Hug-slap-hug

Friday 30th August 

Hello madam did you order the Sticky Toffee Sleeping bag with the Clam grub on the side? I should blame myself really, apples seem to thrive in hot and humid temperatures and I chose to stay the night at an orchard. The mistifiers must've came on half way through the night because I woke up feeling like double sided sticky tape. Good job I did wake up early as it seemed the farmers were out in force to pick the apples. My farmer must've just decided to sweat me out instead of come knocking on my tent but I was pretty pleased with my time from wake up to ride away of 14 minutes. Still continuing down the river, orchards soon turned to vineyards then back to orchards. Colours changing from green to red apples to big blue grapes and back to apples again. I got a bit carried away with cycling along the river and missed a shortcut which will mean I will have change my route slightly but completing 50 miles before half 11 was the sort of roll I didn't want to stop. I decided to grab some food in Rovereto then head east to Treviso past Vicenza. My first experience of an Italian supermarket was going to be fun, their diet of pizza, pasta, meat and cheese is pretty much all I ask for in a meal. I went a bit crazy on the bread and bought some rolls that looked like driftwood but tasted amazing and I unnecessarily got a loaf aswell so looks like ill be having sandwiches for dinner but it was cheap so all within the budget. When I got back to the bike I noticed a broken spoke on the rear wheel. I had heard a few strange noises on the way down but i did the same as anybody would when they hear a mechanical knocking sound on their vehicle and I turned my music up louder. Unfortunately a broken spoke on the rear wheel is a pain to change as you have to take off the gearset aswell and you need special tools for this. Luckily I've done it before and I had all the tools so I wheeled Nigel to a nearby park, had some lunch and then began to take off all the bags etc to change the spoke. The last time I did this I remembered the man who gave me the new spokes say there were two different sized spokes on my wheel. I even remembered when asking for extra spokes from the bike shop that I needed two different sized spokes and then when I came to replace the spokes guess what, I had all the same sized spokes! Typical again, I am 99% ready to change my spoke, every thing is spread in pieces and I'm now stuck in a park with the wrong sized spoke! It's a good job I don't have a schedule and its a good job I have developed the patience of a Venus fly trap because I realised my misfortune at 1pm and managed to find out that there's a velo shop down the road but in true Italian fashion it doesn't open up again till 4pm. So i sat on the bench and listened to 3 old ladies for 3 hours just sit and natter. The park had a pond and some fountains so it was actually quite a nice place to sit and soak up the sun. I witnessed a pigeon sit down on the grass for about an hour. I don't know if I'm normally too busy to witness such a thing but I've always seen pigeons walking around being busy, pestering you for food etc not this one, he just sat there, not even in a nest or with a mate, like a pigeon version of me without a broken bike by his side. I had a very strange conversation with an old man called George from Bucharest who I thought was offering to go get me a spoke from the shop while I stayed with my stuff. He had to go see his bambino then he was coming back at 4pm. I had no clue what to do. I've just sat in a park for 3 hours and have obtained the knowledge that there is definitely a velo shop just down the road but it doesn't open until 4 or half 3 (I asked another person) there also may or may not be a man called George coming back at 4 to help me out. What do you do in this situation? 

I waited till 4.15, I was pretty sure the velo shop would've been open earlier and I may even miss it being open if I waited too long. I asked the three ladies that had been chatting for the last 3 hours if they could watch my stuff. I knew they weren't going to be able to stop any opportunist robbers but I locked the bike up and took my most important bag and left the others by the bench. I couldn't think of much else to do and there was no sign of George. I legged it in the direction of the velo shop, saw a cyclist and asked her quickly to make sure I was on the right route and she sent me in completely the opposite direction as to what George had said but at least it was close. I bought 5 longer spokes off Stefano and legged it back. I was gone for about 4 minutes tops and the three old ladies which had now reduced to 2 (maybe one couldn't handle the pressure of looking after my things) were very impressed with my speed and continued to watch me work on the bike. A young lad with his mates then turned up. It was George's grandson and he said that George would be back asap, i told him not to worry but thanked him anyway and then i think he rang George up to tell him. After that the spoke was sorted in about 10 minutes tops with wheel on etc. Feeling exhausted but proud. I spun the wheel and it rotated like Elvis' legs. Great, either the wheel is completely gone due to the weight it's had to deal with or ill just tinker with the other spokes a little. I tinkered, improved the wheel slightly but it was no way perfect, a little bit more tinkering and "PING" another one goes. You have got to be kidding me? So off came the wheel, tyre let down, tyre off, inner tube off, gearset off, spoke out, new spoke in, gearset back on, inner tube on, tyre on, wheel on, tyre pumped up. The wheel still rotates like a fairground waltzer. It was now coming to 6pm, I have been in this park for over 5 hours which started off just a leisurely lunch. I have been working on a simple spoke change which has led to another simple spoke change for the past two hours, during that time multiple kids have approached me as kids do, but they may as well of been Martians as neither of us had a clue what each other was saying. The park had turned into a fairground of kids, dogs and old people all circled around one main Alien trying his hardest to keep calm and figure out what on earth he's going to do with a. His wonky back wheel and b. with sleeping arrangements as its starting to get dark. I decided to pack everything up and walk Nigel back to the velo shop and pray its still open. It was 6pm and luckily they didn't close till 7, incidentally it opened at half 2 after lunch so I had wasted 2.5 hours sat looking at a pigeon in the park but we won't talk about that. Stefano did a great job, he said the wheel wasn't perfect but that's because it's old. I looked at it and compared to what it was like it looked like a new wheel. I was so mentally drained I asked where I could get Internet and where I could stay the night. I realised i hadn't spoken to the parents in a while and i just couldn't face another risky ride to nothingness not knowing if i was going to find a good place to camp up or not. Stefano was great again and said the hostel around the corner had free wifi. Sorted, I pumped up the rear tyre but still proceeded to walk Nigel around the streets of Rovereto towards the hostel. After any broken spoke I find I have a terrible sense that I may break another spoke which I know I did but I thought if I jump back on him the chances increase somehow. Sounds stupid I know by either he was staying by my side till tomorrow morning at least. After walking around the town i was quite excited to have a shower, get myself sorted again and maybe even splash out on a beer with some guys from the hostel as the bars looked pretty decent and there were a lot people about. I got to the hostel and it was fully booked but they looked for the next cheapest for me. "The next cheapest is 50 euros," "50 euros!!! Sorry I thought I was looking for a hostel in Italy not a hotel in Switzerland! I looked at Nigel, he looked back at me, he knew he had to suck it up aswell. I got back on and with the upmost of delicate handling rolled him out of Rovereto on you guessed it, cobble streets and headed towards Vicenza. 

I expected a flattish road to Vicenza as I'm almost out of the Alps now. What did I get? Probably the steepest climb I've had. The Italians don't mess around with gradual inclines expertly dug into the side of the mountain. They stick a road on the edge of the mountain no matter how steep it is and when the edge of the road falls away they slap more cement on the side and hope for the best. Similar to the way we slap wet sand onto the side of a collapsed sandcastle. So the sun is setting fast, it's about 7.15. The road does not look like its going to lead me down into a beautiful valley where there are people waiting to echo me into their houses with a shower and warm towels and on top of that my rear wheel is pinging every couple of seconds. A pinging sound that if it isn't another broken spoke, it will be if I make one false move. The road continues to rise, cars continue to fly past, it continues to get darker and Nigel is crying out for help with every rotation. It's getting a bit much and the Alps are really tying to finish me. Around every corner I'm looking for just a roadside area to stop, not a chance. Maybe a section closer into the cliff face? There were a few very inviting mining holes or rest areas but under such an unstable cliff I would be an idiot to stay there. I look on the outside edge of the cliff, with such steep drops, chances of finding a big enough and flat enough tent area was very acute...

