16,779 thank you’s! :D

Posted on April 8, 2012 by

Almost exactly a year from when we first started this bike trip, I’m sitting again in Mumbai International Airport, with my bicycle. I think that means it’s time enough to round up the year’s events and count the pennies. And what pennies they turned out to be. After some publicity in Ireland and Canada as we arrived home, the final total you donated to Room to Read on our behalf stands at a whopping $16779 cdn, smashing our target of raising $1/km cycled

Having just returned from an inspiring visit to a Room to Read school in Nepal, I now feel I can wholeheartedly say an enormous thank you for what you helped to achieve. From Pete and I, thankyou for your support, encouragement, and financial commitment to keep us motivated on those grunty days. More importantly, from the children whose education and opportunities in life have genuinely been turned around by those pennies you donated.

To be honest, as a family who have witnessed the raw end of charity fund distribution in Botswana, we’ve tended towards a little cynicism and caution when it comes to making charitable donations. That was why we spent considerable time choosing Room to Read as a charity we could wholeheartedly support, who are using those funds wisely to really make a difference to the little lives they help. A few days ago I was privileged enough to visit their office in Kathmandu and a local school supported by the Room to Read Library and Book Publishing program.

I could bang on for pages about the beautiful children’s books they publish (before their involvement in Nepal a children’s book written in Nepali was almost as elusive as the snow leopard), the funding strategies for school libraries to encourage local ownership and involvement, or their work to stop the trade and rehabilitate young ‘kamlari’ girls, sold by their parents as domestic workers as young as 8 and so denied any access to education at all. But you’d be better to visit their website or contact Room to Read themselves for a more eloquent description of their work.

Far more powerful for me was actually meeting the people involved on a local level. Seeing the light in their eyes as they discussed the projects they work on, and the genuine enthusiasm of local teachers who beyond treating me like an honoured guest and longlost relative, could barely let me go for descriptions of their innovative projects: in house water purification via electrolysis, veggie gardens and modern inclusive teaching methods. Needless to say the children were a delight: bright, bubbly and brimming with questions!

As the details of our journey fade a little with time, a gentle glow remains which I hope will never fade. A sense of fulfilment that we helped make a little difference out there, and of appreciation for all the warmth and generosity, of spirit as well as resources, from so many people who helped us along the way. You all know who you are, we can’t say thank you enough.

And judging by the grins on their faces, those kids were pretty grateful for their new story books too!

:D

And a news round-up for those who’ve been wondering:-

I lost my camera in Mumbai so sadly no photos of that special school visit, or the spectacular days walking and cycling in the hills and villages of Nepal. Unfortunately, Poppet (my bike) was also left behind in Mumbai. Qantas wanted more than she was worth to bring her to New Zealand with me so she’ll stay there and be shipped out for my next trip. New Zealand has been good to me, so good that I’ve accepted a job offer here starting in July. So I’ve got a couple more months of surf and work lined up in West Oz and Indo before a return to Blighty to gather my skis (and some family, friendy fun and hugs I hope….all stowaways welcome!) for a winter or more in NZ. Poppet might have to wait a little while :) (as you have for this post…i did start writing it in Mumbai in December!)

Pete is currently working as an emergency nurse in Tumbler Ridge, northern BC and enjoying plenty of fluffy white snow, icey climbs and domestic bliss with Sig this winter! His fundraising efforts have continued, with a BC speaking tour, he’s already presented on the bike trip at the Vancouver International Mountain Film Festival. In April, he is presenting in Tumbler Ridge and Dawsons Creek. If you are interested in hearing the presentation, please get in touch with pete – pete@oneearthphotography.com.We have currently raised enough money to fund 3 classroom libraries and we are now trying to raise $2 for every km cycled to build 6 libraries…we need $23696 cdn so please keep on donating!

We chatter on skype as much as poss….and the words bicycle and trip have definitely cropped up together in the future tense more than once. I guess that means our arses are now fully recovered!

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And now, the end is here…

Posted on July 5, 2011 by

A full 24 hours back in Co. Donegal and it still feels a little surreal to be sitting here in our family living room looking out over that achingly familiar yet constantly adjusting vista of Donegal Bay. Surreal, but oh so very good!

The last 7 days from Wales and finally into the hallowed hills of Ireland have been a heady build up of fond welcomes climaxing in a truly unforgettable arrival into Donegal town last night.

