Prince Edward Island

March 05, 2016 by Chelsea Rieger

Since bicycles are strictly forbidden to be ridden across the 13km long Confederation Bridge we caught a lift from the shuttle van. Once on the bridge we realised that riding would have been terrible as there are no shoulders, just two skinny traffic lanes and that is it. Our driver was awesome and gave us the run down on the history of the bridge and tips on avoiding the heavily touristed parts of the island. It is always great to have a locals perspective on what are the best places to visit.

We were immediately impressed by the beauty of the island and after a short afternoon ride we ended up at a perfect ocean side campground.

The next morning we awoke to howling winds and driving rain. We hunkered down inside our tent until about 11am when things had calmed down somewhat to start our short ride to Charlottetown.

We thought we would have an easy ride to Charlottetown, but we didn't take into account the driving rain and the endless hills that just kept going and going. Even under cloudy skies the landscape was amazingly green.

We had a relaxing afternoon wandering around the old buildings of Charlottetown complete with all the Anne of Green Gables merchandise you could ever want.

After a taste of the hills we decided to spend some time on the flat rail trail that runs the entire length of the island. It was more gorgeous scenery as we travelled through a world of green.

Staying fuelled on the bike is always a top priority whether it's famous fish and chips or trying to cook on our tiny camp stove.

Some spectacular sunsets followed us as we made our way back to the coast.

We sought out as many small backroads as we could. Some were in dire need of repair.

We finished our journey in PEI at the ferry that would take us to our next province, Nova Scotia. It would have been fantastic to get to spend a bit more time on the island, but with so much more still to see it was time to say goodbye.

New Brunswick

February 03, 2016 by Chelsea Rieger

I have to admit I had no idea what to expect from New Brunswick as we entered the province on rail trail. A lot things surprised me from just how forested the province is to the continuing French influence seen throughout the province.

Our first full day riding in New Brunswick we were making our way down the highway when all of the sudden out of nowhere I was stung on the back of my ear by a wasp. Said wasp then proceeded to get itself stuck between my helmet, strap and ear. In a full on panic I was trying to dislodge it while riding as I could feel and hear it angrily buzzing around. Since I couldn't free it I had to slam on my brakes and rip my helmet off while Ty was riding behind me wondering why I was acting so crazy. I spent the rest of the day with a swollen ear.

As we continued on the smell of French Fries wafted across the highway as we passed by the McCain French Fry factory. We cycled through thick forests, along gorgeous rivers and through small towns. We were excited to find some more rail trails to ride. Even though they were a bit rough it was worth the extra effort for the incredible views.

We eventually arrived in the town of Hartland, home to the World's Longest Covered Bridge, just in time to celebrate New Brunswick Day.

The weather was hot and humid as we continued making our way towards Fredericton. One sweltering morning as we were riding along a quiet road a car heading in the opposite direction stopped and the man inside started chatting to us. He told us that he owned the house just up the road and that even though he would be gone for a few hours we were more than welcome to use his pool and that his house was unlocked if we needed anything from inside. The generosity of complete strangers is one of the greatest rewards of travelling by bicycle. We cycled up his driveway and were greeted by a massive estate. We went for a glorious swim before putting back on our sweaty clothes and continuing the ride.

One of the most refreshing swims I have ever had

Further down the road we had an exciting stop at the world's largest axe.

We made it to Fredericton where we gladly took a day off and spoiled ourselves with a hotel room where we could blast the air conditioning. Fredericton was a nice city and we enjoyed just walking around for the day.

After departing Fredericton we began making our way towards Moncton and back to the ocean. At a roadside lunch stop we had the good fortune of getting to see the first car to ever cross the Confederation Bridge parked in the parking lot. Not only was the car adorned with decals stating this fact, but the driver also had a matching t-shirt made up.

Awesome lunch stop and the first car to ever cross the confederation bridge

The more time we spent in New Brunswick the more I was impressed by how rugged and remote the province felt. We passed up and down forested hills and along endless waterways.

In Moncton we had one of our more interesting stays through AirBnB staying with an artist in an old creaky house. We stored our bicycles in a room that had a post-it note on the door stating that it was the "Spaceship Room".

Mural painted by the artist we stayed with

From Moncton we decided to take a day trip to see the Hopewell rocks. It felt so free riding without any of our bags for the day. It was a nerve wracking ride on the very narrow highway that was full of tourist cars and campers. The amount of people that overtook us on blind crests in the oncoming lane was astonishing and in one instance Ty had to wave a guy back over into our lane just before he would have hit a car coming in the other direction. The rocks were quite amazing despite the hefty price to get into the park and the slightly terrifying ride to get there.

Onwards from Moncton we continued to the ocean and got to visit the giant lobster in Shediac. Our last couple of days in New Brunswick were spent cycling along the ocean until we reached the Confederation Bridge and the end to our travels in New Brunswick.

Ty's tan lines are getting quite impressive

One of my favourite things about our time in New Brunswick was that everyone knew everyone else in each small town we passed through. I loved waiting outside of grocery stores, while Ty picked up supplies, watching everyone standing around the parking lot chatting for an extra 10 minutes. We also loved hearing conversations in Acadian French which is quite distinct from Quebecois French. It was also fun listening to people switch back and forth between English and French depending on who they were talking to.

Approaching the Confederation Bridge, sadly no chance of cycling across it

It was sad to be leaving such an interesting province, but across the 13km long bridge our next province awaited.

Quebec

January 29, 2016 by Chelsea Rieger

We left our temporary home for the past few nights and headed into Quebec.

Last few minutes in Ottawa, crossing a lock to get to the bike path

Cross the bridge from Ottawa into Gatineau and all of the sudden you are transported into a world where the English language seemingly disappears from all signs and Tim Horton's menus. Having been so recently immersed in Spanish our instinctual reaction to someone speaking to us in French was to reply in Spanish. This led to several embarrassing exchanges and probably to a few people thinking we were complete idiots. Fortunately, having forgotten all my high school French, all the rumours we had heard about Quebecers being hostile to English speakers were completely unfounded. Everyone we met was extremely friendly and would willingly switch to English even if they only knew a little bit.

The start to our trip in Quebec was great with designated bicycle routes to follow along quiet roads. We also experienced cycling in the rain for the first time in months. It's a refreshing novelty when it only occurs every once in awhile.

After only two days of cycling we had already reached Montreal and another couple of days off to have enough time to check out the city. Thanks to the advice of my cousin who spent a few years living in the city we had a lengthy list of spots to visit.

One of the highlights to our time in Montreal was eating. There was of course the obligatory visit to Schwartz's for smoked meat sandwiches as well as Ty's first time trying poutine. Throw in some wood fired bagels, ice cream and wash it all down at the free pour cocktail bar where your drink comes in a mason jar and you have the recipe for two happy cyclists.

Our next stop was Quebec City which was only another few days down the road following along the mighty St. Lawrence river. The more time we spent in Quebec the more we understood why it is constantly listed as a top cycle touring destination. There are thousands of kilometres of marked bicycle routes that take you on spectacular quiet backroads and designated bicycle trails topped off with some of the most courteous drivers I have experienced.

We enjoyed cycling in between the small towns that were always announced a few kilometres in advance by a set of twin spires of the local church looming on the horizon.

Typical night for us, the only tent surrounded by trailers

Crossing to the other side of the St. Lawrence

Quebec City was a place we were both excited to get to see and it was quite interesting seeing the old city complete with cobblestone streets so well preserved, but the crush of tourists soon dulled our excitement. Nevertheless, it was great to see a place that contains so much Canadian history.

From Quebec City our route took us eastwards for our final few days in Quebec.

Leaving Quebec City still following the St. Lawrence River

As we continued along the St. Lawrence river became the Gulf of St. Lawrence and all of the sudden we were at the ocean. Life was simple, ride, eat, camp and repeat.

We were already thoroughly enjoying Quebec, but little did we know the province was saving the best for last. A 130km continuous section of perfectly maintained rail trail that took us into New Brunswick. The scenery was amazing and riding without have to worry about cars is always a bonus.

Our last night in Quebec was pretty amazing too.

Return to Canadia

January 28, 2016 by Chelsea Rieger

Despite traveling all over the world I have to admit that I have yet to see the majority of my own country. The most logical way to right this wrong was for us to hop on a plane back to Canada and see the country from the saddles of our trusty bicycles. The plan was simple, head East from Toronto until we ran out of land.

To say we were excited about returning to Canada is probably a bit of an understatement. For weeks before our departure from Peru our conversations constantly revolved around the meals we were most looking forward to eating. We also spent an unhealthy amount of time fantasizing about drinking fresh milk (not available in South America). We were not disappointed, from our favorite Tim Horton's staple, the bagel BELT, to delicious Asian food and Ty discovering the classic childhood favorite Tiger ice cream for the first time.

Upon our arrival to Toronto, South America had one more cruel prank to play on us before we could escape it clutches. After a long overnight flight we were completely exhausted and just needed our bikes to turn up. The baggage area was crazy as the Peruvian soccer team coming for the Panam games was on our flight. After a long time waiting for our bikes to turn up I went for a walk to the baggage claim counter and was stunned to see a member of the Peruvian soccer team wheeling our bikes out of the airport on a trolley. Heart pounding, I ran after him and grabbed the trolley. I still have no idea if they were trying to steal them, but we were ten seconds from our most important possessions disappearing. It took us a while to calm down from the shock of how close our trip became to being completely ruined. With that incident out of the way it was great to be back on Canadian soil and soon to be back on the bike.

Being so close to Niagara Falls meant an obligatory visit was required. We were able to catch a ride out to the falls with my Mom's friend Erin. She dropped us off early in the morning before heading to work for the day. Our early arrival ended up being a huge bonus as we had the falls almost completely to ourselves for a couple of hours before the massive crowds began to arrive.

Despite having seen thousands of pictures and videos of the falls it was still impressive to see them in person. I am not sure the same can be said for the bizarre tourist strip that accompanies the falls though...

Erin picked us back up at the end of the day and took us to an awesome pub in the pretty town of Niagara on the Lake. Over beer and burgers it finally sunk in that we were back in Canada.

We wandered around Toronto for a couple of afternoons in between visits to bike shops to replace my broken front racks and MEC to restock on much needed supplies.

