Story of my tour through 7 countries in Europe

Prologue: I did this tour in the summer of 2013. I've been writing this up the last couple of months but havent been able to find much time to do so. At first I intended to write the whole thing before posting it here, but that might just take another year. I figured if I posted a start, it would encourage me to start writing again. I hope you guys enjoy, I know I did.

O'Sheas Irish Pub
Eindhoven, The Netherlands
Late 2012

''Six more Irish Car Bombs!''
''No I cant take any more, seriously I've got some training to do tomorrow.''
''You a pussy?'' ''Yeah come on, you care more about your bike than your friends?''
''Oh what the heck.. I can skip training once. Where's that Guinness?!''
''There you are mate! I don't get it. What's so exciting about riding this bike all the time. I mean I know you have to train for that charity event and I've great respect for that, but doesn't it get boring after hours and hours in the saddle?''
''It never gets boring. I'd ride my bike to Paris if I had to. You know what, I'll do you one better. This summer after the exams, I'll ride my bike to the southernmost place in Spain.''
''Hahaha you're crazy! We'll see about that! Now drink up!''

The next morning, or should I say afternoon, when we woke up, a friend brought it up again. Like when I had the drunk idea of getting my last name tattooed in Arial Black on my foot, I didn't go back on my word, and confirmed that I would do it. After a bit of Google Map'ing, cycling to Málaga seemed like a better idea, as there's a Ryanair connection directly back to Eindhoven.

I started reading about touring and asking questions about it everywhere. I didn't know what to bring, how to bring it and how to get where I wanted to get. I decided to get racks and panniers, but when I traveled all the way to Amsterdam to a store called ''De Vakantiefietser'', the man told me he didnt want to put racks on my carbon frame. I started doubting if it was the right thing to do, but still kept looking for racks that could fit my bike. However there were some possibilities, I decided not to go with racks & panniers after all. I saw nice frame bags on the internet and opted for using one in combination with a rucksack. People strongly recommended me not to put any weight on my back, or anywhere on my body so to speak. The dilemma was that I wanted to have a rucksack with me which I could use off the bike, as well as to do shoppings. Here I got the idea of strapping a rucksack to my seatpost and saddle, like a big saddle bag. I ordered the frame bag and bought the rucksack I wanted. When I was in Amsterdam I had already bought a small handlebar bag. The luggage setup was complete. All I needed now was the stuff to put in the bags. But stubbon as I am, I wanted lighter wheels for this tour. Carbon wheels with a semi-deep profile to be exact. Again, for very logical reasons, I was strongly recommended not to do so. Did I already mention I'm a stubborn guy? I hooked myself up with a pair of second hand Reynolds Attack wheels. That was somewhere late in June, around the same time my framebag arrived after having spent most of it's existence in customs. By that time I had collected most of the equipment and stuff I wanted to bring on my trip (Many thanks to LFGSS members who helped me compose this. Especially edscoble and my irl friend known here as Rodolfo). Meanwhile collecting my gear and equipment, I bargained a Garmin Edge 800 and started making routes in Garmin Connect. It was time for a test ride. I didn't have time for a test ride. I really wanted to do a test ride. I did a test ride. The test ride was one of 15 km. All the same it was an obliging test ride, as I had everything packed the way I wanted to pack it for the tour. The test ride went smooth.

The setup (Even those who like this thread may tl;dr scroll down here if not interested)

''Me and my bike just before the test ride''

The bike
Planet X SL Pro Carbon
Shimano 105 5603 Triple groupset 9sp 12-27 Casette
Reynolds Attack wheelset
Michelin Endurance Pro 25c tires
Prologo Scratch Pro Ti 1.4 Saddle
Look Keo Easy pedals

Garmin Edge 500 on stem
Garmin Edge 800 on bars
Front light
500ml & 750ml bottle in carbon PX cages
Topeak Micro Rocket AL pump

The handlebar bag Ortlieb Ultimate 5 Compact
Smartphone
Photo camera with GPS function, great for touring!
Wallet with cards and cash
Small notebook & pen
Arm & leg warmers
Warm gloves
Keys