One of the unexpected benefits of cycling slowly through the UK and Ireland has been the opportunity to connect with family and friends who we would usually visit all too rarely, and some we’ve never had the pleasure to meet before! Each time we’ve been showered with good food, booze, comfy beds, hot showers and long gossips. All those things we knew we missed but perhaps didn’t realise how much we craved. Of course, there’s been some cycling (and rainy, windy days!) too, but they’ve altogether paled into insignificance against the evening shenanigans!

ahhh the first guinness

The shenanigans went full throttle at Flannery’s in Dublin where wonderful crowd donated over E1000 to ‘Room to Read’ with the irrepressible assistance of our auctioneer James Fegan and storming band Proudfoot. Pete and I were feeling pretty sensitive on the bikes the next day for the first stage of our ‘family tour’ to Donegal. With a warm send off from Phoenix Park, the cycling felt so much easier with biggest brother Kev, and Dad for company, and mum manning the support vehicle. Even better that two local cyclists, Tom and Doreen, were able to lead us out of town far better than we could ourselves!

Arriving in Dad’s birthplace, Carrick-on-Shannon, we were treated to another warm welcome and send-off from a rarely-visited but fondly remembered branch of our enormous extended family. At every stop we’ve been showered with the kind of warmth, good wishes, and generosity that we’d really missed after 6 months in the company of only ourselves and foreign strangers. Having the company of other cyclists for brief sections was a real treat, particularly to be joined by the budding cycling talent of our cousin, Conor Brennan for a day to the beautiful Rosses Point.

And so, our final night on the road. We splashed out on a plush hotel in honour of our parent’s looming 40th wedding anniversary and felt thoroughly rested for our final 70km into Donegal. So much so that I couldn’t resist a quick lunchtime swim at our favourite surf spot of Bundoran on the way through.

We were met by a great posse of Donegal cyclists for the final few familiar hills into Donegal town. What a pleasure to be a part of such a happy, interesting peloton for our final 30km! And the pleasures kept unfolding. First, a little crowd of McCaffertys & co. complete with bonfire, welcome signs and champagne gave us a few minutes celebration after our final climb . Next, our nana and family complete with loud hailer met us not far out of town. We were blown away with all the fuss, and it was only just beginning. Uncle Paul turned off the loudspeaker (for a sec!) to prep us for what was to come…and I’m ever grateful that he did or I wouldn’t have held back the tears with all the surprises in store.

First off the Gardai appeared to check our ‘Donegal visas’ (!) and provide our first FRIENDLY police escort of the trip, complete with flashing neeeeeenaaaaaaw for the final stretch! Next up the mayor and local favourite, Everton footballer Seamie Coleman appear for some photos and handshaking. With all the cameras and crowds it felt a bit like being back on duty as the ‘only blonde in India!’, only a lot more fun this time! Finally the town marching band led our lap of the Diamond with real aplomb before some fantasy champagne-spraying and, in case we were thinking of turning back for India, a feast of samosas from the local curry house.

 

 

 

A brief slide show reception at the Abbey hotel and a few pints didn’t help our motivation for the final 5km to our family home in Mountcharles village. But we got our heads down in preparation for the final final hill, a steep little ascent up the driveway. None of us wanted to finish the journey pushing our loaded bikes up the drive and fortunately, despite the beers, we didn’t have to, but only just! We had been treated to one of Donegal’s warmest sunniest days of the year but, as if to remind us of our good fortune, the heaven’s opened as we stored the bikes in true Donegal style.

We haven’t given ourselves much of a rest before heading back to work (and play!) but these couple of days feel all the better in the after glow of this incredible welcome. To describe it as a hero’s welcome would imply a certain heroic feeling on our part. I don’t think either of us have ever felt like heroes on this journey but we were certainly made to feel like them by the wonderful people of Donegal town. We will never forget this wonderful end to our dream trip.

We’ve raised a total of $ 10,202 so far, only just short of our pledge to raise a $ for every km cycled. A huge thanks to everyone who has donated, your donation will really help change lives for children who really need the help. We are still accepting donations, just click on the donate button to right of screen. Pete will be doing several slideshow presentations in BC this summer, dates/location will be posted when available.

At every stage of this journey it has been the people who’ve really made it so memorable and enjoyable. There are too many people to mention here but to everyone who hosted us, supported us and welcomed us along the whole way. THANK YOU! We couldn’t have done it without you.

Final Geek Fact:

km cycled: 11,848 (Pete)

km cycled: 11,306 (Keara – a little cheat across Greece to catch my buddies!)

