both come from a mobile phone background considering that Nokia fronted the money for us. However, mobile phones are very much a minor part of the work which is actually good from my perspective as it allows me to break out of what I've been doing of late. The areas we're mostly working with are supply chain solutions, so I'm drawing in part on my old days as a technical author at Pennine.

Challenging, fun and bloody hard work so far. We covered so much ground in the first week I feel like I've been here a month already. There was a lot of information to be taken on board in this period and with that done actually implementing things begins with my QA team doing a scoping project on Monday.

For those of you with a test background let me outline what's going on... until now the company has had no real QA process. Testing consisted of the tester getting a partial release of software, running ad hoc tests and recording defects in a "log" which consists of an eight column Excel sheet. These were then bounced back to dev who fixed the bugs then return the logs back for validation and for more bugs to be appended. No test cases, no repeatability, no real plan. And given that the software is buggy and a major re-factoring program under way it's not going to be possible to write any test cases. I'm really having to pull something creative out of the ether for this one, and I'm hoping the plan I've come up with will work. I almost had a Gordon Ramsey moment in one meeting as a developer presented screen mock-ups it has to be said.

On more mundane matters , although the office is less than three km from the apartment and we're being picked up at 7:45 it's taking over half an hour to get in. I walked it quicker this morning when I went to a "Masai market" held next to the office. They take the rush hour seriously in these here parts! Also nice to work in a place with a tea lady, who comes round dropping off flasks of hot water and hot milk along with tea bags, coffee and hot chocolate. It's got a kind of 1970s feel to it.

John, the boss, took Nigel and I round Nairobi National park yesterday. Got to see zebra, baboons, various gazelles, a glimpse of a rhino, giraffes and various other game suspects. I felt that John was a little disappointed we didn't find any lions or get a decent look at a rhino. We dropped in on a swanky bar on the way back and he casually mentioned that his brother owned Hill Tops and he'd see if he could organise a weekend there for us at some point. Hill Tops is apparently where Queen Elizabeth learned of the death of her father and hence her accession to the throne. From this I assume it's quite a swanky place.

Zebra crossing

In other news I finally finished my antibiotics off on Thursday and although my gum is still sensitive I think the infection has gone. I do hope so. On the up side I can now drink again. On the down side after yesterdays beers and a couple of glasses of wine I've had a stinking hangover for much of today. Ah well, might as well enjoy, it's back to the fray tomorrow.

Teething troubles with the Kenyan job

2011-02-02T18:05:00.004Z

Part of my preparations for Kenya involved going to the dentist to make sure my teeth were OK. I knew I had a cavity that needed seeing to so got in touch a couple of weeks beforehand. Of course, the dentist couldn't actually see me for a week and then had to make another appointment to do the actual work as it transpired that the cavity had touched on the nerve pulp in the tooth which meant I needed root canal work. This was scheduled for the Wednesday before I flew but, alas, illness forced it to the Thursday morning. By Thursday evening the increasing pain in my gum made it pretty clear that I had a problem.

Come 8AM on Friday I was on the phone to the dentist and got an emergency appointment. By now the pain was raging. The dentist confirmed, with a second opinion from her colleague, that yes I had an infection and prescribed two different antibiotics including one which I could not drink alcohol with at all. When I picked up the prescription the chemist reiterated this point "No drinking with this one". OK, OK, I get the point! And pain management? Cocodamol and ibuprofen was all they could do. That pretty much wiped out my Friday which I'd pencilled in for last minute shopping and lunch with a friend. The shopping was haphazard and I wasn't exactly a sparkling conversationalist over lunch preferring to look miserable instead.
The one bright spot lay in me being so off my head on painkillers I didn't feel the pain of buying a fancy new camera, a Sony Nex5. Oooh, it's shiny and nice.

Some sleep came on Friday night courtesy of a sleeping tablet but didn't prove to be that restful or long. A constant regime of painkillers through the day saw me eventually on the train to London woozy from the amount of codeine I was on. The original plan had been for a convivial glass of wine or two, chat and food with another friend but that was torpedoed by the tooth and turned into food and me once again being sullen and little fun.

Then, on to Heathrow Terminal Three. Ah, Heathrow, what can I say? It's crap, that's what I can say. particularly if you're off your head on pain and painkillers. Unfortunately by this point my head was swimming but either the pain was getting worse or they were no longer cutting it as I was hurting really quite badly. Sitting there, waiting for my flight I was beginning to think the antibiotics weren't working. If you've ever had a root canal infection you may appreciate where I was. If you haven't, good for you. To be honest I was seriously mulling over cancelling the flight but in the end staggered on, head spinning.

The flight itself was fine and with the aid of another sleeping tablet I managed to get four hours sleep, and then, before I knew it (pain killers, remember?) we were touching down in Kenya! W00t!

John, the head of the outfit I'm working with, came to collect me from the airport. Nice chap, shame I couldn't hold a decent conversation with him which has been something of a recurring theme of late. We stopped for coffee on the way to the apartment at a place on the edge of a game park (the only game park in a capital city in the world I was told) but alas, no game to be seen. The apartment itself is nice enough, regular home from home as you can see from the pics below.

If it's good enough for the FBI it's good enough for me...

The only shame is the wifi doesn't work, so I've been getting internet withdrawal symptoms, trying to use CNN on the TV as a substitute. Didn't really help though. Even so I managed to make it through the day and went to bed at 10pm local time in order to help get my sleep cycle sorted.

Kenya

2011-01-26T17:54:00.003Z

Ah, so much to blog, so little time and intermittent internet access has delayed this one as well.

OK, when I was taking my break diving in Egypt the plan was always to punt my CV out and see if I could start to line something up for when I got back. The market did seem to be picking up and whilst talking to an agency I've used before about a job with Nokia I was asked as an aside if I fancied a similar role in Kenya. Why, let me think about this for a nano-second. Yes.

The next thing I know they've offered me the job. No interview, no job beyond a one line brief (go and set up a test department for a Kenyan mobile applications company), just did I want. Sure, why not. The money is good although the rate dropped €10 from the start to end but I'm used to similar things happening. Accommodation and flights paid for which is good.

On my return to the UK things on the personal front took a severe turn for the worst when Helen ended up in an ICU in Stoke for four days over Christmas after a massive asthma attack which had followed within a day of a car crash, which pretty much killed the festive season for me. She was eventually released the day before New Years Eve looking like death.

This post, however, is about the Kenya job. Information started trickling again after the new year as people came back from holiday, with a potential start date of the second week in January which I put back a week in order to give Helen more time to recover before I went. Oh, and also to get my head more together.

Now I've had various discussions on the matter I've got more detail. The job is working with VirtualCity in Nairobi setting up a QA department for them. VirtualCity provide mobile based software for supply chain solutions, very important in places like Africa where fixed line communications are in short supply.

Accommodation and flights come with the role. The most "amusing" aspect thing so far has been finding out that one room in the apartments I'm being put up in were used by an FBI extraordinary rendition team for interrogating someone (link [warning, PDF]).

Luxor, Aswan and Abu Simbal

2010-12-04T17:34:00.006Z

The bus journey from Dahab was a little taxing. A "local" bus with cramped seats and minimal aircon for 17 hours. I thought it was going to be a case of take a valium and sleep but the person in the seat next to me put paid to that plan by continually drooping onto my shoulder when asleep and nudging me into wakefulness. Grr. Still, made it in the end and in the process it awakened many old memories from when I went travelling in Africa many years ago...

Beginning to understand why they look like that after the bus ride

First day in Luxor I had planned to spend the afternoon in Karnak, but I was still so woozey from the journey I thought this might not be such a good idea in the blazing hot sun so I settled instead for a quick stroll round Luxor Temple, which was terribly nice. Followed that with a couple of days of wondering around various tombs (Valley of the Kings, Valley of the Queens, etc), temples (Karnak) and taking felucca rides on the Nile. All terribly civilised.

Very James Bond!

A three hour train journey took me down to Aswan, for more of the same. Temples, tombs and feluccas. Oh, and a nice early morning start to get down to Abu Simbal (did I say early morning? 2:45 AM wake up, more like the middle of the bleedin' night!).

Abu Simbal

Whilst in Aswan, sitting on a boat and watching the king fishers, in a moment of madness I started realising that the Sundaese border was only a few miles away and that a quick push could take down the Nile to Uganda in maybe three weeks. I could hop back to Cairo by plane from Kampala, pick my dive gear up and be back for Christmas. Fortunately there's only one ferry a week to Sudan (the only way I could go) and it's on the Monday, not giving me enough time to organise a visa. Maybe another time. Besides, still got plenty of diving to be done!

Dahab, Egypt. For now.

2010-11-29T12:30:00.003Z

Egypt, with a balmy winter climate and the lure of Red Sea diving, what better place to go for a few weeks at the end of a contract?

Got here a couple of days ago with the well thought out plan of, er, doing some diving and for once seeing some things above water. First part of the plan was easy enough to sort with a quick trip up to Dahab a home away from home for me. A rapidly changing home away from home mind you... a lot of the restaurants between the lighthouse and the bridge such as Al Capones have at some point in the past 18 months been turned into proper sit down places rather that the old slouch down on rag rugs with cushion covered palm trees to lean on style.

Two days of diving have followed, alas no photos yet as my camera housing is not too reliable at the moment. Hopefully get some in a couple of weeks. Diving done for now, the dive center is looking after my kit as I set off for Luxor, Aswan and other places in the deep south. Unfortunately, in order to even try to be back and diving for my birthday I need to set off now. I say unfortunately as the only practical way for me to travel is a 16 hour overnight bus journey. Of course, with a little over an hour to go my stomach seems to have turned to mush. Looks like I could be in for an "intersting" time. This Valley of the Kings malarky had better be worth it, I could be doing the Canyon and Bells to Blue Hole today.

Here I go again...

2010-11-07T19:33:00.003Z

A word on why no words for a while. I've been busy being busy for the past few months. Finding a job after my last cycle trip turned out to be somewhat more difficult than I'd hoped but I did land a contract eventually, running an outsourced test team working on a mobile music applications being delivered to a major operating company. Only possible downside was that it was in London, but even that proved to be no real hardship. Whilst the streets were disappointingly more paved with broken class than gold (worse for punctures on the bike but gold almost certainly presents a major slip hazard in the rain so about even there), there were other compensations. To start with, the weather is genuinely better in the South. London seems to a couple of weeks better off than Manchester and a couple of degrees warmer. London also has a wider range of cultural activities going on.

Alas, all good things come to an end and this job has abruptly ended on two weeks notice delivered last Friday. I had been told, and hoped, that it would go through until the end of February or early March, but I wasn't that surprised it ended early. Our client weren't the most efficient company I've ever worked for, with a tendency to disregard as unimportant such details as design documents or even org charts. I had been due to move into a room in Putney having been due to pay in over £1000 of rent at 12:30 on the Friday. I was given my notice at 12:00 so that was pretty damn good timing all things considered.

Two weeks notice and on the job market again for late November. Not the most auspicious time to be looking for work as the market tends to wind down towards Christmas. So... so, given I've had one day off since July I'm minded to organise myself a little outing when the contract ends, provided the next two weeks don't through up a job of course. I had been planning on going diving around now anyway so that would be the natural choice, except the buddy I was organising it with happened to win a free weeks diving for two when we were at the Dive show in Birmingham a few days ago. The dates it's available means we'll be going in late January (yay! I'm the plus one!) so I'll be getting some diving in soon anyway. Still, it's my birthday in a month and it'd be good to be somewhere with decent weather for it, or so I was thinking. And then I got to thinking the closer I get to Christmas the less likely of walking into a job. In which case why not take some more time off, get a flight into Aleppo, say, in Northern Syria return from Cairo (£390 for the flights with Turkish Airways) and get a month cycling in in the Middle East? Syria, Lebanon, Jordan, Egypt and maybe Israel. Very tempting, very very tempting.

Still, we shall see. I have two weeks of work and job hunting left which if unsuccessful will give me a couple of weeks to decide between a months cycling or a couple of weeks of cheap diving. Actually slightly less than a couple of weeks to be realistic as I'd have to sort out a Syrian visa which will take a few days.

As they say, watch this space.

Oi, where's me England shirt?

2010-05-28T21:56:00.005+01:00

Quite a different tack for this post but one I feel really has to be taken.

With the World Cup coming up, here in Ingerland we're going football crazy and people are once more getting ready to fly the flag, quite literally. Already I'm seeing St Georges cheeky little cross flying from vehicles as people show their colours. But wait! What's this? Yikes, look at the interwebs and you'll see that "they" are going to be banning people from wearing England football shirts! It's political correctness gone mad and we plucky little brits just won't take this lying down. That ever popular barometer of popular thought (somewhat of an oxymoron at times perhaps), the Facebook group, is positively exploding with people who want to fight back against the ban. Amongst others there's the "No To The England Football Shirt & Flag Ban" group, the "WE WILL RIOT IF THEY BAN THE ENGLAND SHIRT" posse (love the use of caps BTW, really DRIVES HOME THE POINT) and "whos up for running down spring bank in an england shirt ;-) fuck the ban haha". I'm led to believe that Spring Bank is an area of Hull with a large immigrant community.

Except it's all rubbish, there is no ban. Seems it all started this time round (we've had similar in 2002 and 2006), with a piece in The Sun about how police were seeking to ban England shirts in pubs. Except they weren't. It was just Croydon police sending a letter round local pubs with suggestions about how to minimize potential problems during the World Cup. Probably something to do with the 400 person riot there when England got eliminated from Euro 2004. So, no ban order on England shirts, just local police advice in a potential trouble hotspot. But this thing has legs now.

And as it runs there's been one recent report of a woman, Sam Fardon, being thrown off a First group bus because her two year old was wearing an England top by a bus driver with an eastern European accent. Originally reported in The Evening Sentinel, the local Stoke newspaper, it's now been taken up by The Daily Mail. Except that First has conducted an investigation and said that they didn't have anyone matching the complainants description of the dastardly bus driver on that route. Thirty people did back up the original complaint but none were found to be "credible". One witness they contacted, for example, said the incident had happened on the Monday, coincidently the paper went out while Sam Fardon had reported that it happened on the Thursday. Other bloggers have done a little digging it would appear that Sam Fardon has less than an exemplary past when it comes to theft and deception with incidents in 2002
and 2004. Of course, it may not be the same person but the lady in question is the same age and has the same name. Time no doubt will tell on this one.

So, what can be done about it? Me personally, I've spent a couple of hours trawling around other peoples excellent work on this and jotted this little missive to pass on, although as Mark Twain said "A lie can travel round the world while the truth is putting on its shoes". I've also been reporting the more overtly racist Facebook groups, which whilst it is having something of an effect is a bit of a whackamole game. Even so, maybe you might want to try it.

Talking of Facebook groups again I'll end this post on one of them, "...It's funny how our flag offends you but our benefits don't!!!..." which now boasts over half a million members. Worth checking out even though the name seems to speak of the usual semi-racist bile as people got in touch with the person that set it up and filled him in on the whole (non) story. At this point the founder was big enough to not only realise he'd been taken in and that his group was being overrun with racists but also turned over the admin rights to the group to a bunch of right thinking types who're proudly and wonderfully taking the mick even now. Best of British to them.

Getting back

2010-05-14T12:15:00.004+01:00

This post is definitely well overdue and although the temptation is just to forget it, I feel I really do need to close the door on this fantastic episode of my life.

The journey back started with a hop on an Air Asia from Saigon to Bangkok on a Sunday night. which saw me arrive in a somewhat tense city around 9 in the evening. The ongoing red shirt occupation of small parts of Bangkok had been beginning to look a little dicey with some 20 people being killed in violence on the Saturday night but I had no choice in the matter really. Besides which I'd been assured it was quite localised. When I got into the city centre I soon found a place to stay off the Ko Sahn Road, dropped my bags off and went in search of a veggie restaurant, which my guidebook assured me I could find at the end of the Ko Sahn Road. And there it was!

On the other side of the barricades.

Past the red shirted protesters.

Ah.

So, localised but at the end of the road. They were a peaceful enough bunch but it did mean the place I wanted to eat was shut. Damn. Also transpires this was where some of the people had been shot and killed the previous day. Ended up get a cheap pad thai on the street and ruminating on slightly bizarre situation of a life and death protest going on at the end of a road of backpackers partying.

