biking over the alps

Day 8: Nürnburg to Bad Berneck
The simple presence of a good friend, sunshine and clear skies and a fully-functional bike were more than enough to renew my motivation to get this stupid trip done. We had to wait until the afternoon to collect the fully-functional bike from the repair shop, but set off immediately afterwards, slathered in sun cream, like, well, two pasty Micks on a bike trip.

We had some swanky new GPS technology at hand, but quickly reverted back to good old paper maps after the machine led us on a seemingly infinite loop through a forest. As soon as we emerged from the undergrowth back into hilly Bavarian normal society, we took a little break at a bakery. As we studied our map, there was a pop and a hiss from behind us - my bike tyre had just burst, with no-one and nothing within five metres of it. Thank goodness it happened when we were stationary - if that had happened while belting down a hill, they'd still be scraping bits of my face off the tarmac. As we quickly put in a new valve, we agreed that it might be best not to dwell on that thought.

Outside Bayreuth, we fell into line with a middle-aged man out for an evening spin. He was blown away by my bravery in doing the first few days of the trip (don't worry, I set him straight about the fact that a lot more stupidity than bravery is required for such an undertaking) and nearly killed himself trying to keep up with us. I think we made his day.

We kept going until after eight, delayed by another puncture, but just didn't have enough time to make it to our planned stop for the night. Forty kilometres behind schedule. Touch and go as to whether we'll make it to Berlin on day 10, but at least the motivation is back.

Our stop for the night, a little guesthouse in Bad Berneck, was run by possibly the obnoxious woman I have ever met in my life. She shouted at us, was rude to us, and generally treated us like a massive inconvenience, but went a long way towards redeeming herself by (very unwillingly) cooking us a huge and much-needed steak each. We'll need the fuel to get back on track tomorrow.

Day 9 - Bad Berneck to south of Leipzig
It was naive of me to think that there would be no more hills at all once the Alps were behind me- Bavaria's very hilly, but thankfully the weather was sunny and clear enough to make the pain enjoyable.

According to the plan, we needed to get to Leipzig tonight, but that would have required biking around 190km in one day. We decided to simply take off and keep going until we collapsed. We were already on the road that would bring us all the way to Berlin, and the removal of the possibility of getting lost makes such a huge difference - one can concentrate solely on cycling as efficiently as possible.

Eleven hours hard cycling later, we were spent. We had both tried to give up at some point earlier in the day, but had been convinced to carry on by the other. Having someone to spur you on makes all the difference. We really just wouldn't have been able to do it without each other. In the end, we didn't make it all the way to Leipzig and crashed in a small guesthouse on the southern confines of the city. 190km to Berlin...

Day 10 - Leipzig to Berlin
We woke up to an overcast and windy day. The wind, despite being unpredictable and swirly (apologies for my use of technical meteorological terminology) was mostly at our backs and we made it to Leipzig in no time. We had made the decision to take the train from the southern suburbs to the northern ones, simply to save time pissing around with traffic lights, and to make getting lost less likely. I had done the same in Milan and even though it felt a little like cheating, I didn't care in the slightest.

As we got nearer and near to Berlin, each kilometre started feeling like ten. It was almost as though my body knew that the end was very close, and all the complaints that it had manfully been keeping to itself for the last week were beginning to voice their irritation at me. I managed to trick it into surly silence with the reminder that there was a delicious kebab, a delicious beer and a delicious girl waiting just down the road.

So, yes, we made it, and on schedule too. I'm still not sure if I am glad I did it - I have a feeling that that might have to wait for another few weeks. I've simply been enjoying the slightly unfamiliar familiarity of Berlin, trying to track down some students and looking forward to the World Cup. And yes, cycling to blog HQ with a very big and pained grimace on my face.

And I may or may not already have an idea for another big biking trip, pencilled in for some point in the not-hugely-distant future. But shh! Don't tell anyone...

Day 4 - Leichtenstein to outside Memmingen
Finally had a spot of human contact - there were some interesting people in the hostel in Schaan. One was an old guy who had retired and just spent his time biking around Europe. His plan was to get to Sicily sometime by the end of the summer, and oddly, my route back to Berlin took me very close to his hometown near Leipzig. Another was a guy from New York who was planning to hike all the way to Geneva in twenty days. Good to know that I am not the only nutter out there.

Made it across Liechtenstein and into Austria, then across the final border into Germany. Five countries in two days, not bad.

My guesthouse was in a little village outside Memmingen, and I was not only the only guest, but the only living soul in the place. Which turned out for the best, as every single item of clothing I own got utterly drenched in the non-stop rain, so I had the place to myself after the proprietor hung around long enough only to give me a key and bung all my clothes in the dryer.

Day 5 - Memmingen to Augsburg
This day had been pencilled in as the easiest stage, clocking in at a comfortable 92km. This, however, did not take the dreadful weather into consideration - it lashed rain all day, with an evil evil headwind.

I had always promised myself that I would take the train as soon as it stopped being fun, and since it had stopped being fun a good four hours before I actually took the train, I don't feel bad about it at all. After all, it did only shave about ten kilometres off the total, and saved me the annoyance of getting lost while looking for my hostel in Augsburg.

A couple of friends of mine live in Augsburg, and they brought me for a delicious big dinner and some idle chatter. I don't think they realised how important it was for me to hang out with people who know me. It wasn't all good news though - the next day, my scheduled rest day, was also a holiday in Bavaria, so everything would be closed. With my back brakes in ruins after coming down the Alps, it wouldn't be possible to get them repaired until the day after, when I was supposed to be on the way to Nürnberg.

