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I’ve been in Romania for nearly two weeks now. It was a bit mad going North when the weather is getting wintery.  My sensible side was telling me to go South before it gets too cold but I doggedly refuse to listen to it.

I wanted  to see  the Danube Delta. Having seen the river  being born in the Black Forest and followed its course through several countries,  I wanted to get to where it meets the Black Sea. 

But there was more to Romania for me.  There is the language too.  I was told that it is accessible to Spanish speakers and I was looking forward to being able to talk to people I meet along the way.  One of the things I’ve found the hardest is my inability  to communicate properly. I use sign language in shops,  markets and cafes and when asking for directions and that is OK,  but I miss having proper conversations. More and more I’m coming to realise that this inability to communicate will be the most challenging part of my trip. 

Meeting my friend Carol,  staying with some pretty special people and arriving in the Black Sea have been the highlights of Bulgaria.

Carol came over to Plovdiv,  the second biggest cit in Bulgaria.  We chose it because it was in the right place and we just liked the sound of its name. We spent a lovely   week together exploring the old town,  visiting Monasteries in the nearby mountains,  going to the Opera in the old Roman theater,  ambling in gardens,  drinking coffee in small cafés,  having leisurely breakfast in  the balcony of our apartment and talking,  talking.

Bulgaria has been the country in which I’ve ventured into Couchsurfing.  What a discovery! I have met the most generous,  kind people  who bought echinacea for me when they saw I had a terrible chesty cold,  cooked a  delicious BBQ and showed me some amazing sites.

My favourite site was this incredible concrete communist monument in Varna at the top of a hill.  The entrance was bricked in but someone had knocked some of the bricks off. Tienne,  my couchsurfing host and I, armed with torches climbed in. The inside was a maze of stairs, rooms and corridors,  some covered with graffiti . Nothing was  at a straight angle,  Here and there were openings to the outside letting in the grey light of the day. At some point we discovered we weren’t alone  as smoke  started to come up from the basement rooms.  We decided it was better to leave before we had an unwelcomed encounter.

I’ve had a great time in Bulgaria and I’ll be back when on my way to Greece once I’ve explored a bit more of Romania.

 

 

 

 

Foxtrot and I crossed the border into Hungary!  I was not quite sure what to expect.  I am aware that  I am getting further and further away from familiar territory now and I have all sort of pictures in my head about the countries, pictures influenced by my education and the media.  All my stereotypes are slowly dissolving away and it feels good.

I have loved Hungary.  The villages are prosperous with water points everywhere,  the woods feel friendlier and more gentle than those in Germany or Slovakia,  the small roads I ride on are well paved,  drivers are considerate,  people are really friendly and the weather has continued to be kind to me.

In Budapest I was joined by two friends and had a special few days  visiting  the sites and enjoying  a whole day in some beautiful thermal baths all in the company of my gorgeous friends.  To top it all up, I was able to enjoy the luxurious floor of their 5* hotel room,  the fluffy towels and hair conditioner. What a difference from the bedbug infested hostel I had booked myself in.

From Budapest it was lake Balaton,  thermal villages,  swimming among waterlilies,  meeting the Danube again and  staying with truly special Warmshowers hosts on my way to Serbia 

A few people are asking me about my days and the kit so let’s start with food!

Tomorrow  will be two months that I’m on the road and the days are developing some sort of rhythm.  I wake up early and faff around quite a lot. Those of you who know me well,  will be able to tell that I am a morning ‘faffer’.

Coffee comes first,  I make a whole flask of it and sip it slowly whilst writing my journal or deciding where to aim for that day.  After coffee l take down the tent and pack the bike.  No matter how much I try (and really I don’t try very hard!) this process never takes less than one hour or one hour and a half,  by which time I am ready for breakfast!

I take to the road and after a while I start thinking about what food to cook in the evening.  Funny how the basics take so much headspace when there in nothing else to clatter your day. I always try to have enough food with me to last me a couple of days just in case.  Shopping is easy.  I park the bike outside the shop,  lock it up and go in.  To start with I was nervous to leave EVERYTHING unguarded outside but as another bike tourer told me,  who is going to want to take a heavy monster of a bike for a joy ride? Now I trust that all will be OK and no one will touch my belongings and so far so good.

At some point I get peckish and it is time for an energy bar only that my energy bars take the shape of whatever the local bakers produce,  in Germany and Austria they were mainly big pieces of cheesecake,  in Slovakia some cheese filled pastries and here in Hungary I  devoured the chocolate variety.  At the end of the day I enjoy cooking my evening meal as I always did at home. My stove is brilliant and I am making all sort of things: lentils (which I put to soak in the morning), chicken stews, curries, paella, pasta – you name it!

