The final leg!

Without further ado, its time for the final blog post of our adventure. I have been waiting for pictures to develop so apologies for the delay, but it should make for a colourful finale. I've had to go back in time from the start, so Day 1 marks the day we left the farm, and so on.

Day 1.

I'd love to say that leaving the farm was an emotional, tearful and dramatic departure, but that wouldn't be their style. It was however, a lovely send off which marked an amazing two months of the trip. We gathered around for a group photograph and then left with a kiss on each cheek from Laila, and a handshake from Peter, it was firm.

Despite a windy first day back on the bike, it felt good! The legs felt fresh and the bike felt as reliable and smooth as ever. We had also had several espressos prior to our departure and had a major kick of caffeine in the system.

The initial paranoia that I felt about leaving the farm (I knew I would leave something), turned into sadness that it might be a long, long time before we see them again. We have agreed to return to the farm one day; in their words: 'even if its in 10 years with your kids, you must come back'. However, this feeling was replaced by overwhelming excitement about what lie ahead. I felt a strange sense of ease and relaxation wash over me as I got back into the rhythm again, there’s a lovely feeling of just cycling into the unknown. As much fun as the farm was, at times we could grow restless and crave the travelling lifestyle (usually on the rainy days). But back on the bike, everything clicked into place. 



We managed a steady 50km before we got rained off, and having done little to no cycling training in the past 2 months - the muscles ached. So we called it a day and pitched our tent in a nicely hidden spot just next to a farmers field outside the town of 'Caraman'. 



Day 2.

I woke after a terrible nights sleep, the ground so bumpy and erratic it felt like sleeping on a nicely spread group of boulders. It left me aching in parts of the body I didn't even know could ache - primarily the shin. Unbelievable.



It was also raining. We had been expecting rain but its never any consolation when it does arrive. We 'rain proofed' all our gear and were back on the road by 10am. It wasn't a heavy downpour but it still managed to dampen the spirits. 



After about 15km I heard a twang from the back of bike and instinctively knew it was a spoke. It was the first time it had happened to me on the trip so I held off from moaning, but with the miserable weather adding to this it was hard to remain positive. On my next cycling trip I am determined to become an expert at spoke fixing. It’s an unnecessary hassle that I should have learnt how to do. 



We limped into the town of Galliac and every shop was closed for fiesta. By this point it was 3pm so I was confused as to why the shops were still shut (usually the fiesta is 12pm - 2pm).  We did eventually find a bike shop and waited patiently outside thinking it would re-open. After investigating why every shop was still closed we discovered that today was a national holiday to celebrate 'the rise of Jesus Christ'. Now my patience was really being tested. We decided to find a campsite and wait until morning for the shop to re-open. When we arrived at the campsite... It was shut! I think my exact reaction was: 'Ahhh f**k this, f**k Jesus! lets just sneak on'. However, we picked a nice central spot and inevitably got caught. The guy let us stay for 5 euros each, which was lucky - otherwise I might just have had a breakdown.

Our method of peeing.

Day 3.



By 9am we were cycling back to the bike shop hoping that the Jesus festivities had ended. Thank GOD... they had. Within 30 minutes the bike was thankfully fixed for a very reasonable 9 euros (sam had been charged 65 francs in Switzerland for the exact same job). They also tightened a few screws and pumped the tyres and the bike felt wonderfully smooth. With the bike fixed, cycling on perfect roads all day and the sun shining with a cool breeze, we managed 95km. It felt good to finally put in some good miles once again.



There has also been a noticeable shift in the roadside ecosystems we cycle past. Since leaving the Mid-Pyrenees area the soils seem a lot drier, resulting in some die hard grasses and scrubby vegetation fighting for survival in the midday sun. The topography of the land remains familiar with rolling valleys and rivers penetrating through. Farms are plentiful with vineyards and other more typical types of arable agriculture the most apparent. In the South, pastoral farms seem to be less predominant, the environment is presumably too dry to accommodate such an intense demand on the land which pasture would cause.



 
We finished a wonderful days cycling about 10km shy of Cahors. I could have cycled for longer but we needed to stop at Cahors in the morning for supplies. 



Day 4.

Day 4 epitomised the highs and lows, peaks and troughs, strikes and gutters etc... of cycle touring. We were climbing and descending for over 90km.



The days cycling actually brought a new meaning to the word 'sweat'. It actually made me question its function. 'To cool down ones self' is just a lie. Its been baking hot all day and 'sweating' has only added to the problem. A sweat drip into the eye is blinding, I don't know what the eyebrows are meant to be doing in all of this, clearly not their job. Its also been hard to escape Snoop Doggs new single 'I wanna make you sweat', that makes me laugh, the lyrics are obviously genius, but the subject matter is all wrong. He desires a sweaty lady, which obviously means she's hot, tired and probably overweight. And if it's bodily fluid he's after, try the urine. 'I wanna make you urinate' would work so much better, his ladyfriend would then be cool, well hydrated and ready for action. In fact, urine has so many more functions than sweat; its sterile, full of nutrients and far tastier than sweat. The salt content alone in sweat could kill a slug with one drop. 



Digressions aside, its been a tough day. We still managed good miles and have found a nice spot in the woods to make camp.

Day 5.

A lot more of the same. The sun made an appearance today so the ascents were soul destroying. It was also a Sunday and every shop was shut so we quickly ran out of water. The highlight of the day occurred after an hours constant climbing in the sun we found a village water fountain. We couldn't resist dunking our heads into the cold, refreshing and wonderful water. What a relief it provided from the hot and humid conditions.


 

By 4pm we still had no water so we decided to check into a campsite. That night our tent proved to be a valuable asylum from the storm that passed over us. We woke several times through the night to the heaviest of rainfall, unable to sleep through the noise, but thankful that our little refuge was sufficient to keep our possessions and us dry.

Day 6.

I simply logged: 'Fantastic day on the bike. Rolling valleys made for tough cycling but we reached 100km'.



Day 7.

