I spent the much of July traveling internationally with a Brompton bicycle – the trip involved city riding, country riding, air travel, rail travel – but no automobiles.
This was much easier than I anticipated.
In response to some queries about riding and some of my kit, here’s a recap of the days and the gear: bicycle, luggage, camera, and rambling reflections on riding along the farms, the sheep, the coast, and in two European capitals: Amsterdam and London.
What worked, what could be better?
Pack for Your Goals
Originally, I planned for a month-long ride along the Welsh coast. With that in mind, I aimed for a complete travel kit that could be 100% self-contained: I would depart the house by bicycle, with all my luggage, and return the same way.
Here’s the setup, then: my Brompton stuffed into a Vincita Sightseer bag, using my clothes as packing materials (Vincita’s bag includes an internal garmet bag for this purpose), and everything else packed into a Wotancraft 7L Brompton-specific messenger/camera bag. The only loose item would be my helmet, which could just be stylishly worn.
Wotancraft’s Brompton bag is near-identical to their regular 7L Pilot camera bag, with the laptop sleeve on the back replaced by a receiver for a Brompton front-bracket frame.
The original plan was for a cycling trip, not a “photo trip,” and so I carried minimal camera gear, no fancy lenses, strobes, etc. Also in the bag: my elderly but tiny Edirol R-09 audio recorder, and no laptop. Instead, I carried an iPad mini, a pocket-sized bluetooth keyboard, an Inateck power-pass-through USB-C hub and a little Samsung T7 SSD for backups (more on all the electronic bits later, and the bottom of the post). This gear plus wallets, passport, first aid kit, Midori A6 notebook and some pens still left the bag lightweight with room to spare.
I did “modify” the bag in one respect: it comes with two detachable pouches: a drawstring lens/bottle pouch and a rectangular zip. Swapping the drawstring pouch for another matching zipper pouch (I already had one) was more useful since the main bag already has a built-in water-bottle-friendly side pouch.
Wotancraft’s add-on Molle-based pouches can be detached and used as a bag on their own - I brought one extra strap for this purpose. Instead of toting around the large camera bag, I could carry the camera “in the open” on its own strap (wrapped snugly around my wrist), and the small pouch could hold wallet, extra lens, recorder, batteries, pen and notebook. All discreetly tucked across my shoulder and under my jacket.
Here’s all I needed to carry on-board my flight: the messenger bag, bike helmet, noise-cancelling over-ear headphones worn around my collar, and a sport jacket.
The Journey
On departure day, I packed the folded Vincita onto the bike at my front door, rode from home to the bus station, and started to pack the bike into the bag – only to realize that I’d left a key part of the kit behind!
When flying, it’s good to detach the bicycle seat – and to push a cut tennis ball atop the seat post, so that the post wouldn’t potentially smash up through the bag if it was dropped updside down. Where was my tennis ball?
Thankfully, I’d been angling for a super-early bus, which left me enough time to unpack the bike, ride back to the house, fetch the ball, ride back to the bus, repack everything, and have a minute to meditate in the sun before the 8AM-ish second airport bus arrived.
At this point, I knew that the bicycle and clothes were all packed and wouldn’t need unpacking until they arrived at AMS from SFO. As a last task before strapping it all down, I removed the Vincita’s roller-caster wheels, put them in a dedicated pouch, and slipped them down between the tires inside the main bag. Done!
Skidmarks
From there, everything proceeded smoothly, until our B777-200 lost mechanical rudder control during takeoff while traveling at around 120 knots down the runway – the pilots responded by hard-cutting the engines and slamming the brakes. Everyone and every un-strapped object was tossed about. Our halted, angled plane at the end of the runway was surrounded by fire engines (thankfully no fire, and no one seriously hurt), and the flight: cancelled until tomorrow (on a different airplane).
Passengers were eventually sent to a neighboring hotel; no luggage, just a happily-lightweight camera bag.
Which meant no tootbrush, clothes, etc. I couldn’t use the hotel laundry to wash what I was wearing, since I’d be left naked in the hallway.
