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My ride report from the Transcontinental Race is divided into two parts, with Days below and Days here. One of my goals for returning to the race in and was therefore to finish the race properly unsupported, which I finally managed to achieve in Croatian coast road The previous evening, I had met John, a fellow TCR rider, on the road to the Croatian coast, and we had shared a hotel room. When checking the tracker the previous evening, we had seen that one more TCR racer had last been tracked in the parking lot of our hotel, and he showed up at our breakfast table shortly before we were ready to leave; a Swiss guy who lives near Zurich called Tim Arnold. We had a short chat before John and I hit the road. Windy cove The coastal road had several small climbs, swirling winds blowing from all directions, and a fair amount of holiday traffic. It was very scenic, but tough riding. Before turning off, we found a good grocery store and I impressed John by how much my bags could expand to swallow a major supply of food and snacks for the next couple of days. I was very pleased to find lip balm in the grocery store because my second physical problem the first being a bit of nagging knee pain in the mornings was that my lower lip had become quite damaged and swollen from being out in the sun, wind, and rain for the previous week. I hoped that applying the lip balm would protect it and help it to recover, but unfortunately this never really happened and it would continue to be a problem all of the way to Istanbul and would take almost two weeks to heal properly afterwards. At the top of the climb, we awarded ourselves with an early first lunch. We were making good time, but then our road was blocked by some construction. The alternate road would add a fair amount of distance, so we checked out the closed road and saw that it was closed due to a bridge that was being repaired a couple hundred meters further on, which we could easily walk our bikes across. On the other side, we had the closed road entirely to ourselves for the next 20 km. We decided to exploit having our own road by me taking charge of the entire right-hand side of the road, and John got all of the left-hand side. We found a decent lunch spot, and sat down directly on the deserted road to eat a second lunch. We both ordered a local specialty, goulash, which was good and filling. Back on the road at around pm, we still had km more to do and were prepared for a bit of night riding. We had a fair climb to do out of town, but the road was well graded and in excellent condition. After summiting, we entered another valley and saw the most awesome sight in front of us — a gentle downhill that went on for what looked like 10 or 15 km. It was truly bike touring heaven, and typified everything that was awesome about riding in inland Croatia. One of many great stretches of road in Croatia There were still a few more bumps to do before hitting the next town of Knin, and it was obvious that John was getting very tired, so we planned to stop for more food there our fifth meal of the day. Coming into town, we spotted the bike of another TCR rider, so pulled over to say Hello. It turned out to be Tim, who we had met at breakfast that morning. Looking at the tracker after the race was done, only about six racers took this route in total during the whole race, so we were very lucky to all be doing it at the same time and to meet up. It was completely dark once we got going, so we were happy to ride together and have the power of three headlights to see by and three taillights to be seen with, plus chatting made the kilometers pass quickly. A dinner of beef goulash and fries Neither Tim nor John had a tent, so we needed to find somewhere covered. We then spotted a sign for a church, and all knew that you could often find a place to sleep near those, so headed up the side street. Before reaching the church, we found a small hut by the side of the road. Tim and John went to check it out, and were very excited because it was just a hay store and the flat hay bales looked ideal for sleeping on. Entering another beautiful valley and seeing a long, gentle descent ahead fter reorganizing the hay bales a bit to make a flattish platform, we had a reasonably comfortable bed. Despite the strange location, Tim and I both slept well in our lightweight sleeping bags. We were again riding along Croatian backroads without much traffic, and I had spotted an even smaller one that was only on some of the maps that could be a bit of a shortcut. It was a little bumpy and narrow, but we were having a great time exploring this fantastic region. By lunchtime, it started to get really hot for the first time in the whole trip, and we were very pleased to find a grocery store with cold drinks and ice creams before tackling the biggest climb of the day. I therefore decided to press on without them. The race rules prohibit drafting riding directly behind other riders to stay out of the wind , so there is no physical advantage to be gained by riding together. After summiting on my own, I headed down the really fun, sweeping descent. After going through a village at the top of a ridge, the road went parallel to the top of the ridge for a long time, with magnificent views down to the valley about metres below. Looking at the map later, I realized why