On the 6th of April 2005, cousins Jamie Mackenzie and Ben Wylson set off on their bikes on a journey which will take them to over 50 countries and to every one of the worlds great continents, all without the use of an aeroplane.
Sunday, May 29, 2005: goodbye Minsk
Belarus has the last dictatorship in Europe - you have to be careful what you say. We have cycled about 1500 miles and will be on our way to Moscow tomorrow to meet my brother, Jazzman, using nothing but the power of our legs! It is from Moscow that we will jump onto the train to Beijing.. The adventure continues.
Thanks for all your support. We could not do this with out you our fans! Every bit of encouragement you give is like having people cheering for you running the 100 metres on sports day.
If anyone can help us with sticking the piccies on the site, please let us know.
Thursday, May 26, 2005: machine guns & fish
We left Warsaw on the 10th day of our stay in the capital. It was great to see the place but even better when we finally got back on the road and were once again heading east. We struck a path north-east towards the border and contrary to what the weather reports were saying, we had fine sunshine on our backs all the way. It took a while to get back into the motions after such a long break and we didn't get to the border until our fifth day of cycling. It was most frustrating as mentally we'd already reached Belarus and all the time we were cycling in Poland it felt like we were behind the start line.
We approached the crossing with quite heavy hearts as we weren't sure what to expect of the country. We had heard so many stories about attacks, muggings and worse and most of the people we mentioned it to totally advised against our going there.
The Polish side was fine and there was a young soldier who spoke grand English who escorted us through their side of proceedings but he said that despite the fact that we had visas for entry, the guards on the other side were very temperamental and could turn us away if they so wished. He walked us to the bridge. A white line was painted across it where he halted and said he could go no further: 'The other side is Belarus, I can go no further. Good luck,' he said. It felt like we were convicted cons walking down death row as we pushed our bikes over the bridge towards the patrol tower. A guard with a machine gun slung around his waist waved us to stop. We showed him our papers, our hearts thumping. He shook his head and said, 'This is crossing for cars, no bikes allowed, please'. We couldn't believe it. He asked us to wait at the the side of the road while he waved on some trucks that had built up in a queue behind us. He came back to us after half an hour and inexplicably just waved us on and told us to go through to customs.
Still dubious we pushed on to passport control. More armed guards and severe looking soldiers. It was just like you might be able to imagine: almost like a war zone in the middle of some political conflict. To our delight, though, the troops we dealt with couldn't have been nicer, completely contradicting their stern exteriors. Our passports were taken and stamped, we were shown to a currency exchange desk (again we were unprepared and didn't realise about the change of currency, what it was or what it was worth) and we were even told where we could find food and water on the other side. Some high-ranking official came out and asked a few questions, wondering if we held drugs, or even small arms! We had to chuckle when he asked that although it didn't go down very well; he was quite serious.
From that moment Belarus seemed like a paradise land. All our fears and inhibitions were shelved and every assumption we had held turned out to be quite the opposite. The roads were newly laid, had vast hard shoulders, the people all seemed nice and the weather continued to beam down. We ate a huge lunch when we found the cafe, the owner laying on a feast.
The map we have is in Russian so navigating would have been very tricky if we hadn't made an early decision to stay to the main roads. We had become quite used to taking the small roads which we were sure no westerner had ever travelled along in Poland, that would lead us through remote villages and quaint dwellings, but now, with safety in mind, we stuck only to the highways. They are like a dream, a biker's heaven and best of all they have next to no traffic on them. We would cycle for hours and not see a single vehicle, enjoying the entire lay of fresh tarmac to ourselves.
