Gordon goes Global

I’m a middle-aged solo touring cyclist and these pages will keep you up-to-date with my current travels. I’m hoping to ride a couple of thousand miles round the North Sea Cycle Route this year (July/August 2008), which should be easier (and cheaper) than some of the stuff I’ve tried before.

Since 2005, all my tours have been completed on a fixed-wheel or single-speed bicycle. This is unusual, but I enjoy the simplicity of riding with only one gear.

Thanks very much for the messages, it is my first time at a PC for several days, and I’m glad to say that I’m still moving slowly along - despite the heat. Each day has reached 32 degrees apparently, although some of the digital thermometers in the towns are showing 35 by teatime.

The trip is good, although I’m frustrated that Germany is nearly as flat as Holland . I’d expected a few hills to liven things up, but no such luck. I’ve been under-geared for the whole trip so far... I moved away from the coast a few days ago, because the route was mainly along the inside slope of a 20metre dyke. I had to climb up every so often - shooing off the sheep - just to see the sea. Anyway, this end of Germany is very, very pretty. The houses are beautifully decorated and everyone seems prosperous and friendly. My German is coming on in leaps and bounds - from zero to at least ten words now.

I’ve ditched the Poland idea and turned north for

Denmark

. Poland was always a stretch too far and my zig-zagging route puts plenty miles on the bike computer, but doesn’t get me that far across the country. I’m back on my near-original plan to get to the top of Denmark and pick a ferry to Norway or Sweden that will allow me to finish at Bergen on the right day.

The camping is fine. My little tent and I always find some space amongst the holidaymakers with their huge set-ups. We have had cataclysmic downpours on most nights and I’m glad to say that the tent is still waterproof. The thunderstorms are really spectacular, although the sound of children crying thought the thunderclaps in all the adjacent caravans is sad.

I really need to buy a plate though. I feel a bit self conscious eating my dinner straight from the pan when everyone else has a complete plastic dinner service (with plastic wine goblets too.) I lost my lock somewhere yesterday, it must have bounced off at some point and I didn’t notice. I bought a new one just before I came in to this cafe.

Cycling here is easy. There are bike paths along 90% of the roads (even across country) and I use them most of the time. Bikes are banned from many roads in Holland where the paths exist, but here we cyclists use the roads comfortably if the path surface is rough or there are pedestrians around.

The huge difference is priority. Where a bike path crosses a junction, the bike has priority. That has taken some getting used-to, but it means that your progress is continuous and comfortable. There isn’t any problem as cars and lorries just stop and let all the bike traffic go straight across and only move when it is clear.

I am on the island of Sylt this morning - a long story, but basically the YH at Neibull was full, so I got the train out here. There isn’t any road access but the train comes over the southern causeway. I get a ferry to Denmark later this morning.

The trip is going fine but I have another bought of guilt building up. There’s lots of family stuff at home. Luckily K has told me to stay out here and she’ll deal with the usual... son in hospital... daughter in

France

... type thing.

21 Jul, to Sibbertoft, 115 km
22 Jul, Cambridge, 114 km
23 Jul, HArwich, 128 km
24 Jul, Egmond (NL) , 118km
25 Jul, Harlingen, 110km
26 Jul, Warffum, 103 km
27 Jul, Herbrun (Germany) 113km
28 Jul, Hude YHA, 106 km
29 Jul, Wingst, 111 km
30 Jul, nearly Büsum, 106 km
31 Jul, Mörsum (sylt) 128 km

I make that 788 miles to last night. I should get to Denmark today.

There’s not much to say. There are hundreds of people doing bike rides out here, it is no big thing. The coastal route continues to be frustrating and fiddly - 20 miles inland is much easier... and you don’t spend half each day riding with a huge dyke slope on your left.

Oh - I counted 222 wind turbines in view at one point yesterday. I ride through acres of them and must have seen thousands since landing. Why do we make such a fuss about them in the UK ?