the road had stayed up so high for so long before dropping down — we were right on the Croatian-Bosnian border, so the road was made that way to stay in Croatian territory. There was another new section of motorway nearby, so again the old main road was almost deserted. The start of another fun downhill About 50 km after I had left the other two, I reached the town of Metkovic, where I tried to go into the first grocery store that I found to buy something for an early supper. Unfortunately, it was closed, but just then John and Tim pulled up. We found an open store on the other side of the river and ate together in the riverside park. We did a metre high climb to get back into the higher inland valleys. I again went hard on the climb and left John and Tim behind. A lake we passed just after crossing the border to Bosnia At the top of the climb, I pulled over to go to the toilet, but as soon as I got off the pavement my front wheel hit a rock edge and the tube got pinched and punctured. I had just finished fixing it when Tim and John came by; they had been delayed by taking a wrong turn a little earlier. I therefore decided to stop trying to head off on my own and to ride with them for the rest of the evening. We missed a turn in a small village just after that and took a dirt track to connect to the road that we wanted. Unfortunately, John then punctured on another sharp edge on the dirt track and so we all went to work to fix that quickly and checked that the rest of our tires were well inflated to guard against further problems. Out of the village, the road got smaller and smaller, and we ended up riding along above a dammed lake in an almost uninhabited valley. The concrete road was bumpy, and we were going full speed to try to make up for lost time — I was having a great time trying to keep the same pace as Tim up front. We did one more small, sharp climb to get into another section of valley, and from the top had a view of a wild, untamed region that felt like we were far, far away from civilization. Awesome Bosnian backroads We gave up on our plan to try to get to the coast before stopping, partly because we were worried about doing the big downhill in the dark on roads that may be far from ideal, and so instead set our goal as the next town of Trebinje at the end of the valley. We continued going full gas for the 30 km valley ride into the dark. An almost deserted valley, plus a short section of roadworks While trying to sort out a place to stay, a guy came over to talk to us and asked if we were in the TransContinental Race. We were surprised that someone in this random town in Bosnia knew about it, but he told us that he was actually Greek, and knew of someone from there who was doing the race. We had been talking about what we were all planning to do next, and it seemed like we would be heading our own ways. John was actually no longer in the race because he had already decided not to climb the Stelvio Pass due to a lingering cold and the terrible weather. He had been talking to his wife frequently, who had been having a tough time looking after the kids back home. So he was planning to find a route home the next day via Dubrovnik. I instead headed out to the edge of town and found a place in the bushes to lay out my sleeping pad and bag and slept under the stars. I wished John all the best for getting back to his family quickly, Tim tried to convince me to come with him to Kosovo, but I stuck to what I thought at the time would be an easier route through Albania and Greece. Once on the Montenegran coast, I found what appeared to be a very large grocery store, but when I went inside, most of the shelves were empty or contained empty cardboard boxes to fill the space and half of the lights were off to save energy. Climbing out of Bosnia I had to encircle the bay of Kotor to get to the base of the climb up to the third checkpoint on Mount Lovcen. Halfway up the climb, an Italian rider called Mario caught up with me. We went in and got our brevet cards signed by the owner, and I decided to stay for lunch while Mario pushed on. The risotto was good and the view across the bay and over the mountains was really spectacular. I was also very pleased to use the bathroom to get cleaned up a bit after spending two nights sleeping wild. They were cheering me on each time they went past, and near the top I stopped at the same place as them, we chatted briefly, and they insisted that I take a bottle of water from them. They did a great job of keeping me focused on pushing all the way up the climb. A grocery store that was far too big for the amount of food available Reaching the third checkpoint, which was the final really big climb of the whole trip, meant that there would be about four days of riding left to get to Istanbul. I now had so many people following my progress online that it had become an even more important ambition. I was also starting to think about how special it was going to be to see my wife Heather again at the finish line. This race is far more than a physical journey across the continent, but is also an emotional journey, as well as being mentally draining. The fruit section also could have been a lot smaller When I met Sam at the hotel, we started talking about what was still to come before Istanbul, and I mentioned about my wife and her brother coming to meet me there. Sam tried to ask