Quick Note from Bamberg

Well, I've been so busy napping at the pool and wolfing down piles of sausages that I didn't get around to writing a long post... so that will have to wait until tomorrow's five hour train ride back to Holzminden. In the meantime, here are a few photos I snapped during my first week in Germany.


The sunset over a wheat field in Schleswig-Holstein:

Cycling along the Elbe with some friendly German sheep:

Having my pedals repaired in Verden required sawing into my metal shoe cleat. Note the sparks flying everwhere (barely visible in this small photo). A very creative solution to a tough problem (the details of which would bore almost anyone but the most dedicated cyclist to tears...).


More wheat fields, this time in Westphalia:
One of the reasons I move slowly during the day is that it takes me forever to figure out signs like this one. Even small German towns are hubs for dozens of regional, national, and international cycling routes. Amazing!

The Wiser River, my companion for about 400km.

Well, that'll have to be all for now. Until tomorrow, then!

-Ben.

Day 24: Blog Post Cop-Out

Exhausted and hoping to get an early start tomorrow, so I'm writing this post just to say I'm alive and well! Today was actually one of my favorite days of the trip so far, but if I say any more then it'll be a slippery slope and I'll be punching out a book length-post on a BlackBerry. Tomorrow, though, I'll have a computer, and will be sure to write another longer-than-anyone-but-family-would-possibly-read post. (On a related note: Grandma, I have so enjoyed your comments. I see them first thing every morning -- perfect start to the day.) For now, I've made a list of all the things I want to mention so that I won't forget.

For my esteemed cartographer-in-chief, I will add that I spent last night in Stolzenau and tonight am camped 2km down the Wiser from Ruhle.

Bamberg tomorrow, with lots of help from a train.

Km covered today: 131
Km covered yesterday: 79
Km covered so far: 1921

Guten nacht!
Ben.
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Day 23: Break-Down and Tune-Up

Couldn't find anyone up and about at the campground yesterday morning, so I rolled out without paying. Would have felt worse about that, but I had not even pitched a tent or taken a shower. As I cycled off, it struck me that I had not actually seen a single person the whole time, and the bathrooms and office had been locked whenever I checked. Spooky.

I had hoped that navigation would be simple if I just kept the Wiser on my left side, but I proceeded to spend the first hour or so of the day riding up dead-end gravel paths. At one point I ended up smack-dab in the middle of a very large river front garden, a situation I corrected by hoisting Nelly up and over the large wall that separated the property from the main road. As I scampered over I noticed that the owners, an elderly couple, had been watching me with amusement. I gave a friendly wave, shouted "Moin!", and hopped the wall, hoping they would take me for a directionally-challenged German rather than in incompetent American.

My route took me through Bremen, a large city of half a million, in the mid-afternoon. I knew I had some errands I wanted to run -- shipping home my broken tent, buying a power adapter, grocery shopping before the weekend, etc. -- but had no idea how I would find the right stores, particularly for the power adapter. As so often happens on a trip like this, though, things fell into place in the form of a cyclist named Ivan. (Well, things don't often fall into place with cyclists named Ivan, but they do often fall into place.)

About 5km outside Bremen, Ivan sped up behind me, riding a racing bike, and waited for a chance to pass. As he did, I said a friendly "Hallo!" which prompted him to slow down. We got to chatting -- he was a surgeon in Bremen, taking the day off for a ride, and spoke perfect English -- and before I knew it we were weaving our way through the outskirts of the city. He was much more adept at dodging people and cars than I, but having him guide me into the city was a huge time-saver for me, since normally that type of thing would have required stopping every minute or so to study my detailed city map. Eventually, as we climbed a large bride, Ivan theatrically shouted "Welcome to Bremen!"

I've had many Germans tell me that Hamburg is a beautiful city, and it is, in a sort of punky, grungy, industrial sort of way. (For me, the most striking part of Hamburg was the large church in the city that still sits charred and half-ruined from an American bombing raid during World War II.) But Bremen is a truly stunning city -- high steeples on the horizon, a blue river flowing down the middle, and huge brick plazas every few blocks. The streets were filled with young people (Bremen must have a university) and hundreds of people where enjoying the sun on the grassy fields that sloped down to the river. All in all, it was awfully tempting to call it a day right then and there and spend a Friday night in Bremen.

Instead, I had Ivan point me towards an electronics store before we parted ways. As he left, I wondered if had already become the sort of clingy, missing-a-screw-or-two solo cyclist that I encounter every now and then. Had I talked Ivan's ear off, desperate for company? Had he been trying to make a getaway the whole time? Was the very fact that I was asking myself these questions indicative of the early (middle? late!?) stages of a descent into madness?

I spent a few hours checking things off my to-do list (including, against all odds, finding an American-to-European power transformer) and then enjoyed a nap on the river bank. By the time I reluctantly left Bremen, it was 7PM.

A few kilometers outside town I cycled passed a man who bore an uncanny resemblance to Randy Johnson. I spent a good 15 minutes imagining riding with The Big Unit himself, laughing out loud once or twice, before wondering again if I was going insane...

I've fallen into a routine where late in the day I leave the cycling path and use a main road to cover distance more efficiently. I had spotted a campsite on the map that was a few kilometers past a small city called Verden, and that was my goal for the night. Unwittingly, though, I had taken a big short-cut on the main road, and I arrived in Verden around 9:30PM on the road that I was supposed to leave on, meaning that I had actually ridden past the campsite almost 10km down the road! (I only discovered this after spending 30 minutes in denial, studying my maps and trying to figure out what on earth I had done.) Just as I had grudgingly accepted the obvious, and was turning to leave town, my pedal snapped off.

Not snapped so much as slid, I suppose, but either way, the pedal was busted and all that remained where my left pedal had been was a thin, sharp metal rod.