The frame bag Revelate Designs Tangle Frame Bag size Large
Terra Nova Laser Comp 1 tent & 14 glass fiber pegs in the big compartment
The rest in the smaller compartment:
2 spare tubes
2 sets Lezyne patches
Tire levers
Rimtape
Spare spokes
Park Tool internal spoke nipple wrench
2 Missing links
Squirt Lube
Allen keys
Screw driver +
Multi tool
Tiny piece of rag
Roll of sandwich bags
Zip ties
Electrical tape
Mini pliers
Kabrus alarm padlock
£1 PX Lock

The rucksack strapped to saddle & post Osprey Talon 22
Exped AirMat Basic 7.5
Vaude Piekan Light sleeping bag
Pair of Teva shoes
Lightweight nylon zip-off trousers
Cotton t-shirt
Swimming shorts
2 Boxer shorts
Pair socks
Flip flops
Ray Ban shades
Micro towel
Tiny light shaver for head
Sandwichbag1: Toothbrush sawed in half, toothpaste, bar soap(inside other bag), wash cloth, sudocrem, Assos chamois creme, tiny bottle of Assos washing liquid
Sandwichbag2: Needle & thread, betadine cream, plasters
Sandwichbag3: Chargers for phone, GPS devices and camera battery
Sandwichbag4: 2 tiny candles & pack of matches
Spork
Army knife
Sawed off camping spatula
Tiny camping stove
2 lightweight pots (tousers went in one and microtowel in the other)
Salt
Passport
Few clothespins
Bin bag
6 Cans of snus

Me
Assos bibs
Icebreaker Merino undershirt
Jersey which I received when participaring in a charity event
Cheap summer gloves
Cheap short socks
Bont Vaypor shoes
Helmet
Photochromatic cycling glasses
Gore Bike Wear windstopper jacket in jersey pocket

[size=24]INSERT ROUTE HERE[/size]

My parents house
Eindhoven, The Netherlands
14 July 2013

I had worked the night before in the restaurant. Although I left early in order to get some sleep, I didn't sleep very well. I woke up every 20 minutes to check if I hadn't forgotten to pack anything, as tend to forget things. Of course I hadn't. I checked at least a dozen times before I even went to work in the first place.
It was 6 AM when the alarm rang. I barely slept but I didnt feel tired at all. I felt a tad bit nervous, yet the desire to get out there completely overruled that emotion. I noticed that my parents were more nervous than I was myself. My father had already made me promise that I wouldnt camp out in the wild, so I had to stick to campsites.

I jumped out of bed, which got me light headed for a few seconds, then went down to eat something. I knew I had to eat but I couldnt get anything down my throat. Eventually some yogurt with rolled oats and two oranges did the job. The bike was stalled in the garage, already packed. I took it out into the garden and did a final check to see if everything was alright mechanical wise and luggage wise. I applied some more Squirt Lube to the chain, which wasn't necessary at all. I knew that after I would shower, I would put on my cycling outfit and leave soon after, so I didn't go to shower until I had everything triple checked. It was a quick shower really. After all this time I couldn't wait any longer.

8:20 was the time as I walked my bike out of the back yard onto the street next to my parent's house. Last kiss to my parents and a photo before I took off. A new adventure had begun.

The first 80km of that day's ride weren't too exciting, as I had ridden the road to Hasselt(BE) before. Yet it naturally felt different, as I knew I wasn't going to return when I got there. I didn't take many photo's that ride since the view was not much new to me personally. However I did take a few:

Entering Belgium like I had done dozens of times before. Still worth a picture, crossing my first bikepacking borders.

With about 100km in the legs I found some shade in these cherry trees, where, if you look good, some burgers 'n steaks were enjoying a slight breeze in the sun, while whipping their tails to fend the flies. Sadly for them, without success.

In the shade of the trees I undid my legs of it's warmers and enjoyed the sweet cherries that were in plentitude. I almost ate too much, for they were delicious.

There I started to see some difference in altitude. Something which I wasn't quite used to in my flat country.

Arrived at Liège, I chose to avoid the city center. For some this may seem a strange thing to do, but that city, however beautiful it may be, didn't attract me much as it was still so close to where I'm from. I rode though the eastern part of the city, down to Esneux. As I thought I had arrived at the campsite, it seemed I first had to climb a rather steep hill. The first real hill of this trip came by surprise, but not unwanted.

