New England 2019: Cape Cod and the Islands

Wednesday the 28th of August, I rose at dawn to a sunny morning, with rain forecast for 13:30. Cheryl was still on Pacific Time and overslept. We missed the 09:00 ferry, which proved to be a blessing. We walked to Faneuil Hall, got Cheryl a SIM card at Walgreen’s, and enjoyed custom handmade ice cream sandwiches on the Wharf. The fast ferry put us at MacMillan Pier in Provincetown at 15:30. By 17:30, we had checked into the Dune’s Edge Campground abutting the Cape Cod National Seashore. The rain never materialized. Continue reading

Update: crossing the border

This week, I would like to summarize some lessons learned from crossing dozens of borders over the last six years. I posted on this topic in December 2014. This article has been updated to reflect my travels in Europe and Canada since then. Continue reading

New England 2019: Connecticut

This week, I share a travel report for those who have asked for more travelogue. Driving a car doesn’t count. My ride begins on Tuesday, the 20th of August 2019, in Andover, Connecticut, an invisible town hiding in the woods east of Manchester and Bolton. Continue reading

Is there room at the inn? (not a Christmas story)

When riding long distances or travelling with an open-ended itinerary, one often does not know where one will stop for the night. Detailed planning quickly falls apart. This story from four years ago remains relevant today, in the middle of the travel season. I hope it helps. 
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The Tour de France: recalling the Pyrénées

Photo: The Guardian

Last week, I enjoyed watching the Tour de France race through the countryside that Cheryl and I rode in the summer of 2017. On some stages, the helicopter photos of the mountains upstaged the drama on the road. Some of you joined this blog less than two years ago, and others have asked for more travelogue. This week, I revisit that ride with you. Enjoy! Continue reading

Sea story: Italy, then and now (1956-2019)

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The Outer Banks and Home

Rolling out the east gate of Camp LeJeune, I left the quiet, smooth roads of the Marine Corps Base and found myself dodging potholes and pickup trucks on Bear Creek Road. At the same time, I was looking forward to riding the 56 km to Emerald Isle, the barrier island at the south end of what most people consider the Outer Banks. Nothing could spoil my mood. Continue reading