Spain to Norway on a Bike Called Reggie

by Andrew P. Sykes

  I was joined by my new friends Hans and Veronika. The tents were erected outside the gates of the carpark – at last, a night of wild camping – and together we celebrated our arrival with peach schnapps.

  As midnight approached, the clouds still covered the sky. The crowd started to thin but then, as the sun edged towards the horizon, as the clocks struck 12 and as we all held our breath, the bright orange globe in the sky broke through to reveal what we'd all come here to witness: the magical midnight sun. I couldn't have wished for a more fitting finale for a cycle from Tarifa in Spain to Nordkapp in Norway, across 35 degrees of Europe.

  EPILOGUE

  28 July–8 August

  On previous European trips, I had bundled up poor Reggie, stuffed him into a box or wrapped him in cling film at the airport and flown back to Britain. Not so this time.

  Even before I could board the MS Lofoten at Honningsvåg on Thursday morning, I needed to cycle back to the town. I did so with my brakes wearing thin and my enthusiasm for cycling dented somewhat by having just arrived and celebrated the end of a long, long journey. Much more for mental reasons than physical ones, the return trip to Honningsvåg was an arduous one.

  Hans invited me for dinner in town that evening and, along with Veronika, we enjoyed a wonderful celebratory feast of seafood by the harbour. It was a nice way to start my reintegration back into polite society. Although my preference had always been to travel alone on the trip to Nordkapp, the two Germans – father and daughter – had made those final two weeks of the trip so much more enjoyable. We shook hands and embraced; the following morning they had to cycle back to Alta, and I had a rendezvous with a ship.

  The MS Lofoten was an adventure in itself. Built in 1964, she could only accommodate a maximum of 140 people in her berths, although as we cruised from port to port, locals joined and left the ship without staying overnight. There was something of Agatha Christie's Death on the Nile about the experience: intriguing characters of differing nationalities and diverse social standings mingling together on the two decks. Just no dead bodies.

  When the ship docked for a two-hour pause in Hammerfest, I disembarked and went to explore. At the Museum of Reconstruction for Finnmark and North-Troms I was to discover why the towns through which I had cycled were often lacking when it came to historical charm. The area was considered to be of strategic importance by the Nazis and of all the regions in Norway, Finnmark and North-Troms hosted the most German soldiers. As a consequence, many towns were heavily bombed by the Allies. In the later stages of the conflict, much of what remained was razed to the ground by retreating German troops on the direct orders of Hitler. An aerial photograph of Hammerfest taken in 1946 showed a town only recognisable by the streets separating the bare patches of land. In Honningsvåg the only remaining building had been the church. At the end of the war, the population, which included 75,000 refugees in their own country, was left to pick up the pieces. Bearing all this in mind, they had done a remarkable job since.

  —

  Back on the ship, an email had arrived from Sanne, the journalist from Sortland; the article had appeared in the newspaper and gone live online. She had sent me the link to the story. The headline, beside the photograph of Reggie and the drab buildings that I had posted on Twitter, read:

  Engelsk forfatter slakter Blåbyen

  I ran it through an online translator: 'English writer butchers the blue city'. Oh dear…

  The article, however, was a fair reflection of what I had said to Sanne in our interview. In the coming days several hundred comments were posted on Facebook, debating whether I was right or wrong in my opinions. 'Sortland has become a ghost town,' wrote one local. 'He has just put into words what many of us think about Sortland,' remarked another.

  Others weren't so happy. A follow-up article focussed on the thoughts of a prestigious architect who had once lived in Sortland. She disagreed with my general sentiment, although admitted that the port area needed sprucing up. Another article by a high-profile journalist argued that 'Sortland is not ugly. It is rough around the edges… If I had met Sykes, I'd have told him to give it more time'. And finally, two college students, Petter and Kim, had been out onto the streets of Sortland to debate the issue and had produced a short documentary with their findings. In reference to my tweet, their film had been given the title "Uninspiring".

  Things may, however, be moving forward. Sortland is known as 'the blue city' by locals because of a project instigated by an artist called Bjørn Elvenes. Following criticism of the town by Lonely Planet and Rough Guides in the 1990s, he took on the mission of sprucing things up by painting 17 blocks of the town centre in different shades of blue. He chose the colour as a symbol of Sortland's maritime links. By posting my comments on Twitter, I was clearly hitting a raw nerve. However, shortly after my interview appeared in the Sortlands Avisa, it was reported by the newspaper that, as a result of 'vigorous debate in recent weeks about whether Sortland centre is inviting or not', Bjørn was keen to complete his unfinished project. 'It is now time that something happened again,' he was quoted as saying, adding, 'Only a quarter of the buildings in my plan were ever painted blue.'

  To anyone in Sortland I might have offended, I apologise. I'd like to think that, by prompting a little discussion, some good might have come out of that one, simple tweet. One day I will return to Sortland for a better, longer look. I'm sure I will be surprised, especially if Bjørn has been busy again with his brush.

  —

  The MS Lofoten docked in Bergen the following Monday afternoon. I stayed overnight in the city before catching a ferry to Hirtshals, in Denmark. Following a somewhat convoluted train-hopping journey down the length of Jutland, I returned to Hamburg to pay a second visit to my friends Dominic, Annet and their children. More beer was consumed before I caught a succession of trains through Germany and the Netherlands in the direction of the coast. There I discovered that 'Rotterdam' as defined by P&O Ferries differed by some 20 km from my definition of Rotterdam so it was back on Reggie for a short, flat trip along the river to where the overnight ferry to Hull was waiting beside the dock.

  A total of 164 days after having touched down in Malaga, Spain, I arrived back in Britain to build a new life in my home county of Yorkshire. As one adventure finished, another was about to begin.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  As with all long journeys, this cycle from Tarifa to Nordkapp was made not just pleasurable but memorable because of the many people I had the opportunity of meeting as I travelled. Alas there are far too many to list here but I would particularly like to thank those mentioned below.