I saw a church on its own, stuck up on the edge of nowhere in the middle of nowhere. If this door opens I'm going in, I don't care if there's anyone in there I must be able to sleep here. The door was locked an as I tried it the bell began to ring so the bell ringer must've put it on auto ring and popped off down the pub or something. I thought well I will camp up around the tiny back area it has that over looks a huge valley dropping hundreds of metres below. Luckily I'm fine with heights and the cold but there was no way I was camping up on the beautifully laid cobble floor surrounding the church. I jumped back on Nigel and I could see there was a slight downhill section and a few houses where I had decided I was going to stay no matter what. I had already wasted too much precious time on the church and car headlights were starting to come on etc. I saw a spot by a wood shed opposite a block of 4 houses, 2 apartments on top of each other. Rung the bell and a man answered the door very confidentially and walked straight out to greet me with his mouth half full. I show him my map and he put his glasses on to inspect. I asked about the possibility of camping over by the woodshed on a bit of grass opposite his house. As I did this the lady above opened the door and he consulted her and gave me the thumbs up. At last! A change of fortune. As I began to set myself up the gentleman's wife came out and spoke to me in Italian, gesticulating whether I wanted food or a beer. She very quickly realised I did not understand a word of Italian but I would love food and a beer and I told her when I had set up my tent I would go knock on her door. Amazing! Just goes to show you don't have to speak the same language to be hospitable and know what someone wants. I knocked on the door armed with my notebook, pen and my phrases. Before I could even get through the door she rubbed her hand down my face like a loving mother (i think she thought the dirt would rub off easily) and then asked if I wanted to the toilet and to clean up. I must've looked an absolute mess, mentally and physically drained and having worked on a very dirty bike for the best part of 3 hours I can not for life of me work out why anybody would've wanted to invite me into their home to feed me. She did though, and i couldn't of dreamt of anything better. Soup to start with a Peroni then bread, prosciutto, parmesan and another Peroni to finish. Anything would've tasted amazing but after the roller coaster of a day I had I was just happy to still be fighting fit with half a bike that was doing the same. The lady from upstairs came down, she happened to be her sister. Gabriella and Guido were the couple that took me in and neither knew a word of English but we managed to work things out with drawings and a big red translator they that Gabriella must've dug out from beneath the stairs. 9pm came and I said goodnight as I could see they were getting tired and again I'm left in yet more disbelief in the hospitality I've received. In coaching we are taught a technique of praise-discipline-praise or hug-slap-hug. I've had that sort of day. Nigel is by no way perfect and I may have to try and find the rogue noise making spoke tomorrow but amazingly if you look at the start of the day and look at the end it's been a success. The guts in the middle I would like to forget about but I won't because I would never of met Gabriella and Guido otherwise. Today I woke up with an aim to spark a conversation with someone, I thought this would come via the youth hostel and a possible night out with like minded similar aged people that may even be able to speak a little English. Instead it came via the nicest couple of non English speaking, 60-70 something's that I have ever met. My word has it been tough but this day has been another very special day. 

Saved by a "Helmut"

Thursday 29th August

I woke up to the sound of the nearby river rushing past my tent. The sun was out and my sleep was a lot more bearable than the freezing one previous. My day began like crystal maze with a personal physical challenge. I knew the sausages the night before we're a bad idea and now I was going to have to pay for it. Just a quick warning, toilet story coming up so skip to the next paragraph if you're easily grossed out or you want to keep the angelic persona of me (that is, if I even had one to start) As I realised late last night I was actually on the out skirts of a camping site so I thought this should be no trouble whatsoever. I resisted the bushes as there would surely be a toilet block on site. I went for a little walk or should i say, a wee waddle and sure enough there were. Get in there, went to the first toilet, locked. So went to the ladies instead. In my time in this area of Europe I've realised it's ok to use both and everybody does. Most of the toilets have a communal sink and stand up toilet area anyway with just two separate cubicles. So got in the ladies, no paper. Brilliant I thought, but there was one more block about 50 metres away so I went for a quick hobble to this one. In the men's, no paper, what sort of camp site is this! In the woman's, no paper again but by this time I had to go so just went with it and decided on an exit strategy whilst sat down. I should've just gone in the bushes I thought, at least I would've had resources at my disposal, could've used the bandage again or at worst the freezing cold river was a better option as to the situation I've found myself in now! After all business was finished and I had established there was nothing I could use in the cubicle I thought a quick dash to the showers next door would be the best solution. There was a man waiting outside, he didn't care about using the woman's either so with my best John Wayne impression, I gave him a nod and walked around to the showers. Typical, they were on the meter but I tried it anyway and without any money in the machine it would allow you a fine dribble. My experience travelling through Asia had led me to this situation and even though this was not Asia, Italy was proving to be up there with the most unhygienic. A few handfuls later I was done but still had nothing to dry with. This is where my choice to wear black clothes that has been questioned by many due to the heat I will experience, has come up trumps. Put it this way, ask any lady with a more fuller more curvaceous figure, black hides a world of sins. I hastily walked back to the bike to grab my one remaining bar of soap as I left my first at the office of SCORT. Got straight down to the river and scrubbed my hand with more intensity than the British Curling team. The river was absolutely freezing as its coming straight off the mountain so it did a good job in numbing my hand and numbing the shameful act that no person should go through at 8 in the morning. 

After that, it was all down hill really. No literally it was all down hill! 50km all the way to Merano without using the pedals. There was a cycle path that ran straight down the middle of the valley with the river running one side and Orchards the other. Every now and then you would have to cross over the river or ride across cobble streets through a little village to get back on the tarmac cycle path the otherside. It was a very relaxing and pleasant ride that was a reward for the hard work i had put in over the last 2 days. I passed about 100 cyclists today and have given up nodding to everyone. I must've received about 5 nods back and my dislike for road cyclists continues as they don't ride in single file, they are very impatient and when they approach from behind they dont say anything. I have experimented today with the best alerts as I don't have a bell. I've whistled but found that too rude, I've sung or coughed rather loudly on approach but that doesn't seem to provoke urgency to get out the way. In the end I have resorted to my own human horn. Those of you that know me, know that I can make a comedic clown horn noise with my mouth, so for the last 2 hours I've been honking  at people of all ages as I powered down into Merano.

I'm still unsure of the language. I bought a baguette and the man said hello (English), then the price came to ein euro funf und neunzig (German) then he said gracie (Italian) and then ciao (which is what they've been saying in Switzerland!) So I'm just sticking to pointing and drawing pictures put it that way.

