It is midday. We are somewhere between the exquisite medieval French champagne communes of Provins and Xertigney. The temperature is around 15 degrees, perhaps? Whatever. It is spring in France. And it is cold. And wet. The rain has been pelting down for four days now and I am on lunch truck duty. One by one, the bedraggled riders roll into the half way mark for the day. “Anybody got any marijuana?” “Isn’t it GREAT to see some rain again?” “Are we having fun, yet?” “I didn’t sign up for this rain.” “Why is there no more peanut butter?” As Chef Jon remarked, “Lunch brings out the best and worst in everyone.” Reactions to the first week on the road in France range from gung-ho hard core “I’ve- been -round- the- world- on- a- bike” to “Where- is- the- hair dryer?” But, give them their due, when it comes to priorities, this bunch of (predominantly) baby boomers knows exactly what to do when it comes to keeping their bruschetta, camembert and rocket sandwiches from getting soggy! Having travelled just over 500 kms from Paris, through some of France’s most fabulous towns and villages on highways, byways and cycling paths, we are in the commune of Munster tonight. At this point, I take everything back that I said about the stereotypical Frenchie! On lunch today, just outside the stunning town of La Bresse, we parked the lunch truck at the bottom of a 15 km, 1139m climb up to Clos de la Schlucht. As we put up the gazebo, a woman from a beautiful guest house across the road came over to find out what was going on. Her name was Anka Krizmanic and she alerted the media, fortified us with fantastic stories, coffee and chocolate, great French music, a vase of exquisite lupins on our step ladder and the gift of ‘ubuntu’ as we call it in Africa. Anka, it was great to meet you! Thank you for the gifts and blessings. And if anyone is ever thinking of staying in La Bresse, be sure to contact her on k.ankal@orange.fr. While the daily distances have ranged between 90 and 130 kms and the mist and the rain has been unrelenting, none of it has managed to drown the spirits of the 2008 OE expedition riders. Yet...! We have it on good authority from Janice of Australia that the best we can expect for the next while is “Pas beaucoup du soleil” which translates into “Not a lot of sun”. I asked a couple of the riders what some of their highlights have been so far. For Big Don from America, drinking coke out of a real glass bottle and not a can did it for him. Garris from New Zealand raved about the undulations from Chaumont to Xertigney. Manon, Graham and Nicole from Australia belted down a hill and through a sleepy village reaching a top speed of 60 kms. Some of Duncan’s fondest memories include “Peas, grapes, orchids, poppies. The Julien Canal cycle path. Meandering through lush country fields and villages. Favourable winds. Superb meals. Light traffic. Champagne tasting. The rest of the day was history!” For all of us, it’s the joy of experiencing first hand a soupcon of the 36 000 villages or ‘communes’ that exist in France. It’s stopping in at a 200 year old brasserie or pattiserie and savouring what the French do so well – food and beverage. But with only a day left in the land of cheese, bread and wine, I hope that someone listens to Kurt’s suggestion and switches the sun back on. Soon.