me something more about this, but saw me getting a bit teary-eyed at the thought of it all, and thankfully decided to leave it there before I got too emotional. Getting back on the bike, I still had a third country to reach that day: Albania. The roads out of the mountains towards Podgorica were all generally downhill and fast for quite some distance. As I approached the city, the traffic got a lot denser. Coastal village in Montenegro I took the major roads that skirted the edge of the city to get onto the road to Albania as soon as possible. I therefore went with option C, which was to maintain my speed and bunny hop the gaps in the pavement. They jumped straight to the front of the short queue of cars, so I went with them, and they were able to talk to the Albanian border guard in Italian, which made everything go very fast and smoothly. We were all planning to find a hotel in the first major town in Albania, Shkoder, which was about 40 km away. There are a lot of Albanians living in Italy, so I decided that sticking with these guys would be a good idea because Italian might be a lot more useful than English in this country. The light slowly faded as we made our way towards Shkoder. None of these were big problems, we dodged around them and continued to enjoy the riding. However, the road surface then flipped to being quite poorly maintained, without much of a shoulder, the two-lane road became four-lane, and the amount of traffic picked up significantly. Apparently, the best way to ride a motorbike at night in an Albania city is without any lights and on the left side of the road between the parked cars and the oncoming traffic. We were of course riding with the flow of the traffic on the right side, so these kamikaze motorbikers were coming straight at us with no lights on! We were surprised when we saw the first one, and completely perplexed once we saw the third one and realized that this was typical behavior here. There were also many people on bicycles doing the same thing, but they moved much more slowly and are smaller, so are far easier to avoid than the motorbikes. The building looked like a very large hotel, but there were no lights on in any of the rooms and there was no sign outside. Mario headed over to investigate while we waited, highly doubtful of whether this was still a hotel and whether it was open. The receptionist told me that the price would be 40 euros, which seemed not too bad, although I had thought it might be less, but we were all satisfied. However, we then realized that this was the TOTAL price for all three of us, not the price per person. The two Italians needed to pay 24 euros to share a room and my single would be just 16 euros. We were learning about this country FAST: not only do they have roads that change very quickly from being some of the best to being some of the wildest, but also the prices are extremely cheap. The room was small and basic, but my shower was divine, finally getting clean for the first time since just after the Slovenian border. I then headed out to find something fast and filling to eat. Having got away with paying in euros at the hotel, it looked like I would need to get some local currency for this place. Somehow, by the time it came to selecting how much money I needed, my brain had added an extra zero and I asked for 20, leks. Obviously, I had a lot more to learn, and I might not be able to spend all of my 20, leks in the next 24 hours. This was the start of my sprint to the finish along the main roads of Albania, Greece, and Turkey. Having ridden into Shkoder on a section of wide and freshly-paved road, and then experienced the craziness of the city streets, I was eager to find out what the road on the other side of town was like. In hindsight, this was probably a mistake. The traffic increased significantly and although the road was often wide enough or had a bit of a hard shoulder so that I could ride along without being too bothered by the constant passing traffic, occasionally the road narrowed significantly. I installed it just before leaving London because I was experiencing some discomfort in my neck that made turning my head to see the traffic behind me a little difficult. I therefore went onto the dirt on the side of the road until there was space to get back on. A couple kms later, I found another racer who had just finished repairing front and rear punctures. In addition to the road not being wide enough for the volume and speed of the traffic, there was also the terrible condition of the road surface to deal with. Rough Alabanian roads where I left the highway, and they got worse than this! It was obviously time to get off of this awful road, so I planned to take the next minor road that linked up with the backroad that I wanted. Just before I got there, the overly narrow highway widened abruptly to now have two lanes each way, a dividing wall in the middle, and a wide hard shoulder. I then saw a no bicycles allowed sign, so I decided to stick with my new plan to get off of this road. However, that next section of divided highway with a shoulder was probably twice as safe as the previous section where the road was too narrow for cyclists to have a safe place to ride. Riding along the backroad was nice because I got to see some of the life in the small villages that I passed through, but after a few kms the road deteriorated, first