Home and A Bag Full of Other Reflections

Home at the new brewery: M Special

The travel bubble.  That’s how I have been talking about it.

It seems to me that we all live in these bubbles of stuff and relationships.  The bubble is dynamic.  It changes size when you leave the house and engage in anything that requires “doing,” any activity requiring a verb.  The bubble expands to include those on the journey with you.  So, in essence, Lynette and I took four bags, two daypacks and a couple of helmets in a travel bubble that bounced around the Czech Republic for about five weeks exploring, discovering, and enjoying it all.

One of the cool things that I have mentioned is that because of the nature of travel, this bubble of stuff and relationship actually gets very small and manageable for a while.  If you only have one pair of biking short liners, that is all you have, and you must adjust to it.  Other objects, silly things really, become reliable partners.  On our trip to Vienna, I had one, green plastic bottle that I filled with water and carried on the back of the bike the whole way.  On this trip, I had one white, plastic bag labeled “Cesky Raj” that I used to hold my tennis shoes, which had bags of vitamins stuffed in them before packing.

The world shrinks.  And, if you take a bike tour in the middle of a larger trip, the world shrinks even more.

Familiarity of routine, the packing of the panniers, the loading of the bike, the hours of joyful riding, a bowl of soup for lunch, more riding, the penzion, the shower, the swapping of clothing and airing of riding shorts, and the exploration of the town, become a welcome revolution of the day.  It just doesn’t get any better.  The bubble is small, the world large, and the world takes on a liquid, ethereal quality.

And in that smallness, there is also an elemental puzzle to solve.  The fundamentals of moving from place to place are not just a problem for the wheels of the bike.  Like everything, there are many paths from which to choose. And with the right frame of mind, you get where you are supposed to be.  Lynette and I find this kind of travel so satisfying.

*****

We had to leave the Czech.  Our time was up.  Our ticket came due.  Oleh had helped us before he left by arranging for a cab to pick us up at 5:30 am for a 9 am flight.  He thought it was too early, but we like to be prepared.  We got up around 4:15 and showered and packed and tried to leave the apartment as we had been told.  It was dark outside.  I locked the door and put the keys in the mail slot, and we walked out onto the street at 5:25.  The cab was waiting.  “Jack?” He asked.

Oleh said the ride should cost about 500 kc or about $20.  The cabbie gave us a demonstration of professional driving, Czech style, on the empty streets of Prague, a final spin of excitement and efficiency.  Just as Oleh said, the driver asked for 460 kc, but I gave him almost double.  He was quite happy.  I figured that I had saved money on the final hotel that I was going to book near the airport, and I was pleased that the cab ride went without a hitch.

We got a final Czech cappuccino.  At seven I returned the hotspot to Vodaphone and got my deposit back. We proceeded through security and left on time, arriving in Copenhagen for a five hour wait for our connection. I don’t think I paid much attention to that wait when I booked the flight, but it was fine. Discovered that a beer, costing $1.25 in the Czech, costs $10 in Copenhagen-yikes.  Flight went off without a hitch, and even though it wasn’t premier, we found the Norwegian 787 Dreamliner very comfortable, with three sets of three seats, and plenty of room for economy. Customs was a breeze-Global entry passed us easily, but there was a wait for luggage.  Avis car was a pick up and go ($75 total with gas), and after a bleary eyed drive, we were home by 10 pm.  We made use of the sleeping aids that Dr. Geiler and given us to help reshape our sleep, and all was well.

***********

So what happens when someone dumps a whole load of junk into your tiny, efficient bubble of travel? What happens when you come home, and now you have to fit everything you left behind back into your bubble of stuff and relationship? Growing pains. I am still trying to find my keys. But at least I am in the house. This will pass.

***********

I finally got around to weighing myself after the trip.  Ironically, with all the food porn, with all the meat and cheese and beer and dumplings and brats, I lost five pounds.  I don’t understand.  I figure we actually rode bikes ten to twelve days, about thirty five miles a day.  But the Garmin and Strava indicated a minimal extra amount of caloric expenditure.  We were sure on the trip that the electronics were not taking into account the fifty pounds of gear in the panniers, or the effect of the wind upon our efforts, but still.  It seems like a lot of weight to lose when one isn’t even trying.

Clearly, the best defense against putting on the pounds is to get out and BE the verb.  Indeed, while we were trying to be low-impact at Oleh’s and he was sick, we were out of the apartment early.  He laughed and said that he would get up and we would be gone.  And, I’m still laughing about him not really knowing when we were coming back to Prague from Dresden.  The line that for all he knew, “…you were riding to Mexico” still makes me laugh.

In truth, too, I’m pretty proud of us.  Really, when we left I had a place booked for one night, and a car rented for a couple of weeks.  The rest was faith-based travel and the kindness of our good friends in the Czech.  Ha, the hotels for the road trip to Mikulav and Cesky Krumlov were done at the breakfast table at Alena and Milan’s in Nachod.  Oleh set up our trip to Dresden, but we worked it out on the way back.  We did great.  And, I’m really proud of Lynette.  It’s not easy being at someone else’s house, no matter how hospitable they are.  (And everyone was sooo kind to us.)  Lynette went along with all the vague plans I laid out, and I think ultimately she got just as much joy out of the adventure as I did.

Thanks to all who helped.

