Ferg & my next stop in Europe was Ireland, where he was to be a groomsman at our friend Jack’s wedding (a separate post on our time at the wedding in Wicklow later! 💃🕺🪩). To get there with my bike, I flew from Warsaw to Dublin, biked from Dublin to Wicklow. I had considered overnight trains and ferries, but it would have taken over 2 days - which would have been a fun adventure in itself (much more fun than flying with a bike, probably), but I wanted to make the most of the travel times with Ferg.

In the spirit of including all parts of travel (and although you might not be the target audience, writing down tips for future cycle tourers), here’s how I got from central Warsaw to a rural Irish county with a bike in tow.

A lot of detail about packing a bike, when flying from Warsaw to Dublin with Ryanair

First we needed a bike box/bag for the plane. I had discarded the cardboard box I arrived in Europe with (obviously; I wasn’t going to be hauling that on my bike rides), so I needed to find another box. While you can get expensive specialised bike bags, they then have to be carried around during your travels (they’re too expensive to treat as disposable). For most bikepackers and cycle tourers, cardboard boxes are usually the way to go.

I visited three different bike shops within walking/tram distance from our Warsaw apartment. They were all friendly and willing to help (except Decathlon which was just big and corporate), but none had boxes available at that moment. Unfortunately our flight was the next morning and it would take time to pack, so it was pretty urgent. One shop said to contact a number (unclear who, Google Translate comms was failing; maybe a partnered bike workshop) who might have boxes available for us later this evening. Fortunately only an hour later, we got a WhatsApp message saying our boxes were ready for pickup from the same store. We took them on the tram then walked them home from the stop - fortunately they’re light since they’re empty!

I went to a huge hardware store (like Mitre 10) to buy rolls of duct tape. I also asked if I could take some discarded stretch wrap or bubble wrap. The hapless young man at the counter just bleated “we don’t really do that” and I only just stopped myself from rolling my eyes at him. Instead, I found a friendly old codger who did roll his eyes and took me to the skip out the back and let me take my fill.

Some long-haul flights on major carriers (Singapore, Emirates, Qantas, etc.) will allow bike boxes of any size, as long as it’s under the total weight limit. You can also usually have any number of checked bags as long as the combined total is under the limit, so on my way to Europe I sometimes checked in my other pannier which struggled to fit in the box. This depends on the carrier so make sure to check the fine print.

However, low-cost carriers like Ryanair make most of their money off baggage add-ons and fees, so I wanted to be absolutely sure that I wouldn’t be slapped with a huge fee for getting things wrong, or worse, not allowed on and miss my flight. I bought a bike slot as a separate luggage item.

Despite abundant research through their website, terms and conditions, and terrible customer service AI chatbot, it seems that Ryanair has no clear size limit on bike boxes, just a weight limit of 30 kg. This is problematic because most bike boxes are very big. Reading through online cycling forums, it looked like many other bikepackers were also confused about this. The best I found was a couple of comments saying that the size restriction depends on the size of the departure airport’s oversize luggage scanner. I couldn’t find any info on cyclists’ experiences at Warsaw Modlin airport, so I decided not to take any risks and cut the boxes down to 120cm on the longest side, which is Ryanair’s maximum length for normal luggage. However, this is not big enough for an adult bike. Fortunately I had booked a bike slot with Fergus’ plane seat too. I’m not sure what we would have done if Ferg had ended up bringing his bike - probably just risked it with two big boxes.

I had read some accounts saying that if you book a bike slot, it had to be a bike. Some even said they didn’t even let you include extra things in the box like panniers and clothes (which seems ridiculous, and doubtful; why would they care?). I had to split the bike parts between the two smaller boxes anyway, so I put the frame in one and the wheels in another, then stuffed the rest of our luggage in between, so I could at least argue that I had parts of a bike in each (none of this ended up mattering in my particular case).

After all this, I realised it might actually have been easier to just source regular-shaped large cardboard boxes (for a small dishwasher or something) rather than harder-to-find-than-expected bike boxes, especially since everything is quite well padded with bubble wrap and other soft luggage anyway. That could also be an option in future, rather than a specific bike-shaped box that’s might hit length limits.

Getting the boxes to the airport

Some cycle tourists strap a folded cardboard box to their rear rack, ride the bike to the airport, and do all the packing at the airport, thus saving on the cost and hassle of getting a heavy box to the airport (lots of taxis won’t be big enough). But that seemed way too stressful and risky (if anything didn’t work out and now you’re at an airport ages from the city), and I was with Ferg so it was well worth taxi-ing.

