Funny touring stories

[bikepacker]

Knowing the nearest person would be at least 2 miles away I wild camped at Ardnamurchan near the lighthouse. It was a fantastic sunset over the Hebrides and I climbed into bed very happy to be in this magical place. Suddenly in the blackness of night, I was awakened by what sounded to be a large pack of dogs. Expecting to be attacked at any moment I gingerly looked out of the tent and peered into the darkness. After a few minutes I detected the sound was coming from well below me on the beach. At this point my concern turned to relief as I said to myself; “you silly fool Alan don’t you know the sound of seals”.

 

[Nigeyy]

On tour in the Czech Republic.

Me and a couple of touring buddies go into a restaurant outside Prague on a Sunday evening. We sit down, and quick as a flash, I reach for my Czech phrase book.....

In my best Czech, I ask the waiter for the menu, and to my great pride, he signals he understands and goes for menus. I can't believe it -I mean I actually could communicate using this little phrase book. I feel terrific, 10 feet tall, and I beam at my friends in my new found glow of lingual gymnastics with my chest ever so slightly puffed out. The waiter comes back with the menus. Boy, I am really good.

Seconds later, feel about 2 inches tall when I realize all the menus are in Czech.... Learnt my lesson with this one.

 

[Bodhbh]

We also had a incident with a car running off the road whilst we were in Sweden. the scene was no cover for a pee, so could only use the long grass but once I was down I would be out of sight, so as I squatted I pulled my shorts down at the same time, in complete ignorance of the fact a car was about to come around the corner. He failed on taking the corner too distracted by what he thought he could see!

Reminds me, I was in Croatia coming down out the mountains towards coast. That great feeling when all the altitude is in the bank and you're cashing in with a very long 35mph freewheel. Halfway down, I stopped at a layby to get some photos of the sea. There was a car parked there, and I didn't really pay it much heed at first - till I noticed no one was inside and the passanger door was left wide open. So I walk around to have a look at the passanger side and see what the matter is. Hey-ho there's a couple shagging on the floor. They're horrified and I suppose from their point of view a bloke with a camera has just snook up on them. I just nod, walk off and hop back on the bike.

 

[robjh]

Hmm let's see...

.. a couple shagging in the surf just below my stealth camping spot in some Portuguese dunes....

.. a chilling screeching from nearby woods at 3 a.m. while wild-camped in Bulgaria. I lay there wondering just what wild boar would sound like.

.. also in Bulgaria, I found that a pot of set yoghurt, after two days in panniers in 30 degree heat, makes a nice yoghurt drink (tried this several times after I discovered it)

.. arriving in a Moroccan town, Abdel rides his bike up beside me and says 'I show you where good hotels are, hotels not here'. It's hard to shake him off and I think 'what the.., I can handle this', so follow him and get taken to an ideal, cheap and clean, place. I buy Abdel a coffee and sure enough, he has an antiques shop, and maybe I would have a look tomorrow. Just to look, of course, he understands I don't want to buy anything.
Next morning I'm out early to explore the town, I'd forgotten about Abdel, but then return to get the bike for a minor repair, and surprise! There's Abdel waiting for me. He says not to use the bike shop next door, he knows a good honest Berber who'll do the job for half the price. Again, despite myself I follow him. And, amazement, the good honest Berber's bike repair shop is near Abdel's shop, so I lamely go with Abdel, just to look.... It's good stuff, the town is renowned for its traditional jewellery but I stick to my guns and don't buy anything, but do fleetingly admire one necklace.
'600 dirhams' says Abdel, 'how much you offer?'
'Nothing' I replied, 'I don't want to buy anything' .
'Yes, but if you did want, how much you offer?'
Eventually I walked out of the shop, back towards the good honest Berber with my bike. I didn't look back. Two minutes later a voice beside me said '400 dirhams, I make you a good offer'. Abdel pursued me with the necklace up to the honest Berber's shop (he had done a good honest job on the brake cable) and beyond. His last imploring words as I rode off were '200 dirhams. 200 dirhams!'

 

[bikepacker]

We had one follow us around Tangiers for 5 hours trying to sell my wife a coat. She made the big mistake of touching it to feel the material. He wanted euros and started at 40 and after all that pestering my wife capitualated at 6. The cats at home loved it and used it as a bed.