What occurred on day 7 was described by Sam as the following: 'An absolute nightmare; bullshit; torture; hell' and several other expletives. However, I would simply describe it as character building (in retrospect). 



The day started well, smooth flat roads with overcast weather combined to provide at least the potential for another good days mileage. Then: TWANG! Followed by Sam saying "Spokes gone again". At this point we were 30km to the nearest town of Argenton sur-Creusse, which looked big enough to contain a bike shop. Upon arrival the first local we asked actually gave us a driven escort to the bike shop! However, it soon became clear that the shop owner was a complete dick and had no interest in us or any inclination to help. We discovered that there was no other bike shop in town and our only option was to cycle ANOTHER 30km to the city of Chateauroux to get it fixed. By this point we had already cycled 70km, 30 of which on a broken spoke. With no other options we soldiered on.


The roads began flat and within 15 minutes we were a third of the way there. Then, inevitably, a storm rolled in. Spirits were already down with the extended diversion to find a bike shop, but this was to prove a real test of courage. Sam obviously wanted to push on to get the fix, and although I could empathise with the situation, I craved nothing more than some simple shelter.

Reluctantly, we cycled on through this great downpour. It was tough to carry on in what seemed like the coldest, wettest and most miserable hour of my life. The shorts were still on though and passing cars must have endeavoured in a wee giggle at our expense. To our delight we found the bike shop without much trouble and were able to dry off a bit while they did the repair. Once we got out of the city we pitched the tent in a field to reflect on what had been a character-building day!

Day 8.

(Journal entry)

 Another 100km day! The cycling was exactly average: Slight headwind, average 12mph. High point - cycled through parts of the tour de France circuit that were preparing for next months race. Passed by massive group of enthusiastic Korean cyclists who were full of cheer. Pitched in a field near Onzain.



Day 9.

We met a fellow tourer from Holland who was cycling to Portugal with her dog! She had custom built a doggy trailer and what a life it was leading! Had a nice chat with her about each other’s adventures. It made me realise how happy I am to be sharing the journey with someone. There is just something lacking from solo expeditions in my opinion. It seemed like she had a lot to get off her chest when we met and was very talkative!



Later in the day we were also offered a place to stay by a man in a passing car! It was a strange proposition but we obliged. It turned out to be a poorly maintained farmhouse where he lived in his own filth. Before we realised this we had already accepted a place in his garden and it was too late to back out. The signs were there from the start: When we were taken into the garden a pitbull ran around the corner to my terror. These dogs are illegal in Britain and (we think) France for mauling children.

At about 7pm our manners again prevailed and we accepted his offer of a drink in the squalor that was his home. He sat there with his equally scruffy mate drinking whiskey and becoming more agitated and aggressive with his opinions on marriage. His wife had left him that year and his life and seemingly gone down the pan since that event. It was without doubt the most uncomfortable hour of my life as we struggled to make conversation with these two depressive alcoholics. When we eventually found an excuse to leave we crawled back into the tent hoping for an uneventful night and to leave at the break of dawn.


Day 10.

Glad to leave our place of residence for the night, we managed 95km on the bike. It was a tiresome day, we hadn't had a break in 10 days and the legs were beginning to get fatigued. With just 3 days left the thought of the return to the UK lingered in the mind. As excited as I am to see familiar faces and indulge in some home comforts, I know it won’t be long before I'm back on the bike - crossing countries. 





In our rush to escape the rain late on in the day, we became complacent with our choice of camping spot and got caught out in the morning. What ensued was a strange exchange between a man (probably telling us to leave) and I, protesting our innocence. We quickly left after we'd been told, and nothing more came of it.

Day 11.

We needed to push for big miles today and reached the 100km target with the usual tiresome routine. The muscles seem strong enough to sustain an even tougher and gruelling challenge; with the right energy and hydration levels I'd love to push myself to the limit. Coincidentally, today was the day Mark Beaumont cycled 'Arch to Arch' - London to Paris in 24 hours! Amazing effort. 262 miles is an unbelievable distance to cycle in one day.

We decided to find a campsite to have a shower (it had been over a week), and during our search a local offered us accommodation so we obliged. This residence could not have been more of a contrast to our prior stay with the depressive alcoholic.



Upon arrival we were offered food, drinks, a shower and then given the tour of their wonderful home. We could not have felt more welcome. After we pitched the tent we met all of the family. We soon discovered that the lady who offered us her home didn't actually live there, she was just staying with her sister. Anyhow, there were two guys around the same age as me and Sam, who were cousins, then the two sisters (their parents), both with hints of a wild and eccentric past. Both had partaken in cycling tours around Europe and had received warm welcomes whilst in the UK, so we fell nicely into their good books.

They were great company and we enjoyed an evening of banter, fine wine, beer..... but an awful meal! To the amusement of everybody, the visiting sister had endeavoured to produce some 'famous French cuisine', only to serve up some stodgy and rubbery noodles. We all had a laugh at her expense, and she followed suit. However, apple pie and ice cream is enough to forgive her culinary misfortunes. We were just grateful and happy to receive such a warm welcome into their home.

Day 12:



We departed our residence for the night with fond memories; also with an air of anticipation that today (if all went to plan) would prove to be the last day on the bikes!



We had left ourselves just a short 50km to cycle to the portside town of Ouistreham. The weather has proven to thwart and frustrate us since our departure of the farm. Since the warm and temperate South a gradual chill has descended upon us. With the wind against us, and the rain becoming more predominant, day-by-day, the final leg has been a tougher stretch than we once imagined. 



However, within a few hours we had reached our final destination! On a wet, miserable day in Northern France, our cycle tour had come to an end. A slight anticlimax if ever there was one. I wasn't thrilled to finish as it marked the end of an adventure, but an adventure that has taken us through the flatlands of the beautiful Holland, the rustic Belgium, the pocket delight of Luxembourg, natures finest - Switzerland and finally the charming, wonderful France. 



