After my trip from Amsterdam to Yerevan was over, I had done little cycling in Armenia. However, I had a plan – when the autumn sets in, continue southwards until the border with Iran.
I planned to do this in the middle of autumn when the weather is milder for cycling and the mountains become painted with the autumn leaf colors. I chose the first week of October and I think it was right on point with the weather; for the colors I could have waited for another week perhaps. But you always have to make a guess with the weather – the best educated guess it is.
During my trip I visited Czech Republic twice and both times I had a really nice time meeting interesting people. If you are good with maps then you are probably thinking why I say ‘twice’ if crossing from west to east should have taken me through Czechia just once in a straight line.
The secret is that I had been lucky to know people that gave me excellent advice and when you have such precious info, it’s hard not to follow it even when it doesn’t make any geographical sense.
So this story is about my second visit to Czechia, to an area called Mikulov. Mikulov is a town and a whole area specialized in wine-making considered to be the ‘center of Czech wine-making traditions.’ It’s a nice little town – though biggest in the area – with a lot of history and architecture. The wine-making area of Mikulov has a hilly green landscape mapped as the Palava Protected Area. If you decide to take a rest day here, you can make an excellent easy ride through vineyards, forests and small villages.
Beginning of spring Vineyards everywhereView on MikulovLandscapes around Mikulov
And that was exactly my plan – stay for a day, ride around and taste the wine of course. And it would be all good, if it wasn’t so hot those days in Czechia. During the day, when riding around Palava, I found it impossible to drink especially when I still had to many kilometers ahead. But I thought ‘that’s fine, I will have some in the evening instead.’ So I came back to my camp, had some rest and went out to the village to find a wine bar.
To my big surprise this area full of tourists – mostly locals – on Saturday when I arrived, was absolutely empty on Sunday. Shops were closed, bars and restaurants were closed – there was basically nowhere to have a drink or a bite. I was leaving next morning and, seriously disappointed in my organizational skills, I went to sleep. However the best was about to come.
Next day I was cycling out of Mikulov, climbing a semi-steep hill, when an old lady came out of her house and staring at me with her wide opened eyes she exclaimed some very surprise-expressing words in Czech. With my Russian knowledge I figured she said something like ‘I haven’t seen anything like this before’ meaning my loaded bike and perhaps myself.
I stopped trying to reward her curiosity with my sign-language explanations of who I am and where I am going. A little later she asked if I’d like to taste some of her wine, and of course I couldn’t say no…and why would I ?? The lady run into her house and came out with two short glasses and a laboratory flask looking thing that had wine in it. She was holding it upside down on her right shoulder and with her left hand she was keeping the wine from running out (I really regret not taking a picture but that could break the whole moment).
Like a pro – well, she was a pro – she poured us two glasses of her homemade Mikulov wine that was shining in the afternoon sun. I tohught to myself ‘this must be the best Mikulov wine I could ever find’. Not only was it actually good, but it carried all the joys of travelling and meeting the kindest and most hospitable people on my way.
After the first glass was empty, she said something else which I thought meant ‘would you like to taste another one?’ In fact, she was making sure that I liked it because next thing I knew was that she run back into the house and came back with a liter of her amazing wine and gave it to me. And this is how I almost missed but found the best ever Mikulov wine.
If, like me, you have had little experience in riding a fully loaded bike, your day 1 is likely to bring you some interesting moments.
As a well-prepared person, two days before my actual departure I decided to make a test ride. I attached the four panniers to my bike, filled them with all kinds of stuff I had at home in order to make the bags heavy and rolled out of my apartment in Amsterdam to cycle to Zaanstad and back. This would in total make 40 km, roughly the half of what I counted to ride daily on my journey.
The bike felt heavier of course but not drastically. I rode to the west of Amsterdam to take a ferry to Zaanstad, looking like a tourist and taking a picture with this classic Dutch statue. Just like a real day on the tour 🙂
This couple weighs around 6700 kg and stands high at about three-floor building
Symbolically, the statue was placed here to promote visiting the area by bike
I visited a friend in Zaanstad for a few hours and rolled back to Amsterdam. When the trip was finished, my average speed was at 19 km per hour and I didn’t feel more tired than usual. The test was a success!
But not quite my Day 1. So what did I do wrong after all the preparations?
Firstly, I underestimated the real weight of my luggage. What I put in the bags was likely half of the actual weight I took with me. Add to it the tent and the sleeping bag tied to the back of the bike and you will get a very heavy bike. Weighing the luggage only, I counted ~30 kg, and this was a BIG difference. The bike became a tank that was not just difficult to push but also difficult to handle at first.
The thing is when you add weights on the front wheel, it will take you a bit of time to master a new balancing algorithm of your bike. In fact, once you master this new way, it will be very unusual to ride the bike without the weights. Obviously, with time you will be switching these modes in your head (and hands) in a matter of seconds.
Too heavy to lift
We couldn’t even take a picture with three of us because the bike wouldn’t stand by itself 😀
And when my friends set me off from my apartment that day I was shaking and wobbling like someone who just learned how to cycle.
Mistake #2. I made an appointment with a friend to have a lunch in Utrecht which is ‘only’ 45 km away. “Three hours should be more than enough time to cover this distance even on day 1,” I thought. I was wrong, I was very wrong. 15 minutes after I said goodbye to my colleagues in Amsterdam-Zuidoost, a heavy storm fell from the sky, naturally with a strong headwind all the way to Utrecht.
I stopped to put my rain gear but first I had to remember which bag it is in (having finished packing at 4am that night I had vague memories of what is where). As it was March and the trees were still bare, I was already 20% wet when I finally found and put my rain clothes.
I headed into the rain and the wind with all my powers. In another 30 minutes I was nearly 100% wet and it wasn’t even clear what had more impact – the rain from the outside or the sweat from the inside. I must have looked miserable trying to overcome the weather but I was trying my best to make it on time. Well….I was late for more than an hour and soaking wet! One thing I regret is that we didn’t take any photo when I arrived. It would make for such a good laugh now 😀
Luckily, I was still able to catch my friend for a bit, the sun started to shine (exactly as soon as I arrived) and all the troubles were forgotten.
There are possibly many more mistakes that could happen to you on your Day 1 (read about Niel Gunton’s Day 1 here) but those were mine and I am happy to share them with you. And I would really recommend to make a true test ride with everything you have got to carry on your trip prior to the ride and not to make any time-sensitive appointments. Actually making strict appointments sounds like a bad idea to me anytime on a bicycle journey as there are usually too many unpredictable factors like the weather, roads, punctures, people and the beautiful views you have got to photograph 🙂
