clairedavieswriter

I hardly think so: I don’t think my cortisol levels have been this high since I discovered my son still in his pyjamas half an hour before his Physics A Level. But I’ll come to that in a moment (the train journey, not the almost- missed A Level).

Once I’d packed all of this:

Into this:

It was time for the petit départ – a short ride to the station:

And what would turn out to be my least stressful train journey for a while: the short hop to London

The location of Eurostar’s bike drop-off area is a closely guarded secret, assisted by an impenetrable map and a total absence of signage. But Team Bernard was equal to the challenge and tracked it down in the bowels of St Pancras:

I boarded the Eurostar on Sunday, reassured by the lady at the information desk that Bernard had been loaded already. I assumed my AirTag would confirm this as soon as we set off. So after half an hour this was a concerning sight (I’m the blue dot, and the train was definitely not that long):

It goes without saying that the lack of a bike would have complicated my plans somewhat. I galloped up the train in search of the manager (though what he could have done about it was unclear). To my infinite relief he assured me, in a manner that was both sympathetic and suggested that I was a ridiculous fusspot, that Bernard was indeed on the train. By the time I got back to my seat Aaron the AirTag was innocently inspecting his fingernails as though I’d made the whole thing up:

Unfortunately that wasn’t the end of my train-based tribulations. After a lovely catch up with friends in Brussels (great to see you, Nikki and Martin!), I was greeted by this news over breakfast this morning:

Further enquiry revealed this positively gnomic explanation:

This was less than ideal, as I had connections to make in both Köln and Hamburg. For a few short and very stressful moments, I thought it was going to be impossible to reach my destination, but en route to the station a much calmer Nikki came up with a workable suggestion. Better still, I discovered that due to a ‘Fahrradkarte special offer’, a new ticket for the 8 hour journey from Köln to Klanxbüll would cost only €14.99 (instead of the usual €167!). My new plan would get me to my destination only an hour later than planned, and it allowed time in Brussels for me to fit Bernard’s front forks:

Finally, it was time to board for the journey to Köln:

Bernard spent the journey in the company of a charming Dawes Galaxy, whose equally charming British owner helped me get Bernard up the train steps (because obviously there were steps) and hang him comfortably on the hook:

Köln had a fine station:

With an even finer view of the Dom:

Once more, there were steep steps into the train, but as they say in the cult film Top Secret, ‘I know a little German (… here he is)’ and I used some to ask a well-built gentleman, Kannst du mir helfen? He was most obliging. For readers of my book (or listeners to the recent Steppes Travel webinar), the US Ambassador would have approved. Bernard had a variety of companions on this leg, but his German is no better than mine, so I’m not sure he made any new friends.

A 40 minute changeover in Hamburg allowed enough time to buy supper. Options included KFC, McDs, and an Indian, but I plumped for a hot halloumi wrap from these friendly fellows

I boarded my last train – a two-carriage workhorse – that would carry me the two hours to my final destination (that’s the Danish border in pink):

But this journey wasn’t done with me yet. Our departure was delayed, and for a while looked uncertain, because the doors in the last carriage (also where Bernard was) wouldn’t close:

But finally after much effort full heaving by Braces Man (aka the driver) and his hi-viz sidekick (the cleaner) we were on our way, racing north through terrain that, as my mind turned to tomorrow’s cycling, looked reassuringly flat:

Barring further disasters, and assuming I can get Bernard off the train (the dodgy door is now not opening, so I’ll have to somehow get him down the aisle between the seats to the next door), Team Bernard should reach our accommodation around 10.30pm, about 13.5 hours after we left Nikki’s. Suffice to say, I’ll be glad to get back on two wheels tomorrow.

If you’ve kept reading to the end, thanks for sharing my travel woes, and bis morgen!

Postscript: we made it!