Day 50 - den Haag to Haamstede

Around den Haag there are lots of sand dunes and it is over these that you cycle towards the hook of Holland.

I think the signposts in Holland are a bit crap. It is very easy to get from a to b, but there is little information on the area. Germany had these great boards about what to see.

I suspect I took the dull way out of den Haag. At one point I tried to follow the dutch R1 but ended up going round a bus and tram stop so followed signs for the hook. It's a shame as I probably missed some dunes.

After an industrial bit following the hook and Rozenberg the scenery gets much nicer. First it goes into Brielle, a fabulous little village circled by a moat, and, of course, a stone church.

Then it start to hop between the islands going past dunes, endless beaches and a giant spit connecting two bits of land. Here there is a cycle path on the middle with the sea stretching endlessly either side and beaches lining the path.

The temperature hit 33 degrees today so stopping for a coke and an ice cream was unbelievable. I'd got through so much water that I was sick of it.

I decided to stop half way to Brugge in a town called Haamstede. The tourist information people directed me to a camp site, and it is good to save some money after Utrecht. I'm also getting some use out of this tent, which hasn't been slept in since the first night. It was definitely good security though.

The highlight of the day was probably the last bit on the way here. I took the long route following the R1 through the dunes, and some people looked shocked as I climbed a 10 per cent one. It was only a couple of hundred metres. It has made me have more respect for pros who do that for kilometres on end.

Day 49 - Den Haag rest day

Once again it was back down the beach to take advantage of the huge turn around in the weather.

The thermometer was hitting 30 and there wasn't a cloud in the sky all day. The tepid sea provided a welcome respite from the scorching sun.

I also set about repairing my bike on the beach, which now strikes me as a blunder as sand could get in the threads on nuts and bolts.

Frustratingly I need a spanner to fit the new spoke as it has to go in behind the gears. Ones pulling the other way would have been easy to replace.

A few days with a missing spoke won't cause any harm though, and the wheel is now a lot straighter after more work on it. I also tightened the brakes as they had needed to be opened to stop the buckled wheel rubbing.

This part of den Haag is brilliant. It is just completely relaxed, which is what I like about beach towns. I've seen so many town centres and churches that it was just good to be by the sea. There are things to explore and next time I go I'd like to visit the Escher museum.

Day 48 - Utrecht to Den Haag

Aside from one puncture and the broken pedals my bike has stood up to the 3000km of abuse well.

Leaving Utrecht it had its first problem to coincide with my wee hangover. One of the spokes on the back wheel had come out where it meets the centre of the wheel. Somehow the thick end which holds it in place had come off or worn away, so it required a replacement.

Luckily it happened right outside a bike shop, but being Sunday in Europe everything was closed.

When a spoke breaks it buckles the wheel, so my only hope was to straighten it and buy a new spoke another day. This was easy enough, but the wheel made me feel uneasy most of the day. I was continually looking, listening and feeling if anything was wrong.

The ride to den Haag was largely uneventful. There is a nice section along the canal to Woerden, which, like most dutch towns, has a huge brickwork church.

There is also a huge intersection just before the suburbs of the capital. It is would be nothing special, but being Holland it has a mini brother for bikes to negotiate the junction.

The Jorplace hostel I stayed in is near the beach so in the evening I went for a walk and a lie down. The sun was out and it was beginning to touch 30 degrees. The Schevingen district doesn't feel like the city with its chilled out beach atmosphere.

Day 47 - Utrecht rest day

My rest day turned out to be not so relaxing after finding out the hostel had no space for tonight.

An epic hunt through the rainy city took me to 4 b and bs - three of which were full and one nobody was in - a hotel and something Google said was a hostel. It had all the appearances with a table of half finished drinks, but nobody about. A neighbour later told me some Slovaks lived there.

Tourist information were nice and helpful, but after phoning round the hostels all they could hook me up with was a 70 euro a night place.

The after 4pm - afternoon is a bit redundant as there is little before it - was equally expensive but much more worthwhile.

I met a guy from the hostel, Ryan, and his mate, Paul, for some pool and beers, which continued into the night. They were cool people to hang out with, though I had promised not to have a beer till I got home. Oh well.

Utrecht is a nice city centred around the Dom church. I'm told it had an important role to play in the end of the Spanish inquisition so that is something to look up.

Now it is a student town and it has that laid back vibe.

Day 46 - Arnhem to Utrecht

There is no such thing as society.

Usually I'd completely disagree with that statement - despite some people believing I make Adam Smith look like a communist - but this trip has often been quite lonesome.

This is not to say I'm lonely, but more that my happiness has been mostly dependent on myself. Before Germany, when there was only one route, this was something I didn't think about.

Now, the Netherlands has brought about choice.

It was raining again, one of the external factors that can dampen the mood.

After making it to Rhenen following a ride along the river it began to get seriously wet. Unfortunately this was probably the nicest region as it entered a national park on the way to Utrecht.

This dilemma is what started me thinking about happiness and choice. As the mercury pushed 14 degrees I didn't want to take long winding routes, but equally didn't want to miss out on beautiful scenery.

I always feel a tinge of regret about something I may have missed.

In the end I decided on going straight along the main road to the picturesque town of Zeist. It is still through the woods, and it would be foolish to have regrets about what I missed.

Plus, I'd already got covered in sheep shit following the route earlier through a path used for grazing.

The point, I felt while riding, is that everything is your decision, no matter how simple. It can be rewarding, if a little lonely.

From Zeist it is a short ride into the centre of Utrecht.

Day 45 - Vreden to Arnhem

I'd been in Germany so long I'd forgotten how much of a pain it is changing country. Suddenly all the signs change and you end up on something called the Flamingo Route.

It seemed to be taking me vaguely in the right direction, but the reassuring R1 marks were gone.

After a while I realised why they didn't bother marking the route: everything is a cycle path. Even the main roads have marked off sections or paths running alongside them.

I later found out I was meant to be following the LP4, but as it didn't connect with Germany's R1 it wasn't immediately obvious.

The general bad weather has continued so it made sense to hammer it along to Arnhem.

My knowledge of the Netherlands outside Amsterdam is pretty sketchy. If you commit genocide you'll probably end up in The Hague and there are windmills, tulips and clogs. There genuinely are still windmills, despite my idle stereotyping.

Arnhem is one of the biggest cities and has a bit of an atmosphere to it. At first it looked pretty ghetto, but developed into a box standard town centre with all the usual chains.

Behind that, though, there is a series of alleyways, which look pretty alternative and are probably quite lively.

Then it started pouring again so I climbed the mountain back to the hostel. 

Day 44 - Münster to Vreden

A really uneventful day with little to see or do except plow on through the rain.

