The End

So we are now back home in London. Whilst we have been pedalling my mum has been keeping up with us on her exercise bike, so here is a picture of the three of just before we left to cycle to Durham to get the train home.








ST PETERSBURG

This was a journey to St Petersburg. It has taken us till now to come to a conclusion on St Petersburg. We didn't like it that much, and we couldn't put our finger on why. We think we have finally got to the bottom of it, so here goes. St Petersburg is a place of huge ostentation. The buildings are massive, art galleries have vast collections in room after room, which are well able to mop up the massive numbers of tourists that troop around. Enormous public squares abound, almost entirely dedicated to car and coach parks. The city seems to be in thrall to cars and coaches. It seems you can park your car anywhere. If there's no room for your SUV, just put it on the pavement. Want to park your coach in the middle of the equivalent of Trafalgar Square? Go ahead. Public spaces are not celebrated; we only found 100 metres of pedestrian only street in the week we spent there. The layout of the streets and squares has precluded any alleyways, intimate spaces, and what my architect pals call glimpses. This is not a city on any scale you could call human, but it does look good from a distance.
Enough. The Russian people, were almost universally friendly and helpful, and helped us out of many scrapes.

All up we cycled just over 4000 km; 2700 to get there and 1300 to get back. So if you should ever want to cycle to St Petersburg, you'd be better off going the way we came back. You would also have the wind behind you. It wouldn't be any cheaper, as accommodation was more than twice as much in the Nordic countries as it it was on the south side of the Baltic.

We have weighed the bikes, us and all our gear, and will publish an analysis later for anyone interested. We need to find a way to get the weight down for the next trip; we are both brushing up our French

Bergen - The last bit by train

What's this bird all about? The pied wagtail has become our mascot on this trip. Not a day has gone by on the road without seeing one. The cuckoo was singing in Germany but changed its tune by Poland. The Stork appeared in Eastern Germany and was with us as far as the Russian border. Skylarks, Corncrakes and Swallows didn't follow us to Scandinavia. Rosebay willow herb began to flower in Belarus, Heather appeared in Finland and both are still with us. But the wagtail was with us all the time. A more poetic person might think it was leading the way.


Sorry about that - Ted's having one of his bucolic moments. Now what was I saying about Swedish haystacks ...?

We only did about 200 km in Norway on our bikes but it seems the best place so far for bikes that we have been to. The last 40 km into Oslo was along a really well marked cycle track and the centre of Oslo seems to be given over to bikes. If you could stomach the the price of accommodation here it would be a great place. We have had our most expensive half litre of beer at 5 pounds, and some hotels, after charging 100 quid a night, cheerfully charged us 15 pounds a night to put our bikes in the hotel carpark. I did get my own back in one place by replacing the beer we had drunk from the minibar by identical cans we bought in a supermarket at one third the price. I don't want to put people off. Part of our problem is that we we were on a mission to get to Oslo. A properly planned cycle tour could have made use of the "Summer Hotels" which are very common in the Nordic Countries. These rooms are in halls of residence with en suite and cooking facilities. We managed to find a few of these along the way and they were great.

In fact part of the problem is that the northern summer holidays seem to be squeezed into just a few weeks around now. Although we have been booking a few days in advance we had to take what was available - so last night it was a palatial suite of rooms into which we parked our bikes at the suggestion of the receptionist.

It is a great place to cycle - in fact we are already planning our next trip. We have been enjoying the luck of the Irish with the weather and have had an unbroken 3 weeks of beautiful sunny weather. In fact over the whole 10 weeks we have only been soaked 5 times. Yesterday we took the train from Oslo to Bergen over the mountains. It was pretty cold and snowy on the plateau but there were loads of cyclists piling on and off the train to ride an old track down to the sea. It looked fantastic but maybe that was because the sun was shining. However it presents us with lots of new opportunities to kit ourselves out in a new wardrobe of cold weather cycling gear.

Today our luck has run out and it's pouring - typical Bergen weather so we are told. It doesn't matter as we are on the ferry to Newcastle tonight.

Although we had to pay in some hotels this one didn't charge us for putting the bikes in their cellar. The hotel was a conversion from the town's jail, and the cellar ( the punishment block) is still maintained as a museum. They have never been safer.






In our last post we spoke of narrow main roads in Sweden. How do you fancy cycling down here?










Here's a picture of the train half way up to the plateau. We would love to have cycled up to here ...honest.

No Cakes or Ale

We have just arrived in Kongsvinger in Eastern Norway after a wiggly journey across central Sweden. We can't post pictures here. ( a very kind receptionist has let us use the office computer in this 110 pounds a night hotel. It's the only one for miles - honest) Main roads in Sweden are not for cyclists We'll post a picture when we get to Oslo to give you an idea. So we have had to zigzag around, through some fantastic countryside. Norway is very hilly, not a surprise, but we think tomorrow will be downhill to Oslo.

Ted has understated the horrors of the Route 61. We were on a perfectly nice cycle path out of town and were debouched onto a two lane dual carriageway which rapidly went down to one lane and the space for bikes to about 12 inches. Our panniers were scrapping along the crash barrier and the vehicles coming past us at 100 KPH were scrapping the central divider. We came off at the appropriately named Kil and took the back roads through some beautiful countryside adding 30 Km to our journey. You might ask why we didn't do that in the first place. We did today - this involved 20 Kms on a dirt road which was amazingly smooth and infinitely better than any of the Russian roads we went on.

