So after leaving the hotel in Gardelegan, I had a quick look around the city, it somewhat redeemed itself after not being able to offer me a kebab at half 11 the night before. The town itself was fairly pretty, and this big ass wooden lad was nice too.

On the road, it all seemed to be going great, I was making good progress, saw some storks, had some cycling banter with a bike gang consisting of 5 old men, and found a dead slow worm. Its the little things.

Then I realised I had I taken the wrong road, and gone 12k north, when I should have been going west. I took the next left, which brought me straight into a strong wind, after a while, I stopped in a nice village called Zichtau.

I broke out the hard boiled egg I robbed from breakfast, it wasn’t hard boiled, and had leaked all over the shop. It went nicely with the day before’s berry stains.

Anyhow, on i went, until the bike felt really hard to pedal again. I pulled into a forest, and took of the back wheel, when I took of the spacer nuts, and tried turning the axel with my fingers, I realised that it was way harder to turn than it should be.

I tried some more oil, didn’t really do anything, so i figured there was dirt of some kind in the bearings. Also, since when do mushrooms grow in August?

I put it all back together, and pushed on into Klotze, where i found a bike shop. The guy, despite his apparent affinity to the Irish, since we’re Beer men too, ( i didn’t have the heart to tell him I was allergic to beer) he just made it worse, and told me that nothing was wrong with it. Well thats awkward. The only thing that could console me was a massive kebab plate, it did, but not for long. It started raining, and as far as I was concerned, the bike was bolloxed and I was gona be stuck there forever. So after stopping into lidl for some emergency kinder, the chocolate not kids, (sorry) I hit the road again, and tried to ignore the bike problems. After a few hours, I made it to Brome, which was pretty boring If I'm honest. About 7 k on the other side of Brome,

I took a turn down into the woods and found a nice big oak tree to pitch the poncho.

I didn’t even try to get a fire going, because everything was wet, it was getting dark, and after my kebab, sandwiches would suffice. You would expect that waking up under a big ail Oak tree would automatically put you in a good mood, seemingly this romantic idea is by no means guaranteed.

I woke up with a sore back, what had seemed like a pretty soft ground when going to sleep, by the morning had turned into somewhat of a mountain range. It could have been the fact that it was really soft, that my body weight squished it down, revealing all the branches, stones, and I shit you not, tree stumps, I don't know how I missed that one. If the sore back wasn't enough, my make shift efforts at insect repellant hadn’t quite worked. I had been told that eating raw garlic keeps the bugs away because it comes out your pores and they can’t stand the smell. Well not these bastard German bugs. I even rubbed garlic on my face and neck, nah, did sweet fuck all, I was absolutely annihilated with bites. One particular one on my arse was really poorly placed for cycling. Sound. So boxers pon de head, sore and dotted, I got up and made myself a sandwich, they usually help, to go with a lovely apple form a tree a bit back. I thought maybe some music would help my mood, so I put on Kingsativa’s I need love, may have been a bad idea. As beautiful a song as it is, or maybe since its so nice, holding back tears proved a bit too much of a challenge. ‘In a time like this, I'm not too proud to pray’ FUCK THAT I AINT PRAYING. ‘When I need a helping hand, I hold on for someone to come’  NOBODYS COMING I’M IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE. But seriously though, listen to the song, its class, one of the best songs to come out of Ireland fo sho. I decided a bit of Grace jones was in order, yup, she sorted me right out. Had a little dance to pull up to the bumper, and felt infinitely better. I packed up my shit and hit the road, 30k flew by, with only one quick stop to fill up my water bottle. I was cruising through a village, and this nice looking old lady was in her front garden, fannyin about with her flowers. I asked if she could possibly fill up my water bottle, in impeccable German of course. She smiled and went in to fill it up. when she came out, she had a big ornate glass bowl piled up with eclairs, again allergic. After explaining i couldn't eat them, in not so impeccable German, and telling her where I was going, with a smile, she wished me luck. the next major town was Gifhorn, so I’d settled with myself that I'd grab a coffee and some ice cream there. Just coming into Gifhorn, there's somewhat of a nature reserve for for windmills, and oh yeh a palace, roadside palace yano? So instead of taking up the groundskeepers offers of giving myself and the other few people in the car park a special tour, at a good price, I scooted around the fence, and nabbed a few snaps.