Most of the Münster region is farm land, so once you leave the promenade - the cyclists M25 - then tractors rule the road.

The crops also mean really annoying little flies, which I've never seen in England.

Both Vreden and Coesfeld, my lunch stop, are nice, quiet towns. There was a farmer wedding in Coesfeld town centre, with the couple driving away in a tractor.

More rain is forecast every day for the next 4 days, but there are some good towns in Arnhem and Utrecht coming up, followed by The Hague and Brugge. All with only 600km left.

Day 42 - Detmold to Münster

After riding 136.7 kilometres I'm feeling surprisingly fine. This was about the easiest cycling day since the ride out of Riga.

To start with it dropped about 200 metres, and there were no hills to speak of. The towns on route were also barely worth mentioning so it made sense to take advantage of a cool, dry day to get as far as possible making Münster the perfect destination.

Most of the land in the region is farming, and endless fields don't make great viewing.

The most interesting place on the way was Warendorf, which is famous for its studs. Outside almost every shop there was a painted horse in the pedestrianised town centre.

The other place that could be worth a visit is a nunnery that seeks to replicate biblical times. It was a little bit off route so I didn't go as it was early in the day and I was unsure about whether I'd make the distance.

More about Münster tomorrow as I'm taking a day off.

Day 43 - Münster rest day

There are some really great things about Germany and Münster is one of them.

Here you are more likely to be run over by a bicycle than a car as pedals are in power. And that isn't particularly probable either as everyone let's you cross or pass without a problem.

I've struggled to work out German road rules after being shouted at by a driver who wanted to pull out from the right near Goslar. There weren't any road markings saying I should give way and he was clearly turning into my road. I understand that on Berlin's system of crossroads it is like a roundabout with priority going to the right.

Münster, in contract, doesn't seem to need road rules. Everyone is too courteous.

It is also a nice city to walk around, at least in the old town. There are 4 main churches, the most impressive of which is the Lambertikirche. It looks a bit like a mini Sagrada Familia with its elaborate tower.

Then there is the castle, which is now part of the university. I doubt it would have offered much defence, but it is a beautiful building. A wee bit more attractive than Owen's Park. Behind it is a nice botanical garden, which was definitely worth visiting despite the rain.

The other great feature is the promenade, a path for cyclists and pedestrians that runs right round the old town.

Day 41 - Höxter to Detmold

A quick 55km cycle to Detmold today. With more rain forecast, and a large town close it seemed sensible to have a shortened day.

There wasn't anything of interest so it was head down through the wind with virtually no rest. After arriving it was straight up the hill to the hostel, again at the top of a steep climb. It is pouring down and only about 14 degrees so there is little to do except sit around the hostel.

If there is a break in the weather I might make a dash for the old town and dinner.

Tomorrow there is sun forecast so I might try to go 135km to Münster before a rest day after as more rain is predicted.

Ps. The rain has stopped and there is a place with curry pizza and free WiFi.

Day 40 - Bad Gandersheim to Höxter

It was wet, windy and cold. It wasn't a Tuesday night in Blackpool, but I don't think Messi would have fancied it - and neither did I.

In the end it brightened up, though the rain clouds kept threatening. I've been ridiculously lucky with weather this trip, only being caught in serious rain for two days in Estonia. Today a downpour started again when I arrived at the hostel, cleared up long enough to go out for dinner, before a storm broke out as I arrived back.

Anyway, don't want to give the British a reputation for talking about the weather. There wasn't too much to see on a shortened 74km day. The hills in the distance were pleasant, but there was only one serious 100 metre climb to Stadtoldendorf. With rain threatening it seemed best just to push on.

I hadn't realised how fatigued I was, but the lack of hills made me feel much better. The other major one was up to the hostel. After riding virtually flat along the river the hills bank either side and the hostel is at the top. It is about a kilometre of 10 percent, which hurts with panniers.

Höxter is an absolute ghost town this evening, despite being a Saturday. Nobody is in the restaurants or cafes, possibly because of the weather.

In contrast, the town of Einbeck, my first break of the day, was a bustling market.

I'm probably going for another shorter day tomorrow to Detmold instead of a rest day. While these small towns are quaint there isn't enough to do alone for a day. Maybe in Goslar there was.

Day 39 - Wernigerode to Bad Ganderheim

Today probably hit the highest point on the R1 - at least, I hope so. In the last couple of days it has risen from 40m above sea level to 390 just before Goslar. It then goes up and down hills and valleys. I feel like I've either been stamping away on the pedals or cruising down without putting in any effort.

While the cycling has been challenging - and mostly on gravel and mud - the views have been rewarding. First it goes past a monastery at Drübeck and then through the woods towards Bad Harzburg the path looks out over the valley.

The route climbs over and past Goslar - the region's main town - before winding down to the ancient city.

The central square is beautiful, but a little hard to appreciate immediately. Popping into a bakery made returning for some pictures all the sweeter.

Frustratingly I missed the emperor's palace, the seat of power of the holy Roman empire for 200 years. I even knew it was there, but in my haze of burning thighs forgot to check it out. There is also a mining museum in the hills.

From there it is back up into the hills again, but they are smaller and there is less to see. Signs warn of falcon (or another bird of prey) and one was soaring above. There are also plenty of dragons flies and butterflies in the region, as well as the irritating kind that stick to you in shady patches.

Bad Ganderheim is the next interesting town, around 40km on from Goslar. Other places listed were tiny hamlets.

There appears to be preparation for some youth festival under the church. Lots of German churches have a double steeple, giving them a fortress like air.

Under 1000km to go now, probably in 2 weeks, giving enough time for a couple of rest days.

Day 38 - Stassfurt to Wernigerode

The feeling when arriving after a tough day's cycling is great. I guess it is what motivates people to do run or ride long distances. It is a potent cocktail of adrenaline, relief and achievement.

It also helps when the place is as nice as Wernigerode. The castle looks over the cobbled old town filled with cafes and restaurants. Stassfurt had similar looking streets but a run down feel to it. People wanted to be here.

Going towards the first stop it started entering the highlands. It climbs about 80m up from Stassfurt, which is only about 40m above sea level. It also becomes undulating - a tough proposition with panniers.

The reward is more interesting towns, most of which have castles and old towns. Wernigerode is certainly the highlight of them, but Thale and Blankenburg are nice. Thale had a cable car and the road I took seemed to wind its way up the hills.

Sadly Germany has been a bit of a disappointment for the quality of the R1. They've put a lot of though into making sure it goes through interesting places - in contrast to Poland - but some of the paths are poor. One of them was not really suited for a hybrid, even though mine is set up towards the mountain bike end of the spectrum. They have also hidden signs behind hedges, while at Concordia am See the path goes round in a ridiculous circle. With the hills, a lot of wind and missed sign posts the 96.5km on the calculator worked out a lot more. And my body is feeling it too.

