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| The Reichstag, the start line. Berlin. What a beautiful city. A cyclist's city. And what precedence two wheels has over das auto; the perfect way to start a bike tour with two friends I met in Brazil. Additionally, it was a test for my new Genesis Croix de Fer. |
The first official night of the tour couldn't have been any more different in comparison to the four nights prior to my departure spent in a Berlin hostel. These were spent gorging on kebabs in the Turkish quarter and drinking beers by the banks of the Spree. This first official night was spent trying to get some sleep on a ferry bobbing on a very choppy Baltic Sea, from Poland to Sweden. I was not a happy bunny.
We left Berlin in the early hours of the morning, dodging the numerous tram lines. It wasn't long until we hit the forests north of the capital. At one time we didn't leave forest for 15 km, however none of the infamous Berlin wild boar were sighted.
The North German Plain was the perfect way to lead us into Poland, it's hard to imagine that these lands were subject to WW2's bloodshed. Within 100 m of crossing the border the silky German roads abruptly ended and were replaced by the potholed roads of Swinoujscie. It was from this port town that we barely caught the 9pm UnityLine ferry to Ystad, Sweden. I had totalled 215km, without clipless pedals and cycling shoes, sacrificing efficiency, which was not a wise choice.
Following approximately 1 - 2 hours of sleep on the ferry, we arrived to a chilly, overcast Sweden, where we hastily cooked up some pasta with pesto and where off again. We rode for approximately 60 km through the sparsely populated, rolling agricultural lands of southern Sweden till we rolled into red bricked Malmo. From here we took the train over the Øresund Bridge into Copenhagen, where we set up camp in a central camp-site, followed by a brief tour of this beautiful, yet costly, city.
The North German Plain was the perfect way to lead us into Poland, it's hard to imagine that these lands were subject to WW2's bloodshed. Within 100 m of crossing the border the silky German roads abruptly ended and were replaced by the potholed roads of Swinoujscie. It was from this port town that we barely caught the 9pm UnityLine ferry to Ystad, Sweden. I had totalled 215km, without clipless pedals and cycling shoes, sacrificing efficiency, which was not a wise choice.
Following approximately 1 - 2 hours of sleep on the ferry, we arrived to a chilly, overcast Sweden, where we hastily cooked up some pasta with pesto and where off again. We rode for approximately 60 km through the sparsely populated, rolling agricultural lands of southern Sweden till we rolled into red bricked Malmo. From here we took the train over the Øresund Bridge into Copenhagen, where we set up camp in a central camp-site, followed by a brief tour of this beautiful, yet costly, city.
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| Little Mermaid, Copenhagen. Following a well deserved sleep, we left the city and started to eat up the miles. The roads down Denmark's Zealand island went as far as the eye could see, and before we knew it we hopped off the bottom of the island, back onto German soil where we rough camped, precariously hidden from the nearby main road. |
Thanks to the flat northern German topography, it was not long until we rocked up early to a hotel-turned-hostel in Hambourg, where we took advantage of an early night sleep, helped along by the drone of the local Straße. The next day we woke relatively late, and made our way into the centre. A lovely city to cycle through and coincidently there was a bike fair on, where we saw a carbon bike, weighing in at a ridiculously light weight, far from the other end of the weight spectrum, where our ladened bikes stood.
Back on the road again we ate up the kilometres, where for 3 consecutive nights, we roughed camped, the third night below sea-level 30 km outside of Amsterdam. The next day we were in a hostel in central Amsterdam getting a well deserved shower. Here we took another day off, touring the canals and visiting cafe's (not that kind...honest).
The next day was the Hoek van Holland sprint, 80 km to get the 14:30 ferry to Harwich. A feat which we failed to achieve. Alas, we took the 21:30 for the overnight ferry, the best sleep of the trip.
Back on Old Blightly's soil it was a short trip to Chelmsford for a night at a friends house. Then from Chelmsford through a rough (to say the least) East London to Buckingham Palace, the trips finishing line.
Total - 1500 km over 9 days
Back on the road again we ate up the kilometres, where for 3 consecutive nights, we roughed camped, the third night below sea-level 30 km outside of Amsterdam. The next day we were in a hostel in central Amsterdam getting a well deserved shower. Here we took another day off, touring the canals and visiting cafe's (not that kind...honest).
The next day was the Hoek van Holland sprint, 80 km to get the 14:30 ferry to Harwich. A feat which we failed to achieve. Alas, we took the 21:30 for the overnight ferry, the best sleep of the trip.
Back on Old Blightly's soil it was a short trip to Chelmsford for a night at a friends house. Then from Chelmsford through a rough (to say the least) East London to Buckingham Palace, the trips finishing line.
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| Her Majesty's house, the finish line. The Croix de Fer's first run in. |
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