I went into Gifhorn which was pretty sweet, but has way too many windmills than is practical or necessary. They don't even mill anything anymore ughh. All cynicism aside though, Gifhorn is where its at for windmills, and the town is picturesque as fuck, but also big enough to have oodles of wi fi.

As soon as I’d finished my Ice cream, of course it start raining, so I took the only logical step, and got a kebab. after the rain had stopped, I got going. Now I don’t know why it was only on this road, but all along route 188, theres caravan with little red lights in the windows. The first one even had love hearts painted on the side. The lady of the van even tried to lure me in by beckoning me to come in. Ehhhh no thanks love your grand. So still a bit uncomfortable from all the hookers, who clearly have their target market firmly set on cyclists, (or maybe truckers) I stumbled upon a little snake. Since we dont have anything like this in Ireland, of course I quickly did a Steve Irwin on it, and lifted up his tail, wranglin the lil bugger. all 12 inches of him. I had finally realised my dreams of fucking around with a dangerous animal, all be it oblivious to its potentially deadly nature. After a bit of research, I found out that he was an Ursinii Viper, yup, a viper, In Germany, just chilling out on the cycle path. ‘known to have an irritable disposition. It will readily strike when approached. It has an haemotoxic venom which is quite potent and has caused human deaths’ Well I'm calling bullshit on that one, this lad was sound, and didn't try to bite me at all! So with all the excitement of sex for cash and haemotoxic venom, I made it to Burgdorf, although by the time I got there, I was drenched through from the rain, and pretty cold. At this point I should mention that I've gotten really into Ice cream, and its now almost a habit to get some wherever I go, even if I'm sitting there, in the rain, cold, as I was in Burgdorf, It really didn't make any sense. So after polishing of the rest my sandwich materials, I headed for Hanover. Just on the outskirts, I asked an older lady which way to Hanover. Now I wouldn't mind, but she specifically asked, by bike? and when the obvious, (I'm on a bike ya dope) was confirmed, she gave me directions, seemingly specific to bikes. They were simple, and i followed them, however, turns out the road kinda just kept getting bigger, until it was a motorway. I only got one beep, a few raised hands through a window, but thats probably because it didn't last very long. Something felt really wrong with the bike, so I pulled into the fairly tiny margin. The bracket that was holding the back rack onto the bike, which I got just before leaving, had broken in half, which meant that the rack was like a seesaw pivoted at the middle of my back wheel. I took the bag off, and had a look in the top pocket of my bag, which has now become ‘the man drawer’ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RgUpDGAIdds I found a cable tie, and some string that was tangled up in some wood at the spot I camped the first night and just thought might be handy so grabbed it. (thats a mouthful) So I'm there, at the side of the moterway, lashing the bike back together, when low and behold, the Polizie rock up. I heard them before I saw them, sirens going 90, tearing up the road, they pulled in lively enough, so I went over to the window and your man was on the radio, all I heard was boy and bike. Your wan just kept kinda looking at me funny, say she fancied the hole off me. When they finally got out of the car, the guy throws down the verboten card, asserting that this is ‘absolutely verboten’  I threw the ignorance card right back at them, pleading that i thought this was the route 188, and since there were no signs how could i know? hoping to appeal to their logical nature. I highly doubt they bought my story, but they were pretty nice about the whole thing. It did worry me a little however when they had asked for my passport, and then told me I'd have to meet them under the bridge, pointing to a cluster of flyovers and bridges. Which one though? 'That one'. Oh right yeh no bother. You don’t really question anyone who has a gun on their hip, even if they seem sound. So nipping around under the bridges, we found each other. They asked me to fill in my address, I panicked and told them that faithlegg was in mullinavat, Co. Kilkenny, and switched up a few digits in my number. Even if its just a formality, I don’t really like police in any country having my details, however ill founded my aversion may be. So after all that was done, I said sorry, the fella said ok, now not to sound cocky, but the young wan kinda giggled and said oh its no problem. So off I went, I kept thinking I could hear the sirens coming back to tell me my details didn’t match up. Is that a thing? Can they do that? Paro ta fuck, I whizzed into hanover on the nice road with a cycle path running parallel to the motorway, convenient. That whizzing mind you was only after I had to take off one of the brake pads on the back brakes, since the lashed together rack was now pushing on the brakes, making it like constantly cycling up a real big hill. In hanover, I made for the train station, felt kinda nice being like uhhh, next train to Amsterdam please, I didn't go for the next one, since there was about 5 changes. 6.40 it was so. I booked into a hostel, the cheapest one in town, and when I arrived the scaldy looking head out the front wasn't really selling it great, I asked him where reception was, and he grunted and pointed across the car park. Following on from the helpful grunt, I found reception, and checked in, robbing a few sweets to keep me going till the shitty falafel I got later. the hostel was grand, and i think theres was only about 5 in the 12 bed bed dorm, although it was hard to see anything, it being dark an all. So bright and early up I got, and nipped into town, doing surprisingly well at finding my way around. When I got to the station I took the wheels off my bike, since the women at the desk had assured me that once the wheels are off its just luggage, and I wouldn't need a bike ticket, which were sold out for this service anyway. Armed with sushi and a really sweet, as in sugar ladened, smoothie, I hopped on, and of course, the women came over and told me that this wouldn't work, and that my bike would fall over, lies, but anyway. The betch made me move it down to the bike carriage and pay an extra 9 squid. Bastards. After one delay when the engine broke down, we pulled into Amsterdam spitting rain and overcast. So the cycle was over, and while parts of it had been fairly rough, fairly tough, wanting to give up a few times and could well have had I not been in the back arse of nowhere, I'd do it again in heartbeat. It was immensely satisfying to know that you're not relying on anyone, its all on you. Its daunting no doubt, but it also gives a great sense of freedom. You have control, you are the only variable, and that's very comforting. I don't know whether its just me, but I like the balance of a situation to be in my hands, I can trust myself, I know what I'm capable of, just, and I feel I can rely on it. I have no problem with danger or risk, when I know I’m the variable, its like climbing up a tree and hanging out from a branch, they're your hands, and you know you're not gonna fuck it up. Now this is all well and good, being a lone wolf feels nice, but company also feels pretty fucking good too. Top tip? Adopt the buddy system, if your having a shit day, then its nice to have someone to cheer you up, or someone else with the shits. Its just a matter of doing it with someone who’s coming from the same place, seeking uncertainty, in search of the unknown. You want someone that isn't gonna try and carry you when you don't need it, or wont need to be carried themselves. Travel light, get a good lightweight sleeping bag, for adults, and dont lose it. Get a touring bike. As much as I love my bike, and as fun as it is without the extra weight, the rucksack strapped to the back doesn't really sit well with her. The bike itself is real light, and everything on it is on the smaller side, so throwing loads of extra weight on her means wobbles, lots them, it felt like the whole bike was twisting and bending at the pressure. She made it though, and for that I’m very grateful of the abandoned house on Dorset street I found her in. She’d do it again in the morning no bother, keeping it simple, single speed. Cycle touring is hard, but its a lot of fun, its the waking up every morning and having no idea where you're gonna rest your head that night, but being comfortable with that, knowing all you need, not want, is strapped to the back of your rothar. So go try it now yeh?  X