We booked an Uber XL, but what showed up was a Toyota Prius+ (a sedan 7-seater). It only just fit our two recently shortened boxes. So it was lucky we’d cut the boxes down, otherwise we would have been looking for a van on the morning of our flight.

Flying sucks

Other airport shenanigans:

• Spelt my name wrong in my booking (“JENY” can you believe it) so it didn’t match my passport (it was fine)

• Forgot to remove large liquids from carry-on (it was fine, everything was under 100 ml)

• Forgot to consider whether camera film is better in hand-carry or check-in (it was fine; turns out hand-carry is better because the scanners aren’t as powerful and are less likely to damage photos, and luckily I had left it in my hand-carry).

• Fergus paid 30zl (15 NZD) for a terrible monopolised coffee in the waiting area after passport check i.e. no way out.Fergus speculated that the pricing could be a social experiment. “How desperate do you think people are for coffee, 30 zl? Nah mate, that’s crazy… but let’s try it”

• Was so excited to fill my drink bottle from a filter thingy after paying for bottled water for the past week, but of course there wasn’t one.

This has deepened my view that planes are a 0 star experience that is rarely worth the hassle when alternatives are available (of which there are usually none in NZ, because our politics is short-sighted and because we are an island; but plenty in Europe). Consider:

• 1 hour to get to airport

• 3 hours faffing at airport and buying $15 coffee and paying for water after tipping out your water

• 3 hours flight

• 1 hour waiting to disembark, collect bag, customs, immigration

• 1 hour getting from airport waiting for uber/bus/train and dealing with traffic.

• 9 hours total + an entire day of my holiday with Fergus spent looking for bike boxes and packing them. I might as well have taken the overnight trains and ferries!

This has strengthened my preference for travelling shorter distances (less energy/fuel/emissions, time, and attention cost) and staying in places for longer. As Fergus eloquently stated:

[Flying] is a hostile, shitty, uncompromising experience where everyone acts like you’re a potential terrorist.

^ and that’s without even the added disadvantages of being brown, where you’re way more likely to get “randomly checked”!

Fergus would like to mention that we did have an exceptionally compassionate and patient experience with Ryanair check-in lady.

Maybe flying should be a big deal, it should be difficult and have lots of hurdles - not because of threats to national security, but because of the enormous emissions cost. So maybe the worse the customer experience, the better for the environment.

Biking from Dublin airport to Wicklow along the eastern coast of Ireland

The 3 hour flight sped by because I was just in a personal horror bubble, utterly gripped by the memoir “Careless People” by Sarah Wynn-Williams, a former Christchurch lawyer and UN Diplomat turned Director of Policy at Facebook - highly recommend. I shook myself out once landed in Dublin and collected the bike boxes at oversize luggage claim with no issues. Like the true teacher’s pet nerd that I am, I learnt some Irish travel phrases and tried them out (“Dia dhuit!”, “Go raibh maith agat!”), but was stonewalled. The immigration officer probably not the best person to try this on.

Dublin airport was relatively small and very busy. We found a spot outside around the pickup zone, squeezed up against the wall as best we could, and we set about putting the bike together. It was much faster than the 1.5 hours it took me alone in Frankfurt, both because Ferg was helping and because I was much more familiar with my bike’s bits. An airport worker also showed us where we could leave our discarded bike boxes, which felt much better than just ditching them.

In a great coincidence, Jack’s auntie and uncle had arrived at the airport at basically the same time for their bikepacking trip! After messaging, we realised we’d been setting up our bikes just around the corner from each other. Ferg set off to catch a bus down to Wicklow, and I joined Margo and Chris on their big hard-tail mountain bikes for a ride down to Wicklow Country.

Margo and Chris have a lot of experience bikepacking. Margo had biked around Turkey with two other girl friends in her early 20s. They had also done the Tour Aotearoa (biking the length of NZ, very gnarly in parts). I let them take the lead - it was nice just following and not having to think about navigation!

My initial burst of enthusiasm from being back on the bike (and this time in a biker gang, whoo!) was quickly tempered. For the first hour of our ride, the sky alternated every ten minutes, very abruptly, between deluge and sun. Locals seemed unfazed, so I decided to also be. Also, getting out of Dublin was pretty average, but by now I’ve realised this is just the reality of biking in a city with average cycling infrastructure. I didn’t see much of Dublin, and didn’t want to judge it based on the little I’d passed through (which looked a bit sad and grim to be honest).

