E
Elisa Francesca Roselli
Guest
I got back on Wednesday, and am still reeling under the spell.
You may remember I was looking for people to accompany me in these
forums, because I was afraid of going alone and was hoping to avoid the
usual “singles surcharge”. The tour was one called “Lost in Bohemia”,
with the company First Light, from 20th to 26th April:
http://www.firstlightbicycling.com/tourDays.php?tour=10
Several things attracted me to this company. Firstly, the idea of van
support. I am a weak cyclist, I go on holiday to enjoy myself and not
to bust my ass, and I like the idea of being able to cycle as much or as
little as I want, at my own speed, without having to inconvenience other
people. (The solution is also ideal for cycling maniacs travelling with
somewhat less maniac companions). You take to the road, and the van
leap-frogs to the next main intersection or rendez-vous point. These are
never more than a dozen or so km apart. So all along the route, you can
decide whether you want to cycle or not. If you encounter a problem like
a flat or a pocky stretch of road, you can find help promptly. The van
also dispenses water, energy bars and other creature comforts of that ilk.
Secondly, I am not in a situation that I can go off on a self-guided
tour. There is no-one to come with me and it is too scary, and frankly
too dangerous, to head out entirely alone in a foreign land where I do
not speak the language, and where no-one would even notice that I’m
missing if I ran into serious trouble. So I liked the idea of joining a
group. First Light’s groups are small as a matter of policy, but in this
case turned out subnormally small: owing to some last-minute
cancellations, there was only one young couple in addition to myself on
the tour, and two wonderful guides just for us three!
Thirdly, I hate, Hate, HATE sharing the road with cars. At home, this
means rising at 5:30 in the morning to be able to find low traffic
conditions commuting to work at dawn. So I was interested in testing out
First Light’s claims, that there are virtually NO CARS on the rural
roads of the countries of the old Eastern Block. And it’s true! This is
a blessed situation which probably will not last: Czech Republic entered
the European Union last year and already the economy seems to be heating
up in preparation for the Euro in 2010.
There was not a single thing on this trip that was short of absolute
bliss. The roads were empty silken ribbons, the hotels almost
outrageously luxurious for my simple tastes, the company enchanting, the
food interesting, varied and palatable, the weather immaculate, and the
sites straight out of the fairy-tales of my childhood.
We met at 8:30 just outside the Europa Hotel on Wenceslas Square, where
I had spent my last night in Prague. The young couple was from
California – he was a project engineer of Indian extraction and such a
cycling nerd that I came to call him Road Runner, like the cartoon. Road
Runner’s pretty, soft-spoken wife was a banker. She kept up with him
most of the time, but on several occasions was happy to let him go on
ahead without her. In addition there was Briand, the owner of First
Light and tour leader, almost continually in quality control mode, and
his assistant Simon, an engaging young British journalist for a cycling
magazine, who is now setting up a cycling related guest house in the
unspoilt wildernesses of Hungary. (check out http://www.tour-central.com/ ).
The first thing we did was to drive to the highest point in the country,
at 3500 ft, to a place called Kvilda in the superb, UNESCO protected
nature reserve of the Sumava forest. This was clever, because it meant
that most of the rest of the tour was downhill, especially on the first day!
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=1577re2.jpg&.src=ph
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=d97bre2.jpg
Snow was still on the ground, but not on the roads. In my childhood,
when I was reading the tales of Hoffmann and Grimm, I had this romantic
vision of a Black Forest of swans and deer and Elf kings and witches …
which was completely dashed when I visited the real Black Forest,
planted out in tidy German rows and reduced to a few polluted copses by
the post-war Economic Miracle. Sumava made me bless the Iron Curtain and
the non-intrusion of the Marshall Plan into this magical place, that,
freed of its shoot-you-on-sight border patrols, has retained its
pristine wild state, except for the excellent trail!