We celebrated with a man-sized bottle of Desperados in the comfort of a warm, cozy hotel. For it has been a barbaric and wild existence; travelling in such manners determines to outline such primary desires in a fashion that seize to exist when surrounded by such a familiar comfort zone. And that about wraps things up...

It were good that.

The end.

We've Finshed!

The last 2 weeks have really lived up to the name of 'Cycling... into the wild'. Consequently, I've had no longer than 5 minutes online throughout this duration. Alas! A blog post is Coming Soon...

DISCLAIMER: It will be long, and it will be suitably stupendous in its content.

Week 11

So our time at the farm has unfortunatley come to an end. Our hosts have been the most welcoming, down to earth people I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. We've spent just shy of 2 months at the farm and we wont be forgetting it any time soon. Today (May 31st) was our proposed leaving day, but due to strange weather patterns (rain) over here we are staying an extra night. As a result, tomorrow will be the official day we leave the farm and make our way back to the UK. Its approximatley 900 miles to the ferry port and we expect to cycle that in a couple of weeks.

This past week has been a real highlight of the trip; my 22nd birthday was marked by a visit from my girlfriend. I managed to assemble a 'highlights' package of my time at the farm and it was a real pleasure to show her around my current surroundings.

The 'birthday week' started with a nice tour of the farm and then a trip to our closest town of Mirepoix. I've taken for granted how nice this town is, as me and sam usually bypass the town centre and head straight to the beer section of SUPER-U. A historic centre is surrounded by sprawling suburbs with a backdrop of the Pyranees mountain range. We had a nice walk around in the afternoon and then got back to the farm to milk the goats!

Then for my birthday! No big deal, but I turned 22 last thursday. In stark contrast to my birthday last year, I spent the day on the beach at La Grande Motte resort after a few nice birthday suprises in the morning. My 21st birthday last year was spent in my university library stressing over unfinished assignments.

My birthday bundle including 2 amazing books from the Willis clan.

We then had a nice birthday meal, it was only right to have a steak and beer to make me feel more masculine than I actually am. Its nice at the moment to be able to pull off wearing a vest in public. Usually I look like a tool, but I could see all the middle aged men staring with envy.

I'm not really a fan of birthdays, I just see it as another day, but this one will stand out for me. A perfect day.

On friday we had a nice drive into Carcassone, where I failed as a tour guide and managed to get us lost for an hour looking for the historic city. We eventually got there and had a nice look around. I was keen to show laura a chocolate shop where they sold huge slabs of chocolate that I'd seen before and wanted to buy one. At first the shop owner misheard me and picked up a small bit (instead of the SLAB I desired) and weighed it out. "Nine euros fifty sir". I was shocked. "How much?" Nine... euros.... fifty. At that price a slab would have weighed about 50 euros. I was so close to just walking off but my politeness prevailed and I reluctantly paid the man. Lesson learnt.

The weekend was then spent in the great outdoors, on saturday a beautifully refreshing swim in a nearby river, then on sunday I took Laura up to the top of a mountain!

A lot colder than it looks!

The mountain climb was certainly a challenge for us both: A real fitness test for laura and a mental test for me to keep her motivated to keep going! Laura isn't exactly 'unfit' (she's doing the great north swim next month) but I had the advantage of having cycled over 1200 miles to get here and the muscles in my thighs and calves were able to make this kind of exercise relatively straight forward. But it is an altitude gain of several thousand feet and can be a real strain on the legs. I can proudly report that we both made it to the top, despite Lauras 'jelly legs'. The views are incredible. Pictures really don't do it justice but here are a nice selecion anyway.

Drinking from a stream!

Sweaty Laura.

Amazing 6 foot snow mound.

At the top!

Very proud of her.

That about summarizes a great week of the trip. We're very excited to get back on the road and start heading back to the UK. But we will be leaving this dog behind.....

Week 10

Seeing as this week I have nothing interesting or blog-worthy to report, I've decided to do a rather special blog. It was an idea I had as I was going through my ipod: If I had to pick 10 songs that would define me, what would they be? Its a concept that I thought would be easy, just pick a few songs from my favourite artists, but then I started thinking of songs that had a lot of significance to me; consequently every song here has a story to tell. It was a lot harder than I thought it would be (thats what she said).

Apologies to anybody who just thought this blog would just be about cycling; this will be fully resumed in about 2 weeks when we will be cycling from Mirepoix (my current location) back to the UK. But for now, just listen to some wonderful music.

I was first introduced to Bon Iver by my friend Dan Scouse about 3-4 years ago. Since then he has gained massive popularity, primarily due to the fact that his debut album is incredible. He recorded every song on his own in a log cabin in Wisconsin. I listened to the album every night for about 6 months with Laura by my side.

Buddy Holly was my childhood hero. I was enthralled by his rise to fame, his success and then the tragedy. It was the first proper album I ever owned and Rave on was one of my favourite tracks of his. 

Its hard not to love David Bowie, and I could have chosen about 20 different songs of his. But I recently heard this song at the end of the documentary: The Cove. I've never appreciated the lyrics so much and it gave me an overwhelming desire to help environmental causes, something I will pursue well into the future.

 

This song reminds me of the best 3 months of my life. It was constantly played in America while I was working with American conservation experience. Many of the projects involved long drives to different national parks and this song became legendary throughout the ranks at ACE. I still remember a drunken 'A capella' version of the song by about 15 of us in Flagstaff brewery which brought the bar to a complete standstill. 

I've no idea why I became so obsessed with this song, but it represents the only music rebellion era I've ever had in my life. I used to love coming home drunk to this song and putting it on full blast to the dismay of my university housemates. I still remember my friend Adam screaming at me to turn off 'that shite'. And he can really scream. I retaliated by turning it up even louder. It makes me laugh knowing that this song represents the music rebel in me. 

I'm a newcomer to classical music, but there's no better place to start. 'The planets' is a series I can listen to endlessly, and Jupiter is my favourite. It needs no more explanation, however, this particular performance is absolute perfection. I love how the conductor becomes overwhelmed with emotion after about 3 minutes.