The solution was to walk a mile or so from the hotel to the nearest grocery store, buy the very smallest/cheapest liquid laundry soap I could find, then return to the hotel room. Ask hotel housekeeping for an extra bath towel (and a toothbrush!). Wash all of my currently-worn clothes, one item at a time in the sink with just a little soap, rinse them in the shower, then roll them up as tightly as possible in the bath towels – wringing them inside a towel avoids severe creasing or damage to the clothing and buttons. The clothes were then hung on regular hangers to dry. The socks were “inflated” for a few minutes using the hotel hair dryer set to a low temperature.
In the morning: ready to go. Some friends living nearby came over and we shared a great bakery breakfast (and they loaned me a spare USB charging cable, since I’d packed mine) before returning to the airport, where United had found an airplane that worked: a more-spacious and largely-empty B777-300. I relaxed at a window seat and next stop: Schipol airport in Amsterdam, a day late.
Skidmarks, Part II
You may have noticed that Amsterdam is not in Wales, even via bicycle. During planning and multi-traveler calendar alignment the shape of the trip had altered considerably, into a much shorter art-viewing and people-visiting trip with a bit of cycling pinned onto the side.
Due to these new requirements, I needed more apparel options than “gray Rapha cycling jersey or blue Rapha cycling jersey.” Dress shirts, shoes, slacks, jackets, ties.
I’d tried – and succeeded – in stuffing everything into the Vincita alone, but when that was done the total weight was above the 50lb/23kg airline limit.
The solution: wear one jacket on the plane (as seen above), and add a small waterproof Cotopaxi Allpa bag, which can be used as a backpack when riding to and from airports and hotels, but when flying the shoulder straps pack away inside the bag to make it a simple, checkable suitcase.
At Schipol, once the bags appeared I was glad I’d gone back for that seat-post tennis ball. The new backpack was dirty and appeared to have boot tread marks on it – while the Vincita bag had two gouges piercing the outer cordura.
Fortunately, the contents of both bags were unharmed.
For later parts of the trip, I purchased a roll of kitchen paper towels and squashed it behind the torn areas of the bag – this cushioned the bag and bike, and no further damage occured.
Unpacking at the airport was simple enough, and I rode from Schipol across farmlands and suburbia to central Amsterdam & my hotel, mostly by following a readymade dedicated cycle route.
Google maps surprised me at first by warning of “steep hills” – perhaps by Dutch standards? The steep hill was a gentle highway overpass.
The second surprise was Google’s insistence that I must take a particular bridge over the Nieuwemeerdijk canal: a bridge that was fenced-off and that had clearly been closed and under construction for months. Grass and weeds were growing all over it and through the pavement.
The manual overrides to this route added another forty minutes to the ride, along green parks and peaceful canals, some of it through the rain – even a functional windmill. I had no real complaints at all!
Approaching Amsterdam city center, the completeness of Amsterdam’s celbrated cycling infrastructure showed its deserved fame. Roundabouts, dedicated crossings, space on every sidewalk, terrific.
The “It” Bike
I was surprised to see that mine was the only Brompton on the many cycling paths. This was true on subsequent days as well. A puzzle, as there were multiple Brompton-specific shops nearby, and the streets of Amsterdam are crammed with bicycles. Why?
I stopped other riders when I’d see a Brompton – every single one of them were foreigners to the Netherlands. Spanish, English. Like me, travelers.
I walked to Trompton, the nearest Brompton shop, and asked: Where are the Bromptons?
The answer: on the train. Visit a major train station, and Bromptons abound. Commuting workers love them. But for day-to-day in-city riding, the no-lock Brompton style is less of a fit for Amsterdam. Most cultural locations, restaurants, and museums lack large-enough coatcheck and locker space to accomodate folded bikes.
I was travelling, as is my habit when riding the Brompton, with no real lock. I had one small one stuffed into a corner of the pack, but: it’s more of a reminder than a real deterrent. It was never used during the trip.
I considered buying and discarding a heavy Abus or similar lock, just for Amsterdam – it would be unweildy on any leg of my flights. I opted instead for less cycling and more trams during my days there. I wasn’t disappointed, and still pleased to be car-free.
Once more, Google maps left me puzzled – at one point it drew a dotted line between buildings and marked it as “11 minute walk” though the two locations were separated by the harbor. Okay?
