Transit in Prague.

I have just witnessed the most perculiar phenomena about an hour ago. While alighting from my czech airline flight from Split, Croatia, the Czechs didnt seem to be in a hurry to leave their seats.

Even with the seat belt sign switched off, a good majority of the passengers were still chit chatting away. Only when the the front of the aircraft begin to look deserted only were they keen to slowly ease up and retrieve their baggage from the overhead storage space.

Across all my flights on Ryanair, Easyjet, KLM, I have never encountered such overly patient, in fact shocking behaviour. It is a pleasant surprise. And Im still very much intrigued by it.

Adriatic Sea.

Writing from Split, Croatia.

This friday will be the last friday I’m spending time in a european country. That means in about 4 days time I’ll be back home, with my family. Excitement is an obvious choice of expression.

Croatia has been absolutely stunning. Im not sure how more bluish the adriatic sea can get. Crystal clear waters are neverendingly charming. Right now I’m in Split, about midway along the costal shores of Croatia. It’s my third city in this country after Zadar and Dubrovnik.

Yesterday I took a short ferry trip to the island of Lokrum from Dubrovnik, to get some tan (not that I need anymore since I’m burned from my cycling trip) and get away from the dubrovnik crowd. It is the first time I sunbathed nude, a compulsory exercise on that island. Google F.K.K and you’ll better understand me, some gibberish you might think. Sunbathing nude and on cliffs (no sand) has its perks. For one, you don’t have to worry about getting your clothes wet and sticky. You are also spared from the ardous task of   scraping off sand from your body either. Perfect.

It’s a little weird at the beginning since you know, I’m an asian and not accustomed to such practices but the awkwardness slipped off after a while. Thinking about it, it’s like entering an onsen in Japan, where having clothes on will invite offensive stares. Bringing clothes in is an act deemed to bring germs to the waters. I read it somewhere but I have yet to verify the truth of that statement. I somehow feel that statement is  tad fishy.

Tomorrow, I’ll be boarding the flight back to Madrid via Prague, where upon reaching my home in europe, I’m given just 20 hours to pack my things and scramble to the high speed train to Barcelona. I’ll have to find some time and make a trip to my favourite tapas restaurant and consume chopitos. I somehow feel I have unfinished business with Madrid.

Iron Curtain Trail bike leg – the beginning.

So I got everything ready in Berlin. the nervous few days as I try to vision what the whole trip was to be like. The fact that it is almost 2 weeks long and you’re missing home doesn’t help as much as you would like to.

The bike was acquired through a second hand store (gratiously searched by my cousin in Munich) for 120 euros, a supposingly good bike. I topped it off with a panier at the back (it isn’t the usual bag like shape but it sort of looks like those you would typically spot it on a motorcycle, a hard box), second hand too, and another standard panier at the front. The latter was found in a supermarket for only 6.5 euros. Most of the berliners I see own paniers by Ortileb, an established bag brand that seem to deal heavily with waterproof styles. Anyway, those were considered top grades and I would not even think of getting those. So my red cheap looking panier isn’t waterproof but I had tons of zip locks which I think would serve me fine  (luckily I would only encounter rain on the last 2 days on the road).

Next came the suggestion from Paul Kaye (who’s this? I might have mentioned before but he’s the englishmen who did the entire Iron Curtain trail journey and was featured on BBC. We corresponded quite a bit and he gave me the suggestion that camping was a way of saving some cash) that I could camp. Saving money! The golden key words.  So i hunted for almost 2 days before I settled for a 2 man tent that cost 40 euros. The smaller one man tents are manufactured by well known outdoor specialist and hell it cost over a 100.

With the other miscellaneous things settled, I got on the train to Cheb, Czech republic.

Cheb was to be the biggest Czech city I would come to encounter in my biking days. It looked abit scary, typically eastern european, but it got better when I approached the town square. The first night was spent in the english garden in a tent, illegally I think. I chose a spot no one would take a second look unless fate would have it that the gardener had investigative mentality. I woke up at 6am and was eager to start it all off.

1st day of cyling.

