And then we came to the end.... of part one!

The first half of our trip came to a conclusion, fittingly, in Copenhagen, tied with Amsterdam where we started, as the bike capital of Europe, if not the world. The journey that led us there along the Berlin - Copenhagen Radweg 

seemed much faster than the rest of the trip, with every rotation of the wheels bringing us a step closer to home (sorry about the mixed transportation metaphor). The kids seldom complained, partly because they were excited to see friends and family, partly because by now they were used to the cycling and barely even felt the kilometres whizzing by.

We left Berlin along the Mauerweg, and stopped for lunch and a swim at a former West German holiday enclave, outside the borders of West Berlin but still permitted as a vacation haven for West Germans who had to go through complex permitting and border controls to enjoy a week-end away on the lake. Although the route was quite good (often along the peaceful Havel River),

we had to take a detour off the path to get to our campsite. We had the option of a long circuitous route, but we came to a road closed due to construction that would shorten the detour significantly, so after a conversation with the hard hat wearing crew they granted us access to our own private highway,

before cutting through a sandy forest track to finally reach our destination.

Going onwards the next day we travelled through fields of wildflowers

and on wooden boardwalks,

and continued to be grateful for the preferential treatment afforded cyclists in Germany - besides segregated paths everywhere there were roads similar to those in Holland which explicitly belonged to cyclists, though cars were allowed if they behaved themselves.

We slowed to a snail's pace to avoid hitting the tiny toads that popped out everywhere, making the route an obstacle course (more hazardous for the toads than us).

Though we didn't see many cyclists on the road, we met up with other families at the campsites. One evening we looked around for Tom who had disappeared from the playground, finding him at sitting on a picnic blanket outside of the tent of his newly adopted lego-owning family. 

Jacob and Kyra meanwhile played chess while spectators shouted suggestions for their next moves.

Continuing north we passed by towering pines

and castles, 

stayed in the towns Krakow and Schwann

and took swim breaks whenever we could.

The ubiquitous plums 

and blackberries continued to tempt us.

We cycled towards the sea with a Dutch family we met en route,

but while they headed to the ferry to Denmark, we decided to take a detour to the coastal town of Graal-Muritz. It was our least favourite campsite because of the unbelievably vicious mosquitoes - being from Canada with experience canoeing in Algonquin Park you'd think we would have experienced worse than anything Europe could throw at us, but these mosquitoes could have held their own against any of ours back home. We got more bites in one night than we had on the entire rest of our trip combined. We still managed to have fun swimming in the sea 

and dancing at a sunset beach party.

The ferry to Denmark the next morning transported us to another world. Rostock, Germany is a huge port packed with activity, and it felt amazing to be accorded equal status to the vans trucks and buses, cycling on dedicated lanes up to

and inside the ferry.

In contrast, Gedser, the town where we disembarked in Denmark, is a small and quiet, with Danish flags flying everywhere.

Leaving the bustling port in Rostock at the other side, we got off the ferry and were greeted by a lovely park with picnic tables and a chess board for the kids. We exulted that we were in biking mecca as we cycled amazing paths and quiet roads, 

and marvelled at how different everything felt from the rest of our trip - the houses seemed like masterpieces of modern architecture, the sea glittered in the sun, 

the windmills were cuter, even the hay bales were square instead of round.

Our campsite that night topped off the feeling we were in cycling heaven. It was right on the coast with few people around, so we could go for an early morning skinny dip in the ocean to wake up, 

but it was also equipped with a kitchen, playground, trampoline and soccer pitch.

Our amazing intial experience, as well as our preconceived notions about cycling in Denmark, led to a bit of disappointment when the cycling infrastructure the next day failed to be as comprehensive as we expected. It started out well on quiet scenic roads with a short ferry ride,

but when we reached the causeway to Mons Island we were forced to merge with high speed traffic on a narrow bridge along a laughably small shoulder.

Despite being part of the official cycling route, that stretch was probably the least safe road we had been on of the entire trip - it was so surprising to us that the Czech Republic at times had better infrastructure for cyclists than fabled Denmark.

Fortunately the path soon veered off onto quiet roads lined with pretty cottages and farmhouses a few km later. 

At any rate, the scenery of blazing fields of wheat 

and azure sea

more than made up for those few gaps in the cycling infrastructure, as did the delicious chocolate cake and homemade ice cream we ate while listening to Ella Fitzgerald crooning on vinyl at a beautifully laid out cafe catering to cyclists passing by.