Pete’s multi-trip Km cycled – 24,848 km

$ raised so far for Room to Read: $10,202

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Back in Blighty!

Posted on June 16, 2011 by

It was kinda hard getting back on the bikes after 3 happy days beaching and boozing with the family. But we slowly dragged our sorry arses out of our Frankfurt ‘home-from-home’ (thanks wonderful family Klier!) and back onto the ‘Romantic’ section of the Rhine cycle trail.

Always full of surprises, it seems the Germans do ‘Romantic’ remarkably well. The steep, vineyard covered valleys, dramatically precarious castles and timber framed towns proved a welcome distraction from our ‘daily grind’.

Sadly, being a pretty big ole river, the Rhine does a fair bit of wiggling around. So, as we sat out yet another thunderstorn in Koln we realised we weren’t going to be following the Rhine to Rotterdam and reaching Blighty in time for our goal…’The Surrey Hills Music Festival’. Decision time!

It wasn’t easy to leave the navigational safety blanket of the Rhine but we manned up and decided to head to the suburbs and across to Belgium for the Oostende ferry. We needn’t have worried about the navigation. These ‘Euros’ really have something to show off with their cycling infrastructure. It felt like bikes not cars got precedence on the streets as we cycled out of Koln.

It didn’t take long to reach Belgium across all this flatness but we quickly wished we’d chosen another route. I was really hoping I could avoid dredging up cultural stereotypes on this one but I can’t. I’m sorry but Belgium is just really really boring! Endless miles of flatness, headwinds, dreary boxy architecture and disinterested people. Bizarrely it seemed hard to find an open shop, toilet or pub. But if you wanted chips from the numerous ‘friturs’ or bread from a vending machine at midnight, this is the place to go! No wonder this is the first country we noticed an obesity problem. In their defence, the canal town of Ghent is a gorgeous mini Venice, and they have some storming livestock gracing their fields so there was the odd pleasant distraction.

finally pete finds some PB !

As usual, things were taking a little longer than expected so we found ourselves with a 170km hoof to reach the ferry in time for our deadline. We weren’t best pleased to find a sign reading ‘NO FOOT PASSENGERS’ when we arrived at the ferry terminal at midnight. We camped in a dingy slag heap and turned up early for the ferry hoping to beg a ride from a van driver. It turns out this isn’t much of a passenger ferry so there were only 2 vans to choose from at the check in area.

Our first choice, a high sided, long wheelbase transit refused to help as he was full. Looking at his wheel arches we didn’t think he was lying either. Our next choice, a Lithuanian with 10 scrap engines in the back took a little while to convince. We had to pull out our best British accents to convince him we wouldn’t create any hassle with the immigration guys. Oops! But he agreed and much relieved we settled our bikes in the back of the van to board the ferry.

Waiting our turn to mount the ferry ramp some blue lights scream past, then a police van pulls in front of us to block our boarding path. We look around and realise we’re the only vehicle left waiting to board. Gulp! These fellas are here for us. A British voice appears at the window to ask some confused questions ‘are we together’, ‘do we know the white van’? No and no, but it might take a little convincing on that front as we’d been seen chatting to all involved. We unloaded the bikes, let them poke about the van and were finally allowed on our way.  It transpired that the white van we first asked for a ride housed a container with 3 illegal Chinese immigrants inside. The UK Border Agency had 5 of their finest waiting for us at Ramsgate for a full search of the van. Fortunately they found nothing and finally we could go our separate ways from the Lithuanian. I don’t think he’ll be helping stray cyclists again in a hurry!

the first english sign we see !

And so, finally, back on familiar soil, and with a familiar smile (thanks Golders!) to meet us off the ferry. England tried hard to test my commitment to her green and pleasant land over the next few days. She sent hours of lashing rain, some decent headwinds, busy highways and a pothole or two. And a broken rear derailleur hanger to my cycling buddy Sam one fortunately pleasant evening. Good to know that Poppet can handle all my gear and an 80kg bloke balancing on the back through the North Downs lanes! But still, nearly a week off the ferry and I’m delighted to be home.

Somehow none of this matters when there’s good friends, food, beds and even a bath at the end of the day. Oh, and the best pubs that the world has to offer to break up the cycling too!

