Cycling adventures across Yorkshire, Britain and beyond
Wonderful, wonderful riding today: half on one of the best railtrails I’ve ever done; half on beautiful quiet scenic mountain roads; and what felt like half on a terrible forest track I wouldn’t wish on even a Tory MP. First, that fabulous railway bike path. The Ecopista do Dão was opened in 2011 on the…
A shortish day, but a strenuous one. Because despite yesterday evening’s ascent, we had much more climbing this morning: five hundred or so more metres, up to a summit just shy of a thousand metres. At least it would burn off last night’s burgers and beers. And give us an appetite for tonight’s. Portugal’s cafes…
The first full day of riding, and a chance to get some proper miles under our belt. Also under our belt went custard tarts, cake, muffins, Iberian ham and local cheese, cod empanadas, garlic sausage, enough fresh bread to insulate an Antarctic research station, and litres of coffee. That was some hotel breakfast. We followed…
I’m cycling the Portugal End to End, with my chum Nigel: from Chaves in the north to Faro on the south coast. It’s a journey of about 475 miles (760km), or about 25 custard tarts. We’re taking the old N2, once the main road that runs – or rather, crawls – the length of the…
If this Austrian End to End started with Bangs, it ended with – well, not exactly whimpers, but maybe a shrug and a meh. The last few foggy, drearily uneventful floodbank-top miles of Danube Path were like Philip Glass played on a hurdy-gurdy. For five hours. Except that I rather enjoyed the quiet solitude of…
A rest day (hence the brackets) in Vienna. Nigel went to Budapest to have lunch, while I stayed in town to do chores. I replaced brake blocks, did laundry, and attended to some work admin. Not especially because I had to, but I thought it sounded good to say I was ‘doing some writing from…
Johann Strauss’s first draft of what was to become On the beautiful blue Danube was a mundane song praising the virtues of street lighting. (This is true.) Well, today’s stretch of Danube path was definitely more in that vein than the azure lilt of the more famous version. It was foggy and chilly most of…
It wasn’t exactly Instagram weather for the runners doing the Linz Marathon this morning: thick fog, with a visibility of less than five metres. A hot-air balloon, burners roaring, was preparing for take-off, which seemed a trifle optimistic. The lack of views wasn’t going to trouble us unduly though. We spent all day following the…
The forecast rain came as something of a relief after days of autumn sun. It’s possible to have too much honey, after all. But all this Scotch mist was making me a little homesick, as was the headline in the morning paper about our government back home: Britisches Chaos. We had a good-humoured conversation about…
With nobody at hostel reception to open up the bike store for me, we couldn’t check out. So I took matters, and the key, into my own hands, trespassing behind the unstaffed counter and rummaging in a drawer to find it. It was a damp, cloudy morning, as if the weather had suddenly remembered overnight…