Back of the Saint

********

I’m still in shock about tour groups.  I get these flyers all the time from Viking Cruises, or Gate1, advertising this trip or that trip.  And, they look so GOOD!  But, being there and watching the tours flow, well, it looked awful.  To be clear, I am not a tour group Luddite; we enjoy a city tour or a castle tour now and then.  But, the idea of being with the same group of people, following someone with a raised umbrella or a stick with your group number on it, well, it just looked awful.

I noticed that even in our little Food Tour, the last thing that we did, we started to acquire the same annoying tour group habits-blocking sidewalks, getting in the way, ignoring the needs of others.  It just seems inescapable.  Hopefully, we can keep our trips specific and with only the tour chunks that we want at the time we want them.

Indeed, one of the grandest things about this area of the world is the outdoor cafes.  I don’t know how you can be in a tour group of fifty people and really experience anything small scale.  Certainly, the penzion experiences we had would not be possible.

So, I’ve said my piece.  Carpe Diem.  Keep the trips going, independently, as long as possible.

*********

A final word about our two days with Fabian, Lynn, and Yaron.  I got an email from Fabian clarifying that Lynn’s mother is Sigrid, a kind poster on the blog comments.  Fabian indicated that they were even getting stronger, having done a record 70 km in a day-terrific.  He suggested that we do a bike trip from Dresden to Hamburg to Copenhagen, and that sounds just great to us, time willing.  They really seemed like such wholesome great people.

We went to dinner last night at Yellow Belly, our local, neighborhood outdoor place, about the closest thing we have to our Czech experience, and I fooled around trying to capture little Yaron and the bike experience.  I’ll include the drawings, just to make sure there are some graphics in this posting.  All fun.  (This stick figure thing is so funny for me.  I’m astonished whenever I draw something and it comes out.)

Yaron Parties While Parents Pedal

Aaron Cheers his Engine (Fabian)

Yaron Learns to Surf-Start Young

********

So, I’ll end this adventure and wonderful trip with my favorite photo at the John Lennon Wall.  And, I’ll see what I can do to fill in other missing parts of the adventure later on.  In the meantime, make stories.

A Casual Final Day

One of the benefits of staying over here as long as we have is that one gets enough days so that you don't feel pressured to see it all on one long walk. We had a final day. Oleh was off in Croatia, and we were on our meandering own.

We went across the street to Bistro 8 for some eggs Benedict again, and I actually finished my blog entry pretty early, with a couple of cappuccinos on the assist. The eggs were grand, and the place is very comfortable. This time I didn't break any flower vases. We went back to the apartment, and I was able to reorganize very lightly for the day, not needing to take my iPad nor a lot of other stuff. It was warm, bordering on hot, so we were packed for meander.

Bistro 8 eggs

This time, instead of turning left on Oleh's street, we turned right. He had talked about a park when we first arrived, and sure enough, a couple of blocks up we hit the edge of the park. It was a beautiful park, and we followed it and the view of the Prague skyline almost all the way back to the castle. We saw bicycle groups and Segway tour groups. By the way, in one of the maps for young people, a map that inducluded tips for youthful travelers, one of the tips was, “If we ever catch you in a Segway, you are dead to us.” And we agree. Sure, you can get tired walking ten miles or so around the city, the pavement is uneven and it is hard on the feet, but public transportation is always available in a pinch.

We found ourselves back at the castle, entering by a side we had never been on before, and once again, Lynette braved the overcrowded bathrooms by the cathedral. While I was waiting, I got an awesome photo of the cathedral near the Mucha stained glass windows. We wandered about a bit, tried to go to the shops at the pretend village at the east end of the grounds, realized that you had to buy a whole tour, and left, making our way back toward the steps. On the way, we bought a gelato.

Perspective

Gelato

After sitting for a bit and enjoying a beverage in a cool corridor above the steps, we headed back toward the Charles Bridge. I don't know if it was the time of day, or the day of the week, or the fact that we weren't rushing, but the crowds seemed easier today. I still think the tour groups with the guide holding a flag, a banner, or an umbrella overhead, seem unsavory. But I was happy to move a little bit more freely today. We cut right just before the Charles Bridge and circled around to the John Lennon wall. I thought the art looked a whole lot more piecemeal and textual than before, but I was pleased with the selfie that came out of the venture. I also got a nice photo of Lynette and me in front of the waterwheel and the locks of commitment, placed by lovers over time on the fencing.

It's all about story

Locks of love

We checked out the shops under the bridge and then went looking for a couple of garnet shops, but not finding anything that stood out as a must have item of jewelry. We went back to the street where Oleh has his shop, Dhoula I think, and found some places we learned about on the food tour. One place sold awesome meat products, and it had a courtyard with different kinds of food shops. We got a couple of glasses of wine, and Lynette went to a place called Sisters and bought four bread slices (chlebíček) with toppings, salmon, egg, beef, and a shrimp with tarragon that I didn't care for. They are similar to cichettis that we bought in Venice. They hit the spot.

After, we walked back to the Bonvivant cocktail bar, again from the food tour, and we were surprised when Leona and George came in, apparently to set up a tour for that evening. It was fun to see them, although we were a bit embarrassed to be in there. We chatted and thanked them again for all the tips, and we swore that we would be the first ones to do the food tour three times.

