The final Saga

This, sadly for us,  is the final entry detailing our travels.  We will post in the weeks coming of our reflections on the year now that we’ve been home for almost 2 months.

Kaia wrote most of a very detailed blog about Iceland’s history, language and other key cultural elements as well as some of our activities.  But alas …. the web version of WordPress is also glitchy, and the 90% of her entry vapourized.  Agh!  She was leaving for camp that day so she’s left it to me to redo the entry.  Cam


Thanks “mormor” for your guest appearance on our blog last entry.  You noticed things that I didn’t even see! I will emphasize different things in my entry here.

Iceland has always seemed rather “epic” in my mind.   Everything about it seemed exaggerated; waterfalls, hot pools, volcanic activity, remoteness, midnight sun … and I never met someone who’d been there that wasn’t really taken with the country.  It seemed like a fitting “last stop” on our journey this year.  We were especially looking forward to the long days; the very northern tip of Iceland is just slightly north of the Arctic Circle and we would be there on the longest day of the year.  We were also looking forward to having mormor along for this leg of the journey.  She had already been to Iceland, twice, but wanted to experience it with us.

Iceland was first visited by Roman sailers in the 3rd century AD – likely blown off course.  They did not settle though.   Celtic monks followed in the early 800s.  Permanent settlement was begun by Norwegians and Celts in 874, when Infolfu Arnarson named his settlement “Reykjavik” which translates to “smoking harbour” (smoke from hotsprings).  Sixty years later (930) the settlers formed a government (Alþingi) that is now recognized by some historians as the earliest example of democratic government.  Most early settlers were fleeing strife in Norway – their king sounds like he wasn’t the easiest guy to get along with.  These people were vikings, and most of them worshiped Norse gods. Around the year 1000, King Olaf Tryggvason of Norway threatened to attack Iceland if they didn’t adopt Christianity, and at that year’s parliament, they took on the new religion … en masse!

Much of Iceland’s history is full of internal and to an extent, external conflict.  Early settlement’s family stories are told through “sagas” which were written in the 1300 and 1400s (writing had now taken hold) about events 200-300 years earlier.  Families feuded, and conflicts often ended brutally.  But the sagas describe things rather matter-of-factly, so make for some rather surreal reading.  People are identified by their settlement areas (eg. Cameron Jackson of Peterborough arrived at midnight to avenge the earlier slaying of his brother.  But along the path he met Kaia Cameronsdottir who dissuaded him ….)  Yes, my dad’s name was Jack, and Icelanders still identify their children through the father, though even this tradition is facing some challenges among the newest generation of parents in Iceland).

Some other historical highlights include:

  • in 1627, European pirates based in Algiers raided Iceland in search of slaves.  They made off with 400 residents of Westman Islands and sold them into slavery back in Algiers.  Thirty years later a ransom was paid to repatriate most of the slaves.  Mediterranean raid on Iceland … who’d a thought!
  • during the 1700s the Christian church successfully persuaded Icelanders to leave behind the notion of retributive justice and adopt instead the notion of punishment.  Prior to this, justice was very much “an eye for an eye” which resulted in a never ending sequence of family and inter community violence.  Through the church they then passed judgement on the accused.  So now, instead of getting butchered by your wife’s brother’s father, you could be burned at the stake, or if you were a woman, bound, put in a sack and thrown in the rapids at þingvellir.
  • through the ages the country has experienced a continuous steam of volcanoes and earthquakes; these are a defining part if Iceland. This is obvious to the tourist almost every step of the way. More on that later.
  • Icelandic woman fought for and achieved suffrage several years before Canadian women (1915)
  • 1918 became autonomous but still under King of Denmark; after WWII became an independent republic with an elected President
  • after becoming autonomous in 1918, Iceland declared itself officially neutral in international affairs.  During WWII Britain was worried that Germany would occupy, so in 1940 established their presence there and subsequently turned this role over the Americans.   Amidst great domestic controversy (many Icelanders were and still are fiercely independent in nature), Iceland joined NATO in 1949 and a large base was established in Keflavik (50km west of Rejkjavik).  When Rejkjavik outgrew its local airport, it took over the base at Keflavik which now serves as Iceland’s international airport.  So … if you fly to Iceland, be prepared for a 50 minute drive into Rejkjavik!

Betty has already described our journey – 1 week with a camper, out and around the Snæfellsness peninsula then out and back along the south coast.  We could have done the classic circumnavigation route (1400km) but didn’t want to spend all our time driving.

Snaefellsnes peninsula route
We drove around the Snæfellsnes peninsula
south coast of Iceland route
then headed around the “Golden Cirlce” route and east as far as the glacier lake of Jökulsárlón. From there we returned to Reykjavik along the coast via the Westman Islands.

Instead of a diary sort of approach, I’ll instead use the photos to help make some impressions and tell some stories.

Good morning!
Good morning!  I slept up top with the kids, while Yvonne and Betty staked out the lower bunk.  Our bedrooms opened to the big wide world of Iceland.
Typical. Wide open landscapes, with cool or cold wind blowing. This was actually one of the warmer dinner times … with all jackets on.
Virtually all of Iceland is treeless; much of it is covered only in moss and lichen. Ancient volcanic cones like this one dot many horizons.  Note the relatively fresh lava field in the foreground.
Looking across to the Olafsvik (“Olaf’s harbour”) at the foot of the Snæfellsjokull glacier.
A rather inspired ocean’s edge lunch stop.
Kaia, caught between a rock and a hard place.
We saw a surprising number of cycle tourists like this guy. At a certain level, it might seem appealing (things roll by at human speeds …) but we all agreed that there are much better places to cycle tour. Distances are great here, the wind howls, there is virtually no shoulder, and its flipping cold and often rainy. Hard core, man!
When I saw this church I immediately thought of a similar photo I had taken in southern Germany – see below.

atop on old volcanic cone at the tip of Snæfellsness peninsula.
Hike down from the cone
Sheep were everywhere. This guy was spectacular!
We noted that Iceland lambing was about 2 months behind Germany, for obvious climate reasons. These guys were only about a week or two old.
Þjóðgarðurinn Snæfellsjökull. In case you are rusty on the Icelandic language and character set, this is the Snaefellsjokull National Park – in the middle of the summer no less!


The monument to acknowledge half giant Bárðar of Bárðar ‘s saga. To get a flavor of such a saga, have a quick read through the “Coles notes” version on Wikipedia.
The kids and I hiked up to this crack in the cliff where you climb into the crack through the winter’s residual snow and ice. Hundreds of gulls soared in the thermals above.
classic Iceland … almost barren landscapes, views so far …
This (geothermally heated) hot pool was tucked off the main road a few km. The main pool was 32degC. Another small one was 38. I believe this one was 42!
Regular readers have seen us blogging in some rather unusual locations this year. Yvonne and Jake are hard at work here.
This art was on display at the Settlement Center in Bogarnes. Self contained audio interpretation provided a great sense of early settlement, mostly through the recounting of saga highlights.

From the Snæfellsness peninsula we returned through Reykjavik and set out around the “Golden Circle”.  I don’t think many tourists to Iceland have NOT done this famed loop.

Stop #1 on Golden circle. Þingvellir (“Thingvellir”). What a place! This geography teacher is standing on a plate tectonic boundary. That’s the North American plate on my left, and the Eurasian plate on my right – they are pulling apart at about 2cm/year. It is in fact this plate separation that gave birth to Iceland is is responsible for all the volcanic activity.  I show all my geography classes a video that features Dr. Iain Stewart standing in this very place, telling viewers in a VERY Scottish and VERY enthusiastic voice “I want to show you how the planet works!”.
The other thing that makes Þingvellir (“parliament plains”) a special place is that this is where the first Alþingi (“parliament”) met. Once a year, starting in 930 Icelanders from all over the island would trek overland and by boat (no small feat!!) and pass new laws and dispense justice in this outdoor setting.  The lögsögumaður (“lawspeaker”) would stand on top of the cliff (“Law Rock”) and recite the country’s laws. Keep in mind that during the first 200 years, Iceland was an oral society only. Participants would camp in the plains to the right of the cliff. Remarkably, these outdoor parliaments continued for 800 years until it was suspended for 45 years then moved to Reykjavik.
Betty at Golden circle stop #2: Geysir.
The main geysir erupts irregularly, about every 5 minutes give or take 3 minutes. It is quite explosive and shoots up about 15m and showers the area with scalding water.  Not long after we left I read a news story about some young kids getting burned here 😦  Many people try to capture the exact moment the the bubble swells up and erupts. This was my best effort.)
I know I am breaking a few copyright rules here … but thanks to the photographer who took this spectacular postcard photo!
Stop #3 on the Golden Circle: Gullfoss. Recall from Betty’s blog that a “foss” is a falls. This huge falls is where the heathen law speaker of the Alþingi flung his idols of Norse gods after Iceland swung over to Christianity in the year 1000.


The next days proved to be quite “fossy”.S3050009

You can walk right behind the falls … as long as you’re game for a shower.
There was a fantastic trail leading to the precipice. Note the hundreds of gulls that are nesting in the mist on the far side of the falls.


This sight was common. I’m not sure if anyone has every lived in these, or whether they are used as root cellars.
One of many glacier tongues of Vatnajökulsþjóðgarður. C’mon, don’t you recognize that root word from before? It’s a National Park.  This Glacier is the largest one in Europe outside of the Arctic – what you see is a TINY part of the ice mass.
Oh, the wide open spaces …


The basault columns at Svartifoss above really looked like organ pipes. We had hiked up from the popular glacier tour center of Skaftafell. There were all sorts of glacier outings in including ice climbing and full day traverses, but costs were exorbitant. At this point in our trip, we felt like we had experienced lots of high adrenaline adventure (for much less money!) so were quite happy to simply set off on a hike.

Kaia and I set off for another glacier overlook while Jake and Yvonne went back to meet up with Betty on her flatter hike.
Another tongue of the Vatnajokull glacier.


This was one of only two places in the country where we found trees.
Jökulsárlón glacial lagoon.
Jake thought it was a cool place to skip stones.



Betty mentioned the dive bombing terns that drew blood. This family quickly aborted their walk through a tern nesting area.
It was all about these little guys.
This moss covered lava field stretched as far as the eye could see.
The basault columns on the black beach of Reynisdrangar.  Basault columns are (I think) always hexagonal in cross section, for some mineral crystallization reason.

Our final destination in our week journey was the Westman Islands (“Vestmanaeyjar”).  Settlement of this archipelago of small islands got off to a rather notorious start when a group of slaves from Ireland killed their captain/master Hjörleifr (he apparently didn’t treat them terribly well).  They escaped and settled on what is now known as Heimaey island in the group.  Recall that justice in early Iceland was retributive.  Hjörleifr’s brother Ingólfr found the Irish slaves and slaughtered them all.  From that point on (875 AD) the islands have been known as Westman Islands, because the Irish were referred to as Westmen by the Norwegians to their East.

