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Cycling and sailing in Norway, part 2

20 Aug

Mileage: 6km, from Brekstad to Austrått
Why: Catching up with the boat and visiting Austrått castle
Food: Waffles at Austrått castle

Our guide explains 'the only gate of its kind south of Spain'

‘Greenland, the Orkneys and Iceland used to be Norwegian,’ the formidable Austrått guide informed us. ‘And I want them back!’

Our guide was showing us around Austrått castle, and was quite adamant that the shrinking of Norwegian territories had been quite unjust. She was less clear on what exactly we should be doing with a bunch of sheep and unpredictable volcanoes, should we ever get them back, but at least Austrått seemed the correct venue to start her campaign.

Austrått castle doesn’t look much like the grand castles dotted around the rest of Europe, but it has a key location by the entrance to the Trondheimsfjord, and has been the seat of various Norwegian aristocratic families since 1000AD. Many of them have been the subject of plays and operas, such as Ibsen’s Lady Inger of Oestraat’, and our guide had opinions on most of the owners.

'The fair maidens' overlook the castle courtyard

She was most incensed by Christian Frederik von Marschalck, whose disastrous tenancy she seemed to view as a personal affront. Ove Bjelke, the 17th century owner who was responsible for the castle’s current look, on the other hand, was treated with a degree of awe, and she finished the tour by throwing open the door to a small, intimate room, declaring ‘meet Ove!’. Ove was happily hidden inside a wooden casket, and therefore not able to greet us, but we still got a fright.

We’d cycled out from Hovde Gård in Brekstad earlier that morning, and had found two further hotels along the tiny high street. Three hotels is no mean feat for a town of 1,900 inhabitants, but then the Fosen peninsula has always been of vital importance to the Trondheimsfjord; originally because it controlled access to the fjord and therefore also Trondheim, but more latterly because it houses one of the Norwegian Air Force’s two main airports.

The Germans also understood this, building a fortress close to Austrått castle, in order to defend their interests in the fjord during WW2. It never saw action, as it happens, but it’s still an interesting sight.

The canon is now trained on Brekstad...

Apart from the castle and the fortress, the peninsula attracts visitors for the fishing, boating and cycling, all of which are stellar. We therefore headed back to the boat, packed up the bikes and set sail for Leksvik for a spot of fishing.

A fisherman's job is never done

Coalfish is the name of the game in Leksvik, and a combination of flow and ebb and local knowledge was all we needed to rake in 24 sizeable fish in a pretty short period of time. This promoted my mum to captain, whilst my dad was locked out on deck with the seagulls in order to gut fish. Simon, meanwhile, hit the aquavit bottle, having been brought low by a combination of sunburn and seasickness.

It was midnight by the time we returned to Levanger. A few hours later we had feasted on flatbread, pan-fried coalfish and copious anchor drams.

Not quite midnight sun in Levanger, but almost

The next adventure was camping, but as bikes never featured I shall spare you the tale of my 104 mosquito bites…

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Cycling and sailing in Norway, part 1

19 Aug

Mileage: 16 km
Why: Take in the stunning views of the Fosen peninsula
Food: None en-route, but amply fuelled by burgers pre-cycling and aquavit post-cycling

Luggage batch no 2...

As Contador and Schleck were getting ready to battle for the yellow jersey on the Tour’s final time trial, I had an even bigger task ahead of me – how to pack for a one night boat trip including sunbathing, deep-sea fishing, cycling, sightseeing, trekking,  a celebration dinner and a stay in a very nice hotel.

This itinerary might sound daunting, but we actually started out with five hours solid sun-bathing, borne out of sheer relief that it was at all possible. The day before we had arrived to a Trondheim airport so rain-soaked that the lady in the seat in front had put on a rain cape whilst still on the plane. Not the weather for either cycling or sailing.

On the day of our little fjordcruise, however, the sun filled the open expanse of the fjord with light and glittering sea. Our transport was Hilda II, my parents’ little fishing boat, stroke floating hotel, and the venue of a an ongoing tug of war, whose battle lines  are drawn across the cabin entrance. The inside, a meticulously clean and tidy dictatorship ruled by my mum’s iron fist vs the outside, a relaxed fishing and sunbathing space ostensibly belonging to my dad, but where even the seagulls are made feel my mum’s influence.

Setting out from Levanger

As the sun was out and the sea ‘oily’, the rather picturesque term for calm, black water, we chugged along the shore in leisurely fashion in no hurry at all. We started in Levanger, towards the inner end, heading for Brekstad, on the inside tip of the peninsula enclosing the wide, open basins of the fjord.

