Thank You

Candace, Jake, and Mila—Germany

Katia—Italy

Andre—Slovenia

Palona—Slovenia

Staff at Hostel 40—Serbia

Victoria—Romania

Olga and Theo—Moldova

Evon—Ukraine

Alyssa and family—Ukraine

Freerk and Hareld—Freighter across the Black Sea

Emzar—Georgia

For welcoming us into your homes and families.  For talking with us, even though we did not speak your language and you did not speak ours.  For feeding us and housing us.  For becoming our friends.  For supporting us when we needed it most.  For stepping forward and offering help to total strangers.  For helping us keep our sanity.  For helping us remember how good people can be, and why we wanted to travel like this in the first place.

Thank you.

To Bike or Not to Bike?

That’s not really a question. 

After our bikes were stolen, Will and I were in a bit of a quandary:  What do we do next?  We decided to buy packs and hike/walk/train/bus/whatever-it-took to get us across the continent. 

Now, we both agree that we probably should have just bought cheap bikes and kept on riding.  But, with the wounds the theft caused still fresh, buying a new bike felt like replacing a dead relative. 

What we didn’t realize at the time was how much our identities were tied to our bicycles.  We loved being bicycle tourists.  We loved that it set us apart from the hoards of backpackers who were limited to trains and buses; who stayed in cities and slept in hostels and almost never actually met “the people.”  As terrible as it sounds, we loved the fact that our bikes clearly, and from a long way off, marked us as different.  We loved that our bikes gave us the freedom to leave a place we didn’t like, to keep searching for a better camping spot, to get out of town and into the countryside and away.  We loved that we saw the county and not the city, met the people who didn’t speak English and hadn’t seen an American in who knew how long. 

I’ll admit that bikes also made some things more complicated.  I’ll be very happy if I never get shaken down for a bribe by another train conductor.  Trains and traveling with bikes, but not by bike, was a bigger pain in the ass than I ever imagined.  More than once I promised myself that, on my next bike tour, it will be solely by bike—just to avoid the hassle and cost of transporting the thing.  But, by and large, I still think traveling by bicycle is the best way to travel.

After the bikes were stolen, we had to come to grips with the fact that we were no longer bicycle tourists.  Our adventure was over; from here on out, we were just travelers—backpackers, even.  After weeks of seeing ourselves as better than them, we were them. 

We could no longer escape the towns.  While we probably could have gotten away with bandit camping (just camping anywhere out of sight) despite being in the European Union, we were no longer able to get far enough out of town to feel comfortable doing so.  We were weighed down by forty pounds of pack, which kept us chained to the towns, cities, and trains that we most wanted to avoid.

Once we came to grips with the fact that our identities had been stolen along with our bikes, we were able to work on a new way of seeing ourselves.  We ended up having a good time.  We ended up seeing amazing places and meeting amazing people that we would not have seen or met by bicycle.  We ended up learning more about traveling in Europe and deciphering train codes and freeway signs and languages that, by bicycle, we didn’t need to know.  We ended up swimming in seas and lakes, hiking in mountains, and riding through countrysides we would never have seen because we would not have been there in the first place.  There were even a couple of times where, seeing a biker work his way up a mountain in the rain, or maneuvering through insane traffic, we would realize that we were happy not to be in the same situation.

But.  We would often say, “This road would be so fun to ride down.”  Meeting bicycle tourists at campgrounds, it was painful—physically painful—to hear them talk about routes; to watch them pack up and head out in the morning.  When we saw a bike tourist, we both would follow them with our eyes until they were out of sight, longing clearly visible in both of us.  The most common phrases we said in the second part of the trip, as sad as it is? “I miss the bikes” and “I wish we had the bikes.”

The trip was not the trip that we wanted.  But it was the trip that we got.  Half of me wishes the bikes were not stolen—both because it made what was supposed to be a bad-ass bike trip into a… well, just a trip, and because having something taken like that just hurts.  But the other half of me knows that the trip we had was worth it.  The trip we had taught us things that the trip we wanted would not have.  Maybe the most important lesson in that is your trip is what you make it… no matter what happens to you, it’s all in how you react.  I don’t think we were wrong to be sad, or confused, or lost, after the bikes were taken.  I think we managed to make do with what was handed to us, salvage what we could, and still have an amazing time… albeit with moments of (sometimes extreme) sadding. 

We did what we could.  We enjoyed what we could.  We learned what we could, and as much as possible we tried to laugh when we knew it was all we could do. 

East to West

We started in Armenia, and slowly made our way west.  For me, this trip acted as a slow re-integration back into western society—a way of easing the transition after being abroad in a very different culture for two years. 

First we saw more supermarkets—no longer were they only to be found in capital cities.  Our first visit to a real supermarket (I believe it was in Romania) was unreal for me.  Will had to keep saying “no” as I pointed to things I hadn’t seen in two years.  While I didn’t get lost, it was kind of a close call—so many isles, so many foods… Sadly, peanut butter continued to be an elusive product.

People riding bikes—both for practicality and for fun.  Once we hit Ukraine, bikes were no longer in the sole possession of children.