Day 37 - Dessau to Stassfurt

I'm writing this a day later and am struggling to remember too much of the cycling already.

The two major stop-offs on route, especially Köthen Anhalt, were nice, but it is disappointing when your destination is rubbish. Stassfurt was big enough, but had nothing of use. One pension was full, and the place Google said was a youth house had closed down long ago. There was another up the street, but it was just a place for the remaining kids to hang out.

I studied German at GCSE but can't remember anything. I probably didn't learn too much. My first exam was a success though when after wandering around aimlessly for a bit I managed to order some schnitzel and then follow the chef's directions to a place to stay.

Arriving in town is always frustrating due to the hunt for somewhere to sleep.

There isn't much more to say about the place.

Day 36 - Belzig to Dessau

The first half of today's route was the most interesting in a long time, with the exception of Berlin. Poland had unfortunately been rather devoid of sites since Chelmno.

First up was the castle at Raven providing a panorama of the woods that would be my view for the next hour or so.

Then Wittenburg is a fantastic little town, and the home to Martin Luther. There are two large and graceful churches in the cobbled centre, and one of them is catholic, interestingly.

After taking lunch here the path and signposting that had been so good deteriorated. Outside Wittenburg an R1 marker points across the tracks but on the other side there is a path going either way with only Lutherweg signs. It turns out you have to go what seems the wrong way to get over a bridge. From here there is also a lot of cobbles and gravel/sandy paths.

Dessau is another relaxing old town with plenty of churches and a baroque rathaus. I didn't get any pictures after racing to get to tourist info before it closed. After traveling and sightseeing all day sometimes all I want is to sit down with some food.

Day 35 - Berlin to Belzig

Berlin is a ridiculously bicycle friendly city, but riding out of town on a bank holiday it even got a bit crowded.

The route out of town takes in some great architecture, pleasant scenery and a great view at Wannsee after going through the lovely Grunwald. Looking out at the lake I almost cut up someone on a road bike, which were out in force.

Potsdam added to my historical weekend. It is a beautiful town dominated by the old and golden town hall. After here it gets quieter as the city fades into the distance.

Riding with Pat and the couple of days off have definitely made be fitter. All the complaining about the pace he set was not in vain.

Belzig is definitely a place worth visiting if not staying. For a start there is little budget accommodation, with two average hotels charging more than they were worth. The staff in one made Russian service look friendly.

The view from the castle is absolutely beautiful though. If you have the money it is worth staying here. There was also a local play being rehearsed within the walls.

Day 33 and 34 - Berlin

Berlin is an absolutely amazing city. It has this unique atmosphere, probably derived from its status during the cold war.

It is full of alternative people and has a huge art scene, but no one seems to do anything. It would be slightly hypocritical of someone cycling across Europe to accuse people of not working, but it would be entirely accurate. It seems everyone is an aspiring artist or musician.

The architecture and history of the city is absolutely fascinating, and worth checking out for yourself. Even standing at checkpoint Charlie it is difficult to imagine how fundamentally important this city has been since 1933, and even before.

A lot of thanks to Stu too for joining me for the day too.

Day 32 - Letschin to Berlin

Perhaps the most insane day of cycling so far in this tour. 107km to the Brandenburg gate turned into almost 150km after getting lost coming into Berlin and then treking back across the city to Lawrence's house.

From Buckow the ride starts to get really interesting stopping by a beautiful lake. We took a slightly different route along the TF path to get here. In Germany there are so many options, but it easy to confuse them.

From there it is great riding to Kopenick past a host of lakes dotted in the woods and perfectly manicured paths. There are also little beaches to chill out on.

Kopenick old town is virtually in Berlin, and from there it begins to get complicated. Virtually every street is a bike route so it is important to follow the R1 signs. Unfortunately these eventually lead to the river. I can only assume there is a ferry. Instead of hanging around we decided to go over the bridge. Attempting to rejoin the path on the other side we got hopelessly lost.

Although we went past the Brandenburg gate and the Reichstag, Pat had to jump on a train back to Gdansk immediately after arriving at the station. It had been great riding with him for 5 days, even I'd my legs were now destroyed.

From there I headed out to Kreuzberg to meet Lawrence and friends. Beer and bbq has never tasted so good.

Thanks to Lawrence and house mates for putting me up.

Day 31 - Miedzyrzecz to Letschin

Again we settled on another hard day with the wind coming in from the North West. This meant periods of cruising and talking and others of tucking in behind pat to stay out of the wind.

There is not too much to report with the scenery as Poland is so flat. Sometimes fields give way to forests, but when the wind picks up it feels more like a battle with it that anything else.

The first town, Sulecin, had a nice little park where we ate snacks. The R1 takes a meandering route towards it, but we just decided to push straight along the main road.

Our route took us over some hills that proved tough with the fatigue building up and the weight on my back. It was also past a huge army base with tanks overtaking us on the road.

Like yesterday we pushed the penultimate section hard taking us to the German border. After getting there a day earlier than expected we had way too much Zloty left over.

In Germany there was suddenly a beautifully paved dedicated cycle path through the empty countryside. Nothing much exists near the border until the town of Letschin, which has a hotel and a restaurant and little else.

After sitting down thinking we had made it finding out the hotel was full was confidence shattering. After doing over 100km into the wind just being told there is somewhere else 5km away hurt my legs.

Eventually we found a guesthouse after lots of weird looking wooden caravan offerings. These would have been fine but there was nowhere to eat, and the place we stayed offered us dinner.

What has been great about both Poland and Germany is how friendly everyone is despite the communication problems.

Berlin tomorrow.

Day 30 - Trzianka to Miedzyrzecz

Cycling with a partner brings a different philosophy to the process. Alone I just cruise along at my own rate, doing different things. Sometimes I am looking around, checking out the scenery or thinking about random things. Other times I like to cycle hard and get to the next place to have a break.

Pat, meanwhile, does most of his cycling as training on a road bike. This means it is head down trying to set consistent or improving times.

I, like most tour cyclists, want to be part of the picture and see every pedal of the way. For Pat, and most people who cycle in one place such as London, that picture is the bike and the clock. He is seeing things inside himself by pushing his limits.

The desire to push himself resulted in faster times and longer distances for us as we naturally achieved a default compromise position. That was fine with me as it was good to have a change of motivation, and I wanted to get to Berlin for the weekend.

One section we blasted down towards Miedzychod was a beautiful forested area of about 28km until the town. Miedzychod could have been a good place to stay down by a lake. We, however, didn't have time to check it out and were fairly tired by this point, 94km in.