Settlers of the Westman Islands had a tough life, living on fish and puffin eggs which they collected from the cliffs.  Puffin numbers are now in sharp decline so egg collection has all but stopped, but most of the uninhabited Westman islands have a single cabin  that was used by the puffin egg collectors.  I snapped the photo below as we approached Heimaey Island after the 45 minute ferry ride from the mainland.

Puffin egg hunter’s cabin
Our “campsite” that we randomly drove to at 11PM after arriving on the island. Little did we realize at the time that we were parked on 42yr volcanic ash from the volcanic cone “Eldfell” about 800m away!  Fitting that our camper is named “lava”.

The Westman Islands are notorious for another reason: their recent volcanic activity.  Surtsey island rose out of the ocean in 1963, and in 1973 Heimaey Island hit the world media map when an enormous eruption started.  There were 5000 inhabitants of the island at the time, and most were evacuated.  A few remained to “fight” the lava flow using a previously untested technique of pumping cold ocean water onto the advancing face of the flow.  The eruption lasted 6 months and literally consumed about 20% of the town, but the water pumpers were able to slow the advance and were able to protect the harbour from becoming completely closed off. The eruptions added 2.5 km² of new land to the small island, including our campsite.

This brand new museum tells the story of the town’s struggle with the 1973 eruption. The building is constructed over an excavated house that was buried by the eruption. The curators have done a fabulous job using multimedia to convey the urgency, despair and ultimate perseverance of the townsfolk during the struggle.
Ouch!  400+ other homes met this fate or worse.
The furthest point of advance of the 1973 lava flow.
The four of us climbed the 200m high cone Eldfell (“fire mountain”).  Look closely and you can see Kaia and Jake near the top. Betty started up but it was so windy she literally got blown off the trail and retreated to the van.
On top of the Eldfell cone. You can see clearly how the lava flowed into the town. It was REALLY windy up here!
While admiring the view from the top of the cone, Jake picked up this rock and noted that it was “hot”. We said “couldn’t be … must have been in the sun”. But when he went to put it down he realized that the smooth rock it was on was also warm.
We quickly then realized that we had found a “vent”, and the little cave inside was too hot to leave your hand for more than about 1 second. We were astounded, and I actually wondered for a few moments if the cone was becoming active again! Nobody we’d spoken to about the cone had said anything about this vent, though we learned later that it is a well known place to roast hot dogs. Apparently Bill Clinton was served one of these hotdogs when he visted a few years back.
I believe this is Surtsey – the island that erupted out of the ocean in 1963.

We were a bit overdue for a shower, and this becomes an issue with 5 people living in a small camper.  So we headed off to the swimming pool in Heimaey and discovered to our delight a fantastic outdoor play area.

3 pools; hot, hotter, hottest. The large swimming pool is behind me, inside.
On the right you’d shoot out then bounce your way down the black trampoline slide. All in geothermally heated hot water!
S3070010 (2)
climbing wall, another slide, basketball court … they know how to do it up, these Icelanders!
I set off with Kaia and Jake to climb the peak adjacent to the harbour. We were told it had some ropes and ladders so were excited … but Betty figured this one would be a good one to sit out!
We shared the peak with sheep, puffins and clouds. It was otherwise a pretty fantastic view back into town and out to the other islands.
The five of us went Puffin spotting along the coast, but found the sheep much easier to see.
Jake is in the spotting “hide”, and indeed there were a bunch of puffins swimming in the ocean below us.

The Westman Islands had proved to be well worth the “detour”, and our family never minds a ride on the ferry.  The island really speaks to the remoteness, resourcefulness and courage of the early and more recent Icelandic setters.

Our final day back to Reykjavik involved further exploration of Iceland’s volcanic reality.  Most people know that homes in Reykjavik are heated with geothermally warmed water, but I was surprised to learn that a whopping 96% of buildings across the entire country are heated this way!  26% of the country’s electricity comes from geothermal power stations, and I wanted to see what such a thing looks like, so we stopped at the Hellisheiði power station – one of 5 in the country.

High pressure steam is collected from many smaller wells then piped to the power station. (photo from the net)
We wondered why all the steam pipes ran zig zag like this instead of straight or bending lines. See if you can figure it out – I’ll tell you in a moment.

Iceland power recently built quite a spectacular visitor center at the power station and we quickly found ourselves on a guided tour.

The steam is fed through 4 generators like this to make electricity. The “waste” steam is then converted back to hot water and piped 30km to heat buildings and domestic hot water.  As the hot water returns to the power plant it runs under Reykjavik’s roads and sidewalks so that plows are not needed in the winter.  I thought this was an urban myth, but apparently not!  The cooled water is then pumped back down into the ground near the wells where the steam is drawn from to complete the cycle.
A week is a long time to spend in a small van with a mother in law who is full of hot air.

Geothermal power appears quite environmentally benign but there are increasing concerns about the impact of steam extraction on geologic stability – much the same as concern over small earthquakes around area of intense oil/gas fracking.  Speaking of concerns in Iceland about electricity consumption, I learned of quite an interesting controversy that unfolded earlier last decade.  26% of electrical power in Iceland is geothermal – the rest is hydro power, so 100% of electricity is renewable, and there are many more untapped rivers in the country.  The government decided about 10 yrs ago to diversify the economy by attracting large foreign investment aluminum smelters with cheap electricity.  Bauxite ore would be brought from half way around the world to Iceland, processed on the coast, then shipped as aluminum to market.  The new hydro project and associated smelter  was sited in a very economically depressed (“desperate”, according to the government) area and was to help bring Iceland into “the modern age”.  It became a flash point for contrasting notions of development and huge protests greeted every step of the project.  Environmentalists believed that the hydro power should be exploited on smaller scales and used to power locally-grown industry like the electrically-lit and geothermally-heated greenhouses that are supplying an increasing percentage of the county’s vegetables.  Icelanders pride in their wilderness and self sufficiency. Ultimately though, 5 massive dams were constructed (“Kárahnjúkar”), 70km of penstocks were drilled out by the Italians, a huge powerhouse was built by the Germans and the American Alcoa Aluminum company completed their smelter in 2008.

photo is from the net

A second similar dam/smelter has just come online further north in the country, though the controversy and conflict persist.

By the way, the reason they zig zag steam pipes is because the heating and contracting of the pipes causes expansion and compression, and the zig zag takes up the associated stress.  Pretty elaborate solution though, huh?

We left Hellisheiði power station where I had a smile on my face and headed down the road where we soon stumbled into warm fuzzy Icelandic wool shop that brought a smile to the knitter Yvonne’s face.

We didn’t spend time in Reykjavik when we arrived so did leave the later part of an afternoon and evening to explore a bit.

The “Whales of Iceland” museum featured life size recreations of a couple dozen species of whales around Iceland. This is a sperm whale, but the great blue whale left an even greater impression on us!

We had some time in the early evening to explore the many walking streets of Reykjavik.

The striking Hallgrimskirkja in central Reykjavik. The church is named after the renowned Icelandic poet Hallgrimur Petursson, and you can climb to an observation deck near the top.

I took some time to browse through a great little music store.  I’d come to appreciate that Iceland has a  vibrant music scene, and is rather over represented by new young talent internationally.  I’m now enjoying my 2014 indie sampler.  Have a look and listen to the popular folk band Árstíðir here.

Trolls (or “little people” as they’re sometimes referred to) play a special role in Icelandic folklore. Apparently, many folks still believe in them, and few will openly admit they flat out don’t believe they’re real.
Even Reykjavik shared the cycling passion we saw in our other European cities.
Betty treated us to our final dinner of the journey in this downtown restaurant. We’d spent the previous 7 days driving past sheep and new lambs, and they are virtually the only livestock on the island. So Betty, Yvonne and I had lamb … REALLY good lamb. Kids ate fish. As Betty mentioned in her blog, we took time to reflect back on the year to recall our favorite places, experiences, people, meals, and started to try to figure out what we’d learned and how we’d changed. We’ll share those thoughts next entry.

We enjoyed the strong sun above the horizon when we left the restaurant at 11PM and found our way to the trail head of our midnight hike.  Betty bid us farewell as we set off to celebrate the longest night of the year with a midnight hike.  At 64° N latitude (just shy of the arctic circle), the sun set at about 1AM and rose again at 4AM, but it stayed light the entire night.

It was a quiet, contemplative hike/climb. Partly because we were coming to terms with the end of our journey, and partly because it was about 1AM and we were tired!
You might recognize this one from an earlier post. We’re near the top of Mt Esja just outside of Reykjavik.  Its about 1:30 AM.

It felt fitting to end our journey with a hike.  It is something we all enjoy doing, and we’d hiked in every country we visited this year, save a couple.  Hiking was also the activity that gave us time “apart” … if you consider 10 or 20 steps “apart”.  On a journey of 10 months where we were mostly within a few feet of each other 24 hrs a day, a few meters of separation for quiet contemplation was often welcome.

We grabbed 3 or 4 hrs sleep then headed back to Reykjavik to a swimming/bathing pool.  The low but strong morning sun felt great as we lounged in the many different hot pools and the one VERY cold pool.  A good soak seemed like a fitting way to prepare ourselves for the long journey home.

We said our goodbyes and thankyous to Stein, Bàra and their two children Làra and Dagur. They had provided us with travel suggestions and food but especially with some explanations about how the less visible aspects of their country work.

We’d really enjoyed Iceland.  It was so different than anything else we’d seen or done this year.  The people were gregarious in the best sense of the world.  I would love to see more, but I have to say I found Iceland prohibitively expensive.  A week was all we could afford, and with the exception of the camper costs, we were doing everything low budget.  It is so expensive, in fact, that Stein travels once a year to the USA to shop.  He buys electronics, clothes, toys and other stuff for the family, and the savings compared to Iceland purchase easily pay for the round trip.  Iceland is of course rather remote, but that alone does not explain the exceptionally high cost of living.  Maybe a reader can fill me in by leaving a comment.

Last fight .. of many this year. Jake was looking forward to the individual media screens that Iceland Air has on the planes.
Our most conscientious blogger, hard at work after only a few hours sleep, and hours away from Canadian soil, friends and family.  Her brother is enjoying his own TV screen, watching the secret life of Walter Mitty which was filmed in part in the wilds of Iceland.

The smiling faces of Canadian Immigration and Customs officers were so welcome at Pearson airport, but our taxi driver to my mom’s house in Etobicoke was over the top grumpy when we crammed the four of us and our luggage (which now included a bicycle trailer) into his car.  “Why didn’t you hire a van?”  We bid Betty farewell at the entrance to the brand new rail link that connects the 3 Pearson terminals to each other and to downtown (built for the PanAm games) and felt sorry for her need for one more ongoing flight to Ottawa -we were exhausted.

