Travel Logs

The Off Coast Obstacle Course

Even though my week along the Black Sea coast was nothing short of amazing, it was time to shake things up. However, getting off the coast prooved to be a bit more complicated than expected.

As I had taken a right, onto a road leading me inland and up the mountains I was stopped by car after car, with people telling me I was going the wrong way. Their intentions were all good of course, and this was just a continuation of the overwhelming Turkish hospitality and willingness to help out.

However, this hospitality can sometimes become very close to unbearable. Even in the weirdest situations assistance will come, whether you want it or not – and turning down these helping hands isn’t always all that easy.

When for the 5th time I found myself arguing with a car full of strangers wether or not I should turn around, I caught myself thinking ‘WHY can’t just people be like in Sweden? Stay to themselves and simply not give a damn about others?’

Very soon though, I would take this silent wish back, a thousand times over.

The road up the mountains soon became small, graveled and very, very empty. Apart from the occational truck driver passing by, leaving a big cloud of dust for me to pedal through, I was alone. With the dogs. By now I’ve gotten pretty used to aggressive and angry dogs, and on this particular road they were many. However, staying on the lookout and fending them off kept me busy and entertained enough to not think so much about the steep climb I was on. I was happy.

Then – suddenly and from nowhere – a big mob (or perhaps army is a better word) of something like 10 huge and absolutely insane dogs appeared. Coming up from both sides of the road they quickly had me surrounded and scared shitless. I was totally caught off guard and as they quickly closed the distance between us, you could tell. They knew they had me.

It took a couple of seconds for me to get my mind to grip the situation. Shouting like a mad woman, I was kicking gravel towards this one dog going for my left back pannier. All while trying to pick up some stones without letting any of the others go for my hand and arm.

They were everywhere, and I felt like I had been thrown right into the middle of the old Disney movie The Lion King. You know when Simba and Nala are just about to be ripped to shreds by hyenas?

Still shouting, kicking and waving I tried to keep the distance as best I could. But I just had a really bad gut feeling about the whole situation. I was not in control.

‘I did get that Rabies vaccine, right?’

Then, in the middle of the loud, dirty chaos that I still clearly didn’t have control over – it came to save me. The Turkish helping hand. Or Mufasa. Depending on if you want to continue the Lion King reference or not.

Just as the dogs had appeared from nowhere – so did Ahmet. With one hand on the horn, Turkish music bursting through the speakers and the roaring engine of his tractor he made quite an appearance, leaving both me and the dogs startled.

Before I think neither of us had really understood what this Turkish carneval on four wheels was about, Ahmed had gotten out to show exactly why he was there. With the authority of Cesar Milan himself, he gave the mob of dogs the yelling of a lifetime, and in no time they all left, looking ashamed they had even come in the first place.

This is where I quickly and silently appologized to the whole Turkish population for ever thinking they were being too much. Before my heartbeat had even gotten down to its normal pace, I was sitting in Ahmet’s home – having dinner with him and his wife Hatice. It’s funny how things work sometimes.

The dog rescue had turned into dinner. And dinner soon turned into a full night of laughs and friends – and in time also a comfy bed. None of them spoke a word of English, but we still managed to have the best of times together.

The next morning the rain was pouring down. In that stubborn way that immediately let’s you know that it has absolutely no plan to stop. I think the whole house was kind of happy about this though – Ahmet & Hatice was enjoying having a foreign guest, and I desperately needed rest. I don’t even think we ever talked about it, that I would be staying an extra day was a given.

I really enjoyed this homestay. Everywhere I go have pretty much been welcomed like one of the family. In this house though, it was for real. And being one of the family ment helping out with the work.

This was a family living without any extras. They had a few very skinny cows for milk, and some land where they grew most of their food. And to make ends meet they had opened a Lokanta (like a small roadside restaurant) in their house, feeding the passing truck drivers. And I got to help out with all of it.

Cleaning, and milking the cows. Cooking for and serving the truck drivers. Helping Ahmet patch up the leaking roof. I wasn’t just a guest they wanted to feel like home. I was home – and it was amazing.

After a long day, when darkness fell and the last Lokanta guests had left. We all sat down to relax for the first time since waking up. These experiences are still the best thing I know with this weird way of travelling. So utterly rewarding and humbling.