It was finally time to ride and we were itching to hit the open road once again. Getting out of Toronto and the seemingly never ending sprawl of the metropolis turned out to be a breeze thanks to the Waterfront Trail which takes you on quiet suburb roads, bike paths, dirt trails and any other imaginable parth type along Lake Ontario. Despite annoying times when we had to do crazy loops through subdivisions it still beat riding on a busy highway.

Always a good day when you find an ice cream truck on your route

We quickly fell back into the rhythm of cycle touring. Pedalling, eating and finding a place to rest your head for the night. We drank in the amazing greenery that followed us everywhere from farm fields to the thick leafy trees. I was amazed by how beautiful each day continued to be as we progressed along the lake.

Lake Ontario was our constant companion and its hundreds of kilometers of shores provided the perfect back drop for many a rest stop, the occasional swim/laundry and after dinner walk.

After arriving in Kingston we headed north to Ottawa, our last city in Ontario. The beautiful landscapes continued as we passed never ending lakes and rivers.

We arrived in Ottawa for a few days of rest and sightseeing and were fortunate to have a place to stay with one of Ty's friends and his family. We wandered around town checking out parliament, the Rideau Canal, the markets and the History Museum. We also partook in a Sunday ride where major roads around the city are shut down to cars and become massive bicycle highways. It was fantastic.

After a few days off of the bikes we set off for our next adventure, crossing the Ottawa River and entering Quebec.

More climbing than I ever thought possible

July 23, 2015 by Chelsea Rieger

From Copacabana on the Bolivian shores of Lake Titicaca we crossed the magical line that separates Bolivia and Peru. All of the sudden we were in a different world. The landscape remained unchanged and the ladies still wore fancy hats and carried their possessions in colourful blankets, but all of the sudden there were motorcycle taxis and towns seemingly everywhere. After the desolateness of the Bolivian plains it was a novelty to end up in a town or city with places to stay and places to eat every night.

The other things that remained the same were freezing cold nights and the suicide electrical showers that can electrocute you if you accidentally touch the metal bit of the tap (Ty found this out the hard way).

Marching band practices were in full swing everywhere we went and more than one sleepless night was encountered due to parties that continued on at full volume until the sun came back up.

In the town of Puno we had our last trout dinner before saying goodbye to Lake Titicaca and climbing up and out of the city.

Final views of Lake Titicaca and the end of our fresh fish meals

After many days of riding the mostly flat Altiplano plains we slowly made our way up a long mountain pass into a heavy headwind. We met another cyclist at the top who was even carrying his guitar with him. As we flew down the other side of the pass the landscape completely changed and all of a sudden there were steep mountain peaks surrounding us as we rode along the bottom of a valley full of farms and small villages.

Ty talking over routes with another cyclist we meet at the top of the pass

Guinea pigs aren't just pets in Peru. The one food we never got a chance to try...

Festival activities continue the next morning after a sleepless night for us

Our route eventually took us to the city of Cusco, our largest city so far in Peru. After navigating the busy traffic and fortunately getting to ride on a cycle pathway for a large portion of the journey into the city we arrived at the awesome hostel that is known amongst the cycle touring community as the place to stay in Cusco. We met a bunch of other cyclists including a French family with three young kids in tow!

Festival season was in full swing in Cusco and the large amount of people plus the large amount of tourists was quite overwhelming. We did however take advantage of the plethora of restaurants serving any kind of food you could possibly want. Once we were tired of the the constant hassle of hawkers and being jostled around the crowded streets we would escape to the quiet courtyard of our hostel.

The old part of Cusco contained lots of interesting buildings, alleyways and cobblestone streets.

After a few days resting up we departed Cusco with Titouan, a French cyclist who had cycled all the way from Ushuaia and is planning on cycling to Alaska.

After escaping the chaos of the city we were excited to see the landscape open back up into fields and trees. This also marked the beginning of some massive climbs and descents through the incredible mountains of Peru.

It is funny how the dogs in each country we visited in South America differed so much. The Chilean dogs were friendly and the Peruvian dogs were aggressive. Multiple times a day we would be chased by packs of dogs barking, growling and getting within inches of our legs or bikes.

One of our daily dog encounters while taking a break

Surrounded by hills that we would soon be climbing up and over

Lunch stop. Every meal in Peru starts with soup

Our first night out of Cusco with camping spots in short supply we spent the night in an abandoned building with quite the view. The only downside being that we provided a very tasty metal for hordes of biting insects. We spent days covered in itchy welts as a result.

We departed early the next morning to tackle our biggest climb of the entire trip. 2000mof elevation separated us from the top of the mountain we needed to get over. All day long we climbed and climbed at a mostly snail's pace. Unfortunately we lost Tito along the way when he decided to stop in a village to eat while we carried on. It was a grueling day that at times felt completely impossible, but with the sun starting to set we finally reached the top. We still had a freezing cold 30km descent to get to the next town, but at least we didn't need to pedal!

Our joy over having completed such a massive climb was short lived as we realized we had several more big climbs coming our way. We followed a pretty river up a steep valley until we reached our next big climb back up to the high altitude plains. It was a nice break to see trees and green vegetation for a few days before heading back up to the desert like high plains.

Back at high altitude in the sparse landscape dotted only occasionally by small villages we had an amazing five days of beautiful riding and free camping along the way.

One of the best places we found to camp was inside of empty animal corrals. The stone walls provided protection from the wind and hid us from the traffic on the nearby highway. We had some delicious meals in tiny roadside restaurants. It was always a surprise as to what we would be eating since you get whatever is being served that day.

It was beautiful scenery all day every day as we climbed and descended the rolling hills. We did over 1000m of climbing every single day, but you tend not to notice when you are surrounded by ever changing interesting hills, rocks and peaks.

We descended once again into a fertile valley before our last big climb on South American soil.

After reaching the top of the final big hill we began a sometimes terrifying 4000m drop in elevation. For over 90km we were going downhill, winding around so many hairpin curves that I lost all sense of orientation. We actually overtook several big trucks which had to crawl along the extremely windy roads. It was one of the greatest feelings in the world as we normally spend every day being passed over and over again.

It was a bit of a shock after almost two months at high altitude to be back almost at sea level. Climbing seemed so much easier and you could feel the thickness of the oxygen rich air. We had now entered the coastal desert region and much warmer temperatures.

After a couple of rest days in Nazca getting reacquainted with hot weather we set off for our final few days cycling through the desert towards Lima. The bleak and mostly flat desert landscape was jarring. Unfortunately the sides of the highway were strewn with neverending garbage which detracted from the beauty. We got to see a few of the famous Nazca lines from a rickety tower before making it to the desert oasis of Huacachina.

In Huacachina we took time off to climb some massive sand dunes before opting to take the bus the remainder of the way into Lima and avoid the ever increasing traffic into the city

Our time in Lima was mainly spent relaxing and getting ready to leave. We found all sorts of delicious food including amazing ceviche to gorge on now that we were back on the coast. We were relieved to have arrived at our final South American destination without being hit by a car. The landscapes we traveled through were stunning, but being honked at incessantly and having vehicles pass us with mere inches to spare at high speed quite regularly had taken its toll on our sanity. Time for new adventures a little closer to home.

Out of Bolivia, into Peru

June 19, 2015 by Chelsea Rieger

Our departure out of La Paz was delayed twice as we took turns getting the dreaded stomach bug that always seems to come at some point during travelling. When it was my turn we made it a whopping 1.5km from the hotel before we had turn around and check back in. After 5 days in the city and 3 of those spent in bed we were more than ready to get moving again. We had been dreading the exit as it meant contending with the crazy city traffic of La Paz and the connecting city of El Alto for 30km, but in the end we made it out with relative few problems. The 14km climb out of the La Paz valley was on a highway with a nice wide shoulder and gentle gradient.

Next it was into the chaos of El Alto where we jockeyed with the hundreds of vans that serve as local transportation for position on the road. They constantly stop to pick up passengers with little warning requiring constant maneuvering around them.

Finally on the outskirts of El Alto. Figuring out how to get back on the highway

Unfortunately the end of the city did not mean smooth sailing as we contended with a very long section of road construction. I was not impressed when a van coming from the other direction felt the need to veer onto my side of the road on a muddy dirt detour and shower me and my bike with a lovely mixture of mud and water. Eventually we escaped the construction and were back on the normal highway and smoother riding to Lake Titicaca.

Lunch stop in the plaza of a small village after finally escaping the city

The ride through the city had taken its toll on us and by lunch time or nasal passages were raw from breathing in the horrendous fumes escaping from the dilapidated vehicles belching out clouds of black smoke.

Ty gets to ride through the lovely exhaust from the Jesus bus

Our first views of Lake Titicaca were impressive as we crested a hill and caught our first glimpse of its deep blue waters.

We continued on and ended up staying in a strange empty resort along the shore. It had an incredible view, but probably hadn't been renovated since the seventies.

Living the resort life. Snacks by the lake, creepy old playground and cooking Kraft Dinner with a very nice view

The next day we continued on alongside the lake through small villages with people out farming and tending to animals. A nice change from the desolate desert areas we have been in.

It was silly for me to think that since we are riding by the lake all day out journey would be a flat one. We climbed up and up for some breathtaking views.

You don't even notice the uphills with views like this

After out first big climb we descended down to the lakeshore and hopped on a barge to take us a short distance across the lake to where the road continued.

After a short break on the other side of the lake we began what turned out to be a 30km ascent up and up and up some more. The views were incredible, but it was exhausting as we made our way back up to 4200m of elevation.

The ascent did have an end and finally we were rolling down a steep downhill into the tourist haven of Copacabana.

It is always a bit jarring entering a tourist town after spending days in small towns where we don't see any, but we took advantage of a nice cheap hotel and the row of beach side stalls serving delicious trout from the lake.

From Copacabana we decided to head over to Isla Del Sol, an island in the middle of the lake, for a few days of car free relaxation. The inhabited island has only walking paths so donkeys and peoples' backs are the only way goods are transported on the island. It was a truly spectacular island and the view from our $10 a night hostel couldn't have been any better.

We spent a day exploring the island by foot and exercising muscles that have gone a bit dormant.