Yes, it felt great to be back in Canada, and to see mom again and sleep in familiar beds.

But I have no idea how to end this blog entry.  How do you close this year? Yes, we are home, but the journey lives on in our minds, chatter, emails and activities each day.  Thanks to our readers for staying with us this far.  And talk to you next week.


Mormor’s Camping in Iceland

This entry is written by a guest blogger; Yvonne’s mother, Betty.

The family suggested that mormor meet them on Aunt Marianne and Onkel Børge’s farm “Gyldenlund”, in Denmark.  Douglases and Betty Leicht flew together to Reykjavik from Copenhagen.  They picked up a camping van that could sleep 6 and successfully slept 5.  It was a test for mormor, but Jake and Kaia found it a luxury not to pitch the tent nightly.  Good protection from wind and cold.  Duvets were provided.

Betty writes:  I met an Icelander in Maryland, USA, in March, Steinn Steinsson.  He provided good advice to our questions and he could keep some of our baggage (i.e. tent, bicycle trailer, and camping equipment) while we drove around in the camper with a minimum.  And he lent us a folding table and a couple of chairs.  When we left “stuff” at his house, and a week later picked it up, they had baked bread for us and fed us Icelandic–one example is dried “hard fish” eaten like potato chips with butter.  Thank you, Steinn and family.

Cam did all the driving.  He and Yvonne took turns making meals with food purchased in grocery stores.  With some imported food, much in Iceland is local—dairy products, vegetables grown in geothermal greenhouses, meat, fish, bakery goods.  We had most meals in the camper, but ate outside when possible.

Cam on kitchen duty.
Cam on kitchen duty.
Too cold to eat outside, but a cosy meal.
Too cold to eat outside, but a cosy meal.
Gathering energy for a full day.
Gathering energy for a full day.

White Nights kept us up late and we slept until 8:30 or 9 am.  The beds were comfortable.  I fell asleep quickly every night.  I am an ‘up once in the night’ lady.  I practiced holding my bladder and became good at it.  I would wait until another person stirred because I needed help getting out and in and sliding the door closed (needed to be slammed).  Climbing into the van and also out was a strain on my right knee and the rest of me!

I had heard that Iceland took a major decision a few years ago to import Alaskan Lupine.  It adapts well to the climate and soil.  We did occasionally see wild countryside with steep slopes of the tall blue flowers.

Lupine blooms for a long season.
Lupine blooms for a long season. This is our first campsite — the only time we paid to stay at an official camping ground.
You can see lupine is spreading up these steep, barren slopes.

I also photographed the intriguing and charming local flowers.  In the pictures they look big, but most flowers are smaller than your little fingernail.  They rush to bloom in the cold, bright days of spring.

Tiny wild flower
Tiny wildflower called “Lambagras” or Moss Campion.
small succulent
Small succulent “Burnirot” (Roseroot)

The birds are nesting.  First thing in the morning and late in the evening, we were charmed by the varied bird chorus.   Because there are few ground predators, a tern nests on the ground.  We saw many as we parked near a glacier lake with icebergs.  Tourist busses drove a circle around the nesting meadow.   The birds were used to the traffic, but not the curious tourists who wanted many and closer pictures.  The protective male swooped and warned the humans to pull back.  We saw a tern draw blood on an onlookers head.

Busy terns guarding their territory
Busy terns guarding their territory

We drove through dramatic, spectacular countryside.  We saw black beaches, ocean views, and sheep with lambs on uneven terrain.  We could spot the mother ewe and her lamb (one or two).  The sheep spread out in the large fenced areas.  Tiny lambs followed the mothers.  But my surprising observation was that lambs did not nestle close to Mom.  They lay down facing her and she settled some metres away.  I wished them warmth, but instead independence was an early lesson.  Horses had foaled.  All are “Icelandic Horses”;  varied colouring, sturdy stature, elegant long manes and tails.  No other horse is allowed in the country and if a horse is taken out for international competition or to be sold or bred, it cannot ever return to Iceland.

Icelandic horses at home in their rugged terrain.
Icelandic horses at home in their rugged terrain.

We explored phenomena of Iceland.  The camper gave us freedom and possibilities.  We were frequently calling out “foss” whenever we saw a waterfall.  Gullfoss is the greatest and part of the Golden Circle which includes the original geyser and the earliest parliament “Thingvellir” the place for annual meetings and rule-making gatherings through the centuries.  Another blogger will tell of the tectonic plates at that place.

I did a double-take when I saw this big-eyed troll coming out of the ground!
I did a double-take when I saw this big-eyed troll coming out of the ground!

Steam seen often was evidence of geothermal vents and action.  The plant, making electricity from natural hot water steam, is where I got my best picture of our van called Lava.

Iceland 340
This photo, taken at the plant that produces geothermal electricity, is the best one of our camper called “Lava”.

A unique institution in Iceland is their geothermal warm swimming pools.  The temperatures are kept the same summer and winter.  Even small towns have pools.  Pools and hot tubs are marked with the Celsius degrees of the water.  Every Icelander knows how to bathe before swimming, and the rules are clearly explained.  We campers appreciated the two to three hours we cleaned up, soaked and played–four different times.   The slides and tunnels added fun.  The most imaginative was a long slide with tunnel that dropped the person onto a trampoline slide and then into the water.

We took a ferry to the Westman Island of Heimaey.  Bringing the camper meant we had our lodging, kitchen, and dining room.  We drove from the port through town and up, up.  It was very windy and cold.  It was also late.  We learned the next day about the volcanic eruption of Eldfell in 1973.   We actually had slept on the lava flow (no vegetation) near the source of the eruption.  The Volcano Museum told us much and showed a house that had been excavated for the museum.  The island’s population had been successfully evacuated to the mainland as the eruption continued many months.

Our last night June 20 was Kaia, Jake, Cam, and Yvonne’s chance to celebrate the Summer solstice by walking up a mountain in never-ending twilight .   They were “home” again at 2 in the morning and slept–starting our longest day which would end in Canada.


Great fun at Gyldenlund

For the vast majority of the trip, we were in places we’d never been.  Only Costa Rica, Australia, New Zealand, Bali and Switzerland had some of us been to before.  So it was great to finish our cycle tour at Gyldenlund, my mom’s aunt Marianne and uncle Boerge’s farm in northern Sealand, Denmark.  My mom has been there at least 20 times (her father was Marianne’s brother), and it was Kaia’s and my fifth time there.  It’s a beautiful farm, with lots of animals and vegetable gardens, and borders one of Denmark’s biggest forests, and with a train station really close by (1 hr to Copenhagen).

SaltrupWhen we arrived on our bikes, we met Marianne and Boerge, and my Mormor (Danish way to say “mother’s mother”), who we hadn’t seen since we left in September.  We spent a week on the farm, and had lots of fun.  I’ll keep this blog post short, so here are photos of some of the highlights.

This is the vegetable garden, with the little yellow commuter train going by.
The farmhouse.
The greenhouses.  The big one was built by uncle Boerge using recovered glass.
We ate very well at Gyldenlund, and had a lot of Danish-style open face sandwiches!
This is Bruno, their nice 4 year-old chocolate lab.
This is Lillemand (“Littleguy”), one of 12 or so of Marianne’s sheep. Born last spring, he was the runt of a group of triplets. Ewes can only look after 2 lambs, so his mother rejected him, and he must be fed 4 bottles of milk a day.
Marianne also has 4 Icelandic horses. This one is Gilvi, a young gelding.
And there’s the birds. There are about 20 ducks, 15 chickens and one goose.
We went into the forest for a barbecue lunch on a lake.
And Marianne let me and Kaia ride one of her horses there and back!
The Gribskov, the forest that borders the farm, is a beautiful place to go for a stroll.
Boerge, who is an expert at inventing and building cool things, made this piano that you play using your feet!
He also made this “earthquake machine” to keep small rodents in the ground from eating the potatoes!  It makes a tremor once every hour.
Many Danish farms have their names carved into rocks at the entrance. Here we are at the entrance to Marianne and Boerge’s “Gyldenlund”.
We had tractor obstacle course race. As you can see here, Kaia wrecked a few barrels.
Saying goodbye to Marianne and Boerge at the train station.  Mormor was coming to Iceland with us.
On the little yellow train … bound for Copenhagen then onto Iceland..

Being at Gyldenlund was really fun, and was a great change of pace from finding our way in new, unknown places, what we’d been doing for the past 9 and a half months.  It was great to see Marianne and Boerge again, and Bruno all grown up (he was a puppy the last time we visited), and to see my favourite country in Europe, Denmark.


Two wheels good

We plan do a public presentation in Peterborough in mid to late September.  If you are not already signed up to automatically receive new blog entries and you would like to know the date and time of the presentation, then click on the dark green FOLLOW rectangle at the bottom left corner of the green panel on the left side.  You will be sent the info via blog entry in September.


Thirty-eight days and 1700+km of cycle touring in Germany, Switzerland, Holland,  and Denmark left us a little bit fitter and a lot more fired up about the possibilities of creative urban planning. We were impressed and inspired by the ubiquitous and well-planned bicycle infrastructure. I’ve been to Copenhagen many times and know that it has a unique and thriving bicycle culture, but this time, seeing it from the saddle of a bicycle was really eye-opening. Sometimes it was a little overwhelming to be on a downtown cycle path with so many other cyclists – I felt like a new driver who needs to be super vigilant about the surrounding traffic. Since there are often 2 lanes in each direction on the bike paths and many users, one has to be aware of oncoming cyclists, when and where to pass, making sure to follow traffic signals, and maintaining the flow of traffic (don’t just stop to look at a map or road sign because someone may rear-end you!) That said, our overall impression of cycling in all of these countries was that we felt SAFE. Why? Because the infrastructure was in place, often in the form of bicycle paths that are physically separated from the driving lanes and clearly paved in a different colour. When we needed to share the road, drivers were very considerate, leaving us ample room when passing. Probably because they are cyclists themselves and know how it feels to be the more vulnerable road user.

Here are Kaia and Cam in southern Germany, feeling safe as they cycle on a path separated by a grass buffer from the highway.
Here are Kaia and Cam in southern Germany, feeling safe as they cycle on a path separated by a grass buffer from the highway.
Rural cycle routes in Holland are well signed with maps at many intersections.
Rural cycle routes in Holland are well signed with maps at many intersections.


All over Holland, bike lanes are paved with red tar to make them obvious. In this particular place, the lane was separated from traffic by bike and car parking spaces.
All over Holland, bike lanes are paved with red tar to make them obvious. In this particular place, the lane was separated from traffic by bike and car parking spaces.


The red lanes extend through intersections, making it clear to motorists where bicycles will be.
The red lanes extend through intersections, making it clear to motorists where bicycles will be.


