Where is Your Bicycle?

Arrival in Zurich - And Finally Some Snow

2012-02-29T14:19:00.000Z

We are the fortunate house sitters. We not only house sit, we house sit in great places where we are happy to spend time.

Now, we are in Zurich, Switzerland. This is a city at work, at play, and connected to the farmland at its borders. The house is in a residential neighborhood just a five minute bus ride from a busy and fun neighborhood and another 8 minutes by train from Zurich Hauptbahnhof - the central station. So: 15 minutes to downtown on public transport that runs extremely regularly and on time. Also, we are about a 15 minute walk from a farm where we buy fresh milk, eggs, and potatoes. Not too shabby.

During the cold spell here in Europe, Zurich got a few days of gentle, intermittent snow. And it was really cold. But we went for milk anyway.

Five minutes from home: farmland blanketed in snow (where kids have been skiing and sledding).

Zee pigs.

Hi pig!

The best vending machine ever invented.

Milk. Really good milk. The cows were in the barn, or there would be pictures of them, too.

More pig/snow action.

The city and the sun, viewed from the path by the woods. Can you see all the construction cranes? Crazy.

We also did a little walking through town, where the snow had more to contend with. The light was lovely, bleak, dramatic when the sun did come out for a few minutes. These are nice days.

Time to Catch Up! Again.

2012-02-28T16:23:00.000Z

Boy we are doing a bad job of being bloggers. The good news is, we're doing great otherwise. Both of us have been busy with our online work, so much so that we are (almost) turning away some jobs. There are only so many hours in the day. This fall and winter we were a little worried that this whole idea - working remotely while house sitting - was not going to bring in the kind of savings we need to be able to ride our bikes all summer again. Fortunately, things are looking better now and we have even started to tentatively plan our route.

So here is one more photo essay, a love letter to Sarlat, France. We spent six weeks in SW France, and were close enough to Sarlat to visit more than once. Don't worry, the next post will be about where we are right now rather than where we have been.

A cloudy and cold day, but full of lovely stone houses, mysterious passageways, and powerful high city walls. Thanks to Anthony and Karen for hosting us and letting us house sit for them while they were away.

The Ride to Town

2012-01-06T11:13:00.000Z

Where we are staying, there is a bike trail that goes all the way to Sarlat. This piste cyclable is about 12kms long and follows the route of the old railroad tracks which were removed and replaced with bike path. It is certainly winter now.

Lots of caves in this soft rock

There are quite a number of old castles and houses built right into the rock in this area

Definitely the coldest bike ride I have ever been on

2012, It Begins Again

2012-01-01T11:02:00.002Z

Well, Happy New Year. One month ago, to the day, we left our little Portugal perch for a multi-modal travel day that took us all the way to France.

Early on Dec. 1st, we took our last walk into town. Our first walk had been hot and sweaty and just six weeks later we were looking at frosty fields and wearing many layers, carrying our bags down into the valley and back up to town.

We waited anxiously for the bus, hoping we were at the right stop, that the website was accurate, and that the schedule on the locked office door was incorrect. The bus did indeed pull up, a few minutes behind schedule, and took us all the way to Coimbra, where we transferred to a bus to Porto. In the city we ate our rolls, cheese, and pears for lunch and then wandered towards where we hoped to find the metro stop that would take us to the airport. We had plenty of time, so when we did accidentally find the metro, we didn't go right away. Instead we walked up the long promenade where people were clustered and vendors were selling fresh, hot chestnuts. Porto is incredibly hilly, and we walked up away from the crowds and sat at a small cafe for a cafe com leite and a barley coffee, yum. I wandered into shoe shops and almost bought a pair of knee high, faux-leather black boots for 20 Euros.

The metro in Porto is lovely, much of it above ground once you're out of the center city, and now I have a new favorite metro stop - the Porto Airport. The Aeroporto line ends (terminates) at the terminal, with grass growing between the tracks. At the gate for our flight we tested our bags for size - Ryan Air does not quibble. You must prepare your boarding pass in advance or pay a fee, and it must be cut part-way across along the dotted line for easy removal. You have no assigned seat. If your bag doesn't fit in the test crate (and they test), you must check it for an additional 40 Euros (more than our two tickets cost, combined). We watched a young man with a small rolling suitcase lose his umbrella because it didn't fit in his one piece of luggage. Really? An umbrella? Little old ladies were instructed to stuff their handbags into their already overstuffed suitcases and a lot of frantic re-packing went on while we waited in line. We had shipped two boxes ahead, so our bags were within the limits.

After a chilly wait outside in line, we were shepherded like school-children across the tarmac and towards the plane. And yes, they do squeeze extra rows into those Ryan Air planes by making the space between rows almost non-existant. The seats do not lean back. But you cannot beat the price.

From the plane we saw glimpses of the Pyrenees, covered in snow and glowing slightly pink in the sunset. The north coast of spain looks incredibly bumpy and the west coast of France seems sandy. We landed in Bordeaux just after sunset and then waited for the shuttle bus to the train station - and then waited in traffic while trams, that do not go all the way to the airport, rolled by. We had plenty of time. Enough time to buy a couple of sandwiches and our tickets at the station. Once on the train, where we assumed we were free of customs and immigration, we had a harrowing few minutes while a fleet of police looked at our passports forever, wondering why they were making a phone call while looking at Joshua's passport, and then breathing a sigh of relief when they smiled, handed us the passports back, and walked on. Yikes, France.

We were collected by our friends Karen and Anthony, who are renting a house not far from the amazingly beautiful city of Sarlat. Our day ended with an hour plus car ride on dark, winding roads, and we slept like babies until mid-morning the following day. Multi-modal exhaustion.

During our two weeks with Karen and Anthony they took us around a bit to show us the sights.

This is the Dordogne River from the village of Domme

Domme is a very beautiful little town at the top of a cliff

We went to Sarlat-la-Caneda at night for the Christmas fair

where they had camel rides

Magical and spooky

And we went to the Chateau de Beynac and walked to the top

The Chateau itself was closed, but we got the idea

The traditional roofing material is rock, an almost completely lost artform

Then Karen and Anthony headed off to the US for the holidays, and we've had a quiet, productive couple of weeks here since then. Lighting fires to keep warm, going for frosty bike rides, and drinking lots of lemonade.

More on Portugal, and then we leave

2011-11-16T11:52:00.001Z

A month has gone quickly, even with little to do besides walk and work and take pictures of sunsets.

Same evening, yes. Kind of a special evening, but we get lots of good light up here. We finally had the kind of sunset light that makes the ridges stand out a bit.

a foggy morning that cleared up beautifully

and the grass is growing

Mostly, it has been raining. Really raining. It rains for a few days and then we get a day of sun, then storms and rain again. Today, right now, the sun is shining, so laundry is drying on the patio and I have an urge to get into town to buy some groceries and more yarn. The storms move quickly and everything is constantly changing. Now the field below the house is all green with fresh grass, as are the fields we walk by on our way to town. Everything has brightened with fresh green. And at the same time, it is clearly fall.

We walked into the village below the house to pay the water bill in the cafe, the only establishment that is not a home. The old road is too narrow for most cars, and it is beautiful. Small vineyards, olive trees, ancient rock walls, and persimmon trees covered in fruit. There are also a lot of dogs on chains, and they do a lot of barking.

In Oliveira do Hospital, where we do the shopping, we have a favorite neighborhood to walk through. Much of the town is more modern, but there's this little area that looks like this:

At the beginning of November there was increased interest in the house from potential buyers. The owner was expecting it to be a quiet season for Portuguese real estate, but it turns out she was wrong. Very wrong. The house has been on the market for two years, and now it has sold. I guess we did an okay house sitting job. For us, that means going somewhere else before the end of the month. We did some house sitting searches and even found something that we were sad to turn down, but settled on staying with friends instead. We'll go back to western France, closer to Sarlat this time, for about 6 weeks, and then back to Zurich and our bicycles! We both seriously miss riding our bikes. It's hard to imagine that I could be fonder, but absence has made my heart grow fonder of everything about the bike and the riding.

We pack up our lives again and ship out on Dec. 1st. Meanwhile, we've both been working a lot. The workstation has finally turned highly productive. We are getting gigs online and spend a lot of time in front of the computer, with a huge view to look out at.

I've also gotten back into knitting, and the awkward photography of myself that comes with it. Thanks to those of you who have ordered custom jobs, that is more fun that experimenting with no one in mind. Some awkward photos for your enjoyment (the knitting is available here):

Some things still ship from CA, because my generous sister is hanging on to the things that didn't sell last year. Other stuff ships from Portugal, and soon from France. I'm learning a new stitch, it's called brioche stitch and it is so hard. Whoever invented brioche stitch probably didn't give it that name (doesn't look like a brioche to me), and they were a spacial reasoning genius with a fascinating understanding of what yarn does when you loop it into itself over and over again. My first few attempts didn't go past one or two rows, but then I got going and make something that looked like this:

Brioche stitch is simply a reversible vertical stripe. So awesome. This experiment was ultimately a failure because I managed to twist it and the border was screwed up. But if you like stripes, I can now knit in stripes. And it is fun, after all. Here's another awkward test project, now belongs to Joshua but he won't pose for pictures wearing it (can't blame him).

the green stripes out

the purple stripes out

We will be sad to leave Portugal, after just mastering the basics of the language. We can now say good morning and good afternoon. I have even been to the post office a few times with successful results. Not a lot of English, so learning is obligatory. We will miss the wine, port, meats, fruit, honey, bread, and cheeses. All of it is fresh and local and delicious. Sorry, rest-of-Europe, but Portugal is producing the best cheese in Europe. Possibly in the world. How come nobody knows about it? France does make the fine, gooey soft cheeses, and British cheddars, I still miss them, Italy has hard cheeses down, the Netherlands make the aged goudas which are to die for, and Germany does a great job of importing cheese from the rest of the continent. But the range in Portugal - from fresh cheeses and ricotta to hard and soft sheep cheeses in the round, there's just something about them that is, well, better. Now you know.

Temporary Home Portugal

2011-10-25T14:07:00.000+01:00

So here we are, and it has already been over a week. Time flies when you're on the edge of nowhere, watching the weather coming across the distant ridges. We have managed to land at another fantastic viewpoint, high up on a ridge top, looking south west. Our view is of the valley and a small settlement where we pay our water bill, and then some other ridges rising up behind it - all dotted with tall, slim pine trees. The first few days we were here the weather was hot and dry. When the owner of the home said it will get damp and cold we found ourselves doubting that that was true. But she should know, she's lived in this house for three years, and lived in Portugal for seven.

And sure enough, a big stormy wind started to blow a few days ago. First there were a couple of clouds rushing by, then billowing columns that moved across from the west to the east. And when they pass overhead, these clouds drop a fair amount of rain. It must be fall. We've been lighting the wood stove, staying cozy in our new little home.

Every day the farmer next door moves his sheep, sometimes along the road that goes right behind the house, sometimes down below on what must be some of his "grazing" land - although what they graze on is a mystery. We wave to the farmer as often as possible. One day Joshua is hoping to ask if he can help out. They are definitely milk sheep. But our Portuguese will have to improve considerably. A simple conversation with a cashier in town was a blurry jumble to us both.

So, some photos. They do not do the view justice. I cannot capture the depth of the ridges and valleys. Usually the light is too bright in the sky and the camera either bleaches out the clouds and bright blue or it loses all the land in shadow. Oh well.

part of the view

Joshua's workstation (the furniture on the terrace is in high wind formation)

sunrise, which happens after 8am due to the high ridge to the east

another attempt at capturing the view

sunset on a particularly cloud magical day

One wall of the house, the side facing the view, is glass; giant floor to ceiling sliding doors open onto a terrace. The side of the house that faces the street also faces a small pine wood where we've been walking. It feels open and empty and dry compared to the lush, wet, bright green forests we've been in lately.

We walk into town for groceries, about 2kms one way. The cheeses have been amazing, young and aged sheep cheeses that each have their own character.

Queijo fresco, which is somewhere between queso fresco (which we miss) and cottage cheese, is delightful. The stores all have beans in bulk and sell fresh cilantro, which is something we have also missed. We will be able to make proper salsa, beans, and rice. Can you tell we miss Mexican food? Tortillas are the only thing missing. And while there are so many different versions of what seem to be white rice, that is the only grain sold. No quinoa or bulgur here.

Town is north and east of where we are, and we've tried a couple of routes. Pedestrian infrastructure is sadly non-existent. And we've only seen a couple of people on bikes. We had planned to buy a couple of used bikes to use while we are here, but the routes to town aren't that friendly (and very hilly) and so far we're enjoying the walking. Our commitment here is almost exactly three months, so we have some time to learn more. There are taxis for the rainy days when we need to get anywhere, so even though we're a 30 minute walk from town, walking will be our primary mode of transportation.

Where are our bicycles? In Zurich, where they will stay until we go back. The riding will begin again next summer and plans are already forming... we didn't get quite enough touring in this past summer. Gotta buckle down and work hard this winter so we can make up for it next year.

On Our Way Out of Europe and back

2011-10-20T17:19:00.003+01:00

We took the train from Limoges, France to Poitiers, and there we finally tried Grimbergen, a beer we'd been curious about while we were in Belgium this summer. Brewing since 1128? Yes, that is a year. And it's the monks who have been brewing it that long, no doubt.

In Poitiers we caught the night train on it's way from Paris to Madrid. We got on fairly late at night, so we were shown our cabin and promptly went to sleep in our beds. The night trains to and from Spain are the Spanish Trenhotels and they are known as the nicest trains in Europe. We didn't have dinner in the dining car, as it was quite late, and we didn't even go to the bar. But we did have breakfast looking out the huge windows at the Spanish landscape. We had clearly traveled south - trees are a darker and somehow paler green, pines and cypress and ceders that can handle long days in the sun. The rocky, somewhat mountainous landscape was definitely a change from the wet and green of western France.

We arrived a little before 10am in Madrid and went straight to the Metro. The stations seemed entirely too huge, cavernous and empty - and very, very new. We stayed with a fantastic couple through the website Airbnb.com. We highly recommend using this site, and if you do, let them know that we recommended it to you - I think we get credit although we haven't figured out how yet. Air BnB is a site where you can browse listings by locals who have a couch, spare room, or whole apartment or house that they are willing to rent out, usually at much better prices than you'd pay for a hotel room. We used this in Venice also, and stayed with a really nice couple. In both places we were treated very well, allowed to show up when it was convenient for us, and given the local insight on where to go and what to see. Highly recommended.

We spent most of the day wandering around Madrid. Joshua got a shave and haircut and we bought a few things for our flight the next morning to Boston. Madrid is a fantastic city, and we are hoping we'll spend some more time in Spain in the near future. We had the obligatory sangria and tapas, and later found the most delicious restaurant where we ate dinner alone (the Spanish don't eat until at least 10pm and we hoped to be in bed by then). So if you ever find yourself in Madrid, go to Gabriel. You will not regret it - both meaty local specialties as well as delicious vegetarian options are always on the menu.

