The forecast for Moscow: 1 Kelvin

After a somewhat sleepless night, I spent the morning before checking out looking for a hostel that was cheap to crash at for a few days. There was a fair few but actually the cheapest one was a place down the road, maybe only a mile away, so I booked myself there for 4 days.

I survived Moscow's crazy traffic and got there in no time. In fact I got there around 1130 (the check in time on booking.com's app said 12) but then could not find the damn place. I must have spent a good 15 minutes around the back of the building before heading to the front again where the concierge of the building shouted “hostel?".

After what an observer would possibly see as some sort of bizarre ‘Mime-off' between the two of us I was able to discern that the hostel was number 22 on the 6th floor and that I was able to use the lift for my bike ('Velo' in russian) and baggage.

Up on the sixth floor the hostel door was unmarked and also unremarkable compared to its opposite number. How anyone would know that place even existed was beyond me. I'd left my bike downstairs with the concierge and took the essentials with me, rang the door bell and the door opened automatically. I was greeted to the most miserable looking man I have ever met. He looked like I had crapped on his shoes, he was that bad. No English was spoken, but this guy had Google translate so we were both able to use the app on our respective phones to converse. Supposedly the check in time was at 1300 but I was ok to start bringing bags up. As always, the problem of where to store the bike was a mild concern, but I was able to put it in the rear stairwell what they used as a smoking area. By the time I'd brought everything up and locked my bike to some very rickety railings it was past 1300, so all was good.

The WiFi worked best in the main passageway of the hostel so I sat out there and contacted friends and family to let them know I was ok. As I was doing this a Chinese looking guy was asking the hostel guy for something, I can't remember what, in English and to no avail. He gave up and was putting on his boots to go out. I don't know what made me ask because I was literally going to just stay in the hostel and sulk for a few days, but I asked the guy where was heading and if he wanted any company. His practically jumped at the chance to hang out with someone and I was taken aback by his enthusiasm.

And so began the adventures of Kelvin and the Gog.

We both decided it would be prudent to go and get our bearings of the city, so we found our local metro stop and headed off to Red Oktober. I was really amazed with how deep the subway went. I had only ever been on a subway in Rome and that was just down one short flight of stairs. Me and Kelvin had gone down two massive escalators and it felt we were in the bowels of the city. I was surprised with how it didn't feel claustrophobic at all. The station stops were massive, and beautiful. I'm not even joking, the walls were all crimson marble and the ceilings were ornately decorated. It really wasn't what I expected (to be fair though I didn't really know what to expect but this wasn't it).

At Red Oktober, the two of us got lost in the under-road pedestrian crossings that snaked the whole area but eventually got out on the right side of the road and were greeted with the outer walls of the red square.

As you would imagine with somewhere touristy like this, there were tonnes of souvenir merchants pedaling things from the old Russian Dolls that everyone loves to bright pink Russian military hats. I don't know why but I really wanted get one for my Dad. I'm not entirely sure he would have wanted a bright pink one though.

When we got through the walls we could see the iconic sight of St. Basil's cathedral. It was absolutely breath taking. Or it would have been of not for the god awful scaffolding that was being put up in front of it. It turns out they were using the square for the morning ceremony for the Winter Olympics and the scaffolding would eventually look like a stage although I would leave Moscow before I get to see it complete.

We walked around the scaffolded area and made our way to the cathedral to take photos and the two of us agreed that everyone that was taking photos with tablet computers looked bloody ridiculous!

We went to get food at a soviet style cafe. It was really good (I had a chicken kiev) and really cheap too. Afterwards we walked around for a while longer before heading back and settling in for the night.

The day I gave up..

I woke up about 4am and looked out the window. I didn't known what I was expecting to see, but what I got was torrential rain. It was pitch black when I set off.

I made my way out of the city whilst trying to avoid the constant puddles (which were actually the size of lakes) not only to stay relatively drier, but it was a 50/50 affair with whether or not there was a pothole lurking under the turgid waters.

Getting onto the major truncation to the next town, I was a under a constant barrage of honking lorries, angry looking Russians (unaccustomed to cyclists) and, of course, the elements. I persevered on.

I decided to have a break and pulled over to seek refuge at a bus stop. I can't really explain what went through my head at that time but I looked at the road ahead, looked at the skies, looked at my fingers (which had gone white with numb) and though “sod this".

I turned around. I had already cycled 40 miles, but to even imagine I had another 100 to the next town filled me with despair. I had really given up. In my head I was going to go back to Kursk, catch a train to Moscow. Then go home, somehow.

It took me an age to get back to Kursk as my wheel had deteriorated even more. I knew then that I had made the right decision, what if I had have broken the wheel completely in the middle of nowhere? I dread to think.

I somehow got to the station, managed to get a train ticket and actually got on the train with little problem. Well, there was a slight problem. As I was getting onto the train with my bike frame, my glasses fell off and fell between the carriage and the platform. Goodbye glasses! Luckily I only really need my glasses to prevent me from going crossed eyed when I'm tired.

On the train, I was in a “Platzkart" carriage, so instead of the 4 bed ‘room' I had experienced before, this was 50 bed and open plan. I got the bike into what appeared to be the smokers section (just the bit in between the carriages) and got my crap onto the shelf above my bed. I made the bed with the bedding I was handed and fell asleep straight away. I was exhausted, emotionally drained and soaked right through.

When I got into Moscow I went and tried to get a sim card for my phone so I could use the internet, but to no avail. However, I did manage to get a hotel booked on the phone shop owner's computer.

So I found the hotel and got all my crap settled in then rang my parents. I told them I wanted to come home, but they told me to go and do some touristy things, see how I feel and then go from there.

I really wanted to go home though.

An apology..

Ok, just a quick note to say sorry for being so slow with updating my blog. I'm currently on my way to the Chinese border from Ulaanbaator and will catch the train to Beijing. Not entirely sure blogger works in China but I'll find some way around it. Anyway, sorry for being over a months behind.. I WILL get on it!!

All the best,

The Gog.

Kursk day 2

Not wanting to cycle with a wheel missing a spoke, I decided to stay in Kursk for another day. I couldn't justify staying at the posh hotel I stayed in last night so I found a cheap hotel down the road and checked out.

I needed to get some cash out so tried to take some out from the ATM in the hotel foyer to no avail. Luckily the English speaking concierge that helped me with my bags when I checked into the hotel was just starting his shift. He took me to the bank next door and translated the ATM for me.

I made my way to the hotel down the road and checked in. An elderly lady who spoke a phrase or two in English was at the desk and showed me to my room, handing me my room key with a key fob the size of a small child. The room was basic but clean and after I settled in (and left my bike in the security guard's hut) I headed off out for some grub.