At lunch i sat down and took in the surroundings. Merano is quite a nice place, i would've taken a few more pictures had the batteries on my camera not ran out. I think i would go back to Merano when i'm pushing 70, its that sort of place. I would also make sure i'm in a wheelchair with a fit person to push me or fit enough to handle the unbearable cobble streets which are the subject of a complaint of mine. Not only are they a pain to produce individually, a time drain to build and an all round liability to last any longer than 10 years. They're also a pain in the rear end for cyclist and possible bike breaker and a severe tripping hazard for the likes of old people and my mum (who tends to trip on flat land) O.K they look nicer than tarmac but come on, lets be practical! After my lunch I went on the search for a bike shop or velo shop. The first I found looked promising. It was big, had a lot of bikes, alot of accessories and it even had a front rack! Unfortunately not one that would fit Nigel but the man from the shop showed me another shop opposite that would open up again at half 2. I waited for 40 minutes or so and then I gave the second shop, seventh in total, a punt. First impressions promising, they had a rack that I could work with. I kept the parts from the two previous broken racks so I had nuts, bolts and brackets up to my ears I just had to make sure it would be strong enough and not rattle like the last. The lady at the shop was very helpful, she kept going back into the store room to see what she had lying around. In the end I had a choice of three, one I could work with but wasn't perfect as it was for bikes with front suspension, second two small but the third, the third! As if this is some kind of children's fairy tale, the third was just right. I had eventually found a shiny new bracket that I fitted there in the shop whilst talking to the owner about football and Southampton etc. I was on top of the world when I had finally screwed it all together and boy was it solid. As I went to thank the owner Helmut, with all of my heart he was actually searching events in Southampton. I think when I get back he should come over to stay because when I asked how much it cost he said absolutely nothing! Unbelievable! Such a nice guy and also a massive thanks goes to the other workers as I think I was getting in their way a little when I was fitting the rack in their busy shop. "Hey English boy, you need to move." kind of gave me the impression I was in the way. As I left Bikepoint in Merano I was just a ball of happiness, I didn't care where I was cycling too. I pumped up both tyres with the luxury of free air and set out for Bolzano. I am effectively following the river all the way to the mouth so riding was again very easy. Surrounded by orchards with the sun setting to my right and Nigel with a new sturdy front rack I felt on top of the world. Oncoming cyclists still posed a slight problem as i'm certain Italians are the least vigilant people on the planet. Not just because one trashed my water bottle but a group of them (road cyclists specifically travel in pairs or herds) did not see a big black mass of bike and bags coming towards them. I shouted something very quickly and English it actually came out sounding Italian and they soon got out the way. One guy who was doing it right though was cycling no handed whilst playing the ukelele, that'll be my next adventure! I didn't manage to get to an area of just farming but found an orchard. There was nobody around and as it started to get quite dark i decided I may have to risk the orchard for the night and get up early tomorrow. Not ideal but I don't know any Italian and Italians haven't a clue where I'm from with my mix match of words so I'm sure ill get away fine in a cloud of confusion. Tomorrow my aim is to get out my pad of local knowledge and phrases that I prepared before I left and wow the locals with my excellent dialect. This should be interesting...

Nursing Nigel

Wednesday 28th August

It's fair to say that sleeping rough at an unused ski resort half way up a mountain in the middle of the Alps any time of year is going to be cold. Last night was freezing! It rained all night and as I cocooned myself in my sleeping bag without anything as much as nose poking out I just wanted the sun to come up. I was actually quite warm, had a few layers on and had periods of 1-2 hours sleep every now and then but was dreading the cold clothes to put on in the morning. The last three days I've had to endure cold wet socks with cold wet shoes. I don't wish that on anybody at 8am so I try to sleep on the socks in between my bag and my mat. This doesn't really work and either way the shoes are going to be cold and wet so the best thing for it is to just suck it up and get riding. I ended up having the latest start as it was so cold, I finally peeled the sleeping bag off at half 10. Right, I thought, today was going to be smooth rider day. I'll give the chain an oil, pump up the rear tyre as much as I could and set off with the positive attitude that in 8 hours time I will be looking for a place to camp up again. As I finished pumping up the rear tyre I pulled the pump away and air came gushing out, the pump had got stuck so I pumped it up again but the same thing happened. Getting pretty annoyed now, so I pumped it up again and as I removed the pump the same thing happened. I wiggled the valve slightly and the tube had split just where the valve was. Not exactly the start to this day I was really looking for but i wasn't too disheartened as now I had a double threat on the back wheel. My tyres are panaracer, supposed to be unpunctureable and now they were teaming up with some new "slime" inner tubes that I've been kindly sponsored by, also unpunctureable. If there's any combination you want underneath the weight your about to put on top then it's this combination. I chucked the split inner tube so saved a bit of weight there and I had to unfortunately say goodbye to a couple of water bottles and a t-shirt. The t-shirt was a gift from BSC Old Boys but personally I think I have to many clothes anyway so that had to go. One plastic bottle and one bottle which was a gift from SCORT so sorry guys that's gone aswell. I have a sentimental thing for my current two water bottles as one in particular has been with me since I got Nigel so he's travelled a bit. I pumped up the new tube as much as I could with a little pump and just said to myself, just ride smooth and you'll get there. By riding smoothly I don't just mean avoid the bumps. I mean avoid the stones and bumps, don't traverse, cycle straight and put power through the pedals by keeping the legs straight. Every time I rotate, ensure that one leg flows with the other and make sure I'm not pushing more with my right and don the position of arms in and closer together pulling down on the handlebars and not flicking the bike side to side like you're in a sprint finish with Chris Hoy for the gold medal. This way, you feel your whole body working with the bike all the way down your spine, its like you're one machine! A few cycling tips for you there. So I kept this position all day, through or over however you want to put it, 3 entire mountain passes. I've completely forgotten their names but they ran from Davos to St Maria and have actually taken me into the beautiful land of Italy! As I cycled up the first pass the weather was overcast, I had layers so was feeling good just a little annoyed that I didn't set off till 12! The pass was steep, windy when you turned back on yourself and the light rain the further up you went froze your fingers to the handlebars. I could've complained. Chris Harding a few years ago probably would've complained but then I saw a man doing the same thing as me on a hand bike. He was laying in a fully horizontal position with just his back slightly raised and doing it all with his upper body. As i struggled slowly past him he turned with a big smile on his face, "Salut!" I just thought to myself, WOW! No matter how hard you think things are, no matter how much you could complain there's always someone worse off than you but not only that, showing you how it should be done. What an inspiration that was and with that inspiration, the first pass was smashed. The sun came out for the second pass and I stopped at a garage to pump my tyres up properly. On the roads, the other side of the white lines are basically gutters for all the rainfall. It's very hard to stay on the white line with cars and lorries flashing past you etc so every now and then I ride into the gutter and have to come back out of it. With a heavy load and flattish tyres this is not good and I wince every time I do it. After pumping the tyres up till it said "solid as a rock" on the pressure gauge, Nigel instantly felt like a knew bike and I had a boost of confidence that the Alps will be finished in no time. Thankfully the amount of cars on the roads reduced so I could have a look around at the beautiful scenery for the first time but still focus on the smooth riding aswell. The third pass was a little easier than the first two but I knew I mustn't lose focus. I stopped just before it to take in the views and got speaking to a man called Dom from Basel, who was alone just cycling around on his motorbike. He took a picture of me and will hopefully be following this blog and it will be the first picture of myself and Nigel together, very romantic!