There were a couple of fairly poor sandy sections, which were frustrating as the R1 is mostly brilliant in Poland. The one just west of Miedzychod is almost impossible to ride on, though it is just part of the challenge and experience. I guess I found it is easier for this reason than pat, who struggled on a city bike, but also with the lost pace.

Then again, I could be completely wrong about the philosophy of it all and just struggling as Pat is fitter. Either way, it is what I was thinking as we flew down that lovely wooded section.

Day 29 - Naklo nad Notecia to Trzianka

The weather forecast is predicting rain all week, and the storms were brewing on the train yesterday with lightning in the distance.

With worries about the weather hanging about we decided to get on with it. The large town of Pila was about 90km away so we could always stop there.

The route definitely becomes less interesting at this point in terms of the towns. Most of them are tiny blocks with very little going on and no history.

The landscape is still decent, entering popular hiking territory in the west of Poland.

Pila is big, hut grey and soviet. After a rest we though about going to look round following a detour off the R1 along the river to get into the city. The clouds, however, had other ideas and we decided to get to Trzianka before the storm began.

Luckily it came in behind us, and we made it to the town unscathed. There is not too much to see here. No old town, just a fountain in a tiny strip of park.

Day 28 - Bydgoszcz to Naklo nad Notecia

After a day of renting a bike and catching trains to get back to where I left the route it away 6.30 by the time we started.
A rapid 30km ride into Naklo got us on track. Industry is booming in the town, but tourism is definitely not.

Tomorrow we are going to look to make up for lost time to get to Berlin for Saturday.

Day 26-27 - rest day in Gdansk

Day 25 - Grudziadz to Bydgoszcz

A tale of two cities with names that are impossible to pronounce, but Bydgoszcz was the only place I could get the train to Gdansk from.

Yes, I know it is all meant to be pedal power, but my friend pat is joining me for a week and that requires an airport. Moreover, Gdansk is backwards and we should be kicking off again from Bydgoszcz again on Monday.

The last day of cycling before the weekend was brilliant. It is about 80km, taking you through the tiny hidden gem of Chelmno. Up a climb of about 8 pet cent there is a chess board of an old town. Here I soaked up the sun and atmosphere.

Back down the other side it is a descent of 6 per cent for a kilometre and a half before going up and down it again.

These hills are off the r1, but Bydgoszcz isn't actually on the route.

My own navigational skills have been as dubious as some of the signage going into towns in the last couple of days. The day before I took a copilot inspired route along the river that led to sand, an overgrown path through the woods, sewage (probably) and a fence, meaning I had to climb back up through it.

Today's was infinitely more successful, following a cycle path down a rocky descent and then up a paved hill chasing two guys in lycra. It is always fun to see their look at the panniers.

Bydgoszcz is surprisingly big, and rather industrious. Luckily there are cycle paths along the roads. The old town is small, but this is becoming a modern city and a decent one.

Day 24 - Sztum to Grudziadz

Kwidzyn made the perfect lunch stop after the disappointment of Sztum. The cathedral towers over the surrounding countryside.

All the best towns in Poland appear to be up steep hills, probably because they were defendable in the middle ages.

The perfect view was also supplemented by a tasty bakery and the attractive city centre helped put the life back in my soul.

Aside from these hills the rest of the land is flat and makes comfortable cycling.

Grudziadz is also nice, though not really on the tourist trail if not for the r1. The city centre has a vibrant cafe culture with some outdoor pizza places.

Day 23 - Frombork to Sztum

Most of the time cycling doesn't really require much thought.

If you concentrate on the 75-90 reps a minute - about 15,000 with 5 hours in the saddle - it would get quite boring. That's why time is spent listening and watching the birds, brushing off the insects attracted to the maillot jaune, or just random thoughts. For example, roughly how many pedal strokes I do in a day.

The nature in Poland has been the best so far. There have been foxes, deer and a lot of cattle and horses, contrasting the Baltics where farming seems to have dried up. There was also a badger, but rather sadly one that is visible during the day is likely to have met a car related end.

On other days strong winds, busy roads or tough hills take up thought, but this was one of the easiest 100km I've done.

The problem was that it led me to Sztum, an absolute dead end town. All the young people had got out, and I'm pretty sure the hotel had fleas. The lake was quite nice though.

Day 22 - Kaliningrad to Frombork

As expected the Portovaya Ulitsa leading out of town was grim, and headed onto the busy Suvorova.

Once out of the city limits things began to calm down a bit, and the traffic didn't really have anywhere to go. They are attempting to make improvements to the roads, but Russia really isn't geared up for cyclists. It just isn't in the culture.

The woman in the shop U Mosta at Mamonovo said plenty of Germans come through so hopefully that demand will create better riding conditions eventually.

One biking bonus was the ability to jump the queue at customs, probably so they could laugh at this mad venture. No surprise when they asked if I was going to Germany. I also.got the customary dressing down from one border guard who seemed unhappy the other had told me to skip the queue.

Frombork is a beautiful village dominated by the huge cathedral. Nikolai Kopernik lived and died here, and there are a lot of monuments dedicated to him as well as an observatory.

The preceding town Braniewo is also well worth checking out. It has been absolutely roasting today, really taking it out of me physically. Tempted by an early start.

Day 21 - rest day in Kaliningrad

Kaliningrad is a city with some really nice parts that then spread to the worst of Soviet architecture. The central square, Pobedy, is very pretty backing onto a church, and the pond in the north near my hotel was pleasant.

What is frustrating is the potential Russia throws away. The two Germans I met on the spit said one British guy was cycling all the day round, rather than getting a visa. Two hostel had also opened, one in the best area near the cathedral, but had evidently closed.

Visas are the biggest issue for most travelers, particularly those on a budget. Rich people will probably not go to Kaliningrad anyway.

Just opening the border would create a host of business opportunities, but at the moment they are failing.

The cathedral where Kant is buried is certainly worth checking out, as is the quaint, adjacent fishing village. The fort which now houses the museum of oceanography is interesting, but in the port, which has been overtaken by heavy industry.

I'm not particularly looking forward to getting back out on the Russian roads again, as the way out of town seems pretty busy.

Day 20 - Nida to Kaliningrad

The old saying that Russia has two problems couldn't be less right. The country actually needs to invent a new word to describe just how bad the roads are. Answers on a postcard, though many will probably begin with x, I suspect.

As soon as completing the formalities of crossing the border, including a cheeky attempt to glide past passport control, the road quality deteriorated. Seeing as they only built one road they could at least do something about the potholes.