The back of the saint

We left the Bonvivant, and ended up on a route back to the apartment that took us down streets we had never been down before. We had walked so much, and I was astonished that we could end up on unfamiliar streets. Indeed, we went up the hill and over to Oleh's, rather than circling around it the whole time. We settled in for a bit, and then went down and to the corner for a fine, last meal in Prague.

Reality began to set in. Mail will be on the porch when we get home.

Enough said.

 

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Enjoying Friends and Prague

We get the impression that folks here are astonished that we know anything at all about the Czech, and it certainly isn't because of our ten word vocabulary. By the way, our latest word attempt is nashledenou, which, if pronounced correctly means see you later. (I think.) Personally, I find it amazing that a country that taught Russian in schools has moved so far with English in twenty-five years. We have absolutely no problem getting by with our English, because there is a sufficient base of the language to make it work for us here.

And, the few things that we know about, Krakonos, the mountain man, the bedtime cartoons, and certainly the food, are really minimal at best. But then we have had good people share their homes and wisdom with us. And we are so appreciative that people are so willing to share stories and culture with us.

We had a late night with Leona and George, and the decadence of the food tour. The walk home was beautiful and cool, with a light rain at times, and lights shimmering off the Vltava. We hit the bed as soon as possible, with a need to leave by 8 am to make a reasonable walk back to the Cafe Savoy to meet with Fabian and Lynn, and we made good on our arising, and good time on the walk. We sat in front of the cafe for about five minutes and then they arrived, and we pushed the cart past all the fancy suits to a table in the back.

The Savoy Breakfast was the predominant favorite, a soft boiled egg, ham, cheese, a slice of sugared Bundt cake, a basket of bread, and a delicious cup of frothed cream with a small pitcher of hot chocolate, sweet, bitter, delicious in the cream. Butter and jam on the bread was fresh and satisfying, and after the previous night I was sure that I was on a rapid path to personal and public demise, a victim of my own food porn photography and weak mind.

Savoy Breakfast

Once again, we enjoyed Fabian and Lynn so much, and we talked about all manner of things. Positive people are always the best, and Fabian's smile, and Lynn's laughter at some of my stories explained the calm joyful nature of little Yaron, a four month old with a great smile, and a happy, active future. Yaron and Lynette seemed to get along quite well; it was all I could do to stop her from contributing to his college fund. But then, I'm pretty sure college is free for German nationals in Germany.

Happy

Bread

Yaron

Bakery under Cafe Savoy

I hope we can stay in touch and do some more bike rides. I told Fabian that I would Ike to bicycle to Denmark and do some more genealogy on Lynette's lineage. Fabian said that they often make trips to Denmark (neighbor to the north for the geographically challenged), so who knows. So far we only have planned a trip to Ireland with our friend Nancy, and trying to settle the remodel of the cabin.

We parted appropriately. Fabian and Lynn were off to do something we are fond of when we are in an exotic place—-laundry. We laughed about that, but as Lynn said, you can only wash things out a number of times, and then a good machine cleansing is appropriate. Hugs and selfie photos followed, and Lynnette and I doddered off, more than we were before, but a little less than we were in the moment.

New friends

******

We walked toward a hill near the palace and headed up the paths by the Hunger Wall, a defensive fortification for the city built primarily to keep the poor working, and to the top where there is an observatory, gardens, and an observation tower that can be climbed. We purchased a couple of waters and tried to work our way over to the palace area where we remembered a neat shop that had unique sewing thimbles. After a couple of starts and stops, and a dead end, we entered a familiar street just below a monastic brewery where we had beer and schnitzel on a previous trip. We strolled down to the palace bathed in sunshine and a warming day, found the staircase to the thimble shop but chose to use restrooms at the palace. This was a bit of mistake because there were tour bubbles everywhere, amoeba-like groups that blocked, enveloped, and overran couples like Lynette and me.

Homage to the victims of Communism

Pano from Lover's Hill

The bathroom, 10kc, was overworked and overcrowded, and not particularly clean. We made do, and hustled out of the castle grounds, bouncing off the tour group bubbles but taking minimal damage. We got to our staircase and down to our shop, but we were disappointed. The shop was closed for a few days, until beyond our current stay. Feeling let down, we decided to look for the crystal shops that Leona had recommended to us in response to a question on the tour. We pulled out the map, and with a little knowledge of the side paths that avoid the “damn tourists,” we made difficult passage through crowded Prague. Hard to believe that this is the “off season.”

We made progress with the crystal hunt, but we had to get back to the apartment before scurrying out again to meet up for a final dinner with Honza, small Alena and wonderful Klarka. We also got a message that Oleh was up, feeling better, and leaving in a few hours to go diving in Croatia. Things change fast.

We made our way back to the apartment, and Oleh came back from the bicycle shop. He looked much better and was in a great attitude about his trip. We sat and talked and shared for quite a bit, I was able to settle up a little bit with him over the bike trip, but he was unreasonably generous about his time and the loan of the bikes. I was able to give him the strap to my Chesty, a GoPro mount, and that made me feel good. He arranged for a cab for us tomorrow morning, and we plotted plans for skiing in California, should we get a cabin and should we get snow. And then we said goodbye.

We met Honza and Alena on the street by the restaurant, and Klarka greeted us in English. My feeling is that she has good models for English, and some talent. I would expect her to progress well with it. And, this is good because English still seems to be a gateway language even if Germany is so very close and economically powerful. It was a good dinner with sharing and conversation and appreciation. Honza and Alena had come to our house through the encouragement of my cousin Tom, and the result was a cascade of adventure and joyful experiences.