We even saw a bike lane paving crew and saw how the red colour is mixed right into the pavement – no chance of surface paint wearing off!
We even saw a bike lane paving crew and noticed how the red colour is mixed right into the pavement – no chance of surface paint wearing off!


Separate traffic lights for bicycles will often count down, showing how much longer until a green light.
Separate traffic lights for bicycles will often count down, showing how much longer until a green light.


Most trains have cars designated for bicycles. Here we are travelling comfortably from X to Y.
Most trains have cars designated for bicycles. Here we are travelling comfortably from Opheusden to Utrecht.


The transportation plan in Freiburg includes a car-share program, whereby members can book a suitable vehicle for the days or hours they need it.  They calculate that it is a cheaper option for people who drive fewer than 10 000 km per year.
The transportation plan in Freiburg includes a car-share program, whereby members can book a suitable vehicle for the days or hours they need it. They calculate that it is a cheaper option for people who drive fewer than 10 000 km per year.


Freiburg has some car-reduced neighbourhoods like this one, Vauban.  Most streets are parking-free which means that cars can only stop for loading and unloading.  Neighbourhood garages are in 3 locations and provide enough space for all the residents cars.
Freiburg has some car-reduced neighbourhoods like this one, Vauban. Most streets are parking-free which means that cars can only stop for loading and unloading. Neighbourhood garages are in 3 locations and provide enough space for all the residents cars. Those who do not own a car must pay for a “virtual parking space” which is now a green space but could be turned into more parking if the need arises.

With so much emphasis on bicycles, there is of course a need for good and convenient bike parking facilities.


Outdoor covered bicycle parking
Outdoor covered bicycle parking


This one, at a school in Vauban, even has a green roof!
This one, at a school in Vauban, even has a green roof!
Our guide in Freiburg is showing us the indoor, secure bike parking at the central train station.
Our guide in Freiburg showed us the indoor, secure bike parking at the central station.


At train stations, work places and educational institutions, there are lots of bikes.
Everywhere we went — train stations, work places and educational institutions — there were lots of bikes!


Even McDonald’s has a substantial bike rack (and it’s being used!)  No, we did not eat there. We were trying to poach some wifi.
Even McDonald’s has a substantial bike rack (and it’s being used!) No, we did not eat there. We were trying to poach some wifi.


In Amsterdam, there is such a need for bike parking spaces that they turned these two barges into floating parking lots!
In Amsterdam, there is such a need for bike parking spaces that they turned these two barges into floating parking lots!

Many families in both Denmark and Holland own “cargo bikes” (50,000 in Copenhagen alone!) and about a quarter report that it is a direct replacement for a car. We saw many children being transported in the cargo area as well as dogs, groceries, and boyfriends!

The cargo bikes in this photo are uncharacteristically empty! But you can see how different modes of transportation share the road.


Cargo bikes require special consideration in terms of parking (they are often seen parked outside grocery stores).
Cargo bikes require special consideration in terms of parking (they are often seen parked outside grocery stores). Cam asked why they do not use bike trailers (like ours) instead of the heavier cargo bike, and it was explained that they liked to be able to talk with their passenger as they ride, be it kid, pet or husband.


OK, this Dutch cargo bike was just too cute!
OK, this Dutch cargo bike was just too cute!


We got to test drive the latest model of cargo bike by "Bullitt"
Cam and Kaia test driving the latest model of cargo bike by “Bullitt”

Cam made sure we visited the planning departments in Groningen and Copenhagen to learn about their cycling strategies. Let’s just say they are light years ahead of anyone else in our part of the world.

Groningen is a city of about 225 000 in the north of Holland. It has a little more than twice the population of our city, Peterborough, but is similar in that both are university towns with vibrant art scenes. Groningen has a younger population than Peterborough and a long, strong history of cycling. A full 60% of journeys there are done by bicycle! (In our hometown, it’s only about 4%). This makes Goningen the unnoficial cycling capital of the world in terms of highest modal share of trips on cycle.  The literature we picked up at the planning department revealed that the reasons for promoting cycling have little to do with the environment and mostly to do with health, quality of life, and the economy. Their stated goals are to:

  • Create good conditions for the growth of the city
  • Keep the city accessible (not clogged with traffic)
  • Improve the health of inhabitants
  • Ensure a viable and economically vital city
  • Ensure a safe city

Of course, reducing air pollution and greenhouse gas emissions through the use of bicycles and public transportation contribute to improved health of the citizens (and the planet). Nowhere does anyone suggest eliminating cars from the mix, just increasing the modal share of cycling, walking, public transportation, and carpooling. In that way, people who need to drive can continue to do so without requiring major new road constructions (because many people will choose the cheaper, healthier, more sustainable, and, in Groningen, more convenient options).

This student intern in the Copenhagen planning department was happy to share with us the maps and literature about the ambitious bicycle strategy that they believe will make them the world’s best bicycle city (and carbon neutral!) by 2025. The priorities are: sense of security, speed, comfort, and city life.
This student intern in the Copenhagen planning department was happy to share with us the maps and literature about the ambitious bicycle strategy that they believe will make them the world’s best bicycle city (and carbon neutral!) by 2025. The priorities are: sense of security, speed, comfort, and city life.

The following photos were taken in central Copenhagen at 4:30pm on a weekday.  How many cars can you count?


In the Copenhagen cycling strategy, they share the results of a socio-economic analysis of different forms of transportation.  I don’t know exactly how they calculated this, but they say that riding a bicycle downtown during rush hour results in a net profit for society of 0.49 Euro, whereas taking a car results in a net loss of 0.89 Euro.   I assume it is based on the reduced wear and tear on the roads by bikes, reduced congestion,  as well as the significant health benefits of active transportation.  Conversely, obesity and its associated societal costs are notably higher among those who drive a car.  Based on that, what city or municipality can afford NOT to promote cycling?

Every new development in these cities we visited (Amsterdam, Utrecht, Groningen and Copenhagen) takes into consideration the needs of citizens to get around quickly, safely, and comfortably. Transit and cycling infrastructure are key.  There were some really amazing details in their planning that blew us away:

  • Groningen has traffic signals that can detect rain. If it is raining, they give priority to cyclists by giving more/longer green lights to bicycles.
  • They are also planning to build heated bicycle paths, using the heat from wastewater sewers. This will help keep bike lanes free from snow and ice.
  • Freiburg, Germany, has “bicycle streets” where bikes have priority. Cars still drive and park on these streets, but the speed limit is 30 km/h.
  • Recognizing that cycling is a very social activity and that many people prefer to cycle side by side, the goal in Copenhagen is to make all bike paths wide enough to accommodate 3 bicycle lanes in each direction!
  • One of their maintenance goals is to have bike lanes smooth enough that one can ride along with a cup of coffee on the handlebars, and not spill!
  • Copenhagen is planning to embed LED lights in the asphalt to indicate which forms of transportation have access to the lanes. The lights can change to accommodate the differing flow of traffic. For example, there can be more lanes of traffic and wider bike lanes going into town in the morning, but fewer in the afternoon, when the space is needed for traffic going in the other direction.

The level of cooperation and creative problem solving is phenomenal.   All I can say is, “Wow!”

We are feeling motivated now to help BE THE CHANGE in Peterborough.  Last weekend, there was an event called “Peterborough Pulse” and on Saturday morning from 9 until 1, they closed a 3km portion of our downtown streets to car traffic.  Imagine that!  For four hours, people strolled and biked along the car-less streets, and many community organisations set up booths with information or activities.  Kaia volunteered to set one up to share photos and information from our trip and ask participants what they would like to see in Peterborough with respect to active transportation.  Our whole family got involved!  Kaia (and I) baked about 200 bicycle-shaped cookies which were given out in exchange for the ideas.  We had icing and candies so kids could decorate them.  Cam chose some of our best photos of cycling infrastructure, printed them, and made a binder.  Jake was there on the day to help set up, elicit responses, and help kids decorate cookies.  It was a great event and, we hope, a first step towards a more pedestrian and cycle friendly downtown.

Here is our booth.  It was called "Sweet Ideas -- a cookie for your thoughts"
Here is our booth. It was called “Sweet Ideas — a cookie for your thoughts”
People wrote their ideas on coloured paper which we put together like a quilt.
People wrote their ideas on coloured paper which we put together like a quilt.
The kids enjoyed decorating and eating the bicycle cookies.
The kids enjoyed decorating and eating the bicycle cookies.
Here is a prize-winner!  Decorated by Francesca, who was also helping out at the booth.
Here is a prize-winner! Decorated by Francesca, who was also helping out at the booth.
The quilt is now finished and will be presented to our city council.  Many respondents expressed the desire for more bike paths separated from traffic.  Many also suggested working towards a carless downtown core.
The quilt is now finished and will be presented to our city council. Many respondents expressed the desire for more bike paths separated from traffic. Many also suggested working towards a carless downtown core.

Recall that back in September, one of our first stops was Portland, Oregon, a city that has become the most bicycle-friendly one in North America.  Cam wrote a blog about our 2-wheeled experiences there called Pedaling in Portland.  We certainly have many lessons to learn from them — not least of all, PATIENCE.

In her book about the process, former Portland Bicycle Program Coordinator, Mia Birk wrote,  “Behavioural change takes time. It has taken close to a generation to teach people to place their bottles, cans, paper and plastic in recycling bins. It will take a generation or more to integrate bicycling and walking into daily life, but only if we get rolling.” (Joyride, p.144)

So… here’s to getting rolling!

Kaia will be rolling on her newly painted and decorated bike.  She was inspired by some we saw in Holland and decided to paint, add a front basket, and decorate hers with plastic flowers.
Kaia will be rolling on her newly painted and decorated bike. She was inspired by some we saw in Holland and decided to paint, add a front basket, and decorate hers with plastic flowers.






Blown away by the wind power of northern Germany

If you follow our blog at all regularly, you will realise that we haven’t made it home yet in our blog, and there has been a long lull in our writing. We indeed are settled, or I should say settling back into our home. We’ve been too busy unpacking, planting the vegetable garden and visiting with family and friends to write. But we are looking forward to writing about our final few weeks in Europe/Iceland. Cam.

Wind power.  Love it, or hate it.  Controversy abounding about this energy source seems to have polarised people’s views.  Here in Ontario, most of us talk about wind power in the abstract sense – few of us live within sight of wind farms.  But there were very few places during our cycle through northern Germany where you couldn’t see a wind turbine.  In fact, for much of our cycling in this region, we could see vast wind farms – with so many turbines that I had to stop my bike to be able to count.  I got up past 40 once before I gave up.  And I, for one, like to count wind turbines (just ask my kids).


