But the overall theme (if there is one) was waterways. Cycled the Rhine and Danube as well as Belgium, Dutch and English Canals. With Debbie and Aaron we toured the Loire Valley by car – can’t really say I cycled it as 10k in Samour doesn’t count.

Met some interesting and great people along the way, too many to mention. Only used my “cold weather” gear 3 times as the temperature was consistently hitting 30C + all the time.

In the spirit of today’s trend of having the “Ten Best of…..” My top 10, in no particular order are:

• The cycle paths of Belgium, Holland, Austria, France. (Worst by a long shot were England and Hungry)
• Madeira – very pleasant surprise
• Best Bridge – the wooden bike/Foot bridge near Kelheim
• Best Campsite. – Vilshofen an der Donau, totally geared for cyclists
• Bad Days – None, well there were some not so good days but then without them the good days would be ordinary
• Accident free days – all except one – when the bike and I parted company on a bridge
• Punctures or mechanical failures – none
• Best piece of gear – My ultra light weight camp chair with the Brooks Saddle coming in a close second
• Best website/app – hands down Komoot.com in combo with the Garmin Edge.
• The people you meet along the way.

For the last 5 days the biggest hill I’d face was in Ghent and that was not exactly a hill, more a mound. England, or at least the way from Dover to Canterbury used hills with a vengence, I was either sweating up a hill or braking down one, never just cycling on the level.

Since this was the penultimate day of cycling, I decided my bike really needed a clean as, over the weeks, dirt, mud and dust had become attached to the bike. Voila – a clean bike. I think the guy meticulously cleaning his car in the next car wash bay was somewhat perplexed PMB but now I have a shiny bike again,

Passchendaele has been described as New Zealand’s greatest military catastrophe. However saying it is a New Zealand catastrophe neatly avoid the fact that it was the stupidity and obstinate idiocy of British commanders who caused such an avoidable loss of life for New Zealand and other Commonwealth counties.

Tyne Cot is a sobering place and, to be frank, it is almost impossible to imagine what it was like in 1917. As I mentioned there are many cemeteries for the Allied forces but now there are only 4 left for the fallen German solders. And one of those summed up the sadness and grief of war on a personal level. It is at Vladslo in Belgium and has the sculpture of the Grieving Parents by Kathie Kollwitz.

Enough Said

After a week of basically being very lazy and sampling the local wines, it was time for a short tour of northern Belgium so I hopped the ferry to Dunkirk and in the process meeting the only other Kiwi I’ve met so far cycling around. Anyway.. after the warm soft breezes of Madeira, the Gods of wind decided it was time for a change and thought a blast of fresh (read that as: cold as a witches something) northerly wind in your face was the way to go. So for only the second time this trip I’ve dragged out the thermals and beanie. Not a pretty sight. I stayed away from the beaches, both the winds and the high rises took care of that.

I think the last time I was in Bruges was in the 70’s. I believe the Grand Place is still there but you couldn’t really see it for the throngs of eager tourists clicking away with their phones. But I still like the place, although autumn and the shoulder season might be a better time to visit. By the way, watch the film In Bruges with Colin Farrell, it’s a wonderful Black Comedy from 2008.

I finally gave up battling the wind and found a campsite so I could put up my tent and huddle inside. Supposedly the wind will moderate tomorrow when it’s on to Ghent.

Always interesting to do a reverse journey. With 5 weeks under my belt the hills weren’t steep and the miles rolled by with ease – But, as is often the case, just when you think things are sorted, they unravel. Which they did in Harlow.

Now Harlow is not, what one might call the glowing rose of England. It suffers from too much post war architecture (ie a lack of style, coherence or imagination) and this seems to seep into the general atmosphere. So knowing my feelings towards it, Harlow decided to get its own back by insuring that the place I’d booked for the night had my reservation but no room available. Eventually I found a Travel Lodge down by the Station which was ok and the bike and I slept fitfully in the room -that is until the PitStop in Auckland, NZ called to remind me about the Car Warrant being due and the Dentist in Mission Bay called to say it was time for a check up.

The next day was quite a lovely ride thru London’s assault course to Esther and Phils place in southeast London

Anyway…. I now in Madeira now for a week of R&R. Despite what you may see in this picture, the sun is shining and the bike is tucked away, awaiting my return to take on either the West Country or France. It really will be a coin toss when I fly back to London…..

The last few days can best be described as “repositioning” day. After the marathon bus ride to Düsseldorf, it was a relative quick cycle west. But relative is a relative term. While only 35 kilometres, the effects of a very long 36 hours converted the kilometres to miles and minutes to hours. Then, theoretically refreshed after sleeping in a bed, I decided to do 140 kilometres that day so I would have a mere 80 to catch the ferry to England the next day. After all, it was mostly flat terrain and the winds didn’t look to be strong.

It seems that on every bike trip there is one day when I over estimate my reserves and capability. This day was it. It started out okay, even leisurely with an enjoyable ferry ride across one of the many rivers in Holland. But then the heat, once again in the low 30s, started to sap any energy. Then I needed to put on some considerable effort and speed if I was to get the next ferry crossing before it closed for the night. I made the crossing just, only to discover the ferry actually closed 1 hour later. Finally I found a hotel. It was a chain motel sandwiched between a McDonalds and the Motorway that had all the faded finesse of the 1970s. I don’t remember much about the day other than tiredness and pain and this little memorial to a shot down WWII Lancaster Bomber. Only 1 survivor.

The next morning didn’t start with a bright cheerful sunny look. It had a adopted a foggy, cold look tastefully accessorised with rain. The temptation to get a train the rest of the way was great, but then I’d just have to wait longer for the ferry. So I cycled along, not singing in the rain, although I did splash a lot. Once the rain stopped I was able to brew a good strong cup of tea and everything was once again right with the world for a while. My body hadn’t adapted to the sudden cool weather.

Anyway, now I’m waiting for the ferry, lined up with lots of vans, cars etc so I can get on board, recover and sleep.

So, here are some sleepless thoughts on cycling two of the great European Rivers, the Rhine and the Donau (aka Danube).

Neither one was particularly hard, and in fact probably down right easy on a e-bike. In deed a number of the guest houses had electrical outlets all set for them. At times on the Donau, it was easier to count the non e-bikes as they were far fewer in number than the e-bikes.

Excepting the climb between the two rivers, the hard parts had more to do with wind and road surfaces which were perfect in Austria and the opposite in Hungary.

If I had to choose one particular part, it would be the Austrian Danube section to Vienna. Truely iconic with superb scenery, great paths, wonderful guest houses, bicycle campgrounds and lots of beer gardens. The only thing missing was Julie Andrews singing about the hills being live with the sound of music.I’d rate that section alongside northern Norway as my two top cycle touring areas – Although I chose each for very different reasons! However that’s not being fair to the rest of the trip as all parts were great. That is until the approaches to Budapest. So!

Best Bridge

Best Meal

Best Campground

Best Moment

Next – back across Holland and England to London

Enough of that! But I am in a Budapest Bus Station waiting for the FlixBus to take my bike and I back along the route I cycled all the way to Düsseldorf. It’ll take 18 ½ hours starting at 10pm – can’t wait :~/

I felt a lot better about Budapest after a good night’s sleep, although it was full of a multitude of languages as tourists from everywhere were here. I’d grown very attuned to the peace and quiet of the country and had managed to avoid most cities along the way. Some might say that was terrible and that I was missing all the usual sights – Cathedrals, Museums, “local” tourist food etc. Nah!

But I did go to an Organ recital in St Stephen’s Bascilica. I think the concert was geared towards showing the full power of the “World Famous Pipe Organ”, rather than it’s range. Apart from that the city was hot. I think the temperature has hit 30 plus for my last three weeks. I’m beginning to melt.

As I mentioned I’m heading to Düsseldorf then cycling back to London from there before flying to Madeira for a week. After that ?? I’m not sure.

At Esztergom I thought about taking a short cut cross country to Budapest, but 5 km into it I felt I was somehow cheating so turned back and kept going along the Danube. Not very long afterwards, the usual thunderstorm closed in and while sheltering, I met an Aussie who’d started out from Budapest. He’d seriously underestimated the distances and was going to have difficulty making his destination before evening. Anyway, as it had taken him about 3 hours to get to where we met, I decided to push on.

Well, one of the websites did mention that the Hungarian section could be a little bit rough and wasn’t necessarily suitable for all types of cyclists. I ended up cycling much of the way standing up, such was the jarring and bouncing from the “path”. Then as I neared Budapest, the path ceased to exist and i was in a stream of Sunday afternoon motorists keen to speed home. But the time I finished the journey, I had sore, frayed at the edges and ready to quit Hungary.

On the plus side the condition of the roads did put to rest any lingering thoughts of going beyond Budapest. Anyway tomorrow is a new day.

With the westerly winds I thought I could fly for ever. But the paths changed to deep gravel and my progress slowed quicker than possible. so I resorted to the Roads and eventually make it to Komarmo in Slovakia.

All along this long journey I’ve had the question of myself “Why am I doing this?”

I really do not know. But in both a synagogue and a church I cried.