After 7 very fun and exciting weeks of cycling across Europe, the Orient Express cyclists successfully completed their journey by cycling to the shore of the Bosphoros in Istanbul!  Our last days greeted us with very high temperatures and lots of hills, but nothing would stand in the way of the determined set of riders, who have continually looked out for each throughout the trip, and everyone made sure that no one would be left behind.  In the early afternoon of July 18^th the group boarded the Naim Baba boat, which then took them on a pleasant cruise down the Bosphorous towards the Ortakoy district of Istanbul and our hotel.  While sipping beers on deck and feeling the wind against them, the cyclists reminisced over the time spent together these last months, and perhaps dreamt of future cycling tours that they may endeavor to partake in.  So, warm wishes to all our Orient Express participants, and a thorough congratulations on cycling the entirety of Europe.  Until the next ride…

 

The Donau River separates the countries of Romania and Bulgaria.  Somewhat surprisingly, there is only 1 bridge linking the 2 countries by road.  This bridge, dutifully named the “Friendship Bridge” brought our Orient Express riders into the 7^th country to be visited on this trip. 

 

Our first destination in Bulgaria was the Ribarska Kobila campsite, situated in the vicinity of the town of Ruse… however, upon arriving at the campsite, the driver of the Tour vehicle met the campsite owner, named George.  Mildly intoxicated, George was able to speak a few words of English to explain that this was indeed the Ribarska Kobila, he then pointed to a brownish field containing early communist era cabanas; the sense of gloom on the land evoked thoughts of abandonment, or at least of a place where time has ceased to be noticed.  George’s assistant, who appeared sincere, kind and cross-eyed, led the driver around the campsite, while humming what could perhaps be a Bulgarian hymn, the morose sound melting into the air.  With few words it was decided between driver, George, and the assistant that this was not such a place for camping any longer, but a place to sit quietly, descending into utter intoxication, with no plans or motives. 

 

Of course, this reality hardly encapsulates the desires of the Orient Express cyclists.  Hence a new first night’s destination in Bulgaria needed to be found.  Descending further down the road beside the Ribarska Kobila, directly to the side of the Donau, was located what could only be described as an Oasis.  The Lulaika Hotel.  A land of swimming pools, the possibility for pinkish colored cocktails, and patios which stretch to the wild and unseeing river’s edge.  This was to be our destination.

 

As the cyclists arrived they quickly transferred between the mode of a journeyer crossing a continent by bicycle, to the pose of the jet set; lacquered to their deck chairs sipping drinks, baking in the summer sun, hearing faintly the splash of scantily clad men and women in the pool; all the pleasures of relaxation eroding the pain of weary legs.  The next day’s hard ride in the farthest recesses of their minds…

 

Afterthought

 

It’s difficult to assess the nature of people’s choices, or to decide on their merits.  What is it that George and his assistant at the Ribarska Kobila ponder so deeply?  Causing them, apparently, not to notice the capitalistic fervor of the Hotel Lulaika going on less than a kilometer down the road. Perhaps these humans, like us all, put down roots in ideas, and when the ideas collapse: the previous communist Bulgarian state in this case, they’re left with nothing but the soil and the wind.   Regardless, we at TDA feel that it is lucky to come into contact with both sides of the economic equation; capitalistic success, and despondent questioning.  The destination is often unknown.

Romania has entered the EU, and the village cows are nervous.

 

As a cyclist pedals ceaselessly along the ever changing pitch of the Transylvanian roads, they may find time to lean their bike against a little shop, in a little village, in the late afternoon with the days’ heat dissipating and camp not too far off.  If they’re lucky they’ll find themselves drinking a cold beverage and watching wide-eyed as a herd of cows slowly meanders into the village, led by 1 or 2 herdsmen, having been out all day eating the local grass.  Not such an uncommon sight in much of the world, but what stands out is that not all the cows belong to the herdsmen, or to any one owner.  In fact each member of the village appears to own 1 of the cows, and they stand along the road, expectantly, as if waiting for their children returning home from school.  When they spot their cow among the herd, they walk over, both lovingly and menacingly with some stick or such, give the cow a gentle whack, and then lead it to their back yard for the night.  For a cow, this is the life.  The EU doesn’t like this, and would prefer if all the cows were sold to 1 owner and sent off to a long term boarding school far away from their village friends.  It would be a shame…  