We walked to the train station and said sad goodbyes. Honza asked if we would be back next year. I told him I am not giving up any of my leftover Czech crowns! This is an awesome country.

We made our way back to the apartment, now empty with Oleh gone to Croatia. We walked some streets that we have passed many times this trip. I marveled that in all those walks, all those passings, many of the shops I had never really seen before.

There are lot of things to see in our future.

Montage

 

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Prague Return

We woke up and Oleh was still feeling ill, and he decided not to go on his trip but rather rest around the apartment. We made some arrangements for our trip back (it was on my mind in the middle of the night) and finally got out of the apartment and across the street for a couple of cappuccinos and an egg and yoghurt.

It will be interesting to see if my weight has changed much. My pants are looser and the wedding ring Lynette made me has been falling off my finger. Honestly, if one can eat and drink as much as I have on this trip, it would be worth a fourteen day biking trip at least once a year. Another thing for sure, biking doesn't translate into walking. It seemed more difficult to get around walking in town today, but maybe that is because we returned the bikes.

We gave the bikes a good rubdown in the apartment, and then got them down the four floors of stairs one last time. We took and easy ride and walk over to Old Town to Oleh's bike shop, and dropped them off to the cheery guy at the desk. The bike shop is looking great, very busy and a lot of renovations that we admired. I gushed enthusiastically to the guy at the desk, my attitude spilling into conversation with some other customers. We just like the biking so much.

We walked away from the shop, bikeless, and a bit sad, and Lynette poked in crystal shops and I poked around on social media. Eventually we made our way over to the Palladium area, I got some money, and we had a bowl of soup next to a Billa, a grocery store. Lynette has a list of spices and seasonings that she wants to bring back. We did some investigation, and found all the items she wanted, making multiple purchases for cookery at home.

And then, we went back to the apartment, checked on Oleh, and we both crashed hard into hard naps, our first since the first day in Melnik.

The evening had been booked to do a Prague Food Tour, something we did on our last trip, a wild indulgence of excessive amounts of wonderful Czech food at five or six different establishments, with a great, meandering walk through the city, and a charming, informed hostess, lovely Leona. On our first tour, Leona had partnered with Marketta, another lively young woman, and the two of them had left us with great memories of the tour. I contacted Leona while in the bike trip, made arrangements, and we were set. Leona indicated that Marketta had moved to Plzen, and her boyfriend, George, would be with us on the trip.

So, we woke and and showered, and with a cheer to Oleh, we headed off to walk to the National Theater meeting point, a couple of miles away. (Oleh mentioned that there are trams that go there, but we looked at the fit its on our wrists and laughed.) It was a brisk walk over to the meeting point, one where we complained about slow walkers and walk blockers, but we got there in time, and Leona, radiantly holding a roll of bread on a guide stick, greeted us like old friends. It was great fun.

Our first stop was across the bridge, and we wandered over, imitating some of the tour groups that I had complained about so often, but we all have our self concept of exceptionalism. We arrived at our destination, and old 19th building with a cafe inside, and everyone gathered in a semi circle while Lovely Leona began her talk about the building. Suddenly, there was a shout from the building, we all looked up, and standing at the top of the staired entrance was Fabian, our new biking buddy! I looked at Leona, and she looked at me, and she said, “Is that the young man? Coincidence?”

“Yes, and yes. Totally.”

I had sent Leona a photo of the bike trailer and a message about our last day in the final confirmation of the tour. I was stunned, what were the chances of running into someone randomly in Prague, like that? What were the chances of riding for a couple of hours with some gentle people, complaining the whole time about tour groups, and then meet them by chance while you are taking a tour? I was flabbergasted.

The whole group stood patiently in an awkward moment where Fabian came down and we had a brief conversation, with laughter and good cheer at seeing one another again. Fabian went back inside, Leona finished her color commentary, and the group moved in to begin the feeding frenzy. I had a brief conversation with Fabian and Lynn, and we agreed to meet back here for breakfast the next morning.

The evening with Prague food turned out to be magically gluttonous, with everyone begging for mercy in the last hour of decadence and indulgence. We are creme filled breads, chocolate filled macaroons, absinthe, Becharovka, slivovice, pivo, beef tartare on garlic rubbed toast, ham and horseradish sauce on bread, cheese, fired cheese, dill soup, rabbit, duck, gravy, dumplings, spinach, cheeses and sausages and wine. And with the meandering, and the conversation, we found ourselves somewhere in Prague at eleven at night, with a glazed, wonderful walk back to the apartment.

We enjoyed seeing Leona again, and we thought George was animated, fun, a good partner for her. He had a great sense of humor as he described how they camped in Iceland, and the sacrifices he willingly made to honor Leona's fondness for comfortable food warm camping. He was a funny guy.

We parted ways and headed back to the apartment. Oleh's light was on, but we tried not to disturb him. It was easy to get to sleep, and we look forward to breakfast with Lynn and Fabian on the morrow.

 

 

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Babies and Bikes

You gotta love happy babies.