Light was fading quickly and it was clear I wasn't going to make it to the campsite without a pedal. Furthermore, there was no point leaving town when I would clearly need a bike shop as soon as possible. I was not inclined to camp in a park on a Friday night in the city, so I set off to hunt for a hotel. Most towns here have so many well-marked hotels that they seem to taunt me as I ride past to a campground, but after nearly an hour circling Verden again and again, I still hadn't found a single one. Finally, a very helpful waiter pointed me to a small building. "All the hotels in town are booked for the night," he told me, which still didn't explain why they were also invisible, "but you might be able to get a room there."

Left with little choice, I knocked on the door and was greeted by an elderly couple who spoke not a word of English. They had one room that they rented out, a very nice room, actually, and it was available. I pulled out a piece of paper and rather shamelessly wrote "€20?", not having any idea what the room might cost. The woman took the pen from me and shook her head. On the paper "€60", then paused, thought for a second, and crossed that out and wrote "€30" instead. She also drew a breakfast table. Sold.

I explored the town for a bit and then slept like a rock, waking for 9AM breakfast, which was delicious. Back in my room, I was thinking of taking another shower and maybe even a morning nap before setting off to find a bike shop when my hostess came buzzing into the room, clean sheets in hand, and indicated very clearly that it was time for me to hit the road. Sigh...

I found a bike shop and showed the chatty owner and his assistant my broken pedal. They couldn't have been friendlier, and we shot the breeze for quite a while before actually getting down to work. That meant putting a new pair of pedals on (no Egg Beaters here, so I am switching to SPD -- we'll see how that goes), new clips on my shoes, and while we were at it, truing my wheel. (The wheel has been out of true for about 1000km, which means I've been riding without a rear brake. That will be nice to have fixed.) Putting the new clips on my shoes proved to be the most challenging part of the whole operation, since the old ones have been so throroughly worn down that an allen wrench no longer gripped the screw hole. The store owner had the brilliant idea of using an electric saw to create a Phillips head slot on the screw, and he looked a bit like a mad scientist as he sawed into the metal clip, sparks flying everywhere, with my shoe locked in a vice. But it worked perfectly, and the bike is in ship shape now. The only downside, of course, is that this is just one more large and unexpected expense. Two days ago was the first and only day yet this trip that was under budget...

Anyway, it's early afternoon by this point and I suppose I should be setting off. I had hoped to be in Bamberg in two days time but a quick glance at a map of Germany will demonstrate the hilarious improbability of that happening. Instead, I will probably hop a train there on the 28th, spend some time with my friend Lisa (!!), and then set-off with Felix from wherever I stopped. Sounds like a plan to me!

Km cycled yesterday: 130
Km so far: 1711

-Ben.
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Day 22: Riding Germany's Rivers

As I said, I had decided not to pitch the tent last night -- not a cloud in sight -- but woke up this morning at 4:30AM and found my sleeping back drenched with dew. Experience has taught me that the sun will dry everything completely by 8AM, but in the meantime it was chilly, so I got up to walk around and watch the sunrise over the Elbe. A beautiful sight, with the morning mist and a few huge barges on the horizon.

After a few more hours sleep, I woke up and hit the road, following the Elbe straight west into Gluckstadt, where a ferry would take me across to the other side. In town, I bumped into the Danish couple, Robert and Bolvida, I had met the night before, and we chatted for an hour or so about obesity in America (a popular conversation topic here, based on a limited sample size) and Obama's energy policies. Bolvida told me stories of hitchhiking from New York to Los Angeles to Miama twenty years ago. Robert, a triathlete who has completed the Hawaii Iron Man, talked about some of his cycling trips through Germany, including a massive 450km day that traversed nearly half the country in 24 hours! I felt a bit inadequate chatting with him, and made a mental note to think of Robert next time 100km seemed like a struggle. Eventually they pedaled off on their nifty custom built tandem bicycle, headed for Denmark.

I found the ferry after asking several locals for directions. There was a massive line of cars and trucks waiting to board, but the boat could only accommodate about 15 vehicles at a time. It was an unbelievably inefficient process -- some of the trucks must have waited 2 or 3 hours just to get across. They have little choice, though; as far as I can tell, there are no bridges or tunnels across the Elbe. The only other option is to drive east to Hamburg and cross there.

In any event, I pedaled to the front of the line and was across within an hour, planning to follow the Elbe all the way to its mouth at Cuxhaven. That led me straight west, though, and into a brutal headwind. For 30km I had no choice, though, and the progress was slow. Most frustrating was the fact that I was headed west even though I will eventually leave Germany in the southeast -- I was quite literally headed in the opposite direction that I need to go.

The scenery was very reminiscent of Kansas, incredibly flat with miles of visibility. At one point I was cycling parallel to the Elbe, but maybe 2 kilometers south of it, and noticed a city on the horizon. As I cycled though, the grew larger and larger much faster than seemed possible. Eventually I realized that the city was in fact a massive barge, headed for Hamburg, and, from my perspective, drifting silently along an ocean of wheat.

Around 3PM, more than a little dejected about the wind and my limited progress, I pulled off the road and fell asleep in a patch of shade. When I woke up, it was two hours later and the shade had drifted to the other side of the tree, leaving the right side of my face a bit burned. I groggily resumed riding, shifting my course south, and finally fell into a strong rhythm, knocking out 50 kilometers before I pulled into a Subway for dinner. Normally I would opt for a more local option, but Subway was a staple of the TransAmerica ride I took with my cousins last summer, and the nostalgia was too powerful to resist.

Dusk was descending quickly by the time I left the restaurant, and, though I had reached the mouth of the Wiser River in Bremmerhaven, I still hoped to cross to the other side and then cycle another 10km to a campsite I'd seen on the map. Bremmerhaven was larger and more confusing than I had expected, and it took several rounds of assistance from passersby before I found the ferry. (My roadmaps are 1:150,000, rendering them essentially useless for urban navigation. Tomorrow I switch to a different map set that is 1:75,000, with even more detail in cities.) Fortunately, I rolled up just as the gates were closing for the 10PM departure, the last of the night. The crossing was quite lovely, and we chugged along next to a large cargo ship headed down-river that said Singapore on the back. It's amazing to me that even with computers and planes and super-highways, it's still efficient to send something from Singapore to central Germany via ship. Slow but reliable, I suppose.