If you have no interest in renewable energy and just want to know where we cycled and what we did, you can skip down to just above the map below.  Otherwise, read on about the world leader in renewable energy …

Germany in general and northern Germany in particular (that’s where the wind blows best) has seen a HUGE growth in wind power over the past 15 years.  It is in part due to the dominant political climate in this part of the world that looks towards renewable energy for energy self sufficiency, and that actually cares enough about climate change to do something substantial and ambitious to reduce emissions.  But the German story is something much more than this and it deserves a bit of attention.  I had intended to write a fairly substantial piece on the German renewable energy story, but in light of the fact that my last entry (green Freiburg) was rather long and thick in content, I will stay short here in hopes that one or two readers will still peruse my entries :).
Germans have always been uneasy about nuclear energy, though they leaned heavily on it in the late 1900s.  They also relied heavily on coal – some domestic and much imported.  Oil and natural gas were imported.  Hydro is all but non existent.  And of course, Germany’s well known manufacturing base is hungry for electricity.  A visionary in the late 1990s by the name of Herman Shear (passed away just a couple years ago) started agitating for a renewable future for Germany and by the early 2000s (he was then an MP) his plan was really taking hold.  The cornerstone of his “Energiewende” (energy turnaround) plan is the Feed In Tariff (FIT).  Under the FIT, independent renewable power producers were guaranteed access to Germany’s electricity grid, and were given 20 year fixed price production contracts.  Their price per kWhr of generation depended on the technology.  Roof-top solar PV got the most, ground-mounted solar next, industrial scale solar next, wind and biomass next most.  The prices were set to provide significant incentives for producers to invest, and recognised the different build costs of the technologies.  The prices also reflected the reality that solar produces when it is needed the most (mid day) and the idea that roof tops were otherwise useless areas (whereas fields and yards can and should be used for other things).  In all cases, purchase prices were more than what the Germany utilities were selling for – so it was subsidised as green energy, and as a significant job creator.  Importantly, the purchase prices dropped over the year to reflect dropping production and installation costs.
Germany had very ambitious targets for wind and solar PV.  And in every case, they blew their targets out of the water.  They would reach the 5 year goal in the 1st year, for example.   They would surpass the entire EU target all by themselves.  Superlatives abound.  Money poured into solar and wind manufacturing, and new green collar job creation boomed.  Germany had, in only a half decade, established itself as the world leader in renewable energy policy, technology and manufacturing.  They are now surpassed only by the USA and China in terms of new production coming on, but these two economies are of course much larger than Germany’s.  And almost all of this growth owes to the FIT.
Dalton McGuinty’s liberal government in Ontario took note of Germany’s success and in 2008 created a Green Energy Act that was modelled very closely on the German approach.  We too call our incentive the FIT.  In fact, Ontario Environment and Energy officials toured Germany and met with Herman Shear in their research.  So if any Ontario readers wonder where all the roof top solar PV and the steady growth in wind power comes from …. thank (or scold, if that’s where your politics are) Herman Shear and his progressive colleagues.  Yvonne and I installed 15kW of solar PV on our two roofs 5 years ago.  We produce much more than we use on an average day.  On a sunny summer day, the two roofs produce 90kWhrs, while our (one) house uses 5kWhrs.  Our investment will pay itself off in a year or two from now.  The rooftop solar PV (micro)FIT started at 82 cents/kWhr (we got in then).  I believe it is now down in the 35 cent range.  This drop recognises the substantial drop in equipment cost and installation efficiency – which is another sign of success.
Anyone who reads the word “subsidised energy” might rightly worry about rising electricity costs.  Germans were worried.  In the end though, the cost of electricity in Germany related to the FIT program rose by only about $50/yr for an average household.  This was the cost of vast improvement in energy security, weaning off nuclear power, and tens of thousands of new high paying jobs.  It is worth noting that after the Fukushima nuclear disaster in Japan, Germany decided to close out all nuclear power – even if the plant had service life left.  This has ironically resulted in a return to domestic coal power (and increase in CO2) while the country awaits further roll out of solar, wind and biomass power.
We met many Germans during our travels this year.  I would ask them what they made of their renewable energy leadership.  Surprisingly (to me, anyway), most did not know they were leaders.  And also surprisingly, most that did know just laughed, and told the story of the huge offshore wind farm in the north sea that ran out of money before the electrical cable that connected the turbines to the shore (grid) could be installed.  They were hugely cynical.  I asked some Germans in Germany about this and they acknowledged that they are cynics by nature and are their own worst critics.  There is some push back against the FIT in Germany for sure, but the basic approach steams ahead.
OK, I’m done on the FIT.  And YES, this is my short story!  🙂  Those with an interest in the German story should read Chris Turner’s “The Leap”.
Jake’s Holland blog leaves us hunkering down during a huge wind and rain storm in a fabulous little greenhouse that we found in a little campground on the east coast of Holland. 


We made our way to the town’s harbour to take the ferry across the Eems inlet the next morning and discovered a large group of people waiting to board some zodiacs.  Their leader was wearing a t-shirt with “Hansa Green Tour” written on the back. 


This of course caught my interest!  I learned that these energy professionals were touring solar, wind and biogas sites across Germany and Denmark and were meeting with local officials to study policy approaches.  I then found the trip description on their website and laughed when I noted that the tour gave a prize to the participant with the lowest transportation carbon footprint.  Charging stations for electrical vehicles had been mapped out across the route, and a tow truck was following the tour in the event that a participant ran out of charge.  A significant portion of the participants were apparently driving Teslas, and the rest “just” regular lower end electrical vehicles!  Welcome to northern Europe!!  The tour was in town (Delfzijl) to see Holland’s latest huge wind farm that was built on the shore of the inlet.

Hansa Green Tour participants are in the little zodiacs, dwarfed by the new turbines. I have to admit that I was a bit envious of the tour participants, but the tour price appeared to be inversely proportional to their carbon footprint (that is unaffordable to me!)
Most of the new turbines had yet to begin production. This one appears to be in final testing stages.

The journey across the Eems inlet that separates northern Friesland (Holland) from Northwest Germany took only about 30 minutes.

Yes, we've arrived in Northern Germany!
We noted that the large German wind manufacturer Enercon's nacelles (the part on top of the post that holds the hub and blades) was a much different (cone) shape than the rectangular nacelles of the Danish giant Vestas. I bet your world stood still when you learned that.
Volkswagen has situated one of their large manufacturing facilities at Emden where we landed. Germany has to make the most of its few sea ports.
These shrink wrapped VWs were about to be driven on to the car carrier here. I'm guessing that the wind turbines were owned by VW.
We had only ridden about 1km from our ferry dock when we came across all these wind turbine ("spare"?) parts lying around the port.
Cycling past the town's tall ship in Emden.

Emden turned out to be a fabulous little city.  The inner port was dotted with maritime museums, the tall ship above, and a great little fast food fish stand where we gorged on lunch.  A large international film festival was starting the next day, and walking streets and cafés abounded.  We spent most of the afternoon trying to line up tours of a wind turbine manufacturing plant and an actual wind turbine.  On the latter, you can climb 60 or so metres up a wind tower to an observation deck located just below the nacelle.

Photo from the net

They were however not offering the tour during our time frame.  I know this because I used google translate to translate back and forth emails about 3 times with their German-only speaking contact 🙂  I was very persistent with our contact at Enercon’s HUGE production facility in Aurich and managed to get us a tour at 9AM the next morning.  Aurich was about 40km away though so we needed to set off in the late afternoon from Emden.

Enjoying the late afternoon sun as we cycled into the wind turbine landscape of Northwest Germany.
This part of Germany is also referred to as Friesland, and shares its love of transportation canals with Holland across the inlet. This particular one was a canal "roundabout" - 4 canals joined the central roundabout through individual locks. Can't recall ever seeing one of these before!
no, not 9 blades on one turbine ... I just like when 3 turbines line up!
perhaps not recommended in the bicycle safety guide, but it worked for me, and Yvonne got comfortable with this approach too.
We found the PERFECT place to make dinner. Soft afternoon sun, beautiful boat to gaze at, and a picnic table to boot.
Actually, Yvonne did almost all our meals (I don't like cooking on her camp stove). Note the beer ... we were back in cheap Germany again. And note Kaia - she was (and still is) hands down the most conscientious blogger of the four of us.
Jake is now part of the dinner prep team.
It's the little details that matter in the transportation game. We saw good bike locking facilities at even the smallest, remote bus stops.
When we arrived in Aurich we got a little sneak preview of our next day's tour. Holy jumping big blades, Batman!

I used the satellite photo feature on google maps to locate a forest right near the Enercon production facility in Aurich.  We weren’t too sure how discreet the forest site would be for camping so planned our arrival to have just enough light to set up the tent before jumping in (yes, that’s about 11PM!).


We awoke in the morning to this lovely sight - probably one of the nicest campsites we found in Germany. Note that the German flag had been reinstalled on our bike trailer safety pole.

We camped only 1.5 km from the Enercon factory so thought that the 15 minutes we’d left to get there would be ample.  But it turns out that the “factory” is actually a huge campus of factories and support buildings, all with significant security, so it took quite a while to navigate to our tour desk.  The four us met with 2 other Enercon employees visiting from their Spanish operation and our very energetic and extremely knowledgeable guide, Timo. Unfortunately, cameras are not permitted inside the buildings for competitive/security reasons.  I say unfortunately, because the visuals of the production of 55m turbine blades in different stages of manufacture are really quite breathtaking.  This facility produces blades for their 3MW Enercon 121 turbine model, which means that the rotor diameter is 121m.  The hub sits atop towers that are anywhere from 100 to 150m high!   Enercon makes blades for their other turbine sizes in 9 other factories around the world (though 6 of them are in Germany).  Their largest, with blades 70m long sitting on 135m towers crank out an amazing 7.5MW.  One of Enercon’s competitive advantages is that their blades can be “feathered” in high winds (change the pitch) so that they don’t need to be shut down like some competitors’ do (they DO need to be shut down above 30m/s which is storm like).  The generators that sit in the hubs were produced in the next factory over, and the towers and hubs in other facilities in northern Germany.  Enercon bought the local train company outright so they could customise it to get their blades to the port 45km away.  This business is not for the faint of heart!
The factory is massive, of course, and was a hive of activity.  Blade manufacture is still done almost entirely by humans.  In this case, 3 shifts of 300 workers work around the clock, producing 1 blade per shift.  So that is blades for 1 turbine each and every day.  There were about 35 stations that the blades moved through … and at 55m long you can imagine that the task of moving the blades from station to station is not insignificant!  Blades are a combination of fibreglass, resin, and lightweight plywood.  And when spinning at such high velocities, there is no room for error.
Our guide was full of great anecdotes, and quite enjoyed describing his ultimate boss, the Enercon owner/founder, Aloys Wobben.  This fellow is now relinquishing control due to his age, but he is apparently both very laid back on the shop floor (wanders around, just watching and smiling, blending in) and very demanding of his team.  In earlier years he would be working on design issues at home on a Sunday, and when he thought he had a break-through he’d call up his senior team to come over to the house to provide feedback on the new idea.  Telling him that you’re in the middle of Sunday dinner with your family was not an option!
Eventually the tour moved outside and I was able to pull out my camera.