The Trondheimsfjord lacks the drama of the Western fjords, but it is both prettier and gentler, or at least when the weather gods are in a good mood. That might not be so much of an issue further in, but Brekstad looked like the recipient of an unexpected and sizeable lottery win when we arrived. The landscape is flat and treeless, thus facing all the mood swings of the Atlantic weather, so the inhabitants had wasted no time in getting out shorts and bikinis when faced with a sunny, windless day.

But on to the cycling. Hilda II is equipped for everything from fishgutting to champagne toasts, so we shouldn’t have been surprised at the appearance of two fold-up bikes in the hold. Putting them together was a different issue, but someone has to take the photos, after all, so I left it to the boys.

Complicated stuff...

Having eventually solved that puzzle, Simon and I jumped on the funky, little 24-gear bikes and headed off along the coast. As the peninsula narrowed we had views to the sea on both sides, the evening sun bathing the fields in the characteristic golden light of the fjord

The tip of the Fosen peninsula

The flat landscape also makes the area perfect for cyclists of all abilities, with long , traffic-free coastal roads stretching all the 130-odd km to the end of the fjord. Our trip was shorter, as we were only 8km from the tip, but we were met by a great deal of lycra along the way, some with bulging panniers, others whizzing past our little contraptions – all but one, who had all the gear, but still lost out to our rather modest speed. Just goes to prove that equipment and ability are in no way related.

The anchor dram was waiting for us when we returned to the boat. This tradition is observed in boats of all descriptions, and dictates that a small toast must be made at the safe return of any journey. Not sure how much danger we had ever been in on the placid fjord, but any excuse for a glass of Aquavit seemed good enough at this point.

As Hilda II is not the most spacious, Simon and I took our bags on the short walk to Hovde Gård for the night, which was also to be the venue for my dad’s birthday dinner.

Miss Brekstad's room in Hovde Gaard

Norwegian hotels are generally practically inclined, eschewing style for functionality, but Hovde Gård proved the exception. Once a housekeeping school, the old building has been lovingly restored and is now an elegant hotel with a real sense of history and atmosphere. The main building has kept the lay-out of the school, with rooms named after the original inhabitants and shared showers and bathrooms, and though a more modern set-up is available in the annex, we never regretted opting for the main house.

'The barn' restaurant

The restaurant proved to be a match for the hotel, serving delicious seafood dishes in what used to be the barn. Thus we could celebrate my dad’s birthday in true style, feasting on monkfish in seafood sauce and home-made caramel pudding. Nothing left to do but to let the sea air and the duck feather duvet lull us to sleep. Bliss.

Evening at Hovde Gaard

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Is it possible to cycle in Athens?

11 Jun

Having said that it is our ambition to cycle everywhere we go, Athens very nearly defeated us.

Cycling and Greece - incompatible?

We were in Athens to visit friends over Easter, pre-petrol bombs and anarchists, and set off firmly committed to the principle of sightseeing by bike. I’d found www.pamevolta.gr on the net beforehand, which seemed to be the only bike rental in town, and had even printed off maps of potential routes. Mainland Greece doesn’t have much culture for cycling, after all, so it seemed a good idea to be prepared.

Stellar as my forethought had been, however, it didn’t include writing down any such useful thing as address or phone number. Never mind, we thought, we’ll ask around. Our hotel concierge was no help. ‘Renting bikes in Athens!’ he exclaimed with a mix of bewilderment and disgust. ‘Never heard of such a thing’.

We took to asking shop-keepers and waiters instead. Again with the bewildered head-shaking. Finally, we met with a rotund Athenian who assured us with confidence  that there was a bicycle rental place the next street down. We found a street-full of cars and motorbikes.

In truth, we did see very few cyclists, and none on rented bikes. Car-free areas were hard to come by too, despite the complete lack of traffic (Greek Easter = everyone on holiday), but still. Surely it is possible to cycle in Athens?

The sailor's chapel in the harbour of Aegina town

Finally we took a break from our fruitless search, and jumped on a ferry to the island of Aegina instead. It was never our plan to cycle there, but you know what it’s like when you’re looking for something – you only find it when you’ve stopped looking.

We were approached by a guy in the port (post-picnic, obviously), who asked if we wanted to rent bicycles. He did seem slightly non-plussed when we said yes, and it became something of a challenge for him to find four workable bikes, but he got there in the end.

Thus we set off along the coast, with around fifteen gears between us, doled out indiscriminately, seats as hard as rock and both the boys on ladies’ bikes. Simon and I were so upright on ours that we acted as sails in the wind.

But we were on bikes, as we’d wanted, the sea was sparkling in the sun and the island was truly stunning. Yes, ok, so we weren’t actually in Athens, but it was part of the same holiday and at least none of the drivers tried to kill us. We gave up on cycling in Athens.