On the other shore I turned on my reflectors and headlight and raced south as the last rays of daylight left the sky. Finally found the campground, just outside Nordenham, about 45 minutes later, and I've plopped down in what seems like an open spot surrounded by RVs. The office was closed and the showers, to my immense disappointment, were locked upon arrival.

Tomorrow I will begin my ride down the Wiser, which I'll follow for about 400km. Hopefully the route markers will be good; I'd love to pump out 200+ kilometers. First, though, some sleep is in order.

Km covered today: 131
Km covered total: 1581

Posting may be light over the next few days. My power converter has broken, and I'm not sure when I'll find a new one. Trying to conserve battery as a result. Apologies if I've left an email unanswered as a result!

-Ben.
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Day 20: The German Conquest Begins

My plans for an early departure yesterday from Hamburg were foiled by an enjoyable night on the town with Phillipp and some other new friends from the hostel. We watched the Spain world cup game from a nearby bar that was packed to the brim. Sophie tells me that Hamburg has a large Spanish and Portuguese population, so that explains that.

I spent the morning in a smoky internet cafe, the only one I could find, finishing up a disastrously late Harvard Political Review article, then cycled to the station and hopped on a 2PM train to Kiel. When I arrived, I found the streets packed with people and vendor tents. Turns out it is Kiel Week, which consists of a huge sailing race that has been going on for 120 years. I couldn't resist the smell of the bratwurst stand, and it was 4PM before I pulled out of town.

On a whim, I decided to head north. Partly this was because I feel guilty about taking a 13-hour ferry from Sweden. Partly it was because I have fond memories of Schleswig-Holstein, and the brilliantly conniving way that Bismarck acquired it, from my high school European History class. And partly it was because a quick look at the map revealed that no cycle routes headed south.

So I set off with no real destination in mind, poked my way down a few seaside trails (realizing it was the last day I could use 'Keep the ocean on your right and you can't get lost' as my main navigational maxim) and eventually found a signed path that lead me to Eckernforde, an ocean-side tourist town. I had dinner at a nice Vietnamese restaurant and then slept under the stars on the beach.

Hoping for an early start, I had set my alarm for 6:45 this morning, but that ended up being unnecessary, as I was jarred awake at 6:30 by a massive construction vehicle. I have no idea what it was doing, but it was doing it very loudly and it was doing it not 10 feet away. Ah, the joys of illicit camping.

I downed a few energy bars and hit the road, headed south-west. Soon, though, I began to notice that my eyes were itchy. I couldn't stop rubbing them and it quickly became difficult to see. I could feel them swelling and drying out, as if I was having an allergic reaction -- though I have no known allergies. I half-blindly raced my way to the nearest town, and stumbled into a pharmacy. The woman at the counter knew precisely what I needed and handed me a small bottle of some sort of eyedrop and pointed me to the bathroom. The relief was immense, though it took about an hour and a half before I could see clearly again. As I sat in the pharmacy waiting for the drops to take effect, two other men came in for exactly the same problem. One told me that it's caused by the wind blowing "particles" (it was a windy day), and I suspect he meant allergens of some sort. Once I could see well enough to walk around, I popped into the local bookshop and grabbed some new books: Eating Animals, a Nick Hornsby novel, and, on an impulse I now regret, the second Steig Larson novel. The latter will undoubtedly keep me up late tonight. My eyes fully restored, I continued south and reflected on the miracles of over-the-counter medication.

The cycling is quite pretty here, and very flat. I spent most of the day riding on a signed route which kept me on side roads and cycle paths, though sometimes I would lose the route and just follow the main road. The cycling infrastructure is so advanced here that it is almost impossible to find a bad road for cycling: either a road is empty and quiet, or it has a separate cycling path running next to it.

Every now and then, though, the route signs led me on bizarre unpaved paths through farms and forests. The most memorable came late in the evening, when the signs pointed down a gravel path that slowly became narrower and narrower. Several times I had convinced myself that I must be going the wrong way, but a sign would appear at that very moment and egg me on. At one point I was cycling through what could generously be described as a meadow and accurately be called a marsh. With knee high grass, there was literally no visible path. At another point, I found myself on a six-inch wide single track path and realized that if I fell to my left I would land on a cow and if I fell to my right I would land on an electric fence meant to keep said cows out of the neighboring fields. That was a good incentive not to fall.

I ate dinner in a town called Bad Bramstadt, which lived up to its name when I became hopelessly lost on the way out. I circled the town twice before heading off on an unidentifiable road that I hoped would lead somewhere identifiable. It did not.

Instead, I stopped down the road and studied the map, and just when I was sure I had figured out where to go a large woman, having spotted me in distress, came charging out me shouting in what I would have been sure was quite angry German had I not been able to see her face. "Sprekin zie Englisch?," I asked (apologies for what I'm sure is a horrific mangling of the German spelling). "A little bit," she answered, before launching in again with questions, suggestions, and who knows what else in German. Eventually, though, I deciphered what she was saying, and it became quite clear that she was sending me in the opposite direction than the one I'd settled on after lots of pondering. Skeptical, but left with no other choice as my new friend-cum-navigator looked on with a stern face and her hands on her hips, I rode off the way she pointed me. Lo and behold, she was right and I was on the road again.

A few other stories that I wanted to tell will have to wait, since I'm exhausted. Suffice to say that I arrived at my campsite, near Glomstadt, at 9PM, 14 hours after setting out, and am not expecting to have an early start tomorrow. Spent a delightful hour chatting with a pair of Danish cyclists about routes through Germany as we watched the sun set over the Elbe River. In the distance we could hear the shouts and vuvazoolas (?) of the soccer fans watching the German match. Sleeping under the stars tonight.

Km covered today: 151
Km covered yesterday: 52
Also adding on 48 miscellaneous kms for cycling around Gothenburg, Hamburg, and Kiel.
Km covered so far: 1450 (roughly. Don't remember the previous total.)