Different countries have different requirements for the painting of the blades. Germany was 2 red stripes on the tips.
That's me. Wow!!



I was impressed by many things on the tour.  But mostly I came to realise how complicated, high tech and large scale (physically) the wind turbine industry is.

Enercon had just finished construction on this biogas generation facility that fed electricity into its manufacturing plants. The flexible roofs allow gas to collect in the digesters below, and provides a low pressure feed of methane into the electrical generators. Feedstock includes mostly manure and agricultural waste.

From Aurich we continued east across northern Germany … right into an Enercon wind farm!

Look for me at the bottom of the tower.


Google maps was actually quite impressive in its ability to find cycling paths. But in a few rare cases like this, the paths got a bit "rustic".
We were still in the "Frieseland" part of Germany where navigable canals are pervasive.

A full afternoon of canal-side pedalling brought us to near Varel where we camped.  At this point we actually had a “deadline” to arrive at Yvonne’s Aunt and Uncle’s farm in Denmark where they and Yvonne’s mom would be waiting for us.  Sadly, we were out of time for riding in Germany so planned to catch the train across the rest of northern Germany, then north from Lubeck to the tip of the penninsula at Puttgarden where we’d catch a ferry north to Denmark. 


This would normally be quite straight forward, even though the trip involved 4 different train connections.  However, it became pretty clear to us the next day on our first train leg out of Varel that this was not just any day.  It was Friday afternoon of a weekend with a beautiful forecast!  We could barely move with our bikes  amidst the throngs of travellers at the Oldenburg train station and wondered how we could possibly fit into the next train with our bikes – especially in light of the many other folks standing beside us with their bikes.  At that point a Deutsch Bahn official approached us and asked us if we’d made a booking for our bikes on the intercity train.  No, we hadn’t, and now it was impossible because they were all sold out, and you have to reserve at least 24 hrs in advance. That meant we’d need to take a series of regional trains, and our journey would extend from 7 hrs to 9 hrs, including the many waits at stations.  Lesson learned.  For anyone planning to take bikes on trains in Germany, here’s how it works:
Intercity Express trains: no bikes allowed
Intercity trains: reservations required
Regional trains: no reservation req’d, but sometimes you need to pay for bikes
We arrived in the port of Puttgarden at 9PM and quickly cycled to the ferry terminal to see if we could catch the 9:20 ferry to Denmark.  Just in time.

For some reason, I really enjoy riding onto car ferries.

The 1hr journey put us into Rødbyhavn Denmark a little later than we’d wanted to be looking for camping (10:30PM), but we were excited to get to Denmark.  Yvonne’s late father Flemming was Danish and her mother Betty is an honourable Dane – she speaks Danish, cooks Danish, thinks Danish, and has visited Denmark probably 40 times.  Yvonne travelled to Denmark almost every summer as a child, and the kids and I have been 4 times, thanks to Yvonne’s Dad’s desire for his family to stay connected to this fantastic part of the world.  Making this all possible over the years was Flemming’s sister Marianne’s wonderful farm 1hr north of Copenhagen where we would stay.  More on that in a later blog entry.
We weren’t really too sure what we could find campsite-wise in the falling darkness, but after 5km of rather random cycling we stumbled into the absolutely perfect freedom campsite – in a little park surrounded by thick forest, with a picnic table to boot!

Next morning. Not bad, considering we found it in almost dark! We "lowered" the German flag on our safety pole and raised the Danish flag. We all agreed that the Danish flag looks pretty good beside the Canadian flag.

We had about 210km to cycle to the farm, and decided to try to do it in 2 days.  We’d been talking about putting in a really full day to try to beat our best day from Holland, and this seemed to be the day. 


As soon as we hit the road we knew we’d chosen the right day to ride … we had the wind at our back, and were riding between 25 and 30 km/hr for long stretches of lovely bike path.  Yes, Denmark too has fantastic cycling infrastructure, and Yvonne and I had cycled through Denmark when she was pregnant with Kaia and knew we’d be treated to highway-side paths all the way.



A rare stretch without path. But in Denmark wind turbines are ubiquitous. Denmark boasts the highest percent of wind power in a national grid - now up to 25%! They started 25 years ago through something like Germany's later Feed In Tariff. That said, wind power is still somewhat controversial in Denmark (they treasure their aesthetic agrarian heritage) and the country has fairly recently decided to focus almost all their new wind developments off shore.
With cycling speeds up to 30 km/hr, Kaia thought it was important to beef up little Galdis's safety protocol. He is strapped in now with a helmet and has a reflective chest harness.
We weren't the only ones logging lots of km this day. We saw two big groups go by - all with similar jerseys.
A Danish femail man.
If truth be known, the thing we were most looking forward to in getting back to Denmark was the bakeries. Dutch ones were great. German amazing. Danish? Out of the park! We had our budgetary priorities clearly established by this point on the cycle tour - spend as little as possible on accommodation (we're only there for a few hours anyway) so we could go nuts at the bakeries. And its not too often that you can happily ignore calorie counts (6 or more hrs of riding!)
I'm glad this 3km long bridge had a dedicated cycle lane!

Yvonne had popped a spoke the day before and it became apparent that we had to have it fixed, but didn’t want to lose too much time on our record distance attempt day.  A very obliging guy in a bike shop in Vordingsborg fixed it for free while we dined on sandwiches at the edge of the supermarket parking lot, then away we went.

Our route north to Køge passed along the east coast for a while.

We’d done 60 km by lunch, and were feeling pretty good until we hit a really hilly and side-windy section of about 20 km. Record-setting was in doubt until things levelled out again and we got the speed back up.  We watched our previous best of 104 km roll by with a whoop, then 110, and cruised into Køge on the coast at 120.  But by the time we’d cycled around the port, found dinner, and another freedom campsite, the odometer looked like below.

I was proud of my family. Before our trip, the kids had never done more than 38km. And now this with loads. They were really tired but not complaining.

We’d actually decided to take a campsite that night to charge our google map-enabled phone, but they wanted about $40 for a little piece of grass.  We all agreed that we could probably get enough charge into the phone during a bakery stop the next morning :), so we headed to another urban forest.

You'd never know that we were in a pretty decent sized town. We rolled the bikes through some forest paths for a couple of hundred metres and here we were.

We got an early start the next day because we still had a long way to go and wanted to arrive in time for dinner at the farm.  It was a fairly non-descript sort of day/ride, though I very clearly remember our lunch – that we made on a table just outside a fabulous bakery (OK, yes, I’m obsessed …).  We cycled north past the western outskirts of Copenhagen and finally hit recognisable turf in the city of Hillerød.  Aside from having all the great attributes of Danish towns (like walking streets, cycle shops and bakeries), Hillerød is known for Frederiksborg castle built on top of the ruins of a 1500s castle during the early 1600s by Danish King Christian IV.

Frederiksborg Castle. We'd visited the castle on a previous trip so we cycled past.

We were pretty excited at this point.  We had but 25km of cycling left to reach the farm, and we knew it was all through a large beautiful (Gribskov) forest.  The well-marked gravel paths would take us right to the farm gate, and we knew the last few km very well.

Bike route 33 - Hillerød to the beach at Gilleleje, right past the destination of "Gyldenlund" (Mariana and Borge's farm).
I really loved these trails, but the very steep little hills were killers with the heavy trailer. I'd been taking pain killers on and off the whole cycle tour because I'd strained my knees trekking in Nepal. As it turns out, I would not have been able to put in another day riding - my knees were done. How's that for timing!
Bittersweet feelings here for sure. 1700+km of magnificent riding coming to an end. But so looking forward to seeing Betty, Marianne and Børge at Gyldenlund.

We found the tiny path that cuts off the cycle trail towards the farm and all started ringing our bells to announce our arrival.  Børge and chocolate lab Bruno were the 1st out, then Betty and Marianne as we rode the last 100m through their field.  Their farm feels like a 3rd home to us.

Great to be home!
from left: Betty, Marianne and Børge.

Earlier in the year’s journey, I had wondered whether our cycle tour through a relatively familiar Europe could hold a candle to the exotic locales of Nepal, Indonesia and Vanuatu.  Of course, they are very different, but the cycling was everything and more than I’d hoped for.  We rode very well as a family and Kaia and Jake really found their legs. We had only 1 flat tire and 1 popped spoke over seven weeks on four bikes.  We ate well.  Yvonne and I drank well. The depth of history and the associated architecture astounded us.  It was wonderful to reconnect with friends we’d met during other journeys.  We were so independent, being able to easily get anywhere we wanted, and because we were willing to freedom camp, we spent no time worrying about or planning where we’d stay each night.  We were outside 98% of the time, including sleeping in our tent all but a few nights.  We were active, and became fit.  But perhaps what stands out the most was the inspiration we all received by the remarkable initiatives the Germans, Dutch and Danes have put in place to help people get out of their cars and on to bicycles.  It truly is a pleasure to cycle in this part of the world.  We included this part of the world in our journey because we wanted to see and document their leadership in sustainable transportation and renewable energy.  I did not get as far as I wanted to in documenting the energy story, in part because of the language gap for me in Germany.  But we were (excuse the tired expression) blown away by the cycling and public transit infrastructure.  After weeks of riding, when we thought we’d seen it all, we’d each day discover new innovations that made our heads race, thinking of possibilities back home.  Yvonne will pick up on this thread in our next entry.
As I write this a full 5 weeks after completing our journey, my knees still keep me off my bike.  But I trust they will heal soon with more rest, and I’m rearing to hit the trails and roads around Peterborough and Haliburton.  Cycling rocks!


A dam good city

“Amsterdam is one of those iconic cities” said my dad as we rode into the city one afternoon after a very windy 50 km ride from Utrecht. Amsterdam first caught my interest when I read the book and watched the movie of The Fault in our Stars by John Green, which partly takes place there. And I can say that our visit to Amsterdam was at least as magical and beautiful as John Green portrayed it.

We are very lucky to have a friend in Amsterdam, who lives about 10 minutes by bike from the city centre. We met Saskia when we lived in Namibia. She was also there through VSO (Volunteer Services Oversees), and was living in the nearest city, Rundu. We stayed with Jelda, (also a VSO in Rundu) in Utrecht, and then with Saskia in Amsterdam. Lucky us!
Saskia was out when we arrived, but she texted us and suggested a very close Indonesian takeout spot for dinner. We had fun practising our (very limited) Indonesian that we had learned there, with the restaurant owner from Surabaya, Java. We brought the food back to Saskia’s place to eat it. It was delicious! Soon after, Saskia walked in. It was great to see her again!
She lives on the bottom floor of a 4 or 5 storey building close to downtown. Since she is on the bottom floor, she has a big backyard, where we could easily fit our tent (a bit easier than fitting our tent in Jelda’s backyard!) We caught up with Saskia about what we had done since we had last seen each other.