People are working so damn hard compared to anyone back home. And still they have so little. Stuff that is. When it comes to joy and fulfillment – I am probably ready to state that the roles are reversed. You don’t need money to laugh, love and dance. That becomes very clear by spending time with people like this.


To support me in my struggle with the Turkish language, Hatice decided it was only right for her to also learn Swedish

The second morning the rain had finally given in. And after a big breakfast I was ready to leave. Ahmet thought it was too soon. In one month he would have me fluent in Turkish – and then I could continue. Haha :)

This was another one of those goodbyes. Still not used to them. After a bunch of hugs and kisses I jumped onto the saddle, and continued my slow climb up the mountain.

A little sad. Very, very happy.

And – on the lookout for dogs.

Fredrika

By |June 18th, 2015|Asia, Travel Logs|
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Up & down, down & up the Black Sea

So. To cycle, or not to cycle along the Black Sea coast? Probably one of the most debated questions among touring cyclists as it comes to pedaling Turkey.

First off there are countless stories to be found about the physically demanding, but visually stunning riding along the coast. A beautiful, calm coastal road winding its way through the dramatic and lush green nature – with a constant panorama view of the powerful Black Sea. People have done it, loved it, and now pretty much won’t shut up about it.

And then there are the naysayers. The ones claiming that going for the coast basically means choosing not to experience ‘the real Turkey’. Which according to them is only to be found inland. These people pretty much describes the coast at a waste of time and calories, crowded with cyclists and local people so used to two-wheeled travellers that they would never look at you twice. Many of course without actually have cycled there themselves.

So. What to do?

I actually didn’t worry too much about making the right choice here. One look at the map and you realise that Turkey is big. I mean, really big. And I have time. Loads of it. So I kind of figured that well, I’m just not gonna make the choice. I’ll head up to check out this well debated coast, see what the fuzz is actually about, and then take it from there.

Are the climbs actually as steep as people make them sound?

Are the views as beautiful?

Is it really some kind of bicycle tourer’s highway up there?

And how bored will the locals be when another fully loaded bike is rolling in to disturb the peace in their village?

I reached the coast with the mindset that this probably wouldn’t be all that much to cheer for, but at least I wanted to have seen it with my own eyes before deciding not to ride there.

‘Probably I’ll get off in a day or two’, I thought to myself.

But I didn’t. In the end I hung around the coast close to a full week before I felt like I was ready to leave.

After this week I can state a few things for sure:

1) Yes. The cycling is hard work. The hills are stupidly steep, and simply. won’t. end.

2) Yes. It’s absolutely gorgeous, even enough to make the climbing worth it.

3) And. I’ve developed a completely irrational fear of cows


I mean – they’re beautiful and all…


But I just have this feeling that they want to sit on me?


C’mon. Right in the middle? Is it too much to ask to share the road?

And what about the crowds of lycra dressed Europeans fighting for the attention of the bored locals? Well. During my week I saw… zero, other cyclists. And even if I wasn’t looked at as a complete alien when I pedaled into the villages, I still recieved a never ending flow of curiosity, smiles and hospitality from people along the way.

Company, çay, food and places to stay was part of the daily routine and I was always taken care of in the best of ways. In short, it was a pretty awesome ride.

How to meet people in Turkey? Sometimes I feel like a better question would be how not to. All it takes is really to get off the bike. You don’t have to look for people. They will find you.


A random stop for lunch…


…would usually get me one, or four new friends happy to let me practice my Turkish with them

And speaking of Turkish. It’s obvious who are the best teachers around, right? Kids. Happy, curious and unembarassed they will let you take your time, and simply don’t care if you fail completely in making yourself understood. They will laugh and play with you anyways.


Securing the next generation of globetrotting bike chicks – Check!

In short, I loved the Black Sea coastline. One thing that I think is true though, is that it’s kind of monotonous. The views are stunning – but in the same way as yesterday. And the day before. It’s sad, but natural, that you don’t really know to appreciate the beauty after some time. And when that moment comes, it’s time to get off.

For me it took just less than a week.

That’s all for now. But keep your eyes open, more on Turkey is coming up shortly.

