Getting ready for the Bamboo Route - Shanghai to Singapore

Leaving home in about six weeks, and there are still tons of things to do. A few more visas, another couple of injections, getting the Silver Fox Asia ready, practising the GPS - although I suspect it will not be as useful as in Europe where the maps are highly detailed - and various other bits and bobs. And then trying to ride each day to prepare for the adventure ahead which has some BIG days slated.

I'm still thinking about what 146km and 170km mean in humidity and possibly not on asphalt surfaces. I once rode 160km in a day and had to be rescued by my son as I couldn't go any further. We did have three consecutive days on the Amber Route of about 145 each, and it was hot. I know I was mighty glad to reach camp on the last one, swearing as another hill approached when all I wanted was a shower and a cold beer. I actually got a hot beer - TDA had purchased some but left them in the sun - and a hot shower and a tummy-full of food. This recovered my good humour. I see here we have 7 days straight to begin with covering 825km - that will require much of my patience and a virgin outlook on myself, my abilities and TDA.

I have found getting fit less than an attractive option due to cold and/or wet and/or windy weather. Also I am naturally lazy I think. Give me a 17 - 25 degree day, breeze maybe, blue skies or clouds and I'm ready to go. Also give me a riding buddy to keep me honest. Getting motivated solo isn't easy when there are books to write, dogs to care for, soup to make - and eat, and so on and so forth.

Here is an outline of what we are to expect during our 90 days
(arranged as day number, date, ride day number, from, to, kms)

