Earthquake!!!! ...in Denmark?

This morning I woke up to find myself being shaken back and forth in bed.

Having never experienced an earthquake, my mind was seeking every possibility for this feeling.

A train has crashed...

The building is crumbling...

The wind is really strong...

I sat up and noticed that Michael had also been disturbed by the jolts.

"Is this an Earthquake???" I queried.

"I think so! I dont think this building can withstand one... it may collapse!" Michael beckoned as he got out of bed and gazed out of the window as if to see a city in turmoil.

It lasted for what seemed about 25 seconds. We then laughed about the scenario and went back to sleep. Michael told me to remind him about it in the morning because otherwise he will think it was a dream. Of all places to experience my first earthquake.... Copenhagen, Denmark was not a likely suspect!

The epicenter was in southern Sweden, about 40 miles away. It was a 4.7 on the Richter Scale.

I had earthquake dreams for the remainder of the morning.

Barcelona and Back

Last Monday I woke up at 4:30am to catch the bus to the train station in Copenhagen which would take me to the K. Lufthavn. I get there with plenty of time to spare and the airline served us croissants and orange juice while we waited.

In about 2 and a half hours I was landing in Barcelona. After a bit of studying other people I learned how to get a train ticket to the city center. With only one pack, I was able to roam around all day without having carry much luggage.

I didnt have a map, so I just picked a direction. I started on the SW side, where I stumbled upon a nice art museum, gardens, a chairlift, and an old castle.. or fort. I took lots of pictures from this point, as it offered a panaramic views of the city and he sea. This also gave me an idea of which direction I wanted to head next.

I wondered down the hill on the East side and then turned North on the Ramba, the touristy street. I continued North looking for the Sangrada Familia. I had always seen this cathedral in pictures and always wanted to see it in person. I couldnt find it... but I managed to stumble upon a series of escalators leading up a mountain. I took them, which led to a park full of gardens overlooking the city. I spent some time exploring the park and then headed back down toward the Familia. Even after taking visual note of its location, I was still ahving a hard time finding it. I kept stopping at the bus stops to look at the maps posted. That was how I found my way.

At last, the Sangrada Familia. Not much to do there, and it was of course full of tourists. I moved on, heading East to where Roger lives. I could have taken the metro, but I chose to finish the day walking instead. It was 6 hours of walking total when I found Roger's flat. He was glad to see me when I showed up. I met the children and we had dinner together consisting of chicken strips and a mashed goulash.

The 3 days I spent there were relaxed. It was nice to be in warmer weather, even is the air was chilly. The second day I spent walking around Sant Andreu, the township where Roger lives. There werent any tourists, and I got a nice grasp of local life. On Wednesday I was to meet Star, the friend I had met in Amsterdam a little over a week ago. I waited around for 45min. and decided she could find Roger's place on her own. Roger took me swimming in the local pool center. It felt good to get some total body excercise for a change.

Whne I returned from the pool, Star was at the flat. I had barely missed her at the metro stop. Roger took us out to the old part of the city and gave us a tour. We had some Argentine pizza and took lots of pictures. The next day, Star and I went to the beach and compared yoga moves. She went for a swim, I opted against it.... i bit too cold.

I said my goodbyes to everyone and headed back to the airport on Thursday evening. Time to get back to the cold, wet, windy North.

Going home was all that I could have expected for Copenhagen. It was just above freezing, windy, and slushing rain.

Friday I took it easy until Michael returned from work. We went to his father's Italian supermarket and then he headed to his company's Christmas Lunch. I went back to the dorm to make dinner and then I headed out to the city.

Kobenhavn aka Copenhagen

I've now been in Copenhagen for about 5 days. My knee seems to be healing, despite my daily bike treks throughout the city. I have been avoiding using the injured one while pedaling.

Copenhagen is expensive. Similar in prices to Paris... some things even more. The taxes are outrageous, and from what I hear from the Danes, many of the policies seem to only promote business in bordering countries. For example, Danish beer is cheaper in Germany than in Denmark!

