Our first few days in Romania have proven to be incredibly eye-opening. After crossing the border from Hungary into Romania, the differences were immediate and startling – new money and a new language of course, we’ve gotten used to that by now. What really surprised us was how outwardly friendly everyone is here. As we ride through little villages and towns, we are cheered on by nearly everyone that we ride past. Our days are full of waves, high-fives, and smiles.  

Perhaps the Romanian people are simply Europe’s friendliest citizens, or perhaps they recognize that when they see riders, they realize what a daunting task it is to cycle through their mountainous country. We’ve endured some intense climbs, some nasty weather, numerous flat tires, and a few bad falls. These hurdles, however, appear miniscule in comparison to those that await us in the next few days. Luckily, we have the Romanian people as our cheerleaders.  

The Carpathian Mountains may not be the Himalayas but nonetheless they present formidable obstacles to even the most experienced cyclist. Our group of daring riders will soon conquer the high peaks of the Transylvanian Alps by carefully navigating the hairpin turns, steep ascents, and sharp descents, while simultaneously striving to maintain a safe distance from the cyclists’ most dangerous obstacle, our most feared predator -- the automobile.  

For now, we’re in the city of Alba Iulia greasing up our gears for the upcoming train d’enfer. It’s now time to tighten our brakes, check the tread on our tires, practice yoga, and to say our prayers, because the next five cycling days that lead us to Bucharest will surely test our endurance and determination as we run the gauntlet.

- Josh Jones

Not all our Tour riders are incredibly quick.  Not speaking of their mental sharpness of course, but of their cycling speed.  Naturally there are many good reasons to not cycle quickly; enjoying the scenery, eating berries by the road, taking pictures of wild turkeys, climbing a tree, swimming in a creek, napping under a log, playing with the street dogs, standing around feeling cool in spandex, speaking with a tractor driver… A few cyclists though jettison out into the cool early mornings with speed on their minds.  In the case of the Orient Express this year that would be Mark Peters and Adam Birkin.    Their lust for speed and the unquenchable thirst they have for pushing themselves physically has led them to not only surpass, but to positively shatter the previous recorded fastest times on this Tour.  Sure, you might ask “but I thought the Orient Express wasn’t a race?” and of course you would be utterly correct, there is no race element and we don’t actually record anyone’s time for the day.  O.K., so we’re really just making a bold statement without any facts to back it up, but let it be.  We’re pretty sure that they are very fast and deserve some kind of accolades. 

  Adam, a photojournalist, at times cycles over 40km/per hour, and still manages to snap amazing shots of the roadside attractions.  Mark, a German, also cycles over 40km/per hour, and on his hand held computer connects to myriad wifi zones along the route, allowing him to solve, in real time, problems related to his occupation.  This is the kind of cycling and life spirit which makes all of us on the Orient Express a fortunate bunch.

  Luckily, there is one place where there is no rush for any of our cyclists; and that is camp.  Once arriving the leisure begins.  At times there are certain duties involved with maintaining ones’ cycle, but for the most part, with bliss and deserved euphoria, as if stuck in the most pleasant molasses, people slow down to the quietest pace, moving about the camp with dream-like smiles. 

  The jack-rabbits though are ready to pounce, waiting for the next mornings’ ride, preparing to unleash their lust for speed.

This was my third time guiding a group of cyclist between Paris and Istanbul, and this was a finish to remember. In years past we have convoyed the last 23 km down the Bosphorus into Ortakoy. Istanbul and its suburbs were not designed with cyclists in mind. But this year we arrived in style.

The final stage of the tour was a 52 km ride through the lush rolling hills of Turkey. We collected all 41 riders and staff where the hills descended to meet the sea. As each rider rolled across the finish line there were hugs, tears, and photos to commemorate this monumental achievement. Over the last 50 days these two wheeled adventurers traversed 4000 km across eight European countries. When all were present and after quick feed we boarded our fine vessel, the Naim Baba, and sailed into this spectacular international metropolis. While battling traffic its much more difficult to appreciate the magnificence of the waterfront. But this year we were kick’in it on the upper deck of our private boat embracing our cycling comrades with drinks in hand. The voyage lead us past castles, mosques and affluent real estate of the world’s rich and famous. From our dock in Ortakoy it was only a 2 min walk through the pedestrian mall to our hotel to unpack all the gear for one final time. With a group of fifty checking in and parking bikes simultaneously is chaotic, but the madness was short-lived.

Our final banquet dinner was in Taksim at a bizarre restaurant garden, overgrown with lemon trees. The evening was filled with a fabulous feast, speeches and a slide show to reminisce on this epic journey, truly a grand finale.