We cycled hard for 2 1/2 days to reach Minsk yesterday, sometimes clocking well over 80 miles. Usually we stop at about 7pm and look for somewhere to throw the tents down. A farmer's field that is sheltered from the road by a hedge will often do. Several times the farmer has come by, though, and we have had to take evasive action, jumping in ditches etc. We left ourselves 50 miles to cycle yesterday and it wasn't the nicest of rides. We had the choice of arriving that day and taking to the motorway or spinning it out by taking the back roads. We opted for the motorway, reasoning that if the other roads we had been on were anything to go by we wouldn't have any problems at all. We weren't sure if it was legal or not, though, so we were determined to avoid the law at all costs. When our road met the motorway there was a concrete blockade with guards positioned along it. They were checking lorry drivers' papers and inspecting their loads. There was a narrow channel on the outside, big enough to get the bikes down. It was screened from the guards by the big articulateds and so, under cover, we slipped by undetected and out the other side. Once in the open we pedalled like crazy until out of sight and again to our delight, discovered a sizeable hard shoulder. The heavens opened on us and we were wet through in seconds and remained so until we reached Minsk.
On the horizon huge grey tower blocks started appearing out of the gloom and soon enough we were in amongst them, dicing with the traffic and buses who seem to have no concern for the safety of cyclists. Tourists don't come to Minsk, there is nothing in place for them whatsoever. Finding accommodation was a massive chore but we now find ourselves with a roof over our heads and actually living in quite comfortable surroundings. In one such gray concrete mountain of a block we now dwell on the 7th floor in a small room that looks out onto the grey roof of the next door grey building.
Today we found a park on the outskirts. It appears that there is fishing to be done so tomorrow we will busy ourselves with trying to catch our first victims. We won't, sadly, be able to cook our catch, however, as to our utter dismay our Primus Omni-fuel burner is not working. After the service I gave it in Berlin we had firm hopes of having hot food every night. Indeed, after leaving Warsaw and finally tracking down some good fuel for it, we bought a load of pasta, sauces and fresh veg. On our first night out we sat down at the edge of a field, deep in mozzie country, to cook up a feast, when, despite all our efforts the damn thing would't fire. I can't begin to explain the disappointment we felt when we had to pack it up and get the muesli out. We have muesli for breakfast and supper now with whatever we can find in a local store for lunch. Should anyone like to contact Primus and convey our disgust, then please, feel free to do so.
Thursday, May 19, 2005: a local insight
With all the best intentions the team woke this morning to depart Warsaw and strike a course northeast towards Belarus. The panniers were loaded, bikes were serviced. After mid-day the keys were handed in at reception to the lady with a nose like a fish hook and we checked out of room 108. FWE walked a few steps over the road to have a final Chinese and plan a route out of the city. With bellies full and suspicious-looking clouds gathering above, we had a late change of mind, crossed the road back to the hotel, spoke to the same women with the fishhook nose and checked back in to room 108.
The last few days have provided us with the insight into Warsaw that we had lacked previously. A coulple we met when we first entered the city asking for directions took us under their wing. They were Chris, an ex-beer salesman from Preston, now teaching English out here, and Yvonna his girlfriend who spoke all sorts of languages and dealt in one way or another with the Russians. They showed us a side of the capital which would otherwise have remained undiscovered. It seems that indeed good quality food can be found. The secret is to find small restaurants that the locals visit, known as milk bars. In these secret cafes piping hot food is served. We tried a traditional dish, meat wrapped in a cabbage leaf served with mashed potato and gravy, with a garnish of parsely. It was only with the help of our friendly guides that we were able to sample such delights.
At 12:00 midnight last night, the FWE pair watched the Polish premier of "Star Wars 3". We were in amongst the geeks, nerds and goons. OB1 walked past with a broom handle covered in tin foil, or was it a light sabre? Following him, a chorus of Wookies calling in excitement as they bound through the cinema doors. There were the lone cardigan wearers, the people in capes, and then, there were the rest of us. Nerd or not, go and see it!
Monday, May 16, 2005: lingering smells & games of chess
The stresses and strains of cycling around the world can be hugely overwhelming at times, but when luck and success come your way it is the sweetest of tastes and we appreciate it all the more. Our visas, for the often aloof Russia, are soon to be with us, tucked safe in our passports, nestled close to their Belarus counterparts.
The nightmare of Berlin consulates has been cleansed from our souls, the process here in Warsaw could not have been further removed from previous hostilities. The 131 bus led to the very doors of the Russian consulate, the small queue was quiet and patient, there were no lingering smells of sweaty crevices and the lady who served was kind, considerate and even flashed an occasional smile. It was a most pleasant experience and we look forward to our return trip at 3pm this coming Wednesday to collect the fully validated papers we so nearly died getting. Peace can reign supreme in the FWE hearts once more.