The weather is predictable: wet, cold, and windy. The sun sets just after 4pm, severely limiting time for me to explore in light. Ive managed to find the famous mermaid, the main shopping streets, picturesque canal houses, and the famous Christiania sector. The bike traffic is very similar to that of Amsterdam, but the Danes seem to be better drivers than the Dutch.

To get a break from this gloomy weather, I have decided to go to Barcelona for 3 days next week. It's not really warm there, but atleast Ill see a bit of Mediterranean sunshine.

Spontaneous Journey

Tuesday, 2 December. 13.30 hrs

I have been sitting in Michael's dormitory in Copenhagen reflecting on the last few days as a blur. This is the first time I've had access to the rest of the world (internet) since Thursday. Michael, I met on top of the Nairobi conference center in Kenya, two years ago. From there, he joined Eric and I on one hellish overnight bus ride to Kampala and later on a safari in western Uganda. I find it surreal to be here in his hometown. Yesterday I wondered the streets of Copenhagen on my bicycle; observing the city which is new to me.

Sunday, 30 November. 15.00 hrs.

After slicing the onions, I decided to drop the sausages into the skillet. Looking around the kitchen, I find a bottle that looks and smells like vegetable oil. I hope it is, but I can't read Danish. I also have potatoes boiling on the back eye.

Cooking is not the best thing for me to be doing right now. The sight of sausage makes me want to chunder. Oh, and don't even mention Herring. If I ever taste another bit of Herring I will have an immediate gag reaction. I have to take breaks from watching the food to chunder outside in the lawn. Sitting by the fire is also a priority due to all of the doors being open. Random neighbors keep entering, speaking only in Danish.

At last, the food is finished. Soren and Julien are starving, so they immediatley dig in. I, on the other hand, still feel a bit nauseatious. I try a bit of the potatoes.. it's alright. And then a piece of sausage... not so good. I stick with the potatoes.

After eating, we finished loading the truck. This took several hours. Michael was waiting for me in Copenhagen, so we tried to rush.

We arrived at the train station around 11.30pm. Soren took the liberty of making sure I got on the right train. We said goodbye, and they headed towards Brussels, and I into Copenhagen. I had no Danish kroners, only Euros. The only choice was to risk getting caught without a ticket. I made it.

Sunday, 30 November. 14.00 hrs.

I find myself waking in a strange place. My head is pounding and I feel a bit sick. Looking around, I am reminded of the small house in Northern Zealand that I arrived at 7 hours earlier. Soren and Julien are already awake and had been stepping over me, preparing to move things out of the house into the truck. Julien chuckles as he sees me getting up.

What happened? I have a terrible hangover...

As my brain begins to recover more data I remember the short celebration we had at our arrival in Gilleje at 6am this morning. Danish customs were forced upon me... I didn't mind, I hadn't eaten anything all day, except for that bag of chips I bought at a petrol station in Hannover. We had three kinds of Herring and a terrible liquor that tasted medicinal. I tried to take it easy on the medicinal liquid and go for the Danish brew, which was delicious. Soren kept pouring me liberal amounts of the liquor.... I drank.

After our celebration, Julien went to sleep and Soren asked if I wanted to walk to the beach. I accepted due to the addrenaline of being in such a strange, new place. This was his childhood mecca, a place he grew up with and found so familiar. He showed me the paths he use to ride his bicycle around, and the site of the old house, which now has no reminants. We found the beach, nearly 1 km later through the meandering paths. The beach was picturesque. Soren walked through the gentle waves as I took pictures. The nostalgia engulfed him.

On the way back, he took me to a pond with a bench, where we discussed politics, culture, and life. Upon our return, we both crashed.

Saturday, 29 November. 20.00 hours.

We've been driving for hours in this large moving truck. Problems seem to never cease. Germany is not so easy to navigate, even with a map. Julien only has a large scale Europa map... good for us, I have a map of northern Germany. Not wanting to make a mistake, Julien often pulled off the highway to ask people if we are going in the right direction.

In Western Germany there is a conglomerate of industrial cities (Dusseldorf, Essen, Dortmund, Koln, Duisburg) Foreigners should avoid this area if driving or traveling through Germany. Julien and I, of course, found ourselves in this cluster for hours.