Motown is the ultimate in feel good music. I think this is about as good as it gets. I defy anybody not to feel happy while this song is on. 

Just in case things were getting too happy, here's a classic which reminds me of one specific day I had in America. Me and a few friends from ACE were in a whiskey bar in Flagstaff at about 1pm on a tuesday. Their jukebox was incredible and we put this on; the mood suddenly changed and one of my friends started getting really weird and insulting everybody for no reason. She got really personal and it actually made me question whether I was a good person or not. It was strange because before that moment I had had nothing but respect for her, but with this song in the background I can still remember that moment so well, I had never been insulted to my face like that before, and I don't think I ever will be in the future. Then later in the day, by complete coincidence this song came on at a bar we were at and we all sang and danced like nothing had ever happened. 

This song speaks so many truths about how I've started to feel in life. 

Possibly the greatest song of all time. Its also tops my 'most played' chart on my ipod so it must have some significance to me. It never fails to give me shivers and despite what I'm ever busy with at the time, I always have to stop and just listen to the last few minutes with my eyes closed. 

Well that brings it to 10. It was too hard to pick out a single track from Bob Dylan, but otherwise I think its a pretty good list. 

Week 8... or 9?

A strange week on the farm; unlike England, we've had pretty crap weather all week so we've been tied down to the farm. I still haven't got round to doing the 100 mile bikeride, but it'll be soon. So with the bad weather we've just been watching films and reading books, and drinking too much beer. However, on the one day we were blessed with sunshine we made the most of it and decided to climb a mountain.


We think it was called Mount Ferrata, but this is unconfirmed. It was certainly a major peak in the French Pyrenees mountain range. It took about an hour to drive to the trail head and then we were off on another mini-adventure.

This was taken before we realised just how much snow there would be at the top - hence the shorts and t-shirt combination. However, I also wanted to keep my 100% mountain climb/shorts combination in check. It would be un-English to even attempt a mountain climb in anything more than shorts. So off we went.

The first couple of hours were awesome; nice sunshine, clear skies, wonderful views and not a single trace of human impact on this most beautiful of landscapes.

I'm not too sure what I was trying to achieve with this pose, its fairly reminiscent of Rocky? Anyway, this picture also gives a preview of the type of terrain we would have to face to reach the peak. The peak we reached was actually twice as big and scary as shown above!

The hike got gradually harder and colder as we went on. The air had a noticeable chill the longer we went on, despite the constant sunshine. Although I didn't notice it getting thinner like I had on my previous climb of Mount Humphreys, AZ.

Once we passed the treeline the snow became a lot more prominent and also meant that it was difficult to stick to the trail. I had one hairy moment when I attempted to cross a big mound of snow that had covered the trail on a steep shoulder. The snow was quite icy and slippery and with a fairly big drop if I were to slip. I made it half way across when my foot ever so slightly slipped and my heart went a bit funny. It was the type of mountaineering that would usually require full snow gear with an axe, harnesses and spiked boots, and here I was with shorts and a t-shirt, foolishly trying to make this crossing. I decided to turn back using the imprints I had made in the snow/Ice. Instead we had to climb up a steep patch of dense vegetation to go around the snow mound (on the way back I actually fell down this steep section but I managed to grip onto some heather to stop any momentum I could have gained and fallen any further down the mountain side). I think it was roughly around this point when I turned to Sam and said that this is pretty hardcore stuff.

After a tricky and exhausting final section we finally reached the peak at about 2pm. Its a great feeling to reach the summit of a mountain. You literally feel on top of the world and its a feeling I'll keep chasing into future.

We met a welshman at the top who lived in the South of France, he'd done the climb a few times before and recommended a few different routes back, but as we were about to start the descent, thick clouds drew in so we figured it would be safer to stick to the same route back down. About 5 minutes before we met him we had actually said how good it would be to have a beer to celebrate. Then as we were chatting to him he whipped out a beer and said: 'I never do a mountain climb without a beer'. Bastard. At least it gives me an excuse to do it again.

So a real highlight of the trip in a fairly uneventful week. We did manage to get the day off to watch the Royal wedding though, and as 'lovely' as it was, it kind of annoyed me. I'd forgotten just how religious weddings can be. As the Archbishop droned on I forgot that 2 billion of the worlds population were watching, this has probably undone the combined work of Dawkins, Harris and Hitchens in one swift move, and reaffirmed many peoples belief in Myth.

Until next time!

Week 7

Another week on the farm has flown by. Although this week we've probably started to get too settled. Both of us are getting a bit restless and we need new challenges. Our highlight of the week was yesterday when we did a 10km river descent on a joint canoe. It was a lot of fun, we were only able to get one picture and don't we look silly. The feedback has been primarily either 'Nerds' or 'Gay'.

Apart from this, we've just been working away, and I've managed to read books on each of the following topics: Women in Afghanistan, The Kray twins, Emma Roberts sailing around the world and How to be good. Reading is fun, but I've decided I need a new challenge; so the next off day I have (with good weather), I'm going to cycle 100 miles just for the hell of it. I've not done 100 miles before in a day, but it can't be that hard. I've even plotted a nice route:

Its roughly the same distance as my home village of Leven to Manchester. It should be good to challenge myself on a solo ride, the longest I've done by myself in a day is around 50 miles. So look out for that in the coming week.

Congratulations also to a few friends from my home village who cycled the trans pennine trail over the easter weekend for the charity: Dove house hospice. The route is 333km over dirt and road and they did it in an impressive 3 days. I'd love to have a go at that one day. I think they raised most of the money in local pubs, but you can still donate on their just giving page: http://www.justgiving.com/tpt2011

If you've enjoyed the blog, please add comments. I really enjoy reading through them and I'm still amazed at how many page views I've had (over 3,000 now), but with only a handful of people commenting! Its really easy to do: You just have to click on the bit at the bottom of every post where it says 0 Comments.... or 2 Comments for example, and then Post a comment. No excuses. 