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=1a1fre2.jpg&.src=ph
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=8dc0re2.jpg&.src=ph
The rest of the cycling took mainly through forests, plains and
lakelands. The Trebon region, which we reached in the second half,
boasts 2200 lakes and ponds. Always the same serenity. The weather held
between 15 and 20 degrees, and we never had rain, except one evening
when we were all cosily sheltered with Sachertorten and Schlag in an
after-dinner cafe. I accepted help from the van on uphill portions,
finding pleasant and cultivated conversation with both Briand and Simon,
people who travel, know the world, perpetually seek out the best in
quality and comfort, and have the enterprising creativity and
organizational ability to invent these wonderful trips.
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=852fre2.jpg&.src=ph
Simon rode on ahead. Whenever there was an intersection or a point where
the road might be confusing, he marked the direction with a series of
chalk arrows on the ground. (I thank First Light for this technological
improvement on bread-crumbs.) Despite the solitude, there was never a
moment that I felt abandoned.
On my first day I careened downhill, alone, for 42.65 km, my personal
record for a single day’s cycling. For the rest of the trip I averaged
about 30 km a day: Mr and Mrs Road Runner were doing closer on to 50
miles. I also broke my speed record, which is now at 39.9 km/h. Unlike
on my return from the Netherlands, when I did not feel ready to get on a
bike again for weeks afterwards, this time I’m hard on my horoscopes to
see when I can book another trip.
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=2c29re2.jpg
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=a64cre2.jpg&.src=ph
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=c766re2.jpg&.src=ph
Our second day we cycled towards the gem-town of Cesky Krumlov, once
again, a UNESCO world heritage site. We spend two nights there and Road
Runners and myself used the third day as a rest-day. The magnificent,
spookily Renaissance-Baroque castle at Cesky was well worth the visit.
Like many Czech Castles, it is said to be haunted, but in the pristine
sunlight I did not encounter the White Lady with her inauspiciously
coloured gloves.
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=e7f2re2.jpg&.src=ph
That same afternoon, I visited the spa at the 5-star Ruze Hotel for a
90-minute full-body massage. I’d never done that before! I especially
appreciated feet and throat; my back was a little sore afterwards from
the pummelling, but pleasantly so.
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=a079re2.jpg&.src=ph
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=b69cre2.jpg&.src=ph
Other towns on our night-stops included Trebon, Jindrichuv Hradec and
the Hussite fortress town of Tabor. The topology for all three was
similar: a central square with a fountain and quaint buildings, and a
noteworthy castle with extensive, cyclable gardens (Trebon’s even had
peacocks). The indefatigable Road Runners visited every castle while I
lounged in full length hot baths or checked my email at the hotel.
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=991are2.jpg&.src=ph
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=42f5re2.jpg&.src=ph
Lunches and drinks along the route were also sheltered by magnificent
places of note. Although I had eaten rather unevenly in Prague, I
quickly came to appreciate the food in the carefully chosen restaurants
along the way. I am impressed at the cosmopolitanism of the Czechs. For
example, they always offer vegetarian selections on the menus, something
that would be unheard of in France. The standard is meat or duck, a
range of different bread and potato dumplings, cabbage, but there are
many palatable variations. In those lakes, fresh-water fish abound, and
I delighted in perch fillets or smoked trout. I learned a great Garlic
and Cheese soup under the bastions of Rozmberk Castle. In Cesky Krumlov
we dined in a fascinating restaurant that tries to re-create medieval
peasant cuisine. I shared a vegetarian platter with Mrs Road Runner that
was all millet and garlic, bulgur wheat with mushrooms, rice patties,
potato gnocchi garnished with fried onions. Czech Republic is also
famous for its beer, the best in the world after only Belgium. There
were some magnificent brews, and I especially recommend the flavoursome,
full-bodied dark ones with their redolences of caramel and wood smoke.
Road Runner was one of those annoying people who can engulf unlimited
continents of pizza and ice-cream and still be thin as a rail: we
sampled a pizzeria in Jindrichuv Hradec that upheld the international
standard. On our final night, we had a gourmet meal in Tabor at a
hotel-restaurant that had just opened and that Briand wanted to sample.
In addition to its being very good and wonderfully festive, it was
beautifully and tastefully decorated. The owner, a very interesting man,
was a Czech-Briton who had been a university geologist and
palaeontologist in his previous life in the UK – another case of No
Going Back. He came and chatted to us as we dined, conscientious to meet
his customers and know their preferences.