Women drivers.  And, more than that, women drivers who had men riding in the backseat. 

Women drinking at cafés.  In Romania we saw a woman with a young girl.  While the girl played in the little sandbox, her mother sat, drank a beer, and smoked a cigarette.  And no one thought it was weird.

Well maintained roads—even small ones with few cars.

More travelers—backpackers on trains, mostly.  Less curiosity about us, even when we were in small towns.

Stricter and stricter rules on camping, that were more and more enforced, the further west we got.

More English. More Americans.

The changes were sometimes subtle, but definitely there.  Now that we’ve been back in the States for almost a month, there are things that still trip me up—shopping in stores, for example.  Even though we did this throughout Europe, for some reason here it’s just different, and occasionally a cause for some anxiety.  After peeing on the side of roads for two months, and in squatty-potties for two years, I don’t understand the complaints I hear about the public bathrooms here.  At first I felt so uncomfortable here—like everyone else had gotten a memo on how to behave and how to act and I was out of the loop.  I, quite honestly, couldn’t wait to get back away to where I at least knew things would be weird and strange.  But now that I’ve had some time to adjust, the great things about being home are coming out.  All the friends and family stuff, for sure—but I’m talking more the endless supplies of peanut butter.

Take Me Home

As most of you who read this blog know, Will and I flew home from Germany on September 13^th.  Sorry for the delay in an update—we’ve both been a bit busy getting home, seeing family, and finding (or getting back to) work.

I’m going to try to keep updating this with posts that I meant to write while we were traveling, but couldn’t because of limited access to internet/computers or because I just had better things to do.  We’ll see how many of those I actually write.

Quick update on our last days out:

We climbed the Zugspitze, Germany’s highest mountain.  Friends of Jake’s were going and invited Will, me, and Nela (a Czech girl who was also staying with Jake and Candace) along for the ride.  It was a long day… made even longer for us, as we had to camp three kilometers away and wake up at 3:00 am to meet the others at the bottom of the mountain.  The sun rising over the mountains was beautiful.  The mountains were beautiful.  We kept making jokes about who was going to twirl in the fields and sing songs from “The Sound of Music”… but, to be perfectly honest, I kind of felt like twirling and singing just because it WAS so beautiful.  The one bad thing about the day was the fact that everyone in Germany had the same idea we did, so we followed a trail of people all the way up the mountain. 

We went swimming in a huge outdoor pool that was absolutely freezing.  The only reason I actually went in was the hoards of old ladies who gently heckled me until I was actually swimming. 

We hiked up to a waterfall.   We fixed up some bikes for Jake and rode around town.  We played hide-and-go-seek in the ruins of an old castle.

Made foam swords and had battles with Jake.   Walked and talked and cooked and played with Candace and Mila.

We cooked a “medieval” dinner for Candace and Jake, complete with an invitation written in German (thank you, google translate!), rotisserie-style chicken, two kinds of potatoes, three kinds of bread, and innumerable sides.  Fancy dress was required… or, as fancy as we could get.  Keep in mind… we’d been traveling for two months. 

Relaxed.  Enjoyed having a place to relax.

Flew home.  Randomly ended up on a flight with one of my friends from Peace Corps. 

Walked into the waiting hoard of family and friends who came to meet us at the airport.

And… Home.

Final Count

 

Countries visited (minimum 12 hours):

• Armenia
• Georgia
• Ukraine
• Moldova
• Romania
• Bulgaria
• Serbia
• Slovenia
• Italy
• Austria
• Germany

 

Types of transportation taken:

• Train
• Ambulance
• Bicycle
• Cargo Ship
• Car
• Tractor
• Bus
• Foot
• Taxi
• Motorcycle
• Pedal-Powered Buggy
• Cable Car

Days spent biking: 28

Kilometers biked: 1,100

Days spent without bikes: 37

Hospital visits: 2

Number of newspaper stories written about us: 3

Countries visited that were in the original plan: 1

Total days on the road: 79

Where the Boom Bands are Playing

"Somehow you'll escape
all that waiting and staying.
You'll find the bright places
where Boom Bands are playing.

With banner flip-flapping,
once more you'll ride high!
Ready for anything under the sky.
Ready because you're that kind of a guy!

Oh, the places you'll go! There is fun to be done!"

Guten tag! (as they say here in Germany).  Many a kilometer has been traveled since last we wrote-- I believe our last report was from Koper, back in Slovenia.  After leaving Koper, we have spent the last couple of weeks (I honestly have no idea how long it has been... my sense of time is all messed up) using whatever manner of wiliness and transportation necessary to get to Trento, Italy.  There we met the most wonderful of couchsurfing hosts, Katia.  She took us to her family's lake house, where we swam to our hearts' content.  We played with her nieces and nephew, we ate delicious, traditional food until our stomachs threatened to burst. She took us hiking in the Dolomites.  She showed us around town.  She was, essentially, awesome.  

After Trento came a week of camping.  Again using whatever means necessary, we made our way slowly up the highway, forever heading north.  We camped.  We rode bicycles (free from one particular campground).  We swam.  Went to a horrible, horrible museum.  