We woke up in wonderful Penzion Hana and did our normal routine of packing gear. It is amazing how bike travel, like back packing, reduces one’s world. The bubble of stuff surrounding you shrinks profoundly, even more than you would have with your regular luggage. And even within that smaller world of possession, I find myself not even touching half of what I carried. The possibility for going super light is clearly available. A few layers of clothing, a few things that can be easily washed out, something for the rain, toiletries, and electronics, and the world gets pretty simple. Pack, ride, shower, and change. It just works.

We went into breakfast and got a cheery hello from Sylvie, the manager, and enjoyed our breakfast with a brief conversation with a German woman, a hearty masseuse whose husband was taking a job in a paper mill in town. And then, much to our surprise, the young couple and baby we had seen on the trail the previous day came in for breakfast. I was delighted to see them and they were surprised to see us. We had an animated discussion about their experience, and the baby was great fun, happy, smiling, and laughing. He was four and a half months old and bouncing along on his first bike tour.

The bike shop

Lynette and I had planned to stop at a bike shop around the block on the way out, to check out a clicking noise by the crank. So, we told the couple, Fabian and Lynn, that we hoped to see them on the trail. We got our bikes and gear, said goodbye to Sylvie, and went around the block to the bike shop. The bike shop guy spoke no English, but he was animated and happy, and dove into the problem with tools. Lynette demonstrated the problem, and the repair guy quickly figured out that the pedal was loose and needed tightening. The click went away, and he was very proud of himself for figuring it out. He gave me a bill for 100 crowns, four bucks, and I gave him 200 kc, which made him beam.

We hit the path, and for the next five or seven miles we glided on a beautiful, asphalt path through forest and fields, something you just wouldn’t see in the states. We wondered about the young couple, and figured that they must be traveling very fast. We hit the final town, turned to the private ferry to cross the river, and just as we started down the bank, Fabian, Lynn, and little Yaaron showed up behind us with a happy wave.

Forest paths

Beautiful paths

Five miles of path

We rode the ferry across the river. This was the unmotorized ferry, the one with a blade and a small boat, and a placid man who slid back and forth on the river all day long. And then, we all road together to Prague, chatting and sharing the whole way. We made a stop for some berries that looked good to Lynn. They were home grown, in baskets sitting on a cardboard table, with some local plums too. They were from a woman’s home garden, and they were bright and delicious. We put on rain gear at the stop for good reason, and rode on.

I watched the baby as we rolled, and he seemed just great, riding in his fancy Thule bike trailer. He had a colored toy that he was fascinated with, and we speculated that he was happy with most of the bouncing and the movement made it seem like something was happening. At times, I could see him looking out the side of the trailer and watching my bike coast.

Watching the wheels roll

Lynn and son

We gave Fabian one of our extra mirrors, thinking it would help him with safety. He wasn’t wearing glasses, and it had just started to rain, so he put it away to adjust at another time. Fabian and Lynn are students, and they were riding south and then west toward Munich. They said that they hoped that getting their son out early on adventures would be a good thing. Lynette and I thought they were terrific. And the baby just beamed when he was taken out of the carriage and held.

We needed a stop, if nothing else for Yaaron, but the place that Lynn had planned to stop was closed, so we had to continue on. We hit the big hill that bypassed a rough road along the river, and we all hugged it. I felt very, very strong. Ten days of riding adds up, eventually. We topped out and started on the downhill and came into a little town with an open restaurant with a courtyard. A fun young man came out and explained the special for the day, which turned out to be stroganoff with rice and a cream of vegetable soup, beautiful.

Stroganoff and pickles

Vegetable soup

The baby entertained us all, got his own meal off a different menu, and did his happy dance on the table. Fabian said that they were trying to do about fifty kilometers a day (30 miles), but the first day they went a whole lot shorter because they were unsure about how the baby would do with the travel. They mentioned that the trailer, a fancy thing with a built in car seat, was very expensive, but when the baby out grew it, they figured they could resell it for a substantial amount of the cost.

It was a fine lunch and chat, and we finished the ride in no time, parting ways just past the zoo. As always, we exchanged our information and hope that they come to visit us in California. We crossed the Vltava, cruised through the park, and negotiated our way back to Oleh’s apartment.

I’lI confess that we were giddy with stories, and poor Oleh had to suffer through them, but I think he appreciated it. He said we did well, even if we hadn’t done a good job of keeping him informed about our whereabouts. For all he knew, we were riding to Mexico. And we would have if we wouldn’t have had to swim.

We were going to take him out to dinner, but he was exhausted from a difficult week, with double the work because Vinuta went to England and Italy. Still, he made a fine Borsht, chopping his way to cooking fame, and we had a nice meal in the apartment while we continued to share about our trip. The final leg of our trip was close to thirty five miles, and I don’t really have a count of our total mileage. I’m pretty sure we biked twelve or thirteen days and averaged thirty-five miles a day, with the longest day being closer to 45 miles.

We spent a long time this evening reacquainting ourselves with the luggage we had left behind, and starting to make sure that we were prepared for re-entry to Santa Barbara. I booked a car for the drive back to Santa Barbara after the flight, and added some luggage for the return trip. I checked my banks and realized that I mistakenly paid a credit card out of the wrong account, bringing that account to zero. Oh well. I figure I do well paying bills and such while we are over here for five or six weeks.

We are looking forward to repeating the food tour with Leona, dinner with Honza and Alena, and a final two days of shopping in Prague.

Happy babies to everyone.

Ride backward

 

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Fickle Wind.