A gentle mist cloaked the city as Jon and I drove the tour trucks down Rue La Fayette to the hotel at Gare de l' est to meet the riders and load the baggage. At 6:00 am the sleepy, Sunday streets of Paris yawned and stretched as proprietors unlocked cafes and shops and positioned and displayed their cafe tables and chairs, fruit and veges, bread and croissants. The heady aroma of freshly filtered coffee wafted across intersections and through the open window of my truck. As I came to a stop at a traffic light, I looked up to admire the ubiquitous red geraniums in clay pots on the balconies of the charming apartment buildings. A woman on the third floor, in her silk pyjamas, pulled open her wooden shutters to let in the early morning light. We smiled at each other and in that instant I resolved to do the same myself one day. To return to this incredible city and languidly open a beautiful old pair of wooden shutters to plan yet another day in Paris! So, advice to future Orient Express riders: give yourselves at least a week to bike this beautiful city if you haven’t done so before! As we pulled into the parking bays outside the hotel, we were greeted by the impressive sight of 40 gorgeous looking spandex clad cyclists all making final checks to their bikes and bike bags on the pavement. Raring to hit the road, passerby tourists snapped away as the riders made their way to corner for the start of the expedition. And then. The moment happened. Duncan, our tour co-leader shouted ‘Ha So Hi Ho’ and with that, the Orient Express Bicycle Expedition of 2008 was officially on the road! The first part of the day’s ride took in some of the most famous landmarks of the city. We cycled down Boulevard de Magenta, passing the Place de Republique and the Bastille, crossed the Seine River from where we got our first glimpse of the majestic Notre Dame cathedral. While High Mass was being conducted inside, a bunny-rabbit clad busker amused us on the outside for a few moments. While his earnest monologue was as unintelligible as the latin sermon going on inside, I felt certain that the rabbit had picked his medium well and that the message was being transmitted and received at some level! Next stop was the Eiffel Tower, passing en route, the Musee D’Orsay, the Hotel des Invalides and Ecole Militaire. One magnificent, awe inspiring building after another, golden statues, golden domes, expansive gardens. Relics and reminders of the sheer abundance and wealth that existed in the city in days gone by. “It’s not hard to understand why they had a revolution here.” Remarked Stuart as we rode past the Palais de Chaillot. We did two laps around the Arc de Triomphe – the enormous chunk of beautifully composed and sculpted stone and then, as proud as any Tour de France rider, we charged down the Avenue Des Champs Elysees to the Place de la Concorde! As we passed the Musee Du Louvre, I clapped my hands twice, made a wish and dried my eyes as we said ‘merci’ and ‘au revoir’ to Paris! Heading out of Paris and riding through the surrounding ring of suburbs and commercial centres is much like being in any other western town anywhere in the world. Bad tempered automobile drivers, super markets, fitment centres, car dealerships, billboards, fast food outlets... but soon enough, we passed through the concrete jungle and by degrees, the road became quieter and the beauty of the French countryside welcomed and embraced us. Rolling green fields, ancient old trees, orange tiled roofs on old stone homes, elegant church spires, church bells ringing, birds singing... bliss. By late afternoon, after a fortunate last minute change of campsite, we rolled into a gorgeous guest farm in Chenoise and, as the smell of Chef Jon’s heavenly cooking wafted across the campsite, we toasted our first day with the fruit of the vine and started getting acquainted with each other. As the light dwindled and darkness surrounded us, the sound of tents zipping closed soon died down. And as sleep came, so too did the rain, the thunder and the lightening! Grinning deep inside of me, I snuggled down closer to the earth. Thanks boss! It doesn’t get better than this!

Paris. Nothing can prepare one for the first time. Breathtakingly stylish, elegant, beautiful, creative, intelligent, erotic, decadent.... it seduces and mesmerises instantaneously and then, you're done for. Insatiably smitten. 'It is a beautiful spot, Paris' mused fellow South African rider, Jaco Cotter, as he gazed at Gare de l'est, the magnificent railway station across the road from our hotel. 'But, jong, the people are stubborn!' We arrived in Paris after a magnificent 2000km, 3 day transit trip across Austria, Germany and France to discover that the hotel we use each year for the start of the expedition was under new management and had not computed that a group booking of cyclists might possibly involve bicycles too.  'Impossible.' said the new hotel manager. 'Non.  No bikes in rooms.  No bikes in foyer.  No bikes anywhere here.  D’Accord?'  We encountered stubborn, alright. Thanks to a dollop of steely diplomacy, which masked an equal if not more resolute streak of intractability, our tour co-leader, Shanny pulled it off and by the time the riders started arriving a space had been cleared out back for the assembly and storage of 40 bicycles. A rider briefing, bike assembly, last moment food shop and a baggage inspection filled our bustling, busy day.  The realisation that 46 of us are going to be sharing a magical two month journey with each other hit home.  The excitement is palpable. Some numbers: Female riders: 12 Male riders: 28 Canadians – 18,  Australians- 3, Americans - 9,  South Africans - 3, New Zealanders - 3,  British - 3, Swiss – 1;  Dutch – 1. The oldest rider: 81 The youngest rider: 27 Average rider age:  54