Still it was better than the road out of Pete until the end of the spit. Due to the mosquito infestation - though there were less, possibly due to the laborious visa process - I decided to power straight through. The forestry and birdsong is fantastic and there are plenty of opportunities to climb dunes, though the infrastructure is way better in Lithuania.

In the end I had a 5 min break to chat to two Germans going in the opposite direction and got eaten alive.

Zelenogradsk is, to be polite, a dump. The road is falling apart and there is all kinds of chaos in cars to get into the national park.

After a sly pan au chocolat it was back in the saddle. To avoid the main road to the city I'd figured out a route down a seemingly pointless road. The problem was finding it as copilot had no maps for Kaliningrad. In the end my Google maps achieved a blurred connection and some roadworks ensured the road was quiet.

The route gets quite busy in the centre and also takes a chunk out of the calculator's distance by bypassing the holiday resort of Svetlogorsk. Seeing as Russia does not like cyclists I am quite happy to do as little cycling as possible here and get back on the eurovelo in Poland.

Day 19 - Klaipeda to Nida

The original plan was to cycle the 100km spit in one go and rock up in Zelenogradsk on the Kaliningrad coast. I was under the misapprehension that there wasn't much there.

After shaking off a wee bit of a lie in following the beers I took the ferry over to the spit. On the way to the pier there is a cool revolving bridge with a ghostly statue climbing out of it.

The Curonian Spit is actually huge. Something I'd have noticed if I'd done some research or just looked at the significant bit of land on the map. After cycling along a cycle path I realised there were a few crossing ones and that I was just going across the dunes rather than along. This afforded some great views and some fun climbing, but wasn't getting me anywhere near the 110km that had to be done.

Eventually I joined the main road, which went fairly direct towards the Russian border. After a quick stop and snack in a small coastal village I set off again. While the spit is absolutely beautiful the mosquitoes are a massive problem. Going under the trees along the coast they are everywhere, meaning you have to brush yourself down reentering the sun. It is best to simply keep moving as they can't land, but do stick if you hit them.

After 50km Nida is the last town before the border. On a little stage near on some grass some bands were playing. One, fronted by two young ladies, were actually very good. My Lithuanian isn't really up to scratch, but they were folk with a few jazz piano loops thrown in. It did leave me thinking about Bill Bailey playing the Pink Panther.

In the evening there was a larger celebration for the opening of the summer season. It was on tv and hosted by two very eurovision presenters, which was mirrored in the acts. Poor pop groups and ageing stars topped the bill. For a while it was good fun, but the mozzies were descending with the sun and the level of sobriety had already set. With a group of people this would be great fun and an escape from the usual Baltic later lad trips.

Day 18 - Palanga to Klaipeda

This was scheduled as a bit of a rest day, but Palanga was so nice I decided to stay there meaning a 25km cruise down the coast was on the cards.

The route takes one of the best kept cycle paths so far through the woods and plenty of people were going in the opposite direction. The path suddenly turns into a rather crowded pavement in the city, but I wasn't planning to push hard anyway.

Klaipeda is a bit of a nothing town except the gateway to the Curonian Spit. There is a tiny cobbled old town with one square sms a bunch of Chinese restaurants. The park on the way to the hostel is also quite scenic supposedly containing 120 sculptures.

In the evening I had a beer and a game of table football with a lad from the hostel called Darren. They seem to love the game in the Baltics, and we were the only ones in the small rock bar, which seemed strange for a Friday. A bit of a sleepy town, really.

Day 17 - Liepaja to Palanga

The girl at the hotel had recommended cycling 50 odd km down the beach to the Lithuanian border. I was quite tempted as the road out of town looked quite busy.

I followed her instructions down through the Jurmalas park cycle path. Rather than leading to the beach it suddenly turned onto the main road. As there were no vehicles in sight in either direction it seemed safe enough.

As it is a coastal road it is quite flat and made for good cycling. There were some beautiful views out to see, but most of the time it drifted inland.

Near the border I pulled into Rucava to spend my remaining Lats and ended up buying a giant bar of milka as there was nothing else to get.

A strange old guy then started checking out my bike. Instead of some peace to eat lunch he insisted I went to his museum of music. While the museum is nothing special, the guy can play almost any instrument. He played songs on the accordion, the saw and a crazy nose instrument. Well worth a visit, though he doesn't speak English.

More fast paced cycling through the wooded border area took me to Lithuania and the tiny Palanga airport, which housed one bus as I rode past.

It would also seem Lithuania and Latvia are about to enter a dispute with the country's airbus right on the border.

Palanga is a local holiday resort. The picturesque main boulevard is all cafes leading down to the pier, which is full of people fishing, and the rest of town is cheap hotels.

The highlight is the botanical garden. A myriad of paths lead to ponds, flora and fauna and a chapel on the hill in the centre.

The Baltics are full of people aged 15-21 and I put this down to the optimism following the revolutions. Wherever you go there are young people out doing things, which is nice to see.

Day 16 - Pavilosta to Liepaja

While this was only a 45 km jaunt down the main road the eurovelo recommended some kind of crazy path through the woods.

I set off over the river and into the woods on a gravel track, but it sooner turned to mud. At one point a bank of sand halted the wheels and it was slow going. The mud had dried in the sun but there were still puddles in the shade and my back wheel slipped through the loose sand that hadn't been flattened by a recent tractor.

Eventually it gave way to another gravel path that made things easier going, while the trees blocked the wind. According to Mytracks the pace had dropped around 25 per cent and that was hard going.

The mud track was probably the wrong route, but it took me off the main road earlier.

Liepaja is a nice town and is geared up for tourists in the summer. The Jurmalas park offers games, while the beach stretches for miles. Sad to say I had a cheek round of minigolf alone - including a hole in one, honestly - where I bumped into the Germans.

Marvin and Thore had not reaches Liepaja last night and ended up camping in the downpour. It still gets cold at night, and rather impressively they had managed to build a fire. Less so, Thore had burnt his trainers trying to dry them and they were held together with tape.

In the evening we had a couple of beers in a famous rock bar, where a live band was playing.

Day 15 - Kuldiga to Pavilosta.

This was a day of two halves. The first bit to the coast at Jurvalne was nice, though the cross wind did manage to blow me off the road a couple of times.

At the coast I met two German kids cycling the same way, so we chilled out and had some lunch. They had started the previous evening in Ventspils, about 45km to the north.

Watching them lurch off let me know just what was in store. A vicious 24mph wind was blowing up the coast, which is apparently pretty common for the region.

The guys, Marvin and Thore, made me glad of my equipment, using rubbish mountain bikes and heavy backpack.

I overtook them pretty quickly and turned off 45km from Leipaja, where they were heading.

Pavilosta is a tiny place with one cafe, a couple of places to stay and a huge beach that fills with locals in the summer. Now it was quiet and the brisk wind brought in an evening storm.