On the way to Litomerice, we fought the wind the whole way. On the way back from Litomerice, we fought the wind the whole way. What's wrong with that scene? We were victims of the windsock, with the wind laughing with our struggle.

We loved the Penzion that we stayed in. It was beautiful, and well organized for bicycles and comfort. Breakfast was good, with homemade jams and local fruits, and a cheery woman who made gigantic coffees. The courtyard was flowered and bright, and we enjoyed a quiet breakfast, admiring the stamina and capacity of two women next to us for eating large amounts of bread.

We moved our gear downstairs and out the hall to the street, where we loaded up and secured everything for the ride. We started our mileage trackers, rolled onto the cobbles and we were off. It was a beautiful morning, and instead of riding across the bridge toward the concentration camp town, Terezin, we stayed on the eastern side of the river, thinking it would be new territory to see. We rode right along the river. In one spot, we passed a young couple with a baby in a bike trailer who had stopped and spent the night in a grassy area near the river. We smiled and rolled on. Unfortunately, the bike path got very rough after a while, so we bailed out onto a road.

The road was fine. Most of the traffic was going the other way, and because it was Sunday, it was light traffic anyway. I continue to wear a bright construction yellow vest, and most drivers gave us a wide berth. As I mentioned before, the traffic speeds here are much slower anyway. We came to a place advertising a ferry, and we pulled over to get back to the other side of the river, but there didn't seem to be any ferrying going on, so we bumped back over to the road. Eventually we passed through a small village, and I checked the map, and we found a path heading back to the river and a bridge.

We reached the bridge, and stopped for a while to watch rafters and kayaks shoot the side passage for water. The water was fast and turbulent there, much like river rapids, and a course for kayaks had been set up. It was quite the show. Finally, bathroom needs called, and we continued on into town, stopping for a beverage and to use the bathroom of the cafe. And when we started again, about 11:30, we hit the awful wind.

And, there is really nothing to do for it but struggle on, and that is what we did. Because the bike path followed the river, we pretty much had open space for the wind to gather speed and make the ride a challenge. But that is the way of things, and on we went.

Eventually we came to a marvelous stand by the river, serving food and drink. We stopped and I asked the guy what was cooking. His English wasn't great, but he said, “Meat.” And it was. Sausages and steaks and burgers. It looked great, but we opted for beverage and sat and enjoyed the view. Soon, the young couple with the baby in the Thule carriage pulled up. When the dad pulled the baby from the carriage, the four month old beamed a bright smile. We admired them and watched them reorganize from the ride and odd some juices. When we came to leave, as Lynette pulled her bike from a free standing, unsecured fence, the young woman's bike fell over, and that is how we came to chat for a bit. We left and said that maybe we would see them later on the path,

We finally made it to Melnik, a bit before check in time, but managed to get into our room, once again a comfortable room with friendly people. We showered and plotted for dinner, after a quick trip to the Billa for some toothpaste and other essentials. (We also found a seasoning for pickles that Lynette had on her list to take back.)

Dinner was a burger, and I posted a photo on social media of Google's translation of one section. Pretty amazing.

I'm having no trouble getting eight hours sleep these days. Hope I am getting stronger overall. Plus, we are nearing the time to go back, and I know I am going to have to modify my eating habits. Less meat.

Love the Czech!

 

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Roads Video

Biking is not just for adults. Paths and babies. Password apple .

Roads from Jack Meyer on Vimeo.

 

 

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Tired Legs

The leg of the trip from Dećin to Litomerice was the one where we caught some rain on the way to Dresden. Although rain was not forecast, the skies were grey, and the temperature cold, good for riding but a bit clammy in a rain layer. Still, we looked forward to seeing this stretch without rain in our eyes.

We retrieved the bikes, and again I should say how comfortable the Ceska Koruna is for a fifty dollar hotel with bike storage and breakfast, and we loaded up to leave town. Traffic was mild, and then we recalled that it was Saturday, which explained the soccer game at a school we passed, and the groups of sailboats and oarsmen on the river. The trip was expected to be about 32 miles, and one always plays mind games with the hills of the past, stuff that you imagine will be a challenge. But, hills pass, they are never as bad as one imagines them, and the constant, changing views are always a delight.

Marker for flood levels

Tram to castle

High water above the locks

Climbing structure: a rock

As always, in Europe, the play structures are wonderfully free of safety. We watched a group of children mess about on this rock for the longest time, working through hand holds, placing feet, climbing over each other. Pretty amazing.

We continued on, passing Ustí nad Labem, where there seemed to be a major foot race about to happen. We passed way stations and police at the turns, but we saw no runners. We improved on our performance in a couple of places, just by biking more intelligently. For example at the locks, on the way to Dresden we followed the signs and lugged our gear up and down three or four flights of stairs. It was awful. This time, we jumped on the road, took faith in my neon worker vest, and rode quickly by the locks. It was much more efficient. There was one other place where we used the road to bypass some up and downs. I don’t feel guilty about it, because the distance was the same anyway.

The paths themselves vary. There is no question that Czech bike paths are far more numerous than paths in the states, but then they are often used by farmers to get to the fields. Still, the variety of paths we took this day ranged from head knocking cobble, to milder cobble with smaller rocks, to asphalt paths, to interlocking brick paths to dirt and gravel paths, to old worn bumpy asphalt, to dirt and rock chunk, to just plain dirt. But I would estimate that at least 90% of what we rode on was nice asphalt or brick.

