This blog entry is the first contribution from the three bikes themselves...
134.32km in 6hr40min. Pouring rain.
Averaging 20.1km, sppedo malfunction again: max 145.7!
We spend the night huddled together for warmth as the rain beats down on us, rinsing the dry lube Alice applys insists on applying to our chains daily- when will she buy wet lube!
The girls are safely ensconced inside the hostel, although the peace of the night is disrupted by Hazel nightmare screams.
We're unlocked and packed up suprisingly early for them. 10metres down the road though we stop for them to unpack their waterproofs- they are slowly learning. Maybe one morning they'll manage to emerge suitable attired and avoid these tedious costume changes!
Cykelsparet leads us on to the e4 and with Hazel in the lead we spin along quickly, the girls are already discussing coffee but cafes in Sweden don't open until 10 so we press on, kilometer after kilometer.
The rain is bearing down incessantly, Alice and Hazel have fashions cut offs from their waterproof trousers- amazingly the customisation makes them look more ridculous- Alice's rude boy baggy below knees and Hazels over knee drenched wet tight thigh look.
We the bicycles all agree Phillipa is the most stylish. We are also looking quite tidy now the girls have bought us some flash Sweden stickers fo our frames- wish they had thought of this from the start!
Our most exciting road section today is over the High Coast suspension bridge, we have overheard Philippa informing the girls that it is the biggest bridge in Scandinavia and the ninth biggest suspension bridge in the world! It was very high up, sadly it was quite foggy so the girls didn't take any snaps.
Over the bridge and the girls are devastated that there is no town or service station fo coffee. We don't know why they keep rambling about service stations- in the past 1000miles where has there been one?! And yes we are all very proud when we roll over th 1000mile mark today- happily on our favourite e4 timely.
We hit the Swede's track excuse for a road. Oh how our poor spokes long for the tarmac carpet of the E4- if only he girls weren't as wary of the traffic! The wet sands/grit is exceptionally difficult to cycle through and we are as relived as the girls when we chance upon a cafe in the village hall of Ro. The girls have waffle and ice cream while we cool down.
We now go inland, and on the high coast that means up hills. The first one is so steep we worry should the girls stop peddalling we'd fall down off the road! They don't, and Hazel's bike is most relieved that her knee is better as she whirls the pedals and nips up the hill.
Up and up the hills go with only small down hills, quite exhausted the girls chance apon a little wooden house bus stop where lunch is consumed. The village is named Sand, and it is remarked- "What do you call a witch eating smorgasbord in the village of sand? A swedish sandwich"- much hilarity... The girls now spot from their window an old lady wearing a red cloak walking her poodle. This sends them into hysterics as they discuss wolves and woods.
We hit the road again finally the toils of uphills pay off and we are soaring downhill with Alice's bike zooming away. But suddenly the clouds fully break open and we are screaming down hill in a monsoon, limited visbility and stinging rain. The bottom finallly comes and we are now on the main road into Sundsvall. A rest stop in a bus stop on the E4 interception, we ogle the motorway (category 1 E4 section which we are not allowed on) while the girls eat jam and peanut sandwiches.
The rain is wet rather than vicious now and we set off into the endless suburbs of Sundsvall. It is boring and lasts over an hour as the girls follow a windy route in. But eventually the city and a room for us inside the hostel reception for the night. Happy and tired we are locked up and sleep while the girls find a turkish pizzeria. When in Sweden...
Thursday, 12 August 2010
Tuesday, 10 August 2010
Day 18 Ornskoldsvik to Docksta - Sunday 8th August - Ali
56.9km covered in 3hr 6min
average speed 18.3kmph
max 55.6kmph
odomoter reads 1570.8km
It's a slow start what with the three hour buffet breakfast and blogging to be caught up on. At 10.45 we slowly crawl away from the hotelbox perched on the motorwayside amongst supermarkets and edge of town furniture stores. Feeling very Sundayish we roll slowly down the hill into Ornskoldsvik, previously described to us as being "just like San Francisco". Since it is neither fabulously glamourously or gay, I can only assume that they were referring to the fact it is full of bloody hills. Although I immensely enjoy the descent, logic
always creeps in to remind me that with every downhill must come an up eventually! We are now on Sweden's "Huga Kusten" or High Coast. It's still not salty but ridiculously hilly. Not in the smooth rolling sense, but in the discrete round hill next to hill sense, as if cycling across a giant beach with millions of massive sandcastles plopped everywhere. Incredible descent followed by excruciating asent is the order of the day, often on sandy rubbly "roads" to avoid our arch nemesis/secret lover the E4 motorway. Before leaving SanFran of Sweden we decided to pump up our tyres properly at the petrol station. Eager to achieve the perfect pressure, I whack on the gauge and promptly blow up my tube! A tyre change later and it's midday, we slip into full granny gear and slog it up the hill out of town. We begin to behave like proper cycle tourists and trudge along chatting like grannies. Up hill and down dale and after ten miles the obligatory coffee stop in a charming little museum
staffed as ever, by old ladies. There's historical tableaux and I'm
in seventh heaven! We are once again engaged in conversation about our trip and after an hour we are back on the road, slowly progressing. After a bit of e4 action we decided that we are tired and will not make it the 150km to
Harnosand today. We decide to progress only 20 more miles to Docksta, as recommended by the lovely tourist information girl in LauraMarling/Nordmaling. Choosing a slow and safe 20 miles of Cykelsparet rather than e4, the Sunday ride is again interrupted by lunch break, for
once not on the motorwayside! We make it to Docksta and stock up at le supermarche whilst watching an enthusiastic local crowd cooing appreciatively as an old man throws shoes?! Some sort of variation on boules, I guess. Those Swedes! Hostel is a few km down the e4 but annoyingly the day ends on 996miles on my odometer! Leisure time is duly passed and we retire to bed, eager for an early start and long day.