It was around 2 miles away but I managed to find a supermarket . I stocked up on my usual diet (if I've not mentioned it before I have been living on chocolate bars with nuts, bananas, water, 7up, bread and whatever meat I can get) and treated myself with what passed as a pizza.

When I got to the till, the cashier screamed her head off. There was a fish from one of the counters wriggling around in a plastic bag. To be honest it scared the hell out of me too. Good to know the food's fresh here though. Maybe too fresh.

Back home, I had my pizza then looked for a place go have my bike fixed. Turns out the closest place was where I was meant to be heading to next. A good 140 miles away. I figured I'd have to leave crazily early in the morning to make good with time. And with the weather being cold but dry I thought I'd make it for sure, even with the wonky wheel.

I planned my route for the next day, got all my bags ready and had an early night.

Russia.

I got up pretty early and began my journey to the Russian border.

Not even twenty minutes in and I got knocked over by a car. A bus had pulled over at a bus stop so I pulled out and the bus decided to pull out too. I ended up getting sandwiches between the bus and a car. Not going to lie, I shat myself. The bike got thrown to the ground yet somehow I was able to get out of my pedals and was standing straight over the bike trying to lift it up and off the road before I got hit again. I was alright but the bike had yet another injury. A broken spoke on the front wheel. With no spares and no time to get it fixes I used my pliers to cut the flailing spoke from the wheel and carried on, avoiding buses as best as I could.

The journey to the Russian border seemed like a lifetime away, the hills and winding roads were hilly and winding. I overtook a local who had an electric assist bike, seemed like a good idea with the countryside the way it was.

I passed through a few towns and got the usual look of disbelief from the locals. As I got to the top of an extremely steep hill and was having a break I heard someone calling. I turned around to find the man with the electric bike coming up the hill. I turned out o had dropped a bottle of water along the way and he had followed me to give it back to me before cycling back the way he had just come. What a crazy, but helpful, guy!

I got to the border after a few hours and was greeted to the Ukraine guard post by a stray dog chasing me. The guard got out and went after it with a baton, chasing it off then waving me on to the next checkpoint on the Ukraine side. I had my passport stamped by a soldier and in was on my way to the Russian side of the border.

It was a very sleepy border crossing with only a few lorries waiting to pass through. I was fast tracked to the front if the queue by a laughing Russian official. In fact, all the officials at the border laughed at me, pointing out how skinny I am and how massive my bike was and how much I was carrying. I wasn't bothered about it, I am aware that I look ridiculous. In fact, being laughed through the border crossing made me forget how nervous I was before. You hear so many horror stories about border crossings, I would prefer to be laughed at than have to end up bribing people.

The road to Kursk was pretty uneventful. Just miles and miles of farmlands and small holdings.

I arrived in Kursk at dusk and checked into a rather luxurious hotel. I mean, my room even had a bath!

Coffee mines, a hat wearing Jesus and a cross country train ride through Ukraine

The day after the staying at Mykyta's friend's house he Picked me in the morning and we went to his.

There, I met couchsurfers he was hosting who were leaving to go out for the day. Mykyta needed to apply for jobs online so he sat at his computer for the majority of the day and I read my kindle and nodded off a few times.

Much later in the day he was heading off to play 5-a-side footie so asked if I wanted to cone with him for a quick tour of the city before he went to play.

It turned out that he is training to become a tour guide so I had a rather comprehensive tour within the time that we had. The main thing that stood out for me was the statue of Jesus wearing a hat. Supposedly its the only image of Jesus wearing a hat. It certainly looked bizarre..

Then something happened to me that hasn't happened in years. My gullibility got the better of me.

We went into a coffee house in the middle of Lviv which had what appeared to have a mine underneath. Mykyta explained to me that it was a coffee like mud that was extracted from the ground which was then used to make coffee.. It certainly smelled like a “coffee mine" and I could have sworn I saw people “mining". After about half an hour the empiricist in me pushed for answers about the “mine" to which I got the reply “It was a marketing gimmick". I felt like the gullible child I thought I had grown up from. The child who believed, amongst many other things, that Irn Bru was made from rusty girders and that a haggis was an animal from Scotland which had its legs on one side shorter than its other, leaving it perfectly adapted to run around Scottish mountains in a particular rotation. The way you would catch them would be to chase them the other way, causing them to roll down the mountain where people would catch them in tartan sacks.

I would like to add that all these stories where further embellished by my parents, making me look like a complete idiot in front of my friends and teachers, much to the entertainment of Mam and Dad. Cheers for that! Nothing like being scarred for life so that now I don't believe anything anyone says until I read up about it myself.

Anyway, enough of my parents' bizarre social experiments, back to Lviv. Mykyta left me in Lviv to go play football so I had an hour to kill in the city centre. I found a coffee house with WiFi and caught up with friends and family.

After meeting Mykyta again we went back to the flat I stayed at, had a bite to eat and grabbed my stuff and got a taxi to the station as it was pitch black.

We got there just in time and after saying my goodbyes the train departed from Lviv for an overnight journey to Kiev.

It was my first time in a sleeper train and I was impressed. I managed to shove the bike into the overhead compartment of the cabin in was in. I had the cabin to myself but after a few stops more people got on and I shared the rest of the journey with a family of Ukrainians, one of which spoke English (a stunning blonde woman who was possibly the same age as my own mother) and told me her son lived in Sheffield, which I found random.

We reached Kiev early morning and I had a two hour wait for catching the next train to Sumy. Getting onto that train was eventful. The guard did not want the bike on there and was just shouting in Ukrainian at me for a good twenty minutes. I finally got on and was sharing a cabin with a young woman and her three or four year old daughter. Both of whom laughed at the amount of junk I had.

We spent the majority of the journey miming to each other, with both of us using the odd words that we that the other would understand, the tiny amount of Russian I was able to learn from phrase book apps on my phone not really helping.

I got off at Sumy with help from the girl and her daughter. Who I waved off, much to the pleasure if the little girl!

Trying to find the hotel I had booked would turn out to be a nightmare, my GPS gave me the completely wrong location of where I was meant to be heading. I ended up on a dark street in the middle of an estate which I didn't feel safe at so I headed back to the train station and got a taxi instead. It was miles away from where my GPS had taken me.

I checked in, showered, rang my folks to let them know I was fine then headed out for supplies and something to eat before getting an early night. Russia tomorrow!

Luck in Lviv

The roads to Lviv were pretty good. According to the map in was following I was cycling on a motorway but it only a single carriageway for the majority of the trip.

