Brenton's Charity Cross Continent Cycle

The Final Chapter

2010-01-10T16:38:00.000-08:00

The 7 hour boat trip from Bari (Italy) to Durres (Albania) was relatively peaceful and relaxing. I had the cabin to myself so a good few hours sleep was had.

I arrived in Albania at 9.00am and was eager to make a dent into Eastern Europe. After an hour was wasted finding maps and Albanian currency I began my cycle towards the Macedonian border. About 3 hours in, I came across a fellow Cross Country cyclist (Greg from Switzerland). We cycled through Elbasan and spent most of the afternoon together until Greg decided set up camp for the night at around 5.30pm. With still a few hours of daylight left I was still eager to continue towards Macedonia. The night soon came along with a heavy thunderstorm. With little options of a convenient place to set up camp I was forced to cycle through the Albanian mountains with the only light exposing my path being the lightning. I was fortunate to come across a small restaurant with the owner offering me a place to sleep, spaghetti, few cold beers and a seat in front of the fireplace. Perfect!

I began cycling down the west coast of Macedonia beside Lake Ohrid, making my way through Karch towards Bitishiti. Very beautiful! I arrived at the Greek border at 5pm with a sunny sky above. Very excited to have conquered one country and beginning another. The customs officer at the Greek border explained to me that it was 40kms to the town of Florina. He also said that there was a big hill that went for roughly 8kms, followed by a long descent.

I stupidly assumed two things. One was his definition of a steep hill was nothing compared to the hills I had already climbed. Two, he over-exaggerated the distance of the hill. If anything he was being modest.

The hill was just under 10kms in distance, and the gradient was 12%. To give you an understanding of how steep 12% is, the bike would come to a complete stop with every rotation of my pedals. The clouds came over me shortly after my ascent, and the storm and night soon followed. I was climbing that hill for a little under 3 hours, with the only light to show my path being the lightning flashes and the odd car headlights.

I reached what seemed to be the top of the mountain after battling a slow puncture and icy roads by approximately 10pm. It was there, that I came across a ski lodge, and beside it a restaurant. The Ski lodge was not in any way helpful and I was told to turn back and travel down the hill 2kms, to find accommodation. I felt so passionate about the kilometers achieved; especially those uphill, that I refused to backtrack to perhaps risk not finding the accommodation.

I then went next door to the restaurant, where I had to compose myself before entering as tears of fear began to develop. I took a deep breath and said out aloud, “I am going to attract what I need”. The restaurant was only serving one table of 17 people, which was fortunate at the hour. I made myself look as presentable as possible and then approached the waitress. In broken English, and a little help from a gentleman sitting at the table, I begun explaining my predicament. Having just crossed from Albania, I was without any currency and the restaurant did not accept any form of plastic. I was again very close to tears when a gentleman from the table stood up, interrupted me, and said, “I have read about your story”.

My first instincts were that he was mistaken. He then continued to describe details of my trip that proved he had indeed read about me. I had put my story on a website for travelers called couchsurfing.com. It was here that ‘Vassillis’ and some of his friends had read about my story. He then insisted on paying for my night’s accommodation, and also my dinner. I was blown away. I was escorted upstairs to the cabin suite, where I had a quick shower before joining them at the table just as the mains were being served. What an amazing evening.

I awoke early the next morning, and repaired Wilson’s back tire. I filled my water bottles, oiled Wilson, and was on my way. Funnily enough, it was all down hill to the town of Florina (24kms). Stunning! I then made my way along the Greek Riviera spending nights in Thessoloniki, Kavala, and Alexanderpouli. before reaching the Turkey border. I had a small run in with a Turkish truck driver at the border which nearly cost me my life, but turned out fine in the end. Roads in Turkey were long, straight, hilly and scenic. The weather was fantastic. As dusk was falling, I was shown some of Turkeys beautiful countryside. The motorway into the city, was extremely difficult for Wilson and I. As I drew closer, my excitement grew, and my focus dropped forcing me to take a moment off my bike. I regained my focus and tackled on the remaining 15 chaotic kilometers, before arriving to my destination.

I did it. London to Istanbul.

6113kms

57 Days

116 Eaten flies

Numerous bottles of wine

561 photos

2hrs 31mins video footage

Many friends for life

Words truly are inadequate to describe this experience, but if I had to choose one, Magical.