Another great sunset and then it was time to return back to the mainland. With only 10 km to go to reach the Peruvian border our Bolivian chapter is closing and time to see what Peru has in store for us.

Salty Salt

June 06, 2015 by Chelsea Rieger

After being in the wilderness of Bolivia for over a week we took a few days off in the small city of Uyuni to take advantage of luxuries such as hot showers, restaurants and fresh fruits and veggies. Uyuni is full of tourists due to its proximity to Bolivia's famous salt flat and we welcomed the chance to take advantage of the strange plethora of pizza restaurants that actually served decent pizza. Our favorite hangout became a pizza joint owned by an American that had a delicious salad bar free with your pizza order. We stocked up on as much salad as possible to ward off any onset of scurvy we may have had coming our way. Our second favorite meal became llama steak served with salad, rice and French fries.

Stocking up on fresh veggies courtesy of the free salad bar

The only downside to Uyuni was the bone chilling cold that lingered while we were there. As virtually no buildings are heated it made it necessary to wear our jackets even indoors.

Any visit to Uyuni requires a visit to the nearby train cemetery. A strange graveyard of trains that were abandoned when the mining industry in Bolivia collapsed in the 1940s.

Stocking up on our staples for surviving in Bolivia: pasta, oatmeal and toilet paper

After stocking up on food supplies and stuffing as much food as we could into our bodies it was time to say goodbye to city life and head out for a completely new experience, riding on a massive salt lake.

On the ride out of Uyuni we got to experience one of the greatest joys of cycle touring, getting to ride on a brand new paved highway not yet open to vehicle traffic. While the vehicles drove on a terrible dirt road we enjoyed our smooth wide ride.

Before we knew it we had entered a completely different world. A white flat expanse of salt in every direction as far as the eye could see. If you want to feel like an insignificant speck upon the earth I recommend a trip to the Salar de Uyuni on a bicycle. With nothing on the horizon to help you reference how far you have gone time warps in strange ways and 5 minutes of cycling can feel like an hour. It was disconcerting to be cycling for hours on end with no way of knowing we were going in the right direction except by checking our GPS occasionally to make sure we were still on track.

As we followed the "road" towards a small rock island and our planned home for the night two specks appeared on the horizon and eventually we met our first pair of other touring cyclists, a couple from Spain headed in the opposite direction. A strange, but welcome meeting in the literal middle of nowhere. It was nice to have the assurance we were on the right track. We shared our accounts of what was in store in each direction before saying goodbye and heading back into the nothingness.

Exciting to see some fellow cyclists in the middle of the salt

In the late afternoon after battling the head winds and the strange thoughts that the desolateness brings about we arrived at Isla Incahuasi. We could see the island in the distance 30km before we reached it shores. Unsettling to be able to see your destination for so long. It felt like we were never getting any closer. Isla Incahuasi is a strange rocky outcropping full of jurrasic sized cactuses. The island attracts the hordes of tourist jeeps and it was strange to spend the day feeling utterly alone only to arrive to a parking area filled with over 20 jeeps. The greatest thing about the island is that all the tourist jeeps left by 5pm leaving us with an absolutely silent private camping spot.

We experienced a truly magical evening as the sun began to set on the empty surroundings. It made our mentally exhausting day of cycling seem completely insignificant compared to the immense beauty surrounding us.

Freewheeling while the sun begins to set

We set off the next morning for another day on the salt. Little did we know that the salt had more surprises in store for us as we headed back towards land.

The salt conditions changed as we ventured off the road. We passed through bumpy sections of strange salt formations and got our feet wet passing through flooded sections.

As we neared land and the massive volcano that had been our landmark all day the salt turned into a soggy mud flat and we slogged our way towards solid land and a dirt road.

We faced more tough road conditions as we made our way towards the nearest town with a hotel. Passing through quinoa fields and a gentle valley as we reacquainted ourselves with riding on land again.

After checking into one of the least friendly hotels imaginable we were excited to walk around the plaza in front of the hotel. It was full of various market stalls and the first trees we had seen in months. The next morning as we hauled our bikes out onto the street to get ready to leave we were greeted with a very busy market scene. Ty made an old lady angry by leaning his bike on the wall behind her little drink stall while he was trying to get packed up, but there was no where else for us to go.

Before and after: My very dirty bike gets a salt coating

Decided to take some of the salt with me as a souvenir

The plaza outside our hotel and Ty just before he was put in his place by an old lady

We left for our final day riding on gravel roads, well at least for a bit. The country became flat with large hills looming in the distance. More partially finished asphalt roads meant more smooth riding minus traffic.

Road all to ourselves again just have to push around the occasional road block

Yet another lunch of bread and sardines in tomato sauce. Often the only thing we can find in the tiny village stores we pass through

Our first paved road in weeks finally made it to the highway

In the next town we reached we asked every person we saw about a place to stay. After riding around to three different places that were all shut we had to admit defeat and headed out of town worried about where we could hide our tent for the night. Fortunately we found the perfect spot completely hidden from the nearby road

Awesome campsite and post ride stretching

The next few days passed by in a bit of a blur. Riding along paved highway with a wide shoulder until we reached our first actual city, Oruro.

Finally found a stream to wash the salt off our bikes in

Sampling some street food. Random animal parts and potatoes.

Sometimes you have to make your own kitchen facilities

Riding into Oruro was a bit hectic with lots of buses and vans to contend with.

Train runs right through the middle of town

In Oruro we had fun wandering around the many markets and sampling pizza topped with llama jerkey and local peppers.

More pizza, this time with a local twist

From Oruro we opted to take a van for the remaining 230km to reach La Paz, the capital city of Bolivia. La Paz is like no other city I have ever seen. At an altitude of 3600m the buildings cling to narrow valley sides. Every square inch of usable land seems to be occupied. A crazy network of steep streets, strange mix of buildings and street stalls everywhere. We sampled lots of street food and were very excited to visit an actual supermarket to replenish our supply of gummy candies.

After a few days off in La Paz we are now ready to hop back on the bikes and head to Lake Titicaca and then into Peru.

High Flying Bicycles

May 28, 2015 by Chelsea Rieger

After more than a week of not cycling Ty and I were excited to leave Chile and reacquaint ourselves with our bicycles in Bolivia, but first the help one last time of motorized transport. The road from San Pedro to the Bolivian border climbs more than 2000m in 45km. Not conducive to cycling or being able to properly acclimatize. A 45 minute truck ride up the mountain and it was like being dropped off on another planet. The temperature had plummeted and we were surrounded by barren hills.

Our lift up and time to finally start cycling again.

After being allowed to enter Bolivia it was a short ride to Laguna Verde. The effects of cycling above 4000m became immediately evident as the first tiny little hill we had to climb left us gasping for breath. We spent the night acclimatizing in a refugio, a very basic hotel with no heat beside the lake. Here we were also introduced to the drastic temperature drop that occurs once the sun dips behind the mountains at this altitude.

Back on the bikes headed to Laguna Verde

Our journey would take us through some very harsh landscapes devoid of water except for salty lakes. Fortunately we were following a very well established tourist route. Both a blessing and a curse as it meant there were places to stay, get food and water at perfect intervals and lots of traffic incase anything went wrong. The downside was eating pounds of dust as jeep after jeep flew by us without even slowing down.

Our first full day in the saddle introduced us immediately to the challenges that would stick with us for our entire journey. The day began with a long climb up a mountain pass that left me fighting for breath with every pedal stroke. I spent a lot of that morning pushing my bike up the hill since my legs starved for oxygen just wouldn't function when I tried to pedal.

After what felt like an eternity we eventually reached the top. We rolled down the other side and after more tough pedaling reached some natural hot springs. Cycling with so little oxygen and on rough gravel roads took its toll on us and at one point when it felt like it must be close to sunset we looked at the watch to realize it was only 1:30pm. At the hot springs there was no flat ground to set up our tent, but an old lady whose refugio was booked up for the night offered us her back storage room. We set up amongst old dusty mattresses, bags of manure, cans of food and meat hanging from the roof. Then it was time for a well deserved soak in the thermal pool! What an amazing feeling after a tough day on the bike.

We awoke the next morning to what would become the standard brilliant blue skies and slightly chilly temperatures. Our routine became to awake with the sunrise to take advantage of its warming rays. We set off on a perfect morning, little did we know that our toughest day of the entire journey was waiting for us.

We started off with another massive climb this time to the highest height we would reach, 4920m. Fortunately the road was decent and I could pedal without feeling like I was going to pass out from exhaustion. A great morning as we slowly climbed and climbed some more. Then at our maximum altitude we had to make a turn off our nicely graded well defined road and onto a crazy snaking network of jeep tracks headed in ten different directions. Trying to figure out which track would lead us in the right direction and which track would actually be rideable was a complete guess.

Our speed slowed down to a crawl just slightly faster than walking pace for kilometer after kilometer as we navigated from one jeep track to another. Each barely rideable as our bodies were jarred with each giant rock or corrugation we had to cycle over. As the hours ticked by we still had a long way to go to our intended destination. Meeting two Germans headed in the same direction as us in a vintage VW van lifted our spirits as they explained that they didn't have enough fuel to get to the next village with a gas station. Somehow sharing your misery makes everything better as we recounted our stories to each other.

The Germans and their vintage VW van cheered us up

With the sun getting close to setting and more than 10km on bad road still to ride into a head wind we were saved by a small village just a mere kilometer off the main road. We detoured to the village and found another refugio to call home for the evening. Utterly exhausted after only 45km of riding we realized this stretch of our journey was far more difficult than we ever could have imagined. Hot soup and pasta cooked by the staff at the refugio warmed us before we headed straight to bed to ward off the bone chilling high altitude cold.

The final push to our destination for the evening. "Road" too bad to even ride on

The next day we decided to take it easy and only rode 10km to reach the spectacular Laguna Colorada. A brilliant red salt lake inhabited by thousands of flamingoes. A leisurely afternoon walking around the lake amongst the resident llamas was exactly what we needed to recuperate our minds and bodies.

Standard evening routines, planning, eating and keeping warm

From Laguna Colorada we continued on sandy bumpy roads climbing and descending through the gorgeous mountain scenery. We also reached an important milestone, the completion of our first 1000km. Which by fluke we noticed while stopped on the side of the road for a break.