I had planned to stop at the Stelvio pass, a very famous winding road that I just wanted to do to say I did it and because I saw it on Top Gear once. As I got to the turning I spoke to two Germans first who were very knowledgeable of the local routes. They said I had to pay to go through the tunnel towards Livorgno and I had to take a bus as they didn't allow people to cycle through the tunnel. They said that St Maria wasn't far and that was one of my last places to use my precious Swiss francs. They also said that to get to the Stelvio pass its about 1700m straight up with no long flats to help so I thought its best in Nigel's condition that I go towards my next stop of Merano so that meant heading towards St Maria instead. It didn't take long to coast down into St Maria from nearly 2200m and luckily my breaks didn't decide to give up as things could've been very interesting. I spent my last 12.95 swiss francs on 2kg of spaghetti, some soup, 4 sausages and a variety pack of luncheon meats. It came to 13 dead on but I was sure my maths was correct, the lady let me off anyway. About 2 minutes down the road I could see the Italian border, I had done it! I knew I had to be a smooth rider today and like I said not just dodge the rocks, I'm talking Barry White on a water slide eating a galaxy chocolate bar kind of smooth. I was so pleased I did it, I had completely forgotten about the next stage of actually finding a place to stay the night etc.

As I entered Italy a cloud of fear almost instantly hung over me. I was so comfortable in Switzerland with the language and all of a sudden it dawned on me I don't have a clue about Italian! I was sure it wasn't going to be a straight change though, surely there would be a hybrid language in between, I mean we can't just forget our Swiss friends who literally live just a roll away. I was honestly scared, what do I ask the farmers now? How do you say, "do you speak English?" In Italian? How do I even say hello? Arriva derci? Or is that to elaborate? So for the first 10 minutes cycling I went for the universal nod, got a few nods back too so I was happy with that! My first impressions of Italy were pretty poor to be honest. Out of nowhere it was beginning to rain and I had just Bungy corded my socks out to dry so wasn't too happy about that. The roads were terrible, massive cracks straight along the road lengthways meant that focus and smooth riding were back on the cards. Why couldn't they make their roads like they've made their footballing defence for the last, I don't know how many decades! Then to cap it all off as the rain starts to spit painful droplets into my eyes and cars continue to whizz past me, my plastic bottle of water flies out from under the Bungy cord into the road. The two vigilant motorcyclists dodge it with ease as the bottle ends up in the middle of the road and people don't drive or ride In the middle of the road do they? I stopped the bike and as I got off to go and retrieve it from up the hill some clown comes tearing road the corner and goes over it causing it to explode! Cheers Italiano! At least it wasn't my favourite one anyway! I wanted to stop soonish, I had already seen the sign for my next stop tomorrow of Merano and its only 70km so i was very content with my days work. I saw a guy on a rocky road near some fields trimming the grass so I thought I might go over and test the water with what language they actually do speak on the Swiss-Italian border. "Hello?" I said, questioning my own greeting. I did the usual thing in showing him my map to tell him what I was doing and he seemed to understand. He gestured to follow him and he said "here camping site!" I then saw two caravans through the trees, it was actually a camping site that I had picked out but with no signs at all. I didn't want to pay so I used what I think is perfect dialect, "sorry I have niente dinera" he didn't seem to care, the bit where he pointed for me to stay was hardly a "plot" anyway. So ill be up early tomorrow and that'll be that! Hopefully Merano will have the racks I'm looking for but if they don't, I have every faith in my boy Nigel after smashing the Alps today!

It never rains, it pours

Tuesday 27th August

Pathetic Fallacy, meaning: where the weather echoes the feelings of the main character. One of two things I remember from GCSE English, that and onomatopoeia. Unfortunately for me today it rained and it rained a lot. It all started very well. I just had to endure one cow bell as I woke up on my trampoline and I could see that the cloud was looming low around the Alps so I tightened up my sleeping bag, rolled over and woke up again an hour later. The coldest morning yet so I systematically got ready in the sleeping bag and Brigit had shown me the toilet I could use so had a wash and was feeling ready for what Brigit warned was going to be a very hard days climbing. I said my goodbyes and got back on the trusty cycle path that followed along the major road to Davos. Stopped for a spot of breakfast, couple of croissants did the job and pushed on along the cycle path that gradually peeled away from the main road and followed along side the river. I was fine with this even though the track wasn't tarmac, I thought Nigel would have to experience a few rocks at some point. After around 2 miles away from the road the track split in two. One way, a very steep up hill that there was no way of riding but it led to a tunnel by a railway that I thought would be a more flatter option eventually. Did i take that way or the other route that followed the river and meandered away from me into some trees. I went with the push up the hill. Face to the handlebars Nigel had doubled in weight with how ridiculously steep this hill was. Sweat pouring off my head I eventually got to the tunnel which ran parallel with the railway's tunnel. I cycled for about 20m out the other side of the tunnel and my path turned into hillside and the railway turned into a bridge that crossed over a very sudden gap in the mountain. Back down to the other route it is then! Being very careful not to crash on the way down I eventually got back to the path that followed along the river. Cycled for an extra 500m or so and at the exact same place as the railway bridge, the cycle path had collapsed into the river! This is annoying I thought, looks like I have to go all the way back to the town where I had breakfast to reevaluate the situation. If the cycle path is closed then how am I going to get to Davos? As I again very carefully tried to nurse Nigel back down the rocky path I had cycled up I heard a twang at the front. Oh no, spokes gone! I've had one broken spoke before and they're by no means ideal. On closer inspection it was worse. The rack that I knew would fail as I couldn't do anything to stop it from failing permanently had done so in the worst place possible. I wasn't close to a town, the town that I was close to wasn't big by any means but at least it wasn't raining I thought and its not like I have a time limit. I took the pannier off and eventually made a backpack out of it with some parachord. My initial elaborate attempts failed miserably so I resorted to a one strapper just like all the cool kids had in year 7. A couple of people were hiking by and I sent them back as the way was shut and they said ah well we will just follow the path on the otherside of the river. There you have it then, that was my plan C! I got to the other side and that soon went wrong, overgrown and unsuitable for Nigel forced me to go all the way back to the town I had breakfast in. 3 hours had gone by and I had travelled about 9 miles in total but most of that was going back on myself. I had to sort the pannier/backpack design as it just wasn't comfortable for what was still a 25 mile slog to Davos to find a cycle shop. I decided to bungy the front pannier on the back with the tent and sleeping bag and nurse Nigel all the way to Davos. After cycling around 10 miles on a road that a local said bikes could go on although it became very clear that the drivers didn't want me on,  I arrived at a small town.  I asked a lady where the nearest cycle shop was and she said in Klosters which was 10km before Davos and a town that Brigit had mentioned that the Royal Family had a skiing holiday at.  By Royal Family, I do mean Prince Charles and Harry etc and not Ricky Tomlinson. First mistake of the day, getting my hopes up about a town that's good enough for the Royal Family selling front Racks for panniers, only set my self up for a disappointment I'm afraid. After waiting till 2pm as they have 2 hours for lunch it seems,  I went to two Cycle shops and nothing. "In Davos?" I asked, possibly was the reply, to be fair to them they didn't get my hopes up as much as the previous old lady did. I asked for the direction to Davos and the man replied with directions I'm sure would sound ridiculous anywhere other than in the Alps. "Straight down this road, take a right that you can't miss with the sign saying Davos and then up!" He wasn't wrong, it was straight up. By this time the rain was getting heavier, temperature colder, visibility darker and air thinner. Hopes of finding something in Davos were not high and by now my feet and hands were freezing. The sound of screeching brakes, car spray flashing past me, lorry engines all combined with the weather put me in a situation I really wasn't enjoying and the main shame was that this was the Alps, a place of beauty when the weather is right but not in this case. I survived the pass to Davos and arrived cold and wet. The first cycle shop, no luck but there were two others she said that could help. The second, a "specialized" shop that I didn't hold my breathe for because specialized are more of a mountain bike make. The guy there was really helpful. I had a coffee, he thought of different options but the trouble was that they don't get their orders in until Thursday and all the cycle shops were away Thursday and Friday at an exhibition. He was positive though and he lifted the bike and thought it could handle the weight. I'm sure Nigel handled a similar load cycling 900miles to Inverness which I happened to complete the same