More Photos

2009-04-29T17:52:00.003-07:00

Week 6

2009-04-29T17:28:00.000-07:00

I arrived in Porto Torres at the very top of Sardegna at 1.00pm. My next significant landmark was Cagliari-very South coast. Here i would then get the boat to the West coast of mainland Italy.
Within an hour of the boat docking at Porto Torres i received the disappointing news that the next boat departing Cagliari was at 6.30pm the following day and the last one to my destination for the next 9 days. I immediately saw this as a challenge. 300kms in a day and a half. Wilson and i were off!
The plan was to spend the afternoon on the coastal route and then depending on how much was achieved that day would consider the dangerous motor way the following day.
The coastal route was both beautiful and very tough. Not helped by tough winds and continual rain.
I cycled to 9.00pm and was then rescued by to elderly women who sheltered me and prepared a magnificent meal for me.
With only 118kms achieved the prior day, i was forced to wake early and make my way towards the motor way. To get a concept of the dangers of cycling on the motorway, its equivalent to a Ghostbuster crossing the streams!
After i stressful 177 km day on the motor way, i finally made the port at 3.53pm. It was a 17 hour boat trip to Napoli.
The boat docked at 12.00pm, i didn't waste any time. I headed straight towards the Amalfi coast. I passed Sorrento and spent the night in beautiful Positano
The Amalfi was magical.
Beautiful little villages in crevisis's in big cliff faces along a sparkling coast.
I then continued down the West coast of italy before darting inland to begin my cross country and over mountain journey to the East coast. Bari
Having looked at the terrain on a map prior, i knew i had it tough for the next few days.
The inland was so hilly and remote that at times i was forced to cycle until 10.30pm with little food and water. Was even escorted by a random wild donkey on a busy road. A story that i will have to tell you when i next see you. After 3 days of tough inland cycling and 2 punctures, i could see the water on the East. Very, very exciting!
I rewarded myself with the use of my ipod. Wilson and i literally danced our way down the East coast to beautiful Bari. Few days rest here.
Next stop Albania followed by Macedonia, Bulgaria, Greece and then finally Turkey.

Final straight!

Week 5 Photos

2009-04-29T17:23:00.001-07:00

Week 5

2009-04-29T17:13:00.000-07:00

After leaving Marseille i was immediately struck with some serious size mountains. Good day for dad to have ended on i thought.
Dad was missed.
What i lacked in companionship i made up with in Kilometres covered. 141km on my first day alone. The next significant landmark was Nice. I took the longer more scenic route. WOW! Stunning.
It was everything you imagine the french riviera to be and so much more.
I detoured slightly to visit St Tropez. Was exactly how i imagined it to be. A playground for the rich. Some of the boats were fantastic.
Wilson and i stopped for a drink on the dock, well it was more like a stage for the remarkable boats and their owners to show off their toys and lifestyle to the hundreds of people both walking by and dining at the nearby restaurants. The boat to my left had an overweight owner enjoying the company of what looked to be young work associates, expensive champagne and an extremely attractive women many years his younger. I must have been looking at him and his lifestyle for about 15 mins ( with a little envy) before being brought back down to earth with a bang. To my right, walking along the promenade was a young down syndrom adult. He was looking so happy. It was the manner in which he was holding on to the arm of what looked to be his brother that got me. Holding onto this arm as though it was his source of happiness. To my left, every requirement and luxury man could desire and to my right someone just as happy with just a hand to hold onto.
It was at this point that i wanted to leave. Dont get me wrong, St Tropez is very scenic and entertaining. I was just scared that the envy would start misdirecting my moral compass. Also at this point was just made aware of a very dark and ominous cloud heading my and Wilsons way. We were off.
The rest of the riveira was amazing. Especially a particular section called Esterel or nicknamed the red rock. Just breathtaking!
I got to Nice with a few hours to spare before my boat to Corsica departed.
The boat dropped me off at Ajaccio at the inconvenient time of 11.30pm. A few beers in the town and then lights out. My destination in Corsica would be Propriano on the South West coast. It would be this journey that i would first be broken.
Extreme winds and wet weather and a continual climb of 17km (just under 4 hours) would bring me to yelling and tears. You see, its the unknown that breaks you. If you are told at the beginning of the day that you had 4 mountains or a 17km climb, then you could get mentally prepared for it.
The scenes after this were unbeleivable!
Did the scenes only look so good to me because of what i had to go through to get there?
or...are real beautiful things designed to be hard work to appreciate?

Next stop Sardegna (Italy)

Charity Wine Fundraising

2009-04-16T19:02:00.000-07:00

To all of those who have made donations and given their support so far, I cannot thank you enough. To anyone who wants to be a part of this great cause, or wants to continue supporting the Childrens Oncology Foundation... Premium Australian Wines, sourced from great little wineries around Hunter Valley & South Australia, are being sold for $15.

