Oxford—Istanbul
2025
Oxford, 16 Jun 25
On 26 June 2025 we will get back on our bikes, 24 years after our last big ride together. Here is why.
The broad plan is:
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Note: Every now and then I go off on a tangent. To make the page more scrollable, I collapse these sections like so:
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You can hide this waffle by clicking the heading again. Thanks for reading!
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Clare College, Cambridge, 26 June 2025
A fair wind helps me along the first 150km (only 4850ish to go).
There is a rather nice mutual agreement between Clare College Cambridge and Oriel College Oxford. They are sibling colleges and both turn 700 in 2026. Part of the sisterliness is that fellows from one can stay at the other.
Old Hunstanton, 27 June 2025
When Ali and I set off on our round the world bike ride, we managed to leave the tent behind on day 1. This time I leave my hat and - crucially - my reading glasses at Simon’s. He puts them out, so that I can collect them as I set off today. He also includes a portion of last nights dinner, which sorts lunch for today - thank you, Simon!
If you ever need to go from Cambridge to Ely, avoid the A10. It lures me with fabulous cycle path, which then just mysteriously disappear and one is left with heavy traffic. Not just cars, but the new form of cars: SUVs and, as if SUVs weren’t ridiculous enough for people who don’t own a single ‘sports utility’, they now have an even bigger offspring: the pick-up truck. These are principally used to pick up a latte from the Costa drive through. But hey, 2 tonnes of vehicle is what some people need for that. Sorry, I digress. From Ely onwards there is far less A10, and instead delightful villages with great bakeries and coffee shops (yes, you can pick up a flat white with a bike).
Old Hunstanton, 28 June 2025
Norfolk with Rob, Steve and Andy
This is an annual get-together, courtesey of Rob Horner, who somehow manages to coordinate us random lot to come every year from various corners of the country to various corners of the country and cycle, walk and chat. It is always a fabulously fun weekend. When I hear that this year would coincide roughly with my departure and happen to be in Norfolk, we simply put the two together. Norfolk is nearly on the way to Istanbul after all.
Rob booked us into a lovely Barn on the edge of Hunstanton Hall. Trouble is, there are quite a few nice building surrounding this Hall and I don’t know which one. So I just set up my camping chair and wait in the sun. A car with a family rolls up and I ask, if this might be the building we stay in for the weekend. In the most polite British manor they point out to me that this is their home, and no, this would not be where we are staying, but would I like a cup of tea? What could be a greater gesture of looking after your fellow human (after a long bike ride in particular) than a cup of tea. It speaks ‘you are among friends’ like little else. After tea and a friendly chat with Dave about cycling and the virtues of steel frames and try another building. One clue would be the presence of a key safe, and I find one behind a little wooden gate leading into a picturesque
Part 2 - with Max from Harwich to Küsnacht
Ely to Harwich, 29 June 2025
In Harwich Max is joining me. He had to stay behind for a very important gig on Friday and takes the train to Harwich with Ali’s bike on board.
Day 5
Hook of Holland to Antwerp, 29 June 2025
On the ferry we meet some other cyclists, including Jack the tennis instructor from Edinburgh who is heading for Eindhoven. We tuck in behind him on hid tri bars and that makes the first 50km rather swift. That is good, because there is a bit of a headwind. When we reach the first ferry we have to wait quite a while for it. Just when we are about to cross some of the others from the Harwich ferry catch up with us. It feels decidedly like “Race across the world”, even though we have totally different destinations and motivations (and really are in no rush at all).
Jack is lovely company and happy to keep the speed manageable for us. When we part, the average speed does definitely drop.
Turns out most food places are shut on a Monday. Just when we thought there would be no food for miles, in the middle of nowhere, a “cherry cafe” appears as if by magic. The sell the most juicy cherries, smoothies, coffee and cake - heaven.
Before we know it, we are within striking distance of Antwerp and all plans to find a camp site are out of the window. It is 36 degrees now and an air conditioned room does seem less like a luxury, but a necessity.
Ghent, 1 July 2025
The main reason we opted for a hotel was the air-conditioning. Even in the night temperatures didn’t drop below 24°C. Unfortunately the air conditioning didn’t work. All the more reason for a cracking breakfast. Not the overpriced hotel variety, but the joy of supermarket self sufficiency. Yogourt, berries, crossaints, oats – a true feast.