Somewhere before Hannover, I am about to dose off, when I here a clunk. I dismiss it and fall asleep. 20 minutes pass and Julien is pulling over at a rest stop. It seems out driver side windshield wiper has snapped. We find some tools, and move the passenger side wiper over.

When we finally make it to the ferry which crosses into Denmark, I can't stay awake. We park the truck and move up to a lounge where I immediatley pass out for what seems like 2 minutes. Julien wakes me and we head back down to the truck. The ferry takes about 45 min!

I dose off again in the truck. My head is bobbing and my mouth, for sure, is open.

I wake up to find that Julien has picked a terrible spot to get fuel. We're on empty, and it looks like this place.... Bogo, has nothing! Julien decides to pull over at a residential house to ask... noone is home. We move on and find someone walking. He points us to the right directions. It turns out we are on a small island just before Zealand. No wonder there is nothing here.

Saturday, 29 November. 04.30hrs.

Marc looks at his watch to find that the party will be over soon.

What???? It feels like we just arrived!

Despite the near end, the mood is still going strong. We are on an old cargo ship in Amsterdam, which has been converted into a 4 room rave party. Nitai, Marc, and I arrived after midnight with our new friend Star Simpson. The remainder of the party flies by, and find ourselves parting with Nitai, who decided to take an early train to Brussels en route to Brugge. We say our goodbyes to him before heading back to Casa Robino on our bicycles. We quitely climb the 4 flights of stairs, unfold out sleeping bags and pass out.

My alarm wakes me 4 hours later.

Yikes! I have a train to catch!

I am to meet Julien at 4pm in Venlo, a small town on the German border. I rush downstairs, grab my bike and race to the train station. I made it... barely.

Arriving at Venlo, I am carrying my bike up a flight of stairs when I see a tall, slender fellow with long hair smiling at me. I am not sure what Julien looks like.... but I think it's him.

"Julien?"

He nods with approval and notes that it was easy to spot me with my luggage and a bicycle. We load my things into the back of a moving truck and I climb into the front. And we're off! Roadtrip Germany!

During the ride he explains that he is meeting his friend, Soren, with this moving truck in Northern Zealand. Soren's mother has died recently, leaving him with a house which needs to be cleared out.

We discuss travel, politics, economics, the EU, ect. for the first hour or so. I start to get sleepy after a couple of hours... after all I've just been at an all night rave party in Amsterdam. Must have sleep... Julien offers me a pillow just before stopping for coffee.

iAMsterdam

I was thinking A few days in Amsterdam would give me time to evaluate my knee injury, and it did. The knee is a little better since I have not been riding as much, but I have determined that it would be best to avoid further injury by not bicycling the rest of the way to Copenhagen.

My bicycle, "Louise" will be donated to the collective here in Amsterdam.

I am currently scoping out potential plans in Amsterdam. It looks like I will be going to Hamburg as planned, but via different mode of Transportation.

Amsterdam

“Victory is won not in miles but in inches. Win a little now, hold your ground, and later, win a little more.” -Louis L'amour

3 days ago, I was lucky enough to catch a lift from Rotterdam to Amsterdam. Rick, Rogier's flatmate, offered to take me on his way in to work. Yes, he drives to Amsterdam everyday for his police officer duties.

In Rotterdam, I rested most of the day I was there, choosing to bypass the city all together. I went to the supermarket, purchased some traditional Dutch food and relaxed on the sofa.

I left my block of Leerdammer cheese at Rogier's flat. It has been my favorite of the cheeses I have had in Europe. Ive been thinking about it a lot; alas, it is time to let that cheese go. I'll be looking for a new one the next few days.

In Amsterdam I have been welcomed with open arms into a collective household, made up by a plethora of international nomads. Everyone here is driven, and fascinated by others who are driven. Thus, being interested in my trip.

I find myself being asked a few questions, commonly:

Why the winter time?

Why on a bicycle?

Why Copenhagen?

Oscar Wilde (whom I have now visited his crypt in Paris) once said
"In Examinations, the foolish ask questions the wise cannot answer."