And now, we are in Garmisch.  We have been the luckiest of travelers when it comes to places to stay:  while a few of the couchsurfing contacts we made ended up bailing on us at the last minute, we have met the most amazing people who welcome us into their homes.  First Polana, then Katia... now we are staying with two friends from back in the states.  Candace and Jacob (and their adorable little girl, Mila) are currently letting us crash in their living room and giving us a much-needed respite from the constant camping and moving around we have been experiencing as of late.  The fact that they are all awesome is just an added bonus.   

We aren't really sure what our plans are at this point.  We are hoping to take a few trips around Germany, hike, maybe do some sort of climbing in the mountains around here.  Our attempts to move our flights up were resoundingly unsuccessful-- the fee for changing dates was more than the cost of our original ticket.  But now, hanging out in a beautiful home with a view of the alps teasing us to go out and play... maybe that's not such a bad thing.

˝You'll come down from the Lurch
with an unpleasant bump.
And the chances are, then,
that you'll be in a Slump.

And when you're in a Slump,
you're not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself
is not easily done.

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lighted.  But mostly they're darked.
A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out?  Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?

And IF you go in, should you turn left or right...
or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find,
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.

You can get so confused
that you'll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place...˝


Well, fearless readers, it has now been about 2 weeks since that fateful night on the train.  When last we wrote, Will and I were gung-ho about hiking in Slovenia.  We hopped on a train with only the shoes on our feet and our lives in our packs and found ourselves in Ljubjlana, the capital of Slovenia.  This is when we realized that we know absolutely nothing about Slovenia.


Slovenia is a beautiful country.  Wonderful people; more mountains, trees, and crystal-clear lakes than you could ever want.  Slovenia is also extremely expensive when you are on a dirtbag cycle-tourists budget  (and yes, i do know there should be a possessive apostrophe right there, but these keyboards are a bit weird and I have not yet managed to find that particular punctuation mark).  The real killer for us?  You cannot camp in Europe.  Real camping, that is-- they have plenty of huge compounds with showers and restaurants and live music in the evening, with hundreds of your fellow travelers near and dear to your tent.


What followed was what I call our ˝sadding˝ period.  We went for a few day hikes, but we couldnt afford to stay in the mountain huts that were required for doing anything longer.  Essentially, we sat around and felt sorry for ourselves while we tried to figure out plan C.  We were in the waiting place... everything we thought of was impractical or expensive or just not possible.  We had no idea what to do, where to go, or how to stop the trip from continuing to unravel around us.


I know... poor, sad, travelers...


But we have recently found a wonderful new thing... maybe you have heard of it; a little thing called couchsurfing.  We met a wonderful Slovenian named Polona who took us in for a few days and took us hiking.  We are headed up to Italy tomorrow to stay with another woman up in Trento.  We are currently in Koper, on the coast of Slovenia.  We have now spent more time in Slovenia than any other country.  We are going swimming in the sea, hiking in the hills, and generally just running amok and having an actual vacation.  Will is trying to improve my swimming skills (not an easy task).  We found a dorm that rents to tourists for super cheap, so we came for an afternoon and decided to stay for four days.  


Next, we head to Trento.  After that, we are actually not sure.  We have been talking about possibly moving our flight up a week or two-- with what we are spending here since we cannot camp, we think it may actually save us money in the long run.  That, and we are tired.  We are, just a little bit, ready to head home.  But dont quote me on that-- we still need to make the change.

So, in sum:  We are still in Slovenia.  We have not hiked the Alps.  We have had a good time at the beach, and plan on continuing to do so until we head up north to enjoy some delcious Italian food.  After that... well, we will see.

The Bike-- scratch that, Walking-- Times (wait... what?)

So!  A few days have passed since our bikes were stolen, and what's the update?

Yesterday (was it really only yesterday?  it seems so long ago!), we were found by the local newspaper.  They printed an article (two now, actually) about us getting our bikes stolen... and now Will and I have become very recognizable.  It's a bit awkward.

The people here have been amazing.  We're staying at a hostel, Hostel  40, and the people here have made what has been a pretty difficult time a bit easier to pass.  We're still in Belgrade, and have had a few days to get used to the idea that we are no longer bicycle tourists.  The article and the publicity got our hopes up a bit that maybe (just maybe) the thieves would realize that they picked the wrong two bikes to sell anonymously and stick them somewhere they would be found.  Or do something stupid and get caught.  One or the other.

But we're still left with the fact that our bikes disappeared someplace between two major cities in Serbia.  There's a lot of distance to cover and while our bikes are unique, this would take a miracle.

So Will and I have come up with a pretty good Plan B.  Zach flies out later this week from Zagreb, Croatia, so he takes his leave from us tomorrow morning.

Will and I have recently (about two hours ago) re-outfitted ourselves for hiking.  This involved buying two relatively cheap packs, a pair of pants for me, and a pair of shoes for Will.  We're going to head to Slovenia, which we have recently found out is the lost gem of the Alps.  We're going to go and hike around for a week or two at a time, until it is time for us to head to Germany to catch our flight home in mid-September.