Girlie bikes...

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On two-wheeled travelling

4 Jun

I’m a traveller first and foremost, and that is my main reason for loving cycling. I can’t think of any other mode of transport that will allow you to see this much, get this close to your destination or give you this much flexibility; cars whizz past, trains don’t allow you to stop, tubes do both in depressing darkness, and whilst walking is great, it’s just, well – slow. 

Cycling, on the other hand, is fast enough to move you along at a nice pace, but slow enough to notice that hidden cafe, laugh at that funny sign or discover things your guidebook didn’t mention. Outlandish as it might sound, cycling is my favourite way of exploring and one of my top tips for travellers. And, no, great fitness is normally not required, nor does it necessarily make you all hot and bothered.

Here’s how to make it work.

Stop

Stop and stare...

Stop, as in take time to investigate all the interesting things you come across. The whole point of the exercise is to see (and eat!) things you otherwise wouldn’t, so allow yourself time to depart from schedule. Thanks to cycling, I’ve been in a Nepalese traffic jam caused by cows (very cute, and being on a bike I got past when everyone else was stuck), discovered Norway’s best cinnamon buns in Lofoten, and seen the world’s oldest prefabricated house in Austria (Villa Blumenthal in Bad Ischl – dismantled and reassembled three times, no less), none of which I would otherwise have done.

Come prepared

City sightseeing or country-side excursions? The first requires a guide book and a vague idea of route, if you want to visit specific sights, whilst cycling shorts might be a good idea for the second. Either way, a good map is rather useful, since losing yourself in interesting alleys or country lanes is only fun if you can find your way back again. And you’ll save yourself some bother if have some idea which routes are best in advance.

Also, figure out where to rent the bikes before you leave home. If you are going to Holland, say, then it’s fairly safe to say that you’ll find more bikes than you’ll know what to do with, and a decent hotel in any location ought to be able to help you, but it’s still a good idea to come armed with some phone numbers of rental companies.

Be flexible

…and just as you’ve prepared yourself and made all those lovely plans, be prepared to scrap them. Ask around, listen to local advice and change your plans accordingly. The old town of Seville isn’t made for cycling, as it turns out, but the river area is, and the guy who thrust bikes at us on the island of Aegina in Greece really had a point.

Get chatting

Cycling is a bit like having a dog, I’ve noticed – it gets you talking to people. The bike might not be quite as proactive in that department as the dog, but cyclists tend to be friendly folk who like to stop for a chat with like-minded people. Great for swapping tales and recommendations on routes.

Conversely, if you’re in a country where cycling isn’t part of the culture, you’ll have a ready-made conversation topic with any local who stares at you with bemusement and incredulity. He, or she, will have a great story to tell friends of that mad foreigner who thought cycling in Athens was a good idea (yes, that was me), and you might get some insider tips on where to point your wheels next (much head-scratching here from the Athenians, but there was consensus that the islands were very nice. Rather missed the point of cycling in Athens itself, but still).

Weave food into your trip

A snack stop in Croatia

Apart from building up an appetite, thus making cream cakes guilt-free pleasures, a day on a bike can take you via markets, bakeries, pubs, cafes and restaurants, and the one does not necessarily exclude the others. You can make scheduled stops at famous eateries, even if they’re several miles apart, or be impulsive and stop wherever takes your fancy. Either way, there’s no better way to try local delicacies, especially since you can expect to burn at least 400 calories per hour (and that’s conservative). No reason not to put it back on again…

Patisseries make the world a better place…

Whether it’s just some dried figs from the local market you passed by or a full-on picnic, making use of that front basket or pannier is just plain sensible. You never know what you’ll find, and a beautiful view or a scenic park bench become even nicer if you’ve had the foresight to make a stop by a local bakery. It is my firm belief that the world becomes a better place when experienced alongside pastries, tarts and cakes of all descriptions…

Bring water!

Just one snippet of practical advice – nothing is much fun when you’re parched and dying of thirst, which is a not too unlikely a scenario unless you find yourself cycling in the Indian monsoon. Nothing is much fun in the rain either, though, to be honest, so I’d stick with bringing plenty of bottled water for excursions in dry’ish weather. Having said that, being caught in a sudden downpour in Denmark was one of my best cycling experiences – we were by the beach, so decided to abandon the bikes and go for a rainy swim since we were soaked through anyway. We dried up over a hot chocolate back at our cabin and agreed that it was by far our best outing of the trip.

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Group holidays or do it yourself?

1 Jun

Having based a few holidays around cycling, I’ve now tried most approaches. My personal preference leans towards the self-guided tours or doing it independently, as I like flexibility and privacy, but they all have their pros and cons.  