average speed 18.3kmph
max 55.6kmph
odomoter reads 1570.8km
It's a slow start what with the three hour buffet breakfast and blogging to be caught up on. At 10.45 we slowly crawl away from the hotelbox perched on the motorwayside amongst supermarkets and edge of town furniture stores. Feeling very Sundayish we roll slowly down the hill into Ornskoldsvik, previously described to us as being "just like San Francisco". Since it is neither fabulously glamourously or gay, I can only assume that they were referring to the fact it is full of bloody hills. Although I immensely enjoy the descent, logic
always creeps in to remind me that with every downhill must come an up eventually! We are now on Sweden's "Huga Kusten" or High Coast. It's still not salty but ridiculously hilly. Not in the smooth rolling sense, but in the discrete round hill next to hill sense, as if cycling across a giant beach with millions of massive sandcastles plopped everywhere. Incredible descent followed by excruciating asent is the order of the day, often on sandy rubbly "roads" to avoid our arch nemesis/secret lover the E4 motorway. Before leaving SanFran of Sweden we decided to pump up our tyres properly at the petrol station. Eager to achieve the perfect pressure, I whack on the gauge and promptly blow up my tube! A tyre change later and it's midday, we slip into full granny gear and slog it up the hill out of town. We begin to behave like proper cycle tourists and trudge along chatting like grannies. Up hill and down dale and after ten miles the obligatory coffee stop in a charming little museum
staffed as ever, by old ladies. There's historical tableaux and I'm
in seventh heaven! We are once again engaged in conversation about our trip and after an hour we are back on the road, slowly progressing. After a bit of e4 action we decided that we are tired and will not make it the 150km to
Harnosand today. We decide to progress only 20 more miles to Docksta, as recommended by the lovely tourist information girl in LauraMarling/Nordmaling. Choosing a slow and safe 20 miles of Cykelsparet rather than e4, the Sunday ride is again interrupted by lunch break, for
once not on the motorwayside! We make it to Docksta and stock up at le supermarche whilst watching an enthusiastic local crowd cooing appreciatively as an old man throws shoes?! Some sort of variation on boules, I guess. Those Swedes! Hostel is a few km down the e4 but annoyingly the day ends on 996miles on my odometer! Leisure time is duly passed and we retire to bed, eager for an early start and long day.
Sunday, 8 August 2010
Day 17 Umeå to Ornskoldsvik
Saturday the 7th of August
Under bright sunshine we travel 142,58km in 6hours 26
Averaging 22.1kmph, max 52.1kmph
Since Norway the song that has invaded our minds, souls, sleep, dinner and cycling has been Bucks Fizz's Land of make belive:
This is Alice's fault after bringing it up in the singing peloton. I have been hearing it with every pedal turn and all of us hum it under our breath before breaking into the dance routiene (uncordinated marching for two bars then swinging arms around for two bars and repeat).
What makes this day unique is that no one was affected by Bucks Fizz and finally we have left Cheryl and co behind!
After leaving Umeå coffee is already being discussed and planned at 10km in. It is a further 30km before we hit the town of Hornefors which has a large lido but no apparent coffee shops (oh how we miss London's coffee stops every other shop). We follow signs to centrum but instead find ourselves in a large industrial estate called centrum. I reflect that this is quite a nice change from the standard E4 roadside picnic but instead we elect to double back and Colby hits ICA and returns with coke and two large swiss rolls which we devour as if mini rolls.
Hypergylcaemic we zoom off to Nordmarling, sugar levels plummeting and caffeine craving not settled by coke we stop to find coffee. Two long chats about our trip and the grumpy cafe attendant thrusts take away coffee into our hands as she is now closing up. We sit outside and drink the very strong coffee and eat a bag of peanuts. A detour to the tourist information centre and now we have been in the renamed Laura Marling for over an hour and it's now 3pm. I wonder if we need lunch but after our two breaks no one is feeling hunger. I spot on the map what looks to be a perfect picninc spot the E4/beach. It is of course not a beach but a sandy reedy estuary bay. Unperturbed and comforted by the nearby E4 presence we eat our sarnies. We spend nearly half an hour trying to get back on cykelsparet which should be nearby but those pesky roadworkers have moved his signs about, so instead a quick 5k down the E4.
In this time we have crossed other another province (or landskap) border into Angermanland, where the flat coast line stops and we return to hilly cycling delights. My knee has benefited from the lighter cycling days and is now functional again- although still unable to ride out of the saddle, so I'm now back up to pace and also find my off road legs. I now to whizz along other grit and pot holes. My technique is quite simple bomb along as fast as possible regardless of holes and panniers. The pannniers do start to protest a little and road side repairs are required.
We all go a bit loopy at Gidea after getting very hot and sweaty on off road. It would also appear to be nearing evening and the hostel we had intended to stay at closes in 1hour. Sparet would suggest we are 20km away from town, but this isn't clear as we have diverted from his course going inland rather than while away 50km meandering the coast. Of course Sparet's map doesn't entirely cover the area we are traveling.
So back on the bikes after some fruit and nut, the sign says 28km away. So heads down and pedal. We nearly make it to town in the hour but get lost at the E4 in no man's land on the map. A 40min wander around and we find ourselves at the north of town outside the Scandia hotel. I wonder if we've missed the town altogether. This is scoffed at and Phil goes into the hotel to fetch a map to prove me worng. A roll down the hill into town and we try to find a hotel now that the hostels are closed.
So back on the bikes after some fruit and nut, the sign says 28km away. So heads down and pedal. We nearly make it to town in the hour but get lost at the E4 in no man's land on the map. A 40min wander around and we find ourselves at the north of town outside the Scandia hotel. I wonder if we've missed the town altogether. This is scoffed at and Phil goes into the hotel to fetch a map to prove me worng. A roll down the hill into town and we try to find a hotel now that the hostels are closed.
We now discover that Ornskoldsvik is the venue for the band Europe's comeback gig and the town is chock-a-block with Swedes eager to relive the Final Countdown. The only room in town for the three of us is back up the hill in the Scandia hotel! Room booked we need dinner before our ascent (it's a steep hill). To the Italian, some confusion when the three of us order three main courses and a pizza, "there are four of you?" "no we are hungry!".
Fed we "race" up the hill in granny gear. Phil is put to bed, Alice and I go for a dip in the 7m pool, then blog time and bed!
Day 16 - Rattan to Umeå
Friday 6th August
50.14km in 2hr35min
Avg 19.3kmph
Max 144.7 kmph (we think the computer may have malfunctioned....)
We awake from restless slumber determined to get an early start after our magical evening, having discovered that we have set up tent under the security light in the little harbour which has probably been the cause of our disturbed sleep! Not to worry tho - Ali and Hazel decide to clear the cobwebs away with a quick dip in the inlet before we enjoyed our last breakfast of museli with bran flakes (doesn't make for good porridge, in case anyone was going to try it!). Ali is immensely disappointed when the water is still fresh, despite the advice from a local fisherman that is was salty - where do these Swedes hide all this salty sea water?!?!
Back on the winding road from Ratan we head for Umeå...only to discover that the lack of coffee as our routine breakfast item is affecting both moods and cycling legs... oh dear.... we push on for 30km of Sparet before reaching Savar, where we have half an hour of supermarket time before the coffee shop opens!! Joy of joys - my happiness on this cycle tour is clearly divided between time in the saddle and time in the supermarket aisles, where I am able to peruse the vast selection of items on offer at COOP, ICA and various other little stores along the way...there is, of course, no end to the teasing from the girls, but I can't help it...I guess its just another one of those "Paula Colby" traits I possess...along with the laugh, the voice, the endless coffee breaks, catering skills...thanks Mum - all coming in handy on this trip!!!
On to Umeå, a lovely university town, where we don't intend to stop....however the sunshine gets the better of us, and having lost cyclesparet on our journey through the city, we stop for lunch on the river bank, where Hazel (surprisingly) suggests that we should stop for the night - its only 12pm, we can rest our tired legs after our 140km day, do some washing at the hostel...and its Friday night - surely there'll be something happening in this young people's town!!! After some convincing, Ali is swayed by the opportunity for some "me time" and we head up to the hostel...only to find that reception is only open for checkin between 5-7pm!! Undaunted we head for the local tourist info point.... I have to go back on my previous statement and say that obtaining maps and information would also vie for top stop in my favourite activities, although Ali also shares this love - we have just worked out how to attach our A4 size map book in a readable fashion to the back of Hazel's bike and map reading on the road has become much less painful!
Back to Umeå, and as usual we find two lovely helpful young women in the tourist information centre, organise beds for us at the hostel and let us know where to hit the town later on for a bit of night life!! First things first, we head to H&M for a bit of retail therapy to ease the aching muscles (and to buy some footwear suitable to wear somewhere other than the supermarket) and so begins, Hazel's and my afternoon of crazy shopping. Ali heads off to laze in the sun and work on her art blog, our blog, and generally relax, whilst Hazel and I go a little crazy in the funky little shops in Umeå...new dresses, jewellery and headbands, not to mention our shoes...we return fully stocked to Tourist Info for our rendezvous with Ali at 4:30pm, where I'm allowed to go to Gourmet ICA UNSUPERVISED to to the shopping whilst the girls get in a bit of blog time on the free tourist computers.
Beers in hand we head to the hostel, ready for a night out on the town...well, Hazel is anyway! Finally all frocked up at about 9:30pm we head out, worrying that we've missed all the fun again... where are all the nightspots the little tourist lady spoke about?!? After a few minutes of wandering the city, we stumble upon TC, a bar in the Town Hall of all places!! But there are young people, and pulling up a table outdoors, Hazel buys a round of Mojitos (sadly having a few communication problems with the barman) and we settle in for some people watching... and were there people to watch!! We had managed to seat ourselves next to the local youth mafia group, who slowly took over three tables ousting other patrons from their table as more and more members arrived.... after the most expensive pint ever, and Hazel's Swedish toilet experience (the Swedes like to put two toilets in one cubicle - space saving?- and apparently its fine to use the bathroom with a stranger), we are all feeling the effects of alcohol combined with general exhaustion and return to the hostel to be all tucked up by midnight!!
Avg 19.3kmph
Max 144.7 kmph (we think the computer may have malfunctioned....)
We awake from restless slumber determined to get an early start after our magical evening, having discovered that we have set up tent under the security light in the little harbour which has probably been the cause of our disturbed sleep! Not to worry tho - Ali and Hazel decide to clear the cobwebs away with a quick dip in the inlet before we enjoyed our last breakfast of museli with bran flakes (doesn't make for good porridge, in case anyone was going to try it!). Ali is immensely disappointed when the water is still fresh, despite the advice from a local fisherman that is was salty - where do these Swedes hide all this salty sea water?!?!
Back on the winding road from Ratan we head for Umeå...only to discover that the lack of coffee as our routine breakfast item is affecting both moods and cycling legs... oh dear.... we push on for 30km of Sparet before reaching Savar, where we have half an hour of supermarket time before the coffee shop opens!! Joy of joys - my happiness on this cycle tour is clearly divided between time in the saddle and time in the supermarket aisles, where I am able to peruse the vast selection of items on offer at COOP, ICA and various other little stores along the way...there is, of course, no end to the teasing from the girls, but I can't help it...I guess its just another one of those "Paula Colby" traits I possess...along with the laugh, the voice, the endless coffee breaks, catering skills...thanks Mum - all coming in handy on this trip!!!
On to Umeå, a lovely university town, where we don't intend to stop....however the sunshine gets the better of us, and having lost cyclesparet on our journey through the city, we stop for lunch on the river bank, where Hazel (surprisingly) suggests that we should stop for the night - its only 12pm, we can rest our tired legs after our 140km day, do some washing at the hostel...and its Friday night - surely there'll be something happening in this young people's town!!! After some convincing, Ali is swayed by the opportunity for some "me time" and we head up to the hostel...only to find that reception is only open for checkin between 5-7pm!! Undaunted we head for the local tourist info point.... I have to go back on my previous statement and say that obtaining maps and information would also vie for top stop in my favourite activities, although Ali also shares this love - we have just worked out how to attach our A4 size map book in a readable fashion to the back of Hazel's bike and map reading on the road has become much less painful!
Back to Umeå, and as usual we find two lovely helpful young women in the tourist information centre, organise beds for us at the hostel and let us know where to hit the town later on for a bit of night life!! First things first, we head to H&M for a bit of retail therapy to ease the aching muscles (and to buy some footwear suitable to wear somewhere other than the supermarket) and so begins, Hazel's and my afternoon of crazy shopping. Ali heads off to laze in the sun and work on her art blog, our blog, and generally relax, whilst Hazel and I go a little crazy in the funky little shops in Umeå...new dresses, jewellery and headbands, not to mention our shoes...we return fully stocked to Tourist Info for our rendezvous with Ali at 4:30pm, where I'm allowed to go to Gourmet ICA UNSUPERVISED to to the shopping whilst the girls get in a bit of blog time on the free tourist computers.
Beers in hand we head to the hostel, ready for a night out on the town...well, Hazel is anyway! Finally all frocked up at about 9:30pm we head out, worrying that we've missed all the fun again... where are all the nightspots the little tourist lady spoke about?!? After a few minutes of wandering the city, we stumble upon TC, a bar in the Town Hall of all places!! But there are young people, and pulling up a table outdoors, Hazel buys a round of Mojitos (sadly having a few communication problems with the barman) and we settle in for some people watching... and were there people to watch!! We had managed to seat ourselves next to the local youth mafia group, who slowly took over three tables ousting other patrons from their table as more and more members arrived.... after the most expensive pint ever, and Hazel's Swedish toilet experience (the Swedes like to put two toilets in one cubicle - space saving?- and apparently its fine to use the bathroom with a stranger), we are all feeling the effects of alcohol combined with general exhaustion and return to the hostel to be all tucked up by midnight!!
Day 15- Skelleftea to Ratan
Thursday 6th August
135km covered in 6hr19
average speed 21kmph
max 52
odometer reads 1320km
It's 7pm, we've been cycling all day. We've been through Hazel's tantrum over toilet roll, throwing the contents of all 4 panniers out on a genteel lawn to the amusement of two old folk on a bench, yet another flat tyre, a coffee stop in an old folks home where we consumed a frog 'cake' made entirely of buttercream. Our next settlement Bygdea is our last hope for a supermarket and dinner before our intended destination of Umea, still 40km away. We cycle through, and through, and we are through the other side, empty panniers, no shop, no cafe, no life. I am exhausted, I've run out of food and nearly out of water and I really don't want to go on. For the first time, I feel a slight sense of wanting to be somewhere else. Two options, of pushing
on for 40km with no supplies, or camping in the wild, still without water. I have visions of us being found john
mccandless style, bellies bloated with poisonous wild seed! Into the wild, and low on water. Schoolboy error. Of course I'm not thinking logically, for this Sweden, and we can only be 2 metres awaty from some sort of lake! My skin is wet with salty sweat and starting to turn cold and clammy as evening sets in. Momentarily I consider licking my arm, as all I crave is water and salt to replenish my body. I'm
giving hope on a good end to the day and I feel heavy in every way. Hazel spurs us on and picks up the pace, we plough on, push push push, just keep pedalling I tell myself. We cycle through a tiny hamlet called Ratan, and just as I am about to scrabble down to the lake for water, there appears out of nowhere, like a vision from the cycling gods, a beautiful large old house with a Kultur sign. I don't hold out much hope, especially as the sign on the door states a closing time of 7pm and it's now well past. Undeterred, Philippa charges in and manages to negotiate us a meal at a candlelit table! In we go in sweaty Lycra, to one of the top rated establishments in the county, in National Trust esque surroundings. I'm
imagining a piece a piece of bread an a glass of milk, but the sweet waitress in perfect English informs us we can have what's left ofthe all you can eat buffet! Ice cold glass bottles of coca cola are brought to our starched white linen table cloth. The sweetest most refreshing drink ever tasted. I could have cried! We are invited to help ourselves to food and I try unsuccessfully to express my gratitude to little waitress, but I think she can see how hungry I am! She then proceeds to bring out fresh trays of everything, despite the restaurant being closed. The food, dear god, the food was without doubt the best meal we've all ever eaten, both in terms of taste and satiation of hunger! The blonde swede with her sing song voice kept those plates coming; roast salmon, salad, pickled herrings, dauphinoise potatoes, meatballs, sweet tender veal, cream mushrooms, beetroot and salmon salad, fruits in mayonnaise, breads, quiche, the richest most delicious food was overwhelming. Despite our ravenous appetites we thought it eat to stop after two servings for fear of bodies going into shock and vomiting over the beautiful table! Dinner was rounded off with blueberry pie and coffee, and we left the two workers to lock up with a very generous and well deserved tip. It's times
like these I feel that somebody somewhere is looking out for us, a god of cykelsparet picks us up when we are down, and everything seems to work out ok. This place wasn't marked in any of our books or maps, and yet it just appears, in our hour of need.
We are cycling back through the village to look for a spot to pitch tent, when lo and behold we spot a shower and kitchen sign down by the harbour. This delightful village has provided us with a free campsite for the evening! Theres a well appointed kitchen with oven, two clean showers with hot water and washing machines all housed in an old wooden fishing warehouse. Suspicious Brits, we look around for the catch, a price list or suspicious warden must be lurking somewhere. But no, its just free facilities for travellers such as ourselves. The generosity of the Swedes is astounding. We have lovely hot showers and pitch our tent right outside, as informed to do so by a friendly local. We have been provided with everything we need, and sleep warm and happy with full bellies. Into the wild? Not quite.