So obviously my mind then turned to beer, although only as an aid to staying up late to help me adjust back to the European time zone of course. Turns out it was the eve of Songkran, the Thai new year celebration that comes at the hottest time of the year and celebrations were starting to kick off as the night wore on. Songkarn celebrations consist of soaking people with water and occasionally throwing chalk dust over them. I ended up drinking with an American chap, John, and as the night rolled into morning we threw ourselves into the fun, throwing buckets of water around and purchasing a water pistol. We also then drank buckets and I have vague recollections of zig zagging down the road trying to find my hotel at around dawn.

Next thing I knew it was 10AM and I was sprawled on the bed still drenched and fully clothed feeling as though death would be a mercy. It was after stumbling outdoors in order to find breakfast that I began to see why Songkarn can be less than amusing when the dry clothes I'd managed to pull on got soaked by a kid with a bucket of water. Dammit man, I had to catch a bloody 15 hour flight later and I was running out of dry clothes.

After breaking my fast and spending some time in my room just going "Urgh" I ventured forth again to quickly go onto the internet. The plan was to reassemble the bike and cycle into Islington when I arrived at Heathrow at 6:30 the next morning and I needed to print out the directions. I found an air con internet round the corner, managing to duck the water on the way. As I sat and browsed away I got a message through from Rob.

For those of you who haven't been following this blog too closely I first came across Rob when he was cycling a day ahead of me through Europe, then teamed up with him in Istanbul to cycle along some of the Black Sea coast in Turkey. I then bumped into him briefly again in Goa. So, of course, where was he now? Bangkok, of course. In the same hotel as I was staying... We met up for lunch, after which I just had time to get myself vaguely together and get to the airport. I'll wrap this up with a picture of Rob and I taking lunch.

Vietnam. It's country not a war

2010-04-29T08:45:00.007+01:00

As I mentioned in the last post, the route into Vietnam involved one last stretch of dirt road to get the border crossing. Not what one might expect of the approach to an international border but then again after years of war Cambodia is still very much a developing country.

Good morning Vietnam

As soon as I crossed over the border I was back on sealed road and in just the same way as I'd really noticed the change going into Cambodia so I really noticed leaving it. The roads improved, traffic levels went up as did the prices of hotels as I found out at my first stop was Ha Tien. One of my first things to get done was to get hold of some local currency as the US dollar is not a de facto second currency as it is in Cambodia. I'd changed US$20 at the border at a rate of 17,000 dong to the dollar (don't snigger) and then got another million out at an ATM... after the power came back on that is. The Rough Guide (I've had enough of the Lonely Planet but that's another post), published in late 2009, indicated that the going rate was 17,000 to the US$ and D25,000 to the pound.

Ha Tien was a pleasant enough place to explore for the afternoon and have my first experience of Vietnamese coffee which is taken somewhat like espresso, small and strong. It's often taken long over ice, making for a refreshing drink on hot days. I also found a good veggie place to eat quite easily, which served up a mix of dishes for the princely sum of D7000. Handy hint here, if you're ever in Vietnam look for "Chay" on the signs, which are food outlets that will serve exclusively vegetarian food.

The next day saw me heading through the north of the Mekong Delta region towards Long Xuyen. There were some potentially interesting side trips from my route but having no proper map aside from a Google Maps print out and an estimated 160km day I decided it was probably best just to push on. Turns out the Google estimate was out by a good 30 km in the end which should be no surprise really.

Freshly made incense sticks drying in the sun

From Long Xuyen it was off to Vinh Long. Vinh Long proved to be a pleasant little town where I managed to pick up a map and check the exchange rate. D30,000 to the pound! Always good to find that things are a sixth cheaper than you thought. Thanks to my new map the next day I found some back roads through some stunning fruit growing countryside. Lychees, rambutans and mangos, amongst others, were ripening away by the sides of the road amongst the rice paddies. The whole region probably conforms to a stereotypical view of Vietnam as a country of people in conical hats and pyjamas toiling in fields against a tropical backdrop while travel involves plenty of bridges and ferries.

Did I mention the fresh honey as well?

My last stop before Ho Chi Minh City (nee Saigon) was the town of Ben Tre, where during the 1968 Tet offensive a US major famously declared "It became necessary to destroy the town in order to save it". Today it's a pleasant enough place from which to explore more of the Mekong Delta.

Victory over the US Navy statue in Ben Tre

From Ben Tre my final cycle was along Highway One into Saigon. If you've been to Saigon or Hanoi you might see why the prospect of cycling into it didn't fill me with joy. In the end though I was pleasantly surprised. Whilst people didn't actually treat me differently from other traffic it was quite survivable.

Now this is going to be fun to cycle over! The last major bridge I had to cross in the Mekong Delta

I had a couple of days in Saigon, time I'd given myself in order to prepare the bike for travel, a task proved to be remarkably easy. Well, I say remarkably easy. Finding a box was easy but actually getting the bike in ended up proving an interesting 3D puzzle and disassembly job. The prospect of rebuilding it in Heathrow at 7AM after an overnight flight was beginning to sound a bit daunting.

Kamot to Sihnoukville and back

2010-04-03T11:39:00.006+01:00

First of all a hint to any other cyclists reading this. After many months of experimenting in the best way to carry bananas I finally found pretty much the ideal method. You see, bananas, although an ideal energy food, bruise far too easily whilst if you keep them in a plastic bag will ripen so fast that a bunch bought at the start of the day will be pitch black by evening. Which is a shame as I find that people want to sell me a kilo or more at a time. In smaller places in Cambodia, however, plastic bags are mercifully not a regular fixture of life so I've been sold my daily fix of 'nanas with a twine loop through them. And of course this means I can just drop them on the end of my handle bars, keeping them fresh and allowing me to pick one off whenever I need one. So simple, why didn't I see it earlier?

From Kampot the next destination was Sihanoukville. Other people had almost put me off going there, telling me it was a crime hotspot with many motorbike based snatch and runs and the destination itself, when not being over run with scooter based bandidos, full of drunken and stoned gap year travellers. However, it was a good place to pick up the Vietnamese visa I needed as well as the only place to go diving in Cambodia. Which settled it.

The road to Sihanoukville was a lovely ride after the dusty dry flat roads in the rest of the country. It snaked down the coast in the shadow of the Elephant Mountains, which soared up some 1000 meters high with the tops being wreathed in clouds. Tiny fishing villages floated by and the smell of the sea was ever present.

Drying shrimps on the road to Sihanoukville

I was a few kilometers from Sihanoukville when I became the victim of crime. A motorbike whizzed by me and I felt a jerk of the handlebars as a voice said "Hellomisterwhatisyourname" followed by an evil laugh. I watched open mouthed as the pillion passenger (wearing a Man U shirt I might add) triumphantly held up my bunch of bananas for the day! Alas, my cries of "Stop, thief" were to no avail and I was forced to laugh long and hard.

Sihoukville. Hmmm. Yes, the reports were right. I got a days diving in and it was OK but nothing special and somewhat over priced. And in the evening the place was full of young backpackers partying way to hard. I found an older Aussie chap to have a drink with and decided that instead of staying in the place two days I'd cut and run the next, giving an extra day in the Mekong Delta in Vietnam.

How we used to play before computers. Kids playing marbles in Kampot.

Back down the road to Kampot the next day it was somewhat hampered by a headwind and a hangover. I was glad to get back to simpler, quieter, pleasures though. I spent the evening there and the next day pushed on through to Vietnam, down one last unsealed road full of red dust.

Battambang to Kampot

2010-04-03T11:03:00.008+01:00

After Battambang it was time to press onwards towards the capital of Cambodia, Phnom Penh. Although it's only 290km, which should be a couple of days cycling, lack of suitable stopping points meant I spent three days instead. That was OK, gave me a chance to poke around some of the smaller places in Cambodia, which is something I quite like doing, hitting places off the tourist trail. Wasn't all plain sailing though, on the second day of the leg the temperature dropped to 19C and it rained for three hours. Still, the ducks enjoyed it and I figured it was good training for blighty.

I just spent one day in Phnom Penh relaxing, took in the National Museum then lost and subsequently found the memory stick for my camera. Yes, that heart stopping half hour kind of meant my plans for the day went out of the window. After Phnom Penh it was south on National Highway 2 (NH2) to the town of Takeo. Now this was a revision of my first plan which was to head 150km down NH4 to the village of Sre Ambel, overnight there then press on to Sihnoukville. I just wasn't sure that there would be somewhere to stay in Sre Ambel and at 150 sometimes hilly kilometers I wouldn't have much time to get anywhere else.

Plenty of pottery made in the area and sold by these mobile ceramics merchants

Takeo proved to be a very pleasant little town. Not much to see or do as a tourist though there were some sights out of town, it was just one of those small towns where people get on with their lives. After Takeo, next stop was to change to NH3 and head a quick 90km to Kampot. That should be a mornings cycling leaving me an afternoon free to explore. But ah, NH3... It's currently being regraded so they've ripped the road surface up. And then left it. 78 kilometers and I saw two sets of people working. Bloody hard kilometers they were as well, either gravel or potholed earth, always in a cloud of dust.

One of the better sections of NH3 that I dared to get my camera out on.

Only 50 more kilometers to go!

It didn't feel like it would ever end but in the end I made it to Kampot, famed for it's pepper. When I made it though I did my own little version of Ice Cold In Alex. It's a lovely quiet town with some stunning views across it's river, a nice selection of hotels and some good eating options. It's not always easy being veggie in Cambodia so that last one is always a bonus. Oh, and lots of pepper. I've picked up 1/2 a kilo of that.

Sunset over the river

Battambang

2010-03-29T10:15:00.006+01:00

First stop in Cambodia was the city of Battambang where I spent a day sight seeing on the back of a motorbike. This meant being whisked off to a couple of hill top temples, one dating back to the 11th Century AD, going for a ride on a bamboo train and a visit to the old Pepsi bottling plant abdandoned when schhh, you know who came to town (no, not Coca Cola. Or Schweppes). Oh, and a close encounter with a Khmer rouge.

Wat Bayan, an Angkor period temple

Civil war hill top temple addition

The kind of Khmer rouge I like. Rough round the edges but basically benign.

On the bamboo train.
These are lightweight carts made of bamboo slats on a wooden frame that sit on two freewheeling boggies, the whole lot being driven by a 6HP engine. When you meet another bamboo train coming the other way the lightest train is dismantled to make way for the heavier train which takes about two minutes. If you have a motorbike on your cart that's a trump card. Sadly these will soon be gone when the train line is upgraded.

Entering Cambodia

2010-03-28T09:24:00.008+01:00

After I left Ayutthaya it took a couple of days to get to the town of Aranya Prathet on the Thai border. On the run into Aranya I had a great tail wind with an early start to the day so I was beginning to think about carrying on over the border that day and heading for the Cambodian town of Sisophon. This would have seen me do a metric double century (over 200kms in one day) for the first time. As it was though I had problems with my expensive XR "expedition" tyres (which cost 45 pounds a pop) blowing out again. Put paid to my 200km day and to be honest it was probably just as well, that kind of thing makes walking afterwards difficult. As for the tyres I'm beginning to suspect that they just can't handle heat, something of a drawback for an expensive product marketed at people cycling in rough overland terrain given that most routes tend to be through hot countries. Luckily I found a shop in Aranya and got a cheap "Made In Thailand" replacement that has held up perfectly well so far.

Poipet, Cambodia

All this palaver meant that it was the next morning when I went for the border crossing. Now, I had one or two reservations about this particular border post as it has a reputation for various schemes and scams. It seems, however, that going through on a bike one can just float past various tricksters offering false visa services and once through the "taxi mafia" are a worry only for people without their own wheels. Through for US$20 in thirty minutes without needing to use the "special express service" offered by the Cambodian immigration police. Result.

A roadside warning poster. Avoid biker gang parties?

Many of the borders I've been through seem to be just lines, with places only changing slowly over time. Through Europe and down into Asia most of the time whilst you can easily tell you're in another country the changes are quite gradual. Different languages and food, yes, but not the complete step change you get going from Thailand to Cambodia. Thailand is quite a developed modern South East Asian country. Cambodia is most definitely a "Third World"country (although the preferred term nowadays is Less Developed Country or LDC).

One immediate change was no more lovely cold water from the fridge in garages, now it's lukewarm water from a roadside cool box that even though it's bottled I have to hope is OK to drink. Ice cream outside of a big city? Forget it. Road rules are out the window as well, if you have money you drive how you want and don't worry about little things like number plates. Worst drivers I've seen so far, which given medical services here is really really worrying.

But what does one do with ones jewel encrusted pistol?

Please don't think I'm complaining, I'm just trying to give a flavour of what it's like here. The people are truly wonderful, some of the most beautiful smiles in the world and wherever I cycle I'm greeted by a constant chorus of children voices shouting "hello's" from the roadside and waving arms. At one point I cycle through a village and ended up almost spinning round with so many effusive greetings, leaving both me and the adults laughing out loud.

Templed out in Ayutthaya

2010-03-21T10:17:00.004Z

Stopped off in Ayutthaya, the ancient capital of Thailand, for a day of sightseeing. First came here in 1999 and I must say it's developed a bit more for tourism from what I can remember. Still full of incredible ruins though.

Having said that, it took me all of two hours to get templed out here. Seriously. I'm beginning to think it may be a permanent condition. I was taking a photo of a line of Buddha statues and suddenly it just wasn't worth it. I'd taken similar in India a few weeks ago, and again in Sri Lanka some years ago. As for the ruins, well, nice but after Angkor Wat the whole Khmer style is kind of done.

Although the old Buddha head in the tree roots is pretty damn cool no matter how jaded you are!

Bridge over the river Kwai

2010-03-19T07:30:00.003Z

# Da-da da da da dah dahhh...

So, after a few days cycling time for a break in Kanchanburi, a town in central Thaialnd made famous by the book Bridge Over the River Kwai which was then turned into a film. I hardly need remind you about this film, unless you're American in which case forget about it.

Kanchanburi is a nice place to spend a couple of days, got a little backpacker ghetto which means it's not difficult to find a cheap room (150 baht, about 3 pounds, with swimming pool) and plenty to see and do. The main attraction, as already mentioned is the bridge over the Kwai constructed by the Japanese in WWII using PoW and local labour. Also called the "death railway" as many of the workforce died during it's construction from a combination of malnutrition, over work, lack of medication and just plain brutality. There are some sobering museums here chronicling these events.

The bridge in Kanchanburi itself isn't that exciting, unless you suffer from vertigo, so I'd intended to bike it up to Hellfire Pass today to see the sections cut through jungle and mountains but in the end decided that 80 km there, a four hour walk then 80 km back was probably pushing it in 40c heat being twelve hours of physical effort. Now, think on this, I'm healthy, well fed and watered. People who were working up in Hellfire pass had been doing so on less than 1600 calories a day for weeks or months, working up to twenty hours a day during the "speedo" period.

Of the 60,000 PoWs who worked on the railway around 16,000 remain in a number of cemeteries in the area, just one of which is above. Of the 180,000 Asians who worked on it 90,000 died although they don't seem to warrant a cemetery.

Chumphon to Kanchanburi

2010-03-18T12:05:00.005Z

When I last posted I mentioned the cyclists I'd been meeting of late, almost all of whom had been going the other way. Well, when I reached Chumphon I did meet one chap heading northwards but as I there to head out to Koh Tao for a couple of days diving I didn't think of teaming up at first. Then on reflection I decided that I'd rather get more cycling in than go diving and we did indeed join together for a few days.

So, Dillon is the fellows name, an American from Minnesota touring SE Asia by bike for a few months. As ever when there's another cyclist there we made good time on the road. Well, when we were on the road. Dillon had a couple of punctures, a bee stung his lower eyelid allowing me to use my Swiss Amry Penknife to remove the barbed sting (OK, OK, it was only the tweezers). Oh and I got a stick in my rear wheel. All on the first day. Still, as I say, we made good time when we cycled.

Also managed to find some nice beachside places to stop off in for the first couple of days. Nothing quite like a dip in the sea after a long days cycle and puncture repairing (yep, the punctures continued for a second day).

Another nice seaside halt and then we were looking at what we'd do the next day. Dillon was heading to Bangkok whilst I'm planning to skirt round it for now. We'd ended the day in a place by the name of Prachuap Khiri Khan, a pleasant little seaside resort, so we were looking maybe hitting Hua Hin or Cha Am the next day. Hua Hin is around 100 Km away, Cha Am 130 km or so. Plan was to reach Hua Hin then decide. However the wind was suddenly with us! From days of sapping headwinds suddenly we caught a beauty of a tailwind and sailed past both of these places to end up in Phetchaburi, a not too touristy place of wats and old teak buildings, some 162 km from where we'd set out. And we covered that in six hours fifteen minutes of actual cycling time. w00t as I believe the youth of yesteryear used to say.