Well, I just feel that I'm really getting started and, as usual, it has taken two weeks and a thousand miles to get properly in the groove. I'm now in Aalborg , Denmark , 1050 miles from home, sheltering in the youth hostel and trying to get dried out for a second time. My adventure seemed to start yesterday morning when I left a campsite on Denmark 's west coast (Verderso Klit I think) after a third night of torrential rain and thunderstorms. All my kit was wet and I'd never totally dried out from a flooded campsite last Thursday. I have to say that up to this point, every day had been gloriously sunny. Well, I left Vederso wearing a damp shirt in a howling wind with a bike weighed down by sodden luggage... I was sneezing every few minutes and right at that moment I realised that I was having the time of my life. This is wonderful fun, and the harder it gets, the more fun it becomes. Germany was just too easy and too flat... Denmark is rougher round the edges and the cycling is better. I ride on big roads, little roads, gravel tracks and cycle paths - everywhere from through the dunes to through the forests - and at last there some hills (well, gradient) to get my knees working and my backside out of the saddle. Some routes are hard surfaced, some aren't and I'm at the point now that I never really know what is round the corner. This variety is helped by the fact that I'm only using free tourist maps, some of which are of the cartoon variety... I just don't want to pay a fortune for a new detailed map every two days.

Well, today (Monday) was even better. The rain was lashing down (think biblical cataclysm and you get the idea) when I set off at 8.30 and it never let up all through the day. Of course I get three punctures (I only carry two spare tubes) and was frozen to the bone by the time I'd messed about in the rain then walked several miles to a town with a closed bike shop but an open supermarket. What a lot of fun. However, I'm sitting here with a deep glow of satisfaction about a job well done. What a good day out on the bike, even if the distance was the only day so far below 100km.

Greetings from

Sweden

, Fjallbacka (on the coast) to be precise. I'm in the tourist office for a few minutes to catch up on your welcome emails and to dry out again. It has been raining pretty much all the time since I landed in Gothenburg on Wednesday, but the scenery is lovely and the locals are friendly, so all is well. I've passed 2000km (1250 miles) this morning since leaving the campsite at Hunnebostrand and that's another welcome target achieved. I'm now heading north to Oslo .

This has been a "quiet" tour, especially in comparison to those in North America . There are no characters on the campsites in the evenings, nor any hobos and weirdos around the gas stations during the day. Strangely I miss all that interaction and there is certainly much less to write about. Cycle camping is a ground-dwelling activity... you sleep on the ground, sit on the ground and eat on the ground. All around me the awning-dwellers sit on their high-backed-floral-cushioned chairs and peer out through their gothic plastic windows at the strange man grubbing about with yards of wet red nylon tent. Oh, how I miss those American campsites with their picnic tables, fire rings and secluded spots in the forests.

There are no touring cyclists up here as far as I can see. Where the convoys of pannier laden bikes I saw in Holland and Germany have gone, I've no idea. Sweden isn't particularly cycle friendly - in comparison to those other countries, but the minor roads are quiet enough. I managed four tiny ferries yesterday (a record for this trip) and they are al FREE in Sweden .

Right, it is time to move on... either to Stromstad today or even over the border into Norway . It has stopped raining for a moment too, so all is well with the world.

Ok, I'm having a day off. Yippee!! In Oslo . This is the first day off the bike since I left 20 days ago and my legs were telling me yesterday afternoon that enough was enough. The mileage so far is 1385, just a little short of my target...

My plans to cycle in to Oslo came to a halt around Sarpsborg yesterday when two hours of struggling to find a way through a small city with a big river and a motorway wore me down. I didn't fancy another day of cycling in an urban maze to get to Norway 's capital, so turned west to Moss and the ferry to Horten. A 30-minute train brought me in here this morning and so far I've found a cheap (at last) internet place and shops that sell a) tacky fridge magnets and b) books written in English. I've found my lack of language skills quite wearing and didn't realise how much I would miss not being able to pick up a cheap novel somewhere every few days. I'm on my sixth language and fifth currency of the trip at the moment. I thought Sweden was expensive but Norway is even worse. Phew!

The bike is doing well, but is taking a real battering over some of the road surfaces in Sweden and Norway . I wasn't expecting farm tracks and forest trails to be part of the North Sea route and I'd be better off with a MTB style bike at times. Out of the six countries covered so far, Denmark was by far the favourite - not least because of the astonishing road surfaces. I nearly took a photo of the only pothole I found in the whole of Denmark at one point. Some roads are as smooth as a huge granite kitchen worktop - in fact on one wet day I could see a perfect reflection of myself right underneath the bike in the road surface!! Given the chance, I'd go back to explore much more of that country - a real nice place with lovely people.

Sweden was disappointing, but I think that was really because of the wet weather and the fact that all the pretty seaside towns and villages were packed with yachts and yacht-type tourists. I spent as much time as possible in the countryside, eating my sopping picnics in bus-shelters instead of the waterside cafes.