Day 6 - relaxing in Augsburg
Well, relaxing might be pushing it, as the non-stop rain and the public holiday made even popping out for food (of which I need an enormous amount) quite a stressful procedure. The good news was that that forecast was for a complete turnaround in weather conditions - from rain and a headwind to sun and wind at my back.

However, there is one thing that is more important than weather conditions, and much more important that physical ability. Yes, motivation, and mine seems to have gone on holiday. Were it not for the fact that my friend Ciaran had flown over from Ireland to Nürnberg to bike the last three days with me, I would have been seriously considering throwing in the towel. At one point, I even started calling some of my friends to berate them for having supported me on this ludicrous idea - surely at least one of them should have had the common sense to tell me that this would be a really stupid thing to do.

Day 7 - Augsburg to Nürnberg via Donauwörth
Murphy's Law suggests that anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. While this is almost definitely at least a small exaggeration, there is a certain amount of truth to it.

Before setting out today, the worst things that could have happened would have been the following:

-both of Augsburg's bike shops refuse to fix my bike because I don't have an appointment
-they delay me by two hours in order to tell me this
-I decide to bike to Nürnberg anyway, as the bike is still functional and safe(ish)
-my map mysteriously disappears from my pocket while en route with my crocked bike
-I get horribly lost and end up on a mud track through a field for about 5km
-My back wheel is buckled when I emerge from said field
-I proceed to take the longest possible route to Donauwörth due to lack of a map and listening to the directions given by inbred locals
-The road into Donauwörth, when I eventually find it, is completely flooded and impassable

How strange, therefore, that all of those things actually happened. So, when I eventually managed to get into Donauwörth via a different route, I went straight to the train station and got the next train to Nürnberg.

I had been intending to blog a heck of a lot more on this trip, but a combination of tiredness and low morale due to dreadful weather has held me back.

Anyway, I am here in Augsburg and have covered more than half of the distance to Berlin. There aren't any more mountain ranges in the way, and I am meeting a friend in Nürnberg tomorrow and he'll be biking with me until the end in Berlin. So, things are most certainly looking up.

I'm just really annoyed that the weather has conspired in such a callous way to ruin my enjoyment of the trip. Physically, I have been well able for it, but biking for six or seven hours in the rain and wind is simply no fun. Not to mention quite petrifying, as huge lorries rip past, spraying unfortunate cyclists with dirty truck-water.

Still, I did organise some thoughts while on the road.

Day 1 - Genova to Milan
Took the metro to the edge of Genova to avoid getting lost for hours in the city. This was after a lengthy delay in the hostel, where one little bastard kid from a big group of little bastard kids stole my sunglasses and refused to own up or give them back. Luckily the staff in the hostel were great, and offered me my choice of the sunglasses in their lost and found. Got a natty pair of fake Vuittons. Really suited the tight red cycling top and tight biking shorts.

The mountains outside Genova are initially pretty green hills, which turn into slightly foreboding big hills, before finally revealing themselves to be evil big mountains. I huffed and puffed my way up in decent time, motivating myself by muttering 'lazy!' at every car that passed by going up; and 'boring!' at every one that passed by on the way down.

There were a heck of a lot of cyclists cruising around, obviously all going faster than me, what with them having racing bikes and not having 20kg of luggage hanging out of them. I am not sure what the etiquette is, but I happily slipped into their slipstream on the way down - this makes cycling 20% easier, as you don't have as much wind resistance to battle through. Thanks, Ligurian cyclists!

The rain arrived with five minutes to go to my hotel, and that five minutes was more than enough to get me soaked to the skin. Still, the hotel was so seedy that the owner allowed me to bring my bike into the room with me. There was a bidet right by the head of the bed. Not my best night's sleep.

Day 2 - Milan to Campodolcino
Took the metro to the edge of the city again. An inspector checked my ticket and dryly informed me that I would have to pay two fines - one for not having a bike ticket and another for my ticket being invalid for that stop. As he did this, he pushed the button to open the door for me. I scarpered without further ado.

Around Lake Como, there are lots of terrifying tunnels. Most of them run for a couple of kilometres, and even though they are well lit and ventilated, I nearly pooped my pants. The main problem is that there is nowhere for noise to go, so when a motorbike is speeding up behind you, you can hear it coming long before you normally would and therefore have a good ten to fifteen seconds to be utterly petrified about the impeding invisible doom on its way to explode your eardrums.

Stopped for a little too long to admire some of the views, and ended up missing my ferry across the lake. Had to wait over an hour for the next one, time I spent worrying about the arduous 1,000m climb ahead of me. It'd be difficult enough just by itself, but with over 100km already down, the task would be just that bit harder.

Sparing the details of sweat and swearing and pain, I made it. I had been just about to give up and collapse in a whimpering heap on the ground when I rounded a corner and saw the beautiful little village of Campodolcino - an expensive ski resort in the winter, but a cheap haven for lone cyclists in the summer. I was the only guest in my hotel and they treated me like a king. The only dampener was the weather forecast, predicting low temperatures and very, very strong southerly winds for tomorrow.

Day 3 - Campodolcino over Splügenpass, through Switzerland to Vaduz, Liechtenstein

This was the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my life.

Even when the biggest slopes were far behind, the headwind made progress painfully slow. I broke down in tears on the side of the road at one point, and then the rain closed in for the last hour. But I made it.

All the difficulty aside, there were some periods of relatively good weather with decent visibility of the glorious mountains all around. Plenty of cycle paths, weaving their way over rickety bridges and along craggy cliffs.

More tales of muddy damp misery to come!