Tour De Europe - Days 9 - 11

We woke up to enjoy the regularly superior croissants we were now used to having for breakfast. Indeed, I was worried weather I would ever again be able to cope without chocolate spread. There's one thing I really liked about Germany, no stupid 0% fat 0% sugar junk. Just good ol' fatty food. Yoghurts especially put our Finnish diet foods to shame.

Back in Montreux, we were again itching to move on, and so we sped off from another beautiful city. The ride to the French border once again featured unique scenery. In fact, all of the scenery we saw was completely different in feel. Every forest was different to each other, no mountainous valley the same. Very near the border we rode to a large inn by a river in the forest, where using a system of archaic sign language and primitive sounds, we were able to order a whopping great sandwich from the French speaking natives.

It was really quite an idyllic little place, with an old dog, a younger dog, and a cat milling around and lounging in the sun amidst the people sitting outside at the tables. The owner of the house came to talk to us, luckily using English, and it turned out that he too had visited Finland! It was incredibly relaxing to enjoy the surroundings and watch the cats and dogs play with each other and beg for food from the guests.

Well fed and content, we rode a short way to the border and crossed it with once again only a sign to bid us welcome into yet another country, this time France. The difference between the various countries was far greater than you would expect. France felt surprisingly French, and all the villages and countryside we rode through felt completely different to any places we had been before. They weren't just variations of German villages, but had a complete feel of their own.


Me getting slightly annoyed that I always have to be in the picture -_- Whole village looked a bit like Disneyland to be honest.


That's better.

Although we considered staying the night in France, I thought it would be nice to return to Germany, which actually felt like home after all the other countries we had been to. We decided to return to the scenic black forest, this time riding high up on the hills.

Our once again randomly picked destination, Schapbach, turned out to be quite a charming German village, built along a river running through a valley in the black forest. We found a pleasant guest house for the night and treated ourselves to some schnitzels. The following morning our gracious hosts gave us (my dad) the resources required for us (my dad) to wash the bike.

We bid farewell to our gracious hosts and made our way back to Wiesbaden, where we were to spend the evening and the next day with our relatives. Despite the lack of constantly changing scenery, It was great wandering around the city, buying soft Weathers toffees (which I had been deprived of since England) and enjoying the great company.

With initial plans laid for a proper family get together for Christmas, we began our journey back home. Despite our greatest adventures being behind us, it was still great to get moving again. Thanks to my stubbornly waterproof gear not even the heavy rain could damped my spirits. In fact I often find the freshness of rain to positively invigorate my spirits. We later took it upon ourselves to experience a traditional German roadside kebab. A kebab my dad successfully predicted would wreak havoc in his stomach.

The riding that day was, despite the heavy rain, enjoyable once again. Even my dad was undeterred by his cold and soaked crotch, the unfortunate result of a leaking rain suit. Our riding for the day was finished at Soltau, a town reasonably close to Travemund, and also the home of a large amusement park. Once again we found ourselves a great place for the night, a small guest house run by a friendly married couple. The evening was completed by a culinary culmination at a Brewery restaurant, where I ate a delicious double layered schnitzel with mozzarella and pesto accompanied by pasta in tomato sauce. As if that wasn't enough, I then had a whopping portion of apfel strudel with ice cream and strawberry sauce... phew! Oh, don't forget the beer, it was a brewery after all.

Our trip to the amusement park was accompanied by a constant drizzle, which unfortunately did not fend off the schools visiting the park. Nevertheless, we had a few face distortingly fast rides, one of them being the steepest wooden roller-coaster in the world. Several high speed experiences later we returned to the city where, fuelled by a craving for Chinese food, I took it upon myself to locate a restaurant with the bike's navigator. Indeed I found one, and my craving was well satisfied. I also made the most of the fact that practically every restaurant in Germany seemed to have an assortment of ice cream portions. A banana split was clearly in order.

Later we rode to Travemund through random patches of rain and sunshine. Worried that we hadn't eaten nearly enough on our trip, we decided to do what we could at a seaside marine restaurant. My dad treated himself to a herring dish, while I stuffed myself with more apfel strudel.
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It was that our journey came to an end. Even as I write I feel the same tinge of sadness I felt on the boat back home. Our amazing journey was over, and it had gone by so fast, yet we had seen so much and experienced so many things...

Tour de Europe - Days 7 - 8

Braving the Italian traffic for the better half of the day was indeed tiring. Things got worse when our hungry party couldn't find a restaurant, resorting to spewing obscenities in hopes that one would turn up. When we finally found a place, we were reminded of the local custom of "siesta", that is, going for an afternoon nap in the middle of the day. This of course meant that no restaurants were serving food.

After a slight rest and a coke our morale improved in the face of such adversity. We saddled our bikes and made way to leave this traffic ridden, afternoon napping country for good. It was also time to part with Kari and his wife, who headed back home to Wiesbaden while we continued towards Lugano, Switzerland.