-Ben.

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Watch Out Andrew Sullivan!

Just learned that this blog has been added to the En-CYCLO-Pedia, a collection of cycling blogs hosted by Travelling Two, my favorite cycling website. Hooray! You can check out my page here.

Ridin' Solo

Well, it's been a long time since I've written (apologies!) and I want to start out by thanking Joe for his awesome farewell post, and, more importantly, for joining me for 1200 kilometers of cycling through some really challenging terrain! Joe was a great cycling partner, and, as he wrote, I've shed many a tear over losing him. I'll miss his navigational skills, his knack for Scandinavian languages (well, relative to mine, at least), his blog posts, and his incredible ability to decide to use the bathroom in places that always seemed discreet until a family of six came barrelling down the road. Most of all I'll miss his enthusiasm and ability to strike up a friendship with everyone he met. So thanks for joining me, Peanott. Nelly and I will look forward to riding with you and Betsy again some day!

Yup, the tent is gonna be mighty lonely for a while... at least I thought so, until I got some big news from India, where my friend Felix has spent the past few weeks. He's decided to meet me in Munich on July 1st and join in the last third or so of the tour. Together, we'll tackle the Alps, passing through Austria, Lichtenstein, Switzerland, and Italy long the way. Can hardly wait to have him along!

Before I write any more, I want to upload a few photos from the last week or so of cycling. As always, they're terribly out of order because of the Blogger software. Again, if you missed any of the previous installments, they´re here, here, here, here, and here.




Here's me feasting on the staples of our Norwegian diet: potato pancakes, Nugatti, cheese, and peanut butter. The goal is to combine all these items into every bite for maximum calorie intake. Note the look of extreme satisfaction and excitement on my face.


We arrived in Stromstad, Sweden via a massive ferry, a cruise ship really. My memories of the trip are hazy, since the all-you-can-eat buffet left me passed out on a couch.

We enjoyed a nice sunset that night in Stromstad.

The Swedish countryside was filled with beautiful churches. Even towns that seemed to have populations no larger than 20 had perfectly manicured churchyards and towering steeples. This church was built in the 12th century!

The original 12th century door is still in place. I didn't exactly fit.

The view from our dinner table in Bovallastrand, Sweden around 10PM.

Stephan, who hosted us for a night in Gothenburg, took this photo just before Joe and I said goodbye. Tears ensued.


Packing up camp about 40 kilomers outside Sandefjord, Norway. We had arrived the previous night in a downpour, and took advantage of a sunny morning to dry most of our gear.

A very small pedestrian ferry was our last ferry in Norway.

Another lovely sunset, but this one turned into a howling windstorm a few minutes later.

Joe patiently put up with me trying about 150 different versions of this shot.

We enjoyed a nice lunch on the lawn of this old castle outside Gothenburg, Sweden.

Another Swedish sunset.


So there are a few more photos! There are hundreds worth posting, but the Blogger software is so slow that they'll have to wait for home and for facebook.

I don't think we've written much about cycling in Sweden, and that shouldn't be taken as a sign that we didn't enjoy it. We did, especially the fact that it was flat! Well, relatively flat at least. There were enough rolling hills to keep things interesting, but it was nothing that could hold a candle to the Road to Hellvik.

Most of our ride was through Swedish countryside, and frequently we were riding into a pretty strong headwind. The landscape was very pretty, but in a much more subdued way than Norway. No striking cliffs or snaking fjords, but plenty of old churches, bright wildflowers, and quaint farmhouses. Our last day of cycling, in particular, was really beautiful; the route turned toward central Sweden for about 30km, and we rode in near silence on winding side roads, buffeted by a slight tailwind and enjoying our last stretch of Swedish countryside.

The next day, after waving goodbye to Joe at the train station, I spent a few more hours in Gothenburg with Stephan, our terrific CouchSurfing host. We listened to recordings of his men's choir and traded YouTube videos. The previous night, he had taken us on a tour of Gothenburg and then we went out and enjoyed a fun Friday night all three of us -- a bit of a last hoorah, and a celebration of the end of Joe's time here. Stephan also worked tirelessly to help Joe and I book our trains and ferries, and to help Joe ship his package home. He was a credit to CouchSurfing -- thanks for everything, Stephan!

Anyway, I said goodbye to Stephan on Saturday afternoon and set off on my own, feeling more than a little lonely. Things didn't start auspiciously. I was planning to catch a 13-hour ferry to Kiel, Germany that night, and had arrived at the ferry terminal (in the pouring rain) more than 3 hours before the ferry left, thinking that would be more than enough time. But I arrived to find the terminal deserted, with no information on how, where, or when I could buy a ticket. Completely flabbergasted, I decided to eat on it, and settled down to a dinner of crackers and peanut butter, hoping things would fall into place.

They did, fortunately, thanks to a woman I called out to as she walked by who explained in broken English that I was at the terminal for the ferry to Denmark. The terminal for Germany, it turned out, was another 5km down the road. Elated, I hurried over to the ferry and had no problem getting a ticket. There were even several other cyclists on board, all German, who gave me some good advice about cycling in Germany.

The ferry was a 13 hours long, and was essentially a huge cruise ship. I ended up in a 4-bunk cabin with three Swedes: a church organist, a postal worker, and a lawyer. They went to bed early while I went out to explore the ship. I ended up, unsurprisingly, in the all-you-can-eat buffet, where I ate my money's worth and then spent a few hours watching the ship's two-man band perform American rock songs while elderly couples danced on the restaurant's wooden floor. One couple, in particular, caught my attention: they had only one dance move, which they must have spent decades perfecting. It involved a succession of rapid spins by the woman, then the man, and then the woman again. They repeated this one move for nearly an hour and I was tempted to ask them how they pulled it off without falling over from diziness.