1000km completed somewhere in the middle of nowhere

Food on the road was pretty plain. Lots of pasta and tuna and biscuits. Our favorite lunch time creation became tortillas filled with salami and plain potato chips. The occasional abandoned house ruin provided the perfect spots to stop and refuel.

The remainder of our ride, which turned into a cross country adventure when we realized the jeep track we were on was 500m away from the track we needed to be on, eventually spit us out at a 5 star hotel literally in the middle of nowhere.

A constant battle to stay on the right track resulted in the occasional correction to our route

Arriving at the hotel exhausted in the middle of a windy afternoon meant we decided to splurge on a $140 room without a moment of hesitation. The perks included a hot shower, a chance to wash our filthy clothes and a real dinner consisting of llama steak and potatoes.

One night of luxury meant a chance to do laundry and relax after a hot shower.

Back on the dusty trail we travelled through an awesome canyon and arrived at another hotel in the middle of nowhere. The entire hotel was booked up by a massive tour group, but the staff was nice enough to let us camp out behind the restaurant in an alcove that was sheltered from the wind.

Vicunas were our constant companions along our entire ride

Improvised campsite behind a nice hotel. It even had wifi!

The next two days we spent journeying towards the International highway through some of the best scenery of our entire trip. Camping beside a nice lake and finally escaping the tourist trail we had two days mostly to ourselves. Despite some tough climbing sections the scenery made up for it.

One of only a handful of signs we saw on our entire journey

We passed an abandoned mining camp which proved to be a creepy detour as we took some time to wander around.

Found a nice secluded lakeside campsite and enjoyed one final evening in the wilderness as the next day would take us onto the main highway and back into civilization.

The canned ham experiment was an abject failure

Our morning took us through some more ever changing scenery before we hit the main highway and rolled downhill for 20km. We had to keep the brakes on the entire time since the main highway was still a gravel road.

Finally made it to the relatively smooth main highway!

The landscape flattened and little villages began to appear. Exciting to see shops again even if they were tiny.

Our final night took us to a tiny village with no places to stay. Fortunately there were some interesting ruins just out of town where we spent our final night camping.

Our final ride into Uyuni, our first Bolivian city, saw us trying to outrun looming storm clouds. A tailwind pushed us into town just in time to beat a freak snowstorm. We enjoyed a delicious pizza while watching the snow fly. Couldn't ask for a better end to our trip.

After a few days resting up we are now gearing up to head out onto the famous salt lake. Looking forward to some flat salty riding!

Ruta 5 Norte

May 16, 2015 by Chelsea Rieger

Next up on our journey was 3 days of hilly insanity. Following the main highway that connects the thousands of kilometers of Chile's coast our actual views of the ocean were few and far between as we continued North. We spent hour after hour crawling to the tops of hills only to be able to see the next hill we would have to climb looming in the distance.

The stretch of highway North from Los Molles was quite a bit less populated forcing us to hop a barbed wire fence just to find somewhere we could pitch our tent for the night. The area we found ended up being quite spectacular as we shared some cactus filled ranchland with a few cows.

Ended up being a pretty nice place to stop for the night

Our journey continued along empty stretches of highway dotted by small shacks selling food and the occasional restaurant. We looked forward for 70km to being able to stop in a small village famous for its cheese. The deep fried cheese empanadas were worth every pedal stroke.

Only 7 more kilometers to delicious cheese!

Back on the bike after a mid morning fuel stop.

The hills eventually flattened as we found an empty campground down a nice gravel road to call home for a night.

We continued onwards to La Serena with a stop in the small fishing town of Tongoy. The best part of being back by the ocean was the fresh seafood including empanadas stuffed full of all sorts of sea creatures.

All smiles to have reached the safety of the bike lane along the beach in La Serena

In La Serena we rested for a few days and stocked up on supplies in order to head over the Andes and into Argentina. Our journey inland led us on a gradual climb through an open valley full of vineyards and pisco distilleries.

Laundry, bike maintenance and resting up in La Serena

The views of La Serena from the roof of our hostel

Unfortunately despite being told the pass was still open we reached a sign stating otherwise. Disappointed we consoled ourselves with ice cream at the nearest gas station before deciding to take a detour up another gorgeous valley before having no other option, but to return back to La Serena.

Finding out the  hard way the pass we intended to take is closed until November — Finding out the hard way the pass we intended to take is closed until November

The trip up the Elqui valley to the town of Pisco Elqui turned out to be very worthy of the detour as we traveled higher into the mountains surrounded by stunning scenery and the surprise of finding a campsite in a small river side oasis.

On our return to La Serena what transpired was a frustrating sequence of events. Not wanting to ride 1200km of isolated desert highway to reach the north of Chile we decided to catch an 18 hour bus to San Pedro de Atacama. After being assured we could bring our bikes on the bus when buying tickets we were curtly refused entry into the bus by the driver. Returning to the same hostel in La Serena for the third time it was beginning to feel like we would be trapped forever. Not willing to risk being refused entry on another bus we decided to rent a car and drive ourselves. We somehow managed to fit our two bikes and all of our luggage into a small hatch back and finally we were away. The drive north only confirmed that we had made the right decision not to cycle. We passed through hundreds of kilometers of road construction and detours due to recent flooding, through a town still decimated by the flood, sections with no shoulder to ride on and hundreds of kilometers of nothing but desolate desert.

A picture is worth a thousand words: Stuck in La Serena once again

On the road again finally, strange feeling being in a car

Our last night by the ocean. A stop in the tiny town of Bahia Inglesa

Quite glad to not be riding these sections of the highway.

More misadventures ensued in our car journey including arriving in a city where we intended to stay for the night only to find all of the accommodation booked due to a Mining Expo and multiple times having to pull over to avoid being hit head-on by oncoming vehicles making risky passes.

Strange tourist attraction literally in the middle of nowhere on the way north

Our car journey landed us in San Pedro de Atacama, our last stop in Chile before crossing into Bolivia. The scenery around San Pedro is quite spectacular and a day ride around the area was just what we needed to relax.

From the rugged inhospitable terrain to having to wait in line for 30 minutes just to get cash out of an ATM Chile has challenged us every single day. Even things that we thought would be simple always seemed to turn into adventures. Like trying to order a combo meal at McDonalds only to learn after a lot of language confusion that they had no French fries available. We are looking forward to closing our chapter in Chile and seeing what Bolivia has to offer.

Americanos at the Motel

May 07, 2015 by Chelsea Rieger

After easing into our trip by relaxing on Easter Island it was time to finally hop on our bikes and see what Chile had to offer. A few weeks in and we have already had what feels like a lifetime of adventure.

Our first day in itself could make up an entire blog post. We left our comfortable home away from home in the hills of Santiago and headed out into more desert hills full of cactuses and scrubby bushes trying to escape the smog that had settled into the Santiago valley. For me everything was new, new bike, first time riding a fully loaded touring bike, but it felt good after I got used to steering while fully loaded.

Day 1 involved a gruelling 7km constant climb at a fairly steep and unrelenting gradient. To make it evidently clear just how slow we were moving there was a marker at every 100m interval the entire way up the hill. The one thing that made the climb tolerable was a friendly dog who followed us all the way to the top. He would run along with Ty who was in the lead, but would occasionally run back and check on my progress before catching back up with Ty.

Our constant companion for the first major climb

All smiles after finally reaching the top

After zooming down the other side of the hill and having pedaled for over 100km we reached the town where we intended to stay for the night. We had our first lesson in what has become one of the most frustrating parts of our journey so far. Finding accommodation can be tricky as many places are shut for the season or require you to phone them to get entry. Without a phone, with the sun setting and despite being exhausted we decided to push on further down the road to a place where two motels were shown on our map. We arrived at a gated compound and pushed a buzzer. After a very confusing exchange that required an old man on the street to come help us out we were allowed in and told to go to a room. There was music blaring from our room so we nervously knocked wondering if we were told the wrong number. Eventually we entered to find an empty room with a full length mirror beside the bed. As we slowly started to put all the pieces together we realized that we had paid for a twelve hour stay. A further Google search confirmed a very important fact. Motels in Chile are NOT the same as motels at home. All we could do was laugh at how ridiculous the whole situation was.

There is a first time for everything... Like unwittingly paying for a 12 hour stay in a Love Motel

Next our journey took us to the vibrant city of Valparaiso, renowned for its graffitied buildings. We took a few days of to explore the crazy alleyways and steep streets that make up this port city.

On the outskirts of Valparaiso. After spending the morning having buses driving within inches of us we were relieved to finally reach this beach side path.

The easy way to navigate all the hills of Valparaiso

From Valparaiso we headed north up the coast and eventually met the main highway, Ruta 5. The wide shoulder was a saving grace as we could stay away from the busy traffic. All day long friendly drivers would honk and give us a friendly wave or a thumbs up. These were especially appreciated as we crawled up steep climbs.

We spent our nights in small beach towns that were mainly shuttered up for the season. The weather was still nice enough to enjoy the beach though.

Upon arriving in yet another beach side town where we intended to stay for the night and finding everything closed we by chance met Pablo, by some miracle probably the only man in town who spoke English. After 2 minutes of introductions we were pushing our bikes up the dirt road to his house where he kindly offered us his guest room. The greatest reward of travel, having complete strangers become instant friends. Pablo who is a photographer introduced us to his wife Lisa from the USA who creates beautiful jewelery and sells gems and rocks. After a hot shower we had a delicious lunch waiting for us.

So incredibly lucky to stay with Pablo, Lisa and their cat in the town of Los Molles

Our intended one night stay turned into two after we were introduced to Pisco and cola by our hosts.

It was a late night due to the 3 bottles of pisco we consumed

Our delayed departure however meant that we got an amazing tour from Pablo of the area. Places we never would have found on our own as they required scaling a wall to get to.

After a day of exploring it was time to say goodbye once again to some very awesome strangers who became friends. You can check out Lisa and Pablo's website at the below link. Photos, rocks, awesome hand made jewelery or meteorite expeditions:

http://www.la-ruta-sin-fin.blogspot.com

I am working on the next section of the blog as we speak so stay tuned for the next installment.