Week 6

We've been at the farm now for about a week and a half and we're loving it. I must however apologize for the lack of action in this next blog post. I hope you accept my apology with a new feature of the blog: Videos! I've been filming and filming over the past few weeks and have hours of footage which I plan on editing a nice film out of. I've only just managed to put them onto a laptop for backup purposes, but hopefully it'll nicely portray what life on the road and farm is like (a tiny bit).

Since we arrived at the farm we've settled into a whole new routine with a bit of labour involved. Its all good fun though. Most of the work is milking goats and then doing some work in the cheese factory. I also have the job of chopping wood (picture the opening scene of inglorious basterds where the cow farmer is chopping wood). That's basically me. I chop wood then devour goats milk. I'm not hiding Jews though.

Without further ado, here is the first video sample which I shot this morning. We do this for a couple of hours every morning, and look out for Pippetto, our helper. I've realised this video wont be much interest to anyone unless you're a goat farmer, or want to see what work we do.

It took forever to upload so don't get too excited for upcoming videos, just hold tight until I've edited the film together. Or if you can't wait that long, here's my first ever travel video to wet your whistle: http://vimeo.com/8201202. I've upped my editing game since then, it is cool to look back on though.

We've also done a fair bit of exploring since our arrival. The nearest town is a tourist hotspot: Mirepoix; a nice medieval town that attracts plenty of English. There's even a British shop, I laughed when I saw it and at the type of stuff they sell. Twinings tea, Dairy Milk chocolate, Heinz Baked beans etc. But its actually been a handy shop for us as they sell English books. Also close by is Carcasonne; they actually shot the new Robin Hood film here, I haven't seen it, but so I'm told. The old part of the city is really cool, however, its just overpowered by tourists. Damn yanks.

I was quite impressed with Sam's panoramic effort. The shot below is overlooking the modern Carcasonne.

So apart from these few visits and the work, our life now is rather uneventful in comparison to a few weeks ago. But we're living for free and enjoying life. We tend to get drunk a lot. The wine is dirt cheap and it makes the evenings more interesting. We're even thinking of extending our time at this farm as we're so happy with the deal. Good news for us, but bad news for the blog, unless you love pictures of goats, then there's plenty more to be excited for! 

DAY 32 - 37

So we've reached day 37 on the trip! We are now nicely settled on our first farm linked with WWOOF and are located close to the city of Carcasonne. I must start by expressing my delight to see the great man himself Mark Beaumont has been following the journey; me and sam have often laughed about how this machine could do 226km in a single day, and maintain similar distances for half a year. In my hours on the bike I sometimes contemplate whether his world record could ever be beaten, and my conclusion is simply, no. He didn't give the rest of us even a chance. Its just too fast. His link from twitter also brought in a few comments and quiries regarding cycling touring which I shared just a few weeks ago and which I'll happily answer in the comments section. My main advice with a trip such as this is to not get bogged down in minor details, worrying too much about the 'what ifs' can change a mindset from positive to negative. Once you get out on the road you quickly realise what has to go into achieving a sustainable routine on the bike and all the worries quickly dissipate.

Back to the journey! I have to go back in time again for this post, but already its making me smile in the knowledge that its been by far the best week we've had on the bike.

We really lucked out with our hostel in Nimes, an English host greeted us and shared in our passion for football, this meant that we enjoyed the champions league match on an enourmas pull down projector high def screen - something he saves for rainy days. We enjoyed a few beers with him and met a few characters along the way. We also stopped by at the Nimes ampitheatre - the best preserved ampitheatre in the entire Roman empire. It really was fascinating. An audio guide takes you back to the gladitorial peaks of these spectacles. I had no idea how brutal an affair it really was. The core of the shows are based on pure animal cruelty, I can't sympathise too much in the human elements that much as (I'm told) most gladiators had a choice to fight, and only when the 'sport' lost its popularity would slaves be made to fight. They gave a few shocking examples of the animal cruelty which I could not believe, "A bear would be chained to a lion in a fight to the death with punters betting on which animal would win". I felt relieved that this sport didn't last for as long as you might think, but then I quickly remembered bull fighting is still in existance.

Once out of Nimes we really just aimed in the general direction of Carcassone. We were once again blessed with incredible weather for the following 3 days, and I began to realise that its no coincidance why so many people are obsessed with the South of France. The climate for one is enough reason to visit, however, we never really ventured far south enough to see the spectacles of Monaco, Saint Tropez, etc. I can see the appeal of the sunshine, sea and sand found at these places. But we've had that in abundance in the form of lakes and rivers, and we don't have to feel out of place next to the millionaires with their yachts, I mean look what we found at the side of the road.

 Sam was happy too.

This was exactly what we needed at 2pm with the temperature will into the mid 30s. It was the first time on the trip where I've really had to think about properly managing my body. I was probably sweating just as much as I was drinking, and I had to keep eating peanuts to put back in the salt that I would lose. One of the worst things is sweat in the eye, its blinding.

A few days with this heat and our routine had to change. We decided to get up earlier, cycle until 1pm, then take a siesta till 3/4pm and go on till 7pm. We would try to revolve the siesta around a nice river or waterfall. With this change in routine we put in some good miles and were well on course to reach the farm on the proposed date of April 10th.

When it came to getting to the farm, we spoke to the hosts and arranged a time, we only had to cycle 60km so we thought by saying mid afternoon we would have plenty of time. It  turned out to be one of the hardest days of the trip. We cycled into a relentless headwind all day. Our mindset of just getting to the farm didn't really help, it was brutal and not enjoyable in the slightest. I suppose at this point I must mention how hard it has been at times; I tend to write about the highlights of the trip, but on the bike there is some major low points. When it takes everything to keep going, the muscles are screaming, you feel as weak as a kitten, no energy, cyclists refer to it as hitting the wall, and when this happens it isn't fun at all. Thats why I feel a great sense of pride and achievement in this trip, I think subconsciously this has already made me a stronger person, both physically and mentally. It has also made me hate the wind more than I ever thought would be possible for a graduate of geography.