milestone today incidentally. This time though, I need to be able to do a further 10,100ish and so no front rack wasn't helping me. We had a sit down to see what route I will take out of the Alps and the guy at specialized was very knowledgeable and has really helped me with my next 2 days. Before I left he stopped me and gave me a beer and 2 bars of chocolate, "you may need some energy tomorrow" not only this but he gave me a heads up on where I could camp for the night. An absolutely top bloke that I'm gutted I didn't get the name of. As I pushed Nigel to the third and final shop I really wasn't holding my breath. The man looked at the bike and the outcome was as i had expected. No rack, exhibition on Thursday, they don't really specialise in touring equipment mainly mountain bikes. He then proceeded to tell me everything that was wrong with Nigel. Taking a completely different attitude to the last shop, I was shown all the best bikes, all the best equipment and all the high prices. This is great I thought but let's stick to the first issue, I need a rack. Now I'm in noway under the illusion that nothing will break on Nigel but if I were a man that wasn't going to so something just incase something may go wrong then I wouldn't leave my house and I certainly wouldn't be trying to ride to South Africa!! To be fair to the man he did try to help but I was aware that the next few days especially I have to be the smoothest rider and probably be the one with someone looking over him if I am going to get out the Alps, let alone get to South Africa. I said to the man, "thankyou for your help, you never know until you try and I will just have to pray that bit harder" with that I left. Back into the rain and back up another pass towards a ski resort called Pische. The specialized guy said there was a sheltered area up there, as its never used in the summer months nobody will be there so I should be good. I cycled under a car park shelter where there were a few unused caravans and cars probably being stored there and just rolled out my mat by an old cable car. I laid all my panniers out and cooked some pasta and just lay there thinking. Do I lose some weight now? Is there anything I can get rid of to lighten the load? As the rain continued to pour down, I drank my beer and thought about the last man's attitude. Maybe his is right, maybe the gear I've started with isn't good enough but there's no point crying about t now. I can get out of the Alps in 3 days max, just ride smoothly like today and ill be ok. One things for sure it's not going to be easy but I always knew that. The Alps are proving rough, but I'm made of stronger stuff, I just pray Nigel is too.

Liechten-klein

Monday 26th August 

Today i was woken up by cow bells, possibly the most annoying noise at 7am apart from a standard Nokia alarm. There were a lot of cow bells aswell, it sounded like 100 wind chimes made from cutlery and mess tins in a gale force storm. I had had a good sleep though so I was ready and prepared for what was going to be the hardest riding day yet. The "pain event" as I will call it from now on began with me doing three things at once, who said men can't multi task? I had to ride Nigel up an endless hill whilst avoiding large clumps of poo that must've started off coming from a Stallion and ended up a Shetland there was that much. All whilst trying to get a bit of corn on the cob out my teeth! That'll teach me for testing it for the farmer! By the way I had previously knocked to say thankyou to the old couple but no one was in. Two hours later and the corn was still there and so was the hill, the poo had stopped thankfully. I couldn't understand it, the houses on the hillside were pointing down, the railings by the road where all aiming down as if I should be freewheeling but the river by my side was running towards me and my legs were struggling with every rotation. Was I going uphill or down? I couldn't get into a rhythm and with every crest of a hill I would turn the corner to see yet another hill, there really wasn't any sky left! If there were any doubts that I wasn't in the Alps all I had to do was look down to my right and I could see a ski jump and ski lifts. I would watch the cars up ahead to see if when they turned they disappeared downwards or upwards, it was always another up! Legs almost stationary I trundled on taking every white dashed line as it came. In France I used to guess how many dashes until the crest then count them to see if I was right, I got it pretty much spot on most times. I couldn't do that here because there was no crest to be seen! I had to stop for lunch so decided to park up in a bus stop (my favourite place) for some jam sandwiches. I hadn't seen many people for about 3 hours other than in the shop where I bought the bread. As I sat at the bus stop I saw 3 lads, must've only been about 7 years old walking up the otherside of the road. One of them did a knock and run on the house opposite me and all 3 of them hid behind the bushes at the front of the garden. I laughed as the old man came out like a scene from the film "Dennis" shouted something in swiss and literally picked the lad up by the ear and took him into the house. Then I stopped laughing, called over to the other boys to see if they knew the old man but they didn't understand me. About 5 minutes had past and I got my bottle ready to go over and "ask for more water" then all of a sudden the kid came out with a bit of a cheeky grin on his face and scarpered off into the fields behind me. I have no clue what the old man did but if it was me, I would've showed the kid some better hiding places or explain the second part of a knock and run procedure a bit clearer!

After this I continued to push hard up the hill from hell and I eventually reached the top. A great sign to see for a cyclist is a little triangle with a percentage facing down the slope! 10% is a decent slope and I couldn't wait to bump up my average speed. I don't know how long I was going for but it was a long time! All the way down into a town called Buchs, the view again opening up to reveal a massive valley that seemed to be surrounded by mountains leaving me completely breathless. From there it was just a few more miles to Vaduz and another country to tick off, Liechtenstein. Vaduz was pretty boring really. Nobody there and nothing to do, so I rode to the footy stadium took a picture, stopped at a McDonald's where I wasted my free hour of Internet talking to a South African lady and then decided to push on. I had planned to stay a rest day in Vaduz but even with a strained left leg I would rather head toward Davos and give myself a shorter day tomorrow then have to twiddle my thumbs in Liechtenstein. After speaking to a man at a petrol station I was again heading in the right direction and coming up against yet another incline. Luckily this one was not so bad, took me about 30 minutes to get to the top but this time the view was even more amazing. I love mountainous areas and I'm a firm believer that to get the real quality in life you have to put in the hard graft. This philosophy is certainly true with cycling and before I could get my camera out to take it all in I was flying down the smoothest meandering road leading into a beautiful town called Meilenfeld. The smells and sights that I wanted to have in France. I was getting in this area by the bucket load. That's one of the hardest parts about cycling aswell, either not being able to afford to stop or afford to buy all the amazing food you ride past each day.  I pushed harder towards Davos. Now every time I see a road sign I have to say to myself "green good, blue bad but not in this country" Even though the sign to Davos was blue I wasn't allowed on it but luckily there was a much safer cycle path that ran alongside it. This also meant that I didn't have to risk anymore close shaves with the slightly less considerate drivers in this area! 

