The beauty of travelling – meeting people who inspire and give insight into new worlds.

The beauty of travelling is meeting people from all different countries, backgrounds and cultures. With each meeting you are given an insight of the life they lead. Of the choices they made in life. Why they made them, where they are now and where they want to go. It’s fascinating.

An example of this in travelling was yesterday evening and this morning in Slide.

I was having dinner on my own when a pair of retired women joined my table. They were from New Zealand and had both travelled extensively in their younger days. As we shared some wine and chat I learned one had travelled the world for 5 years on her own. Including countries such as Afghanistan! It’s always a real treat to hear such stories and experiences especially from women who have travelled on their own before mobile phones and technology.

After dinner we parted ways; a piece of paper in my pocket with contact details written. They were already planning where I would stay and my route when I arrived in New Zealand.

I then headed onto a social gathering on the sea front, invited by a local girl who’s cousins birthday it was. I enjoyed the local beer and conversation; the sea for the background music and the docked ships for our light not too far away. The Croatians love to find new ways of swearing and this was all very entertaining for me. They have much skill at this and I must say I was very impressed!

Afterwards I went off to find some live music and ended up chatting to a Canadian girl who works as an assistant for the speaker of their House of Commons. Thought that was pretty cool. She organises events and looks after all the delegates when they visit. Fascinating to hear about. We chatted about her studies in politics and why she chose the line of work she is in. Everyone always has hilarious takes on their own lives.

This morning I began the day by having breakfast with a fashionable & eccentric Croatian women who has lived in Florence for 15 years now and was back to renew her passport. As a child she had been destined to be a ‘big deal’ in classical music. Until she reached teenage-hood and that was that – she would be no slave to the piano! She embarked on a career as a successful journalist before giving it all up to follow her true dream of fashion. The risk paid off and she has become one of the greatest designers around working for some of the worlds biggest and most successful fashion houses. It’s a life surrounded by fame but in order to keep herself in a world she is happy with she refrains from “chasing the money”.

All the women I have met here on their journeys have inspired me greatly.

Running from the tent again …

Well I did it again … I ran out my tent … mid post beer siesta … In a thunder and lightening storm in Carlobag again Croatia. There really was no need this time – it was all very normal. I just got scared. This time the patio I ran too housed a group of Croatians all singing along to a guitar. I was welcomed into their afternoon and sipped a few Rakija-travarica, which I’m told was home made from the surrounding plants. And may have infact been illegal. It was very strong and had to go swimming and diving to clear the head. I’m so glad I ran from my tent scared – turned out magical.

The Sandal Experience on Entering Slovenia

This morning on entering Slovenia from Italy …

I accidentally pished on my sandals.

Descending into the Slovenian town of Kozina wearing pishy sandals and singing ‘I’m in the mood for dancing … romancing’ on repeat. Quite simply because that’s the only words I know.

I am now in acceptance of the kids in primary school calling me Pishy Ishy – it’s clearly justified now; at age 33.

The Lightening Experience in Croatia

They say you learn a lot on the road.

They say learning new ways can be tough.

Tough? I absolutely shat it!

Cycling through the beautiful Slovenian countryside for only two hours I arrived at the Croatian border check point.

I hadn’t made any effort to check the weather so far on the trip and I was waved through customs completely oblivious to the impending storm the locals were expecting.
Of course people assume I’m heading for a hotel or campsite …

Anyway I was all pitched up by 8pm under some trees in a field having a much needed early and relaxing night.
The following posts are taken from my social media page that evening:

9.06pm

OH MY FRIGGEN GOD THERE IS AN ANIMAL JUMPING AT MY TENT TRYING TO GET IN!!!
There goes sleep, my heart rate is maxing out!!!
I need to calm the fck down because we humans are top of the food chain and that makes me boss in this situation.

23.19pm

WTF WTF WTF!

The animal may well be in my tent now cause I’ve done a runner.
I don’t even think I closed the tent on legging it.

Out of nowhere a massive electrical storm began. I’ve never in my life experienced anything close to this. The entire tent was lighting up with the sky. The constant sound of the almighty thunder was nothing on the deafening crackle and boom of lightening hitting the ground near my tent!
I opened the tent and ‘flew’ out it running across the field to a farmhouse where I stood under the porch of the doorway shaking and trying not to cry. I just stood there. Looking out at the storm. My plan was to stand there all night. I saw another bolt hit the ground – again it was the sound that consumed all the senses. The air had changed. Something had changed in me. I was whimpering by this point. The front door opened and there was the understandable ‘fright’ moment for home owners being greeted with the sight of me on their porch. But I was past all that and remained with my back to them looking out to the storm freaking out in an English rambling whisper,

“It’s okay I’m just going to stand here all night, I’m just going to stand here all night, that’s what I’m doing, everything’s okay”.