Day 14 - Tukums to Kuldiga

The 90km push through the wind was bad, but felt better than the one to Cesis. Hopefully that means my legs are getting stronger.

Kuldiga is an interesting, medieval town. The problem is that it was allowed to fall into disrepair, and this is an obvious shame. They noticed about five or six years ago and clearly working hard to change it into the tourist draw it should be.

The restoration job on the fantastic cobbled bridge is well worth seeing. From there works have been slower. The high street looks nice, but away from that things truly show their history.

It reminds me of Vyborg a little, and the potential of that city. Luckily Latvia has noticed and is working to fix the historic buildings.

The hotel in the sports centre here was cheap and had a bed. Nothing else good can be said about it.

Day 13 - Riga to Tukums

This was by far the most enjoyable day of cycling I've had so far. Half the city was running the local marathon and half marathon and the rest were out on their bikes.

From the centre there is a bike path along the railway the 25km to the lovely coastal suburb Jurmala. So many people were out enjoying the ride and it felt good to see that cycling culture. It is everywhere in Latvia with people using little delivery boy bikes to do their shopping. Every small town also has a bike path, even if it is only five houses.

From Jurmala the path becomes brickwork, which is a little uncomfortable. But the road is quiet so it is easy enough to cruise along that. From Jurmala it leads north-west along the coast.

Despite nursing the ill effects of Riga's party culture I was making good time through the woods. For once there was no wind too.

The road then turns off to an 18km cycle to Tukums. It is a small town with literally nothing happening. All the cafes were closed after 6 on a Sunday. The only thing open was a small sport centre that fortunately houses a decent hotel.

A walk round the area in search of food led to the deli counter at the supermarket, followed by watching some ice hockey training at the hotel.

Day 12 - rest day

Recovering from a wee hangover the day was spent wandering round the old town.

The area can be covered in a few hours, including the museum of occupation. I'd been to it before, but it is quite interesting. Every time I'd mentioned the Baltics Russians have said how much they did for them such as free them from Hitler and build factories. This museum shows what many locals think.

The park with a little tributary running through it is probably my favourite part of the city. There are monuments and little hills to explore, but most importantly is the relaxed atmosphere of chilling on the grass in summer.

Definitely a town worth visiting rather than reading about.

Day 11 - Sigulda to Riga

This was one of the best rides for a while. The wind was off my back, or off my front more literally. The r1 calculator makes it a 90km trip in from the north, but I figured a route on p roads, which tend to be quieter.

It started off fine, but required a cut through the woods to avoid joining a motorway. It would be a long way back if copilot was wrong.

Luckily it paid off along a dodgy sand and mud trail. It was slow going, but well worth the risk of wasting time rather than the risk of busy roads.

The Baltics have lots of these sandy paths, which always lead to mines for this sand. All they seem to do with it is build more paths to sand mines. It seems a little pointless.

Eventually it led to a tiny village with a massive school, which appeared equally unused.

From there it was relatively easy descending into Riga. The p4 is not too busy, though the speed of some of the trucks can be unnerving. A guy going in the opposite direction had a baby going to his top bar so it can't have been too crazy, even if he was insane.

Riga is one of the best cities in the world. Once you hit the edge of town a cycle path runs towards the old town.

This historic centre is gorgeous and can be explored in a couple of hours.

After checking into the very recommendable Cinnamon Sally hostel I met some Italians for a walk and dinner, then a group of aussies for drinks.

Day 10 - Cesis to Sigulda

A short day of 40km to Sigulda set me up nicely for riding into Riga.

The ride was through the luscious Gauja national park. A strange off-road detour through Ligatne was well worth it for the tree lined ride dropping into a valley with a riverside village.

Sigulda is another great little town, and there are a few decent things to see. The Novada Dome is nice and there are two castles, built by a noble and his rival a bishop. These are up some pretty steep climbs over the Gauja river, and I wish I'd had more time to explore.

In the evening I got chatting to a Swedish guy and a local and they invited me back for bbq and a banya. The guy has a guesthouse, which I highly recommend. The info place had already booked somewhere else for me, though. And they said not to cycle to Riga but get the train...

Day 9 Valga to Cesis

As soon as I got into Latvia - the border is a tiny sign in the middle of the town - the wind picked up. A stiff west breeze would face me head on for the 90km to Cesis.

This was a big day after the two short stints in the rain. The weather had picked up and the sun was out again.

The route along estonian path 3 and than lv2 in Latvia starts getting hilly. There were no really tough hills, just plenty of ups and downs, which makes momentum tough to build.

Smiltene is quite a nice town with a fun cobbled descent into it that, with heavy panniers, requires some serious braking.

There were some long, soul destroying roads that stretched endlessly into the distance. Open meadows look nowhere near as appealing as a forest when it is windy.

When I made it to Rauna was when the finish started edging closer in my mind. The pond in this village about 20km from Cesis is great, and plenty of people were out fishing. There is also a castle and I'm pretty sure I found it. Even more ruined that I expected.

Cesis rivals Tartu for the nicest town so far. It has a small square with a multi-coloured fountain and a sweet park with a black swan. The region also has plenty of stalks.

There is nothing like the rewarding feeling of completing a tough day so I even had a beer with dinner.

Day 8 - Otepää to Valga

Another unpleasant day kicked off with a light drizzle and only a short 50km ride to the border at Valga.

My shoes were still soaked from the previous day's downpour and the gloves were left in the bag as they were too soaked to be of any use.

On days like this the only thing to do is get on with it. The scenery was probably quite nice but I'd barely taken a photo due to the weather. Estonia consists of lots of little villages built on the banks of lakes. They are very quaint but there is little to stop for.

After about 30km there was one with a shop and some little covered picnic tables outside.

Valga is a fairly ordinary looking town. All the villages are much more picturesque but it had a hostel. It also had a Korean restaurant with fantastic spicy soup "for men".

Day 7 - Tartu to Otepää

That was the most ridiculously grim day of cycling ever. It rained solidly for 4 hours till I arrived in Otepää, a town which mostly functions as a ski resort. It's quite nice, but all I wanted to do was get somewhere dry.

A hostel and a hotel didn't even bother opening today, and it looked like I might have to push on through the drizzle. It started off around a 96 - the type that you have to shield your face against - and moved to a 108 - that type which soak you through.

There is meant to be an interesting hill fort here so I might check that out tomorrow. I only stopped for a lion bar and no photos. It was just too cold. It is brightening now, but more rain is forecast tomorrow.

Day 6 - rest day

Sorry that all these blogs are coming at once. This is the first time I've had access to an actual computer, but the notes from each day are going into a book.