Check out our amazing online charity auction at www.r2rcharityauction.org Bid for the chance to win an ipad, icebreaker gear, luxury cabin stay, whitewater rafting trip, ziplining, yoga classes ….and Pete’s cycle shorts. Auction ends on June 24th at 1pm. All proceeds go to http://www.roomtoread.org/

Geek facts:

km cycled so far: 10953

km to go….not that many now!!

no of British choc bars eaten by Pete – 7.8/day and he’s still skinny

no. 0f cycle tourists ashamed by the Vancouver hockey riots – 2

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Les Alpes!

Posted on June 3, 2011 by
I was expecting to be able to fill this post with tales of stoic grimacing and creaking knees as we hauled ourselves over this epic range. Maybe the rose tinting has hit extra early but I’m a bit disappointed to report that it all felt quite a lot like fun. Poppet (my bike) had a few words to say about that though!
We traded stories with a couple of French cyclists in Venice who were just staring their journey to India. Taking their advice we island hopped west out of Venice to avoid the reportedly hideous traffic north of the city. Finding ourselves on a peaceful canal-side bike path we stuck with it, and ended up at Lake Garda. Time to bite the bullet and start heading north into the hills we quickly came across another mellow bike path. After months of noisy traffic and crazy drivers this peaceful cruising along lakes and through forests on perfectly smooth tarmac was hard to leave. So we didn’t!
We entered the Adige valley, bordered by dramatic granite peaks and kept on pedalling. Soon enough the first climb started over Reschen Pass, a beautiful Austrian region full of tinkling cowbells and the odd lederhosen. First pass completed we swept into Landeck and Poppet decided to protest with a broken chain. No big deal when you’re in Europe and all that’s required is a lazy lunch until the bike shop opens its doors again. A bit of TLC, tinkering and a new chain and we’re feeling confident for the second and final pass at Ahrlberg.
I guess Poppet was still feeling unloved, she soon started to protest with an ominous clicking and pedal wiggle. Good excuse for another lazy lunch in the beautiful ski resort of St Anton. This time it’s a broken bottom bracket and it ain’t getting better on it’s own. But it’s good enough to reach the pass in time to admire the view with a beer and photo shoot at our final ‘big hill’ of the trip.
Another hole in the wallet and lazy lunch and she’s finally good to go again. Heading west to pick up the Rhine cycle route we passed along the Swiss Lake Bodensee and tried hard not to bankrupt ourselves at the extortionate Swiss prices. Having visited France plenty before we had planned on crossing into Germany and cycling the East bank of the Rhine. It didn’t quite work out that way, France beckoned, and it was lovely to try out our rusty French for some pain au chocolats and 3Euro wine along the west bank.
We cruised up the Rhine (getting the idea yet?!) and into Frankfurt to meet Dani, Oliver, two fabulous warmshowers.org hosts who instantly welcomed us into their family, and onto their trampoline with their two young sons. I’m pretty sure our bikes were happy enough, stashed away with 3 recumbents, an HGHSI and collections of other bikey toys I reckon they shared  a tale or two!

Charles, Pete's operatic companion from the Greek leg, joined us for this section. He's very handy with a bit of fishing line!

Meanwhile, we hopped a flight back to Greece for our cousin’s wedding. A chance to catch up with the family, shower regularly and laze on the beach as well as the usual wedding shenanigans. And an extra shenanigan or two! Pete’s attended a fair few weddings in his professional career. He’s certainly never witnessed the bride, groom, and ushers splashing into the sea from the top table in all their finery. I suspect it wasn’t entirely unplanned, but I definitely hadn’t expected to be collateral damage…ah well, it was getting hot anyway. Definitely our kinda wedding!
And so, with fond farewells, we returned to Frankfurt for the final phase…not long now! :)
km cycled: 9866km so far!
Charles Wenner joined us on this section and is fundraising for “Grandmas,” a wonderful charity that helps kids with Aids in India and provides safe houses for child prostitutes If you´d like to donate, please contact us for their bank information.
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Blissing out with Pete too….?!

Posted on May 24, 2011 by
Now that blog title I didn’t expect. And I’m sorry that this is starting to get tedious. But it’s just so blimming pretty around here!

It took a few days for us to get back into the swing of things. To find a happy balance between enjoying all the goodies that Croatia has to offer whilst still making some progress, and not destroying our budget. We got there, via some beautiful campsites, dramatic islands, fresh mussels and a couple of ‘big days’. OK, so maybe the happy balance still teeters occasionally…Pete’s guts still produce some unholy stenches, and I’m still a woman!