Speaking of cows/wildlife.  During our trips we try to keep things light hearted and amusing.  No one day is like another, and in this spirit we organized a cyclist vs. bear race up the Carpathian Mountains.  As mentioned in an earlier entry, Adam Birkan is something of a racer, so he was quick to grab this opportunity.  In the cool morning heading up the Transfaragas Pass, which happens to be a 30km climb, Adam and the local brown bear we had arranged to meet up with us on the road, came together like great sportsmen, and with a loud roar from the bear began to race. Though it seemed neck and neck for the first few hundred meters, we all had a feeling that Adam would eventually pull away from the four legged champ, and sure enough he was the victor.  Congratulations to Adam.  Apparently dejected, the bear decided not to race anymore after that.

 

So, having reached Bucharest, the group has successfully completed the Cycling with Vlad section of the trip.  This is the first time for this section (as it follows new roads through different areas of Romania) and the cyclists have much to be proud of.  It is certainly a challenging segment, and to have ridden through the mountains and rough roads of Transylvania is no small feat.  Congratulations to all.

Our first few days in Romania have proven to be incredibly eye-opening. After crossing the border from Hungary into Romania, the differences were immediate and startling – new money and a new language of course, we’ve gotten used to that by now. What really surprised us was how outwardly friendly everyone is here. As we ride through little villages and towns, we are cheered on by nearly everyone that we ride past. Our days are full of waves, high-fives, and smiles.  

Perhaps the Romanian people are simply Europe’s friendliest citizens, or perhaps they recognize that when they see riders, they realize what a daunting task it is to cycle through their mountainous country. We’ve endured some intense climbs, some nasty weather, numerous flat tires, and a few bad falls. These hurdles, however, appear miniscule in comparison to those that await us in the next few days. Luckily, we have the Romanian people as our cheerleaders.  

The Carpathian Mountains may not be the Himalayas but nonetheless they present formidable obstacles to even the most experienced cyclist. Our group of daring riders will soon conquer the high peaks of the Transylvanian Alps by carefully navigating the hairpin turns, steep ascents, and sharp descents, while simultaneously striving to maintain a safe distance from the cyclists’ most dangerous obstacle, our most feared predator -- the automobile.  

For now, we’re in the city of Alba Iulia greasing up our gears for the upcoming train d’enfer. It’s now time to tighten our brakes, check the tread on our tires, practice yoga, and to say our prayers, because the next five cycling days that lead us to Bucharest will surely test our endurance and determination as we run the gauntlet.

- Josh Jones

Not all our Tour riders are incredibly quick.  Not speaking of their mental sharpness of course, but of their cycling speed.  Naturally there are many good reasons to not cycle quickly; enjoying the scenery, eating berries by the road, taking pictures of wild turkeys, climbing a tree, swimming in a creek, napping under a log, playing with the street dogs, standing around feeling cool in spandex, speaking with a tractor driver… A few cyclists though jettison out into the cool early mornings with speed on their minds.  In the case of the Orient Express this year that would be Mark Peters and Adam Birkin.    Their lust for speed and the unquenchable thirst they have for pushing themselves physically has led them to not only surpass, but to positively shatter the previous recorded fastest times on this Tour.  Sure, you might ask “but I thought the Orient Express wasn’t a race?” and of course you would be utterly correct, there is no race element and we don’t actually record anyone’s time for the day.  O.K., so we’re really just making a bold statement without any facts to back it up, but let it be.  We’re pretty sure that they are very fast and deserve some kind of accolades. 