Landing and Taking off again

April 24, 2015 by Chelsea Rieger

After saying goodbye to my Dad in the international departures area as he headed to San Francisco and Ty and I to Santiago, Chile my last tie to home was once again cut. A strange feeling after months of planning, shopping and bike building to actually be leaving.

A long, but uneventful day of airplanes and airports landed us in the busy city of Santiago, Chile. By a stroke of amazing good fortune we had a place to stay waiting for us with Ty's friend Kirilie and her family. We were ridiculously spoiled with food, a comfortable room with a view of the surrounding mountains, a large back yard to reassemble our bikes in and excursions around the area.

First order of business, bicycle reassembly

Excursion up a crazy amount of hairpin turns to reach a ski resort on the outskirts of Santiago

Instead of immediately hopping on our bikes we decided to take advantage of Santiago being one of only two places in the world from which you can fly to Easter Island. The tiny remote island is of course famous for its mysterious stone head statues, but what we weren't expecting was the fantastic landscapes and coastlines that accompany these famous archeological sites. Having seen countless photos of the heads, but knowing nothing else about the island we were truly amazed by our 5 days there.

Arriving on a brand new 787 to the tiny Easter Island airport

Great campsite for our time on the island

The island contains only one town, Hanga Roa, where we discovered the most delicious Pina Colada ice cream.

Given the scorching hot and humid weather we opted to rent a car to see the big sites on the island. A 60km loop takes you around the entire island.

We had most of the sites to ourselves including lunch here

There are horses roaming all over the island.

And dogs, which became our constant companions everywhere we went.

We surprisingly found ourselves alone on the island quite often despite the large amount of tourists.

A sweaty morning hike brought us to a completely unexpected and stunning view at the top of an extinct crater.

At night it was a relief to see the sun disappear and cool air begin to blow in while watching the boats return for the evening before falling asleep to the sound of crashing waves.

We were fortunate to get to see one sunset before our departure. It was an unbelievable experience to visit such a remote and mysterious place, but after spending everyday sweaty I was looking forward to our return to cooler climes on the mainland and finally getting our bicycles on the road.

The Coincidence of the Road

April 07, 2015 by Chelsea Rieger

For the past few months I have been scratching my head trying to solve a statistical problem with an answer that seems astronomical. There are so many seemingly small unconnected events that have led up to me getting ready to depart on another journey tomorrow morning. If even one of those events had been slightly different I would probably be sitting in an office right now. Instead I have a built up touring bicycle that is ready to hit the road, a one way ticket to Santiago, Chile and an Australian touring partner/boyfriend to share the journey with.

So how do two people from opposite sides of the world meet? By both cycling onto a ferry headed from the mainland of Scotland to the remote Outer Hebrides Islands of course. Throw in a couple of crazy windstorms that delayed plans to go our separate ways and a well timed bottle of whiskey.

Voila after 3 months hanging out in Canada and introducing Ty to Canadian winter it is time to hit the road again.

To say I am excited is an understatement. After getting to do two short cycle tours during my last year of travelling I was immediately hooked. For me the bike offers one of the purest forms of travel. Earning every kilometre of your journey with nothing but your own power is an incredible experience. Life travels at a different speed on the bicycle and you find yourself fully immersed in the places you are travelling in.

Hope you will all follow along as the journey continues...

A Wee Bit of Ireland

November 02, 2014 by Chelsea Rieger

After returning my rented bicycle today I am feeling a bit lost. We spent an incredible six weeks together and even though it had the beauty of a pregnant cow when fully loaded it proved to be up to the challenge. Only two flats and some minor brake adjustments. I couldn't have asked for a more reliable companion.

The last two weeks were as always adventurous as I reunited with Ty after a few days on my own in Glasgow and we boarded yet another ferry, bound for Northern Ireland.

After a day spent in Belfast drinking our first Irish pint of Guinness and checking out the area where the Titanic was built we hit the road again. We were treated to some incredible scenery with soaring cliffs and brilliant green fields set beside our ocean route. We made a mandatory stop at the Giant's Causeway where we visited the bizarre hexagonal columns that are naturally formed. Unfortunately we had to share the site with bus loads of tourists. I had to double check I was still in Northern Ireland as every person we heard speak seemed to have a North American accent.

Upon arriving in the town of Derry we realized we needed to spend an extra day exploring the city which still has an intact fortress wall and learning about the turbulent history of the area. For those who are as ignorant of Irish history as me Northern Ireland is a part of the United Kingdom while Ireland is an independent country. Derry was a city where a lot of fighting between the Unionists who wanted Northern Ireland to remain apart of the UK and the Nationalists who wanted to become part of Ireland occurred. The divides in the city are still very evident as giant murals adorn the sides of townhouses and in one pub we went to the Union Jack on an Australian flag that was hanging from the ceiling had been covered up with an Irish flag.

Our departure from Derry was delayed by an extra day as we waited out the remnants of a hurricane. We headed south into Ireland and our incredible streak of rain free riding days came to an end. We rode mainly quiet back roads through farmland, past abandoned stone buildings and were chased by the occasional territorial dog. I was a little terrified one day when a horse who had been standing quietly in a group suddenly started galloping across a field straight towards Ty who was riding ahead of me. I know what to do if a bear attacks, but had no idea how to handle a horse attack. I watched helplessly until fortunately the horse was stopped by the pasture fence. It stood on guard until both Ty and I had ridden by and then sauntered back to its group.

We headed down to Dublin passing back into and out of Northern Ireland again. The only way you can tell you are changing countries is that the road distance signs suddenly switch from Kilometers to Miles and the currency changes from Euros to Pounds. We had a few soggy days where we arrived at our accommodation for the night dripping wet. Fortunately there weren't a lot of other tourists around so no one had to be annoyed by our wet gear hanging from every available space. Despite the weather we still had a great time constantly climbing and descending hills and enjoying the secluded old roads that sometimes had grass growing through the asphalt.

We met a lot of friendly people even if we couldn't always understand what they were saying to us. One afternoon as we were sitting at a small table in a grocery store scarfing down a quick lunch a man burst through the door handed us each a Mars bar, told us he had passed us while we were struggling up a steep hill, shook our hands and immediately left. We barely had a chance to even say thanks to him.

One of the more bizarre experiences for me was parking my bike outside a convenience store in a small town called Donegal and turning around to see a Tim Horton's sign. I was quite excited and confused until I entered and discovered that "Tim Horton's" consisted of some canisters of Tim's coffee that you could use to make your own coffee and some very stale feeling doughnuts wrapped in saran wrap.

After a few days exploring Dublin and sampling more Guinness and a number of craft beers it was time for me to make my way back to Scotland to return my rented mule. There is a lot more to Ireland I would love to see so I am sure I will be back one day!

Island Hopping

October 13, 2014 by Chelsea Rieger

Another couple of outstanding weeks on a bicycle and an an adventure or two along the way. Last we left off Ty and I were waiting out a windstorm on the Outer Hebrides. Since we were both crazy enough to be cycling the island chain right into the predominant wind direction we teamed up and have spent the last couple of weeks traveling together.

The advantages of traveling with another person became immediately evident as we set out the next morning with the winds still quite strong. It was nice to have someone to share the misery of fighting the wind with. The scenery continued to be amazing with the treeless wind swept hills and ocean providing the backdrop to our ride. We did catch an amazingly lucky break when we reached the wall of hills that we needed to climb up and over. The road miraculously switchbacked so that we were perfectly aligned to have the wind push us up the hill. With my rain jacket acting as a sail I barely had to pedal as we were propelled half way up the climb.

After another day of cycling and a short ferry ride we reached a tiny island called Berneray. It is so small that you can walk around it in a day. Here we found one of the most incredible hostels I have ever stayed at. We rode our bikes along a beautiful coastline away from civilization and eventually ended up at a secluded stone cottage with a traditional thatched roof perched right on the edge of the ocean. You couldn't ask for a more perfect location. We were immediately greeted by Ian a friendly Brit who comes to stay on a regular basis. He had a basket of freshly caught crabs which he graciously shared with us. That night with a few bottles of whiskey making the rounds we listened to ghost stories while a coal fire kept us nice and toasty warm. A perfect ending to an already incredible day.

The next morning the winds returned and blew unabated all day and night. We spent the day exploring the island by foot and discovered the uninhabited western side of the island which contains miles of untouched perfect white sand beach. Another night spent staying warm while listening to the winds howl outside. Before heading to bed we packed up our gear sad to be leaving such an incredible place in the morning. When we awoke in the morning to even more ferocious winds we realized the weather had granted us the perfect excuse not to leave. As we were relaxing and enjoying some down time in the early afternoon all of the sudden something seemed not right. It took a few moments to realize that the sound of the wind had completely stopped. It was like someone had suddenly hit the Off switch. A very eerie feeling when after two days of the wind providing a constant soundtrack everything suddenly goes silent.

One more night and we awoke to a glassy ocean that 24 hours previously had been filled with angry whitecaps. We wasted no time taking advantage of the break in the weather and continued south through flat, but still beautiful landscapes. We also learned an important lesson about taking the advice of kind old ladies in Tourist Offices. We had an afternoon to kill waiting for a ferry so on her advice we headed further south to see some sites. She told us there was an old road that followed the main highway that we could ride on so we set off and found the old road. All was well at first, but then the condition of the road slowly began to deteriorate. We eventually ended up trapped by some sort of construction site and a farm fence. Not wanting to have to backtrack we unloaded all of our gear tossed it over the fence, lifted the bikes over and then climbed over ourselves. After loading back up we negotiated a steep grassy slope to finally reach the main highway. It was well worth the effort though as we visited a smoked seafood store where we bought this incredible peat smoked salmon.

The ferry took us over to Isle of Skye, an island that is so close to the mainland of Scotland that it is connected by a bridge. This is the place you constantly get told to go see when you visit Scotland. It became immediately obvious that we were back in the land of tourists as it became more common to hear North American accents than Scottish ones. After the remoteness of the Outer Hebrides where you get a friendly wave from the very few cars that do pass you the shock of buses filled with tourists and busy highway traffic detracted from the beauty of the giant mountain peaks which are the main highlight.

