Tœurope: August 2010

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Following the Seine, with friend, 'til the end...

Day 38, km 1,860

Here's a little something for you to munch on. Okay. So, if the seeds of the various plant matter that grew millions of years ago and that got compacted underground and fossilized into one gallon of gasoline were instead the seeds of wheats and beets and other treats that we could eat and turn into man power, then we could pedal our way upwards of 900 km on just that little bit (N.Y. to D.C. and back and then halfway back to D.C.). That is, if the 38 million calories of energy stored in one gallon of gasoline were consumed food-ways and directly converted into motionpower, we could use it to travel more than 20 times further than it would have brought a car as gasoline. Is that crazy?

Meanwhile, we have found ourselves in Poses a small town in Normandy, a bit south of Rouen. We decided to pass up several other towns such as "tornadoes on the seine" and "port death", but we find it nice here. We left Paris on Monday afternoon and plan to be in England by Friday night. The French countryside is spectacular. I've found that the most beautiful and quaint villages are the ones that are accessible by no major roads and which are sometimes not even on the map. It is there that you'll find sons taking their elderly parents for walks down the silent streets, or catch a glimpse of an old women setting a table in the dining room of a half timbered house against the backdrop of that classic blue and white provincial wallpaper. It's there that the houses don't stand quite straight and the only noises loud enough to obscure the sound of hushed conversations or a woman closing the shutters as the sky grows dark is the low clanging of the church bells, for no French town is complete without it's stone church. Its in these towns that I feel like I'm beginning to see the real France. The historically famous spots of the world are quickly becoming nothing more than tourist destinations. They lose their essential charm, or brilliance, or wonder. And while I appreciate it in a way as an advancement (the way I "appreciate" how target has brought oversized clocks to the lower and middle classes), I also mourn the loss of their enchantment. So, if you get a chance, go and see the places that your tour book forgot.

Well, it is getting late and we must get our one pot dinner a'cookin. For my sake would you have a seat on your couch, hug a pillow, roast some local poultry, watch the rain from a window, sit by the fire, appreciate your motors and lights, hide under your comforter, try a new recipe and/or invite friends over?

Thanks.

N

(Pictured above: the bridge at Monet's gardens in Giverny; the mighty Seine; a beautiful Chateau we happened upon with a huge and fabulously diverse veggie and fruit garden; pre-Paris, the rainbow which preceeded a good 40+ hours of rain)

Friday, August 20, 2010

I louvre Paris.

Props to my dad on that. Anyway, as Nate dozes off after an eventful evening, thought I'd share some of Paris with you curious readers.

First off, sleeping in a bed=heaven. I will never take you for granted again oh sacred box spring. It is also really great wandering around Paris-a city Nate spent 4 months and I spent 5 days in. We know the touristy things already and don't feel that gnawing pressure to have seen it all. Instead we are just eating,walking,cycling,park-ing our way about town. We have been eating some great falafel and lebanese food since the Marais is the jewish quarter. But I must say, the best food in France is by far the bread, the cheese, and the butter-simple things really. I love waking up and prancing off to get my morning baguette down the street, smiling at the boulanger as I proudly flaunt the french phrase I have mastered, "Une baguette s'il vous plait!"

Yesterday we rode down canal st. Martin through the cute neighborhood to Boulangerie Veronique-supposedly the best bakery in Paris. Tucked in the 19th quarter, this place is small but has a wood fire oven in plain view (one of 4 bakeries in france with that kind of stove). Not to mention all organic ingredients and yeast that she starts herself. We enjoyed our baked goods at the nearby parc de butte chaumont which has a great view of the city. After this picnic feast we ambitiously rode our bikes (carried up stairs really) to Sacre Coeur.. That beautiful church that is very elevated and has an astonishing view of Paris.

We've been moonlight museuming at the D'orsay and Louvre so as to get a discount and less crowded viewing. This has allowed us to see some nice parts of paris at night too, and they really know how to light things up. The Eiffel tower flashes with lights one the hour for 5 mins, and the louvre area looks beautiful with the pyramid and feris wheel in back. And the Seine, oh the Seine! Lovely walks along its banks at night revealed that it is very popular to picnic there at night (every meter!).

Other fun things - morning markets, cycling round town, luxembourg gardens, and a lazy afternoon at Paris beach (they make the bank of the Seine like a beach in August)

Oh, and we even got to see them disassemble it tonight-a highlight for sure ;)

More pictures to come when we get to an internet café..

L

(pictured: Lucy and notre dame, Nate with eiffel, free back massages on rue moufftard, picnics, nightime louvre)

Monday, August 16, 2010

Welp, we made it.