As for art and people seen in Amsterdam – always great. I’ll leave accounts of those many experiences to some future post(s) as this cycling post is already lengthy.
The same simple pattern of packing and checking followed on my next flight leg, London via Frankfurt. Just carrying the camera bag, easy. And no further luggage damage, either due to better handlers or the value of paper-towel cushioning.
Only one stumper: my two pre-checked bags received only ONE baggage ticket, so I went from a quick three-minute dropoff to standing for 90 minutes in a long 6AM queue at Lufthansa (ended by a three-minute simple chore). Very strange.
Rejoined with My People
From arrival at Heathrow, the express train drops you at Paddington Station, a great launch point for some casual riding through traffic and then around Kensington Gardens, Hyde Park, and so forth before arriving in Saint James Park, where See See & I would stay for a few days before she returned to the States and I’d push on to Wales.
Many Bromptons were seen.
When I paused to snap the pic above, a fellow jogged over wanting to know where I’d purchased my bike – he knew exactly what it was, a mid-20-teens six-speed with rare P-bars, which Brompton no longer make! He complemented my good luck on having it, and expressed his hope at getting one some day (while his female companion nearby patiently waited for us to complete our bike-nerd cycling-gear chat).
Londoners seem to know their folders. I continued on to the next Google Maps puzzle, as Maps suggested that my luggage and I ride up the steps at Waterloo Place. Looping around Trafalgar Square was a better option, landing me on Pall Mall, former home of Mary Beale, William Gainsborough, and my destination.
It’s at this point that the wardrobe shifted from cycling-centered (but not cycle-sport) lightweight hiking and fishing wear to something more formal, since venues in that neighborhood tend to be picky about “the gentleman’s trousers and his lack of a tie.” Happily, I was already just-barely kitted-out by the time See See joined and we went into our venue.
Like most European and some few American cities, London is very walkable. Ridable, too. If you’re going to wander the shops hand-in-hand with someone wonderful, it’s safest on foot. In Amsterdam I regularly saw people cycling side-by-side with hands joined. Somehow it’s safe and normalized there, but it’s hard to imagine following the same method on London’s more crowded and chaotic alleys and motorways.
A large benefit of traveling with your bicycle: since you must carry everything, this means you really should not be shopping. Where would you put your new-found treasures?
Having a tight weight budget handily erases the urge to accumulate. I did buy a cycling jacket and blazer from Brompton’s London shop, both measuring far below my packing overhead (total limit: about 1.5kg).
After two shared classical concerts, visits with friends, an expectedly good West End play based on a manga, lots of fun dinners, slow walks in the parks and lots of art to be seen together, I pedaled off one morning to Euston Station to catch the Avanti West to Birmingham and from there a Transport for Wales connector train to the mouth of the River Ystwyth: Aberystwyth.
Westward
During both legs of that day’s train ride the Brompton was packed-away in its case. I was responsible for managing it. Part of the voyage was a mess because of this – as I was ready to board I was swept-aside by a porter who insisted that I give up my front-of-the line position so that she could set up a wheelchair ramp. By the time I’d boarded, there was nowhere for my large case! Instead I spent three hours holding onto it (and moving it out of the way, occasionally) since it was left in the aisle.
Arrived at a rainy train station again, but Aberystwyth’s not a large town and the station-to-hotel ride was brief. The new Brompton jacket and the Wotancraft bag’s cover kept my self and my gear safe and dry.
The hotel staff at the Four Seasons in Aberstwyth (no, the other Four Seasons) were surprised at my setup – they claimed they’d never seen anything like it?
The western Welsh cycling scene, like that in Sonoma County, is largely dominated by mountain biking, with just a little road cycling (Sonoma was home to the TDF-winning BMC cycling team, when they were active). In fact barring the Welsh hedgerows and year-round green, the shapes of the landscapes are startingly similar. A bike like a city folder was outside the locals’ usual expectations.
Aberystwyth is home to the University of Wales, and while students are a large part of the populace I never saw one cycling. The campus is on a hillside, along with the great library. Best transport there: feet.
During those days in Wales I mixed country walks (and some muddy, trail-free forest slogging in search of 18th-century traces of my mother’s family) with country rides. This time, Google maps was more-correct in its warnings about hills.