We have successfully completed our first leg of the tour; Paris to Chaumont, 296 km in 3 days. Everyone, staff and clients alike have had to make a transition to the lifestyle of cycle touring. It always takes a few days to figure out where everything goes, how to pack it and then you realize that you don’t actually need as much as you thought you did. There are friendships and bonds quickly forming between the cyclists as they have all found their riding buddies. The staff are fulfilling their roles and figuring out the daily routine. Even the weather has been extremely cooperative with only one evening of rain. Our first day began with a scenic tour of Paris where we traveled by bike path from the Gare de l’Est to the Cathedral of Notre Dame, the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triumph. Getting out of Paris is not easy with a group of 25 cyclists. Traffic of course, being our biggest obstacle. As we get further from the over crowded capital and into the rural communities the roads become less busy and we find ourselves spinning through some magical countryside. The villages are quaint and the riders have taken to stopping for coffee or even something a little more spirited. Our two stops were the towns of Provins and Troyes. Troyes is famous for its crooked buildings that have lost the ability to remain square over time. Leaving town we’ve traveled a cycleway that led us far from the beaten path around some beautiful lakes and forests thriving with waterfoul and tourists. Today everyone is enjoying their first rest day. They are sampling the local restaurants and tending to the chores of laundry, bike maintenance, and correspondence with their kin before we head out again tomorrow morning. Our next leg of the tour takes us to Germany where we will spend a day of rest in Frieburg. Before we cross the border we must pass through the Vosges mountain range. One of our stages we retrace part of the tour de France where we have an 18 km climb to the Col de Schlutt. It will be the first taste of real hills on this years’ tour.

Well the long journey to Istanbul is underway and the first 105 km are complete. The riders arrived in the small town (and UNESCO Heritage site) of Provins. A wonderful town that gives a real sense of the real France. The Tour Leader was ecstatic with the first day results: "So day one was a big success. Everything ran smoothly and as planned. Even the weather cooperated. Couldn't have asked for better start to the tour." stated Randy. Stay tuned to our website as you will see much ore regular updates now from the field, and well as some new photos every few days.

I am writing to you from Paris and we depart for Istanbul tomorrow. The last 10 days or so have been hectic but fun. I flew out of Toronto on the 24th and landed in Vienna. Then I lugged all my gear and tour supplies on the bus to Bratislava. I spent about four days there gathering my staff, vehicles and supplies. Piotr my mechanic (tour veteran) and Jon the chef, joined me there to help sort out the logistics. As expected, nothing ever turns out to be as simple as planned. Dealing with language barriers, foreign currencies and just locating everything was trying at times. My memories of the Slovakian capital from OE ‘05 were only of the industrial sector of town we rode through and the shopping mall. I spent most of my rest day there getting a couple of last minute clients decked out with a complete cycling kit. But this year my experience was far different. Henry put me in touch with some of his childhood and family friends who acted as translators for us. They invited me into their home for a traditional meal of roast chicken, potatoes and kale soup. Their home was an apartment in an old communist style high rise which was becoming decrepit from the outside but beautiful on the inside. After our feast we went into the old city and walked through the cobbled pedestrian mall. The historic architecture, cafes and bars lined the narrow entangled avenues. We stopped to sample some local ales, and I entertained them with stories of previous cycling expeditions. If you truly want to experience a foreign culture you must hangout with the locals. Our road trip from Bratislava to Paris was about 1800km in 3 days. We scouted the route, picked up the last of our provisions and tested out all of our new gear. Our chef Jon spoiled Piotr and myself with bbq’ed meats, homemade soups and fresh squeazed OJ. I think Miles might have some competition. There wasn’t much time for us to enjoy Paris as we were busy meeting our clients and briefing them on the adventure that awaits them. Everything has fallen into place nicely and other than the wet weather forecast I think we should have a great first leg of the tour.

Well the skies cleared yesterday afternoon long enough for most of us to dry out our tents and some of our wet clothes. Today has been scattered rain, and on a quiet Sunday in this beautiful town its a good day to dodge the rain in Internet cafes and at some of the fine restaurants. This morning some of the riders discovered that there is a mini bakery at the campsite so we all enjoyed some freshly baked baguettes and croissants with our coffee. Tomorrow we enter country number two on the eight country journey. Keep checking back for more updates, as the riders begin to share some of their thoughts from time to time.

Today we woke up in the rain and it looks like we will go to sleep in the rain as well. Huddled close to Miles - our cook - we waited out the rain under the canopy covering the meal being prepared in front of us. Since the rain wasn't letting up we asked and the campground allowed us to use the restaurant area to serve the meal. From duck risotto to spagetti bolognase to fajitas the meals have been of tremendous variety.