There are 5 varieties to choose from, including

- A spectacular King Valley Vintage Cabernet Sauvignon 2005

-Wilbriggie Vintage Shiraz 2005

- South Australian Vintage Reserve Brut

-Hunter Valley Semillion Sauvignon Vintage 2008

-South Australian Chardonnay Vinatge 2007

$5 from every bottle goes towards getting me to the finish line, which I am well on the way to doing, thanks to the support of everyone.

These can be purchased from Wilsons Place, 65 Bondi road, or make your order, by emailing ash@wilsonsplace.com.au

Cheers

Week 4 Photos

2009-04-16T04:38:00.001-07:00

Week 4

2009-04-16T04:34:00.000-07:00

The rest of the day was extremely emotional after dad had decided to just battle on to the nearest main city and then head back home.

The following night we stayed at a campsite at the top of an enormous hill, as we got to the area to assemble the tent late in the afternoon we could not help but be blown away by the veiws. Here we could see the Alps (some still with snow on them) and we could also see no sizeable mountain for as far as the eye could see(65km). This was encouraging.

We could also see the Rhone river which runs all the way to the top of Marseille. We were really boosted by this!

We felt that if we stay as close to the Rhone as possible than it must be flat. So we began and saw our first sign to Marseille 317km. It would actually be 450km from this point before getting into the city as we must take longer routes on the bike.

As the weather warmed we began staying at campsites more frequently and my cooking became something that Gordon Ramsey would enjoy. On one wet afternoon when coming to a sign directing us to a campsite in the other direction but not giving us how far, we decided to knock on the nearest house to ask them. Here we were invited to the spend the night in the cute and perfect little cabin on the back of the farm with and open fire!

Ha, we couldnt belive our luck.

We were a day out from Marseille and dads attitude and motivation had changed, we were both so keen to get there and have cycled from the top of France all the way to the bottom. About 15km from Marseille after having cycled 93km already and our previous 2 being over 100km each we ran into some trouble. It was not winds, nor a puncture nor a hill. But a gang of hoodlums. After getting direction from many people to get into the city safely we found ourselfs in a dodgy looking area. 2 boys rode up to us on thier motorbike and said something in French.

I replied "no comprend" immediately they were excited with the fact that we were obviously out of town and called thier friends over. I told dad to immediately cycle and we did. The boys followed and began attempting to knock dad and i off the road for the next 500metres before probably realising that they were becoming too far away from the possy and at risk of an ass whooping from dad and I. We were both shaken up and decided just to pull up the night at the nearest hotel. Our Marseille arrival was delayed.

BUT WE MADE IT!

1634km from our origin-London

Here we are staying a few nights at the Aunty and uncle of Sophie, the lovely wife of our hero who rescued us from the rain just outside of Paris.

Here i sit nervous for dad is not continuing with me.

Tomorrow morning (16th April 2009) i will begin the next 3 month adventure on my own. I will begin towards Nice and then decide on what route to then take towards Istanbul.

My companion will be missed

I am scared.

Week 3 Photos

2009-04-16T02:10:00.000-07:00

Week 3

2009-04-16T02:06:00.000-07:00

Week 3

Well if cycling in to Paris was tough, then cycling out was punishing. We had special directions for cycling out they were very detailed and specific. We had a campsite booked about 100km away.

We began the day leaving Paris from Notre Dam at 7.40am and after a day that included getting lost in the forest, me falling off, and so many left and rights we arrived at our destination at (Fontainbleu) 9.00pm. 110km later. There was just enough light to set up the tent and for me to cook a pasta dish with our portable stove. Maybe a cheeky bottle of french wine was thrown down. From here on we really started knocking of some km. We both agreed that we would get of the hectic roads that although were more direct did offer a risk.

We than started going through the villages on the C roads. This offered veiws that could only be described as breathtaking. Absolutely stunning! Over every hill and around bend was like another oil painting. Truly magnificent! Unfortunately these scenes came at a price. Hills. Some up to 14 percent gradient and lasting up to 10km or 1 and a half hours. Now although i found them tough it never got me down, dad on the other hand began to struggle. Having shown fitness and guts that most 26 year olds would be happy with not 65 year olds. He started to feel it. As we got to the French Alps the hills obviously increased. Now, these hills dont just go up and down they wrap around mountains. So you are cycling up at 4km/h for around 2 hours with the knowledge that you are not actually achieving any km towards you destination but actually just expending valuable calories. This is very disheartening! Dad began considering the fact that he may not make this all the way to Istanbul.

Dad and i have been like best mates, Motivating one another up hills, helping each other out with any problems, giggling about certain aspects of a particular days cycle and enjoying a beer at the end of each days conquest.

We agreed that we would only cycle to the fringe of Lyon and then make our own way in to avoid complications. The hills continued the first few days after Lyon, with our average per km per day dropping to below 50km. The scenes and cute little villages that we would spend our lunches and dinners dinning at somehow increased in beauty. France is so neat and well groomed but you never see anyone doing neatening or grooming.