Anyway, the ferry arrived in Kiel, Germany at promptly 9AM the next morning. I was in a hurry to get to Hamburg, where I planned to meet my good friend Sophie, who wrapping up a 5-day stay in the city as a part of her work for Let's Go Travel Guides. I learned, though, that Hamburg was about 100km away from Kiel, a full day's ride, so I hopped on a train and pulled into Hamburg around noon, where Sophie and I had a joyous reunion. Actually, I should add that I fell sound asleep on the train, woke up with a start and got off the train at the wrong station. Fortunately, having a professional travel writer as your friend has bonuses, and Sophie gamely hopped on the Hamburg subway and led me back to the hostel.

We had a great time catching up, exchanging stories, and seeing a bit of the city together. In the city center, we bumped into to 18-year-old (we guessed) Swedish cyclists riding from Stockholm to Morrocco in 40 days. You can hardly throw a stone around these parts without hitting a cyclist on some sort of amazing adventure!

Sophie left for Dusseldörf today, where she'll wrap up her work for Let's Go, but not before she joined me on an expedition to the local outdoors store, where I bought the maps that will take me through Germany. Together with an employee who seemed to know what he was talking about, I put together a route through Germany: My plan is to catch the train back to Kiel tomorrow (no land travel allowed by anything but bicycle!) and then follow the Weser River south to Würzburg, where I'll switch over to the Main River and follow that to Bamberg. From Bamberg, I'll head to Munich, meet up with Felix, and together we'll plunge into the Alps. Good to at least have a plan!

Back at the hostel, Sophie and I snapped a farewell photo and she headed on her way!


By the way, Sophie writes very entertaining anecdotes about her travels here. But to really appreciate her work, you'll have to pick up the Let's Go Travel Guide for Germany next year!

In Scandinavia Joe and I had adopted the convenient habit of speaking directly in English to just about everyone. This was a by-product of the fact that Scandinavians (especially Norwegians) speak almost flawless English, and of the fact that we spoke hardly a word of Norwegian or Swedish. Still, this is a habit I need to drop in Germany, where the English is not as good. Sophie was more than a little embarrassed when I launched into English conversations with befuddled waiters, bookstore workers, and rail conductors. So I've made it my goal to work on my German, a language I would love to really learn some day.

After Sophie's departure, I wrapped up the Steig Larson novel that Joe passed on to me, which had been keeping me up into the wee hours. Now I understand why his headlamp stayed on so much later than mine every night. It was a fun read in a Dan Brown-ish, compulsively-readable-but-void-of-literary-merit sort of way, and it was definitely a fitting read for the Sweden portion of this journey. Later, I set off on a bicycle tour of the city, joined by my new friend Phillip, a 19-year-old German who is setting off on a 6-day, 600 kilometer ride to Dresden tomorrow. He's already finished a degree in culinary arts, and works as a cook in a hotel in Liepzig. He had me sample a fish sandwich on the Hamburg wharf that was... unique. Phillip said it was a local delicacy, and I'm glad I gave it a try. One consequence of travelling around Hamburg with Sophie and Phillip is that I've been pampered with the presence of experienced Hamburgers (not sure if that's the word, but can't resist) and still can't for the life of me find my way around the city on my own. Next time, I suppose. I am extremely tempted to invite myself along on Phillip's ride, except that I spent about $70 today on maps that take me in the opposite direction!

Anyway, this blog post, as usual, falls into the much-longer-than-intended category. Going to explore a bit more of Hamburg tonight, and head back to Kiel bright and early tomorrow! That will mark the real beginning of Ridin' Solo, as Jason Derulo would put it. We'll see how it goes!

Until next time,
Ben.

Farewell!

Apologies for being so remiss in our blogging the last couple of days - they have been busy ones. And, regretfully, now I have to write my farewell post.

Yes, gentle, devoted readers, my part in this journey has come to an end. Please, do not weep; Ben shed enough grief today at the train station, in the form of buying us a farewell candy bar to share. And anyway, I may continue to sabotage this blog with my paltry writing skills by sending in rogue posts from Denver and Connecticut and whatever other non-European locations I will be in for the rest of the blog's lifetime.

In all seriousness, though, this journey - it cannot be called anything else - was one of the most amazing things I have ever done. I have pushed my body past every limit I could have imagined, repeatedly. I met the most well-traveled, good-hearted, and hospitable people God (or nature, or both) ever made. I camped with the most beautiful views in the world visible through my tent flap. I got to know a great, lifetime friend even better - I am, of course, referring to my bicycle, Betsy. Ben, I hope you didn't think I was talking about you.

Jokes aside, Ben, you were a perfect traveling partner. Thanks for getting me up in the morning, keeping me pedaling up the climbs, and teaching me that the people you meet along the way are the best thing about traveling. Everyone who reads this blog should give Ben all the support you can, because what he is doing is amazing and I for one will continue journeying vicariously through him. Write a comment on his posts. Tell your friends about the blog. Send him good thoughts. Send him money - Norway was not a cheap lady to woo.

As for summaries of the last couple days, I will leave them to Ben. He'll need something to do in the nights alone in the tent, and since he'll be dreaming about me anyway, he'll have clear memories from which to write. Suffice it for now to say that we had a 125 kilometer day, saw old Swedish people tangoing until 6 in the morning, ate cheese underneath an old fortress in Kungalv, and had yet another successful night on the town, Goteborg-style.

If my sporadic and sleepily-written blog posts have passed anything along to any of our readers, I hope it is the itching desire to get out and do a trip like this yourselves. I won't propagandize our cycling or adventure-camping - though both are truly amazing - but in these two weeks I have learned more about this portion of the world than I know about places I have ever lived in for many years. Appreciate the beauty in everything and always keep pedaling, because the top of the hill is really not that far and your body actually has no limits - those are the somewhat cheesy, but totally true life lessons I have learned. I hope everyone reading this blog will get on a bike, even for a few kilometers, and discover whatever unique lessons about geography and life the ride has in store for you. And believe me, the ride will go by in a flash.