I dont believe that my inquirers are foolish, but the wise definitely cannot answer the questions easily.

Here, the collective has about 10 bicycles for usage. Many were non-functional until some us spent a couple of hours working on them. Now the house (not including mine) has about 7.5 ridable bicycles.

Bicycling in Amsterdam has been a highlight of the trip; it's the same as driving on a highway of cars. Ive had several close calls to collision. The Dutch don't even have gears on their bikes, yet they are always moving about very quickly... sometimes with loads of goods, or another person on the back.



Despite the freezing weather and increasing snow, either tomorrow or Monday morning, I will be leaving Amsterdam (regretfully), to return to the cold.

Belgium

BASTOGNE

My time in Belgium began in the small town of Bastogne. Unfortunately my host, Thierry, had to work every day that I was there. But that was ok because it gave me time to explore the region, relax and do my laundry.

On the first day, after doing my laundry, I visited the American Monument/memorial and the Battle of the Ardennes Museum. More interestingly, on the second day I bicycled to a nearby forest and found some foxholes of the 101st Airborne (circe 1944).

There isn't a lot to do in Bastogne, but I managed to meet some nice people including Thierry's friend Yohannis, who treated me to a couple of nice meals. He also showed me the ring he was working on (he is a jewel artist). The ring was worth nearly $200,000. I saw it in an incomplete stage, but it was gold with brown and clear diamonds encompassing the outer periphery.

Lucky for me, Thierry offered to drive me to Namur so that I would not have to endure a day of riding in the rain and cold over the Ardennes.

NAMUR

Upon arriving in Namur, I met with my host Martin, who is a student of chemistry. He lives in a college style house just outside the centre. He made me genuine student food (it wa sonly 2 years ago I was doing the same) of beans and pasta. Afterwards, we hit the pub for some Belgian beers.

Martin enjoys beer about as much as I do, and was just as knowledgable; so as you could imagine it was the topic of discussion.

The next day, Martin took me to the castle/citadel in Namur which offered panaramic views of the city and a look into the past. I left around 11am for Brussels.

BRUSSELS

It took me under 4 hours to get to the outer limits of Brussels from Namur. The best part was the constant slope downhill. From here until the end of my trip things will be much flatter.

It took me about an hour to find Miguel's flat just in Ixelles. I was early by 2 hours. I waited outside and sent him a text to let him know of my arrival. 20 min. later I guy came out backwards with a baby carriage and nearly backed over top of me sitting on the curb. I said something and he turned around. It was Miguel!

He invited me in and showed me around. I met his 18mo. baby, Igor, and his wife, Stephanie. Afterwards I joined him on a shopping excursion in the city centre. We stopped for hot fresh Belgian waffles (not a breakfast item in Belgium).

Disaster strikes!

On Sunday, I told Miguel I was going to ride around the city before we left for his family reunion. I got about a half mile from his flat when I hit a bump. The bump jarred my front wheel loose and out from under me. The front forks hit the ground and I went flying. I rose with agility, uninjured, but it looked like the bike was damaged goods. Yes, the front wheel was warped, the mirror busted, and my lefthand shifter broken. I rode it back with a wobbly wheel.

No bike shops open. I decided to try and straighten the wheel by standing on it. I did it. For the shifter, I had to jimmy rig it with a bottle cap.

After the wreck, I joined Miguel and fam in a rented car to his hometown in south Belgium. It was the birthday of his sister's twins. The family was extensive and we had delicious cakes and sweets. This is the real Belgium, I thought to myself. The people and their gatherings and functions. I had a nice time talking with Miguel younger sisters about films and music.

On Monday morning I left Miguel's place around 8:30am with my damaged bike.

Antwerpen, and beyond.

I got lost leaving Brussels. I got lost in Antwerpen. I got lost in Bergen Op Zoom. I got lost in the middle of nowhere in The Netherlands.

This ruined my plans to make it to Rotterdam in one night.... or did it. The Netherlands is the msot bicycle friendly culture I have been in. As soon as I crosses over the border I noticed an influx of bicyclists and bicycle specific paths.

I sped along still with a bit of hope to make it to Rotterdam.