In the morning, Saskia said goodbye to us, because she was going to Belgium for the weekend, and invited us to stay in her apartment longer if we wanted. But before she left, she recommended to us the Rijksmuseum, an art gallery downtown with hundreds of paintings from very famous Dutch painters, like Rembrandt and Van Gogh. To get there, we rode though Vondelpark, Amsterdam’s central park. It was lovely. So many people out for exercise, or just chatting at a picnic bench. Also, there were the people like us, riding our bikes from A to B, and enjoying Vondelpark, at the same time.

One of the many ponds of Vondelpark. A message to Peterborough city council: beautiful parks bring people together, make people healthier and happier. Roads do just the opposite. Peterborough is lucky to already have that greenspace. We would be foolish not to preserve it.

When we came out of Vondelpark at the other end, we were in central Amsterdam. We weren’t exactly the “only bikes there”. Amsterdam is known for its bicycles. And no wonder! When we ride our bikes back home in Peterborough, we are almost always the only bikes on the bike lane, when there is a bike lane. So, we don’t have to be so alert. Amsterdam is a very different story… now we are the majority of traffic, not some strange outcast. Now we have traffic rules. Whoa. We will leave that for a separate blog entry. But, I just want to emphasise how many bikes there were. Mind blowing!

Finally, we arrived at the Rijksmuseum (say Rikes museum).


The art gallery is located across the street from a canal, as most of Amsterdam is.
I was blown away at the Realism painting style of the Dutch. I can’t really remember details or names (except Rembrandt and Van Gogh), but I can remember some stories associated with the art.

Van Gogh's self portait. He would experiment many painting techiniques in his many self portaits, and in this one he used a large brush, so you can see the individual strokes.
Here I am looking at Jan Willem Pieneman's Waterloo. He brought together many stories from the battle of Waterloo, and combined them into this painting. This is one of the biggest paintings in the world: 5.5 m by 8.2 m!
Classic Netherlands. A canal, a wind mill, and blue sky. Notice how all the lines converge into one place.
These children interrupting their sister's piano practice are not painted in the Dutch Realism style, but the Italian, more "perfect" style. This artist specialised in drawing children, and I think he did a great job at bringing them to life, and showing their playfulness.
This is an interesting piece. The young people are painted in Italian "perfect" style, while the older people are done in the Dutch Realism. This Dutch artist had lived in Rome, and then combined those styles. I find that very interesting, as it's probably one of the first traces of "arts fusion"!
And finally, Rembrandt's "Nightwatch", the crown jewel of Rijksmuseum. This one is almost as big as Waterloo, but what makes it so special is little things, for example the shadow of one man's hand on another man's chest. But Nightwatch is no secret -- We were some of the 100 people looking at it in that moment!

Rijks museum was very well done. The explanations beside the paintings were very interesting. But the best thing about Rijksmuseum was that there are sheets of paper for almost every piece of art, with a print of that specific painting on it. The print has circles around all the interesting parts of that painting, with explanations on the side. So you could take a sheet, study the painting and find the coolest parts of it. Then, you put the sheet back where you found it. Also, you can download the “Rijksmuseum app”, and listen to even more interpretation.
But we weren’t finished: we still hadn’t checked out the boat exhibit.

These model boats were once used to teach the military about sailing!
Do you know the difference between the ship types Barque, Barkantine, Brig and Brigantine? Neither do I!
I learned that some of the models took longer to build than the ships themselves!

Wow… I was surprised to learn that there were so many amazing artists in such a small country. I would recommend Rijksmuseum to anybody who wants to learn interesting things about history, art, or just the Netherlands in general. Everything was really well explained, with just the right amount of detail.

Right behind Rijksmuseum, there is another one of Amsterdam’s landmarks: the I amsterdam letters.

It's made for people to climb on. I'm on the "t", and Jake is on the "e".

By then it was raining, so some street musicians were performing in the tunnel under Rijksmuseum.


One thing you may know about Amsterdam is that the city has many canals. In fact, all of the Netherlands is full of canals. Amsterdam has many rings of them, with smaller canals connecting the rings.

Here's a map of the inner city. The middle ring is called the Dutch equivalent of "rich man's road", because that was the fanciest place. Then on each ring going outwards the buildings would get less and less nice.

The best ways to see Amsterdam are by bike and by boat. Since it was raining, we chose a boat tour.


Inside the covered boat.
The city was named when they built a dam on the Amstel river, so they called it Amsteldam at first, and later it was changed to Amsterdam.


You can't really tell here, but the houses in Amsterdam are built with a slight slant towards the front. Every building had a pulley system to bring big things to the top apartment. If the buildings weren't slanted, the objects would bang into the balconies of the lower apartments. Most of the buildings still have the pulley system, though they may not use it anymore.
Look at the bikes locked to the bridge! Apparently, there are more bikes than people in Amsterdam.

Have you read the book of The Diary of Anne Frank? Actually, I haven’t yet. But she and her Jewish family lived in Amsterdam, in the secret annex of her father’s business during the holocaust. You can visit the Anne Frank house, if you are patient enough to wait in line! But we saw posters about an Anne Frank play, and people had told us that it was very worthwhile and if you see it, you don’t feel like you have to see the Anne Frank house. So, we booked seats for the evening performance. While we were riding there, it started POURING rain! But we were late and had to keep going. At one point, my mom had a very bad fall that still hurts to this day. Finally, google maps said “you have arrived at your destination”. We were in a construction site. We thought that google had sent us to the wrong place altogether, and we had paid a bunch of money for theatre tickets. But, luckily, we looked a bit more in that neighbourhood and found it! The play was about to start, so the people hustled us to some seats near the back right on time.
Since this is a touristy kind of play, there is a VERY slick translation system. The actors are speaking Dutch, but if you want another language, you get a stand that holds an iPad and earphones. You choose between about 8 languages, and audio and/or subtitles, and there you go. Someone behind the scenes is on a screen clicking whenever a line is said, so you hear the lines real time, even if timing varies between actors of the same role. I loved how even in the English translation, you hear the lines spoken in a Dutch accent. Listening to the translation hardly even detracted a bit from the overall experience.
Anne was born in Frankfurt, Germany in 1929, but she, her parents and older sister Margot moved to Amsterdam in 1933. In 1942, for Anne’s 13th birthday, she received a diary. But unfortunately, shortly after, her family was forced to go into hiding in the secret annex of her father’s business. A woman named Miep delivered them food and supplies. Soon, 4 other Jews joined them in hiding and they were 8 in the tiny apartment. In her diary, Anne describes the challenges of living in cramped quarters. Since she was so bored, she starts flirting with the other family’s son, Peter. But she gets very tired of him, and he starts really liking her! At one point, she is forced to share her room with a very strange adult man! They would often fight over the table in the room — she wanted to write in her diary, and he wanted to study. The way she dealt with these problems was writing in her diary, because it was her only loyal friend to whom she could tell all her troubles.
Horribly, they were found by some Nazis and were brought to a concentration camp. The Nazis threw her diary on the floor. She and her sister Margot were together until the very end, and they died, probably of typhoid in early 1945. Anne was 15.
The only family member to survive was her father, Otto Frank. The family’s loyal friend Miep found Anne’s diary in the secret annex, and it was first published in 1947.
I really enjoyed that play. It showed the story of the Holocaust from a 14 year old girl’s perspective, which made it easier to understand and relate to for me. The translation system was so slick as well, which made this play really excellent. I highly recommend it. I’m now very interested in reading the book.
By the way, the production has only been on for one year, and it’s just getting started. The theatre it takes place in was built for this play. A few days after we went to it, my grandma emailed us and said that she went to see the Anne Frank play in Stratford, Ontario!
The ride home was a bit sketchy in the dark, but luckily we all made it home safely.


The next day, we were going to ride into the city and explore a bit more before riding out of town. But we were all so exhausted that we took a rest day, a day when we are not a) riding somewhere or b) intensely exploring a city. We rode into town again just to ride around and enjoy Amsterdam’s fantastic bike paths.


This is a "pissoir" (right beside the road), if you know what I mean!


My dad gets an email news feed every day of ‘”clean tech” news, and the day before there was an article about a solar panel sidewalk in a village outside of Amsterdam.  So he rode 30km out of town to see it.  He said he didn’t mind riding on a day off because he did not have the bike trailer hooked up.

The traditional entrance to the Amsterdam harbour has been closed off for land reclamation, so the boat traffic uses this canal to get to/from Amsterdam now. My dad crossed it on a ferry.

He said the ride there was great but the solar road was “underwhelming” to see. It is only six months old and was apparently quite controversial locally because of the cost and people didn’t think that the sidewalk would generate much electricity.  But it actually has generated much more than expected (70m long and 3000kWhr in 6 winter months) so it seems to be a good news story.  It was built by a company that is experimenting with generating electricity from road surfaces.  Maybe we’ll see more of these in the future.

The left side is solar panels.
The panels are covered by a rough but strong plexiglass so bikes don't slide and the cover doesn't break.
This is the company's promo slide. How's your Dutch? The electricity generated is used for street lighting.

The rest of us just rode around downtown. We saw the Anne Frank house, and it had a really long lineup! We spent that night at Saskia’s place again, and rode out of town the next morning.
Amsterdam is such a beautiful place. It is on my bucket list to live in downtown Amsterdam for a year or more. A bicycle can get you anywhere in town, and a train can get you anywhere out of town. Arts and music are everywhere. The downtown makes you feel like you’re in the past. All of this together make Amsterdam a beautiful, magical and unique city! I’ll be back, Amsterdam!

Hello, Holland!

Before we started the cycle tour, the biggest distance Kaia and I had cycled in a day was 42 kilometres.  During the first week of the cycle tour, we passed the 60km mark a few times, and while cycling along the Rhine river, we hit 85km.  We felt like we were up for a big goal: 100km.  And what better place to do it than in a very flat country with great bicycle paths: Holland!

Our big day started near the city of Dusseldorf (Germany), in a campground with lots and lots of rabbits.


We needed to get to a grocery store, and we actually spent quite a long time at one, because we had breakfast at the little bakery in it.  We ended up having a kind of late start.  We rode for about 40km to get to the German-Dutch border.

Northern Germany is very windy, so there are a lot of wind turbines.
To get a sense of how huge this wind turbine is, compare it to my dad at the bottom of it. The tiny orange dot is the bike trailer.
There were also lots of solar panels!
We had lunch in the last town in Germany.

Crossing the border into Holland was just as easy as it was between Germany and Switzerland.  All there was to tell us we were entering a new country was a little sign saying “Niederlande”

We took down the German flag...
And put up the Dutch. Unfortunately, we lost it a few days later, because it flew off and landed in a canal!