My camping continues happily, and I just expect it to rain every time I pitch the tent. The prettiest campsite was actually in Sweden (at Gota, probably) beside a big lake that was set out as a rowing course... but the boathouses were dilapidated and the finishing tower all vandalised. I prefer the slightly tatty campsites because there's usually something around, such as a breeze block, to use as a seat. I am in luxury at the moment in Horten because I've found two bricks and two little planks to make a tiny bench. I was sitting on one end of that last night with my stove cooking the soup on the other as happy as a sand boy. Then of course it rained again and I had to shelter in the tent. There's something faintly Calvinistic about enjoying myself so much when is gets miserable.

Although I haven't met many people, I have to mention Christian, a German guy who was on the Fredrickshavn campsite on his way to Nordkapp, and a Dutch guy who bought me some beer near Stromstad - he'd already been to Bergen and took two weeks to do a route I need to finish in eight days. Oops? Oh - and the cyclist who rolled alongside me as I was lost in Gothenburg and rode with me to the visitor centre - that was a fantastic way to be introduced to a new country.

Ok, I'm off for a wander round. I need another map. Be good!

Hope all is well back there. I'm in the Kragero library for half an hour before my ferry to Stabbestad leaves at 2:15. I'm feeling great now, because I've just read a few emails, but this morning has been hard. I'd like tell you my distance to date but can't remember - 2300km maybe?

I can't get my head round this famous "North Sea Cycle Route." I cycle for miles and miles down forest tracks and quiet country roads through tiny seaside hamlets... then pop back out onto the main road just a few miles from where I started. Today a 54km loop moves me exactly 14km along the way to Bergen . Usually I'd just take the main road but bicycles are banned from most sections - not least because of the many tunnels. So, I'm fed up of this meandering route and I didn't expect to be picking my way through rocks, nettles and tree roots on the "bike paths."

However, I'm going to get this done and lose some weight. That target is being amply helped by the astronomic cost of food (and everything else) in Norway . I buy brown rolls (just an empty, plain roll) for a pound each or a bargain £2.50 for three and wander round the Spar mini supermarkets with my jaw dropping looking for cheap stuff like tuna and (S)mash - last night's tea on a £15 campsite where even a shower was an extra £1.50. I'll be camping in the woods again tonight, probably.

Never mind, I'm getting fitter... the cycling is wonderful and the scenery is beautiful. I was too grumpy this morning to take photos but will try harder this afternoon. I'm very lucky to be here, but it doesn't feel like it sometimes.

Hey! The sun came out yesterday for the first time in a week! What a joy to be cycling in warmth again. There's a chilly wind and some showers this morning, but the weather now is a huge improvement on Sweden . Most of my stuff is dry, Whooppee!

Well, I made it to the west coast of Norway , but needed the help of a train for the last bit yesterday. The tale begins three days ago, a few hours after I'd emailed from Kragerø (a stunningly pretty little port with narrow streets and painted wooden houses, by the way) Anyway, I arrived somewhere there was supposed to be a cycle ferry, only it seemed to have stopped running for the summer four days previously - by this time my patience with the coastal route was done and I turned inland to camp at Rød then on (the next day) to Evje via Amli. Amli is also a very pretty place and the tourist office is full of adverts and leaflets encouraging young families to come and live there. You get free Norwegian language lessons, but I can't imagine that there's any work going 'cos it's the back of beyond.

The cycling was simple, the roads were good and almost traffic free but the rain continued night and day. I thought the tent would collapse under the downpour at Rød and had a contingency plan to "sleep" under a nearby caravan should the worse happen. I bottled out at Evje and got a cabin for the night and luxuriated, smugly in the dry whilst the thunder crashed all around.

I set off yesterday morning, heading vaguely North West and knew I was in trouble from the first few miles. I could pedal on the flat but had absolutely no energy for the hills, just nothing - and of course this was turning into real mountain country. I assumed that things would get better, the sun came out, so I slogged on - walking for several miles at a time to get over each hill. I ate some muffins and milkshake in the style of Homer Simpson at a little bakery somewhere and thought I would get through to Tonstad. Needless to say, the rain started again and just as I got past the 50 mile mark, I was at a junction with a sign that said Gynla(sp?) Station was just 10 km away, and downhill, I took the soft option and headed for the railway.

The station is a bizarre little place in a tiny valley. The train emerges from a miles-long tunnel right into the station, then sets off and immediately disappears into another miles-long tunnel. And that's that... I'm camping in Stavanger . It has only rained for ten minutes so far and all my clothes are washed and dried. The nirvana is only a little spoiled by wet shoes, but even they could be dry by this afternoon.