  Adam, a photojournalist, at times cycles over 40km/per hour, and still manages to snap amazing shots of the roadside attractions.  Mark, a German, also cycles over 40km/per hour, and on his hand held computer connects to myriad wifi zones along the route, allowing him to solve, in real time, problems related to his occupation.  This is the kind of cycling and life spirit which makes all of us on the Orient Express a fortunate bunch.

  Luckily, there is one place where there is no rush for any of our cyclists; and that is camp.  Once arriving the leisure begins.  At times there are certain duties involved with maintaining ones’ cycle, but for the most part, with bliss and deserved euphoria, as if stuck in the most pleasant molasses, people slow down to the quietest pace, moving about the camp with dream-like smiles. 

  The jack-rabbits though are ready to pounce, waiting for the next mornings’ ride, preparing to unleash their lust for speed.

Is it possible for titles to be unrelated to the subject matter which they precede?Sure, the title above could be seen as an example of that; except that somehow this title may shed some light on the trials which a cyclist attempting to cross Europe can encounter. Let’s take Paul Davidson, a rider who has participated on the Tourd’Afrique in it’s entirety, as well as previously cycling sections on the Orient Express (Budapest to Istanbul) as well as the Silk Route (Istanbul to Ashgabat) A man of preternatural navigational ability, a keen sense of humor, and a set of very small wheels.Through 4 days of cycling from Regensburg, Germany to Emmersdorf, Austria, Paul and the rest of our fearless O.E. participants stuck to the Donau Cycle Trail; soaking up it’s serenity, it’s graveled sections, and, luckily, it’s possibilities for curried bratwurst stops. Our final day of the cycling week, which led us to our current locale, Vienna, took a different turn… The night before our cycle to Vienna the sky turned upside down, with clouds opening up and delivering a chorus of raindrops on all our tents which could not be quelled. However, never dreary or droll, Paul and the gang awoke with enthusiasm in the wet dawn, packed up their bags, ate some hot oats, filled their voluminous mugs with coffee and focused on the day of cycling ahead. Paul cycled off on his own, following the small signs for the bike trail seen through his fogged up spectacles; unfortunately the unrelenting rain made map reading difficult, and with heightened attention on the slippery road surface ahead and not on the directional signs, he was caught by what for a cyclist is a kind of mouse trap. If one has ever driven a car in Europe, they may remember that finding the motorways appears to be an incredibly easy chore. Is this due to a heightened ability to navigate the roadways of foreign countries compared to our own? If we should be so lucky…, actually Euro motorways send out giant traction beams (in the form of enormous city direction signs) which incessantly pull motor vehicles towards their on ramps, only to spit them out later at their driver’s destination. Paul’s bike was caught in one of these traction beams, and despite his best efforts was unable to escape its’ pull. Suddenly finding oneself on their bicycle entering the autobahn is really bad enough. To add insult to injury though, the Austrians are a group who have never shied away from telling a person who has made a mistake that they’ve done so. With motorists in their dullish Mercedes purposefully slowing down to yell “Verboten!!!” out their half opened windows (so as not to be too affected by the pummeling rain) Paul cycled miserably onwards. Luckily, being an O.E. participant, Paul is nothing if not resourceful, so within a couple of kilometers, he was able to escape the trap, scaling a small fence after climbing a reasonably accessible embankment. Finding himself on a smaller road, he tuned his mental compass to locate the Donau, set his bike in a downstream direction and began once again cycling the ever pleasant trail towards Vienna. (Mind you on slippery paths and in a torrential rain storm, but at least their was one of the grandest cities in Europe at the end of it all) To Paul who is leaving the group in Budapest. Happy trails! To Bob, Gloria and Walburga who have joined us in Vienna. Welcome aboard!

After leaving France, our team of riders have hardly left Germany's many bicycle paths. These cycleways offer a welcome reprieve from the challenges of sharing the road with cars and trucks that fly past at speeds far greater than ours. These paths offer a new sort of challenge -- the paths are often very busy and packed with other riders, pedestrians, swarms of insects, mud, and gravel. At least once, the rough gravel has caused a rider to fall off of their bike and bite the dust. In spite of the hazards, each and every day along our route has been wonderful.