Rode the whole way into Paris and look where we ended up!

Saturday, August 14, 2010

On the road, literally and figuratively.

On the road, literally and figuratively.

Today is a new day. We have been riding through northern France for the past week and it has been so many things. I've realized that life on the road, both literally and figuratively, has its peaks and valleys... Blissful moments and times where you must push yourself to get over the hill to see the landscape behind it.

France has been quite different for us because we have been physically riding on the road here rather than on backroads or cycle paths.We now ride next to the cars (not cows) on the narrow country roads. I've had bugs fly into my eyes, nose, ears, mouth on several occasions. We've popped more roadside squats then I ever thought possible (for those of you who know Europe, you know how uncommon the WC is). We've ridden on some amazingly smooth surfaces, as well as rough gravel and sandy ones too. There has been every type of roadkill, but also some people selling homemade cheese and mussels. We have learned to take everything for what it is.

I've realized that being on the road, in a more figurative sense, means learning to find comfort in uncomfortable and unsure situations. I haven't been in the same place for more than 2 weeks since October, and we haven't slept in beds in a month. These were all choices, but if I couldn't learn to habituate to constant change I think I would go crazy. Sometimes I wonder what I will feel when I live somewhere after this year of travel. Will I be ansy or welcome the calm security. I guess I will find out. For now, I am enjoying the flux as much as I can. Meeting new people everyday, saying goodbye to people with ease, setting up our 'house' wherever we land, and not clinging to anything except the idea that everything is ephemeral. In the end, I think I am more flexible but also appreciative for all the stable people in my life.

In terms of the landscape here, there are way more hills and valleys than the Netherlands (duh). With this landscape comes hard cycling followed by blissful breezes as you soar at 30mph down into a georgous valley.

While on these winding roads, we have had our fair share of mishaps ranging from campsites to cycle routes. Our first few days in France on LF1 were long but we didn't seem to be getting too far. Turns out, the route avoids major roads at all costs. Beautiful scenery for sure. Campsites, ahhh campsites. The first one we went to, we left because he showed us to a patch of dirt behind a bunch of motorhomes that was less appetizing than camping in a field on the side of the road. The next two, however, were some of our favorites. They were small and on farms with horses/chickens/pigs/ and fresh milk! When we reached the coast, though, we cycled our hearts out trying to find a site that was not 'complet' or full... 73 miles that day.

We also, however, have had some really warm welcomes back to France that majorly offset the mishaps. For example, there have been countless thumbs up, honks in approval, and general helpfulness. A woman with her baby walking by said to him, "quel courage" about us as we rode by. The epic 73 mile day we had included receptionists that gave us directions to other sites along with helpful strangers on the street even attempting english to help us find our way. One man even stopped his car, got out, and was making sure we got on our way. And here is one that really made our day: as we slumped our stuff down at our succesful campsite , we must have looked really pathetic because our neighbors came over with meat shish kebabs and gave them to us. It was then that I nearly broke down from the day.. Out of appreciation for the goodness in people, not the exhaustion from bad circumstances and timing.

Like I said in the beginning, today is a new day. We will be in Paris by Monday and are surely looking forward to it. All of the ups and downs are just part of the ride we are on, and if you expect to ride only downhill, you're in for some hills ahead. (sorry for the cheesy metaphor)

L

Monday, August 9, 2010

Following the elephant.

Day 22, km 1169

It is monday morning in Esquelbecq, France. Yesterday we crossed the broder from Belgium after another 80 km along the north sea cycle route, a 470k route that extends from Texel, Holland to Boulogne sur Mer, France. (We were finally stopped at the broder but only by this snail (pictured above) as he was crossing the path.) We picked up this endless cycle route up at texel at the north of holland and have been following it since. We have decided not to inform the french that we are following LF1 (the name of the route) for fears that they might confuse "LF un" with "elephant" and think that we've been following an elephant through 400km of dutch and belgian countryside. We must get off on the right foot.
So, alas, we are in the land of baguettes, red wine, and phallic monuments. (fun fact: did you know that just like the movies everyone here speaks english to eachother, but with a french accent?) we are staying at "camping du roses" a beautiful and friendly campsite tucked away at the end of 90km stretch from the next closest campsite. Recommended viewing re: cycling in france: "the triplets of belleville".
Though all has been smooth. The bikes have held up with daily tunings, our bones and muscles are standing their ground. (another fun fact: the sorest parts of our bodies? Often the upper back near the neck or right near the kidney. Legs have been feeling good!) the weather, too has been favorable with only bouts of rain and little wind. Yesterday we were coasting at 22-25 km/h (as opposed to the usual 15-17), only later to realize that it was partially because, at last, the wind was at our backs!
So we plan to arrive in paris one week from today to a lovely week at a small appartment in the marais district. (for those of you hooked on babelfish, it is no longer a marsh - its mostly cobblestone and building) We plan to get some R and R (reblachon and red wine) and take in some of the wonders that paris offers. If you have suggestions as to what to visit/see/eat/climb please do pass them along. How we will get to paris? Still a mystery. But get there, we will.
Yesterday we had a glorious find along the track; a patch of 8 or so "giant puffball" mushrooms (pictures to come). These mushrooms look like small white soccerballs (one was about 10" in diameter). We were going to grab one for dinner, but we decided that there was too much barbed wire and electric fence.