Even more impressive were the chalk cliffs along the coast. First we came to Mons Klimt, where visitors came from around the world to see their towering white splendour.

We stayed for two nights at the campground (boasting tennis courts, a pool and a trampoline as well as a full kitchen) from where we could walk through the forest and down a lengthy staircase 

to hike over dunes 

and along the beach strewn with fossils from the Cretaceous period.

Back on the road we cycled by patches of wild rhubarb

and all manner of garage sales - from tiny tables along the road 

to full on flea markets in parking lots and fields, it seems the Danes love a good bargain (unsurprisingly since everything is so expensive!). Danish kids had all gone back to school in mid-August but summer persisted, so our truant children could continue to enjoy the sun and sea at sandy beaches.

The camping thus far had been great, but late one day we arrived at a campsite where the owner came out and sternly castigated us for leaning our bikes on the picnic tables out front only grudgingly saying he had room. We were really put off by his attitude so said we would find somewhere else to camp and set off again. Of course after our righteously indignant departure we checked the map and saw there wasn't another established campsite for another 30 km. Not wanting to do the ride of shame back to the grumpy campground owner's place we tried to decide what else to do. I remembered having seen a tent symbol next to the route at a site just 10 km away, though when Paul checked it on his phone it showed only a nature centre, with no camping available. We stopped to consider our options at the lighthouse at Stevens Klimt, where the kids could look out over the water through the free telescopes.

We decided to go and camp behind a bush at the centre if necessary, but when we arrived we discovered it was one of Denmark's "wild" campsites - free spots in nature reserves that are maintained, with water and toilets. Other campers were already there in one of the shelters, sitting around the fire pit and we chatted with them, marvelling at how beautiful this free site was.

We set up in a sheltered corner

and ate dinner under the moon.

We put our bikes and paniers under the observation tower, 

so they were protected from the massive rainstorm that happened that night. In the morning we climbed up for a last look over the cliffs

and then rode off in the pouring rain to Copenhagen.

Despite the grey weather we were all so excited to be completing this massive U shaped journey we'd done through Europe. We had a celebratory picnic (nutella and bread as usual) when we arrived on the outskirts of Copenhagen.

Compact urban planning meant that the built environment largely ended a mere 10 km from the city centre, so we were able to stay for free at another wild campsite in a nature reserve with horses 

and huge patches of wild blackberries,

with only the frequently passing airplanes to remind us that we were camped on the edge of a metropolis.

Our contact with the famed Copenhagen architecture began with a ride by 8 House, an award-winning mixed use development in the shape of a figure 8. Retail, office and housing spaces in the development are all connected by a cycle and walking promenade on the tenth floor, the rooftop is entirely covered in garden, and the back of the building opens out onto the water.

From the campsite we cycled along the waterfront

and over the harbour along the elevated Bicycle Snake bridge 

into the heart of Copenhagen. We stopped in the city only long enough to check in at the tourist office and have a snack from the bakery, then took off to do a small loop north of the city for a few days, deciding we would save our city exploration for the final three days before our flight.

Our explorations of Zeeland took us first to Hillerod, where we intended to stop for only one night, but thanks to the best campground of our entire trip we decided to stay for two. The hosts were so friendly, the kitchen was amazing, the obligatory trampoline was present along with a fussball table,

and it even had a quiet dining room for campers with candles and flowers.

We easily passed the extra day with a visit to Frederiksborg Castle, the immense royal residence built for King Christian IV, now a museum about the history of the Danish monarchy. 

We wandered through the Renaissance interior 

and the manicured grounds 

before heading back to relax at the campground - not as luxurious as the castle but to us it wasn't far behind!

Departing late from Hillerod due to a tremendous rainstorm that lasted two hours, we headed to Helsingor, home of Kronborg, the castle on which Hamlet's Elsinore castle was based (despite Shakespeare purportedly never having visited it). We walked around the perimeter of the castle 

but spent most of our time instead at the Danish Maritime Museum, another innovative architectural gem reached by walking down a long ramp,

and filled with light 

despite its below sea level location in the former ship repair yard - a prime imperative for its design was that it not block the view of Kronborg castle so the architects were forced to build down not up.

We finished off our tour of the region with a visit to the incredible Louisiana Museum of Modern Art, with a stunning indoor space showing off Giacometti sculptures,

a great exhibit on Africa and an extensive children's section where the kids happily made paintings and constructed sculptures.