After taking three days to cycle down the length of the island we finally set foot back on the mainland. Since I have a couple of nagging injuries I can't seem to cure I opted to take the train to Glasgow where I am currently hanging out and resting up for my next excursion to Northern Ireland. It is strange being back in a big city, but Glasgow has a good vibe and interesting old buildings to check out. I am excited to back on the road soon with a few more stories to tell.

Onwards to Scotland

October 02, 2014 by Chelsea Rieger

A new continent and a new country to explore. I am currently in the far northwest of Scotland on the Isle of Lewis safely waiting out a nasty windstorm in a cozy hostel so I have some downtime to recount my adventures. I landed in London a little over three weeks ago and after a lot of questioning by a border guard about my long list of previous travels I was allowed to enter the United Kingdom. It was a crazy transition from the remote reaches of Mongolia to the monstrous city of London. I spent my time there navigating between all of the main tourist attractions and doing a lot of walking. It was an interesting city, but I was completely overwhelmed and on my last afternoon I escaped to a movie theater just to have some quiet time. The best part was getting to meet up with friends whom I traveled with in Tibet and China and going out for some traditional London curry. I left behind the hustle of London and after a series of trains and a bus landed in a small town in Scotland called Blairgowrie. I spent the few days before and after the referendum vote there and it was interesting to discuss the issues over a pint at the local bar and see the campaigns that were displayed everywhere around town. It was an odd ending as the day after the vote it seemed like everyone just fell back into their normal routines. No analysis, no complaining just life continuing on as usual. I left Blairgowrie with my worldly possessions strapped onto a rented bicycle and cycled out into the unknown. Only two weeks into my ride and it has already been a crazy series of events that has tested me in a number of ways. I started off following one of the marked cycle paths that are all over the United Kingdom. It was fantastic as it takes you on a winding series of cycle only pathways and quiet streets so you don't have to cycle on the busy narrow main highways. I soon discovered a new pace of life passing through tiny farming communities on single lane roads, going miles and miles without seeing another soul and feeling like I might be the only person left in the world. The cycle path did lead to a few amusing moments. Since you are riding on everything from dirt paths to highways it can be easy to miss a sign. One morning I found myself riding through the middle of a golf course until I came to a dead end between the 12th and 13th tee. As I backtracked some kind old ladies pointed me in the right direction. As I headed north spending my days cycling and nights camping at local town campsites I was smiled upon by the unpredictable Scottish weather. I will be forever thankful that as I was easing into the cycling routine I had mostly sunshine along my way. I cycled each day with a big smile plastered on my face. There is something so incredible about cycling beside old stone walls, past grey stone buildings and over and through ancient arched bridges. It was like stepping back in time. My journey changed quite dramatically as I reached the true northern highlands. The landscape became windswept soaring hillsides and mountains dotted far less frequently by any sign of civilization in between tiny villages. The main highways became narrow single lane roads where you have to use small pullouts to pass oncoming traffic. I started buying groceries from glorified convenience stores that were frequently also the village gas station. As I reached the northwest coast I was treated to some phenomenal views of white sand beaches surrounded by dramatic sea cliffs. This is also the point I was introduced to the infamous Scottish winds that regularly blast the barren landscape here. It didn't help that I was headed directly into the predominant wind direction. I spent two days literally crawling along at a snail's pace thankful for even the tiniest 5 second break in the wind. There is nothing that can make you feel completely and utterly alone quite like riding head on into an unrelenting windstorm. I spent a fitful night trying to sleep as my tent wall collapsed regularly into my face. I woke up several times expecting my tent to be ripped to shreds or collapsed in a heap of broken poles and shredded fabric. Somehow I awoke in the morning with everything intact and after managing to pack my tent up set off again straight into the wind. The only thing that kept me going on this second day was knowing I had a warm place to stay that night. My friend James who I traveled with in Tibet lives in a small coastal village and had graciously offered to host me. After taking 5 hours to cover the distance of a marathon and realizing that most marathon runners can run that same distance in less time than it took me to cycle I had arrived in complete shambles on James' doorstep. I can't express how grateful I was to James to get to stay in his place with a postcard view of the bay below. I spent a couple nights there waiting out the rest of the windstorm, getting fed amazing food and getting a guided tour, not on bicycle, of the spectacular scenery all around. It is always hard to say goodbye especially knowing I was heading out on my own again, but with the winds calmer it was time to continue on westwards along the coast. The scenery is some of the most beautiful I have had the chance to see and really is indescribable with the variety of colors and features from ocean and sand to soaring rocky peaks. I made my way to the touristy town of Ullapool where I was excited to shop in a real grocery store and enjoy the amazing calm weather and blue skies. I have now made my way by ferry over to the Isle of Lewis and will be spending some time cycling south along the island chain known as the Hebrides. I haven't made it very far yet and a day of vicious winds has myself and my new cycling friend Ty holed up in our hostel waiting for some calmer weather tomorrow to continue on. I met Ty on the ferry and he is 7 months into a 2 year long cycle journey, so incredible! Last night we decided to head to the local pub for dinner which is about 7km away from our remote hostel. On the advice of one of the local ladies we set out walking with the hopes of hitching a ride. The only problem being that of the only 5 or 6 cars that passed us in an hour no one stopped. We were both disappointed as it was the first attempt at hitchhiking for both of us. A simple plan to eat some dinner turned into a 14km round trip odyssey, but I guess that is all part of the fun of traveling. It is a good thing that the walk back was fuelled by a couple of pints. It has been a good rest day, getting the bike tuned up and catching up on the internet. Hopefully some good weather lies around the corner. Until next time....

Western Mongolia

September 18, 2014 by Chelsea Rieger

I have really been procrastinating about writing this final post about Mongolia. Part of it is that I feel I can't think of a way to be concise and the other is that once I finish this post Mongolia is a finished chapter in my journey that I wasn't ready to be finished. Given that my next big adventure is starting up tomorrow it is now or never so here goes nothing...

My final trip in Mongolia took me to the far western reaches of the country. I flew into the city of Olgii, a dusty frontier town surrounded by massive barren peaks. Just to give you an idea of how remote Olgii is, if you take the bus from Ulaanbaatar, the capital, it is a 50 to 60 hour non stop ordeal assuming that you don't have any major breakdowns. That was one flight I was more than happy to pay for. The Western area around Olgii is fascinating culturally because the area is inhabited mostly by people who originally came from Kazakhstan. The main language is Kazakh, all of the TV is programming is from Kazakhstan and most kids head to Kazakhstan to attend University instead of Ulaanbaatar. The area became predominantly Kazakh after the Soviet Union sealed the borders where the Kazakh herders used to freely pass between Mongolia and Kazakhstan. Those that were in Mongolia were forced to remain.

For the first part of the trip a friend and myself set off in a Land cruiser with a Mongolian driver who spoke no English or Kazakh and an English speaking Kazakh guide who only spoke a bit of Mongolian. It made for interesting communication between all of us. We drove through the spectacular countryside with the main goal of reaching the mountain range that separates Mongolia from Russia. The area was beautiful with high snowy mountain peaks and we camped beside a massive glacier for two nights. Unfortunately the one day of bad weather coincided with our planned day to hike up to the top of one of the peaks. In the morning as we set out it looked like it might clear up, but as we switchbacked up the steep trail things got worse and worse. My friend Kris and I battled on through winds so strong that I was being knocked off balance with every step I took. The snow was painfully blasting us sideways on the face and the clouds were so socked in that we couldn't see anything around us. We admitted defeat just before we reached the final exposed ridge which was disappointing, but the safer option. Other than that we had gorgeous sunny days to explore the pristine rivers, lakes, hills and even ancient petroglyphs in the area. It is not often you get to experience scenery like that without massive crowds of people so I cherished every minute of our time in such an incredible area of the world.

Through a series of very fortunate coincidences the second part of my trip had me joining some friends from Poland, a mother and her two kids, who are traveling around the world for a year, to stay with an eagle hunter and his family. In this small region of Mongolia there is a long tradition of training eagles to hunt that is handed down from father to son. It was an amazing experience and one of the highlights of my entire trip.

The family we stayed with were incredibly welcoming and kept us very well fed. We drank Kazakh milk tea 4-6 times a day and ate goat meat in various forms every single day. On our very first night we were welcomed with a special meal which involved eating the goat's head. We ate everything including the skin, eyes and brain. The next day for lunch we ate the stomach. I loved every minute of these new food experiences. The Kazakh style of eating is also interesting and everyday we ate from a communal dish in the middle of the table. No individual plates or bowls. You just grab your spoon and dig in with everyone else around the table.

During our time there we learned about eagle training and had some opportunities to have the eagle land on our arm while holding out meat for it. The eagles are massive so it was a terrifying and exhilarating experience to be holding the eagle with your arm shaking because of the weight as it swallows massive pieces of meat in mere seconds.

We rode horses all over the area. Checking out petroglyphs, picking local berries and visiting other families. We met another eagle hunter who along with his son was featured in the BBC documentary series "Human Planet". I can't wait to get a chance to watch it.

Our stay also coincided with 2 different horse races and a wrestling event in the nearby village. We were so fortunate to get to experience these. The horses are ridden bareback by the kids and the speeds are impressive. There is a lot of honor in owning a fast horse and most people have the medals their horses have won prominently displayed inside their gers. The wrestling is also quite impressive and is over as soon as one person touches the ground. It can be over in a matter of seconds if you aren't paying attention. Events like these also mean it is time to celebrate which means drinking vodka shots. Let's just say that I have no desire to consume vodka for at least a year after the celebrations we were apart of.

The other great thing was being apart of the daily life. Collecting water from the river and hauling it back to the ger, helping stack grass for the winter in big piles. Learning to catch goats and tie them into a line for milking and then milking said goats. Spending the evenings playing card games, watching intense chess matches and listening to the evening radio report which broadcasts relevant local news to all of the far flung nomadic families.

Then there were the fun times playing soccer with the local kids with piles of manure marking goal posts. We even got some of the men to come out and play. There was the special event of riding cows bareback. My turn saw me make a pretty spectacular fall right into a pile of poo, but it was all part of the fun.

It really was a spectacular way to end my time in Mongolia and it made the process of leaving all the more difficult. After almost two months I still wasn't ready to go, but sadly my expiring visa meant I had no choice. I will return because I have been to nowhere else in the world that compares. The wide open spaces, people truly living off of the land and the hospitality and kindness I was shown have made Mongolia my favorite country that I have ever visited.