At one point, I was carrying my bike up a long hillside stair – it was the only way, no simple path. I was asked about it by a passerby coming down the stair: why are you doing this?
They assured me: “There’s Nowhere to Ride Up There!”
I guess they never tried?
Chokepoint
My return to London contained a double challenge: 32C temperatures (the annual high) combined with the Crowdstrike bug, which I hadn’t known about until it halted our train from Birmingham, as rail crews busied themselves repeatedly turning on and off the power of a rail switch until they gave up and set the switch manually to at least let one train pass.
Another bike ride from Euston to Paddington stations, but this time to drop off the bike and case etc at Paddington’s Left-Baggage office while I enjoyed having dinner and a chat with a friend and colleague nearby.
Traffic at Paddington was slow, which proved to be a good thing. They need to scan each bag, airport-style, before storage. But:
The bike and bag did not fit into the scanner.
Thankfully the fellow working the evening shift was patient and funny and willing to wait for me to disassemble the whole business while he scanned each bit individually, then watched me re-assemble the whole case from the scanned parts, there in the office.
The Crowdstrike bug had likewise paralyzed computerized payment systems, and I couldn’t fetch a cab via London’s FreeNow app since they couldn’t connect my Visa card – time for The Tube.
After a fine dinner with my friend, the next bit of traveling was an unremarkable zip back to Paddington, then to LHR, a shuttle to my hotel, sleep, back to LHR – bag pre-check worked almost too well (I had to scramble to get the rollers into the Vincita before it was whisked away), various in-flight movies (always watched without sound – I enjoy seeing the weird combination of multiple films watched by various neighbors).
At SFO, while I had prepared to ride back via the airporter, no need: See See arrived with the Subaru and in an hour: home.
People are Good
I lost two key items during this little trip, and both of them were returned through the help of kind anonymous people.
The Gear Part: Hints and Screwups
Vincita Sightseer
I like this bag a lot. Toward the end of the trip, I realized that the best way to use the outer strap, when stuffing the bag while riding, is lengthwise, at right angles to the direction you should use it when the bike’s inside. This holds-down the ends of the bag, keeping it neat while you’re riding.
It’s possible to mount the Vincita on the front bracket of a Brompton, but that space was in use by my camera bag - and as the illustration above shows, the Wotancraft frame is small. Too small? I don’t know.
As mentioned earlier, it’s a safe idea to take the bike’s seat off when flying with the Vincita. Wrap the seat in a plastic bag and push an old tennis ball onto the exposed seat post. This protects your seat, clothes, and luggage.
When the bike is packed, there are some open spaces inside along the bottom, near the tires, that can carry extra shoes (and a tennis ball). Multiple bags of Hula Hoop crisps can also be safely placed there.
Edirol Audio Recorder
I like recording and long ago had replaced my Edirol with a more-capable but larger/heavier Hero recorder. For this trip I went back to the old Edirol mostly for the weight, despite the slightly-lower quality and the fact that it can’t accept SD cards larger than 2GB (good luck finding a new card that size!). But there’s been a boost: I’ve been using Adobe Premiere’s AI-based audio cleanup tools and they are stellar. It was a hunch, but I’m pretty sure the final processed quality of the audio tracks will be excellent.
The Edirol’s big failing, of course, is memory. I kept myself to very short clips because when recording buskers or traffic etc, “typical” and distinctive city sounds, I regularly hit the “memory is full” warning. Maybe I should scrounge EBay for some more 2GB cards.
Noice-Cancelling Headphones – Not Earbuds
Over-ear noise-cancelling headphones are great on any flight, even if no music is playing. The noise reduction alone is great for sleeping. The Sennheisers also have a small cord for use with the Edirol.
But also earbuds – I used them when riding, mostly for getting navigation instructions.
Bike Clothes and Tools
Amazingly, I never did wear any of the cycle-sport kit that had been packed and dutifully stashed in the Vincita. Instead I stuck with hiking gear, repeatedly washed in hotel sinks.
I have no idea why I brought an extra Tefal tire pump, when the one already attached to the Brompton is faster. An old habit, I suppose.
