This was my third time guiding a group of cyclist between Paris and Istanbul, and this was a finish to remember. In years past we have convoyed the last 23 km down the Bosphorus into Ortakoy. Istanbul and its suburbs were not designed with cyclists in mind. But this year we arrived in style.
The final stage of the tour was a 52 km ride through the lush rolling hills of Turkey. We collected all 41 riders and staff where the hills descended to meet the sea. As each rider rolled across the finish line there were hugs, tears, and photos to commemorate this monumental achievement. Over the last 50 days these two wheeled adventurers traversed 4000 km across eight European countries. When all were present and after quick feed we boarded our fine vessel, the Naim Baba, and sailed into this spectacular international metropolis. While battling traffic its much more difficult to appreciate the magnificence of the waterfront. But this year we were kick’in it on the upper deck of our private boat embracing our cycling comrades with drinks in hand. The voyage lead us past castles, mosques and affluent real estate of the world’s rich and famous. From our dock in Ortakoy it was only a 2 min walk through the pedestrian mall to our hotel to unpack all the gear for one final time. With a group of fifty checking in and parking bikes simultaneously is chaotic, but the madness was short-lived.
Our final banquet dinner was in Taksim at a bizarre restaurant garden, overgrown with lemon trees. The evening was filled with a fabulous feast, speeches and a slide show to reminisce on this epic journey, truly a grand finale.
Many of the participants are staying in Istanbul for several days to explore the history and culture of this city which has been the capital of several empires. Others had a rushed departure, but a select few will continue to peddle east all the way to Beijing and I wish them nothing but sunshine and tailwinds. The conclusion of these tours invokes a contradiction of emotions; pride, for a monumental personal achievement and sorrow to say goodbye to new friends who we’ve shared the moments with. I look forward to the next time our paths will cross.
Til then, keep the rubber side down.
This was my third time guiding a group of cyclist between Paris and Istanbul, and this was a finish to remember. In years past we have convoyed the last 23 km down the Bosphorus into Ortakoy. Istanbul and its suburbs were not designed with cyclists in mind. But this year we arrived in style.
The final stage of the tour was a 52 km ride through the lush rolling hills of Turkey. We collected all 41 riders and staff where the hills descended to meet the sea. As each rider rolled across the finish line there were hugs, tears, and photos to commemorate this monumental achievement. Over the last 50 days these two wheeled adventurers traversed 4000 km across eight European countries. When all were present and after quick feed we boarded our fine vessel, the Naim Baba, and sailed into this spectacular international metropolis. While battling traffic its much more difficult to appreciate the magnificence of the waterfront. But this year we were kick’in it on the upper deck of our private boat embracing our cycling comrades with drinks in hand. The voyage lead us past castles, mosques and affluent real estate of the world’s rich and famous. From our dock in Ortakoy it was only a 2 min walk through the pedestrian mall to our hotel to unpack all the gear for one final time. With a group of fifty checking in and parking bikes simultaneously is chaotic, but the madness was short-lived.
Our final banquet dinner was in Taksim at a bizarre restaurant garden, overgrown with lemon trees. The evening was filled with a fabulous feast, speeches and a slide show to reminisce on this epic journey, truly a grand finale.
Many of the participants are staying in Istanbul for several days to explore the history and culture of this city which has been the capital of several empires. Others had a rushed departure, but a select few will continue to peddle east all the way to Beijing and I wish them nothing but sunshine and tailwinds. The conclusion of these tours invokes a contradiction of emotions; pride, for a monumental personal achievement and sorrow to say goodbye to new friends who we’ve shared the moments with. I look forward to the next time our paths will cross.
Til then, keep the rubber side down.
It has definitely been an easier trip for me the second time around; not worrying about getting lost and knowing what to expect certainly makes it much easier to plan for what is coming.
