Wheels on Fire: THE 2014 EUROPEAN BIKE RIDING AWARDS

As you know, traveling through countries other than your own, whether it be by bike or more conventional means, brings inevitable comparisons with one's homeland to the forefront. In my experience, the more one travels, the less comparisons are made about objects - think public transport, rubbish collection, the price of this and that - with more focus on how locals go about their daily lives, what the politics of the day is doing to them, and how they respond. Which brings me to the first award, that of civil disobedience.

art protest, Strasbourg

Kurdish protest, Strasbourg

France, after all, would not be France, if the streets were not the stage for demonstrators to shout their cause and thrust their banners. On our arrival in Strasbourg, we were privy to two street demos - one about disappeared Kurds, the other about funding for a public arts space. Different protests, certainly different protestor demographics, standing and chanting only metres apart. And then of course the wildcat strike that left us stranded in Marseille because ferry operators needed to press their cause. Democracy at work. But in the home of democracy, Greece, even though beggars dot the streets of Athens, beds crafted from cardboard and old blankets and riot police with semi-automatic weapons line Syntygma Square, the people were not protesting anywhere about anything, except in private about the cuts to pensions, the high unemployment and the stagnation of the economy. Perhaps the Greek government's response over the last few years has left them too battered and too weary to indulge in the street politics that brought death and depression to their country. But despite all this, the Greeks win hands down for food.

Our best meals were had at a shabby but spotlessly clean taverna perched above a stony beach at Charamida on the south coast of Lesbos. Grandma in the kitchen, grandpa clearing tables, son serving and daughter-in-law taking orders, while Maria the curly-haired four year-old treated us to winning smiles. Grandma's cooking is sublime. Delicately stuffed zucchini flowers, tzaziki zesty with herbs, baked stuffed eggplants, hand-made fish croquettes, salads and more, glorious more. No dish more than five euros. Cold Fix beer served in iced glasses, complimentary watermelon to cleanse the palate, and even more surprising, passable wine and ouzo. (Grandma asked us to take her to Australia. Her pension had been reduced to 400 euros a month. She would make a killing if the business licencing administration, food-handling and OH&S regs didn't get her first.)

Grandpa and young Maria in Taverna Charamida, Lesbos

On the topic of wine, the best - nothing else even came close - was the Nierstein riesling. What a drop. It is worth visiting this village just to sit in a shady Weingut courtyard and sip whatever the waiter suggests. You can of course wander the village, eat good Italian gelati beside the Rhein at Eis Morano, and fill the belly with a finely cooked schnitzel after a bike ride through the countryside.

tractors take guests on a wine tasting ride around Nierstein's 50 Weinguts

Of course Germany also wins the bike riding award. Beautiful vistas, well-marked paths, variations in gradient and surface enough to keep every rider happy regardless of experience and ability. Oh, she cries, why can't the rest of the world be like Germany. Zipping through woods, climbing hills on the Weinstrasse and zooming down into picture-book villages where a Konditorei or two might offer slabs of apple cake or black cherry tart. Perfect, as our friend Michael from Mannheim would say.

view over Heidleberg

Maggie and Barb on a woodland path

Why not France for the food, wine and bike riding awards I hear you ask. Well, we had our worst meal ever in France, an inedible mash of something purporting to be a fish pie served with a few scraggled leaves of wilted slimy lettuce. Wine - definitely good, but because our purchases were mainly supermarket-sourced, I guess it couldn't win on those grounds alone. And bike riding, even though it's the home of Le Tour and Phil Liggett always paints superb word pictures as the chopper flies low over picturesque landscapes, cannot win either. See my previous letter to M. Hollande. I need say no more.

But is does win the soft cheese and bread award. German bread is of course up there - thick and wholesome, sturdy and businesslike, but the French baguette reigns supreme. As do the creamy blues, the washed rinds and the hard chunks of unpasteurised dairy pleasure.

So what about poor old Italy? Tomatoes that taste like sweet bombs from heaven, so delectable that the palate cries out, 'More, more!' Great handmade pasta for sale that only needs a touch of oil, garlic and Grano Padano - sublime.

fresh pasta shop, Pula, Sardinia

Italy also wins the crowded, hot, inhospitable for pedestrians, riders and drivers village award. Where were the town planners when places were re-built after WWII? Not in Sardinia, and certainly not in Sicily. I'd like to think that the spatial relations skill of Italians is better developed as a result of squeezing through passages narrower than an average hallway, but the bashed in sides, fronts and backs of cars speaks otherwise. But road rage? Nowhere. Maybe the odd horn, but nothing shouted or threatened. Patience always won out.

On a similar theme, it is hard to decide on the recipient for the Acts of Random Kindness award. Several times in Italy strangers drove us, lead us, helped us, as they did in Greece. Germans were always smiling and helpful, as were the French. What beautiful manners. No abusing people on public transport because they cannot speak the language.

Nor is there any abuse meted out to our canine friends. But on balance, the street dogs in Greece seem to have it made. They may look unkempt, but they are well-fed by supporters and seem to find the coolest spots to stretch out and catch a nap. The Italian dogs were leaner and keener on packing and barking up an argument. Not so with the lumbering giants of Greece, great Collosi striding the doorways and cooling vents and laying beneath fans wherever they could be found.