If you’re looking for a wee escape from life’s non-stop challenges, try the Outer Hebrides off the west coast of Scotland. It’ll take some effort to get there, but it’ll be worth while.
The reasons for making the trip are varied and numerous. First, the 5 ½ ferry ride from Oban on the mainland to Lochboisdale in South Uist passes by some spectacular islands (Mull, Eigg and Rhum among them), leaving you with a distinct feeling that you’re leaving civilization behind. Next, the two Uists – south and north plus neighbouring islands – are not just gloriously remote but remarkably beautiful in a wild, moor-like way. Then there are the people who seem to possess a droll sense of humour about almost everything, especially the “mainland” which is held in some contempt. You’ll also get introduced to island politics with locals praising their region while disparaging – with wit – other islands in the area.
My wife and I do our traveling by bike. Touring the Outer Hebrides by bike isn’t for everyone, given the frequent gloom and rain. However, there’s not a dull kilometre anywhere. Moreover, if enjoying some wild and vacant area that looks like it hasn’t changed in a couple of million years works for you, then these islands should prove fascinating.
Finally, there is the history of the islands. It’s long and rich. Arguably, the most unique story involves a WWII cargo ship that went aground off South Uist. Its main cargo? Hundreds and hundreds of bottles of single malt whiskey. In those days, the region was extremely religious – it still is but to a lesser extent – and drinking alcohol wasn’t approved of. Still, a bunch of islanders from South Uist and neighbouring Eriskay grabbed as much whiskey as they could and hid it from the authorities. In some cases, they buried it but only after drinking enough beforehand that they couldn’t recall where they had put their treasure. Some of them were apprehended by the police with four being charged and convicted of crimes relating to the incident. Mackenzie Compton recounted the story in a book which was turned into a movie. Today, in both South Uist and Eriskay, that episode in Hebridean history remains fresh.
So, for an unusual escape, try the Uists and Eriskay. Have a wee whiskey in a sleepy pub. Sit and watch a storm drop down over a nearby hill. Engage a local about which part of the Outer Hebrides is the most interesting. Smell the sea and earth. And keep reminding yourself that, one day, you’ll have to go home.

The 20 kilometres of the French Riviera from bustling Nice to hyper-expensive Monaco are jammed with people, buildings and vehicles.

But what a place to cycle!

Yes, you read that correctly. This busy, overpriced chunk of coast offers some wonderful riding, for the average cyclist to the racer interested in testing legs and lungs.
The reasons are varied. First, you have the weather which is usually warm and sunny from late April to mid October. Then you have the neighbouring sea which is stunningly azure in colour. Now, add in some small towns that are great for visiting. For example, Eze, stuffed on a hilltop and minutes from Monaco, is renowned for its perfume, but provides some wonderful views of the rugged terrain.

Finally, there are the different routes. For example, you can take the low road from Nice through Villefranche sur Mer onto Beaulieu and then follow it all the way to Monaco; the route has a couple of hills but nothing that causes any pain. The Middle Corniche is much more demanding, but provides stunning vistas. Then you have the High Corniche where some of the world’s greatest cyclists train; the climbs are tough but the views are simply world class.

With some planning, you can ride 60 or 70 km in a day without covering the same terrain. You’ll do some hills, including the occasional steep one, but you’ll won’t mind when you have so much beauty around you.

And if you’re wondering how cycling mixes with all that traffic, don’t fret. The French love cycling and you can ride on a series of bikepaths beside most main arteries. Surprisingly, if you don’t mind some climbing, you can take detours and soon find yourself in a quiet, secluded area that seems a world removed from downtown Nice or the harbour of Monaco.

Then at the end of a good day’s riding in this part of France, you can relax at a nice, inexpensive café – by Riviera standards – and tell yourself, as you bathe in the warmth and enjoy the glorious coastal scenes before you, that life can be just fine.

By D’Arcy Kavanagh

D'Arcy on the way to Monte Carlo

1.The French love cycling.

2.The scenery is astonishing and varied.

3.French dogs don’t chase you.

4.You can build a good hunger for which the fabulous French food is the perfect remedy.

5.You can ride some of the same routes as Lance Armstrong, Alberta Contador and other Tour de France greats.

6.Nothing tastes better at the end of a good day’s riding than a glass of French wine.

7.The weather, from spring to fall, is often warm and dry. (Hopefully, I don’t jinx that by mentioning it.)

8.You can ride in the middle of nowhere or in downtown Paris with no fear.

9.You’ll hear other riders and even pedestrians holler “Courage!” as you struggle up a hill.

10.You’ll get good parking places for your bike because, after all, it’s a bike and that makes it – and you – special.

If you cycle the Col d’Eze from either Nice or Villefranche, you’re in for both a great workout and enough scenery to keep you remembering your adventure for years.

I began from our small, cozy, harbour-side RCI in Villefranche. I rode about 300 metres of flat. After that, it was up all the way to Eze, the perfume town, and beyond.