When I planned the route of this trip, I was following smaller highways. Little did I know that The Netherlands has an extensive bicycle route system. And because of that, they dont allow bikes on most of the sizable roads. So my planned route was foiled. I found a map posted of the routes. They meandered through the countryside. I had no choice but to follow one of them, well out of my way. After hours of this paths I found myself in desolate farmland amongst gravel roads and fading sunlight.

I began looking for a forest to camp in. There were none. It was all open pastures and small houses. I chose to continue on; and as I did, I noticed that other bicyclists were stiull riding well into the darkness.

Because of the culture and network of paths, riding at night is very common. So I chose to continue on to Rotterdam.

Problem.

At about 7pm I came to the bridge which crosses the river onto the area of Rotterdam. (30km outside) The bridge that allows bicycles across was closed for construction. I found some people and asked them how to get across. They said that there is a bus, but I missed the last one.

Great. So I asked another person and they said that there is another bus. I waied at the station for 30 min. A teenage boy showed up and I asked him about the busses. (luckily he was from England, thus speaking good english) He called the bus people and arranged a car to come pick me up. It was even free!

On the otherside I followed the paths to just outside Rotterdam, where Rogier lives. It took me nearly an hour of searching through neighborhoods to find his flat. I found it at 11:30pm last night.

I had been on the bicycle for over 15 hours and probably did around 150 miles.

Brussels

I don't have much time to update the blog for now, but for a quick note, I have made it to Brussels, and this morning I leave for Rotterdam. It's about 150km, originally I had planned to do it in 2 segments; I am going to attempt it in one.

When I have time I will write about Bastogne, Namur, and Bruxelles

Theasy road

Luxembourg is now a thing of the past. I arrived in Bastogne, Belgium last night to meet my host, Thierry.

When I rose yesterday morning it was, of course, pouring the rain. Dreadfully, I gathered myself and prepared to cross the Ardennes. This portion from Luxembourg to Bastogne was to be the most difficult climb. Alas, I was saved by my generous host Sara. She was going to Brussels last night and offered to drop me off in Bastogne.

With the extra day, I took the train into Luxembourg city and walked around. The difficult part was finding the correct trains to get on/ switch to.

At the city station, I asked te clerk which one to get on. She wrote it down for me in English.

Mykel Board's Law says that "if nothing can go wrong, everything will" This is true.

The train never showed up at the platform... but there were many people also waiting for it. Another train showed up at the opposite track and they all boarded... I followed. It was a nervous ride; who knows where it was going??? I may have wound up in Germany! Luckily it was going in the right direction, but then it started to go in the opposite. I got off and chose another train, which was the correct one.

Because I got on the wrong one coming back, it took me over an hour to get back to Sara's house. When I arrived she had made me dinner, then we packed our things and left. (Sara is a great cook, perhaps the Italian heritage?)


Moi avec Sara














Luxembourg City

The Ending; reversed.

Last Sunday I arrived at Charles De Gaulle airport in Paris. I figured it would be easy to find the metro, but this was not so; atleast for a non French speain person. (I should have paid more attention in those high school French classes) Nonetheless, I managed to figure it out after wondering around and studying a few maps. Some of the words look familiar and using context clues I can actually read French.

After a day of wondering around the city, I met with my first host, Anthony. We rented bicycles (via the Paris rental system) and he showed me around before crashing at his tiny bachelor's pad.

In the morning I left Anthony's place and made way to Montmartre, where Antoine lives. (Montmartre is famous for being the setting of Moulin Rouge) There I spent the next four nights getting to know the city, its culture, and its people. I couldn't have asked for a better host. Antoine was like a peronal tour guide with extensive knowledge on everything Paris. In the Louvre he explained details and meanings of so many art pieces. He spent everyday teaching me the ropes of French customs. To save time, I will have to skip the details of Paris and start the expedition chapter of the blog.


Antoine, Fabien, Benji, Sophie, et moi


We found my bike in a tiny shop near Antoine's place. It's nothing special, but I think it can make the long haul to Copenhagen. I paid 90 Euros for it plus a few additives. I figure if I spend less on the bike, then I have to spend on a train to Kobenhaven if something goes wrong.