I'm well ahead of schedule and really happy with my progress. Even cycling down into the old town without my panniers was good to loosen the legs, which had been getting quite tight. Tartu is a really beautiful place, with a fantastic university at the heart of the historic centre. From there it spreads out into modern shopping centres and the ubiquitous modern town.

Everybody in Estonia cycles so it is brilliant just cruising about the streets without feeling like you are battling cars. I've heard it gets worse again, particularly in Poland.

Last night a Swedish couple and the three Estonians who run the Looming hostel watched Eurovision and I had a couple of beers with them. It is a really nice, relaxed place and it was good to speak to people properly for the first time in a while.

I'll try to add some photos later. Most of them are on Facebook but it has got all security conscious with me constantly changing my IP address.

Day 5 - Mustvee to Tartu

"The only Zen you find on the tops of mountains is the Zen you bring up there" 

This was by far the hardest day. Leaving Mustvee behind is a beautiful stretch overlooking the lake. On a clear day it might just be possible to see the far bank, but it is big enough that waves lap the shore.

I dropped down a gear from my usual cruising speed to ease my aching legs into the journey. Cycling with a heavy weight - and not just my belly - on the back of the bike is an odd sensation. Rhythm becomes a lot more important, and acceleration is a lot slower although average speed is not much slower. I'm averaging just above 20 kilometres an hour moving speed, whereas I'd probably do about 25kph in Moscow on a short ride.

The road along the lake has lots of cute wooden houses and a bunch of places to stay. The area could be really good for tourism, but the season appears to be quite short.

Sadly the route leads away from the lake and into some exposed hills. For miles there is nothing to see except what once must have been farmland, but doesn't seem to be used for much now. The girl running the hostel in Tartu later explained to me that EU regulations decimated much of Estonian farming. The wind picked up again and there really wasn't a lot to see until arriving in Kallaste, where the signposts took me off road and down to the lake again. It was only here that something clicked. Some of the little paths Eurovelo takes in are simply to comply with the principles of having somewhere to stay within a certain distance.

The aftereffects of the 120km ride the day before were really hitting home, and it was difficult to build up speed or rhythm, particular with the wind blowing into my face from the lake. Eventually I arrived at Alatskivi, where a sign said 40km to Tartu on the road or 79 by Eurovelo and Estonian cycle route 3. The road was the same one I'd been following for the last hour or so and there were barely any cars so I abandoned the ridiculous section and went straight along the road.

Despite feeling a little guilty about not doing all the Eurovelo - OK, that was never going to happen as it doesn't exist in Russia and apparently is pretty sketchy in Latvia - the kilometres slowly ticked away.

In Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance Pirsig talks about how the real zen is in the process of climbing the mountain. The man who sees the aim as solely getting to the top will neither get there, but also has the wrong attitude anyway.

Enjoying the moment also has to be done while in the saddle. Times can get tough particularly when the road stretches into the horizon and your back is arched trying to be as streamlined as possible. These are the times when being at one with the picture, the complete absence of people is important.

A tough ride up a steep hill and back on the highway 3 took me into Tartu, where I found the Big Ben Pub, which had a WiFi signal outside. I popped in for a coke and to look for a decent hostel, which I found in Looming.

Day 4 - Johvi to Mustvee

The map said 53 kilometres to Rannapungerja. The sign on the cycle path read 80 kilometres. This was just the start of the nightmare.

The route from last night's rather poor - and even overpriced at 16 euros - hotel was straight into a headwind. Road works leaving the stretch as a muddy track and rain setting in all made for heavy going. After three days of beautiful cycling weather the gods were finally getting their revenge.

I decided to put my foot down, but the signposts headed me off the road and onto another rocky track taking in more climbs. The hills were getting steeper and it was looking like a long day in the saddle.

Eventually the track, which appeared to be used solely by lorries servicing some kind of mine, turned back into paved road. The best thing about traveling alone is how simple things can suddenly make the world seem a different place, and I was determined to get some serious distance in as things improved. For a couple of hours I didn't see anyone else until rejoining the highway "3" somewhere near Jouga. It certainly made nicer cycling off-road, but nobody was getting anywhere fast.

Again the Eurovelo veered off 3, this time in the opposite direction towards Iisaku. Estonia name every town and signposts them, even if they only consist of one family and a doghouse. Each mark on the map tentatively promises lunch, but this only arrived with the shops at Iisaku, over 40km into the ride.

Starving, I stuffed my face with way too much bread and cheese sitting on the bench in a playground. It was great to watch everyone else in the village getting around on their bikes, but it was unclear what anyone actually does. Sadly there had been an amazing place to have lunch a few kilometres back down by a lake (photos arriving shortly).

After a rest as hefty as the food it was off again to Rannapungerja. The sun was out and I felt like I was racing to stay ahead of the incoming weather. Again it was off on a detour to avoid all civilisation and generally not go towards the place I was planning to stay.

The tension in my legs was ramping up as I arrived at my destination, only to be told there wasn't anywhere to stay. As I appeared to still be staying ahead of the clouds it was off again to Mustvee, 20 kilometres on 3 but 45.4 kilometres up through the woods.

With each pedal stroke I was gradually getting weirder and started using strange distraction techniques, including working out how many cars could have number plates in Estonia. They have three letters and three numbers - answers on a postcard. Halfway through their is a beautiful town called Avinurme with a quaint hostel. A river runs under wooden bridges and it was really tempting to stay, but almost certainly would have left me with too much to do the next day. The wind was up again marring any benefit from the first consistent stretch of downhill I'd had all day, but Mustvee is on the huge Peipsi lake so I wanted to check it out.

Despite the nice - and completely empty - Ironi hostel the town is pretty disappointing. I suspect it could be much nicer in summer, but it felt a bit deserted and quiet, particularly compared to the countrified Avinurme. Other stretches of the lake had little triangular holiday villas and beaches along a wooded patch down to Rannapungerja, and there appeared to be plenty of bed and breakfasts to break this ride into two days.

Depending on the weather I'm going to head for Tartu tomorrow and then take a rest day there.

Day 3 - Kingisepp to Johvi

Another 90 kilometres knocked off the target - and with the prospect of some bad weather coming I'm feeling a little less optimistic. The temperature is set to drop from 22 to 13 overnight. Could be good to give my red arms a break from the sun. My left arm is definitely more tanned/burnt than my right due to forever cycling west.

After a late start and a failed bike shop, which didn't have any oil for my chain Kingisepp faded into the distance. A 20 kilometre run down to the border was rather hairy with trucks going past, but quick enough downhill. There turned out to be a road running parallel to it, which I'd recommend to anyone trying this route.