135km covered in 6hr19
average speed 21kmph
max 52
odometer reads 1320km
It's 7pm, we've been cycling all day. We've been through Hazel's tantrum over toilet roll, throwing the contents of all 4 panniers out on a genteel lawn to the amusement of two old folk on a bench, yet another flat tyre, a coffee stop in an old folks home where we consumed a frog 'cake' made entirely of buttercream. Our next settlement Bygdea is our last hope for a supermarket and dinner before our intended destination of Umea, still 40km away. We cycle through, and through, and we are through the other side, empty panniers, no shop, no cafe, no life. I am exhausted, I've run out of food and nearly out of water and I really don't want to go on. For the first time, I feel a slight sense of wanting to be somewhere else. Two options, of pushing
on for 40km with no supplies, or camping in the wild, still without water. I have visions of us being found john
mccandless style, bellies bloated with poisonous wild seed! Into the wild, and low on water. Schoolboy error. Of course I'm not thinking logically, for this Sweden, and we can only be 2 metres awaty from some sort of lake! My skin is wet with salty sweat and starting to turn cold and clammy as evening sets in. Momentarily I consider licking my arm, as all I crave is water and salt to replenish my body. I'm
giving hope on a good end to the day and I feel heavy in every way. Hazel spurs us on and picks up the pace, we plough on, push push push, just keep pedalling I tell myself. We cycle through a tiny hamlet called Ratan, and just as I am about to scrabble down to the lake for water, there appears out of nowhere, like a vision from the cycling gods, a beautiful large old house with a Kultur sign. I don't hold out much hope, especially as the sign on the door states a closing time of 7pm and it's now well past. Undeterred, Philippa charges in and manages to negotiate us a meal at a candlelit table! In we go in sweaty Lycra, to one of the top rated establishments in the county, in National Trust esque surroundings. I'm
imagining a piece a piece of bread an a glass of milk, but the sweet waitress in perfect English informs us we can have what's left ofthe all you can eat buffet! Ice cold glass bottles of coca cola are brought to our starched white linen table cloth. The sweetest most refreshing drink ever tasted. I could have cried! We are invited to help ourselves to food and I try unsuccessfully to express my gratitude to little waitress, but I think she can see how hungry I am! She then proceeds to bring out fresh trays of everything, despite the restaurant being closed. The food, dear god, the food was without doubt the best meal we've all ever eaten, both in terms of taste and satiation of hunger! The blonde swede with her sing song voice kept those plates coming; roast salmon, salad, pickled herrings, dauphinoise potatoes, meatballs, sweet tender veal, cream mushrooms, beetroot and salmon salad, fruits in mayonnaise, breads, quiche, the richest most delicious food was overwhelming. Despite our ravenous appetites we thought it eat to stop after two servings for fear of bodies going into shock and vomiting over the beautiful table! Dinner was rounded off with blueberry pie and coffee, and we left the two workers to lock up with a very generous and well deserved tip. It's times
like these I feel that somebody somewhere is looking out for us, a god of cykelsparet picks us up when we are down, and everything seems to work out ok. This place wasn't marked in any of our books or maps, and yet it just appears, in our hour of need.
Saturday, 7 August 2010
Day 13 Pitea to Byske
Tuesday the 3rd of August
84km traveled in 4hours 11minutes
19.5kmph, max 46.7
For once I wake first- this trip has confirmed I am not a morning person. I attempt porriadge mph max (thankfully Phillippa's up to help as well now) and sucessfully master the perculator for coffee.
Having had again dragged down yesterday's average with the dratted off road sections and needing to walk the last 2km into the city we elect for a light day nipping down the coast to the seaside resort of Byske. Alice has been clutching the scandinavian camping brochure (German version) and proclaiming it's host of delightful attractions for some days so is thrilled!
There is the standard stop start both at the hostel and then negociating our way out of the city. Cykelsparet has a habit of misssing out crucial signposts, although Phil has latterly pointed out this maybe mischievous road workers rather than sparet himself.
We eventually find ourselves pedaling with good pace out of the suburbs when we are zipped past by a young swede on a road bike. I bite my lip and resist my urge to sprint after him knowing my knee will not be grateful. So we persist with our current pace and lo! start to reel him back in- he doesn't even pull away up hill! Sadly he nips right before we can catch back up and we continue on sparet's signposting to the left... which leads us back on to our favourite E4. Aware Sparet does occasionally take us on to the motorway we get on and start pedalling, again the double carriage narrows to a single with us penned into a half metre wide stretch bordered by a sharp drop into rubble and the other a rumble strip then traffic. After about 5k we have our daily obligatory E4 picnic stop and consult the map surprised at Sparet's recommendations.
It would now appear we should have pursued the road bike rather than turn left- naughty sparet signposts! With the central reservation there's no u-turn option so it's a further 15km before we can get off and detour backwards back to the route. Needless to say the 15km are a tense business and with some relief we get off. A quick swig of water and recheck of map before we are off when the road bike comes into view- clearly enraged three girls on such slow bikes have beaten him with their motorway shortcut.
We sucessfully find ourselves back on sparet 20km later (so much for the nip down the coast!) and are flying along keen to get to Byske for lunch. I come over a bit funny and vomit my lunch down my leg whilst pedaling, I look up for the others and to my disgust they have hit the off road section and are whizzing off into the horizon. Quick wet wipe and chewing gum later and I attempt to whizz off road.
Off road is not the correct phrase however, for the next 20km of road are undergoing swedish road works. This would seem to involve digging up the entire section of road and covering unequally in rubble and then tarmacing a section at a time with no diversions and only one traffic flow controlling device- documented below.
For once I wake first- this trip has confirmed I am not a morning person. I attempt porriadge mph max (thankfully Phillippa's up to help as well now) and sucessfully master the perculator for coffee.