On Friday morning, I left Antoine's place and set out for Chateau Thierry. I got lost leaving Montmartre, but managed to find my way (losing about an hour). Once I found the Canal Saint Martin, the rest was easy. The canal has a two lane bicycle path leading out of the city. The canal was a sight to see at this time of the year; full of autumn colors an picturesque landscaping. During my escape from Paris, it began to rain. And it continued all day long.



The canal route ended in a small city called Meaux, and I got lost again. Eventually I found a map posted for tourists which pointed me in the right direction. I continued in the rain for many hours along small roads. Surprisingly, many of the roads had no room for bicycles and it was very frightening when a cargo truck passed. I tried to watch for them in my handy mirror to leave the road for their passage. My goal was to reach just passed Chateau Thierry, but due to getting lost twice I didn't make it. Around 5pm I began searching for a forest to sleep in. I spotted one about 300m off the road and waited for no cars before heading torwards it. It was farmland and the path was very muddy. There was a ditch just before the entrance into the forest that was very difficult to pull my weighted bike through. It was getting cold and dark, so I set up my tent qnd got into the sleeping bag. Nothing to do for 13 hours. Throughout the night I heard strange noises, most of them owls I believe. The only thing to really be afraid of is the wild boar...





I oversleep by nearly an hour. I rush to get everything back on the bike and set off. My legs are doing alright despite a bit of soreness. I did about 50 miles the first day and my goal was 60. For today, my goal is to make it past Reims.

The most spectacular part of this segment was the entrance into the Champagne region. The landscape changed from green fields to vinyards. I had to stop several times to stock up on grapes. It was during this period I began to see WWI memorials every few miles; French, American, and British burial grounds.

I managed to make it 10km past Reims. And I didn't even get lost! At sunset I found a nice little pine forest right along the road. These are the best for sleeping because the needles make for a soft mattress. This forest was much smaller and since the traffic was so close I wasn't concerned about the wild boars or wolves.

I rose at dawn to find that it was raining and my legs were very sore. Obviously, my body wasn't use to biking with so much weight on board.

The rain is soaking my tent while tear it down. This will be a problem for tonight. I check my schedule and decide I have to make it to Luxembourg tonight, or else I have to sleep in 2 more forests. Luxembourg is over 100 miles away. Impossible...

The route to Luxembourg is dotted with tiny villages which seem to be ghost towns. Some of them I saw not a single person lurking around. Of course, it is Sunday. I worked harder than the previous days. I wanted to get out of the weather and enjoy a cup of tea in dry warmth. In the early hours my knees were stricken with sharp pains. I was pushing my legs to the limit. The hills are very long and rolling here; unlike the short and steep hills I trained on in Tennessee. In some cases I had to climb for several miles before any relief. But the downhills were great, lasting for several minutes and drying my soaked polypro.

Over more hills and continuing through the French countryside... there were hardly any cars passing me. At an obscure location I spotted a wild boar being chased by a pack of dogs... oddly, most of them were puppies. The boar was three times the size of the largest dog... I don't understand why the boar was running.

After about 70 miles, I thought about giving up. The sun was starting to set and I had a choice to make... Continue to Luxembourg, even if it means riding in darkness, or suffer a cold, wet night in another forest. I chose to continue. My legs were subdued, toes numb, torso soaked with sweat and rain. Hill after hill I continued. I made it to Longwy just as the sun had set. Darkness ensued, but I was determined to get to Sara's place, this side of Luxembourg. No worries, my bike is equipped with lights.

I crossed the border into the world's wealthiest nation (per capita) at 6:30pm. It took me another 30 min to find her house. I rang the doorbell and found her surprised to see me one day early. I had confused the dates on my schedule... I am one day ahead of my projections.... Afterall, I did just do over 100 miles in one day.

The Path Well Traveled

My postings from abroad will begin next week as soon as I get access to a computer. If you want to send me text messages while I am gone, I will receive them for free, however it will cost me a bit to reply.

Hopefully i will have videos and pictures plentiful.

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Bon Voyage!