Thankfully the Swiss invested in some tunnelling equipment otherwise my route would probably be twice as long and twice as hard. I approached the tunnel all set to play the tunnel game where you hold your breath for the whole time you're in darkness. I went for it and after about 15 seconds my legs seized up, i felt like i was going to pass out and I realised I wasn't David Blaine. The tunnel was 240metres long! After this I was happy with my days work and I could see a rain cloud ahead looming over the mountains so was on the look out for the perfect farmhouse. I chose one with a few fields out front, corn and something else and I could see some grass fields to the side. I knocked on the door and the son answered but to save any issues I asked for his parent. A lovely lady called Brigit came to the door and although not fluent in English, she could understand me pretty well. At this point the husband Simon returned home from work and they spoke a little and I ended up getting a guided tour of multiple out houses that they had. They owned around 20 cows but they were all up in the Alps so the barns were clean and tidy with only a hint of smell. A smell which honestly wouldn't even come close to tarnishing my sleeping bag but I didn't tell her that. She finally took me to an upstairs section of another barn where they had a trampoline, some machinery and some haystacks. "Is the trampoline ok?" She asked. It's perfect I thought, didn't have to set up the tent and would be a pretty comfortable nights sleep. We then talked for a bit about family and the farm and they make the nicest cheese she said. Only an hour or so later as I was laying down writing this blog the son came up with some of their cheese, some bread and a piece of glazed fruit pie that was delicious. She wasn't wrong about the cheese either and she had cling filmed some more up for me, I'm guessing to take with me tomorrow. That piece didn't touch the sides either and I couldn't say "danke schon" enough to her but I think she could tell I was happy with the two plates returned basically licked clean. I said goodnight and went off to my bouncy bed. Another adventure complete and yet more evidence of the kindness of strangers. Good times.

Can't handle the rack!

Sunday 25th August

Two weeks ago today I set off from Bishopstoke, Eastleigh and there was no way I could predict that I was going to be waking up in a bus stop two weeks later but I did. As I said before, it was more like a house really but the bed was absolutely horrible and half way through the night I was forced to get my mat out. The mat transformed it and after that I managed to get a good 6 hours sleep in the end. Today I was going to do things right as far as navigation was concerned. I went back to my favourite wifi hang out, wrote down all the major landmarks I needed to know on order to get straight to the training ground and within the hour I was there! The facility is 3 year old and its quite impressive really. There were 14 full sized pitches, most of them artificial and fenced all around and there was also one baseball field (never knew the Swiss were ballers!) When I arrived there were lots of matches and training going on as its a public sports arena but during the week before 6:30pm FC Zurich Academy have it for all their age groups. I walked up to the club house and changing room building to check out what was going on on their digital schedule. It was great, told you what teams were playing, what age group, what pitch and in what competition. I arrived at 12 and wasn't meeting Heinz till 2pm so watched the Zurich U18 girls which were decent. My dad says women only score "bum" goals in the way that every shot seems to deflect of their bums as they turn to block the shot and he's been proven right many times but no bum goals today. At one point I sat on a wall that divided one pitch where the U14s were playing and the baseball pitch. It was very bizarre to have "go on baby, hit first baby, you can do it baby" in one ear and "ja das ware klasse Matthias, sehr gut!" In the other. I cycled around for quite a while asking different Zurich coaches if they had seen Heinz. Heinz is the head of the academy so I was looking for a track suited man or possibly suited man with Zurich badge stitched into the jacket, that sort of thing. Nobody had seen him and I was starting to think that I has cycled all this way for nothing. A man then came up to me, "who are you? Chris Harding?" The man was wearing jeans, a Harley Davidson leather jacket with an ear ring that was a loop with an arrow dangling down, basically looking positively George Michael-esque. "Heinz?" I said. "Yes, yes Heinz Russheim" Blimey I thought, you get frowned upon at Saints for wearing a different brand of socks and this joker has turned up having jumped straight out of YMCA. We got talking about philosophies of football and the Zurich Academy works whilst watching quite a testy affair between the U15s and a team near Italy, Ticio I think they were called. What Heinz said I thought was spot on and the U15s won a game that turned a bit nasty with one of their players getting sent off but despite being under pressure the whole second half they scraped at 2-1 win then unfortunately rubbed it in a bit after the final whistle. Heinz was very honest with me and would've preferred them to lose because he believes in playing god football and is looking for development not 3 points. Clearly a very layed back man with what seemed a good footballing head on him was pretty gutted to hear that I was leaving that day. He was more then happy to have me there for a few days as he said he done previously with head of academies from other professional teams. This attitude is not always the case in professional football but I thought it was great and maybe one day I will return for longer and do a bit coaching there also. 

I left the training ground with a huge air of freedom. I had completed all my European scheduled stops and I had just myself, Nigel and the road to contend with now. Whatever path I walked along now was the adventure and it may lead to good footballing experiences or it may just lead me to the next stop but I was happy to have no ties. I like to make sure I'm on the right path and the next stop on my list is the next sign ill see when I wake up the next day. I got to this situation at about 6pm and knowing I wasn't going to make it all the way to Vaduz in Liechtenstein I decided to find a house to knock and camp near their front garden. Again the land opened up to reveal beautiful mountains, lush green grass and rolling fields. I knocked on the door of a tiny little house next to some cow fields and an elderly couple opened the door.  Unfortunately neither could understand English but I got the thumbs up to camp after explaining what I was doing with the little German I know. The man was trying to say something along the lines of don't blame us if the police come I thought but I wasn't to worried about that, I've dealt with police before. I just said to him, "you gefahrlich?" Which means, you dangerous? He said no so that was alright with me!

As I relieved Nigel from his duties I noticed a mini disaster had struck. Ever since day one the front racks have been a right pain and after just two weeks, both racks have broken each with a different type of break. I'm so annoyed, I have at least 22 more weeks and the weights of both front panniers are nowhere near the maximum of 10kg that the racks can supposedly handle. One break i fixed quite convincingly with a cable tie and duct tape and shouldn't really pose a problem with regards to carrying the pannier. The other rack however which I previously supported, has half split where a bolt screws in and if it fails all the way around which is just a matter of time then I could be in trouble! Now I have to ask the question do I go for as long as I can with the sort of fixed rack or do I change them fe new ones straight away. I can't keep changing things if they break as I may not be able to find replacements. For the time being I will keep an eye out for cycle shops and see how they hold up. This all happens just as I begin to tackle the hardest section of cycling that I will probably do in the whole of Europe over the next three days. From here in Rapperswil to Vaduz then onto Davos and Moreno via the Stelvio Pass. This should be pretty spectacular!

A day of poor decisions

Saturday 24th August

The day started with the local church bell going absolutely nuts. I don't know if the bell ringer was told to take the minutes of the weekly church meeting but he certainly rang them. Anyway, I got my things packed up and wandered over to the farmhouse to tap on the kitchen window to say thankyou but nobody was home. It was 8am and I don't think farmers lay in past 6am do they?

On the road my legs felt heavy and cumbersome. Cycling to Zurich as the crow flies was impossible so I found myself cycling up and down and back and forth in directions I had already been in which is unbelievably frustrating. First hour down and I had gone nowhere but my legs were ready to stop for the rest of the day, this was not good. I had written a list of all the places leading to Zurich from Basel and I hadn't recognised any of them. Still, I continued to head for the sun and hoped a bus stop with a map on helped me in some way. I eventually arrived at a cross-roads, right was a town called Aarau (I knew this was a bit south of Zurich) and left was a town called Frick, ironically this is what I said a lot when coming to most cross-roads. A lady was trimming her garden hedge on the corner of the cross-roads so I asked her, "excuse me, what way is the easiest way to Zurich?" "Well it depends what you mean by easiest, do you want shorter or do you want easier?" That said it all really, there was no easy way. I opted for the longer flatter route and as it happened I got to Frick in no time. From then on I could follow my list of towns all the way into Zurich at a really good pace. After such a hard morning, things eventually came into place and at one point I was cycling hard up a hill with trees and other hills surrounding me. All of a sudden, with one slight corner at the crest of the hill everything opened up. My peripheral vision was filled with blue skies over looking rolling hills overlooking the town of Baden situated deep into the valley. With a long winding dissent ahead of me I cranked up the gears and let out a war cry, "waaaaaahhhoooooo" the wind against my face combined with the unbelievable view made the hairs all over my body stand up. Then in my ear came the live version of "times like these" by the foo fighters and everything just seemed to get too much emotionally and the tears started to fall. If ever there was the most apt song and its lyrics it was right there and right then. This was definitely a moment I will remember for a long time to come.