Path and rafters

Sweeping bike path

But the truth of the matter is that we were tired, me in particular. My legs were fatigued, and I just didn’t have it in me to race the trains, the wind, nor the fog. Even so, we made good time and enjoyed the roll. About three fourths of the way, we started looking for our bowl of soup, a lunch stop favorite. We came around a bend in a rare town on this leg, and spied a few women at a corner bar. They all had bikes. We stopped, used the bathroom and heard a lot of noise from inside. It was kind of a puzzle to get inside, but I eventually opened the right door, discovering a merry band of locals inside, who all stopped and stared at me. I turned in the quiet to the lady behind the bar and managed to negotiate a beer for me and a Becharovka for Lynette. There was no evidence of soup.

Nine miles to go

We sat for a while, resting and musing, and watching cyclists scream around the corner on bike path number 2. When we started off again, it felt like the temperature dropped ten degrees. WE made two different stops to add layers, and then, maybe a half hour later, it warmed up again and we did the reverse, peeling layers and restuffing bags, almost as we came into our destination town.

Here are the maps from Strava, just so you can get an idea of what information I am harvesting from the app. Notice that no ride is flat. This ride certainly could be considered flat, following a river and all, but as Lynette always says, no ride is flat.

Strava map

Summary

Nothing is flat!

 

We were too early for check in, so we went to the restaurant with the wild game for some soup. At about three thirty, we headed back up to the Penzion that I found off the Web. It turned out to be wonderful, with bike storage inside a beautiful courtyard, a stellar room and shower. Of course we paid more, sixty dollars, but it was worth it.

Penzion

Penzion feet

 

I crashed and napped until about five thirty, and then we went to the restaurant recommended by our hostess, and had a great meal. Nothing beats the outdoor cafes.

Dinner outdoors

Dill soup with egg

Salmon and shrimp

Pork knuckle

 

Nothing beats the outdoor cafes, except maybe sleep.

 

 

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Clean Clothes and a Turn of Direction

We woke up in Dresden and got a new idea. We were enjoying the riding so much, we wondered if we could get in touch with Oleh and just keep the bikes and ride back to Prague. We would have to shorten the number of days, but we didn't need to repeat Terezin, the concentration camp, nor the hikes. Oleh had arranged to have the bikes picked up by a service, and we were supposed to ride the train back to Prague. I texted him the idea and we walked to find a laundry.

We had spotted a couple across the river, about two miles away, so we bagged our laundry and walked through town carrying green trash bags of soiled clothing until we found a place featuring Electrolux washers. The whole setup was incomprehensible to us, but fortunately the proprietor showed up and pointed at enough things that we got the idea. The machines were controlled from a central pay and start station. Add money, punch the number of the machine, and you are good to go. We had an issue with one shirt of Lynette's, a favorite biking wind shirt that turned black. But only that shirt. We hung around for another 45 minutes and tried washing it again, but the black stuck. It's a mystery.

Meanwhile, Oleh got back to me. He thought it was a terrific idea, and so we were set. I booked three hotels for four days of riding. Two of the hotels were the same. We skipped Hotel Roosevelt and with the Shakespearean receptionist, and opted for a cute looking pension. And, with clean laundry in hand, we headed back to the hotel Ibis, a pleasant walk with lots of window shopping.

We dropped off the laundry, and then continued with shopping. We found a fabulous, four story mega sporting goods store called Globetrotter. It had everything, and a lot of stuff we were unfamiliar with. I had no idea Ortlieb, maker of our pannier bags, made so much stuff. The facility had a climbing wall under the stairway that went up four floors and had padding for falls. I bought some waterproof gloves and a few other items and we went on our way.

Dinner was a great meal in a Hofbräuhaus that had just opened. We looked forward to getting on the bikes in the morning. Rain was forecast in the afternoon, and we wanted to get an early start, and get back to the small towns we enjoyed so much,

*******************

We got up in the morning, knowing that we would have to do about 45 miles. The other days were all about thirty-five, and that is just a great distance. We were able to do hikes, get in to a town early enough to explore, and shower at leisure. It was wet from the rain showers the previous day, and cold. I got to test out my new gloves, and they kept my hands warm. Lynette had worried about her knee swelling up, but she put on a clinic for steady riding, advising me to pedal hard to hit the hills, and to use the gears so the chain stays more directly aligned, something Oleh had advised her.

And, so we rode strongly. We raced trains. We chugged hills. We rolled with wolves. We cut the wind and made the paths, our paths. We became editors of the journey we had taken on the way to Dresden, revising our narrative with a southern view, a muscular perspective of spent energy and gain. We puzzled parts of the trail we could not remember, and put faith in the turn of the wheel and the ever present Elbe. It was a good ride, a fine ride, with two ferry crossings, and a significant stop where we lusted for a bratwurst, but were too full from breakfast to consummate the relationship.

We reached Hrensko, the town with the street lined with shops of goods made in China, and pulled in for a bowl of soup. Soup is good here. Really good. We sat next to the stream, and watched a ton of tourists order big helpings of zmrzlina, ice cream in Czech. Other than a few drops, we had no issues with rain, and the ferry crossing put us on a nice, 8 or nine mile bike path back to Déčín.