Having had again dragged down yesterday's average with the dratted off road sections and needing to walk the last 2km into the city we elect for a light day nipping down the coast to the seaside resort of Byske. Alice has been clutching the scandinavian camping brochure (German version) and proclaiming it's host of delightful attractions for some days so is thrilled!
There is the standard stop start both at the hostel and then negociating our way out of the city. Cykelsparet has a habit of misssing out crucial signposts, although Phil has latterly pointed out this maybe mischievous road workers rather than sparet himself.
We eventually find ourselves pedaling with good pace out of the suburbs when we are zipped past by a young swede on a road bike. I bite my lip and resist my urge to sprint after him knowing my knee will not be grateful. So we persist with our current pace and lo! start to reel him back in- he doesn't even pull away up hill! Sadly he nips right before we can catch back up and we continue on sparet's signposting to the left... which leads us back on to our favourite E4. Aware Sparet does occasionally take us on to the motorway we get on and start pedalling, again the double carriage narrows to a single with us penned into a half metre wide stretch bordered by a sharp drop into rubble and the other a rumble strip then traffic. After about 5k we have our daily obligatory E4 picnic stop and consult the map surprised at Sparet's recommendations.
It would now appear we should have pursued the road bike rather than turn left- naughty sparet signposts! With the central reservation there's no u-turn option so it's a further 15km before we can get off and detour backwards back to the route. Needless to say the 15km are a tense business and with some relief we get off. A quick swig of water and recheck of map before we are off when the road bike comes into view- clearly enraged three girls on such slow bikes have beaten him with their motorway shortcut.
We sucessfully find ourselves back on sparet 20km later (so much for the nip down the coast!) and are flying along keen to get to Byske for lunch. I come over a bit funny and vomit my lunch down my leg whilst pedaling, I look up for the others and to my disgust they have hit the off road section and are whizzing off into the horizon. Quick wet wipe and chewing gum later and I attempt to whizz off road.
Off road is not the correct phrase however, for the next 20km of road are undergoing swedish road works. This would seem to involve digging up the entire section of road and covering unequally in rubble and then tarmacing a section at a time with no diversions and only one traffic flow controlling device- documented below.
I'm trying to enjoy myself off road but can't get any speed up with my duff knee to nip over the bumps, and now a flat tyre! Thankfully the others had already doubled back to see what was taking me so long. We pull into a grassy clearing between the ominpresent pines and while the mosquitoes and flies descend replace the inner tube. A short trot down the wooded path is a lake and it seems as good a time as any to go for a dip. The water is ironbrew coloured and there are reeds hiding under the surface, it is not a nice swim. Phillippa sensibly has only got her feet wet.
Out we get and on again past the steam rollers ironing out their freshly laid tarmac. Fresh tarmac is suprisingly nosiy to cycle on and to sticky to get good pace up. I was worried should we have to stop that we may get stuck!
Out we get and on again past the steam rollers ironing out their freshly laid tarmac. Fresh tarmac is suprisingly nosiy to cycle on and to sticky to get good pace up. I was worried should we have to stop that we may get stuck!
We make it to Byske and hit Alice's eutopia of camping resorts. Tents pitched we head straight for the beach. Articifcal sand to lie on and a floating pier into the water, the freshwater. This isn't the sea it's an estuary, thankfully no reeds but pitiful waves and it is very shallow- only waist height at 5min walk out.
After a dinner of cream chesse macaroni with lemon tagine vegatable on the side (thank you for the paste Mum) we hit the showers and get ready to hit the campsite's nightclub. Much excitement at the tents at the prospect of a night on the tiles. I have a quick fringe cut from Ali and the dresses are on, field hospital undertakes it's first tour surgical procedure- removing a splinter from my hand, and then we are ready to go.
The campsites resturant is the club's venue and it's entry price is 100kr (8quid!) Disgusted we turn on our heels and hit the kiosk. We have a crazy night back on the beach with a mint nogger (feast), bottle of coke, packet of crisps and some sweets. Wild times. Sugared up we head back to the tents for sweet slumbers.
Swedish road works
Alice and Phil absorb camp information
Therapist Colby operating in field hospital
Nogger on the beach
Friday, 6 August 2010
Day 12 Lulea - Pitea
67.41km covered in 3hr 33min
average speed 18.9kmph
max speed 41.2kmph
odometer reads 1063 km
I awake with a nose and throat full of phlegm. Greasy with Vicks Vapor rub, Germolene and various other ointments and emollients, I pull on those padded shorts, pull up the merino socklets and pull myself out of bed. Another day, another smorgasbord of delights. Fill your boots kids, its Swedish breakfast time. A group of British Girl Guides hustle us for elbow room in the bread roll aisle. There's no sign of Brown Owl or She Wolf or whatever the pack leader is called, and the Guides are a lot trendier nowadays, theres hoodies and attitude floating around. There's also, treat of treats, fruit salad! Eager to stock up on vitamins rather than processed meats, I of course overdo the fruit and coffee, and retire back to bed with crippling stomach pains. So much for the early start!
Swedish national television doesn't start until 9am, so there's a lovely test card showing on channel 2. No little girl with a chalkboard, but a lovely bit of Beethoven plays. The symphony eventually ends and is rudely replaced by a grating white noise. Time to get up, and on the road. Today, after the off road adventures of yesterday, we decide to Hazel's delight, to opt for the E4, Sweden's 'motorway'. Having had a great time on Finland's empty E8 we were decidedly over confident and headed out, and things at first go well. There's a wide sholder for us to cycle on, so smooth and warm, and two lanes for overtaking either side, cars and lorries rumble past, courteously. Before you know it, the road has narrowed to one lane, with a crash barrier on our right and a central reservation in the middle, leaving no space for overtaking! We are squeezed into a tiny strip of tarmac, between a rumble strip and crash barrier and progress nervously, as cars zoom past. Then we hear them coming, the lorries and coaches coming up from behind, their thundering hoofwheels shake the ground a couple of miles back. Then there is a stillness in the air just before they draw level with you, you stare straight ahead, never dare to look even to the side. Breathe in deep, make a swift prayer to whomsoever cares to listen to your pitiful atheist pleas. Push hard on the pedals, not too fast, not too slow, willing yourself to stick to the tarmac. Glue me to the ground, gravity hold me down, keep me safe. Passing, passing, quickly, two pedal strokes and the lorry is gone. Close, but safe, these guys are pros, theyve seen Cykelsparet followers on this stretch before. Not a beep or a honk to abuse us. 2 seconds later and oddly a little tailwind from the lorry pushes you along your way.
