Restless Pedals

Nomadic Tales My perception of small countries is that the chances of finding a secluded spot to pitch a tent without being seen are very low. The land tends to be expensive and fully utilized, and I imagined that landowners wouldn’t appreciate tents on property they’ve paid dearly for. I resisted the temptation to try even a single night of wild camping in Switzerland, fearing a hefty fine. However, I did camp in Luxembourg, not one, but two nights. In Kehl, Germany, just across the river from Strasbourg, I managed one night of wild camping, but it was far from comfortable. Two men walking in the distance kept watching me for about half an hour. Despite my green tent blending into the grassy ground with a forested backdrop, and being 400 meters from the road, they appeared suspicious, stepping left and right, perhaps trying to get a better view. Since wild camping is generally frowned upon in Germany, I usually avoid it, but I wanted to try anyway. I had spent a full week near ...

Nomadic Tales There are several apps for travelers that point out places to sleep, including camping spots with reviews. When I tried using them, I noticed that some of the suggested locations were hard to reach with a fully loaded bike. And even when a place looked promising in the app, things on the ground could be very different, likely due to factors like the season or weather. One example was a spot in Bulgaria where the pin was placed right in the middle of a lake, about 20 meters from the shore. The access road was a trail through the forest, sometimes overgrown with thickets, other times just sandy soil that made progress slow and exhausting. Another example, also in Bulgaria, was a campsite pin conveniently placed in the city center of Kazanlak. In reality, it turned out to be an administrative building with a lawn, but fenced, locked, and completely deserted when I arrived. I suspect the person who added the pin had been allowed a one-time overnight stay. Out of...

Nomadic Tales As I look back through my photos and notes from Portugal, I’m struck by how few there are. The sparse documentation owes itself largely to the sensory overload I experienced during the seven intense weeks in Morocco. After the vibrant chaos and saturated colors there, the serene whitewashed towns of Portugal felt almost muted by contrast. I still remember the wave of disappointment that hit me as I crossed the Strait of Gibraltar, finding little that captivated me for days. It felt like a kind of withdrawal, and for nearly a month I struggled to stay motivated, with only a few places managing to reignite my curiosity: Cádiz and El Puerto de Santa María - Both towns are deeply connected to the life and voyages of Christopher Columbus. Cádiz, in particular, has a park filled with South American plant species, including towering sequoias that some claim were brought back by Columbus himself. The city also impresses with an abundance of ornately decorated metal...

Nomadic Tales As a popular destination for international travelers, Morocco sees a constant influx of visitors, which also means ample opportunity for hustlers to refine their craft. Nowhere is this more apparent than in Fez, the ancient walled city, where waves of unsuspecting tourists meet a parallel tide of clever scammers. To be clear, the vast majority of Moroccans are warm, honest, and hospitable. However, the medina’s 9,000 narrow alleys offer a perfect hunting ground for the more opportunistic among the city’s million residents. One of the most profitable cons involves the so-called “faux guide.” These individuals offer to “take you to the medina”, even though you’re already deep inside it. Their real aim is to lead you to overpriced shops and restaurants that offer them a cut, while taking you as quickly as possible outside of medina, where a small gang appears suddenly to mob and intimidate you into paying for their “services”. A common tactic is the classic bai...

Nomadic Tales Vatopedi, a small village in northern Greece, is overshadowed in Google searches by the well-known Vatopedi Monastery on Mount Athos. Yet several stories from my trip are tied to this quiet and unassuming village, known perhaps only for its olive groves. While in Ierissos, I bought olives at the market, which I ate after leaving town. The olives were so good that I was tempted to go back, if it hadn’t been for the tedious climb on a dirt road that I dreaded repeating. So, I kept going, constantly kicking myself for not having bought more. The next day, about 3 km before Vatopedi, near the gate of a factory, a broad-faced, muscular dog took a liking to me. He came toward me like an arrow, with an almost imperceptible tail wag and a locked gaze. It was an uneasy encounter at first, seeing the dog rear up on two legs to greet me with his front paws, leaving me guessing about his true intentions. But he turned out to be extremely friendly, so much so that he sta...

Nomadic Tales A big part of the thrill of wild camping is the daily adventure of finding a new place to sleep. The more unusual the spot, the better. That said, I don’t push it to the extreme because I do appreciate a good night’s rest. For example, while the idea of stealth camping inside a roundabout sounds fun in theory, but the prospect of a sleepless night due to traffic noise quickly puts me off. That said, I was seriously tempted once when I stumbled upon an abandoned structure right in the middle of a roundabout. It looked like a symbolic gate to a large property near a hospital. I gave up because thick overgrown bushes made it impractical. One of my oddest camping experiences was on the terrace of a defunct restaurant in Montenegro, overlooking Liqeni i Shasit lake. What made it especially awkward was the lively new Shasi restaurant operating just below the terrace. The parking lot was packed with cars, and the constant murmur of diners painted a vivid picture o...