Our drive for health in a country where such a word is lacking from the national vocabulary, has taken a battering over the last few days. Vegetables are about as hard to come by as fruit and when they do appear, they are charged for through the nose. With the nutritional value of a deep-fried turd, we have taken to the welcoming but sickly arms of the American fast food chains. In one such venue Jamie was hustled into a game of chess with an old man: "Play!" he would shout at every opportunity, with spit and brown dribble oozing down his chin from the corner of his wrinkled, toothless mouth. He chewed his gums, rolled his yellow eyes and occasionally smarmed the yellowish comb-over down with a licked hand. The pawns slid around the board on the sticky covering of spittle, often becoming lodged on a dried chunk of food that had taken its opportunity and fled the old man's mouth. His movements were slow but deceptively cunning. Jamie lost. Money passed to the saliva-riddled hands of the jubilant victor, who proclaimed Jamie "a champion" for his efforts.
Tomorrow the bikes will be wheeled out of the conference room where they're being stored and once again cleaned, serviced and made road-worthy for our push east to Minsk, Belarus. There is a westerly breeze and the sun still shines; an eager anticipation for the road is building once more.
Saturday, May 14, 2005: Cropped herbivores
A message from the 14th Dalai Lama's garden: "buy a gun..preferably a musket." So advised Jo Self, our friend and patron, after reading our last entry.
Warsaw, in fact, has proved to be -as has every other Polish city- most accommodating. Safety is no longer a concern, now that we are away from the wet, windy wilds and the truck-ridden roads that lead into the cities.
Ben's dripping nose has stopped dripping - a juxtaposition of paracetomol and homeopathic remedies made sure of that - but for 2 days he has been in bed festering, shivering and sneezing while Jamie speeds around the city completing all sorts of necessary tasks.
A parade, a carnival, a street festival whoops past as I type, excitable Polish youngsters bounce and scream to rhythms so loud that the windows rattle to the boom of bass forced through enormous speakers, piled onto slow-moving floats. For once, the sun is out.
Healthy food is something hard to come by in Poland. The Polish idea of a side salad is a dollop of coleslaw. On our hunt for the vegetable, we have found ourselves in Pizza Hut more than once. Heathens, I hear you call! To remedy the condition that is lack of greenery, we have taken to eating on occasion five salad bowls each. Our stomachs have turned strange on us. When cycling one gets into the bad habit of being constantly hungry; when cycling one -quite rightly- satisfies one's hunger. It is when one stops cycling that the problem begins. The inactive body still craves the same quantity of food it previously desired on road food. We give in to the craving, passing most of our time stretching our stomachs. I expect we will be obese by the time we return home, barely able to cycle for the fat.
Many will be pleased to hear that our blond locks have been severed and discarded. A life of short hair and all its practicalities begins here..
Thursday, May 12, 2005: water, fruit & salad bowls
The sun shines but we must work. Once again we will endure the rigours of the quest for gaining visas for Russia. It will be a sweaty, tiresome task that will hopefully see the team depart the Polish capital, armed with all the necessary paper work for legal passage to the Russian/Mongolian boarder town of Ulan Ude.
Our hotel is a rancid pit, barely to be classed as 'budget'. However, after what some might call 'free spending', in 3* hotels and luxurious restaurants, FWE will pull in the horns and survive merely on water, fruit and Pizza Hut salad bowls for the week.
The consulate awaits...
Wednesday, May 11, 2005: Warsaw, 1100 miles and half way to Moscow
We have reached Warsaw, travelled some 1100 miles and are over halfway across Europe on our way to Moscow. We checked out of the charming Hotel Royal on a wet and wild Sunday morning and from Poznan struck a heading north-east.
The powers that be laughed heartily as we struggled against the elements. The wind whipped at our ears and the rain lashed our faces. From Jamie's rear wheel a fine spray of watery-grit found it way into Ben's mouth, eyes, ears and nose. The rain lashed rippled puddles, concealed bottomless pot-holes, hell-bent on destroying the very rims of the expedition. In the distance lightning ripped through the sky, thunder plundered the thick air and vast clouds boiled in menacing columns from the horizon to the outer-reaches of the atmosphere. Clothing was soaked through, shoes were swimming in stagnant brown water and the heart was as heavy as lead - behind us we pulled the very weight of the world.