We take it deliberately easy today. It is too hot for big miles. First we amble through Antwerp, discover parks and lakes, stop for a coffee in a market square. All very leasurely.
The route to Ghent is only 60km and mostly along a railway line. Not the most exciting, but still varied enough not to get boring. 15km from Ghent we catch up with a group of about 20 scouts on their way to Brugge and on to nothern France for two weeks of camping. They are cheerful and we can draft behind them for some easy miles.
Ghent is super pretty and busseling with tourists. We part the bikes in one of these underground bike garages under a bridge and explore by foot. Waffles, ice-cream, beer - all is good when it is this hot.
The camp site in Ghent is right next to the rowing lake and also has a swimming beach. If that wasn’t perfect enough, they fire up a pizza oven in the evening. Bliss!
Bruge, 2 July 2025
Since setting off I have slept in a college, a barn, an overnight ferry, a budget hotel, a tent and now a chapel. Variety is good.
Lille, 3 July 2025
On the way from Lille and just 3km before our camp site we encountered some unexpected and full-on pave. Cobble stones so big and so rounded, one can barely control the steering. Exciting though and not very long.
Felleries, 4 July 2025
We always said that we would be flexible about our plans and here we go. Having spent a great day in Lille with a lot more Tour de France entertainment than we expected, we decide not to wait another two days to see the riders zip past us for 30 seconds on stage one. Instead we cancel our rest day and keep going. Max is keen to touch on Luxembourg, to increase the country count, so we set off broadly south east.
The roads are great and now also a lot quieter. So quiet indeed, the main business in the very quiet towns are funeral businesses. The next most popular are flower shops, but again, mainly for funerals.
Our fellow cyclist of today was Warre, another Belgian scout heading to France to camp. He sets a good pace for us despite his creaking bottom bracket.
Did I say the roads are quiet? That changes in Limont-Fontaine, where a pimped Porsche shoots past us with a roaring engine. Shortly after another rally car screeches past. Turns out these were just little practice bursts for what is to come. We are cycling with increasing numbers of spectators past various road closure signs towards a banner accross the street. Over the past week we must have ignored about a dozen road closure signs. They invariably turn out to be little more than a small hole in the ground, a traffic cone or an unfotunately parked works vehicle and it is easy to cycle around it. This one is different. The officials are adamant that we must not cycle on. This is the start of the race and even the road to the right is a no-no, because it would cross the race course. Seeing one car after another screeching off the start in 20 second intervals, even I must admit, this is not safe and this is the end of the road. Fortunately the detour actually takes us down some lovely roads and the peace and quiet is restored.
A few more people I need to mention from today. When we reach the camp site in Felleries, there is nobody. We just wheel our bikes onto the site and decide to check out that ‘authentic’ looking cafe on the corner. Outside is a pizza vending machine - that’s right, swipe your card and within 3 minutes a pizza arrives through a slot. So we are told. The cafe chef convinces us to go for his Croque instead. When we arrive he is having his head shorn to 2mm by Max, a lovable and slightly drunk local, who takes a shine to us and we converse enthusiastically with little common language. He insists on buing us beer and introduces us to Fabien, his wife (she has a ring, he doesn’t). Amazing how quickly one gets friendly with people here.
The next person I must mention is Jan. Jan is from Dusseldorf in Germany and cycles 300km per day (!!) to get to Paris. Right now he is lying on the grass waiting for his girlfriend to arrive in their VW T5 so that they can eat pasta (presumably a lot). Tomorrow he has only 200km left to reach Paris. What a guy.
Revin, Ardennes, 5 July 2025
We are now into proper hills, which makes cycling so much more interesting (and a bit more work).
The roads are now super quiet. We don’t see cars for miles. A good section of today was on a former train track. Dead straight and level, with super smooth surface. Could have happily stayed on there for a lot longer, but it goes North-East and we need South-East. And hill are more interesting, as I said.