Our route largely follows the beautiful Danube River that begins in the town of Donaueschingen and flows eastward from a natural spring called the Donauquelle. We follow the designated paths that correspond to this river all the way to Bratislava, Slovakia; however, the ride from Eggelstetten to Kipfenberg and on to Regensburg changed things up a little bit when we instead followed the Altmühltal cycle path that follows the flow of the river of the same name. This allowed us to enjoy a number of Germany's beautiful forests, small villages, farms, and even the occasional flea market.

We have been fortunate to have had incredibly beautiful weather along the way. The crisp, clean air and bright sunlight have made each day a real joy. In fact, we've had to leave camp in a downpour only once -- and the rain cleared up before noon. Let's hope that we continue to be so lucky on our journey east.

The great meals that Hatice and Miles provide offer the perfect incentive for us riders to make it to lunch and dinner. Adam, Mark, and Paul from Nova Scotia, whom we collectively call the "Jackrabbits" because they leave in the morning at lightning speeds to make it back to camp early. What's the rush guys? Maybe they're just hungry and are eagerly awaiting the next meal. The rest of us tend to ride together, and we also tend to make frequent stops. In the morning we scout out a nice bakery or café for a cup of coffee or hot chocolate and a little snack. In the afternoon we often make another stop. This time it's for something cooler, like an ice cream cone or a tall glass of beer.

The time that we spend together when we aren't riding has been just as enjoyable. We spend lots of time at camp getting to know one another a little better by telling stories, the occasional joke, and talking about the people that we miss back home. Besides the time that we spend on our bikes, the best part of every day is the chance to explore the new places that the tour brings us. Now we're enjoying a well deserved rest day in Regensburg before we head back to the trail for five more days until we reach our next chance to sleep in a warm and comfortable bed in beautiful Vienna.

Perhaps the notion of comparing Bavarians to the Mackenzie Brothers is peculiar to begin with.  Firstly, for most people who have not been inducted by birth or immigration into Canadian culture, there is the question of, “Who are the Mackenzie brothers?”  Secondly, for those that are familiar with the 1980’s Canadian television program SCTV, and the Mackenzie brothers, there is the question of, “What do Bavarians have to do with a couple of beer chugging, toque wearing, plaid devoted, cold weather dwelers?”  Thirdly, for some out there, there is the question of “What are Bavarians?”   Fourthly, it’s possible that the comparison is moot.  Why?  Well, because the Mackenzie brothers were perhaps a dream, a cultural pinnacle that Canada struggled towards, along a daunting track of ambivalent cool, and subtle over-indulgence.  Where as Bavarians, may very well have achieved this state of grace.  That said, and some will certainly protest, this blissful state was reached not recently, but some centuries ago here in Bavaria.  Historical accounts are stored in hidden archives, but the evidence is in the feeling of humorous calm that still lingers in the Danube’s flow as one cycles along it’s shore, awaiting a cold beer at ride’s end.

  Hmmm… it’s been a fine introduction to Germany and Bavaria the last few days for all the O.E. cyclists.  A few chose to search out the starting point of the Danube, located in the town of Donaueshingen.  It should feel both a joy and a daunting test to begin the long journey along the rivers path.  Luckily it appears most of our riders have already become quite accustomed to the way of the Donauredwegen (the Danube cycle trail) and it’s many small, and sometimes challenging navigational signs.  There is certainly no shortage of stops along the path for coffee, tea, or some fine German cuisine, and other than one day of rain, we’ve continued to enjoy pleasant days.

  Today found us arriving in Ulm, a city both famed as Einstein’s birthplace, and for the largest church in the World, the Ulm Minster.  Conveniently, a religious holiday has fallen on our rest day, which will make for a true day of leisure, a picnic on the Danube sounds like a wonderful idea to me.  Happy cycling.  Coookookookokokokooo