It felt as if we were coming full circle, since like the Dutch Kroller Mueller museum we visited early in our trip, the Louisiana was light filled, built in a natural setting, and endowed with a terrific outdoor sculpture garden - there was even a Dubuffet sculpture 

similar to the giant mushroom the kids had walked on in Holland.

The cycling was great. To get out of Copenhagen we'd taken a 20 km superhighway built for cycle commuters, with bicycle pumps installed along the route in case of flat tires. More relaxed was the cycling on gravel through fields,

or on paths lined with lavender,

finishing by riding along the sea back to Copenhagen. 

We went through a small rainburst and were rewarded with a beautifully intense rainbow and a faint sister arc alongside.

Our very last night as touring cyclists was at another free "wild" campsite in Niva. We went for an after dinner walk along the sea and reflected on our long journey as the moon reflected on the water. 

There were a few large school groups at the campsite, whose musician dads stayed up late singing and playing the guitar which soothed us to sleep, although the shrieks of the kids after their parents went to bed weren't as lyrical. There were also many large slugs like the ones we'd encountered (and inadvertently smushed) along much of our European route. Though not, um, conventionally beautiful they were still constant companions on the path so we have a soft spot for them.

After all that riding we stopped for good in Copenhagen. It is a modern city, though of course with its share of historic buildings

and churches.

Colourful multi-storey apartments face the canals large and small,

some feeling exactly like those of Amsterdam.

More vibrant hues decorate buildings through the commune Christiania - a free and autonomous society that arose somewhat organically in the 60's. It's an interesting social experiment that seems to be generally working for its residents, despite the pressures on the area due to its location on prime Copenhagen real estate.

Sculptures and graphic art decorated most of the main buildings, including an indoor and outdoor skateboard park 

and we came upon stalls openly selling hashish that made us improvise a little extra curricular anti drug education for the kids. After exploring a little Jacob was happy to leave because he said the smell was giving him a headache, and the area was less than glamorous, so I think it was a helpful lesson!

The weather had turned but we were determined to jump into the sea in the middle of the city at Islands Brygge. As we cycled up to the area of the harbour where a pool of sea water has been corralled into a lifeguard attended swimming area, the heavens opened and buckets of rain poured down. I was ready to give up on the idea of swimming but Jacob remained undeterred, so after the rain stopped we took off our rain jackets and put on our suits, and went for a dive in the very chilly waters, only discovering the jellyfish lurking in the corners after we got out.

The best was the plunge from the pirate ship into the water - a super high jump that the kids 

and Paul made look easy 

but when it was my turn I screamed all the way down.

We warmed up at a cool warehouse called Paper Island that sold a huge variety of street food to be eaten on long wooden tables. 

We stayed inside because of the rain but on a sunny day it would be lovely to eat on the harbour with a view of the Opera House next door.

As expected, cycling through the city was a joy, with great lanes whizzing us through neighbourhoods

and through the varied architectural landscape of the city, including the engineering marvel of the moveable circle bridge that had been dropped piece by piece into place in the harbour like a giant 3D puzzle.

The pace was fast and the other cyclists were serious about their commute, so we had to move quickly whenever we were on the main routes.

We loved our bikes and they performed well most of the time (with a few minor glitches - see next blog entry) but with exorbitant shipping costs we decided to leave two bikes sadly behind. Friendly Selena who saw our post online bought Jacob's bike for use while in Copenhagen as a student,

and the weehoo went to the only bike store in town who would take the tandem attachment. 

Though much loved by us it was way too unconventional for the Danes. We were sad to bid it adieu!

Most unexpected was how much we were welcomed and made to feel at home our last three nights. We had planned to camp and then stay in a hotel near the airport, expecting to be all on our own, but Leonardo and Isabella, good friends of Paul's sister Kate and her husband Wim, had offered to put us up for three nights, an offer we quickly accepted. They gave us a massive bedroom for us all, and we shared dinners, breakfast and chats in the kitchen together. 

The kids became fast friends and put all the mattresses in the living room one night for a giant sleepover party. 

Then on our final night we had dinner with my longtime friend Caron, who had planned a last minute trip to Copenhagen to see her sister Colleen and nieces that happily coincided with our time. Colleen hosted us for a delicious dinner 

(not sure why I gave the paper towels the greatest prominence in this picture) topped off with a chorus by the table as she and Caron presented me with delicious brownies topped with a candle in honour of my birthday.