For a couple of weeks we traveled New England to visit with family and friends. First to celebrate my (Ramona's) cousin Lucy's bat mitzvah, and see some friends down in Quincy, and then to see Joshua's family in Maine and friends in Vermont and even upstate New York. We spent some time on the farm where Joshua was a shepherd and farm manager for a number of years. We got a ton of family time in with both families at large, fun gatherings and then spent some time catching up with old friends.

Thanks Bly, Judy, Christopher, and Benjamin! Thanks Sarah, Dave, Owen, and Anya! Thanks David, Yesenia, Austin, and Lana! Thanks Judy and Ike Moody! Thanks Jana, Zak, Django, and Desmond! And thanks Lucy for bat mizvah'ing, and all the Abrams and Marks family members we got to see in Boston! Lots and lots of love to every one of you.

And then suddenly we were in a rooftop room (another Airbnb find) in Lisbon, Portugal, on our way to the next house sit.

And now... more France!

2011-10-20T13:29:00.000+01:00

We've only been on bicycles a few of times in the last couple of months. Sorry for the gap in posts. We have been doing a lot of moving about, however, and there is much to tell.

First, the really fun bike ride we went on after leaving Paris was in Basel, Switzerland, and it was a repeat of something we enjoyed last year: ride to swim in the Rhine. It is still thrilling to us both that in this city they have managed to clean the water enough to swim in it, and that people jump in whenever the weather is warm.

lock up the bikes

jump in the water!

Being the second year in a row, we are now calling it an annual tradition. Basel is where we were blown away by bicycle merging onto the freeway offramp to get into the city. It's also where the bicycle parking for the football (soccer) stadium is almost as impressive as the stadium itself. And there's a dinosaur in the park. We are lucky to have friends in Basel and look forward to going back again.

But because this post is about France, let's move on. Basel was a stop on the way to a small farm in rural western France. Somewhere between Limoges and Bordeaux are rolling hills, green and grassy or green and tree covered, and a house sitting gig awaited us.

The place is beautiful. The "town", or cluster of crumbling stone buildings, is almost impossible to find on a map.

The services are limited to a van that comes up and sells bread to the elderly local population. We were about 10km from the nearest village where we could do any shopping and we had left our bikes in Switzerland. Fortunately, the kind owners took us for a comprehensive shop before they left - all the things that last like grains and beans and things, plus a fairly good stock of milk, cheese, and citrus fruits. The rest we'd have to get from the garden and the chickens.

That's right, a real farm. Ducks, chickens, turkeys, geese all quacking and chirping about, laying eggs every day. Twelve sheep, of a rare breed, who didn't seem to want to stay in their field. A couple of sweet black labs, one young who could have gone for miles and miles of walks all day every day and the other on his last legs. And a couple of cats, one who disappeared within the first couple of days and didn't reappear until the owners returned and the other who brought dormice into the house, sometimes dead, sometimes not so dead.

What a fun place to house sit. Letting the animals out in the mornings, collecting eggs, feeding, watering, walks in the woods, mushroom hunting, sheep chasing and jailing, harvesting vegetables to eat and to dry, and Joshua even used tractors.

Also a nice amount of time to do some online work and plenty of lovely spots to sit and do just that.

Alfie (short for Gandalf) in the grass, Joshua at the table,

Pippen in the foreground wondering why I haven't given him a treat yet

definitely a lucky place to be

what is this guy looking for?

these:

We had a really lovely time. Joshua got to do all the sheepy things he hasn't done in a long time. Like put them in sheep jail when they escape, trim their hooves, and even some dagging or crutching. What is that? Well, you tell a sheep to sit on it's hip and then you trim the wool from around their nether-parts. No kidding.

I believe this ram is named Dell. Huge.

that's right, girl, you're next!

they kind of hate it

Joshua knows a bunch of moves to keep 'em from getting up

and yes, he is barefoot

the littlest guy, Norman, didn't try anything - what could he do?

and finally a rare photo of the owners, Peter and Mandy

We had a really nice time taking care of this farm. We managed to get the sheep in a field where they didn't escape, at least for a week or so. And none of the birds were eaten by pine martens. Peter and Mandy were kind enough to let us stick around until our planned trip back to the US for family events, so we did what we could to help them get things harvested, built, and the sheep happy and healthy. We really do hope to go back one day.

Paris

2011-09-29T14:35:00.000+01:00

At the end of July we indulged in a very awesome trip to Greece, details below, and arrived back in Zurich thinking that we should start house sitting again. With a fairly tight time frame, we snagged a 17 day house sit in Paris. A lovely apartment in the center of the Marais, less than 10 minutes walk to the Seine. We spent most of our days searching for online work and doing some of that work, and we ate every meal at home. We went for walks in the evenings and attended free classical music concerts in churches in the evenings.

Akim was shy at first. He spent most days under the bed and only came out when we were gone, scurrying back under the bed when we came home. He can open the doors and enjoys eating plastic bags, so we had to be vigilant. But by a few days in, we had come to an understanding.

our reason to be in Paris

Huge, fuzzy cat not really into cuddling, but very interested in being brushed.

And then there was Paris...

la coeur pistache

saints standing on demons

notre dame

la seine

la tour eiffel

bike polo

Where Have We Been!?

2011-07-28T23:06:00.001+01:00

Well, a bunch of places... We had a great time playing with a brand new baby in Zurich, and then we skipped off to Greece. This has been in the works for at least a year. Our great friends who live in LA knew they'd be going to Greece, so we figured we'd fit it into our plans, too.

From Zurich, we took a train to Venice - a trip in and of itself. At one point the train goes into a mountain and makes a 180 degree turn, passing the same church twice in opposite directions. I guess maybe you'll have to see that yourself.

We had our first airbnb.com experience and stayed with a really sweet couple. Highly recommended. Be sure to tell AirBnB where you heard of them. We'll be using the site again very soon, in Madrid, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Whoever developed airbnb.com knows a lot about search capabilities - every option you need is available. We stayed in the spare room in a two bedroom apartment for a whopping 40 Euros. Two minute walk to the bus, 10 minute bus ride into Venice, and Venice is no place to stay if you're on a budget. It is, however, a place that everyone should get to visit at least once. Even if just for one day. Did you know that there are no cars there? No bikes, either, because of all the stairs.

White building on left - municipal hospital of Venice

We enjoyed ourselves, drank limoncello after dinner, sat in molte piazze drinking cafe, walked and walked and walked. Got lost on the way home... something everyone needs to do in Venice. It's an island. Just wander around... there's no such thing as lost, even if you end up at a dead end.

We also bought some accessories to help spiff up our look - nothing like a little glamour on your way to Greece.

That's right. A hat and earrings and we're ready for anything.

Our ride to Greece was a boat - kind of a big one. Great views of Venice on the way out of town. This baby is a good 40 hours in ferry heaven. Anyone can ride this boat in the style they prefer. There are cabins, of course, but for those who don't feel like shelling out the cash there are other alternatives. For example, you can camp on the deck. Just buy a ticket and arrive early and prepared.

The tent is orange. The dogs are on a walk.

People staked out space under staircases, behind unused doorways, and in every corner. Some people brought their motor-pumped, blow-up mattresses. I assume many of these people also had cars on board, so the shlepping of sleeping bags and pillows and mattresses was minimal. But I think they had it right. We each brought a messenger bag full of sunny weather clothes, minimal packing, and reserved "business class, airplane seats" - option number 3. And they really were like seats in business class on an airplane, except that they do not lean back so you still have to sleep sitting up. We noticed that others in this "class" had brought mattresses and sleeping bags and slept in the ample space on the floor in front of their seats, a technique we adopted for the return journey.

IF we ever do that again, which is unlikely, we will take the cheap tickets and find some carpet or deck space. Why not? We also brought food and wine enough for two days. Well, almost enough. We tried the onboard cafeteria-style dining option. Not impressed. Again, on the return journey we came better prepared.

And then suddenly (after two restless nights) we woke up in Greece. 5am, total darkness, not a taxi in sight - taxi strike strikes - and speaking no Greek at all. And this isn't the kind of place where a rough understanding of latin roots will help you read signs. News flash: Greeks have their own alphabet. Good luck!

We knew, roughly, where the hotel was, but not the street name. As we passed the only lit building, the bus station, we stopped to ask for directions. Nobody understood English, however Olympic Hotel seemed to resonate and they gave us directions in Greek. We managed to keep the sounds in our heads, and when we hit the correct street we made our left turn and found the hotel as if we'd planned things that way. The hotel was even open! The (non) plan had been to just hang out, maybe leave the bags with the hotel clerk, go to a cafe. Very funny in total darkness the day of arrival. Luckily our conversation with the clerk went like this:

Clerk (bewildered): Good morning. Can I help you?

Ramona: We have a reservation for today, we just arrived on the ferry.

Clerk (clarity): Oh, you're checking in. What is your last name?

Ramona: Marks?

Clerk: Okay, you are in room 602, here's the key.

Ramona: So we can... okay, great, thanks so much.

We slept through earthquake number one (the actual quake, 3.8, 10am-ish, yeah, first of many) and awoke to a 6th floor view.

look left

look right

Not bad. We wandered and saw some stuff. As it turns out, you can't go out for breakfast in Patras. As one restaurant worker/owner put it: "I had pancakes and eggs at home. We have some tiny croissants that we give away with coffees." Okay, thanks, we'll take those. We did find places to buy various pastries at about breakfast time, and some days we just held out until lunch and ate everything.

typical Greek (vegetarian) meal. meat-eaters, there's a lot waiting for you in Greece.

The first day was a short, hazy day for us, as we'd slept barely enough for two nights in a row and then napped all morning. We did see one of the few tourist attractions that Patras offers. A church built in 1908, painted inside as if the artists were stuck in the 1600s (maybe earlier).

Lovely on the outside and the inside. Sorry, no photos of the inside. But if you've ever studied Boccacio, you know that the discovery of perspective in paintings of the Virgin Mary pre-dates 1908. Oh well, great mosaic octopuses on the floor. Nope, no photos of those either.

On day 3 or so we had another brief earthquake. Then on day 4 we felt two, both while we were eating dinner outside. The second that evening was a rumble and then jolt that we could hear in all the buildings around us. We lived in Los Angeles for more than 6 years, but never had we felt so many earthquakes in such quick succession. When the world moves under you, solid ground starts to feel like a mirage that you can hold onto. Everything is good if the land stays still and the buildings don't crumble.

That said, Greece was very hot in a way that makes me want to complain. Every day we were guaranteed temperatures in the 90s, and it was a kind of heat that rendered us almost completely useless and very ready for air conditioning. We decided that the best thing to do in Patras is go to the beach. Available in both the bronzed-teenage-body-and-dance-music variety and the less-crowded, quieter, more comfortable type. Cappuccino Freddo available everywhere.

cappucino freddo, your friend in Greece, made with espresso, ice, and whipped milk/cream with sugar

Beach #1. We stayed in the shade between swims.

the water... so lovely

wait... who are these toughies

The absolutely, no-doubt-about-it, dreamiest part about Patras was our LA friends who came for a Swede-Greek wedding. Being on the road, in a new country every... short amount of time, meeting new people, we love it. And also, we miss all of our fantastic friends. Just seeing photos of them makes life feel a bit more concrete again. These jokers (above) were accompanied by a Swede posse that made each day feel like the best guided tour with semi-locals ever. Meaning, they knew about beaches.

beach #2, dubbed "the beach at Whittier when sea levels rise" (thanks Guzman)

a dock to jump off of is a very nice feature indeed

So is Swede ass, I mean gorgeous turquoise water. The groom is far left, his brother is playing tough guy, climbing onto the doc without using the ladder. And the bathing suit? Just a Swede in a suit. There were a couple of days at this particular dock.

yes, we drank lots of ouzo

ooooooooouzo, by mrs. kelly martin

hot Swede at our table!!! awesome!

nothing sums it up like a panorama

might've been a little windy during this photo

aaaand the underwater feature comes in handy

One of my favorite moments was when I stood on the dock with the camera, took a photo of Simon jumping in, and we both laughed as he came up and looked back. Then I dove off the dock, and just before I hit the water I heard "YOU'RE HOLDING YOUR CAMERA!!!"

Came up laughing. Greece was alright.

Except for the taxi strike. Or, maybe the infrastructure dependent on taxis. Surprise, the same ferry you arrived on will leave from a DIFFERENT PORT. We found this out the evening we were meant to board. Oh, 5kms away? Cool. How the f*** do we get there? We planned to be at the terminal early, so we made it to the boat. But not without a bunch of stressful fretting over bus schedules. And then the bus dropped us at least one kilometer past the boat, because the entrance to the port is built for everyone except pedestrians. Old ladies dragging rolling luggage had to walk almost a mile to get from the bus stop to their boat. How cool is that? Taxi drivers may have reasons to strike. They also have a powerful status in the tourism structure of Greece - without them, travel can be a pain in the butt.

We were still on the boat two hours before it left. Joshua prefers being early, and Ramona ran back to the hotel for bus information and to buy bus tickets. (Wait, did you notice that? Ramona and ran in the same sentence?) Sometimes, being overly prepared means being just prepared enough.

sunrise the morning we got back to Venice.

After that trip, we were welcomed back to Zurich with love. Our coffers depleted, we realized it was already time to start house sitting again. Sorry, no trip over the Alps this summer. At least, not by bicycle. The first opportunity that popped up was two plus weeks in Paris. Who turns that down?

More Climbing, Descending, Happy Touring

2011-07-15T15:21:00.013+01:00

Yeah, it's official. I love climbing through mountainous landscapes and descending into little towns between the trees on creeks that have yet to become rivers. This is bicycle touring at it's finest.

Our second of the proposed three big days was glorious.

We go up

reach the top

and go dooooow

wwwwnnn.

As you can see, it was also sunny. The Ardennes get two thumbs up from me, and I (Ramona) will never beg for flat touring again (we're going to cross the Alps into Italy on a future bike trip, so check with me then for an update on that attitude).

Some of the landscapes reminded us both of Switzerland, and some moments were reminiscent of Northern California coastal ridge lines.

Greenwood?

All the towns are really nice, and people were quite friendly. Again we made it to our end of day shopping town (Bertrix) around lunchtime. Nope, we have not tallied up kilometers, and no, we have no idea how high we climbed. The maps were color coded for altitude, and we went from green to yellow to reddish-orange. And then we went back down again. By the end of the day we were back down to yellows, and the landscape returned to the fairly level farmland from a few days before. We camped in the woods again, in a lovely, hidden spot that was maybe a little close to the train tracks (loud!).

the view up

Having spoken to Thomas a little when we had some internet access, we decided that our successful and enjoyable time in the Ardennes was enough of a bicycle success and that we were ready to go to Switzerland. We have a little break planned, hanging out with friends in Zurich. Then we take a quick train/ferry trip (without bikes) to Greece for a week, and head back to Zurich to resume touring at the beginning of August. Bicycle over the Swiss Alps after ouzo and spanikopita? Why not.

We did another half day in the morning, after delicious breakfast that I had to take a picture of.

Then at a town just a 20 minutes train ride from Luxembourg we hopped on a train. In Luxembourg we caught a direct train all the way to Zurich, and arrived around 9:30pm to a warm, summery city, and warm, summery friends.