So after waking up and feeling a bit shit, and covered in bites, getting back on this track leading back to the road, all was good again. Road less travelled blah blah blah.

I had planned to get a bit of wi fi in Genthin to update this thing, but when I asked around, they assured me i wouldnt find any. Pretty as parts of the old town where, I got some league of gentlemen 'this is a local shop for local people' vibes from the few old people cruising around on their old bikes.
One thing which Genthin did pretty well however, was the colours on the bridge coming into it, rocking that Blue and pink all the way.

On the other side of Genthin, I remembered why loads of people go on cycle tours in this part of the world, its really, really beautiful, and flat. The scenery would change from picturesque forests, to vast stretches of agricultural land, maintained with a German sensibility. There was lots of corn fields, hardly any fences, and a lot of the roads had fruit trees dotted along them, handy for a quick snack. The farm buildings are generally made from a nice dark stained timber, with a rustic feel, a lot nicer than our corrugated iron.

I've started to really get the feel for the wobbly bike, and managed to take a few selfies while cycling, and some drive by shootings.

Dotted along the landscape there are lots of wind turbines, and despite what people say, they're class, and these ones where pretty quiet, even when right under them. The dramatic shadows they cast, dancing along the road made for a quite hypnotizing if not a bit distracting show. Topical as they are at the moment, the pylons were not quite as mesmerizing, but more so menacing, sprawling across the land. If faced with a choice of which one I'd like more of in Ireland, I think i know which one I'd go for.