With a breakfast all together back at our hosts' place in the morning, Isabella making sure we were equipped for lunch, and Leonardo helping us pack the remaining bikes into the taxi,

it felt like we were leaving family. Such an amazing way to end our journey, and one that encapsulated all the generosity and warmth we have received from people who were previously strangers but took us in and became friends. 

We'd gotten addicted to the homemade Danish pop tarts so that was our final treat from the airport bakery,

and we drank from glasses that seemed custom made for us.

As we waited at the airport it seemed hard to believe five and a half months had gone by.

We were excited to be coming home, but a little sorry to be ending such a momentous journey (at least Paul and I were!). Over the past 4000 km we had plenty of ups and downs, and we weren't always at our best (especially me), but spending that kind of time together was a tremendous gift, and we will draw on the strength we built up, both physical and mental, to carry us through the next and final months of our year long adventure.

First we take the Elbe, then we take Berlin

The Elbe is a thousand km long river running through the Czech Republic all the way up to the German North Sea coast. We followed its course for a few days after leaving Melnik and Prague. Unlike the greenway between Prague and Vienna which is relatively undeveloped, the Elbe is a very popular cycling route with great camping and cycling infrastructure.

The paths were lined with the now familiar plum and apple trees, and fields of a sweetish smelling crop that had just been harvested.

Jacob thought they were poppy fields but Paul wondered whether it was rapeseed - they had a particularly rich aroma that we've only noticed in Europe but it's hard to describe a smell to people so as of now we haven't diagnosed the source!

We never seem to have enough time to fully explore the towns we pass, spotting castles on hills from afar,

but seldom going in. We did stop to wander through the Terezin memorial site. It had a long history dating back to the late 1700s, used as a military barracks. Before WWI, it was put to use as a political prison camp (one of whose inmates was the assassin of Franz Ferdinand of Austria, an event that served to fuel the conflagration). During WWII, it was commandeered by the Nazis for use as a huge concentration camp, and post-war it was used to confine and torture ethnic German prisoners. After a long history of brutality towards its inmates of every period, the centre was finally converted into a museum and memorial to the thousands of Jews and others who died of starvation and illness brought about by lack of nourishment, inhumanely crowded conditions and merciless hard labour.

Terezin is on the outskirts of Litomerice, with three campsites in the vicinity, the furthest of which we decided to camp in despite the kids exhortations to stop at the first one we passed. Wanting to press on to lessen our distance for the next day Paul and I kept going, only to discover, 10 km later, that our intended site was not where it was supposed to be. This by now familiar scenario usually ends with some combination of us losing it and throwing a tantrum, but we were interrupted before tempers reached a crisis point by the arrival on our path of Patrick, a long distance touring cyclist who had already cycled 120 km that day so was ready to stop but similarly flummoxed as to where. He was happy to stumble along with us for the company, and was such a easygoing and nice guy that it lifted the rest of our spirits to cycle with him, turning misadventure into an fun detective hunt, which ultimately did result in a lovely and very cheap campground on a quiet lake.

The next morning we loaded up our bikes

and headed off in our separate directions - he was going on to Prague - and we tried to learn from the experience that it's not the (minor) adversity that we face on this trip that's the problem, it's how we react that really affects how we experience life (still working on absorbing that lesson though...).

Further along the Elbe we travelled alongside rail tracks over which trains boomed as they passed by, 

as well as quieter river banks. Travelling near water so much of the time means we are getting to see bridges of all sorts of interesting shapes and sizes.

Our last night in Czech we camped in a tiny town called Nebocady, with an ice cold pool that felt great after a hot day of cycling.

The transition from Czech Republic to Germany was so smooth it was hard to tell which country we were in - both had bilingual signs for a few km on either side - so we had to bid adieu to after we were already in Germany. In Bad Schandau the scenery began to change from relatively flat topography to steep cliffs 

that soon towered above us.

Out of great ignorance I had pictured East German towns to consist of grey blocks of bleak Soviet style postwar construction, but the reality couldn't be farther from the truth. The city that surprised me the most was Dresden. We camped just outside it, in the beautiful leafy green suburb of Zschieren, taking the tram into the city centre. From the moment we stepped off the tram I was in love.

I found the centre so beautiful, 

the buildings so magnificent, 

and everything of such a grand scale. 

The imposing statues 

(here's looking at you kid) 

and elaborately painted walls looked ancient 

but most of the centre has only been reconstructed in the past 20 years. Some criticize it as a Las Vegas style reconstruction but I still found it spectactular!