Trying to describe these couple of weeks would amount to little more than a list of all my usual superlatives, over and over again. You’ve read all that already so I’ll let the photos do the talking and you can find your own words!

We said fond farewells to Croatia’s twinkling waters and crossed the border into Slovenia. It had been a tough climb to get there but the rolling green hills and quaint villages were more than worth it for me. Even though the scenery brought on definite pangs of homesickness! Slovenia is 64% forest land. I am definitely coming back. Pete was nonplussed, I guess that’s what happens when your home base is BC in all its magnificence! No border shenanigans these days, not even a cop as we crossed into Italy and a glorious downhill all the way to Trieste.  An ocean-side pasta and prosecco to celebrate led to some dodgy night riding and slim pickings on the camping front. I suspect we’ll have to get used to that!

Keeping our heads down into yet more headwinds we made it to Venice, or as close as we can afford to sleep, a campsite at Punta Sabbioni across the lagoon from this famous city. The first time we’ve had to pay for camping since we started this trip. But, after 10 days without a shower,  it’s worth every penny! There’s no doubt Venice deserves everything said of it, except that it smells. It doesn’t, at least not while we were there. St Mark’s Square was flooding but no nasty sewer stenches even in 30degree heat. For me, the joy was in all the places I didn’t expect: the ferries, surrounding islands, and church floors as much as the usual tourist sites.

Again, I’ll let Pete’s photos do the talking…he spent 3 days shooting!

Next stop, the Dolomites! :)
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hostage crisis in Albania

Posted on May 17, 2011 by
by Pete
We’re safely back together, and in beautiful Venice, but here are a few tales from my days in Albania….
Crossing the border  felt like I’d travelled back a few decades, the road turned to gravel and remained that way till surande.  Derelict buildings were everywhere, some obvious relics from recent communist days, others looked as if the bank had just pulled the plug on the project. I also encountered the most dubious of police roadstops and that includes all those in Iran, Iraq and Pakistan. I sped around a corner 5 km after the border and there were 7 men all standing around a landrover looking very bored . It looked as if they had stopped for a picnic ..or fix a flat …who knows so I sped past them. As a I whizzed past, I noticed one of them was wearing a flak jacket with a pistol on his hip and one little badge on his shoulder saying polizia. I was very tempted to just keep on going and play the dumb tourist, but he was armed so I stopped. What a weird police stop, the guy in the flak kacket was about 50 years old and clearly in charge but the rest of them were all wearing jeans, t shirts, trendy puma sneakers and were clearly teenagers. ….maybe this was “bring your teenager to work day” at the local high school ?

They were pretty friendly till one of them noticed the Greek flag on the back of my bike and got out his lighter to start burning it! They always tend to be alarmingly nationalistic near borders so I’ve taken my flag off the bob trailer until the intelligence level increases further up the coast …or I can find an Albanian flag.

all of Europe's old merc's end up here

As I was climbing up to the town of sarande, I passed cows walking down the middle of the street and others in the ditch eating garbage, I haven’t seen this since India ! It was election  campaign night in surande with a boisterous energy amongst the huge crowds that had gathered to watch the show, so I decided to forget about guerilla camping for the night and find a hotel.

um one of us isn't meant to be here

The dogs here seem to have all passed basic human interaction 101 unlike their greek counterparts, so I’ve been able to get rid of my dog defence system that I carried through Greece….stones and a tent pole!

gifts of olive oil for the deceased

My arse is starting to complain after 7000km of abuse. I’ve  replaced my old saddle with a  leather brooks saddle, v comfortable once they’re worn in….but mine isn’t yet, so it’s a little tender down there. I’ll spare you the details but I’ve found yet another use for duct tape !

3 hours up, 20 mins down

Biking up a steep narrow road near Dunnes,  I came across a lovely old lady. She was about 4 ft tall, dressed in black, walked with a wooden cane and was grinning from ear to ear as she walked down the middle of the road. Luckily, as I stopped she came in towards me, so traffic could now pass! We exchanged greetings and she kisses me on the hands and then the cheeks, a very affectionate woman was she. So I gave her a canada pin badge and fastened it onto her lapel. The more we interact, my nursing intuition tells me that this woman is mad as a hatter and has escaped from the old folks home. She laughs hysterically every 20 seconds and constantly wants to kiss me. She then notices my Albanian flag that was given to me in surande and starts trying to take the flag off the back of my bob trailer. I stop her and point her attention towards the nice pin badge I just gave her…..but she’s fixated on getting that flag at any cost. For about 10 minutes we go back and forth, me trying to shift her attention towards the pin badge and then she makes another lunge for the flag! After diplomacy failed, I get firm with her and attempt to walk up the hill, but she sits on my bob trailer ! I get off the bike and start laughing at the absurdity of the situation, I’m in Albania, being held hostage by a senile kleptomaniac on the side of a steep narrow road!!! She then stands up, gets the giggles and goes for the flag again. I’d give it to her if it wasn’t an important safety item, so I remove the flagpole and quickly bike away before she can pull any more tricks on me !!