Fredrika

By |June 17th, 2015|Asia, Travel Logs|
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New beginnings – taking on Asia

After spending a full week being stationary in Istanbul, I was ridiculously excited to get moving again. However, no matter how much I wanted to hit the road, I did so with a lot more hesitance than usual. Just a couple of days earlier, a fellow long distance cyclist had been hit and a killed by a car, just days of riding from Istanbul.

I have no words to describe how tragic and absolutely horrible this is, and having the news fresh in my mind as I was pedaling my way out of Istanbul made things even more nerve-wracking than they would have been anyways.

Thankfully my host Ali gave me some pretty aweome directions which let me go a couple of hours by the seaside before I actually needed to get into traffic at all.

But once I did, I was again reminded of how fast things can go so terrible wrong. On my way out of town I passed not just one, but two scenes of accidents. One which I came to way too early to even want to consider taking out the camera.


Definitely a day of reminders…

Luckily, I made it out of Istanbul without any close calls, and I was so so happy to finally be able to relax and actually enjoy the road. The day couldn’t have ended any better as I hit another jackpot when looking for a place to sleep.

When darkness started to close in I pulled up to this random restaurant by the side of the road. Kind of empty, but it just seemed to have a good energy to it. And it did! Before I had even really gotten to asking if they knew where I could pitch my tent, Hamit the owner had gotten me a seat, pulled out the grill and declared me as his new Swedish little sister. A sister that was in need of food!


Hamit and his cousins also working in the restaurant

After a huge Turkish dinner Hamit’s 16-year-old daughter came to pick me up, and we went to hang out in their home as Hamit finished off work. This was just a few days after Sweden had won the Eurovision Song Contest so I couldn’t have had better timing in order to be cool in front of her and her friends. Having the same nationality as that gorgeous Swedish singer was more than enough for them – and I was instantly part of the gang.


Måns played on repeat through the whole night

This was one of the funniest nights in a long time, as these guys made me feel sooooo… old! Haha. I usually consider myself being young. But just the thought of the unabashed selfies taken during this night makes me blush, and I was totally the granny in the group.

After a good nights sleep, a big breakfast, an even bigger lunch and a bunch of cays, I was ready to hit the road again.

I was now aiming for the Black Sea coast. Probably the most popular destination for long distance cyclists touring in Turkey. Usually the place is described as ‘hard work – but worth it’, and I definitely wouldn’t want to leave without seeing it for myself.

By now Turkey had already started to get really hot. So I was happy to get a day of rain and ‘cold’ weather as I was making my way to the sea.

Cycling in rain doesn’t bother me. But setting up camp kind of does. Luckily though – I didn’t have to worry about this. Because now I had family in Turkey, and Hamit just wouldn’t accept that his little sister would sleep outside. In rain?! No way.

‘Sister! Is raining! Tonight, you sleep, hotel. OK? Sister. OK?!’

If he had not given me way to much already, Hamit set me up with a hotel room for the night. I mean. What? Turkish hospitality – sure – but things are getting kind of crazy.

After showering like a mad person, and having the comfiest nights sleep in ages, I got in the saddle and rode the last kilometers to the coast. Super excited to see if it would live up to the hype or not.

As I’m writing this I’ve already gotten off it – so I kind of know it did. But I’ll tell you more about that next time.

Until then,

Fredrika

By |June 8th, 2015|Asia, Travel Logs|
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Istanbul!

Riding a bicycle into Istanbul is definitely an interesting (and in many ways very stupid) way to spend your day. Even though I had taken a one day detour to get to approach the city from the “calm” north, traffic was… intense. To put it nicely. By now I’ve been riding in to quite a few big cities in Europe, but Istanbul makes them all seem like small villages in comparison.

I only had a 40 km ride to do, but still it was more exhausting than going three times the distance or have a full day of riding somewhere in the mountains. However, everything went great, and in late afternoon I found my Warm Showers host Ali’s place and could finally relax. And relax I did. Actually I ended up relaxing for a full week.


