tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-259969852023-07-19T19:12:29.989-07:00 Go·See·DoAn occasional journal of the Life of ReillyDorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.comBlogger229125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-80374074772407500742018-07-23T16:04:00.000-07:002018-12-09T15:50:13.569-08:00Berlin, Germany: A Family Circuit
A bit of a confession: This last post of our 2018 trip was written over four months after we returned home. The distractions of everyday life exacerbated a case of writer's block. But I finished the post before the end of the year, so no need to include it on my list of New Year's resolutions!
We had only three weeks remaining of our travels after leaving Prague. We took to the hills for Dorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-26856549235236532302018-07-01T07:43:00.000-07:002018-12-08T14:23:33.071-08:00Prague, Czech Republic: A Favorite City
Have you been to Prague? No? You must put it on the list. Yes? Then our infatuation with the city will be no surprise to you. For us, it was all about the architecture. Splendid buildings around every corner from the Gothic, Renaissance, and Baroque eras. Apparently the city was not rebuilt in the 18th and 19th centuries like many other European capitals because it was only a Dorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-47053489696400546902018-06-28T10:30:00.000-07:002018-12-08T14:25:46.285-08:00Karlstejn, Czech Republic: Castles Across BohemiaAfter Vienna the Danube River takes a more east-west path, cleanly separating the top third of Austria from the more mountainous southern part. The river goes through what is known as the Wachau valley, winding through steep hills dotted with vineyards. We stayed at a couple of odd campgrounds, both with just small grass areas for tent campers. The bathrooms were on the other side of the road, Dorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-21962305831885395362018-06-16T08:27:00.000-07:002018-12-08T14:27:15.904-08:00Vienna, Austria: Linking Cities on the DanubeThe EuroVelo is a network of 15 bike routes that criss-cross the European continent. By far the most popular is Route 6, which starts in France and ends 4,400 kilometers later at the Black Sea. The section we followed out of Budapest was marked by signs that directed cyclists to off-road bike trails or low-traffic roads. It becomes kind of a game to look for the signs, usually posted at key Dorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-67211917124314129162018-06-07T07:09:00.000-07:002018-12-08T14:28:51.910-08:00Budapest, Hungary: Where the Hills EndThese things happen. Somehow I lost about 100 pictures of our three day sojourn through Slovenia. A lesson to not do even simple computer tasks after cycling in hot and humid conditions for six hours. So there are no images to prove we were there, just a few credit card receipts. These things happen.
We headed due north from Plitvick Lakes into Slovenia rather than staying in Croatia and goingDorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-17385846068416676102018-05-25T07:19:00.002-07:002018-12-08T14:29:52.856-08:00Plitvicka Jezera National Park, Croatia: Conga Line in the Garden of EdenIt is a mixed blessing to wake up to clouds in the morning. On the positive side, it means that when grinding up a long grade, at least the sweat doesn't wash all the sunscreen off your face and into your eyes. But it also means, when you get to the top of whatever you invested all that energy into, the view might be less than spectacular. So it was when we left our waterfall camp at Knin and Dorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-13802256154174120952018-05-21T07:08:00.000-07:002018-12-08T14:30:51.774-08:00Knin, Croatia: Island Escape to the HinterlandsThe ride into Dubrovnik rattled us enough to have John rethink our planned route up the Croatia coast. Too many buses, too many trucks, not enough shoulder. We weren't alone in our thinking. We met a couple of French girls bike touring north, and they fashioned a cardboard sign asking for a hitch to the city of Split. A solo Australian cyclist had the same idea as us -- go island hopping. Dorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-6608052261906903572018-05-18T07:08:00.000-07:002018-12-08T14:31:58.306-08:00Dubrovnik, Croatia: A Gem on the Coast
After two months of
traveling we have adjusted to the sun's cycle. We are awake
with the first light, which at our current latitude is about 5am.
Also, our packing and breakfast routine is finely tuned at this
point, too, so we are on the road before 7am on most mornings.
