From Berlin to Poland – croissants, ball bearings, and cabin hunting
According to my GPX track, I had exactly 1,072 kilometers under my belt in Berlin – a quarter of the way to the North Cape. Sounds like a milestone, but instead of celebrating, I had an unspectacular goal ahead of me: 236 kilometers to Świnoujście. My booked ferry to Ystad in Sweden was scheduled to depart from there at 11:00 p.m. So, enough time, actually. And that’s exactly my problem: when I’m not under pressure, I start to dawdle – and that’s worse than headwinds for an ultracyclist.
Wednesday – Out of Berlin – a test of patience
7:30 a.m., bakery. Two croissants to go, eaten in the saddle – a gourmet breakfast à la long distance. However, the way out of Berlin was anything but enjoyable: bumpy bike paths, heavy traffic, seemingly endless suburbs.
Bonus level of the day: my rear tire was flat. Quickly pumped up at the hotel, but the air loss remained. So, a stop at Kaufland for a replacement tube, then a visit to the bike shop in Oranienburg for a tube and the opportunity to use a good pump. New tube in, air on – finally ready to roll again.
Towards Poland – crosswinds and encounters
The wind blew from the side until just before Usedom. There, the route turned, a tailwind kicked in, and suddenly it was like riding on autopilot. Along the way, I alternated between overtaking and chatting briefly with other riders.
On Usedom, I met a school class that was on a bike tour. A boy waved – he had a defect. Unfortunately, the bearing in the freewheel was broken, so I couldn’t work any magic. My tip: “Change riders every kilometer, then you’ll get there.” The teacher was thrilled, and I rode on with the good feeling of at least having provided some words of encouragement.
Swinemünde – Waiting for the ferry
In Swinemünde, I met participants from the Lower Rhine, Luxembourg, and Italy. We ate together, stocked up on supplies for the next morning at the supermarket, and then rolled together to the ferry.
There were no cabins available online, but I asked the reception to put me on the waiting list – hoping that someone would miss their crossing. And sure enough: for €23, I got a bed in a four-berth cabin.
The joy lasted until bedtime, when roommate No. 3 appeared – a snorer of the highest order. My emergency solution: bandages as earplugs, taped to my ears with adhesive tape. Not pretty, but effective. Five hours of sleep were guaranteed.
Sweden – tailwind, red houses, and mosquito cabinet
Thursday – From the ferry to tailwind paradise
5:30 a.m., Ystad, Sweden. After a night of snoring and adhesive bandage earplugs, I stood on the deck and ate breakfast. The sky was clear, my legs were surprisingly fresh – tailwind included.
Then, on the outskirts of town, I almost had my first fall: there was a barrier in the middle of the bike path. Apparently, the planners of this infrastructure only know bicycles from catalogs.
I rode in changing groups, got to know Philipp from Karlsruhe – a name I would encounter more often – and headed for Husqvarna, just behind Jönköping.
The only catch: in Värnamo, I got lost in a pizzeria whose service speed was more reminiscent of a snail’s pace. With 80 kilometers to go, a full stomach, and dwindling daylight, it was motivating but not relaxing. I finally rolled into my accommodation along Lake Vättern, with breakfast provisions from the gas station in my luggage.
Friday – checkpoint, cake, and changing comfort zones
From Husqvarna, it was uphill to Gränna, checkpoint number three. I had 1,673 kilometers behind me. The CP wasn’t open yet, so I treated myself to breakfast at the bakery with an Austrian and a Scotsman – multiculturalism on Swedish dough.
Over waves and hills, I headed towards Örebro, where I met up with Philipp again. There I invested in overshoes – not only for comfort, but also because my Achilles tendon was slowly protesting. Cling film as a permanent solution had had its day.
Shortly afterwards, I met Louis from Munich, who was struggling with muscle problems. We continued on together until we came across a family who had been standing by the side of the road for hours – with our name on a sign, bananas, energy bars, and water. Maria and Gustav had bought 23 kg of bananas and 50 bottles of water especially to provide for all the participants. Not everyone stopped, but we did. Accommodation? Food? Stories? All included. We canceled our booked stays and settled down in the living room – wine (water for me) and laughter until 11 p.m., alarm set for 5:30 a.m.