Our first impressions of Holland were pretty similar to Germany, but we did notice a few changes.  Here are some of the things we noticed:
-The bike paths are great.  They’re almost always separated from the road by a strip of grass, and they’re easily identified because they’re painted red.

-The Dutch language seems to to be halfway between English and German.  Ex: in English “street”, in German “strasse”, so in Dutch “straat”.  The letter J is used a lot in Dutch, as well as double vowels.

-Renewable energy isn’t as big as it is in Germany.  There aren’t many wind turbines, but there are a lot of old-fashioned “windmills”.


We continued our ride north into Holland.

My dad was mad at Kaia for being a "Bad Arcen"
We hit a total distance of 1000km that day, meaning we had cycled 1000km starting from Frankfurt.

At first, it didn’t seem like we would make it to 100km, but the further we went, the more determined we got.  60km… 70… 80…  Once we hit 90km, we knew we would succeed.  We counted down the last few metres.  99.97… 99.98… 99.99… 100 kilometres!!!



Wow!  It was the first time for 3 of us to cycle that far in a day.  It was a big personal accomplishment!  We were tired and it was getting late, so we camped beside a canal right near the place where we hit 100km.


The next day, we continued to ride north.  Now, those of you who have known us for 5 years or more will probably know that we spent a year in Namibia in 2009-2010.  One of our best friends there was Jelda, a woman from Holland who was working in the same volunteer organisation as us, VSO (Volunteer Service Overseas) in Rundu, a town 2 hours away from the village we lived in, Mpungu.  We would often stay at her house when we went to Rundu (Rundu had the closest grocery store to Mpungu, so we had to go pretty often), and we did many safari drives in Etosha national park together.

Here's us with Jelda in Namibia.

When she learned we were going to Holland, she invited us to come visit her in Utrecht, a city about 50km south of Amsterdam.  We planned to ride in to Utrecht and meet her for dinner that evening, but we ran out of time, so took a short train ride to the central station.


Jelda lives close to downtown, so it was a short ride from the central station to her house.  It was so good to see her again!  We also met her husband Nick, and later, their 4-month old daughter Lykke, who was sleeping when we arrived.  We had a delicious dinner, and talked about our experiences on this trip, and from 5 years ago in Namibia.




Their house is pretty small, so we were planning on staying at a campground that night, but they have a small back courtyard; just enough space for our bikes and tent!


We had breakfast with them the next day, and before we left, Jelda introduced us to some Dutch sweets like licorice, sweet bread, and Kaia’s and my favourite, “stroopwaffels” (these waffle cookies with cinnamon and honey in them).  They’re delicious little treats, and were a great replacement during our time away from the land of pretzels, Germany.
We started riding kind of late, and had lunch in a park in Utrecht.


That day, we rode the 50km to Amsterdam, along perfectly flat bike paths, and beside canals (doesn’t get any more Dutch than that!)


Kaia will write a separate blog entry about what we did Amsterdam, so I’ll skip to May 31st, the day we left the city.

The first part of the day was going well, as cycling almost always does in Holland.  After a while though, the weather started to get bad, and my parents wanted to have coffee, so we turned in to what we thought was a cafe.  It was actually a visitor centre for a conservation area.  There was a video about it in English, and we learned a lot.  We were in an area of Holland called Flevoland, which is all reclaimed land, meaning it was once under the sea.  It turns out, the land we had been riding on for the past couple of hours was all below sea level!  It was a very ambitious plan: build dikes around a large section of ocean, then pump the water out until it’s down to land.  Now, they’re really making an effort to help plants and animals begin to live in this new environment.

All the coloured land has been reclaimed! The biggest red area is Flevoland. I find it hard to believe that they were reclaiming land in the 1700s, but I guess that's what all the windmills were for -- pumping water!
The doors of this lock must be really strong, for if they break, all of Flevoland would be flooded!

As we continued our ride, the weather worsened.

While riding along a dike, we went by a huge new wind farm.

We hit 100km in the town of Emmeloord, and we were so cold and wet that the idea of camping was out of the question.  We stayed at a hotel, a little over our budget, but definitely worth it!  Ah, it felt so good to have a warm shower, get dry, and have a creamy hot chocolate at the restaurant in the hotel.  We slept excellently that night.

There isn’t too much to say about our ride the next day, but we made it to 104 km (a new record) and camped at a campground just outside of Groningen, in the north of Holland.  We were interested in learning about Groningen because it’s the town that has the highest percentage of trips done by bicycle in the world.  59%!  While cycling through the town, we really felt like part of the majority, not a minority like we do in Canada.  We went to City Hall to meet with some of the transportation planners and learn why Groningen is so bicycle-friendly and how it came to be that way.  There will be a later blog entry about cycling infrastructure in European cities, so the details about Groningen will be there.

We rode out of Groningen that day, and headed towards an inlet at the northeastern border of Holland and Germany.  The last ferry of the day to cross the inlet of had already left though, and it would take a long time to cycle around it, so we spent the night at a little campground near the ferry.

It was cold and rainy outside, but we ate and slept inside a nice, warm, dry little greenhouse!

We took an early ferry across the inlet the next day, back into Germany.  Holland is one of our favourite countries on this trip.  It is such a lovely country.  Its beautiful bike paths, interesting history, and smiling, friendly people made us feel happy too.


Almost home … what are we looking forward to the most?

About an hour ago, we started coming home.  At 11:30 PM tonight we started a hike up the mountain overlooking Reykjavik.  Sounds like a crazy time to start a hike? We wanted to fully experience the “white nights” here in Iceland on the longest day of the year.  At the top of our hike (1:00 AM), in what felt like broad daylight, we turned to come down, and realised we were now on our way home, after 10 months away.  In fact we’ll be back at my mom’s in Toronto before the day was finished.  Wow.

Near the top of Mt Esja, Iceland at 1:00AM, June 21st

We had a fantastic dinner in Reykjavik with Yvonne’s mom Betty who has been travelling with us this past week, and we mulled over our year.  Made lots of notes regarding our fave countries, experiences, moments and learning.  And on the suggestion of one of our readers, we reflected on what it was that we’ve missed the most about home … or what it was that we were most looking to coming back to.  It is the wee hours of the morning now, but still so light out.  I thought I’d post some of our thoughts before we arrive back in Canada.  Our blog has been relatively quiet of late.  That’s in part because the never ending light has resulted in … never ending days for us.  Haven’t really slowed down enough lately to sit in front of a keyboard.  But look for lots of updates in the days to come.  And we’re also looking forward to sharing some thoughts on being back at home.
So, here’s what we’re really looking forward to back at home (beyond, of course, seeing family and friends)

– knowing the city well and being able to get around independently (by bike)
– having choices for clothes in the morning
– having some lazy days

– having a house to live in
– lazy days

– speaking the language and knowing the “rules”
– consistent access to clean underwear
– listening to CBC radio

– having my own kitchen to find food and cook in
– the lake, smells, and activities of the cottage
– working in our vegetable garden
– listening to CBC radio

One thing we’re ALL looking forward to is summer weather.  Germany, Holland and Denmark were mostly quite cool.  No hot days.  Iceland has been downright chilly.  A local remarked to me yesterday how “nice a day” it was, and I appeared a bit puzzled .. it was about 12 degC out, on June 19th.  Then she clarified and said “it’s not raining, and isn’t that windy”.  🙂  Just checked the Peterborough forecast … 25degC here we come!


Rolling down the Rhine, take two

Unfortunately, I am the latest victim of the glitchy WordPress app — an entire blog entry got “hung” while uploading, and was subsequently lost.  I can’t believe we haven’t figured out a convenient way to back up these entries.  Anyway, I have decided not to rewrite the whole thing for three reasons:
1.  The main purpose of the blog, for me, is to take time to reflect on experiences we have had and consolidate the things I’ve learned.  I already did that.
2.  I refuse to spend more of my vacation time writing about it.
3.  We are down to one working keyboard, so I won’t continue to monopolise it.

We are presently in Iceland, touring around in a small campervan with my mom.  The weather has been cool and quite changeable in terms of sun and rain. The icebergs that calved off of Jökulsárlón Glacier look surreal and blue in the glacial outflow.

So… back to the Rhine River in Germany!  Great place to cycle.  We spent 3 days going from Mannheim to Koblenz, then trained up to Köln (which is actually Cologne for all of us English speakers!)


I have chosen a dozen photos to illustrate some highlights from the journey.


Oppenheim is a quaint city celebrating its 1250th anniversary this year!  It boasts a complex labyrinth of underground cellars that used to be for storing trade goods — especially the wine for which the region is famous.


The Rhine was historically and still is a busy transportation corridor!  It’s headwaters are in the Swiss Alps and it flows all the way to Rotterdam.  There is a constant stream of boats going in both directions (both freight and passenger), and there are train tracks and roads on both banks.  The cycle path is lovely and well-used.


Here is Cam in front of one of the many vineyards we saw — and notice the wind turbines in the background.


We had no problem finding waterfront lunch spots.


One industry on the bank of the Rhine is BASF.  I don’t know exactly what they produce, but they have a huge campus in Mainz where every worker is issued a bicycle!


Now I know that “Bingen on the Rhine” is a real (and romantic) place.  Kaia, Jake, and I remember laughing about its name when we read Anne of Green Gables.  Anne described how Gilbert Blythe gave a wonderful recitation of the poem “Bingen on the Rhine” at a community event.  We thought it sounded hilarious!  The arches in the photo are part of a large castle/tower complex.


My favourite castle along the Rhine was Burg Rheinstein.  It is compact and was nicely restored in the 1800’s by Prince Friedrich of Prussia who used it as a summer residence.  The photo above is of the basket that was used in the Middle Ages to punish travelers who tried to avoid paying the toll. I’m hoping Prince Friedrich used it for a nice potted plant.


Here we are cycling towards Marksburg Castle (on the hill in background).  Our record for longest cycling day was 85km.  Go team!


Magnificent Marksburg Castle is said to be the best preserved along the Rhine.  We took a tour to see many of its authentic features.


Jake liked the display of armour throughout the ages.  Some of it was pretty scary looking.


We often found ourselves camping among the motorhomes and trailers.  This was our last night, in Koblenz.


The sweet end to our journey down the Rhine was meeting up with Falko, (whom Cam had met in Nepal) and going to the Lindt chocolate factory in Köln.  The kids are holding their custom chocolate bars that they got to design.  Falko also took us to the impressive Gothic Cathedral (which took over 600 years to complete!) and out for lunch at a classic pub that served great German sausages and beer.  The beer came in small 0.2L glasses (as opposed to the 1L steins that are so common in Bavaria).  But until you cover your glass with a coaster, the waiter keeps bringing more.  No matter how you cut it, the Germans love their beer!

I have met my self-imposed quota of 12 photos… well, let’s make it a baker’s dozen.



Sustainability. Family. Adventure.