with massive cracks and potholes appearing, then it turned into a gravel road, and then just dirt that had been half washed away by small streams. By this time, I was not enjoying my experience of Albania one bit. Despite the poor condition of many cars mechanically, the Albanians LOVE to keep the outside of their cars spotless. The obsession with clean cars was in sharp contrast to the amount of trash that was all over the place. Apparently, trash collection services simply do not exist in many parts of the country and so the sidewalks and roadsides are often covered in trash bags and rubbish. One of many open man-holes in Tirana One more thing that was a particular problem in Albania, but which is also partly true of the other countries in the region, is that there are lots of wild dogs around who like to chase cyclists. One other racer told me of being chased by a pack of around 20 of them while riding at night in Albania! Fortunately, I only had a couple of Albanian dogs give me a half-hearted chase as I went past the property that they obviously lived at, so were not actually wild. Another serious hazard in Albania is the man-hole covers, or lack thereof. The value of the metal in a man-hole cover makes it worth stealing almost every last one of them, so there are gaping holes in the roads and on the sidewalks in the towns and cities. The holes can easily be more than half a meter across and several meters deep, see the photo on the right. You better keep your eyes open when walking or driving, especially at night! Overall, I recommend that you never visit Albania — the place is a mess in so many ways, people seem to have no respect for their land or their own health or safety. Pockets of farmland between arid peaks After about 10km of riding on the dirt road, I made it back onto the highway to get into the capital city of Tirana. It was the only sensible way to get there and at least by then the traffic heading for the coastal towns and the airport had turned off. I was out of spare tubes, but I repaired one of the previously punctured tubes with a pre-glued patch that I had and got back on the road reasonably soon. Heading up the long valley with a strong tailwind Fortunately, once out of Tirana there is a brand new motorway with a big tunnel under the mountain so that the old main road that goes over the mountain was almost empty. I finally got to enjoy the scenery and relax a little. It was lunchtime, so I took advantage of the cooler temperature at the higher altitude and stopped for lunch under a shady tree with a nice view. Once over the mountain, I had to go up a long valley that slowly climbed for 70 km to a mountain pass at meters altitude that is the border with Macedonia. I wanted to get out of Albania as soon as possible, so I was extremely pleased to have a massive tailwind blow me up the valley at an impressive speed. The climb was mostly gentle until the last few steep kms. He gave me a big thumbs-up when he eventually got past. The final push over the pass to leave Albania At the border, I was in line between two cars from Poland. They were full of young guys on a road trip around Europe. They thought that what I was doing was very cool, and took some photos of me and the bike. One of the guys leant way out of the window to wave vigorously and take some photos as they went past. The wind caught his sunglasses and they flew off and smashed on the road. When he realized what had happened, he roared with laughter and told his buddy to keep driving. They seemed to be having a great adventure! I would never ride in Albania at night, but I was now entering Macedonia with about 1. The only other town with places to stay was less than one hour away. I therefore had to figure out what Macedonian roads and drivers were like before reaching that town so that I could decide whether it would be safe enough to do some night riding. Fortunately, Macedonian drivers seemed to be a lot less aggressive than the Alabanians, and the roads from the border down to Lake Ohrid were all in a decent condition and well made to handle the moderate amount of traffic, so I decided to push on. Even so, I really enjoyed the experience: The high-altitude lakes of Ohrid and Prespa were very scenic, the forested sections of hills that I went through between each valley reminded me of riding in parts of Austria, and the vibe of the packed outdoor restaurants in Bitola that I walked through on the way to my hotel was really cool. I felt like I was back in a somewhat familiar landscape and culture and I was very pleased to leave the unfathomable land of Albania behind. I did almost km and meters of climbing that day. It was the second biggest day of riding during the trip, with only Day 2, when I got off of the ferry in Dieppe, France early in the morning, being more distance. However, the ride from Dieppe was far easier, with meters less climbing and on roads that were a lot less stressful to ride on despite riding 50 km across Paris that day. I was extremely satisfied by having reached Bitola because it meant that I was now back on schedule to arrive in Istanbul on the 14th day. The shrine where I fixed my bike I got up early and was on the road just before sunrise. The Greek border was about an hour away, and shortly after passing through I found a small grocery store where I bought my second breakfast as my energy