The route climbed into the downtown area, turned east then headed through a residential area that was all switchbacks with each bend providing another spectacular view of the jagged, mountainous coastline and endless vessels ranging from small sailboats to cruiseline giants.

High up, overlooking several towns, the road continued to climb eastward and slightly north. It was one hard kilometre after another, but every pedal stroke was rewarded for this ride is one of the best on the French Riviera – maybe the most glorious ride of all.

Then I was in Eze where tourists flocked to the perfumerie. After that, it was another steep climb to the top of the High Corniche road and the best view of all for it seemed all of the Riviera stretched out below.

So, there it is, a once-in-a-lifetime ride that will test your lungs and legs. But what rewards!

Video

Thanks to Em for allowing us to reprint this letter she sent to the Lethbridge Herald

Re: City decides on third bridge location

Dear Editor

As someone who participated in the River Crossing Advisory Committee I was pleased to see that common sense has prevailed to some degree in the matter of the third river crossing (The Lethbridge Herald, City decides on third bridge location, December 1, 2009). The Lethbridge Herald also reported that the need for a third crossing could be delayed or avoided “if there was a significant change in the way residents choose to travel within the city.” I suspect the original wording in the recommendations from the Committee represents not so much an exhortation to residents to hop on their bicycles as it is an appeal to the City to change the way it develops: halting urban sprawl so that exclusive reliance on the automobile is not required, and preferring medium density housing and mixed use developments so that people live closer to amenities and services. Without these critical components, a change in transportation patterns is highly unrealistic and a costly third crossing is inevitable. The change that is required to avoid a third river crossing, or to avoid traffic snarls, for that matter, cannot be pinned solely on the residents of Lethbridge. This city has been developed around the automobile and that is what fundamentally needs to change.

Em Pijl-Zieber

http://la.streetsblog.org/2009/12/01/girls-try-bikes-discover-new-freedom/

This is a picture of D’Arcy with his rented Velo. Sure would like to be back there… summer or winter.

The train stopped at the small, immaculate station in Oberstaufen and we piled out, hauling our bikes with us. We jumped aboard and rode a half-kilometre into the charming old part of this resort town that attracts hikers in summer and skiers in winter. The town’s charms – flowers everywhere, Alpine-style buildings – made it a dramatic change from Munich where we’d started our day.

We sat outdoors in the centrum – the town centre – for lunch and watched shoppers, walkers and cyclists drift by. The mood seemed unabashedly relaxed and we welcomed it. Munich is a great city, but sometimes it’s good to have a slower pace of life.

Then we got instructions from a local to our RCI. The route was straightforward: Head to the northwest part of town, go down a kilometer-long hill into a farming area and it’s there on the rightt, so large that it can’t be missed even with the imposing hills around it and the mountains in the distance demanding attention.

The RCI was sprawling with several Alpine-style buildings nestled against a forest. Our one-bedroom accommodation was perfect for me, my wife Lynda and my daughter Keely. Lynda and I took the bedroom which had a patio that popped out into the forest where untold numbers of birds chirped away. Keely used the pull-out bed in the couch for sleeping. Our digs were cosy and delightful.

And so the days drifted by quietly but happily as we cycled the valley north of our RCI, rode east on a road that twisted and turned through a score of villages, and, several times, took a train to Lindau, a stunning town on the shores of busy but beautiful Lake Constance. Whenever we went to Lindau, we found time to explore its winding streets, to investigate its fine shops and to indulge in a meal at a café overlooking the harbour and with the Alpsglistening on the far shores. Then we’d head out from Lindau, joining thousands of other cyclists as we rode large stretches of the shoreline, even going into Switzerland.

One day, we put aside our bikes and took an eight-hour bus tour from the RCI. Our driver/host handled his machine with great skill on the narrow roads through the hilly south of Germany as he told us about the history of one splendid valley after another. The most memorable stop was at Neuschwanstein Castle, the 19^thcentury Bavarian structure built by King Ludwik II and which is the model for the Disney castle. We joined hundreds of other bug-eyed tourists as we explored this well-kept but bizarre edifice envisioned by an individual who was known, not surprisingly, as “Mad Ludwig.”

When the week was over, we were ready to go. Yet, at the same time, we were a little sad to leave. Oberstaufen is a delightful community in a beautiful setting with an RCI that’s a model of efficiency and comfort, and a neighbouring region that offers a variety of delights, from castles to a glorious European lake that demands days of exploring. With some luck, we’ll return.

Highlights: The community, close to the trains, the scenery (this photo is of the RCI resort)

Didn’t like: The hills, but they weren’t that bad (Lynda just doesn’t like to sweat!)

Organized Tours: Yes and they were fabulous and worth more than the low price

Would we go to this resort again: Yes, and surprisingly it always seems available. There is lots to see and do and even more if you had a car.