Day 3 In Lund

I’m in heaven. I better write it down before it wears off. I’m in Lund with its beautiful fresh air and cool evening sun. I think it is the relief after riding all day and finding such a cool hotel here – no fusty check- in desk where you have to ring a bell and wait for someone, just a touch screen and credit card machine. It produces a plastic card that lets you past the lobby and into your room. Everything here is new. No thick carpet and the smell of air freshener (as in yesterday’s hotel) – we get stone steps and a bare wooden floor – newly installed minimalist bathroom, free no-fuss wifi and more electric sockets that you would ever need. And for breakfast they are cool with letting you bring your own and just have their coffee – also from a machine (Machines can make better coffee than humans often do – believe me.)

You ask ‘is there a supermarket near here?’ Of course is the answer and it is open late. I head down there and see that Lund is a young person’s town – young persons on their bicycles, young persons on their way to a toga party. This is refreshing as someone who has spent too much time in small German country towns which are fusty and conservative – without exception.

My bike is parked outside on the street. It should be safe. It is heavily disguised as a pile of blankets with a padlock.

Let’s start the day’s events. Coffee and croissants in Germany – neither exceptional followed by muesli with UHT milk of course. The party of older folk filled the dining room. Packing up was easy. And I seem to have paid my bill some time in the past. My stomach was upset again, a strange regular occurrence on my travels – hence a couple of unscheduled stops on the way to the ferry. But the road up to the tip of Germany, an island called Fehmarn got quieter and ended up pleasant – and the sun shone throughout the day. I arrived just in time for the 11.45 crossing and my ticket seemed to get me on even though I’d booked a later trip. On the crossing I stayed with Belinda on the car deck for most of the trip. There were some neat but not robustly effective (I thought) wall-hanging straps to tie down bikes (mine was the only bike) but I did not trust it after my disaster on a Norwegian ferry.

It was lovely to get into Denmark. Again the roads seemed almost empty and the temperature was a pleasant 18 degrees. I bought some petrol and food and stopped at one of their functional picnic with petrol and toilet spots half way. The traffic got heavier as I approached Copenhagen. The Oresund crossing was fun as ever and it was so easy to pay having found out in advance which lane to use. It was obvious anyway. Then it was only about 20 miles from Malmo to lovely Lund. I have passed through Lund once before, parking on cobbles in the old town centre – which is of course an old university city – but never stayed.

Supplies at the supermarket were not wide-ranging and of course entirely lacking anything remotely alcoholic. Luckily I am prepared. And Sweden is the home of Oatley! There are so many more varieties than we are allowed in boring old UK. There is a kitchen here in my room with a microwave so I have a pizza to try to cook. I can’t read the instructions on the box. It either says microwavable or microwave is not recommended. I have the feeling that it will come out piping hot but still look completely raw.

I just tried to fold up my map of North West Germany and gave up and instead lay on the bed and fell into a deep sleep.

Total distance I rode 247 miles. It felt a lot less than yesterday.

Total riding time 4 hours 27 minutes plus 45 minutes on the ferry.