Previously to starting my trip I have been emailing a coach from FC Zurich called Heinz Russheim. I told him when I was in Basel that I would be arriving in Zurich Saturday but was unsure whether I could get to him until Sunday and asked when he was available. The last e-mail I received he had replied saying yes from 2pm. I was a bit gutted as I didn't think I was gong to make 2pm on Saturday but as it happened I made great time and arrived just outside Zurich at 1:30pm. Great I thought, I thought I knew roughly where Heinz said the training ground was so I was well happy I could fit everything in one one day! The weather forecast was unfortunately spot on and the rain began to fall and get progressively heavier. I pulled up at the traffic lights alongside an elderly man in a poncho who had a fly swatter and a pair of branch cutters in the basket on the back of his bike, (all a gardener needs I guess!) "WHERE YOU GOING?" He spoke quite loudly due to the noise of the traffic. "Do you know where FC Zurich training ground is?" I replied. "I KNOW THE FC ZURICH OFFICES" "no not there, there's another place" I knew where the offices were also and the training ground is in the opposite direction. "Just to the lakeside I guess then." "IM GOING THERE TOO, I SHOW YOU ALL THE WAY, THIS PACE GOOD? I HAVE ELECTRICAL ASSISTANCE!" He had a little motor on his bike to help with the pedalling and I followed him around 2 miles to the lakeside. I laughed as he shouted the whole conversation to me and spoke to most the people on the pavement also. "OY OY OY" he would exclaim when i told him the distances ive been cycling. A great character that really helped me and also gave me a little guided tour on the way. When we got to the lakeside we exchanged information and parted ways. So i would like to thank Mr Hans-Rudolf Schreiber for his help and hopefully he can follow me through this blog.

So I set off for the training ground, by this time it was 2pm but I knew I was only 8km away so that would take me around 20minutes no problem. My navigation so far has been pretty good considering my resources. I've managed to get to Zurich from Calais with a map that has about as much detail as a school globe! I just had to remember the map from the email that I received. By this time the rain was torrential and I really wasn't enjoying myself. I asked countless people if they knew where Zurich trained and nobody had even the slightest incling. This'll do I thought, it got to around 4pm and i decided to call it a day on the search. For the first time this trip my internal sat nav had failed me. I was pretty gutted that I couldn't watch the academy and this turned into total devastation when I pulled up to a bus shelter and turned around to find that the baguette that I had Bungy corded to my bike and clearly forgotten about, looked like it had been used as rudder for a round the world yacht race! The bus shelter I stopped at was more like a little house and it even had public toilets out the back so I sat in there and ate wet bread and jam and watched the rain continue to chuck it down. Great! What do I do now? I changed my clothes and dried off a little and decided the bus stop is the best place to stay the night. All around the lake in Zurich are houses and if I'm going to stay the night I may aswell stay there and re-evaluate after I've spoken to Heinz again. Thankfully the rain stopped so I made another decision to pack up Nigel, lock him away and go find wifi on foot. Another mechanical fart in my sat nav proved that I was a lot further from Zurich as I first thought. It took me an hour to walk into the main town and by now my legs are stiffer than those of Atlas. I managed to get to my trusty McStop and prepared myself to write an email apologising to Heinz. I was probably going to say that I would have to give the visit a miss as I can't stay in the bus stop for three nights but I saw he had messaged me. 2pm on Sunday it said. YES! Get in! This I can do I thought. In seconds, the pain of cycling around for ages in the pouring rain had gone and I was looking forward to tomorrow. The only issue now was how to I get back to Nigel. I knew the town I left him in but there are so many ways to get to one place around Zurich one can easily get lost. I left Zurich at 7:30 and knew I had walked along way so I was preparing myself for a fair trek back to Nigel. A fair trek is an understatement! I very rarely get lost but today was a day where I can hold my hands up and say I had no clue where I was! I wandered and asked and wandered and asked, nobody knew the town called fallacher and I was starting to think that I had made it up! 3 and a half hours later I was reunited with Nigel and its fair to say my legs were like cement. Riding over 60 miles for a route that could've been done in 40 if I was a car and walking for 4 and half hours that could've been done in 20 minutes if I was a car makes me want to be a car right now. Another situation however to learn from, tomorrow I have saved a map and studied it with more intensity than when I was searching through the clearance shelf in Lidl looking for a "Swiss bargain" oh, did I mention Switzerland is quite expensive?.....

Never trust kids...

Friday 23rd August

Another good sleep courtesy of the air bed that Kristina had brought in to let me sleep on was then followed by a final morning walk around the city centre in search of the cheapest breakfast/lunch. It had to be the old faithful bread and Brie combination with some quality H2O to wash it down with. I have now come ro the conclusion that Brie makes me tired but its particularly cheap so it has o be bought. Plans had changed slightly and I was going to visit BSC Old Boys Dream Team then head for Zurich after, as there was no way I could have the key to the office on Saturday morning due to security issues. That was not a problem, I had more than I bargained for in the first place and I think another night in Basel would've put me into bankruptcy anyway. 

I arrived at the training ground and was immediately impressed with the facilities. The main BSC Old Boys train and play there also and the Dream Team is a disabled football team under the same name. I initially met Marco, the son of the couple that started the foundation and he told me all about how they started and what they do etc. His parents Silvio and Brigitte were police officers and they used to go into schools and talk to the kids etc. One day they noticed a child with a mental disability not being allowed to get involved with the football and so they encouraged the other kids to help him. This idea evolved into the dream team idea in which every Friday the mentally disabled can join to have a little kick about and enjoy football as a group. Now the course runs from 4:15 till 7 with 3 different age groups and also offers the opportunity for the older ones to develop into coaches for the younger ones. I met and spoke to Benni who started there as a kid and did a bit of coaching when I was there because Marco had to leave early. You can see that video on my YouTube channel. 

One thing Marco said that really rung bells through me was that unless they had to know about a serious condition like epilepsy etc they don't ask or know what's different about any of them. The way Marco and his parents acted around all of them was not with caution or give anybody special preferential treatment. They just showed great love and kindness to all, myself included. A lad called Christian only wanted to referee the matches, they bought him a referees kit with cards and a whistle and he referees all the games at the end of the sessions. He loved blowing his whistle that's for sure but no more than Howard Webb and the games were all so light hearted so a wrong decision wasn't complained about, everything was just done with a smile on their face - the way football should be played.