  My Uncle Ronald and his wife Beatrice who not only provided me with a base in southern Spain immediately prior to setting off on the trip but also somewhere to store Reggie whilst I was studying in Cádiz.

  The friends I had the opportunity of meeting up with along the way; Liz near Tours, my former colleagues Kerrie, David and Sarah (and the students of Gillotts School in Henley-on-Thames) who I met in Paris; Janina in Cologne and especially Dominic, Annet, Leni and Nick in Hamburg who had me knocking on their door not once but twice.

  The online friends – many via WarmShowers – who, although we had never met before, were kind enough to offer a bed for the night; Juan in Palencia, Chris and Audrey in La Rochelle, Kevin and Cheryl near Brussels, Andrea and Matthias in Düsseldorf, Dirk and Anita in Münster, Franziska and Klaus in Flensburg and Steve, Anita and Annie in Trondheim.

  Thanks also to Dirk from Hannover for introducing me to life as a pilgrim in Spain, fellow cyclist Javier from Argentina and to Peter and Linda for their advice and good conversation in Burgos.

  The biggest thanks must, however, go to Hans and Veronika from Munich with whom I had the pleasure of sharing many evenings during the final two weeks of the journey. Their unwavering cheeriness was infectious and kept a smile on my face as we neared the northern end of the continent.

  Reggie would like to thank Roman of Yep Bikes in San Pedro (Spain)
, Christophe and François of Fun Bike in Maubuisson (France), Patrice of VéloSpot in Saumur (France), the quiet, unnamed mechanic at Détours de Loire in Tours (France), Wilhelm of Hü4 in Hamburg (Germany), the mechanics at Fri Bikeshop in Stege (Denmark) and Petter of Sykkelsporten in Sarpsborg (Norway) for keeping him on the road. (And so would I.)

  Finally, to all the wonderfully supportive and helpful people at Summersdale who have allowed me to bring this story to the page. Thanks to Debbie for having the courage to sign me up, the unflappably positive Claire who has flawlessly co-ordinated the publishing process, to Jen for her honest and thorough edit and to Daniela for her forensic checking of the manuscript. Please blame the author for any errors that remain.

  Photos: 1. Reggie the bike / 2. Conil de la Frontera, Spain / 3. Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, France / 4. Couture-sur-Loir, France / 5. Binche, Belgium / 6. Redalen, Norway / 7. Folldal, Norway / 8. Schleswig-Holstein, Germany / 9. Benavente, Spain / 10. Kruså, Denmark / 11. Castrojeriz, Spain / 12. Halland, Sweden / 13. Ramberg, Norway / 14. Redalen, Norway

  KAPP TO CAPE: NEVER LOOK BACK

  Race to the End of the Earth

  Reza Pakravan with Charlie Carroll

  ISBN: 978 1 78372 100 0 (ePub), 978 1 78372 101 7 (Mobi)

  Steve and I clutched hands – his right in my left – and then we simultaneously pushed down with our feet. Cogs clicked, wheels turned, and we were on our way. We left Nordkapp within minutes. Cape Town was only 18,000 kilometres away.

  Deciding to break away from his comfortable lifestyle in London, Reza and his friend Steven set off from the most northerly point on mainland Europe to cycle the 11,000 miles to the other end of the planet, completely unsupported.

  Their expedition becomes a race against the clock, as they attempt to complete the trip in a world record of just 100 days. Battling punishing terrain and primitive roads, harsh and debilitating climates, malaria, food poisoning and heat stroke, their thrilling journey brings them face to face with some of the world's most stunning, memorable and volatile regions.

  This is the intensely personal story of one man's mission to create a more positive, purposeful life, and the compelling account of the epic journey he took to get there.

  THE ROAD HEADED WEST

  A Cycling Adventure Through North America

  Leon McCarron

  ISBN: 978 0 85765 715 2 (ePub), 978 0 85765 714 5 (Mobi)

  It seemed a terrible shame to meet my end in Iowa; I couldn't imagine anywhere more disappointing to die. If I were a betting man I'd have reckoned on the most dangerous thing in this state being sheer boredom. The scenery hadn't changed for weeks and I was slowly dissolving into stimulation-deprived madness. My current predicament, then – attempting to escape through cornfields from a gun-toting alcohol-soaked rancher – was not something I expected.

  Just months after graduating from university, Leon received disastrous news: he had been offered a job. Terrified at the prospect of a life spent behind a desk, without challenge or adventure, he took off to cross America on an overloaded bicycle packed with everything but common sense. Over five months and 6,000 miles, Leon cycled from New York to Seattle and then on to the Mexican border, facing tornadoes, swollen river crossings and one hungry black bear along the way. But he also met kind strangers who offered their food, wisdom, hospitality and even the occasional local history lesson, and learned what happens when you take a chance and follow the scent of adventure.

  MUD, SWEAT AND GEARS

  Cycling from Land's End to John O'Groats (Via the Pub)

  Ellie Bennett

  ISBN: 978 0 85765 577 6 (ePub), 978 0 85765 607 0 (Mobi)

  As Ellie's fiftieth birthday approaches and her ambitions of a steady income, a successful career and an ascent of Everest seem as far away as ever, she begins to doubt she's capable of achieving anything at all. So when her best friend Mick suggests a gruelling cycle ride from Land's End to John o'Groats, she takes up the challenge. They opt for the scenic route which takes them along cycle paths, towpaths and the back roads and byways of Britain, unable to resist sampling local beers in the pubs they pass along the way. But as the pints start to stack up faster than the miles they're putting under their tyres, Ellie wonders if they'll ever make it to the finishing line…

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