Now to the cakes - or lack of them - and even worse the complete absence of cold beer in regular supermarkets in Sweden. I thought the archaic rules about buying liquor in the state stores had long since disappeared - but no. It was not possible to buy beer stronger than 3.5 % in the supermarkets. That would have been OK but it seems that supermarkets aren't allowed to sell cold beer. Apparently most of the beer sold in Sweden is this low alcohol stuff - it would be interesting to find out if it is the solution to binge drinking. We certainly saw a lot of drunks in parks - and Ted had a very nice chat with one of them when we were having our lunch. The next day we were back in the bus shelter! Cakes are also seemingly impossible to find and Ted needs his fix every night. We found shelves of crispbreads and other healthy foods but no unhealthy sweet stuff.

A quick picture based session from Sigtuna

This will be a picture intensive bulletin. we are in Sigtuna, about 60 km north of Stockholm. Apparently the oldest town in Sweden. We picked it as a close place to Stockholm as we thought that getting out of Stockholm by bike would be difficult. It was! lots of well marked cycle tracks that take you off into housing estates and then dump you. No moaning, the provision is miles better than the UK and these tracks, we think, are meant for locals.

Sigtuna turned out to be a wonderful place, but we won't go on about it.

Here are some pictures. We mentioned the tortuous route our ferry took through the islands, this is another ferry boat taken from ours as we approached the half way mark. We were both doing 40 km/hr at the time(my GPS). It's a crummy pic but it conveys the excitement.

Here are a batch of brides in St Petersburg

Here is Sarah retrieving some banana skins from someones post box which she thought was a litter bin.

For the haystack fans here is a Finnish haystack field

Has winter arrived?

So now we are in Stockholm and it's cold and wet. We got the ferry across from Turku. We are having a day off here and will be heading west tomorrow.

Finland continued to be a very comfortable and delightful place. Towards the end though we felt there was a touch of Pleasantville about it. Mind you we didn't get to Helsinki, where Sarah assures me I would have been able to feed my desire for graffiti. Despite the wonders of Stockholm the only internet Caff we could find doesn't support pics but we will try another later.

My love affair with the Finns nearly took a jolt at an unfortunate hotel we were obliged to stay at a few nights ago. Dinner was an eat as much as you want buffet affair. and after we were seated for a while a couple arrived with their child and sat unnecessarily close to us. They proceeded to pile plates with enormous amounts of food, and as soon as each plate was half eaten dart off and bring back a new one. I was delighted to discover that they were Russians, (and they cheated on the bill.)
Don't get me wrong (we are still going on about Russia). We had a great time on the train out of St Petersburg. We took an outgoing suburban train at 08:10 and got on in good time, parking our bikes, one in the vestibule and one in the half empty 120 seater carriage. After a few stops the carriage was swamped and then had a about 240 people jammed in, much like the Northern Line on a bad Monday morning. There was not a single moan from anyone as we juggled the bikes around to let people on and off. People were tripping over the bikes, getting their bags caught in the handlebars, which everyone thought was very funny. Perhaps all those years of communism has given the people a capacity to suffer with good humour.


Da di da, dida, dida (for those Archers fans ...)
If you are on the edge of your seat for the latest news on Nordic haystacks - there were none in Russia but much to our delight they reappeared in Finland. Sadly we can't upload a picture but they are like miniature sugar loafs built up round a central stake. We left a rather disconcerted Finnish farmer with a strange impression of mad English people when we came across our first field and screeched to a halt and got the camera out.

Ted thinks Finnish towns were like Pleasantville - I got the distinct impression at times we were in the Truman Show and that we would be turned back at the city limits.

We were extremely lucky with the weather - beautiful clear skies and warm sunshine. However rain returned yesterday on the way over to Sweden. The morning newspaper here had headline news about the "Skyfallen" in England. That sounds a bit turky lurky but there were pictures of Tewkesbury under feet of water. The ferry trip was brilliant. 11 hours through the Aland island and the Swedish archipelago - quite exciting as we had a grandstand view from seats in the caff right at the front of the boat. The channel at times was incredibly narrow and the ferry only just fitted between the channel marker buoys - woe betide any little yacht that wasn't keeping a good look out behind them (and there were several). If you should ever want to got to Stockholm, and are not in a hurry, go to Turku and get the boat over. It only cost us 51 Euros and that included the bikes. It was a great day out.

Ted has just bought me a Guardian so I'm off for a read.

Finland - what a fantastic place

Before we start we are in Lahti about 100 km north of Helsinki.
It is really great to be in a place where everything works all the people are nice. A preconception is that Finns are withdrawn and gloomy. Maybe this type are all out of the country right now. we are heading west towards Turku to cross to Sweden. Still lots of headwinds. yesterday and today was the first time that my knees have ached at the end of the day.

To continue about St Petersburg. Would I recommend anyone to go there - definitely yes. I think I sounded a bit gloomy about our experiences yesterday. We did enjoy being there and it did grow on us. Our flat was only a couple of minutes from the Hermitage and in spite of the dire prognostications in the guide book we got in to the museum without having to queue for more than a few minutes. It is an amazing building but being philistines we ignored the galleries of European art and concentrated on the Russian stuff. We did come across two Breughels that seemed to have been stuffed into a corridor but mainly we were admiring the ostentation of the building. The Romanovs seemed to have the Windsor gene for dressing up in ridiculous uniforms and decking themselves in bling. We preferred the Russian Museum but were disappointed that there were not more Soviet pictures of the 9th cadre tractor factory.