After 15km or so we take the first exit, and enjoy one of our typical roadside sandwich breaks. We decided to risk it offroad. We progress slowly but steadily, what with Hazel's knees and my cold, we decide a little break is in order. We reach Pitea in early afternoon and book into one of Sweden's delightful 'vandrahem' national hostels, this one is housed in an old hospital, in a beautiful riverside park. Incidentally we had hoped to be seeing the sea by now, but the coastal cycle route seems to consist of towns on estuaries so our craving for saltwater swimming remains unsated. We try to adjust from cycle touring to 'Leisure time' our self prescribed new activity. Not much different from the rest of our trip, leisure time consists of eating cakes and drinking coffee, but without cycling in between. Dinner is consumed, beds are made and we slip into our bunks, after a quick round of dancing along to 'Land of Make Believe' by Bucks Fizz. Wild times.
average speed 18.9kmph
max speed 41.2kmph
odometer reads 1063 km
I awake with a nose and throat full of phlegm. Greasy with Vicks Vapor rub, Germolene and various other ointments and emollients, I pull on those padded shorts, pull up the merino socklets and pull myself out of bed. Another day, another smorgasbord of delights. Fill your boots kids, its Swedish breakfast time. A group of British Girl Guides hustle us for elbow room in the bread roll aisle. There's no sign of Brown Owl or She Wolf or whatever the pack leader is called, and the Guides are a lot trendier nowadays, theres hoodies and attitude floating around. There's also, treat of treats, fruit salad! Eager to stock up on vitamins rather than processed meats, I of course overdo the fruit and coffee, and retire back to bed with crippling stomach pains. So much for the early start!
Swedish national television doesn't start until 9am, so there's a lovely test card showing on channel 2. No little girl with a chalkboard, but a lovely bit of Beethoven plays. The symphony eventually ends and is rudely replaced by a grating white noise. Time to get up, and on the road. Today, after the off road adventures of yesterday, we decide to Hazel's delight, to opt for the E4, Sweden's 'motorway'. Having had a great time on Finland's empty E8 we were decidedly over confident and headed out, and things at first go well. There's a wide sholder for us to cycle on, so smooth and warm, and two lanes for overtaking either side, cars and lorries rumble past, courteously. Before you know it, the road has narrowed to one lane, with a crash barrier on our right and a central reservation in the middle, leaving no space for overtaking! We are squeezed into a tiny strip of tarmac, between a rumble strip and crash barrier and progress nervously, as cars zoom past. Then we hear them coming, the lorries and coaches coming up from behind, their thundering hoofwheels shake the ground a couple of miles back. Then there is a stillness in the air just before they draw level with you, you stare straight ahead, never dare to look even to the side. Breathe in deep, make a swift prayer to whomsoever cares to listen to your pitiful atheist pleas. Push hard on the pedals, not too fast, not too slow, willing yourself to stick to the tarmac. Glue me to the ground, gravity hold me down, keep me safe. Passing, passing, quickly, two pedal strokes and the lorry is gone. Close, but safe, these guys are pros, theyve seen Cykelsparet followers on this stretch before. Not a beep or a honk to abuse us. 2 seconds later and oddly a little tailwind from the lorry pushes you along your way.
After 15km or so we take the first exit, and enjoy one of our typical roadside sandwich breaks. We decided to risk it offroad. We progress slowly but steadily, what with Hazel's knees and my cold, we decide a little break is in order. We reach Pitea in early afternoon and book into one of Sweden's delightful 'vandrahem' national hostels, this one is housed in an old hospital, in a beautiful riverside park. Incidentally we had hoped to be seeing the sea by now, but the coastal cycle route seems to consist of towns on estuaries so our craving for saltwater swimming remains unsated. We try to adjust from cycle touring to 'Leisure time' our self prescribed new activity. Not much different from the rest of our trip, leisure time consists of eating cakes and drinking coffee, but without cycling in between. Dinner is consumed, beds are made and we slip into our bunks, after a quick round of dancing along to 'Land of Make Believe' by Bucks Fizz. Wild times.
Wednesday, 4 August 2010
Day 11 Kalix- Luleå
Sunday 2nd August
118.76km in 6hr24min. Sunny sunny but headwind
Averaging 18.5kmph, max 51
Chef Colby cooks up a storm in her new favourite kitchen: muesli porridge with apple and yoghurt.
We provide much interest to fellow breakfasters who are starting this fine day with cooked breakie and beers.
Hit "Cykelsparet"* offical Swedish bike route, as ever the obligatory meander out of town, this time avoiding the E4.
30km of lovely smooth tarmac through the Swedish countryside, enjoying the sunshine, not so much the headwind but making good time.
Coffee and cake then continue on Cykelsparet and turn off onto a Swedish country lane....ie no road surface just grit, gravel no rubble countless pot holes. Alice and Phillipa return to their mountain bike days and zip along at a staggering speed. I forget I am cycling a steel tank and return to days of riding a fragile road bike and try to dart in between pot holes. All this lunging side to side on a fully loaded bike puts my knees into protest.
The track continues for 30km until I sob joyfully at the return of tarmac. Sadly my right knee is not as forgiving and refuses to allow any force through without excrociating agony.