One thing we haven’t yet worked out is the opening times. No cafe displays opening times, just a sign on a string saying ‘Ferme’. When we arrived in the Netherlands, on Monay, we learned that Monday was the day for cafes to be shut. One day later, in southern Netherlands, it is Mondays AND Tuesday. By the time we are in Belgium, the custom has shifted to Wednesday. Now it is Saturday morning, 10:30 and we sit at a table outside another cafe with a ‘Ferme’ sign in a sleepy village (inhabitants at current count: 2 cats). We got used to it by now. An elderly man drives up, sees the sign and drives off again. So does an old woman. They two must still be working out the opeing hours. But no, the woman comes back shortly after, very animated with the key and tells us that “Madame” is on her way. In the meantime, she opens the cafe and sits down with a bag of potatoes, which the man who now returned as well, might peel with her some time later in the day. Now “Madame” arrives and the coffee machine is started. We just had a nice snack and are ready to move on, but it is obvious, this whole turn up was for our benefit and we better order a capuchino. When I see her produce the squirty cream bottle I change my order to an espresso. While I sip that I cannot but admire the relaxed and convivial vibe of this place.
Yesterday we saw the pizza vending machine, today a bread vending machine. I hope the cafes and bakeries can survive. They add so much charm to a place (more that this machine).
In Revin we will take our first rest day (after we cancelled the rest in Lille).
Revin, 6 July 2025% right
Rest day. It rains non stop.
Florenville, Belgium, 7 July 2025
After sitting out a day of non-stop rain in Revin, we are super lucky with the rain today. Despite the forecast, we cycle along the river Meuse in the dry. To get out of Revin we go through a tunnel built for boats with a cycle path on the side. How anyone justified building this tunnel is beyond me. It cuts off a beautiful 2km loop of the river.
When we reach our original destination Douzy, it starts to rain and we find shelter in the church, after the local restaurant tells us that we cannot have drinks only. After sitting out the rain for about an hour, we decide to go further than originally planned and almost get to Florentville in the dry. Almost. On the last 5 km we get drenched, but find a bar with the Tour live on TV.
Another hour later and the rain has stopped, so that we can roll down to a campsite by the river Semois. The receptionist is hilarious. She finds us a last minute deal for a cabin that is cheaper than a tent site. “I don’t make the prices”. Later she gives me a free ice-cream. I think she doesn’t care much for her boss. I love it. And having a cabin was quite helpful. In the morning the most enormous thunder storm hammers down on us. That would not have been fun in a tent.
Nenning, Germany, 8 July 2025
Sometimes Garmin’s popularity map may divide popular opinion. Today Garmin thinks the best way for us to set off is up an unpaved 20% gradient on a muddy and slippery path through the forest. That may have shaved a few hundred meters off our journey and also assisted a fast warm up. Other than that - Garmin, what were you thinking?
The forecast today is for showers, and showers we get. One moment it is glorious sunshine, then a few drops - you now have 60 seconds to find shelter before the heavens open. We manage that reasonably well, with front porches, bus shelters and the marquees of cafes (obviously closed - it is Tuesday after all).
At midday we arrive at another low-key boarder. Luxembourg cannot even the bothered to spell out its name. The sign just says ‘L’ and proceeds to spell out the all important speed restrictions instead.
Luxembourg city is - as I expected - luxurious. We have lunch in a manicured park, wheel our bikes past Rolex, Patek-Philippe and other watch shops, and marvel at the gorge that cuts through the middle of the city to provide and excuse for some exquisite bridges and for Garmin to suggest to go down there and up again - no, thank you - the bridges are just fine.
From here it only takes two hours and we are out of the country, crossing the Mosel into Germany, where the campsite only accepts cash: 22.80. Luckily I somehow still have 22.40 in spare change. “You can put the missing 40 cents in the letterbox when you have been to the cashpoint” - delightful contrast to the day before. Welcome to Germany.
Roth, Germany, 9 July 2025
After 5km along the river Mosel, we hit some juicy hills. Either up or down, no more flat. That takes it pretty much out of us and after 2 hours and not even 40km, we start to look for cafes to have a stop. We tend to judge villages by the size of their church. If the church is big, then there is half a chance they have some sort of shop, and quarter of a chance that it is open. As we turn for a particularly promising church we meet Theresa, who tells us that there is nothing here. She is on a bike from Brussels, heading to Barcelona. She just finished her degree in medical technology, so she is in a similar place to Max, who is celebrating the end of school. Theresa asks if she can draft behind us - ever so polite. That made me thing, I should ask, too, rather than just thanking people after sitting on their (often e-) wheel.