We checked back into Ceska Koruna, a hotel we had stayed at before, and for $50 got a solid room with a great bed and hot shower. We took advantage of the latter and then wandered out to pick a restaurant out at random. I'm not sure that TripAdvisor nor Yelp really know anything. We have had good, reasonable food everywhere.

We picked a place, and I don't even know the name. The waitress was delightful, spoke no English, but was helpful. She made some recommendations, and they were great. A couple at the table next to us were funny, cheery and animated, and making animal noises to indicate food choices. We laughed. And that is how we met Richard and Marta, Polish tourists. We had great fun chatting with them, as always inviting them to Santa Barbara (Oleh is the only one who has ever taken us up on it), and exchanging information. They seemed like a wonderful couple!

We returned to the room, watched ten minutes of the BBC, and slept well.

 

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Herman and Linda

We listened to the stream all night and slept pretty well in our sky perch at the Labe Hotel. In the morning, we organized for our final push into Dresden, about fifty five kilometers or so. We had breakfast, got our things down the four or five flights of stairs, and found someone in reception to open the bicycle gate. The Asian souvenir shops were just starting to stir, and a little sun had found its way to the entrance to the canyon. We mounted our bikes, and I thought about how much it looked like a border town, like Tijuana or Nogales, with ceramics and baskets and bric-à-brac blobs of stuff spreading into the street.

We did not cross the river, but just followed the road toward a spa town, Bad Schandau, and soon we picked up a path again. There was a lot of activity around the thermals, but we cruised on through town and noticing that the route seemed a little less well marked. Our path continued, turned a street, and then went up a steep hill for a bit. I stopped to try to check the route, but my German SIM wasn't working properly, and I was getting odd messages in German that I couldn't understand. So, I went on, with Lynette a bit behind, and that is how I met Herman.

Herman had ridden by me earlier at a fast pace up the hill, and his wife (who turned out to be a very strong rider but walked steep hills because of her knees) was walking her bike up the hill. I passed her and stopped at the top of the hill where Herman had paused and gotten off his bike. I said hello, and his reply led me to think he understood English, so I asked him if he spoke German.

“Oh, no. Not a word,” he replied with a twinkle in his eye.

I laughed. We had a conversation and a lot of laughs. He reminded me of Victor Borge, the Danish comedian, both in his manner and wit. His wife, Linda, showed me her map, and I mentioned that there was a ferry to take ahead, and she agreed. We all mounted bikes again, and we rejoined at the ferry, continuing our conversation, and then riding together for the rest of the day.

Herman, who is just a few weeks younger than I am, is some kind of editor and publisher, and Linda is a psychiatrist for troubled youth. Now, I won't go into detailed facts about Herman because he was quite to tease with outlandish statements, but he did seem to have a strong interest in German politics and history, and underneath the sarcastic comments about the Führer's nature trails and neo-Nazi Pensions, I could tell that he was versed the history of the region, the devastation of Dresden in WW II, the impact of Soviet occupation and governance, and the current refugee crisis. He also said that he was starting a Trump fan club in Saxony, figuring that Trump would just fix all the problems and speculation on whether Poles are lazier than Mexicans (total sarcasm here!).

The conversation during the riding was distracting, and at some point we reached another ferry spot. We pulled off for a coffee, next to a minature train attraction. Linda explained that there was a castle site on top of some rocks across the river and that it would be interesting to see. They were going to do it. I expressed interest, but concern about our bikes and gear. Herman went up to the train attraction, and arranged to pay for bike parking behind the facility. And so, we parked and locked our gear, took some stuff, and walked to the ferry.

The ferry was much like the first one we had taken, but larger. A cable went up river, and the captain simply untied from the dock, pointed the rudder in the opposite direction, and the current of the river swing the ferry like a pendulum to the other side, banging into the dock and then settling in. We walked through town, a pretty area with souvenir shops and found the trail to the castle area. Part way up the trail, which in civilized Europe had plenty of steps, there was a man with a hat out for money singing German lieder. Herman put a coin in the hat, and then Linda said something to him which made him laugh. “Linda wanted to know if I gave him money to stop,” he chuckled.

The settlement area at the top was interesting. There was no castle, but instead a picturesque stone bridge built in the 19th century, and exhibits of the the nature and extent of the fifteenth century fortress. We walked the bridges and paths, and eventually the stone bridge, admiring both the view and the historical significance. At the very top, once again, we found a very upscale hotel and a place to eat lunch. Herman was happy to direct our choices for lunch, and Lynette and I shared a Ukranian soup and a brat with curry powder, all new and different. But the day was passing and we headed back to get the bikes.

The route back was down the steps, through the town, and across the ferry. We loaded up the bikes and continued on to Dresden. One of the towns near Dresden was the scene of a recent clash between neo-Nazis and police, but we saw nothing unusual. Herman mentioned a Biergarten, and we finally stopped at a little place that he said had great onion cake (quiche). It was fabulous. I also tried a sampler of German beer, all good. Herman and Linda treated us to the refreshment. We exchanged information, showed a few photos, and mounted up for the ride into town.

Herman and Linda were staying north of the river, and although they offered to meet for dinner, we declined because of time and fatigue. Unfinished business. We wandered off. To find our hotel, through an old square, and into a very modern shopping area. The hotel is fine, modern, near the train station, and we found a market to by some snacks and a bottle of wine, with the intention of calling it a day.

And that is just what we did.

 

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