Rest Day at the "Lake" and Big Climbs on the Road

2011-07-14T14:24:00.001+01:00

We rode a good solid half day, heading straight for the large lake on the map. At one point the route went down a somewhat intimidating road, all gravel and bumps, and then took at turn into the woods. Maybe it's the wrong way?

Turned out to be just right. But the lake itself was a little disappointing. Mostly the product of a few huge dams, you could only swim in a couple of designated spots. There's lots of jetskis, though. Loud and obnoxious.

We worked our way around to where there was supposed to be a campsite, and this time it was actually there. They were even happy to have us! Woo! First campsite in Belgium where we weren't rejected. We paid for two nights, to ensure we would rest the following day, and then realized that things were in kind of a sorry state. No laundry facilities, but we were welcome to wash in the sinks. Showers were a bit grim, but the water was hot. Toilets were hit and miss. The camping area was awesome, and we met a Dutch couple, touring from Amsterdam to Italy. They had four months off to enjoy each other and all that Europe has to offer. I think (and hope) that we will see them again one day.

We did a little laundry (in the shower) and took advantage of the sun. However it was not to last very long. After a warm and relaxing afternoon it started to look like rain. So we hoofed it to the store without all our gear and bought supplies to last a couple of days. It didn't start to rain until after we got back (luckily), but then it rained most of the following day. Which was good for our resting. We spent most of our time next to the shut down restaurant, where the teenagers usually hang out.

We were told to expect similar weather the following day. Cold! Wet! I thought we left this in Scotland! Oh well... we planned. Back before we hit Charleroi, we were already contemplating a train sooner than later. We talked about a train to Strasbourg, or Worms, or Mainz. Something to get us back on the Rhine so we could ride into Switzerland. We didn't have enough time to ride the whole way, but we had hoped to see what we could of Belgium and take a train from Luxembourg, or even Trier, Germany. After a lot of deliberation and thinking, we decided that we should just go for it - conquer the Ardennes. The maps we had were enough to get us on a south and east route, with a little planning and a serious effort we could make it to Luxembourg in three days. Big days. So we pumped each other up about it and I sat and planned a route.

Joshua kept himself busy with the charging of various electronics.

And late in the afternoon the rain stopped for a while, so he took down the tarp and we did what packing and re-organizing we could when things were a bit drier. After a nice dinner we got into bed early, to the sounds of a camping group of kids, the rough but friendly family (of sorts) in the pop-up trailer close to us, and dance music.

We got up early in the morning, when we both woke up and realized it hadn't been raining. Things were dry, we ate a nice breakfast, and busted out a huge day.

Beautiful rolling hills and farms, not a lot of rain, a pretty good route.

Climbing. We finally did some semi-serious climbing. Riding up and up, sometimes on pretty steep roads, and being rewarded with a long, beautiful descent. Maybe I like hills.

We had one route hiccup, which I don't think I can blame on the mapmakers at this point.

See the large truck in the photo above? Well, that's where the bike route came out. See the barriers between the truck and us? Joshua lifted our bikes over those. Apparently, someone thought a freeway that is uncrossable was a good idea through here. Thanks a lot!

By 10:30am or so we were already at an impressively straight and almost flat bike path running along an old rain line. With 30kms under our belts already, this meant we would continue to make great time and cover lots of kms. The sun even came out for a little bit.

And then a funny thing happened. We reached our dinner destination city by lunchtime. Now, last year on July 14th we were in Colmar, France, and had a bit of drama related to everything being closed for Bastille Day. Not a lot of food around. This year, we were fully aware of the date, and even joked that maybe Belgians in the south (who speak only French) might also celebrate Bastille Day. In the early parts of the day we had found plenty of open stores and nobody seemed to be on vacation. However, we neglected to notice the pale grey dashed line on the map, indicating the border with France. The city of Givet is surrounded on three sides by Belgium, but to the south it is just barely connected to France, and therefore when we rolled into town everything was closed. Joshua said, sarcastically, "what is this? France?" And amended it with, "we're boned! This is France!"

Everything was closed, it was France, but due to expert food planning we had plenty of lunch to eat in the park (and even enough for dinner that night). Plus we figured out that we would be back in Belgium within a few kilometers anyway. A really gorgeous part of Belgium.

More mountainous, forested, and a satisfying ride up and down.

That evening we had at least two too many beers at a bar where the final hour of a Tour de France stage was playing, and then found a lovely spot in the woods to camp.

Charleroi to Black Beetle Camping

2011-07-11T11:07:00.001+01:00

We started to do some climbing as we delved deeper into Belgium.

And then found another watery route to follow.

Somewhere along this canal Joshua realized he had a broken spoke. After some shopping for food we stopped under a bridge for lunch and a quick, rear-wheel, spoke replacement.

This is the Stein Lock Ring tool. It has a place in my heart close to the Stein Bottom Bracket Lock Removal Nut tool. Does Stein make a whole bicycle that fixes itself?

Merci boucoup, Ft. Bragg Cyclery, for selling us this tool. Second time we needed/used it...

For those wondering, total elapsed time: one hour. Most difficult part: keeping my hands clean so that I would not foul the rim tape. Note the flip-flops. These are my new climbing flip-flops.

We headed towards Charleroi, a large city, thinking maybe we were already in the mood to take a train to Trier and continue to Switzerland via the Rhine. Or maybe we'd get some supplies. At least a coffee by the water? A hotel? We definitely needed a bank and it was this need that drove us (at least me, Joshua) into the city even after we realized it was going to be a shit-hole cluster fuck. The road into town was non-stop traffic (American city style) and there was trash (as in bags of trash) piled on the side of the road. In the city center, everything was under construction with entire streets torn down to dusty gravel. On the plus side, everyone was friendly. I (Joshua) had my longest conversation in French ever getting directions to a bank. We parked at a cafe for a coffee and a Coke. Then we hauled ass out of that place without even considering a train or a hotel. Our advice - avoid this city.

Ramona did an amazing job navigating us out the city. She says she was driven by necessity. I think she is really good at wayfinding in cities. This is what we saw as we left the city.

I guess this is cool. In a way.

On our way out of town, we saw a lot of amazing machines. It is possible that you could have heavy bits of metal thrown onto the path in one spot (there were warning signs). Given our experience in Belgium so far, we were very worried that the canal path would just end and we'd have to turn around and backtrack into the city.

Sometimes they provided a 'deviation':

On loose gravel.

But even at the gravel pit, there was some space to go by. Feeling fuzzy.

We didn't even try the campsite that was listed on the map - just found a really nice spot in the woods and set up a really lovely camp. This one was far more secluded as it was nestled deep in the woods under a beech tree. There were ticks again, but far fewer. This time, the fauna of note were these dawdling iridescent purple beetles that were intent on marching en mass across our picnic blanket. Another fantastic dinner with a salad. We went to bed early and slept well knowing that the odds of someone happening upon us were nil. The morning was beautiful. We rose early and broke camp in record time. Our route for the day was planned and we more or less agreed that we would stop early and take a rest day the following day. From the map we could tell there were a few lakes in our future and we thought lakes meant campsites and swimming. We decided to prioritize a shower (or swim) and laundry.

- rolling post

Bruges, Ghent, Belgian Wilderness

2011-07-10T11:23:00.000+01:00

Our morning in Bruges was dedicated to finding maps for the rest of the country. They have a comprehensive map system for the northern part of the country, but each map only covers a small area. We learned that there was an easy way to get to Ghent, about 40kms on a canal. So we decided to try our luck without a map for that, and it was a breezy ride and a simple-to-follow route along the LF5.

We figured in Ghent we would find more maps.

At a little bakery we stopped for refreshments and saw our first vending machine that sells Jupiler beer. Soda, water, beer. We had to try it to believe it.

Ghent was also a nice city, but again crowded with tourists, trams (watch the rails), cars, and a few bikes. The LF5 brought us right through the center, where we stopped at a cafe for a bite and a coffee. Then we did a grocery shop, and found a bookstore that had a supply of Border Crossing Maps. We haven't seen the website yet, but it's www.feitskaart.be. These maps are 1:50,000, much more manageable. They also showed good north-south routes, and a couple of east-west routes. These routes are unmarked. They are really just a recommendation from the map makers, and they haven't lead us astray too often. The bookstore didn't have the whole set, especially not the one for the region around Ghent.

We navigated south to a campsite we saw on the Michelin map. That turned out to be much more difficult to find than we had hoped. The first few kilometers were on very rough roads; the kind that had once been paved but have degraded to mostly gravel. Very very bumpy. We also had our first cobblestone climb of the summer. We were always relieved when the route headed into towns.

As it got later, we again thought to find a bed and breakfast, and even asked at one place, which was full. Finally, getting on 8pm, we decided to camp in the trees next to the huge canal we had followed for quite a bit of the day. Wild camping Belgium, side of a horse riding track through the woods, horses clopped by in the morning, but nobody kicked us out.

We hoped to catch up with the map we had bought, south and east of Ghent a ways, navigating with our Michelin map using towns as if they were knoppunts. We ended up making it about halfway that first day, then the second day we found ourselves with a detailed map again.

Sometimes we had to make decisions like: should we go up this cobblestone hill or the hill that's paved? Or (below), should we take the route that meanders on a small roads or just roll down this big straight hill alongside the busy, noisy street?

Belgians like this form of boat bridge:

We rode into a small town, near another (supposed) campsite, and stopped to get some water and a beer at a friendly looking bar. The four or five people inside all gave us perfect directions: a le feu, tournez a droit. Tournez a gauche a la "Champion" (supermarché), et continuez sous le pont. À la deuxième gauche, tournez a gauche et c'est a droit là. This is the french speaking part of Belgium.

Sadly, our hopes were dashed. Big green field, nobody tent camping. We were unapologetically rejected by a busy-body youth with a cell phone who made a call to the manager. The "campsite" was more like a residents only, permanent-RV park. We filled our water and used their bathrooms on the way out and headed for a nearby wood. We were more exposed than the night before, but only to a path that was used by mountain bikers, joggers, dog-walkers. No one seemed to notice us nestled in the trees and ferns. Ticks everywhere - the little tiny ones. We had a nice dinner of tortellini and white pesto. For desert, some appelbak pastries. Then early to bed after a comprehensive tick check.

Turns out that we are good wild campers.

-- rolling post

Campinglandia to Belgium

2011-07-08T13:07:00.004+01:00

Finally camping again! Dutch campsites abound - we have seen more campsites in the past couple of days than we did in all 10 days of looking for them in the UK. And what pretty campsites. The photo above is morning, it was hot in the tent at 8am.

Pretty riding, too. Still with that big headwind.

And huge sea dams, with beach areas on the ocean side.

The bike lane is more of a guideline than a rule.

This dam is open.

These dams are opened every 12 hours to let the tide flow in and out. Here the tide is going out. Behind us, the bay is essentially below sea level, so the ocean is ultimately trying to get in. But the tide is going out. The two forces create powerful standing waves, like those you see down east Maine and in the bay of Fundy. The difference here is that the standing wave is something like 3 kilometers long. There were also some huge (deep) whirlpools.

Biggest windmill yet (see the RV at the bottom).

Bollards do not have to be posts.

In this one they are closing the gates.

It took a long time, the dam moved downward barely perceptively. But the water was changing dramatically all the time.

Rolling into the storm. We had an afternoon break while we waited for the rain to come, but the rainy areas seemed to skip us. By 5.30pm we were at a campsite, and rain was definitely coming, so we set up in a hurry and...

...finally use the tarp! It poured. A bunch of times. We stayed dry.

We had a good time eating dinner and giving each other foot massages.

Good morning baby cow. In this country you can often find camping bij de boer, which is camping on the farm. This farm had cows, chickens, a goose wandering around (and another one locked up - geese can be evil), and an old-looking, black duck.

Another fantastic sunny (if a bit breezy) day saw us into Belgium.

I think that was the border behind us.

We followed a canal straight into Bruges. It might have been called the Damme Canal or that might be Flemish for canal. As the day progressed our heading changed and the prevailing west wind was more at our back.

We had some fantastic kilometers on good road surfaces into the city. The knoppunt system was still with us (parts of Belgium have recently adopted it), but alas we had no map - knoppunt or otherwise - so we navigated by sign posts, the sun, and cathedral spires. We entered Bruges with no plan other than to find some maps and stock up on water. The city had other plans. The cobble stone streets (which we later found out were locally called 'baby heads'), manic car drivers, tram tracks, horse carriages, buses, cyclists, and pedestrians all crammed onto small streets all conspired to put us both in a state of shock.

Late in the day, we decided we'd better just find a room. In a bookstore, we got a Michelin map of Belgium (1:350,000). Better than nothing. After a couple of full places, we decided to just pay up and stay in a hotel that had a closed garage where we could leave our bikes. Searching for a cheaper alternative was getting more and more painful. We ate our dinner in the room and then went walking around town. Bruges is beautiful. There are many reasons that people visit the city from all over Europe and the world. Things are a bit crowded, and cars are still allowed in the city center, if in a limited manner. Why anyone would drive in that city is beyond me, but those who do seem to be very angry about their predicament.

After a beer at one of the many cafes on the main square, we went to a small but distinguished beer bar on a very small side street. The menu had way too many beers on it... and many had super high alcohol levels. 8%, 9%, 13%!?!!?

So we just had a couple.

Belgian IPA!? Thank goodness.

Chouffe does an IPA!!!?!?! yay!

And while drinking strong beers late into the night,

what better snack can you have than cheese cubes with mustard?

- rolling post

Touring again: Amsterdam-Den Haag-Etc

2011-07-05T19:51:00.001+01:00

Marieke joined us for coffee at Bagels and Beans near their house in Zeeburg before we hit the road again.

Stay a few more days? Tempting. But so is riding. Our first destination was Den Haag and Andrew and Freidel of Traveling Two (we highly recommend their site for info about bicycle touring).

Navigating out of the city was a snap; wending our way to the LF1 was a little more difficult because of some construction detours. About 10k outside of the city, we saw some small, isolated houses on a tiny canal and we both said, 'hey, we could live there.'

Cyclists trash receptacle, toss in as you pass.

This day was a gift from the Netherlands to us. It was sunny. It was just warm enough to be enlivening and not hot enough to be oppressive. And we had a tail wind that was blowing us to a wonderful reception in den Haag. We had an afternoon break at a surf spot. And yes, there's a surf scene in Netherlands. Kind of a big scene, too. Dunes, surfboards, bicycles.

Freidel and Andrew are a repository of touring information for all over the world. For example, Slovenia came up - nice for bike touring, apparently. They also gave us some great tips about camping here, in Belgium, and in Denmark (for next time).

They also cooked us a delicious feast: salmon, roasted peppers, tabouleh, and chickpeas over bok choi. And dessert, and a shower, and a comfortable bed, and breakfast. And every moment a great conversation. Thanks guys!

In the morning, we checked the forecast. No rain. But a head wind. Oh well.

See the flags? No, we were not heading in the same direction.

I (Joshua) spent all day pulling hard against the wind, but loving every minute; that is not my butt that hurts, that's my saddle conforming to my ass - the saddle is in pain. The good vibrations (tailwind) from the day before were still with me in spirit. Even the rain squall that we encountered when we reached the Rhine could not dampen my spirits.