After not long, I got to the town of Ferchland, along the Elbe, when I got there, It was yet another lovely little town, not many people around though, these guys however where chilling on the main street. 

 I soon realised after closer inspection of the map, the road actually stopped here, so I went down to the river, with hope of maybe some people pout canoeing who could ferry me across, to my relief, and partial disappointment, there was a ferry just loading up with one car, 2 quid with a bike, not bad.

On the other side, the next town was Grieben, which had a sweet windmill in the middle, along with lots of really nice Gardens and  friendly looking elderly German folk out tending to them in the intense sun.

Just on the other side of Grieben, I realised I was starting to get quite a tan line from my camera strap, so I put it away, perhaps not the best idea, but definitely sped up progress. After a roadside lunch stop and a few water breaks, I made it to Dolle, which according to the map, would lead me to a nice straight road through a forest, the road however was a windy, real bumpy, dirt track, not ideal when you're riding 23s with a lot of weight on the back wheel, and the bike is a bit bandy as it is. After about a kilometer, I turned back, as I knew 20 odd more would almost certainly result in a flat tyre and wouldn't do the rest of the bike any favours. the only other route i could take was 18 km up a main road, and then around another 15k on a secondary, around to where I should have come off the 'road'. Shitting a brick, I headed off up the road, which was pretty busy, and for some reason seemed to be a favorite of big trucks going really fast. I only got beeped at once, but two nice Germans gals did pull over at one stage to see if i was alright, when I told them all was good, they looked a little confused, but wished me look and went on. I have to say this was one of the most scared I've ever been, I'm all up for 'EXTREME YEA ROCK 'N' ROLL' and all that jazz, but this was taking the piss. There was one particularly big downhill stretch, which meant I had built up some substantial speed, I had about 2 foot between the ditch and the speeding cars and trucks, and some serious speed wobbles. To make matters worse, the trucks create quite a gust as they zoom past, which shakes you further, and they're pretty loud too. I was holding on as tight as I could, trying to keep her steady, tensing my whole body, and repeatedly screaming FAAAACK. After getting to the end of this road, i was on quite the adrenaline buzz, and whizzed on to Gardelegen, making great time, and ending up on a few more stretches of main road, but luckily they weren't as busy. When i got into Gardelegen, again that plan was nab some wi fi and head out of town to find somewhere to camp, but sure enough, nowhere was open, and anywhere that was, definitely didn't have wi fi. With some fairly ominous looking rain clouds, and fast approaching darkness, I decided to go mad and book myself into a shitty hotel the only one in the village.

My room had a weird leaf pattern thing on the wall that looked like a 3rd class art project, there was some mould on the bread at breakfast, and internet was fiver, still though, its a roof. within seconds of being on the place, I had bike grease all over the bed, and shortly after, I had managed spilled canned herring juice everywhere, the place subsequently still smells like herring, its not nice. I'm fairly sure I should have checked out by now, but I still have to wash my pots in the shower and pack my bag. Over and out. x

The second day of the trip felt like the first proper day, since i had only gotten started at around 6 the day before. So after getting some stuff in potsdam, the rain had stopped, and the sun had very much come out, I headed off, heading towards Brandenburg. The first 15k were lovely, but then i got to this really straight, really exposed road, headed right into some fairly strong wind, which was a bitch. After pushing through for a while, i thought it might not just be the wind. I broke out my pound shop 'precision engineering oil' squeezing it all over my chain and any other moving parts, much better, I really should have done that before I left. when i got to brandenburg, slimy with sweat, my plans of sitting outside with some ice cream and wi fi may have been a little romantic. The ice cream was great, but the only wi fi I could find was in the shopping center, which got me some funny looks with the contents of my rucksack all over the floor just so could get at my laptop. Thats the problem with having all your stuff strapped to your bike, even simple things like going into a shop is tricky, because firstly it takes a while to take off the tangle of bungee cords and what not, and then getting at anything in a really tightly packed bag means pouring your stuff all over the place.

After refuelling on ice cream, espressos and wi fi, i headed off to Genthin, the bike felt great, and the road was real smooth and straight through a lovely forest, with the sun really low and ahead of me, the advantage of cycling west in the evenings! Coming into Genthin, 77 k from my lakeside camping mat, the forest looked fab, so i decided to go get some food, and come back out the road a bit and find a nice spot. Armed with some kidney beans, shocker, and a few other bits and bobs, i headed back out the road. The impression i got of Genthin was that its quite an industrial town, and scaldy enough. There wasn't many people around, i suppose it was the evening, but the few people still knocking around looked rough as a bears arse, not exactly inspiring confidence in the place i was about to camp. Back out the road, the forest looked a lot more inviting than the people, especially with the trees fab two tone get up.