Anyway, by about 4pm we made it here and we are very happy with our current living situation. All our worries about whether WWOOF would work out have been completely dismissed. We really didn't know what to expect. The scheme is simply: a few hours work on a farm will be rewarded with accomodation and food. Obviously the variables with this can get the mind racing.

Upon arrival we were fed straight away, then we had a much needed shower. Our hosts couldn't be more welcoming; Peter and Laila, originally from Switzerland had moved here 19 years and have set up an ogranic farm producing goats cheese. After a delicious meal with the family we then had a tour of the farm. Set in the rolling hills (a nightmare to cycle through), its such a picturesque landscape. They have 67 goats, which we have to milk in the morning, then a selection of donkeys, horses, dogs, cats and fish.

 The main building expands far further than I can fit into a picture, but you can just about see our appartment through the bushes (the balcony leads into it). We really couldn't ask for more. Me and Sam have been given our own appartment for the stay, complete with double beds, Tv - with french sky, internet and much more to make us run around like giddy kids when we realised how lucky we had been. You can see for yourselves below...

If all of this wasn't enough, they have given us a car! Check out this bad boy. A vintage ford mondeo estate! Because Sam was silly enough to have his wallet nicked in Brussels, complete with his drivers license, I have to do all of the driving. What an unfortunate pleasure that has been.

The final jewel in the crown of this farm lies with their dogs. A mother and daughter working pair of Border Collies. I think they are the bubbliest, smartest and cutest dogs I've ever come across. On our first morning milking goats we were shocked when without cue, they kicked into action and rounded all of the goats up for us. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I naively thought they were just pets. But look how cute...

I plan on doing a post every 4-5 days from now, although we are now in one location for the next 6 weeks, we plan on taking full advantage of having a car and exploring the area to the full extent. But for now, we have stumbled across a french channel showing the football. Sam is Manu obsessed and screamed like a little girl when he found a channel that was showing the match, we had planned on using a crappy internet link. But for now, Come on Chelsea!

DAY 25-31

So another delayed blog post, but with no internet connection for over a week its easy to see why. I'm in the best of moods as this week has gone like a dream. We've had hot weather all week, no major issues with the bike or body, and some of the best cycling conditions of my life.

The landscape of france has really changed over the last few days, we've mainly been cycling through The Rhone valley, en route to Montpellier, and its noticeable how much drier and arid the land has become, it really feels like you're in Northern Spain rather than France. The temperature reaches a toasty 28 degrees most days with no chance of rainfall.

I am struggling to remember most of the minor details of the last week or so, all I can really do is point out the 'highlights'. Six days is just a bit too long without an entry and I've only myself to blame, but when you're having so much fun its hard to beat yourself up about it.

We are now in the city of Nimes at a lovely hostel just on the outskirts. Our main reason for coming to the hostel was football. We've managed without a wash, a bed or electric for six days but we just can't go without a bit of football for that length of time. Our plan has worked exquisitely as last night we watched Tottenham get an unfortunate battering, and hopefully tonight Manu and the neanderthal Wayne rooney will get the same.

It must be said that the wild camping is getting better and better as time progresses, just 2 nights ago we pitched our tent next to the Gard ou Gardon river (shown below) and managed to have a cold, but wonderful swim. We managed to catch a few rays before night fall and sam captured it perfectly on camera. I mean look at those tan lines, ridiculous.


We continue to get caught out by the lazy french on sundays, they literally close everything down. We never really keep track of what day it is and were a bit baffled as to why nowhere was open. Then we realised it was a sunday and started to panic a bit regarding where we would find water. As the day went on we both ran out around mid afternoon and I drank a bit from a village water fountain (a low point). Luckily, we found a small bread shop where we could get a baguette, and just as we were leaving the woman noticed what we were doing and brought us out a big bag of crouissants, no charge. We also managed to get the sacred 6 litres of water that we so desperately required.

Another couple of pictures that need a bit of explanation are shown below. You might notice I'm wearing a Liverpool shirt. I obviously support Hull but this shirt has served two purposes; firstly, it was cheap (7 quid) and is as good as any cyling shirt on the market, and secondly, it annoys my dad. Just after this was taken it got very very hot and my ipod died on me. It was my fault as I was basically sticking it down my pants with no pockets to put it in, and the sweat had leaked into the ipod and blown it up. A bit annoying but quite funny. I think I actually prefer to just let my thoughts wander when on the bike and just take in my new surroundings. Some of these thoughts have led to the decision that I'm going to cycle back through the UK instead of getting picked up at Dover. It would be such a cool way to round off the trip; to reconnect with England and also meet up with a bunch of friends from 'ACE' along the way.

We reached a big milestone yesterday by passing the one thousand mile mark! I just noticed it on the cycle computer and got all excited. When I think about it, one thousand miles is a long way, and to do that just using a few muscles and a bit of steel is quite an achievement.

I must also share the lowest point of the trip, and possibly my entire life before this post ends, however. On our 4th day wild camping we'd finished a long day on the bike, having cycled just shy of 100km, and everything was sweaty and dirty. I had to venture into the woods to answer natures call, and whilst squatting like a dog to take a poo, the feet can accidently intrude on the location of the poo, and led to the lowest point of my life. Basically, I shat on my foot. With no hot shower or even running water to clean myself, I had to make do with baby wipes.

On that note, its time to conclude this weeks events. We're in Nimes for another night and planning on getting to the farm by the weekend. I wish we had longer to discover Nimes, its a really beautiful city with some well preserved classical buildings from the Roman Empire. We briefly met a couple of Americans last night who were here working with the church of Jesus Christ. It was strange to meet them, as I'm a firm atheist and believe religion is the root of all evil, but I really liked them. Meeting them reminded me of a famous quote by Steven Weinberg: "With or without religion, you'd have good people doing good things and evil people doing bad things, but for good people to do bad things, it takes religion". I suppose this quote isn't really that applicable as they weren't fundamentalist terrorists, but still. They were nice and it was good to meet them, I just wish I could have chatted to them for longer about why they believe the Earth is 5,000 years old.