(well proper day 1)
At Hollenstedter Hof Hotel

Last night, after my eating dinner courtesy of Morrisons (I just remembered that I had indigestion while eating it) I found it was already 11.45 so had a shower, shook out the duvet and went to bed. I didn’t even venture outside my cabin and declined the opportunity to smoke a cigarette out on deck. I had the bridge cam on the tv screen and trucks were still rolling on when I turned off and went to sleep. Usually I sleep lightly on the boat but this time I slept soundly, not even registering when we left Harwich, hardly waking till an announcement in the corridor at 6.30 woke me followed by the cabin announcement that we were due to dock in one hour. I had woken up with a splitting head – perhaps the half bottle of wine was not wise – so it took a while to climb out of bed and get dressed. With a little orange juice left from last night I didn’t even chance an overpriced breakfast on the ship. I am (was) avoiding coffee. But after packing up and going to the lounge on deck 9 obediently as instructed the smell of brewing coffee very nearly tempted me. Getting through passport control (a policeman gathered up the bikers and checked our passports with no one removing helmets) was easy as usual, then it was off in an easterly direction out on the usual route from Hook of Holland that I vaguely remember but never actually get to know. I took a couple of wrong turns on the journey – not bad. I started off in sunshine around 16 or so degrees. There was such heavy traffic, it was hard to do much more than 65 though for some reason it felt much faster. It is always a landmark to get into Germany. Suddenly the traffic changes. There is less of it but what there is goes much faster. I stopped a few times (see below). Once at a sign of the knife and fork but there was only a grim looking restaurant set back from an empty car park so I eat some more pork pie and bakewell tart by the bike and headed off again. The next stop, maybe a couple of hours later was out of desperation. The temperature had dropped to 14 degrees and it was wet. So I came to a shivering stop at another parking spot and put on more clothes and a scarf, drank some water and headed off again. I had also missed a major turning and wanted to see where I was. The third stop was for petrol, off the motorway a mile or so and involving another minor wrong turning but once I got back on the motorway better dressed and fuelled up the rain stopped and the temperature rose the couple of degrees necessary to make things comfortable. My morale rose. So the final stop was to at last buy something to eat. And have a lovely coffee that I was off yesterday but am on again today, sitting on the curb next to my bike in the now warm sunshine.
Gradually the 300 miles showing to my destination on the GPS changed to 199 then 75, then 20 or so until the turn off. The hotel is literally a mile from the motorway exit. I’m surprised you can’t hear the traffic from here. My entry and attempt to park neatly were not impressive but I made it to the familiar hotel that I stayed in about 5 years ago also on my way up to Denmark. I’ll be dining here tonight then I imagine will sleep well again. Interestingly I do feel fine. I am put in mind of my arrival at another German hotel probably a similar distance if not less from HvH on the first trip I took on a motorcycle. I remember I was exhausted and fell asleep lying on the bed once I got into the room. That was ten years ago and I think I do feel less wide-eyed about these trips – I mean in a good way. Also I am less daunted by the speedy German motorways. I wonder if that’s because I have a better bike that I can confidently drop into the fast lane when I need to. Or perhaps it just has better mirrors.

I have an arrival routine already – first plug everything in that needs charging for tomorrow (so much easier to do this in hotels than when camping), then shower and write. The bike is parked in the courtyard here not far from my front door.

66 miles 1 hour 24 minutes
96 miles 1 hour 30 minutes
3.5 miles 10 minutes
77 miles 1 hour 23 minutes
66 miles 1 hour 13 minutes

Total 308 miles 5 hours 40 minutes riding

Day 1 31st August 2017
London to Cambridge to Harwich
Finally I looked up at the evening sky above the ferry terminal and breathed a sigh of relief. After some weeks of feeling too anxious about this trip, with its ordinary anxiety piling on top of the problems with our building work, I realised that I had relaxed. I had stuff all over the place that I am used to being able to organise and gather and take on these trips but at this particular moment my touring stuff is off in store – somewhere – and the rest of it is spread between the garage in Cambridge, somewhere in our flat under a bed and deep within the tarpaulin construction in the back garden of our renovating house in Southwark along with some of our furniture.
There is something charmed about my rides to Harwich. It has never rained on me and today I was blessed with sunshine. I managed to pack everything including some last-minute decisions, a number of improvisations, wire up my helmet camera to the microphone I soldered onto it yesterday (second time worked) and head off with composure. It seemed strange to ride down East Road knowing that my end point was going to be Helsinki.
In the queue as ever are unexpectedly interesting people on motorcycles. I remember on my first trip on this ferry with a bike (2008) I met a music teacher, also riding a bike, who encouraged me by saying I would return a veteran of European travel. This evening a man with narrow mirror shades and grey pony tail, sitting on a Harley Davidson turned out to be an expert, from Norway, on European medieval cathedrals. He had just come back from a sponsored tour (Visit England) of parts of England and was going to spend two more weeks visiting medieval cathedrals in Germany. We seemed to be waiting for ever this evening getting colder under some inky clouds that threatened thunder but kindly left us alone.
(pictures later)
I’ve eaten another Morrisons dinner in my cabin with a pleasant Beaujolais Villages – why did I spend so much time in public on my first journeys on this route, even visiting the smoking room full of some dodgy characters?
On channel 5 here on the TV in my cabin they are showing the bridge cam. I can see they are still loading trucks. In fact there was an announcement that I could hardly hear saying that our departure had been delayed due to something about the cargo.
So, at last I feel organised. Tomorrow is a big day – 300 miles on motorways in an Easterly direction to just this side of Hamburg. My Norwegian friend suggested I take a different route, heading north in Holland and avoiding as much German motorway as I can because of road works. I forgot to check about road works on the German A1. I think I will probably risk taking my planned route. The route planner says it will take 5 hours.