They spoke little English but when they realised my tent was out there in the field they took me in and gave me a warm sugary drink and a bed for the night.

I can’t begin to put into words how thankful I was and as I lay safe in my bed I resolved that from that point on I would check the weather forecast on a daily basis. I also threw in that I would know which signs meant motorways also.

The extravaganza in the sky lasted throughout the night and I woke up with each bang thinking I still had a tent to run out of …

The next morning I had such the strangest descent into Rijeka from where I had been ‘camped’. Things kept jumping off my bike onto the road – it was seriously freaking me out. First my solar charger jumped off which had been securely fastened to my bike then the whole Ortileb handlebar bag jumped off scattering all the contents across the road. I was glad to reach the sea.
Nobody on the coastline could believe I had camped out on top of ‘the’ hill as they had all been watching the sky in disbelief and too hadn’t been able to sleep in their homes from the fear the lights and sounds and caused in the night.

Got stuck in a Congo for 2 Days, Sierra, Switzerland …. it happens ….

Not many cyclists in the world can say I cycled to an Irish festival in Switzerland on the motorway and got stuck in a Congo for 2 days…

I’m one that is.

Twas my first motorway oopsie … I managed 20k which ended in the police, blue lights and sirens arriving. Apparently there had been call after call about a girl on a bicycle cycling down the Autoroute ….

I didn’t get fined …. one of the policemen was off to Edinburgh next month for a holiday…

For the next 20k after being put on the cycle lane (which runs alongside the motorway) I toyed with the idea of cycling back on the Autoroute to get the policeman’s number as he was extremely likeable….

So after my criminal activities on the motorway I thought I might as well continue and I sneaked onto a camp site to enjoy a shower! After which I was looking for a spot to wild camp for a night & came across an Irish Festival with FREE CAMPING!

Lots of half naked men in kilts – is that Irish??? I’m seriously not complaining though ….

So glad I had my criminal shower today or I don’t think people would be talking to me right now. Surrounded by happy, nutty, smiley people and the bagpipes!

On the end of the festival all were returning to their families and partners whilst I was cycling off on my own All of a sudden I was feeling quite alone.

So I made lots of calls to my friends back home in complete denial that Switzerland maybe wasn’t included in my mobile phone roaming minutes …. 

Slugs in the Night

The words I’m in a youth hostel tonight won’t mean much without an explanation of last nights shenanigans in my tent …

I had awoken in my one man tent at 2am needing a wee. Unzipping the tent, I jumped out sticking my feet into my sandals. Squish. Too my fckn horror a huge slug was wedged where my wee toe goes. I freaked out screaming & kicked the sandals off into the field. I was seriously freaked out & back in the tent I kept wet wiping my toes. Over and over. I put my legs back in my sleeping bag and felt a huge squidge against my leg. I’ve never moved so fast. It was a huge big black slug!!!! Inside my sleeping bag!!! I freaked out big time. Got rid of the slug & opened the bottle of red wine stashed in my panniers & got stuck in – 4am I was numb enough to go back to sleep. In the same sleeping bag. With slug goo that doesn’t come off.  Yes it was pretty much the full bottle of wine! Think that was an even worse moment than eating silk worms & grasshoppers in Thailand. So anyway I’m pretty fckn delighted I have a bed tonight!!!

I’m in a youth hostel tonight …… yaaaaaas!!!

The Hole

Almost could have said this was a perfect day.

A morning of 60km of cycling paths through nature and an afternoon of topping up the tan & swimming in Lake de Bourget – bliss!  The perfect day came to a halt when I got into my tent at night & checked the hole in my skirt.

To explain I’ll take you back 2 days into the start of this trip when I washed my skirt and was cycling with it draped over the front panniers to dry.  When I stopped for lunch I noticed part of skirt was over the tyre & subsequently there was a hole right in the middle of the bum area.  The hole was small enough that made the skirt still descent enough to wear ….. in my world.

But a couple of days later I lost all my pants on the Alp d Heuz descent. A loss for being the first down beating all the boy racers and overtaking some.  One of my fastest descents ever absolute pure determination down the 21 switch backs.  Anyway I lost my pants on the downhill.  They had been hanging from back panniers.

A few days on this morning as I left Chambery there was an incident (embarrassing) involving me, my skirt, red light at traffic lights, a gust of wind & a lorry driver waiting in opposite direction at lights. And no pants. But that was okay, it could’ve still been a perfect day even with that tiny indiscretion. The lake was beautiful & a sunset dinner. All day the Beatles tune was playing in my head All you need is love but the words had been replaced with All I need is pants. 60 km of cycling paths these words were on repeat in my mind.

Anyway I gets into tent at night checks the wee hole in skirt. OMFG!! It’s huge!!! A huge chunk of my skirt is missing at my bum!!! Which is bad enough but with no pants!!!  CRINGE CRINGE CRINGE!!!!