Along the way I hit a bit of a milestone. One which I know I actually achieved a while back. According to the GPS I had cycled 1000 miles!

Rather annoyingly, there were large distances where I didn't use the GPS (the whole of UK and Belgium for instance) or the batteries had died without me realising. There was also the nuisance that the bike computer didn't work for a long time after the bike breaking in Belgium.

Despite this, I was very excited to get to that milestone!

I got to Lviv sometime around 1600 and was greeted with the usual potholes and cobbles I came to expect of larger towns.

I stopped somewhere in the middle of town and tried to get in contact with a guy I had contacted via Couchsurfing. He told me to try and call him again at 2100 and maybe he'd be able to help.

I couldn't wait around til that time for that level of uncertainty so I desperately looked for a hostel/hotel. With no internet I was really beginning to struggle. The joy of Europe was that I was able to pay for internet at least.

I ended up going through my emails and found that someone else from couch surfing had replied and gave me his number. I managed to get hold of him and he told me to wait at the train station. I was miles away from there but I took the chance and got there as soon as I could.

I think I was there for about 20 minutes before I met Mykyta.

I was in one of the waiting halls of the train station and must have stood out like a sore thumb because he just came straight up to me and asked asked “Martyn?"

He happened to have two Turkish guys who were travelling to Poland that he was hosting with him. They just looked at me in shock with how much I was carrying.

I had asked on my couchsurfing request if I could get help booking a  train ticket to the Russian border and Mykyta was more than willing to help. He suggested that whilst we were in the station that we get the ticket there and then.

After about an hour of having to wait in different queues (turns out the ticket offices are a mystery even to Lvuv locals) we managed to get my tickets.

A friend of Mykyta who showed later inputted the address of where I was heading for the night then they all left, leaving me to navigate Lvivs streets in a quickly darkening dusk.

The road was horrendous, added into the mix of potholes and cobbles were tram tracks which were little more than metal gutters that worsened the state of the road.

When I got to the address given to me, I was in a housing estate with blocks of flats as far as the eye could see. I felt a little nervous if I was being honest, just because these types of places are normally rough as hell back home.

Mykyta came and met me and gave me a hand with my stuff to the 6th floor in a lift no bigger than an airing cupboard. How I managed to get the bike up was nothing short of a miracle.

The flat itself was really nice, but I couldn't help notice the vast amounts of jars everywhere. It looked like a pickling factory.

There was a whole group of people here who I got introduced to systematically. Most of them spoke at least enough English to hold a conversation with.

One of the girls asked me if I liked sushi as they were having a party of sorts and were making it from scratch. To be honest I haven't had a lot of sushi, but what I have had I liked. I was even made to make some sushi myself, the inclusion was really nice!

After the sushi Mykyta took the Turkish guys to the bus station as they were leaving that night. So I was left alone with the rest of the party. I didn't feel at all nervous, everyone was extremely friendly. I also found out that thus wasn't Mykyta's flat, but I would be staying here out of convenience. 

Then the night took a turn that I never expected.

I was asked if I liked 7 wonders. I didn't understand and it was explained to me that it was a board game that these guys played. In the end I had an amazing night playing a highly strategic board game (I came a very close second place).

In went to bed feeling very lucky that I was able to get hold of Mykyta earlier that day.

In an alternate dimension I imagined myself still waiting for that other guy to get in contact with me.

Into the unknown

After spending the weekend cramped up with nowhere to stretch my legs, I was happy to get back on the bike.

I got up and going for around for around nine and headed for the Polish/Ukraine border. It took about 45 minutes to get there and I was able to get some supplies at the duty free supermarket.

I phoned home to let my mam know that I was off and didn't know when I'd be able to call again, then made my way to the pedestrian border crossing.

It was really straight forward. By which I mean I am so surprised how easy it was. I was expecting interrogations and bribes, at the very least I thought I'd have to empty all my panniers for some stuck up bureaucrat.

Genuinely, I walked through the Polish border, handed the guard my passport. That got scanned. Walked about ¼ mile to the Ukraine checkpoint, handed my passport to the guard, that got scanned and stamped. I walked to the customs checkpoint and in mime was asked what was in the bags. The guard questioning me really made his own assumptions and mimed “clothing" and “food" whilst pointing at the bags.

And that was it. My first real border crossing.

I hope the Russian border is that easy. Fingers crossed.

Now I have to make my way to Lviv.

A weekend of “Training"

So I managed to get on the train just fine and I was really surprised at how modern the polish trains were. Much better than even the trains back home! The carriages had “rooms" of four seats, each with their own charger for mobile phones and a control for air conditioning!

The train took something like 7 hours to get to Krakow. I assumed in had to change train as the ticket from Wroclaw to Krakow had a different train number to the Krakow to Przemysl route. It wasn't until I fell out of the train with the bike and cut my leg open that I realised I was to stay on the train.

I clambered back onto the train and got back into the seat I was in before. My leg grazed badly I had a strange thought, it didn't matter what happened to me or the bike, as long as I had my phone and wallet/cards I could get home. As I thought that I instinctively felt for my phone and wallet. Where was my wallet? No, seriously Martyn, where is your wallet with your cards?

I checked everywhere. At least five times. In the little four seated berth/cabin I was in I emptied my panniers and repacked making sure I hadn't dropped anything else.

My heart sank. Where had I put it? Had it fallen out my pocket when I fell out if the train? Had it been pick pocketed?

Only thing I could do was double check it wasn't back at the hostel. An email explaining my predicament was sent. Fair play to the staff at the hostel I was at, they messaged me back straight away. I didn't want to open the email. Just in case it read out my worst fears. And it kind of did, in a way.

I had left it under my pillow.

Seriously? So far on this trip I never left anything under my pillow. Too obvious. God only knows why I did it this time.

Back onto the internet I tried to suss out the best course of action. Should I get it sent by courier, by post? The woman back at the hostel told me to not even bother with the post, it would only go missing.

There was only one real/safe option. I would have to pick it up myself. Damn, I was already behind and spending more money than I should.. Thank God the railway tickets in Poland are dirt cheap.

Before I arrived at Przemysl station I already had the number/time of the train that I needed to catch. As soon as I was was off the train and packed up again, I went and got some money changed for tickets and accommodation.

I literally put the phone up against the window of the ticket booth and the woman laughed as she jotted down the trains I wanted. It was pretty simple really! I found the hotel soon after that (not before passing a Tesco 24hr supermarket - albeit a Polish equivalent of the one I worked in back home in Holyhead - I shuddered as I rode past, but wondered if my staff discount would still work, ha!)