So, Ben, good luck and thanks for letting me tag along. Felix, if you do join up with Ben in Munich, know that Ben will be thinking, "Wow, now I REALLY miss Joe." Readers - and I learned that there are many more than the "tens" of you who I initially thought we were addressing - thanks for following us. Your comments, and just the knowledge that you took a second to read about us, helped us keep going. Stay eagerly tuned for the many amazing adventures Ben has yet to tell us about. I know I will. Neru, Oyvind, Mikal, Stephan, thanks for the couches. Lost Viking, thanks for the sailing. Annie Mae and Torild, thanks for breakfast and all the support. Mayra, thanks so much for the card, and for reminding us of the Miley Cyrus song "It's the climb" - I admit, I sang it to myself every time we went up a hill. And Ben's confidence was really boosted when you said he looks like Miley's boyfriend. Norway, thanks for the hills and fjords. Sweden, thanks for not having any hills or fjords. Nelly and Betsy, thanks for being such trusty steeds. And North Sea Cycle Route, thanks for obviously hiring drunk people to decide where to place the approximately 11 signs you bought for your entire 4,000 km route. Just kidding, but some signs between Leirvik and Haugesund would help.

Signing off for the last time - from Europe, at least. Thanks for reading, you are amazing. And so is cycling through Norway and Sweden. 'Til the next journey.

KM covered last two days: 175
KM covered total: 1,173

- Joe
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Follow Along!

Keep meaning to say that my cousin Will has been keeping this awesome GoogleMap of the trip, so everyone can follow along. Thanks Will!

Spent the night in Stenungsund, Sweden. Headed for Goteborg today. Better blog post (and more photos) as soon as possible!

-Ben.

Day 13: The Threshold (of 1,000 km)

Woke up two hours after our alarms went off; the beds in our cabin were just too comfortable. Got our first Swedish breakfast, which was strikingly similar to our Norwegian breakfast - both consisted entirely of donuts.

Because we love adventure, we landed in Sweden without any maps to help us get anywhere, which is sort of important for a cycling trip. We visited Stromstad's tourist info shop and bookstore, and finally found suitable road maps. Upon further analysis, we were pleased to find that the maps also had the North Sea Cycle Route (which we followed in Norway) on them. Just as we had planned all along.

We headed out of Stromstad at 1 postmeridien, and found something absoultely amazingly. The land was... so peculiar... unlike anything we've seen here... what's the word again?... Oh,yes. Flat! Of course, there were many low-grade, rolling hills. Yet, the highest elevation we reached couldn't have been more than 25 meters - a good number, surely, but in Norway we had multiple climbs of at least 100 meters every day.

So, with our legs strong from the Fjords, we easily cycled 82 km in only 3 1/2 hours on the bikes. We took lots of stops to eat and look at old churches. One church in the Bjornes - I am absolutely slaughtering that name, but its sort of close - had been built in the 12th century, and one of the old wooden doors remained from the original building. Ben literally could not fit in it - I guess he would have been to big to be a monk.

We pulled into Bovallstrand just as its only restaurant was closing, but the owner was nice enough to serve us some of their delicious seafood soup. The town has only 400 permanent residents, but tons of massive summer houses. The houses are empty year round, then, from July 1 to August 15, the population explodes. We are camped with a beautiful view of docked sailboats, and the night sky is bright enough to allow me to finish Steig Larsson's "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo," which is set sort of around this area. The only problem is that now I'm going to have to read the other books in the series, too.

Oh! And we will hit 1,000 km after only 5 minutes of cycling tomorrow! Woo hoo! And, now that we are in terrain that can be more easily conquered than Norways, we will really start racking up the km's. Well, I will for two more days, but I have full faith that Ben will keep going strong once we part in Goteborg. That is, after the multiple days he will spend in heartbreak over my departure.
KM today: 82
KM total: 998 (I forgot to list the km's yesterday; we did 45)

- Joe
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Sweden!

Woke up at our beautiful campsite by the shore, happy to see the sun finally out. Broke camp leaisurely, since the soonest ferry to Stromstad that we would be able to make was not until 4:30. Stopped at a grocery store for our last breakfast in Norway, then had a pretty leisurely ride through Norwgian farmland to Sandefjord. Bought tickets for the ferry, which was coming into port just was we arrived. We saw that it was actually a cruise ship, and were excited to get on board. And it was life changing. Well, to the extent that it had an all-you-can-eat-buffet, where Ben and I sat for pretty much the entire two and a half hours. The food - especially the salmon, of course - was delicious, and the view of the ocean out the windows was beautiful. We waved goodbye to Norway and arrived in Stromstad, Sweden, where we rented a tiny cabin. We toured the town, watched some World Cup matches, and are excited to set off towards Goteborg (which every single person we've met on this trip pronounces a different way) tomorrow. So, goodbye for now, Norway. And hello Sweden!

- Joe
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Day 11: Wherein Sweden Eludes Us

Lots to write about from today, but sleep is a way up there on my priority list, so I may go for a more rapid summary style than usual.

Slept last night next to a church in Risor -- decided not to pitch the tent since it was a nice night. That turned out not to be the best decision since the mosquitoes were out in force. Too lazy to do anything about it, we curled up as far into our sleeping bags as possible, pleased with ourselves for being in bed by midnight for the first time this trip. Unfortunately, the bugs plus some loud seagulls who decided to have a screaming contest right above us at 5AM plus a neighbor who decided to have a hammering contest with himself around 7AM all combined for a rough night's sleep.

The day started with a 15 minute ferry ride, a 20km jaunt across an island, and then another 15 minute ferry back to the mainland. We knocked these out in good time and enjoyed an outrageously large snack when we landed, thinking at the time that it was our last chance to enjoy the staples of our Norwegian diet: Nugatti (off-brand Norwegian nutella), Norwegian cheese, and potato pancakes that we buy fresh each day.

See, we thought Sweden was in reach today because we had studied the maps and had seen that there was a ferry from Langesund to Stromstad, Sweden. Originally, we had planned to ride to Sandefjord and then take the ferry across to Sweden, but this new ferry would shave about 84km and put us back on track, potentially, to reach Gothenburg on the 18th.