Thanks for a few comments last week, its nice to know who's following. According to my blog statistics I've had well over a thousand page views which baffled me, I only thought it was a handful of friends and family that were following, but keep them coming!

Day 22 - 24

Before we left Lausanne we managed to squeeze in a few beers. One thing that must be mentioned is the outragious prices in Switzerland. It really is unbelievable that they can charge seven francs (five pounds) for a large beer and get away with it. We moved from bar to bar in the aim of a cheaper pint but everywhere was the same. In our quest to find cheaper drinks we got quite lost, in my naivety I asked a group of girls for directions and it turned out they were all prostitutes! One of them knew enough english to ask "you want a fuck baby?". I gave her a firm no but insisted my friend sam might. Filthy cretins.

The next morning we were back on the road, we were blessed with amazing weather and a view of the lake for the majority of the day but I really wasn't feeling up to it after a night on the beer. We still put in a good shift and pitched our tent in a farmers field outside a town called Divonne. By the end of the day we'd stumbled back into France which was a relief. As beautiful as Switzerland is you would not want to live there, unless you had a few million in the bank for your weekly groceries.

Apart from a muddy start to the day, day 23 went like an absolute dream. After a map inspection it appeared we would have another mountain climb in store, that is unless you have a genius map navigator such as yours truly. We manged to cycle through valleys all day and it was beautiful. By 6pm we had done around 80km and decided to pitch up by a river that was just hidden from the road. I thought it was quite a nice spot but sam is really scared of 'creepy crawlies' and hated it. There was quite an issue with slugs I must admit, but it was free!

If this was a journal, day 24 would read: Rained off. But because this is a blog, I suppose I should expand a little. We still managed 50km, but its just so depressing cycling in the rain. We're in no rush and when we saw a sign for a campsite at about 4pm niether of us could resist. So we shall get everything washed and charged and hope for better weather tomorrow. In the meantime, its time for... Oohhh, Chimpanzee that mokey news!!

oh and please leave comments :-) 

Day 14 - 21

Just a quick update before we can get stuck into an action packed week on the road; we are currently in Lausanne, Switzerland. Its unbelievably beautiful (go on.... have a look on google images). We've had a rough day today, Sam has been having troubles with his bike and another spoke broke earlier on today so we had to make a dash to get to a city. I must give an advanced warning that this is will be a long blog post, but its full of incident and I urge the reader to follow it through! Enjoy! 

My wonderful Dawes Galaxy chilling next to a tank in Bastogne!

(Day 14)

After a well needed couple of days rest we were back on track and managed to get out of Luxembourg City by midday after abusing the free breakfast once again. We figured we could easily get into France by the end of the day and pick a spot to camp for the night.

Our first impressions of France were good; when crossing into a different European country (in the West) there’s rarely any fuss or immediate difference that we notice, it’ll be gradual differences that sneak in when you cycle through the villages and towns and begin to notice the change in culture.

The rural area of France seemed very, very quiet. Villages are compact but lack any basic amenities that we needed. We must have cycled through 15 villages without seeing a shop as we were low on water. By about 5pm we still hadn’t found a shop to pick up any water and we were getting a bit nervous. We only needed a couple of litres to cook and wash with but it seemed crazy that no-where was open and our good initial impressions of France were quickly diminishing into ‘lazy French bastards... too lazy to even open a shop’. In all seriousness if any young entrepreneurs read this, set up a branch of shops, similar to a Costcutter, Spa etc, and base your shops in small, rural areas in France and you would make an absolute killing. You may ruin a quiet, localised village culture but you’d be rich.... so swings and roundabouts.

With daylight fading we eventually made it to a town which looked big enough on the map to almost certainly have some sort of shop or garage that would sell water... Nothing. We asked a man in the street if he knew where we could find water – didn’t speak a word of English. It was the first major language barrier we had noticed in the trip, so far through Holland, Belgium and Luxembourg, seemingly everyone knew some English. But we managed to get across that we needed water and he seemed disappointed that he couldn’t help us. So we cycled on into the dead town where nothing was open and it felt like impending doom was approaching, a great start to wild camping. Then out of nowhere, the guy we had spoken to 10 minutes ago had tracked us down in his car and frantically beeped at us holding a 2 litre bottle of water. What a hero! We thanked him as best we could in French: “MERCI MERCI” and then as he drove off we headed out of town to find somewhere to camp for the night.

All we were looking for was somewhere flat and out of sight, we managed to find this quite soon after the town, a grass area just off the road, hidden behind a few bushes with a dirt track leading to it. Just as we were about to pitch the tent we noticed a few white boxes stacked next to each other, then we realised it was a Bee farm! Thousands of them were swarming about; luckily we spotted them before we pitched up otherwise a nightmare would have fallen upon us. Finally, a few miles on we reached a wooded area that was perfect, so we made our way into the woods and pitched the tent. 

Happy happy!

The next 2 or 3 days went like a dream. The weather was unbelievable for mid-march. At the hottest part of the day it would reach around 24°C. The cyclists tan was taking its toll. Cycling shorts cling down so tightly onto the thigh that whatever skin is exposed will burn and then form a beautiful contrast between red and white. The Atkins’ nose also took a battering, wearing a helmet and sunglasses covers up the top part of my face, and then my beard protects the lower half, so it’s literally just the nose that is always in the sun. I looked such an idiot when I eventually looked into a mirror about 3 days after.

Wild camping also became easier and easier, after 5pm we would usually just start looking for potential spots and then have a quick look around to check the coast is clear, and then pitch the tent.We came across the Frenchs generosity of spirit once again when we failed in our quest to find water. We cycled into a small village and decided to ask anyone we could where we could find it. 2 minutes later we were having a discussion in French with an old lady who was gardening. I was embarrassed about the lack of French I could remember, it really was shocking. “Aqua?” we would say and then a spool of French would hit us and leave us blank. The only solution in this situation is to politely smile and nod. Anyway, she disappeared into her home and returned with 4 litres of water and a French baguette for us to take. How nice is that? It’s what I love about travelling; getting an understanding of the people and the cultures that go on behind the tourist environments that hide all of this.