I was able to stick my bike in the wine cellar of the hotel I stayed at, had a boiling hot shower and asked for a taxi to be booked to take me to the station before I got my head down for a few hours.

It hardly felt like I slept and before I knew it I was on my way to the station with only myself for a change.

0215 the train set off again. This would be a long weekend, and not the good kind.

There's not much to report about the train journey itself, only that I set alarms for when I needed to be awake for the connections.

I got into Wroclaw 1410 (ish) and I pegged it to the hostel. This would be cutting it fine as the train back was at 1455.

1420. I got to the hostel and an elderly lady who spoke no English only understood what I needed when I whipped the old translator app out. She rang someone and told me to wait 5 minutes.

1430. Still no sign of anyone helping me out. I was thinking I wouldn't make it back to the station in time. I showed the lady my train tickets and she freaked! She rang whoever again in a much more animated manner than before.

1432. A young woman (apparently the one I'd been emailing) burst through the main door, quickly ran to a draw, fiddled with a few keys before handing me an envelope with “Griffith" scrawled across it.

1434. I said my goodbyes and thanks as I was running down the stairs. As I got out, the traffic lights which on the way to the hostel went in my favour decided to go against me this time for that privilege.

1440. Wroclaw train station. I couldn't find my train on the board. Now I was panicking! I was looking for the number/time/destination, nothing.

1443. I was looking at the arrivals board. Idiot. I found the Departures board. My train was on the top, flashing. Platform 2.

* I would like to add here that in Poland, when they say platform, they mean platform. Unlike Britain, the platform number displayed generally means indicates track you will be using. In Poland a platform has two tracks and its down to you to make the wrong decision.

1448. Thank God, only one train on the platform. On I got, found my seat 5 carriages down and settled down as the train slowly made its way out of Wroclaw with a Welshman whose embarkation was such a close shave, father time himself wouldn't need to use a razor again for at least a millennia. It was so close, I expected the carriage to break out into spontaneous Mexican waves!

The rest of the journey doesn't even justify having anything written about it part from that it was an arduous 12hr journey back to the hotel.

I checked my pockets for my wallet and phone. This time round, I had both!

Wroclaw and the sobbing gog!

So, when I got to Wroclaw, it was already dark. But luckily the hostel I had booked was literally across the road from the station.

The hostel was in a really weird place, three floors up in a residential building. They were kind enough to let me bring my bike up (I even got it into my dorm and hid it, yes hid it, between two bunk beds). It was here that I met my first fellow tourer, who also had his bike in the room. I imagined we would be up all night talking about our adventures and what things we found hard etc. But I didn't even get a hello from him. He was a right miserable bastard. Maybe its because I'm from Britain, but if you say hello (which is universal in any language I've found out) you expect to have a hello back..

Anyway, I had something to eat and then tried to get some sleep.

But I couldn't.

I think in the end I had about 4hrs sleep. Between my nerves/excitement of going into territories unknown and the old man in the room snoring I just really struggled to even nod off.

The next day I figured I wouldn't be able to cycle after such little sleep, I cod barely think straight let alone cycle straight. I booked myself in for another night and decided to get some bits and bobs.

I managed to get some food, ibuprofen gel and a new jacket. I needed a new coat that would also be warm. The cycle jackets are good but I don't think they are suited for colder climes.

The jacket I got had a detachable fleece and is extremely warm!

Walking around Wroclaw I realised that j was getting a little depressed but came to the conclusion that the lack of sleep didn't help. It was round about now that I really started missing home, with Nanna's anniversary already been and gone too I was missing her too. Coincidentally I happened across a catholic cathedral which was open and went and lit a candle for her. I even said a little prayer asking for some help and guidance. She would have liked that.

The straw that broke my emotional camel's back was when I went into a pet store to look at the animals (hoping to cheer myself up), there were a bunch of rabbits that looked like my two (Toffi and Tiffin). I'm not ashamed to say that I started sobbing. (I dread to think what the pet store owner thought of a 6ft2 bearded man coming into their store and crying over the fluffiest things in the shop. It must have looked hilarious. Or scary as hell)

Anyway, after that I just kept breaking into tears all day. I finally got a hold of myself enough to book a train ticket to the other side of Poland (as close to the Ukraine border as possible).

I had real difficulty trying to get a ticket because they wouldn't let me have my bike crossing the border. I explained (countless times) that I didn't want to actually cross the border just next to it, but they weren't having any of it. Luckily, some guy who spoke English came up to me and asked did I want to go to Przemysl?

Showing me a map, it was the town before the stop I thought I wanted to take. He turned to the ticket officers and after 5 seconds (if that). I had tickets for the bike and I to Przemysl via Krakow. I don't know what he said, but I'm glad he did!

I got back to the hostel, had food, and got my head down to finally sleep. Alarms were set beforehand though - the train was at 0700.

Görlitz then Wroclaw!

So I headed off from Dresden following the B6 pretty much all the way to Görlitz. This time, however, instead of following what Google maps had directed, I actually just stayed on the major trunk (I never saw any signs prohibiting cyclists and plenty of police where around and not one of them said a thing)

The weather was cool but sunny. I find once I get going that I start to heat up pretty quickly, in no small part to the Helly Henson thermals I've got from my Dad!

The roads were perfect. I think if I were to go back and do this again I would stay on major roads. The bike, and more specifically the pannier racks, wasn't designed for cobbles, potholes and dirt tracks. Annoyingly, I seemed to have lost a piece off the new front pannier rack. Its like a spacer/washer, but its screwed back in and I've secured both front and back racks with cable ties. God I love cable ties! Most of the bike is covered in them! From the GPS mount to the bike computer to extra storage, cable ties hold the lot on! (That reminds, I need to buy some more! And maybe some duct tape)

Later on in the day there were a few showers and the wind picked up.

I got to Görlitz in good time and I caught a train to Wroclaw!

Dresden.

With that scary Chinese guy keeping me up most of the night I decided to get an early ride. Got up at six, had breakfast and was out by and on the road by eight.

It was a beautiful day but by the time I got out of the city (and away from cobbles and potholes) I noticed my front wheel was slightly buckled. It wasn't too bad to be honest so I  it would be good enough to get me to Dresden where I'd get it fixed.

It was actually a really good day of cycling. It was warm, the wind was behind me and besides the wobbly wheel the roads were immaculate.

Got to Dresden around three and found the hostel I booked. They were kind enough to let me put my bike in a WC they never used (although the “locked" it every time by using a scalpel to twist the catch from the outside, I could see the plastic deteriorate every time and I worried that the bike would be locked in there forever)

Found a bike shop online that promised that they were the fastest in Dresden, the only problem was they closed early on a Saturday so I'd have to wait until Monday for it to be fixed!