After chilling on the riverbank and popping into the last produkty - which in true Russian style had no useful products - the border guards ran a chilly eye over my passport before letting me through.

Almost immediately after the town square in Narva (Estonia) the hallowed land of the Eurovelo 1 started. Estonian routes 1 and 3 (to start with they are the same thing) leapt straight into a headwind and a deceptively long straight. Persistence and an aching back from leaning into the breeze were rewarded with a patch through a wood, which felt like an Estonian Centre Parcs with a bunch of holiday homes. Things were definitely getting more Western, despite everyone speaking Russian.

Even after 3 days lunch of sandwiches in whatever store I pass is already getting a bit boring, and without heavy cutlery there is little option but ham and cheese. The small things in life make a big difference, especially butter on sandwiches.

After the sporadic Eurovelo signs led onto a quiet highway it meandered off on a detour towards the town of Toila. While lorries definitely make you feel small and fragile, the cost of going off road is an extremely sore bum. The path back towards the coast took in some lovely countryside, but instead of either paving it or leaving it as mud they stick in a few rocks that just make things bumpier. And despite the increased safety the Eurovelo just rejoins the road it sought to avoid anyway.

The route is definitely still a work in progress. The brochure promises no hills steeper than 6 percent, and after a couple of these I decided that was about right. Then, I saw a sign saying the descent would be 12 percent. Sadly there was no time to feel sorry for those coming the other way as it went straight back up the other side with the same gradient. An elderly couple were also panting at the top and laughing. With 90 litre panniers a 12 percent climb is pretty hefty, but luckily it was relatively short.

Johvi was a 10km ride away and is a fairly nondescript town. The hostel was rubbish for 16 euros, but at least I had my own room.

Day 2 Gostilitsy to Kingisepp

Again it was back on the R-35 with Co-pilot trying to direct me onto any track not worth a name. Our relationship improved as I started to ignore it until it accepted my belligerence.

There are signposts every kilometre and counting these is like watching the minutes on the clock at the back of a class room. The more you pay attention the slower it seems to go. After about 100 kilometres over both days on R-35 I turned onto R-42, which was, perhaps unsurprisingly, exactly the same. Russia is very flat with not a lot happening in it.

The change of scenery was actually a bit of a gamble as it meant going on the scarily named M11 to escape trudging a further 23 kilometres in the wrong direction to enter Kingisepp by a back route. I had visions of cycling down the M25 (or MKAD for you Russians), but then realised I'd crossed it earlier without seeing a single vehicle in either direction. It was busier going into Kingisepp, but not ridiculous and even becomes a 40kph road through the city.

Reading this back I feel like Rimmer explaining his game of risk, but when you stare at a road, a wheel and the horizon all day they tend to dominate your thoughts.

After popping into a shop shattered one babushka told me her life story, and then what all her relations do. If I wasn't already tired physically my mental capacities were certainly getting weary. Luckily she did direct me to a hotel. After a trek around all the nice ones in the city to find they were full I found the grottiest place in town which offered me a room for 800 roubles providing I was willing to share it anyone else who had the misfortune to be forced to stay there.

Enough complaining - the hotel was actually surprisingly decent, and dinner in an equally shabby looking place was positively good.

Will update you with days 3-5 tomorrow.

Day 1 - Pete to Gostilitsy

Before even setting off I wanted to be sick to get the lump out of my throat. As a procrastinator the size of a task is a twinkle in the distance that suddenly looms in my face when I turn around. One step at a time - it was only 56 kilometres to Gostilitsy. Well, 57 if we include heading off the wrong way down the street.

Getting out of Saint Petersburg was always going to be the worst part. Leninsky Proskpekt is a nightmare, particularly due to its status as a pseudo motorway. One minute you'll be cycling along in the lane with all the parked cars and wide payments when all of a sudden you're thrust into a three lane highway with slip roads spraying off in all directions.

Luckily this is not an obituary, and the rhythm eventually settles down once it leads onto Petergofskoye Shosse. Once out of the city I started experimenting with Co-pilot, the back-chatting navigation app that spends most of the time telling me to turn around.

After some dubious advice I made it to the park at Petergof. Seeing as I was running a bit late I took a few photos, had the Russian equivalent of bakewell tarts and scampered. From there the love affair with R-35 - and the navigation arguments with Co-pilot that would make a married couple ashamed - started.

Russia, vast as it is, is mostly empty. Therefore any intercity route has an ominous sounding name and status that means any device set to avoiding major roads will immediately decline it. Riding R-35 made me realise that, in fact, there is nowhere for anyone to go except from Moscow to Pete and the Golden Ring. And the condition of the road was so bad that anyone wanting to take it would probably just shuffle off and find something better to do anyway.

Cars will suddenly swing onto the other side of the road to avoid a giant pothole and some make such slow progress it is not impossible to keep pace with them.

After a few nondescript villages R-35 came to Gostilitsy. The town has a school, a cafe and three produktys all next to each other. The woman in the shop laughed when I asked if there was anywhere to stay, but said I could camp down by the lake.

Cycling down the dirt track next to some buildings that made it seem the Germans had only just left I found the real reason cyclists where sunglasses: to keep flies out of their eyes.

As usual a few guys were fishing and drinking down by the water, but I pitched my tent and chilled out. Before driving back absolutely off his face one guy had a conversation with me that went round in circles as he insisted he was a bandit and someone would steal my bike in the middle of the night. Some youths he reckoned, though all the young people seemed to have evacuated the desolate countryside already.

Last day in Moscow

A guy from Rome once said that the Colosseum was a real problem because there was never anywhere to park near it.

And it a way that is similar to Moscow - not just because there is nowhere to leave a car - but that behind the everyday drudgery of unsmiling metro faces there is a beautiful city.

Sometimes it just takes not living there to see that.

Admittedly the last training session was through VDNKh and Sokolniki - two of the nicest areas of the capital - but even cycling through the suburbs of towering apartment blocks towards the ends of the metro is surprisingly pleasant.

The sense of nostalgia is also not the most swiftianly-subtle sign that nerves are beginning to kick in. The train to St. Pete leaves at 1 in the morning (Monday) and after a day in the Venice of the north the first etap to Gostilitsy starts on Tuesday.

A mere 56 kilometres ride should be easy enough since most days are 80-90 kilometres according to the route planner, but what lies in this tiny town is unknown.

The last update from the runet (the rather outdated Russian version of the internet that still lists shops that closed down six years ago) was in about 2007. Supposedly there is somewhere to stay according to the maps - but they didn't survive their treacherous journey with Pochta Rossii.

The next post should spring from there if the town is still connected to the web. Thanks to everyone that has donated, and please keep giving. It is a really important cause. www.justgiving.com/edwardbentley