As the week progressed the weather breathed us a sigh of relief: sunshine filtered through the clouds and the rain abated. It was a 90 mile run to Warsaw where shortly after midday on Wednesday 11th May, we arrived; an historic moment for the FWE team. We've endured attacks by psychos, rabid dogs with pearly white teeth like dirks, accostings by old men with noses that have been smeared across their faces from ear to ear and even, to our delight, stopped by the police.
It has been a gruelling time for mind, body and spirit and our stay in Warsaw will surely give the weather time to improve further and the bodies time to heal all ailments. The team will recuperate for a full 6 days before taking to the roads again. The bikes are locked in storage, the bags are emptied, clothes are in the wash...it's time to relax.
Friday, May 06, 2005: A Europe rarely seen
Well, what an experience Eastern Europe is! From the crossing in Frankfurt Oder, Eastern Germany, we have seen a side of Europe neither of us realised existed. From the river Oders'Polish shores to Poznan -the city I type this mail from- we have come across dilapidated buildings, filthy children, unfriendly people, awful road conditions -supposedly the worst in Europe-, mosquitoes an inch long which leave swellings the size of golf balls that itch like crazy, and the weather conditions have been poor to boot.
We just assumed Poland would be reasonably developed; after all, it is an EU member state - only, however, since 2004. So desperate were we to get out of the countryside that we cycled a 90-mile day to minimise our time in poverty-stricken rural areas where the remnants of the all-too-recent communist rule are still prevalent.
We have camped in the middle of dark forests, hearing twigs break outside our tents, gun-shots, dogs barking and people shouting. It is enough to make you lie awake at night clutching a knife for fear of the tent cocoon being invaded by whatever creatures prowl outside.
Cycling into Poznan was a hairy event. We were forced off the road by huge trucks, a bus nearly hit Jamie. We have honed some traffic avoidance tactics. I stare into my mirror looking out for large vehicles. If anything looks like it might hit I scream a warning to Jamie and we both swerve off the road to let the monster past. Our motto is "If you're going to fall off, fall right". To fall left would almost certainly result in the making of Free Wheels East Pate. We always take the smallest of roads going miles out of our way to avoid the big ones. The problem is that in Poland all the roads are big and any road going into a city is frighteningly, unavoidably busy.
Poznan is a beautiful city with Italianate architecture. We are staying in one of the best hotels in the city for next to nothing -telling hotel managers that you've cycled from England can get you a hefty discount. We thought it the best option to keep the bikes safe - at least that is our excuse for living in luxury. The hotel looks like the Savoy only it lacks footmen. On the walls are pictures of all the rich and famous people who have stayed: visitors include Robert De Niro.
The beer is as cheap as water, so I expect we will go out and enjoy a few tonight before we push on to Warsaw some time tomorrow. We have no idea what to expect of Belarus, and are sure it will be even less accommodating than Poland. This thought brings on a shudder. We are going to have to meditate our way to Moscow. Perhaps we will see some buffalo on the way, as Poland has the largest population in Europe.
You will hear from us again from Warsaw.
Please appreciate what you have. Our haven England is a fine place to live. Take it from cyclists, not tourists.
Sunday, May 01, 2005: back on the road
The alarms are set for 6am, bags are packed and the bikes serviced. FWE is bound for Poland. After days of hard toil and sweat in internet cafes, our Belarus visas are now firmly in place on page 38 of our passports, costing us the princely sum of 250 euros. Familiar now with alternating between sofa and floor, we must prepare for tents and the unpredictability of our road east.
Thank you, Sari, our hostess, for the keys to your flat. Thank you, Berlin for a stay never to be forgotten. Goodbye, Kaisers Supermarket, goodbye, happy chubby friend in the D.V.D hire shop, goodbye,Indian restaurant on the corner, goodbye, Charlottenburg.
contact us | news | travellers | gallery | sitemap