I tried to find something to do for the evening and happened across a venue that was hosting an old school american hardcore punk band called Bad Brains. But despite trying my hardest to find the venue I gave up, it was in some industrial complex that I just wasn't happy being near so I got a Subway and ate it on the way back to the hostel.

Sunday I went and did a little exploring. I am currently trying to upload pictures on to a flickr account so once that's up to date I'll post a link.

I went to a German market (I call it that because whilst I lived in Manchester, every December they would have a “German market") and all the smells left me starving. In the end I ended up having a joint of roast hog with sauerkraut and pan fried potatoes. With a beer of course.

Dresden was an awesome city. Remnants of its communist past, pre WW1 buildings and modern architecture made the city ooze with culture and diversity. Like I said, once I upload pictures I'll pit up a link.

For food that night I got a massive Hawaiian pizza for about €7. It was amazing.

Monday morning I was up and taking my bike to be repaired. I asked the guy to true the wheel, replace brakes and clean the chain set. He told me its be ready by Wednesday. The desperation in my face made him change his mind to Tuesday. Thankfully.

I can't remember what I did for the rest if the day apart from food shopping and laying in bed reading Carl Sagan's Cosmos! Wow, despite its age its incredible read!

Tuesday, I picked up the bike, and was on my way to Görlitz, a half German/half Polish town divided by a river.

Leipzig. And one seriously scary Chinese guy.

One thing I noticed about Europe is that whilst supermarkets may open at 0700, shops don't open until 1000. Which many I'd have to wait till then to go and get new inner tubes! Just to be on the safe side I got four, one to replace the dead one and three more to be safe.

Unfortunately my D-Lock that I had been lugging around had seized up and no amount of WD40 was going to help. So whilst at the bike shop I got a new lock, a cable one this time. Hopefully I won't have any problems with that one!

I decided to stay another night at the hostel and when I went back to the room there was a half naked Chinese guy fixing his hold all.

I said hello, nothing. So I went and replaced the tyre and when I went back to the room he was talking to someone on the phone. Well I say the phone, he had his headphones plugged into his laptop so I assumed he was on Skype or something.

The previous night I was rather restless so wanted to catch up on my sleep, but I couldn't with that guy talking. What I found weird was that he was talking in English, so why he never said anything to me is beyond me.

Anyway, with not being able to sleep I decided to go look around Leipzig. A really nice city but without anyone with me I got bored did some shopping and went back again to the hostel. This time going into the communal room. I watched about 5 episodes of ‘How I Met Your Mother' (in German) and ate a lot of junk food!

Getting late, I had dinner and went back to my room. The Chinese guy wasn't there but the guy who was there the previous night and a new guy were.

The new guy asked me if the Chinese guy was still talking to himself. I was gob smacked, I genuinely thought he was on the phone and as if on cue he burst through the door jumped into his top bunk bed and went on his laptop. Talking. To himself.

I'm not going deny by this point I was a little scared. Even more so now that I started to listen into what he was saying. He kept cycling through various subjects: How he beat up a guy in Aberdeen thinking he was a “spy"; how he got into a fight in Cardiff after two “spies" jumped him; that he linked to religious radicals back in Beijing, but how could he be a religiously radical if he was gay; how no one speaks Chinese but expect him to speak English, or German; how he had a degree in Britain revoked due to plagiarism; how he hated Canada because he got into a fight with someone and “almost squeezed his eye out" until Canadian cops turned up.

I can't remember everything he went on about but needless to say, I slept with one eye open.

It's getting tougher!

This blog is for my Taid (grandfather) who asked my Mam when I'd be writing my next blog!

So. This trip is getting tougher and tougher. I was almost on the verge of giving up yesterday. The reason? I hate German roads/cycle paths.

They have been a literal pain in the arse (and wrists, neck and shoulders) for my entire time in Germany. I know I've ranted already about how or they are but yesterday was the last straw.

Let me go back two days ago. I'd spent the morning on a guided tour around the Jägermeister factory (well worth a visit if you're in the area) and I was in a great mood. Not even the rain was putting me off my trip south towards Leipzig.

I'm not going to go into too much repetitive detail, in part because im trying to block it out already, but the cycle route took me across 10 miles of a tractor track that was just slabs of concrete that made your bones rattle every metre; 8 miles of a major road between two villages that was barely even a dirt track (despite the fact I was cycling through porridge I still managed to get around 13mph); and to top it all off, every single town/city I rode through was cobbled. Why? What benefit could cobbling major roads through towns bring to the table? It's not as if it slowed down traffic. Just cyclists..

I got as far as a place called Quendlinburg. A UNESCO protected historical town. I'll you one guess as to why it's protected? That's right, for its cobbles!! By this point I was frothing at the mouth and just wanted somewhere to stay so ended up in a little hotel just west of the town.

Much of the same yesterday. Although I did manage to get onto the B6 for large chunks of the day! This meant that I was able to enjoy some of the best roads I've ridden on so far. Until I got into the towns that is! I made some good progress to a place called Halle before disaster struck again!

About 5 miles south of Halle I was doing really well. I bad about 20 miles left of the day and was zooming along quite nicely before some arrogant driver made it quite clear that HE didn't want me on the road (Despite the fact I had no problems before hand with any other drivers.) and he forced me onto the cycle path. after about 15 seconds of being on the pothole ridden death trap I hit a pothole so hard my tire popped.

I was so angry I almost punched the floor. I tried to repair the puncture but it was so big I just couldn't fix it. The oy option I hadeft was to walk it 5 miles back to Halle and catch a train to Leipzig. What a fiasco that turned out to be.

I managed to get a ticket just fine and even managed to get the bike down a flight of stairs (no sign of lifts for disabled) then back up onto the platform to await for my train.

The train arrived later than planned and I never knew I had to go to the back of the train to put my bike on. When I got there the conductor looked at me, shouted “No" and now the whistle in my face before getting on the train looking smug. I was so angry I wanted to cry (I also wanted to run after the train and punch his face as it hung out the carriage window but thought better off it).

I managed to find another train which was already waiting on the platform.  Got on it no problem and dreamt of a good night sleep in a bed.

Finding the hostel was a bit difficult in that it was in one of countless back alley plazas that dot Leipzig but once I found it, I was already beginning to feel better. A pretty punk girl at the reception and a nice hot shower was just what I needed to forget the crap I've had throughout Germany.

