A Very Modern Odyssey Continued
If you missed part 1 of the article you can read it here.
BY PERCY CLARKE
Another week and another couple of borders were crossed. Foolishly we left Vienna without a map and so found ourselves on the wrong side of the Danube without a bridge in sight. Consequently we had to follow a main road towards Bratislava, underestimated the time it would take to cycle between the cities, and had to camp for the night under the flight path of Vienna’s airport. Still, we made it in the end and had a pleasant afternoon in Bratislava the following day. We used the last of our German-bought alcohol fuel to fry some sausages on the Trangia and have had no luck replacing it in Eastern Europe despite repeated attempts in several camping stores. It has begun to get very cold at night in our tents. My sleeping bag just wasn’t keeping me warm, Rhys had the same problem with his so we have invested in enormous and warm new ones which should see us safely through the Carpathians and out blinking into the light of the Turkish plains.
Have finished ‘The Life and Times of Thunderbolt Kid‘ by Bill Bryson, fantastic read, highly recommended. I am now on to ‘A Spot of Bother‘, the new book from the Author of ‘The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time’, another great read. We have spent the afternoon in the bath house here in Pest with some new friends from the Hostel – so relaxing and welcome after cycling. Tomorrow (or perhaps the day after) we head south with our friend the Danube to Serbia. Health good and spirits running high.
We made it to Belgrade. Budapest was wonderful. If you are ever there I can highly recommend the Backpacker Hostel if you are looking to meet a lively crowd, have access to an extensive DVD collection, and gain the use of a homely kitchen. This was our base for a few days and from here we were able to rest and recuperate whilst absorbing as much of the city as our over-stimulated minds could take in. It truly is wonderful – the view from the Capital hill at night is breathtaking! I really feel that this journey could happily be spread over a year, two years, more, without it getting tired.
I bought a new odometer in an enormous Tesco of all places. They are all over the place in Hungary and put those back in Blighty to shame; were you that way inclined you could live in one for want of nothing but a reason to live. With the Tesco Value cycle computer strapped to my steed we set off for the border. It is set up in km now so converting distances is no longer a headache and the speed looks a lot faster! It took us three a
nd a half days to cover the distance of nigh on 400km between Budapest and Belgrade. We went wild camping in some fairly unusual places due to the lack of camping sites but, even if they were about, it’s more fun doing it this way. As a result we got the Trangia cooking down to a T. We frequently spent an hour over breakfast too; living in a field or forest really isn’t so bad if you are met in the morning with brilliant sunshine streaming through pine trees, or a clear blue sky, and can enjoy it all with hot tea, bacon and eggs.
We were now on larger roads. The traffic was more than bearable and the Serbs seem to be fairly considerate drivers. Of course you do get the occasional nutter tearing past you at 500mph in a truck designed by some dutiful communist but that was always going to be the case. The transition had been gradual but now the world is a very different place. Many of the cars in rural areas are older than me and are, much like my bicycle, held together with duct tape. Strangely enough it seems the roadkill has changed too. It is odd the things you notice when looking at acres of road flopping around in front of you but where, for example, German drivers enjoy running over squirrels and pheasants, we have seen at least three dead cats and two dead dogs on Serbian roads. Francis suggested we try cooking one. I hope he was joking.
Belgrade is a mysterious, chaotic, and beautiful city. We had a delicious meal in a nice restaurant overlooking the famous (or infamous) Hotel Moscow before struggling for what seemed like hours in the cold dark of the Serbian night to find a place to stay. We did, however, and it is proving to be a fine find. The hostel is called The 3 Black Catz and has a bath. Yes, that’s right, a bath!! Mmmm, nice. Needless to say that after said bath (one of the few things we decided not to share on this trip) we all went and got drunk on Rakije and beer in a bar with friendly staff.
We then had a successful last few days which has seen us from Belgrade to Sofia in good time. We left Belgrade with the knowledge that we would not be seeing a bed or shower until we reached the Bulgarian capital and this no doubt spurred us on somewhat. It has been a longwhile since we saw, let alone used, a campsite and so we’ve been forced to seek refuge in some unusual places; one such spot was atop a hill with an amazing panorama encompassing mountains on all sides and with a good view of the Serbian – Bulgarian border through which we had just passed. The view was impressive in the morning, to throw back the door of the tent to see beauty in the morning light, nice. It has begun to get oh so cold. We kept warm on our bikes due to the motion but hands and toes freeze. On a bike one’s toes rarely move so that when they get wet they just sit there with a chill wind on them growing ever further from your possession. Still, the sleeping bag does the trick and, after much drying, re-socking, and wiggling they rejoin bodily society.
And then we arrived in Sofia. A shambolic yet intriguing city in which I’d love to be able to spend more time. Our first night here saw us visiting a yummy Bulgarian restaurant to get a taste for the cuisine. We also used the opportunity to wash ourselves and our clothes, not sure which was in greater need but several countries have come and gone since the latter had a real going over. It is difficult to stay on top of these things from day to day when living in a tent but at least we only stand to offend each other and that isn’t likely to happen through the medium of smell. Our suspicion that it was cold was confirmed in the most blatant of ways when, whilst enjoying a beer in the capital, we looked outside to see big, fat snowflakes falling by on the street outside. This carried on for hours until all the cars had an inch of snow on them. It was rather fun but we were ever so glad not to be on the bikes in such a wintry offering. We are told it is just a spell and that the weather will improve shortly; I just hope the weather folk here are more reliable than those back in Blighty. We had about 700km left until reaching Istanbul. Exciting stuff to say the least.
Happy days. We had arrived! We pushed on fast from Sofia, all of us keen to arrive in Istanbul and enjoy some time out of the saddle. We passed through Plovdiv and Svilengrad making it to the Turkish border in two days. The roads were good and the wind occasionally in our favour so we were able to clock up average speeds of 25kmh over long days during which we covered an average of 140km. Our final border came and went without mishap and we passed through it with a Swiss cyclist also on his way to Istanbul. We were in Turkey, the sun was shining and the roads were well paved and reasonably quiet. We struck out and made it to within a day’s ride from our destination. Our final day started uniquely with us separated. We were cycling along with about 30mins between us when, on a difficult part of road, I noticed a 6ft long pitchfork a split second before my front wheel hit it at some speed. There was no time to react, my bike stopped instantly, the full weight of my loaded bike flipped over and I planted the ground with my arms and chin. Jumping up, furious with the bastard farmer who left it there, and myself for not noticing it, I saw that it had ripped my beautiful custom-made wheel to bits, 15 spokes snapped and the rim buckled beyond repair. The story has a happy ending which serves as a testament to the kindness of the Turks and the mercy of God, but dear readers you will have to wait another time for that; Istanbul awaits…
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