By the 4^th day in France we had made really good progress and managed to wild camp every night.  However, cycling 6 hours in the sunshine everyday with no shower at the end of it starts to take its toll on the body. Some questionable smells arose from the sleeping bag in the morning so we thought it was time to hit a campsite. We lucked out when we did eventually find one: 4.50€ each, hot showers, electric next to the tent, perfect. The feeling of walking out into the sunshine after a shower that has cleaned 4 days worth of dirt and sweat is too good for words. We had also had a really tough day on the bike and had reached a town called Maiche, just west from the Swiss border.

One thing I did see that day is a fat woman falling flat on her face outside a supermarket. It’s not the type of thing which I would usually mention, but after the initial ‘woah, is she okay?’I realised that the reason she had fallen over was because she had too much food in her bag and couldn’t carry it properly. When she fell over packets of biscuits rolled out onto the path and I just felt really sad. I thought is that what her life has come too? She was probably mid 30’s, trying to get her daily fix of biscuits and cake, to then have it all crash down in front of her with dozens of people watching. Go for a run.

Food for us is interesting though, I think we’ve had Chile con carne for the last 6 nights in a row, but what a meal! I used to loathe this meal as a kid. I thought kidney beans were the devils unborn seeds. But it’s amazing; we can do the full meal for less than 2 Euros. It fills us up and keeps us nice and regular for the morning toilet fix. Aside from that, it’s been plenty of bread, salami, chocolate, fruit, and whatever else is cheap.

The next day brought our biggest challenge yet: A Swiss Mountain Climb! I’d been excited about this all week. I knew it would probably be the hardest days cycling of my life, but I didn’t care. It’s a cyclists dream and I was definitely up for the challenge.

The day started well, great weather once again and we crossed into Switzerland early on. Fittingly, the border between France and Switzerland was a lake. And then our ascent began. It would be 20km until we reached the snowy top, 20km of relentless winding roads that didn’t flatten out for a second. It sounds bizarre, but with this sort of cycling you need to get ‘in the zone’ and just focus on the pedalling and not to think for a moment about how hard it is.  The second you feel sorry for yourself is when you’ll get distracted and stop for a drink and then take 10 minutes to get going again. The mind wanders so much with this type of cycling; I thought about my dogs, my girlfriend, future cycling trips, quotes from the office, and then everything and anything in between. Then, 2 hours into the ascent, Sam heard a twang from the back wheel and realised a spoke had snapped. This was a disaster. I’d been nervous about this happening to my bike as spokes are the one thing I literally have no idea how to repair. A wheel of a bike relies on the even pull and tension of every spoke and to fix it means hours of tweaking and tuning – if you know what you’re doing. Once again I felt bad for Sam as he’s not had the best of luck with his bike, just a day earlier one of the front frames had fallen off which took an hour to do a DIY job. So I couldn’t help but laugh when I heard another of his Northern rants about everything going wrong. All we could do was nervously limp in to the closest town and hope they had a bike shop with somebody who knew a little English and had a few hours spare. We managed to get there in about an hour and through a few locals directions we found a bike shop. Luckily, it was a tiny shop with a guy who could help, but he certainly did not speak English. We think he was Italian, and after assessing the situation all he could say was ‘Catastrophe!’ It did take him about 2 hours to fix and I don’t think I’ve ever been so bored in my life. Sam didn’t say a word as he was so nervous about his bike, and I just had to stand and wait in the tiniest and darkest bike shop in the whole of Switzerland.

Anyway, by about 4pm the bike was fixed much to our relief. We thought by reaching this town we had reached the top of the mountain. We hadn’t. It took about another hour to climb to the top, which as it turned out was a ski resort! There was snow at the top, but not enough for the resort to be fully functional. It was pretty incredible that we had cycled to an Alps ski resort if I do say so myself.

Now for the downhill! It’s difficult to express the sheer joy and adrenaline rush that occurs when cycling down a mountain through words. However, two words spring to mind that will not please my dad. Fucking amazing. We spent all day climbing, and then experienced the lows of the bike breaking, to the ultimate high of hurtling down a mountain at about 45mph for 10 minutes. My jaw ached from the constant grin I had all the way down. If you can picture some of the classic James Bond car chases through the Swiss Alps then you’re almost there. But I was, and I felt like James frigging Bond. 

I've fallen in love with this bike (and Switzerland).

Within 10 minutes we had done 15km and reached the lakeside city of Neuchatel. We didn’t really follow a map once we saw the lake, we just thought, we’re getting to that lake. It was so nice to sit by the lake for 20 minutes after such a long day, but at this point it was about 6pm and we still had nowhere to sleep for the night. We followed some signs for a campsite, when we got there we looked around for someone to pay, but we couldn’t find anybody, so we just sneaked on to the site and pitched the tent near to the lake!

We woke up after another free nights camping and the plan for the day was to head as far as we could towards Lausanne (the place Sam is having his new credit card sent to). We managed to escape the city reasonably quickly and make good progress. Once again we were blessed with a wonderful backdrop of the snowy Alps. Although today was different, after three weeks on the road neither of us had listened to music whilst we’ve been cycling, but the route seemed straight forward enough so we thought we’d plug in the old ipods. It made such a difference; I’ve obviously cycled listening to music before, but when its cycling through Switzerland with the Alps in the corner of your eye it’s different. We’re both debating what genre or artist is most fitting, but for today I’m sticking with The Beatles, I think it’s fair to say they’re the best band of all time, and what better way to enjoy their music. 

This was taken in France, but its a nice picture.

 Next on the agenda is Montpellier. We've arranged to get there for the 14th april to milk goats for 6 weeks! We get free accomodation, food and a car to explore the south of France, and my wonderful girlfriend is planning a visit when we arrive there. Good times.