Written sitting in Garden terrace of a reconstructed stone 13th century farmhouse. 2 weeks into the trip I had better take some stock. So far we've done about 750km and used one tyre (mine) and eaten our weight in chocolate.

But I'm getting ahead of myself as usual, let me start at the very beginning ( a very good place to start). A rather flustered and somewhat embarassed start. We have been dreaming about the start for 3 years and when it arrived we didn't know what to do. Standing on top of Calton Hill we were seen off by a band of family and friends and my brother Dick piped us off to a great start. Having only ever driven south from Edinburgh, the Borders proved to be somewhat of a shock to the system. I had always seen them as meek and mild and not very steep. Well they were, it didn't help that I was very unfit and carrying a good 3 or 4 stones (20 to 25 kgs) of extra blubber. The biggest surprise was the weather, hot and extremely humid. That coupled with a headwind meant a somewhat strenuous start to the trip. (Jenny breezeed ahead as always).

The last week of planning and plotting ahad been a rush and we had never got round to fully loading the bikes. The result was when we finally tried on all the bags they didn't fit. We had to repack our luggage the first night to make sure it was all ballanced OK. My brother Paul joined us bring my neice Alison on her first camping trip. Of course at that point the heavens opened and the rain began. If we had known what was on its way I think we w ould have turned around at that point.

The second day was to be a bit of a trial. The bikes at this point were finally packed but the heat and the humidity were still well into the uncomfortable zone. My brother Mark has lived in Melrose on a very steep hill it was with a huge amount of trepidation that we approached the hill. I got about 50m up the hill and screwed up a gear change falling over, only to have Jenny breeze past me as if I was standing still (which I was, well lying still). That set the scene for the day. Chasing the dot on the horizon that was Jenny. The rest of the day was spend slogging up hills that at the time I found incredibly steep and had to get off and push far too often. I had always thought that when I left Scotland I would glide effortlessly upto the border take a brief photo and press on. Reality was somewhat different as I, shamefacedly pushed the bike upto the border sweating, wheezing and panting to be greeted by a freezing Jenny who had been there ages.

The really annoying fact was we could just about see Melrose form the border. Lack of fitness meant what should have been a short easy day was turned into a complete pig. The long descent to Keilder Water campsite was a dream after all the exertions of the afternoon.

The next 2 days were in effect spent killing time waiting for the ferry to Holland. Killing time you will learn is code for eating chocolate and / or sweeties. The ferry was a dream come true after 4 days of camping in the rain we had our very own cabin, just one problem we couldn't afford to eat the food so my last meal in the UK was pretzels from the sh op and a bottle of plonk.

Holland has always been a 'cyclists paradise'. Well that's what the Dutch say at least. At first we were really offended by the Dutch cyclists. In Britain when you pass a cyclist you would smile and maybe even greet them. This is 2 members of an endangered species aknowledging each others survival. The Dutch don't, everyone cycles so why bother? Another problem we had was that I had assumed that all dutch roads were cyclable or had cycle paths next to them.

This proved true about HALF the time. Just when you were getting comfortable on a route they would disappear, sooooo annoying. we solved the problem by buying a map of the Dutch long distance cycle network. What a fantastic route!

We followed the route (LF7) down to Maastricht in the south of Holland. Then a quick easy day into Belguim and another few days we would be in Luxembourg, or so we thought. Well I had always thought Belgium was flat, we had only been across the border for 10km when the hills began (15% to 18% in places). If it wasn't for the beer and the chocolate I could have gone off Belgium. But as we slogged through the rain (it had by this point rained every single day of the trip) and the hills we made a discovery. Jenny has long been a beer hater, simply she doesn,t like the stuff. Until we discover some nectar called Hoegaarten Grande Cru, not only does this stuff taste wonderful it's cheap and has a hidden 8.5 percent alc. 2 of these for her birthday and the wee Tazzy was spinning, she barely managed her daily chocolate ration but persevered to force it down. Luxembourg we went through in a day, it was sunday so it was shut anyway. The main roads were empty so we blasted through the country in one go and on int o France.

Belgium to Italy:

11 August onwards

After a couple of days off to celebrate Jenny's birthday and to do some long awaited maintainance it was with a degree of trepedation we got back on the bikes, that and knowing we had a hell of a day ahead of us. The steep climb from Vielsalm felt like cycling through treacle, I couldn't belive that I had lost so much fitness in two days. After about 10km of climbing I had to pull into a service station for a rest, lathered in sweat and cursing my brand new mountainbike tyre on the back wheel for its extra drag. It was then I noticed that the rear brake was jammed on and I had just climbed a 500m hill with it almost full on and to add insult to injury the tyre was very low as well. With the brake off and tyre fully inflated I zoomed off like I had a rocket up my bum, to be greeted by about 200 audaxers (long distance cyclists) coming the other way, all waving and cheering.

A breakneck descent into the sleepy village of Diekirk saw us lay seige to the village cake shop. I think they thought we were refugees from a war zone the way we ate. We then headed along the Mosel cycle path, briefly crossing into Germany before arriving in the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg. After 120km of cycling (admitedly 110 without the brake on) we were very tired on our arrival in Grebbmacher.

My brother Mike was getting married to Lucy a week later in Cambridge and we had to get to Basel to catch a train to Venice to fly to Cambridge (don't ask - let's just say a long story involving a certain Geography teacher's inability to read a map properly) By this point we were getting very worried about making it to Basel in time for our train, so the days began to lengthe n. 120km saw us arrive in France in the mining region of Alsasce, a howling headwind meant we were crawling along for most of the day. I understand that the campsite was very pretty with a lake etc. but we were too tired to give it any notice.

The town of Wasserlone is 30km east of Strasbourg and was out next target a seemingly easy 90km way, that is if you forget the 600m pass on the way. We dragged our way up the hill in very humid conditions to have one of those dream descents straight to the door of the campsite. We had to get to Basel the next day, it was 150km away so it would be our longest day yet, if we got there. Luckily the road that ran straight there was fairly flat, but right from the start it looked bad. Jen had been battling with a recurring problem in her knee wich meant she was in complete agony when she put it under pressure, let alone cycling up 600m passes and 150km days. Very early in the day it began to ache horribly, at one point she was ready to call it a day and even began to doubt that she could make it. Full of anti-inflamatories the knee got a bit better, the pain more bearable.

The road was straight, very straight, extremely straight. For a hundred kilometres it made barely a waver. All the towns were set back from the road so there was nothing to break the monotony of the 'mile munching'. Teams of lycra clad cyclist zoomed passed,tucked down onto their triathlon handle bars to escape the inevitable headwind.

We finally arrived in Basel around 7pm shattered and very saddle sore. Finding a cheap hotel we had out first night indoors for weeks, needless to say that nightthere was no rain for the first time on the trip. There was no restraraunt in the hotel or local area so we emptied the vending machine and demolishedr the 'all you can eat' breakfast in the morning, Oh did we get value for money for that one...!

Into Basel the next day and parking the bikes in the very swanky bike park and dumping the luggage in left luggage we jumped on a sleeper for Venice. Arriving around 5am in Venice was to be one of the highlights of the trip for me, we had been before with a school group but this time we had St Marks Square to ourselves.

People who come to Venice complain of the crowds and the expense. An early start means that the place is nearly deserted and if you stand up at the counter in a coffee shop it only cost you 85c (50p). Perfect. We fell in love with Venice...again.