More about kit next time!

 

 

 

I had a few days before my friend Babs joined me to go hiking together in the Tatry.  I decided to head North and follow the Slovakia section of the Iron Curtain Eurovelo 13 which follows the river Morave from Bratislava to the Czech border.   It was a different world from the well trodden Rhine and Danube cycle trails.

From Bratislava I went to a nearby small village called Devin, obviously thriving,  with art galleries and wine cellars.  This changed the further I went, from the capital to empty small villages with one tiny shop which  had hardly anything on it and huge forests untouched by humans for over half a century. 

 Left over signs of what it must’ve been like where dotted all over the landscape –  bunkers and memorials to those who fought for change.  I kept on thinking about what those majestic trees must’ve seen and I longed for them to tell me the story. 

Memorials to the First World War where also everywhere.   I found the one in Hor Oresăny particularly moving.  I sat by it for a while thinking about the young men in the photos that never came back to their village and wondering when we will learn the lessons of history.

I  had my first wild camp experience on this trail. I went down what  I thought to be a small road, instead it was a sandy track that went through the middle of a huge acacia forest. It was getting late so I camped in a small clearing. There were hardly any sounds but as night started to fall,  the place filled up with the noise of thousands of  insects.  I felt a bit apprehensive,  there is something about forests that I find unnerving. In my sleep bag I used all kind of techniques to try to relax but my ears refused to switch off attentive to the smallest of sounds. Finally I went to sleep only to be woken up shortly after by the sound of movement and breathing by the tent. I laid very still scared to move whilst my imagination went wild. It was a very long night and in the morning I saw the footprints of what must’ve been deer not  to far from the tent. It would have been so much better if I hadn’t been on my own! 

It was exciting meeting Babs and together we headed for the Tatry.  Tatranska Magistrala,  there was something about the name that I found irresistible when in London and it didn’t let me down . The hike was tiring but pretty wonderful,  striking mountains,  wildlife,  flowers, staying in mountain huts…   I was in my element,  after all mountains are my first big love.

Then,  sadly,  it was time to say goodbye to Babs and collect Foxtrot who’d been resting for a few days. My next port of call was  Spišský Castle,  one of the largest castles in Eastern Europe. An impressive sight siting on a hill rising above the plain of Western Slovakia.

From its ramparts I could see the hills I’d cycled over and the ones to come as I head for Hungary for my next rendezvous with friends in Budapest.

 

 

 

Soon after the last post I met my friends Iñaki and Mariaje and their son Eñaut.  We’ve known each other since the mid seventees.  We don’t see each other often,  them being in the Basque country and me in London,   but when we do it is like if we had been together the day before. I love it when it is like that.

It was a treat being with them.  I got a holiday from the panniers which allowed us to do longer distances and have time for talking,  sightseeing,  cake eating,  swimming, more talking,  drinking AND they brought all sort of Spanish delicacies that were eagerly consumed. We also discovered that cheesecake is as effective as energy bars and way more enjoyable. 

I had some time off the bike in rural Austria and in Vienna with some good friends of Iñaki and Mariaje. They took us to really special places – a lake with pity black water and an old fashion spa where you swam in mineral water that gets bottled in the plant next door! Places I would not have been able to find on my own. 

We parted this morning and for a bit I felt a bit lost and lonely and now here I am sitting in a hostel bed in Bratislava.

I can’t believe I’ve made it to Eastern Europe.  This afternoon I crossed the point where the heavily garded Iron Curtain was. Now it is just a rusting blue gate that is always open.  From the road in Austria you can see Bratislava with its castle on top of the hill and I wondered what it must have been like for people in both sides so close to one another and at the same time so far.

I went wondering around Bratislava this evening.  The old town and the castle are beautiful.  The place is full of cafes with people sitting outside trying to cool down,  not surprising as it has been very very hot,  over 40 centigrade at lunchtime.  Luckily I’m heading for the Tatra mountains to do some walking with a friend from Bristol who is coming out to meet me.  Lucky me!

After Strasbourg I went in search of the source of the Danube in the Black Forest, next to a small chappel called Martinskapelle. I was a bit nervous because it was going to be my first encounter with hills and I didn’t know how me and Foxtrot would manage.

I was a bit lighter though, as the second parcel had been sent home from Strasbourg with more things that I thought I would need. It felt liberating to let go of things that anchored to my ‘normal’ life.