Once i ventured into the forest, it looked even nicer, especially when you get down low, since the trees aren't in rows, but still have that super straight commercial forestry vibe going on.

Since I was a little wary of the locals, I made sureIi wheeled the bike real deep into the forest, not easy when the weight over the back wheel makes it wheelie at any given opportunity, or just fall over from being top heavy.

Once you cant hear the road any more, all you can hear, apart from the odd distant train, is animals. Now I'm fairly into animals, but when you can't see them, but you can hear them all around you, twigs snapping, or rustling, and its getting dark, forest animals are creepy as fuck.

After settling in, pitching the poncho, lighting the fire with dinner cooking, ( Bear grylls eat your fucking heart out) i decided to get comfy and slip into my new 'Ricky Racoon' sleeping bag. When I took it out of the bag however, the name made a lot more sense, its a kids sleeping bag. I guess i should have read the 150 cm on the end. Oh well, at least it kept the bottom half of me warm, with my fleece, two vests and a T doing the top half just fine. That said, I woke up with a very cold head at one stage, and had to wrap a T shirt around my head, maybe shaving my head has its downsides. After dinner, and with no battery left on my laptop, the only thing on my mind was whether or not i should ring someone to get them to google if Germany has any wild animals that might actually be a threat, which i can now tell you it does by the way, FUCKING WOLVES not that theres many of them, but they're still there, oh and boars, WILD BOARS. I decided against the phone call, as I'd never hear the end of it if i did, even, in fact, especially if i rang my mom. The only other disturbance during the night was when I woke up at around 3, thinking there was someone shining a torch at me, that super moon really keeps on giving and giving.

I woke up feeling well rested, but for some reason I thought my friends where there, when I looked over and they weren't, I was firstly pissed off that they'd headed off without me, but upon realising that I was on my own, I felt a bit lonely and sad, so I went back to sleep, how I deal with most of my problems!,  Oh, and I had the shits, and only three sheets, of toilet paper left, I kept telling myself, make it work James, make it work, so I did.

So yesterday i finally set off on my cycle, 11 days late, battered, bruised and blister footed, 11 days well spent, I regret nothing! After farting about, procrastinating for the day, I set off at around 6, which was a poor idea. Finding my way out of the sprawl that is Berlin was tricky enough, and of course i was under time pressure to get out of the city, so i could camp somewhere quiet. The bike felt fairly wobbly, with the added weight strapped to the back of it, so i went and bought a helmet! I managed to get to a spot next to a lake that seemed pretty secluded, although it was fairly dark when i got there. Somehow i managed to lose my sleeping bag along the way, i have no idea how! so i had to use my poncho/tarp and wrap it around my legs because i hadn't brought any pants, just shorts, brilliant. After cooking a bit of grub on the fire, and putting on pretty much all of my cloths to keep warm, i took advantage of the remnants of the super moon, this 25 second exposure was taken with only moon light. after the wind calmed down i wrapped myself up in my plastic blanket and tried to sleep.

 After getting asleep, I was woken up by a really loud, really scary train, and i was freezing, back to sleep, and the same story about an hour later, this went on for the night, wake up shitting a brick at the noise, wrap myself up really tight in the poncho and try again. I woke up at 4.45 and the moon was pretty sweet with the clouds. At this stage though, wearing anything i could, I was really really cold, so i light a fire, heating up some of last nights dinner, ate it and curled up on next to it. Also, the Germans like to go to work at this time, i got some pretty funny looks.

After a few more hours kip by the fire, i woke up to a nice bit of sun. adamant I could find my sleeping bag, i heading back the way i came to the last place i had my bag open, 7 km the wrong way, no joy. picked up a nice little sleeping bag and an espresso. Then it started to rain. this gal knows the craic with cycling in the rain, pity i have to hold on with both hands for dear life or the bike wobbles violently! note to self, get a touring bike. 

Sheltering in a cafe, i think one double espresso only get you so much internet, they're starting to give me looks. At least it looks like the sun is coming out, and i have a sleeping bag, they're defo important. 

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