I've never done any long-distance hiking before-- my family has hiked, but nothing this involved or back-country.  I'm really excited for it-- while I was absolutely in love with traveling by bike, I'm also okay introducing myself to this new form of travel.  We'll get out of the city (awesome) and away from the crowds (even more awesome) and out of the 100-plus degree heat (the most awesome).  We got some good advice from a few other bikers we met here in Belgrade who have been to Slovenia, and they were able to give us some guidance on where to go and how to get there.

It's not the trip we set out on.  But, in reality, this trip has never been the trip I originally had in mind.  And it's been awesome-- more awesome than I could ever have imagined.  I have high hopes for the next couple of weeks, and I'm looking forward to this next branch of the adventure.

We're heading out of town, heading into the wide open air.  We're going.

We'll keep you posted.


"You'll look up and down streets.  Look 'em over with care.
About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there."
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street.

And you may not find any
you'll want to go down.
In that case, of course,
you'll head straight out of town.

It's opener there
in the wide open air.

Out there things can happen
and frequently do
to people as brainy
and footsy as you.

And when things start to happen,
don't worry.  Don't stew.
Just go right along.
You'll start happening too.

OH!
THE PLACES YOU'LL GO!"

The Lurch

"You won't lag behind, because you'll have the speed.
You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead.
Wherever you fly, you'll be the best of the best.
Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.

Except when you don't
Because, sometimes, you won't.

I'm sorry to say so
but, sadly, it's true
and Hang-ups
can happen to you.

You can get all hung up
in a prickle-ly perch.
And your gang will fly on.
You'll be left in a Lurch."


The good Doc sure knew what he was talking about.  We've had our fair share of prickle-ly perches during our month of traveling-- between cancelled boats, hospital visits, and the occasional argument with train conductors, we've had to deal with some stressful situations.  But they've all just seemed to be a part of the trip:  we wanted an adventure, and we were certainly getting one.  After the fact, there was always the general attitude of "this will make a great story."

Saturday morning we hit our first real snag.  We got hung up in that prickle-ly perch and have been left in one hell of a lurch.

Don't worry-- we're all fine.  No broken bones, no more hospital visits. I promise.

We boarded our train to take us from Sofia, Bulgaria, to Novi Sad, Serbia.  It was an overnight train that left around 8:30 in the evening.  Sometime during the night, we fell asleep. And when we woke up the next morning, Will's bike and my bike were gone.  

That's a pretty big lurch.  

Zach's bike is fine-- apparently the thieves only wanted two bikes, and they liked mine and Will's.  We spent the morning with the police, filed a report... and while they say that they have recovered bikes in the past, we are not optimistic about getting either of the bikes back.  

We've already gone over and over everything we SHOULD have done, everything that in hindsight is so clear but in the middle of the night just glazed over.  It's no one's fault but our own, and we acknowledge that fully.  But.  We're all healthy.  None of us are injured.  No one ended up in jail or in a hospital bed.  We have all of our gear-- so we can still camp and have adventures.  We just can't do it by bike. 

We're not going to let this ruin our trip.  Will and I still have a month left to go here, and we'll be damned if we let the loss of our bikes ruin that month.  We're following the good doctor's advice, once again.  He hasn't let us down yet.

"But on you will go

though the weather be foul

On you will go

though your enemies prowl

On you will go

though the Hakken-Kraks howl

Onward up many

a frightening creek,

though your arms may get sore

and your sneakers may leak.

On and on you will hike

and I know you'll hike far

and face up to your problems

whatever they are."

 

Plans?! HA!

You'll get mixed up, of course,
as you already know.
You'll get mixed up
with many strange birds as you go.
So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact
and remember that Life's
a Great Balancing Act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.


Murphy's Law: If it can go wrong, it will.


These two quote epitomize our trip thus far. As Katrina already told you about SOME of our mix-ups I won't bore you with the details but I will add that we are still having an amazing time even if it wasn't the trip we planned. Mostly what this has taught me is that we shouldn't try and plan or at the least we should be prepared to change our plans on a moments notice. I'm glad we have all had the same idea and are thus far very easy going.


For the next week or so we will be back on dirt road and in small towns without internet so we will try and keep you posted but try and be patient.

I won't apologize for the lack of communication.  Because we're having such an awesome time riding around the countryside and meeting the most incredible people. 

We're currently in Romania, in the relatively big town of Tecuci.  We've biked 502 km since we left the boat in Ukraine (those of you awesome folks who are donating based on our mileage, hope you're keeping track!).  Today is our first rest day-- we pulled into town late last night after one of our hardest days (long hills... one after the other... after the other... after the other... after-- well, you get the idea).  We're taking the opportunity to rest up, eat up, clean up, and catch up on our documentaries.  The clean up part was greatly needed-- it's been hot here.  We're eating as much as we possibly can, and taking every opportunity we can to eat ice cream (we're already on number three today, and it's only 5:00.  The catching up on documentaries is just for fun-- we're learning about the rough life in Tasmania right now.

We're heading towards the Transfagarashan pass, heading further and further west tomorrow.  