And such was the case when we left the campground at Shkodra on a
misty morning after a humid night that finally Dorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-33943846695124397192018-05-12T01:09:00.000-07:002018-12-08T14:35:53.015-08:00Shkodra, Albania: The Grand (De)tourIt was just a few hours before we and our bikes boarded the plane to come to Europe that John read about a ferry in Albania that travels the length of Lake Koman, a long, skinny lake that passes through a gorge. So he made a cursory look at the map and saw that we could connect roads to get to the east side without too much alteration to the schedule, and we would get to spend time in Macedonia Dorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-64608169486989036852018-05-03T09:28:00.000-07:002018-12-08T14:35:32.543-08:00Berat, Albania: A New Country, One Week In We wasted no time in the morning that we crossed the border from Greece to Albania at Kakavia. We were there by noon, in line with the semi-trucks. Our passports were stamped on the Greek side without fanfare, and the Greek customs didn't seem to have any interest in inspecting our pannier contents. I would have gladly shared my dirty laundry. It was not more than half a kilometer of no-man's Dorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-73949765534750779742018-04-26T12:06:00.000-07:002018-12-08T14:38:17.563-08:00Kataras Pass, Greece: It Means CurseWe knew it was going to be a big day, so we were up at dawn and wheeling out of the campground in Meteora by 7:30 in the morning. It was a gift of 10 level kilometers before starting to climb. We assumed the uphill riding position and tempo, and maintained it for the next six hours, for an elevation gain of nearly 5,200 feet.
It was bright and clear morning for our climb. Kataras Pass is Dorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-84271309463584898732018-04-24T11:24:00.000-07:002018-12-08T14:40:01.144-08:00Kastraki, Greece: Passes, Plains, and PinnaclesFour days of cycling have passed since we left Delphi. We went up, we went down, we went across. And repeated the sequence again. And it has brought us to a most wonderful place, where geology and human engineering meet to make something special.
We left Delphi and cycled (uphill) to Arachova, expecting only to get food but instead discovering a lovely town. This is where many people Dorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-76024704516296321462018-04-19T11:14:00.001-07:002018-12-08T14:41:29.278-08:00Delphi, Greece: Navel of the EarthThe town of Patras is important for several reasons. It is a hub for large transport ferries that will shuttle people, cars and trucks to Corfu, a Greek island, and then to Italy. A few travelers in camper vans we met take this route to shorten the driving time to Greece, bypassing driving the coast through Croatia and Albania. We also saw groups of tents and Syrian young men hanging out near Dorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-64520209138351927232018-04-16T12:01:00.001-07:002018-12-08T14:46:03.461-08:00Peloponnese, Greece: Two Weeks in PicturesTwo weeks, four bike tourists, one peninsula. And a whole bunch of photos. So if you have some time, scroll on down and enjoy some of our favorite images and a few memories. And if you want to see our route, go to the "Routes" menu item at the top of the header, or click on this link.
Ann and Joe, our cool neighbors and travel buddies, left us this morning to continue on their own back to Dorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-79950673669887410662018-03-11T20:06:00.000-07:002018-12-08T14:46:16.014-08:00Bishop, CA: Shakedown Tour
One Sunday morning, a couple of weeks ago, we loaded our bikes and drove south an hour to the relative balminess and snow-free roads of Bishop. This was a fully-loaded day ride, a test of body and gear: a shakedown tour. We will soon be on a plane to Greece to begin our next bike tour, and a few things are different this time.
For one, there will be four of us. For first three weeks we Dorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com0Bishop, CA 93514, USA37.3614238 -118.399663637.3361838 -118.4400041 37.386663799999994 -118.3593231tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-51828613573511277672016-06-10T13:28:00.003-07:002018-12-11T12:01:59.037-08:00The (other) Sierra Nevada, Spain: Journey's EndA couple of days ago we crossed the Sierra Nevada. The one in California. Yes, alas, we are home again. It some ways it is nice -- to prepare a meal in an oven, to eat at a table with chairs, access to Trumpmania 24/7. Just a couple of weeks ago we were on another continent, crossing the other Sierra Nevada. The one in Spain.