We could not put on our rain gear fast enough.

We were soaked in a matter of moments in one squall. Then we had a few minutes in a bus shelter, waiting for the ferry across, and some more rain.

But in true Netherlands fashion, it cleared again quickly and we had to stop again to take off all the rain gear.

Netherlands: where every direction you want to travel includes space for bikes and pedestrians.

Even freeway intersections with bridges.

And things dry quickly when the sun comes out.

In the afternoon we spent some time at a cafe in Brielle. Again it rained, so we stayed longer (at the cafe with red chairs below). They raised the huge umbrellas when it started to rain, and they actually work. They are ready for this kind of quick weather change.

A group of what we called 'midday ridazz' came into the square:

And the rest of the day was windmills, huge dykes, green trees, and more dunes. Always with the wind in our smiling faces.

- rolling post

zuid holland

2011-07-05T13:30:00.000+01:00

space cake in the dunes
restaurant nederland strand
oh, where are my pants?

- rolling post

And Amsterdam

2011-07-03T12:06:00.000+01:00

Yesterday afternoon we sat at a cafe and watched everyone roll by. I wish there was a way to describe Amsterdam, and Netherlands in general, so that everyone could experience this place. But I don't think that's really possible. Here's my best attempt for now.

Us.

I can read this menu. Almost.

The view (those black things are bike racks, the smooth paving the bike path, and the bricks for walking. oh yeah, and the road).

Every shape, size, and color of people; grey haired grandparents, teenagers, little black girls and boys, women in burkas, shoppers, parents with tiny babies or toddlers or tweens, cyclists all. Plus some motorized wheelchairs and mofas. And that was just the 30 minutes while I took photos, on a quiet street in a residential neighborhood on the outskirts of Amsterdam. You should see the city center at rush hour.

- rolling post

sheep in the ferns

2011-07-01T15:42:00.000+01:00

a sheep in the ferns
blue butterfly on its ear
alas, just a tag

Location:Panamakade,Amsterdam,Netherlands

Out of the ferry and into the Amsterdam

2011-06-29T15:00:00.000+01:00

It was raining a little when we disembarked in IJmuiden, but the sun was
starting to break through. And thankfully there was a stiff tail wind to blow us the 20 km (yeah kilometers) to Amsterdam. IJmuiden is a large port and revealed an industrial side of the Netherlands that we had not seen before. There were dozens of smoke stacks belching smoke and steam. There were also many of those chimneys with flames coming out of them - burning the extra gases produced by oil refining I think. The steel gray sky, the mist, the horizon of smoke stacks, and the typical fishy smell of a port mingled with whatever the pollution the innumerable factories were emitting combined left me slack jawed. Newark, NJ and Gary, IN came to mind. When we were in Scotland, someone told me of a saying from the industrial revolution regarding factory towns, "where there is smoke, there is money.". This view of the Netherlands was one that we knew necessarily existed, but one that we had missed on our previous rides.

After our passports were stamped, we simply followed the signs to Amsterdam. Along the roads of the Netherlands, there's usually a smaller road, separated by grass or a curb. So we didn't bother to do more than look at a map while we were still in Newcastle. Follow the road along the canal? And true to form, there were smooth, clearly marked bike paths all the way to the city center - in marked contrast to our experiences in the UK. Amsterdam, I am yours.

Ramona and I did have a mini-meltdown in communication that started with an unheard comment about an unexpected left turn and ended with some swearing and bad feelings. We did, however, arrive at Marieke and Paul's flat in Zeeburg by crossing the entire Centrum of the city without too much fuss and with only two glances at our map. Anyone who has been to Amsterdam can recognize this as a minor miracle.

One thing that I forgot about riding in Amsterdam is that the horribly disturbing ominous grinding, clanking, and/or rattling noise is not coming from your bicycle. It is coming from the bicycle(s) that is approaching you rapidly from behind. This happened to me a couple of times on our way into the city. The first time, my heart dropped through the bottom of my stomach, because the sound was really bad - like someone had just shoved a polo mallet into my back wheel and my panniers were about to fall off because my rack had melted and was dragging on the ground. But no, a moment later, a handsome man passed me and said, "impressive", in Dutch which we of course could not understand, so he repeated it in English which was refreshingly clear (after the UK). The noise was probably a combination of the crate he had on the back of his bike moving and clunking around as we went over a bump and the normal every day squeaks his bike was making.

- rolling post

DSDF Newcastle to Amsterdam

2011-06-28T14:30:00.000+01:00

We both got surprise hair cuts from Budge's cousin ... And then it was out the door after triple checking every corner of the flat for our stuff. There is a feeling of finality when closing a door and dropping the keys into the mail slot - everything behind that door is now irrevocably the past and you are forced to immediately deal with the consequences of a simple action. I don't think we forgot anything. If we did, we haven't missed it yet, so it probably is not important. We did purposefully leave behind some unused batteries and an unused front light (that I had been dragging about for over a year).

The sun was out, but it was cool. We opted to take a city road over the 72 bike path for the first few miles of the ride. Then we found the bike path and made a wrong turn and ended up at an industrial park dead end. We were now experts at this kind of bike path deception and quickly found our way to the port. At the ferry terminal, we showed our tickets and got into the queue with about 100 motorcycles. Judging by the languages spoken we were surrounded by Dutch, French, Italian, Flemish, Scottish, German, and English motorcycle touring enthusiasts. There were many BMW R1200 (HUGE bikes) fitted with stainless steel panniers. We drank tea and gawked at the bikes and the riders in their high tech leather gear.

Thirty minutes in the queue, we started boarding - a process that took over 2.5 hours. This was, by far, the largest ferry we have been on. Our passports checked, we were waved through to a pre-boarding staging area for bicycles where we met a German cyclist returning home, a British couple setting out for three week tour down the Rhine, and a British cyclist on a 1962 bicycle on his way to meet friends in Utrecht. We chatted as we boarded and tied down our bicycles, agreed that we would probably meet each other again at some point, and parted ways to find our respective rooms. We did not see them again until we disembarked. The ferry was that big. Our berth was nice, way nicer than our Funky Ferry (Hirtshals to Bergen) berth.

Bye bye Newcastle.

I think maybe that is the new castle.

Here are some tips for this ferry.

* don't bother purchasing a meal. bring your own food, buy from the cafe, or, if you are starving, purchase the buffet on board (this will be very expensive, but it is possible)

* you can spend euros or pounds on board

* there are two cinemas on board showing current movies in English with subtitles

* try the Hot Snaks, but do not eat too many (this should be obvious once you see what Hot Snaks are)

* this ferry presents an excellent opportunity to play, "what nationality" because every western nationality seemed to be present (even Canadians!) - observing eating habits and alcoholic drink choice are fantastic clues.

After dinner, we watched the sun set from on deck.

(sun tan photo)

Then it was off to bed for fairly good night's sleep. Amsterdam tomorrow!!!

- rolling post

Newcastle

2011-06-26T19:37:00.000+01:00

We are cyclists with some experience. We enjoy riding fast and riding slow. We have navigated the streets of Los Angeles as well as the streets of Amsterdam, and we have gotten lost on dirt roads in Germany and Denmark. There have been days when we have taken our fully loaded touring bicycles down steep, freshly graveled roads. There have been days where the bike path was a flooded, muddy walking track.

There is nothing like following someone who knows where they are going. Riding in Newcastle, a reasonably sized city with neighborhoods and parks, was a pleasure. All we had to do to see the city? Follow Budge, knowledgeable cyclist who spends weekends sometimes with a road century race, sometimes with 7 hours straight of mountain bike racing. He took us on a cyclocross tour of his favorite park. Yes, we rode dirt paths and carried our bikes up stairs. It was beautiful.

In the middle of Newcastle!? Above you see the Shoe Tree. A huge tree with many shoes dangling from it. Budge doesn't think anyone knows why - but now it is a local site.

Then we went through downtown, were taunted by some hoodlums, and saw the old city wall, backed by an alley and the rear exits of Chinese food restaurants in Chinatown.

Dinner was delicious thai food, and then back to the local bars. If you're ever in Newcastle, go to The Free Trade.

We met up with Millie, Budge's cousin, and she agreed to come to the apartment the next morning and give us both haircuts. A stylist who makes house calls is dear to us both, and the last haircuts we had (besides the one I gave Joshua) were in LA, over a year ago.

Newcastle was a little rough around the edges, but we had a really great time with Budge.

- rolling post

Surprise, dressage

2011-06-25T23:45:00.000+01:00

bike path through sheep field
horse and rider approaching
wow. surprise dressage

- rolling post

If Alnwick is pronounced an' ick, how do you say Alnmouth?

2011-06-25T17:45:00.000+01:00

Our tentative plan was to meet in front of Arie's hotel at 8:45am. If either party didn't show, the first party should leave alone with the expectation that (born from our experience over the last four days) we would meet again down the road.

Ramona and I made it out of our hotel in good time after a breakfast of poached eggs with kippered herrings and scrambled eggs with smoked salmon. We were late for our rendez-vous because we need to do a shop at the Co-op (yeah!) and the local bakery (double yeah for proper donuts). Ramona did some inspired navigating that put us directly back on the North Sea Route.

Arie warned us that the first few miles would not be... smooth. Some gravel, some mud, and along cliffs, no less. Well, at least it is beautiful and there's no rain.

We saw lots of sheep, and some horses. And at one point we stopped and Ramona went up and over the hill on the ocean side to find...

the beach.

We chatted for a while with the farmer whose sheep we were riding with and whose land the path passed through. He managed to tell some off-colored jokes as well as demonstrate his worldliness - all-in-all a nice break and chat.

Hi sheep.

This is hairy vetch.

This is hemlock (I think) with one of the only bees (and is that a proper bee?) that I saw in over two months in the UK. Cell phones? Fungus? GMO pollen? It is eerie to not see bees...

For a break we stopped near the Bamburgh Castle. Coming in on the road it looks like this:

Wow. We had a coffee and snack in town, and then rallied on. It turned into another very big day, although the morning went incredibly slowly. Recovery from the previous day was needed.

But despite exhaustion and a very slow start, we made it to Alnmouth, where we thought Arie might be staying. All afternoon we'd had glimpses of a cyclist up ahead, too far off to catch, wearing a red jacket. He/She was our Arie, as we hoped to catch up. However a kilometer out of Alnmouth we did catch up with a woman in a red top. Just ahead of her was her husband, with their toddler on the bike. Same person all afternoon?

We asked whether Alnmouth had places to stay. They let us know there was an art festival going on, but they seemed to think that we'd get a place anyway. But each time we asked, we were turned away.

After the fourth or fifth hotel/b&b, we arrived just outside of Beaches. Before I (Ramona) went inside Joshua headed down the street to another hotel. As I stood there, the owner, Donald came out to stand on the street. He chatted with a woman who passed by, and I overheard that they had been on vacation for a couple of weeks. After his conversation was concluded, I asked if he had space and indeed he did. He hadn't been in to take the calls for reservations, he'd been on vacation in Northern CA and southern OR. Hi Donald! Thanks! We loved our purple themed room, the rubber duckies and other bath toys on the edge of the tub, and the fantastic breakfast of fresh berries and yogurt. And poached eggs and toast and yum.

They were full for dinner that night, so we went down the street to have a beer and nachos (who can resist?). After a couple of rounds Joshua went ahead and had a half pint.

First Sunburns of 2011 - Alnmouth to Budge

In the morning we had more steam, and after a 50 mile day we were within 50 miles of Newcastle. If we went all the way it would mean two nights in Newcastle, and a full day to recover, do laundry, etc.

The day went smoothly and quickly. More castles.

The sea and the sky and finally Tynemouth.

When we thought we were very close we stopped for a bite (fish & chips) and a couple of beers. We called Budge and missed him. Then after beers we tried again and it turned out we were still a good 7 miles away. As time ran out he gave us the name of a bar, and said to call if we hit the center of town with all the fancy bridges. Which is what we did. He came to meet us, took us to his place, and then we went out for some dinner. Riding without gear!

In a neighborhood called Byker!

One favorite bar where we left the bikes locked up.

Hey look! Budge!

- rolling post

105+kms

2011-06-24T20:57:00.000+01:00

Again, Arie was a bit quicker to get out the door in the morning, but we were closer behind him this time. (That's Toby the dog in the foreground, always around looking for a snack.)

Our first views of the River Tweed were as we crossed over it, just after a near-miss of a route sign.

The east coast is less rainy than the west coast. Another gorgeous day.

Et voila! Arie.

We wanted to make good time, and the most obvious way to do that is to cover many miles in one day. From Innerleithen to Berwick-upon-Tweed was over 60 miles by the map (Arie has the maps). We decided to aim for Berwick, and see how we did. Again the path meandered up and down hills and back and forth across the river. Not a level river route at all. We tend to ride a little faster than Arie, but he has been touring for longer than us and his constant speed seemed to get him places before our fast riding and long breaks.

There's the river, down at the bottom of the hill.

Arie opts for more frequent, short breaks. As opposed to our 2 hour long lunches that include a beer. But all together we rode with just a few snack breaks, and we made excellent time.

A little lunch. And Arie uses his tri-pod. We have one now, but haven't actually used it yet. New gadget. If we carry it, we'd better start using it.

We love his set-up. Handmade by a friend leather canister holds his tools. Suspended brooks. Brooks rear bag and a couple of Ortliebs. Very nice.

We rode up some pretty bigs hills. And then rolled down again. Beautiful day. Riding with three for a change was nice. I (Joshua) felt strong all day and spent a lot of time in the front pulling and keeping the pace up. At one point Arie told us that we were averaging 16 km/h versus his usual 12 km/h.

Good town names and castles. And with legs fit to collapse we made it to Berwick, a sort of city-state that is part of the United Kingdom, between England and Scotland, but part of neither. Apparently a treaty overlooked them and they are still officially at war with Russia.

We quickly found a room, the last in the Mansergh House, and Arie went on to the hotel. We showered, gathered ourselves, and walked down into town a bit, only to run into Arie in a doorway when it started to rain a bit. We enjoyed another dinner accompanied by great conversation, and then all headed off to bed, exhausted. We probably would have stopped before Berwick if we hadn't been with Arie, and he seemed to think he would not have made it without us pushing on. Well done team.

- rolling post

Edinburgh to Scottish Borders

2011-06-23T09:27:00.000+01:00

Our clothes dry, our saddle sores scabbing over, and our drive trains shiny silver, we set out from Edinburgh on a fairly sunny and warm morning. We waved goodbye to Arie, who was faster out the door than us, knowing that we would probably catch up with him eventually over the next couple of days. I decided that since my bicycle was no longer making a creaking noise, I would fix the other noise maker - my kickstand which had been loose since Denmark. We had no specific destination as we pushed off into Edinburgh morning rush hour traffic (sedate, but with huge buses). First stop: a bakery we had stopped at the day before for some artisan bread (our first since NorCal) and baked treats. Second stop (unscheduled): public library for directions because the R1 bicycle route that we had been following appeared to evaporate as we came out of a park and merged with a large road. Third stop (unscheduled): Bike Station for directions and a map. Bike Station is a lot like the Bicycle Kitchen of my dreams: big, organized, with bunches of clear signs. This is not really fair to the Kitchen of today - I haven't been there is ages.