my captor....oooh what a lovely smile!

Geek facts: including 2 previous trips, Pete’s now cycled 20,000km around the world! 
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Blissing out with Bex and Frank!

Posted on May 6, 2011 by
A couple of months ago two of my favourite people wanted to book flights to join us on their bikes for the Easter holiday. It was an offer too good to refuse! I guesstimated our projected Easter location and promised to be there, come hell or high water. Needless to say, my guesstimating ain’t up too much, and we were still a long way from Montenegro as their flight date loomed. Time for a bit of cheating I’m afraid, and for a few days it was looking like hell AND high water! 

Bex and Frank, with wine, on the beach....cycle touring as it should be!

A mad dash to connect to a ferry, which didn’t actually exist, so another hare race to the next port for a ferry which was cancelled. Things weren’t really going our way! But, as always, it came together, via a gorgeous day scattering the cruise ship crowds in Rhodes old town, and gawping around the acropolis in Athens.

Another gorgeous campsite in Kotor, Montenegro

Of course, there’d be no cheating for Pete, one of us had to keep up the pledge! So, we said fond, if hurried and slightly inebriated farewells in Athens and I hopped a bus to Albania. Naughty Keara! I was a little apprehensive about my first few days riding solo and it didn’t really help that we’d thoroughly cocked up the gear splitting. Pete ended up with my sleeping bag, I had his bike shorts, and neither of us had the tent poles. Oops! Oh well, a good excuse to find some cheap beds and couchsurfing instead of braving the still-nippy nights with just the tarp and no farting Pete to warm me up!

Croatia does pretty islands, sparkling sea and old towns extremely well!

I’d heard good things of Albania, and its people, but to be honest I found myself a little uneasy there. After the European sophistication of Turkey and Greece, Albania felt like stepping back in time, and space, to a simpler, bleaker, more austere land. People seemed a little suspicious of this lone female cyclist.

Having company means....I can take my top off on the hills!

Crossing the border into Montenegro was an immediate improvement. Quaint coastline, twinkling sea, quiet roads. My kind of cycling! And without worrying that Pete was waiting at the top of the hill I could chat with as many donkeys as I pleased.

I had a few days cruising the coast and checking out some routes and food/sleep spots for Bex and Frank’s arrival. The Montenegrins are sociable, relaxed and friendly folk. A huge cafe culture, and not afraid to press me, a passing stranger on a bicycle, into sharing some rakia at midday on a Monday. Great people, not so sure about their rakia!
Kotor calm

Bex and Frank landed safely with shiny bicycles and gear all present and correct. Thank God! Some excited chattering, bike fiddling and cream egg chomping at the airport then we’re soon on the road. Well, a little 20km of road to the nearest lake-side restaurant and comfy bed. Start as we mean to go on, eh!

Team Gimp!

The following day brought some stoic climbing up beautiful mountain roads while I discovered I’m actually starting to quite enjoy hills. Don’t tell Pete! But especially when the downside is as beautiful as this was…straggly villages, perfect coves, roadside wildflowers…this really is the life! We celebrated a good day’s riding with beers on the beach in the shadow of our conquered mountain.

Team Top!

...and bottom!

The beach beers progressed into a night on the town, and an early morning of red wine and much chatter. I might have broken Frank! Things were not looking pretty for him the following day but the good fella managed a coupla smiles between roadside vomits and even tolerated our uncontrollable giggling at his pain. It went from bad to worse as we approached the tunnel of doom. 2km of choking dust, spookily clattering fans and vicious driving, I could barely keep my bike straight, a lesser man than Frank would have sat down to cry!

Broken Frank!

It was worth every second of tunnel doom for the stunning view as we emerged from its spitting mouth. The Bay of Kotor. One of my new favourite places. Steep moutains drop into sparkling turquoise waters dotted with sleepy villages and a general atmosphere of utter calm. We couldn’t help but stop for a spectacular campsite and more great seafood.