Our search for a cafe turns into another 5 hours cycling with Theresa all the way to Sarreguemines station (yes, Theresa treats herself to the odd train, but she is lovely, so that is allowed). We finally get our drink stop at a bar. After 100km instead of coffee it becomes beer. I think that is fair.
The curious incident of the boy on the carriageway
There was one episode from today that is a bit disconcerting. We cycle on a path along a busy multi-lane road. A boy of about 8 years ambles along the road and almost gets in the way of an oncoming cyclist, who shakes her head scornfully. I think ‘what a stupid boy’. He walks way to close to the road. As we pass him I tell him to stay clear of the road, in German, Max tells him again, in English, and Theresa completes to local language set with French. He doesn’t respond to any of us and keeps walking in a peculiar way. We stop. Max says that boy is not OK. But what can we do? Call the police. This is Germany, calling the police is exactly what people do when something isn’t right. I said it as a joke at first, but Max was serious. He walks past us, completely unresponsive and keeps stepping on the curb of a busy four lane road. I do call the police. They pick up immediately and after I describe the boys behaviour and give our location, I see him walking right into the road and get back on my bike to stop him. The police on the phone tell me they have a car in the area and at that very moment I see blue lights coming on in front of me and a police car turning around to secure the boy. Response time: seconds. Amazing and fortuitous. The boy is having some serious difficulties and the two officers are take care of him in a way that looks very reassuring. Only thanks to Max’s instant understanding that this boy was suffering some serious mental condition, did we take action. My initial reaction was “well, there is nothing we can do”. Wrong. There was, and thank goodness we did.
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Lock 26 Canal de la Mame au Rhin, 10 July 2025
Just a lovely day of cycling. The sun is back, temperatures are up, and the cycle paths are as perfect as ever, if not better. We now keep overlapping with EuroVelo 5, a designated cycle route. In some places we have entire roads entirely dedicated to cyclists. In spite of this great offering the first 30km is not just car free, but pretty much cyclist free, too. Max and I keep placing little bets: how many cyclist will we meet in the next 5km? I say 3, he says 2. Max wins: none. Next, how many km until we see the first cyclist? I say 5, Max 7km. After just over 5km a cyclist is bemused how pleased I am to see him.
The second part of the day takes us mostly along canals. Normally I find that boring after a while, but this is varied and exciting. The path along the canal takes us across massive lakes on either side, with the canal being a good 50m elevated. Amazing engineering.
In a cafe we meet four Germans from Hamburg, who a cycling in very relaxed fashion. Few kilometres, many beers. A fun group.
Our camp spot is a bit of a treat today. A patch of grass on the corner of a lock gives us the sound of flowing water and every now and then a boat going through. Surrounded by steep forested banks and bathing in sunshine. Life is good.
St Piere, 11 July 2025
Münstertal, Schwarzwald, 12 July 2025
Who lives in Merdingen?
Today’s route changed a few times, thanks to suggestions from my mother. My parents are huge fans of the Schwarzwald, and the Kaiserstuhl in particular - for wine related reasons. I can therefore not be accused of having forced Merdingen on the map and when we cross the town sign, I am not sure myself why this place name is so familiar. Then it clicks. For some inexplicable reason, the commentators of the Tour de France always desperately try to come up with alternative names to avoid too much duplication. So they often talk about the ‘Merdinger’, when what they meant was my fallen idol Jan Ulrich. That goes back to the last millennium, when he won the tour and battled (on fairer terms than we had hoped) with Lance Armstrong for years. Since then, a tragic fall and shenanigans while living on Majorca.
In our desperate search for anything that is open to eat or drink in Merdingen, we get talking to a lovely woman. She calls her son over, who speaks native English. Turns out, she met a man in Norfolk and her son now lives in equal parts in Norfolk, Berlin and mighty Merdingen, where, indeed, no bars, shops or other eateries are open on a Saturday. But Jan is back, they tell us. After his turbulent time on Majorca, he settled down in his home town again and teaches kid to ride race bikes. And you sometimes see him at the local Rewe supermarket. You have a Rewe. “Ah, yes, just 2km that way”. We are saved. Rewe is open and sells everything. It even has a roast chicken van. We order “Einmal zwei halbe Hahn” and sit outside the supermarket in the hope that Jan might walk past. He doesn’t. Still, Merdingen turned out to be more of an experience that I expected.
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Frick, Switzerland, 13 July 2025
Küsnacht, Switzerland, 14 July 2025
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