Well, it wasn't to be. We learned at around noon that the ferry company running the line from Langesund to Stromstad had been bankrupt for years.
But there was a back-up plan! There was also a ferry from Langesund to Helgeroa, which would cut off about 40km from the route and put us in a position to reach Sandefjord tonight. Surely this ferry would be solvent!

Well, the ferry is indeed operational...starting on June 23rd. This was particularly frustrating because Helgeroa is directly across the fjord from Langesund. Without the ferry, we were left to cycle 20km down the fjord headed north, and then 20km back up the fjord just on the other side. It was a bit like the scene in Lord of the Rings were the death riders are chasing Frodo and gang. The hobbits reach a river and jump onto a ferry just out of reach, while the riders are left to cross at the nearest bridge, 36 miles downstream. That's basically our exact situation except: 1) we are not evil death riders 2) we are chasing an immobile country, not a ring and 3) the last ferry left sometime last August, not mere seconds before our arrival. These are the sorts of things I think about when cycling in the rain.

Which is a lovely segue into the story of our evening, which involved lots of rain. We have had absolutely perfect weather this entire trip. Our only rain was during our fantastic rest day on The Lost Viking, and only added to the enjoyment of our appreciation of spending the day under a (floating) roof. Anyway, we paid our dues today -- clouds followed us for most of the afternoon but really began to unload on us around 5PM. We pulled into a grocery store, happy for an excuse to gorge ourselves again, and tried to wait out the water. After about an hour, things seemed to quiet down, but the rain returned almost immediatetely, and still hasn't let up. Our last 30km were quite chilly, and we arrived in Helgeroa cold, tired, and ready for some warm food. Fortunately, this tiny town had one restaurant that was open until 9:30PM -- and we burst through their doors at 9:25 to make sure we got orders in on time.

We're now camped, very warm and very content, down on the sea shore. Tomorrow, barring another unexpected change in plans, we will ride the 40km to Sandefjord and ride the ferry into Sweden!

The terrain today was hilly, including one gravel section with the steepest hill I have ever cycled up. Fortunately, it was only a 20 meter climb, and someone had the fantastic idea of paving that 20 meter stretch. In spite of the hills and the rain, we finally managed to break the 100km barrier. Hooray!

Km covered today: 115
Km covered total: 871

God natt!
-Ben
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

The Haiku

Two nights ago, as I was delirious with sleepiness, I told Ben I would write a Haiku for the blog. So, without further ado:

Cycling in Norway
Yay yay, yay yay yay. Is fun.
It is raining lots.

- Joe
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Day 10: Sweden, Here We Come

Woke up at 10:30, freshly showered and laundered. Got an awesome tour of Grimstad from Mikal, our host. Mikal is generous to his core. He just started a restaurant (in the nicest space in Grimstad) is both and consultant and a DJ, and used to organize a concert at which the likes of Sean Paul played. We went to the beach and dove into the shockingly cold ocean water and toured the Grimstad theatre, which is carved right into the side of a high wall of red granite. We then ate the ultimate junk food: a kebab pizza.

With all the fun in Grimstad, we didn't hit the road until 3 p.m. Riding was relatively uneventful today. It was flat, with our highest climb only 70 meters. We skirted the edges of countless beautiful lakes with red and white, triangle-roofed houses clustered around them and rocky islands - or "scarries," as we learned in Kristiansand - in the middle of the water. We passed through Arendal, a large town with a beautiful red granite church and a nice town square that Sunday walkers passed through with ice cream cones. We stopped for a snack in Tvendenstrand, a name we still cannot pronounce. Then we pushed on to Risor, where we are camped now.

Here are some interesting notes from the last couple days. Yesterday, we saw a peacock hanging out in the yard of a small house off a gravel road in the middle of nowhere. It has been raining the last few days, and slugs of every shape and size were everywhere on the gravel paths yesterday. We cycled over an old wooden damn, and saw a handicapped fishing sign (the common outline of a man in a wheelchair, with a fishing pole). We have eaten so much pizza it's insane, and we've been told by many its Norway's national dish. And my butt hurts.

Tomorrow, we will get on a ferry in Langesund, 70 k away, and ride it to Stromstad, Sweden! Our second country on the voyage so far. So long for now, Norway!

Km covered today: 90
Km covered total: 756

- Joe
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Even More Photos

Well, we had wanted to get an early start today and knock out our longest day of cycling yet, but when Mikal offered to take us swimming and show us around the town, we couldn´t say no. Here are a few photos of our latest exploits. We´ll pull out in an hour or two. The photos have been by far the most popular part of this blog. If you missed any of the previous installments, they´re here, here, here, and here.


Mikal took us to an amazing local theatre that´s carved directly into the rock. During the war, Hitler wanted to use this red limestone to build a victory palace for himself. Instead, the rocks he had carved ended up being used in the local bus station.
We toured Grimstad in Mikal´s vintage roadster.
I worked up the courage to take a dive into the North Sea.

And then tried to warm myself back up in the sun on the diving board.
Mikal snapped a photo of the two of us. We don´t have many of those!

Pretty views.
-Ben.

New Photos!

We've once again been incredibly lucky, and ended up with some couches to sleep on and a computer to use to upload photos, thanks to a friendly and generous local named Mikal! So here are some new pictures. As always, they aren't in any particular order.

We explored some beautiful little islands near where we harbored for the night on our sailing trip.


Beautiful views.
Øyvind brought us in to harbor for the night.

Our fearless leader.


We spent the night in this beautiful secluded cove, which we had all to ourselves.
Joe helped out with the bouys.

The harbor in Farsund.

Because of a broken tent, we slept under the stars in Farsund with a great view.

In Mandal, we spent the night on the beach.

We jerry-rigged Joe´s rear rack with tape and a bungee cords.

Another photo of us pulling into harbor on Øyvind´s boat.



Guess that´s all for now!

-Ben.