So cycling a a pace fit for snail olympics we continue to Ranea. Which looks to me on the map like a lovely riverside town, and on this lovely summers day I have visions of Richmond on Thames. And as I cycle along half my normal speed through gritted teeth my mind fixes on an ice cream at the riviera.
Of course Ranea turns out to be a small town with a roadside supermarket. Despite this I insist that there will be a picturesque riverside cafe affair "around the corner"... There is not.
Such is the disappointment of Ranea we press on to Luleå. Decrepid intrepid. I experience my most misearble cycling experince- on the up hill approach to Luleå (which I am slowly struggling up) we are overtaken by a roller skier.
Luleå is quite the metropolis. It also lacks public maps. Exhausted, ill and hungry, Alice trawls us around the streets looking for McDonalds. We give up and find the only open resturant, why do the Scandinavians have dinner so early?
We give up on finding the campsite and head to "Quality Hotel" for a quality night's sleep.
*Cykelsparet, along with Sverigeleden, are the national Swedish bike paths we are following throughout the north of Sweden. We have an A4 booklet of both of the routes, both with a lovely yellow cover. They are written complety in Swedish, give distances in Swedish miles (1=10km), and follow a scenic windy route. They also lack any close up maps of city centres. A bargain at £35 a piece.
118.76km in 6hr24min. Sunny sunny but headwind
Averaging 18.5kmph, max 51
Chef Colby cooks up a storm in her new favourite kitchen: muesli porridge with apple and yoghurt.
We provide much interest to fellow breakfasters who are starting this fine day with cooked breakie and beers.
Hit "Cykelsparet"* offical Swedish bike route, as ever the obligatory meander out of town, this time avoiding the E4.
30km of lovely smooth tarmac through the Swedish countryside, enjoying the sunshine, not so much the headwind but making good time.
Coffee and cake then continue on Cykelsparet and turn off onto a Swedish country lane....ie no road surface just grit, gravel no rubble countless pot holes. Alice and Phillipa return to their mountain bike days and zip along at a staggering speed. I forget I am cycling a steel tank and return to days of riding a fragile road bike and try to dart in between pot holes. All this lunging side to side on a fully loaded bike puts my knees into protest.
The track continues for 30km until I sob joyfully at the return of tarmac. Sadly my right knee is not as forgiving and refuses to allow any force through without excrociating agony.
So cycling a a pace fit for snail olympics we continue to Ranea. Which looks to me on the map like a lovely riverside town, and on this lovely summers day I have visions of Richmond on Thames. And as I cycle along half my normal speed through gritted teeth my mind fixes on an ice cream at the riviera.
Of course Ranea turns out to be a small town with a roadside supermarket. Despite this I insist that there will be a picturesque riverside cafe affair "around the corner"... There is not.
Such is the disappointment of Ranea we press on to Luleå. Decrepid intrepid. I experience my most misearble cycling experince- on the up hill approach to Luleå (which I am slowly struggling up) we are overtaken by a roller skier.
Luleå is quite the metropolis. It also lacks public maps. Exhausted, ill and hungry, Alice trawls us around the streets looking for McDonalds. We give up and find the only open resturant, why do the Scandinavians have dinner so early?
We give up on finding the campsite and head to "Quality Hotel" for a quality night's sleep.
*Cykelsparet, along with Sverigeleden, are the national Swedish bike paths we are following throughout the north of Sweden. We have an A4 booklet of both of the routes, both with a lovely yellow cover. They are written complety in Swedish, give distances in Swedish miles (1=10km), and follow a scenic windy route. They also lack any close up maps of city centres. A bargain at £35 a piece.
Day 10 Overtornea - Kalix
Saturday 1st August
91.88km travelled in a time of 4hr59
Average 18.3kmph
Max speed 43.5kmph
Odometer 877.1km
Weather was wet and windy, hard work into the headwind and surprisingly wet despite the light misty rain it appeared to be when stationary. Terrain was a little more giving, with the more gentle Swedish landscape making our journey a little easier.
We set off from our little campsite at a reasonable hour, with a bit of cloud overhead but feeling positive about our 'short' day ahead. Still a little under the weather health-wise, we were making fairly good time when we stopped in for coffee at 'Stencafe' where we met the lovely Vivianne Englund, a fellow diner in her 70's who invited us to stay at her summer vacation house some 50km away!!! Not backwards about coming forwards, the racy Vivianne only wanted to know if we were looking for boys, and seemed nonplussed about the details of our journey, shared in broken English across the cafe.
Back on the road we really began to notice the drizzling rain -waterproofs were back out again and we were regretting our earlier decision in Kolari to remove the gaffa tape from our shoes, which were soon squelching with every turn of the pedal....We compounded our misery by deciding on a whim to ignore the cycle route signs for the more 'direct route' to Kalix which resulted in our last 10km into town following the E4 - the Swedish coastal motorway with a narrow tarmac shoulder and a lot of big, speeding vehicles.... Cold, wet and very hungry (well, Hazel, anyway), we managed to find our way into the city centre with the help of a very kind cyclist in the supermarket with only about an extra 10km added to our total for the day!!!
Luckily the rain had eased, and we set up our tents by a stretch of river (still no seaside coast in sight!) and headed straight for the sauna - thank you Sweden! Once the blood began moving into the fingers and toes again, we jumped into the showers and pulled out the cosmetics - ready to hit the town for some Saturday night partytime!!! Unfortunately, we seemed to have chosen the wrong town for after wandering the streets for some 20mins the only locales we could find open at 9:30pm were the 5 star hotel (which despite the makeup, we thought probably required a more appropriate attire than dresses, fleece and sneakers) and the supermarket!! Oh dear.... So supermarket it was, and after enjoying a delicious meal in the very well equipped kitchen (as self-appointed head chef and packer of sandwiches, there is no end to my appreciation for a well-stocked camp kitchen), we enjoyed a few games of cards before retiring to our tents, exhausted but looking good!!!
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