Yeah, we liked that place. A lot. And they ensured that we got on the right path out of Edinburgh. The first stretch is called the Innocent Railway. Innocent because it was pulled by horses - no engines. Now it is a beautiful bike path through the green.

This turned out to be a stunning day. Lots of rolling hills through beautiful forest or well-kept pasture land. Lots of old rock walls and sheep.

We got one soaking squall in the afternoon, but otherwise the sun was out. Arie had warned us that there was a pretty nice climb on this day. We were now on the North Sea route, which Arie has done before, a few years ago. The climb was an incredibly slow accent, but long.

With, of course, a fantastic view.

Straight along the side of a hill, we just kept going up. At the top we stopped above a wind farm in a valley?

And then began the descent. First, the relatively steep and long hill.

Nothing like going down after you've climbed to the top. At what we figured was the bottom, the road flattened out and we had a surprisingly difficult flat, straight ride through a gorgeous valley. There was a slight head wind.

And then we went around a curve, between the hills, and started to descend again.

Softly at first, but gaining momentum.

Each turn made, we couldn't believe we were still going downhill. At one point Joshua said, "We are definitely below sea level now."

Simply glorious. After maybe an hour of rolling down a gentle slope, we arrived in Innerleithen. We knew Arie had planned to stay in town that night, and we decided to stay, too, after a beer and a large bowl of Chinese food.

We hadn't seen Arie's bike yet, so we thought he might be staying in the other hotel in town. Ramona went to check, and found him in the front bar. We had a fun time catching up after the day we had had - best descent ever, etc. Innerleithen is where the North Sea Cycle route meets up with the Tweed River. Arie needed to be in Newcastle a day earlier than us, and he was planning to catch the ferry the same day as he arrived. We wanted to have at least one night, so we could hang out a bit with Budge. Since our schedules were basically the same, we decided to try to tag along with Arie the following day, and make it a really big one.

- rolling post

Edinburgh

2011-06-22T14:30:00.000+01:00

Aaaah, Edinburgh. What a beautiful city. After spending a few days in the rain, camping in somewhat "wild" places, and showerless, a day of tourism on foot while our laundry was washing was well deserved.

We ate breakfast with Arie, and then we headed to a bike shop. Joshua's rear wheel was still making a creaking noise even after Ramona's excellent truing - in fact the mechanic said the wheel was perfectly true.

So here is a puzzle for all you mechanics.

• creaking noise coming from the back wheel on every rotation - sounds like spokes rubbing together

• wheel had many loose spokes and tightening/truing seems to reduce the volume and frequency of the noise

• creaking gets worse when cranking (climbing or accelerating)

• creaking can happen when the bicycle is being rolled

• the axle is not loose or bent (tested with wheel off the bike by 1. wiggling the axle and 2. observing the axle while spinning the wheel)

• there is a small (very slight) catch when rotating the wheel while holding the axle

• the noise is dramatically effected by how tight the skewer is. Tight skewer = worse: louder noise with less pressure. Loose skewer = better: small noise on every rotation and it take more force on the cranks to produce a creak.

Hints: There is one simple test I should have done which would have identified the problem and the bottom bracket is not at fault.

Post your answers as a comment. Maybe there will be a prize...

The mechanic and the floor staff were nice and wicked helpful. They agreed to wash the drive train on both our bicycles and to adjust/replace our brakes/pads. We have cleaned our chains only a couple of times over the last year, so we had forgotten that all the drive train components were silver and not black. These guys were super thorough. They took the cranks, chains, and cassettes off and ran them through the parts washer. When they took the bottom bracket off the Fargo a puddle of water poured out - probably from the IJsselmeer last summer.

The day was spent wandering around. Joshua got a new rain jacket. We saw some other bike shops. We walked through the golf... lawn.

and a couple of cemeteries. Edinburgh does a good creepy cemetery tour, but we didn't catch one.

Inventor of logarithms. Yeah.

This should be familiar to beer aficionados.

In the park.

There's an amazing view from right by the National Gallery.

And we checked out Edinburgh Castle. From below

and from within. Worth the 15 quid each

At the end of the day we met up with Arie again and had a delicious Nepalese meal and great conversation.

What is a Boat Lift?

2011-06-21T22:47:00.000+01:00

The Fallkirk Wheel was mentioned a lot as I researched how to ride from Glasgow to Edinburgh. I knew it was about halfway, and that it was some kind of destination; I imagined a big, old mill of some kind, on a spectacularly large river. Wrong.

The Fallkirk Wheel is a spectacular feat of engineering. Rather than a traditional canal lock, this baby turns. A boat gets in the bottom, the wheel goes around until it's lined up vertically with the top canal, and the boat gets out at the top. We were lucky enough to see this.

Takes about 4 minutes.

This is where the Forth and Clyde Canal meets the Union Canal (the one up above). We rode up on the bike path, which took a little longer. But at the top, the views are also spectacular. And surreal. The canal just ends out in the air.

We followed the canal through a short tunnel, and then up past a couple of small, more traditional locks, and were back on a canal-side trail again. A lumpy, gravelly, sometimes muddy canal-side trail. Apparently this canal was used for horse-drawn barges.

Not much farther along we came to another tunnel. Yay! A respite from the rain, something slightly different, tunnels are usually fun.

This tunnel is really, really long. 690 yards long, and very, very dark. Here's a photo with flash. Caught some ghosts.

The surface of the path in the tunnel is a slimy and uneven cobblestone, with a wooden rail that is not confidence inspiring. With essentially no vision, on a slimy, narrow path, and a curved tunnel wall, it's not exactly a comfortable ride. But it sure was exciting. And so long. Basically looked like this.

Yeah, very exciting.

Also exciting were some of the bridges.

Yup, that's a boat in a canal. Yes, and Joshua, pushing his bike along a narrow, cobblestone path on a bridge. With a canal in it. I imagined this with horses pulling coal barges across. Yikes. Notice the height of the tops of the trees. Here's a bad photo looking down to the stream below.

But you get the idea. Very high up. Canal on bridge. Walk the bikes. It was near this bridge that we saw Arie again. We shared our disbelief at the tunnel, impressiveness of the Falkirk Wheel, and disappointment in the general state of the "bike path". Also, we were all pretty sick of rain. Arie sent us this photo.

We slogged on through the rain, and when we smelled food and saw a cafe near the canal we stopped for lunch and to dry out a bit. We thought Arie would see us on his way by, but he cruised right along. We were all hoping to reach Edinburgh.

And for us the relief of our first night in a bed & breakfast, a hot shower, maybe even laundry, pulled us all the way into town. The rain only increased, and the path got muddier. Large branches were hanging down in our way. We discovered that the best places to ride were often the puddles, because those were the less gravelly spots along the path.

We did make it, however, and soaked, tired, and sore from all that rattling about. The first B&B we found was full, but they pointed us in the direction of a street where we found a whole row of places to stay. We went to a place that said it had vacancies, and they were happy to have us. They even let us park around the back with our bikes - and spray off our bags and bikes with a hose, to limit the amount of mud we brought inside. What should we see in back? A very distinctive bike that could belong to just one person. Later Arie saw our bikes and we found each other again. Amazingly, we were staying in the same B&B in Edinburgh.

Where we did our best to completely take over the room to dry out our gear and ourselves.

- rolling post

Waking up on the side of the road

2011-06-21T14:26:00.000+01:00

We did manage to sleep a little and morning came early, if not terribly bright. We experienced a new kind of Scottish rain, a heavy drizzle that completely soaks you in a matter of minutes. Joshua made tea and we had a passable breakfast of oatcakes and cheese.

As we made our way back down the coast we did see the "campsite" from the night before. No tent space at all, no tents to be seen, we're guessing no showers either. We boo'd them as we passed.

Just after the path crossed through Stevenson, it entered a really lovely park and the path improved significantly. We spent the morning making pretty good time towards Paisley and Glasgow, unsure of where we would stay that night. Sections of the path went through parks, other sections were on very small roads, and some of the nicest stretches were in a fairly narrow and very green canal of some kind.

It stayed wet, we saw some sights.

We stopped to fix a flat and eat lunch by a bridge. Ramona did some emergency wheel truing for my rear wheel, which was making some ominous noises.

I have wet feet.

Then we are back on the road.

And in Paisley, or just past the town, we decided we were ready to find a spot to camp. We ended up at the edge of a field, behind a fallen tree. More "wild" camping. We got in bed early, as we were pretty exhausted, and heard families and dog walkers passing on the path.

An improvement, but still not ideal. Here's a shot from the following morning, our tent had been just behind that branch.

And it was sunny!

What a difference good weather can make. As we approached Glasgow we managed to get super lost. Missed some sign somewhere when we passed through a lovely estate and ended up about an hour off-course.

But we got to see some interesting riverside paths. The utility poles that are actually inside the bike lane made me think of the Compton Creek bike path and one of my favorite people, Alex Kenefick. This photo is for you Alex.

We finally stopped at a cafe and had bagels and tea. Not sure what to do next, we asked someone how to find the River Clyde. We needed to cross the Clyde and find a connector cycleway along the River Kelvin, which would then take us to the Forth and Clyde canal. I can't remember which one of us realized that we were sitting directly across the street from a library. That was fruitful. The ladies behind the counter let us use the internet, and we figured out where we had gone wrong and decided to backtrack.

Eventually we found our route signs again and the bridge over the Clyde. We got confused again looking for the Kelvin Connector because it's not marked as such. But we guessed correctly that it was the route towards the university, followed the waterway, and ended up on a lovely path along the Kelvin.

Navigating turns out to be difficult in Glasgow.

Perfect time for a break at a riverside cafe.

From the Kelvin it was easy to find the Forth and Clyde canal, as it was well marked. But once on the canal we almost ended up going the wrong way for a third time that day. The canal splits, and the route east goes under the canals after an illogical right turn. And the signs say the near towns, but not Edinburgh, which is pretty much all we knew to head towards.

As we cruised along, a Dutch gentleman, sitting upright on his bike with a couple of Ortliebs on the back and a map on his handlebars came towards us from the opposite direction, flagged us down, and asked where we were heading. We figured out that we were all trying to get to Edinburgh, but that he'd just come from downtown Glasgow somehow and he was quite frustrated. The three of us headed back to the fork, and sure enough there was the sign and the little tunnel under to get us on the right part of the canal.

Arie. Who saved us from going the wrong way and getting frustrated. We rode with him for a bit, and then he said he'd go a little slower and we charged on. But he wasn't that much slower, because when we stopped for a drink a little later that afternoon he was not far behind. We bought him a beer and we had a really nice conversation about choices of more social leaning vs. more business friendly leaning governments. Arie headed back on the road before us, and we didn't see him for the rest of the day. However we knew he would be stopping soon at a B&B, while we rode for at least another couple of hours.

As we got tired we decided to camp right by the path along the canal. Again, not so stealth wild camping. But there was a picnic table and a fairly level spot to put the tent.

This was breakfast.

We saw these swan fledgelings soon after starting out.

- rolling post

Arrival in Ardrossan

2011-06-19T11:00:00.000+01:00

As the ferry arrived in Ardrossan, it started to pour - a brief drenching rain from one of the uncountable squalls coming off the Atlantic. The ride to the campsite was 2 or 3 kilometers. We had seen it online before we left and it looked like the bike path passed right by. there was very nice bicycle path along the coast through town. the tide was way out revealing long sandy beaches and ancient looking jetties, moles, and some bizarre stone sea/land structures with no discernible purpose. outside of town, we started to follow the rail line and the bike path turned to complete shit. we started to see police on foot, in cars, and (a first in the uk) a police helicopter. the rain stopped and a late evening sun poked through the clouds.

The bike path was now between the sea and a heavily fenced train track. Never expect things to be simple. When we started seeing caravans and RVs they were on the other side of the tracks. At least we had located a campsite. It was nearing 9pm. Still quite light out, but time to set up the tent.

There was one crossing to the "campsite". A staircase and pedestrian way over the tracks. We decided to press on in hopes of another option. The break came as we entered town and a street brought us across. We tried tobacktrack butfound ourselves in an empty golf course. Back into "town".

I tried to flag down a police officer, but got only a stony look that made me laugh - the look was meant to be a fuck off, but I had seen one too many of those from LA's finest to be sussed. we split up, trying to penetrate the campsite via rubbish filled alleys and unpromising side streets. I finally found someone to ask for directions. a mildly retarded gentleman and his minders told us to head back to the abandonned golf course, skirt the edge on the dirt road, and look for a whole in the fence. they also told us that there was a madman with a gun on the loose which explained the police helicopter.

The info we got sent us back through the golf course. Sure enough, after mud puddles and a ride down a grassy slope we had arrived.

it was promising, in a European caravan campsite kind of way. lots of permanent and semi-permanent caravans along side mobile RVs with grassy areas all around. a central registration building with what looked like a bar, restaurant, and game room inside. I stepped inside and Ramona stayed with the bicycles. chaos. humid smelly chaos inside, with cheeky youths playing arcade games, hooligans drinking beers and swearing, and older over weight patrons staring at a television in the bar or glued to gambling machines. it was packed. at the bar I inquired about camping and after being directed to a young lady who promptly ditched me, i headed back outside. there two security guards converged on Ramona and I to inform us that all the pitches had been taken.

I tried to explain that all we needed was a little bit of grass, which we saw around us. But no, that would not be possible. We asked about other campsites and they said we should head north of Ardrossan to a place along the beach where lots of people were always camped. "For free!" Boy did that sound bad. But with little choice we headed back out. They directed us to go via the road, and we found the nice beachside path again. About half an hour later we were out of town at a picnic area just outside of town, having passed the ferry terminal and gone over 5 miles in the wrong direction, with little choice. Camping near a road? I guess so.

We set up quickly, tucked all our gear under the tent fly, and locked the bikes lying down, between the tent and the beach. I was not looking forward to sleeping. this was a pull off for a busy road. Ramona did not believe it, but i swear that a man with a prostitute pulled in right after us and parked at the far end of the area. I slept with one eye open and was jolted into full wakefulness several times by car headlights settling on the tent. at one point two very drunk men got out of their car and started arguing unintelligibly while banging on something (their car, the trash can?) over and over again. your pissed Scotsman or englishman is still an unknown quantity for me. often there is the smell of dangerous, mindless, violence barely contained about them. after about 30 minutes they left and the rest of the night passed quietly.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

To Arran / On the Road Again

2011-06-18T10:15:00.000+01:00

The Isle of Arran has been tempting us for two months. So even though it took us way out of the way, and probably added two days to our journey, we decided to cycle a part of it on our way east. We rode the now very familiar route over to Portavadie, stopping to say goodbye to Sophie at The Barn at Millcroft. Then the ferry which we had now traveled on a number of times, and the ride from Tarbert to Kennacraig, where we'd taken the ferry to Islay. Twice.

No round trip tickets for us anymore.

After Kennacraig we didn't know what to expect, which is part of what is fun and exciting about touring. Sure, it was five miles to another ferry. But what kind of hill(s)? We don't exactly use survey maps. And we didn't have a map at all, in fact.