Probably the main problem was that the language (our lack of it ) was quite isolating. On the way to the border we bumped into a lovely Italian couple on a motorbike who were parked on the hardshoulder. They greeted us like long lost friends - they were so desperate to talk to some one. They spoke a lot less Russian than we did and did not have a very nice time. Even in a big fat motorbike they found the roads very dangerous. In fact one of the first things we noticed when we crossed the border was the sudden appearance of motor bikes - something we just didn't see in Russia at all. The italians were making their way to the North Cape.

Apart from whatever St petersburg does, the two most apparent industries are tourism and weddings. Outside any attraction were stacks of tour groups ( mainly Russian) waiting to follow the umbrella waving guide. Many more than you see in London. However the wedding industry was vast. Wherever we went there were wedding parties stacked up waiting to be snapped at the appropriate scenic spot. At one place on a wet Wednesday afternoon we counted six stretch limos parked up and six bridal groups all releasing the standard pair of doves.

We went to Petrodvets, one of the Romanovs waterside palaces. I am amazed that they weren't taken out and shot earlier: it was outrageous.

Finland what a busy place

We escaped from Russia yesterday into Finland. I imagined that it would be full of bumpkins chewing straws, what a mistake. Sarah, who knows better informed me that the Finnish economy is almost entirely industrial and post industrial. the bottom line is the road that I thought would be a quiet country lane was a roaring highway. Mercifully Finnish drivers are very lovely so the only challenge on today's run was a 20km/hr headwind. What do you expect when you start to go west?
never mind all this Sarah wants to talk about St Petersburg and Russia.

If we were culture shocked leaving Russia we were even more shocked when we arrived in St P. I suppose it was our first large city since leaving London but first impressions were not good - noisy, dirty and hard work to do anything. However, we revised our views. It is a huge place - there are so many beautiful buildings that you become used to passing palaces and cathedrals at every step. It was very nice to have an apartment so that we could escape and cook our own food for a change. We were amazed at the security arrangements. The agent took us through the drill of locking the courtyard door (most St Petersburg flats are in a series of buildings all at the same street number and arranged around a courtyard), then the iron door of the building, then the steel enforced door of the flat with at least three huge bolts that fitted into sockets in the reinforced steel doorframe. Here's the picture of the crumbling courtyard in which our flat was located. The stairwell was the sort of place you could imagine a junkie flaked out - and in fact on our last day there was one. Ted had to virtually lift the bike over him as he didn't want to move.
Have to stop now as we are in a public library and it's closing time.

No pics we are in the Hermitage Internet caff- no cameras. So we made it. We will give chapter and verse on St P later when we have had a chance to digest the impact. Our crossing into Russia was uneventful, but visually very impressive. We crossed on foot wheeling our bikes across a bridge over a gorge with matching viking forts on both sides of the border. Paperwork was a doddle. We had planned to stay in Kingisepp ,only 35 km away as we didn't know how long the crossing would take. Surprise, surprise, there were no rooms in any of the hotels in the town. A very obliging receptionist at the the main (bus terminal) hotel telephoned around and found us a room in a petrol service station 20km down the road in the direction, we were going any way, so all the better. The road was quiet and in good condition. The trucks that were backed up on the border were coming through at a rate of about one every 6 mins. so God help the drivers at the back of the 8km queue.

The border crossing was reminiscent of Funeral in Berlin and we felt as if machine guns were being trained on our backs - but instead of heavies in dark cars there was loads of the ubiquitous ladies with bulging carrier bags going in both directions (Citizens of the former CIS can move freely between Estonia and Russia). We wheeled our bikes through the metal detector machine and like everyone else sent off a massive signal that was ignored by all the guards. The difference in economic activity and wealth was immediately obvious, the moment we were in Russia. The road gradually deteriorated and there was no sign of any agriculture (the area is a complete bog which might explain the latter). The motel was a truck stop - our room was nice and clean and had its own bathroom. The walls were pretty thin but the snores of the next door occupant did not keep us awake. We had some fun with the menu in the caff - point and be surprised - but we managed to dredge the word for potatoes into our vocabularly so we were OK. Next morning off into the drizzle. We took a quieter road which started well but got more and more rutted. We were heading for Gatchina - the southern suburb of St P and also the site of an enormous palace. The route was pretty dismal - endless birch forest and the largest angelica plants - big as triffids. We had our usual endless wandering about town when we got to Gatchina trying to locate a hotel that would be able to register our visas. Eventually after asking many people and going backwards and forwards over the same ground we were guided by a man on a bike who took us off into the suburbs and deposited us outside a decaying tower block. Ted went off inside whilst I stayed to look after the bikes. He disappeared for a very long time. It turned out he was closeted with a female member of the Russian athletics team. He eventually emerged somewhat frazzled. Apparently the US/Russian athletics teams were running a joint training session and all the hotels in Gatchina were fully booked - this was established by another receptionist manking loads of phone calls. At that pont we decided to contact the agent through which we had booked our appartment in St P to see if she could fix us up with accommodation in the City. Larissa came up trumps - 2 different flats for the 2 nights we needed before our original booking became available.