A local cyclist stopped and showed us a cycleway that would take us basically halfway via parks and green spaces, marked by little green shamrocks on the ground. We followed these through sports fields and residential parks, then followed another subsequent route that Local Cyclist had shown us down to the seaside town of Bray.

In Bray we had a much-needed snack in the form of crepes and waffles, then it was winding rural back roads and the occasional cycleways near villages, all the way down to Wicklow and through to the village of Ashford where we would all be staying. It had taken 60 km and 5.5 hours from the airport - slow at the start with all the route-finding getting out of Dublin, then going quite a pace. I was noticeably slower than Margo and Chris on the downhills with their heavy setups (they had not only camping gear but cooking gear too).

Finally we rolled into the local inn at Ashford. Hugs all around with Jack’s family, and I found Ferg at a table with the other groomsmen and remnants of what looked like a hearty dinner. There were empty Guinness glasses all around - of course, we were in Ireland! Fergus had thoughtfully ordered me some food/saved me some dinner (kitchen was now closed) consisting of one (1) side of mashed potatoes. I ended up finishing off all the uneaten food off everyone else’s plates.

It was Tuesday evening, and the wedding was coming up on Saturday. It would be all hands on deck between now and then, and we were all excited to get stuck in. Being with all these familiar faces from New Zealand in such an antipodean location felt quite surreal!

More bike stuff down here for those interested:

Warsaw Modlin oversize luggage scanner notes:

The 120cm length boxes were fine getting through the oversize scanners at Warsaw Modlin. The bike went in lying flat with the longest side parallel to the direction of the scanning, so I don’t think it would have mattered how long the box had been. However, the width (i.e. the height of the bike box when standing up) was almost maxed out - if the bike box had been 10 cm taller, I don’t think it would have fit. And it wasn’t a very tall bike box, it was for a Small sized bike. Maybe they have another way to scan bigger things, I don’t know. Argh!

BYO bike seems like a faff. Why don’t you just rent/buy a bike once you’re over there?

Great question! It’s actually a very fair toss-up with pros and cons of each.

BYO bike:

• Pros: You know your bike will work for you, fit you perfectly (I spent months trialling and looking for the perfect saddle; let alone pedals, pannier bags, etc.), and if there are any mechanical failures, you’re familiar with how to fix it. Plus you might have a bike that’s much nicer than ones that you can rent economically. It’s also great to just have a bike in random places, like rural Ireland or central Warsaw, where I’m definitely not going to fork out to rent a bike, but it’s so much nicer exploring a place by bike and you see so much more. I think this is the major advantage - you see so much more of a place when cycling than if you were walking (don’t cover as much), or driving/bussing/flying (cover too much to process/notice). Trains are like buses yes, but crucially differ in that they run along traintracks, which tend to go through lovely rural country rather than superhighways so the view out the window is very nice (and they’re more comfortable). Lastly, I am emotionally attached to my bike and I love it.

• Cons: All the faff and extra costs that kinda add up (I was paying for bike storage at airports during stopovers where I wasn’t taking my own bike; travel insurance bike add-on is another $100 or so; hiring an Uber XL to the airport is more expensive than a normal Uber or of course public transport; it costs time to pack/unpack/find bike boxes etc.). Also, the fear of bike theft can be very annoying and limits your ability to do things - as I write this from a cafe in Bruges, I have managed to lock my bike directly within my line of sight outside the window, but this is rare, and I keep looking up nervously whenever anyone passes it. I have bike travel insurance but still, it would really ruin my day if my beloved bike and all my gear that I’d painstakingly curated got taken.

Rent or buy & sell/donate:

• Pros: No faff at either end of your trip, no extra added costs like bike insurance or paying for storage etc.

• Cons: Costs money to rent, there’s not always point-to-point rentals available (although quite available in Europe), limited choice, the bike fit might not be great which can lead to pain/injury over long distances (this one is pretty major if you’re doing longer than a few days), there’s still the risk of bike theft (or gear theft of the stuff attached to it).

I think in future, if I’m cycling for less than a week, I probably wouldn’t take my bike. Renting bikes for the stopover in Vietnam had definitely been the right call with the shorter timeframe and therefore limited route options. But for this longer stay in Europe, I’m glad I have my own bike for both the long distances and also the little bits in between like tootling around an old town, or getting to see a bit more of Ireland by biking between the airport and the wedding.