CHINA

 1 Sun 22-Sep 1 Shanghai Jiaxing 108

 2 Mon 23-Sep 2 Jiaxing Hangzhou 101

 3 Tue 24-Sep 3 Hangzhou Yiwu 130

 4 Wed 25-Sep 4 Yiwu Guodong 101

 5 Thu 26-Sep 5 Guodong Quzhou 133

 6 Fri 27-Sep 6 Quzhou Shangrao 122

 7 Sat 28-Sep 7 Shangrao Wuyishan 130

 8 Sun 29-Sep REST DAY

 9 Mon 30-Sep 8 Wuyishan Shaowu 84

 10 Tue 1-Oct 9 Shaowu Lichuan 88

 11 Wed 2-Oct 10 Lichuan Guangchang 99

 12 Thu 3-Oct 11 Guangchang Ruijin 139

 13 Fri 4-Oct 12 Ruijin Wuping 143

 14 Sat 5-Oct 13 Wuping Meizhou 123

 15 Sun 6-Oct REST DAY

 16 Mon 7-Oct 14 Meizhou Longchuan 113

 17 Tue 8-Oct 15 Longchuan Heyuan 95

 18 Wed 9-Oct 16 Heyuan Huiyang 108

 19 Thu 10-Oct 17 Huiyang Shatoujiao 65

 20 Fri 11-Oct 18 Shatoujiao Hong Kong 0

 21 Sat 12-Oct REST DAY

 22 Sun 13-Oct REST DAY

 23 Mon 14-Oct FERRY TO MACAU

 24 Tue 15-Oct 19 Macau Kaiping 146

 25 Wed 16-Oct 20 Kaiping Chunwanzhen 107

 26 Thu 17-Oct 21 Chunwanzhen Cenxi 147

 27 Fri 18-Oct 22 Cenxi Yulin 103

 28 Sat 19-Oct 23 Yulin Lingshan 118

 29 Sun 20-Oct 24 Lingshan Quinzhou 109

 30 Mon 21-Oct REST DAY

 31 Tue 22-Oct 25 Quinzhou Dongxing 100

VIETNAM

 32 Wed 23-Oct 26 Dongxing Mong Duong 145

 33 Thu 24-Oct 27 Mong Duong Ha Long Bay 50

 34 Fri 25-Oct REST DAY

 35 Sat 26-Oct 28 Ha Long Bay Hanoi 156

 36 Sun 27-Oct REST DAY

 37 Mon 28-Oct 29 Hanoi Ninh Binh 122

 38 Tue 29-Oct 30 Ninh Binh Ben Sung 123

 39 Wed 30-Oct 31 Ben Sung Dien Yen 95

 40 Thu 31-Oct 32 Dien Yen Tay Son 117

LAOS 

 41 Fri 1-Nov 33 Tay Son Na Hin 125

 42 Sat 2-Nov 34 Na Hin Thakhek 149

 43 Sun 3-Nov REST DAY

 44 Mon 4-Nov 35 Thakhek Savannaket 116

 45 Tue 5-Nov 36 Savannaket Ban Xenouan 122

 46 Wed 6-Nov 37 Ban Xenouan Pakse 124

 47 Thu 7-Nov 38 Pakse Muang Khong 135

 48 Fri 8-Nov REST DAY

CAMBODIA

 49 Sat 9-Nov 39 Muang Khong Stung Treng 94

 50 Sun 10-Nov 40 Stung Treng Kratie 170

 51 Mon 11-Nov 41 Kratie Kampong Chan 117

 52 Tue 12-Nov 42 Kampong Chan Phnom Penh 136

 53 Wed 13-Nov REST DAY

 54 Thu 14-Nov 43 Phnom Penh Khampong Thom 170

 55 Fri 15-Nov 44 Khampong Thom Siem Reap

 56 Sat 16-Nov REST DAY

 57 Sun 17-Nov REST DAY

 58 Mon 18-Nov REST DAY

 59 Tue 19-Nov 45 Siem Reap Sisophon 104

THAILAND

 60 Wed 20-Nov 46 Sisophon Mueang Sa Kaeo 105

 61 Thu 21-Nov 47 Mueang Sa Kaeo Chachoengsao 118

 62 Fri 22-Nov 48 Chachoengsao Bangkok 0

 63 Sat 23-Nov REST DAY

 64 Sun 24-Nov 49 Bangkok Hat Chao Samran 52

 65 Mon 25-Nov 50 Hat Chao Samran Hua Hin 55

 66 Tue 26-Nov REST DAY

 67 Wed 27-Nov 51 Hua Hin Prachuap Khiri 118

 68 Thu 28-Nov 52 Prachuap Khiri Khan Bangburd Resort 129

 69 Fri 29-Nov 53 Khan Bangburd Resort Lang Suan 155

 70 Sat 30-Nov 54 Lang Suan Kapoe 101

 71 Sun 1-Dec 55 Kapoe Kapong 141

 72 Mon 2-Dec 56 Kapong Ao Nang 127

 73 Tue 3-Dec REST DAY

 74 Wed 4-Dec 57 Ao Nang Trang 146

 75 Thu 5-Dec 58 Trang La-Ngu 108

MALAYSIA

 76 Fri 6-Dec 59 La-Ngu Kangar 112

 77 Sat 7-Dec 60 Kangar Sungai Petani 121

 78 Sun 8-Dec 61 Sungai Petani Penang 42

 79 Mon 9-Dec REST DAY

 80 Tue 10-Dec 62 Penang Taiping 112

 81 Wed 11-Dec 63 Taiping Ipoh 103

 82 Thu 12-Dec 64 Ipoh Teluk Intan 107

 83 Fri 13-Dec 65 Teluk Intan Kuala Lumpar 0

 84 Sat 14-Dec REST DAY

 85 Sun 15-Dec 66 Kuala Lumpar Port Dickson 65

 86 Mon 16-Dec 67 Port Dickson Melaka 75

 87 Tue 17-Dec REST DAY

 88 Wed 18-Dec 68 Melaka Batu Pahat 110

 89 Thu 19-Dec 69 Batu Pahat Koti Tingga 151

 90 Fri 20-Dec 70 Koti Tingga Singapore 108

                    

Toulouse to Barcelona

Doorway Toulouse

Pont Neuf Toulouse

Guide books describe Toulouse as the pink city. Reddish, certainly, but hardly pink; granted, a lot rosier than France's more northern cities. Life was hot and slow it seemed. A lot of ice cream and watermelon eating along with Saturday morning shopping. Unfortunately I stayed in Toulouse a little longer than expected due to a 'tummy upset' which resulted in me catching an afternoon train to Carcassonne to join the crew and my cycling buddies. Both Sally and Katherine left us in Toulouse so we are somewhat diminished in number.

Carcassonne new city

Carcassonne sports a new city as well as the hilltop UNESCO listed site of the original city begun in the sixth century. It was a hot and crowded place to be so we walked back to the new town and enjoyed cool drinks in the principal square.

 

 

 

Riding out was pleasant enough. We travelled along the Tour de France route to Nebias, bunting in the jersey colours hanging through streets as well as newly paved roads. Apparently the locals like the Tour as the roads do get upgraded. Pleasant as I said until the climbing began. My almost two days with little to eat meant I struggled all day. Stewart nannied me into camp after dousing me with cold water from a community laundry sink. What a great idea - communal laundries that is. A sweeping view of the valley, a cool down in the pool and a good sleep partially restored me for the next day of climbing, but not enough.

In a gorge, Pyrenees

Puicerda railway station

At around the 65km mark Linda flagged down a battered old van and we gratefully shoved our bikes in the back and watched the climb progress as Monsieur and his two children and shaggy dog chattered and talked in the front. Actually, dog did no chattering at all. When he dropped us off we still had 35kms to go to camp. Just as we pondered our fate, Mick walked into us. How fortuitous. So then it was in the back of our van to Puicerda, a welcome relief and a good spot to view the cruel magnificence of the Pyrenees.

The next day was slated at 140km. I didn't even attempt it. I was told the views were stunning as the last remaining five riders hurtled up and down and along precipitous roads with no barriers. Even if I could have done the climbs, I could not have done the downhills as I would have been frozen in terror. The train trip to Vic only took an hour and a half and sure beat the exhaustion, stress and unhinged effect it had on 3 of the 5 riders who rolled into camp near 7pm. What an endurance test this so called cultural ride for fun turned out to be. I have never given up before but I was well and truly beaten by the route over the Pyrenees. Planning 140km rides in late August is close to lunacy I expect. I have lived and learnt, to say the least. And so it was for our ride to Barcelona. We climbed into Vic and caught the train and enjoyed a fantastic ride through Barcelona to our hotel from where we alighted from the train at Arc de Triomphe. Only four riders rode the whole ride. Good for them but a major disappointment for the rest of us.

 

 

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Oh la la

From Brugge we trained it to Bayeux on the Normandy coast. Bayeux as you know is home to the famous eponymous tapestry which I enjoyed immensely, even though it is really an embroidery. Thankfully the good ladies who stitched it had the sense to number the panels, making it very easy for modern audio guiding to occur. Looking at Halleys comet as depicted in 1066 reminded me of staring into the night sky in Ballarat, hoping for a glimpse, before falling into the fishpond as a flash of comet sent me stumbling forward.

I rode to Arromanche and along the D-Day coast as well. Arromanche was in full memorabilia mode and even staged a ceremony at 10am. I think it may occur most days during tourist season. One pretty fishing village, Pot de Bessins, sported a fish market and loads of fisherman mending their nets on the quay. The harbour was well protected and it was clear that the tides must be in the five metre range, judging by the high-sided harbour walls.

There was a plethora of campervans vying for road space so pretty soon we left the coast and headed inland in search of calvados. We found what we were looking for. After small and tasty samples, we settled on a couple of bottles of pommeau, an aperitif. When Maureen toppled off her (stationary) bike we were more concerned about our cargo, and it was left to a local woman to pick her up from the roadway. Fortunately the bottles remained intact as did Maureen.

Cycling through romantic stone villages with gardens tumble full of roses and summer profusion has to be a chief highlight of my life. Normandy has much to offer the visitor keen on Arcadian views and tasty food and drink. One of our best rides of the trip was from Bayeux to Caen, where we caught a train to Tours. Caen boasted a vibrant market so it was baguette and rabbit terrine for lunch as we clackety clacked along.

We also made a trip to Paris. A highlight also. We walked our legs off and managed to complete a circuit of Eiffel Tower, arc de Triomphe, Champs Élysées, Galleries Lafayette, Pigalle, Montmatre, Sacre Coeur and Notre Dame. We piled onto our TGV to return to Tours happy and weary and enjoyed a fantastic dinner in a little Tours cafe. Even Ruby couldnt finish the THREE GIANT profiteroles stuffed with ice cream and chocolate sauce.

Not the profiteroles

Then it was on the bike again for the Loire Slogfest. Not many people would cover 240kms in two days but we did, the last in blustery strong head winds and intermittent rain. If you should do this ride, begin further east than Tours and don't ride past Angers. Scenery, chateaux and food is better further up the valley. Of course we had no time to actually visit any chateaux, just sped past and hardly even managed a photo.

Next stop is Toujours. Tout les hours, in fact.

 

 

 

 

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Into the land of lace and beer

Raining of course, but what's new, as we cycled across the unmarked border into Belgium. We were riding on a fulsome canal heading into a fierce wind and avoiding the hardy locals out for an amble, admiring the sheep, most with tails, ajisting on the steep canal banks.

A swan family

We spent a morning admiring a Dutch village name Veere. It was once an old seaport but the dike built across the sea to its west has now reduced it to a harbour for expensive yachts. The village had once been a fort, cannons standing ready to shoot down marauders, and two churches of grandeur ready to bless all troops and aristocrats. One church was bigger than St Patrick's in Melbourne. This seems to be the pattern. Small villages with huge churches. The geometry stuns me as I look upward at their soaring spires and towers.

Cat in a Veere window

We cycled across some amazing feats of engineering on our day riding to Kamperland, urged on by the screeching of gulls. Three large dikes, one of which was approx. 8 kms long, all have multi-lane roads as well as adjacent roads for bikes and scooters. My sense of vertigo prevented me from looking down into what others described as the roiling sea around the concrete pillars. The 1953 flood caused the government of the day to rethink its approach to the sea which has resulted in these expansive concrete and steel dikes. A story board assured me that no environmental damage resulted from the construction.

Belgian farms are different again. The farmhouses look more like ours, small and not part of a house-barn complex. Pairs of vases dominated the Dutch windows. Here there is not the same attention to symmetrical detail. Charolais cattle graze the ample pasture and the redolent barn smells of Germany seem to have been left behind as more and more animals are free-range as opposed to being in barns on a permanent basis.

Now to Brugge. What a storybook city this is. There are more fancy pants buildings per square centimetre than anywhere I have ever been. Horses and carts carry tourists to and fro. I was particularly taken by the Jack Russell who sits all day beside his mistress, wagging his tail and looking for all the world as if this is the best thing a dog can do all day. Last night we witnessed a two-horse one car pile up. A horse bolted, tossing its driver off and probably terrorizing its passengers, a family of four out for a nighttime gallop. All ended well enough. The cafe restored its chairs and flower boxes that were knocked over, the driver, a young woman, regained control of her horse after having been thrown out and chasing it down the cobbled street, and the family climbed back in, presumably to continue their tour.

Horse in Brugge

We have strolled the streets, sampled the chocolates and beer and enjoyed a Flemish lunch at a local cafe. Barges and boats cruise the canal that circles the old city. Cars dart in and out avoiding pedestrians and cyclists on the cobbles. I found this city hard to ride through and so have tied the Silver Fox up until we arrive in France.

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Into The Netherlands

We pedaled across the border and immediately noticed differences. Language for one. I was a bit at home in Germany but have no grasp of Dutch whatsoever. It seems that most Dutch people though have a fine grasp of English so it is proving to be very simple to obtain food and drink and most anything else, but of course, the latter two items are our main preoccupation.

Dutch farms are both similar to and yet very different in style from the German model. Bricks and mortar with tiled or thatched roofs, an expansive barn or two part of the arrangement. Flowers in abundance out the front and veggie plots boasting onions, cabbages, beans and the odd tomato plant encased in its own small plastic greenhouse. I have enjoyed peering into the picture windows of the Dutch farmhouses onto country kitchens, comfortable sitting rooms with an abundance of cushions and books in shelves. It seems this may be a country of readers judging by a couple of comments and the plethora of bookshops I have noticed so far.

The plots of land boast a conglomeration of animals all housed together; some sheep, a cow or two, goats, chooks, deer, ducks, donkeys, geese, short-legged pigs and horses. There are also a breed of cattle I have not seen before. They have rounded rumps, stocky short bodies and rather solid heads. They are a little like the Limousin, muscled and strong in appearance.

We enjoyed a several hour wander round Zutphen, an old and important town dating back 1000+ years. See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zutphen for more information.

Riding along the canals has been fun. Speed is possible, especially with a tail-wind. I found myself channeling Michael and Brian as I sped along into Amsterdam. There are so many bikes in this city. Another huge bike park close by to the central railway station.

We strolled through both the green and red light districts. Ruby was amused to say the least by the ladies in the windows. She thought I had made this story up. I am pleased to see they are now wearing tops and bottoms, maybe skimpy, but they cover all the bits people pay to see, different to when I was here 20 years ago with her mother who found it too much to bear. Funny idea isn't it, to put women in shop windows. They also have mobile phones to keep them occupied now, rather than as they used to, make eyes at the passing parade.

An extravagant dinner was enjoyed courtesy of Tinda, a local woman who hosted us in her apartment and put on a fulsome spread as part of Dining with the Dutch. Twelve participated and twelve came away stuffed like Christmas stockings. The food was delicious and the ambience perfect. We were pleased that yet another fearsome rainstorm occurred while we were under cover.

Liz is recovering and John is due to rejoin us in Bruge. Good news. Karen has left for home in Halifax and Linda has joined us from North Carolina. We are halfway through Coberamba.

Karen in flight

 

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It stopped raining in Prague...

A trip to Prague brought back memories of the few days Catherine and I spent there in 1993. Then it was cold and brisk, gypsies roamed around on alert for hapless tourists, and the premium entertainment was Blacklight Puppetry. Now the traders have moved in big time and the plethora of cheap and gaudy puppets, Bohemian crystal - not cheap and not always gaudy - painted enamelware and the usual claptrap of flags, fridge magnets, postcards and the like dominate the old town. It is hard to find a smoke-filled sausage shop selling dark beer peopled by locals. In fact, the only locals on display were hidden deep in the reside trial areas away from the hustle and bustle. A constant police presence ensured touts were kept at bay and Thai massage places had popped up everywhere including the little fish treatment to be had in full view of the passing parade along Wenceslas Square. Highlights for me this time were seeing it through Des and Ruby's eyes, wandering home along the river one evening and having a drink in Hotel Europa, still resplendent in its gloriously untouched secessionist or art deco, not sure which really, splendour.

Hotel Europa

From Prague we returned by train to Magdeburg via Dresden then onto our camping platz for the night before taking off westwards across Germany for four days of cycling, our first three in glorious sunshine. Perhaps even a tadge too hot for long days in the saddle over gravel, cobble, dirt, mud and paved cycle ways. Following Radweg 1 has been scenic, but hardly direct or easy at times. There have been hills and climbs aplenty as we have skirted the Hartz mountains; rivers and streams burbled by; and corn, wheat, oats and barley to keep us company in the farmlands. Many crops have suffered damage on account of the inclement weather of recent weeks and are unharvestable. The aromas of shed-kept cattle have been constant, doing battle with the enormous community silage repositories.

Camping at Hoxter

The Silver Fox

Our crew have been keeping us well fed and watered for which we are very grateful. It is lovely to arrive in camp to a cold beer and tasty snacks. Dinners are full of flavour with lots of salads and veggies. Yum. And we have dessert every evening too. Des visits bakeries and loads up on butter cakes of a solid German style, and tops them with berries sof all sorts. I fear I am gaining poundage regardless of the kilometres whizzing by under my wheels.

The trip has not been without drama. Liz fell on Saturday and is in hospital undergoing surgery. Maureen has had bad news from home. The weather has made some of us more fractious than others. To date we have covered about 1200 kms I think.

Munster is the most amazing place for bikes. I took the Silver Fox to the bike wash housed in the bike park, a huge hall housing thousands of bikes positioned close to the railway station. Apparently 40% of trips in the city are bike trips, and it shows in the amazing attitudes and infrastructure. I dream of such an approach in Melbourne, which I gather has just become the world's second bike city. When I mentioned this to a German man a few days ago he fell about laughing. He had been to Melbourne you see.

The Silver Fox gets clean

Bike park

 

It seems that we are still dogged by bad weather. Rain is ever threatening. There was a sudden and long lasting thunderstorm two nights ago which wiped the sweat from our brows and the smiles from our faces. Let's hope we might find blue skies and paved paths in Holland.

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From behind the former Iron Curtain

Some of you may be wondering what is happening to us deep in the German woods. One thing I'm sure Is that I saw a wolf cross the road - grey, large, careless gait. Problem is I saw it only a kilometer or two from our camp which is, surprisingly, situated deep in the woods. It is Beside a lake, or 'Am See' as the Germans say. We prefer to say 'In See' however, as it still has not stopped raining.Oh for a dry day.

Trabi broken down at Brandenburg To

The locals say we have thunder and lightning ahead until at least Prague. Having purchased an umbrella in Berlin I feel ready for anything on foot but the large navy blue cloak I bought at bicycle heaven is cumbersome, and sorry to say, not stylish. I want to throw it off forever, but it keeps me dryish, always good.

Pretzel bike

We are also writing to Angela Merkel as many of the radwegs seem to be more appropriate for teenage mountain bike riders rather than old age pensioners battling the wettest summer in Germany since cocky was an egg. Unfortunately we did not have the letter ready in Berlin as we passed her parliamentary offices where we could have hand delivered it. Damn.

Bears at Torgau

Berlin is as lovely and under construction as I remember. We cruised down to Kreuzberg and took in the notice 'YUPPIES AUS' before settling into a bar and ordering up on the beers. All sorts dwell there. We might have gone clubbing but opted for the tapas bar instead. Contacts have been made for Barcelona. Yum!

A gem was had by conversing with Frau in Bad Schmiedeberg who after telling me she had lost 20 kilos after the death of her husband - no, I am NOT suggesting anything - took me to meet the pastor who showed us into his church. The 'high'light was climbing the tower and viewing the village below.

Two brown bears in the former moat of the Torgau Schloss amused me. One stretched out in the few rays of sun that escaped through the rain clouds, one leg propped up on its cave. It seemed a good place to keep bears, but their significance was somewhat lost on me. Apparently there have been bears in Torgau since the 1400s. Nelson thought they may be grizzlies, but that seemed a trifle remote.

Eat your heart out in Belgram

If you wish to tune out of the metrics, do so now.

Sunday 8 July Copenhagen to Ystad: 72 kms, bright sunshine, TITS 3'55

Tuesday 10 July Ystad to Trelleborg: 53 kms, grey, head wind, spatters of rain, TITS 3'06

Wednesday 11 July Rostock to Krakow am See: 80 kms, rain and showers, TITS 4'30

Thursday 12 July Krakow am See to Waren: 58 kms, rain, rain and rain, lovely lunch of home-made tomato soup, TITS 3'53

Friday 13 July Waren to Himmelpfort: 103 kms, TITS 5'58, serious rain with extraordinary stretches of mountain bike riding trails. We needed to rescue Nelson, Gloria and Bob who took a wrong turn.

Saturday 14 July Himmelpfort to Berlin: 76.5 kms, 4'09 TITS, serious rain again so caught a train in from Orienberg.

Tuesday 17 July Berlin to Radigke: 118 kms, 6'38 TITS. It took 2 1/2 hrs to ride the 15kms out of Berlin. The rain stopped at Potsdam and the rest of the ride was in sunshine with a headwind. Lovely to see the sun and get out of the plastic. A great little camp ground with Herr getting us a crate of local beer to wash away our ride.

Wednesday 18 July Radigke to Rotta: 48kms, 2'56 TITS. Wolves nearby - I'm sure I felt one circling my tent during the night. I woke to a woodpecker searching for breakfast. Great day's riding.

Thursday 19 July Rotta to Torgau: 64kms, 3'18 TITS. NO RAIN AT ALL WHILE RIDING! Who cared about the strong winds.

Friday 20 July Torgau to Moritzburg: 90 kms, 5'11 TITS. Some time along the Elbe Radweg then a deviation onto Moritzburger Weg through small farms, towns and woods which opened out onto a large lake which held the reflection of a stunning castle.

 

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