The trip has been amazing so far-- partly because of the amazing people we've met along the way.  In Ukraine we were invited into a family's home and fed.  We talked for hours.  Oh, and they didn't really speak English... and our Russian leaves much to be desired. 

In Moldova we were taken in by Olga and Theo, a couple of people who have done their own long-distance bike trip.  They saw us when we stopped at a street fair, and caught us just as we were about to head out of town.  Overnight we all became friends, becoming more and more aware of how similar we all are as the night went on.  We spent a good part of the morning with them before they rode with us to the Romanian border and wished us well on our way. 

Now, I'm off to take my second shower of the day.  Insert some wisdom from the good Doctor... here.

The People You Know

We don't have internet access at the moment (still on the boat… still), so I'm writing these up in an attempt to stave off the boredom a little while longer and we'll post them when we are back in internet range.   For some reason I don't have Dr. Suess memorized so I can't provide a little snatch from "Oh, the Places You'll Go"… but I KNOW there's something in there about meeting people, making friends, and maybe even getting help from strangers.

I'll try to find it before posting.  Otherwise, use your imagination.

We've been on the road for less than a week.  I'm a little confused on what day it is, so I'm not sure exactly how long we've been out-- but I know it's less than ten.  Already, we've met so many people who have helped us, befriended us, and generally made this trip worth taking.

I've already mentioned the Georgians and the English teachers in Batumi who helped us figure out the boat situation, helped us get tickets, and gave us a home base to come back to in the form of their hostel.  Nice guys.

Then there's the two Dutch men we're on the boat with-- Howerd and Freerk.  Freerk turned thirty on our second night on the boat, and we had an little birthday party for him, including brandy tasting, cake, and getting yelled at for making noise.  We're the only actual passengers on the freighter-- everyone else is either a truck driver or crew-- and we're kept pretty separate from them.  Our meals are after everyone else has eaten, and while most of the crew speaks English, most of the drivers don't.  Howerd and Freerk have made excellent travel partners for this ride, and we've had some marvelous times in the last three days.

But the one who amazes me the most is a Georgian man by the name of Emzar.  Our first day in Batumi, we ran into a little trouble;  one of us got a bit of food poisoning, got dehyrated, and we ended up needing to go to the hospital (DON'T WORRY.  WE ARE ALL FINE.  I MEAN IT).  Emzar helped us get to the hospital and, at our refusal to leave our bikes behind, stuck them in the back of his work van and took them to the hostipal with us.  He sat with us in the hospital, taught us some Georgian, insisted on buying us lunch.  When we got the bill (48 lauri), we didn't have quite enough to cover it, so he payed it and then drove me to the nearest ATM so I could get the cash we needed to pay him back.  And, when we tried to give him money and buy lunch, he refused.  He practically shamed us for even suggesting that he would take the money. 

This man helped us above and beyond the call of duty.  He could have just walked past us instead of offering to help.  He could have helped us get to the hospital and then left us in the capable hands of the staff there.  But he didn't.  He did so much for us, and all we could do was learn how to thank him in his own language.  It wasn't enough.  We will always be grateful to him.

I hope we don't have another time where we need help like we did then-- once was enough for a trip.  But when we did need the help, someone stepped us and gave it to us, despite not knowing us, despite barely having a common word between us.  And this does kind of reassure me a bit-- that, much of the time, people do step up and help, whether it's by sharing  a cup of tea and some stories to pass the time or by asking if there's a problem, then helping to find a solution.  I only hope we're able to repay some of the kindnesses we've received-- and continue to receive, I'm sure-- in some way.

We're On a Boat

Sorry for the lack of communication, but now that we're on the road, our internet access is a bit skimpy.

Will and Zach arrived in Armenia on June 29th, and we spent the next week touring the country with my sisters, Meghan and Alethea, and Meghan's friend, Vanessa.  I took them to meet my host family from my first two months in Armenia and they met all of my Armenian friends in Hrazdan.  We had a big spaghetti dinner with everyone in Hrazdan on one of my last nights in the town, which involved not only introducing my troup to my Armenian friends but also my saying goodbye to these wonderful people who have been such a big part of my life in Armenia.

We toured around, visiting different important sites in Armenia and introducing the troup to my Volunteer friends who were still in country.  We went on a cognac tour.  We ate a lot of food.

My sisters left on Friday, July 6th-- our original departure date.   However, we decided to hold off on our train ride out of Armenia, mostly to give me more time to wrap up my life there.  Our plan was to take a train into Yerevan, hang out at the train station and run errands, and then board the train to Batumi, Georgia around 3 in afternoon.

One thing we have learned on our trip so far:  plans don't actually work, most of the time.

Despite the fact that the train from Hrazdan was supposed to arrive at around 7:15 in the morning, it actually arrived half an hour early.   While this was annoying, it wasn't too terrible:  we ended up hunting up three taxis who would drive us and our bikes to the train station for a decent price.  We got on the train to Batumi with only a little problems with our bikes-- we ended up having to stack them on the spare bed in our little room, after taking off the wheels.  All in all it was a pretty nice train ride.