My host Ali. A professional model train repair man…


…who proved to not only repair trains as he fixed every little piece of my broken gear

There are one million things to do and see in Istanbul. And any other time I would probably be running back and forth between monuments and bazaars to try to check off as many of them as I could. But this time I pretty much spent the week trying to do as little as possible. Apart from sleeping in every morning, eating crazy amounts of Turkish food and cuddling with Ali’s dog Dino that is. And I think I needed that.


No cleats, and a passed out dog. Just the right level of intensity for a week off the saddle.


Just some 10 K’s from the loadness, hussle and busy streets of central Istanbul

Well, of course. I did do some tourist stuff. And I did start working on the paperwork for my visas. And I did (well, mostly Ali) give my bike a well needed overhaul to get it ready for Asia.

Some pics from the week:


On my second day in Istanbul the Turks were celebrating one of their big national holidays


Ali and I decided to make it a little more Swedish…


…and snuck in a couple of new colors in the big ocean of Turkish flags

I got short but sweet visit from Swedish Kerstin and Jörgen – representatives from The Bike Ramble’s sponsors SDC. Together we went in full out tourist mode for one day.

And maybe most impornant of all. The bike. It had been taken care of me for more than two months without complaining. For sure it had made itself worthy of the spa treatment of a lifetime.

No matter how nice it felt to not think about cycling for a while, I got restless a lot quicker than I thought. After just a few days I was already feeling eager to get going, and after a full week I could almost feel my legs pedaling in my sleep. I’ve gotten so used to the constant movement of life on the road, and in some way I’m starting to feel like I not just want, but actually need it.

After being room mates for a full week, it was sad saying goodbye to Ali. I think we both had gotten used to having each other around, so leaving felt kind of weird. At the same time my mind and body was so damn eager to hit the road again. I have a feeling that these mixed emotions of sadness for leaving and excitement to keep going will accompany me for this whole experience.

So. Deep breath. 1.. 2.. 3!

And I was off. Waving to Ali in the rear mirror as I was slowly taking my first pedal strokes on big leg number two.

Warm up is over, and the real adventure has now officially begun.

I’m cycling Asia!

By |May 31st, 2015|Europe, Travel Logs|
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Entering Turkey

And then – 68 days after I started this trip back in Sweden, I reached Turkey. Entering the country I didn’t need a visa, but this border crossing was something very different from any of the others I’d passed to get there. More stern faces. More guns. More people who wanted to see my passport. And even one who decided to scan through my bags.

It all took quite a lot of time, and when I finally got to enter, my ears were ringing like crazy after standing in the middle of all the car and truck drivers honking out their frustrations for waiting in line to the passport checkpoints.

When I entered it was already afternoon, and my plan was to cycle as far as I could from the border before finding a place to spend my first night on Turkish grounds. The mainroad going from the border was huge and very busy, but lucky for me I was given a three meter wide shoulder so I wasn’t too bothered by the traffic.

The road was in surprisingly good condition and I could cover quite a lot of distance without that much effort. The landscape was pretty hilly and gave me nice views, so apart from speedy cars and loud trucks I had some pretty nice hours of cycling before stopping for the day.

When without good options for wild camping, a pretty much foolproof way of getting a safe and nice place to sleep is to ask the closest farmer for permission to camp on his grounds. As long as the communication works out, this is basically never a problem, and sometimes you’re even lucky enough to get more than a patch of grass.

This was one of those nights and farmer Engin let me in like it was the most natural thing in the world. After showing me his 40 cows and trying to teach me the names of his nine dogs, he got me my very own room to spend the night. Jackpot!

At home, a room like this probably wouldn’t impress me much, but then and there I genuinely felt like I had everything one could ask for. So what if the place has a weird smell, some dust and a few spiders? I have a roof, a bed and a super nice old man preparing çay downstairs. Life is good.

Before reaching Istanbul I had three days of riding. To get off the mainroad I took some detours on smaller and a lot calmer roads. Riding into Istanbul I knew I would get my fair share of traffic no matter what, so I figured it’d be worth some extra distance to get away from it as long as possible.

I’ve told you a thousand times about all the generous people I’ve been bumbing into ever since I started cycling. However, Turkey very quickly climbed to the top and has by far the most hospitable people of any country I’ve been to. It’s absolutely crazy.

It seems like as soon as I step of my bike, someone is popping up from behind to offer me çay (turkish tea), coffee, bread, icecream or whatever they have to offer. And turning down their gift is simply not an option.


Day 1 and my first ever glass of çay. And a bracelet I was randomly given with it


Day 3 and my …100th? glass of çay

All in all I was pretty much eating and drinking my way to Istanbul. And my last night before I actually entered the city I stayed with a great Turkish family who made it their mission to stuff me with all the traditional Turkish foods and drinks they could think of.

After a never ending breakfast, I was ready.

Ready to finish off my journey through Europe by taking on the dreaded road into Istanbul!

By |May 25th, 2015|Europe, Travel Logs|
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My big fat Greek bicycle trip

Country number twelve of The Bike Ramble was Greece. Yet another place I visited for the first time. I crossed in from Macedonia without having checked the maps all that much, so I didn’t really know what I would come to.

Not all that much, it turned out. Or the opposite, depending on how you look at it. My first day in Greece I passed a couple of tiny villages, but apart from them I was really out in the Greek nothingness. This was an absolutely amazing day as I for one of the first times really got the feeling of being in a truly remote place.


Think this sign was a pretty good indicator that one of the villages I passed through wasn’t all that up to date

With a few shepheards as my only company, I cycled my way up and down rolling hills surrounded by the most stunning views. Every pedal stroke with the greatest sense of freedom and the feeling that ‘This is it. This is exactly why I’m doing this’.

Having to filter my water from streams instead of just stopping at the next gas station, and having unlimited options of dreamlike campspots gave me the best start possible in Greece.

I spent a total of about one week in the country, and I enjoyed myself immensely. The country is absolutely beautiful, and people were way too nice to me. Seems like anywhere I went, people welcomed me with open arms and… food!

Several times when I stopped somewhere – asking to use the toilet or fill my water bottles – I ended up having lunch with the gas station owner or spend the entire afternoon with a Greek family who were out to eat. It’s mindblowing and so heartwarming to see all these people reach out with the only intention of being nice to this unknown foreign girl riding her bicycle.

It’s still a fact that I’m travelling solo. But I’m surely not alone.


I don’t think a salad could possibly get anymore Greek than this one

Slowly I cycled my way East. With great days in the saddle and more amazing camping I felt like I was smiling my way though every single day. Even the couple of rainy ones I had.

Something that came to my mind a bunch of times every single day through Greece was this thing with ‘not appreciating what you have until it’s gone’. We all know it’s true, right?

Apparently it’s also applicable to alphabets. Man, I really haven’t been giving road signs with Latin letters enough credit!

Big stretches of road I had pretty much to myself. Many people think that solo cyclists spend all this time on their own, buried in deep thoughts about life or how to create world peace when they get back. And sure. It’s definitely true that I spend way more time in reflection than I ever do at home. But don’t make the mistake of thinking that this is anywhere near the whole truth.

When I’m alone, I’m letting out my inner dork. And trust me, my inner dork is pretty damn dorky – but she does make me smile. I’m singing (screaming) on the top of my lungs in the downhills when I’m happy. I’m dancing like a fool by the side of the road when I need to cheer myself up. And I’m taking selfies with turtles when the opportunity presents itself.

My guess is that not only touring cyclists, but most people goof around like this when noone is looking. And if not, at least I think everyone should. Having fun is fun! And if you’re having fun by yourself, at least you know that the whole crowd (you) will laugh at any joke you make. Foolproof!

The gallery on my phone is filled with tracks from moments like this.


1. Wait, what’s that? Inner dork waking up.


2. OK. Only one resonable thing to do here.


3. Pull out the camera and hope that I’m as alone as I think.


4. And then of course. Snap a photo pretending to be the most badass cycling spy Greece has ever seen.

My week in Greece ended just as great as it had begun. Though in a very different manner compared to the start. Already a couple of months back I had been invited to Alexandroupolis by blog reader Philippos. With his friends Vladimir and Alex I was treated to a couple of relaxing days of the bike.

My tent was replaced by a comfy bed. The pasta from my stove by ouzo and fresh fish. And the filtered stream water turned into liters of frappe cappuchino. I couldn’t have asked for a better way to end my time in Greece. The day I left, Philippos and Vladimir even joined me to pedal the last stretch before the Turkish border.

I think you can tell this by now. But I really, really love this weird new life I live on the road.

Take care!

Fredrika

By |May 24th, 2015|Europe, Travel Logs|
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My Macedonian mini vacay

What I didn’t mention in my post about Albania is that it at times was pretty hilly. Mountainous even. And my next country – Macedonia – was as well.

Entering into Macedonia ment crossing a pass around 1 000 m. Usually this would take some work, especially considering the fact that heat more and more had started to become an issue during midday. This time though, it didn’t at all.

I was simply way too convinced that what was behind the other side of the mountains would be worth pedaling for. Worrying about tired legs just wasn’t part of it.

My stay in Macedonia was very brief. I only spent a couple of days in the country, and I entered with a clear goal in mind – Lake Orhid. I had heard so many people talk about this place, and I went there knowing that I was really setting myself up for disappointment. My expectations were too high, and I knew it.

However. I was blown away.

I’m not sure if it was just me being in a crazy good mood, or if the lake actually was as gorgeus as I thought it was. But it really doesn’t matter.

With its deep blue water and high snowcapped mountains that seemed to rise straight out from the surface, Lake Orhid offered some absolutely stunning scenery. You know the kind where you can just sit down and watch it for hours, without ever getting bored.

Despite of my short stay, I really appreciated Macedonia, and I’m 100% conviced that I will go back there to see more of it. People were super friendly, and my Swedish flag has never done a better job as a conversation starter than it did there.

It seemed like three quarters of the Macedonian population had a cousin in Malmö, and they were all weirdly eager to practice their Swedish with me.


Some of my language students – paying me in cappuccinos and jokes about Swedish people

What else… Yeah – the camping was great!

So – to sum up my Macedonian experience:

Breathtakingly beautiful and waaay to short.

I can’t wait to go back.

By |May 23rd, 2015|Europe, Travel Logs|
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Riding the Albanian roller coaster

It’s almost been a month now since I crossed into Albania from Montenegro. Since the start of my tour, people had kept telling me that ‘As long as you stay in Norhtern and Central Europe it will all be OK. But once you roll into the Balkans, everything and everyone will go absolutely nuts!’.

From before I aready knew that people tend to take any given opportunity to exaggerate how dangerous and ‘crazy’ things are in places they generally have no personal experience of. But even still, I had been rolling through Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia & Herzegovina and Montenegro waiting for signs of this Balkan madness people kept referring to – without much success.

Probably somewhere in Montenegro I stopped thinking about this at all, as there obviously was not really any connection between these stories and reality. So more relaxed than ever I crossed into Albania, without even considering that things would be any different from the past few weeks through the Balkans.

But – they were.

I spent roughly one week in Albania. An intense week that involved lots of firsts and worsts. Povery, dirt, hopelessness and even violence was constantly present, and I many times had difficulty enjoying views and downhills in the same way I had been before. In hindsight though, it’s clear that many of the ‘bad’ parts of this week are very valuable experiences for my continuation East.

And already – less than one month later – I can look back at my time in Albania with a smile. Apart from being another country with beautiful landscapes and amazing people, it’s also the place were I aquired and got comfortable with a bunch of weird skills – like:

– Handling some pretty rough traffic both in and out of cities
– Fending of angry and aggressive mobs of dogs (with my feet and panniers still intact)
– Getting rid of rude and disrespectful truck drivers with a smile
– Avoiding potholes, enjoying great scenery and not get run over – all at the same time!

Don’t get me wrong though! Albania was awesome already while I was experiencing it. In so many ways, and because of so many wonderful people.

Here are a bunch of photos to give you some glimpses of my Albanian roller coaster ride!


My first night in Albania I met Mikel who welcomed me with homemade raki and a Shkodër city tour


Mikel’s house kind of became the meeting point of all tour cyclists passing through town


And I ended up having not just one, but four Swiss companions to Tirana


My fully loaded bike usually brings a lot of curiosity from people around. But cycling next to the rolling circus of Annaelle and Jonas, I was definitely no longer the center of attention


An early stop gave us lots of time for hanging out, reading maps and sharing stories from the road


With several stoves we took the opportunity to prepare a three course camp dinner


…And then suddenly I found myself in Tirana. With my mum and brother. Happy, happy, happy!