And those five miles turned out to be a little tough. The Scottish roads don't wind slowly up hills - they go straight up. Then again, they often go straight down, too, and we rolled up to the Cloanaig ferry with a few minutes to spare.

On Arran, the town of Lochranza has both a castle and a distillery.

Joshua visited the prison. A dark space in a now ceiling-less castle.

And there are many deer. This one we had to slow down for as it was hanging out in the road.

The detour to Arran was well worth it. The island is just beautiful, the distillery makes a selection of very lovely, slightly briny Scotches. Our favorite was the one aged in a Sauterne cask. Yummmm. Also, the Robert Burns.

Then to some more climbing.

Perhaps you can see the line of the road in the distance? This was a slow meandering climb. With vast, green vistas. Complimented by a long descent on the other side.

We went off that way...

And the rest of the way was along the east coast of Arran, mostly green and lush with some small towns. This is looking back towards the mainland, where we can almost make out Tighnabruaich again.

In Broddick we had a meal, and possibly one of the best meals we had in Scotland, at A Plate of Arran. Joshua had the kid curry and I had an amazing pumpkin risotto with a poached egg on top. Dessert was a chocolate something gooey with pistachios and a scoop of pistachio ice cream. Wow. Truly fine dining. Oh, and fine drinking, too.

For our third ferry of the day, we joined the many drunken hooligans on their way back to Ardrossan. A sign of things to come, unfortunately.

- rolling post

Days Before Departure

2011-06-18T09:00:00.000+01:00

Coming back from the Spar on Tuesday afternoon, we saw a car pull out of a parking space in front of the shop. The driver had left a large black dry bag leaning on the rear bumper of the car. We shouted a bit (not too loudly because Tighnabruaich was relatively crowded with sedate tourists milling about and we did not want to make a scene) and waved our arms to get his attention to no avail. We fetched the bag from the street and found that it was filled with beer. Whoops. He was heading toward the boatyard, meaning that he was probably on a sailboat. The road to the boatyard has no exit so we decided to leave the bag on the sidewalk in front of the Spar and walk back to Rockbank, keeping an eye out for him. If we did not see him, we would hop on our bicycles and catch him at the boatyard. I brought the groceries upstairs and Ramona waited at the street to watch for the man to return. Seeing that he did not, we grabbed our bikes and headed to the boatyard, a 5 minute bike ride. Upon arriving, I saw our man in a dingy rowing to his boat. I hurried down the boat landing and hollered in my loudest shepherd voice, "You forgot your dry bag at the spar!". He reluctantly turned around and rowed the 300 yards back to the landing. He had not understood what I had said and he looked exceedingly annoyed that some bloke was yelling at him across the water. When he was within civil speaking distance I repeated myself and his scowl melted to a grin of supreme gratitude. His name was Rory. He wanted to buy us a beer. We'd saved his ballast! He hurried to his car and back to the Spar. We declined his offer of a beer satisfied that we had done a good deed - always wise before the start of a trip.

Wednesday was another day of waiting for Apple to approve the BikeCount app. Thomas and I had sent our latest appeal to their request for more details about why the app required location services. So with nothing left to do but goof off, Ramona and I decided to go to the Kames Hotel for lunch. We arrived there around 13:00 and ordered beer and nachos. We had a nice chat about Sail 2011 with this year's Greenock liason to the Norwegian tall ship Christian Radich. Then another beer and a talk with Wilma (a candidate to replace Ramona at Wellpark) and her friend Lee. And another beer and who should walk in, but our new best mate Rory and his two crew members. What followed was many many beers and single malts. They would buy a round and we would return the favor. Sometime around 16:00 I received a confirmation from Apple that BikeCount was approved, which was cause enough for a celebration. More beer and single malts. On and on until around 18:00. The crew of the Catalinia and we stumbled out of the Kames completely pissed. Them to their dingy and out the boat and us to our bicycles for the blessedly short ride home. We watched them drift away from shore for many minutes as they struggled to start the engine of the dingy, all of us laughing. We made it home and watched from the window as they motored their sailboat back to their mooring up the Kyle at the Tighnabruaich boatyard. After which I passed out until 2:00 when I woke up drunk and the beginnings of a fantastic hangover. All in all a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon.

On Thursday we said our goodbyes, finished our packing, and nursed our hangovers. All that was left to do was to walk our three boxes of non-tour essential possessions to the post-office and mail them ahead to Switzerland. Friday morning was rainy and, more to the point, windy. It was a force 6 or 7 gale and the Kyle was choppy. After a lot of back and forth about whether to brave the elements or spend a quiet day indoors we opted for the later. My feeling was that we would find wind and rain enough on our bike east across Scotland to counter any claims that we were fair weather cyclists.

Saturday was breezy, but in the right direction. It was drizzling, but not raining. So we were off. We were at the post-office at 9:00 to mail the packages. Each box weighed something like 6 kg and for the two without the computer the cost was about 100US$ to ship. The box with the computer cost something like 300$US to send because we wanted extra insurance which was only available through expedited service. Oh well. We hope it will arrive. Then we are off!

So What's Next?

2011-06-09T15:58:00.000+01:00

We're going on the road again. Oh. Yeah.

As soon as Joshua's app gets approval from the iTunes store, we will pack the 'puter in a box, ship some stuff to Switzerland, load up, and ride out. It's been really fun to spend some time here. Being in one place allows for making of friends, learning of lingo, and exploring. It feels like we've learned the moods of the view.

Now we're thinking we'll do this:

View Tighnabruaich to Edinburgh to Newcastle by bike in a larger map

Not sure which way around after Edinburgh. Not sure if we'll make it to Arran, depending on what day we leave here. Could be we go there for a day trip if we're still waiting. Maybe tomorrow? Who knows? But once we get the email, it'll be us leaving within 24-48hrs. We are that ready.

At Newcastle we get to visit Budge. He might even come meet up with us and ride for a day or two as we approach Newcastle. And then the ferry to Amsterdam, probably on the 20th or 21st of June. Yes, Amsterdam. To see Paul & Marieke. And Amsterdam.

We're looking forward to seeing Den Haag for the first time, and visiting the folks who are Travelling Two, one of our favorite bicycle touring websites. Route will be along the North Sea Route, something like this:

View Amsterdam to... in a larger map

Although maybe we'll continue into France instead of Luxembourg to Germany. No decisions yet, just a rough idea. Maybe with some advice and ideas we'll change paths a few times. Eventually to Zurich, again. And Greece. Back to Zurich. Into Italy...

Riding around the Point

2011-06-09T13:36:00.001+01:00

When we first arrived in Tighnabruaich we went for a little ride, to see how far the road went down the Cowal Peninsula. We found it went in a loop, and we did that. Very nice. We saw lots of lambs who were freshly hatched from easter eggs, and many, many daffodils.

Two months later the lambs are running around, some fields now host cows instead of sheep, and a farmer moves a flock of sheep.

As we approached a curve in the road, we saw that three sheep had been left behind. A mama and her twins. Well, one twin had a bad leg. When we got close, they all got up and started down the road again. Gimpy was clearly struggling. It hopped along for a little bit, and then went to the grass at the edge of the road to rest. I stayed there, while Joshua went ahead to see if he could see the farmer. The road is small and there aren't exactly any junctions. Clearly, a flock of sheep had recently been moving in the same direction as us (sheep poop everywhere). So Joshua came back, grabbed the lamb, and rode it down the road.

This is the pasture they were headed for

Good day for a ride! At least on our peninsula. Above you can see the Isle of Arran getting pummeled by rain. It may look like a smoking volcano, but it's just catching clouds with it's high peaks. Whoops.

This kinda sums up our time here. Sheep, sailboats, lots of water, crazy clouds and unpredictable weather. Rock, gannets circling and diving, green green pastures. We like it here.

We had seen this beach from above before, so we decided to check it out. It is a local destination of some fame. I am learning to better use the camera.

No cars are allowed on the road out to the beach, and it's a bit of a walk. So we did a little 'froadin. I left the camera dangling from my handlebars and on, so I could take photos at a moments notice. Of the road.

And it took a bunch of photos all by itself. Below is one of the better ones.

The road went paved again, which was nice, and then we turned onto a muddy path that petered out into a field.

A bog? A fen? Anyway, we took it very slowly and didn't crash into any mud.

Zee beach! Made it. Someone had a huge kite. A group was doing team building exercises. Otherwise this vast expanse was fairly empty. Clams. Shells. Lots of sand squirts from razor clams.

Joshua got a new handlebar bag

As we were leaving, I noticed a bit of trash and stopped to pick it up. Apparently tobacco companies here don't completely own governmental representatives.

no sh*t!?

This kind of warning doesn't actually affect smokers, I'm told. Too abstract.

What a lovely day out. While we were gone, it had hailed in Tighnabruaich. Four seasons in a day - sometimes in a couple of hours. That's the west coast of Scotland.

Jura, 2 nights

2011-06-01T12:21:00.000+01:00

View Jura for 2 nights in a larger map

So we thought we'd try to go to Islay again. Off we go - first big climb to get over to Portavadie, looks like this from the top:

Ferry ride, more bike, another ferry, and we were back on Islay. We decided we'd take it easier this time, not try to beat the wind, but instead just go to the distillery closest to the ferry, eat some food, and wild camp somewhere near. Turns out there was no food. But Caol Ila (Cull Eela) is a very nice whiskey. They have this great view, too...

See how we are at water level? Well, that took some effort. The ferry is at water level, too. But the road goes up up up, around, and then down down down down to Caol Ila. Disappointed about the lack of a cafe, and knowing the wind would be with us, we decided to go to Jura instead. The Paps beckoned.

Joshua contemplates rowing across

And it was immediately stunning. Off the small ferry, the road turns right. There is just the one road on Jura. It follows the coast south and the turns inland a bit. We climbed a soft grade for a while. Meanwhile on either side, somewhat barren. Although it turns out there's water just everywhere. Hidden streams pour into the culverts on either side of the road.

Not sure what the camera was focused on here...

The weather was working out well. Wind in our favor and kinda sunny. The road rolls up and down all the way to Craighouse, about 8 miles. Most of way there are no trees, it is totally quiet except for the wind. One of my favorite rides ever.

And in Craighouse, there is the one Jura Distillery, and the hotel. There's a cafe, meeting hall/community space, tiny Spar (maybe even smaller than the one in Tighnabruaich), and homes. The campsite is run by the hotel, and they ask a donation to help maintain the field. Bathrooms and showers in the back. Cue the choir.

(l-r) hotel, distillery (foreground) campsite

Our neighbors we'd met on the ferry, a small family carrying a 2.5 yr old on the front child seat and one parent carrying all the gear in a trailer. Camping for about a week. They were there for the Jura Fell Race, which sounds like something out of World of Warcraft. It's a 12 mile run that goes up and down five very steep mountains, including the three Paps. Apparently the winners do it in a little over 3 hours. Anyone participating is a winner in my book.

Our tent. Bikes to keep people (us) from tripping over the fly lines.

Again, choirs. Lots of good light, not that the camera can handle it.

The next morning we decided to go to the distillery. Taste, we did. Buy, we did. Oh, and we bought a couple bottles at Caol Ila, too. Brought them all back to Tighnabruaich. Clearly, we are seasoned bicycle tourists.

My favorite flavor is called Superstition. Also amazing is the Diurach's Own 16yr. Whoa.

We spent the rest of the day walking through town, having lunch at the cafe, and then the afternoon in the hotel bar dining area. Good view, nice scotch, reading books. Wow - two nights in one place!? It rained and the wind blew and we hoped for better weather in the morning.

We got it. It rained all night. But towards morning it started to lighten, and just as we were ready to leave the tent, waterproofs on, everything put away, it stopped raining altogether. We rode back along the beautiful road, saw many, many Jura deer and even heard, then saw, an Eagle. Rare. Also, the copse of trees we'd been stunned by on the way in was as stunning on the way out.

We got a pretty good wind from the north, hitting us on our right sides as we climbed the last of the uphills. Then we turned north and battled through the last two miles towards the ferry. But we made it. And made it back to Tighnabruaich; this has been home for two months. We leave very, very soon.

Rothesay Castle

2011-05-16T15:35:00.002+01:00

Some photos of a day trip (by bus) to Rothesay, where there's a very, very old castle. First erected in 1204, it's gone through some owners since then. Vikings captured it in 1228, then the Scots got it back around 1263. Additions and renovations since then, but it's now a museum. Closed at lunchtime, which is why all the photos are from the outside. The moat is fantastic, complete with swans (which aren't in any pictures, oops).

Islay of Scotch

2011-05-11T16:15:00.000+01:00

View Islay for one night in a larger map

Bike camping! We finally made it out of town, after being here for a month, and braved the wind and rain to do some whiskey tasting on the Isle of Islay (pronounced eye-luh).

Joshua and the bikes - loaded. We didn't take everything. In fact I forgot some important stuff, like my sarong aka the towel and the scarf I use as a pillow case. Bummer. Oh well, not a big trip really.

Just two ferries. The first was a tiny thing. Not sure what the new camera was focused on in this photo...

But they had a bar and ropes just so we could tie up the bikes.

And the second was a bit bigger. We were early and spent some time in the ferry terminal where we met a group of Rabbis who were going on their 10th annual Whiskey tour. They were from all over (London, Scotland, Los Angeles, etc) and were quite curious about our cycling adventure. We also met a fellow cyclist waiting in the Kennacraig terminal, on a solo trip through the Hebrides of Scotland. Hugh, age 70, got a rare photo of the two of us as we came into the Sound of Jura.

And here's Jura itself, the mountains are called the Paps of Jura.

But we didn't go to that island, we went to Islay, right next door. Islay is most famous for the Scotch Whiskies Laphroaig and Bowmore, but there are a total of eight distilleries on the island, and one on Jura.

What they say about the islands is that you never know what the weather will be like, except that it's going to be windy. And windy it was. We managed to avoid getting rained on, just barely, but there was nothing to do but fight through the wind all the way to the campsite. We managed to convince Hugh to join us at Port Mor, just past Port Charlotte, especially after he found out there was no food at the campsite he had planned to stay at. We had some insider information from some locals who said Port Charlotte is the nice place to go - so we went west and got pounded by the wind.

Just as the rain started to fall, we approached the town of Bruichladdich, where I knew there was a distillery to visit. Joshua stopped, thinking we'd put on some rain gear. I convinced him and Hugh to go on another few hundred feet, until we reached the distillery, where we were met by walls of Scotch. After the beating we'd taken from the wind, a wee dram was just what we needed. We tasted something old and something older. It was all delicious. Hugh mailed home a bottle and we decided we'd come back again the next day.

Once the rain stopped, we went outside to a beautifully sunny and quiet day. The change in weather was unbelievable, especially the lack of wind that we were met with. We made it the extra 3 miles or so to the campsite and got set up just as the wind started to blow again. Apparently some folks had broken a tent pole the night before, so everyone was camped behind the fence. We followed suit, although it meant sleeping on a slant.

Here's Hugh and his amazing solo set up:

We set up shortly afterward, and we decided to walk back down the road to the town of Port Charlotte for dinner at the Port Charlotte Hotel - which was fabulous. Of course, while we had dinner it rained and the wind was crazy. And when we were walking back to the camp the weather was threatening but not wet.

