Not sure if I did the right thing today. I had heard that the route from Gyor was much easier on the Slovakian side of the Danube, so I set off on a 10KM detour back on myself up the main route 14 or E575 which was unsettling due to the super huge lorries that came up behind you, leaving only a few cm between you and them. The road surface was OK but it was narrow in parts and I found myself peddling furiously to get as much distance covered before another truck whistled by. I arrived at Vámosszabadi border control station, an abandoned, unmanned grey and foreboding structure that I could imagine was very menacing when it had guards there. I had read that there was an overcrowded refugee centre nearby and google maps didn't work for a small section around this area. I was glad to be able to pass through it.
I was not feeling at all safe and took a slight right down a quieter road, but it went nowhere, so back onto the main road I went. I really didn't like these trucks at all. I crossed over back over the Danube on an old fashioned green iron bridge, full of character. As I turned right and started following the course of the Donau and things got much better.
The road surface was smooth as followed the river for several KMS. It was fairly overcast and at one point, it looked as though it would start pouring it down. I stopped for a moment to take in the view over towards the Monoštor Bridge and then I noticed a plaque to victims of the Holocaust that had been shot into the Danube during World War II and once again, I felt so grateful that was not alive at those times. To add to the atmosphere, I spied a couple of guys in military uniform looking at me from behind a wire fence which was a bit unsettling.
Along with the smooth surface there was a strong tailwind so I covered the distance in no time and stopped off at Komárno for a coffee.
I was in two minds, the current surface was such a joy to cycle although the view was a bit boring and samey. I had read that the village of Süttő was very pretty and there was a gorgeous looking campsite on the way, but this would mean crossing back over into Hungary. In the end I opted for the more interesting sounding route via Hungary, so crossed back over the rather impressive green riveted Elizabeth Bridge with its decorative lamps at each end.
And then, just in case I was feeling homesick, there was a bloody great big Tesco superstore.
I also came across an electronics store, which was useful as I needed to buy some additional assorted cables which were unbelievably cheap and then and set off down the main route 1.
I passed by the decommissioned vast aluminium factory at Almásfüzitő which for decades had been the pride of Communist Eastern Europe, employing thousands and which closed its doors in the 1990s.
It was now just a decrepit eyesore with massive tanks full of toxic red sludge resembling a Martian landscape, and all of this poisonous gloop just waiting for some catastrophic event to leak out and causing untold environmental damage, as had indeed happened back in 2010 with a similar decommissioned metal processing plant in southern Hungary.
Such an extraordinary eyesore, complete with heroic soviet frieze above the main entrance, harking back to its glory days as a masterpiece of Communist productivity.
As I took pictures, a security guard came out and told me to move off. It felt like a real statement of the fall of the Soviet Bloc.
However these lorries were getting pretty scary. They roared up behind and were so tall, that they sucked you under as they thundered past. At one point I got off to answer the call of nature and as I got back on, six of the massive monsters all roared past and the turbulence they caused cumulatively would definitely have pulled me under. I spent the next bit of my trip always looking over my shoulder to see when the next one was coming and then just preparing myself for the physical assault.
However my next campsite was not far away and it had great reviews. I stopped off for some langos, a yeasted fried bread covered in cheese, garlic, and sour cream typical of Hungary. It was filling, nice and unhealthy, but who cares.
As I entered the campsite, I exhaled deeply with a sigh of relief to be off the roads. The place was stunning, and very cheap. It was also practically empty and I set up the tent in a serene spot overlooking the Danube. It was like wild camping but with a shower block nearby.
As I set up home, I realised how much I actually missed sleeping out in it after a week or more inside. It was completely peaceful and had a restaurant, so I didn't need to cook either.
I have started to think a bit about my final destination of Istanbul. It is still very much a red country, meaning I could not come back from it without quarantine for 10 days at a cost of £2k or something like that. Should I just go to Greece instead, maybe drop in my friend Anna. I am not too worried as I know something will work itself out, but it would be nice to know.
Upon reflection, I could definitely have planned this section better. The easiest and fastest way to Budapest from Bratislava would be to stay in Slovakia, following the north side of the Danube rather than to cross over to Hungary immediately as I left Bratislava in the morning. Smoother safer roads, it would have made for easier cycling and I could have made the journey to Budapest in one day. However it would have meant missing out on the experiences of the lovely town of Gyor, meeting Paul & Luca who were terrific guys with so much good energy about them, seeing the eery Almásfüzitő aluminium plant as well as missing out on this beautiful campsite spot.
What I did was a mishmash, and I should have just continued on my path from Gyor to Komárom along the south, which would have been much quicker distance wise. In addition, the journey up route 12 to Vámosszabadi felt so damned dangerous, that nothing much was gained from doubling back on myself, just so I could enjoy a section of road that was smooth. But that is what cycle touring is all about and I am in no rush, so take it all as it comes and enjoy.
I slept like a log, exhausted from all the nervous energy expended by cycling amongst those inhumanely large lorries with drivers that, at times, feel as though they are actually taking aim at you rather than trying to miss you.
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