 

[Alan Frame]

Many, many years ago in my youth I was ambling aimlessly around Europe and found myself marooned in Strasbourg late at night, not really knowing where I was after a close liaison with a bottle of red.
I had no idea where any campsites were and was absolutely exhausted so pitched up in almost complete darkness on a decent piece of grass in desperate need of sleep.
I was awoken a short time later by the local constabulary who informed me I was on the mayor of Strasbourg's front lawn.........

Thinking about it, it was that same holiday that I was woken from my slumbers by a Spanish border guard jabbing me in the ribs with his gun because I was asleep in the overhead luggage rack of a crowded train.

Or the time I went for an early morning walk along a deserted beach in Spain and remarked on the sound of an engine which seemed to be getting louder and louder. On glancing back I became aware that I was in imminent danger of being run over by a light aircraft trying to land.
I ran, because he obviously wasn't pulling out.

It's all about the memories isn't it ?

 

[vernon]

The sleeper train journey from Munich to Paris was not without incident for my pal Rohit and me this year. We were on a marathon eight train ride from Budapest to Leeds. We are bad news for each other when it comes to consuming intoxicants and our alcohol consumption had gone through the roof as we cycled from Passau to Budapest.

We had two and a half hours to kill in Munich and we dutifully made out way to a source of alcohol in Munich Station's concourse, we'd already done something similar in Budapest, Vienna and Saltzburg that day and once in possession of the hooch we set up stall just outside the station and spent a a pleasurable few hours with the local members at the fringe of German society. We shared alcohol, laughs, kebabs (mmmmm.... kebabs.....mmmmm.....) and cigarettes ( I went from naught to thirty a day in a week) with the locals and we were bemused by the rush to collect our empty bottles by them until we realised that there was a refundable deposit on them.

I recalled seeing a chap hovering in my visual peripheral vision and mentally questioned his taste in footwear - wierd spiky soles and clothing more suitable for someone fifteen or so years younger but discarded the significance of his presence.

Close to the departure of the train we made our way to the cycle carriage and deposited the bikes and took our key luggage to our sleper compartment. We opened the door of the compartment and was surprised to see a couple of women in it. They were as surprised as we were as we were all convinced that DBB operated a single gender booking system. In our befuddled state we decided that if we retreated to the end of the carriage and demolished a half bottle of vodka the women will have got used to us sharing the compartment and things would be hunky dory. The train set off.

Ten minutes into the vodka, the guard turned up and asked if it was our luggage in compartment 124. We confirmed it to be the case and he then demanded to see our tickets. We proffered them and after close scrutiny - we had a fistful each we were told that we were in the wrong compartment. We insisted that this wasn't so but discovered that not only were we in the wrong compartment but we were also in the wrong coach.....

Just before we recovered our gear we had a quick glug of vodka. We'd just replaced the cap on the vodka and found ourselves hemmed in in corner of the coach by two men, one of them was the one that I'd spotted wearing the questionable shoes in Munich station. At first I thought that were were going to be mugged then I saw the warrant card - he was a plain clothed policeman. We recovered our passports from the wrong compartment and watched as he tucked my pals passport under his arm and rang my details through on his mobile phone. He had two phone conversations before handing the passports back and without any explanation left us and moved along the train.

We recovered our gear and fought our way through a couple of dozen Chinese passengers to the our correct compartment. It was locked! That could only mean that it was occupied. Peering through a crack we could see a couple of women on the lower bunks but no signs of movement when we knocked on the window. More vodka!

Rohit fought his way back to find the guard to seek assistance and came back with the news that the guard was unwilling to assist as we weren't in his coach. Bureaucracy or what? Our slurred protestations were spotted by a young chap who exuded charm and sophistication and after listening to us describing our predicament, tried to get the women to open the door as he was German and was certain that they'd respond to him. No joy! We suggested that the occupants might actually be chinese as we'd fought our way through a lot of them. He prised the crack open a tad more and in fluent chinese demanded that the women opened the door. How surprised were we!