It's weird, I never in a million years have wanted to get out of a country so fast as I do now. I'm sick of Germany. Its sour faced citizens, it's over priced cuisine and despicable treatment of cyclists has left such a bitter taste in my mouth that I just want out.

Not long now though. I'm having a rest today. Then it shouldn't take me long to get into Poland (maybe a couple of days via Dresden)

It's a shame though, because I bet under different circumstances I would have loved it here.. Ah well.

Edit: My front wheel is slightly buckled and I've almost got a bald rear wheel tyre. Joy!!

Me - being wet and miserable

Slogging it out...

So the last two days have been pretty much the hardest I've had so far!

Sunday morning I was pretty much resigning to the fact I'd be getting a train from Hagen to wherever eastwards because the rain wasn't just pouring, it was flooding the air!! It was silly how far up the rain was bouncing of the tarmac!

Either that or stay another day in the hostel.

Regardless, I packed up, checked out and started loading the bike up. I thought sod it, might as well *try* and cycle a bit (at least make my train fare cheaper.

So as per usual I got lost for the first half hour before getting my bearings and headed north east. My aim was to get to Kessal but early on I realised that this wasn't gonna happen. I just wasn't getting anywhere fast. Is it because of the ground being wet or me being cold and my knees showing there age? Either way I was crawling along and aching too!!

I'm actually really glad that I cycled because It turned out a real nice day. I was soaking from the damp in the air and my sweat from wearing a plastic coat but apart from that I was warm! My knees had stop hurting too!!

Nothing else to report about the ride really, apart from getting caught in the occasional shower!

I ended up in a place called Paderborn and stayed in a beautiful hostel, paid the receptionist in some soggy/sweaty Euros and after dragging my half tonne of baggage to my room went to find some food. Found the WIERDEST chippy I will ever likely find! It wasn't that was dirty or anything. It was just so.. I can't put my finger on it.. It wouldn't have been amiss from League if Gentlemen's Royston Vaisey.. Don't get me wrong the lady serving me was lovely, she really appreciated my attempts at ordering in German despite her speaking fluent English but even she was odd..

Anyway. I digress, after food I pretty much zonked out at about 2300.. Didn't wake up til 0700 - just in time for breakfast!

I left the hostel at about 10. I really need to start leaving earlier but after having breakfast I like to just chill for a bit and it takes ages to repack the bike!

I reallllyyy struggled today. I don't know what was wrong with me but I normally cruise at around 12mph but today I was struggling getting up to 9mph.. I whinged about it a bit on Facebook which never actually made.me.feel any better about it. I really didn't think I was putting less effort in and out of nowhere I started getting averages of about 15mph then 26mph.. On flats!! Earlier on I couldn't even get 10mph going down hill!! it was so bizarre. There was no wind behind me. It had even began to rain.. I didn't get it!

I managed to cover some good distance in the time I had become some sort of superman but it wasn't long before I was cycling over my kryptonite. German cycle paths.

I was forced on them for quite a few miles due to the weather conditions and heaviness of traffic. I hate them! Really, I do! Im sorry if any Germans read this but you've not got a scratch on your Belgian/Dutch neighbours!

Anywho.. again, I realised I wouldn't get to my destination before sunset. So I'm currently in a hostel in Hildesheim. Short of the destination I'd set myself. Tomorrows destination - Wolfenbüttel!

Yes ladies and gemtlemen, tomorrow I'm taking a day off for some tourism!! “What kind of tourism?" I hear you ask!

Tomorrow I'll be heading (with any luck) to the Jägermeister factory (distillery)! I'm actually reeeeeeeally excited! Not because I'm your stereotypical binge drinker who'll make all his friends jealous (although both statements are true) but because I genuinely love seeing how things are made! I could watch that programme on Quest for hours (I won't name the programme ha ha). Plus the prospect of a testing is really whetting my whistle!

As always, thanks for reading! Also a big thanks to those who are constantly giving me support and words of wisdom..! I'll try and get you a souvenir from Jäger!

Europe! So far, so nicht so gut

So its been a few days since I've written my last entry.. A fair bit has happened since then. I'll break it down day by day:

Europe - Day 1.

Sailed over from Dover to Dinkirk. Was a beautiful day and nice calm crossing. Got to France around 11 (local time). I proceeded to get lost for about an hour, or so I thought. Turns out I was going the right way but hesitated because I was going through an industrial zone. Got to the Belgian border not long after and met two Manx lads you were cycling through Europe before going back to uni. We met up again in a place called Verne and decided to cycle together to Brugge as this was on my way to the Netherlands.

The cycle paths throughout France and Belgium were amazing. They were smooth to cyke on and rather wide too!

The three of us had cycled as far as a resort town called Oostende before calamity struck. We were cycling over some cobbles when we heard a “Twang" I turned to them and said something (in jest) along the lines of “I hope that was a stone and not a screw!". No sooner had I said that my whole front-right pannier rack snapped, contorted around the forks and threw the pannier it was carrying to the ground. God only knows how I never ended up on the floor, from someone who had been falling over on his bike just by turning to getting out of my SPDs in a split second it was incredible. My momentary celebrations were cut short when j realised what had happened.

The bolt holding the pannier rack in place had snapped in half, leaving part of it in the fork itself. The pannier rack was tightly wrapped around the fork and had snapped three spokes. I should have taken a picture of it, but I was so close to crying I could bring myself to take a photo. The two Manx kids helped me unravel the mess and waited until I had found a local bike shop before saying their goodbyes. I wheeled the bike to a quaint repair shop called Plums. The owner spoke a fair amount if English and told me it'd be repaired by 11 the next day. He also would replace the two separate front pannier racks to a single one.

With a bruised ego and a flinching wallet I unpacked the bike left what I didn't need into the slowly disintegrating laundry bag and went and tried to find a cheap hotel for the night, forgetting I had the unfortunate luck of breaking down in a seaside resort.
I ended up staying in a place called Alpha Hotel which cost me €46. Great.
Spent all night watching National Geographic as that was the only channel that was in English.

Euro Day 2.

Had a rubbish nights sleep. I was so miserable about the bike that I worried what if he couldn't sort the wheel out? A hilariously funny shower (it just didn't make any sense, and I ended up with a flooded bathroom) couldn't even lighten my mood. Finding out how much repairing my bike would cost put me in an even fouler mood. €95. I'm not going to go on about it anymore, I was just glad the bike was fixed.

By midday I was on my way to Brugge. I got there. Got lost. and somehow ended south of where I was meant to be heading. Took me a while to find it but as soon as I found the canal it was plain sailing (cycling) up to the Netherlands. Managed to find a campsite an hour before sunset. Despite not cycling far, I was emotionally shattered!