Gobi Desert

August 20, 2014 by Chelsea Rieger

Another excursion in Mongolia complete and only one more to go before my visa runs out and I am forced to leave this amazing country. My latest travels took me on a 5 day route through a small piece of the Gobi desert and all I can say is wow.

I found a company that organizes trips where you stay with local nomadic families. The families earn some extra money by hosting you and feeding you and you experience first hand their day to day life. What an incredible insight into a way of life that is so far removed from anything in North America. Armed only with a Mongolian-English phrasebook provided by the company I set off on a bus with a couple from the UK/Ireland to begin our nomadic journey.

The adventure started at the bus station where as soon as I stepped out of the taxi and before I had even begun to try and decipher the Cyrillic names on the buses to figure out which one I needed to be on some man immediately came over to help me out. He looked at my ticket, took me over to talk to another group of people and then handed me over to another man who escorted me right to the door of my bus. These small acts of kindness are part of what makes traveling such an incredible experience.

On the bus ride out we left the green hills of Ulaanbaatar and headed into barren scrubby desert landscape. A lady sitting in front of me took an interest in me and began speaking in Mongolian to me. Lost for a reply I pulled out my phrasebook and she immediately forced the man sitting next to her to get up and switch seats with me. She spent the next hour teaching me Mongolian, showing me photos of her family and communicating with a series of charades. A great way to pass the time on a long journey. Mongolian is an extremely difficult language to learn. Many of the sounds of the language don't exist in English which led to much amusement of the other passengers sitting around me listening to my feeble attempts at pronunciation.

At the bus station we were met by a driver and the three of us piled into an ancient Soviet jeep and we set off into the remote desert on dirt tracks that led through an absolutely desolate landscape. We got our first taste of just how massive the desert is and just how easy it would be to get lost with no trees, signs or features to orient yourself with. After a couple of hours of flying over bumps, fishtailing in sand and generally fun offroading we arrived at our first ger and were left to start our journey between families.

It was an amazing experience as we were forced to communicate with the families only speaking small amounts of English and us only speaking small amounts of Mongolian. Since the families still had to go about their daily lives we spent the 5 days with absolutely no schedule and no idea what would happen next. We ate whenever food was served, left to go to the next family when we were told it was time to leave and just went with the flow. The families passed us off like a relay baton so we always had a guide to the next destination. We traveled by camel, horse cart, walking, clinging for dear life to the back of motorcycles and by car. Everyday was a new surprise for how we would get around.

We slept in traditional gers mostly on the ground with only a rug for cushioning. All the families we stayed with had two gers so we had a ger to ourselves to sleep in except for the first night. On the first night the ger we stayed in had one single bed where the mother and two daughters slept. The husband and the three of us lined up like sardines on the floor and settled in for what felt like a giant slumber party.

Now I can profess my love for the ger. It is an incredible structure built with a wooden frame and a felt covering. It is held together with only ropes and straps so that it can be disassembled and moved when needed. A central stove is used for cooking and heating in the cold. There are a number of ger customs that are followed so no matter which ger you enter you can expect it to be somewhat familiar. The door always faces South and to the North is always the altar area where religious items, family photos, awards and other meaningful objects are kept. To the west is where guests sit, but the North position is reserved for the most elder man of the house. You move around the ger in a clockwise direction and never whistle inside. The nomadic families have found ways to incorporate the modern into their lifestyle and every family we visited had a solar panel, TV, satellite dish and some batteries to run lights, charge cell phones etc. Talk about living off the grid! Since there are no trees in the desert dung is used for fuel. The other interesting feature of traditional Mongolian culture is that knocking does not exist. Anyone is free to simply enter at will.

Most families had herds of goats and sheep and I was completely humbled one morning by having a 6 year old girl teach me how to milk a goat. I was pretty terrible at it. This leads to the food. The families subsist almost entirely off of meat and dairy since that is what their animals provide. The only additions are flour and maybe pasta, rice and potatoes if you are lucky. We were well fed the entire time eating meat with rice, meat with pasta, meat dumplings, meat soup and for breakfast fried bread. I drank gallons of Mongolian milk tea, boiled milk with a tiny bit of tea and salt added. Every family has a thermos of hot tea and a plate of curd products ready for the arrival of visitors. The curd products took a bit of getting used to, but I now have an appreciation for them.

The most bizarre food experience came on my last day. We stopped off on our way back to town to pick up a full goat, skinned and gutted, from a family to take to town. While we were there a giant bowl full of the cooked innards of the goat appeared and my driver began filling a small bowl with random goat guts for me. I am still not exactly sure what I ate, but as far as I can tell I think I had some liver and intestine that I think was full of cooked blood. I tried a bit of everything and stomached enough to be polite before handing the bowl back for him to finish off.

The scenery in the desert was beautiful. The sheer vastness was awe inspiring with gorgeous sunsets and views that extended for miles and miles. The highlight was a rocky area full of giant boulder hills, caves and strange formations. We were so lucky to experience the silence of the desert, such a relief after spending almost a week in the crazy city of Ulaanbaatar.

Of course, the main highlight was the families we met along the way. They all welcomed us in with open arms and we were able to laugh despite our limited communication. The kids were incredible. We had an 11 year old boy lead us on a long trek to the next ger through the hot afternoon sun. He also ripped around on a motorbike all on his own to do various chores and took care of his two younger sisters. We had three young girls prepare a play dinner for us using broken dishes, sand and flowers they had picked. They took us to a hill to watch the sunset and showed us how to play some traditional Mongolian games. It was amazing watching them keep themselves entertained with very little. My favorite was a 6 year old boy who had an old wooden stick with an old motorcycle throttle and grips attached. He spent hours running around pretending to be riding a motorcycle complete with very realistic sound effects.

My final adventure came due to some poor planning on my part. When I arrived at the bus station back in Ulaanbaatar I needed to take a taxi back to my hostel. Stupidly I had no map, no address and no telephone number and the English name of the place meant nothing to the taxi driver. I tried a series of tactics to explain where I needed to go including trying to make train noises since my hostel is near the train station. The driver was completely confused by my poor attempts. By the end I had a huge group of people trying to help as he kept calling people over, but no one spoke any English. Eventually using a shopping bag from a store near my hostel I was able to communicate the general direction we needed to go. I have never been so happy as I was when we got close enough to my hostel that I could get out and walk the rest of the way.

Tomorrow I leave Ulaanbaatar once again to head out to Western Mongolia where the mountains are. I am so excited to get out and do some hiking. Until next time please have a look at my photos of the Gobi which are posted at the usual place:

https://plus.google.com/112392129776163836192

The Frontiers of Mongolia

August 10, 2014 by Chelsea Rieger

I have spent the last 3 weeks driving on my home away from home truck named Zara through northern and central Mongolia. Once again I have been awed by another unique and incredible country. I am already plotting future journeys here and I haven't even left yet.

To understand my journey there are a few basics about Mongolia that need to be explained. A large portion of the population here live a nomadic lifestyle herding flocks of sheep, goats, yaks and horses. There are 30 million livestock compared to a population of 3 million. A typical family will live in a traditional ger (aka yurt) which is a round wooden structure covered in material and heated by a central wood stove. The families will move their ger 2-4 times a year taking their animals to different grazing areas and to locations where they can survive the harsh winters. Almost all of the land in Mongolia is unowned and therefore there are no fences and no restrictions on where you can set up your ger. It is a difficult concept to wrap your head around coming from a culture where land ownership is so important, but incredible to see. There is very little farming so the traditional diet consists of lots of dairy products and meat.

The people are extremely friendly as the nomadic society relies on the kindness of others to support travelers by offering food, shelter and directions. There is no such thing as knocking in Mongolian culture so you can enter someone's ger simply by shouting out "hold the dogs" to announce your arrival. There are very few paved roads in Mongolia so a lot of travel is done on bumpy, ever changing dirt roads. In some places there are multiple trails all diverging which makes navigating a bit of a nightmare especially across many of the areas where there are rolling plains and no features to use as landmarks. Road signs are almost nonexistent as well.

The other pivotal tool available to the nomadic people is the Mongolian horse. Horses are everywhere and when they aren't being ridden they are allowed to roam free with the rest of the other livestock. Horses, and nowadays motorcycles are uses for herding and for transportation. Just as kids in Canada learn to skate as soon as they can walk the kids in Mongolia are learning to ride horses as soon as they can. Many times we would see kids who couldn't be older than about 5 or 6 out on their own on their horse, sometimes even bareback. Many times a younger sibling would be clutching onto the back.

Our journey took us through some incredible landscapes with a mixture of bush camping in the middle of open expanses and staying at tourist Ger camps which are essentially like campgrounds except you stay in gers and eat meals in a central restaurant. These were a nice break from camping as you could usually get a hot shower. Swimming in lakes and rivers, visiting hot springs, hiking anywhere and everywhere were all part of my daily routine.

I can describe the endless miles of rolling green hills and massive blue skies interrupted only by the occasional patch of gers and roaming herds of livestock, but you need to come to Mongolia to truly experience it. The pink sunsets, the ever shifting weather that always seems to end in a rainbow and the brilliant night skies were the icing on the cake.

In the northern region we visited a stunning lake and hiked in the nearby mountains. I rode horses a couple of times to try out the Mongolian mode of transport. I met a local herder while out wandering the countryside and we had a conversation without any language. I slept outside under the stars as often as I could. There is nothing better than staring up at a completely clear sky that is full of brilliant stars. We visited the gers of some local families, climbed a volcano crater and petted some reindeer that belonged to a family. To top it off we visited a number of ancient ruins and museums and Buddhist monasteries.

On top of all of the amazing experiences the food was fantastic. We ate almost every kind of animal that was available in the markets sheep, yak, beef and for the first time in my life I ate horse. The strangest thing I tried was marmot. Some locals prepared it for us by scooping out the insides and filling it with hot rocks to cook it. The hair is then burned off the outside and just like that you have a fully cooked marmot. The skin is extremely thick and chewy and has a thick layer of fat, but the meat inside was juicy and delicious. Traditional Mongolian food is heavy on meat and dairy since so few vegetables are grown here. Dumplings come in two types, fried and boiled and are delicious meat filled treats. Noodle and dumpling soup with meat is delicious and can also be eaten for breakfast. The most common drink that is found everywhere is fermented mare's milk. Not my favorite as it is like drinking slightly soir milk. Other dairy products include yougurt, a type of whipped cream, curds and cheese. The most interesting product that comes from milk is the local vodka. Who knew you could make vodka from yogurt.