The first campsite setup. It was the second time for me to mount the tent, but it went just fine. Luckily because there was a family watching me doing it and I didn't want to feel clumsy doing it.
I drank some water. Disgusting tap water. I'm used to that delicious Dutch tapwater, which none can top. Then took a nice warm shower and rinsed my already salty clothes. Hung them to try on a tent cord, which wasn't so handy but I forgot to bring a loose cut of cord for this purpose.

It was time to do a little walking around town with my rucksack and find a supermarket. All I had brought for that day's dinner was a pack of spaghetti. Fuck me it was sunday.

That little walk turned out to be a 15km hike, being sunday 'n all. Oh well, I'll be honest, I also kinda got lost. It was for the better though, as I got to see some nice scenery.

The ride didn't affect me much physically, but that hike made me very aware of the muscles in my legs. I was a bit afraid that I would suffer from it the next day. But, at least I had food.
I boiled the pasta and added a can of tune, green beans, a raw bell pepper and a shitload of salt to that. Wasn't the best meal I ever had, but damn sure it was satisfying! I could borrow some chairs from the camping owners, which was a nice bonus.

Opposite of me was a nice Dutch family who took this photo of me enjoying my first bikepacking dinner. They were good people, but as I was still very close to home, I could sense their doubt about my goal. For my fellow Dutchmen it's not a very common sight to see a brown fella on a roadbike, let alone one riding it to the other side of Europe! After a fine chat and the joy of a proper portion of snus I decided it was time to get some rest. I brushed my teeth, took a good long piss and creamed my sitting surface with Sudocrem before I hit the sack at about 21:30. The bike was locked to a trunk of the hedge though the chain and chainstays, which was again covered with the alarm lock.

Eindhoven - Esneux (Liège)
143.8 km
831 m

Camping Les Murets
Esneux, Belgium
15 July 2013

5:30 Fito & Fitipaldis - Por La Boca Vive El Pez. ''Shut your fucking face, Fito!'' was my thought when I turned off the alarm on my phone.
8:00 I finally got up. It was chilly and I felt a bit stiff, but not of a disencouraging amount. I slowly got up and out of my tent, took a piss and ate some of the fruit and a small piece of bread which I had bought the day before. As I walked back to my campsite, I didn't really know where to start. I couldn't just stand there and do nothing, so I figured I started ordering the things I wanted to pack first. After a bit of packing, it striked me that I should first prepare myself to take off before packing. I went to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth, got dressed in cycling kit, save shoes and helm and went back to pack. This way I didn't have to bear in mind stuff that I couldn't pack for I still might need them. I had decided to use the same strategy from that moment on. All in all it took a while to get everything sorted and packed, mind that I thought well about what I did, so that the next time I could do it with my eyes closed.

Almost three hours later than planned I hit the road at 9:45. Nearing the Ardennes it started to get hillier and hillier. My only experience with climbing was on actual mountains. These short hill reps were of a whole different level and as the more south I went, the higher the I went. Meaning that the descents were shorter than the climbs. Despite it could hurt a little, I enjoyed it very much.

I crossed some beautiful villages and rode relatively quiet roads. Maybe too quiet even. I expected to see more cyclists in this region.
Later on in La Roche en Ardenne there were more people and a lot of cyclists around. I had a nice cold bottle of coke on a terrace and had a nice chat some with enthousiastic older road cyclists who obiously envied me because I did what they had always dreamt of doing. After a second bottle of coke, which I only ordered because the waitress was so hot, I took off to continue my journey.

I had already noticed the day before when I entered unknown grounds that my GPS routes, rather carelessly made in Garmin Connect, weren't always as they were supposed to be. This didn't matter much, as I didnt intend to stick to them exactly, but rather use them as reference to make sure that I don't stray off too far. As the Garmin 800 battery doesn't last that long, I used the 500 to track my rides and keep me informed. The 800 was only switched on when the need for guidance was there.
That guidance was needed when I didn't have a clue where I was going in some tiny village not far from Bastogne. I circled the church thrice and almost forgot which direction I came from. Thank god I have my Garmin 800, right? First it made me circle around the church once more, then it sent me towards an old, badly paved, dusty road. Nothing wrong with old roads though. I felt like an adventurer! Further along the road it got worse though.

Before I knew it I was outside the village riding in the tracks of a tractor. It was bumpy and slightly descending. Still no real problem, just a tad bit uncomfortable. What worried me more was that I didn't see any roads nearby. I couldn't see if the path I was riding would end on a road, another path or even in a field. Not sure if I would rather have ended up in a crop field...