Joshua and I had thought to stay a second night, after spending Tuesday riding around without gear, tasting whiskies. But due to the intense wind, we decided to ride east and not bother coming west at the end of the day again. We visited Bruichladdich again, to taste the rum cask whiskey and the organic whiskey, and we bought a small bottle of the organic to take with us. We also ran into the gaggle of Rabbis who we'd met on the ferry. They had just completed the tour and were thrilled to see us again. Rabbi Ari from London asked that we take some photos with him. He even got on my bike and rode around the parking lot. Impressive, considering it wasn't quite his size.

We then decided that instead of another wild night of wind and rain, we'd catch the afternoon ferry back and head home that night. So I took some pictures.

And we pedaled for all we were worth. Again avoiding rain, we made the ferry just before it started to come down again, but got some stunning views with the tail wind that took us there.

And again, when we arrived back in Tighnabruiach, we were in the house only a few minutes before it started raining. Then we got this amazing view of a sun dog out above the point.

new camera! office! view!

2011-05-05T18:36:00.000+01:00

more soon...

mr. rogers spring

2011-04-17T15:00:00.000+01:00

Now I understand why daffodils and lambs in green fields are emblematic of Easter. In the last three or four days I have seen more daffodils and lambs than I think I've seen in the rest of my life. I can practically see the hills on the Isle of Bute, across the Kyles of Bute, turning green. Each day is less brown, more blindingly green. We can sit and watch the rain come across the water, greying the view of the farms and hills. Then the sun comes burning out again. Of course the grass is turning green.

The coast here has about a nine foot tide, the water moving in and out with barely any waves. Farther towards the ocean, the wind is creating whitecaps. But here the water is clear. Tiny kelp islands are not waving. As clouds move overhead the surface of the water reflects silver and becomes opaque, and the room feels chill. Put on cardigan. Just as quickly the sun is back and the water is transparent again. Take off cardigan.

There's an old pier that becomes submerged at high tide.

There are no photos, due to no camera, so instead there will be maps.

View Larger Map

A few days ago we rode around the southern most part of the Cowal Peninsula. We had planned to go to Kames, where we'd heard there was a slightly larger store than the one down the street here in Tighnabruaich. I'm just barely able to say Tighnabruaich with a straight face. I feel the need to cringe because I am sure I'm butchering it.

Kames is very close, and the road keeps going along the water. Why not keep going? Eventually we turned inland to cross the peninsula, after going through the most beautiful sheep farm possible. Brand new lambs stumbling around on legs that are clearly too long, panting sheep lying in the grass about to have their own.

We kept going, and saw it was possible to make a loop. Everything is beautiful. The beer is inexpensive. We can walk past bustling downtown Tighnabruaich - post office, shops, cafes, store, and hotel - in less than 5 minutes. Town continues a bit farther, mostly homes and inns, all lined up along the road that follows the coastline.

Daffodils. So many daffodils. Everywhere. And in the forests just outside of town the ground is covered in moss, trickling with streams, and yellow flowers poke out in patches of sunlight.

To get out here we did this:

View Larger Map

The final climb up to 200m was long, but reasonable. Tomorrow, perhaps a day trip to Rothesay, on the Isle of Bute. Already ordered a camera.

- rolling post

Scotland no camera

2011-04-08T17:42:00.000+01:00

The good news: we rode from Greenock to Tighnabruaich, about 30 miles with the shopping we did beforehand, and we were elated and exhausted when we finished. Apparently muscle memory is real, whether you break a foot or not. Riding a bicycle? F'ing awesome. And it is so beautiful here. Different from fjords and snow and Norway-beautiful. Spring is happening for real already and there are daffodils everywhere. Everywhere. Amazing.

I'd go ahead and post a photo of some daffodils, but it looks like my camera is gone. Yesterday we climbed some major 20% grade BS, then down, and then we climbed a more reasonable slope for a much longer period of time. Near the top is one of the best viewpoints in all of Europe - or so the locals say. After the day we had, I can say that arriving there I was stunned by the view. Just perfect. I'd already given up my bags to the manly man in our couple. That's right, Joshua went heroic and carried my bags, too. (Much of our gear will arrive by mail, so we were two bags each, therefore Joshua could take over mine). But upon arrival at such an amazing viewpoint, well... I took some photos. Of the two birds we have with us now. Cashmere Chicken has a friend, see post below entitled 'Stowaway'.

Alas, you'll not see that photo either. I'm pretty sure I left my camera at that very fine viewpoint. I am so certain that today I took a taxi up there to see if it was still sitting on the panorama interpretation table. No dice. I will check the hotel in town, in case someone heading this way saw it there and tried to return it. You never know. Meanwhile, sadly missing Norwegian buddies.

Not the best photo ever, but you get the idea. It's cold. There's a waterfall (rainbow included), and the very bright sun is shining in our eyes. Ah, well. Let's go see the waterfall from behind.

Caption for the above photo: "Man. That was a pretty good little camera. Crap."

Postcards galore. Point is... we'll be lonely here for the first little while. Or maybe it's that we'll appreciate the quiet and calm, no one to worry about but ourselves, simple meals, simple days - for a few days. And then we'll just be wishing for kids to wrestle with and make puzzles with and listen to. Where can we get some of those, anyway? Oh yeah.

We went from one very special household to another. Thanks to Norway and team Natalia for being just awesome. Now we have a beautiful little flat to keep warm on a... kyle? A kyle of Bute? Still getting used to the Scottish language. So far, I understand Norwegian children better than drunk Scottish students boozing on the train. What can you do? Buy a new camera. Maybe even a waterproof one this time.

Spring is on it's way and so are we

2011-04-02T20:38:00.000+01:00

Well, it rained today. Really hard. And the snow is melting fast. There's still a lot of snow, but the roads are clear.

So out came the bikes!

We rode up and down the driveway, testing the bikes and ourselves. Everything seems to work okay! Brakes were a little squeaky at first, but that's to be expected.

And in a few days we'll leave our happy cozy Norwegian paradise. We are going to miss the warm, busy, cozy, full home here. Little monsters and elves running everywhere - laughing, crying, shrieking, hugging, smiling.

But the time has come, and our next destination is calling - we'll be house-sitting in Scotland until June 1st or so. Hopefully we'll do our share of small trips while we're there, just a bit west of Glasgow in a very tiny town. Then in June we'll bicycle our way through the UK, visiting our buddy Budge in Newcastle, and at some point we'll take a ferry to The Netherlands. Back to Amsterdam! Yay!

Stowaway

2011-04-02T20:30:00.000+01:00

Somebody snuck into the bag before we left Monterey...

another day in the snow (before it started raining)

2011-03-21T14:49:00.001Z

The snow is about half as tall as it was yesterday, at least at our altitude. I don't know if the scenery has changed up on the mountain, where we were yesterday.

Natalia, kids, Joshua and I made our way up to Fitjadalen, where there's that little hut by the lake... Yeah, it wasn't exactly easy access this time.

Climbed over the snow bank to...

A nice place for a fire...

It was pretty cozy.

Joshua did a lot of rolling around in the snow.

Then we went for a walk...

Jasmin gets towed on the sled. Joshua only ran her into the snow a few times.

Go to sleep little munchkins.

Demonstrating the height of the snow along the road - it's as tall as Joshua!

- rolling post

shoveling/weather report

2011-03-15T18:47:00.001Z

I keep shoveling but the snow keeps falling!

a few days ago the snow was pretty deep. today we had scattered sunshine and we took a walk up the hill.

aaaaand... the view.

- rolling post

Enough Snow? No!

2011-03-09T18:13:00.000Z

The snow situation here is awesome. Joshua and I went on a walk a couple of days ago, up the road, past where the tractor plow does not go.

obligatory icicles photo

Joshua rolled a giant snowball, but wouldn't roll it down the hill. We pushed it to the side.

obligatory moss shot?

The next day Anders took the kids skiing up on the neighboring mountain. There are cross-country loops, but the kids just went up and down a small hill for a while. Good views.

And maybe you're wondering just where our bicycles are? Well. They're here. Upstairs.

yesterday v. today

2011-03-07T10:55:00.001Z

Yesterday we went out for another snow play day. It even snowed on us for a few minutes! Very exciting.

This morning we woke up to this:

That was hours ago. It's still snowing.

We love snow.

- rolling post

More Snow Fun

2011-03-04T13:33:00.001Z

What do you do with a bunch of little kids when it's snowy out for months at a time? Bundle 'em up and put 'em outside. It's raining today, which feels strange when there's about 3 feet of snow on the ground. Yesterday it snowed for a while, and then when the clouds were kind of clearing we went out and had some snowy fun. We made a little snow-woman. The kids used sleds on their backyard to great effect. They get so bundled up they can't see, hear, walk, hold on to hardly anything. Hats, mittens, wool pants over wool leggings, wool sweaters over wool undershirts, huge one-piece snow suits, and boots that are made to be tripped over. But did they have a blast? Of course!

Creepy little snow lady

Help getting out from under the table

Even a picnic table can be an adventure.

And here's a photo from a few days ago when the snow was still nice enough to ski in - Joshua coming up the hill after a wee ski.

Walking!

2011-02-26T19:57:00.000Z

Walking is really cool. I will never take it for granted again that I can use both legs.

So the foot is healing. What a difference two weeks has made. Two weeks ago I was still completely dependent on crutches. Now, I've given them up completely and I even lift up the small children in the house. I'm now in training to be walking into town and back a couple times a day by the end of the month. Not a terribly long walk, maybe 20 minutes downhill, but uphill is a killer, and takes much longer. Not to mention the ice and snow on the way.

Walking is really cool.

Planning Begins Anew

2011-02-24T14:23:00.000Z

I still can't walk, really. But we are planning anyway. We hope to be in Greece by the end of July. That sounds ambitious, but it's a good way to start. I've learned a lot about aiming high and not feeling devastated when things don't work out exactly as planned. Maybe we will only make it as far as Sweden by July.

After Greece, maybe Turkey. Or Italy. Other places to hit over the summer: Germany, Switzerland, Austria? Or perhaps we will start by going straight over the water to Scotland and working our way south via the UK. That would mean a stop in Amsterdam. Oh, Amsterdam!

We are actively looking for house-sitting gigs, which also might change the direction we travel. If you know of anyone who needs a couple of former chamber-maid/stewards to take care of their place for a few weeks this summer, please send them our way.

And check out our new 'Links to Other Useful Sites' page!
--------->
There's more to add. If we've forgotten something, please just let us know. More new pages are in the works.

If you've been reading our blog for a while, and know how we traveled last summer, it will be obvious to you that everything can change quickly for us. We totally had a plan last year, and only the major elements didn't change over the course of the summer. Something similar will probably happen this year.

And by the way: Thanks for sticking with us.

- rolling post

What is Going On?

2011-02-20T16:45:00.000Z

We are finally back on track! That's what's going on. We spent four months in northern California, unexpectedly, and a few weeks ago we re-booked our return flight to Norway. The snowy photos? Norway. The hats? Knit by me (gimpy). I'm figuring out hats.

My foot is still not completely healed. I am supposed to wear the boot, but I'm allowed to stop using crutches. Took a week, but now I can walk around crutch-free while wearing the boot. It still hurts, but in that haven't-walked-in-four-months way. My foot needs some serious training. Which it gets. Walking, standing, ABC's, and coming soon: walking in the pool. Now that feels good.

It doesn't look like I'll get to do any skiing, which means Joshua has to do double duty. He bought some used cross country skis yesterday at the 2nd hand store for 60kr (about $10) and today Anders took him on a little adventure. They were gone for about an hour and a half, and Joshua came back having crashed twice, tired, and expecting to be sore tomorrow. Good stuff.

It's 5:45pm, and still a little light out. Joshua just came in and is now lying on the rug in front of the stove. Not quite dark enough to turn on the lights, but very soon we will.

It is quiet.

Natalia and kids are not yet back from a trip to visit Bestemoor (grandma), but tomorrow the house will be full again, and a routine that starts at 6am will become regular.

We will be adding a couple of things to the blog in the coming weeks. Firstly, a section about planning a bicycle tour, including resources we used and packing lists. Then I will write a little novel about a broken foot, in case other people in the world are having the problems that I did.

Welcome back!

every day

2011-02-20T15:52:00.002Z

around this time, I want to go out and take pictures of the mountains.

- rolling post

snow is nice

2011-02-19T14:55:00.001Z

- rolling post

it has not been windy here recently

2011-02-17T20:35:00.001Z

- rolling post

Knitting Coziness While Knitting Bone

2011-01-01T01:09:00.001Z

Four more weeks!! This time in blue. With a black heel.

It is a pretty color, and I still match some of my knee-high, argyle socks. But four more weeks in a cast!?!? Yikes.

I only complain because I can. I know how much better I have it than... whoever. I'm just feeling sorry for myself so you don't have to. The doctor says it's doing great! He's glad we went this route, and he says I'm lucky and I'm healing up well! Okay, super.

My mom, with love in her heart, gave me a card that says 'you've had a really hard year,' or something to that effect, referring to my poor foot. I laughed. I hope this was a hard year, because imagine the good years to come. I've had a disappointing couple of months, but all around, 2010 has been awesome.

Here is my ode to 2010 on New Year's Eve:

January: Wedding number 1 by bicycle, my own,
February: Laid-off (yes!),
March, April: Staying home, gathering gear, and
lemonade goodbyes,
May: Garage/party sales, goodbye weight of possessions, best going away party ever,
June: Left the big city, left behind a fun life, good friends, breathed the fresh air of home,
wedding number 2 by bicycle, 8 hours at a winebar, full bank account, one-way flight to Switzerland,
July, August, September: carefree, car-free,
plan-as-we-go,
practically weightless,
rain-or-shine,
friends all over the world, new and old,
bicycles, camping, detox, de-stress, slow down,
wedding number 3 by bicycle (and boat),
October: home again, grandma time, wedding number 4 by stretch hummer, broken foot,
November, December: gimpy, blessed with patient, caring, careful, active, tireless Joshua, a lot of fun family time (holidays), knitting knitting knitting, movies, books, wood stove, walker (roller), crutches, manly muscular arms, doctor visits, exchanging casts, knitting, quiet.

My complaints are... facetious. Therapeutic. Lemonade.

X-mas was fun.

we did some cycling! surrey-style. my mom was the fourth.

Corina bought us beeswax for make-your-own candles (Joshua did the 3 wick magic)

serious business (am I standing?)

mom, lighting the rum, plum pudding on fire

Knitting knitting knitting? You ask, excited.

I don't have a lot of creative talents. I like being creative, but not publicly (ha ha to those who might point out the blog). Cooking is one way I enjoy being creative. And by creative I mean creating things that are beautiful or useful or delicious. And wow, I can't cook on crutches. Luckily my cousins and aunt were all knitting at Thanksgiving, and I was given an extra set of needles and some spare yarn. I forgot that I knew how to knit. And so I've been creating things since then, oh-so-satisfying.

now lives in LA

now lives in Oakland

(love the crutch-feet in this one)

now lives in NY

now lives in Monterey

this one I have not yet sold; it could be yours!