Feeding 50 people from a campsite is always challenging though, regardless. Whether it is standing over a stove in the hot sun, or trying to source out commodities that people in the group have become accustomed to and which simply aren’t available in each country we pass through. It makes it all worth it to see the smiles and get that handful of ‘thank you’s’ at the end of the day.
So here we are 2 days from the finish and I’m trying to figure out what to make for dinner tomorrow night as some sort of grand finale. Maybe a buffet, or a spit-roasted lamb, I think there is a fish-monger up the street…I should probably get back to work. Til then.
-Jonathan Shepheard
It has definitely been an easier trip for me the second time around; not worrying about getting lost and knowing what to expect certainly makes it much easier to plan for what is coming.
Feeding 50 people from a campsite is always challenging though, regardless. Whether it is standing over a stove in the hot sun, or trying to source out commodities that people in the group have become accustomed to and which simply aren't available in each country we pass through. It makes it all worth it to see the smiles and get that handful of 'thank you's' at the end of the day.
So here we are 2 days from the finish and I'm trying to figure out what to make for dinner tomorrow night as some sort of grand finale. Maybe a buffet, or a spit-roasted lamb, I think there is a fish-monger up the street...I should probably get back to work. Til then.
Jonathan Shepheard
Apres avoir chante dernierement les louanges de l Allemagne et de l Autriche, je vais essayer de vous rendre compte de la situation cycliste dans les ex pays de l Est. En quittant Vienne, nous sommes brievement passes en Slovaquie, pour arriver en Hongrie. Ce pays est en pleine reconstruction et il agreable de voir que les pistes cyclables sont aménagées en même temps que les routes sont refaites. En Roumanie la situation est bien différente, la voiture est reine. Les cyclistes doivent faire preuve d’une vigilance accrue en ville et sur les grandes routes. Il en est de même en Bulgarie. Mais la situation devrait changer rapidement, le coût du carburant ne cesse d’augmenter, le nombre trajets non-impératifs va sûrement diminuer et le vélo va devenir un mode de locomotion économique (ce qui semble déjà être le cas en campagne). Le porte-monnaie devient le meilleur soutien de l’écologie… dommage que ce soit les bas-salaires qui soient contraint à y contribuer.
Remarque : en attendant l’administration américaine repousse sine die toutes décisions concernant les gaz à effets de serre… dans les pays riches, l’écologie peut attendre.”
- Olivier Thudor
So this would appear to be the year of half tours for me. First, Arusha to Cape Town and now, Budapest to Istanbul. There are many challenges in joining a tour at the halfway point. My biggest struggle is trying to learn everyone’s name. This is the largest group ever for the Orient Express. In just less than week we will cross the finish line in Istanbul with nearly fifty cyclists and staff.
Right now we are enjoying a day of rest in Varna, Bulgaria. This place is a hidden gem. Since we entered this country our route has led us through the rolling hills of agriculture and primary industry. Picturesque fields of sunflowers, where many of the locals still travel by horse and buggy. But Varna is a beach resort town on the Black Sea. Our hotel is right in the middle of pedestrian mall so the all the action is right out the front door. Its only a two minute walk to the water. The boardwalk is lined with restaurants and bars and the nightlife lasts until the sun rises. There is always music on the streets from the eccentric collection of street entertainers. The beaches are endless, the water is warm and apparently the clothing is optional. We should have two rest days here.
Two days from now we will cross into Turkey our final country of the tour. Last year we had temperatures of nearly 50 degrees. But the forecast is much more favourable for us. Although the end draws near, cycle touring is all about the journey not the destination. I must admit I’m envious of those who will keep cycling all the way to Beijing.
So this would appear to be the year of half tours for me. First, Arusha to Cape Town and now, Budapest to Istanbul. There are many challenges in joining a tour at the halfway point. My biggest struggle is trying to learn everyone’s name. This is the largest group ever for the Orient Express. In just less than week we will cross the finish line in Istanbul with nearly fifty cyclists and staff.