levels were pretty low. I had a short climb to do afterwards, which was nice as it got me onto quieter roads. I walked up to the top of the small rise to fix the bike, where there was a shrine with a stone bench. I also had to replace a damaged link of the chain with a quick link. This was a pretty major repair to do on the road, and I was pleased to have brought everything that I needed to take care of it. I gradually made my way out of the higher lands on a large road that had very little traffic. We shared stories of being chased by dogs before he carried on and I found a restaurant. Evening sun on the lake after Thessaloniki In the afternoon, I found a large grocery store, so filled up my bags and bottles with food and drinks, but what I really wanted to find was a sports or bike shop where I could re-stock my depleted stock of inner tubes. I was approaching the big city of Thessaloniki, so the highway got bigger and busier, with parts of it reminding me of Albania as the hard shoulder appeared and disappeared abruptly, but again there was no other decent option available. This was a city in which all the riders who went through it found different routes. From there all the way to the Turkish border almost kms away there was an ideal road to ride on because the old main highway had been recently superseded by a new motorway. I rode past a couple of large lakes, and by the time I got to the coastal resort of Aspravalta it was getting dark. Despite it being mid-week, every hotel I asked at was full, so I resigned myself to wild camping on the edge of town. Luckily, it was easy to find a grocery store and a pizzeria on the main street to restock my supplies and get some hot, filling food. Greek coast road along the Thracian Sea The early morning ride followed the coast of the Thracian Sea for some time, with many fantastic views. The peaceful ride was only interrupted by a ticking noise coming from my chain, so I finally decided to stop and investigate. We spent a while talking about equipment, routes, etc. The beach resort region of Kavala When I got to the top of the third checkpoint at Mount Lovcen in Montenegro, I saw that he had passed through 12 hours before me. Since then, it had been my goal to catch him before Istanbul. It was therefore not a big surprise to see Chris come along when I was investigating my chain noise. He was now riding with Rickie Cotter, a very funny and tough Welsh lady. I therefore decided to try to fix both links instead of replacing them and hope that at least one would hold not an easy task with a narrow speed chain. However, getting the links lined up again was not proving so successful. So Chris had come along at the perfect time because I could use his mini pliers to get the chain realigned before using my chain tool to pop the pins back in place. After another 50 km, I stopped at a bakery to get some food and had another check on the chain. I therefore used the remaining quick link to replace the broken link and left the other, which fortunately held up all way to Istanbul. It really felt like I was getting close to the finish line now. I stopped by the side of the road and took a picture of it. Cresting the final hill in Greece I was planning to get to the town of Xanthi before stopping for lunch, but my rear tire went flat again shortly beforehand. I found a shady bus stop to sit in, eat lunch, and repair the tube. The problem this time was that the pre-glued patch was no longer airtight, so I repaired another of the punctured tubes instead. I was getting seriously frustrated by now because I really wanted to make up time, and I was feeling strong, but the fourth mechanical delay of the day meant that I was falling further and further behind schedule. The afternoon was hot, and by the end of it I was feeling pretty depleted of energy and overheated. There was one climb up to around meters altitude before getting back to the coast at Alexandroupolis. The climb would normally have been no problem, but I really struggled on it. Heather had posted on Facebook a day or two beforehand that people could send me text messages, and I received many messages of support, which was great. I was happy to take my mind off of the conditions by writing a response, and the short exchange brightened my mood. Unfortunately, Alan neglected to mention what had spurred him to text me, which was that my tracker was no longer transmitting. Apparently, there were dozens of people watching their computer screens and wondering why I was stuck in northern Greece, fearing the worst, when in fact it was just the tracker batteries that were dead. I stopped each of them to see if they would sell me an inner tube or a patch kit. Once I was through Alexandropoulis, the sun was starting to go down. Fortunately, there was a hotel in the middle of nowhere just on the Turkish side of the border. Before going to bed, I phoned Heather, who had just arrived in Istanbul with her brother, and she was able to research where there was a bike shop in the next major town. I was excited to start what I hoped would be the last day of the race, so I again got on the road half an hour before sunrise. The road was nice and calm for a while, but the traffic soon started to pick up. Whereas in Greece, they have built a new motorway that runs mostly parallel with the old road, so that the old road is generally nice to ride