However, once we got into Batumi we discovered that our original ferry to Varna, Bulgaria is no longer running-- they cancelled it about a month ago.  After much discussion and a lot of help from some local volunteer English teachers and Georgians, we found out that there was a ferry to Ukraine that we could take instead.  However, no one seemed to be able to tell us exactly when the boat would leave-- some said Wednesday, some said Friday, some said Sunday, but we had to come in on Friday to pick up our tickets….  Once we learned that we would not be catching a ferry in the next couple of days, we headed out of Batumi to a national park about 20k away from the city.  We rode along pleasant roads and over a mild pass, then hit 6 miles of gravel road we had to take down before we would reach the campsite.  It was difficult riding, especially with our bikes loaded down, but we made it to the visitor's center of the park and met a wonderful Georgian family who was celebrating a birthday.  They gave us wine and some food when we asked them if they knew how far we had to ride to get to the campsite, then rode on (mildly tipsy) another couple of miles. 

We ended up camping in a field next to a river.  We played frisbee when it wasn't raining and cards when it was.  The next day, after waiting out a couple hours of rain, we made our way closer to town and camped on the beach of the Black Sea.  We headed back into Batumi on Wednesday and were finally able to figure out the ships:  apparently there were two boats:  one on Thursday and one on Sunday.  However, the first time we came in the woman decided that the freighter leaving on Thursday wasn't comfortable enough for us, so she only told us about the Sunday one.  But when we came back, I guess we were looking a little ragged from camping and biking for a few days.  She told us (through our translator) that we looked "poor" and sold us the tickets.

So now we're on a boat.  We've been on the boat for the last three days, and while it's a great way to travel, it's also extremely boring.  The cabins are wonderful and actually very spacious, the food is decent (although very heavy on the sausage), and our two fellow passengers are a couple of wonderful Dutch guys who help break up the monotony that is our own company.  However, it's three days where we haven't been doing anything-- and I do mean anything.  A lot of naps.  A lot of reading.  A lot of watching for dolphins (there are quite a few that we've seen).  We're all going a little stir crazy at the moment. 


So, you may be asking:  now that our plan has once again changed, where are we going? 

The answer is:  we've kind of stopped trying to plan.  Not really…. but kind of.  We get off the boat just outside of Odessa in Ukraine.  From there we will ride south, cutting through a little corner of Moldova (mostly because we can't avoid it; partly because it's an extra stamp in the passport) and into Romania.  We've gotten a lot of good advice on places to hit in Romania, so we'll bike kind of south-west through the country, biking through a couple of beautiful passes and whatnot.  From there we'll probably stick to our original idea of biking along the Danube until turning off to see Croatia and Plitvice National Park-- that part of the "plan" still hasn't changed.  Again, Zach leaves sometime in the middle of this to fly home, and Will and I will continue on our merry way.

Route Update

Riding on the coat-tails of Will’s super awesome post (he’s right—you should donate!), I thought I’d take the cue from his “I’d update you, but I can’t because I don’t know what’s going on” and fill you in a bit (at least, that’s how I understood it.  Did you not get the same meaning?).

So, it turns out that we are traveling in Europe during the years of the great train expansion… meaning that a lot of the trains we were going to take don’t actually exist anymore.  For example, there are no trains running to Istanbul at this point, because they’re doing a major re-haul of the Istanbul train station to make way for high-speed trains.  This means that in another three years, train travel in Turkey is going to be awesome.  Right now, it means we have a huge distance to cover without a train.  Oh, and if that wasn’t enough, it turns out that right now Greece isn’t really doing international trains… which makes connecting the dots a little tricky.

So you may be asking yourself (quite justifiably): what’s the plan?  After all, if we’re asking you to donate per mile, you might what to know exactly what those miles will be.

At this point, what seems most likely to work is to take a ferry across the Black Sea to Bulgaria.  From there, we’ll probably take a train to Sofia, bike across the border of Serbia to Nis, take a train to Belgrade, the capital of Serbia, then either take a train to Zagreb, Croatia or bike to Zagreb, Croatia… it depends on where we decide to do the majority of our biking.  The variation of this is to bike along the Danube, Europe’s second-longest river.  Apparently this river makes a wonderful bike trail that is highly popular in Europe… so, depending how much work we want to do planning-wise, we might hop on the well-traveled route for a bit, or we might break our own ground.

Now, I know when I first started reading about going to Serbia, my thoughts were along the lines of “that doesn’t seem like a safe idea…”  However, put your minds at ease:  according to all the extensive research I have done (and it actually is quite extensive… now that my projects are over and school is out, I have quite a bit of time on my hands), Serbia is a wonderfully friendly place to bike. 

Of course, this may (and, in fact, probably will) change again before we actually leave.  However, that’s the thinking at the moment.  We’ll keep you posted.

An Office at a Price

I recently started a new position at work so I have been incredibly busy and neglecting a few parts of my life, trip planning is one and this blog is another. I thought I would take a few minutes away from my constantly ringing phone to catch you up, but there's not a lot going on on my side so instead I am going to make an impassioned plea for donations. 
That's right, if you remember this trip is not only a super cool opportunity to see a new part of the world but it is also a super cool opportunity for YOU and I to make a difference in our friends, families, neighbors, and acquaintances lives.