Right now we are enjoying a day of rest in Varna, Bulgaria. This place is a hidden gem. Since we entered this country our route has led us through the rolling hills of agriculture and primary industry. Picturesque fields of sunflowers, where many of the locals still travel by horse and buggy. But Varna is a beach resort town on the Black Sea. Our hotel is right in the middle of pedestrian mall so the all the action is right out the front door. Its only a two minute walk to the water. The boardwalk is lined with restaurants and bars and the nightlife lasts until the sun rises. There is always music on the streets from the eccentric collection of street entertainers. The beaches are endless, the water is warm and apparently the clothing is optional. We should have two rest days here.
Two days from now we will cross into Turkey our final country of the tour. Last year we had temperatures of nearly 50 degrees. But the forecast is much more favourable for us. Although the end draws near, cycle touring is all about the journey not the destination. I must admit I’m envious of those who will keep cycling all the way to Beijing.
Apres avoir chante dernierement les louanges de l Allemagne et de l Autriche, je vais essayer de vous rendre compte de la situation cycliste dans les ex pays de l Est. En quittant Vienne, nous sommes brievement passes en Slovaquie, pour arriver en Hongrie. Ce pays est en pleine reconstruction et il agreable de voir que les pistes cyclables sont aménagées en même temps que les routes sont refaites. En Roumanie la situation est bien différente, la voiture est reine. Les cyclistes doivent faire preuve d’une vigilance accrue en ville et sur les grandes routes. Il en est de même en Bulgarie. Mais la situation devrait changer rapidement, le coût du carburant ne cesse d’augmenter, le nombre trajets non-impératifs va sûrement diminuer et le vélo va devenir un mode de locomotion économique (ce qui semble déjà être le cas en campagne). Le porte-monnaie devient le meilleur soutien de l’écologie… dommage que ce soit les bas-salaires qui soient contraint à y contribuer.
Remarque : en attendant l’administration américaine repousse sine die toutes décisions concernant les gaz à effets de serre… dans les pays riches, l’écologie peut attendre."
- Olivier Thudor
We will not miss the bad tempered automobile drivers, thundering trucks, poor neglected dogs or Luminati, the proprietress at the only accommodation in Dragodana who, no matter how much money we tried to throw at her, refused to let us pitch our tents on her weed infested patch of grass for one night. We never did find out the reason for her vehement stubbornness, but immediately abandoned all manipulation when she relented to the idea of a slumber party in the large, dilapidated reception area. After another one of Chef Jon’s sublime meals, the bleak floor was soon covered with sleeping mats as 45 weary bodies jostled for space and some semblance of slumber.
We WILL miss its unpretentiousness and the gentle, quizzical, salt of the earth rural folk who were so kind to so many of us along the road.
The mercury kept rising, and peaked at 45 degrees on the day we rode into Bucharest. Accompanied by a lone traffic officer on a motorbike, the riders braved the hectic traffic and potholed roads that led to the hotel. Pretty swish by Romanian standards, it had an elevator on the outside of the building which afforded a grand view of Ceausescu’s “Palace of the People”… the second largest building in the world after the Pentagon. Renamed “Parliament Place” after the demise of communism, it is now used for parliamentary sessions but most of the 3000 rooms stand empty. Overall, the city feels a bit like a tired old tart smoking a cigar on top of a demolition site. What was left of the old city – and there are some beautiful old buildings – is hemmed in by crumbling communist era buildings, many of which are covered by enormous fabric billboards. A most intriguing sight to see one crumbling ideology (communism) being gift wrapped by another, flimsier one (capitalism).
We crossed the border into Bulgaria yesterday and spent our first night outside the town of Russe in a beautiful campsite around a lake. It was time for the second Talent Show of the tour and we were entertained and delighted by a handful of the riders who recited poetry and sang ballads and songs. The highlight had to be the performance by Janice and Stewart, who belted out their rendition of ‘My Way’. Feel free to sing along….!