Group trips

'Grouping' it

I once tackled the hilly Dalmatian islands in Croatia as part of a group with Norwegian company Olivenreiser. The bikes were excellent, the routes challenging and the group nice, although largely twice my age. That particular holiday had the unusual approach of using a ship as a floating hotel, restaurant and luggage transporter, which was both a blessing and a curse, depending on whether we’re reviewing the sun deck and the mode of transport, or the dodgy chef and the en-suite bathrooms.

As far as general group cycling goes, though, I’m going to sit on the fence. The pros and cons are pretty much exactly the same and it really boils down to personal preference – not to my personal favourite, though I had a great time in Croatia.

Pros:
Support – because you’ll have a tour leader on hand, you will always have someone to help with anything from punctures to crashes and medical problems, which can be very reassuring, particularly if you’re a beginner.
Safety in numbers – cycling as part of a group tends to keep drivers at arm’s length. You’re hard to miss, after all.
The social side – you’ll meet new people, make friends and have access to endless encouragement when the going gets tough. There’s bound to be someone who’s less fit than you too, so good for your self-esteem (except when 80-year-old Eddie whizzed past me up the hills of Brac – a spectacular confidence-killer!)
Guiding – you’ll have a (hopefully) experienced guide who can act as a font of all knowledge about the places you visit. Kind of like an interactive guidebook.   

Cons:
The social side – it’s both a strength and weakness, to my mind. Great if you get on with your fellow cyclists and make friends, not so much if you find yourself in a group of people you have nothing in common with.
Safety in numbers? Actually, it doesn’t always work that way. Many participants on group holidays don’t get taught basic signals for stopping or indicating, and with everyone bunched up, it’s more likely to be your fellow cyclists who cause you to crash then the local drivers.
Lack of flexibility – you have little to no control over route or itinerary, and you’re completely dependent on good organisation from the company’s side. Whether or not you get a good guide can be hit and miss too.
Exploring – the problem with the group set-up is that you often end up interacting less with the rest of your surroundings. It’s harder for groups to scratch the surface of a place than for individuals.
Bikes – Olivenreiser used great ones, but that’s not guaranteed, so check with the company in advance. 

Do it yourself

We’ve tried various versions of using a hotel as a base for cycling excursions. Our one foray into the world of packing with panniers was in Røros in Norway, and it was definitely one of our best holidays. But it’s not for everyone.  

Pros:
Complete control – you go wherever you like, whenever you like, choose your own hotels, etc. There are parts of the world, such as the Alps, where pre-booking really isn’t necessary either. It doesn’t get more flexible!
The world is your oyster! Investigate interesting things, unearth hidden gems, meet fascinating people. The independence of it is heady, and your inner explorer really wants to get out.
The bike – you can get the best bike for you, or can even bring your own. 

Cons:

Panniers and fishing rods - not a great combo?

Panniers – as far as I’m concerned, panniers are great contraptions for transporting cameras and picnics, but really not suited to luggage. Apart from rendering everything creased (and damp, when it rains), there is very little room. Requires some serious packing and practical skills!
Support – you’re on your own, so you really should have some basic bike repair skills and a good set of tools with you.
Planning – whilst the flexibility is glorious, it’s obviously going to give you a fair bit of work planning routes, hotels and food, as well as getting together the necessary phone numbers for emergencies, etc.   

Self-guided tours

Freewheeling in Austria

There are several companies that offer a sort of hybrid holiday option between the above, amongst them Freewheel and Skedaddle. The basic concept here is to allow the cyclists to make their own way between hotels, whilst the company organises routes and hotels, and sorts out transportation of suitcases. Cyclists are given maps of tried and tested routes, but aren’t bound by them, and can cycle in their own pace and time.  

We tried Freewheel’s Austrian Lakes holiday a year ago, and were really impressed with this concept.

Pros:
Flexibility – you’ll get maps of recommended routes, but you can always be creative and lengthen them or take another path if you wish. The only constraint is to ensure you get yourself to your designated hotel at some point during the check-in day. Some of these holidays have a fairly packed schedule, others weave in down-time where you can take your bikes and go exploring in your time.
Support – we were given all the necessary equipment, but the company reps were only a phone call away when we needed help (which we did – lovely Graham came to our rescue when a broken chain stopped our progress).  

Cons:
Quality of bikes – you’ll have to accept whatever the company gives you, really, so check up on their models before you book. Freewheel’s bikes were good enough for the recommended routes, but weren’t up to any big hills, which was a shame, given that we were in the Alps.
Hotels – you won’t be able to choose the hotels either. Ours were truly excellent, though, so this isn’t likely to be that much of a problem. All in all, it’s a pretty flexible framework.

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