This, however, meant that our ways parted a day sooner than expected although we still had 35km to go before they did. And we'd have done it if Dillon hadn't had an accident in a Thai bar involving a bottle of whisky. As it was I set out on my own and had another long day, this time with mixed wind and a torrential downpour on the way. Luckily there was a cowboy bar (of course) for me to shelter in for half an hour.

I leave you a shot of what happens when bees attack. Dillon, great cycling with you man!

Fellow travellers

2010-03-13T02:58:00.006Z

Heading northwards up Thailand and for the first time in months I'm starting to meet fellow cycle tourists again! In fact, I'm meeting them at a rate of more than one a day. Interestingly, for almost all of them I'm the first cyclist they've met in days, but then it does seem that the flow of traffic is heading south. Hmm. Wonder if there's a reason for that?

Anyway, a few pics are in order. First up, Tim, a Brit. He's cycling pretty much the reverse of my route. Met him on the road between Krabi and Khao Lak.

Next day I met Silvia, an American lady on a recumbent bike named Myrtle the Turtle, on the road north of Khao Lak.

Later that same day an English couple, Jan and John, ended up staying in my guest house in Kura Buri. They lived in Wigan and by golly, John had the accent! They must have been in their 60s but they were still out there cycling. Probably a good job they met me, as when we had a quick chat I discovered that their visas ran out in two days time, which was news to them! Luckily they were heading to Ranong the next day, as was I, which is a place to do a visa run over to Burma and back. I went to sleep hearing Jan explain to John why this was a good idea (the 500 baht a day fine for visa overstays for example) and John in broad Wigan accent not really getting it. No pics unfortunately.

The next day, yesterday, brought a bumper crop! First was some chaps cycling with a local outfit and support van. They kindly gave me ice cold water and shared their snacks with me.

Then a few minutes later I bumped into a couple of English gap year students who'd been making their way round the world mostly by bike. Er, thingy and Fin. Turns out I'd missed meeting them in Agra when I met a cyclist there: he was changing money whilst they were in their guest house. Small world.

And lastly I've met an American by the name of Dillon who's cycling the same way as me for a few days. No photos as yet but we are hooking up for the next 500km or so of cycling. Hopefully.

RIP Bill's sunglasses.

2010-03-06T08:01:00.005Z

A separate blog entry to mourn my sunglasses going on to a better place. Well, I say a better place, I dunno, they went missing on a rainy evening in Trang. I'd had them for, what, six or seven years, a pair of prescription Oakleys. Sure, the insurance should cover the cost but that's not the point. It's like losing an old friend. And I'm left squinting to boot.

This picture above is the last one I have of them, taken on the very day then went. RIP old buddies.

Penang to Ko Lanta: a post on water and bonking

2010-03-06T07:07:00.008Z

After picking up my Thai visa it was time to saddle up and head north. First a gentle ride up to Alor Setar, a nice enough little place, made even nicer by being in mango growing land in the middle of mango season. Yum!

Then twas just a half days ride to the border and another half day to Hat Yai in Thailand. I say "just a half days" but added together it made for a one bloody long day and the weather hadn't got any less hot. However, I did feel like I was acclimatising, which was just as well as I was starting to cover longer distances again.

Didn't take long from crossing the border to realise I was in Thailand.

From Hat Yai it was another long days cycling, some 150km, up to the town of Trang. I mentioned the heat once or twice before, didn't I? I'm sure did. Well, it's OK provided I eat and set off early and can drink enough liquids to keep going. It's the second one I'm going to mention now, the need to keep even vaguely hydrated. I was in the saddle for some seven hours for the day, and I have to admit I did loose track of exactly how much I was drinking. However, I can say it was around 1.5 liters an hour and even so my urine was the day-glo colour of a full on raver under UV lights. 1.5 liters an hour, or thereabouts. You know what that is? That's slightly under a pint every twenty minutes. For seven hours. Plus stops.
I have learned some things now though... when I stop for more water I down a bottle of fizzy drink, and I stop for water often as now matter how cold it is, it's hot within half an hour making it less than palatable. Every couple of hours I'm making up a bottle of hydration solution to keep up with salt loss. Oh, and you know the advice never drink the local ice? Well **** that, whenever they have it when I stop I make sure my water bottles are packed with full of it! Seriously, makes for drinkable water for almost 45 minutes!

Which all meant my long day involved lots of liquid and still I was parched. Then at the 120km mark came the hill stage. Fantastic scenery but bloody hell it was hard work pushing it over a series of undulating hills.

Interesting to see Trang again, I'd passed through back in 1999 and was surprised to still vaguely recognise it. However, I did have one of my darkest moments of the trip so far there, for which I'll be posting a separate entry later

Finally from Trang some 130km to make on the last day to Ko Lanta. Oh boy, now that was a days cycling. I've trying to deal with the liquid intake but I fear I've not been eating that much due to the heat during the day Started late so missed the cooler part of the day. After a couple of hours though I got started to get bonked. Sounds good, no? No. For a cyclist this is not a happy thing, it's what marathon runners call "hitting the wall". You basically run out of glycogen, blood sugar. It's unpleasant. I went for the usual remedy, one of precious stocks of museli bars, a bag of dried raisins, a bottle of coke and peanuts. Didn't really work this time and I spent the next four hours almost literally limping to Ko Lanta, stopping whenever I felt I needed it and not making it off of the ferry until late in the day.

Ah, Ko Lanta. Helen and I were here back in 1999 when it was a lovely little place. Bloody hell though, it's changed! Still, I found the place we'd stayed at (well, the next door place, apparently the other place burnt down four years ago), checked in, grabbed a beer and watched the sunset above. The Sanctuary is still that, but even so I can't help but marvel at the wisdom of Don Henley when he sang "Don't go back you can never go back...". The bit about the Dead head sticker on the Cadillac I can almost relate to, although I'm still waiting to see a Hawkwind sticker on a Jag.

Kuala Lumpur to Penang

2010-02-28T08:33:00.004Z

As I said in my previous post, I ended up spending four days in Kuala Lumpur. It's a nice enough place but I'm not sure it merits that much. Still, as the Chinese New Year Celebrations were still going on there was plenty to gawp at.

After a evenings drinking with Dave, I was more than ready to go (no reflection on you Dave!), hangover and dodgy tummy be damned. I say ready to go, I mean pretty certain I wouldn't expire on the road but not 100% certain as the first days cycling wore on. This wasn't just because it was my first time on the bike for a month and half. No, the main reason was it was hot and humid, with my thermometer read 41C and the humidity was apparently around 80%. Yowser.

The cycling started well, with KL proving to be an OK city to get out of and on Highway 1 north. To my shame I stopped at a Tesco's on the way to pick up a baguette and some cheese for lunch, although in the end the weather proved to be too hot for eating in. I slogged on constantly having to replenish my liquids. Water that was in a bottle for an hour was just about hot enough to make a cup of tea with. I made it to the town of Tanjong Malim, which although only some 80km north was good enough for me. Found the first hotel, checked in and flopped out in air con comfort! Always a bad sign when you speak to the locals and they complain about the weather.

Next day it proved to be more of the same, although setting off earlier let me get a couple of hours of easy cycling before it got too hot. Reckon the humidity had dropped a bit as well. The scenery was quite stunning in places, lots of limestone formations and jungle.

Still, an arduous day, this time around 130km. By the time I got to my destination, Ipoh, I was finding I couldn't actually drink any more, even though I was dehydrated. Slammed down some re-hydration solution which helped somewhat and resolved to take more breaks in future. Next day it was on to Taiping, a nice little place. It promised to rain for much of the time but unfortunately never did.

The next day, last day of cycling I tried to continue to adapt. Start early. It being too hot to eat during the day, have a big breakfast (noodles, soup, tofu, veggies with chili sauce, breakfast of champions!. Plenty of breaks. Worked well to start with but again by time I arrived in Penang I was a wreck. Maybe not as much of a wreck as I'd been previously though...

The plan was to spend a day in Georgetown on Penang Island then head north towards Thailand. However, as I cycled into the backpacker district from the ferry terminal I noticed quite a few signs up advertising a Thai visa service. Thai visa service did you say? Why would I need that? After all, I can get a 30 day visa on arrival, no? Ah. No. It would appear not, only a 15 day visa exemption if I travel by land. Bugger. And Friday, when I arrived, was a public holiday, so I'm waiting until Monday to get my visa. Still, Penang is a great place to stop and my hostel has a house band that plays every night. Shame about the beer though, it's damaging my wallet!

David Banks I presume?

2010-02-25T10:37:00.002Z

I arrived in Kuala Lumpur quite tired from the days travelling from India. Not because it was particularly arduous more only getting a couple of hours sleep. Ah well. All I had to do was get my over boxed bike from the airport to the city. Taxi! What, £40? F...orget about that! Stuffed it onto a bus for £1.60 instead and humped it to a local taxi rank. Well, started to then remembered that Malaysia is pretty down on things like that and decided to carry it instead.

The plan was to spend a day and half in KL then head northwards but unfortunately a dodgy stomach intervened, turning this into a four day wait. I used the time to apply for a couple of jobs and organise various things. On the last evening, I got an email from an old colleague, Dave Morten, who I'd asked for a LinkedIn recommendation. In my previous email I'd mentioned that I couldn't get in touch with my old manager, Dave Banks, which was a shame. Oh, and that I was in KL. In the email Dave M passed on a contact number for Banksie who is now in KL teaching English... :o

Forty minutes later we were meeting for beers and catching up. Great fun! At the same bar was another guy I noticed, from years back in Stafford. Damned if I could put a name to him at the time. Asked him if he was from Stafford, and he said yes, then I named the people I knew he knew. Nope to all of them. His name came back to me later, I'm sure it was Aiden. Make of that what you will.

Anyway, here's to old friends, may we continue to bump into them randomly! Although hopefully somewhere with cheaper beer than Malaysia...

Finishing off India

2010-02-19T05:35:00.005Z

After returning from the Andaman Islands I've spent the last three weeks with Helen in Southern India. She flew into Trivandrum and acclimatised at Varkala beach. She also brought news that a couple of Friends were in Goa, so we trained it some 1000km up there to go see them. Treated Helen to a AC1 sleeping berth (Air Conditioned First Class) which was quite nice. Can't quite see where all the extra money goes and Helen's asthma was aggravated by the smell of the cleaning but still, all in all a nice way to travel.

There then followed a whole lot of nothing in Arambol in the north of Goa. Nice place, easy to while away the time although it's not very Indian. Well, OK, aside from the tummy bugs and cows on the beach I mean! We had intended to head up to Hampi but a combination of apathy and Indian transport served to confound us. In the end it was hard enough to get a train back down to Kerala! I did enjoy my interlude in Goa though. Interesting mix, fairly well summed up in the graffiti below.

Then it was just a matter of getting ready to fly over to Malaysia. I say "just a matter" but I got the heebie jeebies real bad over this, and all over getting the bike boxed. I was mostly worried that if the airline told me the packaging wasn't OK I was the very edge of my visa. Got it packed by a parcel packing place and as it turned out the airline were only to eager for the chance to take it and charge me extra for the privilege! Ah yes, money money money.

That brings an end to my travels in India (for now) but it may mean much more frequent blogs now I'm back on the bike again! We'll see on that front, I broke my phone a few days ago so I can't blog straight from that, although hopefully internet cafes will be easy to find.

Andamans

2010-01-30T14:43:00.005Z

Long time no update! Getting to Goa saw the end of cycling for a little while as I first went to visit the Andaman Islands for a spot of diving and now I'm hooking up with Helen for three weeks of non bike related holiday in Kerala and southern India. Now, the Andamans were a great break, a wonderful place with turquoise water and white sand beaches, as you can see below. And you can still get a bamboo hut for a couple of quid a night. Nice.

Getting to the Andaman Islands involved first getting to Thiruvananthapuram, which I and many other people, are still calling by it's old name of Trivandrum. You can't but help wonder why. First I had to get to Madgaon railway station, and put the bike on a train to Trivandrum. Not as easy as it might sound. I got there with plenty of time to spare which proved to be just as well... I asked about the bike and was told to report to the luggage department which I duly did. They then explained that as the train did not originate in their station they couldn't guarantee that it would be on the same train as me but I wasn't to worry as if it wasn't then they'd put it on the next direct train. The day after next. By which time I'd be on my to the Andamans. Damn. So, what would happen in that case? Well, the luggage office in Trivandrum would hold it for 10 rupees a day. Hopefully. Oh=kay... After that it was just a case of filling forms out in triplicate, writing all over the bike and waiting for the train. As the time drew near I couldn't but help stop my bike on the wrong platform unguarded and unlocked. Still, it made it, as did I.

I left the bike in a hotel there, then caught another overnight train to Chennai the next evening, as my flight to the islands departed at 4:45 AM. Simple, no?

Plan was to have a beer about 6pm, eat a carb rich meal, have one more beer then get to sleep for around 9pm ready for the early morning flight. Of course it didn't quite work out like that and after meeting some French one beer turned into, er, many. The bar shut at 11, and I think I may have pissed off the hotel staff by getting some take outs and trying to carry on the party ("They can't go up, they're not staying here." "They're my frensss!!!"). Just as well in retrospect. I eventually hit the sack past midnight and thus got one and half hours sleep. An extra half hour of that was because my alarm call never came (wonder why?). Still, in the taxi with my half hour buffer only half gone and away, stinking of booze! Ten minutes later it dawned on me that I hadn't got my phone. Ah. Back! Back to hotel with all speed! Grabbed the phone and offered the driver an extra 200 rupees if he could make the airport in 30 minutes. Which he duly did.

And then... two weeks of relaxing and diving. Quality hammock time was had.

Last days on the Indian mainland for now

2010-01-09T08:46:00.005Z

My final bit of cycling for a few weeks consisted of tootling down the Konkan coast and into Goa. The scenery continued to be sublimely beautiful, as the picture of the temple on the river below might show, and I've been sad to think I won't make it all the way down the peninsula although I don't want to miss the chance to get to the Andamans. Life is full of tough choices and this was genuinely tough.

Before I got to Goa I stopped off for a couple of days at a local resort, Malvan. This was to stop me turning up in Goa in high season, and to give my legs a rest after eight straight days of cycling. Nice place anyway, still a jobbing fishing port of the non-super trawler variety so great to watch the catch being unloaded and sold on the beach in the evenings.

After Malvan it was a short hop down to Goa. Well, the map said it would be a short hop, but the map was wrong. Again. So it proved to be a full day on the bike to get to Arumbal in the very north. Nice enough place but odd to see some many non-Indians about! At least the ones on motorbikes (about 50% of them) have managed to pick up local customs. Use your horn all the time, weave about erratically and drive like a ****. The main road down to the beach is apparently jocularly referred to as "Glastonbury Street" and it does feel and look very much like the Glasto markets! My advice here would be not to get drunk then decide you need some new threads after seven months on the road. Seriously.

And with nothing more than an overnight halt there it was on the overnight train to Kerala, which seems to be a lovely place, clean and full of friendly people. Apparently it's got a 91% literacy rate and average life expectancy of 73, some ten years higher than the rest of India. Oh, and a communist government. Yes, these facts are connected. Alas, just one day there for now (back again in a couple of weeks), not even pausing for an ice cream. I don't know why, they just didn't sell it to me... maybe the downside of communism.

I took one more sleeper train last night up to Chennai, as I catch a flight here at 4:45 AM to the Andamans for a spot of diving. Now Chennai was the first ever place I visited in India, on a work trip a couple of years ago and I formed the opinion at the time that it was a bit of dump. Was this just because it was my first visit here? Would I see things differently after having been in India two months? No. It really is a dump.

Happy new year!

2009-12-31T12:23:00.004Z

Currently in Konkan, the coastal region of the Indian state of Maharashtra. Had an interesting time of late. Just before Christmas I started getting bad pains in my left knee, which meant I had to stay put and let it heal for a bit. In the end I adjusted my saddle height (I believe it had slipped downwards) and that seems to have ended the matter. All this palaver though has meant that I haven't quite hit the coast for New Years Eve, which is a shame. Still, no hurry, there's always next year!

The last few days of cycling have been fantastic even though the distances on my map have been consistently and annoyingly wrong. Dropping down the Western Ghats, above, then along insanely beautiful river valleys. Hope this keeps up!

Ajanta and Ellora

2009-12-24T13:01:00.008Z

In my journey southwards I detoured slightly to go to two places, Ajanta and Ellora in order to visit some cave temples, both of them being UNESCO world heritage sights.