Euro Day 3.

Set off around 8. Headed south east back into Belgium and towards Antwerp. Pretty much motorways all the way there (even the motorways had cycle paths!!! Albeit they ran parallel to them about 10m away) Antwerp was a lot more navigable than Brugge and despite me wanting to get back into the Netherlands (still heading east) I found a campsite east of Antwerp where they had a restaurant. I had lasagne and two pints of lager before settling down for the night.

Euro Day 4.

As much as day 3 was following motorways, today was all about canals. My aim for today was to get to Germany. I was slightly annoyed that I seemed to be peeling a lot of miles but not really getting anywhere. I'm so stuck for time as have to be in Russia by the 24th, that I'm going to have to skip chunks of this trip out and catch trains. Not really how I wanted to do it but you've got to be realistic about your goals.

I never got to where I had intended to for the night which I was a bit gutted about, half because of windy canals and roads and half because of the heat. Its been soooooo hot the last couple of days I'm having to carry around with me about a gallon of water.

Anyway I was struggling to find somewhere to call for the night (I just within the German border) when I saw a sign for camping. There was a woman watering her plants outside her house and I thought to myself:

“GCSE German - ACTIVATE!!!"

Needless to say I failed miserably. Thankfully I had picked up a few words for camping from signs and what not that we were able to understand each other enough. She sent me to speak to a man in a tractor who spoke Joskin German because I couldn't understand a word he was saying. With enough miming I went through to what can only be described as a geriatric campsite. The tractor guy came round with a glass of orange fanta and asked for €10. He couldn't believe how much I was carrying in my bike and e even got what looked like his apprentice to point and be amazed at the way I unpacked everything.

Euro Day 5.

The shower in the old peoples caravan home was amazing. It was like having a fire engine blast you.
This was to be my first real day in Germany, but it was almost my last cycling. I was so angry. The German cycle paths were awful. They were bumpy, they had grown trees next to them too so the roots of the trees lifted and cracked the ground. I was actually trying my hardest not to throw my bike on the ground with rage. I don't know what had gotten over me, perhaps it was because I had it so good in Belgium France and The Netherlands that I couldn't believe how poorly maintained the German paths were.
Once I had gotten past Düsseldorf they were a bit better but not fantastic. It wasn't until ⅔ through the day that I talked to a Croatian guy and realised that I don't have to use the cycle paths. After that I flew through to my destination, Hagen. German roads were certainly a lot better than their cycle paths. No one honked their horns or shouted at me or even showed any signs of displeasure of me being on the roads so I think I'll stay on them!

Got to a youth hostel in Hagen and got put in a dormnon my own but surrounded by other dorms hosting an under 15s football team. Great.

Spoke to my mam for the first time in a week. Told her about how hot it's been and how I've gotten a fantastic tan, it's just a shame it from my ankles to my thighs; my wrists to my biceps; and my neck and face!

Euro Day 6.

I've actually taken today off from cycling and decided to kip in the hostel for another night. I didn't get much sleep last night because of all the kids making a bloody racket!!
I got up at 7, had breakfast and got ready to go when I just thought “i cant be arsed today"

So today I went into town to pick up some supplies and finally found a place that sold Coleman's fuel.. I'm glad I never cycled today as it absolutely pissed it down with rain. After me bragging to my mam the previous night that I was riding a heat wave to russia, karma decided to open the skies and I got drenched to and from town. its cleared up now but I wouldn't have liked to have been cycling through that I can tell you.

I'm glad that I've taken today off too so I could catch up writing this blog. I need to make sure I don't let it slip otherwise I'll forget the little things!

Anyway I'm going to just chill out now and munch on pomme bears and maoams!

Verne, Belgium

A weird heart shaped bruise

Days three and four

Wow. What a couple of days!

Mam and Dad mentioned that I should go and pop to see my mam's Aunty June (my Nanna's sister). so I gave her a call and she absolutely shocked that I was even in the area let alone what I'm wanting to do..!

I took a route according to Google maps which started off well running along side the canal but ended up with me going through a grassy patch not unlike a place at home called “The Range" it was not the place for my type of bike with my type of load on it!

I got off that as soon as I could and ended up going on B roads south towards Watford. I realised I much prefer traffic along side then when its dead.. hope it won't be too bad in exotic countries!

I got to my Auntie's after a few hours and was greeted at the door by some carribean guy! I really thought I'd gotten the wrong house until she popped round the corner! It turns out they're getting their bathroom done up and he was a decorator!

She reminded so much of my Nanna so I gave her a massive hug and then deconstructed the bike. Both she and the Carribean (I forget his name) couldn't get over the amount that I had on my bike!! To be fair it surprises me, especially when I try and get it all into the tent!

Got freshened up and had a spot to eat before Eddie (my mam's Uncle) came home from work. Had a lovely dinner and charted about all sorts. He also a gave me contact details if I need any assistance in Germany it China. God forbid anything should happen, but if something does then those contacts will be invaluable!

Also got the chance to speak to my mam's cousin, Jacquie, who told me that if I needed to have any Russian translated then I was to ring her as her partner is from Moldova (so speaks Russian)... again invaluable!

Went to bed for about 10 and I was so knackered (and full) that I passed straight out! I never even made it under the covers!!!

The next day June had someone coming over so I went for a haircut. Wasn't too far but I couldn't walk! My legs had all seized up Haha..

When I got back it wasn't too long before my passport turned up with Mongolian Visa! When packing I noticed that I had a puncture so I tried pumping it up but the valve on the tyre broke. So if any of you had a sweepstake on when I would have my first puncture: London.

And talking about London. IESU GRIST!!! Thank God I had my Google maps set on sat nav mode... I would have been well and truly lost without it (you have redeemed yourself from previous discretions) saw loads of landmarks and even cycled past James Bond's Headquarters! I couldn't take a picture as I was trying to stay alive!!

I got to the campsite a few minutes before they closed. Lucky really as I hadn't even checked when they would be open!!

So this is it!!! Finally.... in the next day or so I'll be heading across the English channel, embarking on the next step of my crazy ass tour!! wish me luck!!!!

PS. as I wrote this its becoming to rain! the first time to do so since I set off!! hope it doesn't last...

https://maps.google.co.uk/maps/preview#!data=!4m15!2m14!1m13!1s0x47d8af17ac2d79e3:0x625323073aff932d!3m8!1m3!1d2484.4965749671837!2d0.11971699999999999!3d51.485752999999995!3m2!1i1024!2i768!4f13.1!4m2!3d51.485752999999995!4d0.11971699999999999&hl=en≷=gb

Days one and two!