Now that I am back in Ulaanbaatar I am trying to plan some further Mongolian adventures. Stay tuned for the next installment.

Photos are finally up to date at:
https://plus.google.com/112392129776163836192

China to Mongolia by Train

August 09, 2014 by Chelsea Rieger

Despite all of my travels I had not yet been on a long distance train so I was excited to ride the rails all of the way from Beijing to Ulaanbaatar, the capital city of Mongolia. In total the journey took about 28 hours to complete. It soon became apparent that we were heading into a different world as we left behind the buildings of Beijing and entered remote farmland with nothing, but small villages on the horizon. The fertile green land then gave way to more barren desert as we chugged along.

We stayed in small 4 person cabins with two bunk beds so it was cozy quarters with nothing but a small fan to help dissipate the heat. The main highlight of the train journey is that when you pull into the border crossing around 10pm the width of the railway track changes and therefore the undercarriage of every single car must be changed. The Russian track that they use in Mongolia and Russia is different than the standard track used in the rest of the world. It was exciting to watch from the train as we entered a shed and hydraulic lifts were used to jack up the train and swap out the wheels. It was a rough night as first a Chinese official came and collected our passports. After falling asleep we were all awoken when he came back to return them. The whole process was repeated by the Mongolian officials and finally after being awoken for one final time at 3am we were on our way in Mongolia.

In the morning I awoke to an empty landscape of rolling hills covered only with scrubby grass. We made stops in a couple of tiny towns and then entered some greener landscapes as we moved closer to Ulaanbaatar. It was a strange day as I experienced a kind of culture shock upon entering Mongolia like I have never really felt before. I had been in China so long that even though I can't speak Chinese or read any signs I was comfortable with the way things worked there. Crossing over into Mongolia was like entering a completely different world. All of the sudden all of the signs were in Cyrillic and the houses instead of having Chinese style roofs and brick walls were whitewashed cubes with brightly colored corrugated tin roofs. I was in for another surprise when I headed to the dining car and the car was completely different than the day before. During the middle of the night border transfer they had simply attached a completely different Mongolian dining car. Using a fork to eat for the first time in a few months also felt completely alien. My disorientation continued as we entered the city. The outskirts of the city was dotted with Gers, the famous round canvas tents that the nomads in Mongolia live in. Even listening to the sounds of the Mongolian language was disorienting as I was so used to the sound of Chinese even though I couldn't understand the words.

The best part of arriving in Mongolia was reuniting with my friend Ines who I traveled through Tibet with. I was so thankful that she arrived a few days before me and was able to lead me around town while I tried to absorb all the differences from China. The different architecture of the buildings, new streets to navigate. One of the most important things is understanding the local drivers so you don't get run over. In this regard Mongolia was the same as China. Pedestrians have no rights even if there is a walk sign at a crosswalk you must let cars do what they want.

My first few days in the city were fun. Visiting a history museum that covered Mongolian history from ancient civilizations to Ghengis (it is actually Chinggis) Kahn to the present day. The part I find most fascinating is that Mongolia in the early 90's was able to escape Soviet control with all of its hallmarks of collectivization and state control and establish their own democratic society. Quite the feat for a nation of 3 million people sandwiched between Russia and China.

The city itself can feel quite bleak as many of the buildings are rundown drab concrete relics from the Soviet era, but there are some interesting areas to visit as well that include a large Buddhist monastery, a strange communist statue/viewing platform. UB is definitely a little rough around the edges as it is the only major city in Mongolia. Lots of alcoholism, some street kids and it is renowned for pick pockets so you have to be really vigilant after not really worrying so much in China.

One of the most famous attractions in UB is the massive market where you can buy pretty much anything. Clothes, horse saddles, housewares, a ger, refrigerators, solar panels and food. A very interesting place to just wander around. Since a large majority of the Mongolian population still live a nomadic lifestyle UB is a giant meeting place where everyone converges. It was interesting to see the city of UB, but after a few days I was more than ready to escape to the unpopulated wilderness. The best parts of Mongolia are yet to come so check out my next post on my journeys through the central and northern regions of Mongolia!

Tibet to Beijing

August 09, 2014 by Chelsea Rieger

Hi everyone, I apologize for my absence of posts, but now that I have some free time I am catching up on my journey starting with my time in China. It's difficult to know where to start in recounting my time in China. It is a place of extremes, amazing scenery and wild areas compared to monstrous cities filled with the haze. Soaring skylines consisting of crane after crane versus ancient temples, fort walls and buildings. Communist statues, posters and signs surrounded by bustling free market enterprise. There are things I love about China and things I hate, but it is like no other place I have traveled to thus far.

I'll start off with government control in China. Upon entering Tibet and all through China all access to Facebook and any Google product was blocked. Fortunately I could still access my gmail, but receiving and sending emails was painstakingly slow (an average of 30 minutes to send a simple text email). It also took a long time to get out of the habit of using Google as a search engine. It was pretty funny the first time a group of us realized that we couldn't "Google it" and were at a loss as to how to search info on the web without Google. We finally remembered that Yahoo still exists and that became the preferred search engine. A lot of news articles and sights were also blocked. The CBC must be in China's bad books since the website wouldn't even load. Any article about the Tiannamen square massacre anniversary was blocked. There still seems to be a deep respect for Mao and other communist leaders. His picture is plastered everywhere and the line up in Tiannamen square to view his body was massive. All throughout China we would go to restaurants that had board displaying pictures of Marx, Lenin, Stalin, Mao and some other Chinese communist leaders.

Which brings me to the massive police presence at all of the big sights in Beijing. To get into Tiannamen square we had to have our bags scanned like at the airport. The same holds true for every single subway station where you have to scan your bag and go through security after purchasing your ticket.

Everywhere we went felt extremely safe and the people were always welcoming and friendly. My dislike of crowds however was put to the ultimate test during this leg of the trip because almost everywhere we went was absolutely packed with people. We met very few non-Chinese tourists along the way which meant we were often the source of a lot of curiosity and photos.

I have been to a lot of famous tourist sites over the past few weeks of driving from Tibet to Beijing, but the things I will remember most are the trial and error experiences of surviving in China. Since there wasn't a lot of English around there were a few key lessons:

1. How to count on your fingers. The Chinese system for counting numbers 1 through 10 is done on one hand. This skill was extremely important for ordering and determining prices.

2. Always take the hotel card with you. Since very few people speak English it is vital to always have a card with the hotel address written on it in Chinese with you. If you get lost and need to get back that little card is invaluable. Most hotels had a card with "Please drive me to ..." written in both Chinese and English. It may make you feel like a 5 year old carrying it around, but it only takes one experience of not quite knowing the name of your hotel to never forget the card again.

3. The female symbol. You occasionally come across washrooms that have no English or pictures depicting which is male and which is female. After one incident of just picking one and thankfully picking correctly, I made sure to memorize the Chinese character for female.

4. Ordering food. Restaurants that have pictures of food on the wall or picture menus are invaluable. You may not always get what is shown in the picture, but it is still better than guessing. Other ordering options involve pointing to other people's food or using a cell phone translator. Results may vary, but you at least get a good story out of it when it all goes wrong.

Speaking of food, one of the best parts of travel in China is the food. All I can say is the Chinese food I am familiar with at home does not compare with the amazing variety of delicious fresh dishes I have eaten over the past month here. The greasy deep fried Chinese food we get in North America doesn't do justice to the real thing. It doesn't matter if you are eating on the side of a street sitting on a tiny stool or in a fancy restaurant the food is incredible. Every region has its own specialties and I ate an amazing variety of food along the way.

The worst part of traveling in China has to go to the toilets. Granted there are a lot of very clean and nice toilets, but the ones that are bad are really bad. Gas station toilets are notoriously disgusting and I have some images etched into my brain that I really wish I could erase.

The biggest highlight of all for me in China was visiting the Great Wall. It is a place I have long dreamed about visiting so to actually be standing on the wall and watching it snake across rugged mountain peaks as far as the eye can see was surreal. I hiked for around 4 hours and shockingly for the most part had the wall completely to myself. It was tough going in the over 30 °C weather climbing up and down steep staircases, but worth every drop of sweat.

One of the other memorable moments for me was visiting a "hanging" monastery. Essentially a very narrow set of walkways suspended on the side of a cliff to view some ancient Buddha statues. I was quite unnerved as once we got onto the walkways we were trapped in a single file lineup with no escape and railings that were less than waist high with nothing, but a drop off the cliff to look at. Combining my two greatest fears, heights and crowded places, made for some tense moments until I was able to get back to the safety of solid ground.

The rest of the time in China was spent exploring temples, cities, museums and some of the other major tourist attractions such as the Terracotta warriors. The cities were especially fascinating as almost every city we entered had massive sky rise projects in work with crane after crane dotting the skyline. We couldn't figure out what all the buildings are for since many buildings that are completed since to be less than half full. Mix in these massive modern buildings with old walled fortress areas in the middle of some cities and it makes for a confusing mix of old and new.

My final stop I'm China was in Beijing which much to my surprise I enjoyed quite a bit. We were extremely lucky and had two days of beautiful blue smog free skies. We stayed in an old part of the city and the atmosphere was great. One of the main highlights in Beijing, besides all of the famous sights, was finding a tiny little restaurant that served burgers and poutine. It is nice to find some food from home every once in awhile, but you normally walk away disappointed when the local take on western food isn't quite what you were expecting. This place however didn't disappoint. The burgers tasted like they came off a backyard grill complete with ketchup, mustard and mayonnaise and I introduced some British friends to the joys of poutine.

I really enjoyed my time in China, but I was extremely excited to escape the cities and the crowds by leaving one of the most populated countries I'm the world and traveling to one of the least populated.

If you want to see more of my China travels my photos are uploaded at the usual location:

https://plus.google.com/112392129776163836192