For the first time that day I felt a bit apprehensive. I was leaving the security of the guide book and the well trodden path and finding my own way across the Black Forest.

Before I got to the big hills, I stopped at a tiny campsite that couldn’t be more different from the one in Strasbourg. Instead of the customer-care-trained-receptionists in their ‘casual’ uniform, I was greeted by an older woman with painted nails and full make up, dressed in a fleece with prints of howling wolfs. I instantly knew which campsite I preferred.

The first climb WAS hard but both the bike and I survived it and I was elated when I got to the top. It was there,  where I met Helfried, another cyclist on a day out and we quickly got into quite profound conversation. I am slowly getting used to the deep conversations that happen in those brief encounters on the road.

The downhill was exhilarating but not as much as the cake I gave myself as a reward for the climb.

I spent that night in a youth hostel all on my own. A huge rambling building full of noises. I was seriously creeped out and was grateful for the nature documentaries in my tablet that took my mind of Hitchcock  type murders.

The Danube is very beautiful, forest of deciduous trees, tall cathedral spires, nature reserves, big rocky outcrops, campsites in working farms… Life continues to be good.

For the past three weeks and nearly 900 km I have been following the Rhine and the river has shown me some of its many faces.  All the branches at its delta in the Netherlands,  where between polders and dykes it was hard for me to recognise it as a river and the very industrial section that followed. The section between Bon and Mainz was a box of surprises with its steep wooded banks and castles and pointed church spires in every turn and with it’s legends of fair maidens being betrayed and seeking revenge and greedy Bishops being punished.

Germany is a cyclist’s dream.  Wonderful cycle paths take you away from the traffic,  following the many turns of the Rhine,  crossing through fields of yellow wheat moving in the wind like waves ,  entering cool woodlands where the sunlight filtering through the leaves is magical,  meandering through quiet streets where people go about their lives. And I’m soaking it all in. 

Mainz had a real treat in store,  a church full of Chagall’s windows where I was for nearly an hour just sitting and looking at them. 

I am slowly relaxing into the rithm of the road.  I have even managed a couple of siestas, on very hot days.  It is great to be able to do exactly as you please like the Sunday when I was attracted by the sound of church bells in a beautiful village called Eltville.  I followed the sound and ambling through the village found myself in a beautiful walled garden in full bloom.  That evening I had a delicious glass of Riesling,  perfect end for the day

I’m now in Strasbourg .  My first big milestone reached,  I am ready to leave the Rhine and through the Black Forest seek the source of the Danube that will take me towards the Black Sea and another continent.

That was the common answer when asking for directions in Holland and I did, I followed many dykes,  some where the right ones and others took me nowhere. To start with I didn’t even know which were the dykes but soon got it and all was well…

Route finding is time consuming but satisfying,  each of those ‘wrong’  turns bring surprises,  a lush garden,  unexpected conversations,  peaceful countryside,  a fairground inside a nuclear power station.  Slowly,  following the wrong turns I’ve made it to Koln.

The first night I stayed with the most wonderful Warmshowers hosts.  They were incredibly open and generous,  they gave me not only a place to sleep but great tips,  sound advice and human warmth.  Exactly what I needed on my first day.  It was a good omen. 

I have been through some very beautiful places already but as ever what makes it all worth it is the people. The students I stayed with on the second night,  the fleeting conversation with the young couple in the ferry crossing the Rhine,  the two cyclists on their way to Rome,  the 68 year old French woman who cycles over 70km a say,  the young woman in the youth hostel who invited me to her house,  the German CEO of an international company with whom I talked about dreams and Séneca under a bridge in Dusseldorf and the young gypsy (his words) lad who gave me a plateful of sausages last night in the campsite because I looked tired. 

And now,  I am sitting by the cathedral in Köln soaking up the atmosphere and listening to soothing classical music.  This is the life!!

 

 

 

Farewells completed, house handed over to my daughter Amaya and her partner John, bike packed, ferry booked. All that remains is to start pedalling: day one of many.

What am I feeling?

I am excited, slightly apprehensive, sad in the knowledge that I will be away from the people I love, thrilled to be doing something I really want to do, moved by the support and generosity of so many people. And much, much more that can´t be put into words.

Today’s plan is to cycle over to my bike shop, say goodby to Paul and team and meet my friend Jackie who is going to cycle some of the way to Harwich with me. At the end of the day, my intention is to settle in the ferry with a glass of Rioja, or two, before retiring to my cabin for a good night sleep (I hope!)…