Day 9: Back On The Steeds

As Joe wrote, we had a lot of fun last night with Oyvind and his friends, exploring Kristiansand and chatting into the wee hours back on the boat. We weren't exactly up and at 'em at the crack of dawn, though: a 1PM wake-up meant that we left Kristiansand at 4, since we had to replace Joe's rear rack and explore the local street food festival that was taking place this weekend. It was tough to say goodbye to Kristiansand; thanks to Oyvind and his friends, we had a great stay.

Fortunately, our late departure didn't stop us from putting in a full day of cycling. The ride started out with a rainy mist, and we fell into a great rhythm, riding for a solid 32km before taking our first break of the day in Birkeland, where we stumbled on some sort of local talent-show in the park. It was a concert being put on by the local school (as far as we could tell), and most of the town seemed to be in attendance. Some of the performers were remarkably talented; others left something to be desired. They all sang American songs (Miley Cyrus was a popular choice), and there was something more than a little surreal about sitting in a Norwegian park listening to the local elementary schoolers sing the songs that we hear everyday at home. It really is a flat world.

We had planned to spent the night in Lillesand, about 50km from Kristiansand, but our legs were feeling strong and our pace was good (and we are getting eager to be on Sweden!) so we decided to push on to Grimstad. The section of the route between Lillesand and Grimstad consists of gravel paths that are described as the most challenging part the remaining 400km in Norway, and we figured it would feel good to get them out of the way.

First, though, we had to find our way out of Lillesand, and we became hopelessly lost, completely unable to find the route out of town. We had a very thorough tour of Lillesand as a result -- perhaps six full loops through the city center -- and were about to give up entirely and take the highway to Grimstad when we miraculously popped out onto a back road and spotted our familiar red route sign. As always, I assured Joe that it was precisely what I had planned.

The road soon turned to gravel, and it was difficult riding, particularly after the recent rain. I had to push the bike to the top of more than one hill, and Joe took a graceful tumble off the back of his bike on a steep and slippery climb. The real challenge, though, wasn't the terrain -- it was finding our way. What was a gravel path when our maps were made was now being converted into paved road, which meant that many route signs were completely MIA. The construction work had also created many new trails that forked off in all directions, and we spent a frustrating 30 minutes following various possible trails before ultimately (and miraculously) settling on the right one. At one point we crossed over a 4-lane super-highway that must have also been brand new, since it was nowhere to be seen on out maps. (These new roads are indicative of a larger trend we've seen, which is that construction is going on everywhere, all the time. It's as if Norway has been completely unscathed by the recession.)

Anyway, we did eventually make it to Gromstad, arriving around 10PM after a beautiful last stretch of riding in the twilight.

Our goal is to be in Sweden in three days, which will require a lot of cycling. Hopefully the land will stay as flat as it did today.

Joe promised to blog a haiku tonight, but he's sound asleep across the room from me, so I guess that'll have to wait. We're again being hosted by a CouchSurfing affiliate, and we've showered and even have some laundry in the wash! Life is good.

-Ben.
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

Day 8: Rest Day in Kristiansand

We woke up aboard Oyvind's beautiful sailboat amidst the "scarries" - a Norwegian name for small, rocky islands that translates to "island gardens." Ben and I prepared spaghetti and meat - not meat sauce, just meat - for breakfast, the same thing we made for dinner the night before.

It was drizzly out, so we stayed below deck reading, sleeping, and listening to the radio until 3 p.m. Ben, Oyvind, and I then when for a hike through the scarry in search of a ledge that people jump off of into the water. We soon saw, however, the the water was infestd with jellyfish.

So, after climbing to the of the rocks for nice panoramic views, we went back to the sailboat and got in the inflatable dingy. We rowed through a narrow pass between two rock ledges. On one side, the name Olav Haralsson, the viking king who first settled in Norway, was etched into the stone. Legend says he cut the pass through nearby rocks with a swing of his sword so his ships could make it through. On the other side of the pass, the coat of arms of three recent Norwegian kings (from 1935 to 1971) were engraved in the rocks. Kings visit the spot because of its viking history. It was a fitting end to the visit, because Oyvind calls his boat "Thr Lost Viking" and had a plastic viking helmet an axe on board.

There was hardly any wind so we had to use the motor to ride back to Kristiansand. Oyvind handled it himself in his heavy-duty rain-onesie while it was raining - Ben and I are usually much more hardy travelers, trust me - then I went on deck to "help" when the sun came out. My job mostly consisted of looking at the beautiful scenery, but I also got to help tie things, take in the bumpers, and even steer for a little while. It was an amazing way to get a change of pace from all that cycling.

Back in Kristiansand, we hadwhat everyone here calls the Norwegian national dish - frozen pizza. Then we explored Kristiansand's nightlife for a bit, and ended with another Norwegian tradition - MacDonald's, where everyone in Kristiansand seems to collect after 2 a.m.

It has been an amazing day of rest, and we will have many good memories of Kristiansand as we get on our bikes again. We are forever grateful to Oyvind for his gracious hosting and the chance to sail the Norwegian seas!

- Joe
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

A Few More Photos

We're still on Øyvind's beautiful boat, and have the opportunity to load a few pictures from my second camera. As usual, they're presented in no particular order, but this time at least they have captions!

I study two rainbows from the bow of Øyvind's sailboat:

Enjoying a kebab:


On the trail, we met Veib, who has cycled all the way from the Netherlands, roughly 3000km:


A great view after a tough climb:

Enjoying a rest break on the well-heated pavement:


I tried to work on my tan, but ended up with a sunburned back and windburned stomach:


The ferry takes bicycles, motorcycles, semi-trucks, and everything in between :

Working on a flat tire outside Egersund:

A beautiful bridge outside Tananger:

One of the many long bridges we've crossed:


A typical scene from the road:



Every now and then we encounter some confusing signs:
Another typical view:

Climbing:


Really should go to sleep -- back on the road tomorrow. Had a great rest day under gloomy skies on the sailboat today. Back on the road by afternoon tomorrow!

-Ben.