My cycle into town this morning with an unloaded bike was OK, just, so I'm having an easy day with the task of island hopping from here to Bergen over the next three days. I've got a ferry timetable and reckon I can do it in 200km - there's lots and lots of different routes between here and there.

As my speedo distance is now 2895 km, I'll probably go for a ride tomorrow and explore the area - if I get to 3000km it'll get Dr Ruth off my case too.

21 August 2008 Inverness

Right, I'm nearly finished. I landed at Scrabster, beside Thurso at 5 o'clock yesterday morning and (after a wonderful bacon buttie in the Pier Cafe, waiting for the light) set off Westwards on the A836 to Tounge. Passing Dounreay nuclear power station, I recalled being here about forty years ago as a wee boy on a family holiday - even the strange sensation of remembering some poster or project I did at school afterwards. Isn't it strange what we have deep in the recesses of our brain?

The road was sensational, easily the most awesome stretch of the whole trip. I took pictures of the dark green landscape under a dark grey sky with a dark grey sea - and they are rubbish, obviously... but others who've been up here will understand the atmosphere in this remote part of Britain . I was shouting at the scenery at times, crazy.

My brother lives deep, deep in the Scottish Highlands - but that's 150 miles south of here. My emotions were raw, not helped by a lack of sleep on the ferry, and I admit to being choked and even tearful at times. What a day out on a bicycle.

I was chatting to two German cyclists but they disappeared behind me not long after I introduced them to the joys of Scottish tablet, perhaps they are having their arteries pumped somewhere?

I got to Lairg and camped. A lady mowing her grass in the town was dressed in a midge bhurka - a completely enclosed (face and all) outfit of green mesh. I coped with the attacks for a while but retreated early to the tent whilst others around were sitting, on a lovely summer's evening, with their hoods drawn up tight and spooning food through the gap.

It rained solidly all night, and most of the day today. When it didn't rain, the midges settled on me about ten deep. It was cold today, chitteringly cold. I got to the point that my hands wouldn't work at all whilst I waited for the Nigg ferry. Out of all the ferries I've used in the last month, that was the worst - describing it as a rustbucket landing craft would be very generous - and the waves were high and the damn thing just rammed the ramp and I had to jump off into the sloshing water.

I've retreated to Inverness Youth Hostel and am now warm enough to function, mostly. The trip is coming to a messy end as Mrs G is driving north to meet me and to go to a family thing. I might leave the bike up here somewhere and return to finish the whole circuit at another time. As usual I am mentally drained and refreshed at the same time.

Oh, and I've done about 2050 miles to date.
TWO THOUSAND MILES!
That's too far.

Bye for now.

Finished!

I've been home for a while and am struggling to put together a decent ride report. The good news is that I did 3400km (2100 miles) through seven countries in 33 days and lost a stone in weight.

The bad news is that I don't feel anything like the sense of achievement that I enjoyed after other tours - especially those in North America .

a) There are too many gaps in the blue line on the map above.

b) I'm haunted by the fact that I took a train for 140km in Norway when I was absolutely whacked (and scared of two tunnels on the alternative route.) I've never had to do that before.

c) I finished at my brother's house in the Scottish Highlands and got subsumed in family bits and pieces and never got the chance to cycle all the way home.

d) The route was fussy and often dull.

e) I hadn't realised how much enjoyment I get in English speaking countries from the campsite/cyclist banter - my lack of language skills never caused any logistical problems, but made me lonesome at times.

f) The trip was really expensive: £300 or more on ferries, and the astronomic food prices caught me out in Sweden and Norway .

g) The best bits were those in England and Scotland and I wondered why I'd bothered with the hassle of getting to all the other countries.

Nevertheless, the tour provided a fabulous snapshot of a wide range of European countries and cultures and an amazing range of experiences and weather conditions. I rode for days without the slightest hint of traffic conflict across countries where the bicycle rider has absolute priority and is a fundamental factor in transport and mobility. The camping was good and the sense of independence and self-sufficiency was, as always, worthwhile and mentally fulfilling. I’m a lucky guy.

PS. The fixed wheeler was a mistake this time. I was under-geared for a long time in the two flat countries and by the time the REAL mountains arrived I was exhausted. That's absolutely the last time I will ever tour on a fixed wheel. I've done 10,000 miles loaded fixed wheel touring since January 2005 and I can confirm what you've all been telling me. It's a real pain - in mountains, on rough tracks, on the very flat and when you are ill. Never again!!!!

[Apologies! Bike update 09/08/08. Too many bikes to choose from - it's the Surly]