• In 2008, over 616,000 people died of heart disease. Heart disease caused almost 25% of deaths—almost one in every four—in the United States.
• Heart disease is the leading cause of death for both men and women.
• Every year about 785,000 Americans have a first coronary attack. Another 470,000 who have already had one or more coronary attacks have another attack.
• In 2010, coronary heart disease alone was projected to cost the United States $108.9 billion. This total includes the cost of health care services, medications, and lost productivity.

 When trying to decide what organization our group would help it was challenging because there are so many different causes so I did what any child of the computer age would do, I "goggled it". Coming to find out that Heart Disease is the number one killer of all people in the US was a shock. I thought surely AIDS or car accidents were the menace of our great nation but now it's clear my cardiovascular system, your ticker OUR hearts are killing America.
Fear not, there is a force at work to combat the evils of heart disease. The American Heart Association has tirelessly worked for the past 98 years to help end Heart Disease. We can help by making donations and that is precisely what I am asking from you now. I would like YOU to call/text/email/send smoke signals/send a letter to your rider (Will, Katrina, or Zach) and make a pledge to them. This pledge will say that you will donate pennies per mile ridden as we travel through Europe. Help us make this trip even more amazing than it already is. And if this weren't enough I'll also throw in a custom postcard sent to you from a distant land. Don't delay, call today but remember do not send us money, you will be able to donate directly to AHA at the end of our trip. I look forward to hearing from you all!

And a quick closing from the Doctor.

KID, YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!

So...
be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray
or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,
you're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So...get on your way!


Remember we are all in this together and we can make a difference together.


Much Mahalo
Will

It Has Begun

"And when things start to happen,
don't worry.  Don't stew.
Just go right along.
You'll start happening too."

Dr. Seuss, Oh The Places You Will Go


With 44 days left until the beginning of our trip things are starting to happen things are starting to feel real. 


I am making packing lists, researching routes, and buying gear. I tend to be a planner at times, but I am trying to relax and let this trip happen. So far it's working, the packing list is growing, the route is being pieced together and my gear is all but ready.


I love how sometimes things seem to fall into place as if there is some force helping you along on your adventure. Of course the opposite seems just as likely to happen, you feel as if the whole world is against you, with nothing but speed bumps slowing you down. Luckily the world was on my side, or at least "Dave" was, when I recently purchased a bike. 


I found Dave's bike on Craigslist and instantly new it was too good to be true. (some might call me a pessimist) I called and arranged to look at his brand new Kona Sutra late that same night. As I drove an hour across the island I began mentally preparing myself for the inevitable let down. "Surely he misstyped the price" or "It's probably stolen" Only two of the scenarios playing through my head that would eventually lead me to not buying this bike. Fully prepared for the devastating news I pulled up to a nice house in a nice neighborhood and met an even nicer person, Dave. 

He showed me the bike, for which I instantly fell in deep-sappy-emo-kid-with-his-first-crush sort love. As if this weren't enough, he then brought out a treasure trove of extras including, an extra saddle, rack and  bike shoes. Then he blew me away, after hearing a bit about my upcoming trip he walked inside and brought out two great books about bike touring and insisted that I take them as well.

Dave had grand plans of his own, he was set to bike big miles across the pond as well but a back injury ruined those plans. It is truly sad to hear that a genuinely nice, helpful and generous person has been forced to put his dream ride on hold, I can only hope that it is on pause and not a end to his bike trips. I am indebted to Dave, and I won't forget that he started my trip on such a high note. 

The Route

So, you may be asking:  where exactly do we plan to go?

Honestly, we’re still working on that.  But here’s the basics:

I officially finish my service on July 3, 2012.  Around the 27^th of June, Will and Zach will make their way towards Armenia.  My sisters will be visiting me until July 6^th, so the six of us (two sisters, two bikers, one sister’s friend, and I) will bum around Armenia for a few days, taking in the sites, drinking some vodka, and eating some khorovats and dolma.

On July 6, when my sisters and friend depart, Will, Zach and I will take a train up to Tbilisi, Georgia.  From there, we’ll take a train to Batumi, Georgia. 

From Batumi, we’ll bike across the Turkish border to Kars.  Because Turkey is ginormous, we’ll train to Istanbul and spend a few days there.

From Istanbul, we’ll take a train to Thessalonika, Greece, and it is from here that we will actually start biking.

We will bike from Thessalonika, along the northern border of Greece to Igoumentisa on the coast.  From there we will take a ferry to Brindisi, Italy, and bike around there for a bit, carb loading on delicious pasta and enjoying the south of Italy.  Eventually, depending on how much time we have, we’ll make our way to Bari, another sea port.  Sadly, this is where we’ll lose Zach, who will have to head home for various celebrations.  Fear not, for Will and I will continue on our merry way, heading to Croatia by boat.

This is where things start to get fuzzy, as far as the planning goes.  We want to bike up the coast of Croatia as far as we can before shooting over to Plitvice National Park, which has been dubbed as one of the most beautiful things on the surface of the planet.  We’ll play there for as long as we can before heading to the capital of Croatia (Zagreb), take a train from there to Munich, hang out in Munich for a few days before flying home on September 13^th. 