And so the time has come for me to take a trip to Turkey
Along a rugged road, Orient Express, the name is quirky
With maps and written notes I’ve followed each and every by-way
But more much more than that I’ve ridden my way
Detours, I’ve had a few, but then again too few to mention
I’ve closely followed notes which made me lose my direction
But when the camp is near or someone calls “It’s your dish day’
There’s more, much more than this, I’ve ridden my way
I’ve ridden plains and I’ve climbed hills
Passed fields of corn and bars with ales
I’ve read the signs to find the towns
I’ve done the ups and done the downs
I’ve ridden fast but still come last
I’ve ridden my way
In camp I pitch my tent away from those so fond of snoring
Dinner time, a big surprise, but nothing ever dull or boring
The lunch stop every day, a focal point along the highway
But more so more than this, I’ve ridden my way
For what is a man what has he got?
Two sore cheeks and one big spot
To ride the roads he really wants
Not just the usual local haunts
I took the chance to ride from France
And rode it my way
We will not miss the bad tempered automobile drivers, thundering trucks, poor neglected dogs or Luminati, the proprietress at the only accommodation in Dragodana who, no matter how much money we tried to throw at her, refused to let us pitch our tents on her weed infested patch of grass for one night. We never did find out the reason for her vehement stubbornness, but immediately abandoned all manipulation when she relented to the idea of a slumber party in the large, dilapidated reception area. After another one of Chef Jon’s sublime meals, the bleak floor was soon covered with sleeping mats as 45 weary bodies jostled for space and some semblance of slumber.
We WILL miss its unpretentiousness and the gentle, quizzical, salt of the earth rural folk who were so kind to so many of us along the road.
The mercury kept rising, and peaked at 45 degrees on the day we rode into Bucharest. Accompanied by a lone traffic officer on a motorbike, the riders braved the hectic traffic and potholed roads that led to the hotel. Pretty swish by Romanian standards, it had an elevator on the outside of the building which afforded a grand view of Ceausescu’s “Palace of the Peopleâ€... the second largest building in the world after the Pentagon. Renamed “Parliament Place†after the demise of communism, it is now used for parliamentary sessions but most of the 3000 rooms stand empty. Overall, the city feels a bit like a tired old tart smoking a cigar on top of a demolition site. What was left of the old city – and there are some beautiful old buildings – is hemmed in by crumbling communist era buildings, many of which are covered by enormous fabric billboards. A most intriguing sight to see one crumbling ideology (communism) being gift wrapped by another, flimsier one (capitalism).
We crossed the border into Bulgaria yesterday and spent our first night outside the town of Russe in a beautiful campsite around a lake. It was time for the second Talent Show of the tour and we were entertained and delighted by a handful of the riders who recited poetry and sang ballads and songs. The highlight had to be the performance by Janice and Stewart, who belted out their rendition of ‘My Way’. Feel free to sing along....!
And so the time has come for me to take a trip to Turkey
Along a rugged road, Orient Express, the name is quirky
With maps and written notes I’ve followed each and every by-way
But more much more than that I’ve ridden my way
Detours, I’ve had a few, but then again too few to mention
I’ve closely followed notes which made me lose my direction
But when the camp is near or someone calls “It’s your dish day’
There’s more, much more than this, I’ve ridden my way
I’ve ridden plains and I’ve climbed hills
Passed fields of corn and bars with ales
I’ve read the signs to find the towns
I’ve done the ups and done the downs
I’ve ridden fast but still come last
I’ve ridden my way
In camp I pitch my tent away from those so fond of snoring
Dinner time, a big surprise, but nothing ever dull or boring
The lunch stop every day, a focal point along the highway
But more so more than this, I’ve ridden my way
For what is a man what has he got?
Two sore cheeks and one big spot
To ride the roads he really wants
Not just the usual local haunts
I took the chance to ride from France
And rode it my way