There are a few more out there already (guess what everyone got for x-mas). And I started an etsy.com site: http://knitandride.etsy.com. There's not much on there right now. Of course, it's been my friends who've actually bought them. Etsy is a case of too bad, just way-so-much stuff to wade through. The chance of someone finding my stuff is almost zero percent. So don't be shy about passing along the site to people you know - hint-hint. I can knit to order, too. Working on a custom job now, will post photos when the sun comes out.

These babies are called cowls, or neck gaiters. Talk about a need for re-branding. Neck gaiter, anyone? We talked about this over x-mas, and brainstormed some new ideas. I keep saying neck cozies, because... well... I'm practical. But someone (probably my brilliant sister) came up with the name 'no dip scarf'. You won't dip it in the trash can when you take out the trash. You won't dip it in a puddle when you bend down to tie your shoes. You'll never dip it in your tea or coffee. And most importantly, you'll never dip it in the toilet.

Alas, to re-brand at this point would mean nobody would search and find my no dip scarves. So cowls they remain.

Wow, I wish I was blogging about bicycle touring. Where is my bicycle? Norway. As soon as I can walk and drag a rolling suitcase, we will be re-united. In massive snowstorms.

Happy New Year everyone!

Free Business Cards Arrive

2010-12-14T22:56:00.000Z

Wow - boring post for those of you who already know how to get in touch with us. But we're excited! We ordered some free Vistaprint business cards so that in the future when we meet people along our way we can hand over the card so they can actually remember the blog info. And our names.

Foot Update - Bones are Magic

2010-12-11T01:23:00.000Z

Finally some good news! It was getting pretty grim, just before Thanksgiving - my foot wasn't really healing visibly, the doc decided to put it in a cast, perhaps he would even recommend surgery afterall... gaaak! But just two weeks later and all is turned around. The latest x-ray experience was very exciting. The problem is a space, just under a centimeter wide, between the two shards of my broken metatarsal. When we went back for the 3 week check-up, the doc was surprised to see not a lot of healing going on. I had no idea what that meant at the time, because I was having a hard time envisioning the particulars of healing bones. I figured they might grow towards eachother? Slowly adding cells until they bridged the gap?

The x-ray educated all (Joshua and me) about what happens; now there is a hazy whiteness between the two pieces of bone. There are new bone cells just growing in between the two pieces. Magic! So I'm back in the hot seat in Elk, my back to the wood stove, and patiently waiting to see what happens in another 4 weeks! That'll be just after Christmas. Another week past that, perhaps, and I'll get my foot back... how much fun is that!?

I dreamt last night that I was running, literally running, around my high school. I was supposed to be in class, but instead I ran around playing frisbee on the football field, sprinting to try to catch the 'bee and not making it. Then I was running around full speed in the gym, playing basketball and loving every moment. I woke up with the feeling that I should be playing some basketball, what with all the free time I have right now, and how wonderful it feels to run. But it's cool. I'm working on hand-made Christmas presents.

I've gained important skills in sitting still and using crutches. Next up: knitting bone and learning to walk on two legs again. Below, the phases of this particular foot break. Sorry I don't have the digital x-rays. Things are a little low-tech with my used-to-be-head-podiatrist-for-the-Oakland-A's-in-the-80s-when-they-won-the-pennant awesome doctor.

The boot. Fun while it lasted.

Dead Sea mud treatment

Elephant. Can't even tell it's broken.

Caltrans #2 of 2 (they over-ordered on Halloween colors)

If I need a third cast, it might be black. Or maybe they'll have ordered some new colors? Joshua likes the orange. For safety.

And on another safety note (TSA), we did travel over Thanksgiving and I got to experience the feel-down for the wheelchair-bound first hand. Very handy. The lady in SF was a Korean Pat look-alike, short, curly hair-cut and everything. She was super professional, and I liked her. She warned me that she'd be touching my inner thighs, around my waist and breasts with the backs of her hands, and the rest of me with the front of her hands. She asked if I was okay with that. I said yes. She then asked if I wanted to go to a private room with her for this... I said no, thank you.

Wheelchair service is awesome. Joshua especially loved it, blowing past the people waiting in line. Of course he just had to carry the bags and follow, but the value wasn't lost on me, either. And yes, most people tip the wheelchair driver.

Apple Picking in Massachusetts

2010-11-19T17:31:00.000Z

Whoa! Massachusetts!? That's right - we left Norway to go to a wedding in California, but stopped on the way in Boston. Cousins! I have a cousin named Josh, also, and his wife Deb, and kids Lucy and Marta, housed us for a long-weekend visit. Joshua's mom, Judy Moody, came down from Maine and visited with all of us, too. We played Apples-to-Apples, Jewish Edition, and walked around the neighborhood. And one day we went apple picking. I have never eaten so many apples - they were delicious. I was basically sick with apples by the time we left.

Lucy and I have been best friends since she was two

Cousin Josh

Kids these days

mmmmmmm, good apple

Ramona, Lucy, Marta

They also had pumpkins. And Lucy balanced hers on her head...

St. Michaelsmas

2010-11-15T17:45:00.001Z

We celebrated with the Norwegians, back in September, a little holiday called St. Michaelsmas (link to Natalia's blog post about it). The story goes something like a hobbit tale - a terrible dragon was terrorizing a village. St. Michael came down and saved everyone, and now we make dragon bread! Something of a harvest festival, so the table was made up with a harvest tray that Joshua and I gathered and arranged. Each kid (Ramona & Natalia included) made a dragon, Joshua and Noa collaborated. Then we asked Anders to figure out who made which one, and he guessed correctly. Then we ate them! Noa, Lea, and Jasmin wore crowns and capes and fancy dresses. Yes, even Noa - he insisted on wearing a dress like his sisters.

Dragons!

Before We Left Norway

2010-11-15T01:40:00.000Z

We had a lot of fun during our 2+ weeks in Norway... Natalia and Anders manage to get out with their three kids every day, more than once, rain or shine. They get them dressed up in little rain suits with rain boots, or if it's sunny they wear a couple of layers of wool and tiny little hiking boots. There are fresh rolls most mornings, and beeswax candles glowing when it's dark out. There are little munchkins running around almost all the time, and it couldn't be lovelier.

Just a walk/ride up the road is a good time...

Joan of Arc! and Noa

Visiting the elf shelter, leaving them some nice rocks and pine cones

Not a bad view from up on the hill

Hanging around the house picking clover:

And riding the bike or trike up and down the driveway...

No brakes!

He comes in fast, but manages to take the turn like a pro

No, you stand there!

Goofin' in the back yard.

Noa successfully knocks Joshua off the lower rope

Back in September

2010-11-14T05:01:00.001Z

Three More Big Bites posted a recipe for a Greek Yogurt Tart, and being in Norway, eating lots and lots of creamy Greek yogurt, I decided to try it out. I know this is not a food blog, but I had to mention this because it was so fun. And delicious.

Sorry about the poor photo quality. As you can see, I managed to float some blueberries by not heeding the instruction to carefully spoon the custard onto the fruit. I used blueberry jam mixed with frozen blueberries. I wish I could blog about riding a bicycle, but as you probably know, I can't ride right now. Soooooon!

A Lot Has Happened

2010-10-23T23:45:00.001+01:00

Well, things have changed for this cycling duo. Our time in Norway was truly lovely. We spent a little over two weeks with Natalia, Anders, their three kids, and Jon-Kristian. We ate beautiful food, went for many long walks, took our unloaded bikes on a bit of a mountain bike ride, and participated in political protest. We each took our bikes up to the high lake, Fitjadalen, and explored without our gear. We rode the very few kilometers into town (5 mins, downhill), and back up again to the house (20+ mins, uphill). We even went into Norheimsund to see if we could find some boots so we could stomp around in the muddy woods with everyone. I would write more about it all, because it is a beautiful and inspiring life being lived on the fjord, but I recommend checking out the links above for Natalia's fantastic photos and perspective.

At the end of September, we were scheduled to fly back to California for our third wedding of the summer. Our plan was to fly back, stopover in Boston to see family, then spend a week or so in northern California with my (Ramona's) grandma and dad, before heading to the wedding for a long weekend of events. Our return flight to Norway was scheduled for the Sunday night after all wedding activities were over.

The wedding was a big one. I was a bridesmaid. Full length, strapless black dress and black heels, plus professionally applied make-up and hair. I didn't recognize myself when I looked in the mirror.

The wedding party. Can you find Ramona?

Here we are, after the ceremony. I am threatening to cut off my feet to stop the pain.

We got to see a lot of my oldest friends, and very good friends they are. Plus my immediate family was all there. All in all it was a pretty good party, until I broke my foot.

5th metatarsal, dislocated and broken. And I had already taken the heels off! I was wearing flats, dancing on the dance floor, attempting to jump an imaginary jump rope, and somehow I stubbed my toe so hard it broke a bone. The doctor said wearing the heels all day probably stressed it, and then I must have kicked something really hard. I did not notice it was broken right away, mind you. I kept dancing. Joshua finally dragged me off the dance floor after we had this conversation five times.

Ramona: My foot really hurts.
Joshua: Do you want to stop dancing and take a look at it?
Ramona: No.

At first nobody, not even me, could believe I had broken it - sprained, maybe. We spent three months biking across Europe with no injuries to speak of, and on a flat surface, in flat shoes I managed to do a lot of damage? As one of our cycling buddies in LA (also a consistent blog reader, awesome commenter, and generous donor to Where is Your Bicycle) said: "I always tell people not to dance. Dancing is dangerous." We used to ride our bicycles in Los Angeles together. It gave me a good laugh, bittersweet though it was.

Changed plans; Joshua spent a lot of time getting the airlines to waive change fees for our trip back. My dad drove us back to his house. Here we are, back in the northern CA woods, me on the couch with my foot in the air all day.

After input from one MD (who took the x-ray and told me of the brokenness), three orthopedic surgeons, a number of doctors and nurses who are friends or colleagues of friends, I finally got the option I was hoping for. Almost everyone said it would not heal very well, and that I risked future pain, possibly re-breaking and surgery, if I didn't do something. Surgery was recommended, which would include a pin that may or may not need to be removed in the future, and also the potential for chronic pain.

Did I mention we left our health insurance in Europe? Travel insurance is only good while you are traveling out of the country. One surgery, as an out-patient, would put us somewhere between $10,000 and $20,000 into medical debt. Imagine if I had to go back to take the pin out. It looks like there are programs to help, for people who are over 65, under 21, blind, disabled, pregnant, veterans, already on another program that I don't qualify for, or have children. It looks like there may be a county option that I do qualify for, but I have yet to figure that out.

There's also the fact that I was injured at an event, which no doubt has insurance. Now that I know that I must have stubbed my toe in some way, I am going to call them again and tell them about how the sections of the dance floor moved and created ledges as people danced on them. Both Joshua and my dad experienced that. Anyone else?

But here's the good news: the orthopedic surgeon who is a foot and ankle specialist, most qualified to make a judgement and give advice, said he can fix it enough so that it'll heal without surgery. He believes that because I am young, healthy, and active, I will heal a broken bone. The problem is the dislocation of the little piece of bone, close to the toe, which will cause it to heal slightly shorter than it used to be. So he's going to numb my foot really well (I pray) and then move that bone back into place, so it can heal correctly. He called it 'distraction'. I will be the one needing distracting, but if he wants to distract my bone, too, and help me avoid surgery, I am on board.

Now I am waiting for that, and then the 6-8 weeks of healing and recuperation will begin. Luckily we can stay here with my dad and our tickets are good for a year. Our bikes (and our hearts) are still in Norway. We called to say hi one day and I was in tears listening to the little Norweigian voices on the other end of the phone. I still don't know enough Norwegian to talk to a two year old about much, but the meaning came through - they wanted to tell us it has started to snow and they went out to play in it, they want us to come back and see it all with them. Noa asked if we could come read him a book.

So I have told my foot that we will be back on a bike by next spring, continuing our touring fun. At the latest, I hope to be back in Norway after New Year's, but some have suggested I go now and pretend I didn't realize my foot was broken so I can benefit from the comprehensive health care they've got over there. Tempting.

Joshua and I are both looking for the kind of work one can do from a farmhouse at the edge of the redwoods. I have a lot of time and no mobility - and when Joshua is not taking care of me he's working on his first iPhone app. He's going to teach me Cocoa; perhaps I will write computer programs, too. My Intro to Comp Sci professor should be proud to have made such a positive impression on me.

In the meantime, I'll take all the movie and book recommendations I can get. Just finished The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo and ordered the other two books of the trilogy online. Whoa, good. And we watched one of the best movies I have ever seen, a Swedish film called 'As It Is In Heaven'. I will post more photos of the proceedings. Starting with the comfrey compress my dad applied: gooey, black-green foot masque.

And yes, I do accept healing vibes sent from however far away. Thanks to all of you that have already sent love, it helps.

Making it to Norway

2010-09-14T19:01:00.005+01:00

Hirtshals for 2.5 days... Day 1, secure tickets to Bergen and walk on the beach.

Riding out to the ferry terminal, past beautiful white sand beach

Day 2, Oceanarium. Where they have a sunfish!

And sea lions you can swim with! Just kidding, they had a tunnel under the water. Pretty fun. They also had a little feeding show with them where they waved and did little tricks. The Oceanarium is all about the North Sea, and we learned a lot.

Spies' meeting

Don't touch

The morning of our ferry day we were very early. We ended up waiting in the queue a long time, but were rewarded by being able to ride our bikes right up into the huge ferry! We had a cabin, on the inside, with no windows, so we spent a lot of time on the upper deck while it was light out.

First glimpse of Norway!

We slept pretty well, after a few games of Spite and Malice, with the most expensive decks of cards ever. And we were arriving in Bergen around 8am, so we were up very early, ready to get out as soon as we hit land. We even got to ride off first! Woo hoo!

We spent the morning in Bergen, trying to plan how to ride to Øystese over the mountains. When we had pretty much settled on a route, we ran into a cyclist who asked us about our trip and plans. When we said we were riding over the mountains he agreed that we had the best route and said it was a pretty good ride, he had done it before. However, he then checked the weather and told us that the biggest rains in a long time were predicted for the following few days, and maybe it would be nicer to hop on a bus. Oh, right, and it was going to be windy...

The bus is 1.5hrs, then we ride for 20 minutes up a huge hill. The ride over would be about 80km, up and down many huge hills. In wind and rain, with traffic and no shoulder for much of it, no thanks! We took a bus, and before we knew it we were in Norheimsund, where Anders works. We surprised him, and he grabbed his bike and rode home with us! By 4pm we were cozy in the house with Natalia and Anders and their three kids.

Anders!

Here we come, final few kms

We arrived on Sept 13th, and the next day was our birthday. We were celebrated with fresh chocolate croissants baked by Anders and birthday crowns, and even presents! The next few days it did rain a lot, and it rains less on the fjord than over towards Bergen. It was sad not to ride from Bergen, both of us were a little disappointed. Since then we have ridden up and down the big hill a few times. Trying not to lose our legs right away. Now we have been here for almost two weeks and it has flown by.