That’s the plan.  Or, what passes for a plan at this point.  We’ll keep you posted.

Hi. I'm Katrina.

As Will mentioned, I’m the instigator of this harebrained scheme of ours to bike across Europe… at least as far as Will and Zach are concerned.

Let me explain the REAL reason why we’re doing this.

I’m finishing up two years as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Armenia.  For those of you who don’t know where that is (trust me, I didn’t either until I found out I was going to be living there for two years), Armenia is located in the Caucuses region of Europe—meaning that it lies with one foot in Europe and one foot in Asia.  It’s a landlocked country and shares a border with Iran in the south (don’t worry, that’s actually one of our safe borders!), Georgia in the north, Turkey to the west (our first closed border), and Azerbaijan to the east (our second closed border).  For the last two years I’ve been teaching English at a high school in a small town, training teachers in new methodologies, learning how to speak Armenian, making Armenian friends, and just generally bumming about. 

I came over here with 58 of the most awesome people I have ever met—my fellow Volunteers, the 18^th group of PCVs to come to Armenia.  One of these wonderful people is my friend Meag.  Meag and I lived in the same village during our two months of training when we first got here, and quickly became friends when we realized that we both enjoyed being slightly crazy in the outdoors (she’s a biker who has climbed, I’m a climber who has biked).  Meag was placed in a town about three hours away from me—which is actually really close, in Peace Corps terms.  One day last winter Meag mentioned that she was planning a trip with a friend of hers from back home—a trip that would include biking across Europe after we had finished our work in Armenia.  I must have wistfully mentioned that taking a long-distance bike trip was a lifetime goal of mine, because she got very excited and invited me along.  I said yes.

However, as is wont to happen when one starts to plan two years in advance, things have changed.  First Meag’s friend dropped out, than my friend who was going to join us.  Somewhere in all this, Zach jumped on board.  Then the unbelievable happened:  Meag got a kick-ass job in Costa Rica… starting immediately. 

Like any sane person, she took it. 

So while Will credits (and, I’m sure, will blame when we’re in our third day of thundershowers or lost in the wilderness of Croatia) me with this trip… it’s not actually me.  But I’ll take the credit, as long as it’s awesome.  Meag can be sure that I’ll be blaming her when we’re in our third day of thundershowers or lost in the wilderness of Croatia.  But, as far as I’m concerned, that’s only fair.

Oh The Places We Will Go

“You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You're on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the one who'll decide where to go...”

I have chosen Dr. Seuss's "Oh The Places You Will Go" as the theme of this blog, trip and while I'm at it my life. I have used what little brains I have in my head to embark on a trip of epic proportions with two High School friends. Lets meet my partners in crime:




Katrina Lefrancois-Hanson
Originator and instigator of this trip, she is finishing up a two year stint with the Peace Corps in Armenia. I met Katrina through Kira Helm (thank you Kira) in High School at the local Climbing wall.



Zach Hale
I met Zach in band at Lake Stevens High School, we were never close, probably because I was a snobby trumpet player, but Zach is apparently super-ridiculously-computer-savvy and works by laptop as he treks around the world. I'm pretty sure he is the James Bond of web design.





Then there's me...Will Trimble I just scored a sweet new gig with Kama'aina Kids on Oahu so the natural thing to do is to ask them for a 2 1/2 month vacation after working for one month, they naturally agreed...naturally.





So that's it, that's us. The group is a strange one but I think each of us fills a personality role and we will learn more about each other as we take this journey together. What journey is that you might ask?!

Starting approximately June 28th we will meet in Yerevan, Armenia then spend the next 2.5 months avoiding death (as best we can) riding bikes across Europe eventually departing from Munich, Germany. Why would we design a trip that is obviously going to be mentally and physically challenging? I'll give you three reasons:
1. It's cheap (we are but two poor post college students.....and one maybe marginally rich post college student....who wish to see something new)
2. To see more (I don't know if it's true but the rumor is "the slower you go the more you see". With us three on bikes I'm sure we will redefine slow)
3. To do something cool for someone else. (That's right, as if this trip wasn't complicated enough, we have decided to add just one more aspect to it. We will turn it into a benefit ride.)

This trip is an amazing opportunity for us three to see the world and it will be something that we will share with our families and friends. To include YOU we are asking for pledges. For every mile we ride we would like you to make a donation to the American Heart Association. We ask you to make a promise of at least a penny a mile we ride. Though our route is still in the planning stages I expect we will ride any where between 500 and 700 miles. So if you were to pledge a dime a mile and we rode 652 miles your contribution to The American Heart Association would be $65.20. I understand that many people are in financially rough times so we ask that you pledge what you can and help us support a worthy cause. If you would like to make a pledge send an email to your rider with the amount per mile you can afford. DO NOT SEND US MONEY (we are poor post college children and we will spend it....probably on something shiny or that will just rot our teeth). The donation you make at the end of our trip will be made directly to The American Heart Association.

As we plan I will bring you updates, I hope everyone is as excited as me!