Ajanta has a collection of Buddhist cave temples dating from the 2nd Century BC to the 6th Century AD. Put in 60km to get there then checked into a hotel, left the bike there and went round the caves. Very much worth it, some wonderful carvings and paintings even though it was overrun with school children.

And the location... alll set in a river bend, they were rediscovered in 1819 by a British hunting party. Without a wide angle lens this is the best I can do.

Next day it was on the bike again and off to Aurangabad, a base for visiting the next set of caves at Ellora. Bit of a push making it uphill and by the end of the day my legs were aching more than usual, possibly also due to the amount of walking up and down steps all day at Ajanta after cycling in the morning.

Ellora is shut on a Tuesday so I had a rest day in Aurangabad. Nice enough for a single day. Next day I headed off on bicycle to cycle the 30km to Ajanta and then discovered I had a problem when I hit some hills. My left knee was get increasingly painful and I've a nasty feeling I've either sprained some muscle or, worse, torn it. Still, if Ajanta was worth the trip then Ellora even more so! A collection of Buddhist, Hindu and Jain temples from the 4th century AD to the 11th century. This picture is off one of the Buddhist temples.

The highlight was the Kailash, a massive rock hewn temple, shown from above, below (if that makes any sense). Apparently they removed some 200,000 tons of rock during it construction, carving it down from the top in one piece. Wow. My pcitures, as ever, just do not do it justice. One thing I learned here is that bat urine smells remarkably like bovril. Make of that what you will.

Currently still in Aurangabad and contemplating my next move. I had been planning to be on the bike today but I really don't want to push my knee, so I'll decide what I'm doing tomorrow, Christmas day, after resting today. If it's still bad then on the 26th I'll put the bike on a bus and head down to the coast in order to recuperate there.

Seasons greetings to one and all!

Agar to Omkareshaw

2009-12-22T10:32:00.001Z

Heading ever southwards from the little town of Agar, the city of Ujjain was my next stop. This entailed a half days cycling followed by a half days temple seeing there.

I must say, as I meandered about the Hindu temple there I had something of a religious revelation. I really am a complete atheist... (seriously, this came to me as I went round the temple). From Ujjain it was south to Indore and beyond. First I had to get to and through Indore. Set off nice and early but I was soon fuming at the traffic, having been forced off the road a couple of times. I'd just come to conclusion that Indian drivers would be at home behind the wheel of a BMW in the UK when I saw a body rolling down the road! Oh no, some sort of accident, time to put the first aid skills to use! Ah... on closer inspection the chap was actually a rolling sadhu, with the truck drivers stopping to give money to his support wagon. The things you see from a bicycle!

After that my bad attitude to the traffic cleared although I needed the help of these gentlemen to navigate my way through Indore itself. After getting me a chai and some ciggies they then commandeered the chap on the left to guide me behind his motorbike through the traffic and onto the road to Omkareshaw. If you want to know the way ask a policeman!

Bundi southwards: back on the bike again!

2009-12-19T12:03:00.008Z

After getting back to Bundi I was about ready to get on the road again, although not without a few reservations... the traffic here is the worst I've seen in the world so far. Still, time, tide and buttered eggs wait for no man and off it had to be. Still not wanting to camp out in India it looked like I might have to make a few long hops but that's OK, my legs are pretty strong by now.

First destination was a place by the name of Jalewhr where I stopped for a day to go and see a marvellous fort in the middle of nowhere and some 10th and 12th century temples. This was off both the National Highway and the tourist track. And it was great! The road, a State Highway, was quiet but well enough maintained, the village s I went through clean and peaceful and the people I met were above all friendly. Ended up spending my day of sight seeing wearing a garland of flowers some chap gave me for good luck. As ever, it was time to get my photo taken with the local kids.

After that it time to carry on down the road southwards. Looking at the map it seemed I'd have to make it to Ujjain to find the next hotel, some 175 km. OK, so up at 6:40 and on the road by 7:30 it was. About 110 miles, hard work but not impossible by any stretch of the imagination, given a good road and fair wind. The road turned into a pot holed nightmare for the first 10 km, making me think that maybe I'd be using the tent for the first time in India. Luckily it smoothed out after that and led through some wonderful fields redolent with the smell of mustard flowers and coriander. Easy to smell them as well as a raging headwind blew up. Damn. Stopped for a sugary drink and had a chat with the people at the dahba... they told me there was a hotel in the town of Agar, meaning I only had to do some 120km that day. Deep joy, as you can probably tell from this shot of my 3 pound hotel room. Ah well, it was a bed and a flickery TV screen for the night!

Birthday in Diu

2009-12-11T12:10:00.006Z

Took a break from the cycling to head down to the ex-Portuguese colony of Diu in Gujarat. This meant a full days travel to get there but it let me use the much vaunted Indian rail system for the first time, sampling the food and laughing in a condescending fashion at foreign names that sound faintly rude in English. Great fun.

Diu is a nice enough little place and has, or so I've been told, the cheapest beer in India which made it ideal for a birthday. Even found a half decent bottle of Indian red wine and some processed cheese slices. My cup overflowthed, but that's what having your first drink in a while leads to. Having said all that, my second attack of travellers diarrhea in a month put paid to any boozing immediately after my birthday. Shouldn't have done any on the day itself but I persevered with the power of Imodium, and a handy course of of antibiotics to start on the day after. Sigh.

Spent the rest of the time there chilling and reading, lying on beaches and taking poor qulaity photos before bussing and training back to Bundi top collect the bike again.

Jaipor to Bundi via Tonk

2009-11-30T06:09:00.005Z

On the road again, this time getting out of Jaipor and heading for a quieter place by the name of Bundi, planing to stop at Tonk on the first night, just for the name really! Tonk. You've got to really, haven't you?

To get there we followed another national highway but what a difference from the previous ones! No hard shoulder, just one lane either way and suddenly the caste system in force on Indian roads was very much in our faces. Literally. I lost count of the number of heavy vehicles hurtling past me with less than six inches of room. Was forced off the road a couple of times by overtaking vehicles, once coming a cropper in the loose sand that made up the verge. Not nice. The day was made worse as Mark had started with a p******e, and then had another one on the way. Later, just as we'd finished drafting (AKA slip streaming) a tractor and trailer for a few miles (as in the picture below) and started pedaling again Mark's chain snapped. Another halt was needed to effect repairs and to curse at the fact that he'd only just cleaned the damn chain the day before.

We made Tonk as it was getting towards dusk and started looking for somewhere to stay. The guesthouse we'd been directed to was full and we were told of a hotel, which proved to be very pricey (Rs800 for a regular double, Rs500 for a shoebox with shared bathroom). Too pricey in fact, so we went in search of another as the sun went down. We were pointed towards the Raj Palace by the bus station. Ah, the Raj Palace. Rs300 for a something that was a "**** hole even for rats" according to Mark, but more to our budget. All in all not the best of days.

Still, only one direction to go the next morning, onwards 110km to Bundi! The day started OK, but the cycling proved to be a drag as Mark wasn't feeling too great, meaning we had to make a few stops on the way. By the end I was starting to feel weak as well but we ploughed on, mostly fuelled by sugary drinks.

Worth it when we made it to Bundi though, which is a beautiful place and quite hassle free. What was going to be a one day stop maximum has turned into three days now. Got a nice hotel down by a water tank with a great view of the palace and castle which soar above and dominate the town. Excuse the poor quality of my night time shot below, really doesn't do it justice.

Had a nice relaxed time in Bundi, even going to a wedding last night but it's time to move on. I'm leaving the bike here for a few days and heading down to Diu in Gujarat for my birthday on Sunday. Unfortunately this means Mark and I are heading different ways now as he has to meet people in Mumbai and can't afford the detour, and I really don't want to spend my birthday on the road, wanting to spend it on the beach instead! To be honest, I'm contemplating sending the bike back soon anyway due to a mixture of time constraints (Helen is flying out in a month) and bad roads for cycling. I've pretty much done what I set out to do, cycle to India, and I'd been half planning to see India by public transport anyway.

I'll leave you with a photo from last nights wedding.

Agra to Jaipor

2009-11-27T11:41:00.006Z

Ended up in Agra for three days waiting for my stomach to start to improve, which it eventually did with the aid of ciprofloxacin, an antibiotic. That was more than enough time in Agra for me, so I was delighted to get back on the road again.

Next major stop was Jaipor, some 230km away, which should be two days although we made it three. After all, we didn't get on the road until midday when we set off! In the end made it 60km or so to Bharatpor, stopping at ruins at Fatehpur Sikri on the way. Good ruins too, although very hasslesome with touts. Did a whistlestop tour in half an hour because of these touts and just general wanting to get on the road-ness. The picture below was taken there... not the best shot of the ruins but it gives you an idea of the countryside.

Up and away the next day, which was a pure cycling day. We followed National Highway 11, which was fine for cycling. There was a steady of stream of traffic, not too heavy, and a nice hard shoulder all made it pleasant enough. I'd been counting family style motels from about mile twenty onwards and we seemed to be passing them every six miles or so. After 60 miles (getting on for 100km) we decided we'd had a good day and to take the next hotel. Last one had been at 54 miles so we were looking for one soon after. Of course, it was at that point it all went awry... next hotel was to be found at the 72 mile mark, and their cheapest room was 1500 rupees. Our maximum budget was 400... although it was a very nice room AND they had a swimming pool! They dropped the price to 700 in the end but it was still too much. We headed off as the sun was dropping and found a dhaba a couple of miles down the road. 100 rupees a head for a bed, much more like it. No pool though. No bathroom come to that. They did heat a bucket of water up for us to was in though, which was nice. The countryside had changed over the day from flat (reminded me of Norfolk oddly, but maybe more on that another time) to actually having some hills. Nice!

This left 60km to Jaipor, which was a doddle. Cycling in Jaipor proved less easy though with Mark and I both coming to differing levels of grief in our search for a hotel. I had a motorbike bump off of me. It was only a walking pace impact and I remained standing but still worrisome. Mark was actually knocked over by a passing autrickshaw (tuk tuk). He naturally went ballistic and once he picked himself chased after the guy screaming blue murder. Caught up with him as well and had a heated discussion with him. Surprised it didn't end up in fisticufts to be honest.

Jaipor is nice enough though, spent the day sight seeing and soaking it all in. A big hectic place, worth at the least the day I spent here. The photo above is of the Hawa Mahal. Anyway, plan is to head towards Bundi tomorrow.

Cycling India... Delhi to Agra

2009-11-21T13:14:00.008Z

After spending far too long in Delhi Mark, my new cycling companion, and I were eager to get on the road. First leg was down to Delhi on National Highway 2. National Highway 2. Hmm. Could prove to be interesting but I couldn't see any other way of doing it. We'd planned on an early, 6AM start in order to try and beat the traffic but in the end we didn't hit the road until around 9:30. Ah well, can't say I'm surprised. The navigation went OK, after a quick stop at India Gate we were soon on NH2 and heading south! Woo-hoo! The traffic getting out of Delhi was challenging but not actually hellish, although the city and suburbs we went through extended some 40km. Eventually we got to the country and off we went!

Spent the first night on the road in a dhaba (roadside cafe type place). Now that was a mistake... they didn't have menus so we just ordered some food. Got the bill the next morning. Aside from 150 rupees per person to sleep there (which was outrageous to start with but beat the 1200 rupees for a twin room at the hotel we'd just passed) they'd charged silly prices for food. 275 rupees for a paneer dish. To put it in perspective, that's going on for 4 pounds. In a good roof top restaurant in Delhi you'd pay maybe 80 rupees for the same dish. The total came to 1410 rupees (around 18 quid) including 250 "service charge". We were not best pleased and left after calling them "Ali Babas". Needless to say we did not pay the service charge. So, the moral here is always ask the price first if there's no menu.

Another days cycling with a wonderful headwind soon took us to Agra, home of the Taj Mahal. Unfortunately during the course of the day my stomach, which has been a bit dicey for days, took a turn for the worse. Oh, made it to Agra easily enough but I couldn't eat solid food so I was powered on cola (mmm, sugar!). The Taj Mahal really is wonderful (although bloody crowded and expensive for non-Indians).

We were going to be setting off on the road again today but that was a non-starter. My stomach has spent the past 48 hours getting worse and I'm currently self medicating on antibiotics in the hope of clearing it, and my head which feels totally fogged up. Even the smell of food is making me feel sick! See how it goes tomorrow anyway.

Arriving in India

2009-11-13T08:59:00.003Z

Arriving in Delhi at 5am I was worried I was going to be blown away by the place. As it is, it's big and chaotic, full of surprises and stuff that is out of the ordinary for a European. Having said that, having spent a little time in Africa and South East Asia, and having visited Chennai seems to have inoculated me somewhat, at least to the extent where I'm not running screaming too often (aside from to the loo).

I'm staying in the Pahar Ganj area, pictured above, for a few days. The area is certainly interesting, vibrant and full of "characters" one might say. I'm waiting to team up with another British cyclist who's flying here from Istanbul on the 16th, after which the plan is to head towards Goa. Had been planning to train it up to Amristar and still might, but unfortunately booze and inertia have intervened for now.

More later!

Leaving Iran. Thoughts and reflections

2009-11-11T08:11:00.004Z

It's been the best part of a week since I left Iran now and I guess some sort of summary is in order. Getting out was quite easy. Due to the lack of Pakistani visa I'd got a flight booked over to Delhi with Gulf Air. Contrary to their stated policy online (bikes are carried for US$30 but must be bagged or boxed before the airport) when I rang them I was told my bike was to be transported as part of my luggage allowance (30kg + 5kg discretionary + hand luggage, after that US$7 per kg) and would be made ready for travel at the airport. Spent the day before flying ditching or posting back to the UK anything that was surplus weight which meant I posted 5kgs of kit back and did the first proper clean out of my bags in months.

At the airport the bike had to be X-rayed then various passport stamping when on. When it came to the check in bike and bags came to 34.5kgs and carry on luggage to about 8kgs. And I was wearing pretty much all I could as well! Wrapping the bike was a nightmare though, with a man using a clingfilm machine and his mate not rotating the vertically held bike properly. Crunch. I've still not brought myself to unpack it...

Iran is without doubt the most hospitable country I've visited on this trip, although it's hard to know how much of the hospitable character is a genuine old time thing and how much comes from their relative isolation. I think, going from my experiences in Eastern Turkey and Serbia it's made up much more of the former rather than the later. At times it's wonderful, at other times a little annoying and sometimes dangerous, such as the time I ended up flanked by motorbikes in heavy traffic, with four people trying to talk to me at once and both motorbikes slowly moving in to the point where I felt it was all going to end in tears. So the people, with one or two dishonourable mentions were fantastic (yes, there were one or two pricks, but far less than elsewhere).

The government, however, I as less than chuffed with, and talking to people I'm pretty certain the country is going to change. Either the government is going to manage that change and start making limited controlled changes (which would be in their best interests obviously) or the country is liable to explode into bloody violence. The majority of the population is in the 15 to 30 age bracket and when you're that age you think you're immortal. Your friends might die but you won't, and those are the people who will be the cannon fodder. I spoke with one person, well to do in a very senior station who told me about the Sepah (you might know them as the Revolutionary Guards) unofficially sending out videos of how they'd tortured kids after the summers uprising. The one that shook him (and he wanted to share it with me) was of hooded detainees being led to the edge of a third story roof then told to step down the "stairs". The video captured the falling and the landing and was made and released purely to affect the parents of those who might be involved in the next round.

Still, I believe (although I have no particular evidence to base this on bar talking to a self selecting sample) that change will come within the next five or ten years, provided, of course, that the Americans or Israelis don't intervene and cock it all up as usual. And when it does Iran I'm of the opinion that it will become a secular democracy. Democratic because even now Iran is nominally a democracy. And after all, Iran was establishing increasingly more democratic systems in the early twentieth century despite British and Russian interference. Killed off by the American and British coup in 1953 of course (organised out of the US Embassy btw, which goes some way to explain just why the siege of 1979 and 1980 happened). And as to secular well the vast majority of those I spoke (and yes, it was a small sample etc etc) not only despised the government but also increasingly Islam and Arabs. Loathed them with a passion in fact. I'll end with an interesting statistic I came across: 1.4% of Iranians go to the mosque on a Friday. In the UK the figure for church attendance is around 7%.