You can't see it in the photo, but this road had a downward slope of 13%. At least that's what my Garmin told me. It felt much worse than that! I was downhill mountainbiking in a fucking forest in the middle of nowhere on my precious carbon fibre road bike with carbon rims and packed for an adventure. Adventure is what I got! While I almost tumbled down that forest I asked myself why oh why didnt I listen to Rodolfo and the others concerning the carbon setup. This was obviously the end of what should have become an amazing summer adventure. I kept going faster and faster, because braking too much affected my control over the bike. I braced myself and was ready for impact. Either one or both wheels would snap any moment, I would crash on a rock and break my frame.
Strangely none of this happened. On a more flat part of the course I managed to gain stability and stop the bike. I stood there for a while to catch my breath before I dismounted. When I got off I first checked my tires and rims, they were fine. Then the saddlebag which, surprisingly, was still correctly in place. When everything seemed to be intact, I started to realise that I was nowhere, with no real way out. If I had kept going I would've crashed into a tree. I planted my bike against a tree to have a look around, hoping to find a way out. I really didn't want to walk back up there. After a few steps I noticed the rocky soil underneath the grass and dirt. Luckily I had a fragile pair of carbon Bont Vaypors wrapped around my feet. I had to walk on the cleats to not ruin the shoes, which was a pain. When I looked in the distance I saw something that could be a house or a shed, so decided to lift my bike and walk there. I had to cross a small ditch on my way there. I couldnt risk jumping it with my bike in my hands so had to think of another solution. I neared the water and held my bike in front of me, holding it at the bars and saddle. Then I swung the wheels to the other side of the water and put them down on the ground. I could now push the bike so it would gently fall on its side at the other side of the water. Save that the bike slided down a little bit so that the wheels dipped, everything went according to my plan. Then I jumped across the ditch on a soft piece of grass. We made it to the other side and it felt as if I had discovered America. About 20 meters further I finally got out of the forest. What I had seen was indeed a shed, next to a beautiful old house. To get to the drive, I had to cross another bigger stream of water. Luckily there was a gorgeous cute little wooden bridge. As if it was made just for me. I regret that I don't have photo's of that place.
Now the drivelane took me to a hideously steep road, which required me for the first time to use my 30-27 gear. It was all worth it, for when I got up there and followed the road, I suddenly found myself exactly where I wanted to be.

The road from Liège to Bastogne was different than I expected, but without having seen many cobbles, I still did my fair share of rough roads.

From there on it didnt take long for me to enter Luxemburg, and the reservoir area where I planned to camp that night.

This sign told me I was close, but I didn't actually see the reservoir. I was told by a nice old man that to get there I had to descend all the way to get to the lake. I knew there were some campings around there, so decided to get down and set up camp after a long day. The steep descent though small villages was pleasant with its quality tarmac and smooth curves. Once arrived at the lake I was stunned by it's tranquil beauty. Usually such places are flooded by Dutch and German tourists, trashing the place. This reservoir was preserved and quiet. Some kids were playing on a bridge and only few locals passed by car, but no campsite to be seen. I asked the kids, who then told me I had to go back up to the village. They spoke fluent French with a strong Germanish accent. That steep hill with nice curves wasn't so pleasant when I had to climb it. In the village on top, some kind of street fair was going on, counting about 50 people. I went up to them and asked for the campsite, as I couldn't find it. They told me it was in the next village halfway down to the lake. I laughed at myself for needless climbing and set sail to the campsite. It was hard to find, but I eventually got there. A paper on the reception door read that I could pick a pitch and come by in the evening to pay.

The socket box was locked so I couldnt charge my stuff. No biggie, I'll do that when the camping owner is back. Time for a shower! No shower.. A coin was required. Maybe one of the old folks in the small cafeteria could help me out. One could indeed. He sold me a coin for €2, which I still find rediculously expensive. Back at the sanitary building I first undressed myself, because I didn't know how long the water would last and didn't want to spill a single drop. All prepped and ready to get wet, I tossed the coin in the machine and waited. Waited a little longer, and some more. I was flabbergasted, no water! Back into those sweaty clothes I headed to the cafeteria and spoke about it with the man who sold me the coin. He forgot to mention that only the showers at the other end of the camping were functional. He gave me another coin and I finally got to shower.