Just a quick one on russian roads. The surface is as if there were two layers, the top one about an inch and a half thick. The top layer is absent for about 50% in gaps about 12 inches in diameter. Don't swerve to slalom past the pot holes as the driver behind will wipe you out. Russian drivers pass with a few inches to spare ; they only avoid things that might damage their cars. Often it is better to cycle on the gravel verge. We'll be getting the train for the first 100 km out of ST P on our way to Finland!

The train journey from Gatchina to St P was interesting. The suburban trains are completely different to the intercity ones. The carriages are almost level with the platform and we had the usual helpful person to give us a hand - something that fills me with dread as my bike is bristling with oil. The carriages are also incredibly wide - double the width of a Metropolitan line carriage. We became the object of many dropped jaws as we stood at the end of the carriage reserved for luggage - very convenient for bikes - in our plumage and helmets. A succession of accordion players, magicians and travelling salesmen passed through the carriage to provide additional entertainment.

St Petersburg not bust

No pics we are in the Hermitage Internet caff- no cameras.
So we made it. We will give chapter and verse on St P later when we have had a chance to digest the impact.
Our crossing into Russia was uneventful, but visually very impressive. We crossed on foot wheeling our bikes across a bridge over a gorge with matching viking forts on both sides of the border. Paperwork was a doddle.
We had planned to stay in Kingisepp ,only 35 km away as we didn't know how long the crossing would take. Surprise, surprise, there were no rooms in any of the hotels in the town. A very obliging receptionist at the the main (bus terminal) hotel telephoned around and found us a room in a petrol service station 20km down the road in the direction, we were going any way, so all the better. The road was quiet and in good condition. The trucks that were backed up on the border were coming through at a rate of about one every 6 mins. so God help the drivers at the back of the 8km queue.

The border crossing was reminiscent of Funeral in Berlin and we felt as if machine guns were being trained on our backs - but instead of heavies in dark cars there was loads of the ubiquitous ladies with bulging carrier bags going in both directions (Citizens of the former CIS can move freely between Estonia and Russia). We wheeled our bikes through the metal detector machine and like everyone else sent off a massive signal that was ignored by all the guards. The difference in economic activity and wealth was immediately obvious, the moment we were in Russia. The road gradually deteriorated and there was no sign of any agriculture (the area is a complete bog which might explain the latter). The motel was a truck stop - our room was nice and clean and had its own bathroom. The walls were pretty thin but the snores of the next door occupant did not keep us awake. We had some fun with the menu in the caff - point and be surprised - but we managed to dredge the word for potatoes into our vocabularly so we were OK.
Next morning off into the drizzle. We took a quieter road which started well but got more and more rutted. We were heading for Gatchina - the southern suburb of St P and also the site of an enormous palace. The route was pretty dismal - endless birch forest and the largest angelica plants - big as triffids. We had our usual endless wandering about town when we got to Gatchina trying to locate a hotel that would be able to register our visas. Eventually after asking many people and going backwards and forwards over the same ground we were guided by a man on a bike who took us off into the suburbs and deposited us outside a decaying tower block. Ted went off inside whilst I stayed to look after the bikes. He disappeared for a very long time. It turned out he was closeted with a female member of the Russian athletics team. He eventually emerged somewhat frazzled. Apparently the US/Russian athletics teams were running a joint training session and all the hotels in Gatchina were fully booked - this was established by another receptionist manking loads of phone calls. At that pont we decided to contact the agent through which we had booked our appartment in St P to see if she could fix us up with accommodation in the City. Larissa came up trumps - 2 different flats for the 2 nights we needed before our original booking became available.

Just a quick one on russian roads. The surface is as if there were two layers, the top one about an inch and a half thick. The top layer is absent for about 50% in gaps about 12 inches in diameter. Don't swerve to slalom past the pot holes as the driver behind will wipe you out. Russian drivers pass with a few inches to spare ; they only avoid things that might damage their cars. Often it is better to cycle on the gravel verge. We'll be getting the train for the first 100 km out of ST P on our way to Finland!

The train journey from Gatchina to St P was interesting. The suburban trains are completely different to the intercity ones. The carriages are almost level with the platform and we had the usual helpful person to give us a hand - something that fills me with dread as my bike is bristling with oil. The carriages are also incredibly wide - double the width of a Metropolitan line carriage. We became the object of many dropped jaws as we stood at the end of the carriage reserved for luggage - very convenient for bikes - in our plumage and helmets. A succession of accordion players, magicians and travelling salesmen passed through the carriage to provide additional entertainment.

1 km to the Russian Border

We have reached Narva the Last city in the EU and are staying in a hotel less than 1km from the border. Tomorrow we cross back into the world of Visas, migration forms and finding some hotel that will register the migration form each night, still that's what we came here for. Crossing the border might be fun. The queue for trucks started 8km outside the town and the border is 1km on the other side.





It's not always sunny. Here's a picture of Sarah in her wet weather kit, note the sexy neoprene booties









We've had a really nice time in Estonia. Attractions include excellent cakes, proper cups of tea to go with the cakes, good roads, good drivers, cafes with tables outside and menus we can read and of course cakes.