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=892are2.jpg
Another point of note: I must mention the extraordinary bathrooms in the
Czech Republic! There was not a single pissing point on this whole trip,
no matter how isolated or rural, that was not squeaky clean, spacious,
luxuriously tiled, amply provided with toilet paper and washup
facilities, and looking like it had just been installed last week. You
might think it scatological to devote a paragraph to this, but
inaccessible or unuseably skanky bathrooms are one of my most
longstanding anxieties as a traveller, especially as a fat, incontinent
cyclist with allergies causing explosive sneezes and coughs - a phobia
continually justified and fed by bathrooms in France, alas.
As a further general aside, I would avert travellers to Czech Republic
of Killer Cobblestones in almost all the ancient towns. I am especially
bad on cobblestones because my faulty balance cannot handle them. The
most lasting sensory impression I came back with is not of cycling but
of sore feet! I do not know if there is a pair of shoes that can be
designed to mitigate the problem for me, but be warned to take
super-insoled special arch-supported cobble-buster shoes with at least
an inch of isolating rubber if you plan ever to get off your bikes!
I was also enchanted with the bike care. First Light provides top-end
Cannondales as part of its package, and the ones I saw looked new and
gorgeous, impeccably maintained. However, having been very unhappy last
year with the rented bikes on my Netherlands trip, I preferred to take
my beloved Flyzipper. At the entrance to Trebon, Flyzipper repeated his
mysterious stunt of blowing his front inner tube, for no apparent
reason, while at a standstill. Simon not only changed the tube but let
me watch, sought the possible cause of the flat, tested Flyzipper and
offered his knowledge throughout. It is the first time I have been able
to have a general assessment of Fly from an expert with such a thorough
comparative knowledge of bikes. And I learned a lot also, from watching
the cleaning and lubrification of the bikes at the end of the trip. It
is relaxing to be with people minding bikes – I suspect bikes, like
horses or dolphins, have a euphorizing effect on the nerves.
So in short, a 5-star holiday which I would recommend to any non-puritan
whose love of bikes is not inconsistent with a love of comfort and good
living.
EFR
Ile de France
You may remember I was looking for people to accompany me in these
forums, because I was afraid of going alone and was hoping to avoid the
usual “singles surcharge”. The tour was one called “Lost in Bohemia”,
with the company First Light, from 20th to 26th April:
http://www.firstlightbicycling.com/tourDays.php?tour=10
Several things attracted me to this company. Firstly, the idea of van
support. I am a weak cyclist, I go on holiday to enjoy myself and not
to bust my ass, and I like the idea of being able to cycle as much or as
little as I want, at my own speed, without having to inconvenience other
people. (The solution is also ideal for cycling maniacs travelling with
somewhat less maniac companions). You take to the road, and the van
leap-frogs to the next main intersection or rendez-vous point. These are
never more than a dozen or so km apart. So all along the route, you can
decide whether you want to cycle or not. If you encounter a problem like
a flat or a pocky stretch of road, you can find help promptly. The van
also dispenses water, energy bars and other creature comforts of that ilk.
Secondly, I am not in a situation that I can go off on a self-guided
tour. There is no-one to come with me and it is too scary, and frankly
too dangerous, to head out entirely alone in a foreign land where I do
not speak the language, and where no-one would even notice that I’m
missing if I ran into serious trouble. So I liked the idea of joining a
group. First Light’s groups are small as a matter of policy, but in this
case turned out subnormally small: owing to some last-minute
cancellations, there was only one young couple in addition to myself on
the tour, and two wonderful guides just for us three!
Thirdly, I hate, Hate, HATE sharing the road with cars. At home, this
means rising at 5:30 in the morning to be able to find low traffic
conditions commuting to work at dawn. So I was interested in testing out
First Light’s claims, that there are virtually NO CARS on the rural
roads of the countries of the old Eastern Block. And it’s true! This is
a blessed situation which probably will not last: Czech Republic entered
the European Union last year and already the economy seems to be heating
up in preparation for the Euro in 2010.
There was not a single thing on this trip that was short of absolute
bliss. The roads were empty silken ribbons, the hotels almost
outrageously luxurious for my simple tastes, the company enchanting, the
food interesting, varied and palatable, the weather immaculate, and the
sites straight out of the fairy-tales of my childhood.