What a nightmare. A fitting description for today. The first day of riding absolutely destroyed me. The climbs came hard and fast like a brick wall meeting the dummy crash car.

I made the mistake of not finding out the gradients of my route and neither did my book point that out. I have seen such details on display while hiking in the Valais Alps. So did the cycling route pamphlet the lady at dinner shared.

So as I devoured (more like nibbling), I got very much demoralised and wasnt sure how much was left in me. The ascents stretched for kilometres and when the gradient got closer to a 10%, which is the worst thing ever, I had to hop off and push my bike. With 2 paniers, a tent and a backpack.

For one, I had been misled by the terrain when cycling in the Netherlands (how could I forget that it is also called the flat lands) and the cycling in Munich, which boasted molehills only. And to make matters worst, my route book has the following description: pass through meadows and fields. Now to me, it conjours an image of a french lady riding on a single speed bike, sporting her sunday best hat. Hardly did the roads today showed any trace of that.

At times I would literally crawl uphill and curse at the motor powered cars as they swept by. How unfair that I have to solely rely on pure human effort. Not also forgetting the hot disastrous temperature. When I left berlin, it was almost 40 deg and Cheb wasn’t that far off. CNN then was covering on the heat wave in the midst of europe. Hydration naturally became a problem. The route covers the countryside and often pases through small towns, one in which no stores exist. I ultimately turned to the garden taps of homes in a bid to keep my lips moist and stay alive. On the road, I often question why I had to choose this painful end to my excahnge and was comparing if this or a marathon or a trialthlon was harder. On recollection, my decision was a tad hazy and I didn’t pursue it again. Besides, a thousand other thoughts would cross my mind in the next week or so.

At night, in my tent, I relooked at my entire plan and rescheduled everything. I will now attempt to reach Bratislava, Slovakia instead of Zagreb, Croatia. And then and then I really wished to give up. Just sell my bike, grab a train ticket to crotia and take the easy way out. But I decided to sleep over it.

to be continued…

The end is near; wrapping it all up

As my foot stepped onto the grounds of Bratislava, I thought the emotions will run high and I’ll crumble to my knees, eyes gazed to heaven and fingers steered to the direction of the heavens. Not really. I was shivering instead, hiding within my windbreaker from the relentlessness wind that made the weather felt lower than the reported 17 degree celcius. What contrast. The day I started my trip with a train ride from Berlin, it was a scorching and suffocating 40 degrees, the heat wave that would certainly made weather headliners across CNN, FOX, BBC.

And so it is DONE. My cycle trip from Germany to Slovakia is now a closed book affair, one that I would cherish in years to come. The estimated 500 odd kilometres I did (though I did cheat by taking a train for 60 km) is filled with nasty surprises:

Thunderstorm and winds at night while asleep in my tent. Misplaced map. Broken pedal. Loose mud guard. Taking hours to find a place to rest at night. Camping illegally in a Czech garden. Giant mosquitoes. Lost in the woods. Muddy trails. But it all turned out fine, Hallelujah!

I’ll now attempt to recap my touring days by replicating what I’ve typed in my phone daily as I rode along the Iron Curtain Trail.

This is it.

My regular blogging (as if it’s really regular) needs to take a 2-odd weeks break.

Been preparing for this for the longest time. Michelin maps, paniers, a bike, pumps, I believe I’m ready to go.

From Cheb, Germany to Zadar, Croatia. Wish me luck and till then!

Historia Victoria de España.

Nice is nice.

Im now on the overnight train from Nice to Hendaye, where i’ll subsequently take a 45 min train over to San Sebastian, Spain. That city boasts the statistic of having higher Michelin Stars per capita than Paris. What a feat.

Because the train is so stuffy, everyone’s leaning against the windows along the aisle. The view spread out infront of us is the Mediterranean Sea. A clear blue hue with regions intertwined with yellow as the sun sets in the distance. Splendid.

As you peek out from the rattling windows, you’ll wonder the many stories behind the different faces you come across. There was a girl ready to board and I noticed how tears had flushed her mascara down her cheeks; parting’s never easy.