Couple of Iranian bits I didn't bother posting whilst there

2009-11-09T08:35:00.005Z

Definitely playing catch up with the blog here, in no small part because the internet is quite restricted by the government in Iran. Speeds are deliberately throttled, a lot of sites blocked and some webmail can be shut down, as my Yahoo based account was last week, during anti-government protests.

This will be kind of a condensed what I've been up to and one or two things I didn't really feel comfortable talking about in Iran: not because the Iranian govt have got a super hot cyber team but just, well, because you know. Sometimes a bit of paranoia can be healthy. The first little thing, which seems laughable now, is not getting fingerprinted when entering the country. I was emphatically told while going through entry formalities that the police would take my dabs (OK, whatever) but somehow managed to wander through three sets of officials without this little formality taking place. Nobody had wanted to take them. OK, fair enough. But then with the long hours on the bike with no one to talk to but myself I began to get a little paranoid. The official who'd told me I needed to be fingerprinted had beem pretty damn insistent about it. What if they were to be carried in the passport as some countries insist you do with things like currency declarations? Could be a problem at police checkpoints or leaving the country and the last thing I wanted was trouble with the authorities in Iran. In the end I spoke to the tourist information chap in Tabriz who just laughed and said yes, they were fingerprinting Brits but don't worry about, it's just low level harassment and the prints were filed in the bin! Well that's alright then.

Second thing that got the rampant high level paranoia going was potentially more serious. I was in a hotel chilling with a pot of tea one evening when a gentleman engaged me in conversation. Usual stuff to start with, where are you from, do you like Iran, what do you think of the government. Then it started getting a little bit too heavy for my tastes. The guy claimed to be an engineer. Hypothetically, he asked, hypothetically, if someone knew the location of a secret nuclear installation and went to the American Embassy in Ankara or Delhi, did I think the American government would help this person and his family get out of Iran and relocate them to the USA? To which my response was "Uh... WHAT?!? I do not want to have this conversation. If we did have this conversation I would say this man is a suicidal fool, the Americans probably know about the site anyway and would mess him around. Now, I think I have to be going." Wouldn't let me get straight away but insisted on inviting me up to a mountain village for a few days or at least dinner at his house. As they say I made my excuses and left. Kids, never discuss nuclear secrets in a paranoid messed up theocracy with the occasional tendency to look foreigners up as Israeli spies. It could be a set up (don't laugh, stuff like that happens), it could be genuine... which is potentially just as bad! Walk away, just walk away.

A good days cycling

2009-10-30T06:29:00.004Z

My blog entries may be a little disjointed for a while, decent Internet access is proving to be hard to find, ability to upload photos more so.

I described doing my first hefty climb in Turkey a few weeks back. Since then I've gotten more and more used to mountains to the point where I'm starting to look forward to them. I've not got to the point where I'd go out of my way to find one but when one is on the map it's not something to be avoided

Yesterday I started the day in the town of Abarkuh, some 145km from my next
destination, Yazd, according to my dodgy map. On close scrutiny it seems that the days ride would be divided into three sections. The first would take me from an elevation of 1525m, 60km across a flat desert plane where the mountains began. The second an indeterminate distance up and over the mountains (guesstimated height of 2200 to 2500m) then the last section would drop me down to the city of Yazd, at an elevation of around 1250m. Time was a worry as dusk is around 5:30 here at the moment, and I started around 8:15 so the day would be a race against the clock. The start was not that promising, I had to stop to make minor mechanical adjustments against a dark sky that seemed to promise rain in the hours ahead.

The First Section, getting there
Despite the sky and minutes lost adjusting the bike things started well. A slight downwards slope and a tailwind meant the first 40km sailed by in a couple of hours. The downwards slope turned into a slight gentle rise slowing my speed but allowing me to start to gain some of the height for the mountains. I put on around 1300 feet over the last 20km although my speed dropped to around 10mph. I got to the last village before the mountain, grabbed a can of cola (ah, sugar!) and on to...

The Second Section, the Climb
Time to wax lyrical, sorry.
The road curves up and to my right as it makes it's way into the mountains. I've still a mild tail wind but the gradient is much higher, biting into my speed. As I ascend the drivers I meet are tooting their horns and waving, more so than usual. There's something about watching a fully loaded tourer going up a hill that seems to make people want to lend their support. And you know what? I appreciate it, even though it gets to be an effort to wave back.

It doesn't take too long for my muscles to start aching and odd pains to start shooting through my right calf. I need food and water throughout the climb and whilst the former is easy enough to do on the move the latter is more problematic. I'm well beyond the countries where energy or muesli bars are available and today I'm carrying lavash (thin flat unleavened bread) and feta. Good stuff but I'm going up a bloody mountain and taking a break is the last thing I want to do. If I stop for more than a couple of minutes the lactic acid build up in my muscles comes to the fore and it takes me maybe 10 minutes of slow painful cycling to regain my pace. So food is grabbed quickly maybe three times of the course of the two hour ascent, shoved in the mouth, another piece in hand and off again, all within a minute.

Muscles aching, encouraged by fellow road users I'm sloggin my way up the foothills. Initial speeds of 10mph drop to around 8mph as fatigue takes it toll and gradients increase. Then down to a steady 6, sometimes lower as I slowly wind my way up. As I get higher and it gets progressively harder I start to curse people. Myself, for being an idiot: why the hell am I doing this? Why am I putting myself through it? The road builders! Stupid bloody way to build a road, why not use that valley over there instead? No, truth to tell this seems to be a good road, uphill without no sudden 100 or 200 meter drops to be made up again, making me cycle the same altitude twice. Then I hit a series of undulations that drop me down a few tens of feet with a steep rise afterwards. Four or five hours of constant cycling with 50kg of bike and gear has taken its toll. Bleeding incompetent road builders! Why couldn't they level this!?

Cursing, sweating despite the falling temperature wondering why I do THIS **** I slowly ascend. I'm checking the altimeter, trying to work out when I'm going to top out. I find it's generally difficult to know when you've reached the high point of a pass until you actually do and today is no exception. The road twists and turns round the peaks. Round this bend and over that rise, surely that must be it... no, just another sodding rise! Why do I do this, I must be mad! The height on the altimeter rises slowly and steadily, while the temperature drops. 7500 feet... 12c... 7500 feet, hmmm, what's that in meters? Divide by 3.3, it's, er, damm, whatever! 7550, 7600 and I'm tyring to signal to oncoming trucks "is this it, is it downhill after this last push?" but it's hard to convey that in the time it takes for them to rush by beeping their horns and waving.

On and up and it's spotting with rain. Finally this must be it, must be. Yes! YES! I've topped out at 8411 feet, which must be, what, 2600 meters or thereabouts. Time to stop, refill the water bottles from one of the big bottles bungied to my rear rack. Pull the fleece on against the cold and rain, 7c now. More bread, cheese.

Now for the pay off! In the time it's taken to stop, refuel and set off again I've come from gruelling I'm-an-idiot to an endorphin and adrenalin fuelled high that you have to experience to believe as I start to fly down the other side. Stunning vistas open up as I hit 30 mph with ease, then 40, then 44... I'm not waving to the ongoing traffic any more, I'm punching the air with sheer body filling joy, I'm high as a kite in more ways than one! THIS is IT! THIS is the pay off for two hours of sheer hard bloody grind, for salt encrusted hair, shirt, trousers, for the pain, THIS is why I do it, I LOVE IT, I LOVE IT, I LOVE IT! YES!YEAH!

The Third Section, the way down
The descent is on with some 80km (50 miles) to go. I know I'm going to make it well before dusk now. The scenery is stunning with mountains and canyons that wouldn't look out of place in a cowboy film. Except this is Iran. I gradually come down, taking time to pause, take photos and have photos taken of me though goodness knows I must look a right state. Finally I get to the outskirts of Yazd. I've covered the last fifty miles in a little over two and a half hours, cruising between 16 and 26 miles an hour aided by a tail wind and 1400 meters worth of stored kinetic energy. By the time I reach a hotel at 4pm, I've covered 99.86 miles according to my speedometer, not bad, not bad at all.

And relax...

Qazvin to Esfahan... the unthinkable happens

2009-10-21T15:55:00.008+01:00

After getting down from Alamut by taxi I then cashed in the last of cycling cred by getting a bus to Esfahan. My visa is getting down to it's last week and as I'm not relying on it to be renewed and given that I want to see more of the country I saved time and miles by bussing it down to Esfahan. Getting the bus itself had it's moments. The first ticket I got was for a 15.15 bus that would get me into Esfahan for 22:30. Bit late to arrive really but then I found another bus company with a 13:00 departure which was far better. I braced myself for a "discussion" over a refund but there was no trouble at all. The guy who sold me the first ticket came with me, explained the bus I wanted and handed over the money. Easy!

Getting the bike actually on the bus wasn't that hard either. Front wheel off, saddle lowered and in it went. Then the driver charged me for it... he started at 150,000 Rial (about 9 pounds) which was two and half times the cost of the ticket! I got him down to 100,000. I say got him down, I mean he snatched it out of my hand and went off with a big grin on his face.

Esfahan is a nice city in the south of Iran. Got some very scenic areas and the usual mad Iranian traffic. Crossing the road is like a game of frogger... top tip, make sure there's an Iranian between you and the traffic. This generally means stand in the middle of a crowd as the traffic comes from every direction! Probably the main tourist focus is the Iman Square, pictured below.

I ended up spending longer than I thought I would in Esfahan, partly because there were a lot of other travellers there, and it was good to talk to them.

Alamut Valley... home of the assassins!

2009-10-19T14:26:00.009+01:00

One thing about being in Iran is I'm doing a lot more touristing, because I really want to see more of this place than just a couple of cities and 2000 km of desert! Well, my route was taking me a mere 106 km from the site of the Alamut castle of Hassen-i-Sabbeh, founder of the Hashashin, or assassins as the word has become. Not just Alamut castle but 50 other assassin castles. A mere 100km or so? Looking at the map it seemed like a good morning of cycling over a mountain range then down and into the valley. Call it two days of exploring by bike, maybe get back for the third day. Great.

After a fairly late start, delayed by the usual tea and chat, I set off. And up the mountain I went. My map is fairly large scale and looking at it I judged the mountain to peak at around 6000 feet. Not the 7500 it proved to be. Still, no problem really, just a lot of hard work. The reward was a breath taking view of the valley and a descent down 4500 feet to the 3000 foot level. Then another steep, steep climb. By the time the sun was going down I'd done maybe 60 of those 106 kilometers. Hmm. Yes. He was called the Old Man of the Mountains wasn't he, not the Old Man of the Well Thought Out Gently Rising Cycle Path. I see where I went wrong...

The next day I was up and on the road by 7 AM. Took me four hours to make those 40 kilometers to a village by the name of Ghazor Kahn where the remains of Hassen-i-Sabbeh's castle stood. Again a lot of steep hills. I left my bike and had to walk up the last part. The castle is pretty destroyed and what's left is clad in scaffolding and corregated iron by the archeologists working there, but it's still amazing. This is the view from the top. You can see the village below and the last few kilometers of road.

Had a good old stooge around, a wonderfully atmospheric place. It struck me as a sort of cross between Tintagel in Cornwall and Sigiriya in Sri Lanka. Notice the wall I'm leaning on... trying not to lean too hard as there are some scary drops involved.

One thing I had to do was sit down and listen to Hawkwind a couple of times. Those of you who know what I'm talking about know what I'm talking about. Flashbacks to gigs I'd been to in the 80s. Ah, happy days. On a par to listening to Spinal Tap at Stone 'enge. One last photo from the castle.

After wandering around there for a couple of hours I went back down to the village and picked up a lovely little place to stay for around 3 Euros (I think). The next day though I did the unthinkable. It was going to take me two days to get back to Qazvin where I'd come from and time is running low. I arranged to put the bike in a savari (shared taxi) and thus ended the pure cycling. I had a bloody heaving heart then I can tell you. While I know it's the rational thing to do it just feels so wrong.

Anyway, song for the day... again, youtube is blocked here so I can't vouchsafe for it's quality.

Tabriz to Qazvin and a broken camera

2009-10-14T14:40:00.005+01:00

Playing catch up with the blog here. I made it down from Tabriz to Qazvin in the four days. Mountains gave way to fertile plains but alas, I can't show any of this as my camera broke whilst taking a photo of an orchard. Slipped from my grasp and whilst the strap stopped it plummeting to its doom the iris got jarred and FUBARed! Still, imagine all those mountain types areas I posted so many pictures of in Turkey gradually giving way to autumnal looking orchards then broad valleys which soon begin to look quite Middle Eastern albeit with more greenery than you might expect if you'd not been in this part of the world before.

Reached Qazvin after an heroic mornings cycling which saw me put 80 miles on the clock before 1 in the afternoon. Turning down the endless tea and food invites helped it has to be said. Oh, and one invitation to drink alcohol at 10AM. Little bit early that. So, I hit Qazvin ready to get my camera repaired or replaced in the afternoon. Not realizing that it was a public holiday and everywhere was shut. Ah. Bugger.

So it was early the next morning before I found a camera repair place nearby. Too early in fact and I had to wait for a bit until the right person turned up. He took the camera off me, told me it was a problem with the iris (which was good, until then I thought it was a problem with the light sensor) and said to come back in an hour. Which I did, only to be told that it was not fixable and I should get it sorted when I got back to Englistan. Damn, bugger and blast. Spent the rest of the day comparing the options available for me to get a replacement and finally settled on the Canon SX200. Expensive at 300 Euros but a good replacement. I went and changed the money, then returned to the camera shop, which was in the same arcade as the repair place. As I did so one of the chaps from the repair place waved me back into the shop... Mr Talib had arrived, the wizard of camera repairers and would be able to fix me camera! I was to give the camera to him, sit down and wait which I duly did.

In the end it took three hours for Mr Talib to strip my camera down and rebuild the iris by hand. In Europe I've no doubt it would've taken a couple of weeks of sending it to a lab and During this time I took a series of photos using my phone entitled "Your warranty is now well and truly voided" and was plied with copious amounts of tea, bread, cucumbers, tomatos and feta. When I find a way to transfer them I'll upload them to the webs. In the meantime here's the chaps after they fixed my camera.

Iran (to Trabiz)

2009-10-09T17:26:00.006+01:00

First of all, as this cross posts to Facebook, I can let you all know I have fallen into a slight communications black hole. Been told that all phone links to the UK are blocked and can't access Facebook at the moment although that might be a server problem. [Update... it isn't, it's filtered). Blogger and my email works though so (although strangely enough my email doesn't work through yahoo.co.uk) not all communications are down as yet! And I have temporary Facebook access but don't shout about it.

Iran... well what can I say? Crossed the border three days ago which was an interesting experience. Border formalities were quite quick and a bit muddled, leaving me somewhat bemused until I got to chat to a pair of French tourists the next day. More on that later.

First three days here have been good fun. People are hospitable to point where I'm finding it difficult to make the miles I need given my limited visa. Got around 1900km to do in 20 days to get to Shiraz which doesn't give me much sight seeing time. Visa extensions are meant to be fairly easy to get but I really don't want to rely on them so I'm contemplating getting a train at some point to cut a few hundred kilometers off. Yean, I know, boooo to Bill and all that. Still, I'd rather see more places if I can rather than just cycle and spend two days touristing. If I get the visa extension then I'll get the miles in.

Hospitable people... oh my word yes. This nutter matched speed with me for a chat on the road. Can't say too much mind as I then got the camera out and took the photo.

I'm constantly awash with tea and invitations to food abound. Took one invite to tea up and ended up in an impromptu party. This is me and mine host rocking out to Rachid Taha on my iPod speakers.

Reached Trabiz today and was guided in by a couple of students on bikes. Nice guys, wanted me to stay with them but I was feeling too old to stay with some 18 year Iranian students and politely said no. Yes, I realise how ungrateful I'm being etcetera but sometimes a bit of time alone is good. Besides, come on, you all remember student houses, right?

Had one slight problem, a piece has fallen off of my pump rendering it useless. Bit of a worry that as I'm using Presta valued inner tubes rather than Schrader (the ones used on cars). Until about an hour ago all I'd seen here have been Schrader valves on bikes but now I've seen someone with the right valve I know I can a replacement pump. Phew.

Farewell to Turkey

2009-10-05T19:27:00.002+01:00

Well, I've been here for a while but tomorrow I do the last 35km to the border and then into Iran, somewhere I'm really looking forward to.

Turkey has been fun I have to say. It's odd, when I first visited here some 16 years ago on my way to Syria it still had something of an exotic mystique to it. Over the ınterveninv years it has lost some of that due to mass European tourism and indeed the changes in charcter were visible when I went down to Antalya to meet Helen. However I've got to say that away from the mass tourism Turkey is still a land of surprises and wonderful hospitable people.