on, in Turkey they are instead upgrading the old road into a motorway, leaving no other alternative. They were still finishing one side of the motorway in some sections, so the road width was greatly reduced for several kms. I went as hard as I could through these narrow sections to minimize my time on them and reduce the number of cars that needed to pass me there. I had an early lunch in the city of Tekirdag after km of riding, at a beach-side fast food place. I had been making good time and was hopeful of reaching Istanbul by early evening. So instead of heading into the city to find the bike shop that Heather had researched for me, I decided to risk it and keep pushing on. Shortly after Tekirdag, I found Chris and Rickie again, who were planning to take the exact same route as me, so I knew that as long as I stayed ahead of them then I would be able to get a new tube or patch if I needed it. We stopped at a gas station to get something to cool us down because the temperature was over 30 degrees. Who needs scientifically tested energy bars and sports drinks, when Magnums and Cokes can get you all the way to Istanbul? Chris had even set himself a challenge — to eat 10 Magnums in one day! Within about 15 minutes, he ate Magnums numbers 4, 5, and 6. Unfortunately, after Tekirdag the road got busier and busier. There is a hard shoulder, but because there are no exit or entrance ramps and there are businesses, houses, and roadside stalls all along, the hard shoulder can be used at any point by vehicles joining or leaving the road. Occasionally, there are massive intersections controlled by traffic lights. I saw that if drivers want to get past a group of slower vehicles ahead and the light is red, then they sometimes drive up the hard shoulder to the stopping line and wait for the light to go green. Once green, they floor the accelerator and get past all of the other vehicles. The hard shoulder is also used as the bus stop, so there are many pedestrians hanging around on it, and cars also drop off and pick up people all the time. Riding along the hard shoulder is therefore a real test of vigilance and bravery. I made it about half an hour down the road after the gas station before my rear wheel went flat again. I had nothing left with which to repair it, but I knew that Chris and Rickie would be along soon. Thankfully, Chris had extra vulcanized patches and a tube of glue that he donated to me before pushing on, so I took my time to do the patching job well and vowed to never use a pre-glued patch again. It was less than an hour before my next rear puncture. This time it was a large piece of metal wire that had pierced the tire. JD came past when I was fixing it and we talked for a while. I also noticed that the tire was damaged from where I had one of my pinch flats, so I reinforced the inside with an emergency tire boot basically, a stiff piece of material that prevents the tube from rubbing against or pushing out of any hole in the tire. Finally on some smaller Turkish roads During one of these stops, the tracker lost power for long enough that it shut down. I eventually reached the turnoff from the highway to head for the obligatory northern route into the city that would be much quieter. Excellent Turkish food that gave me stregth to finish the ride Near the top of the climb, I spotted a small restaurant, so I decided to stop for a real meal. The waiter spoke no English, but he got the idea that I needed something good and filling and sorted it out for me. He also led me to the bathroom because I apparently needed to get a bit cleaner before eating. I sent Heather an SMS telling her that I was stopping for dinner and might look a bit feral when she saw me later that evening. I soon spotted JD coming up the road. I called him over and suggested that we ate together, and we quickly doubled the order of whatever I was getting. The food was fantastic, very filling and cost very little. It was the most memorable meal of the whole trip and it was especially nice to have JD there to share those last special moments of the race with. The virtually new but almost empty northern highway to Istanbul Being fully refueled, I was ready to go full-speed to the finish line in Istanbul. In contrast, JD was thinking about camping wild somewhere and then finishing the ride the next day, so I headed off without him. The northern route into Istanbul started on a reasonably small road, but it soon changed into a big highway that had just been built, but had very little traffic. The evening light was fading so I only had one chance to get it right before darkness fell, so I was very relieved that it worked perfectly first time. This was the ninth puncture of the trip one or two may not have made it into this report for the sake of brevity , eight of which had come within the previous km, and six of which had been entirely independent of each other i. My tires 23mm wide Michelin Pro4 Endurance have excellent longevity on decent-quality roads, but were not up to the conditions that I found in southeastern Europe. The finish line at the Rumeli Hisari castle, having done km in 14 days The tube that I had now hopefully fixed had three patches and the tire had two boots for extra support. The chain had two quick links and a bodged repair job on a third link. The rear dynamo-powered light had a dodgy connection which I had to keep