Me and dad were dining at some great venues and meeting some spectacular people. In a georgous town name Thizy we stayed in a little hotel at the top of hill, the owners here ( Alen & fraiches) on hearing of our charity cycle had the local press come and interveiw me and buy my beers all night.

One day, after waiting at the top of a particularly long and steep hill for over 25mins with dad not to be seen i decided to decent to see if he was alright. I found him not to far from the top walking his bike up (also very tiring). It was here that dad said to me he wouldn't go on.

I was gutted.

Week 2 Photos

2009-04-16T02:02:00.000-07:00

Week 2

2009-04-16T01:51:00.000-07:00

WEEK 2

Week 2 began with the excitement that we would be in Paris in a few days. The roads were pleasant so far and not too hectic. The evenings so far had been extremely cold, forcing dad to have to buy another sleeping bag as his just wasnt adequate. We left our campsite and begun what was going to be a 74km cycle into Paris with Marcus Rueben (friend and host in Paris) would be meeting us at the Louvre. 34km in we stopped for lunch with no dramas and filled with such excitment with the milestone that lied ahead.

We began the last 36km and was immediately struck with difficulty. The roads we had been on, no longer allowed bicycles. We asked many locals and all seemed baffled and unfortunately thier English was about as good as dad and mines french put together.

After attempting all routes for over 3 hours we decided it would be to dark soon to continue and that we are best to pull up for the night and try again in the morning. With rain becoming heavier and the winds increasing and no campsites in sight. We decided to look for a quiet and hidden away spot to set the tent up. After looking behind public toiletes, railway stations and service stations to no avail we, we agreed that a hotel is our last option. The first 2 were fully booked and then the third was not interested. A bus driver could see our panic and stopped and helped. He escorted us to 2 other Hotels that were all booked and then desperately to the police station where he had hoped to get more assistants then we did. Finally to a final hotel that again refused. We were then forced to get back to work having occupied over 2 hours of his time. Hienry we thank you!

At this point dad and i are really panicking, as the rain is coming down hard and its starting to get dark. At exactly this point a bald man comes over and begins to listen to dad and mines desperate plea with the hotelier for accomodation for the night. Offering double the money for practicly a bathroom to sleep. The bald man interupts with "you can stay at my house". Dad and i are blown away and begin immediately offering money or dinner to keep the offer legitiment. He declines quickly and simply says " all i want is your story".

We than followed him back to his house where we were greeted by his wife Sophie his 3 children Kenza, Ines and little Nael. His wife and children did not even begin to question whom we were just trusted that if we are welcome by Brahim(husband) then they to would welcome us. What followed that night was truly magical. Dinner, wine, cheese, conversation and i read a bed time story to Nael the 3 year old boy in English which the father encouraged.

We spent the night in warmth and were directed in the morning to get to Paris, after having a full breakfast of course.

In Paris we spent the weekend sightseeing, relaxing and and watching England deal with Slovakia. This was followed by more beers than any human or animal should drink.

The 2 rest days in Paris were our first in 8 days. And they were great!

Next stop Lyon

Week 1 Photos

2009-04-16T01:29:00.000-07:00

Week 1

2009-04-16T01:22:00.000-07:00

WEEK 1

Departure of london was smooth and with little hassle, we cycled through hilly & sunny Kent to our first nights accomodation in Chart Sutton, Maidstone.

The hosts were Susan and Don Nelson (Aunty & uncle of a great friend Ben taylor). Here Dad and i received beer, wine, food and extreme kindness. Perfect combination after our first cycle with a fully loaded bike (54kg) for 71km.

We departed the following morning to make our way to Dover, We stayed at a camp site in the white cliffs in Folkestone. Having earlier had to fix our first puncture, the temperature through the night was -6. And it definitely felt it!

After getting rid of the frost from the bikes we proceeded to the docks where we cycled on to the Ferry for a one and a half hour journey before our tyres touched the french soil.

After 1 night in Calais we proceeded down the very cold but extremely beautiful west coast of France. The winds made it tough and at times had to battle to keep the bike straight as the panniers (bike bags) make a great sail for the wind. We continued past Boulogne and and Le crotoy sleeping at Campsites, cliff edges and perhaps the odd motel before heading inland towards Amiens.

Here we had our first taste of cycling into major cities. After being escorted off the motorway that we some how found ourselfs on we made it there. Average mileage per cycling day was around 75km.

Ameins was lovely but we were both too keen to get back on the bikes and battle the feirce winds to complete what would be stage 1 and also get our first veiw of PARIS