As I've got into the North East the journey has been one of continued awe at the landscape and people. Interesting to be in a Kurdish region where the Jandarma (paramilitary police who refer to themselves as Army and who am I to argue with that if they drive AFVs at times?) are in bases that look like American firebases in Vietnam circa 1967 and people make a V for Victory sign as a salute that is Kurdish nationalist in extremis.

I've also developed a taste for mountainous cycling (800 meter of vertical climb? Sure, then a stop for a breakfast!) and a desire to do more at some later stage (the Pamir Highway in a year or two perhaps).

I've not been eaten by dogs although I have been chased by then. I have had kids throw stones at me, yes but only one kid at a time and quite frankly they can sod off, the hospitlity has been great! If anyone reading this gets the chance then do come here for the cycling!

Last leg of Turkey...

2009-10-03T16:24:00.004+01:00

Just skooting along the last bit stretch of Turkey now. I'm currently in a small provincial capital by the name of Ağri, one days ride from Doğübazit, final stop before Iran. The last couple of days of riding have been good, including the highest pass so far (I think...) at 2290 meters. Mountain passes and big valleys with the weather a lot warmer than of late. Wonderful. It'll be downhill for a few weeks now I think which is a shame, I'm getting a real taste for mountains!

Anyway, the area I'm in is very much a Kurdish region, where people have been very hospitable. Apart from a couple of times where I've had kids in villages throw stones at me. First time, one kid said 'Hello!' while his pudgy freind decided to bend down and grab a handful of pebbles to throw one at me as I rode pass. Pebbles for Pete's sake! Take a lcuky shot to do anything with them. Second time a pre-teen kid just hurled a rock at me as I passed a village. Both times merited me getting my dog bashing stick out and waving it round my head as I turned the bike back in their direction, causing the desired result of the kids scappering. Job done.

Other than that it's been a very warm welcome with some great hotels...

Picking up the Iranian visa in Erzurum

2009-10-01T10:49:00.004+01:00

Well, at long last I got my Iranian visa stamped in my passport. Here's the drill, as of september 2009, on how to does this in Erzurum. If you're European (particularly if you're British) do not attempt this without first obtaining a Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MFA) approval number through a good agency such as TouranAzmin. If you're American just don't bother.

First you need to get to the consulate. Personally, for me a day off the bike is a rest day, time for the cycling muscles to have a break. So when the chap in the hotel pointed out the dolmus (local buses) stop, gave me a map where he marked the consulate location and told me to get the dolmus towards Yenisehir (even drawing to route on the map) I was all good to go! It was nice and early, time to go do it. I hoped on a minibus with a Yenisehir sign on it and off we went. Of course, it transpires that not every bus to Yenisehir follows the same route... at first we did follow what was drawn on the map but then, around the university we divirged. OK I thought, just going to pick some students up. Nope. After 10 minutes I communicated wıth the driver through the medium of pointing at the map and shrugging questioningly. He indicated I should wait and that we would get there. He then offered me some of his breakfast roll.

We got to the point where he indicated I should get off and get the ski lift up to the mountain resort. Ah... OK, so slight crossed wires soon sorted out when we realised the mistake (I'd pointed at my circled building, which was next to the Ski resort 5km sign). So back until the bus turned off the route. The driver wouldn't let me pay and indicated I needed to get another bus. Or so I thought. By this point I'd decided to just hop in a taxi which I duly did. He then did a u-turn, went 100 meters up the road and opened the door...

So, the consulate at last! If you're doing this yourself look out for the small Iranian flag and police man outside an otherwise unremarkable building. You then have to get in. Press the buzzer and wait to speak to somene to get the door open. Press it again thirty seconds later. And again at fifteen second intervals. Patience is your friend here. When someone does answer (listen up though, it's quiet and the traffic is heavy!) say 'visa' and wait to be buzzed into the reception room. At this point it helps to have a good book with you as you wait on your own for a few minutes. Eventually a guy came downsairs and we had a brief conversation, him seated and me having to squat down as the opening in the glass barrier is at waist height. He took my MFA number and jotted it down. He then told me that everyone was in a meeting (ah, explains the waiting!) and to come back in an hour. Oh-kay.

I walked down the road for a bit looking for somewhere to get a (non-alcoholic) drink and ended up wondering into the center of town... the consulate is about a 20 minute so you might want to contemplate that course of action. I was back again on the hour and repeated the buzzer performance. Then the wait until someone came down (ah, so the meeting DİDN'T explain the wait). I was then told my MFA number was OK, I'd been granted a 20 day visa (great, I'd only applied for a 14 day one) and I was given an applicaton form to be filled in and returned with two passport photos and a receipt from the TC Tickaret bank showing I'd paid the visa fee into the account details given on a slip of paper. The fee? 95 euros...Oh what a joy to be English!

So, down to the bank and I made it just before it closed for lunch. As a point of information here they'll happily except Turkish Lira if you're trying to conserve your stock of Euros (remember, cash machines will not work for you in Iran, you need to take cash in euros, US$ or sterling for your whole stay). Then it was time for a lunch of corba (soup). There are a lot of good soup places here where you can fill up on tasty corba and bread up for 3TL. They even give you a plate with some olives and pickles as a side dish.

After lunch, back to the consulate for 2:30 and into waiting mode again. On squatting down and presenting all my documents the chap behind the counter said that I should come back the next morning to get the visa. That's fine with me I said, I'm planning on staying another day here anyway. Then he began to worry that I'd need my passport for the hotel. No, no, I'd already paid, it was fine, they could keep it overnight. No he decided, I needed it so I would have it. Come back at five.

Fine, what with the waiting I'd done that meant an hour and a half to fill before making my fourth trip of the day to the embassy. Just time to drink some tea and do some shopping. When I turned up again, bang on five, the policeman outside told me the place was shut and I should come back tomorrow. He even pointed out the sign giving the office hours which did indeed say Open 08:30 - 12:30, 14:30 - 16:30 (Saturday to Thursday, shut Friday and Sunday). I told him no, I was expected a five and rang the bell. And waited. And rang, and...

Eventually I was let in and presented with my passport complete with visa stamp! I was so happy I was pracitcally skipping in the aır and clicking my heals together as I walked back down to town one... last... time...

Tercan to Erzurum

2009-09-29T16:45:00.005+01:00

Weather continues to be cold, hovering between 3C and 8C today, but I've made my stopping point of Erzurum. Erzurum is a town of around 360000 people in the North East of Turkey, with an altitude of around 1900 meters. This is where, all being well, I pick up my Iranian visa and sort out more Euros. Then it should be three days cycling to Doğubayazit which will be my final stopping point before the border. According to the forecasts the weather will be sunny from tomorrow but they've been wrong for days so I don't expect them to be right now. As you can see from the picture it's been grey skies and snowy peaks of late.

People continue to be great, although you need a strong bladder round here because of the amount of çai you're given. Go to buy a loaf of bread in the morning? Sit and drink three cups of tea with the baker. Stop for a tea at a service staion? Have three on the house. And a bit of cake. Bit nippy out? The tailor and Pirelli dealer in town (yes, as in Pirelli tyres, made for an interesting shop that did) will invite you in, pour tea down your throat and show you how pockets are made for trousers, as in the photo below. One interesting thing (interesting to me that is, you may not find it so but if that's case go get your own blog!): sugar in tea. I'm moving out of sugar cube territory and into the sugar rock zone. Instead of dissolving it in your tea you put the sugar in your mouth and drink the tea through it. I gather this is the Iranian style, and whilst not everybody is doing it the further east I go the more prevalent it becomes. Talking of which I haven't been able to get The Kinks Have A Cuppa Tea out of my head for weeks! Hope the link works, youtube is banned in Turkey so I can't check.

And finally, where would my blog be without a down? The dogs are getting more worrisome as I get further east and back onto high plains sheep country. Mind, they also guard the cattle. Had a couple of minor incidents today, one when I on a downhill (heh heh, so long sucker!) and in the other the shepherd was around to call them back. Just hope I don't wake up to three of the sods ripping into my tent in the middle of the night.

Erzincan to Tercan

2009-09-28T14:42:00.003+01:00

After yesterdays cold weather I was interested to see what the day would bring. My next major stop is Erzurum where I have to spend at least a day picking up my visa for Iran, but Erzincan it's around 200km which is too far to cycle in mountains in one day. When I set off the thermometer was readıng a balmy 17c! Fantastic! However, when I got the bike on the road and away from the warm building it had been leaning against it soon dropped below 10c, with a biting wind. Ah. On the plus side it was a tail wind so I fairly sailed along.

The first 40 miles of the day were along a beautiful valley carved by quite a large river. Fantastic cycling even if it did occasionally threathen to rain. Unfortunately I didn't get any good photos that really captured the place but I put the one below to give you an idea.

Now, whilst I have the kit to camp overnight in tempratures down to -5c comfortably I also have the start of a snuffling nose and tight chest so discretion being the better part of valour I'm in a hotel at the half way point of this leg. It is good to know that if I need to I can camp but it's better to stop in a cheap and comfy room!

Final 90km to Erzurum tomorrow, I'm hoping it's as beautiful as today. Got around 1500 feet of height to gain which isn't too much and the forecast is for sun. Fingers crossed!

End of the holiday within the holiday and back on the road

2009-09-25T13:22:00.004+01:00

Well, my holiday from cycling is over. I spent a week on the Med coast of Turkey with Helen relaxing (and very relaxing it was too!), mostly just lying on the beach. I've got some nice photos to post but they will have to wait until I get to somewhere I can upload them. Before this interlude I wasn't too keen to get off the bike, when I finished I wasn't too keen to get back on! One thing worth mentioning is bumping into Oliver and Ernst, who I'd last seen a god month back on the Black Sea coast. These were two of the three in the van who directed Rob and me to a good beach then cooked us dinner... came across them again in Kas which was surprising but very pleasant. Helen and I went round with a couple of beers and we had a god catch up. In the time I'd been swannıng around Turkey they'd been down the Syria and back.

I spent my last day in Antalya trying to get some euros together. One of the many things Helen delivered was the Lonely Planet guide for Iran which indicates that due to international sanctions ATM cards don't work in Iran so cash is king. All well and good but it meant trying to get €1000 together. Alas, my Ezurum where I've got to stop for a day to pick up my Iranian visa. Matters weren't helped by the pound losing 5 or 10 percent in value last week. Damn you British economy!

This was followed by an overnight bus back to the small town of Imranli where I'd left my bike. I had a valium to help me sleep and boy did it do the job! Out like a light for most of the journey and bright eyed for my 8AM arrival. I had been thinking about staying for a night but decided to go pretty much straight out as it was a nice day. Hmm. Bright eyed perhaps but not bushy tailed... to be fair there was a hell of a climb up yet another mountain pass but by three in the afternon I was done for. I should have pushed on and found a campsite but I don't like to camp until it's getting towards night particularly when there's no cover from the road. Still, as luck would have it there was a motel and that did it for me!

Up and away this morning. Alas, the weather has turned somewhat which was a bit of a shock. Started off nicely enough, around 12C and soon warmed a couple of degrees. Then came the mornings climb, a pass at 2200 meters. As I climbed, twisting and turning up through the mountains I could the mist swirling around the mountain tops. Would it envelop me? It was difficult to tell at the time as each peak hid the next. Of course, in the end, it did. I watched the tempreture fall below 10... time for the fleecy top! Then it diped further and the drizzle started. Off with the fleecy top and on with the waterproof. The temprature continued to fall as I went higher, bottoming out at 3C. I was in shorts and wearing cycling gloves... my hands felt like blocks of ice, even more so when the downhill started as even with the breaks on I was hitting 40mph. Mind you, I didn't realy notice my hands at the time as my forehead felt like it was being hacked open by a chunk of frozen melon.

I made it to the town of Erzincan, some 1000 meters lower by which point the temprature was a balmy 10C! Decided it was time for another hotel and a spot of shopping. I'm now the proud owner of a new pair of gloves, a wooly hat and extra warm socks. And lots of chocolate. They should help me through the next ten days or so I've got in the mountains before I descend to the plains again in Iran. In'shallah.

On the buses, Turkish style

2009-09-15T16:30:00.006+01:00

After my hitting one bad storm I was a little apprehensive about the weather in the region I was in as I absolutely had to be in Antalya to meet Helen on Thursday. As I cycled the next day another heavy storm brewed up after lunch time forcing me to do another manic run towards a place by the name of Imranli (pop. 4000) some 40km short of where I'd being planning to camp that evening. I just reached the town petrol station as the rain started lashing down and sat and watched the weather over several glasses of çai. Talking to people at the petrol station I found out there was a hotel in town and deciding that discretion being the better part of valour it was the point to hang up my cycling shoes for a bit and set off for my holiday. Well, I say ''hang up my cycling shoes'' but in fact since my sandals walked out on me (or were taken by a stray dog) the shoes and a pair of flip flops are all I have in the way of footwear so that was just a metaphor.

I spent the evening in Imranli where I took a tour round the town, a nice little place. I was invited into a game of toss the walnut at the coin on the village square and generally had people nudging each other and saying ''turıst!'' as I bimbled past. They seemed to be under the impession I was the advanced guard of a possible wave of mass tourism not realising all that would unleash on them for good and ill. Of course, I'm not. I'm just some nut on a bike but they weren't to know that.

I arranged to park my bike at the hotel for a few days and the owner sorted out a direct bus ticket to Antalya for the following day which was a pleasant surprise as I'd anticipated a dolmus (local minibus) ride followed by a couple of coaches.

Come the next day I was back at the petrol station waiting for my bus to Antalya. Departing at 15:30 it due to arrive at 06:00 the next day. Mmm, fun! Actually yes, there is an element of fun here. Long distance bus travel in Turkey has a certain allure and feel to it that I've not really encountered elsewhere so I wasn't too put out at having to do this journey.

As we set off at first I felt a degree of sadness seeing the hard won miles slipping away but as night fell different emotions took over. I'd spent a few evenings wild camping near main roads, indeed, the self same roads I was now on. Previously I'd heard the buses roaring by like giant unknown creatures of the night but now I was on one, part of one.

The buses in Turkey stop every two to three hours so people can get off for a few minutes, grab a çai or some food, go to the toilet and chain smoke. Mostly though they just gulp down hot sweet tea and suck ciggies like they're going out of fashion. As the night draws on and we get closer towards the big population centers and more sleep deprieved the service stations take on ever more fantastical in appearance. Even later in the night, at a stop where I was woken at 2 AM somewhere towards the coast, the service staion was a vertiable mirage in neon, selling food, çai, clothes, piles of various nuts and roasted pulses and seeds, childrens toys, books, turkish delight and just about anything else a traveller could want. It was at this stop that I realised I was no longer the only tourist around as sleepy passengers tumbled from the busses pulling in, people muttering late night words of German and English as they gasped at their fags, feet clad in sandals. And then time comes to leave, to sleep for another two hours maybe. We all look round to check that our fellow passengers are on board and we're off.

We hit Antalya on time and I had one last cup of tea with the gent who'd been sitting next to me, pictured above in Antalya with cig and çai in hand. For the first time in 14 hours and countless stops I manage to get him a çai rather than the other way round! Yes! That makes it around 12:1 in his favour. . Of course, he still managed to get one last round in for me...

Saved from the storms near Sivas

2009-09-15T14:27:00.007+01:00

I was getting my last lap of cycing in before diverting south for a few days on an Otobus to meet Helen, my girlfriend, in Antalya. I decided to try and make either Erzincan or Erzerum before setting off on my ''holiday''. Erzerum would be a push but Erzincam was do-able with a days safety margin if I made 120km a day. 120km is well within my range barring mishaps even given the climbs involved... Eastern Turkey gets very moutainous and to get to Erzincan I had to cross two passes at around the 2200 meters level.

This meant when I hit a light shower in the town of Sivas after doing 80km that day I only briefly considered stopping in a comfy hotel there before choosing instead to try to push on to some lakes 50km away with the intention of making camp there. By the tıme I got to the outskirts of Sivas I had a good tailwind. Nice! A little while later, when I'd climbed a steep climb and was a bit further out, I looked back. Ah. It didn't look good. Not good at all. I could see the rain pouring down on Sivas. I was tempted to turn back but the headwind was going to make it difficult and whatever happened I was going to get soaked. I decided to run with the wind and went for it. Made it some 30km by which point the sky to my right looked like the photo below. Actually, the photo does not do it justice. One section of the sky was pitch black except when the lightening ripped through it. Cursing myself for a fool for not stopping earlier I redoubled my pace and started to look for somewhere to hole up.