We were about four days ahead of schedule to get back to Málaga, Dorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-89033384458507767962016-05-25T19:03:00.000-07:002018-12-11T12:00:45.775-08:00Granada, Spain: The Wonders of Two Cities
We are back in Andalusia, the Spanish region where we began our journey. We are making a loop, and it won't be long until we close the circle. We visited Cordoba and stood among the columns and arches of the Mezquita de Córdoba. In Granada I walked through the illuminated rooms of the Nasrid Palace of Alhambra late one night. These are two of the most wonderful places we have seen in all of Dorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-45988686845890551032016-05-22T07:24:00.000-07:002018-12-11T11:59:18.234-08:00Córdoba, Spain: Chasing Windmills and Don QuixoteIn the comfort of our hostal room in Segovia, John sucked up the wi-fi, alternating between the weather forecast and Google Maps, trying to decide the best route to Madrid. There are only a few options, and the most direct involve crossing mountain passes. As far as navigation goes, I trust John completely and and will follow him wherever he goes, content to pivot my gaze, looking for photo Dorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-26762500266021038022016-05-10T07:14:00.000-07:002018-12-11T11:57:34.029-08:00Segovia, Spain: Across the Hign PlateauFrom the Portugal border we continued east. The cities of Salamanca and Segovia were on our list to visit. Along the way we crossed wide open spaces dotted with an occasional small agricultural town. Along the way were stretches of canola fields so bright it almost hurts the eyes, oak forests, and an occasional pig farm. This elevation is still high here and the winters can be cold. With theDorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-39804585429193716742016-05-02T13:17:00.000-07:002018-12-11T11:48:44.967-08:00Guarda, Portugal: Along the Monastery TrailFrom Lisbon it took us twelve days to reach the Portugal-Spain border. We went a bit north, followed the coast for a day, and then made a right turn, and since the country is not all that wide, were out of Portugal way too soon. In this time were several layover days to string together, like pearls on a necklace, visits to palaces and monasteries and Roman ruins and picturesque cities. Such Dorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-79325201052914582016-04-20T07:42:00.000-07:002018-12-11T11:55:06.863-08:00Lisbon, Portugal: Hunting for AzulejosWe approached Lisbon from the south, leaving the hills of cork forests for one last day of cycling a stretch of flat and not-so-inspiring agricultural landscape to the town of Montijo. We were accompanied by a steady stream of traffic and trucks of pig manure...you can't see it but you know it's there. From Montijo it was a short and cheap ferry ride (3.25 euros apiece, and the bikes for free!) Dorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-65667298892968525392016-04-15T13:07:00.000-07:002018-12-11T11:42:30.799-08:00Évora, Portugal: Wanderings in an Old TownWe knew it would be a long day to get from Elvas to Évora. The persistent low spinning off the coast of Ireland that has been pumping wind and rain at us for the last week was due to send its next wave at 1pm (according to this app which we can't help ourselves from obsessively checking). The morning was fine, and after our quarry-gazing we even found a picnic table for lunch, which always putsDorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-50549320478343974172016-04-14T11:49:00.000-07:002018-12-11T11:41:34.685-08:00Borba, Portugal: Shopping for SlabsSome things really excite us. Like ancient engineering marvels that move water. So on the day we left rain-soaked Mérida to continue our journey west to Portugal, we were treated to not one, not two, but three superb examples.
The Aqueduct of San Lázaro in Mérida, built around the first century BC to bring water to the Roman city from a reservoir to the northeast.
Los Milagros Aqueduct Dorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-92048357350039460802016-04-12T12:55:00.002-07:002018-12-11T11:40:43.331-08:00Mérida, Spain: It Falls Mainly in the PlainOver the Sierra Norte de Sevilla we did ride, uphill for two very long days. This range is dry, and as we crawled up the steady grades there was not much more to look at than stately cork trees evenly spaced on the hillsides on either side of the road. Other than the occasional farmhouse, there was not much in the way of campgrounds, so we kept our eyes open for stealth camping opportunities. Dorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25996985.post-82064951289800890912016-04-07T13:14:00.000-07:002018-12-11T11:39:52.103-08:00Sevilla, Spain: Crunchy on the Outside, Sweet in the MiddleAfter a day of watching the skies weep with rain from our room at the Casa Gil in El Bosque, we were back on the road the next morning in the crispness of a freshly-washed world. We continued a downward descent into the plains, and just when we thought we were in for flat country, the hill-town of Arcos de la Frontera loomed like the a snow-capped peak.
Approaching Arcos de la Frontera. WeDorishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11513039627156338867noreply@blogger.com2