Crossing the border to Switzerland was as simple as riding past a welcome sing, but the clean surroundings, well maintained roads and an absence of mad traffic truly told us we were no longer in Italy. Lugano was an incredibly beautiful city cradled by mountains and set beside a lake. Incidentally we happened to stumble upon a jazz festival, and after a comically difficult search for a hotel, we walked down town for an enjoyable evening. We sat for a brilliant meal outside an Italian restaurant and soaked in the atmosphere as we watched the passers by head towards the concert square. By the time we had finished, the square was utterly packed with people. We walked around admiring the city and lake, then realised tired we were and headed back to collapse into our hotel beds.




The following morning we spent doing some shopping around the city, among then a Swiss army knife key ring and a stylish Swatch watch for mum, who when she received it commented several times amusingly on how much like cardboard it looked. Walking along the sunny lakeside, we began itching for new scenery, and hurried to the hotel to continue our journey towards the city of Montreux. Once again we ascended, this time to the Alps of Switzerland. This was one of the most spectacular and enjoyable legs of our journey, with mind blowing scenery and refreshingly cool weather.




We stopped at a small alpine cabin built into the side of the mountain. Inside was a small room decorated with all sorts of motorcycle memorabilia, and a kitchen from which were greeted. Our alpine lunch of local sausage and cheese could not have tasted better, and as we talked with the cabin's owner we discovered, he had been to Finland, twice!


One of the most amazing moments of our journey surprised us as we came out of a small tunnel in the mountains. Directly in front of us opened a huge scenic valley, and down the mountain on our left was a magnificent glacier, completely free of any tourist build up.

Waiting for us at Montreux was another jazz festival which ensured us another challenge in finding an affordable hotel. Finding one was difficult, and we had to settle for one of a higher quality than originally planned. Although our plan was to see what this jazz festival was like, after our bounty full dinner we found ourselves far too tired for such exploration.

Tour de Europe - Days 6 - 7

One of the most fascinating parts of the day was when we descended past the snow line. Quite abruptly, the snow covering the ground gave way to green grass and foliage. Due to the snow we had set off quite late today, but we were determined to reach lake Garda before the day was over. The mountain scenery was as mind boggling as ever, and we headed to a glacier which was near our route.


Apparently the slope leading down to the glacier was home to Marmots, a type of cuddly looking alpine hamster beavers. Unfortunately, the weather was against us and we did not see a single one. Nevertheless, the glacier was quite the sight, the bright blue icy pond below it looking especially mysterious.

We continued our journey accompanied by sinister weather and eventually found ourselves on a road at the bottom of a valley. Riding through the fields squished between the mountains we approached the border to Italy. Little changed as we crossed the border, only a sign bidding us welcome and a "Ristorante Pizzeria" immediately on our right.

The final push to lake Garda was one of the most arduous portions of our trip, not helped by Italian traffic. It was quite pitiful to see small, idyllic Italian villages only to find their small roads clogged by trucks. Although wider roads were no better, as we found the motorways to be equally jammed. Luckily we weren't going by car, or we would still be there. Despite the prowess of our motorcyclists at negotiating the jam, they were no match for the mad Italian scooters darting through the gaps, occasionally flying off bridges as mischievous truck drivers opened their doors.

Upon arrival at our destination, we were confronted by the challenge of finding a bed for the night and a relatively safe place for the motorcycles. Indeed, the latter proved a challenge, and we were forced to leave our motorcycles at a public parking space, much to the unease of my father and Kari. After having finally settled down, our tired and hungry group walked to a pizzeria. What better way to end a day which had started in the midst of an alpine snow storm, and come to an end amidst Italian palms?





The next day we spent the better half of the morning exploring Riva de la Garda, the town where we were staying. The views were spectacular and the sun was shining. We stopped at a café for espressos and a lemon ice cream. Once we were finished admiring the old buildings, clear water, magnificent mountains, pasta stalls etc, we were ready for some new scenery.

Luckily our bikes had braved the night. We packed them, and returned to the hotel to change into riding gear. Then, thoroughly sweaty, we walked back to the bikes and were glad to be off again, especially with the steadily rising temperatures of our nerves. The activity of the day would be braving the Italian traffic and eventually making our way to Switzerland.

Tour de Europe - Days 4 - 6

The following day we set off for the Alps. Never having been to the Alps before I was very excited. As a whole the day enjoyed pleasant scenery, but arriving at the foot of the Alps was quite an experience. As the mountains rose in the horizon, we were surrounded by idyllic countryside. It was cloudy, but from many gaps the sun shone on a hilltop church or cottage. As I gazed in awe at the sights, a sudden bloody stain splashed on my visor, the only remains of some unfortunate insect.

We stayed at a so called sport hotel, a hotel used as a base for hiking trips etc. It also advertised itself as a "biker hotel." Where in some places bikers might be discriminated against, we had now entered prime biker country. The owner of the hotel was a kind burly woman who provided us with a place in her garage for the motorcycles. After a quick wash and a change into more comfortable clothes, we met up at the downstairs restaurant for some schnitzels and a pint. I admired the great view from the window, ignorant of the even more spectacular sights which would await us next day.