We weren't the only ones to visit Dresden, and there was a restaurant strip full of tourist traps - an "authentic Canadian steakhouse" with "Ontario Restaurant" emblazoned in neon on the front, as well as the "Ayers Rock" restaurant for Australian cuisine. 

We skipped the main strip, stopping instead for crackers and cheese on a bench in a tree filled courtyard,

then exploring the cobbled streets while playing a little soccer,

and later getting a bite at a small Turkish shop in the more modern part of the city - with Germany now having the largest population of Turkish people outside of Turkey it didn't feel too bizarre to eat doners and pide in such a setting.

After Dresden we continued along the Elbe until Wittenberg, stopping en route at more terrific campsites, one with a public pool complex that officially closed for the night at 7 pm but that campers were free to use at any time. Before we left in the morning the kids enjoyed their private pool with the kids of another cycling family we had bonded with the evening before. 

We enjoyed trailside amenities like wild blackberries 

and had a refreshing rest stop at the office of the water company, where a permanent outdoor stand promised "not a day without water", dispensing both still and bubbly versions from bar taps.

Leaving the populous paths of the Elbe we headed north along quiet roads 

where we felt as if we saw more hay people than real people,

and our campsite in Raben was deserted.

That changed once we hit Potsdam, where people came from Berlin to escape the heat of the city and swim in the lakes. We didn't love the busy campground but the paths and the summer palace of Frederick the Great in Potsdam more than made up for it (below is just the garden house).

It was a mere 30 km from Potsdam to Berlin, and we cycled along the Mauerweg - the Wall Way, a great forested path that followed the route of the Berlin Wall. 

It was a good way to illustrate to the kids (and ourselves) the placement of a slice of West Germany in the middle of the East.

We were happy to stop in Berlin, with its many great parks, this one miles long and filled with ping tables, skateboard parks, beach volleyball and more.

The weather was hot and sunny

and we were glad to stay for five nights, a time for us to rest after the 500 km since Prague and to prepare for our final push to Copenhagen. Katarina, a couchsurfer, opened her home to us for three nights and took us to a delicious ice cream place in her trendy neighbourhood of Mitte. Her apartment sat where East Berlin met West, and we went to the exhibits around the corner about Bernauer Strasse, the street whose front door opened onto East Berlin, but whose back windows opened onto the West, facilitating many escapes before the windows were bricked up and the buildings eventually demolished. The kids were fascinated by the photos, like the one of a man smoking a cigarette on the way down from his jump, and the stories of the residents like the woman who jumped when she heavily pregnant, giving birth shortly after in the safety of West Berlin.  

Less educational but as fun for the kids was the trip to Legoland, located in the futuristic open air mall, Potsdamer Platz. 

Katarina suggested we go as an outing with her daughter and the kids were happy to oblige and spent a couple of hours running amok.

I enjoyed chatting with Katarina and seeing the lego model of Berlin complete with a mini music concert and replica of the permanent hot air balloon taking tourists to the skies above Berlin.

After three nights at Katharina's place we rented an apartment in the Schoenberg district of Berlin. 

We spent most of our time in the city just walking and cycling around Berlin, past the Victory Statue,

and the Berliner Dom

through the Bundestag (German Parliament), including the fully renovated Reichstag building,

and the Gendarmenmarkt square, great for soccer,

pausing outside the Berlin Collegium Hungaricum - I liked Robert Gragger's yellow man sculpture in the background.

The most fun for Kyra was the sleepover she had with one of her best friends, Nicole, whose dad Asmus has family in Germany that they regularly visit. Her mom Sandra and I had coordinated electronically to make sure we'd be in Berlin at the same time. Kyra had the time of her life reuniting with Nicole, and we all met up at Nicole's aunt Silke's marble floored apartment to eat Speculoos cookies and sip on exquisite Earl Grey, provided by her tea sommelier neighbour. We shared stories of our travels and got some tips from Silke's son's recent bike trip to Copenhagen, then heard of Silke's amazing job promoting a crowdsourced online map for wheelchair accessible places around the world - look for it soon on Google.

We spent our last day in Berlin cycling in the Tiergarten,

to a little cafe for beer and panini and a walk in the flower garden,

and our last evening watching a short light and sound show including a film, projected across the Spree river onto the architectural splendor of the German Chancellory building (locally nicknamed the federal washing machine because of its controversial design).

Listening to the brief history of the Bundestag building, then cycling home through the lit up streets was a great way to end our time in this dynamic city.