Nice has been terrific. It is in the region of Cote d’azur and history has it that Italy gave France Nice because the latter aided the former in a war. Hazy historical details in my mind since I learned it over a meal.

I got a quick overview on the history of Nice over dinner, courtesy of a scottish family sitted right beside me. The setting is Arcchiardo, an authentic local restaurant featured in Nytimes. Actually it was only one of the three restaurants they covered but according to the daughter, who lives and work in Monaco, this is as close as I can get to the best Nice has to offer. All right then!

For dinner, I had Mousse de Foie de Canard Au Porto, duck’s liver pate in port followed by Escalope (Maison) Breaded Veal Escallop with Cheese, Ham and Fresh Basil. The main came with green gnocchi. Interestingly, the scottish lady whispered to me that gnocchi is translated as dog shit. The table then rumbled with laughter as they caught the secretive message. (it is true btw. no joke). She said it was a good choice on my call and I nodded in agreement. Well, nytimes took a photo of the gnocchi so I know I had to try it. I dug a spoonful of this home made dish and commented “this shit taste good”, much to the delight of the family residing in Edinburgh.

Recounting recent memories (2)

To many, zermatt is just a ski resort, a small town situated in the shadow of the Matterhorn, the star attraction of the Valais Alps. These western alps contain the highest concentration of 4000 m peaks.

While researching on the Canton of Valais, it is apparent that zermat was a touch and go experience, something I can never come to accept in my itinerary. “Spent a day taking pictures of the Matterhorn. That’s what Zermattt is for”. Period.

One website however had people praising the hiking experience and how 3 days wasn’t enough. (Well, I knew I wanted to spent a little more time in the alps, a dream come true for me. Now that I found my supporting evidence, I reserved 3 nights, the longest stay in a city on my trip throughout Switzerland). And boy was I right.

I never knew there were 3 big regions in the Valais Alps that you could explore. How appropriate and well tailored to my stay there, was the first thing that came to mind. 4 days 3 night. 1st day will be spent preparing my gear and to roll out the grand hiking plan. The next 3, hike like I’ve never before.

I’m a documentary geek. Im sure there is a bit of that in everyone. Getting fascinated by National Geographic or Discovery is quite a common phenomena. One of my favorite theme is mountaineering and what better way to live the fantasy than now in Zermatt.

Before reaching Zermatt, I was in Lugano and I invited William with me for the tour in Switzerland. I initially thought of doing the swiss experience alone but we’ve been pretty good at traveling together and he was about to return back to boston so why not. But I had to insist on one thing; hiking in the alps all alone. Trekking alone in such terrains (snow, gravel, dirt) on these high grounds are never appreciated but I was quite desperate to protect this journey of mine. William and I would have the same style and approach to urban travels; not too much museums, no packed itinerary, good food and a ball of a time. But hiking wouldn’t do it. Im gung-ho and my legs will be on the trail for a good 12 hours. So I insisted on having my way and we did our respective hiking alone. William wasn’t that comfortable at first. I’ve always been the map reader, the itinerary planner but I assured him that just going out there in the elements will do you good. Just bare it all and we’ll share our experience at the end of 3 days.

Not expecting less, the 3 days of hiking could have easily summed up my exchange travels. Trekking on snow, winds blowing at 13km/h, picturesque landscape, what more could I ask for. The first day was the scariest of all. Taking on the highest hiking trail in europe, there were times when i questioned my decision. it was extremely deserted. I only saw 4 other trekkers in the 5 hours, all geared up with snow shoes (those who steel razors attached) and walking poles. I on the other hand only had hiking shoes. But they were supposedly sufficient, water proof and snow proof but perhaps the snowfall a few days back scaled back a little on its efficiency. In the end I met my nemesis.

Imagine walking on a slope inclined at 45-50 degrees. Next, put together a section in front of you that is covered with a trail of snow that started much higher. Then envision yourself putting a leg on this snowy portion and think of times when you slipped on a puddle of water or how slippery you felt on a skating ring. That was the last straw. The last thing I needed was death. So I turned around.