My mum’s idea of adventure. Head torch – sure. But queen sized hotel bed..?


Albanian structure?


And Albanian… Well, something.


Then finally. Came the countryside


And I got to do what I love the most. Peek into the lives of random – amazing – people for a night or two


This was definitely the most difficult and time consuing tent pitching I’ve ever experienced


But Mario came with it as a body guard so I was happy as could be!


Albania is absolutely beautiful. If you want it to be.


But you will have to ignore the trash and dirt that is always – always – present


When standing in the same spot you can either see this


Or turn around to see this…


Just kilometers before the border to Macedonia I ran into Sara from England – another female solo cyclist!


Possibly the coolest person I’ve ever met. One year ago she built her own bike – and rode it to Palestine. When she got there? Well. She simply wasn’t ready to stop just yet and is now pedaling her way back home.

That’s all for now. Keep your eyes open though. Another post – this one about my ride through Macedonia and Greece – is coming up shortly.

Cheers!

By |May 22nd, 2015|Europe, Travel Logs|
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Balkan bicycling & a Finnish sideshow

My time in Croatia really ended on a high note. The medieval town of Dubrovnik is often described as one most beautiful towns Europe, if not the world. And the Old Town sure is something extra. But yet again, it’s genereally not the place that does it for me. It’s the people.

Through Couchsurfing I was welcomed by Damir, a true Dubrovik local, born and raised in the city. He spent his first years actually living within the city walls, and he surely knew his way around big maze of narrow side streets a lot better than most of the guides working there.

The plan was to stay for one night, but I had a bit too much fun with Damir to leave so soon and we ended up spending a couple of great days together. I had been doing quite a lot of cycling without any real rest in a while, so taking a couple of days of the saddle was really nice. Most of the time we spent in Damir’s house right outside of the city, listening to music, talking, laughing and – of course – eating.

But I also had time to discover the Old City and I got to embarass Damir a bit as I made him join me for all the dorky tourist photos. Two activities which I both enjoyed very much!

I’m so amazed by how many fantastic meetings I’ve had with people all along my journey. How I meet them and how we spend the time together is always different, but one thing is always coming no matter what. The goodbye. It always sucks, and leaving Dubrovnik and Damir sure was no exception.

Good thing though was that I was very close to one of those moments that are always awesome. A border crossing! The countries in here are so tiny, and as the borders are just coming one after another I’ve constantly had the feeling of progress all the way through Europe. This time I was entering Montenegro!

So what happened there? Did I find some nice Montenegro locals who would teach me about their culture and way of life? No. I found myself in the company of three Finnish guys who didn’t really teach me anything, but they definitely delivered some good entertainment and surely gave me a night to remember. Unfortunately though, I’m not so sure that they themselves remembered much of it when waking up the next morning.

From briefly having connected while I was stopping to have an apple by the side of the road, one thing – like they ususally do – led to another. And soon I had abandoned my plan of finding a place to camp for the night and instead spent the last hours of sunlight having a few local beers with my new odd friends.

Finnish guys in the age of 50-70 years old are not really my usual crowd, but believe me, I had so much fun with Peter, Heikke and Bruno. I ended up crashing at Peter’s – the Finnish version of Plura Jonsson (not just because of the looks) – place, after having spent the whole night laughing with and at them (and myself) all at the same time.

I went to bed long before any of the others who stayed up partying like teenagers all through the night. Surely – I was missing out. However, at breakfast the next morning I was pretty happy about my decision to throw in the towel the night before. All three of them were still chatty and friendly, but you could just tell. They did not feel well.


Picture of a bike. And three horribly hungover Finnish men.

After having left my Finnish rockstars I had a few amazing days of cycling in Montenegro. The road around Kotor Bay was really incredible. If you go to Montenegro, which I definitely think you should, don’t miss out on this. It’s nothing but magical.

As the name suggests Montenegro offers some really stunning mountains, and I got to enjoy both them and some nice coastal riding on my way towards my next border. These were a few really easy and problem free days in the saddle, and had I known what was coming, I’m sure I would have appreciated them even more than I did.