Zojirushi Water Bottle
Their flip-top bottles remain the best! The area touching your lips is always covered and clean. The size is easy to hold. The lock works, ensuring no leaks (important for a bottle stored on a camera bag). The temperature stability is far superior to others I’ve tested.
Camera and iPad
The iPad-only setup worked really well. I added the iSH shell app, which allowed me to verrrry slowly use my regular python-based kbImport downloader tool, writing the results to a Samsung SSD connected to the iPad.
Inateck’s USB-C hub is one of very few that give you a fully-functional powered USB-C port on one side of the hub. I could simultaneously connect an SD card and the SSD to the iPad while charging, and also while charging my phone or headphones or a camera battery from the same hub.
I apologize to hotels and their wi-fi systems: after saving all pictures and audio files to the SSD each night, before sleeping I’d also start all those gigabits copying to iCloud. This gave me a three-way backup: the original SD card (the tiny audio recorder required daily flushing, but my camera cards are large), the SSD, and iCloud.
This diligence paid off, after I left my iPad on the train when returning to London (cheers to the anonymous person who later turned it in at Euston Station!). All my data was safe.
Initially, my data-backup plan had been to share the files to Google Drive rather than iCloud. This mostly worked, but some files would fail to copy. Google would tell me “some files have failed” but not which files, which was unacceptable. Using iCloud was superior.
I also considered, and even tried, sending backup data directly to my California-based Synology NAS – moderately reliable but lead-footedly slow. The files need to pass through the slow hotel network and ISP, across the internet, then back to my slow home ISP. Using iCloud included only one slow route.
Once back in California, all iCloud files could be copied to the NAS if needed.
In this case, in the end there was no need for the cloud backup – I’d lost track of the iPad for a bit, but not the SSD! Everything was completely ready for use and the internet backup wasn’t needed – this time. The cloud backup meant peace of mind.
As for camera gear: I could have left the 90mm lens and its finder in California. I rarely use them, I had no expected need for them, and in the end only used them because I foolishly felt I ought to – that is, the “Sunk-Cost Fallacy.” Unsurprisingly, almost all of the photos I made while traveling used an everyday 50mm.
Midori A6 Notepad
After using Moleskine and Traveller’s Company notebooks for many years, the switch to Midori A6 was prompted in large part by Wotancraft. A larger-then-Moleskine A6 notebook will fit in either Wotancraft’s rectangular zip pouch or the back pocket of a small Wotancraft Pilot bag. It’s the largest notebook that’s small enough, and Midori’s quality is top. I like using these notebooks with the simple paper cover, which is light, durable, and inexpensive.
You can also write on that cover – I mistakenly left my notebook in the library of the Huis Marseille Museum of Photography, and they were able to call me right back to fetch it thanks to the scrawled-but-somehow-readable email address.
Other Stupid Oversights
I forgot to pack a blower bulb for lens and sensor cleaning. Sure enough, dust eventually fell on my sensor and I had to live with it. I’d taken the bulb out to pack it, and yet… didn’t pack it. There are no camera shops in Aberystwyth.
Likewise, ready to pack but unpacked, any fountain pen. In this case, there are great stationers in Amsterdam and London. A moment of shopping, to find a very lightweight and inexpensive Kaweco.
Non-Stupid: at the last moment I deliberately left behind my small binoculars. Could I have looked at distant sheep? Maybe. The trip wasn’t lessened.
Items I Never Used But Was Glad I Had Them
Cable ties of different weights, both in my camera bag and in the backpack.
A length of gaffer tape, wrapped several layers thick around a pencil in my camera bag.
A 2-inch-wide USB-chargable Godox LEDM32 LED lamp.
Spare inner tube, lightweight “mechanic’s” gloves for clean hands, tool kit (okay, used one wrench for the seat).
Smaller and larger zip-lock bags.
An Oben tabletop tripod, similar to the classic Bogen one but made of aluminum so a fraction of the Bogen’s weight.
I didn’t need another cycling jacket – a Rapha soft-shell jacket was already packed. Never worn, but I hadn’t anticipated having an alternative choice. The jacket, like my small bike lock, stayed in the bag.
A first aid kit, including antacids. These were used, just not by me. The world was made better.