We spent a few days resting in Tartu and went to Tallinn on the train. Both really interesting but the little villages along Lake Peipsi were the best. You can see from the map that we rode along the side of it for about 50 km - you can't see the other side which is in Russia. The villages are inhabited by Russian Old Believers. Back in the 17thC the top beard in the orthodox church decided to change some of the rules. The Old Believers weren't having any of it so were persecuted and settled by Lake Peipsi. It seems they were still persecuted and the Soviets repressed them too. In spite of all that they survived and live in beautiful wooden houses. They fish and smoke the fish. We bought what we thought was their product in the supermarket only to discover that it was made in China. Along the way we overtook 2 runners from Belgium. They hadn't run all the way from Brussels - only Tallinn a mere 175 kms!

Some towns have no restaurants so we have developed the 'room picnic' to a fine art. Here is a picture of the gorgeous collection of E numbers we ate our way through last night.

We keep saying this, but I think we will quiet for three or four days as we don't expect much in the way of internet caffs until we get to St Petersburg which, as you can see from this picture is now not too far. We visited Sillamae on the sign which was a top secret location for the extraction of Uranium from oil shale. Stalin had the town built from scratch in 1949 and laid it out in a Soviet version of a 19th C Baltic town complete with pastel stucco and a recorded Big Ben type chime on the town hall clock.

Another vowel please Carol

As we get closer and closer to Finland the language becomes more and more impenetrable - we now don't even recognise the word for beer. Luckily most people we come into contact with now can speak excellent English so we aren't going thirsty. One of our blog readers kindly said it was more exciting than the Archers - probably he was being ironic but for all our fans of the everyday story of country folk we have exciting news about the evolution of the Baltic haystack. Wheras in Poland the hay was collected into little heaps the stacks have become more elaborate as we've gone north. Latvia had stacks with a hole in the middle and now Estonia has gone one better and they look like little cottages. We met a lovely Frenchman called Pierre. Guess where? In a bus shelter. He had been following a route much like ours but was heading off to Finland. He hadn't noticed the haystacks but had an interesting series of photos of strange towers which we hadn't seen at all. We had a jolly lunch together in the bus shelter and met him again by accident in Tartu where we are staying now.

Here's a picture of the lunch.

For students of economics or sociology, we were amazed by the step change when we crossed from Latvia into Estonia, which we did on the quietest border crossing I have ever seen. In about half an hour only three vehicles passed us in any direction. It's a cliche but it was like passing into Switzerland. Beautifully kept farms wide and empty roads and drivers with great manners and patience. We can now pass parked cars without think our time might be coming. We are staying in a Soviet era hotel which is very calm quiet and comfortable. As we write our bikes are parked, next to the piano in what we think might be a ballroom. It seems that the swankier the hotel the more accommodating the staff are about our bikes.

We are Tartu which is Estonia's University town and is well worth a visit. We are staying here for a couple of days; tomorrow we are going to Tallinn on the train for the day. We are currently puzzling about how to get to St Petersburg. It's only one day's ride from the Estonian border and we have spent some of this morning trying to see if there is nice tourist detour we can make. It's not looking to good, so we think we will make the one day dash to the southern suburbs and take the train the last 20 km

For our Archers fans here's a picture of Estonian haystacks.














And finally a glamour shot

Who would have thought we would find an Internet caff here

We are now in Aluksne in the northwestern corner of Latvia. Tomorrow we will cross into Estonia, Inshallah.
You can see from the map that our route is a bit zigzagging. We are aiming to enter Russia at its western border with Estonia. We have to find a route which is not too busy and has a sealed surface and the potential of a hotel every 90 km or so. Anyway there is no rush; our flat in St Petersburg is booked from 12 July and we are very close. Today for the first time where we are are and St Petersburg are on the same page of the map we are using. This installment is going to be more boring than usual. We have found a hotel every night, not much rain no interactions with visa hungry border guards. just cycling along roads like this. This is actually quite an important picture for us. It was at our 2000 km mark. It is at a bus shelter which are our favourite venues for meals and hiding from the rain. Amazingly, just after I took this picture a vision in high heeled ankle strap silver sandals, wearing a very short tight black skirt appeared from nowhere. She ignored my greeting. The nearest "village" was 10 km away.

We enjoyed our stop in Vilnius. We stayed in a really nice hotel with a convenient striptease club in the basement. Fortunately one of the best things we have brought with us is a set of wax earplugs that even the most persistent base line does not penetrate. Vilnius was well provided with bicycle shops and even had neoprene booties so we will never have wet feet again - in fact they are already working as it has not rained since.

We did not plan to visit Vilnius but were really glad we went there. As a consequence of our immaculate planning we arrived on the Midsummer holiday and all the museums etc were closed - just as they were in Gdansk - however Ted will not escape museums in St Petersburg




Finding somewhere to stay is part of the fun. Hereš the hotel we stayed at last night. An old country house 4 km down a dirt road that has recently been converted from an orphanage. A beautiful house furnished with local antiques. If you look carefully you can see my yellow shirt hanging up to dry in the top right window.




In complete contrast but just as nice was this place we stayed in Lithuania - the guest house was on the top floor over the DIY shop- they kindly let us bring the bikes inside - although transporting them up 2 flights of stairs was a bit of a hike. We made our own supper rather than go out - there was a good kitchen. The other residents were a bunch of blokes - all of whom must have been provided with a weeks supply of garlic sausages by their wives or girlfriends as the fridge was packed with them.






Unless you really, really have to, don't ever ever go to Daugavpils!