So on into country 4 of 7 we go. The elephant has awoken and is packing his things. We should probably get ready.

N

Friday, August 6, 2010

Small fries and toe gangs: Reflections on this Netherland.

It is our last night in the Netherlands, and I am sad to go. I have enjoyed the last 2 weeks here immensely . The people, we have found, have a fearless gregariousness about them that is inspiring (i.e. We faced our tent outward on our last night here on a sheep farm/mini camping). They generally seem to know what's goin on: Windmills, logically mapped bike routes throughout the entire country, and amazing pancakes that begin by sauteeing the consistuents and then adding the batter (yummm). As we both have mentioned, the weather here has been a large part of our lives, and it has been interesting, to say the least, observing it 24/7. Beautiful open skies with billowy wonderous clouds that play a constant game of shrouding and revealing the sun. Other times, however, the only thing revealed is wind, rain, and a chill- in every combination. Let's just say it's a love/hate relationship.

We have been observing other parts of life here and for starters, the camprounds. It seems people spend weeks/months at them and there are always fun things around to entertain the kiddies while the parents kick back. We played the role of the funny Americans on bikes, just passing through giving the "local" campsite people something new to whisper and wonder about.
We also noticed that nearly everyone in this small flat country rides a bike. They range from 3 to 80, parents carrying their kids in creative ways, infants sleeping in the 'drivers' seat, tandems, small kids on unicycles, elderly couples out for afternoon rides, and people with their handicapped loved ones-doing the pedaling but making that person a part of the culture. This biking phenomenon has been perplexing me for the last two weeks. It is curious that ones willingness to try something or believe they can do it is culturally determined. Or at least determined by the norms set and carried out by a culture. I think this is interesting because we always think our reasons are so personal, especially in our western culture. In America, it is as if biking isn't cool until you're over 20 and people think its rediculous to do if you're over 60. I just wonder if it became part of our lives more, would people suddenly believe that they could do a 2 month tour as well? I hope both of these things occur one day. We have quite often seen entire families touring for weeks with infants and teens (carrying quite a load I might add).

On a lighter note, we've also noticed some funny things about the Netherlands. For one, words like 'patat klein' (small fry) and 'forboden toegang' have become part of our vocabulary. The first because we have been eating them as treats, the second because we see signs for it all the time and still have not a clue. Secondly, at all the campsites there are goofily dressed teens leading tots in silly dances to tennybopper american music. We figured this out yesterday after talking to the teens doing it- they have large entertainent companies that train them and send them to campsites to perform- similar to our idea of a camp counselor summer job I suppose. Thirdly, they don't drink dark beer (to our dismay). Evidence of this: going into a bar with 200 beers and the tender telling us that they don't have/like dark beer... The lighter/spicier the better. And finally, EVERYONE speaks flawless english.

It has been really great realizing that we are carrying and manpowering our tranportation, food, water, shelter... All the while not really using electricity, getting a workout, and seeing Europe up close and personal. I hadn't realized how green this adventure would be. I also have never been more convinced that activity gives you way more energy than passivity (or we sometimes justify it as relaxing).

And finally, I've gained an entirely new appreciation for farm/wild aminals. As Nate mentioned, we have been talking to them when we are out in the country, and there are some amazing moments I must share.
1. The sight of two horses cleaning each others necks, looks like they are nuzzling in such a human way.
2. Watching a mama and duckling cross the path one by one into the next canal and seeing that there was one ugly duckling!
3. Sheepies bending down and resting on their elbows in order to graze more comfortably.
4. The melodic pigeon call finding its way into our intonation and hums.
5. A huge seagull hanging outside our tent and snatching a loaf of bread as I got into the tent. (this reaffirms my view of those sneaky creatures)
6. A momma duck acting like a shaperone with her 3 babies at a campsite, monitering how close they get to strangers.
7. A group of very unique looking cows, the misfits I think.

Well, let's see what Belgium has to offer.
L