Many of the participants are staying in Istanbul for several days to explore the history and culture of this city which has been the capital of several empires. Others had a rushed departure, but a select few will continue to peddle east all the way to Beijing and I wish them nothing but sunshine and tailwinds. The conclusion of these tours invokes a contradiction of emotions; pride, for a monumental personal achievement and sorrow to say goodbye to new friends who we’ve shared the moments with. I look forward to the next time our paths will cross.

Til then, keep the rubber side down.

This was my third time guiding a group of cyclist between Paris and Istanbul, and this was a finish to remember. In years past we have convoyed the last 23 km down the Bosphorus into Ortakoy. Istanbul and its suburbs were not designed with cyclists in mind. But this year we arrived in style. The final stage of the tour was a 52 km ride through the lush rolling hills of Turkey. We collected all 41 riders and staff where the hills descended to meet the sea. As each rider rolled across the finish line there were hugs, tears, and photos to commemorate this monumental achievement. Over the last 50 days these two wheeled adventurers traversed 4000 km across eight European countries. When all were present and after quick feed we boarded our fine vessel, the Naim Baba, and sailed into this spectacular international metropolis. While battling traffic its much more difficult to appreciate the magnificence of the waterfront. But this year we were kick’in it on the upper deck of our private boat embracing our cycling comrades with drinks in hand. The voyage lead us past castles, mosques and affluent real estate of the world’s rich and famous. From our dock in Ortakoy it was only a 2 min walk through the pedestrian mall to our hotel to unpack all the gear for one final time. With a group of fifty checking in and parking bikes simultaneously is chaotic, but the madness was short-lived. Our final banquet dinner was in Taksim at a bizarre restaurant garden, overgrown with lemon trees. The evening was filled with a fabulous feast, speeches and a slide show to reminisce on this epic journey, truly a grand finale. Many of the participants are staying in Istanbul for several days to explore the history and culture of this city which has been the capital of several empires. Others had a rushed departure, but a select few will continue to peddle east all the way to Beijing and I wish them nothing but sunshine and tailwinds. The conclusion of these tours invokes a contradiction of emotions; pride, for a monumental personal achievement and sorrow to say goodbye to new friends who we’ve shared the moments with. I look forward to the next time our paths will cross. Til then, keep the rubber side down.

Apres avoir chante dernierement les louanges de l Allemagne et de l Autriche, je vais essayer de vous rendre compte de la situation cycliste dans les ex pays de l Est. En quittant Vienne, nous sommes brievement passes en Slovaquie, pour arriver en Hongrie. Ce pays est en pleine reconstruction et il agreable de voir que les pistes cyclables sont aménagées en même temps que les routes sont refaites. En Roumanie la situation est bien différente, la voiture est reine. Les cyclistes doivent faire preuve d’une vigilance accrue en ville et sur les grandes routes. Il en est de même en Bulgarie. Mais la situation devrait changer rapidement, le coût du carburant ne cesse d’augmenter, le nombre trajets non-impératifs va sûrement diminuer et le vélo va devenir un mode de locomotion économique (ce qui semble déjà être le cas en campagne). Le porte-monnaie devient le meilleur soutien de l’écologie… dommage que ce soit les bas-salaires qui soient contraint à y contribuer.
Remarque : en attendant l’administration américaine repousse sine die toutes décisions concernant les gaz à effets de serre… dans les pays riches, l’écologie peut attendre.”

- Olivier Thudor

Apres avoir chante dernierement les louanges de l Allemagne et de l Autriche, je vais essayer de vous rendre compte de la situation cycliste dans les ex pays de l Est. En quittant Vienne, nous sommes brievement passes en Slovaquie, pour arriver en Hongrie. Ce pays est en pleine reconstruction et il agreable de voir que les pistes cyclables sont aménagées en même temps que les routes sont refaites. En Roumanie la situation est bien différente, la voiture est reine. Les cyclistes doivent faire preuve d’une vigilance accrue en ville et sur les grandes routes. Il en est de même en Bulgarie. Mais la situation devrait changer rapidement, le coût du carburant ne cesse d’augmenter, le nombre trajets non-impératifs va sûrement diminuer et le vélo va devenir un mode de locomotion économique (ce qui semble déjà être le cas en campagne). Le porte-monnaie devient le meilleur soutien de l’écologie… dommage que ce soit les bas-salaires qui soient contraint à y contribuer. Remarque : en attendant l’administration américaine repousse sine die toutes décisions concernant les gaz à effets de serre… dans les pays riches, l’écologie peut attendre." - Olivier Thudor