We plan to cross into Estonia tomorrow and will make our way to Tartu on Tuesday, where we spend a few days. Sarah has kept her word and hasn't gone on about Latvian drivers. Their special skill is just missing us.

Well that was interesting

We made it out of Belarus on the train this morning. Before we start we have never met a bunch of more friendly and helpful people. Can do must be the national motto . But... Belarus outside the capital is not geared up for travellers let alone tourists, let alone bicycle tourists. The hotel we spent the night in yesterday was a separate entry to a few floors of a block of flats, managed by what appeared to be the local police station. The sign saying it was a hotel was about as big as a doctors brass plate round the back door. There were no restaurants.

Here is a picture of our Camp

However two days before we had a fantastic time on the bikes. Superb roads, no traffic and beautiful countryside. Lots of lovely interactions with locals who couldn't have been more helpful. Pity about all those yellow signs (the only ones we ever saw in English) saying Border Zone do not enter without permissions. Ted to Sarah " We haven't got permissions" Sarah to Ted "Who cares press on" I didn't like it much and we cycled like the clappers.

Ted told me later that the Foreign Office website says the most common reason for Brits being arrested in Belarus is for infringing the border regulations.
Our time in Belarus gave us the best and the worst days of the trip so far. The best day was when we left Grodno - full of apprehension that the roads would be full of potholes and maniac truck drivers. Instead it was blissful and sunny. All the trucks disappeared to Lithuania and the road was virually empty. We did 120 Km and decided to camp - there was no hotel in any case. We pulled off the road near a village and asked various people if it was OK to put up our tent - we kept getting directed down into the village itself and finally led towards the largest house that backed onto a series of beautiful lakes. We were given the OK to put up our tent and soon were visited by a chap who spoke some English and was the nephew of the owner of the house. Next thing we were invited in to use the loo - by the time I got out of the loo Ted was already ensconced at the dining table drinking vodka. We were plied with cold cuts - it was a birthday celebration of 2 of the men of the family. As the evening progressed they got out the accordion and started singing Polish folksongs ( most of this part of Belarus is populated by Poles).
The next day was probably the worst we have experienced. It started to rain and we kept seeing more of those pesky yellow signs. By 17.00 we were soaked, cold and were trying to find a hotel in a town that seemed to be under a foot of water. We finally located the hotel only to be told it was in the military border zone and we couldn't stay. We had to leave the town. The next hotel was 35 KM further on and we had already done over 100 km. It was still pouring. Brainwave - let's get a big taxi. The elderly lady receptionist in the hotel leapt into action and a taxi arrived - too small for us and the bikes but a people carrier was summoned and we were quoted 20 euro for the ride - soounded like a bargain and we would have paid almost anything at this point - the lady in the hotel was so pleased she kept kissing Ted. Finally we were deposited at the hotel Ted described above - we would never have found it on our own.

It appears that it is not possible to stay in any hotel in Belarus which is less than 50km from any border. Given the uncertainty concerning crossing the border on a Bike we put our bikes on a train this morning and are now in Vilnius in Lithuania. Paradise. We have just had the first hot meal in four days. Shops look like shops. Hotels have big signs up so you can see what it is.

The train journey was fraught with stress. We arrived at the station at 08.00 having sussed it out the day before. Unfortunately the ticketing computer was down. I was waiting outside keeping an eye on the bikes but I could hear a raised voices coming through the window and some woman screeching. I feared for Teddy. After some time I went in to see what was happening - the ticket hall was packed with anxious people wanting to catch the same train we did but the tickets were having to be allocated by hand and seat numbers called off on the telephone - hence the shrieking. Ted finally emerged ashen faced - with tickets - he hadn't dared ask for bicycle tickets. It was even more difficult to get the bikes in this train - higher off the platform and very narrow doors. There was no luggage van so we had to wheel them down a corridor that was several centimeters narrower than our handlebars. As is normal in Belarus the entire occupants of the carriage rose to assist us. The bikes were hoisted on to couchettes taking up 3 seats each. The train was mainly occupied by large ladies off across the border for a spot of smuggling. At the stop before the border there was a duty free facility. The ladies got on with capacious bags that clinked. Once on they distributed the vodka and cigarettes to other ladies to get through Lithuanian customs. Once the customs officer had walked down the train the goodies were collected up again. I think they were also taking over illicit sausages and other foodstuffs secreted about their persons but it was difficult to tell.

Here's a typical breakfast stop. You need to click on the picture to get the benefit. (this is true of all the pics on the blog)

And here's a picture of our anonymous hotel

Here's sarah at Hitlers blown up bunker

And here's a picture of Ted with his girlfriend in the hotel we couldn'd stay in. You can see how wet we were.

Welcome to Belarus

No Photos again it's a bit tricky. This town is transliterated variously Grodno, Hrodno, Grodna etc.

Despite our fears the entry process into Belarus was pretty good. Apart from having to lug our fully laden bikes up four feet to get them on the train. We had to do this four times as we went on two trains, and on each train we first of all put them at the wrong end of the train.