Right, well I better start writing!
It's currently the morning of my third day cycling. Its still sunny and my bum isn't that sore!

I set off from Holyhead on the 27th extremely optimistic, despite finding it difficult to steer with the load on my bikes. I made it half way across Anglesey before that optimism left me as I struggled to get up hills. I pulled over for a panad and a bit to eat (a “panad" is a colloquial term for a cup of tea)

Feeling refreshed I carried on getting as far as penmaenmawr before deciding that I had to shed some weight. I put over half my clothes in courier boxes and sent them back home. I then got as far as Llandudno Junction before realising I needed to shed even more weight! Luckily for me the family were on their way back from Liverpool SL they .et me and I gave them another couple of kilos worth of stuff (including my laptop).

After that second dropping of unnecessary I found it a lot easier to get on and I cycled as far as abergele before camping for the night.

The place I stayed at was nice, a small farm in the centre of abergele that you had to go through a castle to get to!

The second day I cycled along the coast again past Rhyl where I was joined by a Scotsman for a good couple of miles! We chatted about bike related topics and he left me to head up the cycle route 5 we'd been following along the coast. I should have followed my instinct and carried along the coast by cause this route almost killed me. it was straight up hill for about 10 miles. after wasting time there I cut down and headed towards the coast again before stopping off for lunch!

After that I cycled to Chester before catching the train to Milton Keynes. once in Milton Keynes, I spent another hour riding to where I am now.

I have to apologise about how concise this blog is, but without my laptop its quite difficult to write lengthy blogs!

A new year, a fresh start.

These last couple of months have been absolutely hectic. So much has happened I don't even know where to begin, so i guess I'll start where my last blog entry left off.

After my day tour round Môn, the weather decided that all it wanted to do was rain and blow a gale. And I, being friend of neither decided to use this time wisely and hibernate. I'm not even joking, I spent almost every hour away from work in bed watching back to back episodes of QI.

Fast forward to the end of October and a jaunt up to Manchester to spend Halloween with Vicky. I love fancy dress and always pull out all the stop when making my own outfit. This year I went as Marvel Comics' Apocalypse (En Sabah Nur) and it looked amazing if I say so myself.

Apocalypse and one of his four horesemen - Bubz

A tax rebate in November meant I could start looking for the bike I was after sooner than expected. I had my heart set on a Dawes Super Galaxy or Nomad and every time I was in Manchester I popped into different cycle shops around the city to see if they had any in stock. No one did, not even Evans cycles. Then I remembered a bike shop called Harry Halls that my Dad used to visit when it was behind the Arndale centre (this was prior to the IRA bombing, I believe). I found it using Google Maps on my phone. As I entered the guy asked me straight away what I was looking for (something Evans cycles on Deansgate could try, I was left standing looking aimlessly at bikes for about twenty minutes with all [around 5] sales assistants behind the tills, needless to say I left without saying a thing - poor customer service). The guy in Harry Halls (I forget his name) was extremely helpful: I told him exactly what it was that I planned to do and what bike I was after ideally and he excitedly pointed me towards getting the Ridgeback Panorama. He said that it was a Dawes Super Galaxy in all but name. Cheaper too, but at £1,399 I told him that i would have to think about it.

The next day I was back home in Holyhead and decided to have a look for the bike that was suggested in Harry Hall's (the guy even told me what size frame I'd need for my bizarre physique) on the internet. So I typed in "Ridgeback Panorama 58cm tourer" into Google  hit search, and my jaw smacked the desk. There, on the top of the search list was an eBay entry for the 2012 model (I was expecting to only to be able to afford maybe either a 2010 or 2011 model). I couldn't believe my luck. Plus, it was going for £785. What was the catch i hear you ask, nothing! The guy had bought it for commuting to work and now was moving to a distance where it would be impractical to cycle in everyday. I couldn't believe how coincidental this seemed, so I checked where he lived. I expected it to be down south and would have to get my Dad to pick the bike up on his travels, but no, he lived in Fflint which is a 3hr round trip. I was having an excitement induced panic attack about the whole thing so rang my Dad up to see what he thought. He told me I should try and go outside of eBay and pay in cash if I could get it a bit cheaper still.

I thought that would be a bit cheeky but I had nothing to lose. So I rang the guy up and asked if he still had the bike (Yes). I asked if he wanted cash and do it outside of eBay (Yes). I then cheekily asked if he would part with it for £700 (there was a brief pause then a "yeah alright, go on then"). I almost wet myself. The bike I would be cycling round the world on was not only one that was recommended by a guy who has done tours himself but i got it for half the price. We went to pick it up two days later, my Dad telling me to be cautious about scratches or dents etc. but there was nothing. Not one scuff (the eBay photos made it look that was a small scratch on the frame but it must have been either the florescent lighting in the guy's garage or the flash on his camera) . It was that 'un-used' that there wasn't even any grime on the chains and there were still bits of tape that the manufacturers put on them to protect the bikes whilst in transit. My Dad couldn't get over it. At this point he was as giddy as i was. The guy had even put a Brookes saddle on it. Saving me an extra £50-80. I couldn't believe my luck.

I took it for a spin two days later and what a bike. I've had ridden on decent bikes before but this one oozed craftsmanship. The gear changes were as fluid as anything and i seemed to be able to free-wheel forever - the ride was that smooth. The only change I would make would be to get a larger stem to suit my ridiculously long arms. Otherwise it's perfect. It was that good that i managed some impressive speeds which i recorded using Endomondo on my Samsung GSIII (the recorded speeds may be a bit out.)


Since then, I've not been able to get on the bike for poor weather (we even had snow - in HOLYHEAD - I know!) but other things have happened.

I bought a pair of Ortlieb rear panniers. They're red. And Shiny. Second hand off eBay. As New.

I bought a Kindle Touch (I figured I would need something for me to keep sane on tour - and I love reading books)

For Christmas I got a pair of Northwave touring SPD boots and a bicycle maintenance manual.

I wanted to get a bit of cycling done in the new year but things have been as manic as before Christmas on top of that there was the aforementioned snow and usual bad weather. I was up in Manchester helping Vicky do her university work too.

Then something happened which i felt has been inevitable for some time, but I'm devastated nevertheless. Vicky and I have split up. I'm not going to go into details because that would not be fair on either party. I still love and care for her, but feel like its the right time to finally call it day between us. 

I apologise the for the abridged version of a blog that spans so many months in so little detail, but in all honesty there wasn't much to write. And the more recent events have not left me a mood to write as I normally would. 

Having said that, I thank you for reading this blog.

Martyn!