A showery day demands careful planning when it comes to riding and not riding. My Met Office app told me that it would rain in Cambridge from 11 am until 3pm. I arrived  – just before 11 – and got ready to ride out just when the heavens opened so lingered in East Road garages as an arriving lady told me she was parking there to avoid a couple who spend ‘half the year in Spain – and we all wish they spent all year there…’. By the time the strange anecdote had ended the sun had come out and I grasped the opportunity. I tend to head out not really having a destination in mind until I get going. After a familiar exit via the A10 toward Ely I decided to head over to BMW dealer Balderston’s in Peterborough where there would be a welcoming cup of tea waiting and some eye-candy shiny bikes to look at. For once my GPS took me on a meandering and indirect route via Ramsey and places without names, the last 15 minutes in steadily heavier rain. I should have remembered that my BMW Nav does not seem to like Balderstons and takes you on a loop that gets close then veers off, only to return you again in a strange circle – not very amusing when it is raining.

Once there and after a dripping entry I was offered the customary cup of tea which I eagerly accepted and tip-toed around the ground floor showroom. The 1200gs Adventures are lovely to behold but like beasts when you stand behind them or sit on them. The fuel tank is so huge. Highly desirable but a riding experience I gave up for my present practical, nimble but secretly a little boring machine – the ‘ordinary’ 1200gs.

I must have spent an hour in the showroom waiting for the rain to stop and trying to resist the temptation to spend any money – even on the low seat for my bike which I tried out there and decided it was not required. I resisted the now £130 BMW rainsuit and the hydrapack even though my jacket has a clever pocket on the back especially designed for it. I would prefer just to stop, have a break and a drink.

First the sun came out and then the rain thankfully stopped and I along with a number of other bikers left the store.

My ride back was via Coates where I collected my first ever bike and rode home nearly 10 years ago, and March – all in the beautiful sun.

Here are the traces of all the trips I have taken since I relocated the bike back to Cambridge to make way for heavy renovations in Southwark. I am highly tempted to keep the bike here over the summers and just keep it in London in winter.

Here’s more detail of the trip:
[sgpx gpx=”/wp-content/uploads/gpx/to_balderstons_from_cambridge.gpx”]

Heavy showers led to indecisions and reversals in the pursuit of fruit in East Anglia.

I did come up with the plan of buying 3Kgs of blackcurrants and redcurrants to take home and make (more) jam. I had the coordinates of two pick your own farms ready but the weather eroded my decision. I thought it might be character-building to ride in the rain a bit. I fished out my old Heine Gerricke fabric jacket as a more practical alternative to my nice but relatively pocketless and tight fitting Hideout Leathers jacket for my next tour across northern Europe. It seemed to keep out the wind and rain – though ended up a little soggy hanging up in the garage. I plan to re-proof it and maybe upgrade the armour before my trip starting at the end of August.

[sgpx gpx=”/wp-content/uploads/gpx/fruit-farm-failures.gpx”]