We dragged ourselves from this oasis of peace and headed for Dubrovnik. I’d heard it was beautiful but this place is really something special. Cue more good food, wine, and wandering. We’d been hoping to catch a ferry here to a nearby island but again the ferry Gods defeated us so we had to hop a bus then ferry to sample island life, Croatian style.

Basketball in Dubrovnik old town...overshoot and you'll need a boat and harness to get your ball!

Hvar Island is a beautiful life to visit, probably a little tough to live, but folk have scraped a living from this stony landscape for centuries of lavender, olive and grape production. More recently they’ve managed to attract the swanky yachtsmen to their beautiful harbour. Oh yes, there was another great meal by the water here!

Giant noughts and crosses while stone clearing on Hvar?

We returned to Split for some more sightseeing, and glimpses of an evocatively traditional Easter mass. Croatia is staunchly Catholic, and judging by the number of  young priests here will remain so for a while yet. There was, of course, more great food and wine before fond farewells and I’m riding solo again.

Byebye Bex :(

Not fancying my chances on the speedy, shoulder-less, ocean-side mainland highway I hopped another ferry to the island of Brac. With intermittent rain I didn’t rate my chances for happy nights under the tarp so set up base in the small town of Supetar. 3 whole nights in one place. We haven’t done that since our deliberating in Lahore! I spent the days riding a happily unloaded Poppet in circles around this pretty island and the nights partying hard with some backpackers. The first backpacker boozing of the trip, I thoroughly enjoyed the happy melange of nationalities, ages and experiences at this laid back hostel. From freshman Canadians to a Vietnam vet, everyone had a tale or ten to tell and a local drink or ten to eagerly knock back.

Golden Horn beach on Brac

After climbing to the Adriatic's highest peak I didn't want to double back....but this was getting silly!

I finally ran out of roads, tracks and bulldozer lanes to cruise and dragged myself back to the mainland to meet 2 couchsurfing hosts in the gorgeous beachfront town of Makarska. With great company, an apartment and sea view balcony all to myself this proved a tough place to leave too. An invite to an afternoon Wine Expo and culinary extravaganza seemed a good excuse to spend a morning watching the royals do their thing. 

At the Dalmatia Wine Expo!

The Croatians really know how to live, an afternoon of beautiful wine tasting and scrummy nibbles was followed by a meal from one of Croatia’s top chefs. I couldn’t believe my luck! And all in the company of a happy welcoming bunch of folk, not averse to some rousing singing as the sun went down.

Granny's Prosciutto and Rakia

I tore myself away to ride to another couchsurfer 60km south in the industrial town of Ploce, halfway back to Dubrovnik where I hoped to meet Pete. Duje and his friends took me out to their grandparents village and instantly welcomed me into the gang, with a little compulsory imbibing. We spent the evening checking the quality of his grandparents huge vat of homemade wine, rakia and prosciutto and I discovered the Croatians like to sing even more than the Irish, and with even more rousing melodies. No need to worry about a language barrier when you can just join in the tune and dancing!

Wine...straight from the vat!

A miserable day of rain brought me back to Pete in Dubrovnik, and a crew of 5 French cyclists he’d met, sadly travelling in the opposite direction. Regardless, this is Europe, and it seems the road ain’t gonna be so lonely any more! :)

Viva Croatia!

Facts of the week….

Number of photos here by Pete: ZERO. Sorry everyone!
km cycled: 704km (ok, it was more than a week!)
total km so far: 7962km
NEWSFLASH!!
*DOUBLE YOUR DONATION IN MAY *
A group of Room to Read benefactors are matching all donations made in the month of May, including those made through our pages
These funds will be targeted specifically for girl’s education, something particularly close to my heart these days. You’ll all know I’m no feminist, if the car needs fixing you’ll find me cooking dinner while I rope some fella in to do the work, but this journey has made me so grateful for the opportunities I have thanks to the feminists who went before me. I never fully understood the intense restrictions, particularly on women, that exist in so many parts of the world. It’s got to change, and surely education is the first step.
So, if you can forgive my minor indiscretion, or instead can bolster faithful Pete in his fundraising goals, please think about donating NOW. We promise, barring any major disaster, we will be cycling into Donegal at the end of June so take this chance and double your money for the ladies!
GBP
EURO/DOLLAR
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