(Sarah) When we finally clanked across the border - marked by a flimsy stretch of barbed wire the train halted and a large number of soldiers/officials got on and turfed us out of the luggage van. We began to feel a little apprehensive - but it turned out they needed to be at the back of the train so they could stick mirrors in the windows to watch the track. In fact the officials turned out to be charming. Ted although he is very numerate is completely incapable of filling in forms and transposes numbers. After 2 attempts at the immigration form the long suffering official would probably have written it out himself except I had borrowed his pen. Once in the terminal building at Grodna we lined up with a clack of ladies who seemed to have bought the entire stock of Poland's Pampers. Again the customs officials were lovely - laughing over the fact we were importing our means of transport. We asked them where our hotel was which involved the entire work force and Ted was whisked away to talk to a colleague on the phone. Perhaps in case I imagined that he had been taken away to have his toe nails removed, a nice man earnestly reassured me he was only talking on the phone. Of course this all took ages, so by the time we emerged from the station we were caught up in the mother of all rain storms. The only way of negotiating the puddles on the pavements was to ride our bikes and hope we didn't disappear down a huge pothole. However, miraculously Ted navigated our way to the "city centre" Hotel Tourist which in fact was 4 Km out. We had little confidence that our telephone booking undertaken in Russian would exist but we were ushered into the lobby - soaking bikes and all.

Despite all this the day was long and stressful. Starting with a series of phone calls to hotels in Grodno. This was the first time we had tried to book ahead and I am glad we did as the first four of the five hotels in town claimed to have no rooms. Looking for room on spec in the pouring rain would have been impossible and we probably would have got back on the train to Poland. I spent the first train journey in the luggage van with a group of people who were in training for the Park bench special brew drinking team, complete with the compulsory drunken lecherous couple. Sarah wasn't there because the was only one seat left.

I was anxiously watching developments through the glass door. All I could see was the male half of the lecherous couple who sprang up at each station and was then catapulted across the carriage as the train jerked to a halt. Several times he seemed to be about to leave the train only to reappear before I could claim his seat.

You don't want to underestimate the problems of finding your way around in a Russian speaking town. The alphabet is pretty scary and often the signs are in some fancy calligraphy as well.

This all sounds a bit grim - but Grodno is not the concrete jungle we thought it would be - the people have been really helpful and speak more English than in Poland. The town is quite small - the size of Wolverhampton and most of the buildings are low rise - built around 1900 in stucco painted pastel colours - I guess it looks a bit like a sanitised version of Havana. We are also sitting in the swankiest Internet caff so far. As it is run by the national PTT it is more Internet and not so much caff but a huge number of stations and fast connections.

You will see from the map that there is now quite a lot of blank space. This probably also means that we may be quiet for a bit.

Another Day off

We have arrived in the Polish lake District and are having another day off. The weather has been becoming hotter and hotter with thunderstorms every evening. We are now very good at predicting where the next bus stop is, as this is where we stop to get waterproofed up. generally putting on the gear makes the rain stop. Last night there was a real humdinger of a storm but we were well tucked up in our hotel/bunker before it started. We are now hovering around the border with Belarus wondering how to get across. Apparently you can't cross the border on a bicycle so we think we will go down to Bialystok and get the train across. Apparently you can't take bikes on the trains that cross the border.We'll see.

In fact we were staying in the former officers quarters on the site of Hitler's bunker - the Wolf's Lair. He and his entourage spent the last 3 years of the war cowering in this site under a screen of real trees and artificial vegetation that they changed with the seasons. My expectations of the bunker was that it would be a moderately small hole in the ground. In fact the site is huge and the bunkers are massive pyramidal structures with the top truncated. They were constructed of concrete reinforced with steel bars. When the time came to evacuate the site they were blown up - but not very successfully - some are more or less intact - very creepy. In spite of signs in 4 languages that they were dangerous structures and not to enter we did venture into some of them.

Accommodation and victualling has been a bit hit and miss. One night we stayed in the front room of some old lady's house and a few nights later when checking into some snazzy hotel in Elblag the manager took one look at my passport and was so amazed that a man of my great age was cycling around Poland that he upgraded us a to suite which was about as big as our flat. In Gdansk we ate like kings on the waterfront. Last night at Hitler's bunker we toddled down to the hotel restaurant to find that it had closed at 5pm As the nearest other food was 11 km away and a spectacular thunderstorm was brewing we stayed in our room and consumed the leftover bits and pieces in our packs. The highlight was a complimentary packet of peanuts from the ferry crossing. The good news was that the hotel bar could provide us with piwa the one essential word in Polish - beer.

You may be wondering how we are managing with only one set of bicycling clothes and one set of clothes for the evening. The answer is Teddy does a lot of washing when we get to a hotel. We bought magic shirts from Rohan before we left and however crumpled they are when we extract them from our packs within 3 minutes they are immaculate. Having said that we are now starting to look a bit tatty. My legs are a varied hue of bruises from purple to yellow and I always manage to arrive clarted with oil from the chain. Ted, having been brought up properly, never gets oil on his trousers.

We arrived in Gdansk on Sunday 10 June

Here we are in Gdansk and are having a day off buying snazzy biking clothes for Ted whilst Sarah sits patiently outside the changing rooms. This is a picture we took in Germany riding down this lovely road. if you zoom in by clicking on the picture you can see that the surface is cobbled and it went on for 20 km nice eh?

Ted was very reluctant to wear his tight fitting yellow plumage but the first day he did suddenly we were hailed by every passing racing cyclist - including 2 young girls. After that he decided to buy another cycling shirt and retire the walking shirt he had been using that inflated in the wind like a Michelin man. When he's feeling really brave he'll put on Daniel's even more colourful shirt on. It is now pretty hot and sunny but luckily we have been going along roads through forests so we are keeping reasonably cool and unburnt.