We met at 8:30 just outside the Europa Hotel on Wenceslas Square, where
I had spent my last night in Prague. The young couple was from
California – he was a project engineer of Indian extraction and such a
cycling nerd that I came to call him Road Runner, like the cartoon. Road
Runner’s pretty, soft-spoken wife was a banker. She kept up with him
most of the time, but on several occasions was happy to let him go on
ahead without her. In addition there was Briand, the owner of First
Light and tour leader, almost continually in quality control mode, and
his assistant Simon, an engaging young British journalist for a cycling
magazine, who is now setting up a cycling related guest house in the
unspoilt wildernesses of Hungary. (check out http://www.tour-central.com/ ).
The first thing we did was to drive to the highest point in the country,
at 3500 ft, to a place called Kvilda in the superb, UNESCO protected
nature reserve of the Sumava forest. This was clever, because it meant
that most of the rest of the tour was downhill, especially on the first day!
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=1577re2.jpg&.src=ph
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=d97bre2.jpg
Snow was still on the ground, but not on the roads. In my childhood,
when I was reading the tales of Hoffmann and Grimm, I had this romantic
vision of a Black Forest of swans and deer and Elf kings and witches …
which was completely dashed when I visited the real Black Forest,
planted out in tidy German rows and reduced to a few polluted copses by
the post-war Economic Miracle. Sumava made me bless the Iron Curtain and
the non-intrusion of the Marshall Plan into this magical place, that,
freed of its shoot-you-on-sight border patrols, has retained its
pristine wild state, except for the excellent trail!
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=1a1fre2.jpg&.src=ph
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=8dc0re2.jpg&.src=ph
The rest of the cycling took mainly through forests, plains and
lakelands. The Trebon region, which we reached in the second half,
boasts 2200 lakes and ponds. Always the same serenity. The weather held
between 15 and 20 degrees, and we never had rain, except one evening
when we were all cosily sheltered with Sachertorten and Schlag in an
after-dinner cafe. I accepted help from the van on uphill portions,
finding pleasant and cultivated conversation with both Briand and Simon,
people who travel, know the world, perpetually seek out the best in
quality and comfort, and have the enterprising creativity and
organizational ability to invent these wonderful trips.
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=852fre2.jpg&.src=ph
Simon rode on ahead. Whenever there was an intersection or a point where
the road might be confusing, he marked the direction with a series of
chalk arrows on the ground. (I thank First Light for this technological
improvement on bread-crumbs.) Despite the solitude, there was never a
moment that I felt abandoned.
On my first day I careened downhill, alone, for 42.65 km, my personal
record for a single day’s cycling. For the rest of the trip I averaged
about 30 km a day: Mr and Mrs Road Runner were doing closer on to 50
miles. I also broke my speed record, which is now at 39.9 km/h. Unlike
on my return from the Netherlands, when I did not feel ready to get on a
bike again for weeks afterwards, this time I’m hard on my horoscopes to
see when I can book another trip.
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=2c29re2.jpg
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=a64cre2.jpg&.src=ph
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=c766re2.jpg&.src=ph
Our second day we cycled towards the gem-town of Cesky Krumlov, once
again, a UNESCO world heritage site. We spend two nights there and Road
Runners and myself used the third day as a rest-day. The magnificent,
spookily Renaissance-Baroque castle at Cesky was well worth the visit.
Like many Czech Castles, it is said to be haunted, but in the pristine
sunlight I did not encounter the White Lady with her inauspiciously
coloured gloves.
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=e7f2re2.jpg&.src=ph
That same afternoon, I visited the spa at the 5-star Ruze Hotel for a
90-minute full-body massage. I’d never done that before! I especially
appreciated feet and throat; my back was a little sore afterwards from
the pummelling, but pleasantly so.
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=a079re2.jpg&.src=ph
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=b69cre2.jpg&.src=ph
Other towns on our night-stops included Trebon, Jindrichuv Hradec and
the Hussite fortress town of Tabor. The topology for all three was
similar: a central square with a fountain and quaint buildings, and a
noteworthy castle with extensive, cyclable gardens (Trebon’s even had
peacocks). The indefatigable Road Runners visited every castle while I
lounged in full length hot baths or checked my email at the hotel.