As I passed through a small village of some 30 houses the wind veered and the storm hit. Suddenly small bushes and dirt were flying across the road and the rain began. I stopped and asked two farmers scurrying back from the fields if if was OK to camp by the trees there. Yes, it was OK they mimed but wouldn't I rather come back to a solid house? Well, yes as it happens!

We scooted the bike back to one of the houses and put it in the barn under the house as the rain began to lash down with a vengence. I was whisked up from the underfloor heating that the cattle provided for the living quarters and deposited in the main room of the house which trebbled as living room, dining room and bedroom for uncle and gran. The last of the çay (black turkish tea) was brewed up for me although the family who all dodged in and out had none as it was Ramazan (Turkish Ramadan). The family consisted of gran (aged 80), uncle (55) and two brothers (in their late 20s), pictured below. There was also the young cousin, who did drink the çay but then he was a cheeky sod who took great delight in ringing one of the brothers phones until it was picked up to be answered at which point he rang off.

So çay was drunk as the rain bounced off the building then some small pears and apples produced followed by a yoghurt soup placed for me on the table. We tried to communicate but my Turkish was as good as their English so it was miming all round. After an hour or so the rain started to ease off but I was now their guest and they wouldn't dream of letting me leave. Instead, when the rain finally stopped they took me for a tour of the village. Small, traditional and very very rustic would be one way of describing it.

As evening drew on the static filled TV was put on with the Ramazan Special. A ticker on the screen marked off the places where dusk had officially fallen as the fast breaking meal was laid out by gran. I was resigned to eating meat at this point as no way could I, or would I, explain about being vegetarian. Dinner was a yoghurt cucumber and onion dish, a very thin lentil soup and ratatouille like vegetables and rice, all served with plenty of bread. So as it turned out there was no meat anyway. I don't think this is anything to do with Muslim tradition, instead it's more to do with the dirt poor farmer tradition of not having enough money to buy meat regularly. Having said that someone had been sent out whilst I was being prominaded to borrow more tea (must have been borrowed as there wasn't a shop in a five mile radius) as this was all accompanied by copius amounts of tea. Desert was a sweet a little like baklava except bread was used instead of pastry and there were no nuts or such like in it.

After dinner we sat and communicated with varying degrees of success. Most effective was showing each other photos which is how I learned of the brothers dead father, their military service (on brother was a commando who fought against the PKK for example) and a myriad of other details. They got to see my bike in various locations and some nudibranchs. Go figure. About nine o'clock I was shown to my bed for the evening. Not sure whose it was (possibly the cousin who'd been sent off) but it was in the brothers room, and comfy it was too compared to my tent.

I was soon fast asleep. But not for long... it's Ramazan!!! Two AM and time to get up for breakfast! Uhhhhhhh... OK. First, more çay of course! Then food of bread fried in butter, crumbly white cheese, cold apricots stewed without sugar and lastly a small bit of processed meat that I politely turned down with the excuse that I was full. Which I was as every time I stopped eating gran would sharply reprimand me and shove another piece of bread in my hand. Chain smoking commenced as the countdown to dawn drew near then it was time for bed again.

I awoke at eight and was going to go on my way but first the only other person awake, one of the brothers insisted I have breakfast and çay of course. More bread with jam, fresh yoghurt from their cows, butter (likewise) jam and olives. This was served in the general main room with gran and uncle still asleep.

You know, my prose does not do this hospitality justice and I'm still deeply touched by it. People like this have got a damn sight more common humanity than 99% of Europeans or Americans and that defintely includes me. We who've got so much are so scared of being ripped off or taken for a ride or just using up our valuable time that we see to forget the important things ike hospitality. See. Told you my prose wasn't up to it.

Cappadocia

2009-09-09T01:01:00.000+01:00

I'm currently sitting in an internet cafe in Goreme, Cappadocia, sheltering from a sudden downpour. For those of you who don't know of Cappadocia it's a beautiful region in centre of Turkey famous for the natural "fairy chimenys" made by the erosion of a soft volcanic rock (called tuff) which has a layer of harder material on top. Mankind has also been digging into this rock for thousands of years to make whole underground cities in places.

I was heading out on the bike to visit one of these cities but got a text through about bike spares and nipped into the aforementioned internet place thus neatly missing the downpour you might be able to see in the picture above!

I should be leaving Cappadocia tomorrow and heading to the East for the next three days after which I'll be (hopefully) finding somewhere to leave the bike whilst I backtrack to meet up with Helen for a few days on the coast. After that it should be a quick exit from Turkey and on to Iran. One thing that is getting to be a concern is the dogs here: not strays but sheep dogs bred to be aggressive and independent. The further east I'm going the bigger and more vicious they're getting. I've had two packs of them now, one just marking territory the other going for the full chase. Luckily there was a hill to scoot down that time. I'm also using a "dog dazer" which is an utlrasonic device designed to discourage dogs. It seems to get them to back off about a meter, which may just be enough. I need to pick up a stick or cudgel when I hit the road tomorrow really. On the bright side I've not encountered any Kangal sheep dogs yet, they've got the worst reputation of the lot!

After the mountains the steppes.

2009-09-05T07:41:00.001+01:00

Spent a day going from Cankiri to Hatusha, the ancient capital of the Hittites. The landscape is now a stunning combination of lunar like valleys and rolling plains of wheat stubble bounded by hills all coloured in more shades of kahki and brown than one might imagine possible with the very occasional belt of green marking the course of a stream. Villages roll by infrequently, with many of the buildings still made of mud bricks.

Kastamonu to Cankiri: mountain range 2

2009-09-03T18:02:00.001+01:00

Over the second set of mountains today with the highest pass at 1875 meters. I was fair puffed when I reached the top! Funny thing happened on the way. Hit a long stretch of road in a valley, pictured above. Looking at it I could "see" it was a downhill and yet even with a mild tail wind I was struggling to make a decent speed. Checked the altimeter and it said I was still climbing... and looking at it the stream over the road was gurgling back down the way I'd come. Still looked like a downhill though and l just couldn't shake the illusion! Glad to hit a proper gradient after a while just so I knew which way was up again!

Inebelo to Kastamonu: mountain range 1

2009-09-03T12:03:00.001+01:00

Got two mountain ranges to cross now. This stretch saw me go from sea level to a first pass at 995 meters. I don't know if you're the sort to go the gym but if you are imagine a two and a half hour spinning session with no easy bits. Take away the music, add scenary. On second thoughts that doesn't even come close! This was followed by a long downhill then a couple of 1250 meter passes. Buzzing? You bet! Spent the night in a wonderful hotel in an Ottoman era house... but that's a whole other story that needs a keyboard to tell

A word on the Black Sea coast line...

2009-09-01T11:27:00.003+01:00

After I made my last blog post I felt that maybe I was sounding a bit too whiney about the coast here. The thought occured that whist it is very hard work with constant ascents and descents at the same time you're rewarded with the most spectacular scenary! I'd post some photos but alas they're all on my camera and the internet cafe I'm in has no easy way to upload them.

Soon after I had this last thought we got into sections of road works... there had been a few before, where the surfaces had had new pebbles added which turns them into scary slidey places where the edge of the road is liable to skid out from under you, particularly on a fast descent. This was different though. This was tarry sticky road works. Just bitumen and little stones, pinging against the legs and frame. Camped up for the night on an almost flat field that had a view to die for. But then it was 250 meters up the cliffs above the coast. Couldn't fail to have a good view really.

The next day we set off in the hope that the road would soon improve. Some hope. After a few miles of this we came to a section where the tar had been laid without any grit at all. That's right, just a surface of tar. This was just plain dangerous. Emrys, the Australian who's cycling home with bike and trailer, came off in one patch. I skidded to a halt and took a chunk out of shin. My rear breaks stopped working until I stopped and cleaned them down with cooking meths. All not very good, although one heartning thing was passing the tar truck which also seemed to have skidded off and was missing a front wheel. Not much tar after that.

We limped towards the next place with a petrol station some 30 km distant (a good 3 hours of travel), bought a couple of liters of petrol and went and camped on the municipal beach come harbour, using the petrol to clean ourselves up slightly. It was whilst here that we were invited to a Ramazan meal just down the beach with the provinial governer who was handing a promotion out the head of the Jandarms (police). Thankfully the meal was short and to the point!

It took two hours the next day to return a semblence of normality to the bike after which I said goodbye to Rob and Emrys and headed on my way. I'm turning inland tomorrow, which undoubtedly will bring challenges anew. Like a 1500 meter mountain pass in the morning.

Iranian visa is a go!

2009-08-29T12:38:00.001+01:00

Still on the Black Sea. Terrain is getting hilly now: lots of steep long climbs (getting 20% gradients at times) ascending 300 meters or so in height then dropping to sea level. My chain broke earlier today but that's no big problem, a spare link will do for now. The main news is in the title... Got authorisation code for my Iranian visa today! Didn't think I would get it.

Excuse me, mind if we camp on your beach?

2009-08-26T18:31:00.001+01:00

Teamed up with an Aussie on his way home and Rob, a Brit on his way to Japan. We're working our way through the north of Turkey along the coast which is getting hilly. Camped on a village beach tonight a few miles short of a large town.

On the road again and into Asia Minor

2009-08-23T19:58:00.001+01:00

Finally set off from Istanbul yesterday having spent a few days getting visas and carousing. Travelling with a fellow Brit for a few days along the Black Sea coast. In order to avoid the worst of the traffic we got a ferry to the top of the Bosphorus then headed out. Tried to follow a road that wasn't on all the maps (dotted line connection, no good ever came of them!) which was not a good idea... Road petered out to a track and less. Ended up camping near what would've been a perfect beach if it weren't for assorted rubbish. Woken up in the night by wolves howling at each other. In the morning we paw the paw prints of one a few feet away in the sand. Spent today slogging into strong headwinds and over a lot of hills. Currently camped up by another beach that we were directed to by some guys in a van. They had been heading to China but are now on the way to Africa. Nice chaps, cooked us a great meal!

Well there's a turn up for the books

2009-08-21T17:26:00.002+01:00

It should be my final day in Istanbul today as I picked up my Indian visa this afternoon. This means I've got to stop lounging around and go and do things in preperation such as pick up ferry timetables (they don't go where I want when I want: curses!), get a new waterproof (only £6 as well, although the concept of breathable does not seem to apply), pick up laundry and so on.

Another chore for today was to refresh my reading material. Finish off the book I was reading (Tunnel Rats since you ask), swap it and buy a new book as well. Decided to go for a book by Orhan Pamuk, who is Turkeys best selling writer and winner of the 2006 Nobel prize for literature. I've read a lot of his work and was in a city centre English language book shop trying to choose what to get. Tough choice and in the end I decided that rather than get his latest, the only one I haven't read, I'd go for one I liked on a previous readıng, The New Life. As I ummed and ah-ed making this choice the assistant who'd pointed me to the right section said "Actually see that man who's just come in? That's him. You could ask him to sign the book if you like." Which I duly did...

Getting (things) done in Isntabul

2009-08-17T15:45:00.003+01:00

Currently getting a couple of visas sorted here. First is the Iranian, and I'm starting to feel a little more optimstic with this one having met a truck full of overlanders who've aquired 20 out of the 23 visas they applied for, although to be fair they wangled them as an 'academic trip'. Still, getting the applicaion into an agency on another browser window right now.

The other visa is for India... just got ****** by the good old British FCO on that one. £63 for a 'Letter of Recommendation' that took all of five mınutes to produce. My ****ing gov't (and I don't just mean the politicos here) are a bunch of mercenary gits. Anyway, should get the Indian vısa on Frıday at which point I'll get on the road agaın. Spent far too much time here drinking with backpackers, overlanders and Aussies. Actually it's been good to have some company rather than just ranting to myself all day. Could do without the hangovers though. Also met an Aussie/ Canadian couple who are cycling from London to Austrlia and a fellow Brit, Rob, on his way to Japan after being made redundant. Now Rob I'd come across by reputation earlier in the trip as a few times people told me about another English long distance cyclist who'd inevitably passed through a day or two beforehand. Good to finally meet the chap!

In other news got conned by a taxi driver today on my way to get shafted by my own gov't (had to grab a cab to get there durıng theır short opening hours). When I went to pay the driver palmed the 50 I'd given him and showed me the 5 he said I gave him. Now a 5 and a 50 look quite similar and I was in a hurry so I chucked him 'the right money'. When I counted it later I realised the con... still, he took me for less than HMG!

Snakes!

2009-08-14T20:15:00.001+01:00

As I was strolling back to my hostel this evening I came across a local TV crew doing some filming. I was intrigued so took a closer look. It was a young lady in a box being slowly filled with water and snakes... she was locked in and had to dual into the water to get the key to free herself. Each time she did so water and snakes flowed over the top with the later attempting to slither off to safety. Alas, no matter how many keys she tried she couldn't free herself! Oh no! The drama! The horror!  Until out of camera shot a crew member slid the key down the water pipe to her that is. By this point I was laughing out loud. Unfortunately the photo does not do this spectacle justice.

Sight seeing in Istanbul

2009-08-14T18:13:00.001+01:00

Busy day of touristing and doing bits and bobs. Still in aquire suitable maps but I have located a good bike shop (thanks Rich!) and done other chores.  And sights wise got an unexpected bonus in the shape of a pod of dolphins playing by the bridge I was crossing.

On the road into Istanbul... nightmare!

2009-08-14T09:00:00.000+01:00

If you read my Facebook status updates this will be old news. If not then for the record cycling into Istanbul is not a pleasant experience, involving some 40 km of dual and treble carriageway of fast moving aggresive traffic, long steep hills and when I did it stiff winds.  If you're contemplating it I recommend nerves of steel and pulling a right straight before the airport. Personally I'm putting the bike on a ferry or train to get out of here.

My last shopska salad?

2009-08-11T10:40:00.001+01:00

After a morning spent cycling up hills (what is the difference between mountains and hills btw?) I'm 10 km from the Turkish border. Time to take on liquids and have one last shopska salad which is a bit like a Greek salad only it's Bulgarian. And with less olives.

Forced to spend another day on a beach

2009-08-10T13:00:00.001+01:00

Life is hard. I'll try for Turkey again tomorrow as the rain has cleared. Just have to endure another day of chilling, sun bathing and beer I guess.

How I discovered I'd lost my waterproof

2009-08-10T09:02:00.001+01:00

I was intending to enter Turkey today, which involved about 100 km of mostly mountain. Got a little way in and now I'm intending to head back to the coast and try again tomorrow.

The Black Sea

2009-08-04T18:52:00.001+01:00

Been chilling on the beach today after the nightmare of going through Varna yesterday (the Eastern European capital of package holiday hell). When I got to the campsite they told me my mar was out of date and a lot of the other campsites had shut now... people wanted rooms now they had more money. I don't think that's the reason at all. I think it's Central and Eastern European habit of being loud annoying ****s playing music at top volume and getting shouting drunk until the early hours. Just a thought. Mind, they looked surprised when I crawled out of my tent at 2am and told them "For goodness sake turn that down". Note to self: stop being so English and tell them to **** off next time.

Vegetarian pizza Bulgarian style

2009-08-04T08:30:00.001+01:00

Finally of the course of the Danube after having followed it for about 3000km. A relatively quick and painless swing south and I'm onto the Black Sea coast. Had to get a room go the first place due to disappearing campsite syndrome (where they appear on the mar but not in reality - generally occurs after particularly long days in conjunction with rain). So. Got me a vege pizza! With, hmm, lemme see. The contents of a bag of frozen veg on top. That's baby carrots, broccoli, peas. It doesn't really work and to make matters worse the peas make everything else slide off. If I'd known I wouldn't have ordered the side salad.

Romania

2009-08-01T17:51:00.001+01:00

Crossed over to the Romania side of the Danube to see what it's like. Poor for accommodation (€53! WTF!) but good for cycling is what it's like! Very friendly people, not much motorisied traffic, good quality roads. Very very poor though, with abandoned and ruined collective farms and heavy industry still in abundance. Something went horribly wrong here and the people are still paying the price 20 years later.

Bulgaria

2009-08-01T17:31:00.001+01:00

Hit the first town and asked a kid the way to the tourist info office on my map. Kid said to follow him so I did. He then asked for money "for drink". At which point he ducked behind a car to throw up. He told me it was the drink that did that to him. And asked for money "for drink" again. I laughed and said no. He then showed me a property management 'office' and looked even more confused than previously when I said that wasn't what I was looking for. Then asked for money for drink again. I made my excuses and left. This did not endear the country to me although in retrospect maybe it should have. picture is of some quality road I went down.