We set off in good time towards Austria. The day was excellent. For the first half of the day we rode across sunny fields, overshadowed by mountains.


We stopped at a petite village for cappuccinos cake.

We then rode to the most spectacular scenery yet...


Higher, and higher...


We rose into the foreboding mountains, our destination, Edelweissspitze, 2570m above sea level. The sky was once again cloudy, except for the occasional beautiful ray of sunlight. Looking at the bleak mountainside as we slowly climbed higher along the winding rode. Truly, these were so far the most amazing sights I had seen in my life. And seeing them from the back off a motorcycle made it all the better, the wind blowing in your face, the occasional droplet of rain. Sights like these are not worthy of being stared at through car windows.

We arrived at the summit, and made to decision to stay at the lodge there, rather than continue to a slightly lower altitude to a perhaps more comfortable hotel. It was raining now, and after admiring the views we retreated to our rooms to relax slightly. Once again it was time for the proper relaxing, a big ol' schnitzel and a beer.

Next morning I was woken up by my dad "Have a look outside." He was accompanied by his brother, also unsuspecting of the sight that lay ahead. I looked at the window, it seemed to be completely white from fog. I opened it, all was still white, except for a rocky outcrop... covered with snow. As the wind blew in my face I closed the window, and fell back grinning in amazement.

Time for some frolicking in the snow!

Plenty free parking space today...


Can you spot where the snow ends and the mountains begin?


Snowmobiles are waaay out of fashion.


Later that day we were luckily able to continue. With the ground warm, it was possible to clear the snow to reveal the road. However, extreme skill was required to ride down the treacherously wet and steep cobbled road.

We made it down to a safer road and continued riding, eventually past the snow line. A tough day of riding was ahead, a day which would see us through snow covered mountains, past glaciers, and eventually to lake Garda in Italy... Look forward for the next update!

Tour de Europe - Days 1 - 3

At last, it is a time for the full account of our epic motorcycle journey through Europe. On Thursday afternoon with all our stuff packed we headed off to the docks in Helsinki. We would travel straight to Travemunde, with a half cargo, half tourist ship. I was expecting the journey to be exceedingly boring, since it would take almost thirty hours. Most peculiarly however, the three activities the ship had to offer, eating, sleeping and going to the sauna were enough to fill the hours.

It was Friday evening when we arrived at Travemunde with our new friend whom we had met on the ship. Matti was also a Harley enthusiast and would join us for the first leg of our journey, seeing as we would be going the same way. Our destination from the dock was the Finnish Seamen's Church of Hamburg, where we would be spending our first night, the only night we had planned ahead. Although the journey there was, looking back, in no way scenic, I thoroughly enjoyed absorbing the sights and the atmosphere of a new country.

Upon arriving at the church, we were greeted by a friendly member of the staff, parked our motorcycles in the garage, and went to change into some more comfortable clothing. In celebration of Germany's beer drinking age of sixteen, we also immediately glugged down a beer. Then we set of to explore Hamburg, but we didn't get very far and found ourselves in a bar. After enjoying the beer and the good company, it was already quite late, and we headed to bed.

Our next destination was Wiesbaden, right next to Frankfurt. Here we would meet up with my fathers brother, Kari. The ride through Germany was arduous, but there was plenty of interesting scenery. Wherever you go in Germany, there will always a be a few castles and towers on far hilltops. For lunch we stopped at random at a nice looking restaurant. As we settled down at one of the tables, I was slightly worried the place was unnecessary posh, and we would pay the price, quite literally. Despite the immaculately decorated venue and professional service, the huge platter of beautiful sandwiches we ordered cost a measly €3.20. We also rode through the Harts forest, where we stopped at a small village for two generous swathes of cake. Later on we parted with our comrade in motorcycling, and proceeded for the final push to Wiesbaden.

With evening closing in, and many kilometres to go, we opted to ride the autoban. I find it quite odd that most people who I have told of our story are incredibly excited by the autoban, and seemed to think it would be our primary route. Rather, whenever possible, we would set our navigator to stay clear of motorways, so that we would end up (hopefully) in winding little roads going through small villages and countryside. We arrived at Wiesbaden quite late in the evening, and bottoms thoroughly aching, we dumped our stuff in Kari's apartment and headed for a local Chinese restaurant. No, schnitzels quite yet.

Next day I woke up at twelve, just in time for lunch on the balcony. We made our preparations, and rode down south, now with Kari and his wife on their Harley. This leg of our journey saw the best scenery yet, as we rode through the foreboding black forest. In the evening we arrived at the beautiful city of Freudenstadt. After circling the city centre a few times, we chose to stay at Hotel Adler. The manager was very friendly and even moved her car out of the garage to accommodate our bikes. Then it was time for a large schnitzel and beer. Well fed, we set out for a walk to admire the city. After some delicious ice cream constructions at a local ice cream bar, we were entertained by my dad, who after playing over some fountains set into the ground, completely soaked his jeans.