Our Tutonic Indiana Jones then went off to find the reluctant guard - we'd failed to find our designated guard. About twenty minutes later we were in the compartment after our new friend and the guard had spent a considerable amount of time banging on the door and shouting aggressively thought the crack. 'Indiana' told us that the women had refused to open the door because 'their guard' had told them to keep it locked but that he was relieved that they were Austrian and therefore stupid as German citizens would have recognised their obligations to their fellow citizens.

At this stage we were happy to forego further alcohol and just climb into our bunks - ones at the top. Getting into them was easy getting out a nightmare as the easiest way was to have the ladder behind you and descend be using your heels on the rungs gripping the ladder behind you.

In the middle of the night I had to pay a vist to the toilet. I fumbled around in the semi dark and had just got myself stratgically placed at the top of the ladder when my shorts fell round my ankles and I was dressed commando. I was paralysed with panic and prayed that the women were in deep sleep as I'd had enough hassle on the train aready. I couldn't let go of the ladder to recover from the situation and managed to recover my modesty once I managed to reach the coach floor.

Thankfully the rest of the ride was event free.

 

[vernon]

Then there was Amsterdam last year when I called into a coffee shop next door to the Indonesian restaurant where I'd just eaten a three course meal. One 'coffee' later I'd lost the ability to speak, was convinced that I was in Copenhagen, was unable to read English, was texting my pal in Latin and then went on to have a three course Greek meal, a fifteen inch diameter dutch pancake with a mountain of cherries and ice cream, half the contents of the vending machine at Vondelpark hostel and found myself with four Cornettos because I found the mechatronic ice cream dispenser so entertaining that I needed to see action replays.

My last text before unconsciousness caught up with me was: 'plenus sum'

 

[grolyat]

I got off a ferry in Wellington, NZ at about two in the morning. It was't worth pitching a tent or finding a hostel at that time, so I settled down in my sleeping bag on a bench in a deserted park.

The sprinklers came on at four...

 

[BigonaBianchi]

I pitched my tent on the touchline of a french football pitch only to be woken in the morning by the refs whistle...oops

 

[TheDoctor]

Not exactly a cycling one, this, but anyhow...
I was on a gulet, cruising around the Gulf of Somewhere-or-other in Turkey. Lovely warm night, and I decided to sleep up on the deck, where there was foam matting especially for this purpose.
And I duly fell asleep under the stars.
All was peaceful, until I was awoken by the two Dutch guys we'd been drinking with earlier, who'd nipped up for a bit of al fresco together time. I assume (or hope!) they'd not noticed me.
So, what do you do when a couple of guys are having vigorous and noisy sex, about 10 feet away?
I rolled over and went back to sleep...

 

[ComedyPilot]

Not exactly a cycling one, this, but anyhow...
I was on a gulet, cruising around the Gulf of Somewhere-or-other in Turkey. Lovely warm night, and I decided to sleep up on the deck, where there was foam matting especially for this purpose.
And I duly fell asleep under the stars.
All was peaceful, until I was awoken by the two Dutch guys we'd been drinking with earlier, who'd nipped up for a bit of al fresco together time. I assume (or hope!) they'd not noticed me.
So, what do you do when a couple of guys are having vigorous and noisy sex, about 10 feet away?
I rolled over and went back to sleep...

Pics or it didn't happen.......

 

[TheDoctor]

Pics or it didn't happen.......

Like I'm going to take photos of that!!
Anyway, it would have put them off their stroke, so to speak...
*searches for inappropriate smiley*

 

[Simon_m]

I cycled into a prison work camp to ask directions! All these guys in orange outfits, I asked them where the camp ground was, they just pointed me to this guard. By the time I got to him several other guards, all with guns, approached me. I put on my best English accent and said I was lost and asked where the camp ground was Then i cycled off.

 

[SatNavSaysStraightOn]

I cycled into a prison work camp to ask directions! All these guys in orange outfits, I asked them where the camp ground was, they just pointed me to this guard. By the time I got to him several other guards, all with guns, approached me. I put on my best English accent and said I was lost and asked where the camp ground was Then i cycled off.

that reminds me of my husband in greece last year. during the riots in december just before Christmas, we needed to go to the greek national bank to get some money out. we had roughly found the way following some directions we were given and were in the right square. after several circuits my husband decided the best approach was to ask the riot police where the greek national bank was! it worked and we were directed there politely whilst they continued to prevent the rioters from getting any closer to said bank!