I had to leave a bit early because I was pretty worried about how long it would take me to get out of Basel, which way I had to go to get out of Basel and where I might be sleeping! I managed to get out alright and found a good cycle path in roughly the direction I needed to go. I knew to head east so as long as the sun was setting on my back then I was happy I wouldn't end up back in France. You may remember that in France when it comes to road signs, green is good and blue is bad. Well in Switzerland it's the other way around and it doesn't help that the best route that all roads lead to between Basel and Zurich is a green one! The sun was setting very fast and my main thought about which way to head was, "to the trees!" Every time I would find a nice patch of trees I would cycle a bit further and find myself out the otherside in open land and even though Switzerland is very safe I do like a bit of cover or at least some permission to camp. About another hour had past now and this was easily the latest and darkest I have cycled in. I could still get by without lights but I knew it was getting pretty close to bed time and I was stuck on country roads with fenced fields and no farms to knock on the door of. To add to my issues I had the varying terrain of steep inclines combined with tired legs and all I wanted to do was just find any spot and sleep. I eventually came to farm in a town called Magden or something similar to that. This was it I thought, if this doesn't work then it's another night sleep in a bus stop and I really didn't want that. I knocked on the door and an old lady squeezed her head around the door, "hallo, sprecken sie englisch? " I said. "Huh?" She looked at me

Puzzled, it was dark and i was standing at her door looking very tired and sweaty and slightly hunched over Nigel. Oh great! I thought, better find that bus stop. Then I heard an "I do... a little" in the background, the old lady fully opened the door to reveal a young boy around 11 called Jordan. I told him my situation and he said "woooow yeah sure, just go by the field there on the corner" I thought wunderbar! although in my 8 years of experience of working with kids of all ages I know never to trust them

with anything. Don't believe them when they are telling you what their parents do for a living, don't ask for directions as they have no clue or they like sending you in the opposite direction for fun and never ever ever except food from them. I once had a thin mint from an American kid and almost threw up. If you except anything then forget about anything homemade, make sure it's been mass produced, properly packaged and i would even recommend wearing gloves when opening it because they'll probably be some jam, yoghurt or something sticky on the rapper that has spewed out of the kids lunch box.

So i was very relieved to find somewhere at last but still with this thought in the back of my mind I tentatively set up camp. Half way through organising camp a man came down in his car from where the farm was on the otherside of the house and called over to me. I thought here we go, the mans spotted me, asked Jordan what's going on, giving him a whipping for making promises that he shouldn't and now has to turf me off his plot of land, typical! I said "sorry sprecken sie englisch" he replied "ah, a little, just wondered if you were ok? Did you want a cup of coffee or tea?" An air of comfort and safety draped over me and I smiled, "nein danke, but maybe tomorrow morning" "sure thing, just knock on the window of the kitchen when you're up, sleep well" and with that he reversed back up his driveway. With a shake of the head in disbelief of the kindness of some people I put the stove on and cooked up a storm before bed. Another day down, another adventure complete and another safe sleep to be had.

An Insight to Switzerland

Thursday 22nd August

Waking up for the first time underneath a solid roof was nice. i had the chance to get ready and fresh before the guys came in at half 8, so I fixed Nigel's front rack as it kept wobbling and banging against the spokes. The last 4 days i have used bits of cardboard to wedge the rack still but i had a few bits and bobs from a rack that i broke riding into the stadium on the first day, which i kept just incase situations like this one arose. After that was sorted i had a few hours to burn before Kristina was ready to take me to FC Basel's stadium and show me their brand new training facility. I decided therefore, to let myself loose in the city of Basel and having still remembered a few key German phrases and words from school, I set out with the intention of ordering food like a local. So i attacked the language in a similar way to how i used to go for runs back home. Head off in the direction of the pub and if the run fails then you've just got to the pub quickly, nothing lost. The good thing about being in Switzerland compared to mainland France is you know you can start speaking in German and can use English as a back up if all else fails, nothing lost. Only went and nailed it first time didnt I! Pretty sure the lady behind the hot cabinet didnt need me to hold 2 fingers up with one hand and point to what I wanted with the other hand because my dialect was spot on, but either way i had myself 2 massive meat balls (frikadelle) to enjoy. Switzerland is notoriously expensive which is a real shame but there are a few things that you can get for free as I've mentioned before if you have a bit of local knowledge or a mate called Steve. The fountains in the streets all kick out good quality drinking water and I didn't have to sit in McDonald's to write this blog as there is a very cool cafe in prime location with free wifi that most people go to to meet up. The shops are all very high end and everybody is very well dressed and they smell positively delightful. Don't get me wrong I'm not going around sniffing people's hair, I just walk slower than most to take in the sights and before i know it i get smothered in their wake like a very underdressed extra in a Loreal commercial. I feel like a right chump with white socks and Saints training kit on and I swear I walked past a homeless person sleeping on a bench who was popping a collar of a Ralph Lauren polo and probably Diesel jeans!

In the afternoon Kristina the head of projects at Scort took me swimming in the Rhine. Loads of people do it with dry bags as flotation devices and you basically walk down the river as far as you want, put your things in your dry bag, jump in the river and float back to where you started or further! The weather was amazing and there were lots of people drinking and families having bbq's etc there was a really good atmosphere all along the riverbank.

 In the evening I was left to my own devices to explore and take in the city nightlife. Trying to put a finger on what makes Basel and Switzerland as a whole so different took me some time. I've eventually put it down to a few things. Equality, Acceptance and Harmony. Whether it was the excellent weather I don't know but in the evenings everybody is out on the streets either sat around the fountains on benches, on terraces in bars or mostly along the riverbanks where a lot of bars are also. As the night started to end I walked up and down both sides of the river expecting to see lots of rubbish and empty cans, groups of scary looking youths and homeless people near bins, the usual things I have grown up accepting in England. Instead what I saw were neat piles of rubbish collected and placed by the bin if the bin was full, and the most eclectic groups of multi cultured people that you find hard to understand how they got to know each other in the first place! There was not one difference in class or difference in attire, everybody seemed to co-mingle no matter what. There was not one group playing louder music than another or one harsh sound of an argument spoken between any two people. Everybody I walked past respected the next person or the next couple or the next family/group of people. Men in suits with their bikes drinking cans on the river side made homeless people look no different and hence equalising the social hierarchy of the whole community. Bars are ALOT more expensive than buying cans but there was no divide between where a bar began on the river and the where the next group of people with their own food and drink decided to set up, everyone was linked. People with cans for 60p were talking equally with people holding bottles for £7. The whole experience was bizarre but harmonious and it took me a while to figure it out but I loved it. During the day things are no different. Cyclists are to Switzerland as Cows are to India it seems. Cars don't drive recklessly in annoyance that cyclists are hogging the road as Switzerland is a "green" country. If anything you are looked down upon if you drive a fancy car and there is no real need for them anyway as everything you need is at most a short bike ride away. Bikes can be left anywhere with no lock (I wasn't going to risk it myself, Nigel would never forgive me) but when I mentioned this to Kristina her answer was, "this is Switzerland!" Why can't everywhere be like this I thought? Or more strangely, how has Basel maintained this safety with the lack of policing? I put it down to the high prices. People are so put off actually getting into Switzerland because the bus fare in is soo much they go elsewhere to be wreckless and steal things, it's my only possible conclusion!

After this i decided to go back to the office to sleep. Another good day and another experience to add to the growing list. 

If you're thinking that things just seem to be going right for this boy, how is he always so fortunate and that something's got to give some time. Then you're probably right. I bought some cheese the other day, Maasdamer it's called. Hint of a smell on it but not too overpowering and when it's slightly warmed its an absolute dream in a baguette. I saved one massive slice for emergencies like midnight munchies etc. Today I've retrieved the packet from my clothes pannier and unfortunately that's all I have retrieved! It's been pretty hot recently so there's a strong chance the cheese has slipped to the bottom of my bag and melted a goodun! I dare not put my hand down there to see and I probably won't tell till later as my socks overpower the smell of a sewage plant let alone some melted cheese, so we will just have to wait till Africa to see what state my mosquito net is in!