I felt tempted to call my journal "To France the Wrong Way". Travelling in the other direction would have definitely increased our cycling pleasure - and speed. The joyous faces of the cyclists coming towards us, propelled by strong tailwinds, made this very apparent.

But why label our trip as wrong? Of course it wasn't the wrong way. But maybe the hard way? It was obviously the long way. From Munich to the nearest French border would be about 300 km, we crossed the border after approximately 2,300 km.

From the beginning our route was a bit arbitrary. We wanted to do an open-end trip, look up some family and friends, cycle where we hadn't cycled before and not kill ourselves on too many steep climbs. Our route filled the bill in all respects. We are the living proof.

The experience of not setting a date or place for the end of the trip was new. I was looking forward to a kind of nomad life with no time restraints other than those imposed by the seasons, travelling and resting when we felt like it. I now have a less idealized picture of the gypsy life for myself and find I am actually quite fond of structuring our routes.

The first destination was Berlin to see granddaughter Sarah. This took us through scenic parts of Bavaria, a bit of the Czech Republic and much of the previous GDR, which after 20 years still has its own distinct character.

Once in Berlin the question was whether to proceed east or west. We decided to go west and set our sights for Hamburg, a city I had never visited. From there we continued through parts of northern Germany very different from our surroundings in Bavaria, then on to Holland.

In Holland we crossed the 32-km long dike - strong headwinds the whole way - and worked our way down the coast and across the Hollandse Delta. And work it was. We had continual, strong southwest winds every day and often rain - but more of that in the day to day account. Our friends from den Haag weren't home so we continued south.

I had hoped for a miracle but the wind didn't stop at the Belgian border - we had plenty of rain and wind on our way to Bruges. Our route through Belgium was short and we were soon in France and expecting, or rather praying for, better weather away from the coast. Our first stop in France was in Lille where we surprised Cathie and Ming by coming from Munich by bike to visit them - friends I hadn't seen since our teachng days in China 17 years ago.

Our next stop was Amiens and then Rouen. We were now in Normandy and still being treated to hefty winds and generous amounts of rain. By this time we had chalked up close to 2,400 km, but the weather had slowed us down considerably. We realized we still had a way to go to my sister's house near Toulouse, many miles to the south. Thoroughly fed up with fighting headwinds, we decided to end the cycling part of our trip in Rouen. We took a train to Toulouse, stayed two weeks with my sister and then returned to Munich, also by train.

Heart

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