Eurovelo 6 signs, Serbian style

2009-08-01T14:37:00.001+01:00

I've posted on the Eurovelo route signs before, and how I wasn't impressed with them in Hungary. Well, I've got to say they're a damn site more useful in Serbia. When they exist... Still, it was only on my last day of using them that I noticed the small print at the bottom. The first that caught my eye were where there was a choice of routes and gave advice about the different roads. Cool. So I checked out the next one... which said "No matter how far you travel you will not meet that girl who smiles out at you from the brochure". I was hooked after that.

Danube Gorge through the Carpathians

2009-07-29T17:55:00.001+01:00

Possibly the best days cycling ever, even with the worst hangover of the year. I've held off posting this for a few days as the photo as taken on my phone just does not do it justice. 100km of wow! Expect another post on this when I can upload proper photos.

Still in Serbia

2009-07-26T20:30:00.001+01:00

I had been planning on heading through the Carpathians on the Romanian side of the Danube but I've been enjoying Serbia so much I decided to carry on here. Decision was aided by new maps and the sudden realisation that I would be going through the series of 21 tunnels on a Sunday morning, hopefully with light traffic. Well that was the plan until some fellow campers with a bottle of rakee (homemade spirit, like grappa or Cretan raki) intervened and my early morning start dissolved like my synapses... still, twas a beautiful camp as the photo of the view from my tent shows!

Serbia... a land with abundant hedgerows!

2009-07-22T20:05:00.002+01:00

Plums, apples and herbs grow wild here. Can you tell what it is yet?

Why wild camping isn't really an option in Eastern Croatia

2009-07-21T10:13:00.001+01:00

No showers. It's hot and dusty!

Welcome to Croatia. And the edge of my comfort zone

2009-07-21T10:08:00.001+01:00

Let me explain. I've travelled some 2200 miles in the part six weeks, and in that time, aside from staying with friends I've been camping all that time... but now I've reached the area where just aren't enough campsites around to be able to reach them every day. This means getting rooms and that, for now, pushes at the boundaries for me. When camping when I reach the place I'm going to get a pitch (it's a mislabelled caravan park, or closed or at the centre of a festival of course). Now I've got to find a vacant room and speak foreign as well!

Mozzie attacks in Hungary

2009-07-17T11:32:00.001+01:00

Due to the recent floods here there are a lot of mosquitos about... more like clouds of midges at times. Over the past day coming down from Budapeast I've been literally covered in them a couple of times. Urgh. The picture is of a few of bastards waiting for me on the inside of my flysheet this morning.

Beautiful Budapest

2009-07-15T10:42:00.001+01:00

Currently spending a couple of days in Budapest. It's fascinating place and probably deserves far more of my time. I'm doing my usual mix of tasks and sightseeing... got a new compass and next map yesterday. The camping shop I tried, a Blacks or Cotswolds type place, amazed me by not selling compasses. Complete jaw on the floor moment. They directed me to the "old mans hunting shop"!

Food on the road

2009-07-13T18:31:00.001+01:00

Been meaning to do a post about what I've been eating but l think I'll need a proper computer to do it justice. In the interim I really want to recommend these instant noodles... they're so morish I just can't stop eating them! Wonder what the secret ingredient is that does it?

Whether to follow the book or signposts in Hungary

2009-07-13T11:56:00.001+01:00

I'm following the Euro-Velo Route 6 along the Danube at the moment and have been for around 1200km now. I'm using the Cycline Guides which are good but mostly supuflous when it comes following the actual path. Until I hit Hungary... a lot of the route is now unsigned and those that are in place don't inspire confidence. This morning they wanted me to go down a national highway - direct and flat I'll grant you but the book took on a beautiful, traffic free albeit slightly hilly route, as shown in the photo. Think I made the right choice even more so as two french cyclists I'd spoken to this morning came along as I've been writing this and described the road route, which they took, in very uncomplimentary terms!

Three countries, no borders

2009-07-11T19:24:00.001+01:00

Went from Austria through Slovakia into Hungary today with nary a passport cheque. Pic above is of the abandoned border post between Slovakia and Hungary. A bit of a spokey place!

A Mystery Resolved

2009-07-10T16:40:00.001+01:00

Over the past few days the bike has developed an annoying and worrying regular "ticking" sound when I cycle. Annoying as I couldn't for the life of me find the cause, worrying because sounds like that can be the harbinger of something important and expensive breaking, like the bottom bracket or the frame... I checked all I could starting with cables then checking the frame and anything else I could think off. In the end I took it to a bike shop in Vienna. The mechanic had a test ride then took it into the workshop. He emerged 20 minutes later after checking the bottom bracket and greasing various components. Had it gone? A quick test ride showed that alas it hadn't. Then came to the conclusion it was the cheap pedal I'd put on just before setting off... so nothing major after all, just a bloody annoying noise for the next x thousand miles.

An Austrian health drink

2009-07-07T13:02:00.001+01:00

Nothing but apple juice and a little yeast. Must be good, the guy who made it was 70!

Mauthausen

2009-07-06T20:45:00.001+01:00

Went round a concentration camp today. 123000 human beings lost their lives here. Some were gassed with Zyklon B, some hung with wire from an iron beam, some shot in the neck in a special machine that adjusted the height for a perfect neck shot every time, some worked to death in the quarry, some starved to death. Came away very angry... Choose this picture of a sculpture there as it best summed it up. This is why we fight the BNP and their ilk. Never again.

Austria

2009-07-06T07:14:00.001+01:00

Slipped into Austria without noticing whilst running from a thunderstorm yesterday. Danube now going through some beautiful gorges as the picture from the campsite tries to show!

Last night in Germany?

2009-07-04T18:32:00.001+01:00

Danube flowing in background. Dinner cooking in foreground. Rain lashing down all over. Wine safe in tent with me! Not a bad day though, thunderstorm only started after setting up camp so made 65 pleasant miles. Should be in Austria tomorrow if this lets up!

Leg 5, Strasburg to Regensburg

2009-07-03T14:23:00.002+01:00

Thurs 25th June to Thurs 2nd July, 426 miles

Been going through Germany of late, but not that fast. Let me try and explain... The first day I spent heading south around the Black Forest (have a look at a topographical map: it's hilly!). The second day I was lined up to shoot across it with just one section of brutal climbs, maybe five, six kilometers max. When I say brutal I mean 1 in 10. For five kilometers. On a dirt track...Let's be honest, I knew I could never climb it all with a fully laden tourer but I figured I could do half a mile on, half a mile of pushing, half a mile on. I gave myself an hour to make the climb. And it was working! I was maybe 4km in when the rain came. Did I say "rain"? I mean full on thunderstorm. Full on. Torrential downpour, massive lightening strikes roughly every minute or more less than a mile away (during the height of it less than a second elapsed between lightening and thunder). I'd started in 30C hot humid sun and was soaked through. Temperature dropped to 15C in five minutes and stuck there. I left the bike 100 yards away and got wet further down the track (it's a large lump of metal OK?).

Eventually the ligthening died down, although not the rain, and I made a brake for it (and I mean brake) back down the hill... no way was I pushing on and I'd passed a hut some half a mile before. Made it to the hut and huddled under the eaves until the lightening which had started up again was a good two miles away. That took the best part of an hour. I was not in the happiest of spaces.

Ended up back where I'd started at the bottom of the hill some three hours later, with the option of going along a major road artery with no hard shoulder or on the train for 11km. Tell you what, them German trains are great...

It was still raining the next morning which lead to me packing a soaked through tent in the pissing rain. I still wasn't in the happiest of spaces and was contemplating getting a hotel. As soon as I found one... the first was full, but soon after the rain stopped and I risked camping again. Miracle of miracles the clouds cleared and I began to dry everything out. Made it onto the Danube cycleway the next morning but my legs had taken a beating from the attempted crossing. Still aching now, almost a week later and I've not been able to do the 70 mile days I was doing before. Hopefully today's rest day will sort that out.

Weather wise the temprature has been 30ish for the past few days with minimal effect on me which bodes well. Unlike the situation in Iran which does not bode well at all... looking into either going via the 'stans or flying over :(

Leg 4, Paris to Strasburg

2009-07-03T13:31:00.002+01:00

Weds 17th June to Tues 23rd June (inc one rest day), 374 miles

Started off from Paris with a murderous hangover. Fortunately getting out of Paris proved to be quite easy. A series of good days saw me heading out through the champagne region and then towards and through towards Verdun. This was a major area of conflict in WWI and cycling across miles of undulating countryside one could how it would become a bloody battlefield of mass carnage, degenerating into a series of pushes for ridges. There were various momuments to the fallen, a few WWI battlefields left as memorials, the trenchs, bunker complexes and shell craters still visible in the ground. Also far too many war cemetaries of the sort I'm sure you've seen in photos or on TV... staggeringly long lines of identical back to back graves holding a large part of a generation. Sobering. All very sobering. By the time I reached Verdun I decided that I didn't want to visit the fortress there but ploughed on instead.

After crossing through I ended in up in Metz, where I took a quick rest day... that day I'd been planning on doing about 50 miles but ended up having to plow on an extra 25 miles when the campsite I was headed for turned out to be a caravan park, no tents allowed... grr... by the end my knee was hurting like hell so I took a day to explore Metz. It then took a couple of days to reach Strasburg, my final taste of France.

France had been fun. Great country for cycling, where people went out of their way to be bike friendly (UK take note you bunch of miserable car loving scrotes!) and just generally friendly. Lovely food as well, my god do they now how to do bread!!! Downsides... Firstly and most importantly, no pubs. Try them, you'll like them but sorry, the bar tabac just ain't the same. Secondly, closing times! Country shuts down for lunch and sundays. Lastly, cycle path signing was poor, very poor. Thank goodness for the compass. Mind you, they know how to sign and do a good campsite.

This stage was also the start of a series of kit failures. First to go was the air bed which picked up a puncture that gaffer tape could not hold (the shock!), then the compass started to develop an air bubble and the burner packed up (not ideal when you're in a campsite in the middle of nowhere, have just done 70 miles, only have dried food and NEED TO EAT!!!). More on these later when I do my kit reviews.

Rest day, Regensburg

2009-07-03T09:47:00.001+01:00

Clean bike, swap tyres round for the first time to even out wear, check tyres for stones, check brakes, clean chain and lightly re-lube. Next on list laundry, get rid of mildew then tourism. Tip for the day: having trouble getting tyres to 90 PSI? Lightly oil the piston in the pump.

Hops = Beer

2009-07-02T19:32:00.001+01:00

Beer = Good

On the Danube way

2009-07-01T20:22:00.001+01:00

Nice and warm, getting the miles in. I'm a bit surprised at the quality of the markers on the trail though... there should be some sort of historic hunting lodge around here...

Getting to grips with the local customs in Barvaria

2009-06-30T18:01:00.001+01:00

The biergarten... not 5k into Bavaria as well. I had to stop for a cheeky lunchtime drink really,didn't I? Besides, it was 31°C out there and we've already established that hops based bevearages are a type of health drink.

The Danube cycleway

2009-06-29T16:44:00.001+01:00

I'm going down the Danube now for the next 1500 or so until the Black Sea. Started off with a day of beautiful limestone cliffs.

The Black Forest

2009-06-27T07:53:00.001+01:00

Caught in a thunderstorm going over a high part of the Black Forest. Spent half an hour 'sheltering' as lightening struck in a one mile radius... When it died down I high tailed it back to a hut I'd passed where I spent at least as long again waiting for the next lot of lightening to pass. Lost the photos as phone external memory packed up soon after taking a shot (wonder why?). Instead here's one from this morning. Doesn't do the hills justice though!

Au revior France, guten tag Deutschland!

2009-06-25T09:58:00.001+01:00

This is about the border twixt the two. In Germany now, planning my route to the start of the Danube. In Strasbourg it was as if there was nothing to the East of them in terms of available maps! Smallest scale was 1:300 000, very bizzar!

Rest day in Les Andelys

2009-06-24T15:29:00.002+01:00

Sunday 14th June 2009

In the normal course of things it might have been too early for a rest day but I needed to give my knee all the help I could and Les Andelys was perfect for it as well. I took a stroll up to the castle, broke my main pair of glasses and cursed the french for their closing on Sunday habit...

France had proved fantastic so far. The scenary was beautiful, food great and people wonderfully friendly. Particularly to cyclists: people kept waving at me from cars, one chap slowed and clapped and two piss taking bastards with a trailor offered me a lift up a hill I was plodding my way up at one point.

Leg 3, Le Havre to Paris

2009-06-24T15:01:00.002+01:00

Thurs 11th June to Sat 13th June, 121.4 miles covered

I managed about five hours of uncomfortable sleep on the ferry, which is about par for the course I reckon. Cyclist were first off and away I went, into France! Yay! First stop, get some money (argent... Boris Hunt's French lessons weren't wasted after all!). On finding a cash point (er... le point de cash?) I was amazed to find that since my last visit France had stopped using francs and moved to the "euro". Whatever next one wonders?
Got cashed up anyway and pausing only to pick up a fresh baguette (see Britain? That's the way to do bread!) I got lost in the bad part of town: how did I know it was the bad part you ask. Was it the signs of urban deprivation, subtle graffiti marks, types of vehicles? Well, partly. Mostly though it was the motorist stopping and telling me, first in french then in broken English that I waz not in a good place and I should go that did it. Found my way soon after and headed out of Le Havre using the bike route provided by Via Michellin. Which took me along 10 to 15 miles of dual carriage way along an industrial zone. Fecking A. Eventually came to the end and was told by a chap in a car not to go down the Michellin avised route but to go a little further then right. Which took me onto a cycle route exactly the way I wanted to go! No more Michellen!

The next day, as my knee was still painful in the morning just did 23 miles to a campsite in Rouen. I had planned to take a rest day there but having taken a look at it decided one night was more than enough.

On the last day of this leg I tootled along to Les Andelys, a beautiful little village with a picture perfect castle atop it. The knee lasted a good 20 miles without a twinge so seems to be on the mend.

Leg 2, Bristol to Portsmouth

2009-06-24T14:12:00.003+01:00

Sunday 7th June to Wednesday 10th June, 138.4 miles covered

Finally got on the road again, hoping that the time off and the exercises had done the trick. For a lot of the first day it seemed they had, but after some 20 miles the knee started to play up, until I was walking 2 miles and riding 2 miles alternately. Left me at a pretty low ebb all in all, having made 36 miles in the end. Still, the weather behaved itself which was something!

The next day my knee was throbbing with pain even before I got out of bed. I started off walking up Devizies locks, stopping in Devizes itself to get bread and cheese for lunch. I then actually tried cycling. Not good. Not good at all. Sat down at a country pub, had a couple of pints "from the barrel" and contemplated my options, which seemed to be quit and get public transport, try to heal the knee again or quit the whole thing and look for a job. Decided to head for Pawsey, the nearest rail station after speaking to Helen on the phone. Decided to gurn for a bit to exercise slightly different muscle groups then somehow dropped into using the heel of foot rather than the ball... and this hurt less... I made the 15 miles to Pawsey then out to Wilcot where I stayed at a campsite by a great pub, The Golden Swan. I'd made almost 20 miles...

With my new cycling technique I was able to limp 34 miles the next day, albeit with rests at Woodhenge, Stonehenge (as detailed in the earlier post) and a pub outside of Salisbury where I had a couple of pints of Lemony Cricket. Seemed to do the job.

On the last day of the leg I covered the 48 plus miles to Portsmouth, albeit in shozery rain and with my knee not in any great comfort but I was blowed if I was giving up! Thank goodness for pubs, ideal resting posts and I'm convinced the beer helped with the knee. The 400mg tablets of ibuprofen and the pressure bandage may have helped but mostly I think it was the real ale wot done it.

Mmm, cake!

2009-06-20T09:54:00.001+01:00

Or in this case hazelnut meringue! One of the great thing about cycling 6 hours a day is you can eat what you want. Apart from people. Apperently there are still laws about that sort of thing although Germany might be different. We'll see...

Through the Champagne region

2009-06-19T11:49:00.001+01:00

Apparently they make some sort of fizzy grape pop here.

Au revior Paris

2009-06-18T08:47:00.001+01:00

Left Paris yesterday, which I found surprisingly easy in terms of traffic and cycle lanes. Did my first 60 plus mile day for a while and will be hitting Champagne, the region, today. Also possibly the drink..