checking because it sometimes started to flicker, and could even go out fortunately, my dynamo-powered front light had no problems. The rear derailleur worked, but was far from perfect ever since the dog knocked it into the spokes because where it was connected to the frame was slightly bent. The satellite tracker was no longer working due to the flat batteries. The rear brake pads were getting close to being down to the metal support, so I was preserving the back brake by using only the front brake when possible. I had to do one short climb through a forest to get to the Bosphorous river and then the final stretch to the finish line. Once I was within 10 km of the finish, I knew that no matter what mechanical issues I had with the bike, I would be able to walk the bike to the finish line, so that no longer worried me. I was only concerned about a crash that would prevent me from continuing, so I took the final descent through the dark forest and the ride along the Bosphorous extremely cautiously. I was very pleased to make it to the finish just before 10pm, because that was exactly 13 days and 12 hours since leaving London. I had thought about how special it would be to finish many times during the race, but now that I was here it seemed odd and far from overwhelming I later learned that this was a sentiment shared by many racers. Even so, it was wonderful to see my lovely wife, give her a big hug, and also her brother Daniel. Then JD arrived, having decided not to sleep with the wild dogs in the forest, but to instead find a hotel in Istanbul. The feeling of camaraderie and respect between the racers was immeasurable. I experienced many great moments of beauty and enjoyment on the bike, which more than made up for the hardships and negative experiences. Unfortunately, many of the negative experiences happened within the final four days, as described here, but it was a shame to end with those because the rest had generally been so fantastic, and I prefer to remember it for those truly wonderful moments. The map on the right click to enlarge it shows my complete route, with the start, finish, and intermediate checkpoints marked in green and overnight stops marked in blue. More detailed maps for each day are shown with the daily descriptions, so click on the links above to see those. The map only shows two dimensions, so the second figure shows the third dimension, elevation. Please note that the scale on the y-axis differs between each section of this figure, as otherwise the sections with large mountains would cause the other sections to appear completely flat. The 14 countries that I passed through are shown in different colors. The fourth dimension is time, which is shown in the third figure where my progress in kms is plotted against time on the x-axis measured in days, with the vertical lines showing midnight UK time, which is 10pm in Istanbul. Sections where the line is flat shows when I stopped and for how long; only stops of at least one hour are shown. Horizontal lines show country borders. The values shown in the figures are not overly precise, the actual totals were 3, km 2, miles of total distance with 31, metres , feet of climbing in 13 days 12 hours elapsed time, at an average moving speed of The first day was unusual because I only did a short km ride and then had to wait around for the ferry for the afternoon and evening, so I have included that day in the totals above, but not in the averages below. My average daily distance was km miles with metres of altitude gain, which I completed in 15 hours of elapsed time, At night, I stopped for an average of 9 hours, of which I slept for about 6 hours with the shortest sleep being 2. Day 2, in France, was my longest, managing km miles in 15 hours of riding and 18 hours elapsed time. Day 5 was my biggest climbing day with metres of accumulated altitude gain across the Swiss, Austrian, and Italian Alps. The race results are on the official race website. I analyzed the data to breakdown how I did, and here are my placings:. I was relatively slow between checkpoints 2 and 3 because I took the overland route through Slovenia and Croatia rather than using the faster Ancona-Split ferry across the Adriatic. Looking at the times for only this segment, I was 57th of Indeed, that section is where my fondest memories of the whole journey are from. The race organizer Mike Hall making the announcements at the finish party in Istanbul My fastest section relative to everyone else was the final stretch from Montenegro to Istanbul: I was 18th out of 64 when looking at that section alone. The winning man was Kristof Allegaert, from Belgium, who finished in 7 days 23 hours, which was 31 hours ahead of the second-place man, Josh Ibbett, from England, and two hours ahead of the race organizer arriving at the finish line in the official vehicle! The first woman was Pippa Handley, who finished in under 12 days and 5 hours. All three of those took an overland route. Pippa and I had been quite close at several points during the first half of the race, but then she really took off and finished 31 hours earlier than me. This page is in the My Bikepacking Race Reports section. The next page in this section is: Transcontinental Race Report Personal race report of my Transcontinental Race. Read More Page Contents:. Personal race report of my Transcontinental Race. View on Strava.