With less than a week to go, we feel certain that the 40 intrepid cyclists due to arrive in Paris for the start of the 4th annual Orient Express Bicycle Expedition will be comforted to know that logistics are well underway. Over the past few days, highly effective staff meetings have resulted in top notch planning and intricate "To Do" lists... all from the burly ambiance of our new office on the outskirts of Bratislava - the Loli Bar. It's been challenging... but someone has to do it! Trawling the consumer palaces of fast-developing Bratislava for provisions for the expedition has been a hunter/gather experience of note. For those of us who don't shop regularly in Slovakia, the battle of the brands takes on a whole new dimension. Identifying items in emporiums the size of soccer stadiums offering row upon row of unfamiliar products bearing unpronounceable names, has been time and energy consuming to say the least, especially with so much more to be planned and discussed back in the office! In between the planning and the doing, which is just about all done, we did manage to escape the ubiquitous, brash, western style development mushrooming on the outskirts of the city and explore the gentle pedestrian squares, gorgeous gothic architecture, comfort food and subtly sexy city life of old, real, downtown Bratislava. It is magical. And by the time we return towards the end of June, it will be pulsating with festival life and folklore dancing. Today, with all the vehicles checked and packed, we say 'dakujem' and 'goodbye' to Monika, our fabulous guide and translator, and head west for Paris to meet the OE 2008 riders... being sure, of course, to keep our eyes peeled for suitable new offices at strategic points along the way!

The 4,000km Orient Express Bicycle Tour 2006, which started two months ago in Paris has come to a successful end. Another year has come to a wonderful finish in the wonderful city of Istanbul and a certain level of satisfaction is setting in. Our group was almost twice as big as it was last year and the contrasts don't end there. I really believe every part of the trip improved from the previous year and we are excited to see it continue to improve in year 3, year 4, and year 20. There's nothing else like the Orient Express Bicycle Tour, and there's something unique and special about every year and every group of riders that take part...

I returned home yesterday to Toronto and by all accounts this year’s tour was a giant success. We faced many challenges; the weather, the roads, the construction, the flooding, the traffic, the direction, but in fact one of the toughest days of the whole tour turned out to be the very last day into Istanbul. It was a day that began with lasts. Last campsite breakfast. Last time we rolled up our tents. Last rider meeting. Last lunch stop, and the last push to the finish. But on the other side it was also to be a day of firsts. First chance to explore the wonderful ancient and vibrant city of Istanbul. First time the Orient Express Bicycle Tour crosses Europe. First chance to reflect on the last 55 days. And, as it turned out, the first time one of our convoys into a city took FOUR HOURS. The morning began at our picturesque campsite situated on a gently sloping hillside outside the village of Tayakadin. It was a perfectly groomed patch of soft grass thanks to the sheep that grazed nearby. The distance on the day was roughly 70 kms. The first 30kms to Gokturk everyone did at their own speed, and we waited there for our police escort to arrive. We waited for almost two hours and finally decided that we would have to get ourselves into the citywithout the police. So I gave a final briefing to the riders, and we set out. We got just a few kilometres up the road when we came across the police. We went over the directions with them a few times and then began our slow steady journey into Istanbul. The first 20 kms of the escort went smoothly from Gokturk straight across to the Bosphorus. As soon as we turned right to follow the Bosphorus to the Pera Palas the traffic got much busier, and because of jurisdiction rules in and around Istanbul our police escort would change hands every couple kilometres, which helped to slow down the process even more, and at one point we lost the escort altogether, as one police car left before the replacement had arrive. At this point though everything was generally going to plan. But within 5 kilometres of our hotel the police escort decided to take us on an alternate route that he thought would help to avoid some of the traffic congestion. What he didn’t take into account was that his alternate route would take us on the steepest city streets I have ever seen in my life. Some were reasonably well-paved while others were rough cobble stone. We struggled to keep the pace and keep the whole group together while the police car continued on not realizing the hellish route he had taken us on. The group began to split into two as some of us had to walk both the uphills and the downhills as the grade of the hills quite extreme. Then those who were able to ride the hills tried to keep pace with the police car and the group began to stretch across the narrow inner streets of Istanbul. Seeing this I used the last of the energy to ride up the next hill and down the other side to catch the faster group. I told them to wait there as I retraced my steps to guide the back of the group forward to meet them. Again back together we continued on other hilly backwards path to the hotel. We were exhausted and frustrated and extremely anxious to see our hotel and reap the rewards of having traveled all across Europe by bike. We finally arrived almost 4 hours after leaving Gokturk. The pent up anticipation of the finish combined with the frustrations of the day made for an exciting finish in the end. The champagne bottles were opened, cheers rang out as Henry soaked some of us in champagne. It was possibly the toughest day of the tour, but its one we will all remember for some time. And one that will come up many times in conversations in the months and years to come.