What was fun photographing the alps was that you never knew how good the pictures will turn out. I always have my shades on and the sunlight was just too blindingly bright. There was almost no trace of clouds on some days to filter out the glare and UV rays. Plus, there’s always a dangerous of photokeratitis. Excessive exposure of sunlight from surfaces, which in my case is snow. So I just roughly figure out from my LCD screen if the picture was what I wanted. Couldn’t really tell if the colours were right.

So do the Alps one day. Spend plenty of time and just take it all in. Up there in the clouds, the food taste better, the air fresher and it somehow gives a new dimension to the songs you listen to on your MP3s.

Recounting recent memories

Sunday Afternoon in Zurich.

River bathing. Glad I found something local to do here in Zurich, the ‘capital’ of switzerland. Best thing is that it’s free. Anyway, you can’t possibly charge for utilising the river can you.

So this outdoor area resembles a swimming pool but with a rectangular structure hoistered above the running water. Along the longer sides you have a sunbathing platform, packed with scores of swiss. (Did I mention I’m always confused by the languages here? Can nv decide to speak french, german or italian. Oh bother). So continuing, this structure has quite a few steps leading into the rushing river water. The weather may be a scorching 26 (Im gna die in singapore), but the water is freezing. I’ll let the pictures do the talking but it’s mighty fun; getting swept from upstream to down, and getting caught by the steel bars right at the end. So worries you’ll be washed to your death is clearly unfounded.

Parisian life.

Getting to France, I was a little irritated. I think the language is overrated. The french slurs so much that you’ll be forgiven for thinking they suffer from muscular spasms in their mouth. Their antics too, being too nationalistic can never be a good thing eh. They got to be aware that the days of reigning Napoleon are clearly over, sent into the dusts of historical archives. But Paris treated me fine. I didnt get any ill treatments for not speaking french. Of coz, always start a convo with a bonjour. Perhaps I may have gotten a dreadful glance or 2, but that’s just me being sensitive for wearing a yellow skin. I was skeptical about Paris. Maybe it will be like Rome, where I wasnt impressed a least bit. Sure there were relics sitting all over the city. But the plentiful of dull narration and plentiful of hard facts just made it all the more bland.

After 3 days, my verdict is that Paris is exciting. For one, the city is just immensely huge. Streets are so wide that merely standing on it makes you feel like a minute figure in a massive architectural model on display. Next, I’ve never encountered so many shopping districts. Each with its own flavour and characteristics. Ask me and i’ll gladly share. Quite exhilarating just browsing the windows on display. Of course, the ever iconic Effiel tower. Not embarrased to admit I’m charmed by that steel structure, despite its ever eternal appearance in shows and publications. As nightfall approaches, the city becomes miles better. Well illuminated attractions, the never ending champs d’elsyee avenue lighted up; fantastic stuff.

Lifting off the dust.

This blog is now dust free. After summoning enough courage to start writing again.

On my train ride from Paris to Nice today, I was figuring why I stopped blogging. I guess it was because so many things happened, one after another and I didn’t really have time to stop and jot down thoughts. Plus, there was always a laziness factor amongst all the excuses.

So I think I’ll start blogging regularly now. I’ve now caught up with myself over the last 2 months and ready to share what I’ve been through. But surely we must start slowly.

To start if off, I’m going to list down what I’ve done since the Madrid open. And then each subsequent posts, I’ll recount the main highlights of the cities I’ve been to. This, I think is the best way to keep my memories intact. So easy to forget things you’ve done when it all comes continuously.

So when my stint in Madrid Open ended, my family came over to Europe for some good travel times. The best highlight since exchange began…

May

• Madrid Open
• Visitation from Family + trip to Barcelona
• Trip to Palma de Mallorca

June

• Morocco
• Sahara desert
• Lugano, Switzerland
• Zermat, Switzerland
• Lauterbrunnen, Switzerland
• Zurich, Switzerland
• Paris, France

I’m now in Nice, France, the capital of the Riveria. I’ll be stopping by Monaco as well as San Sebastian, Spain before resting for a few days in Madrid (: