Cycling adventures across Yorkshire, Britain and beyond
It was a dishcloth morning: damp, grey, cold, with recent ones unsettlingly indistinguishable from much older ones. Anyway, untrafficked and unfenced lanes trickled their way through farmland and woods, up and then down, flat and then down and then up. At times I felt stranded in some sort of eternally repeating GIF. Not unpleasantly, though….
A full day’s cycling today, involving a lot of hills, and Czechia’s most bizarre garden. I managed to ride the whole rather challenging route thanks to (1) a long sleep last night and (2) bland supermarket food, curated to not further upset a stomach chaotically overturned by those radioactive mussels in Prague. Heading out of…
You never know what a bike tour is going to throw up. This morning, unfortunately, it was the contents of my stomach. At 7am, after a sleepless, writhing and uncomfortable night, I frantically shooed Nigel out of the bathroom, where he was doing what you’d expect – working on his bike – and acknowledge the…
The super-simplified gloss on why Czecho- split from -Slovakia in 1992 is down to the Austro-Hungarian Empire. The Czechs were essentially Austro, and the Slovaks Hungarian. Clearly there’s far more to it than that; argue with me in the comments below. (NB Comments not available on this page.) But, in terms of guesthouse breakfast, today…
The serious stuff started today. Our destination promised the great hat-trick of Czech features: cheap beer in local bars; a fine historic castle; and the ř, one of the world’s rarest and hardest sounds. (Imagine saying a trilled ‘rrr’, and ‘sh’, while stifling a sneeze. But whatever you do, don’t try to actually say it.)…
In my haphazard mental map, the Czechs have wandered about the continent. In Mozart’s time they were at the heart of Europe. In the 1970s I vaguely believed they were in Eastern Europe. During the 1990s I thought them transported to Western Europe. And through the 2000s, I understood them as resettling back at the…
I’m recovering from scheduled hand surgery, which has resulted in forty or so stitches in my left palm and little finger. It looks like Boris Karloff’s attempts to sew a mailbag on deck in a storm. So for a couple of weeks I’m having to take things easy. Which means essential journeys only. Such as…
I had an unexpected stay in Rotterdam, so I nipped down south on the train today to see the Netherlands’ most celebrated cycle roundabout: the Hovenring, a gyratory suspended in mid-air above a main road in Eindhoven. The hovering interchange is on the Rondje Eindhoven (‘Little Ring’) bike route that loops round the city. Half-bridge,…
With time short today – I had to be in Bruges by the evening – I utilised the fact I was on a folding bike and took a bus short cut back up the hill to Bertrix, which I cycled through yesterday. (It’s ‘bear-tree’, not ‘bear-tricks’, by the way.) Progress was slow today, what with…
Another sunny, easy, lovely day, trundling the quiet lanes and bike paths of southern Wallonia, and ending up at a place called Soup. It was straight-up freezing cold when I left my room in Beauraing at half seven this morning. I always wondered what chilblains were when my grandparents talked about them sixty years ago….