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=991are2.jpg&.src=ph
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=42f5re2.jpg&.src=ph
Lunches and drinks along the route were also sheltered by magnificent
places of note. Although I had eaten rather unevenly in Prague, I
quickly came to appreciate the food in the carefully chosen restaurants
along the way. I am impressed at the cosmopolitanism of the Czechs. For
example, they always offer vegetarian selections on the menus, something
that would be unheard of in France. The standard is meat or duck, a
range of different bread and potato dumplings, cabbage, but there are
many palatable variations. In those lakes, fresh-water fish abound, and
I delighted in perch fillets or smoked trout. I learned a great Garlic
and Cheese soup under the bastions of Rozmberk Castle. In Cesky Krumlov
we dined in a fascinating restaurant that tries to re-create medieval
peasant cuisine. I shared a vegetarian platter with Mrs Road Runner that
was all millet and garlic, bulgur wheat with mushrooms, rice patties,
potato gnocchi garnished with fried onions. Czech Republic is also
famous for its beer, the best in the world after only Belgium. There
were some magnificent brews, and I especially recommend the flavoursome,
full-bodied dark ones with their redolences of caramel and wood smoke.
Road Runner was one of those annoying people who can engulf unlimited
continents of pizza and ice-cream and still be thin as a rail: we
sampled a pizzeria in Jindrichuv Hradec that upheld the international
standard. On our final night, we had a gourmet meal in Tabor at a
hotel-restaurant that had just opened and that Briand wanted to sample.
In addition to its being very good and wonderfully festive, it was
beautifully and tastefully decorated. The owner, a very interesting man,
was a Czech-Briton who had been a university geologist and
palaeontologist in his previous life in the UK – another case of No
Going Back. He came and chatted to us as we dined, conscientious to meet
his customers and know their preferences.
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/efroselli/detail?.dir=16b9re2&.dnm=892are2.jpg
Another point of note: I must mention the extraordinary bathrooms in the
Czech Republic! There was not a single pissing point on this whole trip,
no matter how isolated or rural, that was not squeaky clean, spacious,
luxuriously tiled, amply provided with toilet paper and washup
facilities, and looking like it had just been installed last week. You
might think it scatological to devote a paragraph to this, but
inaccessible or unuseably skanky bathrooms are one of my most
longstanding anxieties as a traveller, especially as a fat, incontinent
cyclist with allergies causing explosive sneezes and coughs - a phobia
continually justified and fed by bathrooms in France, alas.
As a further general aside, I would avert travellers to Czech Republic
of Killer Cobblestones in almost all the ancient towns. I am especially
bad on cobblestones because my faulty balance cannot handle them. The
most lasting sensory impression I came back with is not of cycling but
of sore feet! I do not know if there is a pair of shoes that can be
designed to mitigate the problem for me, but be warned to take
super-insoled special arch-supported cobble-buster shoes with at least
an inch of isolating rubber if you plan ever to get off your bikes!
I was also enchanted with the bike care. First Light provides top-end
Cannondales as part of its package, and the ones I saw looked new and
gorgeous, impeccably maintained. However, having been very unhappy last
year with the rented bikes on my Netherlands trip, I preferred to take
my beloved Flyzipper. At the entrance to Trebon, Flyzipper repeated his
mysterious stunt of blowing his front inner tube, for no apparent
reason, while at a standstill. Simon not only changed the tube but let
me watch, sought the possible cause of the flat, tested Flyzipper and
offered his knowledge throughout. It is the first time I have been able
to have a general assessment of Fly from an expert with such a thorough
comparative knowledge of bikes. And I learned a lot also, from watching
the cleaning and lubrification of the bikes at the end of the trip. It
is relaxing to be with people minding bikes – I suspect bikes, like
horses or dolphins, have a euphorizing effect on the nerves.
So in short, a 5-star holiday which I would recommend to any non-puritan
whose love of bikes is not inconsistent with a love of comfort and good
living.
EFR
Ile de France