Gdansk is an amazing place. My expectation was that it would be a grim derelict shipbuilding town but the old town is a wonderful collection of 17thC and 18thC houses and warehouses and even older churches. It also has many nice places to eat gargantuan meals. Unlike most of the places we have stayed in so far cafes and restaurants stay open late into the evening. We were getting very disappointed to arrive in a town at about 18.00 to find it buzzing with activity - loads of shops and cafes open, people eating ices and having beers - only to find an hour later after we'd had our showers and settled into a hotel that everywhere had closed down.

To return to the question of roadkill that has been preoccupying me as I cycle along. It seems that Poland does have some wildlife - at least several dead pine martins, cats, dogs and hedgehogs. The problem is that I have to keep my eyes firmly on the road in front of me at all times, firstly to avoid running into the back of Ted - something I've done twice - with me ending up spread over the road (albeit at very low speed) - and also to avoid running into the cavernous Polish potholes or falling off the cliff of tarmac at the edge of the road.

We are riding about 85 to 95 km a day but we always set off to do about 80. I think my original distance calculations might have been a bit awry. So we find ourselves behind schedule on a location but ahead on distance run. We are now one third of the way to Saint Petersburg. I am probably carrying about 10kg of extra fat but Sarah has none so we need to stop every two hours or so to refuel. Along the Polish coast this was a bit tricky as it was a bit difficult to tell the difference between a bar and a cafe. They all had lots of umbrella but no signs. We finally discovered that pushchairs were a good sign that food and coffee were available. I never thought I would hear Sarah saying "Stop here this looks good there are lots of children"

You might want to know what our duties are;

Ted

Navigation

Communication

Accommodation

Washing clothes

Sarah

Roadkill analysis and commentary

Victualling (she is now fully familiar with the standard layout of Netto supermarkets

Forgiving Ted for not knowing where he is.

Spotting things like Internet cafes and potential hotels

Drying clothes

Medical matters which so far have mainly involved making sure Ted puts on his sunscreen.

Stop press our behinds are now in quite good condition!

We have arrived in Poland and as usual we found the Internet Cafe with only half an hour to closing. I've updated the map so you can see where we are. IF the map link doesn't work for you we are now in Kolobrzeg which is on the Baltic coast of Poland. We got diverted from our route by the G8 jamboree at Heiligodam sp?, which was very annoying. We have had great weather but headwinds all the time. today we just missed a thunderstorm. You can see that our route has been along the coast, which was our plan. However we are getting a bit bored with this so we are setting off inland. Our next big stop will be Gdansk wher we will spend two days and will be able to give a bigger update then. Thanks to all the people who have been sending us encouraging emails.

Finding @ on a German computer

Finding @ on a German computer is the biggest challenge we have had to face so far. It is also impossible (for me) to drive the blog posting process in any language other than German. God help us when we get to Poland. Most of the facts you might want are on the map link to the right of the page.
Today we are having a day off cycling and are trailing around Lübeck looking at churches. Demark was good for cycling but Germany is fantastic with most roads having high grade cycle tracks along the side. We are often tempted to take diversions off into the wilds but this often ends in tears.
By the way to a man who weighs 90 kg and is riding 40 kg of bike denmark and Germany are very hilly.
From now on I will write in black and Sarah will write in Blue
Some strange things I have learned
- there is no road kill in Denmark or Germany - where are all the hedgehogs, rabbits, foxes and badgers?
- there is also absolutely no litter along the roads or anywhere
- so much for a healthy lifestyle - everyone smokes like chimneys and all the restaurants and pubs and this internet caff are reeking - and food is very salty.
- on the otherhand loads of people cycle, including loads of people even older than us.
- Ted tells me that everday each leg pumps up and down 80,000 times - no wonder I've got a sore arse

We are staying in Malente in a house that was used by a Major in the British army as his HQ just after the war. In spite of this the owner insisted on hauling down the Landesflag and raising the union flag when we checked in.

Did we forget to tell you that we are enjoying ourselves. Tomorrow we are off into the former GDR, where things might get challenging.

If you want to see our weather forecast click this
http://www.bbc.co.uk/weather/5day.shtml?world=4846

This is Sarah. Whilst we were lining up at the ferry in Harwich another cyclist pitched up in the queue - nice guy called Pete - it turned out he was off to Australia - which made our whites look grey. Denmark was lovely - long straight roads - usually with a cycle track - disappearing into the mist - or spray - we were drowned rats yesterday and the hotel room was festooned with clothes drying out. Today nice and sunny. Tomorrow off to Lubeck - bottom permitting.

This is going to be a bit rushed as we have only a lttle time and this keyboard is a bit funny.
We are in Eckenforde which is about 10 miles west of Kiel.
On Sunday 27 May Daniel drove us down to Harwich in the pouring rain. We arrived in Esbjerg on Monday 28. We then cycled to Ribe Denmark's version of Chipping Camden.
Next day we cycled to Flensburg our first town in Germany. It rained all day. It wasn't so bad.
Today we got as far as Eckenforde; we planned to go to Kiel, but got lost trying to follow more interesting byways. We will stick to the roads from now on

We haven't gone yet, but if you're looking for Sarah Hudson and Ted Reilly's bicycle blog you are at the right place.