From Montenegro, I would then pass into Albania – the by far most challenging country yet on the trip. With the highest highs and some pretty rough lows, my week there many times felt like a rollercoaster I never agreed to get on.

But as usual, I won’t let you in on those stories until the next post.

Until then,

Take care & tailwinds!

By |May 14th, 2015|Europe, Travel Logs|
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A detour to reality and back

Keeping this blog up to date has been a bit tricky from the beginning, so last week I decided to take the time to finally catch up with the writing. Then Albania happened. And after a week with limited internet access I’m now even more behind than before. Let’s not worry too much about that though, sooner or later I promise to catch up with reality :)

Coming from Albania, possibly the poorest country in Europe, I feel pretty ridiculous writing this post. But for the sake of chronology, I’ll do it anyways.

So, where were we? Right.

After getting a little too comfortable by the touristic coastline of Croatia, I decided to search out some more adventure. And all I had to do to find it was to cross the mountains that stretch along the sea. Just a couple of hours of riding away from the hotels and bars by the waterfront, I was presented to a very different Croatia. A poorer and dirtier one. One where I actually needed the croatian words and expressions I had learned, but not really needed to use, while rolling down the coast.

I spent the day going for the border into Bosnia & Herzegovina and reached it an hour of so before sunset. Since I was just gonna spend a couple of days in the country, I didn’t really feel like camping and was hoping that I would find some locals who’d let me pick their brains for the night.

And I did!

One at least. And I’m still smiling just thinking about it.

That night Karlo – the ultimate Bosnian macho man – delivered a one man show I’m pretty sure I won’t forget in a long time. I won’t talk too much about this, but at least I can pass on a few quotes from this pretty hilarious guy.


– The corruption is very, very good.

– Putin is king!

– I ask you. Be my girl?

To top the night off, I slept on the floor in the garage, next to Karlo’s gun.

Epic night, haha.

The next day I visited Mostar, one of the big tourist cities in the country. And it was nice. I guess.

It’s funny how things work for me while I’m travelling like this. When cycling I’m always going for the next goal – like Mostar in this case. And most of the time I’ve barely reached it before I want to go for the next one.

I knew it before, but it’s really getting more and more obvious that I don’t enjoy being in the cities nearly as much as I do being in between them. I mean. Seeing and walking over the old bridge in Mostar. Nice. But that’s it.

Spending the night in Karlo’s house in the middle of nowhere? That’s an experience!

However, I’m glad I got there, not least because of the road back towards Croatia being so incredibly beautiful. I followed a river I now can’t remember the name of, and it was one of those rides when you catch yourself about to crash into ditches just because you’re spending way to little time actually looking on the raod.

The way to, and the surroundings of Mostar, ment seeing a lot more people suffering than I’d been doing up until then. I still wasn’t used to, or ready for, passing old ladies digging through garbage for something to eat. Or kids simply sitting in the street doing nothing but staring at their feet. Not even begging for money. Just existing.

Of course this is something I’ve known is coming. And even though I do enjoy sunshine and clean bathrooms, this is exactly why I’m doing this trip. To see the world. And to see it as it actually is. However, I won’t deny that I was really caught off guard here. Again, I knew this was coming. But I didn’t know it was coming so soon. And it hit hard.

After a heartbreaking day back towards the Croatian coast, I had one of the best homestays so far on the trip. With the family who seemingly had the least to give. Determined to make me feel like one of the family, I was pampered with food, bread, hugs and probably the warmest welcome I’ve ever gotten in a house where I really don’t belong.

This was one of those nights that are simply too good for my mind to remember to take out the camera, and I’m sad that I don’t have a photo together with the whole family. However, I do have one of the bed the dad of the family ‘built’ me.

Where I late into the night fell alseep with a crazy mix of emotions swirling inside of me.

This was definitely my best detour so far, and after a morning of coffee, laughs and more hugs I returned to continue my journey along the coast.

When I got back there the sea was just as beautiful, and the ‘Caffe Bars’ just as many as when I left. The big difference though, was that now I actually knew what was behind those big mountains on my left side.

By |May 8th, 2015|Europe, Travel Logs|
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